#I don't want to lose my loved ones. I don't want to lose myself

[alchemistc]

@liminalmemories21 - this isn't exactly what you asked for but:

Abby C. 8:51 PM: So how'd it go? With the talking?

Buck stares at the message. Stares at the milk frother sitting in his counter, and the candlesticks he'd really considered dropping off the side of his upper balcony, ten minutes ago. (He's a firefighter, he knows how that ends. But, like. Still)

Bad, he texts back. So bad. But he also won't give me my sweatshirt back and I know he has it. Any sage advice?

It's a little weird to be texting her. She'd been one of the first people he'd ever talked to consistently on the phone, and he'd grown to enjoy it, grown to appreciate that voice in his ear.

Abby texts back immediately: I'm not entirely sure I know what that means. He actually LIKED you.

Buck can feel the buzzing under his skin, the rush of adrenaline at remembering Tommy not only not denying he'd loved Buck, but admitting off-hand that he still did.

It means I'm getting my man back, Buck sends, and then stares at the slippers he can see poking out from the right side of the bed.

His phone rings.

"You know," Abby starts, before Buck can so much as greet her. "I spent a long time beating myself up for not seeing this as a sign, but that's not the point."

"What... is the point?"

Abby chuckles. She sounds good. Happy. Buck is far enough removed from it to feel glad for her, and jealous of her, and then he's rolling right back around to being fucking livid that Abby and Tommy had both run. Different reasons, same result. A first of Buck's that'd just walked away.

"He used to watch movies with my mom constantly. All the terrible schlock that I couldn't stand - Hallmark movies, and D-Lister rom coms, all those trite based on true events Lifetime shows."

Buck nods. Waits for her to continue.

She doesn't.

"I'm not picking up what you're dropping down."

"He and my mom would just critique them all the way through. Just tear them to shreds. What was unrealistic, what was just plain stupid. She - mom was never more lucid than when she and Tommy were bemoaning the lack of reality in those movies."

"Listen, I already know asking him to move in with me was a dumb idea. I'm the himbo, remember?"

Abby pauses. "...that's what he called you?"

"Apparently all your mutual friends did."

Abby sighs. "The point is, Buck. They liked watching them because they liked talking about what real relationships were actually like. What happened after a curtain close kiss, how much a couple was gonna fight over the financial sustainability of a Christmas themed donut shop, what the fiance that got left behind in the big city was gonna do now that they were finally free of the person who'd spent the holiday season losing their entire brains. Tommy's a realist. He wants to be stopped before he gets on the plane, but he wants to be stopped because you already have a ten step plan to make things work. And he's terrified of giving too much of himself away to someone who thinks he shits rainbows and puppies and hasn't reckoned with the fact that he's just as screwed up as the rest of us."

"You swear more than I remember."

Abby laughs. " But you see my point?"

Buck doesn't want to. But he does. "Well, I definitely don't think he's perfect anymore."

"And you still love him." She says it like she knows. She says it like she'd once expected to spend a life with Tommy Kinard.

"And I still love him," Buck acknowledges, and they both drift into silence. It's comfortable. Easy. He sort of misses being able to talk to her about shit like this.

"Call me if you need anything, Buck."

Buck hangs up the phone with a million new, vaguely more hopeful thoughts swirling around in his brain.

Twenty minutes later he texts her one more time: This is the only sex thing you're getting from me - that thing he does with your nipples? What the fuck?

Abby C. 9:22 PM: I taught him that. You're welcome.

Tommy ignores the knock at his door. He's in day three pajamas and the only person who might make the effort to check in on him is his exes best friend. Which.

The knocking continues.

It's getting louder.

There's a Kings game on in the background and he's been elbow deep in the Jeep manual he'd finally cracked open in some sort of weird, fucked up pattern of mourning.

Tommy's never gonna buy a fucking Jeep. He hates them. You own one for more than five years and more than half the parts are replacement parts.

He's been staring at a diagram of the timing belt for half an hour, at least. The last thing he remembers about the game is Kuemper letting in three goals on five shots and somehow the Kings are up two, now, and there's still 25 minutes of game time left.

Tommy reaches for the remote. Turns the volume up.

The knocking returns less than a minute later.

---

There's a box of odds and ends tucked under the table in his entryway. He avoids looking at it. He knows there are a few things missing from it and he really doesn't want to examine what he'll have to do to avoid giving it to Eddie tonight. He cut the cords, he shouldn't be lingering watching the frayed edges sway in the wind, clutching his line like there's anything braced on the other side of it.

Evan's oldest, softest LAFD hoodie, the one that's technically too small for both of them but has stretched shockingly evenly and is definitely not sitting unwashed at the bottom of Tommy's laundry basket. The program from a recital of Denny's they'd stopped by to support him for, on their way out of town for a long weekend. Evan's stupid keto bread and the milk frother he'd left behind three months ago and never bothered to grab because he had more than one.

Whoever is at his door is still fucking knocking, and suddenly Tommy doesn't feel like being polite. He'll shove the box in Eddie's arms and tell him to fuck off and close the last few remaining open doors he has to this.

Only when he swings the door wide it's not Eddie on the other side, and the box nearly takes out whatever Evan - Buck, Jesus Christ - has in his own arms.

Not a Tommy box - too small for all the shit that he'd left behind. He misses the house slippers that had had a permanent spot tucked under the left side of the bed.

Tommy flinches, reels away, tries to shove the box away before Buck can see its contents.

"What are you doing here?" Even tone. No quiver in his voice. He's been called rude and dismissive for less.

Buck scowls. Hefts the rectangular dish in his hands and shoves past Tommy before Tommy can blink.

It's silly to say he chases after him, down the hallway towards the kitchen, but he's not exactly following along behind at a casual leisurely pace.

The glass pan slams down on his kitchen counter and Buck spends a minute staring at the calendar he was only getting two months out of because he couldn't look at the one with all Buck's notes penned in anymore.

"Wow," Buck says, and shifts his weight awkwardly.

"What are you -?"

"Jee and I made you birthday cupcakes," Buck says. His voice is hard. Angry. Hurt. "Happy birthday, asshole."

---

He cracks the lid and there are only three cupcakes inside. Tommy forgets himself. Raises a brow, amusement rolling over him pleasantly, prepared to tease him, but then he catches the set of Buck's legs and the curl of his mouth and the tight way his arm tucks itself back in against his belly, a protective gesture that reminds Tommy very effectively what this is.

"Why?" Tommy wonders aloud, and Evan's scowl deepens.

Buck's scowl.

God.

"We've been planning it for weeks." Something flashes across his eyes before he schools his features. "Jee made me promise to bring you some."

"She must not be a skilled baker," Tommy jokes. "If these are the only ones that made it."

Evan's expression twists. "I ate most of them."

The frosting looks fresh. No creases in the paper cup holding them together.

"I had to make a new batch of frosting because I used some of it for -." He cuts himself off. Looks like he'd like to throw it in Tommy's face but can't quite force himself to hurt Tommy.

It hurts as much as he'd expected, anyway.

The world is a small place. It's not the first time he's had to speak to an ex when he didn't want to. It's never pleasant.

