#This post has been living in my brain for weeks I'm so happy to get it out

[sophieswundergarten]

Mundane Magic/Superpowers that I think MBS Humans would have

Mr. Benedict can tell just the right trick to get someone talking. He uses this on occasion for more sneaky things, like getting important information out of a government agent who'd otherwise be hesitant to share by offering them a plate of cookies, but most often it's directed toward giving his family the confidence to say what's on their mind. More or less eye contact, a hug or keeping his distance, playing a game or even just sitting together quietly. He knows each of the people he loves intimately well, and he can tell when there's something weighing on their hearts. However, there are definitely times when he uses this emotional intuition to pull pranks or silly secrets out of them, and while there's a slight surprised indignation, the moment always ends in laughter.

Number Two never runs out of dishes. It doesn't matter if she's cooking or making everyone hot chocolate or even putting away leftovers. The entire kitchen could be a disaster, but she will always have just the right container free. Somehow, whatever she needs is right there in the cabinet. She barely even bothers to look anymore, just reaching in and knowing that at the tips of her fingers will be the right sized mixing bowl, or the correct number of spoons, or another pie dish for Moocho. Some days, she won't necessarily find what she's looking for, but she'll find what is needed. Mr. Benedict's favourite mug, Kate's hand-painted bowl, the plate she always uses to bring SQ snacks. And she'll simply shrug and go about preparing whatever that person needs. (It's always appreciated)

Rhonda always knows the right colours for things. Beyond just having an artistic eye, she knows how the right patterns and designs will influence a person. Colour theory to the max. She can make herself look younger, older, more credible, or even on death's doorstep. Half of her disguises are based around the right shade of cloth, and besides that, she can extend her skills to interior design too. Why do you think Mr. Benedict's study is so particularly calming to him? She sets up each of the children's rooms, and though she may not have known them for long, somehow she got everything right, to the point that Sticky asks if she'd been spying on them to ascertain their favourite colours.

Milligan is always the right temperature for day-to-day events. He brings a jacket everywhere in case, because he likes to be prepared, but rarely needs it. More often than not, he ends up giving it to someone else because they got cold. Even when moving in and out of buildings, he adapts quickly to whatever the weather or indoor temperature might be. Even if it's a slightly chillier day, and he did think that a sweater would be needed, the instant Kate starts shivering he takes it off, and finds that he probably didn't need it after all. Rain never seems to stick to him, rolling off his hat and overcoat like he's a duck, and though his hair might be damp, he's never soaked by anything less than a torrential storm.

Miss Perumal makes the perfect cup of tea. No matter who she's making it for or how much, she has just the right timing to get the best flavour. It doesn't matter if it's a special kind of tea leaves she bought intentionally and has been saving or if it's the weird stuff kept in hotel rooms, tea made by her hands is always the best. Of course, when she takes the time to intentionally make tea just for a specific person it has the added bonus attached, but there's always something comforting about a cup of tea from her.

Curtain never has his ink bleed when he's writing. Anything he commits to paper, even if it's a harried scribble, always is perfectly legible to him. Pencil graphite never smears for him, and he is consistently able to find a writing utensil when he needs one. When he was in school, he never had to borrow one, his pencils were always sharp and his pens never died. (It was unknown whether they simply kept working until he finished writing and then disappeared or were lost, or if he really just used the same one for years on end)

Garrison keeps impeccable time in her head. She barely even needs a stop watch for times up to five or ten minutes (But she keeps one on hand anyways). Timing experiments, keeping track of how long she needs to finish tasks, even remembering how long it takes other people to do things if she's seen them do it enough. She doesn't want to believe that she has this ability, even though no matter how many times she tests it she comes up with near perfect results, but sometimes she finds herself relying on it absentmindedly.

SQ has never broken or lost a single piece of his art supplies. No matter what's happening, or where he's been, he's always able to find everything safe in his bag. He doesn't even need to be paying attention, but whatever colour of pencil or type of tool he grabs when he's too focused on his work to look up is exactly what he needs. There's something about his art that seems more vibrant and alive than most others', and even he isn't completely sure how exactly what he's picturing in his mind transfers so perfectly to the physical world.

Reynie gives the best hugs. It doesn't matter who it is, or how badly their day has been going, he always knows just the right amount of pressure. His hugs never last too long, even though he's never the first one to pull away. He finds the right position for his arms and the correct way to lean into the person he's hugging no matter their height. Even if he's in a completely separate room, or if the person goes off to be on their own, something will nag at him to go find them, and when he does it's always a welcome intrusion. The others never even have to ask, which is good for some of them who struggle with verbally requesting affection. As soon as the thought enters their head to wish for a hug, he's right there, ready to offer one, with a smile entirely free of judgement.

Sticky's books stay open to the right page no matter what. Even if he closes it, the next time he picks it up it will fall open right where he left off. He always remembers where he stopped reading, obviously, but it's a nice comfort to have the books immediately settle on where he last was. On occasion, however, the pages will turn not to what he was reading, but what he needs to read. When he's feeling alone, the notebook he keeps his friends' letters in will fall off the shelf; sometimes an operating manual will tip over on his desk just a few minutes before his mother's wheelchair acts up; and he has great success finding recipe cards that Number Two would have sworn had been lost for months on the very day they're wanted.

Kate has a keen sense for when things will last. Rope, tools, even furniture, all she has to do is look at it for a moment and she'll be able to tell whether or not it will be worth using. She would always check the harnesses and equipment at the circus, warning the other performers if something was nearing a breaking point. Once she meets the others, she will sometimes take a day where she works her way through Mr. Benedict's study with her friends, making a stack of books whose binding is getting particularly fragile. She also is very careful to sneakily dispose of any dishes that might have hidden stress fractures, since so many people in their family are sensitive to the loud shattering noises.

Constance can always find blank paper. It doesn't matter where they are, or what's going on, there's either a stack of free brochures she can disassemble or a flyer she can steal or a scrap of notepaper buried deep in her pocket that she evidently forgot about. There were a couple of times her family was concerned she was just tearing the end pages out of books, but she insisted that she would never do that, citing how upset it would make Mr. Benedict (And the rest of them, even though she won't admit it) Most often she uses these to write down her poems, but if there's ever an important message she must pass on, or a vital detail that needs to be recorded, she always has enough space to ensure everything is included.

Moocho, of course, can bake amazing pies. However, beyond his skilled ability to never tear or burn crusts, he is always able to intuit portions. It's a little like Kate being able to know measurements, but even if there's no notice that there's going to be a guest, something will tell him to make extra. He always knows how hungry someone is, even if they deny it, and will give them the right amount of food. Everyone eventually learns to trust him, and on some rainy day when the larger serving dishes are pulled out, they are certain to set an extra place at the table.

#I wanted to do Jackson Jillson and Jeffers #But this was already a bit long and I wasn't sure if I could come up with something good for them #This post has been living in my brain for weeks I'm so happy to get it out #One of these days I'll have a Milligan idea without accidentally connecting him to the weather #the mysterious benedict society #mbs #mr. benedict #nicholas benedict #number two #rhonda kazembe #milligan #milligan wetherall #miss perumal #dipika perumal #mr. curtain #ledroptha curtain #ld curtain #nathaniel benedict #dr. garrison #sq pedalian #reynie muldoon #sticky washington #kate wetherall #constance contraire #moocho brazos

[etherealstar-writes]

I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 6

pairings: lionesses x reader

summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.

part: six

part one here

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

yourusername: a little photo dump

yourbestiesusername: i'm really proud of that first pic i took of you, i'm coming for your career

↳ yourusername: oi photography's my thing, go find another career

lucybronze: this is cute. you are really beautiful! ❤️

↳ yourusername: OMG NO WAY TYSM!! you're amazing ilysm!!

↳ lucybronze: thank you! @ yourusername

usera omg. the REAL lucy bronze commented on your post!!

↳ yourusername i am not okay rn

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM

the imposter

YOU GUYS

GUESS WHAT OMG

the REAL karate kid

what happened?

lotte

is everything alright?

the imposter

NO EVERYTHING IS NOT OKAY

neev

you're kinda scaring me now

the imposter

i know i'm not a woso fan yet

bcuz i'm still incredibly uncultured

and literally don't know anyone yet

elton

yeah we know

the imposter

BUT LUCY BRONZE COMMENTED ON MY POST

I AM SCREAMING

the REAL karate kid

WHAT

neev

WOAH WOAH

hold on

stairway

that old grandma can actually use insta??

rusty metal

OI

that is so rude and offensive!

to that old grandma ....

the REAL karate kid

SHUT UP

rusty metal

the disrespect children have nowadays

unbelievable

well i'm glad she made your day y/n <3

the imposter

thank you!!!

i'm gonna go thrive in my happiness for the

rest of my life for a celebrity noticing me

peace out

lotte

well i'm glad she's happy

willybum

i need to up my game now

the REAL karate kid

me too

stairway

y'all are such simps

neev

says one of the simps herself

stairway

shut up niamh

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM

brightness

you know

i just remembered that y/n is still in here

and we don't know like anything about her

at all

door knob

oh yeah

we only know her name

the imposter

i literally only kinda know your names

and that is it

neev

she got a point there

the imposter

honestly i don't get why i'm even still in this chat

not that i'm complaining

stairway

you've been fun to talk to these past few weeks

unlike most of the people on this group chat

who simply decide to ignore their notifications

elton

yeah fr

i didn't feel the need to make a new chat tbh

the imposter

i'm honoured?

elton

you should be

the imposter

uh okay ...

well

i'm 22

i'm a pro photographer and media editor/manager

and uhh i live in london?

idk what else to say tbh

stairway

photography's so cool!

the imposter

thank you!

earpsy

is toone being 10x more annoying

because i'm sick or?

the REAL karate kid

nah she's just that annoying

elton

now that is just rude

willybum

she has an encylcopedia on

how to be annoying

elton

STOP SAYING THAT WORD

wait

guys

neev

oh no

willybum

today on stupid stuff toone is going to say!

elton

oi! i'm not stupid!

the REAL karate kid

you literally thought germany started with j

elton

I WAS UNDER PRESSURE OKAY

anyway as i was about to say

isn't it crazy to think that the money you have

has probably been or could be in like

a stripper's bra or underwear at some point

the REAL karate kid

why does your brain function this way 😭

stairway

wait a sec-

....

she has a point

neev

STOP 😭

that is ALL what i'm gonna think about now

the imposter

never touching cash again that's for sure 😭

willybum

donating all my cash to the trash now

lotte

oh my days

why

just why

meado

WHAT DID I JUST READ 😭😭

part seven here

#lionesses x reader #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #engwnt #alessia russo x reader #leah williamson x reader #ella toone x reader #niamh charles x reader #georgia stanway x reader #lucy bronze x reader #lotte wubben moy x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso fanfics #women football

[boiohboii]

Protective girl (Charles Leclerc x reader)

Inspires by @charles-eclair16 's fic

When fans go too far, yn wants to protect the one treasure in her life

or

in which we finally get to see the roles reversed

N.B: this is been in my drafts for so long, omg! Let me know what you guys think!! WARNING: not proof read, some swear words, might have messed up a date, don't focus on any dates mentioned, this is all fictional anyways. Hope you guys like it

masterlist

Liked by Arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 1,379,064 others

itsmeyn: charles always goes above and beyond for every single fan of his, he tries to take as many pictures and sign as many autographs as possible, but what happened last night was a fucking joke. He doesn't like what I'm writing cause he says that it was just a mistake and that it was fine, but it really isn't, it's so disrespectful and disgusting! He always wants to meet his fans and make them happy only to receive this insanity, him falling AND HURTING HIMSELF because some of you can't fucking wait and be organized like a human being! Charles isn't an animal in a zoo where you race to pet him! He is a human being, he is a son, a brother and a boyfriend! This wasn't just an accident, i have seen these 6 girls multiple times in multiple places! it's so obsessive and so so sick of you to follow him everywhere.... Charles won't speak up because he is Charles and he lives seeing the good in people, but I will tear everything and everyone for his safety, so for you 6 girls you will be hearing from court soon so better prepare a good lawyer you assholes!

Comments on this post have been disabled.

Liked by leclercboy, ynistheitgurl, fuckferarri and 91,739 others

F1_updates_live: Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, YN LN, seen today arriving in front of the UK's courthouse in a red SF9 Ferarri. It had been quite a week for YN as she was seen hitting a fan after the said fan pushed Charles. YN took this fan and 5 others to court, no one knows on what bases but what has come out is that she has won the case which means that Charles and YN have restraining orders against the group.

username: OHH HEEEELLL YEAAAAAHH

username: yn doing God's work

username: yn serving justice

username: that's what we needed

username: hot girl shit

username: the car and suit combo is so fucking hot of her

username: I think this is too much, like these girls just wanted to see Charles

username: @.itsmeyn can we make them 7?

username: another one

Liked by Charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, pierregasly and 617,829 others

itsmeyn: don't blame me, love made me crazy

username: YN IS A FELLOW SWIFTIE?!?!?

username: if I had a nickel for everytime yn and I had something in common I'd have 2 nickels, which is not a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice

username: now I just want her to watch all the charles edits done with a taylor song

itsmeyn: who says i already don't 🌚

username: and I oop-

username: THIS IS THE SWEETEST AND CRINGIEST SHIT EVER!

Liked by wolfffam, maxverstappen1, lance_stroll and 817,629 others

itsmeyn: congratulations to my baby, the love of my life, you deserve it and so much more ♥️♥️

username: FINALLY!!

username: idk how to react, ferarri has let us down too many times that all I know is lose

username: I don't see how he deserves it tbh, all of his results are shit for quite a while , he's only where he is cause he's driving a ferarri 🤷‍♂️

itsmeyn: oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were the one in a formula one car, in a ferarri, that by the words of many professionals is at its worse era. I don't care about you and your opinion but don't state it as a fact, no one can do better with these strategies. I hate to keep saying this but when your own fucking team doesn't have the same dream as you it turns to shit. Even if charles is the only one in the car, it's still a team sport, not a one man sport. Fuck you and your tiny ass brain that can never survive one lap in a formula one car, it'll probably explode cause of all the bullshit in it before the first lap anyway. So next time you wanna talk shit maybe try to do fifth of who you're criticising is doing, I bet that'll shut you up real quick you dimwit.

Liked by leclercpascale, pilotesofmonaco, tswiftyn, and 52,719 others

F1_updates_live: YN LN, Charles' long time girlfriend, seen today fighting Xavi in Bahrain due to his mistake on the radio which resulted in Charles losing his podium position.

username: good for her

username: charles is so lucky

username: I love how she always stands up for him

username: honestly, whenever charles or carlos ignore the strategies they win... I really wanna see more of that.

username: this is just Monaco 2024 GP all over again, yn was so fucking furious (rightfully so) cause Xavi's mistake costed charles a p1 in his home race.

username: this shit was so heartbreaking man

username: I think this was the first time we ever saw yn angry at sabotaging charles, like the most we saw was her holding his hand when crossing the street, making sure he eats first, playing with his hair when nervous, but I've never seen yn make someone literally cry until 2024 with Xavi being her victim

username: pffft, victim, he 100% deserved it

username: oh yeah, definitely. All my homes hate Xavi, like can you not say the strategy properly 😒

#f1 social media au #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #charles leclerc #f1 #charles leclerc fluff #charles x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles x yn #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc twitter au

[oneatlatime]

The Guru

Happy 2024 everyone and welcome to the first time I managed to type 2024 without first typing 2023! Oh and also a write up of The Guru. That too.

