#due to the shitty road conditions

[msmargaretmurry]

Please elaborate about the border patrol incident

okay so, the border patrol incident is not really that dramatic, but it is very funny to me. when i was a young 20-something, one summer a friend and i decided to go on a month-long roadtrip across the continent and back. we had a lease on an apartment that didn't start until september, shitty little service industry jobs that didn't care if we disappeared for four weeks, and absolutely no standards for like, sleeping conditions or whatever. we got a hotel or motel room every 4-5 days to shower and stuff but mostly we were living out of my 2001 toyota camry, which ran just fine but was not in the best shape aesthetically due to being pretty old and also due to young me having sub-par depth perception and occasionally backing it ungently into things. also, because we were between apartments, the vast majority of our earthly belongings were packed into the backseat and trunk of this car.

the route of the trip was pretty meandering, but some stretches of it were based on the summer tour dates of bands we liked -- one of my favorites things to experience in a new city is its small/medium music venues, so this was a great excuse for doing that. anyway, we'd started the trip by driving north to montreal and then cutting west, but instead of going over the great lakes through western ontario we headed south, crossed back into the us at sarnia and went up through michigan's upper peninsula, wisconsin, minnesota. the night before we crossed the border again, we parked the car in the massive parking lot of the walmart supercenter in bemidji to sleep, which i remember distinctly because of the paul bunyan and babe the blue ox statues looming suddenly upon us in the middle of the night as we drove into town. that's not important to the story, but i am setting the scene here, which is that leading up to this encounter my traveling companion and i had just spent several days driving through a lot of deeply rural lake country with very little human contact except each other. the plan that day was to hit a concert in winnipeg and so we awoke with the sun, availed ourselves of the bemidji walmart supercenter facilities, and headed north.

the border crossing our google maps directions took us to was the one on route 59, which is a very small and not very busy crossing. i think the border guards were quite bored. in retrospect i can see how a couple of young women in this old, stuffed-to-the-gills car with virginia plates seemed pretty strange, but also in retrospect i still maintain they didn't have to be dicks about it. they checked our passports, asked where we were from and where we were headed -- to a concert in winnipeg -- and then decided that they needed to unpack the entire car to make sure we weren't carrying anything illegal, because, they said, groupies like to bring drugs to concerts.

please recall that we had so much stuff in this car. clothes and books and food and small furniture. the tetris of packing it was both an art and a science. i was NOT happy to have it dismantled by these border men. at one point they were like, ohhh see ALCOHOL and i was like, yeah, it's in the trunk so obviously no one is getting at it while driving so who cares?? and also it's not enough to have to declare so truly who cares. by the end of this process our cache of earthly belongings was scattered around the car in the road on the canadian border, and they begrudgingly allowed us into the country, but a single other vehicle had arrived at the crossing so they told us we needed to hurry up and get out of the way.

now i was already stewing in anger over a) the characterization of us as female fans traveling to a concert as "groupies" and b) the characterization of groupies as ~obviously~ carrying drugs. no disrespect to actual groupies or to drug users, live ur lives!! but we were neither if those things in that moment and i found the generalizations very gross, so i snapped at the border guards that the car takes a lot longer to re-pack then unpack and also maybe they should consider being less sexist. they did not like this very much. i also do not think they liked my lecture about their assumptions about female music fans, but imo they deserved it. afterward when we were finally driving into the grand prairies of manitoba, my friend was like, becky...... maybe in the future consider not picking fights with the border guards considering they get to decide if we cross the border. and i was like. well. we got in didn't we lmao.

in conclusion we did make it to the show in winnipeg, where we failed to read the fine print on the parking signs and also i sliced my foot open on something in the mosh pit, turning me into a person who now will tell literally anyone at any given opportunity, "yeah, i've been to winnipeg, and all i got was a parking ticket and a flesh wound."

#ask #i would like to say my decision-making skills have improved since then but #well #it's up for debate #anyway i am still in the mountains but thank u to the people who have sent kissing prompts i am excited to write them

[sshoujo-ais]

Okay here are two:

🌟 and Yugiri? (So far, anyway)

Aaaaand 🌟 I'd like to hear more about the philosophical relationship between Beckett and Faraday plssss

in "so far" terms i would say yugiri and sorako have a healthy appreciation for one another. both being au ra and active participants in the "garleans gtfo out of my country challenge" they would have some baseline sense of kinship. oh and that time they helped save raubahn together. i feel like they'd go out for tea once or twice with each other.

beckett my buddy! i've touched on this in our private conversations already but it's something like a symbiotic relationship with these two. faraday being new to vampirism would want to know and learn about her new condition and the lore behind it, and here comes this guy who happens to know the lore behind it and can fill her in. and then obviously faraday being a brujah is opinionated as fuck and has her own takes on a lot of this lore, and beckett i imagine would enjoy a fresh perspective on stuff. or to have someone who actually challenges him (another brujah trait lmao) rather than just nodding along. no pun intended. probably the biggest issue with their whole dynamic is that faraday is mostly confined to LA due to her political affiliations while beckett is - wait beckett canonically has a private jet. how many co2 emissions does his search for the book of nod contribute to air pollution lmao. but the point is it's uncommon for them to be in the same place, beckett is very difficult to reach by email and faraday can't afford to send letters all over the damn planet from her shitty santa monica apartment, so they very rarely get to actually catch up with each other. well and there was the whole vampire road trip thing too but i don't have to tell you about it :p

#thank u bee!! #buzzy bestie #i have a lot more to say about beckett but this is already a small novel by my phone screen's standards

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Just in case it helps with dysphoria around periods or the uterus ….

the uterus does key things for our bodies and not reproductive stuff either — things like helping to correctly coordinate our hormones which keeps our whole self healthy, and also physically holding that space. Besides shitty doctors who refuse on sexist “but what if you want a baby” reason, there ARE excellent reasons why good doctors don’t want to take out the uterus unless the patient is really sure and has a medical condition make it worth it (including extreme periods for some). It can increase risk of dementia, osteoporosis, and more due to hormones going more out of wack with it missing. Speaking of the structural aspect, my aunt suffered a vaginal prolapse after she had to have hers taken out for cancer reasons. It’s not a casual plug in or pull out type of organ and it’s also not just “for” reproduction. As if any part of our bodies has to be used for any reason. Idk why I used to feel like that but I did. It felt like it being there was a threat and a burden and nothing else.

Oddly enough learning that and learning how it supports my health and doesn’t just exist to hurt me or “for reproduction” has helped me feel way less dysphoric about all of it to the point that I’m cool with it again. Took time though for sure. A big perceptive shift, similar to how I came to love my fat being however is when I feel healthiest — which happens to be a little “over weight” by the charts. Seeing it as supportive of me and not just a site of pain (whether periods or social ridicule) was the key.

sorry if you already knew this or to bother you if it’s unwelcome. It helped me on the road to peace with my self and body (same thing it turns out). It very well may not speak to you.

I could have sworn I had anons turned off, what the hey.

I appreciate you trying to help, Nonners, and I'm actually answering this just in case what you have to say does help someone else.

But, none of it helps me. I'm already well aware of all the purposes behind a uterus aside from the reproduction aspect, and my dysphoria isn't really much to do with that (though it does play a factor). Mostly, when my period hits and the feeling of "this is not my body" kicks in, it's because of the period itself. It's the debilitating cramps, the blood, the nausea, the fatigue, the mood swings, the period shits, the smell, the acne. There's a feeling and a thought in the back of my head whenever my period happens that there's something wrong, and it's the same feeling I get when I get sick or injured.

Knowing what else a uterus does for the body, knowing why a doctor would be hesitant to take the damn thing out of me, knowing why it's there doesn't make me feel better. It makes me feel worse. It reminds me that my body isn't my own, that unless and until I can find someone to remove it, I'm beholden to this damn thing I never wanted for five to seven days every four weeks until I turn 50.

I'm glad knowing more about the uterus and how it's a key factor in our bodies helped you, Anon, and I hope it can help others. I still want the damn thing out.

#answered asks #dysphoria #I feel like I need to tag this with a trigger warning but I'm not sure what for #seriously though I had anons turned off what the fuck tumblr

[olderthannetfic]

I wanted to ask you about radical feminism (TERF-ism & TIRF-ism). Radical feminism never seemed to be *necessarily* some of the really bad things that people on this blog say it is. For instance, everything roach-works says it is in an earlier post. There are at least some people I've read who are part of the movement of radical feminism (whether or not they would self-identify as that) and who really don't espouse any of the views in roach-works comments. (1/2) Thinking of the list of points

--

From nothorses - the people I’ve read (e.g. Iris Marion Young) *do* espouse many of these, but not so in a way that has to lead to these more extreme views that roach-works mentioned. One may not agree with them but they don’t seem so bad to me? Are they? Am I a terrible person? It disturbs me to hear something with the word 'feminism' in it denigrated so harshly, and it always seems to me like the views get mixed up with the worst half of the people who believe in them. (2/2)

(Appendix...) I feel there's a lot of truth in SOME of the views that nothorses correctly ascribes (i. m. o.) to radical feminists, in particular: "Women are all miserable with their bodies, cursed with the pressure to reproduce and have sex with men. ... miserable with their genders, forced as they are to ensure the overwhelming and constant suffering that is patriarchy." Is it just that the "all" makes the views too strong? Or is there, for critics, a more fundamental problem I'm missing?

I've seen some much nicer, saner people self-describe as radical feminists and object strenuously to how I see radfems... However, all of them still kept talking about porn in terms that only make sense if you're talking about the evils of the mainstream industry, and moreso the mainstream industry of the 1970s (which is when a lot of this rhetoric comes from). And yet this attitude gets over-applied to porn in general, regardless of medium, working conditions, or level of economic necessity involved in its creation.

The attitudes I think are pretty much universal in this ideology, and universally shitty, come out when they're confronted with fsub content by and for women.

Yeah, yeah, "mommy porn". I'm not saying Fifty Shades of Grey is well written or not kind of embarrassing, but when people start bleating about how confused womenfolk will get bad ideas from it, you should be suspicious, whether they're radfems or fundies.

"The hot billionaire falls in love with me for no reason and does all the work to make sex hot while I lie there like a dead fish" is a common fantasy. It really doesn't say anything about the woman in question, nor does it make the patriarchy stronger.

The big one to look for from nothorses list is #5:

Sex, in particular, is more often exploitative than not. Only some kinds of sex are not exploitative. Many kinds of sex that we think are consensual, or that people say are consensual, are either rape or proto-rape.

This is saying "BDSM is rape", which is something that most radfems do think once you scratch the surface. Rape roleplay is also rape and furthering the patriarchy.

Even if they make some small allowance for informed adults doing BDSM in some strict environment with specific rules, show them 50SoG and women's right to choose goes out the window. Sure, the relationship in the book looks pretty unhealthy, at least at the beginning, but the thing being criticized is readers' right to choose.

Even the radfems who support butchness and don't think butch women are gender traitors will usually be assholes over trashy wank material like 50SoG.

And once you open the door to "your libido is political", you've started down a very dark road that leads to a bunch of naturally kinky tumblr teens sitting in their bedrooms, staring at their computer screens, and wondering if they're a future rapist because they like a/b/o or sex pollen or something.

--

I get where you're coming from. Maybe you're in a context where most women are pretty miserable. But I'm not. I was raised by a mother who thought diets were stupid and telling your daughter what you think of her body is active child abuse.

Being a victim of abuse, including "you're too fat" type abuse, is neither inherent nor unique to women. Sure, women tend to be under the microscope, but so are lots of people.

As an upper middle class anglo white woman in the US and moreover as a woman who looks fairly conventionally femme even with my very hairy legs (much to my annoyance), I honestly don't experience that much policing. I already, through no fault and certainly no merit of my own, conform reasonably well to the "neutral" standard of white womanhood. My male equivalent would be the most unmarked in the US, but I'm only a little marked.

What this gender-obsessed analysis misses is that it's not about womanhood: it's about failing to be the "neutral" default. Poor people fail. Black people fail. Asian people fail. Disabled people fail. At least in the US. In Japan, third generation Korean-Japanese fail. Burakumin fail despite being ethnically Japanese due to having been a separate caste for centuries.

"Intersectionality" on social media tends to get used as miserypoker: the speaker with the most listed oppressions wins the argument and you should signal boost them or you're a bad person.

In actuality, what intersectionality means is recognizing that gender and sex may sometimes just not be very important in a given person's life if they experience enough privilege or if, conversely, they have such a profound lack of privilege elsewhere that this other identity overshadows gender in terms of their lived experience.

