#[i have ...lots of things...to talk about.

[obaewankenope]

I didn't rant but okay. I'm not accusing you either, but I know people who know bugger all about horses who tell me with absolute confidence how to do things that are 100% wrong.

I was taught not to groom a wet horse but rather to rub them down and let them dry to avoid working the moisture into the skin. That's what I was taught.

I'm aware you own the horse in the post and never stated different. My concern stems from the fact that I've seen supposedly "experienced" horse owners actually cause harm or problems themselves because they don't know to not groom a wet muddy horse or who will still saddle them up without even giving them a rub down because they want to ride for 20 minutes and don't understand that the mud can cause problems for their horse.

Ultimately, I didn't rant and I'm not arguing with you because we both clearly know a lot about horses and care about our own. England might not be as wet as Iceland idk, but I'm aware that sometimes you have no choice but to rug a wet horse because it won't stop raining.

Please don't presume I'm attacking you or think you aren't knowledgeable. As I said in my original reblog, my concern is with others who aren't experienced (or who are over confident in their lack of knowledge) trying to groom a horse that's wet and muddy and causing harm to the horse.

Also, jsyk, I'm autistic and I happen to explain things and talk at length like this typically. I'm sorry my form of communication has been perceived as some form of attack on you because it's not. Personally, I don't know jack shit about you and what I care about is people seeing the video who know nothing about horses and grooming a sopping wet horse because "it's fine, I saw it on a video" being their entire thought process.

Rudi got to be part of some experimental archeology today! Testing if this large comb found in the Oseberg viking grave could have been a horse brush/comb! It was super interesting to see how well it actually worked on her shedding winter coat.

(This one was a beautiful replica made by Knut Roger Brekke, not the real one obviously)

[keferon]

May I ask what were the best transformers media you ever saw/read?

Well Transformers Prime, Transformers 1986 and IDW comics are having the first place that’s for sure

And then the second place is kind of shared by Fall of Cybertron, Exodus, Prime wars trilogy, Robots in disguise(2001) and Transformers One.

The third place goes to G1, Animated, Earthspark, Armada, War for Cybertron Netflix series, Aligned Robots in disguise, Bumblebee, Rise of the Beasts and Cyberverse because I only liked some little parts of them.

And then I also saw some of the Bay movies, Victory and Headmasters and didn’t like them at all.

Separate first place for J-Decker. It is not exactly Transformers but it is a show about giant robots and I loved it

[no-144444]

who's he?- l.norris

summary: you've always been more famous, but now jack whitehall has decided to address it

pairing: lando norris x fem! moviestar! reader

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You sat beside Lando, giggling beside him as the night went on, awkward and long. F175 was a good idea on paper, but it was also the most hunger games-esque things you’d ever seen, and every single person there could feel the awkward and uncomfortable air in the room. 

He reached over and grabbed your hand to play with while Jack Whitehall made his way through the tables as the Williams car was revealed. 

“You alright?” you asked, leaning in to him. 

He nodded and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “All good.”

He was doing great. 2024 had been the hardest season of his life, and he genuinely couldn’t have done it without you. Every time he came home and saw you there, taking time out of your own busy schedule to make him feel better, it meant the world to him. He was eternally grateful. 

Jack pulled up a chair beside the two of you, getting ready for the interview. “Evening guys,” he smiled, settling in beside you. The Williams reveal was over, the lights came up again, and the camera was turned to Lando, Jack and you. 

“Give it up for my main man James Vowels!” There was a break for cheering. “Now, there is only one person I want to talk to tonight,” he announced into the microphone and the crowd went wild. They thought he meant Lando. “Y/n Y/l/n!” 

The stadium erupted in laughter as Lando got cut out of the camera angle, zoning in on your and Jack. Beside you, Lando was laughing harder than anyone, squeezing your hand as he giggled uncontrollably. You were pretty famous, being a huge movie star. At the beginning of your relationship back in 2021, everyone was a bit confused on why you’d picked him, since F1 wasn’t huge back then. Ever since then there’s always been jokes about how he’s less relevant than you, or less famous, etc. Honestly, you find them hilarious.

“Y/n, how are you feeling about tonight, have you ever seen anything like this?” he asked.

“No, I have not,” you smiled, trying to hold in your own laughter. 

“How does it compare to the Oscars?” 

“There’s usually less drummer, for sure,” you joked and the crowd laughed. “But yes, I am very excited to be here.” 

“Do you think Lando’s taking it away this year?” 

You turned to Lando and he smirked, shaking his head. “I hope so,” you shrugged, turning back to Jack. 

“I won’t be famous enough if I don’t,” Lando added, giggling into the microphone. 

“Mate let’s be honest you were never famous enough for her,” Jack teased. “I hope you win this year for your sake,” both you and Lando were uncontrollably laughing now. “So, how was your break? Got a chance to Netflix and Chill?” 

A boom mic was lowered into your face. 

“We did, y’know,” Lando nodded, pushing the boom away. “Wankers.” 

“Please do not curse Lando,” Jack chuckled. 

“That's not a curse word,” he smiled cheekily. “But yeah, we had a nice break. We spent some time with our families and friends, and we went to see Daniel in Perth as well, which was great.”

“You and Daniel are quite close, aren’t you Y/n?” he mused. 

“Yeah, I’ve worked with his partner a lot before, so we’re pretty close.”

“And he introduced us,” Lando added and you nodded. 

“Wow! Daniel Riccardo the match-maker, will he be officiating at your wedding?” Jack asked, referencing the fact that there were a lot of engagement rumours over the break for the two of you. 

You looked down at your hand confused then held it up for the cameras, showing no engagement ring on your finger, then looking at Lando confused, who giggled. 

“It’s on my to-do list, alright?” he chuckled. 

“Better be soon, or else you’ll be too irrelevant to marry her,” Jack joked. “And now, we have the wonderful Kane Brown, give it up!” 

The cameras turned to the singer, and Lando smiled at you. 

“It’s a good idea,” he whispered. “Asking Daniel.” 

“I don’t see a ring on my finger, Norris,” you pointed out again. 

“Soon,” he nodded, sincerity in his eyes. “So soon.”

“I'll believe it when I see it,” you chuckled, but you knew he was serious.

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navigation for my blog :)

mclaren masterlist

[colossrat]

Batman: Captain, you're hurt. Is there someone you want to get in touch with?

Well… Vic (cyborg) is already there, Barry and Diana too… who else is he friends with?

Constantine? Yes, but John doesn't like the league and will give him a hell of a lecture for getting hurt…

Harley? poison ivy? Batman wouldn't like to know they were friends. two-faces? oh- absolutely not.

Captain cold? No. Snart knows Billy, not Cap. And Batman wouldn't like that either. Maybe Barry would like…?

Freddy and Mary are probably sleeping right now…

Marvel: Can you… can you call the Fawcett zoo, sir? I have a friend who works there… I'd really like to see him right now. and say that I'm fine.