Me too Iroh. Me too.

So Zuko is riding high on that post-crisis 'time to get my life together' buzz that, similar to 3 am life plans, should absolutely not be listened to. Wonder how long before he crashes and burns? There's literally 2 episodes left, so I'm guessing one and a half?

Poor Sokka. My boy's got anxiety.

I don't know if it's a monk thing, an airbender thing, an Avatar thing, or an Aang thing, but I envy his complete lack of nerves.

How is Appa ok with them splitting up for a week after JUST getting them back?

I paused in a funny place. Have bonk-eyed Appa.

I love them comparing heights. What do you want to bet that that guy on the right was one of the youngest allowed to go fight, and Sokka made a big deal about how they're almost the same age and surely that means he can go too, right?

A lot of these Southern Water Tribe people have dreads or braids. That's neat.

Bato's arm is still messed up. That's some good continuity.

I've found the source of Katara's cheek bones. I guess Sokka takes after his mum.

Ok I know this is a really emotional moment (and it is! Sokka's spent two seasons earning this!) but my brain fixated on the furs and briefly thought they were sky bison pelts.

"It's been a difficult week for me." This guy thinks the Kyoshi Warriors are there to provide him therapy. Someone please just crown the bear instead.

He just gave away literally every relevant plot point AND outlined how to make sure all these plot points don't succeed. Crown. The. Bear.

Maybe if these generals spent less time playing with their giant model Earth Kingdom and more time general-ing, the war wouldn't suck so much?

Pretty.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE the designs, the colour palette, the music, the sound design of this air temple. I love everything about it. If I had the chance to live anywhere in the Avatar universe, it would be here. Even in its ruined state it's such a refreshing contrast to the claustrophobia of Ba Sing Se. I can feel the freshness of the breeze through the screen.

"A spiritual brother of your people" an adult perspective on a near extinct culture! What a resource!

"and a personal friend of Monk Gyatso" an old as balls perspective. He's got to be at least 130.

Anthropology cul de sac time: this guy is so valuable as a resource on the Air Nomads. There's probably parts of Air Nomad culture that Aang can't ever accurately talk about, because he was a kid when he left, and there was almost certainly stuff that the adults kept to themselves, or only shared with the older Air Nomads. This Guru doesn't seem to be an Air Nomad himself, but there's a good chance that there is knowledge that he has, that Aang doesn't. Aang should be nerding out more about this. I'll do the nerding out for him.

Aang just breezes right by that Gyatso name drop like it's nothing. Huh.

Oh hey Toph. I'd forgotten she was in a box. Tweedle dum and Tweedle dumber really are quite the pair. What's their plan for keeping her fed and watered? Actually, these guys apparently don't know that maps exist, so it's probably never occurred to them that humans need sustenance. They'll rock up to the Bei Fong estate with corpse Toph and wonder why they aren't getting the reward money.

Mai gets called out in-universe for shopping at Hot Topic.

Ty Lee's buttering up of Azula is getting less and less subtle as the season progresses. It's a testament to Azula's lack of awareness that she's hasn't noticed that, and that Ty Lee can get away with it.

Azula's right that it's an extraordinary opportunity. The King gave them quite literally every piece of info required to overthrow his kingdom in a 25 second conversation. I can't blame her for taking advantage of such an easy win.

That's a very effective unimpressed face. And a very impressive beard.

It's funny to see a spiritual concept from the real world pop up in a show that includes things like bending and giant fish possession. The mention of Chakras kind of sticks out. They couldn't invent a Avatar universe version?

"Once you begin this process, you cannot stop until all seven are open." Well that doesn't feel like foreshadowing at all.

This episode should be called "Aang's self-care Journey." It's about time the kid had a me day that wasn't avoidance-based.

Fear: Losing Katara - makes sense. Losing control of his powers via fish possession - makes sense. The Fire Lord - makes sense. But the Blue Spirit? He helped. Doesn't make sense.

Guilt: Running away - makes sense, although I thought he'd worked through that with Katara in the storm. Nuking that idiot General's base - makes sense, but boy did he quite literally ask for it.

This guru is saying some wonderfully accurate, and realistic, things. I love that he's not taking the Katara route of denying anything is wrong. He's going for the acknowledge, then heal route. And yes, it's unfair of me to compare the emotional maturity of Katara to a century+ old spiritual expert.

I'm going to ruin the immersion here and point out that Sokka's dad's voice actor voiced a bunch of characters in season 1. He's doing an excellent job, but couldn't they get a unique voice for a character that's so important (albeit offscreen) to Sokka?

That's an incredibly roundabout way of avoiding pointing out that the Southern Water Tribe are active participants in a bloody war. Sure, we can show multiple characters with visible scarring from horrific burns, but heaven forbid we imply that the Southern Water Tribe sinks ships. The parameters for what is and isn't appropriate on this show sometimes make no sense.

"Aren't you listening? I said the rest of you men get ready for battle." He hasn't seen his boy in two years, but fifteen minutes in his company and he knows exactly what needs to be said and how. That's some top tier parenting. Dad of the year. Dad of the century. Only decent Dad in this show that isn't technically an uncle.

"Follow your passion Zuko, and life will reward you." Great advice for your eight year old audience. Also a great way to end up unemployed.

Positive Sokka creeped me out a few episodes ago. Now positive Zuko is freaking me out too.

Pretty.

Back to Chakras! Shame: Burning Katara - makes sense. But that's it? To have the inner peace of mind of a twelve year old who's somehow only ever done one thing that he's ashamed of.

Is there anyone in the earth kingdom who isn't stupid? Once again wondering at the network's standards. Visible burn injuries are fine, but Mai can't say 'Shut up." It's got to be Shush up. Although I do seem to recall of brief time in the early 2000s when Shut Up was treated as a curse on par with Shit or Fuck. Maybe that was just at my school.

Chakras again! Even for a show that often has an A, B, and C plot, this narrative is ping ponging around a bit much.

Grief: nothing major, just a whole nation. Makes a horrific amount of sense. but I don't buy that he can get over grieving the whole world as he knew it by thinking about his crush. That's way too high a pedestal for Katara to be placed on.

Lies: Not accepting he's the Avatar. Interesting that not accepting that he's the Avatar and not accepting that he's a firebender are two different problems.

I see you reusing the opening credits footage. Your blue filters can't fool me.

PRETTY

Illusion: So we're relearning what we learned in The Swamp. Aang's probably the person currently alive least likely to believe in the rigid separation of the nations anyway. This doesn't feel like an illusion he's subject to?

The way this episode dances between its narrative threads is so great. It's all woven in so beautifully. And this makes perfect sense! Toph's spent her life secretly doing things excellently that everyone says are completely beyond her capabilities. Life has taught her that the statement "you are not able to" doesn't apply. Of course immutable laws of bending physics are treated with the same respect as an adult telling the champion of the Earth Rumble that she's can't earthbend beyond breathing exercises. If you told her that humans can't fly, she'd figure out how within the week.

Plot collision incoming.

Interesting that Katara initially recognises Zuko by his voice rather than his scar.

I'm pretty sure that Zuko and Iroh don't know about the whole brainwashing thing, but wouldn't it be hilarious if Zuko introduced himself to Katara as Joo Dee, and his uncle Joo Dee, welcome to the Jasmine Dragon, can I take your order? That would throw Katara into one hell of a moral quandary.

Katara being framed as the solution for Chakra number four comes back to bite Aang, as she's the problem in Chakra number seven. I knew that pedestal was too high.

I've changed my mind. This episode should actually be called "Half a dozen reasons why everyone should just learn to keep their goddamn mouths shut already."

So is anyone going to let Zuko and Iroh know that they're now in immediate danger and need to leave, like, yesterday?

I think the Guru is going for the whole 'if you love them, let them go, and they'll come back to you' thing. Don't cling, in other words. But for the sake of the plot he's suddenly lost his ability to explain Chakras in a way that makes them seem like the logical thing to do. The only clunky bit of this episode so far.

May I introduce you to our Lord and Saviour Toph?

"I am the greatest earthbender in the world." Yes. Yep. Yeah. That's now a quantifiable fact, and it's correct. Look on ye mighty and despair. She's even got Bumi beat.

Earth Tongue Running is a bit wonky looking but it covers a crazy amount of distance.

What's the range on Toph's earth sense? Can she sense what direction Ba Sing Se is?

I hope those two idiots' horse bird is ok.

"You don't know how much this means to me dad." He does. Very much so.

Every word out of this guy's mouth is precision engineered to make Sokka feel like a million bucks and I for one think it's about time someone built him up. Also, seeing this makes me realise how few good parents there are in this show. It's a trope of kids' adventure shows that the parents fundamentally can't be there, but I also think it's a commentary on yet another thing that this war has messed up.

Hey look! Being a man is knowing where you're needed the most, and right now that's in Ba Sing Se, protecting your sister! I love narratives that tie their themes up with a pretty bow on top.

This is Azula laying a trap, right? Which means that Katara squealed to someone about the exact location of Iroh and Zuko's tea shop. Don't like the implications of that.

Photos taken seconds before disaster.

Final Thoughts

This episode was a lot! I mean that in a good way! But I felt a bit like the Maxell Blown Away Guy, the way I kept getting assaulted by yet another plot thread. Don't get me wrong, this isn't a criticism. I think the switching between plot threads and the amount of info in this episode worked 99% of the time. But I'm kind of in awe at the balancing act the writers pulled off and I'm sort of sitting here blinking a bit trying to fit all this stuff in my head. I'm probably going to forget half the stuff I wanted to talk about in this write up, so here goes nothing.

Given the Azula reveal in at the end of last episode, I thought that this would be the episode where the shit hits the fan. I was wrong. I'm glad I was wrong. An episode of set up is required and is nice breathing room, even an episode as busy as this. And I got to leave Ba Sing Se! But this does mean that next episode is going to be calamity after calamity.

Aang and his Chakras: I'm fascinated by this guru. I hope he comes back. That brings the total number of people who were alive before the war started up to three: Aang, Bumi, Guru Patik.

I'm impressed that the run through of the Chakras rarely felt like an info dump. The onion and banana juice thing didn't work for me, but I'm sure it worked for people in the target age bracket. Kids love burp jokes.

So many shows sprinkle in tragic backstories for flavour and then never have them influence the character in the present. It was a nice contrast to see a show take a whole episode to tell Aang "yeah all that sucked. It's ok to feel down about it. Here's how you move forward."

Sokka and his dad: Love it. Love it so much. I love seeing Sokka built up, and he definitely deserves it, but I wonder if this is the reward for a character arc well done, or the set up for a character arc that's about to start? Is his dad's praise his prize for crossing the finish line, or is it so he's built up with farther to fall?

I loved seeing more of the Southern Water Tribe. I loved the fashion. There's a lot of variety in accessories and variations on a few basic elements like those knee guard things. I loved their hairstyles. I loved how cozy and communal that command tent felt. I loved their ships. I wonder how often these guys work out, that they can make loading ramps that are presumably deployed and stashed out of the way frequently, out of whole logs rather than planks. I have a bone to pick with the child-friendly sea mine. But it provides a good set up for a dad joke, so I'll let it slide.

Zuko and Iroh: Of course the one time Zuko is allowed to be in a good place, it's so that he and Iroh both have farther to fall when the inevitable happens. Poor guy just can't catch a break. I'd be mad at Azula for the party crashing that I'm assuming she'll do next episode, but it's been established that Zuko has all nice things taken away from him as soon as he gets them, and I can't blame Azula for being a tool of the universe.

Azula & Long Feng: Azula's acting in Long Feng's prison cell was miles ahead of what Long Feng was doing in front of the Earth King, so I'm wondering if Long Feng has bitten off more than he can chew. Also: conspiring with the enemy to bring down your own city just so you can reinstall yourself as the power behind the throne that will presumably cease to exist as soon as the Fire Nation takes control? That is both treasonous beyond description and an incredible case of shooting yourself in the foot. What's Long Feng's plan here?

Toph and the Dunderheads: it says something about the consistency of Toph's characterisation from her introduction onwards that she breaks the universe this episode and my reaction was "that's neat." It's obviously a huge moment, but of course Toph can do that. Toph can do anything. More importantly, Toph knows that Toph can do anything, so Toph routinely does do anything, especially things she shouldn't be able to do. If you had asked me a few episodes back which character would be most likely to fundamentally redefine bending, I would have said Toph, since she's already fundamentally redefined bending with her earth sense sonar vision.

Also Toph just breaks stuff. Things that come into contact with her cease to function as intended and instead function as Toph requires. Look at the two idiots: both successful business owners, one also a successful hoodwinker of the richest family around. But they come into contact with Toph and their brains take an extended vacation.

Katara & the Generals: this plot was more like an extension of Azula's plot than its own standalone thing. You can't blame her for spilling the news about Zuko and Iroh to someone she honestly thought was Suki. Not much else to say about it, although it's cute that she asks for a table for two at the tea shop. Momo gets a chair!

I like that there's a theme this episode of things going wrong despite the best intentions. No one's acting maliciously here apart from the Antagonists. The Earth King is having an honest chat with people he thought were friends. Sokka vouched for people he honestly thought were the Kyoshi Warriors. Katara shares information about a presumed threat with people she honestly thought were her allies. You can quibble with the wisdom of some of these decisions, but there were all done with good intentions. The best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry and all that. It brings to mind that Star Trek quote about how you can do everything right and still lose. And this set up is going to hit harder when whatever goes wrong next episode happens. And something will go wrong. A few months ago I figured that the Season 2 finale would be a triumph, but all signs are pointing towards a tragedy instead.

This episode was visually stunning, the soundtrack in the Air Temple sections especially was very evocative, and I applaud the minds that could juggle that many plot threads at once without dropping any. This one is definitely going on my rewatch list.

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #the guru

[lanadelnegan]

My Past, My Future - Part 5 (Final part)

Negan x Reader x Daryl

part four here / part one here

Warnings: 18+, smut, angst

Note: I'm sorry this took so long for me to post. Been kinda out of it lately, but probably gonna start posting regularly again.

Red = Negan / Blue = Daryl / Pink - Reader

"Negan..." Your jaw lowers slightly in disbelief as you look up into his tired eyes. Before your brain has time to stop you, you lunge forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and inhaling the familiar smell of him. "God I am so glad you're okay." A tear falls from your cheek as he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck and holds you tight.

Pulling back slightly after a moment too long, you clear your throat awkwardly and drop your hands to your sides. You quickly wipe the tear slipping down your cheek as Negan tilts his head at you empathetically. "Baby.."

"No..." You shake your head, remembering how Negan left you - alone and worried to death. "Negan, I - I don't understand. Why? Why did you leave?" You ramble, letting the hurt and anger wash over you all over again. "I looked for you for three weeks straight. I didn't eat.. didn't sleep.. just cried until I couldn't anymore."

"I saw you two.. kissing.. I thought -"

"You thought wrong, Negan. I wanted it to be you. I told Daryl that after the kiss. I came back to Alexandria that night to tell you, and you - you were gone. How could you do that to me? Just leave and not even look back like I never meant anything to you?"

"C'mon, You know that's not true... Was I supposed to just stay there and fuckin' watch you be with him?!"

Before you can respond, the front door swings open behind you and Daryl quickly appears at your side, wrapping his arm protectively around your waist.

