#It's fine not to be able to do any of those things

[pucksandpower]

Crazy Cravings

Max Verstappen x wife!Reader

Summary: pregnancy cravings can make you (and your husband) do crazy things … neither of you particularly minds

Warnings: 18+ content and pregnancy

You sit in the Red Bull Racing garage, feeling the warm Spanish sun on your face through the open door. The roar of engines and whirring of power tools surrounds you as the mechanics prepare for the race.

Your eyes are drawn to the iconic blue and silver cans scattered around the garage. Those tantalizing cans of Red Bull that everyone else seems to be drinking so casually.

Everyone except you and Max, that is.

You rub your rounded belly, feeling your precious cargo kick and squirm inside you. At six months pregnant, your cravings have been … intense, to say the least. But none more powerful than your longing for the crisp, fizzy taste of Red Bull.

The caffeine is off limits, of course. You would never dream of jeopardizing your baby’s health. But oh, how you crave that sweet, energizing flavor that used to be such a routine part of your life.

Max emerges from the back room, his bright grey eyes instantly finding you. He strides over, that effortless confidence and raw athleticism making your heart flutter, even after all these years. His gaze drifts to the Red Bull can in a mechanic’s hand and a grimace crosses his face.

“Liefje, are you alright?” He murmurs, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “I know how much those are torturing you lately.”

You force a smile, not wanting him to worry. “I’m fine, Maxie. Just … ignoring the siren call of carbonated temptation.”

His thumb strokes your cheek as he studies you, clearly not convinced. Max has been so incredibly supportive during this pregnancy, abstaining from Red Bull himself in solidarity. Cutting out his biggest vice, just so you don’t have to be tormented by the sight and scent of it everywhere.

“We should get you out of here,” he says, looping an arm around your waist to help leverage your bulk out of the chair. “The smells can’t be helping those crazy cravings.”

You open your mouth to protest, not wanting to pull him away from his work, but a fresh wave of dizzying desire hits you as a mechanic cracks open another can. The fizzing hiss and unmistakable scent make your mouth water uncontrollably.

“Max ...” you whisper, feeling your throat tighten with barely restrained craving and hormonal tears prickling your eyes.

He follows your yearning gaze to the Red Bull can and understanding dawns. “Oh, liefje ...” Scooping you into his arms, he strides from the garage, shooting an apologetic look at his crew.

Once outside in the fresh air, you bury your face against Max’s shoulder, inhaling his familiar, comforting cologne as he carries you to the motorhome. He eases you onto the couch, brushing kisses along your forehead and temple.

“I’m so sorry, schatje,” he murmurs, anguish lining his handsome features. “I hate seeing you suffer like this. If there was any way I could make the cravings stop ...”

You catch his hand, lacing your fingers through his calloused ones. “Max, you know I would never actually ask you to give up Red Bull, right?”

He shakes his head fiercely. “Not being able to have it for nine months is nothing compared to your sacrifice, carrying our baby. I don’t deserve you.”

Pulling him down beside you, you cup the chiseled line of his jaw, making him meet your gaze. “I happen to think you deserve the very best, Mr. Verstappen. And right now, the very best for both of us would be ...” Your voice cracks with fresh longing. “A damn Red Bull.”

Max’s eyes blaze with sudden determination, that iron willpower that has made him a champion coming to life. “Then that’s what I’ll get you. If those tossers at Red Bull Company won’t make a safe, caffeine-free version for pregnant women, I’ll personally make them regret it.”

You laugh shakily. “Max, you can’t just bully a corporation into creating a new product line for one person’s weird craving!”

“You’re not just one person,” he growls, tangling his fingers in your hair and bringing his forehead to rest against yours. “You’re my everything. And our baby deserves for its mother to be happy and have her cravings satisfied.”

Pressing a fierce kiss to your lips, he adds, “I’m calling them right now. And then straight to the CEO, if I have to. I’ll get you that Red Bull if it’s the last thing I do.”

True to his word, the indomitable Max Verstappen spends the next several days working every possible connection and calling in every favor. You catch bits of conversations, his clipped tones making it clear just how serious he is about this bizarre quest.

“No, I don’t care if it’s not ‘cost-effective’. This is for my very pregnant wife ...”

“She’s risking her health to grow an entire person! The least your company can do is make a freaking caffeine-free energy drink ...”

The crew quickly learns not to open any Red Bull around you, lest they face the wrath of an overprotective Max. Which is slightly embarrassing … but also incredibly sweet.

Your hormones most definitely approve.

Finally, there’s a break in the stalemate. Helmut Marko himself shows up at the motor home, those bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrows furrowed.

“Max, this is ridiculous. They will not reconfigure an entire product line just because Y/N is having a little … craving.”

You brace yourself for the explosion, but Max just levels Helmut with that intense stare. “If you could experience these cravings yourself, you would be singing a different tune. Y/N is sacrificing everything to have our baby. The least Red Bull can do is give her a safe option to have the flavor she misses so much.”

Helmut’s expression softens slightly at the obvious devotion in Max’s voice. “You know that corporate will never go for it. Not for just one person ...”

“Then make it for all the other pregnant women dealing with the same issues,” Max returns, unruffled. “Or is a company that plasters ‘Gives You Wings’ on every can really too cowardly to follow through on empowering people?”

You suck in a shocked breath at his daring play. But the flicker of anger and resigned capitulation in Helmut’s eyes shows that it worked.

“Fine, you little shit,” the older man growls. “I’ll talk to product development. But I’m not making any promises!”

Except somehow … Max’s sheer bullheaded tenacity eventually batters through all the corporate resistance and red tape. Three weeks later, an unmistakable bright blue can appears on the counter, the iconic Red Bull logo stamped across it.

“What’s this?” You ask in confusion.

Max slides an arm around your waist, beaming proudly. “Open it and see.”

You crack the seal, sniffing cautiously … and almost melt at the nostalgic, beloved scent of Red Bull. But just as you start to panic about caffeine, you notice the slightly different flavor.

“Max, is this ...”

He nods, grinning. “Zero caffeine but all the taste you’ve been craving. No more tears over those damn energy drink cans, okay?”

Throwing your arms around him, you yank his head down to capture his mouth in a grateful kiss. “Have I mentioned lately how incredible you are?”

“Once or twice,” he jokes, then sobers, cupping your belly. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you and our baby happy.”

“You’re giving me everything I ever wanted and more.” You take a long pull of the perfectly flavored liquid, sighing in blissful satisfaction. “We hit the jackpot with you, Max Verstappen.”

He kisses you again, reveling in your obvious enjoyment. “The only jackpot I need is right here.”

***

Your baby bump has popped out to truly impressive proportions now at eight months along. What started as an innocent craving for Red Bull has escalated into an all-out physiological war.

Nothing seems to satisfy you for long — you’re a walking bundle of hormones and insatiable desires.

From the plush solitude of the Red Bull hospitality suite, you try not to gaze wistfully toward the Ferrari encampment. But you can’t resist fixating on the tantalizing cones of rich gelato constantly streaming from their hospitality tent.

Watching a couple of Ferrari mechanics stroll by, licking at scoops of pistachio and stracciatella, is enough to kickstart a powerful new yearning. Your mouth waters shamelessly as they pass, the creamy dessert leaving you weak in the knees. Before you can overthink it, you’re shuffling toward the entrance, one hand cradling your belly.

“Scusi,” you call out hesitantly as you peek inside. “Mi dispiace … is it possible to get some gelato?”

You half expect to be waved away — it’s well known that the Ferrari team is notoriously insular and protective of their spoils. But the cheerful greeting you receive is instantaneous and overwhelming.

“Madonna mia! Look at this beautiful piccina!”

Suddenly you’re engulfed by a whirlwind of chattering Italian voices, greeted by smiling faces from the team of elderly signoras who comprise the Ferrari hospitality staff. Weathered hands pat your belly and cheeks, clucking sympathetically at your swollen state.

“You poor bambina, absolutely enorme! Of course we’ll get you some gelato to refresh you. And biscotti too! You need to keep up your energy, si?”

You’re ushered toward a plush sofa, various grandmotherly types fussing over you like you’re the most delicate, precious thing. It’s … surprisingly wonderful. They clearly adore babies and pregnant women. You get the sense that indulging a mother-to-be is hardwired into their very beings.

A tray of gelato cups appears, the rainbow of flavors almost dazzling in their variety — chocolate, pistachio, prickly pear, lemon, stracciatella. Before you can reach for one, it’s plucked from your grasp.

“No no no! Leave it to Nonna Maria.” A stout signora with a green paisley dress and frosted silver curls shakes her head sternly. “I’ll start you with the lemon to whet your appetite. Then a nice creamy stracciatella as a proper treat for the bambino.”

The tangy flavor of the lemon gelato hits your craving exquisitely. As soon as you’ve polished off that cup, Nonna Maria presents another brimming with the creamy chocolate chip perfection of stracciatella. You moan in appreciation, unbothered by the chorus of approving noises from your doting new entourage.

Before you know it, you’ve been plied with cups of hazelnut, strawberry, and caramel flavors as well. These hospitable Italian ladies simply won’t be deterred from pampering a future mamma. As you scrape the last smears of gelato from a ramekin, a new grandmother settles on the sofa beside you.

“Now ... tell Nonna Gina what this little maschietto or bambina has been craving, eh?” She pats your belly affectionately. “We have chefs who can whip up anything your heart desires!”

Is it a pregnancy thing, this sudden wave of tears that blurs your vision? Or just being so insanely touched by the kindness and maternal care of these lovely strangers? You blink rapidly, swallowing hard.

“Honestly … gelato has been my biggest craving these past couple days. I don’t know if I can eat another bite.”

A chorus of disapproving gasps and tuts rises from the assembled grandmothers. “Bah! This pregnancy has ruined your appetite, piccina,” one crows, waving a hand dismissively. “We’ll soon get it back to rights, don’t you worry.”

For the next hour, you’re lavished with attention, fussed over and coddled like the most precious jewel. Cold drinks and chilled towels appear to keep you comfortable as the nonnas take turns sitting with you, petting your belly and swapping outrageous birth stories.

Their colorful Italian voices swell and ebb as they bicker over whose recipe for pasta al ragu is most authentic, who has the most grandchildren, and whose first-born grandson is most handsome.

It’s chaos and noise and overwhelming affection … and you’ve never felt so utterly content.