Bat makes the call, Billy asks for the phone and they chat for a while

Marvel on the phone: Oh, no, no… I'm high right now- Noo! its cus im right above the sky-- I'm fine, just space... But I think I'm also high on morphine yea, some opioids yes… no? Oh, I would love to! Yes. Uhm. The one next to… yes-- I know- i know you know, and you know, I know you know! Stop fishing. Yes, waits waits, buh-bye!! I'll see you soon. mwaaah and he gives the phone back to batman Marvel: Hey? Boss? My friend is coming to bring me some tea that I like, kay? to make me feel better. Don't be rude to him, he's called mister tawky tawny. Just stay cool, okay? Be cool…

And he drops his head on the pillow and falls asleep, snoring loudly

Nobody understands a thing and from what Batman researches, Tawky Tawny is a tiger from the zoo, and they think the captain was just delirious on morphine But not five minutes later, a bipedal tiger in a suit arrives at the watchtower via the Zeta Tubs using the captain's credentials. he carries a little madam's bag that is carrying a tea kit and some biscuits

Tawny presents himself as the gentleman he is with an education that would make Alfred blush, but he doesn't allow anyone to slow him down. He goes straight to the room where the captain is, because he can smell him maybe? The league doesn’t know for sure.

There, he takes a small table and a portable OVEN from Madame's tiny ass little bag and begins to make tea. to. make. tea. The second Tawny opens the cookie jar, Marvel wakes up to the sound and smell and starts crying with joy at seeing his best friend and familiar

he introduces him to the whole league while drinking tea and stuffing his mouth with cookies, fat tears streaming down his face and tawny just enjoys his friend's company and takes care of him, but he doesn't avoid giving a dirty look to anyone who decides to judge their friendship

Tawny, pretending to be hurt: I'm surprised by your surprise. Don't you talk about me, cap?

Marvel, afraid that he hurt the tiger's feelings: I do!!! I talk about u all the time, all the time!!! they know you are my best friend!!!

Superman: it's true! he speaks a lot and very highly of you, we just--

Barry: we thought you were crazy, bro! Tim was hacking the watchtower cameras at that time by coincidence, so in a matter of minutes Damian would be running there to see the bipedal tiger and ask to pet him and tell him everything he knows about tigers

[wqnwoos]

hi kae i will love u forever and ever and come back to this forever and ever.

i think this is one of, if not the, best review i’ve ever received on this hellsite over three (?) years of writing for kpop. AGH it was so satisfying to read this and see all the little details u picked up on that i tried to work in!!! it made my heart so incredibly happy and i will be endlessly grateful to u for as long as i live. something about elevatory has stuck with me since i wrote it, even if it’s not my proudest work (when are they ever?) and i’m so glad it meant something to u too 🥹

ALSO!!! the poem u mentioned!!!!!! i love this poem and i read it a long time ago — somehow it never came to mind when i was writing this, but a v long time ago i had a divorce au w/ namjoon that, in my head, sat hand-in-hand with this poem. so it was so nice to see it pop up again!!!! i do love how we have similar taste in poetry it’s so wonderful to see 💗

You were once deeply and irrevocably in love with Kwon Soonyoung, and it’s incredibly hard to avoid that fact when he works literally two offices down from you. It’s even harder to avoid when you’re stuck in a broken elevator with him for hours, and he seems determined to dissect everything that went wrong three years ago.

⇢ pairing: kwon soonyoung x f!reader

⇢ genre: angst, fluff, exes!au, lawyer!au

⇢ wc: 5.6k

⇢ warnings: minor alcohol consumption, lots of flashbacks

⇢ a/n: early happy new year!! this is my gift to u all <3 thank u to @haologram for hosting this collab and for just being alive. and thank you SOO much to ally @lovetaroandtaemin and em @gyuswhore for beta'ing i appreciate u both endlessly 💗

as part of the don’t hate, litigate! collab hosted by the wonderful @haologram

SOMETIMES IT TRULY feels like God, or the stars in your skies, or whatever the hell is controlling your fate down on this measly earth, hates you.

Sometimes it truly feels like this indefinite being is determined to deal you the worst set of cards, and this – this trumps all. Being stuck in an elevator with your ex-boyfriend sounds like the beginning of a shitty romcom, except it’s not. It’s your life, and it’s been your life for the past eight minutes, since the metal box you stepped in ground to a creaky, noisy halt halfway between the sixth and seventh floor. 

And it takes eight minutes before Soonyoung sighs resignedly. “Are you just going to ignore me forever?” 

Forever, you think, is your least favourite word. There were a lot of things you thought you’d have forever, and one of them is standing right next to you.

You swallow thickly. Your reply comes measured and clipped. “For as long as possible.”

When he speaks next, you can hear the attempt at a forced smile in his tone. “Well, you kinda just failed.”

You stay silent. If anyone had told you five years ago that Kwon Soonyoung would be begging to talk to you and you’d be ignoring him, you would have called them crazy; and yet, here you are. Ignoring him like your sanity depends on it, because actually, it does. So for the past eight minutes – nine now, but who’s counting? – you’ve barely spoken a word. You’re both stuck; the recovery team can’t make it for two hours at least; and God hates you, basically.

Soonyoung’s trying to make the most of it, and you’re not letting him.

He says your name, ever so softly. “Really, though. How – how have you been?”

It’s weird, going from years of no contact to working together. It’s been a year since Soonyoung joined your company, but it hasn’t become any easier. Not when he’s such an open book, so fucking easy for you to read. Every time you cross paths, he gets this look in his eyes – sad puppy, you’ve nicknamed it. Now is no different.

“I’ve been okay,” you say finally, stiltedly. You’ve never been able to resist that face, and you’re pretty sure he knows it too. “What about you?”

The silence is painful, but the way he says fine stings a little bit more. You know when he’s lying, and he never used to do that to you.

“So…” He shifts his weight awkwardly, huffing out an uncomfortable laugh as he gazes intently at his shoes. “This is weird, right?”

You match him with an equally uncomfortable smile. “The weirdest.”

“Our longest conversation after forever,” he says. “But I wasn’t expecting it to go like this.”

You cock your head to the side, fixing him with a questioning gaze. All hopes of ignoring him are sailing out the hypothetical window. “How were you expecting it to go?”

Soonyoung looks up at you with one of those embarrassed, endearing smiles. “Better.”

There’s a pregnant pause, and then – “You know, Jeonghan calls you the one that got away.” 

He’s always had a habit of dropping things like that on you; things that leave you a little winded.

“That makes it sound like I escaped,” you say, with an ease you don’t feel.

Clearly, Soonyoung doesn’t feel it either — he exhales heavily. “Maybe you did. Escape, I mean.”

You snap your head towards him, eyes almost owlish in your surprise; “You’re not serious.” When he doesn’t say anything, you continue haphazardly, “Soonyoung, that’s not — there wasn’t anything to escape from.” 

Your ex-boyfriend looks miserable. Avoids eye contact, staring fixedly at his shoes with a dejected expression he can’t properly disguise; even throughout the three years of your relationship, you rarely saw him like this. He looks…

Heartbroken, your mind suggests.

“I’m serious,” you insist again, pushing the thought out of your mind. “You weren’t a bad boyfriend, Soonyoung.”

He snorts then. “Okay, we both know that isn’t true.”

“It is!” 

“If we had, like, a counter of who fucked up however many times, I would leave you in the dust.”

