#this was exactly what i needed to read today...

[fanaticsnail]

we love unhinged dirty thoughts >w> they're funnnnn!!!! and aslkdjlkgf if you want my unhinged, tired flavour thought of the day- it is thusly... luffy could ostensibly get off from getting any part of his body being used as a stim chew toy. which is a v v fascinating thought, at least to us >w> - @remisloves

Oh, Remi. I love you. I see your Luffy wanting to be a chew toy and raise you a Kid wanting to be topped and dominated...

Told You You'd Like It

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,700+

Synopsis: You suggested something new in the bedroom, and your boyfriend immediately shot it down. You thought that's where the conversation ended, it had now flung from your thoughts never to be thought of by you again. Unbeknownst to you, Eustass Kid was consumed by the thought so much he almost thought on nothing else.

Warnings: Eustass Kid x gn!reader, penetration (reader and Kid receiving), rough smut, anal (Kid receiving), MDNI, 18+, smut, little to no plot, Kid is a switch, dumbification (Kid), Kid is into it.

Notes: I am a little loopy today and thought I'd try something new. Please read the warnings, do not read if it makes you uncomfortable!

Tag list: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

The first time you suggested the idea to him, Eustass Kid scoffed, berated you, and tied you to the bed and showed you exactly who was the dominant one in this relationship. The amount of times he coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of you, putting you in your place as your mind was spared of all thoughts other than how good his hand, lips and cock felt on your skin, had you regret ever suggesting such a notion. 

You had assumed the conversation died there: no more offerings of railing Eustass Kid and attempting something new in the bedroom he was yet to experience. Taking that into consideration, you refused to ask him again out of fear of the fact he'd make you cum on his metal hand again. 

But then he thought about it more. 

The thought alone of being topped, pleasure being pressed into him as he had done so many times before to you, was intriguing. He was wondering how it would feel, having you enter him and stretch his puckered and unexplored hole with your hands or anything else you wanted to try him with. 

And then he thought about it even more. Thinking about how it would feel to reach his depths, picturing how hard he would cum, or if he would even cum at all. The curiosity never ceased, and he needed to know exactly how it felt.

As he fucked you with his cock, his hips smacking with your body and watching your ass ripple with every thrust, he could picture nothing else than what it would feel like if you did the same to him. 

Would you grip his hips as hard as he gripped yours now? Would you bully his ass the same way that he was bullying you? Would he cry out with his eyes rolling back, contracting around you as you were around his cock now? Would he be loud, biting down on the mattress the same way you were, empty of all other thoughts than the way you'd feel caressing his depths?

“K-Kid I'm gonna-... I'm gonna c-cum-... Please can I cum? Please?” you whimpered, your body twitching and overstimulated as you pulsed over his throbbing shaft. He growled your name, forcing your back into a low arch as he pummeled himself into you harder and deeper. 

“Cum, fucking cum now. Cum on my cock,” he barked his order, feeling you ring and contract as you screamed his name through your bliss. He was not far after, painting your insides with ribbons of his cum while whining and panting into your shoulder. He bit down on the back of your neck as he felt his release spurt and splash back within your body. 

After spending time tidying, cleaning up your joint release and bringing back you both your favorite drink, he slung his arm loosely around your shoulders and drew you in close to him. 

Shifting up to look at him, you study his scarred face and noticed something behind his eyes. His gaze was fixed on the wooden wall in front of him, his lips falling into a line and staring vacantly ahead. 

“Are you okay, honey?” your soft question drew him out of his prior hypnosis, his eyes softening with a soothing smile drawing up his lips. 

“Yeah, m’alright Sunshine. Don't you worry, alrigh’?” he responded while muffling his voice against your temple, placing a soft kiss atop your skin. Humming against his touch, you lean into his embrace and nuzzle against his bare chest. 

“So long as you're sure,” you murmur to your lover, pressing your lips to his clavicle and nestling against him to begin to fall asleep. As your breathing evened, you fell into a soft and blissful slumber, your body spent and finally ushering you into the arms of rest. 

Eustass Kid would only dream of being so lucky. No sleep found him as he was consumed by the thoughts of you violating his body, entering his ass and bucking into him with reckless abandon. As the fifth hour of unrest drove him into the wee hours of the dawn, he could no longer stand the thought.

You felt your shoulders shake, waking you from your peace and forcing you to immediately draw up arms and ready yourself for a fight.

“What is it? Pirates, marines, bounty hunters?” you hushed your tone, reaching down and tugging your jacket up to place your arms into, “They above deck? Let's move-.” Kid’s arm clapped around yours, halting you as he gazed intensely into your eyes. 

“-I want you to fuck me in the ass,” he said humorlessly and in the absence of all mismeaning. His eyes holding nothing but all sincerity, almost sheepish in asking you such a request as soon as you woke.

After taking a moment, you held your eyes with his and slowly shrugged the jacket from your shoulders and placed it to the side. Deeply inhaling through your nose, you release a lengthy exhale and attempt to collect your thoughts and lower your heartbeat from the earlier adrenaline spike. 

“And you couldn't wait until the morning?” you slowly drawled at him, glaring up at him through your eyelashes. He shook his head, offering you a soft pout and widening his eyes innocently. You groan and roll your head on your shoulders in disdain for the lack of a full night's rest. 

“Okay,” you nod, gently coaxing him to lie on his back and crawl through his legs, “We'll start small and work our way up to-.”

“-No,” he uttered quietly. You lulled your head to the side, scanning over his face for any inhibitions. Upon finding only a sheepish grimace, his eyes lowered to the ground, and a warm blush rising up his cheeks, you slowly smirk and look down your nose at him with your brow arched high. 

When Kid met your eyes once more, the look you had was foreign to him. Looking possessed, consumed with desire and feral with lust, Kid gulped back his nerves and rounded his caramel eyes up at you. 

“Alright, pretty boy,” you smirk down at him, giving his chin a gentle tap with your index and middle fingers, “Lay on your stomach and arch your back.” You inched your way off him, aiding him to unceremoniously flip onto his belly. Gifting him an ‘L-shaped’ pillow from your side of the bed, you place his chin in the corner and rest it beneath his arms cradling his chest. 

“You're gonna regret not letting me work up to it,” you run your fingers down his spine, halting just above his ass cheeks before you grab at the taut muscles, “But if you're that adamant about it, I'll just go straight in.”

As tears began to sting the corner of his eyes, he bit down on the mattress while feeling your pelvis meet with his in a repetitive buck. You had warmed and stretched him with your fingers as best as you could without his impatience getting the better of him, but as soon as you drew down to the hilt, it was like a switch had been flipped inside Eustass Kid. 

He couldn't think, breathe or move without feeling how far his body stretched to accommodate your actions. Each cruel piston felt all too foreign, but oh so good. He was drunk on the feeling, his body completely dominated and relaxing beneath each thrust and grind. 

Kid whined your name, groaning into the pillow while biting down hard on the plush material. Reaching further depths than he could ever dream, his eyes began to roll as the blunt tip hit his prostate and had his cock twitch in the approach of ecstasy. 

“You're doing so well, honey,” you praised him, gripping his hips and bucking in harder to perpetually hit that sweet spot deep in his abdomen. You rake your blunt nails over his hip and down to circle around his painfully hard cock, choking the tip before pistoning the shaft in the same motion you fucked his ass with. 

Kid couldn't grace you with an answer, his mind finding itself vacant and jaw falling slack, as he drooled onto the flush material. His body began to contract, his balls lifting flush against his abdomen as his cock twitched in your palm. 

He couldn't warn you, his body immediately betraying him by snapping that coil deep within the pit of his stomach and spurting his seed in hot ropes of translucent release. His whined and strangled cry had you smile down at him. The tension on his shoulders fell slack as his body gave into the feeling of being completely spent.

Eustass Kid had never cum so hard and long in his life. Each time he thought his orgasm was close to concluding, another twitching wave shifted through him and pulsed through his cock in a spurt of viscous cum. He felt so full, so complete and stuffed to the brim and he couldn't get enough.  

The duvet beneath him was coated in the sheen of his cum, just as your palm was painted by his dribbling knob. His asshole twitched around you, still sheathed all the way to your abdomen and taking all you had given him. 

“You okay down there, honey?” you cooed down at him, feeling his cock still twitching in your hand as his shaft rapidly deflated. He couldn't nod, couldn't breath or speak without it coming out in incoherent babbling and mumbles. 

All you offered him while inching out of him was a simple phrase whispered into his ear with a gentle kiss on his cheek, “I fucking told you you'd like it.”

He offered a soft grunt in response, burying his blushing face into the pillow to hide his bashfulness. You hummed down in glee, crawling off him and beginning to ready several items to clean both of you up with, just as he did for you hours earlier. 

As you returned back to the room, all you could see was your hulking boyfriend laying flat on his back and haphazardly tucked into the duvet: face flushed, eyes peacefully shut, and a soft smile drawn up onto his lips. 

You would look forward to topping him again, and again, and again: never ceasing to tire from the overstimulated little whines and mewls from him each time you made him cum by fucking his ass. 

There was no denying it now. Eustass Kid enjoyed himself too much to let the situation never occur again. His sheepish grin, innocent rounded eyes, and biting his lips to stifle a blush was all you needed to see to know he wanted it. And you were more than happy to oblige him each time he was consumed with the need.

#one piece #x reader #one piece x reader #one piece smut #gn!reader #x gn!reader #eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid x gn!reader #eustass captain kidd #kid #op kid #one piece kid #one piece x reader smut

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: Musing on Ages, & Dragon Prep

"Desire" mention - how much does Tensu know of the details of the origin of dungeons? (More than I do, probably...but I know this is thematically important.)

"Us"? Aren't gnomes another long-lived species? Ok this is going to be continuously relevant to the geopolitics so I need to break it down. From the wiki:

Elves: lifespan: 400; adult at 80

Gnomes: lifespan: 240; adult at 40

Dwarves: lifespan: 200; adult at 40

Tallmen: lifespan: 60; adult at 16

Orcs: lifespan: 55; adult at 14

Kobolds: lifespan: 55; adult at 13

Halffoots: lifespan: 50; adult at 14

I see - so really we're dealing with 3 factions: Elves, Gnomes & Dwarves, and Everyone Else. I find it interesting that the longer-lived races reach maturity at 17-20% of their average lifespan, while the younger-lived races all do so at around 25% of their average lifespan. I feel a little like this is a cop-out on the writer's part in trying to keep the ages of maturity a little closer to one another - though of course it's a cultural thing by each race (and, I'm sure, each culture within each race - idk how monolithic the whole comic will treat them, but it would track with the thematic worldbuilding for their to be multiple distinct social groups within each race, even if they do tent to band together against the other races!)

Based on the categories of "long-lived" and "short-lived", the latter seem to view all of the former as much the same - but I'm SURE the Elves have a different view of it, and I'm sure the Dwarves and, as we see here, Gnomes, are very aware of and irritated by the Elves' view.

...and as we see here, and earlier with Chilchuck admitting to being 29 (solidly middle-aged!) and Marcille going, "Aw, so you are a kid!", people rarely make any effort to understand each others relative ages, instead just coasting on their own life-based assumptions.

With reference to above, we can see that Namari at 61 is pretty exactly equivalent to Kaka and Kiki at 20.

Also: this little scene wasn't in the show at all and I love it! Namari in mentor mode!

.

ALRIGHT RED DRAGON TIME!! Hey look, literally the 2nd panel in this ghost city is 2/3 winged lions by volume. Hmmm...

.

I love how it's explicitly Shuro's job to get the final killshot, presumably because he has Feats for this (ie, cool-looking moments) as a "real" anime character (Easterner). This literally bears up with what we see of him in the future.

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Chilchuck: I will NOT fight!

Chilchuck: I'll totally be dragon bait with you, though.

Chilchuck: Not that I care if you succeed or survive or anything! I'm only here because you paid up front.

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Laios using the Inspiring Leader speech feat! They're all having a Heroes' Feast before fighting the dragon, a classic pre-dragon act for bonus HP and immunity to being Frightened! I know this isn't actually D&D but that post that I think came through my queue earlier today is right: it DOES have the same bones. It's like reading the Locked Tomb and being aware that this author was deep in Homestuck, or Scholomance vis a vis Harry Potter canon and fandom. I know where this writer has been, because I have been there too.

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THE BOY IS HERE! THE MAN THE MYTH THE OVERWORKED* LEGEND!

THIS SISTER-EATING MOTHERFUCKER!!

*Crack AU where the whole dragon fight is averted because it talks and somehow the conversation leads to Chilchuck going, "And the Mage isn't even letting you sleep? Tsk. You've got to start a union." And then Laios gets all starry-eyed, "A Monster Union?!" And then the Mage is eventually defeated by all the monsters of the dungeon, and also the poor sane ghosts as well, unionizing against him, and "king" becomes just the title for the Union Rep, whose main job is to honk an airhorn at presumptuous Elves and tell them to fuck off like a Canadian goose.