As the afternoon light slants golden through the awning, a familiar figure appears in the entrance, haloed by the fiery rays.

“Liefje? I’ve been looking everywhere ...” Max’s disbelieving gaze sweeps over the scene in front of him — you, surrounded by a veritable coven of grandmotherly Italians who seem entirely absorbed with you. “What in the world ...”

A chubby signora with a bright orange shawl wrapped around her ample form hops up, beaming widely. “Ahh! We have been absolutely spoiling your beautiful wife, of course. Did you know she had a craving for gelato? Well, no problem for us — we have taken her like one of our own bambinas!”

The others cluck and murmur in outraged agreement at his shocked expression.

“We absolutely will not let a piccina in such a state go hungry or uncomfortable! Now you sit down so we can get you a plate of some proper food too!”

Max gapes at you, utterly nonplussed as you grin back at him with unabashed glee, utterly stuffed with Italian desserts and reveling in the indulgent babying. You pat the space beside you invitingly.

“You’ve got to try Nonna Gina’s tiramisu, Maxie. It’ll knock your socks off.”

He settles beside you, slinging an arm around your shoulders and still looking rather dazed. But the instant the first warm smile and pat lands on his arm or knee, Max’s expression melts. This team of fussing Italian grandmothers has clearly adopted you both as their own.

Nonna Maria reappears, shoving a plate stacked with crispy arancini, indulgent risotto alla Milanese, and a creamy slice of tiramisu into your husband’s hands. “Eat up! You need to keep your strength up too, caring for this sweet cosa bella.” She plants bristly kisses on both your cheeks before scurrying off again.

Max watches her go, then turns to you with a bemused chuckle, squeezing you close. “Well, schatje. I have to hand it to you — at least your pregnancy cravings bring you to some … interesting places.”

You hum in agreement, perfectly content as you snuggle against his side. “Can you really think of a better place for me to nest?” You grin as another nonna appears to pat his cheek, welcoming him into the chaotic fold. “I think I may have just found my second family.”

He tilts your chin up, eyes sparkling with warmth. “Anything that makes you happy and keeps our baby healthy.”

As he kisses you tenderly, surrounded by clucking encouragement and rapturous croons of “bello, bellisimo” from your new Italian grandmothers, you know you’ve never felt so blissfully cherished.

You and Max make your way slowly back to the Red Bull motorhome, stuffed to the gills with gelato and trailed by a gaggle of besotted well-wishers calling out farewells and advice.

“I still can’t believe you managed to befriend the entirety of Ferrari hospitality,” Max laughs, helping ease you onto the couch in his driver’s room. He nudges your belly playfully. “This little one is shaping up to be quite the international charmer!”

“Says the man who single-handedly compelled Red Bull to create an entirely new product line,” you point out, patting your swollen middle contentedly. “I have a feeling this baby is going to be the most spoiled child on earth.”

Max settled beside you, gathering you close with a tender smile. “Can you blame all our people for wanting to give the world to you two?” His thumb traced your jawline reverently. “You’re carrying a little miracle, liefje.”

Your breath catches, as it so often did when he looks at you like that. Like you’re his entire universe. With so much pure adoration and love shining in those grey eyes.

“Our miracle,” you correct softly, cradling his calloused hand over your belly. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Not just supporting me … but giving me everything I could ever dream of.”

He opens his mouth like he wanted to protest, but you press on, needing him to understand how treasured he makes you feel.

“You don’t stop until I’m happy. Even when I get these raging, random cravings that probably seem crazy, you move heaven and earth to give me whatever I need. Most people would never ...”

“Neither of us is most people,” Max interrupts fiercely. He presses a searing kiss to your lips, then the swell of your abdomen. “You and our little one are my entire world. I’ll spend every day showing you how much I love you both, how grateful I am to have you in my life.”

Hormones raging, you pull his mouth back to yours, savoring the taste and feel of him surrounding you. When you finally part, you rest your forehead against his.

“In that case, you better rest up for tonight,” you tease. “I have a feeling that someone’s going to get a craving for sardines and waffles right around midnight.”

***

At nine months pregnant, you feel like a blissfully beached whale.

Your belly protrudes so massively that you can barely see your feet anymore. Simple tasks like tying your shoes or rolling over in bed have become awkward geometric obstacles. Max has to help you up from every chair or couch, his strong arms levering your frame into a vertical position.

Lingering in the paddock is no longer an option either. You’ve been gently but firmly ordered back home to Monaco to prepare for the baby’s arrival.

Thank goodness your nesting instincts are going full tilt — otherwise you might go stir crazy waiting for this little one to make their grand debut. You’ve rearranged and re-organized the nursery a dozen times, washed and rewashed all the tiny onesies and miniature accessories, and baked enough lactation cookies to feed an army of nursing mothers.

Really, there’s only one craving occupying your mind now …

The thump of shoes in the hall makes you look up eagerly. Max appears in the doorway of the sunlit nursery, loose waves of brown hair framing his face. The plain white tee stretches enticingly across his chest and shoulders, making your mouth water for an entirely different reason than food.

“Hey schatje,” he greets, eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes in your flushed cheeks. A knowing smirk tugs at one side of his mouth. “Were you just ... thinking about me?”

You shake your head adamantly, wincing as the motion makes your whole body ache in protest. “Maybe just a little. This particular craving is getting out of control.”

Crossing to you in two strides, Max cups your jaw and brings your lips crashing together in a searing kiss. His tongue sweeps demanding and possessive into your mouth, making you whimper faintly. That intoxicating masculine scent of fresh sweat, motor oil, and sandalwood surrounds you in an alluring cloud.

After all these years, just the taste and smell of your husband is enough to drench you in molten wanting. Baby or no baby, Max Verstappen is still the sexiest goddamn thing on two legs.

“Mmm, I know exactly what you need,” he rumbles against your neck, nipping a tingling path along your sensitive skin. “Luckily for you, I’ve got a free schedule all afternoon to help take care of this craving ...”

He scoops you into his arms effortlessly, cradling your heavy weight against his chest to carry you to the bedroom. You twine your arms shamelessly around his neck, luxuriating in the hard strength of his body against yours.

“Aren’t you worried about ... squashing the baby?”

“Not at all,” he deposits you carefully on the bed. Those bright grey eyes darken with blazing lust. “I’m going to take such good care of you and our little one.”

His hands and mouth seem to be everywhere at once — caressing, nibbling, and stroking every sensitive inch he can lavish adoring attention on. You keen softly when he dips his tongue into your navel, rubbing reverent circles over the tight swell of your belly.

“You’re so gorgeous like this,” Max murmurs, lips brushing the crease where your torso and bump meet. “So ripe and round and radiant with our child. My beautiful, strong girl ...”

All you can do is lie there gasping, overwhelmed in the best possible way. He strips you methodically, leaving a trail of scorching, openmouthed kisses over every newly exposed inch.

“My sexy little pregnant wife,” he husks, tongue dragging up the slick crease at the apex of your thighs. “Can’t resist this craving can you, liefje?”

His fingers plunge inside you, curling expertly as his mouth closes over your throbbing bud. You throw your head back shamelessly, mindless with pleasure as Max devours you.

So good, so unbearably good …

He ravishes you thoroughly, sending gushing waves of release crashing through your body over and over again until you’re gasping and quivering. Atoms of blissful satisfaction hum in your bloodstream as you float back into sweet oblivion.

An insistent nudge against your belly slowly rouses you. Max looms over you, hair deliciously rumpled and eyes glittering wickedly. “Did I satisfy that craving sufficiently? Or should I keep going?”

Your mouth curves in a greedy smile, hands gliding over his flexing shoulders and chest. “Again, please ...”

It had long since become a running gag around the paddock and team — before you were advised to stop flying. When you couldn’t be located, someone would joke that you must be off ravaging your utterly besotten husband yet again.

Max took the ribbing with surprising grace, grinning unrepentantly whenever his shirt collar revealed another blossom of lovebites discoloring the skin of his throat.

You really didn’t care about the teasing. You’re indulging an entirely healthy and normal craving — just a wife thoroughly appreciating her man.

“Can you believe people used to call this a punishment?” You giggle breathlessly one afternoon.

Max nips a stinging path along the soft skin of your inner thighs, tracing tantalizingly close to your heated center. He laves his tongue soothingly over the reddened marks, leering up at you from between your parted legs.

“Let them call it whatever they want. I’m just taking advantage of your hormones making you insatiable for me.”

“Mmm, well I can’t seem to resist your obscenely perfect body either,” you admit with a lazy stretch. “Maybe we really are being punished.”

One dark brow wings up eloquently as Max drags his eyes over you in a deliberately insolent perusal. Taking your leg in hand, he licks an achingly slow, filthy stripe up the crease where thigh meets hip.

You choke on a whimper, whole body jolting as he sucks a blossom of wet kisses into the satiny expanse of your inner thigh. Those bright grey eyes hold yours in wicked challenge as his clever tongue massages and swirls over your sensitized flesh.

“This certainly doesn’t seem like punishment to me,” he husks darkly. “Does it feel like punishment when I do this ...” His mouth moves higher. “Or this ...”

By the time he finishes torturing you into a quivering, needy wreck, you’re more than ready to beg.

“Please, Max!” You sob, bucking helplessly against the maddening sensations. “I need you, oh god I need you so bad ...”

He settles heavily over you, nuzzling your hair aside to trail searing kisses along your damp throat. “Then you shall have me. My needy wife can have whatever she craves ...”

It’s midway through one such shattering round of lovemaking that Max’s phone begins to ring shrilly. You try to disentangle, burning embarrassment tinting your cheeks, but he simply growls and clutches you tighter.

“Leave it!” He bites out, surging forward to recapture your mouth in a bruising clash of teeth and tongue between thrusts. “I’m busy ... satisfying … my wife ...”

After, as you lie tangled in a sweaty heap of satiation, you can’t resist asking with a wry smile, “Was that another craving I just demanded you satisfy?”

Max props himself up on one elbow, thumb stroking idly along your abdomen as his piercing gaze roams over your flushed, disheveled form.

“Whatever my wife needs,” he responds huskily. Those burning eyes promise infinite carnal delights to come as they caress your body. “I’ll always crave giving her everything she desires.”

He stretches beside you, a blissful smile curving his lips as you snuggle up against his side to exchange lazy kisses.