Radfem ideology says I must prioritize Woman out of my many identities. But, in reality, I feel more kinship with bisexual men than with lesbian women. I feel more kinship with kinky straight people than with bisexuals who want AO3 and pride parades to be nothing but g-rated hand holding.

--

I get that it's upsetting for people to be railing against something called "feminism", but that's like saying that disliking the Jews for Jesus makes you antisemitic. The whole point is that a lot of people feel that radical feminism is pretty anti-woman in many of its core values.

I don't think you're a bad person. I do think that some of the underpinnings of radfem ideology lead directly to sensitive people who are concerned about such things wondering if they are.

[mammonshuman92]

- Joy Ride -

(Saeyoung x F!MC)

**TW: cussing, implied seggs, my shitty writing lol

“No, wait! Y/N this wasn’t part of the bet!” Saeyoung exclaimed, following close behind you.

You spun on your heel to face him, “The deal was, that if I got a perfect score on my final exam, I got to do one thing, anything I wanted. That’s what you said, right?”

“Um, w-well yeah, but I thought it’d be like, bedroom stuff or something. Not this.” He sounded so desperate. “Besides, I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

“Saeyoung!” You shouted, playfully slapping his arm and acting as if you were offended.

“Ow! What? I’ve seen your test scores. I thought this was an easy win for me.” He confessed.

“Rude.” You turned away from him and continued walking down the hallway, reaching the door of your destination. You stopped, and faced him again.

“What were you gonna ask for, had you won?” You asked, curiously.

He wiggled his eyebrows at you, “Bedroom stuffs.”

You rolled your eyes and giggled, “Geez, you horn dog!”

You opened the door, and flicked on the light.

“It’s not to late to change your mind, Y/N! I-I’ll get you a puppy! Or we can do those tik tok thirst traps you”re always trying to talk me into. Please, Y/N. Anything but this.”

His last-ditch efforts to persuade you weren’t working. You wouldn’t change your mind.

“No deal.” You said, nonchalantly grabbing a set of keys off their place on the holder on the wall, and jingling them at him.

“Get in. We’re going for a drive.”

“Y/N please, I’m begging you. Not my babies!” He was all but having a nervous breakdown in the passenger seat.

“Calm down, Sae. She will come back in the exact condition she’s in now.” You said, marveling at the jet black interior. The back light behind the dash and all the controls was the same color red as the exterior. You felt like a kid in a candy store.

Saeyoung groaned in the seat next you you. “Why did you have to pick the most expensive one though?”

The car you chose happened to be a limited edition Herrari, highly customized, and extremely pricey. It was definitely his favorite one. 

“Because of why it’s the most expensive.” You said, practically bouncing in your seat. You turned the key, and she roared to life. Adrenaline rushed through you.

Your response slightly confused him. “Because you look cool?”

You scoffed, “That’s just a perk, I guess.” You buckled your seat belt, then turned to look at him. “I’m after that customized, super charged engine.” You confessed, quickly putting it in gear and zooming out of the garage.

You were weaving in and out of traffic with ease, heading for a more secluded area. Saeyoung kept making odd little noises beside you, and you were sure you even heard him silently praying.

You chuckled at him, “Relax, alright? I’m an excellent driver. Probably even better than you.”

Oh, now he’s salty.

“No one knows my babies better than I do.” He said, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest. You laughed at him.

“There’s things about me that even you don’t know, Mr. Hacker.” Your mysteriousness has intrigued him.

“Do tell.” He prompted you.

“My folks owned a mechanic shop.” You began, “I grew up in that garage, learning to work on all kinds of cars. From oil changes on family minivans, to fully customizing sports cars. Like this one.” You gently patted the steering wheel. “I’ve always been around cars.”

“A basic background check revealed that after you first came to the RFA.”

“Yes, but the most important part is secret. It can’t be found on any files, anywhere.”

Traffic had thinned out a lot, now that the sun was starting to set, leaving the highway wide open. You accelerated, knowing that you would soon reach your destination. He did seem to be relaxing a little.

To say that Saeyoung was curious, was an understatement. He loved unearthing secrets. It’s kinda what he does. 

You exited the highway onto the all too familiar secluded stretch of road you knew so well.

Saeyoung looked out the window and turned to you, his eyes were big and curious. What were you planning? 

“Go on.” He urged.

“Well, when I got old enough, my Dad let me in on the family business that happened after hours: street racing.”

“Street racing? But, why would that be secret?” He asked.

You pulled into what looked like an abandoned lot. The thick cover of trees kept it well hidden while you were on the road. It wasn’t until you pulled further in, that he noticed several sets of lights. He was so confused.

When you got closer, he noticed that the lights were actually headlights, belonging to dozens of drool worthy sports cars.

“Well, you see, it’s kinda... illegal.” You confessed with a sheepish grin.

He looked at you with wide eyes, mouth slightly hanging open. 

“Y/N L/N! You? Illegal?” He put his hand over his heart as if he were shocked. Although, he really was.

“Oh, stop! Like you didn’t use to do all kinds of illegal things before you got out of the agency.”

“Well yeah, but this is you we’re talking about! Sweet, innocent Y/N. Well, you’re not very innocent when we-”

“Sae!” You yelled, causing him to laugh at you.

“For real though. I would’ve never pegged you as someone to be into something like this.” He said, gesturing to all the other cars in front of you.

“You should know better than anyone that you shouldn’t judge a book by it’s cover, 707.” He smiled at you.

 Although his time with the agency was agonizing, he didn’t mind the use of his old code name. Especially if it came from you.

You circled around, and parked the car at the very end of the line. You popped the hood and got out of the car. Saeyoung followed suit, and propped the hood open. His car wasn’t the most customized car there, but it was one of the rarest which quickly drew in a flock of enthusiasts.

“Shall we, 606?” Saeyoung was smiling as he extended his hand out to you. You took it, intertwining your fingers in his. 

The two of you walked around, hand-in-hand, looking at all the other cars and talking specs with the owners. Saeyoung was in Heaven. His “precious babies” wish list was getting longer by the minute. You couldn’t help but giggle at him.

“So, what about all of this makes it illegal?” He asked. 

You were now sitting on the little grassy hill behind all the cars, watching as one after the other raced each other. 

The empty lot used to belong to a mall that was demolished long ago, leaving behind the giant lot and the long stretch of road attached to it. It became abandoned after the new highway was built. It was the perfect place for racing though.

“Some of these cars have parts in them that make them illegal.” you explained, “the parts themselves are in fact legal, like the engine and spoilers and stuff. But after they’re customized, they make the car much faster and it’s no longer ‘street legal.’ They’re not as worried about the car parts as much as they are about the racing, though.”

Saeyoung nodded in understanding, turning toward you slightly, “So, how exactly did your parents get into all of this?” He asked, gesturing around you.

You pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs, “My dad’s always been a gear head, so when he overheard a conversation about some underground racing ring, he had to go see it for himself. He ended up meeting my mom at one of those races, too. Our whole family is car crazy.” You said with a laugh.

“Does it bother you? I mean, the legality of it all?” He, more than anyone, knew the toll getting mixed up in illegal activity to take on a person. Granted, his was far worse than some illegal car parts, but still.

“Kinda, but we just wanna race fast cars. We don’t want to hurt anyone, which is why we come all the way out here. There’s far worse criminals than us.” That doesn’t justify it, but whatever.

As you were talking, you noticed some of the people around the two of you started to scramble. You jumped up from where you had been sitting. 

Saeyoung, immediately reverting to fight or flight Agent 707 mode, was on his feet in an instant.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” He asked, voice heavy with concern, scanning your face.

Just then, through the trees right before you turn into the lot, you saw flashing lights. Someone behind you shouted.

“Cops!”

You turned to Saeyoung, “C’mon, we gotta go! Now!”

You ran to the car, pulling Saeyoung by the hand behind you, and got in the driver’s seat. You wasted no time starting the engine, thinking over your escape plan.

Several cop cars were pouring into the lot. You buckled the seat belt and took a deep breath. Saeyoung seemed surprisingly calm, given the situation.

“You’re not nervous?” You asked.

“About the cops? Nah. The driving I’m sure you’re about to do in my most precious baby? Absolutely.”

“You haven’t even seen driving yet.” You said with a devilish grin, prompting him to buckle up.

People all around you jumped in their cars and sped off. You put it in drive and accelerated quickly, going the opposite way as the majority. A few others following suit, seeming to be aware of this most unused exit.

“Isn’t that the only way in here?” Saeyoung asked, referring to the entrance the cops kept flooding in from, you shook your head.

“When the mall was still here, there were several ways in and out. Some of those are impassable now due to the demo of the building, or because nature took over and it’s now overgrown. However, there are still a couple ways out.” You assured him, “And, aren’t you the one who said to always have an exit strategy?” He grinned slightly.

“You’ve learned well, 606.” You smiled at the use of your favorite nickname.

The exit you took was a little different than the highway you took to get here. It was considered a “back way” out. The secluded road was a little curvier, with some small hills thrown in. 

During the daylight, the scenery was beautiful but at night it could be dangerous if you weren’t careful. To make sure you were always prepared, your father made you drive all over the area around the racing lot, until you knew every entrance and exit like the back of your hand.

The speedometer steadily climbed, the car hugging every twist and turn, like it was made specifically for this road. After a couple random turns, you were sure you had long lost any cops that may have followed you. You let up on the gas a little, letting your current speed slowly fall back into the “Saeyoung’s most precious baby” approved range.

“Whoa.” Saeyoung said quietly, he hadn’t said anything since you first got in the car.

“You okay?” You were worried that maybe he was on the verge of losing it. A lot of people can’t handle going such high speeds. They either get really scared, or puke. Or both.

“That was...amazing!!” He yelled, his sudden outburst startling you, before laughing at his reaction.

“Oh, yeah? Does that mean I can drive your cars more often?”

He turned to face you, giving you his sweetest smile.

“Absolutely not.”

“What?! Why?” You protested.

“Y/N, this is a limited edition Herarri.”

“Sae, c’mon. You’ve got to open up the engine every now and the-”

You stopped mid-sentence when you noticed a set of headlights pop up behind you. Saeyoung looked at you curiously, waiting for you to finish. He turned around in his seat to look out the back window when he noticed that you kept looking in the rear view. Then, flashing lights.

“Shit! I was sure I lost them.” You hissed, quickly stepping on the gas. “How did they find us?” 

“Now what?” Saeyoung asked, turning back around in his seat.

“We lose them for real.”

The speedometer slowly kept climbing, reaching the triple digits. You flew down the straight stretch of highway, the flashing lights behind you barely keeping up with your speed.

“Sae?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for what I’m about to do.”

“Huh? What do you mean? Y/N?”

Getting off the road and laying low was your best option right now. Home wasn’t too far from your current location, and in order to make it there with enough time to hide the car in the garage and throw them off the trail, you couldn’t compromise your speed.

You pressed harder on the gas pedal, the arm on the speedometer rising rapidly.

“Y/N?” By his tone, you could tell Saeyoung was getting nervous, but you didn’t let up.

“Remember the turns up here? Y/N?”

The lights behind you were getting further and further away. You were losing them. You were going to make it.

You were quickly approaching the turns he had mentioned, the ones right before the house. Almost there.

“Hang on!” You instructed right before the first turn.

“Y/N! No, no, no, no!”

The car beautifully drifted around the turn, losing the cops that more much, and Saeyoung losing his mind.

You went around the second turn with ease as well, the back tires losing traction, spinning freely. It was all so smooth, even at these high speeds.

You straightened out after coming out of the last turn, cops unable to catch up. The house was only about a few blocks away, as fast as you were going, you’d be there in no time.

Using his phone once you got in range, Saeyoung had the garage door open, awaiting your arrival. 

You checked the rear view one last time, making sure they still hadn’t caught up. You were in the clear.

You screeched to a stop in the garage, quickly parking and bailing from the car. Saeyoung quickly slapped the button on the wall to shut the garage door while you turned off the lights.

The two of you quickly went inside, going right to Saeyoung’s computer. He pulled up the live security feed all around the perimeter. You watched the cops drive past the front of the house on the monitor. After a few minutes of no activity, Saeyoung decided the coast was clear. You let out a heavy sigh.

“Y/N..” Saeyoung said, voice quiet. His back was to you, still facing the monitors.

“Y-yeah?” You replied sheepishly.

You were in trouble. Big trouble.

“What you did... that was..”

“I’m sorry! I swear I won’t ev-” You started to apologize profusely before he cut you off.