Negan scoffs, glancing down at Daryl's hand gripping you possessively. "Seriously? You two are a thing now, huh? And you expect me to believe you were gonna fuckin' choose me?"

"Believe what you want. It's the truth. Not that it matters anymore. You left. You made your decision."

"Yeah." Negan nods. "I guess you did too."

"You dunno what the hell you're talkin' about. Got no right to talk to her like that when you just up and left." Daryl's jaw clenches as he glares at Negan.

"Seems like it worked out for you. I dunno why you're fuckin' complainin'."

"Cuz I'm not selfish. I wanted her to by happy."

"And I'm selfish? For leaving behind the love of my fucking life just so I wouldn't get in the way of her and another man!? If anyone's selfish it's you! Throwing a fit because the girl you were too scared to admit your feelings to wanted me and not you."

You grab Daryl's wrist, pulling him back as he lunges forward at Negan. "Enough! This is too much. I can't - I can't deal with this right now." You cry as both men reach out to comfort you.

Negan lets out a long sigh. "Look, it's getting dark. And I know you're tired. Let's call it a night and sort this out tomorrow."

Daryl hesitantly nods, accepting Negan's offer when you look to him for an answer and you both follow Negan into the house. It's old and wooden and Negan's smell fills the air. Your heart aches at the thought of Negan here by himself all this time... he is here by himself right?

"Do you.. live here alone?" You ask, looking around for any signs of other company.

"Nah. Girlfriend should be back any minute."

You roll your eyes at the teasing tone of his voice, trying to hide your smile when he winks at you.

"Hungry?" He points behind himself to the kitchen.

"No.. thanks. Just tired."

"You two can take the bedroom.. I'll sleep out here on the couch. Just let me clean up and change first." Negan says before heading to his bedroom. "Make yourselves at home." He calls out before shutting his door.

Six months ago you were confessing your love for each other and having sex on your couch. Now he's offering up his bed to you and another man? Daryl rests his hand on your lower back and you turn around to hug him, laying your head on his chest.

"Daryl.. I want you to know you have nothing to worry about. We'll leave in the morning."

"Not worried." He reassures you by planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. He knows he is, but the last thing he wants is to put more stress and pressure on you right now.

Negan enters the room again, announcing his presence with an awkward clearing of his throat. "Room's ready. Changed the sheets."

Daryl leads the way, bumping past Negan rudely as he disappears into the master bathroom. You walk past Negan, brushing your hand against his before he gently wraps his hand around your wrist and looks down at you. "The idea of you in my bed with another man fucking infuriates me. Everything I do.. everything I did.. was for your happiness. Not mine... Just so you know." His hazel eyes fall to your lips for a moment before he slowly looks back up into your eyes. You restrain yourself from kissing him, remembering the way his soft lips felt against yours as his stubble pricked at your face. You can't deny you miss kissing him. Having long deep conversations with him.. Fucking him. All your memories together flow through your mind as you stare up at him.

"Are you happy with him, y/n?" Negan's eyes dart back and forth between yours.

"...Yes."

"Good..." He nods before walking away and you watch him sink to the couch as you enter his bedroom. You find Daryl already laying in bed and immediately climb in the bed behind him to comfort him. You know this must be difficult for him. You nuzzle your face into the back of his neck. "Baby.. I told you not to worry."

He doesn't say anything as you run your fingers comfortingly through his thick strands of hair. "I love you, Daryl."

"You love him too." He says matter-of-factly.

You don't respond, knowing you'd be lying if you tried to argue with him. So instead, you wrap your arm around him and settle into the sheets. The pillowcase smells like Negan as you shut your eyes and drift off quickly, dreaming of a world where you don't have to choose between the two men you'd die for.

As soon as Daryl hears your light snore, he slips out of bed, quietly finding his way into the living room where Negan is wide awake on the couch staring at the ceiling.

"We need to talk."

Negan's chest rises and falls as he lets out a long sigh. "Nothin' to say."

"Oh.. now you wanna stay quiet?"

"Now you wanna fuckin' talk?"

Daryl ignores Negan's comeback, sitting in a chair across from the couch. A long moment passes before Daryl finally speaks again.

"I know you love y/n. I know you've changed. But I'll never forget what you've done. When we came back to Alexandria and realized you were gone... I hoped you'd never come back."

Negan huffs, leaning back further into the couch before Daryl continues.

"Until I saw how much it broke her. She wouldn't eat. Wouldn't sleep. Unless I made her. Was so worried about her I couldn't let her outta my sight. You did that to her."

Negan gulps down, fighting back tears as he hears how much he hurt you.

"And for some stupid reason.. she still loves you."

Negan scoffs, shaking his head slightly before gazing back up at the ceiling. "...When Lucille passed, I knew I wouldn't be able to love anyone the way I loved her. Lucille was.. my everything. Hell, named a fuckin' baseball bat after her just so I wouldn't have to say goodbye... You know where that bat is now?"

Daryl grunts, waiting for Negan's answer. Negan's head nods towards the fireplace, as they watch the wood crack underneath the flames for awhile.

"I said goodbye to Lucille that day because I finally found someone I could be happy with again... When I made the decision to leave, that was for y/n. Not for me. I knew you'd be there to take my place, and I thought that's what she fuckin' wanted. But me? I didn't eat either. Didn't sleep. Worried about her every day. Still fuckin' do."

Daryl's head drops forward as his elbows rest on his knees, carefully taking in Negan's words.

"She misses you."

"Why are you tellin' me this?"

"Cause I want the same thing as you. Just want her to be happy."

"So what? You're.. giving her back to me?" Negan's head shakes sarcastically, mocking the idea.

"In your dreams.... What I'm sayin' is, we love her and she loves us. Why make her choose?"

Negan's nose scrunches as he looks to Daryl, sitting up now and leaning forward. "Wait, wait, wait. You're not serious. Are you seriously suggesting a... throuple?"

"Nah. I ain't gay." Daryl grunts. "It's not about me and you. Just her."

"Too bad. Thought you were finally comin' around." Negan raises his brows suggestively, making Daryl stand and roll his eyes annoyed. He stops at the bedroom door, looking back to Negan expectantly. "You comin'?"

They both quietly enter the bedroom and slide in bed on either side of you. Still asleep, you snuggle against the warm body in front of you, roaming your hand along his stomach before stopping suddenly, realizing it's not Daryl. Your eyes jolt open to meet Negan's gaze in the dim lit room as he smirks down at you.

"Wha-"

"It's okay, babe." Daryl whispers in your ear from behind.

"You still love me, baby?" Negan asks, tilting your chin up and hovering his lips over yours.

You answer him by pressing your lips to his, closing the small gap. You can't help the involuntary moan that escapes your mouth as you taste him again for the first time in so long.

Negan's hand cups the back of your neck, bringing you closer as he deepens the kiss and flicks his tongue against yours. His mouth opens slightly as a throaty groan escapes and you almost whimper at how turned on you are. Finally turning your attention to Daryl behind you, your arm reaches behind you to grip his hair and pull him in for a kiss. He kisses you back hungrily as his rough hand glides down the side of your body, tracing your curves before reaching your ass and firmly squeezing.

After a moment, you pull away from his mouth to adjust yourself, leaning up for a moment to remove your shirt and bra before laying flat on your back between the two of them.

You stare vacantly at the ceiling, blinking a few times as you attempt to wake yourself from the obvious dream you must be having. But to no avail, your men remain pressed against your body as they nip at your skin and tease you with their fingers.

Shifting lower in the bed, they both take a hardened nipple into their mouth, making your head push into the pillow below you as you bite your lip to suppress your moan.

Negan flicks his tongue lightly over the sensitive bud, while Daryl's lips suction around the other, sucking over and over. You can't hide your noises anymore as you let them hear what they are doing to you. "Ohh my god. Fuck... that feels good."

Negan grins, letting his teeth gently squeeze your nipple before lowering his hand. He easily pops open the button on your jeans before roughly pushing them down your legs. Daryl raises to his knees, helping you get your pants and underwear off your ankles until you're completely bare in front of them.

You've been with them both one on one on multiple occasions, but this feels.. much more intense with both of them at the same time.

As Daryl bends down, getting ready to position himself to eat your pussy, Negan stops him. "Look man, not tryna be selfish here. But I've been deprived of that pussy for way too long. So please, allow me." He pleads.

Daryl glares at Negan for a moment before finally moving out of his way and letting him devour your cunt. Negan's face is buried between your legs the second Daryl gives him the go ahead and your jaw lowers as you make an o-shape with your lips at how good his mouth feels. His stubble tickles your inner thighs while his tongue repeatedly flicks deep inside of you.

"Fuck!" He comes up for air, before pressing his nose to your hole and inhaling the smell of you. "Goddamn I missed this sweet pussy."

"Move." Daryl demands, taking Negan's place and tossing your legs over his shoulders. His fingers spread your pussy lips apart, allowing him better access to your clit and sucking it harshly, urging you to orgasm.

Your gaze is focused on Negan as he stands by the bed, quickly discarding his clothes.

"Daryl!" You moan his name as your orgasm rushes through you, letting your eyes stay locked on Negan's, hoping to bring out his possessive side. A smirk appears on Negan's face as he chuckles darkly, knowing you're trying to make him jealous.

Just as Daryl comes up for air, wiping your juices from his chin, the bed dips as Negan crawls over you, taking your lips in his.

"You tryin' to tease me, baby? Cause it's fuckin' working."

He kisses you rhythmically before pulling on your lower lip with teeth and grinning at you. While you're busy locking tongues with Negan, Daryl positions himself on his back beside you. "Come mere baby. Need you."

You roll over on top of Daryl, letting your knees rest on either side of him as you hover your wet opening over his hard length and slide down slowly and completely, filling your cunt to the brim as your head falls back in pleasure.

Negan settles in behind you, bumping his hard cock against your ass. His hand wraps around your long strands of hair as he pulls, bringing your head back further and exposing the front of your neck.

Chills run down your spine when Negan whispers throatily in your ear. "Think you can take us both sweetheart?"

You answer him with a frantic nod and he chuckles, biting at the sensitive spot behind your ear and making chills spread over your arms.

"Fuck. Bend over him. Now." Negan grunts, pushing your back until you're laying over Daryl with his cock still inside you.

Negan's hand spreads one of your ass cheeks as he leans back slightly, watching you slide up and down on Daryl's cock. "Goddamn. You are creaming all over his fuckin' dick, darlin'." Negan's thumb reaches out, gathering a line of your juices from Daryl's shaft and bringing it to his mouth. He groans at the taste, eyes rolling in the back of his head as he sucks his own thumb. "Fuck." He whispers, dropping his thumb to your tight asshole now and circling it slowly. "Where do you want me baby?" He asks, pushing this thumb through your tightness. You cry out at the unfamiliar feeling.

"In.. in my pussy." You whine.

"Yeah? Such a big girl, so confident that you can take two big cocks in your little cunt at the same time." Negan chuckles darkly, pulling his finger out of your ass and rubbing his tip through your folds from behind as Daryl's breathes loud and heavy while you ride him.

Negan's hand grips your waist tightly, holding you in place as he guides his cock to your already filled hole. He slides his tip along Daryl's length before ultimately pushing through and burying himself deep inside you. Daryl grunts, adjusting slightly at the feeling of Negan's dick against his own.

You cry out as your walls are stretched further than they've ever been, and the thought of your men rubbing their cocks together inside of you makes your stomach flutter.

"Oh my goddd." You cry, overwhelmed at the intensity of being so full. Not only are your walls stretched to their limit, but both of them are painfully deep. Pressure and heat build in your abdomen as you feel yourself embarrassingly close to coming already.

“Holy shit, feels so fuckin’ good.” Negan whimpers, dropping his head back heavily as he thrusts into you.

Daryl’s jaw clenches as he stares up at you through glazed over eyes. “Is it too much babe? Tell us to stop if you need-“

“No. Please. Please don’t stop.” You beg, crashing your lips against Daryl’s as you moan into his mouth. Negan brings his hand down roughly, smacking your ass cheek and making you yelp into Daryl’s mouth.

Negan grunts, grabbing the back of your hair possessively and pulling your back against his chest. Your head turns as he kisses your lips sloppily from the side, bringing his hand around to wrap firmly around your throat as his throaty whisper flows in your ear. “I might be willing to share, but kissing another man when I’m balls deep in this cunt? Not gonna fuckin’ happen, doll.”

From this angle, one of their tips press repeatedly into just the right spot, making your cheeks burn hot. And Negan’s filthy words are just what you need to send you over the edge.

"Daryl! ... Negan! Fuuuck." You scream out, feeling warm liquid rush out of you. Both men groan at the feeling of you soaking their cocks as Negan's moans become faster and louder and Daryl grows quieter - an indicator that he's close.

"Come in me..Please.” You breathe out.

"Who?" Both men say in unison.

"..Both."

"Can't hold it anymore. I'm comin' baby. I'm fuckin' coming. Ahhh, fuuuuck." He lets out a long groan, spilling deep inside of you.

Daryl groans at the intense feeling of yours and Negan’s warm liquids surrounding his cock. He bites his bottom lip as he shoots his load in you, following each pulse of his dick with a mix of raspy whimpers and moans.

Negan slides out of you as you lift yourself off Daryl, falling to the bed next to him. When Negan joins you on the other side, you lace your fingers in both of their hands as you lay there out of breath.

"What the hell just happened?" You chuckle, not able to hide the ridiculous smile on your face.

"We don't wanna make you choose. Just want you to be happy. If you want us both, you've got us."

"But.. that's.."

Negan leans in, kissing your cheek before settling into the sheets and closing his eyes. "There's no rules in the apocalypse, baby. Shoulda learned that a long time ago."

tagging my babies: @loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown@munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @dekuumademecumm @midnight-dixon @arthi-s

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan #jdmorgan #jdm x reader #negan fanfiction #twd negan #jdm fanfiction #negan smith #jeffrey dean morgan x reader #jdmfanfiction #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #daryl dixon #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl dixon imagine #twd daryl #negan twd #negan x reader #negan x you #negan smith x reader #the walking dead negan #negan x daryl #twd smut #daryl dixon smut #negan smut #negan smith smut #negan fanfic #negan fic

[darkbluekies]

Dr Kry asks #4

Previous one

Concept: I've put multiple asks into one post to avoid too much loose posts on my account! This way, you have more to read too<3

Warnings: mentions of ed, otherwise the normal Dr Kry stuff

I wonder how Dr Kry would feel if his darling developed romantic for him but was waiting to leave the hospital to officially ask him out. They'll say stuff like "I can't wait to leave this hospital bed so we can finally have a proper date together !",  "I would love to go see [movie name] in the theaters with you!" Or "I'd love to be with you but once I get better I promise! You deserve more than the semi-vegetable that I currently am." I guess he'd be a little conflicted, would he let his darling free from the hospital so they can have a somewhat normal romantic relationship or would he keep them here ?

He'd let his darling get well because he doesn't want anything else than the traditional house hold and only keeps them ill because they're not complient. But if they actually do like him and see a future together, then he can begin to live out his dream.

How would dr Kry react to a coworker reader who figures out he’s been telling people they’re dating and tries to leave him?

He'd be flustered. You weren't supposed to figure it out, you weren't supposed to know! He'd try to justify his actions while making you feel bad for leaving him.

"But Y/N, please, I'm doing it for you. If people think that we're together they'll not bother you. I've seen how people eye you in the corridor. It's disgusting. I'm just trying to help, so please don't leave. It hurts my feelings. I'm just trying to help ..."