You’ve got a sneaking suspicion this is one craving that might outlast the pregnancy ...

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #max verstappen #mv1 #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #max verstappen x female reader #max verstappen x y/n #red bull racing #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen drabble

[rainswept]

counting backwards — throwing muses. 0.8k words.

Fog has found a comfortable residence nestled in Aventurine’s brain—a bustling one, strangling clear thoughts and fond reminiscence and expertly avoiding those gnawing memories he wished it would swallow.

He looks into the mirror, he shows his teeth. He hopes, to others, it looks like a smile and not a snarl—though, to him, he still looks afraid, and he swears he can still see the yellowing he had earned after so long of not being able to care for them (despite how the gold of his wealth had cancelled it out long ago and chased it off).

It was voracious, clamoring like a starved man, armed with an achingly empty stomach at all times; it was nimble, and it trembled whenever he did—with hunger, sickness, the cold, or fear, he didn’t know, it was a toss up—skin melded to bone. Yet, as much as it ate at his clairvoyance, it didn’t grow—it just… lingered, in the corner of his cluttered head, emaciated and shaking. It stared at him. It had his eyes, and the same blond hair.

He keeps practicing. He wants his expression to be bright like a future that is looking up, like the sun during the first glimpse of it after rain, and infectious—but it was bright like a warning sign, like the sun beating down on an arid and drought-stricken desert, and diseased. That wouldn’t do. His sight was bleary, and his hair was a mess, and he fell asleep in last night’s clothes; nothing about him screamed refined or expensive or high quality or worth anything at all.

It felt fearful, in a way, but it cared for its host just as the weather outside did. Maybe even less. It rained for Kakavasha, but this? This didn’t change for a thing. All it did was fast forward the time on the clock. All it did was steal from him, little by little, thread by thread, coin by coin, unraveling, rusting, wasting. But that was fine. He had money and memories to give now. He had the means to feed both himself and it. He was generous—he always was, but now he could truly afford to be without sacrifice.

For as long and well as he had played the role of carefully crafted, embellished with gold and beholding bones of wrought iron, every rotting rope making him up was one rainstorm away from snapping.

Speaking of Kakavasha, he didn’t remember much of him. All that lingered was the fear, because as much as he washed the blood—his kin, his kills—off of himself, that little frayed part of him, wide-eyed and with no more tears to cry, remained playing dead under its current.

He combs out any tangles sleep had imparted in the strands of his hair. He washes it out—the scent of the soap doesn’t take long to leave him with a headache, so he rinses and replaces it with equally migraine-inducing conditioner. He combs through it until he no longer looks unkempt or unwell.

That fog is still here. He should remind himself to grab his keys, just in case.

He hooks his finger in the corner of his mouth, pulls it back a bit further to check for any plaque or pieces of food left on his molars. There is none. He keeps looking. He straightens out his clothes, stares and bores holes into every last crevice that could hide a tell. He stares and stares. He remembers a time when he had no reflection, only sand and kin, only a guess at what he looked like. That was long ago.

In the mirror, when he still only saw himself in the faces of his family, mauve hair fell, and her voice still echoes: “What’s worth more to you, Kakavasha—the life in your veins, or the gaze you share with those incinerated bodies?”

What is more important to you, Kakavasha, the blood that keeps your heart that deserves nothing but death beating, or the blood that makes you Avgin, that ties you by something indisputable to the only thing you ever learned how to cherish?

That was what she meant. It was a stupid question.

He fixes his shirt one last time. He grabs his keys.

He knew how to answer, then, and he still does now, because he would drain his arteries of every last drop if it meant seeing them unpainted with theirs again—for the color to return to their faces, the life to their dull eyes—

He closes the door behind him with a soft click.

But that can’t happen. So he will continue to dress his wounds, cut his losses, and survive, until he inevitably joins them.

(He will never join them. They are dust, scattered in fragments across space. He will be buried in a lavish coffin.)

#rainswept #aventurine #hsr aventurine #hsr #honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #<- idk i guess #not really but it can be seen as an add on to the series… so whatever

[sunnywiththestars]

Hi! Do you have any BuckTommy fic recs?

yes!! here you go!!!

I tried to tag anyone's tumblr that i could find but there were a few i couldn't so it's only straight to the fic on ao3

you keep his shirt, he keeps his word by perfectlysunny @perfectlysunny02

"Evan, baby, you okay? It’s late. I thought Chimney’s party was tonight.” “Tommy,” Buck gasps, almost dropping his phone in his excitement . “You’re here. See that, Eds, magic is real. He’s here.” “Sweetheart, you called me, remember,” Tommy says. “Evan, baby, are you drunk?”

A (Not So) New Hoodie by littlebipolarsunshine

In which Buck doesn't look very closely when putting on a hoodie before going to work.

Pancakes, kisses, and a little bit of TLC by theotherlucifer @theotherbuckley

“Evan?” Tommy asks, his voice deep and gravelly. If it were any other day, Buck would find that incredibly attractive. Unfortunately, he isn’t able to enjoy it. Now that he’s aware of the pain in his leg, it only seems to get worse. His leg throbs; it feels like his bones are trying to bully their way out of his flesh. He clenches his eyes shut as he wills the wildfire that burns through his limb to calm down. “‘M fine,” he gets out through a clenched jaw. Tommy squints at him, tilting his head to the side. “Evan,” he repeats in a way that Buck knows means he doesn’t believe him for a second. (or Buck wakes up with a chronic pain flare-up the morning after, and Tommy takes care of him)

Hold me on my bad day by disasterbuckdiaz @bidisasterevankinard

Tommy had a bad day, has an awful morning he starts as blanket burrito, but his boyfriend's cuddles make it better

the universe is screaming (are you listening?) by pigalle

Buck, still running on frantic panic of being late, stops short. When he looks down at himself, he sees that he is indeed wearing one of Tommy’s LAFD Air Operations t-shirts. “Uh,” Buck says, ever so eloquently. “Why are you wearing Tommy’s shirt?” Chimney asks, and really, that’s a valid question. Or, 5 times the universe conspires to reveal Buck and Tommy’s relationship, plus 1 time it’s quite obvious

come and save me from it by devirnis @devirnis

“Dinner and a show,” Evan comments, his eyes zeroed in on where Tommy’s sleeves are pushed up to his elbows. “Maybe I should get sick more often.” Tommy flicks a small piece of ginger at him. “If you wanted me to cook for you, all you had to do was bat those pretty eyelashes of yours.” It happens so quickly. One second Evan is grinning exhaustedly at him, and the next thing Tommy knows, Evan’s eyes go wide as what little colour he has left drains from his face. Tommy makes an aborted move towards him, but Evan shoves his chair back from the island and bolts for the bathroom.

Right In Front of Me by Princessfbi @princessfbi

Tommy’s brows knitted together as his mouth turned down with worry. “Evan,” he said and Buck wanted to hear him call his name so many more times. “What happened? Did someone choke you?” “That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Buck said, clearing his throat again when his voice gave an embarrassing squeak.

Like a Music That's Been Transposed by Faillen @faillen

“Hey there, stunner,” Tommy murmured against his mouth once they’d pulled away. “Stunner?” Evan asked, smile bunching up his cheeks. “That’s a new one.” “Mhmm,” Tommy said, pressing a kiss to one of those lovely red cheeks. “You like it?” Evan ducked his head, “Yeah, that one’s uh. That’s pretty good.” His eyes cut back to Tommy and his mouth twisted into a thoughtful moue. “I don’t really have any for you.” “Eh,” Tommy said. “I’m not a big endearment guy.” Or: Tommy grows into his name.

do you mind? im pining by tinygiantsam @watchyourbuck

He slammed his glass onto the table, sitting upright as he coughed into his hand. His eyes watered, but he couldn’t tear them away from the scene before him. He hadn’t imagined it. They were holding hands. OR: 7x05 spec fic. Buck and Tommy have their first date. Eddie is jealous about it. (Includes Buck and Tommy making out at the loft + Eddie dealing with complicated feelings towards his best friend).

those hands pulled me from the earth by star_shot (throw one of my own in there-)

Tommy’s eyebrows were raised as he stood and waited for an explanation. “I believe that I promised you a dance tonight.” Buck says, a softer smile graces his lips. “It is 4 o’clock in the morning.” -- OR - after the disaster of the day, Buck still finds a way to fulfill his promise to Tommy.

a lovely collection of fics, happy reading!!

and anyone else please feel free to add on another other bucktommy recs you have or even your own works!

#911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #911 fanfic #tevan #kinley #fic rec #sunny answers asks

[ickadori]

[cws] gn reader -> durge reader. act 1 spoiler for durge.

-

Thinking about a durge reader who relies heavily on Halsin and Gale to stop them in their tracks when they fall prey to their urges.

You’re trying to be better -somewhat, anyways-, and the first step to doing that was being able to control your more darker impulses. You had been fine the first few days off the nautiloid — you hadn’t severed gale’s hand and kept it as a souvenir as you had so desperately wanted to, and you had even gone out of your way to save those pitiful tieflings from certain death at the grove…well, all except one tiefling.

That had been an utter mistake, but had been the event that forced you to face reality - you weren’t in control of yourself, not entirely. There was something dark, something sinister festering and boiling inside you, just waiting for a moment to spill over and send you into a bout of bloodlust.

You had expected your traveling companions to banish you out of your little group of misfits, but they had been surprisingly amicable about it all, minus the promises to saw at your neck if you ever pointed your blade in their direction.

Halsin and Gale were the ones to mitigate your damage. Neither of them had volunteered for the position, but they had been the ones to fill it nonetheless - not as if you gave them much of a choice. They just happened to always be near during one of your ‘episodes’, and were willing to use non-lethal methods to stop you.

~

“Oh, it’s gotten hold of you again, has it?”

Arms as sturdy as steel bars lock around you, the blade that had been poised and ready to sink into the neck of some unsuspecting drow clattering to the cobbled road. You thrash immediately, body acting on instinct as you fight to free yourself, fight to reach for the curved blade, fight to wrap your fingers around it and stab, fight to kill.

You’re wrestled down to the ground and flipped onto your belly, a heavy weight crushing you down, and even through the red haze clouding your mind you can recognize it as Halsin’s touch - a calming, grounding, safe touch.

Your body rejects it even though your mind craves it.