This is worse. The cut and run is supposed to give him time.

Evan Buckley has been an ache behind his ribcage for months, now, long before he'd made that final decision. He'd known it was too little too late. Buck's gonna be the shadow other men see behind his eyes for years.

Buck's apparently found and slept with someone within the week and a half span from Tommy walking out to his sad shitty mopey birthday.

That he'd forgotten about.

Tommy leans in. Picks up a cupcake. Licks a stripe through the frosting and makes a face when he realizes it's buttercream.

"The ones you were supposed to get had the whipped cream one you like," Buck says, accusingly.

That somehow stings just a little bit extra.

Tommy pulls back the paper, takes a bite. There's raspberry filling inside, and Tommy can feel tears prickling at the edges of his eyes, because when he'd told Evan about how his grandma baked he'd been thinking of Evan being a grandparent, the kind of shit he'd forbidden himself from imagining with anyone he was dating years ago.

"Thank you," he manages, and Buck frowns.

"He thought the whipped cream was too sweet." And Tommy probably deserves this but he's not particularly in the mood.

"Cut it out, Buck."

Buck rolls his jaw. "I just figured you'd wanna know how it's going. Maybe I could tally up the hookups for you, count them all up by gender and stamina and opinions on how I should feel and act and fall for someone. Find out if I'm actually gay enough to be a man's last."

---

The rest of the cupcake kind of collapses and oozes as Tommy smacks it down on the counter. He takes thirty seconds to pull the other two cupcakes out before he's grabbing the too-large fake Pyrex and turning heel. The keto bread goes in the pan. Then the milk frother.

Tommy yanks the recital program off the fridge and tosses it in the trash.

Buck almost looks triumphant.

"The box under the side table has the rest. You can see yourself out."

He actually does exactly as he's told, and Tommy listens to his footsteps drift off, shoulders hunched in and the breath tight in his throat. He'd been cruel, it was only fair Buck got a few final kicks in.

Tommy sucks in a breath and blinks away the moisture at the edges of his vision.

The footsteps take a heel turn at the side table and turn right back around.

"This isn't everything."

Tommy half expects some panned comment about how Tommy's got his heart - the kind of silly shit he'd say to a dead outlaw.

"My sweatshirt," Buck says, and Tommy freezes.

He could lie. He could pretend he had no idea where it was. Claim he didn't remember it even being here, because that particular piece of clothing did have a tendency to travel.

He doesn't fucking want to hand that one over.

Buck smirks, like he's caught the crack, and is looking for ways to exploit it.

"I own my own house!" Tommy says, and it's a terrible launching point but Buck latches on.

"You just left, Tommy! I know I jumped the gun, Tommy, but you didn't even - you just left! I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry I didn't know I was into men until you. I'm sorry you had to be my first, I'm sure that must have been such a burden for you."

"That's not fair."

"You didn't even give me a chance. That was - I'm so angry with you, Tommy. I'm so fucking mad."

"I know."

"But that's what you planned for, right? That's - you ripped the bandaid, Tommy, except there's a whole fucking untreated stab wound right underneath and it's still bleeding, Tommy."

"Did you even make this round of cupcakes with your niece?" It's better to keep his family's names out of his mouth. Just keep those ties cut.

Buck looks livid. "No, you idiot, I whipped up a tiny batch of this recipe just for the excuse to see you and - and tell you what a stupid, awful coward you are."

"That's not f-." He isn't sure whether Buck is being facetious about the small batch thing or not. He doesn't have any time to think about it.

"My sister and Chim are having another baby. Bobby and Athena are probably gonna host Christmas this year. Eddie shaved off the mustache and he's, like, dancing now, I guess. Hen and Karen are good for the first time in -." He shakes his head. Stares at Tommy. Tommy can't quite hide from that gaze. "We were good, Tommy. We were - you loved me."

He'd never said the words. Neither had Evan, but they'd both known. Both felt it. Tommy let it go too far, did it scared for longer than he usually would.

"It's not like that just went away when I walked out, Evan," Tommy hisses, and then regrets it immediately.

Evan has spent most of this visit pushing, pressing, digging fingers into the wound to make it hurt.

Evan goes silent now, reeling back a little. He seems shocked that Tommy had admitted it.

"I want you to go," Tommy says. "I need you to go, Buck."

It was the right dagger the first time, but apparently it's only effective once.

"I love you too, you know." His voice is soft. Tommy can't meet his eye. "And I hate you. I hate you even though I know that's what you wanted but I love you too much to not hate you out of spite."

Tommy knows if he caves it's done. He's signing himself over to whatever fucked thing will end them a week, a month, five years, two decades from now.

"Go home, Buck. Hate me there."

---

He goes in for the kill.

"I called Abby, two nights ago."

Right for the jugular. No survivors.

"She laughed for like twenty minutes, and then she tried to get me to chat about our sex life for comparison, and then she was shocked silent for a full minute when I wouldn't." Because Evan had always been a little too open about those details. "She also told me she forgave you but she doesn't think you ever forgave yourself."

Tommy agrees. For all that they'd been terrible for each other, they'd known how the hell to take care of one another like no one's business.

"I want you to go," Tommy says, steady, quiet, nearly a snark for how deep his voice goes to hide the tremor in it.

Buck cocks a hip against the doorframe. "I want my sweatshirt."

The breath that escapes him is shaky, but her think he hides most of it behind the hand over his face, the finger pinched at the bridge of his nose.

"I can't do this."

"Exactly how many men and women do I have to fuck before you believe the future I'm looking at is with you?"

"All of them! None! It was a stupid thing to say and it's not what I meant and I can't do this."

Buck spins on his heel. Grabs the box he'd set aside and hefts it up into his arms. "I'm coming back for my sweatshirt," he says. "You let me know whether you want to talk about the data points of the sexuality spreadsheet or about us."

"There is no us, Buck." His voice sounds defeated even to himself.

"If that was true you'd just give me the stupid sweater and be done."

Tommy sits in silence. He does not get up to retrieve the hoodie. Buck is still angry, but his smile is wide and bashful.

Tommy listens to his footsteps trail down the hall, towards the door, out of it. He hears the Jeep's ignition catch, the wheels roll off the drive.

He realizes he'd left the goddamn Jeep manual open on the timing belt page, right there on his side table where he'd pointed out the things he wanted Evan to take to clear him from his life.

---

There is someone knocking at his door.

Tommy doesn't quite ignore it.

He hid the sweatshirt in one of his toolbox drawers when Evan texted him this morning to let him know he'd be over with a six pack and a pot of chili.

There's a zero percent chance Evan's getting that sweatshirt back, tonight.

[crimsoncandy04]

You know what? Fuck society.

(yandereifies your Kabukimono cutely.) (He's obsessed and afraid of losing you)

His hands held onto yours tightly as he pinned you underneath him on the soft mattress below you. His sweet face flushed with both desire and a deep sinister rage that simmered within his soul.

You had no idea your new roommate would be this upset over you simply wanting to go have dinner with a friend.

His innocent and kind disposition was clearly hiding something else deep inside of him. Something very dark...