“Awesome!!” He yelled, turning to face you, eyes wide with excitement.

“I’m sorry, what?” Surely you hadn’t heard him right. 

“It was like we were in an action movie! It was incredible!”

“You do realize that your last job was as a secret agent, right? But, you think my driving was like an action movie?” You were so confused.

“Oh yeah! I mean, I can drive too, don’t get me wrong. I just never expected something like that from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“It means that my amazing, talented, beautiful girlfriend kept a truly awesome secret from me! Not fair, by the way.” He dramatically pooched out his bottom lip.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you Sae, it’s just that my family could get in trouble..” 

“It’s okay, I understand. But..” He trailed off.

“But?”

“Well, after taking my most cherished and most expensive baby out drifting, she’s going to need some pampering.” He sounded serious, but the face he was making didn’t match. He was up to something for sure.

“Okay..? No problem. I am a mechanic, after all.”

“Then it’s a deal.” He said with a smirk. He promptly scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder.

“Ah! Saeyoung, what the hell?” You screeched, making him laugh.

“What? I’m paying up front. And I must say, I’m looking forward to doing business with you.” He said with a smirk, carting you off to to the bedroom, both of you giggling the whole way.

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger fluff #saeyoung fluff #saeyoung choi #saeyoung x reader #saeyoung x mc

[melancholia-cressa]

Weakness

So, one random morning, I was listening to a certain song for the first time. Once the lyrics sunk in, I just had this idea for a Dio and female reader-insert fic. Hope you enjoy it, even if I do hate the guy lmao.

warning: angst, implied child abandonment, mentions of blood and death, swearing, and minor spoilers for those who have not finished Part 1

Addendum: I actually forgot to mention that I based my interpretation of Dio's personality and thought process mostly from the Over Heaven light novel. It's a good read and it helps you understand his character better, so I say give it a shot

                         •:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

"How many times has it been this week?"

Dio grunted, turning his cheek away from the girl in front of him. Your arms were crossed over your chest with a brow quirked in a silent question. He felt the bruise on his cheek sting and smart by the slightest brush of the wind. If anything, the painful sensation was intensified by your glare. His tongue flicked over the cut on his lip in a fruitless attempt to wipe off the blood. Your exasperated sigh reached his ears; nothing more than a whisper in the breeze.

"Come here, you stubborn mule." Before Dio knew it, you had grabbed his arm and dragged him away from the bustling streets of urban London. Passersby didn't spare a glance for the two teenagers dressed in soiled commoner clothes.

Dio, hoping to spare himself from the embarrassment of allowing a girl to drag him around, watched the crowd go about their mundane activities. Women gossiped with each other, hands covering their mouths to stifle scandalized gasps, while men languidly talked about adult matters—business and what other dull subjects they had in mind. His gaze drifted to the hollowed junction between a clothing shop frequented by aristocrats and an apothecary that had seen better days. The blond already sensed the death and neglect in the air before the sight made his skin crawl. He caught a glimpse of a man in tattered rags whose back hunched over, shoulders sagging from the weight of his head tucked towards his chest. His hand loosely held the neck of a bottle of booze, empty and hidden in the shadows. The hairs on the nape of Dio's neck stood on end, but a harsh tug from you brought him back to reality.

"We're almost there," you told him. You looked at him from the corner of your eye before focusing on the road ahead. Your hand, small and thin with a bony wrist, squeezed his arm before abruptly jostling through the crowd. The throng of people parted, cleaving a path towards the outskirts of the city. Dio scowled, directing his attention to the cobblestone path and ignoring the pain blossoming in the palm of his clenched fist. Murmurs from the socialites rang as clear as the church bells, but you paid no mind to it. Something about your indifference made his indignation and annoyance worsen; his blood dangerously close to boiling over what little patience he had. Another squeeze of his arm and a quick glance from you told him this was a losing battle, one he had never won before. With a scoff, Dio grudgingly remained silent and continued to let you drag him.

From how long Dio knew you and vice versa, he wouldn't be surprised if you somehow noticed his apprehension and discomfort. He never understood why you went out of your way to help him. The first time he met you, Dio had slapped your hand away when you tried to help him off the ground. He expected you to either cry or throw a tantrum, like all the other girls he observed from his time in the slums, but you didn't. Instead, you looked him in the eye with a glimmer of emotion Dio couldn't describe.

"Sod off. I'm helping you, and that's that." The look in your eyes remained even when you roughly pulled him up and dragged him back to your home to tend to his bruises and cuts. Now, here he was again, being dragged by you and your insufferable pity suffocating him. Its spindly fingers ghosted over his neck, which uncomfortably tickled his skin; sharp nails poking the soft flesh that one squeeze could puncture it. Every time your eyes met his, Dio could see the swirl of indiscernible feelings in your gaze, forlorn and soft, just like his deceased mother's. The one who died thinking about others on her deathbed and wishing his son to do the same. The woman who lost her life in return for compassion and kindness. You resembled his mother—the gentle grasp on his arm, the feather-light brush of fingers tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear, the small smile that crinkles the corners of her eyes, the warmth in them—to the point where he found it disgusting and wretched.

He hated it, everything about you, but why did he still keep you around?

The cold, trickling sensation that dripped down his cheek made him jump in his seat. A cough echoed in his ears, followed by a faint snort that told him someone refrained from laughing at him. The corners of your eyes wrinkled in mirth while you held a cold, wet rag to his bruised cheek. He must have looked comically bewildered because you stuffed a fist over your mouth to keep in your giggles. A frown tugged the corners of Dio’s lips as his brows furrowed.

“What are you laughing about?”

“Oh, nothing,” you hummed. Your free hand grabbed his to replace the other one holding the cold rag, “Hold still while I get some more ice from the ice box.”

With that, you left with your skirt swishing from the rush towards the kitchen. A grunt rang in the living space, courtesy of the blond begrudgingly holding the cool cloth to his bruise. Upon looking around, he noted that nothing much had changed from the last time he was here (which was around a week). Moth-eaten curtains hid the windows, most likely coated in dust and grime, and the floorboards creaked at every step you took. The wooden chair he sat on felt cold and sturdy, indicating how you rarely sat on it due to your apprenticeship in the city, while the table across him bore scratches hidden under a doily you embroidered. A basket with a few apples and grapes tempted him, but he didn’t act on it. The house, smaller than his own, is located on the outskirts of the city, and he still couldn’t understand how you lived here by yourself like this. Knowing that women can’t own property of their own, Dio had asked you a question: how did you keep the house to yourself?

“I lie about father sending me on errands,” was your simple reply despite the fact that your parents were long gone. One morning, Dio had found you dragging your feet in the streets and, when you had suddenly leaned into him, the quiet sniffles told him everything. He had taken you home that night—damn his father, he never even cared where he went as long as he brought back a bottle of alcohol—and stayed upon your request. The moment he led you to your room, glimpses from an open door showed him emptied drawers and a barren wardrobe. A drawer box was left hanging from its cabinet, as if it was pulled out in haste. The candle was barely touched. Its wick remained spotless and barely any wax dripped down the candle holder atop the cabinet. He didn’t need to see the rest of the room to know what happened.

His ten-year-old mind didn’t know why he stayed, much less took you back to a cold, lifeless house. Yet, he did all that and more—he kept you by his side without a single, logical reason. You didn’t follow him around like a lost puppy would. If anything, he seemed to be the one drifting anywhere near you. He would wander the slums and traipse through the bars for scraps, mostly booze for his deadbeat father, then his gaze would land on you. You were there every single time, whether it was for apprentice work in that dress shop or buying bread in the bakery, and it drove him mad. Dio, the one who survived alone in this shitty reality of his, subconsciously seeking your company like a besotted fool. The very thought makes him scoff and laugh. Every time he asked himself about these coincidences, he came up blank. His mind conjured nothing but the image of your tear-stained face and the devastation that set itself in place of your usual smile.

Dio didn’t know why, but he’d rather not see you in that condition again. Never.

The creaking floorboards announced your arrival. With a sweeping flourish, you switched the warming rag with a new one wrapped around ice and firmly pressed it to his cheek. Dio hissed, throwing you a venomous glare at the amused smirk on your face. You shrugged, the damning smirk remained, and only laughed when he ripped your hand off the rag to grasp it on his own.

“Stop acting like a child,” you tutted, mocking him as if he was the child in the situation. Heat crept up his neck and ears, skin flushing a slight red. Whether it was from embarrassment or indignation, he didn’t know. All he knew was the annoyance fluttering in his stomach and the twitch of his fingers, ready to smack your hand away should it be necessary. Another laugh came from you, and the fluttering feeling increased tenfold.

“We are children. Speak for yourself,” Dio snarled, but this only earned him another smile from you. The soft, small one that always resembled his mother’s.

He hated it, how you sorely reminded him of his mother, but why won’t he leave?

                         •:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

“Oh, aren’t you…”

Your wide eyes shifted into crescents, a smile gracing your lips, as you told Jonathan your name. The blue-haired aristocrat gently took your hand and kissed its knuckles, which caught you by surprise. The slight flush of your cheeks said it all. Dio could feel his eye twitch at the predicament unfolding in front of him.

Is this what it felt like when God has forsaken you? Not that Dio believed in the supernatural, but it best captured his feelings at the moment.

He coughed into his fist, diverting your attention away from his stepbrother, and asked as nonchalantly as he could, “I thought you’d be working in the dress shop today? You told me you couldn’t come to the rugby game.”

“Oh, w-well…” You trailed off, fiddling with your thumbs and looking away from the blond. You gnawed your bottom lip, a tic Dio associated with nerves, as your eyes flitted between him and Jonathan. Somehow, this irked him more than it should. Jonathan watched the scene in curiosity, only recognizing you from the time he had seen twelve-year-old Dio walk after you in the city once. The oblivious boy asked about you, and Dio immediately glared at him until he was cowed into silence. Dio was about to demand an answer—childish, really, but his patience was being tested—until you finally answered him.

“Mrs. Smith allowed me to leave early—” once she knew you were playing, was what you thought but chose not to divulge that information—“so here I am.”

Dio let out an amused huff, the swell of relief almost choking him, “Well, what did you think of the game then?”

You hummed, placing a hand on your cheek with a mock thoughtful expression. Dio subconsciously tapped his shoe on the grass as he awaited your response. The raucous beating of his heart dulled his senses the longer you mused, which wasn’t that long in all honesty. It only took a mere three seconds before you spoke.

“I think you and Jonathan were amazing. I would have never expected him to pass the ball to you, then you taking the winning score.”

Dio would have basked in your compliment, which was a rare occurrence unfortunately, if it weren’t for the fact that Jonathan was included in it. Regardless, he sported a triumphant grin and clapped you on the shoulder with a hearty laugh. Your eyes widened in surprise, but this had gone unnoticed by Jonathan, who knew nothing of your relationship with Dio, and the man himself. The confusion swarming your mind remained even when Jonathan bashfully grinned and expressed his gratitude.

“Oh! Well, thank you, but this victory is all because of Dio,” he told you. You sighed, knowing that would stroke Dio’s ego, but the latter felt his heart stutter at the sight of your smile. If he didn’t despise Jonathan and plotted to take the Joestar fortune for himself, then he would have been grateful to Jonathan at the moment. That was not the case, but he took the compliment in stride with a boastful grin.

Unfortunately, his heart dropped when you dismissed it with a wave. “Nonsense! You deserve the recognition as much as he does!”

It felt wrong seeing you smile at Jonathan; the one that always reminded him of his mother. His blood simmered under his skin as his jaw clenched, teeth painfully grinding together. His heart hammered in his chest; mind screaming and urging him to lead you away from the spoiled, ignorant Joestar. He didn’t like this: how you and Jonathan are in the same space and breathing the same air. He felt those ghostly fingers grip his throat and prick his skin, the phantom sensation of nails scratching the sensitive area. Yet, he kept the polite smile and the pretense that he’s friends with his stepbrother. Dio Brando will get everything he wants soon. He can’t afford to ruin his carefully sculpted plan all because of a girl.

You are not worth the repercussions.

                         •:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

“How many times has it been this week?” You smiled, but the disgust and spite associated with the expression disappeared in a sharp inhale from Dio.

Blood stained your dress, splattered over your skirt and apron, as your fingers clutched at the arm embedded in your torso. Drops of blood found their way to your boots, the worn leather speckled with scarlet dots. A cough sent a spurt of blood to dribble down the corner of your lips as a terrified cry of your name echoed in the hall. Jonathan—it was Jonathan’s voice, followed by the voices of his companions Dio didn’t even bother to acknowledge. The muted horror of what he had done registered in his mind, and the blond vampire immediately ripped his arm away from you. The force propelled your body forward, falling towards the stone floor of the castle, but an arm hooked itself around your waist.