“Easy now,” his voice is low, spoken directly into your ear. “We’ll wait this out just like this, as long as it takes.” His grip on you doesn’t loosen once, instead growing tighter and tighter the more you kick, thrash, and scream.

You lash out at him any way you can: teeth sinking into the meat of his biceps, nails clawing against his skin, feet slamming back into his calves, head knocking back into his own.

You never fully remember your actions when your senses finally come back to you, only flashes of pained faces and whispers of grunts and curses, but you always see the damage afterwards.

Nicks on his skin, blossoming bruises on his legs, bloodied teeth when he gives you that relieved smile when he notices you’ve finally stopped fighting him. “There you are. That was two minutes lesser than the last blood crazed frenzy you went on. I’d say that’s pretty good, all things considered.”

Your breathing is labored as you watch his face, a prominent ache in your chest from where his arms had held you, where they still hold you. You don’t normally react positively towards others touching you, especially when you’re being restrained, but you find yourself relaxing in his hold, breathing evening out and jaw unclenching.

He returns your gaze, his hold turning from near-punishing to something gentler. His hands, large and warm, roam up and down the expanse of your back in soothing motions. “Are you alright to continue on now?”

“Yes.” You make no move to get out of his embrace and up to your feet, and he makes no move to do it for you.

“Do you wish to continue on now?”

“No.”

He breathes out a laugh. “Then we shall rest.”

~

“…and the most magnificent thing by far about the wonders of the weave are—oh, you’ve gone and grabbed your blade. A simple ‘that’s enough, Gale’ would have gotten the message across just as well, you know? Oh…oh, it’s happening, is it?”

A flurry of invisible hands pin you into place and disarm you, rendering you immobile as you’re helpless to do anything but gnash your teeth and scream your throat raw. Gale eventually conjures another hand to cover your mouth, a heavy sigh leaving him as he crosses one leg over the other.

“My, you are a disruptive one, aren’t you? My impromptu teachings have been known to bore others to sleep, but to drive them into a mindless craze? That is a first. I don’t know whether to be offended or flattered.” His voice is light as he watches your struggle for a brief moment. “Well, a quiet moment is a moment best spent learning. I’ll continue where I left off.”

By the time your mind has cleared of your darker urges, Gale well into yet another recount of his days as a young wizard, hands making wild gestures and occasionally firing off a spell to enhance his storytelling.

You don’t how many stories he’s told since you first regressed into that mindless slaying machine, but you do know that the sun has set and hunger has crept its way into your stomach.

“…barely made it out intact, and I’ve got the scar to prove it. Ah, those were the days - a young, reckless scamp wreaking havoc in the—oh, you’ve finally regained your senses, have you? Splendid. I was starting to think I’d run out of stories.”

The hand that had been clamped over your mouth is removed, and then the other hands leave one by one. Being stuck in the same position for hours on end left you a bit unsteady on your feet, and you sway when the last hand disappears. Before you can hit the dirt Gale is there, arm slipping around your waist as he hefts you into his side and keeps you upright.

“Easy there, I wouldn’t want you falling over and knocking yourself out before you’ve heard the last of my stories for the night.”

“There’s more?”

“Why, of course,” there’s a hint of amusement in his voice. “But I suppose I can save them for another day. We have more urgent matters to attend to at the moment - food. You’re famished, I’m sure. Not to worry, while I was dutifully making sure you didn’t turn out lovely camp into yet another bloody spectacle, I was also preparing that meal you seem to like.”

“I suppose I should thank you, then.”

“That would be the polite thing to do, yes.”

“…I suppose I can save that for another day as well.”

#durge x gale #durge x halsin #bg3 x reader #bg3 spoilers

[ryemiffie]

Not sure if this has been thought before, but I was thinking about Jason and Tim's relationship and how everything went down with Jason's whole revenge plan or whatever and I present the thought of:

Jason is revived, spends his time with the league and then goes and sees that Batman has 'replaced' him with Tim, of course he's hurt by this and he starts to question if Bruce ever really viewed Jason as a son or if it was all just in Jason's head, he doesn't want to believe that Bruce would replace him but the evidence is damning.

Jason being so hurt by this he decides he can't tell Bruce he's back, and goes on to plan all his Red Hood drama. At first Jason is content with doing what he thinks is right as Red Hood and is fine just killing the Joker on his own. As long as Joker is off the streets and can't hurt anyone else Jason thinks this will be enough.

Years pass and Jason has made a name for himself as the Red Hood, and during this time he has become accustomed to seeing Batman fighting alongside his new sidekick, his new Robin. Whether in passing or from a distance, Jason has seen how the two interact and function with each other, and he recognises how much Tim seems to care for Bruce. It's hurtful to think of Bruce having moved on and replacing him but Jason sees his younger self in the way Tim looks at Batman while they're in battle.

In this time Jason has not been able to bring himself to kill the Joker, his own mental turmoil at the idea of facing the man who killed him keeping him from acting on his anger, instead he only fights against the joker from afar, foiling his schemes in ways that didn't require him to ever actually have to face the twisted man.

Jason tries his best to avoid Batman and his new protege, and just continue working in the shadows of Gotham as Red Hood without having to deal with any conflict from the dark knight/his dad, while from afar feeling a sort of connection with Tim, he is technically his younger brother now right? Even if Jason can't bring himself to so much as wave in his direction when near enough that Tim might see him. During a team up of some kind, probably with someone like Harley Quin, Red Hood is informed of the Joker Jr incident and is suddenly filled with such rage, such anguish at the idea that not only had Bruce failed to save Jason, had let him die and then allowed the Joker to keep his own life, but that Bruce would allow Joker to hurt another one of his sons, to hurt Jason's brother. That even after seeing both Jason and Tim suffer at the Joker's hands that Bruce would still let that man continue with his life, continue to hurt people whether those people be members of the batfamily or just civilians caught in the crossfire of an endlessly painful rivalry between the clown and the bat. That Bruce would continue to take Tim out in the field and put him anywhere near the Joker to fight. When it was just for his own peace Jason could've ended the Joker on his own and let that be enough, sure it hurt Jason to think that the man he had seen as his father didn't care enough to avenge him but he would've survived, as long as he got to watch the life drain from Joker's face and the smile spill off his face when he died. But now, knowing what Batman had allowed to happen, not just to himself, but to Tim as well? It was just too much.

That would be the final straw. The thing that makes Jason finally go directly after Joker, to reveal himself to his father, to scream at him and air out his pain, his sorrow and his anguish, yelling "How could you let him do it? How could you let him continue living after what he did to me? How could you have allowed him to live on to hurt Tim? You couldn't protect me so why didn't you protect him? Was it not enough? To lose me? Was that not enough to make you realise? If I wasn't enough why wasn't Tim? It should've ended with me and it needs to end with Tim! How many more Robins will you let him hurt beyond repair? How many Bruce?! You need to end this! Please end this! If you couldn't do it for me please do it for Tim, he deserves better than you gave me!"

Anyway, just a thought I had. it's kinda hard to articulate in this typa format but maybe I'll write it out as a fanfic and it'll make more sense? Don't know if I will though, let me know if that's something anyone would be interested in I guess. But yeah, I'm just like really interested in Jason and Tim's dynamic and the potential they have for brotherly angst and shenanigans so I might just write some random Tim and Jason interactions for funsies whether or not I decide to post 'em.

#the batman #batman comics #batman and robin #batman #batfam #batfamily #batkids #batsiblings #the batfamily #batbros #batboys #dc jason todd #jason todd wayne #jason wayne #jason todd #dc red hood #the red hood #red hood comics #jason and bruce #jason and tim #dc tim drake #tim drake #tim wayne #dc red robin #red hood #red robin #batman bruce wayne #dad bruce wayne #bruce wayne #dc joker

[crepesuzette2023]

What do you think was the deal w George playing on HDYS? Like all those ppl in the room knew Paul, used to be friends with him, and still talked shit about him, and it's just so crazy to me that Ringo was the only one bothered by it all. I can't wrap my head around it.

Full disclosure to get it out of the way: I don't much like HDYS. Musically, I mean. I think it's boring and monotonous, and the lyrics are childish because of how obvious they are. I know many people like the song, or like it musically while disliking the lyrics—all fine with me. But I'm not coming at this as a fan of the song.

What do I think George's deal was playing on HDYS? It's speculation time!

I think George had legitimate grievances about being in the Beatles: the fame, the John & Paul of it, the resulting creative frustration. He was clear enough in later years that, despite loving Paul as a friend, he wouldn't play in a band with him anymore. You can dismiss that as George being a mediocre bitch who's incapable of playing with a genius like Paul, or as Paul being a domineering asshole who can't play well with others, but it comes down to creative incompatibility, and three songwriters being at least one too many.

I imagine that any wounds and anger George carried because of that were still relatively fresh at the time HDYS was recorded. And since Paul had positioned himself as the odd one out (culminating with the lawsuit), George ended up in John's camp—his dislike of Yoko being compensated for by the presence of Klaus, Ringo, etc.

With HDYS being a reaction to Paul's no less cruel (in its own way) "Too Many People", I imagine George felt some personal outrage and solidarity with John as well: Too many people preaching practices...

With so much miscommunication/non-communication between all of them at this point, it was easy to project, blame, and make bad faith assumptions...with no one in the room (except, eventually, Ringo) willing and able to prioritize John and Paul's (and all of their) friendship over being part of the 'winning' fraction.

In One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, the main character, McMurphy, observes a group therapy session that ends with everyone piling on and competing for the cruelest thing to say or do. He compares this behavior to a pecking party: a flock of chicken driven into a pecking frenzy after smelling blood, which leads to more cuts, and more blood. It's a dramatic example, of course, but I sense something like this in the composition of HDYS: the collective rush of being assholes together, further enhanced by John's charisma and the victim being absent. Who hasn't experienced this at some point—talking shit about the person no one liked in the moment, so happy to be part of 'in crowd'? *Raises hand* definitely guilty—teenage behavior, not proud of it. Ashamed, even.

I think that's a big part of what happened. It says a lot about Ringo that he eventually left. That's backbone.

By the way, I've no intention to make this about Paul vs. John. The situation was out of hand, and there was no one with the authority or will to make them talk and stop this (though eventually they apparently decided to stop the excessive mutual flogging in public). It remained the John & Paul business, to the end.

