#one of those post when I talk and talk and I can't tell if it is coherent anymore

[landograndprix]

╰┈➤ ❝ desire us • l.n ❞ ii

part one - part three

➪ life changed after you decided to go through it as a single woman, offering your daughter the best life she deserves, focusing on work, friends and family but damn, that guy.

➪ your friends are up to no good while you make another life changing decision.

➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles (platonic) x lando

➪ you really thought i was gonna keep my babies apart? Y/n's 2nd child = millie & are text messages between millie and Manon ;)

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y/nusername

📍 Paris, France

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 476,321 others

y/nusername 🏡

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chilisainz ah you're telling me this is not a happy little family? 👀

↳ yukisan just a couple of besties spending every single free minute together 🥰

chilisainz like all besties do 🥰

julieeeexo this is a last warning for zoë..stop growing

hamilt44n girl I wanna live in Paris, are you looking for a roommate?

landitonorris so you're telling me our girl flew to the UK to 'hang out' with lando and they flew back to Paris together to 'hang out' with each other at y/n her place?

↳ sharl16 they'll probably fly to Japan together as well 😅

landitonorris but they're just friends though 😉

sharl16 oh yeah for sure!!!!!!!!!

milliexoxo ...but when I ask for a sleepover you say no :(

milliexoxo ...just say you don't like me and logan

↳ norry4 love makes blind bestie, you're on your own 😔

y/nusername so dramatic and for what? :')

landonorris princess bed sleept amazing

bott_ass you're not fooling anyone my guy, you're sleeping in the same bed 😂

norrizz actually living my dream life

charles_leclerc my pretty princess ❤️

↳ landonorris thank you, you're a pretty princess too ❤️

landoscar I love this dad and (ex?)stepdad dynamic <3

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y/nusername posted to their story

manon_roux replied to your story

manon_roux

cutest little girl in the world ♡

I'm talking about zoë

kidding you cute too

Also, you can't convince me lando's able to keep his hands to himself at night when you're looking like that next to him in bed

or does he really sleep in zoë's tiny ass princess bed?

I know you're ignoring me

what secrets are you hiding from me girl?

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y/nusername

liked by milliexoxo, landonorris and 541,387 others

y/nusername 🇯🇵

tagged: milliexoxo

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sharl16 babe is okay, you can tag lando <3

yukisan we better get a 3 hours long vlog to make up for all the months you haven't posted 😭

norry4 don't be shy lando, drop those pictures you've taken of y/n

↳ norrizz and zoë

norry4 I just know he's got a ton of pictures of them 😭

hamilt44n damn Logan so lucky

lando4norris once again asking to be a third in whatever relationship y/n and lando have going on

norrislandooo I've gone nearly 6 months without a vlog, this better be worth it ma'am 😭

logiebear can logan fight?

↳ y/nusername logan's a lover, not a fighter

milliexoxo this man fights me 24/7, don't know where you got that information

logansargeant that's one way to exaggerate

milliexoxo get back in your cage captain america

logiebear millie I love u 😭❤️

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Lando taglist: @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew @mcmuppet @justdreamersdream

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @ireadthensuetheauthors @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseoki @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @celestialend @jsjcue @d3kstar @themislovesf1 @mehrmonga @destinyg237

Desire taglist; @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader 

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smau #lando norris imagine #f1 driver x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #lando x reader

[lalalychee-x]

DR. RATIO D!CK PROFILE ft. headcannons

♡ WOOO! Per request, next up in this series is DR. RATIO! Didn't expect this series to gain so much attention; should I make a masterlist for it? Anyway, yk those comments that pop out hex codes about character's cock? Yeah, well, I'm going to do that too, and this time its our mundane know-it-all...!

♡ BASICS

girth: #edcfc7 body: #fae9e3 tip: #e8b3a7 size: 7inch-7.5inch texture: pale veins +veiny enough to feel them, very little curve thickness: 2.5inch foreskin: no

DR. RATIO! 's dick is probably well kept as he can't stand mess or imperfections. Looks like a work of ART, goddamn, like its perfectly sculpted. And he's generally one of the thicker ones.

DR. RATIO! 's cock doesn't curve much or at all, again looking pristine perfect. He's overall quite pale, and his tip is pale-reddish, thick and long. It takes up a good 2.5inches of his length off the bat...

DR. RATIO! is awfully stubborn though. He often just plays dead-serious, even if he is aroused by your antics. It does take him a lot of SHEER WILLPOWER to not give in.

DR. RATIO! However, expanding from that, the second he can get off of work, he has you bent over his desk and pounds you from behind. He likes tracing circles on the curve of your back, down your spine to feel and massage every curve and every bone. He grips and feels every lock of hair on your head as he pulls on it gently from behind. 

DR. RATIO! Heavily going off of that previous point, he just loves watching your figure shiny with sweat and fluid beneath him. He definitely mutters in awe at your figure, chanting how beautiful you look and worshipping your body as he fucks you: as if you were the most alluring piece of art to him.

DR. RATIO! is, despite appearing cold, praises you a lot; almost worshipping you when he sees your figure on display. He'll trail his hands (and occasionally his tongue) up and down your body, massaging and groaning with a furrowed expression as he does so. Will be constantly mutter praises and compliments breathlessly as he touches you.

DR. RATIO! is, however, a very work-orientated man. You often tease him, almost begging him to give you a bit of attention when he works long hours, or when he keeps saying 5 more minutes when you come to pick him up from his office to have lunch with him. But its not like you back down easily either...

DR. RATIO! Oh boy, you're lucky that his collegues respect him enough to not say anything when you've finally had enough and tug on his belt from under his desk. You purposefully choose when he is on a call or meeting of some sort with his camera on, before being agonisingly slow with sucking him off. You consider it a bit of payback for his cold nature (though, he is comforting at heart).

DR. RATIO! is (not so) surprisingly easy to annoy, but it's also (not so) surprisingly easy to get him hard. Just a few pumps and a couple of licks from you, means he's already having to mask his flustered state; you can tell because he starts furiously tapping his foot under his desk beside where you're sat. Out of view of the camera and the people he's talking to, of course, but he slips up once in a while. "Yes, I think we should — ! Mmh —! Hrgh, s-sorry. Repeat t-that?"

DR. RATIO! takes things slow in general, enough that he can savour you and really take in all of you, like he was analysing you. He relishes your figure as foreplay, kissing you in strange places, but it's pure admiration. To be admired by Dr. Ratio is insanely high praise.

DR. RATIO! ...How do I even describe balls?! Like, at all?! Am also working on a small Ratio x reader fic soon! Keep an eye out and tell me if you'd like that <3

Feel free to ask for other characters!

♡ Please do not modify, steal, plagarise or post on other platforms without asking. Thank you!

#lychee<3 #lychee's sillies #hsr #hsr smut #smut #head under the desk!! #dr ratio #veritas ratio #hsr x reader #hsr headcanons #heacanons #hsr veritas #ratio x reader #ratio hsr #honkai star rail

[topgunruinedme]

I Got Dreams But I Can't Make Myself Believe Them

Word count: 7.5k

Parings: Rooster & Maverick, Rooster & Iceman, Iceman/Maverick

Summery:

'Hey it’s Mav, leave a message. And no Ice whatever they’re accusing me of, I didn’t do-' He jabbed his finger on the screen again. Tears in his eyes. It couldn’t end like this. It just couldn't...please... It rang. Once Twice- “Hello?”

His face hurt. Pulsing with a vigour that he knew he should take his pain med and yet…he hadn’t. Because he deserved this pain. He deserved this. 

This aching, the dagger-like sensation deep in the muscle when he tried to move. Still, it was not even close to a fraction of what he made them feel. So, he deserved this. 

The pain. The punishment. They always did tell him he was a masochist. Fretting over his father being gone, whether Mav missed him, why  he  didn’t miss him. Worried about his mother's health, if they would lose the house, why wasn’t she smiling anymore. Would Mav stay or would he leave him without his favorite Bradshaw's; after all Mav wasn’t his babysitter. Was he going to be stuck alone in this world struggling to finish high school with the crushing debt of his mother's hospital bills and house lines that he discovered showed under her bed two days after the funeral. Was he going to die hungry or cold? And his newest one, would anyone care if he burnt in? 

At least he had an answer to the last one. No. It was so painfully clear now, he had pushed too far and they had given up on him. The phone calls and messages left unanswered, the lettered read tearfully and shoved in a box under  his bed  that stayed with him religiously through deployments. The Admirals who bumped into him occasionally in deployments which he  knew  was their way of checking on his health after all files can only offer so much. 

Yet…no one had come when he called. When he had laid on that hospital bed terrified out of his mind, cold, bloodied and half the mind that either he was Nick Bradshaw or he was seeing him. And no  one,  had come.

His NOK. His dad. He called. 

No one.

No one cared anymore.

He remembered the nurses holding him down as he screamed out in short panic bursts as what he now knew were  cold induced  hallucinations raged through him. He remembered managing to grab a nurse's arm and begged them to call his father.  Begged.  Over and over again, demanding she keep trying until they sedated him somewhere between the  forth  redial.

No one came.

His dad didn’t care anymore. 

He had gone too far and they had given up on him.

He pressed his face into the tattered plushy pushing down the whine of pain as it agitated the stitches on his chin tugging at the cuts. He curled around the soft toy in the limp bunk at his base housing trying to breathe through the pain. Wheezing as the position put a strain on his already sore ribs, bruised but thankfully not broken, but there was only so much they could do about the bruising caused by the harness. They marked up his chest, around his shoulders and down his back, making him look like a mummy who went through a fight and became a kickboxing victim. They weren’t pretty overall. He certainly wasn’t going to be winning any medals any time soon.

It was strange what  near death  situations did to a person. Twelve hours ago he was filled with such hurt, such hatred towards Maverick's actions, not him as a person but hurt about how he went behind his back and stopped him from succeeding…he just couldn’t see why they couldn’t have talked about it. Now. After spending all those hours alone trapped in a hospital wing, half aware of reality, strapped down to his cot like some dangerous criminal. All he wanted was to hold his father's hand. All he wanted was to go  home. 

But the question stood, did he even have a home to go back to now? 

He remembered the  crokard  post box from that time Mav had tried to teach him to drive and he accidentally mixed up his accelerator and brake. But despite the years, Ice never fixed it. Maybe he was also a sucker for memories. 

He remembered Ice’s fond smile as he helped apply the coloured paint to his hands after he insisted on putting their handprints on the mailbox after watching the new Disney movie UP. Ice had simply shaken his head, dug out some paints from one of Maverick's abandoned side projects and let himself be dragged out to the front lawn laughing all the way. 

He remembered the loose and wobbly handrail to the stairs in the hallway that always made Ice sigh and roll his eyes anytime he heard it creak, yet he never got it fixed even when Ron apologized for being too careless while roughhousing with Wolf and offered to fix it himself. 

He remembered the way Maverick would be waiting for him in the kitchen every morning before school. Chiding him to get dressed as he snagged a piece of bacon from the pan while Ice wasn’t looking only to complain that it was  hot,  when he  himself  was  bare chested  new and faded marks across his chest with low sweatpants on his hips, bed hair wild around his head. 

The way every Thursday without fail their house would be filled with his uncles, spread out around their living room in various stages of a food coma, gorging themselves on the sweets Mav would spend all morning making with a pleased smile. He always had been his happiest providing for other people, seeing they were happy. 