...and utterly desperate for affection...

"You lied to me. You lied! You said you wouldn't leave me alone ever again after the last time!" His voice sounded both hurt and slightly unstable.

You tried to shake your head.

"Kabu no you don't understand! It was just a small thing I was doing with my friends! Just a few drinks together. I swear I was going to come back!"

"No! No! You were going to get hurt! What if you drank too much and fell down? What if you accidentally got sick or injured? What if someone attacked you? You were going to LEAVE me!"

His hands shook a little as they held yours in place beside your head.

Oh archons was he going to hurt you or something?

No.

The opposite actually.

Suddenly Kabukimono leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. Your heart raced as you felt his tongue gently lick your bottom lip as if asking for permission before he shoved it into your mouth. You blush and feel yourself freeze as you're mentally caught between shock and excitement.

"K-Kabu... when did you learn how to kiss?" You suddenly ask timidly.

He smiles teasingly at you as he moves to leave more small kisses down the side of your neck. His gentle yet raspy tone whispering in your ear.

"I may have seen people do it before... and read a few books. Taught myself the basics just in case. That type of stuff is everywhere you know? I'm surprised you actually believe I somehow WOULDN'T know by now. I'm not a child you know?"

You feel yourself getting flustered at his words.

Kabu had read dirty books before?

You feel his lower body press against yours next. A small gasp escaping from your lips as he lets go of one of your hands and moves to secure them with one as the free hand of his now runs down your chest and stomach. Stopping to cup the warmth between your thighs.

"Hey don't touch there ~" you can't help but moan softly at the sensation even if it's slightly unexpected. His fingers are both gentle and commanding all at once as they slowly trace along your clothed slit.

"But I have to touch here so it doesn't hurt. I need to get you ready right? Don't worry, I'll try to make it feel very good ~" his warm tone gave you little comfort but something about him practically kept you under a spell as you lay there trying not to moan as you felt Kabukimono slide your panties aside and carefully ease two fingers deep inside of you.

You whimper softly as you feel him move them around a little. Trying to see what made you feel best as he kept his eyes on your face. Finally he got a small moan out of you. A small smile spread across his face as he repeated the movement. Scissoring your insides open with his long slender fingers and rubbing your sweet spot as lewd noises escaped your mouth shamelessly.

"Kabu! Kabu please! It feels good! I love this!" You gasp as he doubles down and finally releases your hands. You grip the sheets as his other hand goes to push up your blouse and expose your breasts to him. He leans down to take one of the soft peaks of tender flesh into his cool wet mouth. Moaning a little himself as he sucked gently on your nipple and continued to finger you.

You feel your pussy clench around his fingers. Your breath coming out in gasps as you feel yourself cum on his hand.

He releases your nipple from his mouth and brings his fingers to his lips instead. Sticking them between his lips as he cleans your delicious juices from them hungrily.

"You taste so good Y/N~ I want to hear you make more of those cute noises too~"

You don't immediately notice in your daze. But by the time you do realize Kabukimono is fucking you, it's too late and he's already prying your knees further apart as he slides in between them. His tip teasing your entrance before plunging inside your oversensitive cunt to the hilt. A lovely moan leaves his lips as he pauses for a second. Almost as if he was taking in the feeling of being inside of you before slowly beginning to thrust.

He probably knew his size could hurt. So he was trying to be careful as you feel his tip kiss your cervix. His balls smacking against your ass as he leaned down to give you another kiss.

Kabukimono felt so right inside of you.

Like his cock was made for you and you in turn, fit him perfectly as well. You finally lose your composure then as he pushes your knees up a little and begins to fuck a little faster into you. His words coming out in between moans as he practically breeds you underneath him.

"Y/N never leave me! Please stay. I'll make you stay. You will stay! Please I love you!" He kisses you again. Sloppy and greedy kisses.

"Kabu harder! Please give me more! I need you! Please fuck me harder!" You whine as he obeys your slutty wishes.

"Y/N I'm going to knock you up ~ Then you'll have no choice but to stay with me forever ~ Don't worry, I'll take care of you ~ I want to fuck you everyday ~" he teased in between more kisses and a small lick across your cheek.

"You're so tight Y/N...so warm~" he cooed. His thrusts getting faster now as he got closer to his release.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close as you feel your own body reaching it's second peak too.

"Kabu please cum with me! I love you so much!" You whine. His eyes full of nothing but adoration and lust as they gaze down at your lewd expression lovingly.

"I love you too Y/N! Let's be together forever!" Both of you end up finishing after that. The feeling of your love fluids mixing together in your cunt gives you shivers as Kabukimono collapses on top of you. You both lay holding each other after that. The moon gets brighter in the night sky as you feel his cock harden against your thigh once more.

[funnyinsanegirl]

Second Chances [Touya Todoroki x Reader]

˙⋆✮ That's So True ✮⋆˙

"Looking into big blue eyes. Did it just to hurt me, make me cry Smiling through it all, yeah, that's my life."

even villains deserve a lil redemption

Dabi x F. Reader

𓂃ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂�� ༄˖°𓂃ﾟ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ.

WC: 1398

I'm sat on my thrifted couch by the window as rain softly beats against the glass. I press play on the voicemail for what feels like the millionth time, the words already burned into my memory, but still, I can’t help myself. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe hearing it again will change something.

"Y/N, please come back. What I did was wrong, it’s been months... I can’t lose you. The league misses you, too. Toga won't shut her damn mouth about you. Fuck, I’m so drunk right now... I love you. I know I didn’t say it often, but—"

The sound of Shigaraki’s raspy voice cuts through, sharp and impatient. "What are you yapping about?" he snarls. "We’ve got shit to do, wrap it up."

Dabi’s voice stumbles back in, slurred. "Bye, Y/N. I have to get a new burner soon- I’ll try calling again. Fuck, I know you won’t pick up. You haven’t the last dozen times but I’ll try." The message ends with a quiet beep.

It’s been three months since that call. And by then, I’d already been gone for seven. Seven months since the night I left him—the night I left all of them behind. His betrayal, his lies... it was too much. It’s been almost a year since I stepped away from the league, from the chaos, from the life that almost consumed me and swallowed me whole. A year since I walked out and didn’t look back.

I’m lucky, though. So stupidly lucky. My quiet, lowkey role in the league made slipping away easy, there were no repercussions or police coming after me every time I stepped foot outside. I’ve kept off the radar, built a new life for myself—a quiet life. I work at a flower shop now, which is insanely different than working as a villain for Shigaraki and the League of Villains, and it smells a lot better too. I’ve even gotten myself a little apartment on the edge of town, cozy, with a window that overlooks a quiet street, and roommate, which is actually just a little calico kitty that I named Cupcakes.

I’ve found peace here. Real peace. But the voicemail keeps pulling at me like a thread that came loose on a favorite sweater, both painful circumstances. And no matter how hard I try to ignore it, I know Dabi’s voice will haunt me forever if I don't talk to him at least one more time, and attempt to get better closure than some shitty drunk voicemail.

I text Giran, the broker that supplies the league with everything, including burner phones. Dabi stopped calling recently, so I assumed he lost my number with the last burner, because knowing him, he wouldn't stop calling just to give me space.