To wrap it up, I'm not a huge fan of "Too Many People," either, because the taunting lilt is so mean and cutting. I like the melody, though, and enjoy the version on Thrillington.

Now, the whole Dear Boy/ Dear Friend/ Best Friend/ Jealous Guy/ I Know (I Know) thing...please.

#How do you sleep #Imagine #John Lennon #George Harrison #Paul McCartney #the Beatles #one flew over the cuckoo's nest #In the end #there was anthology #these are just some speculative thoughts—I'm sure the truth was much more messy and complex! #it makes no sense to feel rage on behalf of either John or Paul: in the end it was between them #mclennon #(sort of) #asks

[lightwise]

TBB S3 E10 Reaction

Life has been a bit busier the last few weeks so I am finally catching up on my episode reactions (I’m determined to do all of them this season!) And I apologize y’all, this episode made me very snarky apparently.

I’ll be honest. When this episode first came out I was nowhere near as surprised by it or horrified by it as reviewers seemed to be. Nothing about Palpatine hunting down force sensitive children as experiments and using Cad Bane to do it is a surprise, and the Vault feels so much like Andor. But even on a rewatch this episode holds up so well and honestly just starts to give a cold chill under the skin as the quiet horror of it sinks in.

- Cute kid. And the Batch nowhere to be seen. This is going to be a different episode isn’t it

- Oh no. He’s force sensitive 😫😫😫 hmmm how could that possibly go wrong

- This is giving Andor vibes 👀

- It’s always interesting seeing “regular people” in Star Wars and little markets and how they’re just trying to go about their daily lives.

- Don’t go around snitching people! Nothing good ever comes of it!!!

- Yeah this guy is worse than Timm from Andor. Wtf dude. You’re turning in a baby!!

- Also is it just me or typical Star Wars “houses” end up being pretty dark and depressing?

- Wait okay okay. So this is the CX chamber. Why can’t we see any of them yet 😩😩 what is this red fog? What are these weird conditioning pods? What kind of armor is on this datapad?? *trying to crawl inside my screen* I NEED ANSWERS JENNIFER!!

- “Do you trust me?” Ooooh why do I think that’s going to come back around

- But also, babygirl, I don’t think you actually know what you’re signing up for

- “I could be more useful” “you wish to be the new chief scientist Dr. Karr?” “I believe I’ve earned it.” Alright. This. This is interesting. This fully encapsulates the dynamic that these two have shared. Emerie knows that Hemlock only values things that are useful, and probably only sees her own value in the light of what she can contribute, due to how she was raised and the circumstances she has been trapped in. Hemlock’s tone of voice implies that he has never considered her as being the new chief scientist, and yet he acquiesces quite quickly, almost as though he’s just too busy to think about it and if it means things are brought back up to production standard then he’s fine with it. His utter disregard for Emerie as an actual human and someone with merit is disgusting though.

- But I get it, the man’s busy, he’s got a lot of evil shit he’s trying to do all at the same time 🙄

- So we have “the assets”, which is the area that Hemlock took Palpatine in the first episodes, where the orange containment pods are and the zillo beast is being kept. We still don’t know what those assets are. The Vault is something different.

- Well. Shit. It’s Andor and Narkina 5 for kids. Lovely 😳💀

- “There are few adults left with such characteristics” I WONDER IN THE NAME OF ONE EMPEROR PALPATINE WHY

- Okay so this entire exchange is awful. The kids are so cute! Hemlock is so cold. “Specimens. Assets” ughhh Emerie what are you getting yourself into!!

- Is this the first time we’ve heard the word glasses in Star Wars?

- Oh no. So THIS is why Cad Bane was brought back 🥺🥺

- The score in this episode is perfectly eerie

- Lol Todo is not good with kids huh 🤣

- That poor mama when she wakes up and finds her baby is gone

- I hope that dude has his entire life flash before his eyes as he’s trying to pick all of those credits up

- “My name’s Eva” 🥹🥹🥹 Emerie has no idea how to handle this 😂

- I still wanna know what’s happened with these commandos. No way a clone of Jango Fett is able to look a child in the eyes, call them a “specimen” and not have even an ounce of remorse as they stun them point blank.

- “Jax?” And Eva just points. The power in knowing someone’s name vs a dehumanizing number

- It’s also interesting that these kids are species that are red, blue, and green, and when they get Bayrn in, he’s white. RGB colors make up white light when put together.

- The little peeks of Emerie’s backstory we keep getting are so interesting. She was abandoned by Nala Se. She knows that these children don’t belong here, the same way that Omega told both her and Crosshair that they didn’t belong here either. Nala Se says that the Empire will hold these kids to control them. Emerie feels like she has no power to do anything differently. So much to unpack here.

- Why is Tarkin’s holo so large?

- Lol I honestly love getting to see the backbiting politics of how the Empire functions. It’s so bad and so funny

- Also love that Project Necromancer is so secret that even Tarkin doesn’t know what it is. He’s so nosy

- Okay why does he bring up the CX schematic again and why is it so different than the one we saw earlier??

- Whoa Cid was tortured???

- “The other operatives aren’t ready to join you in the field” why????

- We’re visiting a lot of space stations this season

- Man I wish Emerie had fudged this test

- Nooo let the poor baby go home 🥺

- Oh and now we’re putting kids in solitary confinement. Great.

- C’mon Emerie. Keep clicking that moral compass until it points north

- She kept the straw Lula. She’s giving it to Eva 😭. There’s hope for her yet

#the bad batch #tbb #tbb spoilers #star wars #the bad batch spoilers #Emerie karr #tbb s3 #the bad batch season 3

[mechadria]

I liked their apology. (tldr lower bestie if you want)

It won't make Steven's out of touch comment or their joint decision made without either asking a business consultant or their own fans any easier to swallow, but it was a good apology. I like the new model, and I frankly think a month is short, they could have waited longer to put them up after! (they probably went short so the apology would go better and yeah, they nailed this one actually.) this kind of premium experience that you can opt into feels much better and nicer than feeling forced to subscribe to watch any of it going forward (it's really a bit of another patreon form, and I really don't mind that at all). i think more people would be willing to subscribe (within those that can afford it) now that it doesn't feel like their only option.

if they prove able to truly listen to their fans, get back down to earth and actually conduct market research and value their audience, i think they'll actually be okay. they need to make real efforts to earn back trust and foster that feeling (and promote the damn ways people can actually support them omg promote the patreon) but i see them walking back from this. maybe not this month, but eventually? it'll hopefully be a distant disappointing thing that makes you go "im glad they listened and changed"

im glad they addressed the patreon members' worry and im glad they didn't dig their heels in and are willing to offer refunds (it Was the smart thing to do, but they just proved they don't always do that, so live and learn ig). i still didn't like how they talked about it like it is their own site when we now know it's just vimeo (and like, it's fine, i have nothing against vimeo. but don't pretend it's yours when you can't even control how many people share a password, it just sounds weird instead...)

tldr;

i appreciated the work they put into the apology, as well as the format they're deciding on going forward. a few details weren't great, but i can see them surviving this and going on to do good if they listen to fans and promote their content better.

(extra more personal bit you don't really need)

i don't have a lot of extra money but I'm an artist myself and I like to support creators I like, so I have a list of patreons I'd like to support for a month whenever i next can, and theirs is tentatively back on the list. i probably won't subscribe to the streaming service because that's not something that works with how i consume their work, but patreon? maybe.

#watcher #watcher entertainment #watcher tv

[pocketramblr]

AU! Inko having a sugar baby arrangement with Giran that accidently resulted in Izuku. Izuku has no idea who his father is, and Giran doesn't find out he has a son until later when the League captures Izuku instead of Bakugo.

oh good the antidote to Nao in Situations... Giran Simping!

1- I think Inko kept the sugar baby arrangement up with several others since, runs an OF, wrote some steamy novels under her OF name, that sort of thing. got an little online boutique she's started more recently with her designs for plus size clothes and underthings. Izuku is generally aware of his mother's career and is fine with it, and is also fine with Inko working to keep most of it out of his sight. just another one of those potentially awkward things they're accustomed to but don't talk about. like his mysterious father. or his seeming lack of a quirk.

2- seeming, as he lacks the toe-joint that says he's quirkless for sure, but nothing obvious has ever shown up. he's smart, but not unnaturally so. none of the mental quirk tests led anywhere. he isn't officially recorded as quirkless, but he assumes that by now he's got to be. Huh anyway weird that he is able to specifically remember instances of quirk use with perfect clarity because he's interested in it, able to analyze what he saw even if it was only once, and also, the weird ofa memory stuff- but we'll get to that

3- so izuku's got a fairly normal life, gets bullied, sludge villain, etc etc etc. And then he gets OfA. and then UA gets attacked. And then UA throws a sports festival anyway. and then he gets brainwashed. And then he sees weird ghostly figures behind All Might! But All Might says he's seen them before too, and they can't interact. just glimpses of the people who used to wield the quirk. Izuku's seen them earlier than he did, probably either the quirk being stronger or an effect of brainwashing. Ok, cool, normal. Iida tries to kill a serial killer, less normal. The next night, Izuku has a vivid dream of scolding some child named Kotaro for drawing on his teacher's desk in permanent marker. not normal at all. He has no idea where it came from. but it keeps happening. Strange dreams- not every night, maybe a few times a month, but each time vivid and unlike anyone he knows. It isn't until he's patching up a shirt in a dream, when a man opens the door and says "Bruce! We got a lead on All For One- and his brother!" that he realizes what he might be seeing. Nervously, he brings it up to All Might, who agrees it sounds like flashes of the past users he can see, but not interact with. after all, the dreams just play out as memories with him unable to change anything. But its probably just because of how strong OfA is now, with Izuku's practice charging it up more! "It's a wonderful sign, young Midoriya, and I hope you have good memory dreams tonight. You're going to the mall with all your classmates tomorrow, right? and camp is next week! Who knows what you'll pull out of that quirk next, incredible."

4- the mall... happens. And so does camp... and Dabi ends up with Izuku instead. Shigaraki complains loudly about not getting the one on the take list. Dabi complains loudly about how he didn't see Shigaraki doing any work on that mission. Izuku- well he doesn't complain, but he does ask pretty loudly why Kacchan was on the list, and Shigaraki goes "oh, friend of yours? i guess we can keep you alive long enough to lure him here." and Izuku has just enough preservation to point out he's pretty sure that won't happen. He does, however, end up chained to a chair, still in horrible pain due to his broken bones, listening to Shigaraki on the phone asking some guy for intel on him and Kacchan.