You don’t know how to tell him this might even be half of it. This weird pedestal he puts you on – it’s not even guilt-tripping. You’ve seen that, but never from him; Soonyoung just truly, sincerely feels bad. Whenever you look back on your relationship, which is more often than you’d care to admit, it’s plain as day. He truly, sincerely feels that he has never deserved you. Like you’re something out of this world, out of his world. 

“Wow.” Soonyoung huffs out the one word, and it’s half a laugh, half admiration. “You are so out of my league.”

“Stop,” you whine, pushing his shoulder lightly. “Don’t say stupid things like that.”

“Well, not everyone gets to date the prettiest girl in law school,” he retorts quickly, lifting his brows. “Not sure why I of all people get to, but thank you.”

“Stop it,” you repeat, rolling your eyes and fixing the tie he’s wearing. “You’re gorgeous and you know it. You should know it, at least.”

“Not just that!” he protests quickly. “I just mean… you’re so smart. And good. And kind, and funny, and — ”

“Ah, yes! Of course, Kwon Soonyoung, known famously for being mean and horrible and extremely unfunny,” you say sarcastically, before tugging his tie and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “I choose my league, and you’re the only one in it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he murmurs, slightly breathless.

“Oh, shut up and kiss me.”

There were a lot of things that went wrong with you and Soonyoung. You’d started off wonderful: both of you bright, flaming, drawn to each other like magnets. You managed the stresses of law school, graduated together, and lined up jobs – jobs that were miles and miles from each other.`

There were lots of things that went wrong with you and Soonyoung, but if you had to pick one, it would be long distance.

“When did we stop trying?”

The question makes you snort. “What, you want a date and a time?”

Soonyoung smiles ruefully, but there’s nothing happy about it. It’s more of a painful grimace. That’s always been the way with you both: you deflect, he feels. He doesn’t hide the way you do, not from anyone. And for a few years, he was the only one who you didn’t hide from. 

Maybe that’s what has you opening your mouth again. “I could probably give you one. A date, I mean.”

Soonyoung hugs his knees to his chest, eyes searching your face. You can read him so well it physically makes you ache. The hint of uncertainty in his eyes, the twitching of his fingers – he’s nervous. He’s torn between wanting to know what you have to say and the strong sneaking premonition that it might hurt. “Go on,” he says finally, just as you knew he would. 

Honestly, you don’t have an exact date. Things fell apart slowly, and then all at once. A toppling tower – leaning, leaning, leaning, until it crashed. 

“There were probably a few things,” you say, softly. “My birthday, for a start.”

He winces reflexively. “That…” he begins, and then breathes out, shutting his eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make up for that.”

“I mean, in the end, it wasn’t that big of a deal.” You’re not sure why you’re trying to reassure him, even if it's true. You forgave him almost immediately.

“Shit.” 

Soonyoung’s first eloquent word when he walks into the apartment only means you become sure of what you already suspected. He takes in the half-eaten cake on the table, candles blown out and tossed to the side, the scraps of wrapping paper littering the floor, the cards; you take in his face. And you know, as quick and as simple as that – he forgot. 

Some small part of you had been holding a sneaking hope that maybe this was just an elaborate attempt at a surprise. You’d told him once, months and months ago, that you didn’t think ignoring people on their birthday to surprise them later was a very nice thing to do. But you’d rather he forgot that than your entire birthday.

His eyes meet yours, both of you frozen to your places. Him at the doorway, you at the table. The distance between you isn’t more than a few metres, but suddenly it feels like an engulfing abyss. Still, even from the other side, you can feel the guilt pouring out of him. 

“Shit,” he says again, before rushing his words out. “Shit, baby, I’m so sorry.”

You haven’t cried all day. You haven’t let yourself, but this has your eyes brimming over before you can control it.

“I’m going to bed,” you say finally, hugging yourself tightly, making yourself smaller. The apartment is warm, but you suddenly feel freezing. And despite your best efforts, there’s a waver in your voice, verging on a crack. “I’m tired.” 

You glance over the remains of your birthday party, one that you plastered a fake, painful smile on the whole way through, and then you turn to leave. 

“Baby, wait,” he implores quickly, and takes a step towards you — you mirror it immediately with a step back, and it makes him pause, his expression falling even further. “Baby.”

“You’re not allowed to call me that.” Your voice is obviously shaking now. “Not today. Maybe — maybe tomorrow.”

Maybe tomorrow you’ll be able to hear his excuses, his promises, but today, you’re allowed to be upset. You’ll let yourself have today, at the very least.

He’d driven hours to see you that day, but he’d still forgotten why he was there. You hadn’t really celebrated your birthday before you met him. Soonyoung was the one who made it a big deal, back when you first started dating, and even now, there’s a sharp pang in your chest when you remember how hurt you were that day.

“You made up for it tenfold,” you remind him now, because it’s true. He made the rest of the week practically a utopia, once you banned him from apologising. And he’d been so busy at work, so incredibly tired the whole month before, and you could understand. Both that he upset you, and that it was an innocent mistake. And you’ve never seen more sincere apologies than those that came from Soonyoung.

He looks grim, shakes his head, but doesn’t say any more. Probably because you’ve had this conversation a few times already, both of you too stubborn to give in. 

“Keep going,” he says, then, looking at you head on. “What else?”

All of a sudden, you don’t want to talk about what else. All of a sudden, you’re annoyed with him, his stupid face, this stupid elevator. “Do we have to do this?” Your voice has switched from somewhat reassuring to harsh – for want of a better word, angry. It makes his brown eyes a little round with surprise, his mouth parting a little.

“What?”

“What else and what if have been on my mind for three years, Soonyoung,” you say acidly. “Forgive me if I don’t really want to talk about it to your face.”

Again, his mouth opens a little bit, stays open as he tries to form words. Until he gives up, seals his lips and nods. “Alright. Okay. That’s fine.”

“I know it’s fine!” you cry out, only more angry that he won’t argue back. You’re lawyers, it’s what you do. And just to be petty, you add — “Besides, I bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be happy about this anyway.”

Finally, his passive poker face drops, and he looks a little confused. “My what?”

Immediately, you regret opening your mouth, but it’s too late to back down. “Your girlfriend. You know, that girl from accounting.”

“The girl fr— You mean Rachel?” Soonyoung gapes at you, and something in you bridles, until he continues. “Mrs Choi, who's married to her wife and adopting a kid next year?”

Well, now you feel stupid as fuck.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he continues, and if you weren’t afraid to look at him right now, you’d swear he was hiding a smirk.

“Whatever. I don’t care. Why are we even talking about this?” you snap, irritated and embarrassed.

He still sounds smug. “You brought it up.”

“You sit with her every lunch hour,” you mutter, heat creeping up your neck. “I just assumed.”

“Well, there’s nothing there. So don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried! I don’t care who you date, Soonyoung!”

He looks a little taken aback, blinking once or twice, cockiness gone without a trace. “Wow,” he says, finally. If you didn’t know him as well as you did, you wouldn’t notice the slight tremble in his voice. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name since — ”

He cuts himself off, but you complete the sentence in your head — three years ago. Three years since you packed up and walked out of his life. It feels like a decade ago; it feels like last week. You’d been so sure that you wouldn’t see his face again after that, that it was a decided end of a full four years of your life. Until last year, when he’d waltzed straight back into your life, this time at your workplace.