“You bloody idiot,” Dio hissed, dropping to his knees from the momentum of capturing you. One of his hands cradled your head, fingers buried into your hair, while the other held your body flush against his chest. “You bloody fucking idiot.”

“How many times have you taken lives this week?” Your voice warbled, hints of melancholy in your teasing tone. Dio briefly barked orders for the zombies to attack Jonathan and his comrades before he returned his attention to you. His heart clenched, cracks starting to form at the unsightly hole in your stomach, but his rage at what you have done made his mouth run.

“Why?” One of his arms supported your back, gripping you closer in a futile attempt at clinging to your life. He had no warmth—no comfort to spare for your dying body. It was the first and only time Dio cursed the consequences of his immortality, but he couldn’t dwell on that now. Not when you, the girl he had known since childhood and the one he shared a strange bond with, were waning between the realm of life and death. You looked at him, and Dio’s rage grew at the soft smile still on your face. It spoke of promises and hope, the things Dio had forsaken ever since his mother died and his father began to further drive a stake into his future.

They were empty and meaningless, but not with you.

“Why?!” He demanded, visibly trembling at your silence. Dio didn’t need to elaborate. You knew what he wanted to know. He wanted to know why you jumped in front of Jonathan to take the hit. The light in your eyes began to dim, but you shakily placed a hand on his cheek. The same bruised cheek you had tended to before his father died and he had been adopted by the Joestars. The memory made Dio shudder and he moved to evade your touch, but you stubbornly clasped his cheek with the remaining strength your fragile, bleeding body had.

“Should there be a reason?” You rasped, chuckling a little. The gesture resulted in another harsh cough and more blood to spill from your mouth. The red coated your lips akin to the lipstick of those aristocrat beauties Dio observed during the parties George Joestar hosted. The color mocked him, taunting him for his dependence on the wretched substance. The vampire’s eyes widened, then narrowed into slits. The rage festering inside him threatened to break through his cool façade. He was about to snap at you for your foolish remark when your thumb ghosted over the skin under his eye.

"This is a first," you whispered, chest heaving and eyes flickering between dark and light. "I thought I'd never see the day you'd cry."

"Save your breath," Dio fumed, cursing once more for the obvious tremor in his voice. "Just save your strength. I can save you—just—"

"Silly boy," your smile grew as you looked into Dio's eyes, finding semblances of the bruised boy you had bumped into when you first met. "I wish you wouldn't look at me like that, or I might regret my decision."

Before Dio could say anything, scream at you for your audacity in your last moments, your lips brushed against his cheek. His breath hitched and his hold on you slackened the tiniest bit. He felt your lashes flutter over his pale skin, the receding warmth of your body, and the dainty caress of your hands on his cheeks. Faintly, in the back of his mind, he yearned for more. Dio yearned for more time with you—to relive the days when you two were nothing but gullible children in a world dominated by greed and power-hungry beasts lurking beneath beautiful masks.

The moment shattered when your body sagged against him; your head lolled to the side and unceremoniously bumped against his shoulder. The blood from your lips marred his skin, but he paid no mind to it. His hands scrambled to hold you—keep you close to him—as his breath came in short, panicked bursts. Dio didn't care if he looked like an idiot in front of his army. He didn't care if Jonathan and his parade of fools saw him in his moment of weakness.

He only cared about you.

He lifted a hand, shoulders shaking a bit, to take a look at your face. The soft smile you always adorned, one that lit your expression, now painted itself on your pallid complexion. Your eyes remained close, and you looked nothing but peaceful the moment you died in his arms. The blood on your clothes and the hole he created didn't deter nor ruin your blissful image. He hated it. He always hated that smile.

It was the same smile his mother gave him before she died.

The ghostly, spindly appendages found their way around his neck. They ruptured his skin and crushed his throat as the back of his eyes stung. A lone tear dripped down his cheek and landed on your own, devoid of the flush it once had when you were still alive. A silent, choked sob slipped past his lips and he brought you closer; his nails digging into your arm from how tight he gripped your corpse. He brought your face into the crook of his neck. Dio couldn't bring himself to look at you, knowing what you meant by your last words.

You wanted to die as a human. This thought made him curl his body over yours, shielding the ghastly sight of your corpse from the others, if only to provide him some sense of comfort that you didn't shun him. You never did, not when you saw him discard his humanity and not even when you decided to join Jonathan to search for him. Dio never understood why you'd follow him to the ends of the earth. He never understood why you didn't leave him when he chose to become immortal. He never found the answers to these questions. Although, he understood why he never left you—he saw himself in you, a girl abandoned by her family and scorned by society. Dio couldn't find it in himself to leave you; his pride prevented him from stooping to their level. There was another reason, but the crushing weight of this revelation only served to choke him in his guilt-ridden wrath.

He loves you.

#jojo #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo's bizarre adventure phantom blood #jjba #jjba part 1 #phantom blood #dio brando #dio #reader insert #dio x reader #angst all the way #enjoy your angst #there is no happy ending for this man #im sorry not sorry

[himbeaux-on-ice]

Hello! I was wondering if you could please explain to me what Robin Lehner said yesterday about vaccination and competitive edge? English isn't my 1st language and from what I gathered NHL and PA promised VGK that if they get vaccinated the restrictions on them will lessen and they can freely leave their houses. And when they players got vaccines, NHL changed their promise and said players can't do that until all of the teams across the league are evenly vaccinated (shitty move from NHL, 1/2

2/2 as always). But what did Robin mean talking about competitive edge? I rewatched the video 3 times and I still don't understand :( Did the league make it a competition between the teams? "The sooner you all get vaccinated, the sooner there'll be no resctions on you?" I hope, I'm not completely missing the point, sorry about that. Big respect for Robin for speaking up and calling out the league. I'm really happy seeing players speaking up for themselves and their teams

Hi anon! I’ve spoken about this already a bit here and here, in case you haven’t seen those yet and think they might answer some of your questions. But I’m happy to elaborate further! I hope I can clear this up for you.

First, just as a note: Right now it doesn’t seem to exactly be clear what the NHL and NHLPA did or didn’t promise players in terms of easing restrictions, but it seems like Lehner was definitely given the impression by somebody that a team getting fully or mostly vaccinated was the ticket to not being under such strict isolation. The NHL for their part seems to be claiming they promised no such thing, but it’s hard to know right now whether that’s just them covering ass, or if there was just a misunderstanding somewhere in which what they actually said was not fully clear to the players. [Elliotte Friedman voice] More news may be yet to come on this.

Right. So as far as “competitive edge” goes, I can definitely explain that. You’re only a little off the mark. What he means in this case is that the NHL is concerned that letting more fully vaccinated teams live under a less intensely restrictive set of internal rules (regarding things like dining together, exercising together, sitting next to each other on planes and busses, having more group off-ice social time, sharing hotel rooms, having in-person coaching meetings again, etc) will lead to that group having an on-ice advantage in their play over other teams who are less vaccinated and still have to live under full restrictions.

Because the NHL is intensely obsessed with “parity of sport” (trying to make the conditions of competition the same for all teams regardless of outside factors wherever possible), they always in as many situations as possible want to eliminate any potential leg up one team could have over others. This is why we have things like the salary cap, rules about scouting players, rules about how draft picks are distributed that try to make sure struggling teams have a chance to draft well, rules against signing your best players for 20-year contracts so nobody else can have them, etc.

In general theory, being parity-oriented is good! It aims to make sure that the success of teams on the ice and in the standings is determined by the hockey play/skill alone as much as possible, not by franchise wealth or other things they did to get an unfair jump on the competition. And that should make the games more fun and less boring/predictable in most cases! As far as sports leagues go, the NHL has pretty good parity of play overall — there are only a few REALLY good teams and only a few REALLY bad ones, and everybody else performs within a pretty similar range most years. This is why back-to-back Cup wins are so rare in the current era, because due to all the rules to enforce parity there are relatively few teams that are THAT dominant over the competition for a long stretch of multiple seasons in a row, and the odds of any given team winning each year are much more similar. (As compared to like that period in the late 70’s when it was like “who won the Cup? oh surprise surprise it’s the Habs AGAIN 🙄” lol).

However, sometimes the NHL gets unrealistic in its pursuit of making sure everything is exactly the same for all teams. We’ve seen it already this season with the stubborn insistence on making sure the Canucks play a full 56 game season like everybody else, regardless of whether it is safe or reasonable to do so in the time they have left.

This time, the fixation on parity seems to be rearing its head in the form of the League insisting that even if a team has most or all of their players and staff vaccinated, they still have to maintain the same intense restrictions within team spaces as other teams which may be WAY further behind in getting everyone vaccinated, rather than getting to benefit from the lowered risk that being thoroughly vaccinated brings within a closed group like that. And they seem to be insisting on this not because it would be unsafe to change things for vaccinated teams, but rather because of concern that doing so might make that team perform better as a hockey team.

That’s the key part here: The NHL seems to consider getting to (safely) return to a mode of team life that is somewhat more similar to what these guys have been habitually used to pre-pandemic, to be something that could translate into an unfair on-ice advantage in the quality of their play, over other teams who are still doing it all “the hard way” under strict restrictions because they haven’t been vaccinated yet. And because of trying for parity, they want avoid giving teams that “advantage” by basing restriction changes around each team’s individual situation, and instead plan to ease restrictions for all teams at the same time at some point once all teams are similar levels of vaccinated.

Now, US teams seem to be getting vaccinated faster and faster every day, but Canadian teams probably have not started vaccinating their players or any team employees under age 50 at all yet, because Canada’s vaccination process has been painfully slow. So waiting on them to catch up could leave US teams who are already mostly/fully vaccinated still stuck in those restrictive mentally draining conditions for quite some time before the other teams catch up — again, not because it isn’t COVID safe to ease their restrictions if done properly (that doesn’t seem to be a problem), but because the League sees the improvements to their mental state and team morale/cohesion that would come from living a less restricted life together and getting to return to familiar off-ice hockey routines as gaining a “competitive edge” over unvaccinated teams, which would lead to them playing better hockey to a level that can’t be matched as a result.

Which, Lehner is right, is a pretty fucked up way to look at it! “It’s an unfair advantage for you to not be miserably alone and depressed by that and frustrated and doing everything with 16 extra steps you’re still not used to, it’s an unfair advantage to get to actually act like a team off the ice when playing a team sport, so no, we’re not gonna let you eat lunch together or share hotel rooms or whatever” is not exactly a compassionate argument!

Anon I’m also really glad Robin said something about it, and I was glad to see VGK captain Mark Stone put full and vocal team support behind him when asked about it last night on the broadcast too. The mental price of these intense restrictions is something that has been weighing on my mind ever since I first heard they would have to spend all their time on the road locked in hotel rooms alone when not playing and thought “oh god, five months of that is going to be psychologically devastating”. It’s a relief to hear it acknowledged.

I’m not fully sure what the best solution is here, but that mental wellbeing factor absolutely must be discussed in all decisions. It would be fucked up if the League is treating that as something purely technical to be controlled like the salary cap, rather than as a key determinant of health and life (in the short and long term) that is just as important as COVID safety. The old hockey culture of “just suck it up” cannot cut it anymore.

Aside: I think it’s also worth mentioning while we’re here, that I think I do understand why players may be angry about have been talked into getting the vaccine because they thought it would lead to eased personal restrictions, and why I don’t believe that anger necessarily represents an “anti-vaxx” mindset. There are reasons they may not have planned on getting vaccinated just yet which aren’t necessarily “anti-vaxx” cult thinking (though that doesn’t mean they’re smart reasons lol) and would likely seem reasonable to players in-context. I’m gonna put that under a cut though bc this is already really long!

First, there’s the fact that we don’t know what medical conditions some players may or may not have which could make them hesitant to get some of the vaccines out of an abundance of caution. More prominently you also gotta remember, these guys are athletes currently competing their way through an extremely intense and extremely important part of the season as they try to secure playoff spots, playing sometimes as many as 4 games a week. Looking at it that way, it’s understandable why some of them would be hesitant about getting a shot at this particular time which we all know is going to whammy you with a nasty little bout of mild-moderate side effects that hit you like a bad cold for as much as a week. They probably don’t feel they can afford to be laid up with muscle aches, sinus suffering, fatigue, and all the other little fun (and eventually harmless in the end!) things that your body runs through while activating that initial immune response — because in the couple of days that it throws them off for, their team could play 3 or more REALLY important playoff-clinching games, which they could end up underperforming in or having to sit out.