5- About an hour later, a guy walks in with a file of papers and shoves the top one at Shigaraki. Shigraki reads the paper. Looks at the new guy. reads the paper again. Looks at Izuku. Decays the paper. Tells the new guy he's got ten minutes, and orders everyone out. Izuku notes that Kurogiri is still there. New guy, who smells like cigarettes when he gets close to Izuku, stares at him. Izuku isn't sure what he's looking for, but he glares back. New guy huffs. "Well, you're certainly Inko's, at least." That gets a reaction from Izuku. Shoulders tense. Eyebrows narrow. "How do you know my mom?" "Well, kid, I'm an intel broker. That give you any ideas?" "My mom wouldn't go to a crook like you for information." He's right. "Right. Now come on, be smart kid. If we weren't meeting on account of my job, then...?" Izuku blinks. His mother's? but- no. Absolutely not. "Mhm. If i can remember my old password to get into this account i can show you the old messages we had... dated about seventeen years ago. You're just sixteen now, aren't ya?" New guy, who Izuku strongly hopes is lying, fiddles with his phone, typing something. "And I trust Inko to be professional, loyal. So there's an eighty percent chance, at least." "Eighty percent chance of what?" "What's your quirk, kid?" It takes Izuku too long to say "Superpower." New guy laughs. "Now if I knew Inko well, and I did, then 'superpower' is not the name she would have given the name of a quirk that powered her toddler's bones... but you didn't have that quirk back then. What's your real quirk, not the one you just got this year?" Izuku is pretty sure that Shigaraki's teacher is AfO. He knows about OFA, obviously, though Shigaraki doesn't. This guy may or may not. So instead of answering, he just shrugs. "Let me guess. You didn't have one, or, something about remembering? Maybe forgetting? Attracting memories, that'd be a fun combo, hah. Or, quirkless, like I was before, you know... we each found an in." Izuku tries to glare again, but... well, the memories in ofa are a new thing... and quirks can have strange activators... "Ah! Here we go!" New guy, who Izuku would rather not think of as 'eighty percent chance of being his father', moves around the chair and angles his phone down in front of Izuku so he can see the screen. Instead of old messages, there's a notepad. He scrolls slowly so Izuku can read. The writing on it says "look. we both know AfO wants your quirk. But he isn't going to try and get it until Shigaraki's done with you, so play along, maybe some info here and there to 'lure' the bakugou kid to you. even odds the heroes get here first and you're fine. if they don't, i can get afo to spare your life. not your quirk, but he'll let me keep my son. you can't fight out of here, i'm the only out. but you can't tell anyone about this deal. Not the heroes, not the other villains. got it?" Izuku stares at the note. "Do you get it, kid?" The broker asks, quietly. Izuku is pretty sure he's going to fight a way out anyway, but for now... "Got it." "Good." The broker stands up and walks back in front of him, "Izuku, right? Open up." Izuku starts to ask why and gets a cotton swab in his mouth for it, then before he can bite on it to break it it's out again, tucked into a bag then a pocket. "What was that for?" He snaps. "Well, gotta make sure, right? eighty percent isn't one hundred." "And if i'm not?" "Then Inko will owe me one hell of a favor." "... And if I am?" "Then you will." The broker shrugs, turns to go. "Wait-" Izuku starts, then isn't sure where to keep going. The broker looks at him. "What's your name?" The broker laughs a little. "Ah, good question. What'd Inko call me?" Izuku tries to remember. She didn't usually, but he thinks there was one time when it was someone else asking... "Hisashi?" "Hisashi." The broker repeats. "Ah, see, that's poetic! Much more the kind of name Inko would come up with. She's a great writer, you know." Izuku glares so hard that the broker who's definitely not actually named Hisashi makes his way out of the room without another word.

+1- when Shigaraki comes back, he orders Kurogiri give him something strong enough to wipe that mental image from his mind, and then starts asking Izuku about his friend. And his friend's weaknesses. Izuku is unimpressed and he almost forgets his maybe-dad's plan- "Kacchan is really strong, he doesn't have many weaknesses, since he's so practiced with his quirk that-", but only almost, "I don't know, i scared him with a spider once. but we were like, seven. and i guess i wanted to send him a whole box of spiders after he stole my all might-"..... Shigaraki latches on to the 'wait, he stole things from you? potential for crime? i knew it' thing, Toga latches onto the spiders box thing, and so does Dabi but he does it in the opposite direction, complaining that spiders is so basic, and by the time he was seven, he had already tried to murder his baby brother. Magne then asks "wait, you tried to kill a baby? not succeeded? you failed to kill a baby?" which Dabi then responds by reminding her of her less than stellar ratio of successful kills. Compress asks for one of whatever Shigaraki is having, and swipes his' drink too. Spinner keeps trying to sneak closer to Izuku to ask him questions about Stain, and Izuku is slowly starting to feel like he might actually survive long enough to escape or be rescued before he is either turned to dust or tortured for his quirk.

#click the readmore we even got making fun of dabi in there #'isn't simping for giran the cure for s-' its a panacea #pocket talks to people #ask game #anon

[latenightdecaf]

There are just so many things that don't sit right with that ep 14. (And I won't be able to do my work today if I don't write it down.)

Honestly, I've been enjoying this drama because of its fast pacing and the way it resolves things fast and as clean as they can. I didn't mind the inconsistencies to be honest, and some gaps in history

like why the fuck was haraboji's gf, so mad in the first place anyway?? like yes she went to prison, had a son, left that son and worked for haraboji and then??

the 1031 baby miscarriage was fine not to be addressed (unfortunately, I can forgive that - given that I have friend who went through the same thing and honestly did not really confront or grieved that with her husband either - they never moved on, but never talked about it either, so fine - we move forward.)

But honestly, this episode is just different than the rest in an unsettling way.

First, the scenes were cut so weirdly... like honestly, what do they want us all to feel here? They had the most beautiful confrontation about life, yes they walked to the hotel without looking at each other. Yes, Hae In stayed true to her character not wanting other girls to look at Hyun Woo. But honestly, that shit felt shallow and her charcter could've been more. They could've walked into a restaurant after fighting, with Hyun Woo just holding her wrist and her noticing the small ways this unbelievable man takes care of her even when he's mad - opening the door, ordering her food, idk, slicing it for her. It could've been slow, it could've been realizing that he had wrinkles now, that he looked tired, that he was having a hard time too - realizing that she wanted to live and be loved by this man no matter what. That if given a chance, even as stranger she'd still surely fall in love all over again. Her as the stranger, NOT those girls who was just prying. They could've twisted that up in a melo way. (But of course, we needed the romcom so of course.)

I could not even begin to point out how weird that car accident was. As viewer, I already know she's not inside... I know that moment was needed but again for Hae In to somehow magically realize she wanted that surgery but that's just torture by now. After everything they've gone through in Yongduri, she already knows how loved she was. Things could've slowed down a bit. And I'm sure Kim Ji Won would've executed that brilliantly (hello, my liberation notes). Idk, Hae In could've had more stronger reasons to live, or that case could've been built differently. Hae In is not shallow but they made her that way and yes, by the time she'd be regaining or building her connection back to Hyun Woo that script will be back again not wanting anyone else to have him. (ugh, Hae In :( I need more!!)

Third of course, Eunseong - so far his character just became so predictable that it totally put me off. Honestly thought (based on the preview without any actual context, that Hae In would be in the car accident with Eun Seong and then he dies to save her so he can finally be someone who actually saved Hae In) but yeah. He came in so conveniently in the hospital that no one even bother to ask why this stranger is now the legal guardian of Hae In like come on. (I know it's kdrama but come on that was WAY TOO CONVENIENT)

And lastly, that fucking surgery. Every single build up, every single suspense gone. She woke up after 5-10 mins inside the drama not even a bandage to her head!! They've could've dragged that a bit, not make her wake up too soon. Mess with us up some more, have the doctors come in, tell them "these things take time". Make Eunseong nervous! But no, she had to wake up immediately. Like come on!! It could've messed with everyone if that was dragged a bit more to the next episode. They could've deported back Hyun Woo to Seoul while Hae In is still unconscious with the devil by her side. We could've been at the edge of our seats if suspense was all they needed and now it just felt too rushed and too much by now. And then, Hae In will be back in Seoul like nothing happened with her (physically) and then she's with Eun Seong now. Ugh.

But despite it all, I'm thankful for this drama. I'm still going to be there next week to see this through. Honestly, what a world-class acting from Kim Soo Hyun and Kim Ji Won.

I'm just wrapping up my thoughts so I can finally go on with my day.

Thank you all for coming to my TED talk.

#kdrama thoughts #queen of tears #kim soo hyun #kim ji won #baekhong #I'm unearthing this blog because of this kdrama i swear gahd

[felizusnavidad]

"i don't think i'll ever understand musicals the way you do" is something i've heard from one of my friends a couple of days ago when i told him i'm about to cross the whole country just to see one of those (my favourite one!) live in theatre. and i can't blame him. if you'd have told me a year ago that i would do something like that, i'd probably have laughed in your face. life is so unpredictable. i guess i have changed a lot. and i could write thousands of essays about how musicals helped me get through the shittiest period of my life, but we are not going to talk about this today. today we are talking about in the heights, the first musical i got a chance to experience live in theatre, hopefully not last. so grab a cup of coffee and make yourself comfortable, this is going to be the longest essay you've ever seen, friends.

a little warning: spoilers. a lot of them actually. so if, by any chance, you haven't seen/heard it yet and you are going to, don't read it.

first thing i feel like i need to mention is that they had this mini bar inside the theatre and you could order a lot of different drinks there and one of them was called abuela's coffee. i heard one lady explaining to someone that it's actually coffee with condensed milk. my jaw dropped and i was like CAN I STAY HERE FOREVER, PLEASE? for those who don't understand why, here's a quote from the first song:

USNAVI: abuela, my fridge broke, i got café but no con leche ABUELA CLAUDIA: try my mother's old recipe: one can of condensed milk

so this was my first "OH! THEY GET IT!" moment (a little note here: i had a lot of oh, they get it moments, mostly because i don't have any people around me who understand musicals the way i do... honestly, you'd have to live inside my brain). that was the first time ever when i could actually be in the room where it happens with all those people who get it and care about it as much as i do (mostly actors and people responsible for the whole show tho, but we will get to this later).