He might say that you're pretending now, but he'll fake it til he makes it.

At this point I’ll let Dr kry talk for me,like yes please finish of my setences Cuase sometimes words are hard and it’s hard to speak so that sounds amazing

Careful, he will do it. As long as you're around other people, he'll finish your sentences, but he'd like for you to talk to him when you're alone. He loves to hear your voice so much.

I remember when you said that Dr Kry would worsen the toxic air purifier if we ignore him till it hurts too much, me personally I'm petty as hell, he'd have to see me DIE before I speak to him because thats what he gets, I'm petty to the death ✊

I- .... i don't know what to say.

My headcanon voice for Dr. Kry is Sammy Lawrence from Bendy and the Ink Machine.

Omg, you are so big brain. I would say his voice is a tad bit lighter in my head, but other that that, damn.

Does dr. Kry bathe reader or he only does if the reader is very sick?

He does it all the time. Since the reader is too weak and dizzy and everything from the poison 24/7, he doesn't trust them. They could hurt themselves in there. Besides, he likes being able to take care of the reader in every aspect. This is the closest he'll come to their nudity without it being uncomfortable for him.

Would Dr. Kry let the reader customize their hospital room if they asked nicely?

Of course! If he knows that they're okay with being there (and even fix the room to their liking) then it'll just make him happy!

do you think kry would treat darling differently if she has an ED and won’t eat much?i have an ED and just wanted to see how my favorite boy might take it :’) feel free to ignore lol

He will. Every action will be calculated and well thought out to make you calmer and more open to try to eat. He won't force you, but he'll encourage you. He's studied this, he knows how dangerous something like this can be. And that's why he wants to help you as much as possible.

Me whose been sick for 3 weeks with an awful cough and body pains. "Please dr kry come kidnap me..just wanna sleep and not work"Have been working weekends with my sick body because the boss doesn't give sick leave for flu

Careful, he will do it.

I love dr kry but he drinks coffee all the time so his breath probably STANKS. Hes a 10 but he has constant coffee breath.

Well DUH HE IS A COFFEIN ADDICT. don't bully him :(

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere doctor #yandere male #yandere asks

[jhoneybees]

Stutter

Lordy lord☝️

Hehehe another fic! This one is a John Carpenter fic and I hope you enjoy it!! I was watching the 'Change of Habit', movie yesterday and thought he's such a nice man😮‍💨 and here's a fun fact about me if anyone is interested is that I have a stutter! The reader in this fic has one as well! It's a pain in the a- @hooked-on-elvis for the tags !!

My brain is finally cooperating with me again but I don't wanna jinx it 🫣 And I'm sorry that a lot of my fics include crying, I just can't get enough of crying comfort fics😭

Characters: John Carpenter X stuttering!reader

Warnings/triggers: Doctor clinics, stuttering, crying

_____________________________________________

This week hasn't been going smoothly for you, and it’s all your stutter’s fault. One thing you couldn’t spit words out when a couple of ladies were asking you for directions to the nearest post office and then when you had to call the dentist to make an appointment, it tied your damn words down. It’s absolute torture and you were so fed up with it. You've had this speech impediment for as long as you can remember and everyday you wish it would just disappear, out of your life, away from your worries but you had to learn that it's only fair for each individual to have their own problems in their lives but you still thought about that wish of yours. Sometimes…Well daily it makes you cry thinking about how hard it is to deal with.

Something that helps your stutter though is John, John Carpenter, your beloved boyfriend. He's always been there for you whenever you want to pour all your concerns out, about anything your brain can think of. He’d always listen and you couldn't ask for any other guy than him, he's all you need. Just someone who would look past your evidently painful stutter and just patiently waits for your next words. He knows about your stutter and understands how hard it can be because he often works with people with problems like this and he has told you several times if you want help, he is always there but you just think John has enough on his plate of taking care of himself and his patients so having his girlfriend to take care of as well? In your brain it seems like it's too much for him. Yes John is a doctor and that’s his job to take care of others but oh you couldn't possibly burn your wonderful hard-working boyfriend out, you really couldn't bother him with your problems even though he wouldn’t mind at all and would be happy to help.

One afternoon, as you were sitting on the couch those worrying thoughts were constantly circling your mind and you just wanted them to go away so you decided to go to John's clinic for a visit, to get your mind off things.

As you arrive and open the door into the foyer, you peer through the window of the clinic door to see John talking to a patient, who you think is the last one for the day. Quietly you turn the door knob and make your way inside. John notices you walk in so he says goodbye to the patient and waves a hand to gesture for you to follow him. Taking you to his office for some privacy. “How's my girl doing hm?” he asks as he watches you close the door and hang your purse up on the cloak stand. You hum softly “Good, b-been good” silently sitting down on a chair opposite from his, brushing a strand behind your ear. John smiles, “Busy week?” You shake your head and lift your eyes up to look at his “N-no, p-pretty quiet this week…I-I- I didn't have a lot on my sched-..schedule” nodding his head he hums in response. “Aren't ya lucky… been crazy busy in the clinic this week” he sighs and snickers to himself.

You smile small and giggle slightly “Mhm, a-alot of..of- of sick people?” asking in a quiet tone. John chuckles “injured, mostly injured” nodding as your eyes trail down to the papers on his desk, the troubling thoughts crawling back into your head. “Mhm…” John's smile returns and his eyebrows furrow a little. “Something on your mind honey?” your eyes dart back up into his and you laugh nervously and brush it off “Oh no..N-no just- just tired ‘s all” giving him a small smile before you go back to your zoned out state. With his ankle resting on his knee and leaning back in his chair and his hand wiping under his nose, he watches you quietly. Seeing your eyes sadden and your arms resting at your sides, presuming you were twiddling with your thumbs under the table. “Ya sure you're tired?” Earning a silent nod. He stays silent for a few moments, continuing to watch as you sulk. “You don't look tired..” he states, you breathe in briefly and look at him “John, I am just tir-...” he raises an eyebrow making you sigh. “Fine I'm not tired” your posture slouches. John breathes out “What's ya thinking about baby?” tilting his head to the side, his eyes staying glued to your face. Looking down at your lap, you bite your lip gently “M-my…my s-s-stut-” you huff out being so sick of it, John nodding slowly “Take your time honey” you take in a deep breath and slowly break down the word “stut..ter, stutter”

It’s embarrassing, making tears well up in your eyes and you shyly wipe your nose. your breath trembling, “I-its annoying…it- it really is'' John's face softens and he leans his body closer, resting his arms on the desk. Humming softly, he listens as you tell him your woes. “I'm sick of it…s-so sick of it” your breath hitching quietly before an unexpected sob escapes your mouth.

“Aw honey…” you bury your face into your hands. John gets up from his chair and walks around his desk, shifting your chair to face him as he kneels on one knee. Clicking his tongue and prying your hands away to cup your cheeks. His eyes move from one eye to your other as you pitifully cry.

“I-it’s so annoying! E-every t-time I try to speak..i-it won’t let me!” you sniffle, John nods and hums then a small grin grows on his face “You’re speaking right now” he raises an eyebrow and snickers softly, you gently swat his shoulder “I meant speaking clearly!” you exclaim making John laugh louder “M’sorry I know what you mean darling, I know” his hands rest on your knees, caressing with his thumbs. You wipe your tears away with the back of your hands, sniffling one last time. John smiles “Want a hug?” he asks as he holds his arms out, you accept. Both standing up “ It really is a pain isn’t it?” he sighs, you nod quietly as you rest your head on his chest and wrap your arms around his waist.

John sighs again and kisses the top of your head, rubbing your back soothingly. Staying quiet for a while before John speaks up “Would a lollipop make you feel better?” to which you agree “mhm…” Pulling away, John walks back around to open a drawer to pick out a lollipop for him to walk back, holding it in front of you “Here..” you shyly take the sweet and attempt to open the wrapper, frowning in frustration. John shakes his head and chuckles again “I’ll get it” taking the lollipop out of your hand and with ease, he unwraps it. “Thank you” you say quietly. Pecking your forehead lightly, John admires you with love in his eyes.

“it’ll get better through time”

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis fans #70s elvis #60s elvis #elvis imagine #elvis presley x reader #i love him #change of habit #elvis fanfiction #elvis fandom

[minniiaa]

It is currently 5am and I woke up like 20 minutes ago, let's go lol

You know why I'm here, I kinda know why I'm here but that's besides the point anyways, thought of the day: Law becomes confident in their relationship and makes it exclusively Luffy's problem. Luffy thought that Law being confident about them would mean more PDA, more getting to tell their friends about the cute/hot things Law did that week, but no, Law only now doesn't push Luffy away when he kisses his cheek in public and if he asks, a proper kiss on the lips. A win is a win to Luffy though and he knows better by now than to try tearing down Law's metaphorical privacy screen in one go.

What DOES change, however, is that Law has become… insatiable when it's just the two of them. They definitely share a living space by now if you're thinking a modern au setting, which I am so that's all you're getting, and Law is a MENACE compared to before. Sure they would cuddle and Luffy was given free rein to kiss Law when and wherever in the confines of their home, but now Law's dragging Luffy into cuddling on the couch or back into bed while mumbling about 10 more minutes. Luffy thinks Law is sick when he pouts about Luffy not getting home at the time he said he would (he was 7 minutes late). While Luffy wishes he could get Law to put up with his PDA more, he's still over the moon about Law initiating intimacy more than before, makes him feel a lot more appreciated than he expected.

Now the sex. It almost scares Luffy, which has little differences to arousal for him, when Law starts being more vocal and outgoing during sex. Usually he had to fight Law on pulling his face away from pillows or teasing himself until he used his words to tell Luffy what he wanted, now Law was openly crying out for Luffy like he's reciting gospel and at the same time begging for him defile the temple Luffy worships. A week ago Law gave Luffy the dirtiest look for smacking his ass after Law refused to say Luffy's name, only calling him Mugiwara/Straw Hat out of spite, while like an hour ago Luffy found Law fingering himself while shamelessly moaning his name loud enough to hear from the doorway.

I'll be so real right now, I knocked out halfway through that last paragraph, what you see now is heavily edited because I was on some shit while half awake typing it the first time… the last one though I kept mostly original cause wtf was I on when I wrote “Now the sex.” 😭

-💫💀💫

NO BC YOU COOKED WITH THIS ONE ANON! I totally relate to the GRIPPING 5am thoughts.

I've been dying to write a one-shot with this premise, I started down this road of brainrot when I made a post about Law becoming a puppy boyfriend after years of dating Luffy and you just took it and RAN. The neurons are firing in my brain. I live for stories about them getting into relationships but one that they're already in a relationship and something changes is so fun.

I love this. Like Luffy is so used to being the one to seek out Law for affection when they're alone and Law has always given it to him, not overly so though, he always acts a little annoyed when Luffy throws himself at him or begs for cuddles when he's busy reading but he doesn't push him away. Law's just not a glutton for physical affection like him and Luffy accepts that. Law's an amazing boyfriend and it's enough for Luffy.

However, now the roles are reserved and Luffy is CONFUSED. Like don't get it twisted he is over the moon and would spend all day cuddled up with Law on the couch if he could. It's just such a drastic change, especially in bed. Luffy loves this new Law that is showing him his face and is so vocal and needy begging him for more and more until even Luffy is tired and that's saying something, it's what he's always hoped for. I think Luffy would faint from happiness if he discovered Law fingering himself and saying his name no joke.

Luffy is thrilled, albeit a bit confused and it feels so not like his Law, the one he's grown to love more than anyone in the world. He's not perfect, but he's perfect in Luffy's eyes. He wants to know why Law is suddenly so different from his normal self. Does he think he's more attractive? He looks in the mirror to see if maybe he looks different but no, he's just the same old Luffy. Maybe he just loves him more? It's great and all but why now?

I'm torn on the reasoning behind this (you should let me know your thoughts). I like the idea that Law just woke up and decided he doesn't care anymore. He knows better than anyone that life is too short and he wants to love Luffy the way that he's been wanting too deep down but he's been held back by his own insecurities even after all this time.

Maybe he had a nightmare after years of not having them and he dreams that Luffy died and there was nothing he could do. His patients are suddenly dying more than usual and Law is terrified that he's going to lose Luffy even though it's illogical. The only thing he can think to do is give him his body and soul (he already had it, but he wants to make sure Luffy knows he has it).

Whatever it is, they both like it a lot. Luffy gets all the physical affection he's ever wanted from Law and Law gets to finally be open and honest about his adoration for Luffy. They're more in love with each other than ever and everyone can see it even if Law still hasn't let up on his PDA barriers to the point they're asking if something happened. Both Law and Luffy reply "nothing" with stupid little smiles because nothing and something happened all at the same time.

Thanks for another fun ask, I love this odd anonymous brainrot sharing thing we have developed here. <3

(ps "Now the sex." is great and I would have loved to see your 5am brain chaos but the edited version is just as amazing!)

#one piece #lawlu #lulaw #lawlu headcanon #law #luffy #anon ask #asks #minni headcanons

[playertwotails]

Okay so this has been circling around in my head for like two weeks like a fly hitting windows in a sun-room.

So I'm back on my Tails kitsune AU bullshit and I've also recently gotten into Cult of the Lamb so now they've mashed in my brain into a hodgepodged gloop.

And it's all going below the cut if you wanna read my brain worms cause it's long

***Trigger warning for like blood and cults and kidnapping and drugging. Just to give people a heads up (nothing too graphic or detailed but just in case and let me know if you think I missed anything I might need to warn people about)****

Little side note before jumping into this: do not tag as shipping, there is no shipping here it's all platonic and familial. If I see a ship tag I will block you.

Starting off it doesn't matter if Tails is actually a kitsune or not (I personally prefer that yes he is just for the post situation of the gang all being like "okay so what species is Tails actually???" )

I've just had this idea in my head where some cult somewhere is started and they worship kitsune's as godlike entities. They then catch wind of Tails in the news or rumors and their target is now locked.

So this cults leader gets the 'big brain but head actually empty' idea to kidnap Tails like any sane cult leader would.

Now these people somehow stumble ass backwards into kidnapping Tails and keeping him contained. And by keeping him contained they're basically drugging Tails just enough he's conscious but nonreactive. And they basically dress him up and drag him to their ceremonies as more of object than a kid. Tails is hating it and actually scared cause what the hell is wrong with these people let him go home.

Meanwhile Sonic and the gang are all freaking out cause "WHERE IS HE??!!!!" Cause lets be honest kidnapped by a cult was not on any of their bingo cards and at this point they don't know that's what happened, they only know Tails is gone and none of the usual suspects have him.

Rouge starts going through her contacts on the side looking for any crumb of information and gets a lead. And in typical Rouge fashion splits off on her own to look into it. She then comes across the cult and infiltrates their compound.

During her snooping though she overhears the leader of the cult and his subordinates talking about "living forever through the blood of their god's mortal form", sees a statue of a multi-tailed fox and all the red flags are immediately up for her. Internal panic button is smashed. 2 + 2 = fucked up situation.

She's already pressing the "get your asses here" button on her communicator and tears off as quickly but quietly as she can looking for Tails. When she finds him he's in a locked room just laying in bed, all dressed up in a white outfit. Which strange for her to see him just laying there since normally he'd be out and gone long time ago She sees what they've been giving him next to the bed and she's now double pissed off. (I like to think it's at least been over a week Tails has been missing, but if you wanna get really angsty make about 6 months, just as long as Sonic was locked up in Forces).