Me: Hi Giran! It's Y/N, I know we haven't talked in a while, but I was wondering if you know Dabi's current burner phone #? 😇

He gets back to me almost immediately.

Giran: Y/N!! So good to hear from you, kid, thought you fell off the planet lmao. And yea I can send the number. Giran: ###-###-####

He sends me the number, and I dial it immediately, my hands trembling. After a few rings, Dabi picks up, his voice sounding annoyed. "Who’s this? And how’d you get this number?"

"Hey, uhm... it’s me, Y/N."

"Y/N?" His tone softens, a hint of surprise in his voice. "Didn’t think I’d hear from you tonight. What’s up?"

I hesitate for a moment before speaking. "I just wanted to talk... are you busy?" I can hear a lot of voices in the background—probably everyone from the League. "If you’re tied up, it’s fine. It’s nothing important."

"Never too busy for you, doll." His voice shifts, and I hear him step away from the noise, the background chatter fading as he walks off.

The noise in the background slowly fades as he steps away, and I imagine him walking down a hallway, his boots hitting the floor with a slow, deliberate rhythm. The sounds of his breathing and the soft hum of his movements are the only things I can hear now. It’s strange, this feeling of distance and closeness at the same time.

“Alright, I’m all yours,” Dabi says, his voice rough but clear now, like he’s giving me his full attention. “What’s on your mind, Y/N?”

I swallow hard, staring at the rain outside, the droplets running down the glass, blurring everything in sight. My heart races in my chest, a million thoughts running through my head, none of them making sense. “I don’t know,” I admit, running a hand through my h/c hair. “I guess... I just needed to hear your voice.”

“Yeah, I figured that.” He lets out a soft chuckle, though it sounds a little strained. “You’ve been gone for a while. Thought you were never gonna reach out.”

“I didn’t think I would either,” I reply quietly. “But... I keep listening to that last voicemail you left. Over and over again. I just... I couldn’t stop myself.”

There’s another long pause, and I can almost hear the shift in his posture. Maybe he’s rubbing his face, or clenching his jaw. I wouldn’t be surprised. Dabi’s never been one for easy emotions. “Shit,” he mutters, sounding like he’s been through too much to deal with this. “I shouldn’t have left that message. I meant what I said but I wish I said it better, I wasn’t thinking straight.”

"It's okay. I liked it." I say softly.

"Really?" He asks, his voice almost in disbelief at me admitting that I enjoy his shitty drunk voicemail despite everything. 

“Yeah,” I answer quietly, feeling the weight of the words settle between us. “It wasn't like you at all- guess the liquid courage helped a lil, huh?" I laugh dryly, "It was real sweet its own way. I could tell you meant it, even if you were drunk n didn’t know how to say it.”

Dabi’s silence on the other end feels heavier now. I can almost picture him—frowning, leaning against a wall, trying to collect himself. "Fuck," he mutters after a moment, voice low. "I never thought I'd hear you say something like that. But... I'm glad you did."

“I’ve been avoiding it,” I admit, my fingers tightening around my phone. "Avoiding you, avoiding everything. But I can’t keep running forever."

Dabi lets out a long exhale, like a weight’s been lifted from his chest. "I get it. I know you had your reasons for leaving, and I don’t blame you for it. I fucked up." His voice drops a little. "But if I’m being honest... I’ve missed you, Y/N. More than I ever thought I would."

My heart skips a beat. It’s strange to hear him speak so plainly, without the usual sharpness in his voice. "I’ve missed you too," I whisper before I can stop myself. The confession catches me off guard, and I quickly add, "But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to just jump back into everything. Things are... complicated."

"I know," Dabi replies, quieter now, as if he’s absorbing my words. "I’m not asking you to. I’m just... saying that I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. If you want me to prove it, I’ll prove it."

There’s something in his voice now that feels different, a promise without needing the words. A subtle shift in how he speaks to me, less like the cocky villain and more like a person who’s afraid of losing something he doesn’t deserve.

I stare out the window at the rain, a tightness in my chest as I let the quiet wash over me. I know I can’t go back to the way things were, but maybe—just maybe—I can start a new chapter with him, one where we’re both trying, even if we don’t have all the answers.

“I don’t know how I feel yet,” I say finally, voice soft but steady. “But... maybe we can try again. Slowly.”

Dabi’s voice is quieter now, but there's an undeniable relief in it. "That’s all I need. A chance. We can take it slow."

I lean back against the couch, closing my eyes as I listen to the steady rain and his steady breathing on the other end of the line. For the first time in a long while, the knot in my chest begins to loosen. There’s no going back to what we were before, but maybe there’s still a chance for something else.

"Alright," I whisper, a faint smile tugging at my lips despite myself. "Let’s see where this goes."

𓂃ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ༄˖°𓂃ﾟ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ.

[v88sy]

There are some blogs optimistic about Tommy back at some point, what are your thoughts about it?

I don't want to get too optimistic, because that's how we got ourselves here in the first place. Let's be honest. This was always a possibility and was even laid out as a possibility in the articles/interviews, we just chose to get too high on the hope. We were treating it as a sure thing and that was never the case. We duped ourselves a little on this one, and yes, I'm absolutely including myself.

Now, as many have pointed out (which I absolutely agree with) if you were to be completely oblivious about the articles and/or what they said, the breakup very much looks like it's open ended. It looks like something that's unresolved or meant to be resolved at a later date. They made it something that could be resolved. Something like moving away or wanting completely different things in life is a lot harder to work through and more definative. They clearly both want to be with each other. Tommy said he wanted to be Buck's last. He said he wouldn't be able to deal with the (what he thought was inevitable) heartbreak. You only get hurt that deep when you lose something you wanted that bad.

This is honestly the first time we ever heard Buck even utter the words "engaged" or "married" to any of his SOs. I do think it's something he wanted down the road, I just don't think he was there yet, and that's absolutely fine. The relationship was still very new. There was clearly a lot they didn't know about each other yet.

It was far too soon to make the commitment of moving in, and Tommy was just trying to stop things from getting any further before he got too deep (too late, me thinks.)

If you remove the clear bias of the journalists writing these "exit interviews" (is that even a thing in television?) they start to sound much like your run of the mill interview they do with every main after they have a major storyline play out on screen. Look at the direct quotes, not what the journalists are inferring for themselves.

All that being said, I'm not getting my hopes up, and I'm not planning on watching live again until I have a definite as to where the storyline is going, and if that takes until the final episode ever, so be it. I will get back to it eventually. Until then, I'll be keeping tabs on what's going on through Tumblr.

Now, this is just a little thought in my brain that has absolutely nothing to back it up whatsoever. I think maybe either Lou needed this break to get away from the bs and finish his role on SWAT, or they gave it to him and he's taking it.

We know he was surprised, but what he was surprised about was how soon it happened. Tells me that at least a temporary break was planned, just not until further down. Or maybe he only meant the disagreement.

We very much know Tim likes to plan out his story about 5 seconds in advance, there could be a tentative plan to maybe bring Tommy back down the road, say, after the midseason hiatus. Could even be the "project that may or may not be happening" that Lou had mentioned.