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I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

#dm lb #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon

[thenickgirl]

TERRIBLE TWOS

dad!nick x male!reader

summary: in which you and your husband, Nick, try to handle your daughter, Aliyah’s, tired behavior.

genre: fluff ✩ pov: second person ✩ word count: 1.4k

warnings: none?

a/n: uhh i know i said i wasn’t writing another fic, but i’m a liar so, jokes on you actually. i came up with this in the shower and just couldn’t pass it up. it was meant to be a little blurb, but gang wanted more so. the ending is awkward sorry, i still don’t quite know what i’m doing. anyways, happy reading! ❤️‍🔥

Life as new parents isn’t always the easiest, but you two have handled things fairly very well. The past two years with your daughter, Aliyah, have been amazing. Nick is able to work on his business remotely, so he mostly stayed home with her, while you went in to work everyday. He was an outstanding father, and Aliyah absolutely adored him, they were so close. She loved you just as much of course, and on the weekends she loved having you both home to cuddle and play with. She had grown used to your daily routine, however, today was going to be different, because Nick had meetings lined up that he had to be in the office for, so you took off in order to stay home with her. It wasn’t the first time you had been alone with your daughter obviously, but it had been a while. Still, you were eager to spend some one on one time with your sweet girl. You had heard horror stories of people complaining about their toddlers' behavior, but you always chalked it up to them either over exaggerating or just being bad parents. That was until today, when your own toddler decided she wanted to switch things up.

-

“BABE WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN??” you shout as your husband, Nick, walks in the door, his hands full of bags you assumed to be groceries. “I know, I’m sorry our last meeting ran way over, and I knew we needed some things for dinner so I decided to stop by the store on the way home.” He says as he walks into the kitchen, placing the bags onto the island. “We might not even make it to dinner!” you shout, and Nick looks over at you confused, his eyes narrowing. “Babe, what are you talking about?” he chuckles, as he puts the food away, clearly not understanding the severity of the situation. “Aliyah, your daughter, didn’t go down for her nap today.” you say to him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why is she only my daughter when she doesn’t take a nap?” he responds, mimicking your gesture. “That’s because she acts just like you when she doesn’t. She’s extremely cranky. She wouldn’t stop crying. She’s been throwing fits every 15 minutes. SHE ACTUALLY THREW AT BLOCK AT ME!” you yell recounting the event. Nick bites back a laugh before the realization hits him, “Ohh no,” he whispers. “Exactly! I swear, this is the worst it’s ever been,” you sigh, placing your head in your hands.

“No!” Nick utters, pulling your hands away from your face. “Listen, we are not going to be defeated by a 2 year old, okay? This is our house, and we’re in charge.” he says hastily as you nod along to his rant. “Yeah, we’re the adults here!” you agree. “Say it!” he demands, “This is our house, and we’re in charge!” you shout. “RIGHT! So where is she?” he asks, walking out of the kitchen into the hallway. “She’s sitting in her playroom room, I turned on Gracie’s Corner. This is the longest that she’s been content all day. I don’t see how you do this, I almost started crying with her.” you say before following behind your husband, and he chuckles at your statement before turning to face you, “You’re doing great, it gets better, I promise,” he praises as he holds your face in his hands, kissing your forehead sweetly, and you smile up at him.

“Well, did you at least put the Gracie video on loop?” he asks, turning away to walk down the hall towards the playroom, with you not far behind. “Loop? What loop? What are you talking about?” you ask confusedly, and Nick stops in his tracks, causing you to run into him. He turns around sharply to face you, his eyes widening. “You didn’t loop it? Babe, you have to loop it because once it goes off she-“ “DADDYYYYYY!” you hear your daughter’s cries from down the hall, and sigh deeply. As you and your husband rush to her, you were stopped in your tracks by her meeting you halfway, her ocean blue eyes welling with tears.

You both kneel down to her level, and Nick wipes away her tears with his thumb, his demeanor softening the second he sees his little girl. “What’s wrong, bunny?” he asks softly. “Daddy, Gwacie went off, I wanna watch Gwacie! I wanna watch Gwacie! I wanna watch Gwacie!” she chants, stomping her tiny feet. You and Nick just sit there, watching your daughter absolutely lose it. “Liyah Jade, c’mon now. Gracie isn’t going anywhere, we can always restart it, you’re fine. Just calm down, honey,” he reassures her. “Okay, can I have a cookie pwease daddy?” she says pouting. “Sure, let's go get you a cookie,” “Nicolas!” you utter in disbelief. “Why don’t you go pick out the cookie you want okay? I’ll be there in a second,” he says to his baby girl as she skips away down the hall. He turns to look at you, shrugging. “Cookies before dinner, really?” “I know, but she was pouting, and c’mon she’s so cute!” he says defeated. “What happened to ‘this is our house and we’re in charge’?” you say, chuckling and he pauses. “Doesn’t really sound like something I would say,” he smirks as he walks into the kitchen with Aliyah, shaking your head at the way she had him wrapped around her little finger.

-

Once back in the playroom, after having cookies and watching Gracie together as a family for what felt like the hundredth time, you noticed that it was getting close to dinner time. You leave the two to continue watching more videos while you go and cook. You decide to prepare something quick and easy. After spending all afternoon with a grumpy toddler, you couldn’t be bothered to make anything more elaborate. As you were finishing whipping up dinner, you could hear Nick and Aliyah in the other room bickering, and you couldn’t help listening. His ability to straight up argue with a toddler never ceased to amuse you.

“But honey, when you make a mess you have to clean it up. Look, we can even make it fun. I can turn on some music and-”

“No, daddy! I can’t want to!”

You couldn’t see him, but you just knew your husband was rolling his eyes. Once dinner is ready, you call for them to come and eat. To your surprise dinner goes smoothly. Usually, Aliyah complains about eating her vegetables, saying ‘I can’t want that! It’s gwoss’, but tonight she ate them willingly. Maybe her missing a nap wasn't so bad after all, you thought to yourself. You glance over and see your daughter yawn for the third time, and you and Nick give each other a knowing look. The ‘no naps’ campaign she had been running was finally taking a toll on her.

-

After dinner, you started getting ready for bed. You gave Aliyah a bath, brushed her teeth, and got her ready for bed. Nick came in soon after to read her favorite story. She cuddled up next to him, her eyelids growing heavier by the second. You watched from the door frame as the story ended, and your toddler now sound asleep in your husband's arms. “Soo, have we defeated Bowser yet, or no?” you say teasingly. “Shh! Don’t call her that!” Nick says as he throws a plushie from her bed at you. You jump out of the way so that it misses you, “I’m kidding! She is cute though, especially when she’s sleeping,” you say looking down at her tiny frame, smiling. “Amen to that, a lot quieter too.” You both chuckle and Nick gets up out of her bed, careful not to wake the little sleeping beauty, before tucking her in, and you each kiss her goodnight.

You tip top quietly out of her room, closing the door gently, and you both let out a sigh of relief. You head towards your bedroom which is only a couple doors down, and start getting ready for bed yourselves, the two of you feeling pretty worn out. After showering and slipping on pajamas, you both plop down into your bed on your respective sides, settling under the covers. “Today went completely different from what I expected,” you confess as you cuddle into your husband's side. He laughs as he wraps his arm around you, rubbing your back softly. “I probably should’ve given you a heads up about that. She is a menace when she’s tired,” “Yep, sounds familiar,” you tease and he pinches your side. “Heyyy! I’m not that bad, and I will just go to sleep if I’m tired, not start a whole ass riot,” he says in defense and you both laugh. After a while, a comfortable silence grows between you and before long you both drift off to sleep.

🏷️: @muwapsturniolo @mattslolita @guccifrog @luverboychris @freshloveforthefit @matty-bear @mybelovednick @imsosillygoofylol @ghostking4m @certifiednatelover @meg-sturniolo @sturniolossss @moonk1ss3d @nickgetsmewetter

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo x male reader #nick sturniolo x reader #mr stromboli #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #a fics #stromboli fics #n fic

[meichenxi]

Language learning: slow learning versus toxic productivity

Or: the process in crisis

Five years ago, all of the productivity advice I read (and gave out) as a successful self-learner of many different languages had one basic premise: that I was not doing enough, and that I could always be doing more.

Several burnouts later, running headlong from one mental illness into another, I'd like to invite you to entertain the exact opposite idea: there is a limit to what you can do. I have run face-first into mine on multiple occasions, and burnt out. At many points I've stopped learning the language at all. Most importantly, I've learnt to be distrustful of the very premise that all of the so-called productivity or optimisation advice is based on.

More is not always more.

Listen to a podcast in the target language whilst you exercise. Exercise to give yourself more energy to learn your target language. Talk to yourself in the shower in your target language. Do Anki whilst eating breakfast. Listen to Glossika whilst walking to work. Change your phone settings to your target language. Bullet journal. Manage your time. Make friends in your target language. Control your time. Write a diary. There's always enough time. These are all things I have done myself and recommended others do, to increase exposure to the language, to increase productivity.

Productivity? What productivity? What, exactly, is it that we are producing? I am producing sentences and words but - for who? Who is listening? Nobody's here, in my room, at 7am on a Sunday. If productivity were just speaking or writing, I'd be productive in my native language too, by virtue of speaking out loud. Or conversely, in language learning circles, should we measure it in terms of input? How many hours did you spend listening to Chinese yesterday? What about today? Is there anything you do in your life, in your daily life, that you could optimise? You're wasting time. There's time here, for those that want it. If you want to get ahead, to be successful, to be a good language learner, you have to know how to use that time. Go online, and debate over which tools are the best; watch your videos. What exactly is it that is being produced?

Productivity is a measuring tool for concrete output: the productivity of a field means how much crop it can yield per harvest. The productivity of a factory is how many mobile phone chargers it can bring to market per year. There are direct and measurable ways to increase this sort of productivity. But what is productivity when it comes to knowledge work? Cal Newport's work, The Minimalists, Essentialism: they all run into the same problem, which is that nobody seems to know what 'productivity' for knowledge workers means at all. You can look at a factory line and see which parts need greasing up, figuratively or literally: it is very difficult, on the other hand, to look at the work of a self-contained writer and tell her where she is going 'wrong'. (And by 'wrong', I mean - slow.) And language learning is an even more particular subset of that particular subset of work.

You could judge a novelists' productivity two ways: by the 'busyness' of her daily writing routine, or the amount of novels she produces. But what exactly is being produced when we learn a language? What is the end product?

In some ways, language learning as a hobby is even more playful than traditionally thought of arts and crafts. (By 'play' I mean something which is done for its own sake, and which is pleasurable, and which may yield next to no monetary reward.) We might think of the poet as sitting on a tree and dangling his feet in the river, a vision of artful indolence, but at the end of the day there is output - a poem. A knitter has a jumper. A potter has a pot. But language learning doesn't follow this [work] + [time] = [tangible output] structure. We can't even use the second metric of 'productivity' to measure it at all. Something is being done, of course - I can learn to speak Greek, and speak it markedly better after two months than one - but my point is you can't look at a day's work and say, this is exactly how much I learnt. Learning is not memorisation in the short term - it's receiving input, and practicing how to wield and use a structure. It doesn't happen over the course of a ten-minute podcast.

Learning happens - encoding happens - when the brain is doing other things. In other words, much like every creative process, you need downtime. You need rest, and sleep, and fun, and brightness and joy in your life. You might 'remember' a bunch of words on Anki, but you need to sleep before you can review them again: that's the whole point.

There is a much wider problem here, a culture of goals and optimising your life and glowing up, and to be honest, I find it disturbing. I think that for a very long time my language learning metrics were a stand-in, a relic, for the kinds of unhealthy and obsessively perfectionist thinking that gave me an eating disorder. How many of us truly believe - genuinely, with every inch of our heart - that we are better people if we 'better' ourselves? Learn more. Exercise more. Study more. How do you feel about yourself at the end of a day, exhausted, because you've completed day 75/100? Do you feel better about yourself because you've achieved? I'm guessing that you do.

For many people - including for myself - this wider culture has spilled over into their hobbies. Hobbies like language learning in particular are a target for this because they are so easily quantifiable - and we are encouraged, if we want to succeed, to quantify them. How else will we know how to improve?

Over the last few years, after burning out, after living off grid and without wifi and doing extreme minimalism and a lot of other lifestyle experiments to try and understand why modern life is so fucking hard, it's become clear that most systems of 'productivity' measure 'optimisation' by getting the most done in a day, but they don't stop to question whether you should be doing those things at all.

They don't stop to ask: what matters? They don't stop to ask: why am I trying to write a novel, finish my dissertation, pursue a romantic relationship, get healthy, learn ice-skating, learn to cook, look after my aging parents, and learn guitar at the same time? They don't ask: how do I prioritise, and where do I find silence? They ask: how do I cram more time in the day? They don't ask: how do I slow time down? They don't ask: how can I know what matters, if I never give myself space to think?

In other words: 'productivity' in language learning is measured by 'busy-work', by how much you can see from the surface.

You can't measure how well the learning is going, exactly, but you can measure how many hours a day you show up and grind. Whether or not that struggle is the best use of your time, or whether you're spending the time on things that will truly bring you value and quality, is a different question altogether.

And it's not one most 'productivity culture' will ever ask.

There will be things in your language learning journey that, to borrow from self-help terminology, no longer serve you. Habits and relics and resources and mindsets that worked for you once, or no longer did. Those books that are too advanced that you feel like you 'should' be able to read. That textbook that's been sitting beside your bed for a year. That habit of scrolling social media in your target language that was helpful when you were at a more intermediate level, but does little for you now that you're advanced.