He remembered the board game night, the nights they would spend curled up on the couch together with some nonsense show that no one was really watching, and the nights they sometimes spent out watching the stars. 

He remembered them cheering at his little league games despite being tired from a long day at work or having just returned from a deployment, which he now knew they would have been dead on their feet just wishing for a bed. He remembered their concern muttering when he was sick and their fingers through his hair. He remembered Ice’s mother's lullaby that the man would hold him through the wee hours of the morning and hum under his breath when they thought he was asleep.

He wanted to go home, he wanted it all. But he had lost it all when he cut off contact. And he was half terrified that they were angry at him, every time he sat there and thought about calling, about turning up on their doorstep to ask for forgiveness he would just stare at the number of missed calls, he would think about the hundreds of voice messages. He’d feel the burning of the box of letters all unanswered under his bed as he laid down and hugged his goose plushier that they had given him all those years ago. No doubt abusing Ice's powers to discover his address when he heard that he was in hospital in his junior year of university. The seams were now ratty from how often he ran his fingers over them, the fur carefully taken care of but despite his efforts the old plushie was dying, and unlike everything else in his life it was leaving him too. He could no longer preserve the memories within it. 

He bit his lip only for the sharp pain that shot through his head to remind him why he shouldn’t do that. He winced, not from the way the fur rubbed up against the fresh stitches, although it wasn’t comfortable, but over the fact that Maverick was right. His heart jumped in his throat. He wasn’t ready. 

Because Maverick had almost just lost him like he had lost Goose.

He had been reckless, and   arrogant; he had been a kid thrown into a jet and told he was good, his ego was inflated and he  hadn’t been ready. 

And he had fallen out of the sky. He had burned in. And he was damn lucky he didn't take anyone else out in the process.

He had paid his price, and it had almost been his own head.

A few more seconds…  the doctor's words ran through his head like a gunshot echo, warning him of the tragedy that could have occurred.

What will you tell their parents when they don’t come back? When they come back in a casket. What excuse will be ready then Lieutenant…  His commanding officer  lecture  piggybacking from his nightmares,  what excuse will be acceptable then? 

There wasn’t one. This was his fault, his own failure. What would they have told them if he died? 

You have my condolences Mr Kazansky,  Mr  Mitchell. However, your son has died in a training accident - having not even made it out of Top Gun - by his own stupidity! 

Yeah, he could see that going over well.

He ran his thumb over the screen of his phone nervously, should he call? He had called- the hospital had called. But maybe they don’t answer unknown numbers, old people were like that… right? His fingers felt clammy as he took a shaky breath, whining quietly as he thumbed through his contacts to find the right number and listened to the phone ring quietly.

Once. 

Twice.

Three times.

Each ring felt like a bullet in the chamber, he could hear tone ringing out around him as tears welled in his eyes, a sob building in his chest as the phone clicked, the call unanswered.

Too close, switching to guns. 

'Hey it’s Mav, leave a message. And no Ice whatever they’re accusing me of, I didn’t do-'

He jabbed his finger on the screen again. Tears in his eyes. It couldn’t end like this. It just  couldn’t…please… 

It rang.

Once 

Twice-

“Hello?” A croaky voice answered, indubitably not Mav.

"Ice?" His voice shook, "Pops?"

“Shit ”  .  Something rustled loudly over the phone and he could almost see Ice scrambling to sit up on the bed. A  bitten out  swear carried lowly over the line and it almost made him smile as he heard something clatter to the ground with a thud, no doubt the older man knocking something off the bedside table in his haste to grab his glasses and slide them on his nose to look at the phone. “Bradley?”

He sounded so hesitant as if he was afraid he was hearing things. It pained him to wonder how often his Pops had woken in the middle of the night hearing his voice and wondering if it was real or a  sleep deprived  hallucination. How often it left his Pops laying in his bed curled up with his hands over his ears trying to ignore his imaginary self calling for him for help, and not being able to help the man come back to earth. How many times had his Pops suffered silently and alone and he hadn't even known about it. 

“Pops” he sobbed, chest aching from the force of his whine and the pang of his heart at the thought of how many times he had been the reason for his parents to cry, the cause of his parent's pain over the years. 

“Bradley baby. What's wrong? Come on baby bird, I need you to speak to me”. Ice’s familiar level tone sounded unusually anxious, “Come on daring, you can do it. Take some deep breaths for me”. 

He hadn't even realized that his  panic induced  sobs had pushed him into the dangers of hyperventilation. His gaps of breath between his  chest shaking  sobs became shorter and more panicked as he acknowledged the lack of oxygen. 

“Breath,”  Ice pleaded. “Baby please”. 

“He didn’t answer” he gasped out, whimpering “He wasn’t  there  ”

“Bradley, honey what-?”

He could hear Ice’s underlying confusion as he whined in pain hissing behind gritted teeth as he burrowed his face further into the soft teddy irritating his stitched cuts. “Mav” he whined, his voice muffled as he pressed it further into the soft fabric, ashamed of his clingy neediness for his parents despite being 25. The mortification of crying out to them over a little crash. He felt like a kid creeping into his parent's rooms during the night after a nightmare, sweat still clinging to his brow, stomach rebelling as he hovered by their bedside unsure whether to wake them or not. But despite the early hour they had always opened their arms to him, shifted and made room for him between them on the bed. Always. Maybe…after all this time, just maybe Ice could spare a little room to allow him a few moments to recuperate and shuffled away in shame. 

Realistically he knew that Ice couldn’t see him. He knew that Ice wouldn't care, that the man would simply look at him with pursed lips, his brows furrowed in concern and coo quietly as he gathered him in his arms, careful to guide his face over his shoulder to prevent him from aggravating his wounds further. Despite what many people thought Ice had been more of the mother hen type than Maverick. Mav had been the cool uncle, then he became the serious dad he needed to be but Ice, Ice had been the cool dad. Ice had been the one to take on his missing mother role, the man had melted into it without blinking. Always making sure that someone was there to kiss his brow and tuck him in at night. Who made him breakfast in the morning and took time out of their day to help him with homework when Mav got sick of trying to help him and stomped off frustrated. He was the person who would stand on the guidelines of his games with a cooler of drinks and bulled him into letting him apply sunscreen while he ate the sandwich he had been prepared for lunch while Mav got into an argument with the couch. Ice was the one who would smile at him empathetically holding him when he cried over a crush. Who gave him his  talk  and he was always there a hand away to allow him to crawl into his lap no matter how old he got to comfort him. 

Mav may have been his dad. But Ice had been his Mum, his Pops. He knew that Mav loved him in his own way, but he also knew that he was partly there for his guilty hand in his father's death. He also knew that Mav had promised Carole he would be there for him (Hospital walls are not as soundproof as you think Mav), that he would take his Godfather duties seriously. Whereas Ice,  he  never had to stay. He knew they were wingmen and they tackled problems together but Ice never made him feel like a problem. He always made sure he was included, he never pushed him. Ice never has to stay, and while the man harboured his own guilt over Nick, he never pushed it, never brought it up. They spent his memory day sitting on the patio in the backyard and  drank  Kool-Aid with him silently. Ice didn't have to step in but he did, he didn't have to stay but he chose to. 

He didn't think he could have a mum again after Carole but he did. And that was partly the reason he couldn't bring himself to hang up. Because despite his shame, the agony of his embarrassment and fury at Mav. Cutting Ice out had been the hardest decision of his life and now hearing the man's voice he couldn't find the strength to hang up. Not when he was so close, his smooth voice in his ear begging him to stay. 

“Baby” Ice cooed in concern, it was soft and familiar. It reminded him of the warm feeling of home, the same tone Ice would use as he sat on the edge of his bed letting him climb onto the man's lap clinging to him when his mother was in hospital, not caring that he was far too old to be doing so. He could almost see the soft frown and those gentle eyes staring down at him, and feel the carding of the man’s fingers through his curls. “Baby, are you looking for Mav? He’s out at the hangar tonight. The idiot forgot his phone. I promise he didn’t ignore it on purpose sweetheart-“

“The hospital called” he choked out “I know. I begged them too”.

“Hospital?” Ice sounded alarmed “Bradley-“

“I asked them to call and  he didn’t come ”.

“Bradley Bradshaw”. The soft tone shifted to a firm disciplining one, one he didn't often hear coming from Ice’s lips. It was rare to see him step up into the role of the displeased parent, but that didn't mean it hadn’t happened. Like when the man crossed his arms across his chest with pursed lips and a disapproving look when he caught him sneaking into the house  at  the early hours of the morning when he had been specifically grounded, or when he went drinking for the first time while underage or when the older man had caught him clumsy stubbing out a weed join on his windowsill eyes wide in alarm. This doesn't sound like Ice was disciplining him, no it sounded panicked as if Ice was trying to hold himself together and keep himself from panicking him further when his breathing had just started to slow to a reasonable speed. 

“Bradley baby, why were you in the hospital? Are you ok? God-  please  be ok” Ice sounded desperate. And for a moment it warmed his chest, the next it made his stomach clench uncomfortably. 

He had always taken Ice’s compassion for granted and he had used it against Mav more times than he could count to get what he wanted. He had been a spoiled brat and at the time he hadn't cared about what it would do to the two wingmen. And the worst part about it was that while Ice picked up on it he never made him stop even when it led to the two wingmen arguing or sleeping at different houses. But he always came back. It made him feel sick because  fuck  Ice really did care about him and he still cared about him. Even after he threw him to the curb, after he chewed him out, cutting away their bond and years of love with a rusty knife in hopes it would rot away and get infected. Even after he ignored every call, deleted every message and refused to read the letters and cards the man sent. Even after that horrid ceremony; after he so blankly disregarded Ice’s rank and achievements in front of  everyone . Ice had still stuck by his side. Because despite his  7 year long  temper tantrum, Ice had stuck by him faithfully. He had respected his wishes and avoided getting the same posting as him, doing his maternal duty to send him away if he was anywhere close to them even if he couldn't prevent himself from sending someone to check up on him occasionally to settle his worry. Even if he couldn't prevent himself from sending cards, or from sending him letters each deployment knowing he wouldn't read them just to remind him that someone would care if he burnt in. 

“Today was hop 31” he whispered out with a croak, the demons that accompanied the words settled on both of them, however, there was an unusual heaviness to his. As if more weight had been added on in an attempt to make his knees buckle and maybe there ha d.  Every time he closed his eyes it was no longer the spinning of the Pacific ocean around him as he was strapped into the jet, he no longer heard his dad's voices calling out in a panic, he didn't hear the sound of his father's neck snapping against the canopy or the rough tug of air as it detached. Now he heard the panicked voice of his wingman. He heard Hangman scream out of him  “Roosters heading out to sea! I repeat Roosters going out to sea! Permission to follow-” “Denied Lieutenant''.  He now saw the  stomach clenching  sight of mountains dropping around him as his jet dipped dangerously out of the training zone towards the sea where their adjective had been. It had been simple: fly through the terrain, don't get hit, and get back to base. Where had it gone wrong? When had Hangman’s taunts turned into fearful screams, when was the annoyed fighting turned into the sound of his jet screaming at him to pull up?

He let the line fall silent, taking a shaky breath trying to pull away from the shaking of the jet, the sharp tug of the G-force and the claustrophobic feeling of the canopy closing in on him as the piercing scream echoed in his head, his death sentence. 

“Low Altitude, pull up. Low Altitude, pull  up- ”. 

He could hardly hear anything but if that was the gun cocking then it was Hangman's fearful cry that was the bullet,  “Rooster-!” 