If that is the situation you’re in, and you already feel like the current League restrictions are doing enough to protect you, you can see why you would say “I think I’ll wait and get it during the offseason/during the week break between regular season and playoffs, and just suck it up for these last few weeks dealing with the same ol lonely isolation restrictions I’ve already gotten used to dealing with all season long, rather than be hit with that curveball of possible temporary vaccine side-effects during this time when I need to give it my all every game.” That may sound like a selfish mindset, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that is how at least some of these athletes are approaching it, especially ones who may be single guys without families at home to worry about protecting. (Lehner, for the record, has a wife and two young kids).

BUT, if the League told you (or it sounded like the League told you) “Hey, if enough of your team gets vaccinated quickly, we’ll be able to lift some of the internal restrictions for you guys and let you like hang out and do stuff together within the team again”, and if you were REALLY struggling with the mental stress of that isolated living style, you might weigh the two options against each other and say “Okay, I’m willing to power through a week of potential side-effects and get vaccinated with the fellas if it means I won’t have to be so goddamn miserable and depressed every day.” and then you get the shot(s).

And if you did that, and THEN the League said “lol no, even though your team is fully immunized you still have to sit in your room alone every night and eat by yourself and not leave your house, because it’s not fair to other teams if you guys are no longer mentally miserable like them”, well now you find yourself in the worst of both worlds — still stuck in isolation, AND you’ve still got to play through all the potential vaccine side-effects that will leave you a little off your game during some of the most crucial games of the year.

Plus, that leaves you not feeling like you got to give informed consent — you agreed to get vaccinated (ie undergo a medical treatment) under the expectation that there would be certain rewards to be gained in terms of relief for your mental health, which made you decide it was worth the potential dent in your performance for a few games and any other worries you had about the vaccine, because the prospect of that relief was so worth it. And now, you are told by the League “that payoff you expected never existed, we never promised that, what are you talking about? we can’t change things for your mental health because that might make you better at hockey than the depressed unvaccinated teams”. I can understand how that turn of events could leave someone, as Robin expressed, feeling like they were “tricked” or “forced” into making a choice that they may have done differently otherwise. They felt that they were promised something in return that they didn’t get.

Note at the end of all this: Again, we still don’t know whether the NHL and NHLPA actually made any promises, or if they simply weren’t clear enough in communicating expectations to teams and the players misunderstood what was said to mean something else. Regardless, using the idea that being freed from having to be miserably isolated to an even greater degree than most of the US general public is an “unfair competitive advantage” to now justify not allowing reasonable adjustments to the restrictions for fully vaccinated teams is fucked up, and treats mental wellbeing as just another gameplay-impacting factor to be controlled rather than a deeply impactful part of a person’s overall wellbeing which can even threaten their life. The players must be treated as people.

#long post #asks #anon #robin lehner #vegas golden knights #covid 19 #nhl #hockey

[frightfurtabby]

HimiKiyo Week 2021 Day 3- The Streets are Long-Ass Gutters

Day 3! Time for a Cyberpunk AU. What is vice and what is virtue in a dystopian future where so many have turned to crime to survive in corrupt corporate states?

I forget if I mentioned this in the last post but all the amino crosspost links will be collected and posted at the end of the week on here. 

Word Count: 3,061

Content: Lots of murder, alcohol reference

Links-

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34139533

People were suffering, toiling away at shitty jobs for next to no pay, exploited by the powerful megacorporations. Back in the past it was only nations or gangs that went to war against each other, or against themselves. The trend now for the last 100 years was corporations fighting actual bloody wars against each other instead. Sending out all the low level grunts who they had no use for anymore to die. The worst, darkest parts of humanity were on full display every day whether it was something that made the news or not.

Still, technology progressed even when it seemed everything else had regressed into feudalism. Death and Life became ever more complex as people started being able to be downloaded and uploaded like AI with most if not all memories intact. So what truly counted as being dead now? Stuff that could have killed you before could be better dealt with enough credits to pay someone under the table.

In this backdrop is where Korekiyo grew up their whole life, initially being insulated from much of it. That all changed when they didn’t have my parents protection any more. One of them found it a ��step too far” to put the chip with what remained of Sister’s brain in themself. Among other traditionalist qualms about how they dressed and wanted to modify about themself, such as the metal arm and enhanced nervous system. It wasn’t surprising, given how they reacted to people like them any time the topic was in the news.

So for the next few years they were travelling, studying how various people were dealing with their own conditions with a school anthropology department. And yet they weren’t allowed to publish some findings because the “education” megacorp that ran the colleges blocked it.

After becoming fed up with the state of things Kiyo quit and joined a gang, getting to delve in and know more about the so-called Underworld and its inhabitants. People from all walks of life ended up around them: drifters, ex-corpos, sex workers, mercenaries, people who were all of the above and then some. Almost none of it was surprising.

And just a couple weeks ago there was an incident that changed their trajectory again, though it seemed like it was just another in a long line of similar incidents..

A group of Yakuza, emboldened in their power by even more corporate money laundering, at the behest of a giant media conglomerate attacked the headquarters of a rival channel. They overheard that performers were one the upper floors which included one of the showrunners' nieces, this pulled Kiyo in to follow the hit squad. Spread throughout the floors were average people who hadn’t done anything wrong and not all of them were going to be saved.

They met Himiko Yumeno and saved her life because of being in the right place at the right time. As though it were destiny.

She was  holed up in a locked room and caught a glimpse of a metal arm holding a steady gun and assumed it was one of the attackers, taking Kiyo down suddenly as they searched for people to help. It took a few moments of pleading to clear up the misunderstanding on their part and help her open up an emergency door for the rest of the show’s cast. It was here they were properly introduced to each other.

“I’m so sorry about that. You can never be too careful.” she said. “So if you’re not with them are you, you don’t look like building security? A cop?”

Kiyo shook their head, they weren’t sure if they could tell her what they really were just yet. Mainly because it wasn’t that much different from what the guys currently murdering a bunch of her co-workers were. “We can talk about that later. I’m not the police either, but they’re coming so we should get out before they come in and we get caught in the crossfire.”

“Fair point.”

Himiko followed behind on the way down the steps and both listened to the shots still ringing out. Some were coming from inside the building but it sounded like the police had rolled up on the front side and were now trading fire in between pleas on their radio to stop the attack.

The streets were going to be blocked off for a pretty wide area, and it had already started. So the two weaved through a back alleyway a few blocks back and found a car left unattended by one of the gang squads.

“I’ll hotwire this, get in.” Kiyo placed a hand on the door and scanned the lock requirements and transformed a finger into just the right shape of key to unlock it. She was sighing in relief, tired of running or being on edge already. Even though it couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes since the start of the raid it felt like every moment stretched on for hours.

Kiyo tapped the driver's side glass to run a check and found it to be bulletproof. They weren’t sure if the passenger’s side was equally protected, but the front pane definitely was knowing how important getaway driver’s were considered.

The car started up and Kiyo shot out of the alley fast enough to send a can of trash flying up, and swerved out onto the road. The blockade wasn’t out this far yet, there was probably a shortage of them on the force again. This even had a police scanner in it, to track them. With just a little bit of a tweak it could also send signals out. They considered for a moment if it was worth it. They didn’t think any good would come of anyone following potentially.

So instead they start using their cyborg arm to start fiddling and turn off tracking and both the dash cam on the front and any bio-scanners inside that would prove they had commandeered this vehicle. It was breaking several laws, yes, but it was saving a life. Nothing they weren’t already used to.

Another car sped up to get right behind them. It was the same kind of model, so definitely one of the attackers. Possibly saw the theft or came when it stopped giving a signal. Either way they were now being followed. And when one followed there was likely going to be more. Either by the police who may think they were involved or by crooks mad their car was taken.

They passed the gun to her. “Here, use this should it come to that.”

Traffic picked up further away from the scene they got so it was harder to weave through quick enough until they hit the freeway. Too many witnesses were made to even properly count. And the brief slow down allowed the other vehicle to graze their side, causing Kiyo to need to swerve and almost over-correct around the next corner.

Their company got even and then picked up speed to pull a little bit ahead, the back window rolled down like their passenger side. A man inside was shouting and going for a weapon on his belt, his words drowned out by the speed of air caused by the race, and he wouldn’t get to finish because Himiko fired twice, sending him backwards into his seat and out of sight.

Kiyo sped up again, hearing a cacophony of honks from civilian vehicles upset at being forced to pull to the shoulder. The enemy driver steadied and muttered a prayer before grinding against the passenger side and attempted his own shot only for the third bullet from Himiko embed itself into the arm he was aiming with, causing it to miss and puncture the ceiling of the stolen vehicle.

Himiko’s adrenaline was pumping. Someone was already dead or going to be soon at her hands. Even if it was defensive, the very thought terrified her.

And yet the driver didn’t give up. He grabbed it with his other hand and drove with the forearm of his injured side to go and ram them again. This time another car got between them as Kiyo veered to create distance and avoid rear-ending the unfortunate motorist.

“Listen, please fire again the next time you see him.” Kiyo asked.

She was shaking, and nodded. There wasn’t much to say. It was what had to be done.

The back seat was hit several times, even shattering the windows, before Himiko had a good shot a throwing knife whizzed into her and the sharp edge cut one of her hands. And her return volley hit the door of the driver, who was reloading. In just a few more seconds he would have bullets with her name on them. That knife was to buy him time.

So she used the last shot, shaking off the pain momentarily, and due to how he was hunched over the bullet entered his jaw and he crashed into the wall as he spasmed and convulsed.

Leaving only their car speeding away… for now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Surprisingly, nobody else came. A trip to the outer limits of the city got them away. Kiyo parked in a back alley lot and immediately went and cracked open the trunk. As expected, there were more weapons and some medical supplies for those who were hurt on the job.

She sat down on a milk crate, wincing. “God, this hurts so bad.” She held her opposite hand around her cut to prevent herself from bleeding everywhere as Kiyo brought over the med kit. Blood from her wound was already covering her skirt and leggings.

“That was a close call, I’m glad you’re a surprisingly good shot.” Kiyo said, taking some time to clean and disinfect her first.

“Surprisingly? What’s that supposed to mean?” she huffed at the tall stranger. People were always thinking she was some pushover because she was short and looked young.

Kiyo let the blood soak some before checking how deep the wound was. Thankfully, it wasn’t anything too serious. Wrapping it in some gauze did the trick.

“I don’t mean to offend, but I’ve not seen you fire anything before. How was I supposed to know at that moment?”

“I…” Himiko sighed “I guess you’re right. Thanks by the way. You saved my life.”

“We’re… not entirely out of the clear just yet.” Kiyo said as they got up and dumped the license plate into the alley’s dumpster, quickly covering it with more trash that was littered about, they’d stolen it from the car. It was a bit old fashioned but it would be another piece of evidence that could connect the car to the scene they’d just escaped. Any conclusive proof the gang or cops could find should be destroyed.

“When will we be in the clear?” the girl asked,

She watched her new companion pouring oil from a drum onto the vehicle. And motion her to get back. She took the pack with the rest of the useful medical supplies and Kiyo removed the case of weaponry and looked it over.

“Only when we get to my place. You should probably stay a few days so the hunt dies down… maybe I could put you with a friend in the same-”

“I’m sure your friends are good and all but… I don’t know them yet, I want to stay with you if I gotta pick.”

Kiyo nodded in understanding. “Well then, we’re about.” The tall one did some mental math, checking in quickly with the chip in their head that sped that process up. “35 miles northeast of the complex I live in.”

“And your ride is on the way?”

Kiyo nodded in the affirmative “Indeed. It won’t be very much longer now in fact. It’ll be a couple more blocks up so we’re out of the way when… this goes off.” Then they flicked a match onto the end of the line of oil and rushed with her away.

The way back to the apartment was tense and paranoid. Kiyo put on the online radio to keep track of the news about the situation, switching stations occasionally if they switched coverage to something else or there was nothing new. Chatter online indicated about half the building’s occupants went down with at least injuries. The exact death toll wouldn’t be out until everything had been secured.

“Should I call and tell people I’m okay? I… don’t exactly want to show up as missing on the national news.” Himiko said, shifting nervously in her chair.

“Yes, you can tell someone you trust.” It would look bad if they let their paranoia convince them not to allow her to. Seeming like a kidnapper would just bring unwanted attention. Their associates would be mad and sister told them she didn’t exactly want to spend her time sticking around to just be spent behind bars.