Buck is my favorite character, but I'm not interested in seeing him regress or go through the same storyline for the millionth time. If he doesn't at least try and fight for Tommy or talk things out with him, it's just more of the same season 5 Buck. I love 99% of the other characters too, but they also suffer from the Groundhog's Day writing and I'm just old and tired.

[overnightheartbeats]

Cloud nine was too low for the blissful feeling she was experiencing as he returned her kiss. Laurel hoped, but didn't expect. Feeling him so close to her, well, it was impossible to melt while in his arms. "Clearly many talents," she agreed breathlessly, happily remaining in the daze he left her when he pulled away. Her knees felt weak, and she couldn't be more thankful for the seat she was on. There was no denying, she had fallen for him. It was a thing, right? Love at first dance? "The baby whisperer," the title made her laugh, picturing him as the ultimate babysitter. "Oh that sounds so cute, watching her grow up. You probably have some really good stories from your babysitting days. I can see why she's so close to you, big brother duties." Laurel rested her chin on her palm, listening to him talk more about Chicago. "I'm sorry to hear that, losing a home is not easy." Optimism wasn't her forte, despite the positivity she was trying to display, so she was familiar with his sentiment. It just saddened her that he didn't feel connected to a home, the sadness only increasing with his comment on his parents. Is that what led him here? "Maybe this place helps you find some hint or some direction to a new home. You still have a long time." After all, they were still so young. So much could happen, right? Wasn't that the world's big promise - adventure and twists/turns to find their place? "I know they'd love to meet you, hm I don't know about those stories though." Still, a resigned sigh followed. "They'll be eager to share the most embarrassing stories about me."

She had called herself an open book, so Laurel meant to deliver, even in the topics she tried avoiding. Her big one? Her family life. It often led to some variation of, that's family, you need to understand. The warmth from his hand soothed the turmoil she began to feel with the topic, like settling a storm that hadn't even begun. It was nice to hear otherwise for a change. "She's just...particular about what she wanted. You see past the dust then?" His reassurance brought a smile to her face, "careful what you wish for, but don't worry. I've been learning to be myself, promise." It helped to be in a new place with her dad, no more nagging in her ear. "You like to learn, and I like a challenge, hm...we'll be a good pair. We will add cooking to the list, finding a new recipe, and hope we don't burn the place down."

She was glad that he agreed, because it was the simple truth. It felt like a cliche to say that from the moment she saw him, but things really had not been the same since she spoke to him. "Good, consider it your new nickname. Pretty green eyes," how easily it flowed. "It could be, don't be surprised if I call you that in the middle of class." Or the middle of campus, that'd be funny. Would it embarrass him though? "You picked one hell of a state then." Not that she was complaining, Laurel probably wouldn't have met him otherwise. "Heatwaves are the standard here, but good to know you get irritable. I'll have to keep you near an a.c. unit."

Her eyes seemed to brighten just a smidge more, filled with excitement. "Really?" Laurel was basically a kid at Christmas. "I'd really like that. You can show me what I've been missing. We should totally plan it!" The thought had momentarily crossed her mind, thinking holiday plans and wanting to make the cabin idea happen for him, just to see him smile. Getting carried away was in her nature. But, him suggesting it? Well, that gave her free rein. "Have you visited any of them, or have a list of top three you'd like to visit? I'd like to spend any day with you, outside or inside. So, sign me up for this nature tour." She nodded without hesitation, confirmation was sitting right in front of her. "Nerdy is hot, absolutely. Sharing," she hummed in thought, even if the answer was already at the tip of her tongue. "No, I'm not a fan of sharing at all. Hope that's okay."

"Tell you what, you come over to my place. Well, my dad's place. We do that cooking lesson, and I can bring those pom poms out of retirement to see if the clap clap cheers stuck." Her voice was laced with amusement, using the words he used earlier. "I'm intrigued to hear these ideas you're thinking of. That would be great, company is really all I want, but I do love fun facts." Taking her hand shouldn't surprise her, but it still sent a light jolt of electricity through her. Laurel loved it though, how things flowed between them with barely any awkwardness. She felt like she had known him for ages, and not just weeks. "Green is a good one, might be becoming my favorite color too. Wow, you know all the good places. Madrid seems like a fun spot, and food..oh my god, probably so good. Me? I have a whole list of places, but top would be Brazil or Japan. Brazil for their carnival, but it also just looks so beautiful." She stepped into his room, offering him a smile as she looked around. "Thank you, I'll be alright." Couldn't get that cold, right? "Okay, I'll be here," she teased, knowing there was no intention to leave.

"Comfy looks good on you." No outside clothes. Well, Laurel was out of luck there. She was not exactly carrying an extra pair of pajamas in her backpack. "Makes sense, I'll just avoid your bed then. And, now I know the outside clothes thing, for future reference."

Eli smiled against her lips as she returned the kiss he had just given. There was no hesitation in reciprocating it. His hand cupped her face and pulled her close as he deepened the kiss for a brief moment. If this was what people called love, he wouldn't mind falling and break every bone in his body. The feeling was euphoric. Or maybe that was just Laurel. A soft chuckle escaped him as he dropped his hand and opened his eyes again to look at her. "I'm a man of many talents." His head nodded in acknowledgement. "They're the best but she's the one I watched grow up. She was the legit baby of the family. I cuddled her at night when she wouldn't settle. I think a big part of why her parents liked me was that I was the baby whisperer." Not only that but Emma understood him. Isa and Inez did too but they were different. Each sibling unlocked a hidden piece of what made Eli him. "You have a lot more hope for Chicago than I do. I think that is a nice sentiment but I think I'm done there. Visiting them is one thing but having a home, not really. That died with the parents." Again, Eli reverted to himself, the nomad having nowhere to call home. "Yes, really," he laughed. "I'd love to meet them. I am kind of curious to hear stories about you."

He felt for her but it wasn't pity. There was a longing there in her voice that told him that her mom wasn't a subject she liked going into but still would be willing to answer the question. Settling his hand over hers he smiled. "Sometimes people don't realize what type of diamond they have. They just see the dust and assume they're not worth much. Just because your mom had a harsher way to treat you doesn't mean you aren't worth it. Don't feel like you need to tone it down for me. I want you to be your unapologetic self." What he wanted her to take away from this was that he'd never make her change into something else to fit a mold she would never fit. "Mhm. I do like to learn. I like to get into something I've never done before. Cooking is one. Maybe we can come up with a new recipe."

An amused smile took over his features. "Fair enough. Drew you in." Lucky for him she even turned her head. "Pretty green eyes. I like it." Truly just because she said it. "Is that going to be your way to get my attention moving forward?" Amusement danced in his eyes as he leaned forward and chuckled thinking of the way everyone with colored eyes would turn if she did scream that out in the courtyard. "Definitely. I can't stand the heat. It makes me irritable. I don't like heatwaves." Now why did he pick Texas for his home would be something he'd never be able to explain but it felt like there was an inexplicable pull drawing him in to the blazing boot of a state.