As gently but quickly as she can she bundles up Tails and carries him cause at this point he's got so much in his system he can't walk or talk, blinking is kinda his only form of communication at the moment. To which Rouge doesn't know what's worse, for Tails to have been asleep for the whole time unaware or to be awake for the whole time and know what's happening.

Tails on the other hand is just so happy to see her and scared that he starts crying. Which is just breaking Rouge's heart to witness as she starts to backtrack out of there with him, with him just silently crying nonstop in her arms.

Unfortunately only about halfway to the exit they discover Tails is gone and the place starts going into lock down with cultist swarming the halls of the place. And even though Rouge is an excellent fighter, she's in close quarters with a kid who can't walk so she's quickly overrun by cultist who tie her up and take Tails back.

The leader then using all of his one brain cell figures she's already signaled to the other's where they are and he knows it's only a matter of time before the fastest thing on the planet busts their door down looking for his little brother.

The leader announces to the group they're moving up the ceremony to now much to Rouge's horror and they drag her along too kicking and screaming cause they don't have time to drop her off in a cell or anything.

Everyone is now in this big ceremony/chapel room that has a big stone table covered in white flowers, that suspiciously is the perfect size for an 8 year old fox to lay down on. And the leader does just that laying Tails on the table.

Rouge is throwing an absolute fit and cursing everyone out cause no way in hell is she gonna let this happen, it's to the point multiple people are having to hold her down even with her tied up cause she's kicking up such a storm of rage.

Meanwhile, Tails is mentally absolutely freaking out in a panic and is terrified out of his mind, especially when the leader brings out a large ornate knife and starts chanting something.

As the leader is finishing up and reeling back his hand with the knife Sonic busts in and sees all of this. Immediately rushing to the table just as the cult leader goes for the downswing.

Sonic just barely catches the knife about an inch from Tails' chest grabbing on to the blade of it and cutting his hand which drips onto Tails.

Now Sonic finally has a moment to process all of this and what exactly is happening and for obvious reasons he is beyond pissed off. He's probably not far off from turning into dark Sonic or it's creeping around the edges of him. And just as he's about to send the cult leader to meet his maker he glances at Tails' face and that's the only reason he doesn't kill the leader right then and there. Cause Sonic thought Tails was asleep but now he notices not only is Tails somewhat awake but tears are streaming down his face.

So Sonic does the next best thing in this situation, knocks out the leader in less than a second and just pulls Tails into a hug off the table and starts just sobbing with Tails in his lap curled up on the floor. Cause the horror of what about happened and the relief Tails is okay and he found him in time hits Sonic all at once.

The rest of the cultists are still frozen cause for Sonic, Tails and the leader all that happened in less than a minute and the group is still catching their bearings of everything that just happened. Which is a good thing cause in that moment everyone else catches up and runs into this whole scene.

From their perspective though they just see Sonic sobbing over a limp Tails with blood on his chest (from Sonic's hand but they don't know that), a guy knocked out (or possibly dead??) next to them, a big stone table that suspiciously looks like an alter also next to them, Rouge who is still cursing up a storm tied up in the corner and held down by like 5 people, and a room full of people in matching robes that look like the guy up near Sonic and Tails.

The rest of the group now splits off with Amy and Knuckles running over to Sonic and Tails, Shadow going for the leader on the ground, Omega going to help Rouge, and the rest of their friends they had helping them splitting off to take care of the rest of the cultists.

From here everything gets resolved, cultists and leader locked up, Tails getting what ever drugs they were giving him out of his system and going home and everyone somewhat going back to their lives. Sonic however does not leave Tails' side for a while and hovers around him which for the first few weeks Tails appreciates cause if he's honest he doesn't want Sonic to be far from him either after everything and really doesn't want to be alone for long. Tails get constant nightmares about the situation and is snuggling with his big brother almost every night. Which is great for Sonic cause he's also getting terrible nightmares from the ordeal and feels better when he wakes up and Tails is right there.

It does get to the point though where after a bit of recovery and time healing the mental scars Tails has to convince Sonic that he can be go back to running around and exploring without Tails right next to him. It takes a lot of convincing and scheduling regular check-ins (like 5x more than they previously had) but Sonic and Tails slowly get somewhat back to their normal lives.

If you wanna get angsty though have it so Sonic is just a second too slow in saving Tails and the fallout from that. (couldn't be me though I'm a hurt/comfort girly at heart, give me the angst but everyone's okayish in the end)

#miles tails prower #tails the fox #tails kitsune au #kitsune au #enjoy my brain worms #this has been eating away at all my other ideas for a while now #feel free to add on if you like just keep me in the loop #i might post the little comic I'm attempting to draw about that one scene at the altar with Sonic grabbing the knife #that scene is so vivid in my head #I've had bad art block and burnout for like 4 years now since coivd hit and my job got STRESSFUL (call center life sucked) #but I'm slowly trying to knock the rust off my skills #a whole art minor I have not used in a while #my drawing skills are like the Tinman in the Wizard of Oz #someone give me some oil so they move again

[painted-bees]

Weeeeeeee binge reading the Cortes blorbos to see if I missed anything (which I did lol, greatly enjoyed reading the new-to-me posts!) and I'm curious how Raf and Margie went from hey-come-crash-at-my-place to cool-I-live-here-now. also what was going through Margie's mind the first time she stayed at Raf's place? If he'd openly told her she could stay as long as she liked, how come she left before he came home from work? also did she talk about it at all at their next jam session?

(sorry for Wall of Text I didn't realize I had more questions until I started typing them out haha)

Yay!! I am so happy!! Thank you for going through all that Q vQ <3!!

In honesty once Raf realizes she's unhoused, and consequently invites her to crash at his place for the first time, he becomes kinda very "pspspsps🤌" to Magritte ever since, in effort to entice her to just--stay. Largely because he reads her as being very trusting, naive, and vulnerable, and really doesn't trust the world with someone like her. Magritte herself isn't as naive as she is in his imagination, and objectively, he does know that, but his brain naturally comes up with the worst-case scenarios for everything. Still, his paranoid nature also doesn't allow him to be wholly straightforward with her. He's unable to just tell her point blank "hey, make my place your own alright? I just want you to be safe." He can't, because if things ever go sideways and he suddenly wants her out, he wouldn't really be able to create that distance anymore without looking like kind of an asshole for doing so. So, he avoids making that commitment while trying to entice her to take it from him anyways.

It doesn't work lmao

Until this point, Raf has always been the 'skittish' one of the two of them, but when it comes to staying in once place for long, Magritte's own brand of protective skittishness emerges. And it's completely different from Raf's.

Magritte has become aware of the cycle that's repeated ever since she's started couch surfing and relying on the charity of friends + acquaintances. She's a fun, sweet, bubbly, cute person with a bit of a quirky vibe, and so things always start off fun and well enough. But inevitably, her presence becomes a strain. And her lack of contributions to the place she is staying at becomes a point of resentment. And justly so, she thinks. Try as she might, she's not a very clean or hygienic roommate--quite the opposite, to a degree that she knows should be more embarrassing to her than it for some reason is. Sporadic showering scheduel, forgotten plates of rotting food, unwashed clothing on the floor of her room for weeks...She leaves lights on, turns thermostats up too high, forgets to clean up after herself, when she does shower, she stays too long and uses up all the hot water. When asked to do favors, if she cannot preform them as soon as they are requested, there's a high likelihood she'll just forget to do them. None of these things on their own are a terrible deal-breaker...but when it's all of these things, often...and then the rent is due and the electricity and water bill is high, and Magritte's response is "Sorry, sorry! I can buy you lunch if that helps, I'm sorry!"--you know...it gets kind of...upsetting. And friends eventually come to resent her before they gather the courage to tell her that she's gotta find somewhere else to live for a while.

If she doesn't leave before things accumulate to that point, then she loses friends.

Raf has already proven that he's very protective/defensive about his space and his privacy. By the time Raf invites her to stay the night at his place, she's still trying to figure out his boundaries--and from her perspective, they seem to shift around a lot in unpredictable ways.

She likes the relationship she has with Raf. Their Thursday night jam sessions are the one thing she looks forward to the most every single week. She doesn't want to do anything to compromise that.

That first night Margie crashes in his guest bedroom, it's just really good timing and she's really happy to have a comfy, warm bed to sleep in. They get home some time around 1am, and both just...go to sleep almost as soon as they arrive at his apartment lmao. But she's awake as soon as she hears him up and about because she's worried that sleeping in will make her seem like a lazy, bad guest. Also, free coffee....... And they have a really nice, casual chat over breakfast about just...stuff haha.

Raf invites her to stay as long as she wants, but she leaves before he gets home because she doesn't...know when he'll be back, and what if she lost track of time and he comes home to a mess? What if she breaks something? What if she impulsively eats all the stuff in his fridge? What if the neighbors complain to him about the music?? She leaves his place shortly after he leaves for work, once the temperature warms up a bit outside. Because she not confident in her ability to take up only a 'polite' amount of space in his home. So she'd rather just--not.

And--she doesn't want to spend too many consecutive nights, because...then why wouldn't she just stay the whole day, too? How does she explain that she doesn't want him to dislike her for having the habits and manners of a gross little goblin creature? lmao

Raf's automatic assumption is that Margie doesn't like staying at his place cuz she just doesn't like his place. Maybe it's boring, maybe the smell of weed keeps her away lmao. But then he begins to realize how she literally won't do anything unless he's there to tell her she can. Like she's afraid to just make herself at home. And it's...fair. The few times she does attempt to own her space, his instinctive reaction is to point it out to her in one way or another, because the paranoia nips at his heels with "she's getting too comfortable". He's quick to correct himself or assure her it's fine, actually...but he gets annoyed at his own kneejerk responses.

Finally, after a few months of fruitlessly trying to encourage Magritte to treat his apartment as a place she can fall back on and stay in without worrying about imposing, Raf just...gives her a set of keys, "Here's your keys".

And Magritte slides them back over to him, "That's super sweet of you, but you'd get so sick of me, so fast haha."

Raf, a little stung by the outright rejection is just like, "Nah, I don't think so." and Magritte is like, "I know, but you gotta trust me."

She gives him the full lo-down on how this kinda thing has always gone in the past, her terrible domestic habits, her penchant for neglecting responsibilities and failing to deliver on favors. She can't even offer to contribute to rent in any reliable way, because her income and spending habits are so consistently inconsistent that she can't even promise herself that she'll eat two to three meals a day.

There are other people and facilities that she can lean on that would hurt her less if they decided they had enough of her.

She really, really, really doesn't want to screw things up with Raf. She likes hanging out with him. She doesn't want him to grow sick and resentful of her. In an effort to lighten the subject, she concludes it with "yanno, too much of a good thing, haha."

Raf has never wanted to scrunch someone up into a little ball and slam dunk them into a warm, cozy, protective little pillow fort so badly in his entire gd life lmao For someone who is so paranoid of being taken advantage of, he's really taken off guard by this kind of...idk, preserving refusal? On one hand, it's a really considerate gift, an expression of "I like you, not the favors and resources I can extract from you" he's never really had to navigate before. On the other hand, wrt the situation, it's extremely fucking frustrating lmao.

Raf admits that he worries about her probably more than he ought to, and he'd really appreciate it if she could just...oblige him on this. He promises to tell her if he ever feels like he'd prefer to have his space back, and that he'd do so well before it ever risks compromising their friendship. Because just as much as she likes hanging out and playing music with him, he enjoys it, too. It's not just her who's worried about ruining a good thing. "Just stay. One month, and and we can see how we're feeling about it after that. If it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out and we can still meet up to jam every week. But, if you stay here, we can play music any day we want."

She might have refused if he hadn't thrown in that last line.

#Hi-Note #rafael #magritte

[cleolinda]

Weekend links

My posts

I have been amorphously unwell (migraines, dizziness, aches) this week, which is super great. I am, in fact, daunted by the complexities and unknowns.

See "Personal tag of the week" at the bottom for updates on the Tumblr happenings.

Reblogs of interest

Thousands of Israelis protest in Tel Aviv, demanding a hostage release/ceasefire deal and new elections.

I never know how to segue from a serious news item.

Theseus liveblogs the labyrinth, and it’s heartbreaking.

Before hbomberguy was going after plagiarism, he was playing Donkey Kong for trans rights.

“to touch is to interact, and when you put your hand on your dog the universe does not know that you are separate”

The universe knows you are separate from this cat’s Absolute Terror Field

Cats named Pigeon

The most dramatic cat

Figure out what starts your engine and ride the waves of your brain

This is not van fundamentalism

Lawful good werebears

The Godmother is not committed to the kindness

Escape room employees reveal the worst, or best, things they’ve seen on the job.

“So I explained to him the story of ‘Alice’s Restaurant,’ and he began to get MAD”

It seems that y’all do not understand that the Better Call Saul ads are just how we live in the US, and that I pass five Alexander Shunnarah billboards just to get a quesadilla. 

1) Don’t take your native animals for granted. 2) This jay is the bluebird of happiness, apparently.

Wisdom from a Tumblr longtimer

Benign chain posts: the Money Garf

Video

Every now and then I fall apaaaaaart

Click through for a massive gothic rock playlist on YouTube

It’s a great dance contest entry--but then they tell you it’s also randomly-paired improv

Capybara capybara (capybara)

The sacred texts

You have not seen a sacred internet text until you have seen the Lolrus (2006)

Personal tag of the week

“the happenings” is my tag for all internet platform bullshit. This week, it’s Tumblr, as CEO Matt Mullenweg lost his shit and started harassing a trans user (including on another platform). This is a factual explanation early in the week of what happened and how it started: 

predstrogen (the first blog) was allegedly deleted for “sexually explicit material” despite any posts that may have been labelled as such being marked with a community label and her blog recently being manually approved as NOT containing adult content. she also talks in this post, as well as here, about how she has had a support ticket open for several months for harassment she was receiving that has not been dealt with

the CEO of tumblr made a post wherin he publicly aired information regarding her deletion and threatened legal action against her , showing examples of the alleged death threats where no actual threats were made and telling people in the replies to just leave if they were unhappy with the moderation of the site

Specifically, he was upset by the expressed wish that he perish in a car covered in hammers that would explode multiple times, a serious threat that could surely come to fruition in reality. If you can't tell that I'm being sarcastic, congratulations, you're CEO material.

It spiraled from there, but suffice it to say, it ended with trans employees posting on the Staff account (reblog here with commentaries):

The reality of predstrogen’s suspension was not accurately conveyed, and made it seem like we were reaching for opportunities to ban trans feminine people on the platform. This is not the case. The example comment shared in the post linked above does not meet our definition of a realistic threat of violence, and was not the deciding factor in the account suspension. Matt thereafter failed to recognize the harm to the community as a result of this suspension. Matt does not speak on behalf of the LGBTQ+ people who help run Tumblr or Automattic, and we were not consulted in the construction of a response to these events.

While the post is sincerely emotional and brave, the real chess move is this part:

We appreciate the space we have been given to express our concerns and dissent, and we are thankful that Matt’s (and Automattic’s) strong commitment to freedom of expression has facilitated it. We will continue to fight to make Tumblr safe for us all.