let's get to the show. so when i finally went inside and i saw the stage, i already had tears in my eyes (don't judge me please). usnavi's store, abuela's door, daniela and carla's salon, all those puerto rican, cuban and dominican flags (one couple behind me was trying to figure out which one is which and it was funny because i knew and i wanted to scream)... listening and memorizing the whole soundtrack is one thing. being able to experience it all live is something else. all those things around me were so familiar and this was the first time in months (MONTHS! OR EVEN YEARS!) i felt really understood. after all, it was all like a little celebration of lin's story (the one i love with all my heart) and i truly felt like home. so that was another OH! THEY GET IT! moment.

i don't think i'm going to talk about every single song here, that's not the point. i will talk about my favourite moments, but also about things that didn't work very well in my opinion (again: this was a polish version so all the songs were translated into polish. and they did a really great job here, surprisingly. but it wasn't perfect, more about that later).

one thing you need to understand is that i will never be normal about musicals so of course i had to burst into tears at the very first song (i don't even know why, i think i was a little bit too excited). i was actually crying in the most random moments like when i first saw nina or at the end of carnaval del barrio because I KNEW WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT (who the hell cries at carnaval del barrio when everyone is having the time of their lives lol, me apparently).

ok, so the first song. the choreography, oh my god. it was everything. the translation was also pretty good here, i need to say this was probably one of my favourite moments. imagine me leaving today giggling like a child when usnavi came on that stage and started rapping, i was in heaven. also, i have to admit, the cast was amazing. i could never imagine anyone better for this role (and again, i am talking about polish actors because everyone knows who's the best usnavi of them all). he was cute and charming and awkward and so adorkable and also really handsome. he was actually perfect in my opinion.

i kinda lost my mind when i saw nina for the first time. first of all: i already knew who was going to play her and let's just say i fell in love with this actress before i even saw her live on that stage. this was important to me, because (as some of you know) nina rosario is my favourite character. and oh my god, she was an absolute perfection. what a voice, sweet jesus. i'm being serious, this girl is so talented, give her every award (i honestly hope i will have a chance to see her again one day, i'm just crazy about her). and breathe was so good! polish version was amazing, i was so scared they would screw it up, but they didn't, so all's good (this song is very important to me, ok?). also, she's a phenomenal actress, i could feel all her emotions for real. and of course i cried, what did you expect?

i don't have that much to say about benny, except that he was really cute and he had amazing chemistry with nina, so once again, the casting was really good. i mean, he is not chris jackson of course, but i have decided i'm not going to compare all those actors because everyone knows at this point how much i love OBC, i was trying to have an open mind. vanessa was also pretty great, amazing voice and her dancing skills, wow, just wow. i could talk about all those actors for days actually, but i'm not going to do that, so i will just quickly mention that i absolutely loved daniela and carla, abuela claudia made me cry, sonny was the funniest character in the whole play and i don't think i will ever recover after piragua guy's performance (i was the only person in the audience who was laughing when he came on that stage, they don't get it, ok? polish people have no sense of humour and that's a fact). actually, there were a lot of funny moments (obviously) and i was the only person who was laughing, god help me.

so let's get to the first thing that was a little disappointing for me. you will not believe it, but it was actually... 96,000 (this is one of my favourite songs and i seriously can't live like this). it's not the translation tho (it was honestly fine), it's the voice overlapping part at the end (again, the best thing ever, just listen to we don't talk about bruno from encanto and non-stop from hamilton and you will understand why it works so well in every lmm's song). the thing is, you could actually only hear vanessa's part and i wanted to die, because EXCUSE ME. i always sing usnavi's part and you could barely hear a word from it. but apart from that, the rest was fine, the choreography was amazing and it's just something i needed to mention because i had thoughts about it.

paciencia y fe! ok besties, i have thoughts, again. abuela claudia was absolutely incredible, also, her relationship with usnavi is something that you can't see in the movie version (they were so sweet i wanted to curl up and die. i knew about it before, i saw slime tutorial with obc on yt, ok? i'm pretty sure lin would be mad at me for watching bootlegs lol. i just wanted to say this). the translation didn't work out at the very end of the song tho, because when in the og version abuela sings about the "winning ticket", everyone knows already she won the lottery. i don't remember polish translation exactly, but it was something with double meaning, depends on how you interpret it, and i'm 100% sure people who didn't know the plot just didn't catch it. the rest of the song was absolutely beautiful tho.

when you're home. i was so afraid of this one, because i am totally crazy about this song (did i ever mention lin wrote this one after one of his first dates with vanessa? no? yes? ok i'll shut up about this now). oh, they did a really great job with it and it's a relief. i have nothing else to say, except that i was crying like a baby, but this song always makes me cry so what did you expect exactly? one of the best moments for sure. again, nina and benny's chemistry was absolutely incredible.

as much as i loved the club, i was actually really disappointed with one part, which is usnavi's famous "jealous i ain't jealous, i can take all these fellas, wHaTeVaaaaa". i've been waiting so long for this! and they messed it up with their stupid cringy translation which i don't even remember at the moment but usnavi was actually mad at benny and he cursed? ANYWAY. the rest of the song was great and the choreography was absolutely phenomenal, oh vanessa! let me get the next one! (i love her so much, she was amazing here). a little note from me: no one was laughing at the "no hablo ingles" part, NO ONE BUT ME!!! THEY DON'T GET IT! WTF! i was so mad (i am aware of the fact that most people probably didn't even know this story before and they just wanted to see a musical, not THE MUSICAL, which is totally fine. but sweet jesus, where is their sense of humour? they left it at home or what?).

and blackout was that part where the voice overlapping effect worked very well, so all's good. actually, one of the best moments for me as well. people were actually so confused when all the lights went down, but that was just so amazing. all the panic! everybody was screaming, crying! WE ARE POWERLESS! THE END OF ACT I!!! oh, i had the time of my life.

i had this weird feeling that they didn't exactly know how to translate most of hundreds of stories so they just made this song shorter than it actually is. which is fine i guess. honestly, it's better than bad translation, so i can forgive them. what i absolutely can't forgive tho is that the audience wasn't laughing at US NAVY. polish people, you have no fucking taste. i said what i said. and then again, usnavi and abuela's relationship was so sweet this song actually made me cry (mostly because i knew what was coming but also, i was just this weird girl who was sitting there in the second row and was crying at the most random moments).

ok, guys, honestly. carnaval del barrio was the best moment from the entire musical. oh, how much i want to experience it again! daniela was absolutely incredible, carla was so sweet, piragua guy stole the whole fucking show for me (seriously guys! he was just so amazing!). also, those little details i have never noticed before? i can't even tell if the same thing happened in the original version (the quality of that bootleg is actually terrible), but benny dancing with american flag somewhere in the background was so fucking funny and i don't think i will ever get over that part where at the end they were all still dancing and celebrating and nina and usnavi just ran away as fast as they could because... because you guys know what just happened. also, this is the moment i started crying.

i was so scared of it. let me tell you one thing, i experienced abuela's death at least fifty times and i still cry every single time. so atención is something i have to mention, because all the emotions and kevin's shaky voice made me burst into tears right away, and this time i wasn't the only one because i saw a lot of people crying when they realized what happened (i also heard a lot of OHs when he said abuela passed away, so yes, most of them didn't know this story and they were surprised). and alabanza was something else. believe me when i tell you i am writing this with tears in my eyes, i have never cried so much in public. this was the moment i was the most scared of and i was absolutely right because holy fuck. i was a mess. all the actors with those candles singing alabanza a doña claudia! (yes, they didn't translate it, all the spanish parts were left like in the original version and i am so grateful for that), it was just so sad and so beautiful. and this time i was actually like oh, they get it now (everyone was speechless and people were crying).

everyone must know at this point how much i adore champagne and i wasn't disappointed (thank god!). once again, usnavi was absolutely adorable here and people were actually laughing this time (also thank god!). how do you get this gold shit off? (my favourite line from the whole musical) was translated really well and the moment when usnavi and vanessa kissed! with all lights on them! this was so emotional and the audience reacted so well! we were all clapping (it was so funny to pretend like i didn't know it was gonna happen haha i was just as excited as all of them and once again i was like OH! THEY GET IT!). 10/10, would recommend.

if you think i wasn't crying during the last song, think again. one thing i absolutely hate about the movie version is that they actually changed the graffiti that made usnavi stay in washington heights, but i'm not gonna talk about that and i'm not gonna talk about vanessa also being there in the movie. in the original version it was a portrait of abuela claudia made by graffiti pete and oh boy, i lost my mind (i knew about it but i still lost my mind because it was absolutely beautiful). i got the feeling it was a little rushed in our polish version, but i can forgive them because it still made me cry. also, at the very end, usnavi did not only finally acknowledge he's home, when the song was over he pretty much told the audience that we are all home right now and may i just say... i felt that. i was home. they made me believe for the first time in my life i was where i belong, and somehow that was everything.

one thing about me is that this is actually all new to me. this was my first musical i saw live in theatre (and also lin's first child, which is exactly how it was supposed to be i think), and believe me when i tell you i've never had this much fun in my entire life, not even at all the concerts of my favourite artists. it was worth every money. it was worth spending 11 hours on the train and 11 more on my way back home, which by the way we should normalize (people are doing crazy things just to see their favourite artists on the stage and it's considered normal, so why can't we consider THIS normal?). anyway, i don't expect anyone around me to understand it the way i do, but i feel like i really found my thing, and it's all because of lin-manuel miranda, our beautiful puerto rican genius. he made me believe musicals can be cool and i truly wish i could thank him for that one day.

and like i said, in the heights is my favourite story with my favourite characters and i listened to it so many times i have memorized all the little details. experiencing it live is something completely different tho and i think it's safe to say this was the best night of my entire life. even tho most of the people in the audience didn't really get it, i finally felt like i was a part of this world created by my favourite genius and for the first time ever i felt understood. so i think i can say that now: i found my island, guys, i'm there, i'm home!