One press and it went to her contact. “I’m okay, I got out. I’ll be in hiding for now. I’m with another friend.”  She had to keep it short on the low battery, unfortunately. Even with being weary of this person still, she thought better of revealing anything more.

She hung up with a farewell after a few more seconds and turned it back off, complaining to the only other who was around to listen. “Of all the days for me to leave the charger at home. Angie even reminded me not to do that.”

“Angie? That’s not a name you hear much in Japan.”

“It’s not, she’s actually from one of those islands out in the pacific. Used to be an American colony before well…”

Kiyo nodded. The United States of America had long since broken up due in part to the corporate wars and there really wasn’t any recognized entity that was still calling itself that. So all the non-mainland territories broke away. Many still are under the boot of large companies whether they were locally built or arrived from overseas since the islands were so rich in natural resources that couldn’t be found in many other places.

The conversation branched out from there, keeping both of their minds occupied with something other than the dread of having even more of those guys after them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

During the apartment tour Kiyo showed Himiko around. The kitchenette, which was stocked with microwave instant noodles and burritos, featured a ton of soda and alcohol in the small fridge. All of it was cheap and/or synthetic stuff, clearly Shinguji wasn’t someone living in the lap of luxury.

Then there was the main room. It was in the center, the kitchenette was a small area to the left side. It had tile instead of carpet denoting the otherwise almost nonexistent boundary. There were very few doors: one leading outward to the balcony, one leading to the lone bedroom, and a third leading to the lone bathroom.

“Would you like to sleep out here? It’s generally pretty safe…”

“You look like you’re about to hit me with a huge ‘but’”

“Last month someone tried to break in. They were high off something and thought this was their unit. And rumor has it someone’s found ways to pick locks around here. Mine are up to date enough but you know how it is with malware.”

“Then I’ll sleep uh, in your room. If that’s okay.”

Kiyo agreed, showing her the large bed. It could easily fit both of them even though the majority of the time nobody but Kiyo was using it. There was a wardrobe and a work desk. The work desk held all of their weapons and tech. Many tools were used to keep everything working.

“And yes before you ask, I am too poor to afford all of this. A lot of it is stolen.” Kiyo explained. “Often from people who met an unfortunate fate like our attackers earlier.” Kiyo added the new goods to the collection by putting it on top of the desk.

Thankfully the blinds were always shut on this room. Kiyo had boarded it up and sealed the heat in that way because every so often in places as rundown as this you’d get a window shot out for no real reason other than some assholes felt like it.  

A few hours later they had crawled in and tried to rest. At some point somebody must have wanted more warmth because upon waking up the next morning Kiyo noticed they were now huddling together, arms around the other. It would be a delicate thing to get out of the embrace without waking her up too.

They hesitated. They didn’t have any urgent jobs at this hour, all of those were planned specifically to be later. So was it really wrong to stay put and just see how she’s doing? It was a rough day yesterday after all.

Even with the window boarded up small cracks of light fluttered through. A small reminder the outside still had beauty in it.

Himiko woke up moments later, finding herself curled up to Kiyo and realizing she’d been the one to start being so close. An impulsive thought she wasn’t awake enough to second guess herself. It was odd, how they seemed to be more awake but didn’t leave her.

They sat up and said “Good morning. Sleep well?”

She followed suit and rubbed the gunk out of her eyes. “Yeah. I… hope waking up like that didn’t bother you. I-”

“It doesn’t”

She was ready to profusely apologize so hearing that took a moment to process. “Huh?”

“It was quite nice. It’s been a while since I’ve felt anything as warm as that.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Should I be?”

“Well… no, and I kinda liked it too.” she said shyly, turning to sit down on the edge of the bed, putting some distance between them. “You doing anything today?”

Kiyo consulted their chip again. “No work today, we’ll be hanging out with some people from my crew this afternoon.”

“I look forward to it. I needed a bit of a vacation its just…” she sighed.

“How it happened wasn’t desirable?”

Himiko laughed. “That’s an understatement. It actually sucks so much.” crying broke through and took over. It took almost half a day for what happened to even really sink in. “Everything sucks so fucking much.”

Kiyo offered some tissue from the bedside drawer and Himiko took it, thanking them.

#himikiyo #himikiyo week #himiko yumeno #korekiyo shinguji #writing #fanfic #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #cyberpunk

[aly-kurta]

I wanted to do this since a long time .... I'll upload infos about my HxH oc!

Friendly reminder that I'll lovely accept advices and constructive criticism! Just do not spread random hate. <3 Creating characters should be fun, not something people should insult each other for!

CW: mentions of violence and family loss.

Imagine having a serious oc but the only decent drawing you have is one where they are embarassed.

Okay, let's start this.

BIOLOGICAL INFO

Name: Lewis

Meaning of name: "Illustrious warrior"

Gender: Female

Age: 18 years old

Date of Birth: 27th January (Aquarius vibes biatch)

Place of Birth: Lukso, Kurta clan (don't worry there's a reason for her survival)

Height: 1,57 cm

Weight: 51 kg

Blood type: 0-

Hair: wavy and dark brown. Shorter behind and longer on the sides.

Eyes: brown. her eye shape is sharp, giving her almost all the time a judging and serious look.

Skin: pale, there are a few white scars on her body due some fights.

Body: thanks to the training her father made her pass throught in order to be capable to protect herself, Lewis has an athletic and kind of muscular body. Sometimes it's difficult for her to keep up fighting and training due an illness concerning her legs' bones.

OCCUPATION + PERSONALITY + CLOTHES

Occupation: Blacklist hunter. She's willing to accept assignments from wealthy families (for example, Nostrade's family), but the quest, in order to be accepted, can not surpass boundaries set up by Lewis herself.

Personality: at first glance, Lewis can come off as a sarcastic but overall serious and cold brat. Due her being cautious, random friends and chit chats are a big "no", she will low her standars if the she finds someone intersting and cultured. In fact, for her, culture and intelligence count more than everything else. Her realistic, harsh irony and coldness may soften if someone forms a strong bond with her (but if you think they will be safe from her scarcasm, oh boy, you're so wrong). Slowly, her enthusiastic and curious side will come off. Small warning: joke about her height and you'll get lovely beaten up.

Likes: books, learning, smart people, cats, traveling, fighting.

Hates: ignorant people, loud noises, seeing children and innocent people suffer, killing without any particular reason.

Clothes: total black style, so it's easier for her to not be seen in the dark and during the night. She wears a sleeveless jumper, with shorts and high boots. She also wears her father's gloves in his memory and a neckacle with a blue pendant in hyaline quartz.

NEN AND FIGHTING SKILLS

Nen type: transmuter. Her hatsu consists in transmuting her aura in heat, elevating the temperature until the creation of flames ( red flames are the "weakest", the strongest one are blue -purple flames, said to reach 1400 degrees on the Celsius scale). In order to protect herself from the flames, she wraps a little bit of aura around herself, but sometimes her skin gets burnt from her hatsu, thats why she counts more on a "speed" strategy more than a "strenght" one.

When her scarlet eyes are active, she become a Specialist (I deduced every Kurta does and not just Kurapika, since the scarlet eyes are a really particular thing, what do you guys think?). When in this state, her flames and explosione created by them are way more intense and her aura gets wider. But obviously she has an harsh condition: in order to use it she has to use her own body as fuel (so that's why she has to eat regularly, not allowed to be weak).

When the scarlet eyes aren't active, her nen uses her energy and, when in En, external resources in an area of 9 meters as fuel (so if you feel yourself or the air around you becoming cold, you better keep constant distance from her).

Fighting style (hand-to-hand): her father trained her to muay thai.

TRIVIA

Her father taught her how to play the violin, but she does it rarely due painful memories;

She admires Gon's desire to meet his father because she understand that feeling, she would do anything to meet her mother or remember more and more about her;

She is inspired to Lewis Carroll, the writer of "Alice in Wonderland". Why? Originally she was a BSD and Carroll is my favourite writer together with Tolkien;

She often scolds Kurapika because he is careless about himself;

Lewis has met Hisoka before. She was in search for money and ended up fighting with him.

Why did I make her a Kurta? Six years ago, when I created her (and I didn't watch HxH) I added this thing about her eyes having a red hue when angry due her ability. Then I watched HxH and was like "wtf Lewis";

The meaning behind the name "Lewis" helped me defining her personality;

I lowkey ship her with Kurapika because of their personalities becoming even more complex when together. Their story is a whole mess because they believe that by becoming a couple, they'd just destroy each other.

BACKSTORY

Lewis was born in Lukso, along with her beloved twin brother. Her family was watched with doubt and oddity by the other members of her clan due both her parents being Hunters.

Her mother, a Virus Hunter, passed away when Lewis and her brother were five years old, so their father, a Blacklist Hunter, took the responsibility to teach them about self-defense, the outside world and to always have a goal in life. So the twins grew up knowing how to fight and the desire of making their life complete.

After her 13th birthday, Lewis decided to take the Hunter Exam (because she wanted it? Well yes, but she also aimed at making her father proud). Succeding the exam to exit the clan and greeting her people, she started her journey to get her Hunter License.

Once she got the license, after a long road, Lewis was ready to return to her forest with pride and victorious and show her clan what she was worth. So you can imagine how she felt when during her return trip she heard about the slaughter of the "demonic Kurta clan".

So pained that she couldn't even manage to return to her home, Lewis strayed for two years and half on the streets, living off the duties of a Blacklist Hunter, and then affording a decent house in Yorknew city.

What do I do now, she asked herself. Her desire to make the Troupe pay for their genocide marched together with her will to follow her father and her brother's desire: help the weake, live life to the fullest and become the best version of your soul.

That's how Lewis lives, the grief and rage battling against the desire to go on and live for herself. What will win this fight?

YORKNEW ARK

So time passes on and Lewis decides to try and get the eyes of her clan that will be exposed to the Auction.

How can she achieve this little goal? Of course she had money, but not that much to afford her purchase.

That's how she ended up meeting two little boys who came there for a videogame called "Greed Island" and a man. Their names were Killua, Gon and Leorio.

Lewis' first plan was just to do something similar to a business contract, you help me and I help you. But her planning mind didn't take in consideration the fact that this move would have changed her life.

When she told the three boys what she wanted to buy at the Auction, the group immediatly looked at each other, asking her what she found amusing about a pair of eyes took away from some innocent person.

"Let's call it... personal interest" she answered. Her vague response ringed a bell on Killua's mind, making him thinking she was a member of the infamous Phantom Troupe.

Gon, Killua and Leorio immediatly came up with a plan to make that misterious girl confess her identity and show them her spider tatoo. The plan was perfect and the three of them, after a week, cornered Lewis, ready to attack.

Little did they know about her being sligthly annoyed by this "betrayal".

Leorio's jaw almost dropped to the floor when Lewis' scarlet eyes came out instinctively. The kurta quickly hid her face but it was too late.

Gon was confused because... how did she survive the massacre?

Killua meditated if it was the case to rush and call Kurapika. Or was it a trick to prove false innocence?

With lots of sighs and sarcastic jokes like "yeah I'm the boss of that shitty Troupe, wanna come at our Christmas dinner this year?", the girls sat down and waited for that Kurapika everyone was talking about. It would have been better to kill the three boys and escape but she couldn't push herself to see life escaping Gon and Killua's eyes. They were kids and they didn't hurt her in any way yet... and the way their eyes shone, specially Gon's ones.

And so, she waited until a blonde boy stormed into the room in a rush.

What was even happening? Who was he? These question made her head fuzzy from all the thinking.

"You have scarlet eyes, don't you?" the boy approached her.

"And what if I do?" Lewis coldly looked at Kurapika.

Gon pointed out at Killua how the temperature lowered in the room.

"Show me your eyes" Kurapika said with a commanding tone.

"Don't play with fire, boy, or you'll get burnt"

Leorio interrupted the two of them: "he's a Kurta too don't worry!"

Kurapika scolded Leorio with an angry look just before realizing what he meant.

"Another... survivor?" he looked at Lewis "no it isn't possible..."

The two of them were shocked and couldn't even process the deed. They weren't alone?

"Let me use the Dowsing Chain on her, so I can state that it's the truth and not a mischevious trick.

Still shocked and confused, all of them made sure about the truth: Lewis was in fact a Kurta.

How will this twisted story reach its end? Lewis will decide to help Kurapika retrieve their clan's eyes. Will their opposite lifestyles and dreams go well together? Will Lewis succed to reach the "better version of her soul" and help Kurapika do so? Or maybe they'll both drown in the abyss of loneliness and self sacrifice?

#hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #anime #hisoka #feitan #genei ryodan #gon freecss #killua zoldyck #manga #shalnark #hunter x hunter icons #hunter x hunter oc #hxh oc #incorrect hxh quotes #kurapika kurta icons #kurapikakurta #ocappreciation #original character #hxh icons #the phantom troupe #phantom troupe #hxh feitan #feitan portor

[albatris]

What was the curse subplot you had going on last year?????

mm ok so the short answer is I have schizotypal personality disorder which inherently makes me more susceptible to curses and psychic damage, you can look this up, it's on my character sheet

uhhhh

I'm not opposed to talking about the curse story but I cannot emphasise enough that the curse story is not as zany as it sounds when I mention it nonchalantly

I feel like any casual mentions of "hey there was that one time I got cursed" sound like they should be the setup to a wacky story involving shenanigans and this will not be that. this story is dead serious and kind of a complete mood killer involving car accidents and psychosis

which I feel like is not what you wanted but is also not something I'm going to Not talk about

is there a point to this story? idk lmao

in summary:

towards the end of last year (my delivery driver days) my workplace environment got real bad real fast due to a change in management n I was suddenly under a LOT more pressure n stress

n I'd had a few near misses in terms of accidents and some small dents from minor scrapes and bumps (none of which were my fault, adelaide drivers r just bastards who don't look where they're going), n this was already getting all up in my paranoid brain, then things hit their thrilling peak with my car getting smashed by a van while I was inside it, which brought me to grips with my own mortality in a very unpleasant way

at the time I was also convinced there was a secret ocean under the ground in nuriootpa and this was somehow a whole unrelated thing. listen man I had a lot going on

stress spiked, paranoia spiked, lost a fair chunk of insight, became convinced these incidents were because someone had placed a curse on me and that if I stayed on the roads it would eventually culminate in me being killed, thought other drivers were communicating with each other about me and signalling to each other, thought the company was probably in on it, blah blah

this was the result of, yeah, just a buildup of months and months extremely intense stress and pressure and shitty working conditions

n like. from the outside I can be like.......... yeah dude, you were on the roads 8 hours a day, statistically speaking your chances of near misses and accidents skyrocketed simply because You Were There. it's just bad luck dude. drivers are shitty. and you're around them a fuckload more than other people are. n logically I acknowledged that at the time but in addition to logic I was filled with Vibes and Fear and Psychosis, all of which were gripping me by the shoulders and yelling "you're cursed and you're gonna fucking die!!!!!!!!!"

plus there were a lot of other Signs, n these were of course completely meaningless and coincidental, these were just total nonsense that my brain attached connections and meaning to, seeing all these unrelated connections, schizotypal is a hell of a lens

just wears a dude down, y'know

I went back to work for a few more weeks after my car got obliterated by the van but the new car I got to replace it had a tonne of mechanical issues and I eventually was just like "all of this is just so much, I am going to resign now" and then I did

so it all felt like this whole big Thing, made it all seem much scarier and more menacing than it was

anyway that's literally the curse story

the moral of the curse story is: oh, life is just like that sometimes, it's nothing to beat yourself up over

the point of the curse story is man I wish I had a more fun curse story????

#car accident tw #paranoia tw #hey. hey wizards. I'll let u curse me IF you promise to make it spicy and weird and something that'll give me a good story #vehicular curses...... where's the drama. where's the pizzazz. where's your theatric flair #coward #also i have to emphasise that i use the term ''subplot'' bc it did take a backseat in my life somehow #like #it was a LOT #but I'd also just be kinda going about my life. seeing friends. volunteering. just vibin #no one knew anything was up #like they knew I was Stressed but I obviously didn't want to like...... TALK about it at the time #n it was a subplot it was like...... oh yeah‚ and I'm cursed

[emberkyrlee]

Went to traffic court this morning. I was the first person called up, and they only had one clerk on duty, so then I had to wait out in the lobby until they were done with everyone else in order to pay the fine.

It was the first time I can remember being in an active courtroom since I was seven. (In which I had to be a witness against an abuser.) It was mostly empty, thankfully. So it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. But I still got hit with an overwhelming SOMETHING when I got out into the lobby.

I left the house early, cause I knew I was gonna get lost on the way there. And I was right. I totally did. Yes, partially due to my godawful sense of direction/inability to read maps, but also the fault of my shitty ass phone map app, and the city’s TERRIBLE upkeep of the roads. The roads themselves are in shit condition, the lanes are long overdue to be repainted, and the signage is ridiculously bad. Others have confirmed that its not just me. It IS a shitty place to drive, I just have additional obstacles because of my frustrating brain.

Then I went a block away to deal with the car title. Again. Where I was headed to when I got into a collision in the first place. (And turned out to be in vain) Finally succeeded this time. Annoyingly, after the fuss they threw about one of the papers TWICE, I brought it in properly this time, and they didn’t even ask me to sign it. I...I have no idea. But I now have new license plates. So finally, success.

Hopefully I won’t have to drive in that part of town again any time soon.

[vendettacanons]

Kekipi @ Vaas for the opinion meme > w >

⚔️ Muse Opinion Meme // CLOSED ⚔️

“Oh fuck, I gotta answer questions? The fuck is this, some sort of interrogation?”

“Most admirable quality: Most admirable quality? For wolfy over here? Shit, you’re asking the wrong person. I don’ fuckin’ know uhhh— oh wait, yes I do. She’s fuckin’ crazy man! She looks at me and she doesn’t even fucking flinch! I get all kinds of pricks on my island. They see me come up to their pretty little bamboo cages on the beach and they’re pissing their pants going’ ‘Vaas! Vaas! Please don’t hurt me! I give you money, I have a family’— like that fuckin’ matters to me. Things go wrong and after five minutes their turning into a bunch of pussies. But her? No nononononono not her. She took one look at me and you could see it— you could see it right?— she looked ready to rip my head off and escape out of spite. And then she did. Not the ‘rip my head off part’ obviously, but she did get away. Had me running all over my own damn island looking for her. She was smart— she has spirit. That’s admirable. Annoying as FUCK. But hey, I gotta respect the cojones on her and give credit where it’s due.”

“Most attractive physical feature: Shit man, she barely gives me enough time to look at her before she’s leading me on some other shitty goose chase. I only get a glance at her— fucking annoying because it’s like— it’s like— Hoyt? You know, my boss— he wants her back in one piece. Top quality, good condition— how the fuck am I supposed to make sure she’s in good condition if she never stays still long enough for me to fucking see her? Can’t even make my own damn judgements about whether or not she’s worth keeping. But hey— I’m not getting paid to ask questions or judge. I’m getting paid to protect the product. I guess like... like her hair... she’s got those... those, you know... dreads with the little ringy things in them. I like em. They look real nice on her, probably smell good— I don’t fucking know man. You think I get close enough to actually smell her? Nah. All I know from my quick little looks is that they look pretty.”

“Most annoying habit: Her little Forrest Gump act is getting old. You know how fucking annoying it is to be on one side of island and hear she’s on the other side? You get in your Jeep— haha, beep beep— you go through, shoot a couple of stupid motherfuckers in the road just to get to her, you get there, AND SHE ISN’T EVEN FUCKING THERE? It’s like— like what was the point?! You just wasted my time, your time, Carlos and my men’s time, that shit is pointless! Like at least let us catch you see we feel like we did something! Escape if you have to but this little back forth shit is driving up my gas bills man! I don’t have fuckin’ time to be tracking you across the whole damn island just for a chance to see you! You’re lucky I’m such a fucking gentleman. Anybody else would have put you down by now. If it wasn’t so entertaining for me I would’ve fuckin’ done it weeks ago. You better not try that shit when we give you to Hoyt eventually.”

“Something they would like to do with them: Fuck. What? I can see you with your stupid shocked expression. What— you want me to lie? Say I haven’t thought about it? Nah, motherfucker, I’m a gentleman. I say it like it is. Me, them— ALL OF US, we thought about it at least once. Maybe even twice. Not like we’ll ever get the chance— bitch doesn’t sit still. Couldn’t take her on a date to save her life. Not that any of us would try. We ain’t got no Olive Garden or Kentucky Fried piss-shit here. I just wanna know what the fuck would be going on in her head though. And if she gives good head. I got my theories but do I look like any kind of philosopher piece of shit type? No? I didn’t fucking think so. No further questions, motherfucker.”

#so this is what you meant : ask #// dhdjdj Pirates came on while I was writing this. it was the funniest thing #/ interaction #still i find you next to me : mutual #thxwxlf #‘’ did i ever tell you the definition of insanity ? ‘’ // vaas #‘’ ain’t no fairy tail what i see in your eyes ‘’ // keki and vaas #innocence is gone : usfw #usfwish #// it’s Vaas

[itsclydebitches]

Let me start by saying that I love all of your meta and analysis soooo much especially the ones about Ozpin. I was curious to hear what what do you think are some legit motally grey things/mistakes he did, not the garbage the haters love to throw around. The only things I can think of are either in an impossible situation with only shitty options (where I don't really consider the decisions as immoral since morality needs agency and the chance of a better choice) like with Pyrrha and Oscar (1/2)

Thank you, anon! And honestly? I couldn’t agree more. I often say that Ozpin has made mistakes partly so that people don’t blow off the points I’m trying to make with, “Oh an Ozpin stan. Ignore her, she thinks he can do no wrong and thus can’t provide an objective opinion.” But honestly? Not all mistakes are created equal. There are mistakes one makes because they’re selfish, foolish, didn’t bother to take precautions---things that are preventable and therefore invite heavy criticism and an acknowledgment of responsibility. However, there are also mistakes that, as you say, are simply outside of your control. You don’t have the information available to make an informed and therefore better choice, or you simply just have bad choices from the get-go. For me, the vast majority of Ozpin’s mistakes are the latter. 

Overall, I think the largest mistake he bears responsibility for is prioritizing his love for Salem over basic ethics. AKA, choosing to become a wannabe god with her and encouraging this mentality that they are intrinsically superior to everyone else in Remnant. Granted, there are many other factors involved in this, including Salem’s status as a creature now consumed by darkness (she was heading down this road no matter what Ozpin may have done differently) as well as her abuse towards Ozpin, her manipulation, and the sheer overwhelming terror of the goal Light set him. Which just reinforces that all Ozpin’s mistakes are understandable to one extent or another. He’s human and his mistakes resonate because, if people are honest with themselves, they’d probably admit, “Yeah. If I found the love of my life again I’d be tempted to ignore Light’s warning about her too. If I was offered a life of luxury and power under the guise of protecting the people, I might cave and go along with that as well...” We get how Ozpin got to that point, we may admit we couldn’t have done better, but we likewise understand that the man he became, regardless of how he got there---from natural human desires to abuse---isn’t okay. As Oz and his host ask themselves, “What are we doing?” And we see how he comes back from that edge. How he rejects that sort of power later when it’s offered to him after the Kingdoms were reunited. Ozpin learned from his mistakes. 

Which adds further complications to his choices in the present day. Just as Ozpin learned that the world doesn’t need him as an all-powerful figurehead, he likewise learned that sharing secrets leads to nothing but the worst kind of consequences. The first time he reveals what he’s hiding? His wife announces that she’s going to take over the world, then murders their children, then him. A more recent time he reveals information? A very close friend betrays him to said wife. Tries to kill him. Nearly kills his allies. Is eventually killed himself. The latest time he was forced to reveal information? People are shouting, grieving, he’s punched into a tree, the one friend still at his side completely rejects him. 

The fandom points to Ozpin’s lies and secret keeping among the group as his greatest mistakes and yes, objectively I agree. Without context I can say no, he shouldn’t have made a promise if he didn’t intend to keep it. He should have just told them that there were questions left, or that the relic attracted grimm. But the thing is that context is there and it always matters. I’ve spoken before about how I think Ozpin made that promise with precisely zero expectation that he’d ever be put into a situation where he might conceivably break it, that I’d also hesitate to tell a group that there were invaluable questions left when they were clearly eager to use them recklessly (which they then did), and that keeping the grimm aspect secret was the only logical course of action because telling them would just attract more. But even ignoring all of the potential justifications attached to each choice, I simply don’t believe we can ignore Ozpin’s trauma. I might not have lied to people like that, but I haven’t been horrifically traumatized for a thousand years whenever I do tell someone information. Ozpin has been conditioned not to tell people and though yes, everyone technically has free will, trauma like that will “force” you to take what you perceive as the only safe option. It fucks with your perception and your understanding of what even is an option in this situation. Ozpin simply no longer has the ability to go, “I’ll trust them!” like the others around him do and their reactions certainly didn’t help teach him otherwise. Imagine that for a thousand years you’re punched every time someone lifts their hand. Then someone you’ve just met demands that you stop flinching whenever they raise theirs. No matter how much you may want to stop, you can’t. Not immediately on someone else’s order. The human experience doesn’t work that way. 