Matt Mullenweg now either has to nod and go, “Yeah, yeah... I’m a great guy committed to freedom...” Or he can, I don’t know, shut the site down in a fit of defiant pique? All I’m going to say about this is that the day all this first went down, I started archiving any posts I’d put significant effort into last year, and I’ll be crossposting them on Dreamwidth and Patreon. I don’t want to lose Tumblr’s culture and unique platform--I mean, I think the Weekend Links themselves make a case for the fact that there is nothing else like Tumblr on the internet. And shutting down is not even necessarily the most likely outcome--but I’m not gonna be caught unprepared, either. 

#weekend links #odds and ends #linkspam #the happenings #tumblr

[butcherlarry]

Weekly Fic (and Meat) Recs 60

I'M BACK! I had a lovely time on PTO! I went home, visited with family, visited with the cattle, celebrated my birthday, attended a banquet, got a wicked sharp meat cleaver (very excited about this), visited a new arboretum, saw birds, took pictures of birds, and survived the solar eclipse! All and all, a good time all around :) Got some reading done too, so there are fic recs from what I read last week and this week on this list. Also, a meat 101 lesson at the end, USDA beef quality grades edition!

The Brothers Wayne by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas) - Superbat, wip. An update to the Bruce and Wade Wilson are brothers fic. Some family bonding between the brothers, the only way siblings know how. Beating the shit out of each other :)

Fresh Wounds (Still Cut Deep) by Inkwell1013 - Batfam, complete. A fic inspired by this art from sully-s. Alfred taking care of a newly orphaned Bruce and having no clue what he's doing (except his best).

dead man's party by TheResurrectionist - Batfam, wip. An update to Jason sees ghosts fic (while being haunted by Martha Wayne)

Patroclus by widow_account - Superbat, complete. I shrieked when I saw this fic was completed! I need to go back and reread it again in it's completed glory. Clark is kidnapped and sent to War World to fight. Bruce saves him. Much feels are involved too.

They Also Serve by Ginevra_Benci - Batfam, complete. Alfred wakes up to a surprise, Bruce kidnapping adopting a small angry child (Dick).

Precedent by Cdephiki - Batfam, complete. Damian joins the family early AU! The second fic in the series. This story is about Jason joining the family.

Padam by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas) - Superbat, wip. More of college Clark at a gay club. Bruce Wayne has entered the chat :)

Just A Little Bit... by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas) - Superbat, wip. More of eldritch Bruce and alien Clark! A plan is in the making to infiltrate Cadmus. Jason and Dick visit Ivy to ask for help

Unreasonable Love by elizabethgee - Superbat, wip. Bruce and Clark start dating and it is found out by the media. This wouldn't be too much of a problem except the fact that this awakens something in Clark's Kryptonian brain and he gets a little possessive protective of his mate boyfriend :)

shiftwork by TheResurrectionist - Bruce Wayne, complete. A neat fic from an outsider's point of view! Bruce visits one of Wanye Enterprise's worksites.

Oh Can't You See What Love Has Done (What it's Doing to Me?) by dio_icaurtica - Superbat, complete. A fic inspired by this post from frownyalfred!

Patchwork Pod by Ktkat9 - Superbat, Batfam, Superfam, wip. More of the mer Bruce fic! Tim and Bruce are recovering from their injuries.

Azure Catching the Moonlight by RenaiRin - Superbat, wip. Superman gets hit with some pink kryptonite. Be sure to read the tags! :D

Show Me How to Lie (You're Getting Better All The Time) by BookwormByNight - Superbat, wip. A Superman from an other universe shows up in the watchtower. He doesn't want to leave and takes a special interest in Bruce for some reason :)

Bruce Doing Mundane Things by aesthetic_pleasure - Superbat, wip. Exactly what it says in the title. Bruce does mundane things and Clark enjoys watching him do them.

Happy reading!

And now, as promised above:

BEEF QUALITY GRADING 101!

Since I live in the USA, my experience with beef quality grading is with the USDA standards. But, most of these rules (kinda) apply to other countries, they might just have different standards of what carcasses make it into what quality grades (for fun, look up USDA beef marbling cards and then Japanese beef quality grading cards. Marbling that would be acceptable for high quality beef in the US would be considered lower quality in Japan!)

What are USDA beef quality grades? Have you ever been in the grocery store, looked at a package of beef steaks (ribeye, sirloin, strip loin, filets, etc.) and saw a sticker on the package that said "USDA PRIME" or "USDA CHOICE"? That's the beef's quality grade! It determines the worth of the carcass. That, in combination with the Yield Grade (how much sellable meat can a processor/retailer/etc. can get off the carcass) gives you the overall price of the carcass.

There are two major factors that go into determining the quality grade of a carcass, the marbling and the maturity. Marbling is the intramuscular fat (fat inside of the muscle). Since marbling contributes to flavor and tenderness, more marbling is better! Below are the USDA marbling standards for beef carcasses:

The other factor is the maturity of the carcass. This is determined by looking at the ossification (cartilage turning into bone) of the dorsal processes (the long spiny fingers along the back bone) along the spine of the carcass. Look at the cartilage caps in the green boxes in the picture below:

The one on the far left is very white. If you were to scratch it with your fingernail, it would feel smooth. This would be considered an young carcass, or "A" maturity. The more those caps fill with bone, the older the carcass. The one on the far right has those caps completely filled with bone, so that would be considered and older carcasses, or "D" maturity. When a carcass passes into "C" maturity (like the one in the middle), that carcass can no longer be graded in to the higher priced quality grades (USDA Standard to Prime).

The maturity matters because as the animal gets older, they develop more connective tissue in the muscles. This decreases the tenderness of the meat, and consumers don't want to pay more money for tough meat. This is also why meat coming out of the middle of the carcass (along the back, so ribeye and loin) are more expensive. Those muscles have less connective tissue, so they are more tender. The tenderloin (Impress your friends by calling it by it's scientific name, psoas major!) is the most tender muscle on the carcass, so that's why it tends to be the most expensive.

Below is a chart showing what maturities and marbling scores are needed to reach what quality grade. For example, a carcass with "B" maturity and "Modest" marbling would be graded as USDA Choice.

USDA Prime is the highest quality grade a carcass can receive (well, actually USDA High Prime, but I can go more into how that's determined if someone asks about it). The lowest qualty grade you see in a retail store would be USDA Standard. The USDA Commercal, Utility, Cutter, and in the verrrrryyyy tiny corner in the bottom right is Canner. These grades are given to older animals, like old cows and bulls. USDA Commercial might be sold whole muscle (boneless) in restaurants after it has been enhanced (pumped with water, salt, sugar brine to make the meat more flavorful and tender). Otherwise, these carcasses that are lower quality grades are ground up for ground beef! Nothing more tender than ground beef! They can also get canned for canned beef. I have had many delicious meals of beef and noodles from canned beef from my family's herd 😋

As I mentioned before, this quality grade, along with the yield grade, determines the price of the carcass. If you want to check those out, click the link below:

USDA AMS daily beef reports

The report for beef carcass price per hundred weight is the second link down, called "Beef Carcass Price Equivalent Index Value". The USDA Agricultural Marketing Service always has these reports and they are always updating them each day. You will see price fluctuations throughout the year. I looks like for April 12th, the most valuable carcass for that day is a carcass that grades USDA Prime, with a Yield Grade of 1-3, and a hcw (hot carcass weight) of 600-900 lbs. A carcass that hit those standards will get you $297.92 per hundred weight (every 100 lbs, you get that much amount of money). So, a 800 lb carcass that is USDA Prime, Yield Grade 3 is worth $2383.36. This would be considered very rare though. Most carcasses in the US are grading USDA Choice, Yield Grades 1-3.

Anyway! I hope you enjoyed that Beef Grading 101! If you have any questions, feel free to send me an ask! I love discussing this!

#weekly fic recs #fic rec list #fic rec #fic recs #fanfic recs #fanfiction recs #fanfiction reccomendations #superbat #batman #bruce wayne #batfam #superman #clark kent #USDA beef quality grading #I used to judge the carcass shows of a lot of county fairs in the state i grew up in while in college #plus i was on and coached my university's meats judging team #so i got to talk about beef quality a lot #and do a lot of beef quality grading #:)

[hiperacid2]

A letter from one's aching heart.

╰┈➤ nanami kento x reader ･ﾟﾟ･｡ wc: ~600

╰┈➤ post shibuya 2018 incident, spoilers for the recent s2 ep (18), gender neutral!reader, angst, mostly hurt/small amounts of comfort, grief, unedited . ･ﾟﾟ･｡posted on ao3!! ･ﾟﾟ･｡ @bitchcraftinc ੈ♡˳

"I've lived and I've loved, I've drank bitter and cold coffee, and I've drunk it warm and sweet too. Lately the world lost its color, and with it the respite of love went away. Maybe it's still there, in the way I still cook, make coffee, load the laundry, buy takeout, and more; everything for two. I keep forgetting I'm going to wake up in an empty, cold bed, that my towels won't ever be warm again when I get out of the shower; sometimes I speak waiting for a response, but what answers me is the silence of a hollow house. I keep saying 'I'm home!' with a smile every once in a while, but then again, hollowness is all I get back. Sometimes I wonder if things could be different, if we could have had an eternity of warm embraces and late sunday mornings. Wondering is futile, you taught me that, what matters is the present, the now. There's days where I buy myself a flower bouquet and put it in your favorite vase, the one that I think is boring and dull, and other days I treat myself to a dinner date, always pouring something for you too; I hope you're enjoying that. Don't worry about me, I'm doing good, it seems I was prepared to live without you, it's so hard, but I'm doing good. Though I loathe the day your clothes stop having your smell, I keep spraying your cologne in your pillow, hoping that the smell brands itself in my brain. I've had no luck yet, maybe if I try harder I will achieve it. I hope you forgive me, but I made one of your ties my lucky charm that I tied to my bag, and I had to cut it in half, with the rest I made a bracelet which I use almost every day, hoping to have a piece of you with me always, at least physically. Maybe I will adopt that little kitten, the one you insisted I should stop feeding. His mama vanished, and he's doing relatively good by itself. But I have all this love inside me that is for you, overflowing and drowning me; it seems to like the charm made out of your tie because they always play with it when I put my bag down. Even when you're not around you still are a magnet of strays. …I am making this longer than I planned, maybe I will write you another letter next week, or when I feel ready. I hope you don't mind the ink a little smudged because I'm crying. With love, always and forever, until we meet in another life, Kento."

You carefully folded the letter, chest full of sobs and tears completely clouding your vision. Nestling the pen you just used against your chest carefully, it's weight heavy in your hands, is Nanami's favorite.

After calming down enough to move, you take the folded paper and move it next to the plain cream vase that now holds half wilted flowers, leaving it there, with the pen over it as a weight.

Grabbing your bag as you take a tissue from beside the door, you put on your shoes. The keys on the door jingle, a solitary keychain with now no pair dances. Closing the door, your next destination is the pet store, the kitten is going to need a lot of new things… absentmindedly you wonder what name would suit them as the sounds of the city engulf you.

╰┈➤ a/n: this has been rotting in my docs since SEPTEMBER !! i'm so happy to finally release it here into the wild, it's not much but im thinking about grief and him allllllll the time. thank u for reading!! ♡

reblogs are greatly appreciated

#nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader

[starstruckkittensweets]

chapter one

Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: Dabi x Reader Words: 6.2k

A/N: The first chapter of my lil Dabi passion project. Partially inspired by "Haunting Adeline" (awesome book but PLEASE heed the warnings in it). The full list of warnings is included in the main masterlist, but individual ones will be posted at the beginning of each chapter. Also this is my first time writing from both Reader and Dabi's perspective, so I hope it's not too bad. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only (minors DNI), explicit language, mentions of arson, mentions of violence, stalking, breaking and entering, working in retail (I'm sorry), Reader lives in a cute lil house in the middle of the woods, Reader also has 3 plushies (that all have names, because I'm a dork)

"Kerosene and Butterflies" Masterlist

It’s raining again, for the fourth day in a row. Barely any light to work with at the little workspace you’ve made for yourself at the kitchen table. So instead you rest your hands on your arms, watching the rain patter against the window panes. Pen and paper pushed away and left forgotten on the surface.

Rain always makes you feel nice. Not happy or sad, just nice. Gives you something to look at, the sound mindless enough to put you at ease. Soft and warm, more often than not lulling you to sleep with its voice. It’s hard to explain, but it seems to make sense in your mind.

Your phone lights up on the table with a text. It’s your mother again, sending her weekly check-in text. Even though you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself and living on your own. But it’s more for her than you; you think it helps her cope with one of her kids living abroad, so far out of her reach.

Well, that’s what enticed you about this house in the first place, but you’ll never tell her that.

With a yawn you grab your phone and send a quick reply. Yes you’re okay, you’re getting enough sleep, you miss her home cooked meals. Call her tomorrow, put her mind at ease. Buy another few days of freedom before the cycle inevitably repeats itself.

When you finish and place your phone back down, you give the paper and pen one last look. Maybe you could try one more time, see if anything comes to mind?

Your chest deflates at the thought. No, the spark is long gone. Try again a different day, get some sleep for now. You need it.

You can almost hear it laughing at you, the uncapped pen lying dangerously close to its blank skin. You’ve been hearing it for the last hour or so, wracking your brain to come up with something, anything. Words, ideas, or even bullet points you can just jot down in your chicken scratch handwriting. Just a sliver of something to get those creative juices flowing.

But your eyelids are already drooping, the rainy weather not helping you one bit. Your brain feels like it’s all dried up, giving you a never-ending headache. Telling you that you’ve already reached your peak; that nothing else you make will ever come close to how you want it to come out.

Oh well. Tomorrow’s another day, right?

But you know damn well you’ll be back to square one tomorrow night, when you get home from work. Staring at that blank page with your head in your hands, praying for the words to come. For the inspiration to strike—to make you feel anything other than this.

At least the paper’s still good, maybe you can use it for a shopping list later in the week. That way it’ll get some good use out of it.

Your job isn’t exactly the flashiest; definitely not what you envisioned yourself doing at twenty-four years old. Working at a dead-end department store in the shady part of town, along with four or five other people—and none of them are close to you in age. But it keeps the bills paid and food in your fridge, so you guess it’s not as bad as it could be. You could do without the annoying entitled customers, though.

At least your shift stretches into the latter half of the day, meaning you only have to deal with them for about four hours, five tops if you end up taking your lunch break late. Then the store closes, the customers are ushered out, and you spend the rest of your time stocking the shelves and getting ready for the next busy day.

Most nights the store’s already empty, with only a handful of customers roaming the aisles. That gives you some extra time to start stocking; you prefer putting stuff back on the shelves rather than ringing on register anyways. Register gets boring and repetitive fast, but working on the floor always gives you something new to do.

“Excuse me, where can I find the laundry detergent?”

“Down the next aisle and to your left, all the way down at number twenty-four.”

“Where’s the soup and all the instant meals?”            

“Right over here actually, on the middle shelf.”

“You have any beer?”

“Last aisle down, all the way to the end. You’ll see the freezer straight ahead.”

Every interaction gives you a rush of excitement, as sad as it sounds. In all honesty, your job isn’t the complete worst. Most customers are fine and even pleasant to deal with, and it always makes you feel good when you’re able to help them find something on their lists. Besides, it tests your knowledge of the store, almost like a matching game; after three years of working in the same place, you pretty much know it like the back of your hand.