“This is the new hire.” Your boss is speaking, but you’re still finishing up the last sentence on the document you’re working on, and you listen absently as he fires a couple instructions — “Jeon, you’ll show him around. Filing system, get him logged on, the works.”

You look up then, to cast Wonwoo a knowing smile, because he always gets lumped with showing around the newbies, but halfway to making eye contact with your friend, you catch the familiar tilt of a jaw, the soft lines of a nose you know so well.

You’ve seen Soonyoung in a hundred people since you left him. You’re always looking over your shoulder at the bus stop, at the grocery store, at the library, finding a tiny piece of him in everyone and everything, a tiny piece that lodges itself tight and sharp into your throat until you take a second look, until you see unfamiliar eyes or too dark hair or shorter legs. Until you find something to make you swallow, exhale, and keep walking.

Now, your second look doesn’t yield anything unfamiliar. Except maybe his hair, gone from blonde to black, but everything else — everything else. It’s him, and he looks just as shocked to see you as you are to see him. There’s a heavy moment that seems only heavy to the two of you, everyone else still talking, the boss still giving instructions, but you and Soonyoung are looking at each other, dumbfounded, and all you can think about is the distinct taste of bile in your throat and the tie he’s wearing is the one you got him for his birthday.

Your initial plan is to avoid him. He foils that plan within two hours, cornering you in the break room, whispering urgently, “I had no idea you worked here, I swear I’m not, like, following you or – ”

The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind, and you just pin him with a blank stare. 

“I could quit.”

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish the sentence. “I’m not so butthurt that I can’t be a professional.”

“Right,” Soonyoung nods, breathing out a little. His lips are chapped. He never used to wear lip balm, just used to borrow yours. You hate yourself a little for remembering that.

The memory almost makes your lips twist with an sardonic smile. “I was so pissed when you showed up here.”

You can see his half smile, rueful and charming, through your peripheral vision. “I felt so bad about it, you know. But you just seemed annoyed when I saw you in the break room, so I figured you weren’t… mad or upset or anything.”

“I went straight from the break room to cry in the bathroom for fifteen minutes,” you admit truthfully. “I had to tell Wonwoo I had curry for breakfast.”

“You cried?”

You scowl. “I’m not saying it to be pitied, Soonyoung. I’m just saying, I’m not, like, some heartless jerk with no feelings. Of course I was upset.”

“I know that,” he says quickly, vehemently. “Of course I know that.” He hesitates, and then continues, words practically inching out of him. “It’s not really my place to ask, but… you and Wonwoo… are you guys…?”

“You’re right,” you say, and press your cheek onto your knees to fix him with your eyes. “It’s not your business. But that’d be hypocritical of me, so… no. No, we’re just friends. I’m friends with his girlfriend too, Cam, she works at the plant shop down the road.”

Soonyoung tilts his head back, lets out one of those breathy laughs that aren’t really laughs. “It’s so weird that you have new friends now.”

“Thanks,” you say, dripping with sarcasm.

“Not like that! I just mean I’m so used to – like, it used to be our friends, you know what I mean?”

“Not since three years ago,” you say with false lightness, because when you lost Soonyoung, you lost the friends he brought you too. You catch the glint of pity in his eyes again, and scoff. “It’s not a big deal. They were your friends first.”

Frowning, he speaks again. “First doesn’t matter. It didn’t matter to them either. Seungkwan said you were the one who stopped answering their calls.”

It’s true, and the feeling still burns a little, because Seungkwan and Jeonghan had called so many times. Even Vernon called a couple times, and you weren’t even that close to him, but Soonyoung has always attracted good people. Like calls to like. Maybe that’s why you ended up leaving.

“I was trying to make it easier,” you say bluntly., “for them to choose you.”

Your ex-boyfriend clicks his tongue, rakes a hand through his dark hair. “It’s not about sides, ___, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well, it felt like it at the time, alright?” Your words come out louder than you mean them to, and you pause, trying to quell your defensiveness. 

Soonyoung raises his hands in half-hearted surrender. “Alright. Alright.”

Something in your stomach feels acidic. Leaning your head back against the cool wall of the elevator, you manage to meet his eyes apologetically. “How – how are they, though? Seungkwan and everyone?”

Graciously, he ignores your quick show of temper. “They’re good. Seungkwan’s working freelance photography now. Jeonghan still hates his job, but keeps getting promoted anyway.”

Jeonghan. You told him you thought you were going to break up before you even told Soonyoung. You wonder if he remembers it, because that night is seared into your memory – New Year’s Eve, three years ago.

You’re much drunker than you ever intended to be when you finally find a place to sit in the cramped apartment, waved over by a sympathetic looking Jeonghan. He pats your head affectionately as you groan. 

“Feeling alright?”

“No,” you say elaborately.

Jeonghan never pries, which is probably what makes people tell him everything. He only raises his eyebrows at you, a hint of scepticism toying with his smile.

You look away, eyes drawn immediately to your boyfriend, laughing in the middle of the kitchen. Throwing his head back, squeezing his eyes shut, looking so fucking happy; when you see him like this, your heart always feels so incredibly warm and so incredibly full. 

Except today, there’s something else intertwining it, something similar to dread, and it causes the faint smile on your face to fade a little.

Jeonghan sees it, of course, and when you look back at him, his eyebrows only raise higher. 

You sink further into that horrible, looming feeling. “Jeonghan.”

“___.”

“I think I’m going to break up with him this year.”

If you didn’t know Jeonghan as well as you do, you’d think the information hadn’t affected him at all; his features remain completely impassive, but you catch the flash of surprise in his eyes. He stays quiet for a long time, the silence between you filled with thumping bass and indistinct conversation, until finally, he asks the only question there is to ask. “Why?”

It’s ridiculous, how one word can bring you to the verge of tears. But that one word holds so much weight – why would you break up with him? Why would you, when you’ve pictured a future with him a thousand times over? 

Why would you leave the best thing that ever happened to you?

You blink back the tears, and Jeonghan waits.

His voice is soft, but you still hear him under the din of the party. “Is this about your birthday?”

You shake your head quickly. “No.” You stop. “Maybe. It’s – there’s just – little stupid things.”

“Little things add up,” Jeonghan says gently. You hate how he’s already understanding.

“Sometimes – ” You swallow thickly. “Sometimes I just feel so far away from him.”

You don’t have to explain that you don’t mean physically. Because that’s part of it, but it’s not all of it, but without you saying that, Jeonghan knows. You barely notice when he takes your plastic red cup from your hands, setting it on the table next to him. “And I know he loves me, and he’d never hurt me on purpose, and – he’s been so good to me, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan only hums, waits for you to continue. And you do, the alcohol only pushing more words out of your mouth. “The distance,” you say, “is killing us.” You rub furiously at your eyes. “No matter how hard we try, Jeonghan, it’s not working, and I feel like – I’m the only one who can see that. He’s ignoring it, but we can’t keep going like this.”

Jeonghan hesitates for a second, looking torn, more torn than you’ve ever seen him look. “Do you still love him?”