Take stock of these. Simplify. Do less, but do it better. Productivity culture never stops to ask: what can I do without? It always asks, instead: how can I do more? But maybe - just maybe - the way to do more is to focus on fewer things, but do them well.

Multi-tasking isn't multi-tasking, but switching quickly between different focuses of attention. The average American owns 300,000 things, and watches television for 4-5 hours a day. On average, if you are distracted, it takes you 20 minutes to reach the same level of deep focus: but the average American office worker opens an email within six seconds of receiving it. Are you any better with your phone? How much time do you spend there? If you meditate, that's wonderful, but do you have any time to let yourself think? To walk and to understand how to feel? I don't want to sound like a boomer, but: can you name the birds? Do you live in a place, not just a room?

Stop trying to be 'productive'. Do less. Do it well.

I am now facing a wall in my learning of Chinese, and I'm still not sure how to get around it. The reason for this is because so much of the advice I gave others around language learning, and so much of the advice I found online, is focused on this sort of optimisation. But I no longer want to be listening to something, to be watching something, every second of every day. I have a partner to love and a house to appreciate and I want to spend time, humming and pleasant, alone with my thoughts, and it's summer, dear diary, and I don't want to stay indoors. Routines can keep you afloat, but they can also drown you. Do something different. Do something new. Do something that is not productive, that produces nothing, idle away, walk to work without music and perhaps when you sit down to your language learning that evening, you'll be filled with a renewed vigour and love for it. Do it because you love it, not because you scheduled it in your calendar.

A lesson, related, from my martial arts teacher. He said:

If you are tired, do not train. If you do not train, rest. 'Rest' does not mean go on your phone.

The same principle applies here. If you are tired of learning, which you may well be, rest. Not going on your phone, not watching Netflix. I mean taking a walk and sitting under the tree and looking at the patterning of the sky. I mean lying with your dog and absently scratching his tummy. If you're tired, and you have the luxury to stop - stop. Let yourself be tired. Don't drink caffeine. Sleep.

Last year, I was able to write 340,000 words of fiction because I focused on one thing: writing my book. Apart from things that I literally needed to do to survive and maintain my health and relationships around me, I didn't set a single other to-do. My daily list looked like: write for three hours. Not a word limit. Not exercise, though I ended up doing that, not learning a language. I imagine that if I had tried to focus on Chinese at the same time that I wouldn't have achieved anywhere near half the result. I still learnt Chinese, a very decent amount - I went to China and Taiwan for three months in total! - but I did it because I wanted to, of a whim, on a Sunday, something fun. It wasn't a must, or anything I was forcing myself to do. Many days I didn't do any Chinese at all. It was so immensely freeing to be able to think, at 11am: I'm finished for today. Even when I was at work, because I knew I was just there to pay the rent, I felt serene. Stressed on a day-to-day level, certainly, because all work is stressful, but - there wasn't any striving. I just did the best I could. And that was enough.

I am writing this, now, as I come out of my first ever information-overload burnout. I've burnt out, but I've never experienced one of these before: even looking at a book, at a phone, physically hurt my eyes. I couldn't bear to listen to people speak and would lock myself away in my room. I physically felt I could not talk, and had to take extensive time off work. Even looking at a pen and a blank page was too much; listening to podcasts was too much; reading the instructions for dinner was too much too. The only way I could heal was by doing absolutely nothing at all. That period shocked me deeply, because it showed me how absolutely dependent I was on having some input of information all of the time. No wonder I was tired.

I know, now, that there are lots of movements built around this same idea, by frustrated learners all over the world: the growing realisation that metrics and Excel and polylogger and tracking tracking tracking can't be the only way to learn. That a list of the number of books you've read in one year is hardly indicative of how well you understood those books, and what you learned from them. You've read 20 books this year already - good job. When do you think about them? What time do you spend on reflection? Why did you choose those books? Which chapters, and which characters, hit you the hardest? Why?

Minimalism, deep work, 'monk mode', essentialism, every writer's dream to run away and write in a cabin in the woods, slow learning, Buddhism, Stoicism, Marie Kondo-ism, the art of less, project 333, my no-buy-year, slow fashion, slow food, slow travel:

What all of these philosophies have in common is the idea that doing things deliberately ('mindfully') means 1) doing things slowly, 2) doing things well, and 3) doing things one at a time.

I am now at a place in my life where I understand the value of time alone with my thoughts. I don't want to listen to podcasts every minute of the waking day, because I need time to think about them. I need time to let the ideas for my novel grow in the dark. Nothing can be heard in noise; so make space for silence. I am a member of the real, living, breathing world, and that means I cannot devote 8 hours a day to Chinese television shows like I could when I was 20. I have to call my father. I have to do the dishes. I want to flex my creative muscles in other ways. Alternatively - I no longer believe that my worth is tied up inherently with how well I do my hobbies.

You're just some guy. There's freedom in that. You, my friend - you suck <3

Let yourself be bad. Let yourself be mediocre. Let yourself 'slide backwards' or regress, because all that means is that you're putting focus somewhere else. It'll come back. It always does.

I'm no longer comfortable, therefore, with the way that the language learning community tackles productivity. Please don't misunderstand; a lot of us have time spare that we could use to do things 'better' for us. I know. But I just believe now that getting rid of things, like the time you spend on your phone, is going to be more helpful in the long run than trying to force yourself into some gruelling, achievement-centric regime that collapses from within after two months of struggle and self-flagellation.

The other realisation I have had is just how much happier I am spending more time being alive, really alive, and less time in front of a screen. For a language like German or Gaelic that's much easier, because you can study with books, but with Chinese you always have to study to some extent with audios, flashcards, computers. Especially if - like me - you can read novels without a dictionary, but cannot handwrite even your Chinese name. So where next?

I don't have any answers. I'm not sure how to pair the two things together, to be honest, because almost all of my language learning has traditionally made use of technology. It's all been goal-orientated, systems-orientated, and despite the fact that I've failed at using these systems every day for years, despite the fact that Anki has NEVER worked for me, despite the fact that I have spent hundreds if not thousands of pounds on courses here, there, a wealth of overwhelm and five thousand words saved on Pleco, did I read that right? Five thousand. No wonder I'm stressed.

Regardless of happiness, it's much easier to achieve a state of deep focus and work when you're not online. After my period of information burnout, I feel actual physical pain from the weight of choices online. It's exhausting. I'm watching a Chinese show, but I want to go on tumblr. I'm on tumblr, but I feel guilty for not watching the Chinese show. I'm constantly torn between doing this and that, never fully committing to anything, seeing a post by Lindie Botes and thinking, damn, she's good. I should be better. But I don't want to compare myself to her. Do you know what? She is good. I admire her immensely. But I don't want to judge my self-worth by some imagined scale of productivity anymore - and, the more time passes, the more I'm not sure what 'productivity' in the context of language learning even means.

Try slow, focused, deep learning. You might just find it works.

There's something refreshing, almost counter-cultural, anti-capitalist, anti-consumerist, anti-rat-race, about this thought. Slow learning. I think there's an answer here, somewhere. It's a problem I've been dancing around for a while; and do you remember how you learnt your first foreign language? For me, it was on the floor, absolutely absorbed in German comic books, flicking through the dictionary furiously and scribbling things down in a notebook. I only had one book, and one dictionary, and one grammar book. I want to go back to that sort of simplicity. There was joy in that.

One again: I don't have any answers. I don't know exactly what direction this blog is going to go in, as I wrestle with these sorts of meta-problems. I'd love to hear your thoughts. And for now, if there's one thing I'd like you to take away from this long and frankly absurdly rambling post (thank you for bearing with me!) it's an alternative answer for the question I get so often, about what you can do to learn the language when you're tired, because:

Yes, you could watch reality TV shows in Chinese, or you could give yourself permission to be human. You could rest.

Thanks guys. Meichenxi out <3

#langblr #language learning #languages #productivity #productivitytips #^ tagging it with all of the above so it reaches the target audience of stressed out 17 year olds #my dudes. my guys. you are loved. or if you are not now - you will be #all will be well

[daistea]

I love love love the scenarios of Kabru with a person who is oblivious, but what about someone who is hyper aware of how other people feel towards them as a defense mechanism? Someone who is constantly aware of everything that's going on and it's something they can't turn off but as a result hates guessing games and won't act unless the other person is genuinely forward. They aren't bad and are polite but will blatantly ignore hints. I think there's another layer of hilarity in that one.

Ya! I don't know if I captured what you're looking for, to be honest. But I tried my best, and I hope you like it!

1600 words !

no tw or spoilers I don't think

Cracks - Kabru x reader

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Your heart was a fortress. There were moats and ballistas and canons aimed straight at anyone who dared approach. You weren’t sure when the fortress walls raised, but you knew when another stone was added, when they grew higher. 

And Kabru’s charming smile only piled more stones atop the wall. 

That smile was intended for another purpose, you knew. He’d realize that soon enough, but until then, you would maintain eye contact and nod along with his conversations. He didn’t talk about himself often, but he had stories to tell, anecdotes, theories. And he wanted your opinion on every single one. 

“What do you think?” Kabru asked. It was a line cast into the water with bait on the hook. It was the sliding of a chess piece across the board. And he didn’t mean to play these games, you also knew that. It was just how he was. 

“I don’t know,” was all you gave him. 

Kabru nodded to himself. He was good at covering up his disappointment, but you could practically see the gears turning in his pretty head. The only thing you weren’t sure of was why, exactly, he had wanted to see you today. 

Finally, he returned his attention to you, “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

You felt yourself tense. Your shoulders slumped a little and you uncrossed your arms— he was probably reading your closed-off body language, but that was all simply habit, not a result of discomfort. 

“No, you don’t,” and you meant it. You weren’t about to inform him of why you never took the bait, but you’d throw him a bone. “You really don’t. I just… Wait, that was a very straightforward question, Kabru. How uncharacteristic of you.”

“I can be straightforward when I want to be,” He sent you another brilliant smile, though the look in his eyes told you that it was genuine. 

“Why do you want to be at this moment?”

Kabru looked away. He stared at his barely-touched mug of ale, doing his best not to shift uncomfortably on the bar stool. Yet, you saw it; the slight bounce of his knee, how his nose wrinkled. 

Finally: “I’m figuring something out,” he said. 

“Aren’t you always?” You teased. 

And he sent you another genuine smile with a hint of something, you weren’t sure. How annoying. Was it affection? You decided to push the thought aside for the sake of your sanity. 

“Yeah, you’ve got me,” he put his hands up and laughed, then took a sip of his ale as if needing something to do with himself to ease the tension that was slowly seeping between you. Tension: a noxious, invisible gas. It was about to give you a headache. 

You turned on the stool to face him, “What’s on your mind?”

Kabru’s smile turned wry, “Now you’re the one prying.” Your heart clenched. That was another stone on the wall. He knew you and it made you want to run away as fast as you could. 

“I guess,” you said, “Yeah, I do that sometimes.”

“I don’t mind,” Kabru murmured. 

What a lie. 

˚ · • . ° .

“Why are you two like this?” Rin asked. Her eyes were narrowed and her hands pressed down on her hips. Both you and Kabru took in the sight and began silently reaching conclusions. 

Kabru was the first to answer. “What do you mean? What’re we like?” He wasn’t confused in the least but made a good show of it. 

“Like this!” She gestured at you both, how close you were sitting with thighs and shoulders brushing. “You’re constantly dancing around each other and, frankly, it’s obnoxious.”

She was right. One step towards each other always resulted in two steps back. Kabru would create a verbal maze that you would instantly get lost in. You knew the general layout and that you should go a certain direction, but you never did find the exit. 

“Sorry,” you offered, hoping it would quell Rin’s annoyance. (It did not.)

“Are you two aware that…” Rin paused. She seemed to choke on her words as her cheeks slowly went pink. You and Kabru both stared. And stared. And Stared. Finally, Rin groaned, “Nevermind! This is your problem to figure out. Not mine.”

True enough. 

“She’s right,” Kabru murmured after she left. He lowered his head and looked at you, trapping you beneath his spotlight. Unfortunately, you had stage fright. 

“Right about what?” You asked, standing up to create distance; that spotlight was uncomfortably warm. But the lack of that warmth from Kabru’s body next to yours only created a gaping hole in your chest. (You'd have to fill that hole with sweets and distractions later.)

Kabru pursued your attention, “About our feelings, of course.”

Your feelings? At that moment, you were feeling quite shaken as cracks began to run up your fortress walls. 

“What feelings?” You asked flatly. 

His hopeful little smile instantly fell and he started to shift uncomfortably, “Our feelings.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“I’m not making you say anything,” you corrected, taking a step backward, preparing your retreat. 

“Yes you are,” Kabru began to argue desperately, “I’ve spent months trying to give you hints! I told you ‘the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?’ and you started talking about how the craters kind of looked like Laois’s face. I compared our hand sizes together as an excuse to touch you, and all you said was that I have girlish hands!”

“You do.”

“You know me,” he grit his teeth, standing up from the bench, “you know how hard this is for me. I’ve given you so many hints, so many opportunities, but you’ve ignored them all!”