#if you were able to read the whole thing: congrats #also another note from me: i apologize for all those “they get it” “they dont get it” #i swear to god i am not making fun of anyone #you guys just know how much i am into it #and if other people were just there to enjoy it it's totally fine! #not everyone has to be obsessed! #but i am! #so i just wanted to explain it ok? #good. #also i apologize for it being so long but i had so much to say and i still feel like i didn't say everything i wanted #feel free to leave a comment or ask any questions if you want #now if you think i will finally shut up about in the heights on my silly little blog think again #i love it even more now if that's possible #and another explanation: i'm gonna tag this as my countdown because again i want all my ith posts in one place #thank you for your attention #it won't be long now* #why do you write like you're running out of time* #(not gonna tag this as ith cause this is only for my moots cause you guys get it) #(the last time one of my ith posts was seen by people who dont even know what that is i was depressed for days but that's another story) #(iykyk) #(and you know cause you left me tons of sweet messages guys i love you)

[crescentfool]

beaming everyone on the dashh with good brain day vibes!!! i hope that you all can remember to extend self-compassion to yourself whenever you're feeling down about something 💙

#lizzy speaks #the human brain works in such profound ways i think #lately i've been thinking about that post that was like 'you will always be your oldest friend take care of yourself' #it's definitely a sentiment i agree with and i appreciate how it emphasizes the importance of extending compassion to yourself #you wouldn't say such hurtful things to your friends right? (or at least i'd hope so) #so why would you say it to yourself? #you are your own friend too. and i think everyone has a beautiful soul within themselves. nurture it! water it! feed it good thoughts. #basically i wish everyone a 'i hope that your brain is not your own enemy but rather a friend that you can find comfort in' #things will work themselves out with time. there's beauty in life and you will find small delights to cherish!! i am manifesting it for u!! #and for those who find it difficult to transition from a self-critical mindset to one that's more compassionate and nonjudgmental #i truly think that with time you will be able to rewire your brain to be kinder to yourself. i'm proud of you for taking any first steps :) #there are times in which it feels counterintuitive to go against habits that feel hard-wired... but brains are very malleable littel guys- #with such a wonderful capacity for changing and learning new things. so i hope everyone can learn to be their own best friend! #not to undermine the importance of a support network ofc. that's good too and im all for that!! but i hope everyone remembers to be kind- #not only to others but also to themselves!! you're going to do great out there!! i love you all!! #ive just been thinking about this a lot... i needed to get it out there. you all shine so brightly!!! we shall be fine!!! have a good week! #sorry if this is out of nowhere but if there's anything about me you should know it's that i'm the 'hey dont cry 8 billion people on earth- #ok?' post. idk i just find great joy in knowing others are out there thriving and finding a daily delight yknow i love humanity!!

[sysig]

Roleswap(?) (Patreon)

#Doodles #SCII #ZEX #The Captain #As easy as this would be for a Setup - y'know lol - this idea actually came from an angst perspective #I mean - initially it would be fun and fine! ZEX gets his wish of a human! Doesn't have those 20 years of waiting and pining #Building up the idea in his head until he becomes So desperate that anything short of perfection is- Well hmm ♪ #I just keep getting stuck on the idea of that common trope of ''What made you like this?'' :/ #Or worse yet ''Did someone do something to you to make you like this?'' #An older human taking advantage of a brilliant young VUX! Are there no depths to which they won't sink! #Nevermind that no one would listen and he becomes a martyr yet again but this time not the scapegoat #''Oh poor traumatized ZEX he really never was the same after that'' ''It's so unfortunate but you can't blame him too much'' #As if any of them actually knew him at all huah #Until he speaks just a little too loudly about how he Wanted this he Reciprocated and it becomes too much of a nuisance to sympathize #The angst I'm telling you #He's in a very unfair situation no matter what! Either way he's being looked down on #Anything to spin things to be humans' fault! Anything to sweep deviation under the rug! #I wonder if he'd even be able to fight humans if this was the flow of things - would he be emotionally detached enough? #Would he even be allowed to? Worry of instability or defection? Is it worse to be disinvolved in the War with a mind like his? #So many moving pieces that would shake out so differently from just one chance encounter at a different time! #He's so integral to so many things having happened the way they did hehe <3 He's very important! #I also like to imagine that even being younger he'd still err on the eloquent side hehe ♪ VUX upbringing! Fanciful ♫ #His usual speech but just a little more hurried and nervous hehe <3 Complimenting his human's hair ♪

[aeide-thea]

i'm never knowingly going to reblog a post that includes the phrase 'touch grass,' and that's not because i don't think it can be psychologically beneficial to get in some outdoor time if possible—i went for a walk earlier! it was great!—or to take a break from conversations that are getting you wound up, but because i think that particular wording generally reveals two things:

first, that the writer is speaking not from a place of genuine concern and sympathy, but from judgmental impatience à la 'get therapy,' which—i too have felt judgmental and impatient in my time, god knows! but when i feel that way i try to go unpack those feelings in private with a thoughtful friend, instead of pretending they constitute a source of wisdom or a helpful sort of energy to direct at people, you know? and i'm definitely not particularly interested in boosting a ventpost from someone else—who pretty clearly hasn't bothered to take the breather they're urging on others, if they're making little digs like that—as if it were actually sincere, carefully-reasoned advice.

and second, that the writer's argument embraces some seriously sloppy assumptions, which pretty immediately undermines my trust in the rest of their analysis—i mean, there's absolutely no guarantee someone's local scene will be any less parochial, just because it's playing out irl! there's also not actually a clean divide between 'people who spend time in the Real World' and 'people who spend time on the internet, which is for porn losers,' as demonstrated by a number of phenomena including, again, the aforementioned grass-recommenders' own presence right here on tumblr…

anyway. obviously we all have our own particular lines we draw around particular rhetoric that bugs us! these are just some reasons why that particular phrasing bugs me.

#language #metatumbling #like. if what you mean is 'your stance would be totally incongruous outside the microcommunity you're speaking to'? #say that! #but also—it's fine to speak to the state of affairs in a microcommunity‚ actually #you just need to define your parameters #but like. so do people who are speaking to Broader Culture bc like. *which* broader culture. #even if you mean American Cishet Culture there are. so many kinds. new york ≠ nebraska. #but anyway it's just like. stop fucking making (and reblogging) these implicit ad hominem arguments #about how people who disagree with you must be idiots and losers because they don't get out enough #if they really are wrong you ought to be able to argue against them without resorting to digs any real leftist ought to be ashamed of #and if spending all one's time in the physically-embodied socially-embedded world really stopped people from being wrong… #well. pretty sure a lot fewer people would be wrong about things‚ if that were true. #anyway i left this to rot in drafts last week for prolixity reasons #and like. it remains guilty of those crimes but they don't render its fundamental assertion untrue. #anyway fundamentally this is the sort of thing you immediately sound like a 'terminally online' loser for protesting and i realize that #but like. if we refuse to open conversational doors because we're scared of the shame bucket someone juvenile balanced on top of them… #fuck that. i decline to live in fear of implicit rhetorical bully tactics.

[the-casbah-way]

very impossible to find the balance between "i want my friends to be able to talk to me about their problems and tell me when they're struggling" and "i am extremely emotionally fragile at the moment because i'm doing very badly and talking about very heavy topics especially with no warning is not something i feel capable of dealing with right now because i'm on the verge of a violent mental breakdown"

#i guess i need to find a way of telling people that i'm in that headspace in the first place #because i probably seem completely fine #but i can't tell people those things unless they explicitly invite me to do so first #so i'm assuming everyone just looks at me and goes yeah you seem fine so i can unload all this heavy stuff on you and you'll be able to cop #but unfortunately. i cannot and i feel guilty about it #but i already have way more bad days than good and when i have to hear people talking about like #very intense personal trauma and suicide and shit #it throws me off for the rest of the day and i go nonverbal until i can go straight home and sob until i fall asleep #and that is not an exaggeration it keeps happening to me with multiple different people #i don't want anyone to feel like they have to pretend around me in any way #but i also don't know how to cope with hearing intense things like this when i'm on a knife's edge mentally all the time #and i cannot afford to keep cutting my days so much shorter when i should be working #and also like when people DO talk to me about these things it's like #it's good they can get it off their chest #but now i'm holding onto all of the stuff they've just told me as well as the stuff i was already secretly holding onto about my own life #and now i have to go home alone with nowhere to put any of it because i don't have anyone to talk to #i've had people tell me this is therapeutic to talk about this stuff #but it's not for me because i'm not talking i'm just listening and then being overwhelmed and triggered and upset about it all #and most of it probably boils down to the fact that i cannot express my own feelings or tell people my boundaries #in situations this sensitive because it's so like. precarious and awkward #but i'm like i can't deal with it all the time it's too much

[maladaptive-daydreaming-aphant]

when did i become so hollow

the daydreams took root in my soul

safety guaranteed

indulgence abundant

reality forsaken

i work in customer service

our best barista

all smiles

no heart

i study at an online university

an exemplary overachiever

asynchronous

alone

i used to be unmistakeably human

vibrantly playful

imperfectly troublesome

daringly liberated

now there is only a glittering shell

so pretty

so faceted

so polished

so empty

i try to make conversation

but the only sounds i can make

are nervous laughter

and irrelevant anecdotes

and awkward acknowledgements

and then i regret every word

because i've filled the empty air

with even more nothingness

again and again and again

grief without tragedy

fear without danger

words without meaning

unable to confront discomfort

struggling to maintain tangibility

failing to express myself

because my mind no longer thinks about feelings

and my heart doesn't think at all

and my soul has withered to dust

overwhelmed by light and noise

agitated and restless

i shut everything out

and try to find myself in the silence

but i've already spent too long

wasting away

alone in my room

where dreams go to die

and vacant distractions reign supreme

#rivulette's thoughts #vent #poetry #not really either of those things but whatever i need to sleep #you can reblog it if you relate or think it's interesting i guess idc do whatever #i'm fine btw. not gonna do anything bad. not like i ever do anything at all anyway haha #i recently was able to meet with someone i haven't seen in half a decade. someone i really liked. someone i was really similar to. #her presence was so warm and lovely and familiar. different from before but strengthened and fortified. #and i stood before her like a haunted house for sale. flaws airbrushed and silenced. trash and treasures equally disposed of. unsettling. #breaks feel nice but only make me worse. i need an exorcism. or a lobotomy. or a long psychedelic trip. haven't tried any of those yet. #anyway gonna go to bed now bing bong fuck my life good night and good riddance