Tears blur your vision again, but don’t quite escape this time. “I don’t know how to stop.”

When you kiss Soonyoung after the countdown, your cheeks are wet.

“Long distance.”

“What?”

“You asked what else,” you say, picking at your nails. “I think it was the distance. I think that’s what – you know. Broke us up.”

Soonyoung has that look in his eyes, the one where he wants to argue but knows he’s going to lose, knows that you’re right. He breathes out, licks his lips and tries to speak. “We tried so hard.”

It’s not even a counter-argument. You agree with him, even. The two of you were brilliant at long distance, until you weren’t. Hours-long video calls, surprise weekend visits, staying over for the holidays, until it all started collapsing. Weekly movie nights kept getting postponed. Visits had to decrease in number. You were missing each other’s calls – if one of you wasn’t working late, the other always was. It was like the entire universe was working against you both, and suddenly, you felt like a burden rather than a lover, and Soonyoung would probably say the same. It’s hard not to feel that way, when you’re celebrating your anniversary over FaceTime and both of you keep dozing off while the other talks.

In a way, Soonyoung is right: you both tried so hard. In a way, he’s so wrong: neither of you tried hard enough.

Towards the end of it all, you were too tired to fight. Both of you were. The breakup was a quiet affair, mostly. You brought it up first, standing in the kitchen of Soonyoung’s apartment after realising you had no idea where he kept his cereal bowls.

“Soonyoung?”

“Babe, I told you, it’s the third cupboard from the left,” he calls, but he’s rounding the corner to his kitchen anyway. He stops in his tracks when he sees your face, smile fading, and for a second, time freezes.

“Soonyoung,” you say again, quieter.

And he knows. “Don’t,” he says, faintly, but there’s no weight behind it, because he knows.

Tears are already brimming your eyes, and you’re wrapping your arms around yourself, shaking your head. “I can’t,” you say, and you’re not sure what you mean. I can’t end it. I can’t keep going.

The picture before him is enough for Soonyoung, and any defence, any fight he still had in him (because he’s always been the more tenacious) drains. He gives in, same as you. 

“Okay,” he says, in a voice that’ll haunt you for years to come, a clashing harmony of gentle and damning. “Okay.”

You try to formulate words. You fail. All that you can say is “Soonyoung.” before you trail off. 

You don’t finish. He gives you a tired, forced smile, says something about, “We had a good run, didn’t we?”, but you’re too busy trying to wrench the tears back into your eyes to focus properly. Your efforts are in vain, of course, tears slipping down your cheeks hot and heavy, no matter how much you try to stop.

“I’m sorry,” you say tearfully, but he shakes his head.

“Don’t be sorry.”

After that, he only helps you load your bags into your car and says thank you when you give him the house keys. He does everything so quietly, so methodically, so defeatedly. It’s like he’s just lost a war he’s been fighting for far too long.

It turns out that in the end, four years can be reduced down to this: two cardboard boxes, three bin bags, and two broken hearts.

It’s your fault, in technical terms. You finished this. You’re the one who said the words, or almost said them, the one who spelled out what was so obviously ignored. More than once, because you’d tried this before, six months ago. Soonyoung was the one who fought back. He’d said no, of course, that first time. He’d said no with tears in his eyes, like it was a surprise to him, like he couldn’t see it the way you saw it — that you were on two very different paths. 

Soonyoung didn’t believe in following diverging paths, he believed in forcing yourself straight ahead hand-in-hand, come hell or high water. He believed in it, until he didn’t, and then he let you go.

When it’s time for you to leave, he accepts the hug you can’t help but fling on him just before you step in the car. Both of your arms around each other, fitting into place like you have a hundred times before, but so much tighter and so much briefer this time. Soonyoung clings to you like he’s never going to see you again, because he isn’t. You cling to him like this is the last time you’ll ever hug him, because it is.

And then both of you are pulling away, laughing awkwardly at the wet patch you’ve left on his shirt, and then you’re getting in your car and he’s waving you off and it’s over, just like that.

“It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it?” There’s an acerbic quality to Soonyoung’s laugh as he continues. “We broke up because of distance, and here we fucking are.”

There’s a metre and a half between you two.

“Maybe it was a dumb reason,” you say. Voicing the thought that’s tormented you since the day you drove away. Because maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was a temporary rough patch, and if you’d stayed, if you’d fought a little more and a little longer, you’d still have Soonyoung.

But you didn’t, and you don’t.

There’s a heavy expression on Soonyoung’s face, a strange mix of anger and confusion and guilt. “Maybe,” he says, at last. There’s the vaguest trace of bitterness, the little tiny sting that reminds you again that you’re the one who called it quits. 

“It felt like the weight of the world at the time,” you say ashamedly, squeezing your eyes shut for a second.

Soonyoung takes the chance and scoots closer to you, sitting against the wall with you, shoulder-to-shoulder. (How easy it would be to just rest your head there, as you’ve done a thousand times before.) “It can’t have been easy,” he says, patting your hand with his own. Warm and familiar in its unfamiliarity, which is when you realise you’ve misread him, for once – he’s not bitter. He’s empathetic.

“It wasn’t stupid,” Soonyoung continues softly, rubbing his eyes, “but God, I wish you’d just talked to me. Actually — I wish we’d talked to each other.”

“Yes, well,” you say dryly, wondering if he’s going to catch your reference, “I’ve always had a problem with communication.”

He catches it; it makes him pause, lift up his head, give you a tiny smile.

It takes you a minute to register that the seat across from you has been occupied. When you do look up, you realise Soonyoung’s mouth has been moving since he sat down, and you haven’t heard a word of it. Also, somewhere between the class you guys shared two days ago and his presence in the library this morning, his hair’s gone from a discreet dark brown to a particularly indiscreet blond.

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, taking out your earphones and setting down your pen. “What?”

“I said – do you have a problem with communication or something?” Despite the nature of his words, he’s practically beaming at you.

You blink at him, bewildered. “I mean… maybe? But — what?”

He holds up his phone. “Project,” he explains elaborately. “I’ve been texting, and I didn’t get a reply, and then I saw you over here, so I thought I’d ask.”

You frown, grabbing your phone. “I didn’t get any texts.”

Soonyoung mirrors your expression, tapping at his screen, and you’re struck by how much the blond suits him. As did the brown. As did the black he had a semester ago. Not that you’ve been keeping track, but it’s hard to not notice someone like Soonyoung. Even if the first time you talked to him was two days ago to organise the project you’ve been paired up for — you know him. Of him, at least.

He swivels his screen round to face you, showing you a contact with your name and what you quickly realise is almost your number. You smile a little awkwardly, tapping the last digit. “That’s meant to be a seven. You’ve got an eight.”

“Fuck,” he exhales, “that explains it. Who the hell have I been texting about litigation then?”

Something about his expression and his tone is so comical it makes you laugh, which surprises him a little – he glances up at you with a blatantly admiring smile, and he taps the edge of the desk. “Your eyes light up when you laugh, did you know?” And as quickly as he says it, he moves on, gesturing to your phone. “I’ll text you about the project, okay?”