He squeezed his eyes shut and instead let Ice do what he did best and allowed the man to gather his evidence and piece it together himself. 

“I’m not Goose” he rasped out,  barely,  when the response took too long. Reminding the man of his hand in one of the worst mistakes of his life. But it was necessary as much as he hated it because he knew Ice, unlike Mav who blamed himself publicly not afraid to attempt to redeem himself for his hand in it, Ice suffered silently letting his mind run over the scenario looking for a way they could have saved Goose, looking for a scenario that didn't exist. Ice loves to torture himself, and like him, Ice  was  a masochist. “It was fine. I was on my way in and an engine blew. I couldn’t- I went into a flat spin and collided with the ocean” he continued and let out a humorous snort “I burnt in Pops”.

“Christ kid”,  Ice's voice sounded suspiciously wet.

“I’m ok” he mumbled, “I wanted you there.” He tugged the plushy tighter to his chest, closing his eyes as he listened to Ice shift the sheets and audibly stood up from the bed hearing the man mutter to himself quietly as he began to move around the house. There was the recognizable creak of his childhood stairs then a door shut and the phone clicked falling into a vain eerie silence. Had- Had he been wrong? He bit his lip shoving down a sob, his lips wobbled, his eyes squeezing shut. 

Had Pops- he hadn’t hung up had he? He wouldn’t leave him, right?

Pops loved him…he wouldn't leave him. He wouldn’t, but he wouldn't blame the man if he had. It’s not like he had done anything to instil confidence into the older gentleman. He had brushed him off, thrown his offers back into his face, disgraced the man's title in front of the brass and thrown more venom at the man in the last 7 years than he had shown love. 

He let out a wounded noise sob ripped from his lips, teeth chattering as his chest tightened. Ignoring the taste of blood in his mouth as he curled around the plush, squeezing it so tightly it made his shoulders ache and wrist click in protest. No longer making a conscious effort to keep the blood from smearing on the white fabric.

“Bradley?”   

His breath hitched eyes, snapping open, tilting his head back to look at the phone that had fallen from his grip to rest on the mattress to his left as he curled onto his side, the line was still connected.

Ice's worried voice wobbled through the line. “Baby bird can you hear me?” 

“Pops! You- you-“

“Deep breaths honey” Ice reminded him gently. 

“You didn’t leave ” .

“Never” Pops promised firmly. “I’m sorry darling I should have warned you, I forgot there was a lag when the phone connected to the car”.

He blinked and swallowed thickly, reaching up to rub the thick tears from his face sniffing snotty with a grimace as he used his sleeve to rub the evidence from his skin,. His voice clouded with tears as his still scattered brain tried to process the information “Car?”. His head was still pounding and the impromptu crying was not helping in the slightest but the nurse had told him he would be sluggish for the next few days until he healed, then again she had also told him to avoid phones and screens for the next 72 hours. Of anything it was their own fault for allowing him to talk his way out of having a supervisor to watch his every move. Telling him not to use a screen was like telling a pilot he couldn't fly when the new F-25 was sitting right in front of him. 

He was going to do it. He would do anything he had to at this point to hear his Pop’s voice, even if he had to fly to DC and burst into his office himself- that is if they are still posted there. But no, he remembered the creaking of the stairs, the sound was seared into his brain. They had to be down in Miramar, they had to be…right?

That was home. They wouldn’t change that. 

“Yes sweetheart, we’re going to go find that idiot of a father of yours” Ice chuckled fondly.

“Why-“ he stuttered hesitating as he worried the words around in his brain for a moment before finally dragging the dreaded question he's been worrying about since he stomped out of their lives 7 years ago from his lips, “Why isn’t he with you? Did I-''. Had they separated because of him? Why weren’t they living in the same house, they had lived together for as long as he could remember, they all had. 

“No Bradley. You didn’t do anything. He’s just at the hanger, said he needed to do some work on his baby” Ice soothed apparently knowing him too well, perhaps it was a leftover skill from having to learn how to predict his mood swings as a teenager but Ice had always had the knack of knowing what he needed in the moment. He had been so sure on more than one occasion that the man could secretly read minds, but maybe he just knew his thought patterns too well. 

He frowned in confusion, “He has a hanger? Like…his own?”

“I was not impressed” Ice huffed in assurance with a heavy  put on  sigh “If anything he certainly topped the retriever incident, I think he was trying to win some obscure challenge. Then again I wouldn't mind so much if he was actually home more and cared for it”.

“Retriever?”. His stomach clenched as he blinked away tears as he listened to Ice smile fondly as he recounted his wingman's antics. He bit his lip subconsciously. How much had he thrown away? 

Listening to the fact that their lives continued on without him hurt but deep down he knew he hadn't really expected the world to stop spinning. He hadn’t expected for them to stop living their lives just because he had left, but to hear confirmation that they moved on, just as he had…it hurt. 

How much had he missed?

“I came home from a meeting a couple of months ago and Slider was supposed to be watching him but apparently he got  distracted  ”. He let out a wet laugh as Ice drawled in an unimpressed tone. A woman then, they had always been Uncle Si's weakness. One he had seen the others exploit many times to win bets or escape babysitting duties. It was almost a game within the group, or at least it used to be. He could almost hear an Ice smile behind his grouchy tone “Anyway I got back and there’s Mav, dozing away on our couch with a baby golden retriever on his chest. She’s the cutest little thing” Ice cooed only to fall into a brief moment of awkward silence when neither men knew what to say before Ice broke it gently, “We named her Rooster”.

He felt like he was going to be sick. Even after all this time, after all he put them through they still wanted him just as much as he did. 

“Pops,” he cried wetly.

“I'm here baby bird” his Pops promised “Now. Tell me about what you’ve been up to in the last few years since we’ve seen you”.

“You're an Admiral, shouldn’t you already know that? I know you help keep Mav updated” The tone wasn’t accusingly just…tired.

“I do,” Ice said quietly, not bothering to do anything to hide his involvement, “But I want to hear it from you”.

So he told him. He started by explaining how he had driven to the edge of town and checked into a motel after he stormed out of the house, how despite having sent Mav away with his tail between his legs he couldn't stand staying in that house anymore knowing Ice would come home and convince him to stay. So he did what he did best, he fled. He told him about how he called up admissions to California University and reversed his refusal; one of the conditions of a bet he lost to Slider a few years ago that he would apply to the same university that his uncle had graduated from, at the time it hadn't meant anything to him a mere joke. He explained that the university had been surprisingly accommodating once he spun a tale about a Navy relocation that was changed last minute allowing him to attend the university, a lie that Ice lowly chastised him for over the line. How he packed up his limited belongings that night with only his broncho, a few hundred dollars in his account and a quickly  put together  duffle to his name and left that night to drive all the to California. Driving from dawn to dusk trying to sober up from his  7 hour  drive huddled up against the window of a coffee at 5am in  the morning  curled around a cup of coffee trying to stay awake long enough to get his keys from the rental company and crash into the first empty bed he saw. 

He laughed about how he met Jackson for the first time. How his roommate had been allegedly studying at his desk reading through the textbook for their economics and aerodynamic classes when the door of their dorm opened, but before he could greet him apparently he had chucked his bag, letting it fall to the ground and stumbled towards the only undressed bed in the room. Jackson had told him he looked like a zombie dragging himself around dead on his feet, bags under his eyes slurring as he muttered to himself, practically throwing himself halfway across the room at the chance of a wink of sleep, only to misjudge the distance and land half on the edge of the bed and roll off with a startled shout. Jackson had told him after laughing so hard he ended up tilting off his chair and joining him on the floor that he had just stared silently at the ceiling blinking slowly with a confused look as he registered  falling  off the bed.

He confessed how he spent that first night laying awake (of course that was after his frankly illegally long nap, if you could call it that) unable to sleep as he tapped his fingers against his phone that rested on his stomach, fully aware of the missed calls and messages from his uncles, his parents. But the burning need to respond just hadn't been enough to rival the flames of fury curling around his heart like barbed wire. He spent the whole of his first night conflicted, wondering if he should give up and change his mind and go home, that he should beg for Mav to tell him  why  he did this, why he wasn't good enough. Surely there was a reason, something he would fix to make Mav love him again. The memory of Mav recalling in on himself, jaw flexing as the words left his lips leaving a cold grip around his chest as Mav turned on his heels and walked out of the house. 

Go away and never come back  old  man. I don’t want murderers in this house! 

He told Ice about how he powered his phone off and got a burner phone for the first few months, unable to look at it with the burning anger that made him want to throw it at a wall hoping it would break. Knowing he wouldn't be able to resist the temptation to reach out if he saw the calls waiting for him. Knowing that he  needed  to do this, that he couldn't give in yet, that he needed to fight for this. For him. 

He told him about how he got a job waiting tables at a nearby mum-and-pop dinner run by an elderly couple, who reminded him of frighteningly grandpa Viper. About how the older couple had stepped in and who took care of him when he was struggling. How they bullied him into staying after his shifts for dinner or pushed hot chocolate onto him and waved away his money when he tried to pay, and how inventive he had to get to hide his tips around for them to find, knowing they would pull his ear  like  Uncle Wood used to with an exacerbated fond look. 

He relaxed back into the mattress smiling as he recounted his subjects and the people he met. Even going as far as to admit that he found most people his age immature and recounted some of the drama and frat initiation he had witnessed. He had never really gotten along with them, instead he chose to hang out with Jackson most days. Unlike him Jackson wasn't heading for the Navy, the man was instead aiming to work as a consultant for the Pentagon. The man loved aerodynamics but the man had admitted that flying made him queasy, and he very much preferred to keep his feet on the ground. 

He whispered out the painful admission of returning home for the break not having the will to go anywhere else for the holidays only to book out a hotel room and hide out there afraid of running into any of them. He recounted the nights he had sent in the cold bundles up in his truck outside their house watching the lights go off, unable to take the step of actually knocking on the door. Trying to ignore Ice’s sharp inhale pained with the knowledge that he had been so close. 

He talks about how Jackson and he lost contact after graduation both being busy with their new jobs as the man moved out to Texas and as he  himself , moved to Annapolis after finding someone who allowed him to enlist and how he got accepted into the academy. He talked about how he was the oldest kid there and the prejudice he faced from the other recruits due to it. How he was dismissed by the teachers and scrutinized by instructors who urged him to find a new career that suited him better. About how he graduated second in his class only beaten by one person, Jake Seresin. 

He discussed his frustration and rivalry that bloomed and continued through their deployments only to pop back up, like the leach he was because Seresin was a damn cockroach, as his competitor when he was accepted into Top Gun. How it was only due to a surprising friend from the academy popping back up, Natasha Trace, who kept him sane (and likely from being discharged from punching the man's perfect teeth in) and later became his best friend (one who was very unhappily to find out that they were being separated after graduation, she was being stationed out at Hawaii, hours away from his station in Japan). He talked about how close the points were, about how their rivalry seemed to fizzle out in the moment his jet tipped to the side unresponsive and the man cried out for him. How in that moment, the trophy didn't feel like it mattered anymore.

“They always did put too much focus on that damn trophy” Ice muttered, “The point of Top Gun used to be about being the best, as a team. Now… we’ve lost too much with the encouraged competitiveness”. 

He hummed limply as the conversation fell into a sort of lull as he realized how long he had been talking, it was almost 1:23am, almost 2 hours since the call started. And Pops was still here, listening. Who had recognised his distress, and had woken up at an ungodly hour to go and drive out to wherever Mav had boarded himself up for the night simply because he needed him. 