Hints. Even the word made you frown. Kabru wanted to play guessing games all day, while all you wanted was a simple game of truth and dare where everybody only picked truth. 

Sometimes, you couldn’t help but wonder why you loved this man. He always banged at the walls of your fortress and, recently, some stones had begun to crumble. You added more, but they would only fall when he decided to say something outright on rare occasion.

“I don’t like games,” was all you said. 

“I know,” Kabru exhaled and ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes, “I know. I’m trying, really. Usually, I’m pretty adaptable, but this is just… Different.”

“And… You don’t like it?”

“I–” his mouth opened and closed before he looked at you straight on, “I don’t hate it, honestly. It’s different in a good way, as if it’s forcing me to be better with my words.”

“You’re already good with your words. You’re too good with them, that’s the problem.”

Kabru watched you for a moment. You allowed him to analyze you despite how it made your skin tingle. After a bit, he nodded to himself. “Do you want to get a drink?” He asked. 

“...I brought my water canteen with me, so I really don’t—

“You’re just blatantly ignoring my hints, aren’t you?” Kabru announced. His eyes widened and he threw his hands into the air. Whirling away, he gripped his hair and groaned. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. 

“Maybe you should try a new method,” you offered, patting his back, “one that doesn’t involve implications and guesses.”

Slowly, he lifted his head. He looked a bit dead inside, and his jaw tensed. You felt as if you were watching him force himself to eat a monster out of a sheer need to please. It endeared him to you, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the guy. The things Kabru put himself through simply to maintain good graces were endless and difficult. 

“I…” he paused, blinking a few times before he finally looked at you, “Would that work?”

Probably. “Think of it like therapy,” you said as you led him back to the bench and sat down beside him. “Try to be blunt with me. Practice.”

“Practice,” he echoed under his breath.

“Come on.”

His eyes narrowed, “Fine. Where do I start? Give me a prompt.”

Good question. You gave it a moment of thought, “Alright, try asking me on a date.”

“I just did a few minutes ago.”

“No, be blunt about it.”

A heavy pause. Kabru slumped forward a little, an intense look in his eyes. “Alright. Fine. Will you go on a date with me?”

“...Why?”

“Why?” Fear and horror and exasperation filled his eyes, "Shouldn't you already know?"

“I don't. So, why?”

“Because—” just like Rin did earlier, Kabru choked on his words. His hands went up and he made meaningless gestures with them as if that would assist in the process of being blunt. “Because I would like that?”

“Good job!” You patted him on the shoulder. “Now, bluntly tell me how you feel about me.”

The horror on his face, you wanted a picture of it so you would always have something to laugh at. “Really?”

“Really,” you sang. 

“Fine. I—” another meaningless gesture as he cleared his throat, brows furrowing, “You really want me to be blunt?”

“Yeah. Tell me the truth, the whole truth, don’t dance around it.”

“Okay,” Kabru snorted, “Okay… I want to kiss you, I want to hold you, I want your attention, I want to pin you down on the couch and—”

“That’s enough,” you put up a hand— your cheeks were burning— and smiled, “we’re in a public place. But I get the point, thank you.”

Kabru sighed in relief. He closed his eyes and fell forward, burying his face in your shoulder. You couldn’t help but laugh and pat his back. 

There was a lot of work to do. He still had another layer of walls to break through, but he’d learn how to defeat and conquer. He’d learn how to stop building mazes for you. And it would be good for him, if it didn’t drive him insane first. 

You buried your nose into his hair. He groaned, slack in your arms. Part of you wanted to run, retreat. The other part of you rejoiced in the moment. You weren’t sure which one to listen to, but you and Kabru would figure it out with time. 

You and Kabru would figure a lot of things out together from now on. 

#yay! #sorry for the late reply friend #asks #kabru x reader #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #kabru of utaya #dungeon meshi x reader #reader insert #x reader #my writing

[koolades-world]

Congrats on 2k!

Could you maybe do prompt number seven with Belphie, but instead he's the one wearing MC's shirt rather than MC being the one wearing his? (I know people always assume MC's smaller than all of them, but just let me have this 😞🙏 /hj)

I mean, I don't really know what the prompt could indicate, so I thought I should clarify

thank you! yes of course i can!

since i got two asmo ones for this prompt too, i almost spun one to be asmo wearing mcs shirt, but then i saw this request! you read my mind haha

i'm glad this prompt is well liked because it's gotta be one of my favorites

not sure what my upcoming posting schedule will be either because i just downloaded wuthering waves and my man's (jiyan) banner is about to go away since i didn't start on launch. he goes away in three days. i must have him.

enjoy <3

prompt 7 w/ Belphie

Another day was finally over. It’d been fun, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t long. You had a day out with friends from breakfast, to a movie, then to someone else’s house where you spent the rest of your day hanging out. You hadn’t spent much time with them recently, and you felt as if was much needed catch up time. But, you couldn’t deny how tired you were now that the adrenaline had died down.

You were eager to get home and rest. But, the lounging clothing you’d laid out on your bed was missing. Well, half missing. The pants were exactly where’d you left them, but your shirt was nowhere to be seen. So the hunt for it began. Usually, you’d let it go but it was your last lounge shirt and considering you were currently waiting in the line to do your laundry, you didn’t have a choice.

You started in Mammon’s room. He wasn’t there, so you searched all the usual places he would hide things he snatched from you. While you were searching, he walked in on you rifling through his closet. Once you told him, he vehimently denied, but did suggest you text the group chat asking if anyone else had seen it. You thought it was a pretty good idea, but wanted to check a few more places first, in case it was in plain sight.

Next, you made your way to Levi’s room. It probably wasn’t in there, but if you wanted to ask him, you’d have to go in person. He was too busy playing his games to answer any text messages. After giving the secret knock and password, he opened the door for you. He was happy to see you and asked if you were up to play something with him tonight. However, once you informed him of your situation, he told you he hadn’t seen it, which you kind figured. Both of you knew he hadn’t left his room today. With that, you told him you would love to do something with him later, but you had to continue your search.

You decided to check one more place before you sent out the text. You knew Beel would be in his room because you’d arrived home at around the same time as you and he’d told you he’d be there after his shower. You made sure to knock, and after he opened the door, you asked if he’d seen your shirt. Unfortunately, he says he hadn’t and asked if he could help in any way. You thanked him for his kind offer, and just asked him to keep an eye out for it. With that information, you left and went back to your room.

Since it was your last resort, you sent a message to the group chat, simply asking if anyone had seen it. Everyone reponsed pretty quickly, save for Levi and Belphie. You’d already talked with Levi, and you knew he hadn’t seen it. Belphie, however, you hadn’t seen. He must’ve been asleep somewhere. Not in his own bed, at least. Since you didn’t have anything to wear, you decided to get something small to eat while you mulled over what to do. You could always borrow something from one of the brothers, but you were a little afraid you’d start a war if the other brothers found out you picked someone else. But, you weren’t about to wear any of your any day clothes to bed.

As you grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry and settled in a seat at the kitchen island to think about your next move, Belphie walked in. He had his cow pillow as usual and a blanket that had been a gift from his twin draped around his shoulders. “Mc. You’re back.” He sat next to you and set his head on your shoulder.

“Hey, Belphie. How was your day?” He looked very comfortable, and the way he dragged himself to your side basically answered the question.

“I had a great nap outside today. Beel went out for a hike and carried me on his back. We spent some time at the top of nice hill in some shade. It was great,” he sleepily recalled.

“Glad to hear you had a good day. My day wasn’t nearly as relaxed, but I still enjoyed it.” You unclipped the bag of chips and began munching.

“I was just about to ask how that went.” He looked intrigued at what you were eating, so you turned the bag around so he could see the label.

“Yeah, it was super fun. I won’t like though, I’m tired and I’m not even sure I can stay awake for dinner.” Belphie reached around you to grab a chip. When he did so though, you got a better glimpse at what he was wearing. He had on some slouchy, comfy looking pajama pants, and an awfully familiar shirt. Just the one you’d been searching for. “Belphie, is that my shirt?” You struggled to contain your giggles. You couldn’t believe he’d just had it all along.

“It’s very soft. And I missed you. So I just borrowed it,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” You gave him a quick kiss on the top of his head, much to his delight.

“So, if I borrow your things more often, I get more kisses?” He gazed up at you mischievously.

“As long as you promise to return them. I do need that back today though. Any other time I wouldn’t care, but that’s my last shirt.” With your statement, he shrugged the blanket off his shoulders and moved to remove the shirt. Slightly alarmed, you placed your hands on his shoulders to stop him. “Not right here!” He chuckled at your exclamation.

“Well, you didn’t specify.” He was such a little shit and he knew it. But, he also knew he could get away with it.

“If you’re so eager to take it off, let’s go to my room or something.” It was your turn to laugh.

“What are we waiting for them?” With the most energy you’d seen out of him in the past week, he grabbed your hand and effectively dragged you after him. You had a soft spot for him, and you both knew that. You loved this cheeky, mischievous demon with all your heart. He loved you back to. He always looked at you with a caring, soft gaze that was reserved for you and you alone. How lucky were the both of you.

#obey me #obey me! #obey me x reader #obey me belphie #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date? #obey me! shall we date

[creampuffqueen]

I wanna hear more avatar headcanons! From the novels or just the avatars themselves! I loved reading your kavik and yangchen hcs 🥹🫶🏻

ahhh thank you!! i'm glad you like my random thoughts lol 🫶

here are a few more random thoughts i've been having that i just haven't quite made into posts yet (mostly yangvik because i love them but some other avatars as well):

yangchen is actually a terrible cook 💀 she's basically always had people taking care of her so she never really needed to learn! she can make a good cup of tea and that's about it. she regularly burns rice. she's also just generally bad at remembering to feed herself. kavik, who is a decent cook, is largely the only reason she remembers to eat

as for the other known avatars: kyoshi is by FAR the best cook. she's genuinely good at it. aang is a very close second. roku, kuruk, and wan are all average at it. korra has been banned from every kitchen in republic city

yangchen and kavik both strike me as people who really enjoy physical touch. they both really enjoy cuddling with each other, even before their relationship turns more romantic. acts of service is also a major love language for them

i also feel very strongly that they never used typical labels for their relationship. they usually referred to each other as their 'partner', occasionally 'lover', but most often just continued to use 'companion'. these vague labels frustrate scholars to no end, and today in the atla universe nobody can agree on the nature of their relationship. which is exactly how they wanted it lol, they were extremely private about their relationship

yangchen does have the iconic crooked smile that all the avatars share, but it only comes out when she's well and truly happy about something

her laugh is the same way. she has a very convincing fake laugh, as her real laugh is kind of 'ugly'. it's some kind of snorting, wheezing sound that kind of sounds like she's dying but is also absolutely adorable. yangchen hates it. kavik adores it, and will make an absolute fool of himself trying to hear it

yangchen is a massive, merciless flirt and takes great pleasure in seeing just how red she can make kavik's face turn. but on the rare occasion kavik gets enough confidence to flirt back, she turns into a total mess

pik and pak's favorite place to sleep is right on top of kavik's face

because of how hard she works herself, yangchen often falls asleep in the strangest places. if she's actually tired, she can fall asleep literally anywhere. it's simultaneously a superpower and a massive annoyance

a somewhat sad/bittersweet headcanon i have is that yangchen dies first. i've seen a lot of people saying that she lives to 150 but i can't find a source for that anywhere so i'm choosing to ignore it. yangchen has already watched too many loved ones die, she doesn't need to see kavik die before her as well. they both live very long lives, but kavik outlives her by a few years. after yangchen's death, he returns home to the northern water tribe

at one point, only a few months before his death, he is out for a walk when a little toddler wanders up to him all alone. he chats with him for a few minutes until the boy's parents find them and thank him for watching over their son. 'kuruk, what have we told you about wandering off like that?' the mother asks. the toddler waves goodbye, and kavik walks home feeling oddly contented. he never meets the boy again, and he dies well before kuruk is revealed as the avatar, but he feels a sense of peace from the interaction, knowing deep down that yangchen has made it safely back into the material world

when kavik dies, he wills his bone necklace to kuruk's family. they don't understand why until kuruk's sixteenth birthday. (SERIOUSLY THEIR NECKLACES LOOK ALMOST IDENTICAL ITS WILD)

that's all the thoughts i can scrape up off the top of my head, but i'm just generally thinking about avatar characters All The Time lmao. thank you for asking!!!

#notsosecrettunnel #atla #tlok #chronicles of the avatar #yangvik #yangchen x kavik #avatar yangchen #kavik #yangchen novels #avatar kuruk #atla headcanons

[t3a-tan]

Ooh! 2 for tiny James and human Oliver? (I'm so curious to see how you'd make that situation happen 😭)

2. “So are you just going to keep me in a jar forever, or…?”

Although it did take a minute to figure out a situation that Oliver might trap James in a jar I had a lot of fun with this one hehe

From this!

-----

Since James had gotten more comfortable around Oliver he had also been getting more reckless.

Oliver could remember the first time the borrower took a leap off of the counter, shouting something about a ‘trust fall’. Thankfully he caught him before he could get injured, but that only spurred the man on more… At first Oliver fretted every time, but soon enough it became like a routine.