He’s like a hurricane, and you’re trying your best to keep up. “Okay,” you agree confusedly, still hot-faced from the sudden compliment. “Yes. That’s — yes.”

As he gets up to leave again, he shoots you another one of those blinding, dazzling smiles, and sticks his hand out. “We’re friends now, right?”

His question sounds childishly sweet, and you can’t find it in yourself to do anything other than agree. 

Your one little reference sets you both off. You spend the next two hours talking and talking and talking, every other sentence beginning with “Remember when…”, as the two of you dredge up the long-buried memories of four long years spent together.

Soonyoung talks about the massive crush he had on you before you even got paired up for the project. You talk about how you never believed him, even when he did ask you out – it took three tries before you understood how serious he was. And then you remember the time Soonyoung sprinted from campus to his accommodation and back just to get you the calculator you forgot for your exam – and the time you both went to a frat party and ended up playing the most intense game of UNO in the bathroom with Vernon, which ended in a drunk Soonyoung trying to flush the cards down the toilet. 

He talks about the surprise party you threw for his birthday, and you talk about the time he tried to make you pancakes for National Girlfriend Day and failed horribly. You ate them anyway.

You don’t, however, talk about other things, even if you remember them. You remember Soonyoung kissing your forehead every morning he woke up next to you. You remember him buying your favourite flowers for your favourite vase every week. You remember coming home after a long day to food already delivered and paid for when he was working hours and hours away. You remember being so incredibly in love that it made you giddy and so in love it made you calm. And you don’t talk about it, just store it away somewhere as a reminder of what love is meant to feel like. If four years with Soonyoung brought you anything, it’s that: it taught you how to love and be loved.

When the recovery team finally arrives, you leave the elevator feeling like a new person. It doesn’t hurt when you look at Soonyoung anymore, there’s only a vague, warm fondness. And he can look you in the eye now, which he does. He smiles at you, sticks out his hand the same way he did all those years ago.

“We’re friends now, right?”

an / AHHH!!!!!! i know this fic is only like 5k but it took a lot out of me so i’d love to hear your thoughts. literally any thoughts. i wanted this fic to be longer but it happened this way and. what can i do. i may be the author but im NOT in control. it’s not a fic i’m 100% proud of but i think it’ll still hold a special place in my heart!!!! i love an angsty exes au.

anyway — this will be my last fic this year!!! see you all in 2025 and thank you so much for all the notes and all the reblogs and all the wonderful conversations this year i love you

perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @glowunderthemoon

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@dokyeomin @icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars

@immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya @doublasting

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@sourkimchi @porridgesblog

[missdynamighttt]

asking bf! katsuki what he feels about prenups makes you fall in love with him all over again.

you were lounging on the couch, legs draped across katsuki’s lap as the tv played some random show neither of you were really watching. his hand rested on your thigh, thumb tracing absentminded circles while you scrolled through your phone.

the thought hit you out of nowhere, and before you could second-guess yourself, you blurted it out.

"hey, what do you think about prenups?"

katsuki froze mid-circle. his eyes shifted from the tv to you, brow furrowing. "the fuck?"

"a prenup," you repeated, sitting up slightly. "y’know, legal agreements before marriage, just in case things go south. if we get married."

"when we get married," he corrected automatically. his brows drew together. "why the hell are you askin’ me about prenups?"

you shrugged, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. "i dunno. i was just curious. a lot of people get them."

katsuki scoffed, sitting up straighter. "yeah, greedy assholes who don't trust each other."

"not always," you countered. "sometimes it's just making sure both people feel secure. it doesn't mean you don't trust each other. to protect assets, just in case—"

katsuki scoffed, cutting you off. "just in case? you plannin’ on leaving me or somethin’?"

your eyes widened. "what? no! i'm just saying—"

he made a face, the kind he always did when he thought something was bullshit.

"tch. i don't need some dumbass piece of paper to tell me what's yours or mine."

"'sides..." he shifted, his hand sliding from your thigh to your chin, tilting your face toward his. "everything i got's yours anyway."

your heart skipped a beat. "everything?"

"yeah. the apartment, the money, the dumb shit i spend on workout gear. all yours. even me," his thumb brushed over your bottom lip. "especially me."

you swallowed hard, warmth flooding your chest. "that’s... really sweet."

his lips twitched into a smirk. "yeah? so does that mean i get all your shit too? ain’t that how it works?"

you grinned. "sure. you can have my stuffed toy collection and my 2 digit savings account."

"fuck yeah," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "knew you were a catch."

you laughed, swatting his chest. he caught your wrist easily, kissing each and every knuckle. his face softened as he looked at you, calloused hand cradling the back of your head.

"don’t need a prenup, pretty," he said, quieter this time. "what we got... it ain't temporary. i'm all in. always."

your heart melted on the spot. "yeah?"

"yeah," he leaned in closer, his nose brushing yours. "if things do go south, we talk. ‘cause i’d rather die than let you go."

your heart stuttered in your chest. you were expecting some casual discussion, maybe even some banter, but instead, you got this—your boyfriend looking at you like he’d burn the world down before letting anyone take you away from him.

"...so, no prenup?" you squeaked.

katsuki huffed, pressing a firm kiss to your lips. "no fucking prenup."

"now quit talkin' about stupid legal shit and kiss me."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ hii! inspired by @gojosprettyprincess 's post about opinions on prenups and thought this up >< i PROMISE i will do some requests before i get to the twitter porn links with katsuki^^ hope you guys enjoy!!

[applepixls]

Anyone else thinking about how odd the hermitcraft economy is?

in season 9 they had a minor economic recession after the diamond ore war because there were far too many diamonds in circulation making them (hypothetically) worth less than normal and ren stepped in as the king and did what has been done in the midst of a lot of irl economic depressions; he created a government so they could employ the policy of Keynesian economics (basically more gov't intervention to stabilize the economy, it mostly worked in 1930's japan!), he took control of diamonds and even introduced a new currency, royal emeralds (much like Germany after WW1! they had some hyperinflation because of the war reparations they had to pay and the gov't not understanding that printing more money makes the money worth less resulting in the mark [currency] being so worthless they started burning it because they couldn't afford wood for fires. a new gov't came into power and they replaced the mark with rentenmarks which did a lot of fixificating for the economy). Ren's gov't also introduced a lot of gov't funded projects like the quests (the irl equivalent for this would be Roosevelt's New Deal which introduced policies/projects called the Alphabet Agencies (among other things) such as the AAA, CCC, TVA (do you see why they're called the alphabet agencies?) that would adjust the value of grain so farmers could start earning money for produce again and create work that would support a growing economy, projects like building roads and bridges)

so basically, all the policies ren's government introduced were very logically sound and worked in real life to fix the economy (except that irl the Great Depression only fully ended because WW2 started-), the issue is that hermitcraft is not real life and hermits do not behave like real people, they behave like hermits.