“Hey Pops”

“Yeah, kid?”

“I'm wearing your hoodie”. Part of him knew he should be embarrassed at the admission, he ran the cuff of the old faded grey hoodie between his fingers finding comfort in it even though he could no longer smell Ice’s expensive Italian cologne clinging to it. But he couldn't bring himself to be. Sitting comfortably on the centre of his chest covering his sternum was a dark blue and red image, a familiar image, a dark blue circle surrounding a white F-15, marking his chest with his destiny. The words that had been engraved in his mind long before he had ever set foot on the ground before him;  United  States Navy: Fighter Weapons School.    

“Your Top Gun one”. It had given him a connection to them all, being so far away from them, wearing it was the only time he was able to scratch at the nauseating homesickness that rocked his whole being. It had given him a homestead, the name printed across his shoulder blades connecting him to his lineage and the bond connecting his family together. 

Kazansky. Graduate of Class 1986, Top Gun.  

“I know,” Ice said quietly, “I noticed it was missing not long after you left. You know…there's a photo of you in it up on Penny's bar, at the Hard Deck” Ice corrected before chuckling lightly, “You've grown into it well, I remember when you were a scrawny kid and it just dwarfed you but you refused to wear anything else”. 

“I used to take it when you were deployed,” he swallowed, “It was stupid but it made me think that you would come back for it”. 

“Brad's,” Ice sounded wretched, “It was never the hoodie I came back for, it was you”. 

“I know. I know that now. But…it reminds me that maybe one day…you'll come home again”. 

“Bradley-”

“How is everyone” he interrupted sniffing and  swallowed  down his regret. There was a pause, clearly Ice contemplating chasing up the chain of thought before the man sighed reluctantly submitting to the change of subject. 

“Well, you have two new nieces and nephews. Wolf and Wood adopted a little boy three years ago, and Sunny's wife had a surprise kid a few years ago while he was out on deployment, surprising them both” Ice commented dully. 

He frowned in confusion, “But I thought Anna was infertile?”

“So did we” Ice hummed but slowly allowed them to fall into the comfortable lull of the conversation as Ice updated him slowly with everything he missed, careful to add in details he thought were pertinent; like Slider retiring from being an Admiral and becoming a commercial pilot, apparently the man was much happier now. Or Wood and Sunny who had co-opened a bakery and coffee store that they had named ‘the smiley shorts’ which honestly didn't surprise him as much as it should have. Or about how Cougar was working in a hospital under his wife who had been promoted to the chief of surgery. And slowly he started to mend a little more. 

“Bradley baby, you still with me?” 

He blinked tiredly not realizing that he had closed his eyes at some point, he tried to shake sleep from his limbs as it attempted to claim him. He yawned, jaw cracking in the effort as he rolled onto his back tilting his head back towards the phone where it sat on the mattress next to his head. “Pops, right here” he mutters in confirmation, “On your wing”. 

“That's right baby bird” Ice let out a small chuckle “Right on my wing. Talking about wingmen. We’re about to find one”. 

“Mav?”

“Yeah, darling”. The engine spluttered in the background, and he heard the keys jingle as Ice muttered lowly  ‘It's too damn cold for this’ . He listened trying to picture where Ice was as he heard a door opened then the crunch of dirt under boots. He frowned, brows pulling tensely as he tried to picture a desert, or somewhere with a vast amount of land that would allow Mav his solitude but was dry enough to crunch this time of year. He jolted slightly in confusion at the sound of old metal banging against something with a clatter and the loud noise of something heavy rolling. 

He almost wept hearing a tired confused voice, “Ice? Honey what are you doing here? It’s almost 3 am”. Mav sounded the same, that lovering concern that he had been on the receiving end of all those years ago and he could see the way Mavs eyes would be pinched in the corner, lips tilted down as he studied them for any injuries, trying to figure out what had happened before they could form a warped lie. 

“I have someone who wants to talk to you”, this time he could see Ice's smile, the one that bloomed behind his closed eyelids, the small jump in his lips that bloomed into a gentle smile as the phone travelled hands.

“Uh-hello?” Mav asked, sleep still evident in his voice and he slivered at the flash of memories of seeing the man stumble into the kitchen wrapping his arms around Ice’s waist as he pressed a sloppy kiss to the man's check knowing he would swat him for it as he did every day with a grumble only to pair a cheeky grin to Ice’s unimpressed loom. How he would stay attached to Ice for the rest of breakfast swaying with him a step behind the blond seamlessly ducking out of the way without needing to be asked, passing along ingredients to distract Ice from the wondering fingers trying to snatch a piece of bacon front he pan before it was plated only to end up with a lecture and a wooden spoon to his hand. He remembered Mav’s pouting only for him to turn with a wink as he used to stick his tongue out to tease them. 

“Dad?” His voice trembled faced the fact he was speaking to his father for the first time in just under a decade. 

Mav hailed sharply, “Baby?” Mav sounded awake, startled by the concern that dragged into his voice. He sounded  happy , shocked but happy. 

“Dad” His heart slowed his chest aching but relieved as the sense of home finally settled over him. 

Home.  

“Bradley honey what’s wrong?” Mav asked worriedly. 

“He said the hospital called you but you didn’t turn up” Ice rumbled in the background quietly allowing them to have their own moment, no doubt the man had led Mav to sit down holding him close, tugging him into his side. 

He could go home. 

“Shit, I didn’t have my phone- I didn’t realize until after I got here-”

“Dad,” he interrupted the man's panicked rambling with tears in his eyes as he looked down at the goose in his arms that had offered him so much comfort in the last few years but dispite the memories it carried, it was nothing to rival Mav’s hugs, or Ice’s kisses. It wasn't like curling up with Mav on the couch or being tucked in by Ice. It wasn't home. 

“Yes, baby?” 

He took a deep breath trying to push back the emotional overload that once again threatened to overtake him, that clung to him weighing him down in the ocean dragging him further underwater like a parachute filling with water with no tactical knife to free himself with forced to watch the rope tangle around his body trapping him as his body jolted at the lack of air. His voice trembled, breaking as the tears became evident in his voice, “Can I come home?” 

“Of course, baby” Mav sounded choked up almost as if he was crying as well  “God Bradley,  of course, you can come home. You were always welcome home”.

And for the first time in  years  he took a deep breath and his  heart felt  weightless  and  he smiled and thought of home, only this time, it was closer than he thought.

#Title from 'Homesick' by Noah Kahan. #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun fandom #top gun maverick #top gun headcanons #pete maverick mitchell #icemav #bradley rooster bradshaw #reunion #Rooster comes home #the mavdad and icepops of it all #mavdad #icepops

[anistarrose]

I want to talk about the way aromantic experiences can be represented in very meaningful and validating ways without characters being written as intentionally aro, and also I want to talk about aro-spec Magnus Burnsides headcanons. Luckily, I can do both those things in one post!

During the events of the podcast, Magnus is disinterested in and often straight-up uncomfortable with romance, because of the fate that befell his last relationship, with Julia. I've seen a reading (that I don't think is objectively wrong, though I do not personally share it) that interprets this trait of his as some kind of "sacrifice" he's making on Julia's behalf, being a choice to stay out of other relationships to carry on her memory better. It's a reading that seems pretty reasonable at first glance, but not especially aromantic.

(Because if anything, it almost seems at risk of turning into something like "there is no sacrifice more tragic than not having a romantic partner," right? Or worse, "this is a trauma response that needs to be healed for Magnus to have a happy ending, because being able to enjoy romance is vital to his happiness and self-fulfillment." Both of which are... varying levels of uncomfortable, to me as an aro person. Like, I'm not in the business of telling people how to interpret fictional characters, but I personally can't engage with these without a bad feeling in my stomach.)

However! Back to the various potential readings of Magnus's character! It's worth noting that so much of Magnus's arc revolves around unpacking his trauma, from the destruction of Raven's Roost and Julia's death — and that healing process doesn't change how he feels about romance! The Eleventh Hour is the turning point when he starts to seriously re-evaluate what the trauma and loss made him want, versus what Julia would want for him, and what would let him live in the moment instead of in the past... yet in the Heart Attack segment of Wonderland? Magnus still expresses disinterest in dating.

In Arms Outstretched, then Story and Song, he further internalizes and chooses to let himself be saved and ask for help, instead of punishing himself with martyrdom — and no romantic relationships come up in the epilogue! When he passes away after a long, happy life, it's Carey, — his best friend! — who holds his hand while they wait for the end!

Magnus's reasons for not wanting another relationship are obviously complex — not just a conclusion about himself that he came to lightly, regardless of whether he's on the aromantic spectrum, not on it at all, or deliberately not choosing a label. What makes his arc so unique and special to me, in contrast with almost every other story about traumatized characters finding a happy ending, is that his happy ending isn't contingent on romance! Whenever he says that he's that not into dating, no one doubts him or tries to undermine him (other than Lydia, who's literally trying to feed on his suffering), and to me, an aro listener...

Well, the way the narrative takes Magnus's wants and lack thereof seriously is just so refreshing.

Ninety percent of characters in fiction who repeatedly stress that they don't want romance or marriage are only shown doing so to set up for the narrative later proving them wrong. It's to contrast with that later point in the story where they "find the right person," or "understand when they're older." Or "stop being so cold," or "stop acting like they're too fucked-up and 'damaged'." Or "overcome their trauma."

It has an air of "wow, isn't this character so ridiculous, for thinking they won't change their mind later?" Or occasionally, "isn't it so tragic, that they can't envision themselves being loved?"

For protagonist-y characters, for heroic characters like Magnus — for any type of character in which "happily ever after" is considered a plausible, fair-game, genre-acceptable outcome — we see the genre conventions also dictate that "settling down in a romance" and the "happy ending" are intertwined. I've seen TAZ posts from back in the era of The Suffering Game/The Stolen Century airing, expressing sentiments like "Magnus not finding someone to love again would be so tragic and mean-spirited, I hate grim and edgy endings like that." While I can appreciate people trying to subvert tropes like "you can only have one 'true love' in all your life," the incredibly non-subversive and ultra-amatonormative belief that "romance is a prerequisite for a happy ending, or even healing arc" is such a deeply unfortunate one to tag on.

I am aromantic. I don't want a romantic relationship. And I find joy in that! I refuse to accept that I need to be "fixed" or "healed" to live a long, happy life, because I'm not broken! What brings me the most joy beyond just living as an aro is seeing stories actually acknowledge that people can find this happiness without romance — like how Magnus's story does! Like how casually and matter-of-factly it subverts expectations — how Magnus says he doesn't want another relationship, and no one comes along to prove him wrong! He doesn't "find the right person" because at this particular phase of his life, and of how he wants to live, there isn't one in a romantic context!

He heals from his trauma enough to find all kinds of joy — doing things he loves, surrounded by people he loves — and not because of, or in service of pursuing, a romantic relationship!

I almost never see fantasy stories where one of the heroes gets to have an arc like that. An arc where they get to live out an ending that I would want. A happy ending that would be happy for me! For people like me!

Magnus Burnsides gives me so much Aromantic Hope. That this is a kind of happy ending that I am not the only one to idealize, and that I could attain, no matter what horrors are being thrown at me in the present. Magnus dies peacefully, after years of assuming that he wouldn't, and he does so surrounded by his dearest friends and family. Who are all so proud of the life that he lived. Magnus was true to himself, to what he felt would bring him healing and fulfillment — instead of what cliché and expectation dictated to him — and he was completely at peace in the end. Ready to rush in one final time.