After realising that James's reckless behaviour was a sign of his trust in him, Oliver became fond of those sorts of interactions. He could usually tell when James would start being more impulsive like that, and the borrower would also avoid messing around too much if Oliver was trying to focus.

Today Oliver was filling in a bunch of forms, flipping between various files and writing notes down for different referrals. He was focused and a bit tired because of how long it was all taking. Even so, he minimised any distractions so he could dedicate himself to the task at hand.

James didn't get the memo clearly.

Oliver was filling the forms in at the kitchen island, and as he worked and sipped on his cup of tea he was suddenly made aware of James’s presence when the borrower climbed onto the island counter.

“What are you up to, mate?” He asked, curiously, moving closer to the forms and inspecting them with a discerning gaze. Oliver had learned that James wasn't able to read and only recognized certain words and phrases for survival purposes, so it was no wonder he didn't understand what he was doing. Still, Oliver was tired from the repetitive task and trying to focus.

“It's for work.” He responded simply, using his right hand to gently shoo the borrower off of the files, worried that they might get footprints on them and he'd have to reprint the papers and fill them in all over again. Oliver yawned slightly, squinting down at the forms with exhaustion. “Can't chat at the moment. Perhaps tomorrow…?”

James bristled at the sight of the giant hand shooing at him, frowning and raising an eyebrow at the human. He looked tired… Why would he keep working if it's making him tired?

“Maybe you should take a break?” He pointed out, moving closer again, not really seeing the importance in all these papers and words… It couldn't hurt to stop for a bit, could it? Oliver certainly seemed like he needed it.

The human shook his head with a hum, continuing to write undeterred by James's advice. James narrowed his eyes slightly before thinking to himself about how he could get his friend to see reason. It wasn't healthy to just stare at paper for that long, surely… Getting a great idea he smirked to himself, side-stepping towards the edge of the counter closest to where Oliver was sitting, before jumping off.

Oliver snapped awake immediately, jolting and quickly catching James before he could reach the floor, falling back off of the stool in the process. He cupped his hands together around James to shield him, but that left him with no hand to brace his fall. He groaned in pain as he fell onto the hardwood floor, nothing broken, but his body wasn't exactly thanking him either.

“James…” He began with a scolding tone as he opened up his hands, revealing the dishevelled borrower and a cheeky smile on his face. Oliver's heart was still racing from the scare— he thought for a moment that he wouldn't be able to catch him in time. “I almost didn't catch you. Why would you do that?”

“But you did.” James pointed out, much to Oliver's frustration. He didn't have the capacity to deal with stuff like this when he was doing time sensitive work and was already exhausted. James shook off the slightly miffed look in the human's eyes, despite how it made his instincts scream in protest. “And like I said, you need a break. Didn't mean to make you fall though…”

Oliver sat up more with a small groan, his back still aching from the sudden fall.

“I don't have time for a break tonight. I apologise, but you need to leave me to my work.” He managed to retain his composure for the most part, trying to emphasise that he needed to focus. He couldn't focus if James was going to be chucking himself off of every surface, whether he was trying to help or not. He stood up.

“Well if you're not gonna take a break, I guess I'll have to keep jumping off until you do.” James insisted stubbornly, crossing his arms. Oliver squinted at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was telling the truth or not because he knew James was a very sarcastic person and he usually didn't pick up on it. With a sigh, he placed James back down on the counter and sat down again.

“If you do that, I'm not against putting you in a jar for the time being whilst I get my work done.” He responded, just in case James was indeed telling the truth. He hoped it would dissuade the borrower, but as he picked his pen up again James did just as he said he would.

Oliver was faster to catch him this time, and even managed to stay seated, but his frown only deepened at the childish behavior his friend was exhibiting. He knew that most borrowers probably lacked an understanding of jobs and how important they were, but he thought James would be at least a little more respectful.

Fine. I did warn him, so he already accepted the consequences beforehand.

Standing up, Oliver walked over to the drawer he kept empty jars in— usually they would be for him to fill with homemade preserves and spices, but tonight they would be filled with a borrower. He pulled one of the taller one's out and placed it onto the counter with a ‘tink’.

“Woah woah— y-you weren't being serious, right Oliver?” James suddenly began to kick at his fingers in protest, but Oliver was too tired to register the very real fear in his friend's movements.

“I’ll let you out when I'm done. It should only take a few hours.” He assured, lowering his hand to the mouth of the jar, tilting it so that James would slide in without any risk of falling and injuring himself. Once he was in the jar Oliver set it down and sat down at the island again, getting to work.

“Oliver! Let me out!” The borrower banged his fists against the glass fruitlessly, panicking slightly at the feeling of being trapped. He can't be serious. He won't actually leave me in here, right?

But as Oliver ignored his shout and picked up his pen, James felt his throat go dry. Oliver was always no nonsense, but he would never go this far… Unless he was actually starting to get sick of him? James sat down at the bottom of the jar silently, watching Oliver write.

After a few hours Oliver didn't let him out— he had fallen asleep at the island counter before finishing, and though James made a few attempts to get him to wake up it didn't work. He was getting more anxious the more time that passed, resigning himself to his fate in the jar for however long Oliver decided to keep him in.

Oliver woke up with his neck aching terribly from the way he had been leaning over and lying his head on the cold hard counter. He yawned, blinking slowly as his surroundings become more clear the more he woke up. Oh. I must have fallen asleep before I finished. What time is it?

He checked his watch, squinting at the numbers. 5:30 AM. That's enough time to finish. He reached towards the pen at his right only to straighten up in surprise at the sight that greeted him. Everything suddenly came rushing back, and Oliver was hit with a wave of guilt as he made eye contact with James, who looked so small huddled in the corner of the jam jar.

“So are you just going to keep me in a jar forever, or…?”

Oliver's eyes widened at the defeated tone James was speaking in, concern furrowing his brows as he leaned down to peer at his friend through the glass, dropping the pen immediately.

“Stars… Of course I'm not, James. I'm sorry, I… I must have fallen asleep.” He shook his head, expression becoming serious although riddled with guilt. “I shouldn't have trapped you in the first place. I wasn't thinking as clearly as I should have been…”

As he reached for the jar he paused again, thinking better of picking James up right now after what he did. He might be scared of me. I would deserve as much…

“Is physical contact okay? Or should I just tilt the jar over?” Part of him was still hopeful that he hadn't broken James's trust enough that he would be uncomfortable with being touched. They had been doing so well after all; Oliver didn't want James to feel like he needed to go back into hiding again… But he would respect it if that was the case.

James seemed to hesitate before averting his gaze guiltily.

“Just…tilt it, please mate.” His voice made it clear that he hadn't slept at all— probably kept awake thinking his friend had suddenly betrayed him.

Oliver nodded slowly and reached forward again, carefully turning the jar so that the borrower could walk out by himself. Once that was done he stood up and put the jar back away in the drawer, gaze lingering on it for a few extra moments.

What does he think of me now?

James watched as Oliver walked around to the other side of the island, staring at his back and thinking to himself. He was still pretty upset about being trapped for so long, and by all means he should be packing up and leaving immediately. But Oliver sounded genuinely remorseful…and honestly, James had never had a friend before. He didn't want to give that up.

He continued to watch as the human sat back down, glancing him up and down for a couple of moments. James took a breath before running and jumping off of the counter, just as he had last night. Please catch me please catch me—

“James!” Oliver's alarmed voice boomed, and James was relieved to feel warm hands close around him. He should feel mortified, but all he could do was smile when he was raised up to his friend's eye level. “I…should I put you down..?” He asked, a hint of nervousness in his furrowed expression.

“Nah.” James replied, patting the thumb beside him. “But you should take that break.”

#g/t community #ocs #g/t artist #ask box #g/t writer #g/t #oc asks #borrowers #ask #giant/tiny #g/t writing #g/t angst #g/t fluff #giant/tiny writing

[rafyki]

Goth! Nico/ Surfer! Percy AU Part 5!

Finally, another chapter!! Back to Percy's POV~ oh I absolutely adore writing him being head over heels for Nico 💕💕

Some more internal panicking, some more flirting, and they're finally getting to know each other~~ 💕

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

You can also read it on AO3!!

~~~~~~

Percy went to the beach two days after ready to bury himself under the sand as soon as he saw Nico, and at the same time ready to show off the best surfing moves he knew. 

I'll look at you surfing and enjoy the ocean from afar, that was what Nico had said. 

Percy had been replaying that moment in his head so many times in the last fifty hours it was now indelibly engraved in his memory. He could picture it perfectly, like it was still right before his eyes - the afternoon light bathing Nico in pretty shadows, that single strand of hair that had escaped his ponytail and was falling on the side of his face, the numerous earrings on his ears shining in the sun, the way he was biting and playing with those on his lips (it must have been an habit of his, and it definitely was an image that had been driving Percy crazy since the first time he had noticed it); Percy had clearly taken him off guard, and his expression had been the prettiest mix of surprise and embarrassment.

Percy had been ready to make up some silly excuse and run away as far as possible to hide his embarrassment and cursing his stupid impulsive mind for even thinking that saying something like let me teach you how to surf to someone he barely even knew was a good idea. 

And yet.

I'll look at you surfing and enjoy the ocean from afar.

He felt like screaming, felt like he could surf all day long even without waves if it meant Nico would look at him.

To be honest, flirting with him hadn’t really been his intention. He just wanted to talk to him, exchange more than those few words of courtesy that were needed to buy something. 

He had not expected it to be this easy.  Somehow, the words had come out easily, and the conversation had felt awkward but nice and natural at the same time - and maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part, but he couldn’t help but think Nico had enjoyed it too.

The smile on his lips had been genuine, the way he had laughed (and oh, wasn’t that the sweetest sound ever? Percy would gladly listen to it forever), talking and asking questions like he hadn’t wanted the conversation to end. 

Somehow flirting had come so natural to Percy as he looked at him - the need of getting to know him, to impress him somehow, to make him smile, to make the moment last as long as possible, all mixing and tangling together; somehow, that had resulted in the filter between his brain and mouth shutting off completely.

It seemed Nico hadn’t minded too much though. Percy’s heart was playing athletics in his chest as he thought about it once again. 

Calm down, he told himself, trying and failing to get a grip on his derailing thoughts. Maybe he just didn’t know what to say and said the first thing he could think of.

Okay, but did he really have to say that? 

He shook his head. No need to think about it, he’d just have to go and face the consequences of his own actions.

Despite all the time spent thinking about it, he wasn’t exactly sure what to expect.

The beach was as hot and nice and crowded as it always was, but Percy couldn’t concentrate on how that usually made him feel, couldn’t ignore his nervousness and the way his insides were tangling and curling together out of anxiety and anticipation.

He didn’t even have Annabeth with him today - he was almost tempted to call her just to scream his struggles to her once again; she was probably tired of listening to him freak out and would tell him to simply go and talk to Nico again. Was she right? Of course she was. Did that make Percy feel any better? Not really, to be honest.

He sighed as he set everything up and got ready. 

Would Nico look at him like he said he would? The simple thought made Percy shake.

He took up his surfing board, heart beating ridiculously faster than it should as he moved closer to the shore. 

And then, right before getting into the water, he turned around. 

Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but there he was, the boy of Percy’s dreams, looking back at him. 

They were far enough from each other that Percy couldn’t see Nico’s expression clearly- maybe he had just happened to be looking that way for a moment. Percy almost expected him to simply turn around and look away like nothing had happened.

But then, Nico raised a hand and waved lightly. Percy’s heart did a flip as he waved back, a smile growing on his lips. 

For a handful of seconds, there was no one else on that beach but them.

Then Nico’s attention was called back by a customer, and with one last glance at Percy, he went back to work. Percy stood there, eyes still fixed on him and smile still in place, for a little longer.

Maybe he’ll be really looking at me, after all.

He was definitely ready to show off everything he could do.

~~~

They weren’t friends exactly, probably not even acquaintances. But something had shifted, and Percy could feel it every time he went to the beach - it wasn’t just him, wasn’t just the anticipation he felt or the way he spent most of his time thinking about the next time he would see and get to talk to Nico again; no, it was in the way they waved at each other in greeting when Percy got there (or sometimes when Nico’s shift started later and Percy got on the beach before him), or the way Nico was always the one who took Percy’s order at the kiosk, the way he smiled at Percy like he was happy to see him, the way Percy let himself linger there for as long as he could and Nico would never shy away from small talks.

It was all the little things piling up that made Percy’s heart run around like crazy, and he couldn’t hold back the smile coming up on his lips every time - he just hoped it didn't look as enamored and lovestruck as he felt.

His crush was growing every day, every moment. Percy could feel himself fall harder and harder with every new word exchanged, every new smile and little laugh, every new thing he learned about Nico. He was probably going a little crazy with how much he liked that boy.

He went to the beach as often as he could, even just to get a glimpse of him and for those fast and precious moments they got to share.

Today he hadn’t planned on going, but he had finished earlier at work and his feet had brought him there almost without him realizing. It was later than usual, and he didn’t even have anything with him. Yet there he was, sitting at his usual place at the kiosk, trying his best not to make it obvious that he was looking at Nico, busy with another customer.