Tonight seems like one of those lazy nights, with only a couple customers roaming through the aisles, the lone cashier at the registers looking like he’s about to fall asleep. You’re sorting through the grocery bin at the front (either what customers decided they didn’t want, or items found randomly throughout the store). There’s quite a bit today, must’ve been pretty busy earlier in the day.

It doesn’t take long to put the shelf-ready stuff into a cart and trek down to the grocery section. Most of it is candy anyways, which is in the first couple aisles. One item after another, until you start to see the bottom of the cart.

You step back from the shelf, a handful of candy bars clenched between your fingers, when your back suddenly collides into something—or someone, judging by the grunt they let out.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean that, I should really watch where I’m going, I’m really sorry about that—”

The words die right there on your tongue as you glance up at the person. You can barely see his face behind the dark mask over his mouth and his hood pulled over his hair. But something catches your eye—something dark and heavy beneath his eyes.

He’s got some serious bags under his eyes, poor guy must be working himself to death. Must be a college student, you know how it feels.

Wait a minute…bags?

Your head begins to buzz. You don’t think you’ve ever seen bags bad enough to leave the skin so…wrinkled. Almost like they’re—

But he’s already walking away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. Head hanging low and shoulders tense as he disappears down the next aisle.

It’s not until another customer asks you where the hand soap is, that you remember to blink—and breathe. It takes a bit of effort, but you manage to give them the right aisle across the store. But then you’re staring off into space once more, thinking about the strange person in the black hoodie and mask.

Dark patches under his eyes… Could it really be…?

No way, stop thinking like that. You know where your mind is going, don’t you dare entertain the thought.

You shake your head. You’re being ridiculous. It’s getting late, anyway. You didn’t get that much sleep last night to begin with, it’s early to bed when you get home later tonight.

You file the last of the candy in its proper home on the shelf before heading down the main path towards the registers. Pet food, paper goods, detergent, body wash… A couple aisles here and there for every department. You should check and see if there’s any chemicals up front that need to go back on the shelf. Probably the easiest department for you to handle, other than food and appliances—

Your jaw drops when you turn the corner and come face-to-face with the dark stranger from earlier. Staring down at you with those dark eyes—no, the patches are dark, his eyes are actually quite bright, and oh my fucking God they’re blue—

There’s something sticking out of his pocket—the red and white label of a box of Band-Aids. And that’s not the only thing in there, judging by the awkward bulges and pointy corners. Maybe some extra medicine or painkillers.

You glance back up at him. Neither of you make any move to leave.

“…I won’t tell if you won’t.”

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. All you can think about is how this little corner of the store lacks any functioning security cameras, and how it’s probably only a few dollars, it won’t necessarily put the store out of business if he gets away with it. Just this one time. No one has to know, except the two of you.  

He’s glaring now, probably curling his lip at you from behind the mask. You swallow the growing lump in your throat, your heart throbbing furiously against your ribcage.

“Can…I get you anything else?”

“Fuck off.”

He shoves his way past you, shoulder nearly knocking you on your ass. Your throat runs dry as his words echo in your ears, his voice sending chills down your spine.

You know him, but from where? You know his voice, his looks—but why can’t you remember him?

You glance over your shoulder but he’s already gone, most likely heading towards the exit. Not like you’re gonna stop him.

Still, you can’t get your little encounter out of your mind, even as you try to busy yourself with your work. Not even ten minutes pass by before you grab another box of bandages and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, mumbling to your coworker, “Store use, I’ll claim it out when I get back,” all the while feigning injury as you cradle your wrist against your chest (where a small pack of cotton balls is pressed between your fingers).

The back of the store leads out to the dumpsters in the back alley. A prime spot for smoke breaks, despite smelling like absolute crap. Chalk marks and spray paint decorating the walls, trash bags spilling out of the dumpsters in the corner. You clutch the supplies to your chest, head swinging wildly in search of the stranger.

But there’s no one out there. He’s gone for good this time—and for some reason, you can’t explain the sudden ache in your chest.

You don’t know what makes you leave the bandages and alcohol in the corner of the alley, hidden by the shadow of the dumpsters. Or why there’s a pang in the pit of your stomach, as you remember how bright his blue eyes looked.

Here’s a tip for any aspiring writers out there: get comfortable with constantly going on the internet. Whether it’s looking for an obscure random fact about Victorian houses in the 1800s or learning just how long it takes to recover from a bullet wound in the shoulder, search engines like Google will become your best friend. It won’t always provide the most accurate information, but it’s a start to get the ball rolling.

But this particular search doesn’t stem from a story in your drafts; all you can see are those mysterious blue eyes from the store, and the dark wrinkled patches beneath them.

It doesn’t take long at all to find your answer: a thread of articles and blurry photos of the infamous League of Villains—the same ones that have been terrorizing the country for the past year or so. Casualties, crimes, and even past victims. Every word brings another wave of goosebumps, but you can’t tear your eyes away.

Of course. That’s where you knew him from. Makes sense now.

There’s a handful of people in the photos, each one more terrifying than the last. A young girl with a feral smile, associated with a string of murders involving severe blood loss. A man capable of decaying anything with just a brush of his fingers. And the same stranger you saw in the store, known for over thirty murders and thousands in property damage, all thanks to those dangerous blue flames.

You slam the laptop shut and suppress a shiver. What were you thinking? Acting so casual with a villain—you knew you recognized those eyes somewhere—and oh my God, were you really going to try to meet him outside at the back?

And for what? Some bandages that he’d clearly already stolen? Hell, you’d let him walk away even when you knew he was planning on stealing them!

Hopefully your boss never finds out about that.

You glance out the window of your living room, pulling the lapels of your jacket closer to your chest. The door’s locked, the windows are latched, and the curtains are closed. Nothing out there but the trees and the moon and the gentle rainfall.

Calm down. Why would he come after you? You didn’t do anything to piss him off, did you? So what makes you think he’d try to figure out where you lived? What would he have to gain from that?

Still, you triple check the lock on the door, before moving backwards towards your bedroom. Also clicking the lock into place once you’re safe inside.

A villain. You can’t believe you came across an actual villain.

Villains were a common presence even back home, and you knew before moving abroad there was a possibility you could encounter some of them. But they always kept to the shadows, staying out of the spotlight for as long as they could. Only showing up in cities far away from your own. You’ve never come face to face with one of them, never been so fucking close to one of them before—

You crawl into bed and throw the covers over your head. Trying to focus on the pitter patter of the rain against the windows.

But you can’t get those images out of your mind. No matter how hard you squeeze your eyes shut, or bury your face into the pillow, you can still see his face. Those horrid wrinkled patches beneath his eyes. The same shade of blue as the flames from his palms. The way he looked at you as though you were nothing but a smear of dirt on the bottom of his boot.

He could’ve burned you right then and there.

You don’t fall asleep easily that night.

Despite your paranoia, the next few days go by without any issue. Work, errands, go back home. Your life continues just as it did before you met that crazy villain—and knowing that, you can breathe a little easier when you rest your head on your pillow for the night.

The little pile of medicine and supplies you’d left in the back alley had disappeared the next morning. Someone else had probably picked them up, who could say no to free medical supplies? There’s a slim chance that villain came back and took them for himself.

You know it’s a long shot. And yet there’s still some part of you that clings to it, wondering if he’s still sticking around this part of town.

Come on, what’s wrong with you? Are you really that eager to put your life in danger like that?

The rational part of your brain says no. But there’s another part, a much more vocal part of your brain, that can’t stop thinking about your little encounter. And what you would’ve done if he’d been in that alley that night.

Probably cry your eyes out. Then get killed like the dumbass you are.

Still, no matter what you do or what you try to focus on instead, he keeps coming back to your mind. And you find yourself visiting those damn websites, those stupid forums night after night when you get home from work, speculating just who he might be beneath those painful scars and bright blue flames.

What kind of life did he lead before joining the League? Does he have any regrets about becoming a villain? Does he actually enjoy being on the run like this?

It’s only when you’re lying wide awake in bed at close to two in the morning, still worn out from a long day at work that the more innocent questions start to plague your mind:

What’s his favorite color? Is it blue, or does he actually hate it? When is his birthday? Does he have any friends, either before he became a villain, or anyone in the League? You wonder, what’s his real name?

“Why am I even thinking about this? Not like I’m ever gonna see him again…” And you should be grateful for that.

But there’s still an ache in your chest, an awkward swirl in your stomach, every time you remind yourself of that simple little fact. And you don’t really know what to make of it.

Another hour passes before you push yourself out of bed and right to your desk in the corner. Grabbing one of the little notebooks you’d bought for story notes and ideas, but haven’t really touched in the last few months. Sliding into the seat with a sigh and clicking open one of the many black pens from the drawer at your side. Flicking on the small desk lamp and squinting against the sudden brightness.

It’s not uncommon for the inspiration to hit at ungodly hours of the morning. Honestly, you do your best writing between midnight and six a.m.; the only drawback is being unable to stay awake at work the next day. But at least you have some damn good writing to show for it.

But that hasn’t happened for months now. Not since you moved and started working nights. Now you have to hit the hay almost as soon as you come home, if you want any chance of a normal sleep schedule.

The pen moves on its own. Every breath brings another word on the page. Ink starts to smudge the side of your hand.

They appear in front of you: all the questions circling around in your mind, begging to be answered. The honest, the childish, even questions you think of on the spot. Anything and everything you would ask him if you were ever given the chance.

What are you doing? You should be in bed trying to sleep. Not doing…whatever this is.

You swallow hard as a single word appears before you: Dabi.

And immediately you start to shiver, your cheeks growing warm beneath the scathing looks of the ink and pages.

You’ve always had a strange complex when it comes to writing out people’s names. They’re much easier to speak out in your mind, or even say verbally. But once you write them out, it becomes almost final. It’s different to actually see those letters right in front of you, rather than just imagining them in your mind. Guess it makes everything seem so much more real that way. 

It’s stupid, so fucking stupid.

But you don’t stop, even when your hand begins to cramp. Because this is the first time in almost half a year that you’re actually letting your pen guide you. The first time you truly feel at ease, not even caring about what you’ve written, or even stopping yourself to edit it.

What’s it called, word vomit? It’s therapeutic, but incredibly hard to do sometimes.

It’s not until the sun rises a couple hours later, and you’re half-asleep at your desk. Your arms curled beneath your head, the muscles in your hand throbbing like crazy. But then you see all those words you’ve written, all that ink staining those pristine white pages…

And you can’t help but smile as you drift off to sleep.

The air is stale with the scent of smoke and ash. The city always smells like shit, but it’s usually better on the outskirts. But the burning pile of flesh at the end of the alley begs to differ, and his hands still ache as blue flames lick at his palms.

Another shitty night coming to an end, thank fuck.

Dabi’s been in this damn city for the better part of two weeks now, boss’s orders unfortunately. Scouting for any possible members, new blood they could add to their ranks. But every group is the same; they’re either loud-mouthed fucks with more muscle in their arms than their own damn heads, or they’re practically children, fresh out of school and all set on playing hero. Still thinking this is a fucking game, and that they can stand to take the League out from the inside.

He’s already had one guy try it a couple months back, but he knew better than to go through with it. Can’t say the same for the rest of the dumbasses burning in the alley, though.

Oh, well. No doubt the heroes will find them tomorrow, if they even bother showing up. Not many of them like to venture all the way out here, especially if it means real danger.

He slides a pack of cigs out from his pocket, choosing one and lighting it with the tip of his finger. He’s walked these roads too many times in the last few nights, practically knows them inside and out. And it’s not long before that silly little department store comes into view—the same one that oh-so-generously let him borrow some of their stock last week.

Didn’t even need to use his quirk to make it happen, either.

The double doors slide open, the blaring lights a stark contrast to the shadows of the streets. He barely has time to step back before someone steps out, waving their hand behind them with a smile on their face.

Oh, the same one from that night. He can’t help but smirk at the memory.

It’s a girl—and if her face and height are anything to go by, he’s starting to wonder if she’s even old enough to work at a place like this. Apparently her brain must be impressively small too, with the way she’s walking down the darkened street without a care in the world. One hand fastened on the strap of her purse and the other dangling down at her side, a dark lanyard wrapped around her wrist. She must have a shit-ton of keyrings on them, judging by how hard she swings it back and forth. As if that’s going to protect her if someone tries to jump her.

Fucking dipshit.

He rolls his eyes and takes another long drag of his cigarette. Watching the stupid kid out of the corner of his eye—and nearly dropping the cig altogether when he watches her veer off the sidewalk and head straight for the forest.

What the fuck is she doing? Does she want to get herself killed?

Maybe it’s sheer curiosity—or maybe it’s hoping something out there will pick her off so she’ll learn her lesson—whatever it is, it has his feet moving on their own. Picking up the pace to keep her within his sights, the cigarette barely hanging from his mouth.

Didn’t anyone teach her not to go walking around this late at night? For fuck’s sake it’s nearly one in the morning, does her shift really last that long? What compelled her to take a walk in the goddamn forest of all places? No way she lives all the way out here, she’s probably got a place somewhere in the city. Probably just looking for a cheap thrill so late at night.

Stop it. She’s not your problem to worry about, so quit it already. Just sit back and watch the show.

He follows her down the old trodden path, waiting for her to hit a stray root or trip over a rock and fall flat on her face. But nothing happens, other than a few scuffs of dirt on her ratty old sneakers. Almost like she knows these woods—like the back of her hand.

It’s a struggle to keep his footsteps soft. His boots do nothing to quell the sound of leaves crunching, dirt spraying across the path. Luckily she doesn’t hear, either that or she just doesn’t care.

Where the hell is she heading at this hour?

His answer appears in the form of a house. A pretty shitty-looking one, if he’s being completely honest. Shabby roof, flimsy door, moss creeping over each and every corner. Almost like no one’s bothered to visit the place in the last decade or so—at least.

The girl steps right up to the door, swinging that stupid lanyard at her side. Shuffling around until she finds the right key, before disappearing into the house altogether. A light flickers on in the window, her shadow visible behind the aging curtains.

Fuck him, she does live here.

In the middle of nowhere, secluded from the rest of the world. She’s stupid, isolating herself from all those people in town. Help’s not gonna come if you’re stuck in some random forest, she’s probably better off in the heart of the city. Then again, it must be nice for her. Being able to wake up in the morning without the blaring of sirens in your ears. Tucked away where no one can find you, safe and sound in the comfort of your own quiet home.

He almost envies her. Almost.

The longer he stares at the little mossy house, watching her shadow flit back and forth behind the curtain, the more he starts to wonder what she has inside. Must be stocked on food and medicine; that shit’s hard to come by these days. Might be worth a peek once she’s gone. She’ll probably leave tomorrow night for her shift, right? He’ll slip in then, see if she’s got anything worth his time. Better this random cottage than an apartment in the city, right? From what he can tell there’s not a soul in sight, save for the looming trees and starry sky.

He’s smirking now, slipping back into the shadows of the forest, right beside the old trodden path. She never even sees him.

The house is dark and empty by sundown. The path is easier to walk in the daylight, but he still waits until nightfall before scoping out the house. Just in case she getany bright ideas and decides to return home sooner than she should.

It’s a two-story house, and while the front door’s latched shut, the windows sure aren’t. It slides open with a squeak, like it hasn’t been touched in years. Looks like the kitchen—or a sorry excuse for one, if he’s being honest. A small table with only two chairs, neither of them looking like they’re from the same set. Papers and books and pens litter the surface, with the napkin holder knocked down on its side.