I immensely doubt that Travis intended for Magnus's to be an aromantic story in those words, if at all. But Magnus's story resonates so, so much with so many common aromantic experiences. And that means so much to me. I'm so grateful for that. In this day and age, in this world, I needed that.

I needed to have a good long cry about Magnus Burnsides. Aromantic icon, intentional or not.

...

...Of course, because this is tumblr, I want to make a clarification. This isn't some kind of claim like "shipping Magnus with people other than Julia is problematic." It is, however, a thesis statement that "no such ship becoming canon makes Magnus's arc so much more unique." It's an explanation giving full context to how I'm biased, not objective, but willing to argue that it makes his arc so much more meaningful, too.

And most of all, it's a desire to shine a light on a side of Magnus's character and growth that I think goes underdiscussed. Especially underdiscussed through an aro-spec lens. And speaking of which:

Sure I said I don't think Magnus was intended as an aro-spec character, or that he can only be interpreted as such — but if you made it this far, you know I think this ruff boi's just chock full of aro-spec subtext! So just for fun — and because the world is always deserving of more aro-spec headcanons — let's end this post playing with some different readings of him as aro-spec!

Gray-Aro or Demiromantic Magnus who rarely falls for people to begin with. Why would it be some tragic heroic sacrifice to remain "chaste" and wait for Julia, when not being into romance is just Magnus's default state of being? He's so confused about why people think he's making some tragic sacrifice! So confused, guys! I even wrote a fic about the gray-aro HC a few months ago (link)!

Gray-Aro or Demi Magnus who thought he was just aromantic, no attraction whatsoever, for over a century — until he met Julia, and fell for her (perhaps very, very slowly). But that doesn't change those years gaining perspective as a platonically, familialy loving aro who values those bonds immensely, and always wanted them to remain a prominent part of his life.

Losing Julia devastates him, of course it does — but especially once he remembers the Stolen Century, he knows he has a long-term support system no matter what, and it won't revolve around chasing that unlikely possibility of feeling romantic love again. Why would it? Why would he need to chase something so fickle just to heal?

Aromantic Magnus who feels no romantic attraction, but in the era of Raven's Roost, doesn't not want a romantic relationship. Except, he doesn't after all. Except wait, he kinda does, it's just complicated. Maybe something queerplatonic? Well, he really likes the idea of a wedding, and that's not necessarily mutually exclusive, but there's no guarantee his partner would feel that way too, and...

There's just these expectations that go with dating or marriage, of partners expecting him to love them in such a specific way that he knows he can't... and then he meets Julia, who's a romance-seeking aromantic too, with heavily overlapping feelings. Bonding over their similarities leads to dating, and eventually marrying, over a deep platonic love that may or may not still involve cuddles or kisses, or a desire to start a family. They don't panic too much over the labels — they're just so delighted to be with someone on the same wavelength!

When Julia dies, so much goes through Magnus's head. After a while, he can't help but start thinking again about how rare it is for people to want the same things out of a relationship that he does. Or to consider the way he feels for them to be enough. But as time passes, Magnus comes to terms with it more and more. He's happy to wait for Julia again. After all, he's longing, but not lonely. Mourning, but not incomplete.

Aromantic Magnus who is aromantic specifically because of his trauma, but no less aromantic for it. He just can't bear the thought of getting into a relationship again. Ironically, there's a point in time where he thought of himself as a romantic — back while he and Julia were courting each other — that now feels simultaneously so close and so distant. Magnus who has so much to grieve, and grieves this romantic side of him too — at first. Who thinks that there's only two options, for a folk hero in a story like his — settling down to live happily ever after, or dying in battle. And if there's nothing more upsetting, more uncomfortable, than getting married again — then living happily ever after has got to be off the table, right?

Magnus who slowly realizes that doesn't have to be the case. That no, barring seeing Julia again, he certainly doesn't have reason to believe that even time will change this new, alienating part of him — but maybe, it's not so alien after all. Maybe he knows people who won't even question it. Maybe he doesn't have to change it or overcome it to be happy again.

Why is romance some singular thing he has to chase, in order to settle down peacefully again? Why can't he do it with his friends? With his dogs?

And last, Questioning Magnus who might be aro, who might not be aro, and is maybe most likely to be something in between. But it's hard to tell; he's honestly not sure if he'll ever crack it, and.. ultimately, he's okay with that. Because all that matters to him is knowing he doesn't need a relationship to be complete, to take full advantage of his well-earned happy ending — and he's got a great grasp on that one, surrounded by people who never make him doubt it.

Aromantic Magnus Burnsides. Aro-Spec Magnus Burnsides. My aromantically beloved. Thanks, bud, for all the hope when I needed it.

#taz #taz balance #taz balance spoilers #magnus burnsides #aspec taz #taz meta #long post

[eddiestommy]

actually no i can't be normal and stop thinking about this post and this post and hurting my own feelings because like

here's eddie diaz who's not very good at making friends he doesn't work with and who's so repressed even the pope thinks it's a tad bit much and he's meeting this older firefighter pilot who's so fucking cool and he's got so much in common with and he actually wants to be friends with him. and eddie's never had a friend he can actually talk sports and martial arts with, someone who actually understands the trauma of being in the army, and maybe tommy also comes from a family like his that's not without love and it wasn't exactly bad but his parents never truly understood him or supported him in anything. maybe tommy is also an older brother who had to take the mantle of "man of the house" because his dad was too detached from it, had to take too many responsibilities at an early age.

and eddie just connects with this dude in a way that he's never connected with anyone besides buck and even then, there's things buck can't never understand but tommy does. so he starts hanging out with this guy, starts texting him and talking with him basically anytime he's not on call or with his son

and one day he brings up this fight he's excited for and asks tommy if he'd want to watch it with him and tommy's like "actually, i've got a mate who got me two ringside tickets for it and i've been looking for someone to go with, you'd be interested?" and eddie is over the moon about it. he's nearly giggling and kicking his feet up as he calls carla to ask if she can look after chris overnight because he's going to fucking vegas with a friend. when he arrives at harbour to get on the chopper tommy is flying them to vegas in he's just a bit disappointed to see buck is there too but it's also great because buck is his best friend and he loves him and he's the only person who ever made eddie feel this way once upon a time (and he's trying so hard not to think too much about that) so it's great they're friends too but actually, no, buck's not coming and eddie feels only a little bit bad that he's relieved about it.

so they go to the fight and it's fucking great and tommy gets into it just as much as eddie is. after the fight they go out for drinks with tommy's promoter friend and they get a little drunk and in that drunken haze he lets himself think about the things he usually tries to keep at bay. he thinks about how cool and impressive tommy is but also about how fucking hot he is, he's 300lb of muscle and the strength he's got, how easily he'd manhandled eddie when they were practicing muay thai the other day, how when he looked on top of eddie when he pinned him to the floor and how eddie had wanted to taste the sweat on his muscles, lick the vein in his neck, get those hands that were holding him touching way below. but he gets a hold of himself and when they get to their hotel room with the two queen size beds he makes himself stop thinking about they way he wants to touch him everywhere, find out if he can make him make some of the noises from their sparring session in a different context. tries not to think about how his cock would feel on his hand, how tommy would look as he came.

so anyway, they get back to LA the next morning and eddie tries his best to pretend he never thought any of that and then the basketball game from hell happens and tommy tells him he's gonna talk to buck, try and make peace and eddie doesn't think twice about it, they're both his friends and they would get along well. when he sees them hanging out at the restaurant he pretends that what he feels at the pit of his stomach isn't jealousy, and later that week he only wonders a little bit if marisol being a nun before truly is the only reason why he can't have sex with her anymore, if the fact that sometimes when he sinks into her deep in his brain in a corner he never goes to he thinks about a different person, one with broader shoulders and strong pecs instead of breasts isn't part of it too.

and then he's in buck's kitchen and buck's telling him "it was a date" and when eddie asks "wait, tommy's gay?" it has nothing to do with buck and all to do with him knowing in an instant that if he'd known that back in vegas he might have risked it, might have followed his deepest desires and touch tommy like he wanted to. but now his best friend is talking about him with that doe eyed look in his eyes and eddie knows that means he really likes him and eddie does his best to push his own feelings aside because that's what he's good at and buck needs him to be supportive, that he's being vulnerable and confessing something scary to him and eddie wishes he could be like that, too, so he tells him to call tommy even though eddie wants him to do the opposite, wants to be the one tommy kissed in the kitchen and took on a date

he's not lying, exactly, when he tells buck he also likes tommy but not in that way, because whatever buck feels for tommy can't compare to what eddie's going through. he doesn't know if his desire outweighs the shame, doesn't know if he'd be able to be like buck and jump straight into it with blind hope, he knows he'd never be able to talk about it tho. not for a long while. and when he goes home that night and he's laying on his marisol-free bed staring at the roof he gives himself permission to be fucking angry that buck gets to have what he wants so bad, lets himself be a shitty friend and wish tommy maybe also wants eddie the way he wants him, want him more than he wants buck.

in the morning he'll feel guilty about it, in the morning he will be the supportive friend buck needs. but tonight he wallows in his jealousy and his anger and his shame and if he comes from jerking off a little too hard with tommy's name in his mouth no one has to fucking know about it.

#be normal about eddietommy challege! epic fail! #anyway!!! #911 #eddietommy #buddietommy #it obviously all ends in a happy ending where it turns out buck is more than happy to share his boyfriend with his bestie and tommy's got #enough heart and stamina to love and fuck both of them #tv:911 #ship:eddietommy #ship:buddietommy #//hayden #//fanfiction #bucktommy #i am planning on writing this i just feel wrong doing it at work and won't be free until saturday and i still have my other qpr buddietommy #fic i need to finish before i do this one :/

[starlightswordfight]

FINALLY HC POSTING ABOUT THE KOPPAITES!!!!