(As a side note, the reason why I emphasize a thousand years so much is because I believe the extent of the trauma and its implied consistency is really relevant here. As is the close tie between that trauma and Ozpin’s choices. There are many other characters out there who I don’t believe “But they had a hard life!” excuses their actions: Snape, Bakugo, recently what I’ve read of Yennefer---among others. It’s notable to me that Ozpin didn’t endure traumatic events by revealing information and then, say, go abuse his students for years. Or tell someone to kill themselves. Or take over someone else’s mind. Not only is his trauma more extensive than the vast majority of characters we meet, but he hasn’t used that trauma as an excuse to get away with horrific---and unrelated---choices. The love of my life rejected me and then died... so I’m going to abuse eleven-year olds under my care. My mom is demanding and people cater to me too much... so I’m going to gleefully beat up my weakest classmate. I dealt with being ugly for a good chunk of my life and now can’t have kids... so I’m going to take away someone’s autonomy and endanger a whole town. Unlike most other characters with tragic backstories, Ozpin has a one-to-one correlation between that hard life and the mistakes he’s made: people hurt me when I tell them things... so I just won’t tell them things. By keeping that strong connection it eliminates the possibility that Ozpin is just using his trauma as an excuse (knowingly or otherwise) and he is, notably, still a good person beyond those very specific choices. We see his horror at the decisions he has to make. We see his endless attempts to be as kind towards others as possible. We see how much he’s fought not to allow his trauma to warp him into a person he’d despise. A person like Salem. Just like not all mistakes are created equal, for me not all people making mistakes are equal either. I’m less likely to forgive your mistakes if you’re an all around horrible person. You’re clearly a good person trying your best? Your mistakes are easier to stomach and, as discussed above, I’m more inclined to assume that these mistakes stem from things outside of your control. If someone who has been nothing but cruel to me lied I’d automatically be pissed. If someone who has been nothing but kind to me lied, I’m inclined to ask them why they did that, expecting that there’s a good reason attached to that decision.) 

So did Ozpin make mistakes? Technically yes, but I think they were mistakes largely outside of his control. Either he only had shit options available to him or he was in a position where the group demanded something of him that his mental health simply wouldn’t allow. People have to remember that we’re not Ozpin (insert obligatory, “He’s fictional” here). We have more options available to us when it comes to our choices, simply by means of not having gone through what he has. His choices are always limited, both by outside factors and his own experiences, and they likewise always have inevitable downsides. Ozpin doesn’t get the luxury of choosing anything that turns out well. 

As a final note, with Volume 7 underway I’d say that another potential mistake has been introduced: making Pyrrha the Fall Maiden. Meaning, unless the story reveals that Winter actually can’t become the next Winter Maiden due to her age (unlikely given that others have said the non-canonical age limit is 30), it raises the question of why he’d choose a 17 year old over a 20-some graduate. However, to me this is pretty clearly a writing issue. The creators were more concerned with keeping the story revolved around RWBYJNR than they were the implications of having Ozpin choose Pyrrha over a more suitable adult. So though yes, I’d technically consider that another mistake.... obviously not much Ozpin could do against his own creators lol. 

Which finally leads to me saying that although Rooster Teeth seems to want us to believe that Ozpin is a morally gray character, they haven’t succeeded in writing one well. That characterization requires a fair balance between what most would consider “good” and “bad” traits. Not a good person presented with only bad choices. Or a character so horrifically conditioned that his ability to make a better decision is almost impossible. We wouldn’t call a person who was manipulated or forced into doing bad things a morally gray character, nor would we use that term if, somehow, they were sick and that led to those choices. That’s how I view Ozpin, mentally as opposed to physically sick. After a thousand years he needs evidence that trusting people and giving them his secrets won’t result in him being hurt. Until he’s shown that, expecting him to trust people just because they insist they are trustworthy is like asking someone with a broken leg to run you a race. They can try, but good look expecting them to succeed. 

#rwby #rwby volume 7 #rwby volume 7 spoilers #long post #mymetas #Anonymous

[gladiatortale]

Baz Pitch Songs - Ben Platt

TL;DR: Baz’s anxious internal monologue lives in the lyrics of Ben Platt’s album, Sing to Me Instead.

I’ve been breaking my own heart for days now with this information and I need to share it with the WORLD. 

Okay so I am still an overflowing well of FEELINGS after reading Wayward Son, and in the wake of this I come to the conclusion that there is no better encapsulating soundtrack for the mood of this book than Sing to Me Instead. 

The entire album is a goldmine of angst and adult-ulescent zeitgeist (that shitty late teen/ early twenties age where nothing makes sense and there is no road map for anything). But I’m going focus on two song’s in particular that are so unbelievably Wayward Son Baz, that they smell like fucking cedar and bergamot. OKAY.

Song 1: Grow as We Go

Something I needed to continually remind myself as I was reading Wayward Son is that Baz doesn't actually know that Simon is thinking of breaking up with him. Nevertheless Baz’s pain, confusion, and ongoing identity crises - built out of months of stewing silently in between the first and second book - comes through in every single one of his actions. This is especially true in the book’s early chapters. 

To anyone who has been with a partner suffering from depression, the scenes in the flat and at the airport ring through as painfully familiar,

“He’s lovely. A bit of a sad mess. Dull and pale and rough around the edges. But still so lovely.” (Wayward Son, Chapter 9)

Baz loves Simon so much that it hurts him to even think of not being with him. And yet despite not actually knowing Simon’s intentions before Penny slammed a door on his face, (lol) Baz’s anxiety grows from a true fear of losing him; whether that’s losing him to someone else or to depression, the fear remains the same.

ENTER BEN PLATT.

The opening lyrics of Grow as We Go sound like they were written by Baz himself in a letter to Simon,

“You say there's so much you don't know You need to go and find yourself You say you'd rather be alone 'Cause you think you won't find it tied to someone else.” (Grow As We Go, Ben Platt)

(Knowing British people as I do, it’s a bit too much sharing all at once to be something Baz would say all at one time, but I’m getting off topic). These lines encapsulate the bleeding heart bargaining Baz feels as he worries Simon is slipping away from him, while at the same time focuses on the fact that Baz still feels they are destined to be together after everything they’ve survived so far. 

“Ooh, who said it's true That the growing only happens on your own? They don't know me and you.” (Grow As We Go, Ben Platt)

Baz would say to the rest of the world, even to Simon himself, that they make each other better by being together.

“I don't know who we'll become I can't promise it's not written in the stars But I believe that when it's done  We're gonna see that it was better That we grew up together” (Grow As We Go, Ben Platt)

There’s SO FUCKING MUCH to unpack so I’ll keep in brief. This entire passage links back to motifs from Carry On. 

Beginning with the star motif (which I could and MIGHT write a whole separate essay about); Stars have been known to appear during incredibly vulnerable, shifting moments in Simon and Baz’s relationship. We first see the motif when Simon shares his magic with in Carry On, and the motif reappears more with a more cautious, anxious tone in the back of Shepard’s truck withWayward Son. Which is why when it so poetically appears in this verse, it feels like the perfect match to Baz’s tone.

However, the real gut punch of this song comes when we examine this line from Chapter 11, in conjunction with the aforementioned section of the song,

“‘They’re not that far apart,’ I say. ‘Not to you; you grew up in a mansion.’ ‘I grew up at the top of a tower,’ I say. ‘With you’.” (Wayward Son, Chapter 11)

The final line of this section of the lyrics are SO important because they connect to these specific lines from Wayward Son painfully well. They encapsulate Baz’s wish to grow old (as much as he can… ohhh WE’RE GETTING THERE), more specifically to continue to grow old with Simon. Together these passages highlight that, despite Simon’s gradual attempts to pull away from Baz (ironically due to what Simon perceives as kindness), Baz still has faith enough in the strength of their relationship to try and keep them together.

In essence, go listen to the song. It’ll smash your heart into a million pieces, but you’ll still thank me for recommending it.

Song 2: In Case You Don't Live Forever

AAAAAAAAAAAAH. OKAY. 

Here’s where shit reeeeally hits the fan. I’m going to get the obvious out of the way right now. 

For the first time in the series, we see Baz actually confront the reality of his immortality in Wayward Son. I know there is still a question mark hanging above this statement because Baz is an semi-unreliable narrator and we only can know what he does, but his conversations with Lamb brings to light the true reality of his condition: Baz can, in theory, live forever. What is also frighteningly true - and a fact which Rowell herself hasn’t even fully articulated yet - is the fact that Simon, as far as we know, won’t live forever.

CUE BEN PLATT AND HIS SAD PIANO MUSIC.

“You put all your faith in my dreams You gave me the world that I wanted What did I do to deserve you?” (In Case You Don’t Live Forever, Ben Platt)

This self-depreciative, I-dont-deserve-anything tone is PAINFULLY in line with Baz’s own internal monologue. Throughout the majority of Carry On (as well as the just under a decade which preceded the events of the book) Baz have lived convinced that Simon is going to kill him one day. When that inevitably DOESN'T happen and they end up together, Baz cannot believe his luck.

“I've waited way too long to say Everything you mean to me” (In Case You Don’t Live Forever, Ben Platt)

AND DESPITE HIS PERCVIED SPECTACULAR LUCK, this FUCKING numpty waits until the LITERAL second to last page of the SECOND book to say how he really feels,

“I raise my voice: ‘Why cant you see that I wouldn’t be happy anywhere without you?’ He sits back, like I’ve slapped him.” (Wayward Son, p. 353)

This ties in beautifully with - so much so I was screaming at my desktop as I listened to it - the second verse of In Case You Don't Live Forever,

“I, I've carried this song in my mind Listen, it's echoing in me But I haven't helped you to hear it We, we've only got so much time I'm pretty sure it would kill me If you didn't know the pieces of me are pieces of you” (In Case You Don’t Live Forever, Ben Platt)

Baz’s hesitation, whether born culturally out of a stubborn British habit not to share your emotions for fear of oversharing, or hesitation specific to his relationship with Simon, has kept him from speaking his mind. It has kept him from speaking about how deeply his life has been changed by Simon, and how fleeting and short their time together truly is.

WHAT MIGHT PROMPT BAZ TO SAY SOMETHING LIKE THIS?? Perhaps the realization that Simon won’t live forever, that he has to say these things to him In Case You Don't Live Forever.

MIC DROP. 

Aaaaaand cue the saddest line of the song, please...

“In case you don't live forever, let me tell you now I love you more than you'll ever wrap your head around In case you don't live forever, let me tell you the truth I'm everything that I am because of you” (In Case You Don’t Live Forever, Ben Platt)

The absolutely heart wrenching scene (“Simon… love… get up. We still have to save Agatha.” NOPE. Still not over it!) as they fight The Next Blood in the dead spot, when considered together with Lamb’s words from earlier in the novel, is truly the moment when Baz realises he will lose Simon someday.

In this way therefore the song connects Baz’s internal monologue as it looks forward toward the events of Anyway the Wind Blows. 

Now. I would not DARE try to put words in Rowell’s mouth, but when viewed holistically with Baz’s final actions in Wayward Son (his realization of the temporality of Simon’s life against the length of his own, and his brash declaration that his life is hardly worth living without Simon in it) Platt’s song sets to music the logical trajectory of Baz’s emotional state and desires in a way I sincerely hope we see in this next and final novel.

THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK.

BONUS:

THESE LINES FUCKED ME SO MUCH I CAN’T EVEN B E G I N TO UNPACK HOW MUCH THIS IS JUST THEIR RELATIONSHIP AND THE WAY BAZ SEES SIMON.

“I have a hero whenever I need one I just look up to you and I see one I'm a man 'cause you taught me to be one.” (In Case You Don’t Live Forever, Ben Platt)

GGGGGAAAAAAH  I’M DONE BEING ANALYTICAL. THAT LINE JUST FINISHED ME OFF. 

#wayward son #snowbaz #ben platt #baz pitch #rainbow rowell #carry on #simon snow #IM BREAKING MY OWN HEART AND DRAGGING YALL DOWN WITH ME