Not that they have a better one back at the base. Hell, they’re lucky enough if they’re able to sit down for most of their meals, if they can get their hands on any.

Which reminds him of his mission, and he’s scanning the room for any possible food. And there, to his left: a crowded counter stacked with boxes of cookies and candy, below a pair of cupboards with even more food stored inside.

Jackpot.

The League’s not picky when it comes to food, anything will do when your stomach’s keeping you up at night. Well, Dabi can’t say the same for himself—he fucking hates fish. He’d much rather deal with an empty stomach rather than scarf down a few meager bites of sushi. Just the thought of it makes him want to puke.

He can’t take too much the first night, that’ll only make her wonder. It’s best to have as little people in this secluded house as possible. So for now he stuffs his pockets with small snacks for the guys back at base…and maybe even a few candy bars for Toga. Last thing that little psycho needs is more sugar in her system, but he’d rather not hear her whine that he didn’t get anything for her when he gets back.

Plus, this girl doesn’t seem to have any pomegranates around (or any fruit or vegetables, for that matter), so candy will have to do.

When both pockets are jammed with food, he takes a step back to survey the rest of the house. At least the inside looks marginally better than the outside, save for the abhorrent dining room. Simple and sweet, even if it’s a little bland in color.

A gray couch with a couple of pillows in bright colorful pillowcases. A side table with one too many remotes on it, along with a paperback that’s definitely seen better days. A kitchen isle with a sink cluttered with dirty dishes, and a single stool resting beneath the opposite end. Not a single house plant in sight, but plenty of photos throughout, some on the wall but most taped on the fridge. Must be friends and family—but so far, he can only see one person living in this house.

How sad, she must be so lonely without anyone else here…

He rolls his eyes and trods up the creaky set of stairs. Might as well take a peek at the rest of the house, right?

The hallways split up into three major bedrooms. One is filled with storage totes and moving boxes, still waiting to be unpacked (though, by the layer of dust on each of them, he’s not thinking any time soon). The other bedroom is filled, and he means filled, with books. Every square inch is either vacated with an old aging shelf or a stack of hardcovers on the floor. It’s messy and cluttered and he slams the door shut as soon as he opens it.

Lives like a fucking slob, doesn’t she?

The final bedroom turns out to be the biggest one of all, and it’s the only one in the house that actually lives up to its name. A dresser, a desk, and surprise, surprise, another fucking bookcase. There’s also a bed with a thousand plushies on the covers, each one more ridiculous than the last. A giraffe, a raccoon, and whatever the fuck that is. Some weird fuzzy brown creature with a large snout and a bitchy expression on its face. Toga probably knows the name of it, but Dabi couldn’t care less.

There’s also a set of double doors that leads out to a little terrace. It looks better than the rest of the house—must be a newer addition—overlooking the forest beyond. Overall it’s a cute little spot to live in.

And still no sign of anyone else living here with her.

He’s smirking now, thinking of all the things he can sneak out of here in the next few nights—when something else catches his eye. A strange outline under the blanket of the bed, in the center of all the damn toys staring back at him.

He has half a mind to burn the little giraffe to a crisp as he reaches in for the mysterious object. And it’s…a book. Fucking shocker.

No, wait—it’s a journal. Only a few pages filled in so far, the ink messy against the bright white pages. It’s the size of his palm, with a black leather cover and a matching black string attached to the spine, probably to act as a bookmark. And sure enough it’s stuck in a certain spot in the book, the entry dated to just a few nights ago.

I want to see him again. I know that sounds wrong, but it’s the truth. I can’t really explain it, no matter how hard I try. Everything that comes out just sounds wrong…but in my head it makes perfect sense.

I know I’m probably screwed in the head for thinking this. For thinking about him like this. Like I could be the one to change him, to be the only one he wouldn’t kill on sight.

No, wait a minute. I was, wasn’t I? We saw each other that night at the store, and he didn’t even try to hurt me.

He can feel his brow inching further up with every word he reads. What the fuck is she talking about? He flips to another random page—

And the answer’s staring him right in the face, in stark black ink.

Dabi

Dabi

Dabi   

Dabi

I want to see him again. Ask him so many questions, the same ones that keep rattling away in my head. Why did you become a villain? Where did you come from? What is your favorite color?

Please, just one more time. We don’t even have to talk to each other. I just wanna see him with my own two eyes. Now that I know he’s real, that he’s the villain everyone’s afraid of. And I know I should be too, and I am…but I think I’m more curious of him. Maybe that just makes me stupid.

Yeah, I’m just stupid.

The words are swimming on the pages, blurring together, screaming in his head so loud he wonders if he’s read them out loud. But no, it’s dead silent in this room, in this house. Just him and this little black book, written in the hand of that little weirdo. The same one that chooses to live in a creepy old house in the middle of the forest, the one that works at a sketchy department store well into the night. The same one that didn’t scream once she saw him—but instead offered to let him go, even when she knew he was stealing.

And for some reason, he can’t hold back the smirk that stretches across his face.

Of all the people in this city, in this whole damn country, he thinks he’s found the one that intrigues him the most.

Poor girl, doesn’t even know what she’s caused. Just mindlessly writing her thoughts down in her diary, hoping no one will ever read what she’s written.

As carefully as he can, he tucks the book back in its place under the covers. As tempting as it is to take it with him, he knows that’ll only cause more suspicion. Still, he wants to leave her a love letter of his own—something that lets her know she’s not alone in her fascination.

So he does.

And a few minutes later he’s climbing out the kitchen window and making the trek through the forest, pockets full with snacks and a shit-eating grin on his face.

You hate Saturday nights. Arguably the busiest night of the week, and yet you’re still so short-staffed the cashiers end up taking the full brunt of the work. Ringing register, sorting supplies, stocking shelves—oh wait, we need you back up front to do register. Wait why aren’t you working on that cart I told you to finish? Excuse me, can you unlock this item for me? Can you help me check out, and only me, these lines are too long for my liking. Why can’t you be in two places at once?

Not that you ever find it fun to come to work…but Saturday nights just make it a little less fun. And once it calms down and the store closes up, you have to make the journey back home half-asleep. It’s a miracle you haven’t woken up in the middle of the forest yet.

Tonight is one of those nights, where you stumble your way back home like you’ve just had one hell of a night at the bar. But no amount of rubbing your eyes or chugging the bottle of soda in your hands will keep you upright. Eventually you see your little house in the distance, and your chest starts to feel a little lighter at the promise of sleep.

You fumble with the keys twice before managing to unlock the door. Latching it shut behind you, you don’t even turn on any lights before heading straight to your room. The dishes and laundry can wait till tomorrow. Right now, all you need is some fucking sleep.

The trio of stuffed animals on your bed greet you when you step into the room. Before coming to live here, your mother insisted you bring along some childhood stuffies with you, just so you wouldn’t get too lonely. And you hate to say it, but she was absolutely right. More often than not do you find yourself cuddling up to them, wondering about your family back home.

You kick off your shoes and drape your jacket over the back of the desk chair. Then you flop face first onto the bed, not even bothering to change into pajamas. You know you’ll be out cold within five minutes, so what’s the point?

“Goodnight, Rascal,” you mumble to the little raccoon, “goodnight, A.J.,” you pet the little giraffe, “and goodnight, Maxwell.” The little capybara toy is your favorite, but you’ll never admit it out loud. (Not when the other two can hear you.)

You roll over onto the bed, but something sharp juts into your side. You groan and force your hand beneath the covers to yank it out—oh, that’s right… you forgot you’d left your little notebook in bed with you. Must’ve fallen asleep while writing in it last night.

But there’s something sticking out of it, something that prevents it from closing all the way. You open it up and a scrap of paper falls out; not a loose page from the book, but a folded-up index card. One that’s got a note of its own written messily on the side.

One that makes the exhaustion all but vanish from your body.

You should keep this book in a safer hiding spot. You never know who might be reading all your little love notes, doll. 

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x you #kerosene and butterflies #tw: stalking #restricted fics

[aboutnavi]

I was brushing my teeth, reflecting about life, & my mind went back to AFTG and there is a scene on the first book that it has been stuck on my brain since I read the trilogy again this January and it's about Seth. Now, I know the fandom -in general- barely talk about Seth because Nora decided to kill him off for shock value and when people try to talk about him, it always comes back to 'he was a homophobic, disgusting piece of shit' which yes, valid but also, are we forgetting Aaron? The babyfication of Aaron in this fandom had everyone collectively forgetting he was exactly like Seth (even worse: towards his family!!!). Two wrongs doesn't make one right & I'm in no way justifying Seth's action but if we never talk about characters on AFTG just because they were problematic, we are not talking about any of them, ever (ok maybe some of them, but still).

My point is: the scene. Neil is confused as to why Seth hates Kevin -specifically him- so much, since Seth could get along with most people if he wanted and tried hard enough but he refused to give ground to Kevin & his answer is just so humanly heartbreaking it goes to my list of moments Nora did something right in AFTG. The scene goes like this:

Neil: Why do you hate him?

Seth: Because I'm sick of him getting everything he wants just because he's Kevin Day. Do you know what fame gets you, shitface? Everything. All he has to do is ask for it, and someone will give it to him. Doesn't matter what. Doesn't matter who. The world is dying to give him anything he wants. When he broke his hand, his fans cried for him. They flooded our locker room with letters and flowers. The amazing Kevin Day can't play anymore. Their lives were over. They'd grieve the loss forever. But tell me when's the last time anyone cried over you? Never, right? They're there for Kevin every step of the way, but where were they when we needed them?

Neil, stupidly: So you're jealous.

Seth: His life is not more important than mine just because he's more talented.

Neil first instinct is to say jealousy because jealousy is something he understands (he felt jealous of Kevin for having a future, for being able to play, for the talent, for the life he never got to live when his mother ran away, etc.) but for me what Seth is trying to portrait is more like the painful awareness that you get when you realize you're also worthy of love and care. Seth is such an unexplored character who had so much potential if Nora hadn't killed him for the sake of showing how Riko could be/was dangerous (and she could have done that in so many different ways!!!) & you can see that on, for example, Nora's post about his life. Seth was always the no-priority person, the kid no one payed attention to, the boy that if killed, not even his mother would come for the funeral. He was every aspect a Fox and he spent his entire life being told he was no one and to be able to say his life is not more important than mine shows so much development; the chance he had put on himself for being open to love, to care, to second and third chances... it was all there. It breaks my heart that he never got the chance to become something. & I do not believe he was an inherently bad person? They are so young in AFTG, all of them. Maybe Seth wasn't bad; maybe he was just twenty-two, you know?

& on the extra content when they tell Allison he died and she goes 'He called me not even an hour ago! He was drunk and rambling but he was happy for the first time in weeks. He was talking about how he finally thought graduating would be okay, about how he wanted me to help him look into grad schools. He wanted to go into social work and help people like he helps us. I know he wanted to die! Everyone knows he wanted to die! Every time he said he was done with life I walked away from him and every time he came chasing after me. This is the first time--he wanted to live.' breaks my heart.

Because, ok, Seth dies. Let's pretend it was a good idea for him to die to set some sort of impact on the story for a second. Except his death goes without much fuss. The shock Nora wanted is felt for maybe three seconds, in one paragraph in the last page of TFC and then we barely talk about Seth on TRK and TKM. Neil can't even understand how impactful was Seth's death - he only cares about how it will affect the game & his guilt is more about how Allison would feel towards him then sadness over losing a teammate - and this insight we get from Allison is from the extra content and not everyone goes on to read those so if Nora wanted something out of his death - pity, shock, sadness, or whatever - she should have put this scene IN THE BOOKS.

#anyway a little rent #aftg #all for the game #nora sakavic #andrew minyard #neil josten #seth gordon #the raven king #renee walker #dan wilds #aaron minyard #matt boyd #nicky hemmick #books #nora made so many mistakes #in the books but truly #not giving seth another chance was cruel #she goes on and on in three books about second and third chances #and then kills him #honestly woman #don't even ok #kevin day #david wymack #the foxes

[jabbage]

I keep seeing a post floating around from an aspec person saying how they'd been made to feel monstrous and broken and wrong.

I went through those feelings in my teens and twenties and had some really dark times. I think that society gives us such limited views of what happiness and success look like, and it can be crushing. If you're someone who knows you're not going to pair off or get married or have kids, it's hard to know what a happy domesticity looks like?

I'm in my early 30s now, and I'm so contented with my life. I thought I'd share a little, in case it gives anyone a bit of hope to see one form a happy life can take which isn't perhaps the mainstream?

I wake up to find my little cat purring on my chest, and I give her a cuddle.

I get dressed in a new suit I've brought. I realised recently that off-the-shelf clothes never fit me right, so I've been saving up money to have them adjusted at a tailor. It fits perfectly now and I feel great in it. It's taken a while, but I feel like I've finally nailed a style for myself.

I walk to work, through the park so I can admire the flowers. This takes longer, but it gives me some exercise and I enjoy having the time to think. I stop off at a shop on the way and get some nice sandwiches, my favourite kind of pastry and a drink. Normally I make a pack lunch, but this is my weekly Tuesday Treat.

I have a morning meeting with some of my coworkers, who I feel value me and my work. Personal organisation in my worklife has been a struggle for me, but recently I realised I'm one of those folks who probably has ADHD and wasn't caught by the system. Just knowing this has given me so many new tools which are designed for the way by brain works, and I feel so much more confidant.

For the rest of the day instead of staying in my office I work on a picnic table in the sunshine, occasionally stopping to watch some skateboarders. At lunchtime I eat the food I bought, and I chec discord and catch up with online shenanigans. I enjoy having friendships I've forged with people across the world. I love to visit people and to travel, and my independent lifestyle gives me chance to do that. I also like having people over to stay. I like to say I'm like Bilbo Baggins, I live along in my little hobbit hole but if you come round I'll cook you an elaborate dinner and put you up for the night.

After work I go on a free guided history walk around my local area, and find out about lots of little historical things of interest I hadn't seen before. I also meet new people. Even if I never see them again, it's nice to have that moment of connection. When I get home, I video call with my parents and we share our news with each other.

I cook a quick dinner - these days I don't put pressure on myself to do anything too elaborate. I figure if frozen chopped onion and ready meals help me to eat moderately well and keep healthy, I'll use them. I have some cream which needs using, so eat it with some absolutely monstrous strawberries.

I check my personal emails with my cat purring away on my lap. I've got a little side gig writing and illustrating. I worry that I'm not very good and It doesn't make me much money and I know I'll never be famous (do I even want to be?!), but I do enjoy it. Sometimes I'm confronted with a pile of rejections which can hurt, but it's all good stuff today: the money from a book I worked on came in. There are some more details about a talk I'm giving at the British Library later this year. My agent is sending some possible opportunities my way.

I still have a few hours before bed, so I work on a creative project for a bit. Not something I'm being paid for today: it's a personal craft project. I realised a while ago I have a bad habit of monetising everything, so now I make sure to set aside time in the week to work on things that will be presents for myself or friends.

And then when it gets to about 11, I snuggle under the covers and read PG Wodehouse. I giggle. A lot.

It's been a hard slog, but I suddenly find that I'm a very happy person. There's no partner-shaped or child-shaped hole in my life. I'm content. Every life has highs and lows of course, some days are better than others. I'm sure I'll have many troubles to face in the future, but I consider my asexuality to be a positive and joyful facet of my life.

#asexual #asexuality #aroace #aromantic #aromanticism