– alph is not cis I don't know what to tell you. I personally really really like transmasc alph but I think it works in any direction you want to take it

– my god he is the second youngest of fifteen siblings. did not ever know an ounce of privacy OR of peace and quiet until he moved out, and now is incredibly sensitive to noise. he loves his family so dearly but It Got Loud In There. uses noise cancelling headphones during his work ONLY when it is safe for him to do so

– god awful sleep schedule PLEASE help him get out

– has an alarm for literally everything

– I think he would enjoy scrapbooking if he knew what it was

– makes this face often

– brittany, to my knowledge, is the only person in all four games to have a dress-like spacesuit! I like to think she made the adjustments herself or specifically requested for hers to look like that somehow

– wears glasses because of astigmatism. as it can be hereditary, this also applies to nelle. they're cousins but a LOT of their side of the family has it so they just are coping

– used to collect a lot of physical books but kept forgetting to actually read them and now she downloads books instead and also forgets where the downloads are so we are getting NO reading in

– she has a bad habit of hanging onto everything "in case we need it someday" and I mean EVERYTHING. she's working on it we're doing better

– charlie should've been an ornithologist and I do not know why he isn't one. I think he just keeps his interests separate from his work. ignore the rubber ducky rescue missions

– she loves board games!! she also gets Very Very Competitive

– this one is kind of canon if you pay attention but I want to note anyway that she sleeps like a rock. when she's out she's out. hydrogen bomb detonation would not startle her

– he's good friends with nelle, actually! went to her once when elizabeth was under the weather

– in canon he has also interacted with dobbs in the past, though they've since stopped interacting, which I believe is because of a falling out/some kind of big argument that they both regret but still refuse to work out

– gives his friends additional rubber ducks For Luck

– that overinflated ego is, to a degree, exaggerated. charlie in actuality is not half as confident as he acts. fake it til you make it

– walks into rooms then leaves the door open when he walks out and everyone hates it

– dobbs has a lot of scars, actually! the vast majority of them do not have any dramatic or harrowing reasoning. they're all mishaps. has one on his arm from trying to cook once and leaning it on the hot ass pan like I did and now it won't ever go away. the Battle with the Mashed Potato Ball

– WORLD'S WORST LIAR

– has a lot of different proficiencies/certifications, and some are very ... very specific. glad to know that you can forklift, don

– talks like "now listen here, pal" and "newsflash buddy" sometimes

– most likely to have a comically large backpack with every item in it would be don

– nelle has a debilitating caffeine dependency

– he should be good at cooking as a treat. this took years of practice; the mashed potato ball incident was a means to an end. I can't keep referencing my own leftover scar backstory. can they even fucking eat vegetables post cancelled everyone go home

– I think she should be a secret nerd for enrichment purposes. get her in tabletop and it's all over

– she has those mugs with the really really overly specific messages on them like how some t-shirts do it and none of them apply to her

– prone to migraines. they may be chronic. I'm sorry nelle I love you

– hi! my personal hc is that her and brittany are cousins. I just know that canonically they are Not sisters but basically anything else goes? anyway brittany's auntie bea is nelle's mom

– hi so yorke and dobbs while on pnf-404 have definitely directly worked with schnauz about perfecting the treasure apprasial AI

– type of person to bring more than one umbrella when it's raining

– energy drinks are to yorke what coffee is to nelle. don is so deeply worried about them both

– had an emo phase and only escaped it partially

– yorke has more than definitely made really overly complicated machines/systems before to solve really mundane or stupid problems. "they call me the goldberg" "they WHAT?"

– REALLY GOOD at procrastinating

– I know this man has shrimp posture. that has GOT to hurt

#pikmin #pikmin 3 #pikmin 4 #pikmin headcanons #alph pikmin #brittany pikmin #charlie pikmin #DOES DON NOT HAVE A TAG? #WHAT IS HAPPENING AROUND HERE #nelle pikmin #yorke pikmin

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

*t-poses into inbox* TIS I! 🎨 ANON!

We don’t talk about how I had to spend 5 minutes making sure this complies to your rules because I have a lot of mental disorders so I had to make sure this doesn’t cater to them lmaoooo

My hyperfixation is Tokyo Ghoul despite it being literal YEARS but whatever (I’m watching it again currently)

Ayato Kirishima with a male!S/O who has a hard time controlling his kagune (i.e when he’s scared he accidentally activates his kagune, when he’s angry it’s there. You can essentially think of it as emotion based) so he has a hard time hunting for food and doesn’t like to go out in public because of that

If you need more I gotchu but do your other requests before mine I know I get priority but nah I can wait

Kirishima Ayato - With Ghoul Male Reader Who Can't Control His Kagune

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Hello 🎨pallette anon, I'm finally going to write your request after however long after you sent it to me. Sorry about that by the way, college classes have been a major reason why my posting schedule has been all over the place, I swear I meant to get to this sooner. Anywho, I hope this is to your liking, and once again sorry for the delay. —Benny🐰

Warnings -> Mentioned Death, Mentioned Cannibalism, Mentioned Murder, Alluded Past Trauma, Ayato Being a Sweety

                                                                                                   

🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀

🐇 While he definitely wouldn't say it out loud, Ayato is incredibly concerned about you almost every hour of the day, though when he has important matters to attend to that worry is pushed to the background but is certainly still there. He's worried that you'll end up getting caught and killed or worse taken and experimented on by the CCG, so he's the slightest bit thankful that you stay inside more often than not. Ayato does make sure to drop by your place often to see if you're still there, and if you go out he makes you tell him what you're leaving for and the exact time you left through the front door, he's not fucking around when it comes to your safety.

🐇  Usually Ayato hunts for the both of you, he wants you to be able to go and get food on your own eventually, but until he's able to help you keep your emotions in check a bit better he won't allow it. He may or may not enjoy being relied on by his cute boyfriend, but you didn't hear that from me. When he brings home a meal, he'll snack on it on the way to your place, but don't worry, he always makes sure to leave your favorite parts alone; Ayato just adores when you give him that happy grin while your cheeks are stuffed with the flesh of his latest game.

🐇  Often if you begin to have a panic attack or have strong emotions and your kagune begins to show itself, Ayato will 'reluctantly' grab onto your hand and give it a comforting squeeze. Although that squeeze tends to be a bit too tight most of the time and leaves you with an aching hand afterward, but don't tell him that, he'll beat himself up for accidentally hurting you and won't touch you again for quite a while after that. If you're both at home, Ayato will drag you into bed and pull you against his chest, his hand rubbing your lower back under your emerged kagune to coax you into slumber.

🐇 When you both go out, be it for house essentials, food, or new clothes to replace the ones permanently stained with blood, Ayato always stands behind you and watches for potential threats or things that may stress you out. Suppose he sees that something is beginning to upset you, he'll grab you by the arm and physically turn you away from it, distracting you with an interesting object that's being displayed in a shop window or quietly telling you a piece of information about himself that you didn't know. Ayato is a pretty closed-off person even to those he's closest to, so he uses these hidden nuggets of information to his advantage whenever he's taking care of you.

🐇  Ayato is a very busy person, so he can't be with you as often as he'd like to be; to solve this problem, he's taken to leaving you little gifts around your place. A cute rabbit phone charm that he asked Uta to help him paint to look like his old mask, a few of his hoodies, random stuffed animals that he found on the side of the road, a couple of severed fingers for you to snack on in a take-out box, anything he thinks will make you feel better, to be honest. One time Ayato even went out and bought you one of those cute squeaky stress balls whose eyes pop out when you squeeze them, it was a rabbit of course.

🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀•♡•🫀

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my masterlist!

#hunn1e bunn1e's ask box #ask box #answered asks #answered #answered anon #ask #asks #answered ask #🎨pallette anon #male reader #tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul ayato #tokyo ghoul kirirshima ayato #tokyo ghoul x reader #tokyo ghoul x male reader #kirishima ayato #kirishima ayato x reader #kirishima ayato x male reader #ayato kirishima #ayato kirishima x reader #ayato kirishim x male reader #ayato #ayato x reader #ayato x male reader #tokyo ghoul ayato kirishima

[threepandas]

Bird4Bird Part 2: Yandere Hawks

(Experimenting with tenses n povs, bear with me, will post the whole thing together in the one I/you guys like best, once it's done.)

His patrol is the exact sort of boring that he both hates and loves. On one hand? More time for flying. Freedom from the office. The watching eyes of... everybody, really. But on the OTHER hand? Boooooored. SO bored!

He's not MADE for bored!

Not that there WEREN'T distraction from said boredom below him. There definitely WERE. God, so SO many. Shiny, fascinating, fast moving distractions. ALL sorts of things to pick apart and hunt down. Rip apart and eat. And fans. So, SO many fans.

Noise and life and stimulus. Calculations and social masks.

He bet he could find a kitten in a tree somewhere.

There had to be at least ONE, rig-?

An explosion catches the corner of his eye. He snaps around, mid air, changing trajectory. Thank FUCK! Excitement fizzing even as cool attention calms him. Warm sunlight heating his back, the smell of smoke already starting to reach him, the rush of wind flying past? Is there anything better?

His eyes take in the scene as he arrives.

Botched takedown. Heavily armed combatant. Panicked crowd. He's already send feathers forward when? The combatant panics, seeing him arrive. Throws everything he has indiscriminately. Probably hoping to overwhelm him. Ha! Cute. Pointless, though.

He's already dragging civilians out of the way, when?

Children's voices. High and panicked. Screaming. The combatant had one last bomb. Is trying to run. Probably thinks he'll have to choose, as though he can't be-...

Wings...

Magnificent, powerful, WINGS. Massive and sweeping. Every feather an unbreakable shield. Catching the light, past smoke and fires, white and a brown so dark it bordered on black or grey. The patterns of a harpy eagle...

A mesmerizing golden sheen, almost impossible for anyone but those with enhanced eyes to pick up, surged from the base of them. Like the spread of smooth ink across paper, the slide of silk against skin. A glint covering those magnificent wings in GOLD.

Quirk?

No. No, concentrate. His Feather grabs the bomb from the air and flings it upwards. To explode harmlessly in open air. He catches the menace blindly behind him. Honestly, he's done far harder with far less. He can't look away.

Even as those wings, still domed up, shuffle to safety. Move ever so gently, like a grand reveal, to release a veritable HOARD of roughed up kids. Some of whom are still clinging to their savior for dear life. Snot and tears everywhere. They bear it with surprising grace.

They're... they're HUGE~

Not a Heros build, but..? Just STANDING there they look like a threat. They clearly can't help it. Clearly have made efforts to NOT look like one. Have tracked down the cutesiest Hero Merch available to slap on their body, like might help.

It's like looking staring down a pissed off alligator in a princess tiara. There WAS An Effort! He'll give her that!

His face threatens to break out into a VERY un-PR friendly, mean little snicker. It's... God it's so FUCKIN CUTE~. She's so big. Trying to make herself so non-threatening. It's never gonna work. Any PR team worth their pay would tell her to just give up and pick a different gimmick. But... but God, those WINGS!

He HAS to know her flight speed.

So he waves off the complaining newbies he wasn't actually listening too, makes appropriate noises to the appropriate people as he passes. And makes his way over. As he get closer? Oh~?

What a SUPRISE. She's getting ripped into by local law enforcement. Which, fair, she DID use her Quirk. But that's not what HE'S talking about. He didn't even see it. He's talking about her WINGS.

Well, well, well. He KNOWS he didn't just hear local law enforcement threaten JAIL TIME over a MUTATION, did he? That's an abuse of power! He can arrest YOU for that, officer~. He decides to cut in.

"Problem, officer?" He chirps.

His hand going to his new friends shoulder in solidarity. The officer jerks to attention. But the living STEEL under his hand? Jerks violently. She jumps. It's only years of training and the warning he got from his hand physically touching her shoulder, feeling her muscles start to move, that saves him a concussion.

The wing closest to him slams out like a battering ram, flicking into an extension just to force him back further. She spins to face him. Eyes locked on, teeth unknowingly bared. And... oh. Oh~!

She has a HARPY Quirk~

Cute like fangs that can probably rip through bone, eyes like his, TALONS that dip the tips of her fingers in a black so deep and glossy, ink masters would weep in envy. And the muscles. Far beyond an athlete. Not quite a top 50 hero, but better then most hero students by far. Not balanced for fighting though, those are PURELY wing and exercise muscles.

And the longer he openly assesses? The more of her teeth are bared. The bigger her wings fluff up. The more her hands spread into clawed, furious, weapons. Ready to swing at his head. Her eyes slowly lighting with aggravation and confrontational aggression.

He used to get like this too. HATED being stared at. He got it trained out of him.

He... he can't help it.

It's too cute. She's SO MAD. He knows he shouldn't. He's supposed to be a top 5 hero. The commission's golden boy. Everyone's watching. Always IS. He needs to behave himself, remember his PR training.

Don't. Do. The Thing...