“Nico will take your order in a moment”, the other guy, the blond one who also worked there, told him. 

“It’s okay, I can wait”, Percy replied. It took him a moment to realize that it was weird that the guy hadn’t simply taken his order himself. He worked there too, right? And he didn’t look busy, he was just there chatting with an elf-looking Mexican guy. 

Percy didn’t know if he was feeling more grateful or more embarrassed at this - was it really that obvious that he was there for Nico? At the same time though, the fact that apparently it was a thing, that Percy was Nico’s own customer, that the other guy didn’t even question it, like he knew it - well, it was making Percy feel stupidly giggly and hopeful.

“Ehi, hi Percy”, Nico greeted him, and Percy finally got out of his own head, but only to feel himself fall once again as he met Nico’s eyes and pretty smile. “The usual?”

“Hi, Nico”, he said. His throat felt dry, his heart lost a beat or two. “Yeah, thanks”.

Oh he was too pretty. Annabeth and Grover had laughed at him when Percy had spent a whole evening telling them about every little detail of Nico’s features, how he must have been an angel - because there was no way a human being could be that incredibly and otherworldly beautiful, right?

No, you’re just completely gone for that guy, Seaweed brain, Annabeth had said.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen you having this big of a crush, Percy, had been Grover’s contribution.

And they were both absolutely right. Percy really didn’t remember the last time he had been so head over heels for someone, couldn’t even remember the last time he had had a crush at all. But Nico - god, Nico was making him feel everything all at once.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today”, Nico said, and Percy’s brain short-circuited for a moment. So Nico thought about seeing him? Did he look forward to see him just as much as Percy did? 

“The weather isn’t so good and it looks like the waves aren’t big enough to surf”, Nico kept going.

Percy needed a second to find his words, too enraptured by the shy yet curious look in Nico’s eyes. He had such a nice voice, too, Percy loved listening to him talk.

“Uhm, yeah, I actually wasn’t planning on coming today”, he managed to say in the end. “But I finished earlier at work, so I thought I’d pass by and get my favorite drink”.

Nico smiled softly at that, and Percy counted it as a victory.

“You’re literally the only one who orders this”, Nico said.

“So it’s like a special drink just for me?”

Flirting came to him way too easy when he talked to Nico. Maybe it was the need to see the light blush tinting his cheeks. He blushed so easily, and it was always so evident on his pale skin. Percy loved it.

This time too, Nico rolled his eyes at him, but the blush was there. It was starting to become Percy’s new favorite color.

“Where do you work at?”, Nico asked after a moment. Percy didn’t mind too much that he had ignored his previous flirting. It was endearing, really, that Nico was so shy. 

“Oh I teach kids how to swim at the pool near here”.

Somehow, that seemed to hit Nico, because he stopped to look at Percy with such surprise and awe in his eyes that it was Percy’s turn to blush in embarrassment. He was looking at him like Percy had just told him he went around saving the world on a daily basis.

“That’s so…”, Nico started, then stopped, cleared his throat and looked away. “That’s cute. You look like you’d be good with kids”.

“You think so?”, Percy smiled.

He liked sharing things with Nico, liked telling him about himself, cherished it when Nico told him something about himself. 

“Do you like working here?”

“I do, I guess. It’s a good summer job”, Nico said, meeting Percy’s eyes. “And it’s allowing me to meet some interesting people”.

Percy's heart started to beat ridiculously loud in his chest. “Yeah? You don’t look like you like meeting people a lot though”.

That made Nico’s laugh. Percy sort of wanted to drown in the sound.

“I don’t, usually”, Nico said. “But I guess I can make an exception for some people”.

Percy wanted to kiss him so bad. Wanted to take him on a date and make him smile and laugh the whole time, wanted to hold his hand as he told him about himself, wanted to share everything he could with him, wanted to card his fingers through his dark silky hair and pull him closer and closer to him until he could press his lips to his and feel the rings under his teeth.

“Some special people?”

Another laugh, and that beautiful shade of pink on his cheeks. “Yeah, special”.

Oh Percy was so far gone for him.

#percy jackson #nico di angelo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #percico #nicercy #pernico #percy x nico #pjo #i had actually written another chapter before this then realize that i needed them to get to know them a little more #before that #so i have the next chap almost completly written already #and the chap after that! i cant wait to write it!!! i have it planned it out already #our disaster boys are getting there #oh but how i love writing them pining for each other #my fics #goth/surfer percico

[leclercsluvs]

MV1 | Echoes of Sorrow

an: this is sorta loosely based on a song from 2006 that i used to listen to all the time. considering it's not an english song, i'm not going too much after it, just kinda the "plot" of the song. it's danish by the duo nik & jay and its called 'når et lys slukkes' so if you're up for it you can take a listen. warning: kidnapping, swearing, death, drunk driving, murder, car crash, google translated french, not proof read word count: 2.8k

max knew bringing you into his life was dangerous, but it wasn't until he got the call that he realized just how dangerous it actually was. you hadn’t been in danger in the 4 years you’d been dating. but then again, max didn’t quite know the dangers of what he had gotten himself into in the beginning. he thought it was just an innocent way to get a ton of money. boy was he wrong. now he’s sitting in a bar at 12 pm, because he didn’t know what to do. it’s been raining all week, and right now, it most certainly is not helping his mood. 

“can i have a refill?” max mumbles to the bartender, pushing his glass forward. he hasn't been here for that long, but he’s definitely had more than he should have. but he needs to clear his head a little, and he couldn’t do that sober, at least that was his excuse for ending up at the bar. 

“i think you’ve had enough,” the bartender walks over to him, putting a hand in front of max “can i have your keys? you’re not driving anywhere like this.” 

“i didn’t bring my keys,” max lies so effortlessly. “someone drove me here, i’ll just call a cab” he gets up and walks towards the door. he can feel the tears stinging in his eyes, but he isn’t interested in crying in front of anyone. not right now. he just needs a bit more liquor and he's set. he can find you. you’re counting on him. 

in fact, you knew max was coming. he had been telling you ever since you started dating, that if anything were to happen to you, he’d be the first to start looking for you. and right now, that hope, that was all you needed. you needed the knowledge that someone was coming. someone was looking for you. you didn’t exactly know how you ended up tied together in the trunk of a car, but you sure knew, this was not on your to-do list today. you weren’t even sure who was driving the car you were in, and you couldn’t feel your phone in your pocket, so you had no way to call max.

max stumbles into the small convenience store and picks up a bottle of vodka “this will probably do” he mumbles and walks to the cash register to pay.

“mr. verstappen! what are you doing here so early? i didn't think you’d be back today, i don't have it here” the owner of the store looks almost terrified to see him back. well to be fair he was here collecting a big sum of money just a few days ago, and let’s just say, it didn’t quite go as everyone had wanted. they still had some cleaning up to do.

“i’m not here for business today,” max says, as he places the bottle on the counter “just had to pick up this” he looks up at the man across him, eyes blank, on the brink of tears. he won't do it yet though. not around people. he might be liked and respected as of right now, but all that could change oh so quickly. especially if he broke down over this. so many people in this business had suffered worse and he was on the brink of crying because his girlfriend had been kidnapped? and he didn’t even fully know if it was true yet.

“oh, well that will be 20 dollars” max barely gives him time to finish before the money is on the counter, bottle in his hand and he's walking towards the door. he needs time alone. now. he needs to process.

as the car came to a stop, you couldn’t do anything but hold your breath, would you know the person that had taken you? or would he be a total stranger? the trunk opened and the rain disappointed you. was it really on a rainy day you got kidnapped? a man’s face appeared and you couldn’t help the fear creeping in.

“so you are max’s girl now?” he spoke with a french accent. if he wasn’t a kidnapper, you would have found it kinda hot. but under the circumstances it was anything BUT hot. 

“what do you want us to do with her?” a different voice asked, you sorta recognized it, but only faintly. was he the one that had technically kidnapped you? most likely. 

“get her inside. i have to call max. he needs to know for sure that we have her. i want him in the most panicked state possible, before i send the body to him.” the body? was he talking about yours? god you were going to die. on a rainy day. how awesome. the frenchman walked away and his friend came into view, picking you up as easy as if you were a bag of flour. you tried everything to get out. not really interested in this new fate of yours.

max barely makes it to the car before his phone rings. he looks at the caller id. it’s an unknown number. he hesitates for a second, then realizes it could be someone with news about you, so he quickly accepts the call and brings the phone to his ear “hello?” he unscrews the cap on the bottle of vodka, and takes a quick sip as he waits for a reply from the unknown caller.

“is this max verstappen?” he sighs. doubting it’s about you if they have to ask if it's him.

“yes. this is max” he replies while screwing the cap back on the bottle. “who am i speaking with?”

“you should come see for yourself. if you want to see your girlfriend again” the voice states and gives an address and max wastes no time getting there. tears running down his cheeks, he’s silent tho, he just has to get to you. he needs to get you back. he can't let anything happen to you. he can’t lose you.

against your will you were placed on a chair in the middle of a nicely decorated room on the second floor of a huge house. you started losing hope. they weren't going to wait long. not if their plan to be able to send you body to max was going to be successful. panic and fear started to mix when you were left alone in the room with your thoughts. thoughts about how this stranger was going to murder you and then send your body to max. you couldn’t stop imagining his face. if he knew about you by now, he would be looking for you. you knew it. it had to be like that. right? he told you so many times. he would get to you. you needed him. your only hope was him. 

max walks up to the front door, feeling 100% sober, however the bottle is still in his hand, could it be useful? maybe if it was empty. he has to get you out alive and safe though, so anything was helpful. the front door is slightly open so he pushes it further open hoping no one is there. he would like for this to be a bit of a surprise. he left his phone in the car, so it wouldn’t suddenly ring or vibrate and expose him.

the first room he steps into is a living room, nicely decorated. a lot of expensive furniture. “this asshole sure loves spending money” max mutters to himself as he moves further into the house, looking behind every door he comes past.

he makes it into the kitchen. he hasn't run into anyone yet but he knows it won't be long and he doesn't have any way to defend himself, except for the bottle, but how useful is that really? he looks around the room and his gaze lands on a set of kitchen knives. almost glinting on the table, asking him to take one with him, so he does and moves further until he gets to a staircase. he can hear faint voices coming from upstairs, but he can't hear who they belong to or what the topic is. he quietly makes his way up the stairs, knife ready in his right hand, bottle in his left hand. he’s prepared for any surprise this might throw at him. 

before reaching the very top stop, he stops and wipes his eyes before taking the last step up. he looks around making sure they aren't right there just waiting for him. he moves towards the voices and his entire body stiffens as he hears your voice “don't hurt him! please! i’ll do anything to keep him safe,” max takes a couple more steps and stops, the voices are much louder now.

“everything huh?” max hears the french accent and immediately knows who it is. pierre. pierre fucking gasly. max is seething with rage. he can feel it in every fiber of his being. “how about,” the voice trails off and max hears you let out a whimper and his mind is suddenly full of all the things pierre could be doing to you. when max hears the second whimper, it’s clear pierre is doing something to inflict pain on you, and it’s almost as if something changes inside max. he’s barely got enough self control to stay put and put together a plan. but any plan he makes won’t be good enough if he doesn't do something now.

just as he’s about to jump in and do god knows what he hears your voice “va te faire foutre” (fuck off - google translate) you spit out, and he can’t help but feel proud, even if he has no clue what you said. he stands like that for a few seconds, until your muffled cry is heard and he springs into action, not even thinking about what he’s about to do, right in front of you.

both you and pierre, who didn’t hear max arrive, both get startled and rightfully so, who wouldn't be startled if a man comes at you with a knife, rage in his eyes. he won’t let anything happen. even if that means he has to kill. he’ll do it. he’ll do it for you. he tackles pierre in less than 2 seconds simply because he wasn’t prepared. stupid. max quickly gets himself positioned so pierre has no way of moving and then brings out the knife, taunting pierre a bit before he makes his first cut. no one will be able to identify pierre when max is done with him. however he hasn't noticed that you're tied to the chair, forced to watch as max digs the knife into pierres skin, slowly, dragging out the pain. as pierre thinks the first part is over, max quickly places the knife in his abdomen, making pierre cough up a bit of blood and just look at the knife with pure shock and horror in his eyes. max locks their eyes and keeps eye contact as he twists the knife making pierre groan in pain. funnily enough max is quite enjoying this. he slowly pulls out the knife, but not for long, he has a lot of work ahead of him. he doesn’t plan to let pierre off the hook easily. 

the red blood seems to never stop seeping out of the many wounds inflicted by max. it feels like it’s everywhere. the carpet, the walls, max’s hands. pierre. he's a mess. not recognisable at all. max gets up and looks around to see where you might have gone, only to see you strapped to the chair, tears never stopping from falling down your cheeks as you just stare at the mess in front of you. “what did you do? what the hell did you do?!” you almost scream, pain radiating from your voice. not only from what you just had to witness, but also from the wound above your knee. blood trickling down your leg. he should have noticed, he should have known. stupid. stupid. stupid! how could he miss this?

he rushes to your side, putting pressure on your wound, looking around for something he can use instead of his hands, but he can’t see anything useful. “please tell me you’re going to be okay.” max looks at your leg, the blood doesn't stop, his hands aren't enough.

your face is still full of tears, your skin looking a little pale. sweat starts to cover your skin. it almost looks like you just took a shower in your clothes “omg max,” you mumble, barely able to get the sentence out “did you just kill him?” you look at him with wide eyes as a sudden headache hits you, your vision becomes blurry, “what’s that ringing sound?” you ask, confused, barely able to focus, anxiety creeping into your brain, consuming all your thoughts.

max is just confused. there is no ringing. it's completely quiet, except for pierres ragged breaths. “i’m not sure what you’re talking about, schat, there is no ringing”

“the pain stopped.” max looked up at you, in horror at what you had just said. you couldn't not be in pain. he can’t leave the scene like this though so he unscrews the cap on the bottle he brought with him and pours it around pierre. he’s not sure this is going to look like an accidental fire, but does he really care about that right now? no. he only cares about you, and he needs to get you to a hospital now! he quickly gets you free from the chair, takes a lighter out of his pocket. he rips off a small piece of fabric from his shirt, and lights it on fire. he lets go of it and lets it drop to the floor where a ring of fire quickly spreads around pierre.

he has to move quickly now. he picks you up, your body already feels lifeless. he gets you to the car, luckily without running into any of pierre’s men. it was only a matter of time before they noticed the fire. 

he had to get to the hospital as quickly as he could. he floored the accelerator. getting you to the hospital is the only thing on his mind this second. and he did make it. however, your body was limp, lifeless. and he was afraid it was too late. but he still had to try, he didn't have time to feel for a pulse, just had to get you in quickly. 