"We can go together. Why not right? A cabin in the snow seems like we would both enjoy it." His eyebrows furrowed and a laugh was kept at bay as he realized she'd never had a real vacation. "Maybe we can change that. The winter break is coming up so why don't we head down to one of the National Parks and spend a day with nature. If you want to spend a day with me outside. I am a great nature guide." Eli slowly fanned his eyelashes and smirked. "Good to know you think nerdy is hot. Oh, you don't share is that it?"

"I might be trying to test your knowledge. See if any of those clap clap cheers stuck. Now, see that works well. I've got a few ideas on what we could do and since you're pretty confirmed to try something once then this should be easy." His mind had come up with multiple activities they could do and that already brought a smile to his face. "Company I can give. I'll bring at least one or two facts. It seems sad if there isn't something to learn." He took her hand and lead her out. Bag in the other hand and his hand holding one making sure they were locked. "Favorite color? Don't laugh but green. I like the color. It's nice and pretty. Place? Madrid. It is so vibrant. I'd love to go walk down their streets and eat their good food. You?" The shop wasn't too far from his dorm room which he was grateful for since he didn't want to keep walking so long. They reached his building and as he let go of her hand he took out his keys and opened his door for her to enter first. He dropped the bag of food on his desk, a neat pile of books and a laptop sitting on top and closed the door. 'Make yourself comfortable. If you want something to wear like a sweater take your pick. It gets cold here since I open the window. I'll be back."

He went to his closet and grabbed a blue sweater and sweats and his socks. After a five minute absence he came back out, hair outof his face and comfy clothes now on his person. "It's a thing we used to do. We don't sit with outside clothes on the bed."

[ajellybee]

kiss me through the phone

ino x gn! reader

cw! NSFW, MDNI

phone sex, ino is a needy needy touch starved man

  ₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Thinking about how when either one of you is away on a mission, phone sex becomes the norm. It didn't take much convincing when you brought it up initially. ino was more than eager to try it out.

ino became desperate himself when you gave him instructions over the phone. Hands shaking, breath uneven, cock unbearably hard, and face burning when you ask him how hard he is

"So h-hard it hurts, please...please let me touch myself, baby"

When you finally guide him through it shameless moans can be heard from his side. ino cums so hard and so fast it catches him off guard. And as a thank you he sends a picture of the mess he made for you all over his stomach and chest.

on the other hand, when it's his turn to guide you through it he's teasing you as payback.

"Nuh-uh don't touch 'em yet. Trace around your nipples yeah??...mm yeah now pull on them, pinch em just how I do it"

He makes you trace all over your body with your fingertips for what feels like hours(its def only been like 5 min) before ino allows you to touch where you want to most.

"Yeah, pretty baby. You gonna cum for me? Mmn go ahead, let me hear you"

Your orgasm hits you like a truck. With every flick, pinch, and pull you are sent over the edge, and he talks you through it the entire time.

"Oh, that was a good one huh? Send me a picture with your legs nice and spread."

needless to say, a couple hundred miles apart will NOT stop either of you from getting a good nut.

  ₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

I tried to do my best to make it as gender-neutral as possible, lmk if I need to improve on it!! id love for it to be enjoyable for everyone.

yeah im back chat, i needed to be horny on main cuz I was losing it.

the freak nasty demons came back.

[rosquinn]

One of my Dorian Gray hot takes is that there was absolutely nothing in Dorian and Basil's relationship that was healthy. I keep seeing posts like "Basil's love for Dorian was so pure, that's why the portrait was so pretty and the real villain of the story is Wotton because he corrupted it"

As I see it, yes, Wotton did corrupt him, but saying Basil's feelings for Dorian were pure is simply inaccurate to the story. Basil says himself he merely sees Dorian as an artistic ideal [Dorian Gray is to me simply a motive in art. I find him in the curves of certain lines, in the loveliness and subtleties of certain colours. That is all; ch1] and admitted he (a 10 year older man, who had power over him) tried to isolate him from other people and "keep him to himself". Furthermore, Basil also plays a big role in the way Dorian sees himself and his beauty, by painting him everyday and not maintaining any conversation with him, he's indirectly reaffirming what Wotton tells him: people only care about you because you're pretty and young. There is also this scene from the second chapter:

Dorian Gray turned and looked at him. "I believe you would, Basil. You like your art better than your friends. I am no more to you than a green bronze figure. Hardly as much, I dare say.

The painter stared in amazement. It was so unlike Dorian to speak like that. What had happened? He seemed quite angry. His face was flushed and his cheeksburning.

"Yes," he continued, "I am less to you than your ivory Hermes or your silver Faun. You will like them always. How long will you like me? Till I have my first wrinkle, I suppose. I know, now, that when one loses one's good looks, whatever they may be, one loses everything. Your picture has taught me that. Lord Henry Wotton is perfectly right. Youth is the only thing worth having. When I find that I am growing old, I shall kill myself."

Hallward turned pale and caught his hand. "Dorian! Dorian!" he cried, "don't talk like that. I have never had such a friend as you, and I shall never have suchanother. You are not jealous of material things, are you?-you who are finer than any of them!"

Dorian is even dealing with a suicidal ideation over what Wotton has told him and the way Basil sees him, he needs emotional validation, he's asking to be told there's more than him than that, and Basil's reaction is just─ no. You're prettier than any other object (indirectly comparing him to one, too).

Basil's view of Dorian influences how he sees people as much as Wotton's. For example, to Dorian Sybil was only what she pretended to be, he loved her performance, her acting, how she did exactly what the public wanted (which can apply to Dorian himself), not the real her. She was only an artistic ideal to him, she meant to him exactly what Dorian meant to Basil. He ignored her desires, pain and everything not related to what he wanted to see, since that's what he's been taught he must appreciate.

I also disagree with the interpretation of the portrait as a "pure" reflection of Basil's love (I would personally rather describe it as an obsession, though) and Dorians soul because it's not. At least not entirely. Part of the point of the book is that everyone only saw the part of Dorian they wanted: the portrait represents Basil's idolized version of him, what he wanted to see and how he refused to see Dorian as a person instead of an artistic ideal. That's why he tried to make him redeem himself, because he hated seeing his version of Dorian shatter into pieces. It was never Dorian entirely, not even after aging terribly because that's the result of Basil and Wotton's influence. The portrait was not his soul, it was a modified version of it other people played with because nobody cared about the whole thing, and the influence was so big those parts became his whole being. It was just an idolized, molded version at first but turned into his real self with the time and the sins. Dorian's soul (the portrait) was constructed upon what others appreciated about him, so when Wotton motivated him to sin, because Dorian's potential to be terrible was what mattered to him, it became ugly and terrible. There was absolutely nothing pure about that portrait since day 1.

[biblicallyaccuratecrow]

rambling about songs my brain associates with isat (pt. 1)

[woe, spoilers be upon ye!]

i have a 250+ song isat playlist. I am unhealthily obsessed with finding new songs to put in it. Here's a few that make me go absolutely batshit insane.

I've already rambled about this one on my art account a while back, but this song is so insanely loop-coded....