He reaches out and tugs a feather. She has a mean right hook.

He gets yeeeeeelled at. Sad face. His handlers want to throw the book at her. For once, he puts his foot down. Absolutely Not. HE started that fight. HE'S the one who should have known better. He doesn't CARE if her records show she's a "trouble maker"! (That's a lie. He's CURIOUS now~. Oooooh~ What did you DO, lil harpy? Vengeance? Justice? Speeding ticket?)

They let it go.

He? He does NOT. He knows he should. This is a Bad Habit of his. No, WAS. It WAS a Bad Habit. He's BETTER then this now. There were trainers. Psychological exams. Drugs. All FIXED now! Promise! See? Doesn't even have that Endeavor collection he used to keep.

TOTALLY forgot how they tore it away from him. Destroyed it. Ha ha! He barely even REMEMBERS the EXACT Face, Name, Current Location, and Home Address of every single individual involved in THAT little incident! He's let it GO! Forgot about it, really. Yeeeep, the panic and rage DEFINITELY don't keep him up at night. The helplessness. As they took what was HIS-!!

Deeeep inhale. Exhale. Remember to smile!

So, yeah.

Where was he? Right! His Bad Habit That He DOES NOT HAVE ANYMORE. Because he's FIXED now. All better! He's just... taking responsibility, you know? Wants the chance to keep messing with her. Maybe see if he can get a glorious creature like that her very own flyers license.

Cause, DAMN. Wings like THOSE should be airborne.

God he wants to race her so bad.

Luckily~ he's hired the BEST lawyers. (Love you Tadashi~ say hi to your boo~) and the Judge? A big Fan! Yay, FAVORS! (Guess where YOUR going, little hunter? Run but you can't hiiiiide~) She? Looks SO unimpressed to see him? It's GREAT.

She's even WORSE in a suit. It's hilarious.

Maybe it's just THAT suit. God it's so frumpy. What, did she find it in the "generics weekly" catalog? She should wear armor. Ooooh, a flight suit! Something form fitting and sleeveless to show off them GUNS. Never thought HE'D get to be the one who feels dainty in a relationship, but...

Ah. Wait.

Gotta HAVE a relationship, first...

Unfortunately? Tall, buff, and gorgeous is so pissed to BE here? It's unlikely she'll notice any subtle flirtations....

He's not sure what his face is doing, but the expression is enough to make her HISS, wings mantling in a threat display.

Oh, yeah. Oh this is gonna be FUN~♡

#threepandas #yandere #yandere hawks #yandere mha #yandere bnha #bnha hawks #hawks x reader #mha hawks #bird4bird au #we starting to see peeks of it~ #buff reader #hawks kink is Strong n Grumpy #look at me n tell me im lying #endevor dabi n Reader? #can slam him against a wall and will threaten to eat his entrails #jokes on them #he's IN to that shit! #harder daddy/mommy says local lil shit birb

[autismserenity]

I'm so fucking done right now

I have a friend. We're going to call her "AAAAAAA!!!!"

AAAAAAA!!!! and I have been friends for more than twenty years. LONG before I started converting to Judaism.

She grew up in an area Jewish enough to get the high holy days off. She has as many Jewish friends as I do. She is more knowledgeable about Jewish stuff than anyone else I know who isn't Jewish. To the point that I've sometimes thought about asking her why she doesn't convert.

Sure, she's a staunch atheist. So nu?

I don't think we'd ever had occasion to talk about I/P politics before a couple of years ago. We immediately discovered we had uhhhhh. Very opposing views. We both backed off of what was clearly going to be a charged and messy discussion.

I didn't know enough yet to try anyway. All I knew, mainly, was that (1) Jews are the indigenous people of Israel and (2) both Israel and Palestine have Done Bad Shit!

That's a very, very, very inadequate understanding. But I did feel pretty confident that point #1 contradicted her apparent stance, which was more "Israel is the one that has Done Bad Shit."

We backed off for a couple of years. She would occasionally mention how much she wished I would read Edward Said, so we could talk about him.

She is, to her credit, totally against Hamas's attack. But we conflict on most other issues. And they're so charged for her that we can't really talk about any of them.

It turns out that the reason they're so charged is that her niece got yelled at and called out for "being an antisemite" for supporting BDS in college, and it was traumatizing for her.

In other words, she and her family stopped at "I had really really big feelings of shame and fear about this," and chose not to see "and I tried to find out why this marginalized group was saying that" as an option.

And also, AAAAAAA!!!!'s sister, a local elementary school principal, went through a stressful time recently for similar reasons: Jewish families were accusing her and/or her school of being antisemitic, and one (1) family left.

AAAAAAAA!!!! set the boundary, with me, that we should not talk about the definition of antisemitism, or antisemitism related to the protest movement, after I posted a list of things on Facebook that the ADL is charging the Berkeley Unified School District with.

Including that K-12 students have been saying and/or writing, "Kill the Jews," "Jews are stupid," "Of course it was the Jews," and telling Jewish peers, "I don't like your people."

My friend is angrily convinced that "such accusations are a flood of SEWAGE smeared on protesters, professors, etc. I am not saying there is no antisemitism, though Berkeley is a very weird place for it to crop up in the from-zero-to-a-thousand way it is described. Of course there can be a) isolated incidents that hit fucking hard in these circumstances, and b) deliberate elisions between, again, being against what Israel is doing, and having that portrayed as being antisemitic."

/looks at the camera/

All of this is just context for what I came here to say 😅

I WAS TONIGHT YEARS OLD WHEN I FOUND OUT WHAT EDWARD SAID WROTE, AND WHAT THE ENTIRE FUCK. FUCK THAT DUDE TWICE.

Constantine Zurayk's fiction that the “Arab nation” suffered the Nakba didn’t survive for long. [By 1967,] the meaning of the Nakba had already changed as Palestinian activists and historians began depicting the events of 1948 exclusively as a tragedy for their own people.

...The most influential of those [new books that framed it that way,] particularly for audiences in the West, was Edward W. Said’s The Question of Palestine, published in 1979.

Said, a popular Columbia University English professor [OH HELLO] and a member of the Palestinian National Council, was something of an icon in liberal intellectual circles because of his earlier book, Orientalism. In that work, Said framed the history of colonialism in the Arab and Islamic world within a system of Western racialist thought.

I'm just gonna guess that he didn't go back farther than 50 years. Because before that point, you get 1,300 years or so of Arab and Islamic colonialism, and I don't know how it would make sense to frame that within a system of Western racialist thought.

In The Question of Palestine, the author argued that the game was stacked against the native Palestinians in favor of the white Zionists, because of the same dominant racist ideologies.

THAT'S HIM, OFFICER. THAT'S THE GUY.

That's what my friend has been trying to get me to read for three years? An ahistoric mess that pretends Jews were actually white supremacists at the time that white supremacy was actively trying to wipe us out?

I'M SO TIRED, YOU GUYS.

Said denounced “the entrenched cultural attitude toward Palestinians deriving from age-old Western prejudices about Islam, the Arabs, and the Orient. This attitude, from which in its turn Zionism drew for its view of the Palestinians, dehumanized us, reduced us to the barely tolerated status of a nuisance.”

Yeah, THAT'S what happened.

“Certainly, so far as the West is concerned,” Said continues, “Palestine has been a place where a relatively advanced (because European) incoming population of Jews has performed miracles of construction and civilizing and has fought brilliantly successful technical wars against what was always portrayed as a dumb, essentially repellent population of uncivilized Arab natives.”

This was a harsh and distorted view of the Zionist movement.

I said I was so fucking done, and what I MEANT was that I was so fucking angry, and NOW I'M TEXTING HER SUPPORTIVELY ABOUT OTHER STUFF WHILE I WRITE THIS.

I just.

Please drag Edward Said for me or otherwise Go Off. Thank you

#jumblr #i just never have an opportunity to say 'so nu' and it's been in my head for most of my life #she's supposed to care about history and accuracy but family shit overrides all that #she said if something antisemitic happens to me or my kid i SHOULD tell her and i was like WHY #and you know what? never got a response #wall of words

[doctorweebmd]

i love the comments on the latest chapter of the path to paradise where people are like 'akutagawa leave those crabs alone!'

because that's something I do

literally traveling the world's oceans, harassing all of God's crustaceans

for example took a weekend trip with my partner for our 6 year wedding anniversary a few days ago and spent a solid multiple hours searching for and harassing crabs

here is photo evidence of the largest and most in-chargest one I found:

#i love crabs a lot what can i say #you can't tell from the picture but this dude was like baseball-sized #more proof that in a past life i was one of those mentally ill victorian ladies that got sent to the seaside for their 'health' #i love the ocean a lot. i still feel viscerally ill when i think about moving back to my home state #its a beautiful place and there's nothing wrong with it #but i would miss being so close to the water. #(i have to find a real job in like six months or so so we've been talking about where i should apply) #we really want to stay in the city we live in now but there's no jobs (for me) #as is often the issue about highly populated and nice west-coast cities #its oversaturated with people that want to stay #which ends up being an issue because you have no bargaining power and they pay shit (relatively) #also like. say what you will. but i hate weather #if i could live forever in a place that never snows i'd be perfectly happy #our parents also really want us to move back to our home state #we dont plan on having kids but i do feel guilty being far away from them for so long #sorry i'm gonna unleash some 'personal' posts today because i just have to type some stuff out to think it through #i have like 3 followers on here so i'm not too worried lmao

[edelorion]

#edel vents #disclaimer: really personal issues in the tags. also wishes of death upon others. this is PROBABLY too much information tbh... #so if you're not up for it scroll down fast!!!! the deluge is coming!!! #today was... eventful. bad. also very bad. grandma's birthday celebration was today #and while she... definitely has Old People Issues (racist) shes also very lonely since the death of my grandfather so i can't really not go #i'm the only one who really visits her regularly to begin with #aside from the... very serious racism issue... she's “alright”. i guess. but that's besides the point. there's family there #and among those... my parents. which i don't like to talk to #discovered they threw more of my old stuff away. typical. wanted to strangle them. as usual. #had to “talk” with my mother (read: spend approximately ten seconds reciting exactly why i *don't* talk to her anymore) #so that whole ordeal completely soured my mood. #went home tired. can't really do anything right now. #at least the food was good i guess. but i also really want to cry... which i can't. which sucks. #...i really like to think i've improved as a person. i used to be really hateful of everything and everyone #worst of all myself. still kinda do but i'm... getting better..? #i like to think i've grown past most of it but every time i see my parents i feel this gripping at my heart. as if i haven't really changed #as if instead i'm still the hateful person i “always was” deep down... bc there's this visceral joy that i feel whenever i'm mad at them. #when i looked at my mother and told her how much i despise her i felt a shiver of happiness. righteousness. #to be clear: i do NOT care for her. at all. she's the worst person on this earth #and the only person whom my philosophy of “nobody deserves to die” does NOT apply to. i'm not scared of hating her. #she genuinely deserves this. but...every time i see my parents - and thus her... i feel as if i'm slipping back into that mindset of hatred #i don't want that. not anymore. it consumed me whole. i was a horrible person back then and i've caused so much grief for so many #i can't let go of this hatred. i can't forgive them. they don't deserve my forgiveness anyway. but i'm tired of hating. #i'm tired of letting that hatred define me. i'm tired of letting that hatred direct me. i'm tired of letting it bring me to ruin. #i'm tired of being who i was. i'm no longer “that”. i'm edel now and i'm happy for people now. if i don't like something i just walk out. #i can just leave. “if it sucks hit the bricks” right?.. but i didn't. i had to say it. i had to tell them. her. and i liked it. #and... i'm scared of that. because it tells me i haven't improved. #i'm not sure what i'm expecting out of posting this i guess. maybe help. maybe i wanna be told that this is normal or something. #maybe i just want to get my thoughts in order. i don't know. i'm gonna stop writing now. #sorry for making you read all this. thanks for doing it anyway. tags were cut off on this one btw so it may look like a mess. but. yeah.