lets start with the hermitcraft economy. unlike the real economy, hermits rarely adjust prices according to how many diamonds are "in circulation". i say this despite the fact grian in a recent-ish episode says that "everything costs more this season because diamonds are more common". that can't be true because the caves and cliffs update literally made diamonds more difficult to acquire. I will circle back to this point made by grian later

hermits not adjusting prices by server-wide abundance of diamonds (because they cant really know how much anyone has, much less the total amount of diamonds in circulation, they just know who has a lot and who is broke) means that more diamonds doesn't make them worth less like it did with German marks, it just means hermits have more expendable currency and can spend more money and less time gathering materials for projects. It is also notable that diamonds are constantly being added and taken out of circulation because they're an actual useful currency rather than real life currencies which are symbolic slips of paper. diamonds can be used for armour and tools and it can be acquired by mining. so because of how hermits spend money, taking diamonds out of the economy in s9 did nothing but make them poor and angry at the government. the hermitcraft economy is actually stronger with more diamonds in circulation and is worsened by gov't intervention.

so already the use of real life strategies is utterly useless in hermitcraft economy but there are a few other reasons as well

the hermits tendency to resist government as well as the flawed and greedy government itself are a couple but also the fact that all the hermits are self employed (in real life but also in universe). they own and stock their own shops meaning all profits are more or less direct; its not passed through hands of big corporations so the person producing the product gets mere cents. the hermits are essentially small business owners (which becomes a bit of a problem come season 10 but we're still talking about season 9). The important part is the self employment. the season 9 gov't introduces the quests which mimic and echo real life government funded projects but because they're all employed and the quests gave small amounts of diamonds back, they did very little for the hermits

I'm sure theres more to say but i think its time to move on to the very interesting season 10 economy

if you've missed it you must be living under a rock but hermits are all using permits this season meaning only one shop in the shopping district is selling any given item/material and as a result of this prices have gone sky high. at one point a single stack of mangrove logs cost 7 diamonds when in previous seasons you could get at least 1 stack of wood for 1 diamond if not more

So what is causing this economic depression and hyperinflation?

well, circling back to the point grian made about resources costing more because of abundance of diamonds, I would think it actually costs more because of the permits.

grian thinks the diamond prices are fair because he has middle of the road permits (and is one of the hermits who designed their shopping district, permit and economic system this season so he's biased), there is enough demand to keep him afloat when he's stocked but its nothing people are clamouring for and buying him out. on the other hand, joel made a lot of shops that no one shops at because his objectively weighted permits have not been selling as well as they anticipated when making the permits (also some people like etho and pearl have additional income from their not as fabulous permits because they've made a pay to play game to go with it) and finally there are hermits like mumbo whose gold, iron and item frame shops were constantly getting bought out so he was frustrated with trying to restock despite getting lots of profit

(another interesting dynamic to think about is permits like cleo's book permit which lost value as the season went on because everyone needed books early on but now that they're all playing late game Minecraft, everyone is pretty stocked up and buying from cleo less often)

Basically, grian is satisfied with the pricing because he's middle class and couldn't afford it if they were more expensive but appreciates not being constantly out of stock, joel is unsatisfied because he is lower class and never has enough expendable currency to fund his projects because materials are too expensive and his permits aren't worth enough to sell them for more, and mumbo is unsatisfied because he is higher class and is constantly out of stock because his materials sell out too often and he wants to sell them for more to stay in stock more (classic supply and demand, he doesn't want to stock them as often making the supply lower and the demand proportionally higher making them worth more and therefore more expensive)

the reason i say the permits are to blame for the high prices is because they cause the responsibility of constantly stocking something to fall on one person (in past seasons, if one persons sandstone shop was out of stock you could go check someone else's sandstone shop). the threat of taking the permit away if they arent stocked along with the difficulty of constantly stocking some of these materials raises the cost.

a great example of this is skizzleman because his mangrove and cherry wood shop was one of the first shops to be built in the shopping district, meaning he somewhat set the prices this season. now, mangrove and cherry are both difficult trees to harvest because of their unconventional shapes and the fact that they are more recent additions (and skizz's stubborn desire to design his own farms...) so because of the time required to gather them the prices already were hitched up. add that to the fact that they are trying to constantly be in stock and therefore low prices that allow hermits to completely buy out the shops are unfavourable, and you get sky rocket-ing prices. (it is also difficult because skizz had no prior experience with hermitcraft pricing)

in conclusion... hermitcraft needs a laissez-faire economy (f. a. hayek) to function and not go into economic depression. Between the nature of the diamond currency, hermits' tendency to rebel against governments, the way they use the concept of supply and demand to price their goods, and the restrictions permits put on supplying products, hermits have proven that extensive structure and government intervention have not improved economic wellbeing the way that it does in real life

thus, hermits do not behave like regular humans, they operate on fae laws of its funny so lets do it and therefore must be governed as such (aka not governed), thank you for coming to my ted talk

[gloomwitchwrites]

aftercare with the boys???

Okay, but I love this question. The wonderful thing about aftercare is that it doesn’t need to be complicated and intricate for it to be effective. Good aftercare is tailored to the couple (or multiples if there are more than two people engaging in sex). But also, not everyone is great at aftercare, and figuring out what works for you might take some trial and error. And let’s also be realistic here, not all of the 141 is going to knock it out of the park…they are human after all.

MDNI

written w/ gn!reader

John Price

Seasoned and experienced, Price understands that aftercare is the standard, not the exception.

Whether it’s just a casual one-night affair, or a long-term relationship, Price goes out his way to make sure aftercare happens.

Price doesn’t assume what your needs are. Instead, he presents options before sex happens. There are a few things that come standard like getting you a glass of water, but there are more specific things he wants to know like whether or not you want a shower afterward, and if you want to take that shower alone or with him.

His favorite form of aftercare involves physical touch. If you’re open to it, Price wants a good cuddle with lots of intimacy.

He’s more than happy to chat you up afterward if you need that. Or, if you just need to yap and for him to stay quiet, he can do that, too.

Affirmations, affirmations, affirmations.

Will follow up with you the next day via text or call to make sure you’re doing okay.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

A firm supporter of aftercare.

He’s not one to fuck and leave. Kyle prefers the long-term commitment. He likes the intimacy.

Won’t ask you before sex what you need for aftercare, but will ask after it’s all done. Kyle keeps a list of different options and will cycle through them depending on how intense the sex was. If the two of you engaged in rougher sex, he’s more likely to try and focus on taking care of you physically.

Will take the initiative on a few things like getting you a glass of water and providing snacks (or ordering delivery.)

Prefers giving massages instead of cuddling (but doesn’t hate the cuddling.)

Does enjoy watching a movie or television show after as a distraction.

Conversation and closeness post-sex is extremely important to him.

John “Soap” MacTavish

This goober doesn’t even know that aftercare is an important part of sex. It takes him a bit to figure it out y’all.

That being said, it’s not until Johnny becomes entangled in a serious relationship that the pieces start to fall into place for him.

While others may go for a more sensual approach, Johnny is all about comfort and having a laugh.

When he cuddles, he cuddles hard, and if you try to wiggle away, think again.

Lots of talking, chatting, and verbal affirmations. This man isn’t only telling you how much he loves you, or that he had a lot of fun, but also is doing his best to make you smile and even laugh.

He is the kind of aftercare partner that is absolutely looking up memes and funny videos for the two of you to watch together.

Would have edibles at the ready (if you want them) and endless snacks.

Open to watching something on television or a movie but make it low stakes. Needs to be a comedy or a trashy reality show.