I'm standing on a stage Of fear and self-doubt It's a hollow play, But they'll clap anyway

You could give me any song that has some kind of reference to plays or theatre and I could probably find a way to make it about isat. but specifically this makes me think about twohats and how loop views their place in the world as a performance, a pawn, not even a character but a plot device... yeah

I'm living in an age That calls darkness light Though my language is dead Still the shapes fill my head I'm living in an age Whose name I don't know Though the fear keeps me moving, Still my heart beats so slow

I probably don't have to break this one down for you, but yeah, Island North of Vaugarde, the forgotten language... "still the shapes fill my head" has always in my mind referenced the stars and constellations, and how they're familiar but foreign...

-

thanks to @/ricecaqes and their trust ceremony animatic, this song lives in my head rent free. Even just as a whole this song is SO isat for me. literally from the first fucking lines:

Will I know when I’ve gone too far? Or frozen myself in time? An impossible brain with impossible wants Lost and astray, with impossible thoughts

like. it really can't get much more nail on the head than that?

then you got this:

So cold, I’m freezing Every piece of praise and sign that I’m believed in Solid in a crystal ball It bends the waves of the light to mend the rest of my life

and literally the first time I heard this song i paused it and said, out loud, "OH FUCK." Because. it's act 5 siffrin. Like, the slow descent into despair followed by the determination that the only way to perserve the life and the family they love is to keep them with him, to do the exact same thing the king did...

Do you also see your future starting with the farthest part? Live your life to close the space between the end and start And when it’s hard, do you hang onto any chance That you might be in control? That you’re the one who owns

For one, once you reach the end of act 2, you're constantly aware of the head housemaiden being as far as you can go, and then you're planning around it the entire time.

And then, you have. siffrin grasping for any kind of control they can have over the situation, desperately. and failing repeatedly because they simultaneously think that they are undeserving of getting what they ultimately want... yeah...

i won't go into the rest of the lyrics because honestly it's pretty well covered by the animatic but. yeah trust ceremony my sweet beloved.

-

rest in peace siffrin no middle no last name, you would have loved the mountain goats.

yeah uh. this one is also pretty high up on songs that make me go "damn that's siffrin alright".

I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam And no one in her right mind would make my home her home My heart's an autoclave

i think for me it's the idea of siffrin feeling like they're nothing, and even if they are something or someone, they are bad, worse than bad, worthless. also referencing homesickness.... yeah...

When I try to open up to you I get completely lost Houses swallowed by the earth, windows thick with frost And I reach deep down within, but the pathways twist and turn And there's no light anywhere, and nothing left to burn

I mean, this one is also pretty self-evident. siffrin losing hope while being stuck in the house... wanting to connect with the party but being completely uncapable of doing so out of the sheer terror of being left behind... act 5, with the house literally warping...

I dreamt that I was perched atop a throne of human skulls On a cliff above the ocean, howling wind and shrieking seagulls And the dream went on forever, one single static frame Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name

siffrin feels responsible for the loops, every aspect of them. their deaths, their party-member's deaths, their failures, everything. and in the end, all they really wanted was for someone to truly see them? to have a family, to not be left behind and forgotten by the world.... the importance of names and siffrin's name in particular in the story also makes this hit home for me.

-

for brevity's sake i'll just start with these three- if people are interested in hearing me justify my insane music choices i'll probably do more.... for now, see ya!

[wanderingmind867]

A higher quality image of the one I just posted. I made all my points over on that post, but to let myself reiterate: I love silver age Green Arrow's design. I grew up watching Batman: The Brave and The Bold (I think my public library even had some of the physical comics, which I read as a kid), so this is how I always see Green Arrow.

Also, I think Green Arrow loses his appeal after losing this design. It's like how Batman became darker after Robin left in 1969. After Green Arrow loses the clean shaven look, he starts dating Black Canary (who's still mourning her dead husband Larry Lance), Roy Harper is given a heroin problem (all to serve Denny O'Neil's moralistic storytelling), etc. We lose the lighthearted nature of the 60s, and I don't like that. Not one bit. But I've already used Denny O'Neil as my punching bag all day today. Also, I want Justice for Martian Manhunter and Snapper Carr, whom he wrote out and gave no respect!

“Membership for life”

Mike Sekowsky

[bird-likes-to-fandom]

if you make dementia jokes, I genuinely think you should go to hell. btw.

[chalkrub]

mockley time it's mockley time will you have some mockleys of mine

[musashi]

.

[drhannahasher]

@hopefulprotect

{I nodded in understanding as I heard and considered Will's words. It felt refreshing to know he believed in me. That he wanted me here in Chicago, in spite of how we left things when I relocated to California to rebuild my life. A part of me was concerned to return to Chicago. I wasn't naive... I saw how people in there watched me like I was under a microscope when I first arrived at Med today. I was aware of their disapproval and resentment over having to work with me in the OR today too. Not taking it lightly when they tried to question and counter my every move in the OR. I was great at my job. A fact that I proved today when I managed to do what was seemingly impossible when I managed to save the lives of both Alyssa and her baby today. I was neither cocky nor arrogant, but even I couldn't deny that few surgeons could have pulled off what I did today, which speaks volumes about my capabilities as a doctor and surgeon. Clearly or else Ms. Goodwin wouldn't have offered me the position that she did. She knew my history, but she also knew my abilities too, so I appreciated that she chose to see that over holding my past mistakes against me. I may not have the respect or trust from the majority of the Med staff, but at least I had Ms. Goodwin's and Will's, which honestly, was all I really wanted or needed in order for me to know that I could do this job} Thank you, Will. I appreciate the fact that you still believe in me. I'm also relieved that you don't seem to be holding our past against me. I blame myself fully for our relationship ending, but trust me, losing you isn't something I take lightly, Will. To date, it's one of my biggest regrets in my life. {I gently confessed. Knowing I may be saying too much now, but Will was honest with me, so I wanted to do the same with him now} As far as returning to Chicago goes though, I can do it. I'm the healthiest I've ever been. I'm clean. I promise you that. I'm not saying that every day is a picnic, because it's not. I have my rough days, but I'm doing the work to remain clean and healthy. {I shared honestly with Will as I took a sip on my water} I'll still take the evening to think it over, but I think it would be great to work together again. {I said with a warm smile as I lowered my glass of water back down onto the table before continuing} And if it's not too presumptuous to say this, it would be great to get to know each other again too. {I cautiously confessed. I still loved Will. That fact was clear in my mind. I just didn't know if he could ever trust me again for us to give our relationship another chance at some point down the line. I suppose you could say that jury was still out on that one though... You know, providing I do decide to take the job offered to me and I return to Chicago again}

continued

@drhannahasher

It was a big ask; a beg even for Hannah to overcome her struggles to come into Med to help me. And honestly thinking back to the call I had the low expectations she’d answer or yet come for my benefit. Hannah made it clear over a year ago when she left Chicago she left us, left me behind. It took the hold of constant rejected calls and unanswered messages to understand to see the bigger picture. She wanted nothing to do with me; she had tossed me aside when she had her relapse. And it stung; I cared I wanted to help her. I believed in her when she thought the worse version of herself. I saw the good in her; and yeah I wanted to keep her off the wagon, I knew what I was getting myself into when I fell for her. I knew she past; the struggles, but I also saw how strong she was. 