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

analyzing hermes, emet-selch, the ancients and ascians, how they're written, and the fandom's reaction to them be like hm. emet-selch's role in this fuckery is compounded by the fact that his backstory as a genocide survivor is incongruous with his ruling a huge genocidal colonialist world power in the present da [ANTISEMITISM BLAST]

#ffxiv #ffxiv hermes #emet-selch #i have Posts in Me to write up about the subject but like you can maybe immediately start connecting some dots here lmao #hermes and the ancients lie at the intersection of A Lot of Shit That is Very Important to Me #the vast majority of it having to do with gaslighting in various different forms #one of those posts is going into how his story reminds me eerily of what Questioning Things in an abusive evangelical environment is like #and how the fandom instantly jumping straight to OH SO YOU THINK THE ANCIENTS SHOULD HAVE BEEN GENOCIDED IS THAT IT #YOU THINK THEY SHOULD BE INFANTILIZED AND CIVILIZED BY THE SUPERIOR MORALS OF YOUR OWN CULTURE IS THAT IT #and start throwing around words like 'sympathizer'; if you say 'hermes was right about some shit actually' #'what we see of the ancients' society is full of inexcusably horrific shit which does not get a pass for ~different values~' #smacks strongly to me of evangelical crybullying in the name of Cultural Sensitivity #and how people use 'well it's not my business what other cultures think is right or wrong' as an excuse to throw up their hands and #disengage from actually learning about or supporting the people in those cultures who know and are working within it to fight bigotry #amazingly enough 'racism and misogyny and queerphobia are bad' is not an idea exclusive to western cultures lmfao #your job if you engage is to seek out those people--across the spectrum of opinions and relationships to their culture's issues! #they're not a monolith!--and spread that information; and listen to what they ask of you when they tell you what kind of help they need #but that's complicated; and takes time and care and thought and effort and connecting to marginalized people #talking over activists and victims of the societal issues they live with; and telling them they're the same as colonizers; is easy-peasy #like i cannot stress enough here that hermes Is an Ancient. He Lives Here. He Knows His Society and Thinks About It a Lot #He Wants to Salvage It and is Specifically Fucked Up About Feeling Like He Can't Trust People Around Him for Input #WoL doesn't barge in and start telling the ancients what's what; they find the person who Cares and back him up that he's not crazy or alon #anyway there's a lot here but it is uh. a Lot. the ways in which the game blends up christianity and judaism here. #including the fact that between the two; the default cultural values and dynamics align more with christian associations of Conformity #(the game is by japanese creators and i feel like that's A Factor too; but there are Eerily Accurate evangelical things going on here) #and people cape for the ones who are Most Evangelical about it + the one whose Compelling Aspects are all antisemitic as fuck tropes #whereas the brown guy who grapples with his faith and worldview; who questions and challenges and argues with others in his ethnoreligion #and tries to look for perspective and deeper meaning + Improve Society Somewhat; gets torn apart in the worst faith possible by the fandom #ffxivtag #warning: worm grass

[sureuncertainty]

at least now i've gone through an important tumblr rite of passage, watching a longtime mutual become a radfem :/

#the thing that really got me was that they were talking about their morality ocd triggering them about it #bc of the way tumblr and the internet in general has this black and white approach to things #and one of those i guess was 'transphobes = bad' which like. is not what i'm ever talking about when i say that things have more nuance #that said i DO think that the way this website prioritizing hating terfs over supporting trans people is kinda gross #but anyway this person was so anxious about it and it just was depressing bc i related to that #they were SO afraid of losing friends or being cancelled over it and i was just like damn i wonder if all terfs are that miserable #but they acted like they just had no choice but to believe this 'thing' that they constantly alluded to but never talked outright about #which i am pretty sure now is just that they're a radfem or at least believe in a lot of radfem ideologies #and honestly? i go back and forth between genuinely feeling so bad for them and being like well that's what you fucking get #i wish i'd had the courage to talk to them about it but whenever i thought about it i got immeasurable anxiety #sorry for the very long tag ramble i just haven't been able to talk about this and it's been eating ME up too for a long time #i just feel horrible. i know in the past they've mentioned too how they want people to tell them why if they unfollow/block them #but i can't. i cannot. and then i'm afraid of just feeding into their victim complex by doing this #i just can't win. and it's like. i'm trans i am literally affected by their bigotry that they're acting like is just not even a choice #ALSO I REMEMBER HOW THEY MADE A POST ONCE ABOUT HOW PEOPLE IRL DON'T TALK ABOUT TRANS STUFF #LIEK IDK WHAT PLANET YOU ARE LIVING ON MY DUDE BUT I HAVE LIKE 5 TRANS COWORKERS AND EVERYONE IS VERY NORMAL ABOUT THEM #like maybe YOU live in a bad area #but you're just a really loud minority #anyway. yeah. just. oof. #still feeling some kind of anxiety about it #win rambles

[zoekrystall]

Saw certain tweets and here once again a reminder which a twt mutual luckily wrote shorter than I could (plus public so I can rb bc no way I do that myself on that site)

Also

And if you want smth I wrote myself which is longer and not just abt that here you go

#a wild lux appears #I think they're one mutual who is fine w being screenshotted ik some don't want that #I wrote that bsky thing while waiting for food. Reg the fellow person I talk abt don't bash ppl that already spoke up and stop for a bit #To rb more later. Or ppl that still go to work bc they can't afford not to bc the thing by these actions is community isn't there as net #Or like anyone that shows they care and didn't do anything harmful and just take recharge time or so #Educate willing(!) ppl nicely and don't bash them or send a internet mob to them etc #The ones posting they still go to/buy boycott stuff yeah they're awful but what does bashing them bring at the end of the day #Don't support those ppl yeah but them posting that shows how much they care for it. They prob just want cloud which you give them. #Pressure ppl in power in a way they can't ignore focus on that not no name individuals #If ppl you know talk in private and if they don't want to change literally just cut them out of your life if possible #Online just block. Don't argue w people that just want to stir smth up etc etc #Also I don't think it's too productive to be mad when a standard user anywhere doesn't share stuff. Like yeah give them info abt that but #some either just do smth offline (in that case maybe tell them in this case just sharing online is also helpful) or are mentally too done #and focus all energy to survive (which is intended by the ppl in power. make ppl so done they only have energy to survive themselves so they #don't have energy to speak up abt problems in the world). Bashing famous ppl is completely different bc backlash actually brings smth there. #More ppl could do more if strike organizations would include community care so more actually could not go to work/shopping #Also reg protests so they should know do you know how many don't watch news anymore (I don't watch tv since many years) #I'm sure some also just can't esp younger ppl if they're parents monitor their socials and are zionists #Ofc speak up. I'm just here to say there are explanations. If they read things and still don't care unfollow/block/mute/idc or if you know #Them talk and explain how if is important they speak up #This has been going on for a good while now idk how many still don't know I am mostly pointing that out for new or not as much shared things #Tho I'm sure many don't know bc the standard response is the gov knows what he does and they do propaganda #They think surely the gov takes care of that. If they shut down convos reg that then that is dangerous denialism and living in escapism n #All. Not if the ppl who follow this need a break w fiction or so. I am sure the ppl you try to reach w bashing already muted/blocked all #accs and words associated w that #Anyways I gotta shower now. Disclaimer my personal opinion be an asshole and it's block on sight yada yada. #I just woke up I'm hungry I need to shower but that is also when I decide to share my pieces so

[thethingything]

wait you guys like perfume too ?? do y'all have a favourite maker - 🪲

oh I only really got into it very recently so I don't know that much about it other than like, really specific stuff about certain compounds because I learnt about them in a different context that led me onto learning about their use in perfume.

in terms of perfumes we like, we normally wear Drakkar Noir which was kind of an impulse purchase because we wanted to start wearing perfume and didn't know what else to get, and I do really like the smell of it, but I think it'd be nice to try some other scents at some point to see which ones we like.

I'd like to learn more about how different scents interact with each other and how perfumes are formulated based on that because I think the science behind it is really cool

#ask #🍬 post #currently zooted #this took forever to answer because I couldn't figure out how to explain what I meant with the stuff that I do know about #but basically I got into this by trying to work out why certain floral and fruity smells reminded me of stinkhorn when combined #(stinkhorns smell of rotting flesh and I know there's a sweet component to that smell #but I wanted to know what specifically was reminding me of it) #so I ended up googling what compounds made up various smells and reading about that #and in the process I stumbled across a blog run by a perfumer that talks about death #and the science behind the smells involved in that as well as what scents are used for different death related customs #so it was kind of one special interest leading into another in a really unexpected way #and then I started looking at like the terminology that's used with the different notes used in perfumes #and how perfumers end up considering things like how the smell changes as different components evaporate over time #and I think that's really cool. like with Drakkar Noir you start of with this citrus-y kind of scent from the top notes #and then those fade pretty quickly and you start to get more of the woodier base notes coming through #and then there's the thing of how because different people have different skin flora and therefore their own scent #a perfume will smell different on different people and you might really like it on one person but not on another #and yeah idk where I'm going with this. I'm very rambly but also can't tell how much of this is making sense #a lot of the science behind perfume and creating the scents reminds me of the science behind making different candy flavours #so I also find that overlap interesting #and that also comes back to the death interest because some esters used as flavourings are also components of decomposition smells #especially kind of fruity ones. I think a couple of them are used for banana and pear flavours and scents. so like pear drops #anyway yeah. that's kind of what I've been rambling to 🦋 about

[gettothestabbing]

My sister keeps telling me that I should make more personal posts here and vent and be more open. Not a bad idea, on its face. But she also reads my Tumblr. She’s the only person I know IRL that reads it and knows it’s mine. So I could vent on here about pretty much everything . . . unless it pertains to her, in which case she will message me and tell me to change what I wrote about her. Even though NONE of you know who she is.

#she's a Tumblr lurker #she has a completely private account that even I have never seen #and never posts so far as I know #when I first joined Tumblr I wasn't that open with people because I quickly saw that my friend who got me on here was super leftist #and so were most blogs I followed for fanart and pictures #so I just put everything under read mores and tagged those posts very carefully #I still got anon hate several times and ended up on argument posts occasionally #in college someone claimed to know me IRL and I told them to just confront me and they never did #frankly I do want to be more open on Tumblr. I'm on here enough anyway might as well share more #it's kind of an all or nothing deal though #if I have an issue with Mimi I'm probably gonna talk about it #but unlike with others I might complain about she'll see it instantly and then we'll have to talk it through anyway #sometimes I feel like I'm not allowed to have my own opinions in the same way that she does #she criticizes me a lot (with the intent to improve me and help me out) and I have accepted that #but 99% of the time if I try to offer her the same #even phrased gently #she just tells me I don't understand what she's saying and reiterates her position in a much longer fashion #her husband can change her mind but I can't #one of the many benefits there would be to being in a long term relationship: someone might actually take my side for once #'oh but I take your side!' when it's also yours yes #personal #pers com