If the two of you bathe or shower, it’s together. No exception.

Lots of touching.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Aftercare is a complicated topic when it comes to Simon.

If he’s only there to get his dick wet, don’t expect aftercare. He will get you off, and find his own release, but don’t expect too much after the fact. But he won’t be a brute or an asshole either.

Aftercare comes when you least expect it, when the casual starts to become serious.

It happens almost accidentally, or rather suddenly, and completely on Simon’s terms.

Perhaps the two of you were engaging in some rough sex—at least rougher than normal—and Simon notices some bruising/tender skin. Maybe when he bit down, he drew blood, even if he didn’t mean to.

He immediately starts cleaning you up, tending to any marks he finds. It’s not a quick dab of a cloth but a full onceover. Simon observers every inch of you, checking to make sure you’re fine.

He does a verbal check in as well, because he understands that a physical check isn’t always enough.

Afterwards, he’s taking you for a bath or shower.

Then, it’s an ice pack or heating pad if you need it.

Don’t expect an outpouring of affection, but he will provide a few affirmations to reassure you.

And he will cuddle. It won’t be anything tight or super close, but rather an arm around you to draw you closer to him.

main masterlist

[auroral-melody]

I HAVE A NORMAL AMOUNT OF FEELINGS ON THIS. YOURE 100% CORRECT AND I HAVE THE LINGUISTICS PAPERS TO BACK YOU UP. LONGISH POST UNDER THE CUT

what is like? how do we use it?

Like and Language Ideology: Fact vs. Fiction is a great overview describing multiple uses of like.

in formal written usage, like is generally used

as a verb: "i like the cat"

as a noun: "with the likes of you"

as an adverb: "it looks like a cat"

as a conjunction: "it felt like everything was going wrong"

as a suffix: "something cat-like"

in informal discourse, like has many other meanings

as an approximative adverb: "we went like 30 miles". it's decent to just characterize it here as a synonym for "about/approximately/around"

as a discourse marker: "like one of my cats meows a lot, 'cause like he's picky". similar to "i mean, i was wondering..." and "you know, i was wondering", this usage helps to connect chains of thought together / introduces things to a conversation.

as a discourse particle: "and she's like a little weird". contrary to popular belief this is not useless -- it's just hard to define its meaning and why it's useful. to give a general idea though: in this study, they found that ppl who used like as a particle were perceived as younger and less educated -- but also more friendly and polite. refusing to use particles makes speech sound stilted and awkward -- like is a social glue.

as quotative be + like: "and he was like 'wow!'"

quotative be + like my beloved

the quotative be + like deserves its own special section as one of the coolest things ever!!!!

firstly, quotative be + like can be used not just to quote people, but also to just generally express an idea: "it's like, no, absolutely not". as one paper said, there is "no need to designate a speaker". no one is being quoted -- it's just a statement about a vibe.

secondly, as op pointed out, "i was like 'what the fuck'" vs "i said 'what the fuck'" are indeed very different in connotation! quotative be+like (and similar non-traditional quotatives like go and be+all) are awesome because aren't usually interpreted as literal. you don't report what was said -- you instead convey an attitude, your "inner speech" / frame of mind.

this means you can portray your (speaker) opinion, a summary of what happened/what was said, and characterize the quotee + their opinion ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

thirdly, not only can be + like be used as a replacement for a variety of quotative words like say, think, ask, etc., BE + LIKE IS ALSO LINKED TO GESTURES AND ACTIONS IN A WAY THAT'S HARD TO DO WITH TRADITIONAL QUOTATIVES.

"Enquoting voices, accomplishing talk: Uses of be + like in Instant Messaging" talks a bit about this phenomenon. you can make non-oral gestures as part of oral speech!!! "and i was like [hand gesture]" vs "and i said [hand gesture]". for orally-spoken english, only the first one makes sense!!! be + like allows you to literally quote movement, WITH all the features of non-literalness and attitude included!!!

as discussed in the amazingly-titled paper "& she was like "O_O": animation of Reported Speech on Twitter", the quotative be + like takes on even cooler functions when it's used online in text conversations. it can be used

for actions: "he was like: *walks into room* *walks out*" or "i got sand in my eye and i was like '-_e'"

for emoticons/emojis to convey facial expressions, even without a quotation attached: "he was like :D" works, but "he said :D" doesn't!

for an attitude that has no specific action associated with it, but conveys feeling: "and she was like '</3'", "i was like '!'". can i make the metal gear solid alert sound with my mouth? no, but i can quote how it makes me feel!

other interesting discussions from "Like and Language Ideology":

"women use like more than men" is a misleading statement: it depends on the function of like you're looking at! women tend to say use quotative like & discourse marker like more often than men. adverbs are evenly split. men use the discourse particle version more often. *note that this study took place several years ago and i have not looked at others, other/newer data may be different as language changes & studies like this aren't necessarily the truth everywhere. english is used in so many places by so many different groups of people, it's impossible to draw 100% generalizations

"like can go anywhere": no. even as a particle it is NOT just allowed to go anywhere. it's not randomly placed, it's just a versatile queen!!!! depending on its position it can take on different functions, but it can't go just anywhere!

"i'd like wake up and feel good" ✅ totally fine!

"i'd wake up like and feel good" ❌????

since like is used in so many different ways, different functions of it probably emerged at very different times

as a discourse marker & particle, like has been used this way since (at least) the 1840s(!!)

as an approximative adverb, a synonym for "about", it's probably been around thru most of the 20th century

the quotative like probably is the only one that is actually related to "valley girls" as a social phenomenon in the 80s. it may be the case that it was already in use, though, and that "valley girls" as a thing in american media popularized it, and possibly other forms of like.... in america. but non-americans use this too! it's complicated and hard to tell how language usage spreads :)

tl;dr people who don't like like are being prescriptivist about language, misunderstanding its usefulness, and are missing out

the humble "like" is oft mocked despite what it does for us. "like, three people" is a vastly different statement from "three people". "and i was like 'what the fuck'" is vastly different from "and i said 'what the fuck'". i love you "like" and anyone who says you make people sound stupid will be killed on sight

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[krysmcscience]

I have some questions about karaoke night, Alex Hirsch. Very Important Questions. Which I will happily scream at a poor hapless baby triangle who can have no answers for me, and possibly also does not have object permanence yet.

Follow-up that is I guess suggestive, but let's be real here, Bill's a fucking triangle:

Dude slipped right into his birthday suit, lmao

this is so stupid :D

Anyway, I don't care what anyone says, this brilliant individual knows what's up - Bill is absolutely way more of a monsterfucker than Ford could or ever will be, full stop.

[artsymeeshee]

Random idea I got this morning thinking about how small little things (mostly about missing important moments of the past) make the boys emotional and sorrowful.

[paintedcrows]

Holiday Classics

Been thinking about Ford watching the 70s Animated Lord of the Rings Movies... (companion comic to this post!)

[technically-human]

Payneland² 

[gerrykeay]

im not putting this post into words. beams into your mind The Parallels

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[notbrucewayne48]

"aphobia doesn't exist"

bitch literally not that long ago an aroace youtuber animator was insulted by almost half of its community for being it