“help! please!” he walked through the doors with you in his arms, multiple doctors running towards him.

“what happened?” a nurse asks while someone else asks for a gurney.

“i’m not sure, i was told to go to a location, and i found her inside, strapped to a chair with a wound above her knee” max basically told the truth, except for the part about pierre. no one had to know about that. no one would know about that.

“put her here, and we'll do our best to save her,” the nurse gestures to the gurney being pushed towards them in a hurry. they all disappear in a hurry, doing everything they can. max doesn't see much, but he does see that no one gives you CPR, which must mean you have a pulse. he looks down and notices his hands, covered in blood. which must mean his car is covered in blood too. which means he needs to clean it. 

he rushes out, rushing to his car. he has to get home, get it cleaned up. he can't seem to stop crying. and the fact it’s raining isn’t helping his vision at all. he pushes on the accelerator a bit more. his head is full of thoughts. thoughts of you, dying, it being his fault, he never had to get into this business.he decides to put on some music, and the song currently being played is one of the new ones from taylor swift. max doesn't mind it. he actually relates a little to the song. he turns up the volume and listen to the chorus of “who’s afraid of little old me”

a tear falls down his left cheek, as the roads get a bit narrower. this doesn't make him slow down. quite the opposite actually. he speeds up more. he likes the thrill of it. his alcohol level is way too high for him to be driving this quickly, in a part of town with a lot of traffic lights and pedestrians. 

he doesn't see the red light until it’s too late. the woman crossing the road to reach her friend doesn't notice either, her boyfriend does though, and he leaps out in front to try and push her out of the way. however, he doesn't manage to do it in time. max’s foot slams down on the break, but it’s too late. max closes his eyes, he knows how this will end. he hears a bang and all light disappears.

~

i haven't made a written fic since my wattpad days back in 2020 so i'm not sure how good this is. sorry about the cliffhanger hehealso very sorry i haven't posted in many days, i lowkey forgot about all of these, and then i got a tiny bit busy so when i did remember i didn't have time to write. anyway enjoy this while i work on something more

#formula 1 #f1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen!mafia #mafia max verstappen #max #verstappen #mv33 #mv1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n

[inawickedlittletown]

Rather Be The Hunter Than The Prey (BuckTommy) - 3/3

Summary: Buck doesn't tell Tommy immediately about the big change at the 118. Tommy decides to do something about it.

Author's note: Title comes from Natural by Imagine Dragons.

Everyone on Ao3 wanted a part two for the little coda I wrote post-episode 7x10. And I guess I did too. So now it's a three parter.

Part One - Part Two

Read on Ao3

-

“No,” Buck said. “Tommy, this is a horrible idea. You don’t know her.” 

Buck hadn’t even really told Tommy much about Taylor. Most of the LAFD knew her, though. If not for breaking the story about Jonah, then because of the book. She’d made her name in other ways too and Buck hated whenever he spotted her at a call or when he turned a tv on and she was on. He had succeeded in avoiding her for so long and didn’t want to bring her back now. 

“I’m just saying that we need her because she crosses lines. She’ll pursue the story once she knows there is one and she can help us take out Gerrard.” 

Buck didn’t think that Tommy really understood who Taylor was. He had listened to Tommy’s whole plan. He’d even taken notes as Tommy detailed everything he set in motion. He knew that Tommy was making sense, he was just a little wary about Taylor. He’d already made the mistake of trusting her in the past and this time around, they couldn’t afford her to go off the rails even if that was maybe exactly what they were counting on. 

“I guess maybe she does owe me one,” Buck said. “I’ll call and see if she will come meet with us.” 

“That’s all I ask,” Tommy said, smiling at him in a way that made Buck want to kiss him and maybe even drag him back up the stairs to his bed. 

He called after breakfast and after they had cleaned up his kitchen. Tommy was at his side, offering support. At least, Buck wasn’t the only one that had had to talk to an ex this morning. 

“Buckley, why are you calling me?” Taylor said. 

“Hey, Taylor,” Buck said. “I, uh, I was hoping we could meet up.”

She laughed at him. “If this is some kind of booty call, I’m not interested.”

“No…no, nothing like that. I’m…I’m dating someone. Listen, it’s about a story you could report on. It’s better if we explain in person. Are you free at all today?” 

“Yeah,” Taylor said after a pause. “I can be. What kind of story are we talking about?”

“Getting an awful man out of a job that puts him in a position of power that could determine life or death,” Buck said. 

“Oh,” Taylor said. “That sounds…yeah, I can meet up.” 

They set up a time and Taylor agreed to meet at the loft even though Buck thought it might be weird for her. It didn’t seem to be probably exactly because of who Taylor was. He’d already piqued her interest and now nothing else mattered. 

It was a few hours later when Taylor knocked on his door. Buck braced himself for seeing her again. Then, he walked over to open the door. She was still Taylor. Her red hair was in loose ringlets that framed her face in a way that made her approachable and cute. She did look awkward for a moment, but then she smiled. 

“Hi.” 

“Uh, hi,” Buck said, letting her in. “Come in. Do you want a drink?” 

“Water,” she said and headed straight for the table, where she deposited her purse. “So what exactly is this—” Taylor trailed off. 

Holding the glass of water in hand, Buck turned. Taylor was turned towards the stairs where Tommy was making his way down. Buck almost laughed, because in a way he was getting used to seeing the reaction that people had to Tommy. He couldn’t blame them — couldn’t blame Taylor — Tommy was certainly eye-catching. 

He set her glass of water on the table and that seemed to break the spell.  She immediately turned to him, question in the raise of her eyebrow. 

“Tommy, Taylor’s here,” Buck said. 

“Thought I heard the door,” Tommy said as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “Casey says everyone he got in touch with is in.”

“Taylor, this is Tommy,” Buck said. 

“Hi,” Tommy said. 

Tommy offered his hand and Taylor shook it. She looked thrown and though Buck had seen Taylor in many different forms and states, this was still somewhat new. 

“Take a seat,” Tommy said. “Evan can start explaining.”

“Right,” Buck said and he motioned for Taylor to sit. She did, watching Buck carefully. 

“Bobby got replaced at the 118 through a series of circumstances,” Buck said and he explained it all, knowing that he was probably leaving out more than he should. 

Taylor drank some of her water before speaking once Buck was done. “Sounds like an asshole to me,” she said. “What does this have to do with me?” 

“Well,” Tommy said, taking his own seat. “We were hoping that you would help us expose Gerrard for exactly who he actually is.” 

Taylor leaned back in her chair. “You know, the last time I did a profile on the 118, the department shut it down. Made it into a fluff piece.” 

“And yet you still managed to use your connection to Evan to get that story on Greenway out, putting his job and reputation at risk,” Tommy said. 

Buck inhaled. He hadn’t expected Tommy to bring that up. 

Taylor had the decency to look contrite. She didn’t even try to defend herself. She did look from Tommy to Buck and back again. 

“Defensive, I like it,” she said in the end. 

“You also published an unapproved book about the LAFD,” Tommy pointed out. “I have the approval, or at least the consent of the Assistant Fire Chief,” Tommy revealed. “Well, to an extent.”

“Who even are you?” Taylor shot back. 

“My boyfriend,” Buck answered. 

Taylor laughed and laughed and then she clapped her hands. “Wow. Didn’t see that one coming. Maybe I should have, come to think of it. Alright, boys, I guess count me in.” 

It took a very long two weeks for everything to be worked out. Every shift that Buck had leading up to it made him antsy. He was glad when everything was finally in place. 

Chief Williams scheduled Taylor’s stop by the 118, including the invitation for Tommy to be there. She also made sure that Chief Simpson was available. Buck had helped to set up cameras to capture everything that went on with Gerrard in the time leading up to the interview. He’d had to be a bit sneaky about it, but Taylor had provided everything they needed. At Tommy’s instruction, he didn’t share their plan with anyone. It meant that the cameras captured everything as organically and as genuinely as they happened. 

Gerrard making a limp hand motion at Buck was right there as clear as day. Gerrard making a comment about Hen only lasting for so long because she was practically a man. His dismissiveness of Chim’s contributions as a paramedic when they lost someone on the way to the hospital. The way he berated Ravi and said stuff about how the department was going nowhere with the diversity hires. All of it was captured on camera and more. So much more. 

Eddie, Hen, and Chim thought it was ridiculous that Taylor Kelly was coming to interview them. Gerrard shared the news after returning from a call. Buck had to pretend that he was upset about it too and when Gerrard got wind that she was Buck’s ex-girlfriend, it seemed to make him want her there more. 

Buck had never seen him more welcoming of anyone, the way Gerrard was with Taylor. It was yet another big difference between him and Bobby. He treated Taylor like an honored guest, offering her coffee and water and showing her around with warmth that made him seem fatherly — or maybe grandfatherly considering his age. It was eerie. It almost made Buck doubt that the plan would work.  

Taylor took her time. Buck hated her a little for it, for how she asked them about the rescue of Bobby and Athena and how it felt to be rewarded for it. He could see how Hen and Chim took it all in as much good humor as they could muster. Eddie was monosyllabic. 

Then, she singled out Gerrard. 

“This is so pointless,” Chim said. 

They were in the kitchen. Buck had sort of steered them there. Hen had been throwing him a few looks as if she suspected something. Meanwhile, Taylor was with Gerrard, cameras pointed at him. She was keeping things light at first. 

Chief Williams and Chief Simpson hadn’t arrived. It was possible they wouldn’t, but Buck hoped they would. 

Tommy got there and they all saw how Gerrard stiffened when he walked up the stairs. 

“Sorry I’m late. Traffic. Well, some kind of demonstration outside. I think some people heard there were reporters here today.” 

“Some people?” Hen asked. 

Tommy didn’t answer. Buck just hoped the live feed was working, they’d figured it was better if Gerrard didn’t know other people were there to see it all.

At the table, Gerrard suddenly stood up. “What kind of question is that?” he said, louder than necessary. “Things were better when people knew their place. None of the quotas for diversity that need to be met so no one gets their tiny little feelings hurt.” 

“I just thought it’d feel great to have such an inclusive firehouse,” Taylor said. “To lead the 118 which I know is quite diverse and doesn’t look like what the fire department even in LA looked like in the past.” 

Gerrard just stared at her. 

“Of course, I do know you aren’t happy that diversity exists,” Taylor said. “I wonder why take the job at this house at all.”

“What are you talking about, girl?” 

“I’m talking about how you act around the people you are supposed to lead. The very same people that literally run into fires to protect the public who you in turn are supposed to support and protect and lead.”

Gerrard didn’t respond. His jaw was tightening. 

“Earlier today I posted a little preview for the interview. Just some of the things I’ve uncovered along with the many many complaints made against you by your own firefighters. Some investigating into your placement here also revealed a few things I’ll be looking into after this.” 

Buck watched Taylor a little bit in awe. Tommy was at his side and he felt the heat of him from how close they were standing. Ordinarily they wouldn’t stand so close, but it was nice to just rub it in, especially when Gerrard looked their way. How he glared at them like his eyes could set them on fire. 

“She’s really a spitfire, isn’t she,” Tommy said. 

“That wears off,” Buck said. 

“What?” 

“Being impressed by her.” 

Tommy laughed. 

“What is happening right now?” Ravi asked. 

“Someone needed to take out the trash,” Tommy said. 

“You said people were here?” Hen asked. 

“Do you know how many queer first responders there are in LA?” Tommy asked. 

It all happened quickly, in a way. Gerrard responded with anger and vitriol and demands that Taylor take her videos down once his demands to see them brought Taylor’s tablet out and ready. It wouldn’t even matter if she took them down, though, not with the reach that Taylor had these days and not with the work that had been put into getting them out into the wider public. Buck had even gotten Josh to share it over the dispatch twitter. 

Gerrard was still demanding Taylor take the videos off when he seemed to then realize that the videos had come from inside the firehouse. That’s when he turned on them. Rushing towards them, face red in anger. His eyes seemed to narrow on Tommy and Buck and how close they stood. Buck almost moved away, but Tommy didn’t let him. 

“Which one of you?” He asked. “Putting cameras in here without anyone’s consent? Spying! Who the fuck do you think you are?” 

“Who do you think you are?” Chim asked. 

“I’m your Captain,” Gerrard ground out. 

“Bobby is our Captain,” Hen said. 

Gerrard pointed his finger at Hen. “So, it was you!” 

Hen shook her head. “No, but I give props to whoever did it and I wish they had let me help.” 

“This is hostile! It’s an attack and a breach of—”

Gerrard was closer than ever, coming at Chim and Hen. Tommy stepped away from Buck. He got between them and Gerrard. Buck could see that it was taking everything for Tommy to do so and despite how big of a man he was literally and figuratively, this was still hard for him. Buck wanted nothing more than to step forward and offer him a hand to hold. He knew he couldn’t. Tommy had asked him not to if it came to it. 

“I did this,” Tommy said. 

His voice was little more than a whisper, but he cleared his throat. 

“No one deserves to work under you, to be belittled every day while doing a job that is already full of risk and that requires trust. No one needs to hear the vitriol that comes out of your mouth or the little motions because you think it’s only men like you that deserve to be here. They don’t. I won’t stand aside and let you do this to anyone. I won’t let you hurt them or put them in a position of getting hurt.” 

“Of course it’s you, Kinard. Still a coward, still a groveling people pleaser. Should have known you like to be down on your knees like the faggot you are.” 

Buck felt like his heart had gotten caught in his throat. His ears were ringing. He wanted to pull Tommy back, wrap him up in his arms at the same time as he wanted to just throw a punch. Buck heard a general gasp go around them and it was louder because it came from the people down below. Casey and everyone that had come with him. 

“None of you deserve to work here. In fact, none of you do. I will make sure this is the end of your careers with the LAFD,” Gerrard said. “You’re all fired.”  

“No,” Assistant Chief Williams said. “They are not.” 

They saw Gerrard’s face go from red to pale white. He sputtered, but no words came out. 

“Chief Williams is correct,” Chief Simpson said, at her heels. “I didn’t know why she insisted I come down here, but I’m glad she did. I see now I made a mistake in placing you here, Vincent.” 

Buck stepped towards Tommy, reaching for his hand and he felt Tommy grasp his tightly. 

It didn’t matter what Chief Simpson said to Taylor about what she could air, or how he wanted to handle things. Not with the crowd that Casey had gathered and not with all the things that Taylor had gotten up on Instagram and TikTok. He couldn’t put a stop to it, not even the spin that Taylor managed to put to things because as Buck had pointed out, Taylor wouldn’t just allow them to dictate things. This time, it was to their advantage. 

After all, it was Taylor that found the connection between Councilwoman Ortiz which became a much larger partly unrelated story. One that Taylor was hell bent on investigating. 

“She knew about him,” Taylor said to him as her camera man was packing up. “Ortiz asked him to put himself forward for this job. I just don’t know why.” 

Buck told her to talk to Hen and Karen. 

After it was all said and done and Bobby was reinstated as Captain, Buck found himself tucked into Tommy’s side out in Hen’s backyard where Hen and Karen were hosting the celebration for everything beginning to revert back to normal. 

“You’re a little bit scary, you know,” Chim said to Tommy.  

“Not really,” Karen put in. “He’s on our side.” 

“I just did what I wish I had been capable of doing a long time ago,” Tommy said. 

Buck kissed his shoulder. It was a little early, but he really did think he wanted to keep Tommy forever. 

#911 abc #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tevan #kinley #evan buckley #tommy kinard

[fdelopera]

today i opened Elie Wiesel's second volume of portraits of 18th and 19th century Hasidic masters. and i came upon this story about Rebbe Pinhas of Koretz.

Wiesel's portraits continue to resonate through the years. and the wisdom they offer is more relevant now than ever.

as Wiesel says, "a good story in Hasidism is not about miracles, but about friendship and hope — the greatest miracles of all".

that's true of the Jewish community too. the Jewish community continues to be a place of friendship and hope in the face of darkness.

here is the full text of Wiesel's anecdote:

.

One day, a young Hasid came to see Rebbe Pinhas of Koretz, known for his wisdom and compassion.

“Help me, Master,” he said. “I need your advice, I need your support. My distress is unbearable; make it disappear. The world around me, the world inside me, are filled with turmoil and sadness. Men are not human, life is not sacred. Words are empty — empty of truth, empty of faith. So strong are my doubts that I no longer know who I am — nor do I care to know. What am I to do, Rebbe? Tell me, what am I to do?”

“Go and study,” said Rebbe Pinhas of Koretz. “It's the only remedy I know. Torah contains all answers. Torah is the answer.”

“Woe unto me,” said the disciple. “I am unable even to study. So shaky are my foundations, so all-pervasive my uncertainties, that my mind finds no anchor, no safety. It wanders and wanders, and leaves me behind. I open the Talmud and contemplate it endlessly, aimlessly. For weeks and weeks I remain riveted to the same page, to the same problem. I cannot go farther, not even by a step, not even by a line. What must I do, Rebbe, what can I do to go on?”

When a Jew can provide no answer, he at least has a tale to tell. And so Rebbe Pinhas of Koretz invited the young man to come closer, and then said with a smile, “You must know, my friend, what is happening to you also happened to me. When I was your age I stumbled over the same obstacles. I, too, was filled with questions and doubts. About man and his fate, creation and its meaning. I was struggling with so many dark forces that I could not advance; I was wallowing in doubt, locked in despair. I tried study, prayer, meditation. In vain. Penitence, silence, solitude. My doubts remained doubts. Worse: they became threats. Impossible to proceed, to project myself into the future. I simply could not go on. Then one day I learned that Rebbe Israel Baal Shem Tov would be coming to our town. Curiosity led me to the shtibl, where he was receiving his followers. I entered just as he was finishing the Amida prayer. He turned around and saw me, and I was convinced that he was seeing me, me and no one else. The intensity of his gaze overwhelmed me, and I felt less alone. And strangely, I was able to go home, open the Talmud, and plunge into my studies once more. You see,” said ready Pinhas of Koretz, “the questions remained questions. But I was able to go on.…”

What did Pinhas of Koretz try to teach his young visitor? One: Not to give up. Even if some questions are without answers, go on asking them. Two: Doubts are not necessarily destructive — provided they bring one to a Rebbe. Three: One must not think that one is alone and that one's tragedy is exclusively one's own; others have gone through the same sorrows and endured the same anguish. Four: One must know where to look, and to whom. Five: God is everywhere, even in pain, even in the search for faith. Six: A good story in Hasidism is not about miracles, but about friendship and hope — the greatest miracles of all.

#this was exactly what i needed to read today... #jewish history #jumblr #judaism #jewblr #jewish tradition #elie wiesel

[coquelicoq]

gurathin, thiago, indah...starting to get the sense that if murderbot didn't have any specific person playing the role of "someone i deep down respect who i'm convinced hates me" at any given time, presaux would have to assign someone, for enrichment purposes

#murderbot #the murderbot diaries #mb needs an anti-support human. like instead of a service dog it has a human that frowns at it sometimes #and it interprets these frowns as 'oh i guess this human just HATES ME. i guess we're ENEMIES. but WHATEVER I'M FINE WITH IT' #even though that's just what this human's face does when they're thinking really hard or something #like i'm rereading network effect and every time mb is cranky about thiago not liking it i'm like. babe you are reading way into it #he's skeptical. you love skepticism! he does not hate you he's just being cautious #in some ways quite similar to you really #'thiago doesn't trust me. how DARE HE' babe we have been here before #that's exactly what you said about gurathin! #i mean is he an asshole? yes. but so are you and so is your best mutual administrative assistant. you love assholery #i just think it's funny that 1) mb trusts no one until it knows them really well and 2) mb is SO OFFENDED when people who don't know it #super well don't trust it fully and implicitly right off the bat #my posts #f #well it's christmas and i don't have anywhere to be today because my family stuff is on monday this year. so i am very bored #you know what that means. deep dive into the drafts #also probably trying to find an ask meme to reblog #this draft is from july i think

[xhanisai]

.

#Delete later #Don't read this if you're a fan of kagami cos today I'm feeling livid about her behaviour and actions in s5 #Everything that salters claimed alya would be is exactly what kagami was #I feel like the reason I'm so pissed is cos I've had bitches do that to me in my school days too #Marinette gave her so much and this is what she got in return #She had her important secrets told to the person who helped the enemy and whose morals didn't align with hers #She made this girl a fucking superhero and brought her into her friendship group #AND THIS IS WHAT SHE GOT IN RETURN LOL #And the worst thing for me is that I don't see anyone talking about it and being like #Uwu kagami is such a helpless lonely girl uwu #FUCK HER #Don't get me started with the way she bitched at adrien for not standing up to gabriel at the end of s4 #She was terrible to both adrinette!!! #Alya and nino deserve a better fanbase #Adrinette deserves a better fanbase #If you're a fan of kagami that's completely fine and you're well within your rights to love her no matter what #But I will forever be pissed at her for this so don't expect any fanart or fics about her from me #I won't draw or write her unless she's needed for a plot or whatever #And don't worry I'm not gonna write salt about her or anything like that #And any of my work that involves her will stay in a positive or neutral light because we don't need more negativity in this fandom #I know this is a long rant but I'm just so annoyed #It just hits close to home for me #Cos I've been in Marinette's position #Lol

[love-songs-for-emma]

they say that "time heals all wounds" but i honestly think that upping my anti-depressants has done more for me

#.jokes #hashtag comedy #ok but actually. upping my dosage has rocked my world this last week #i hope this continues!!!!!!! #today is The Day im Feeling It #still a very tired busy guy but at least im not explodingexplodingexploding #also on a serious note. time just passes. it passes no matter what. time is not a remedy to trauma #time will go on but you may get stuck on loop. therapy. unpacking what happened to you. finding coping mechanisms that #work for you. medication maybe. these r things that help #the pain still exists. and it can be just as strong depending on the trauma. but hopefully the time between incidents/episodes lessens #fill the space where u feel capable and free with love laughter joy. fill it with little tasks that set you up to have a better time when #things r feeling bad again #sometimes ill do smth as small as writing out a phone number i need to call in the morning Just to cut out the step of googling it in the #morning. bc in the morning The Phone Call may seem monumental and impossible. but a lil bit less so if everything i need ( #the number & what i wanna say) are written out before me #also also. last thing. the beginning of this is to be read exactly how the person in ''it could take 5 or 6 stores or just 1'' says it #thank u. #.txt #maria is literally just rambling. hi #personal #yes this ok to reblog. its meant to make u snort #mental health #/pos #silly hour!

[disdaidal]

I don't want to brag or sound too optimistic about it, but after three weeks of training at a private college, I think my lessons with this one particular immigrant student (who has serious motivational problems lemme tell ya) are finally starting to get through and there's been improvement.

Only slight improvement so far but I have spotted some, so maybe not all hope is lost yet.

Remains to be seen I guess.

#personal #so in case anyone's still wondering i'm studying to become a tutor/instructor/guidance counselor etc. etc. whatever it's called in english #and currently i mostly work with immigrants with language. sometimes i help high school students as well. but mostly immigrants #and there's this one immigrant student who's been there since last spring. and he still barely even knows the basics because he's 'given up #according to him that is. he told me this at least three times yesterday and i told him that's a problem #so i've been trying to hammer it through his head that he can't be sitting in classes and using his phone when he's supposed to be learning #or expect me or teachers giving him all the answers when he also needs to show a little effort and help us back as well #and that he needs to participate in pair and group activities in classes because we're a team and we need to work together #so basically he's been asking me to either teach him or then find someone who can teach him #i told one of our teachers this and she answered that he could also participate in evening activities at the college but he's not doing tha #and according to him he doesn't 'mingle'. so i told him maybe he should once in a while. get out of his comfort zone. at least try #to my surprise he actually showed up to one of the evening activities that i hosted. didn't do much anything there but sit but still #that was effort. he did exactly what i said despite it making him a little uncomfortable so that's improvement #so then yesterday he asked me about teaching him the language again. i told him i host a homework club at tuesdays & thursdays @ 3:30-4:30p #he showed up there yesterday and was the only student. so i had time to teach him basic greetings. weekdays. months. things he shoulda know #and i thought it's all probably in vain but i tried. so today. he was in their class and actually doing pair work and reading stuff aloud #and even translating some stuff when i asked. calling it easy. and that he's trying to use his phone less and memorize this stuff instead #to which the rest clapped at and cheered him on for. and i told this to the teacher afterwards when she asked me about him. and she gave #me a thumbs up and looked a little surprised but also delighted. because he's been a popular subject amongst ourselves for a reason #so i don't want to get too optimistic about it. because he still has an attitude problem. but he's tried a little at least. so there's hope