Hannah wasn’t how everyone perceived her after the accident; after being seen as a drug addict, after she left town. I believed she’d find what she was searching for. Even if it never included me. I had Jay on my back teasing about the pinning love I lost, as if he had something to say, given the fact he was not so subtle pinning for his partner might I add. Let’s just say our nights of going out for a drink had become quite frequent. But today wasn’t about my feelings, or my lack of covering what i felt for the blonde. It was about Alyssa a friend who I cared for. And her unborn child; her husband was on another table; one Ethan was working to fix, but my priority was in Hannah’s gallery because even if she didn’t want my support in the OR I was going to be in the gallery to oversea the process, I would never forgive myself if I never showed up. I was scared for Alyssa my childhood friend, but I knew the consequences if Hannah had messed up; not that I believed she would. 

Because I knew the female; she had skill, she worked with grace, which was only confirmed as I stood in the gallery. I glanced to the prying eyes of the residents; of interns who only knew of Hannah Asher through the whispers. But I saw Hannah first hand and I wanted to be proud of her. But her last comment stood in my head. “ Reunite you with Alyssa and the baby.” What does that mean? I had rack my mind on it. I was probably coming off as dumb now, but right now I was confused. Did Hannah think Alyssa and I were..? Did she believe I was the dad because of how far I fought for Alyssa? The questions kept looping around in my mind. And honestly I wouldn’t blame the blonde if she assumed. I did fight for Alyssa, I fought to get her the best care. The only OB I trusted to care for her. She was a friend someone I’d always go to bat for. But did I want to be with Alyssa? No of course not. Once a crush but now I was happy with being a doctor, of being the caring surgeon; the one that oversteps on almost every occasion. 

Hand rested on the wall; eyes glued to the scene. Hannah was working against her own OR, she was preparing to close up when it happened. She lost the stats, the baby was at risk, and Alyssa the blood flow was subsiding, I felt the lump that formed in my throat, and I knew the way her own staff spoke to her. No belief at all. I felt the rage, the anger coursing through my body. She was alone; and man it took every fiber in my body not to run down there; not to intervene, because I knew Hannah she was strong and brave, but she also felt the way people saw her. An addict. She probably wanted to run and never turn back. My heart ached for her, but I wanted to respect her boundaries which was me staying far from the OR. So I stayed in the gallery; I held my breath waiting; but by the end of the surgery I felt pride, I let out the exhale of relief i had been holding. She did it; the baby was okay, and Alyssa she was stable, I felt like I might cry over how phenomenal she was. I was proud of her; and that’s why I released my hold of the wall and I turned to leave the gallery. 

Each step I went with ease, as he walked the stairs, until I reached the ground floor. Will had made his way to the scrub room; where he knew he’d find her; as he pushed through the door he paused wanting to admire her handy work, the surgeon she was. 

“ I knew I put my faith in the right person, You did good. I don’t care what any one in that OR says, you showed what you are capable of.” And Will meant each word; as if it was close to his chest.

[justalittlebluetiefling]

I haven't been involved with coaching for almost 3 months now and somehow I am still getting dragged into the drama.

[batsplat]

casey also talks about sepang 2015 what do you think of that

oh in that podcast? uh... lemme listen again...

yeah idk it's not really anything new I'd say? he's said basically all the same stuff in more interesting and extensive ways elsewhere. I think casey inevitably has a very 'well feuding is bad and helps nobody' point of view, has expressed that before in the past, does it here again, and he's also drawn a parallel between himself and marc on several occasions. which... well, of course there's similarities in terms of public discourse or whatever, but the parallel really falls apart whenever casey argues the feuds cost valentino. like, I do think it's sometimes important to just. keep in mind. it's interesting that casey draws this comparison in his mind but that doesn't necessarily means he's right about this. I'm not sure how you'd argue that starting a feud with casey cost valentino anything competitively? you can argue it didn't help him I guess, and then we can have a debate about the ins and outs of the 2008 season. we can also have an argument that in a hypothetical world where casey isn't ill in 2009, valentino doesn't break his leg and casey isn't on a piece of junk in 2010, and valentino isn't on a piece of junk in 2011-12, then actually maybe valentino sparking open animosity with casey COULD have cost him. but we don't know that! didn't happen! I wish we could have found out, but we never got the chance! as it stands, the tally on this is pretty straightforward: casey won the title when things were reasonably civil between them in 2007, and valentino took control of the following season at the exact moment he worsened the relationship between the pair of them in 2008. obviously, it's all more complicated than that and casey would of course argue laguna didn't negatively affect his subsequent performances... but it certainly didn't help them. like, at the very worst valentino escalating tensions in 2008 is a complete net neutral. after 2009, them being bitchy to each other every other tuesday was completely competitively irrelevant beyond maybe affecting how they approached occasionally fighting for a podium position. hey, maybe casey used that feud to fire himself up through sheer spite throughout the later stages of his career, but that doesn't actually support his anti-feud stance - it's basically the exact same thing as what valentino does. they're both quite similar in that regard! always so hungry to prove a point, to show how someone else is wrong. kinda half the point with this feuding business is to get yourself going, get yourself motivated, yeah. he straight up openly admits to using yamaha's repeat rejection of him as a way of giving himself motivation, and at the end of the day that's really not all that different?

anyway, what else does casey say... oh yeah, that him and the other aliens were already kinda prepared for this and had learned vale's tricks. that valentino had only been able to get into the minds of the previous generation. welllllll *wiggles hand* sure, I mean, he did clearly have to change his approach... he couldn't just use the exact same playbook to get to them, either on-track or off-track. but that's why he did change up the playbook... again, whether you want to believe valentino won his final two titles 'in the head' rather than just through pure pace kinda depends on how you assess the evidence, but it is at the very least a debate. and, y'know, it's always worth remembering that valentino's most important mind games with casey didn't happen in a press conference... it was on the track. and the on-track stuff really is just embedded in how valentino approaches winning. speaking of aliens, this is what dani and jorge have said:

like, valentino's entire approach to his riding, even to the way he's setting his bike up, is deliberately about directly fucking with you... he's not actually always trying to be faster than you as much as he's trying to give himself the tools to make your life miserable, to pressure you into mistakes, etc etc... and again, especially with casey (if anything because he was so mentally sturdy), the off-track stuff was really just window dressing. (I know they bicker a lot after 2009 but it's just so fundamentally irrelevant to actual on-track competition.) so you can be aware of those tricks, but it also doesn't necessarily help you when someone's being nasty to you on-track in a way you just fully do not enjoy. which is what it was like for casey! for casey, a lot of this comes back to the truly unpleasant context of how he was perceived by the public, how he was treated as mentally weak or 'broken' or whatever partly because he had the misfortune of coming up against a bloke who had the reputation for breaking rivals. I think it's quite natural to end up with a bit of a hardliner 'actually I've never been mentally affected by a result in my life' stance - and of course casey is a lot tougher than a lot of people give him credit for. that being said. sometimes your rivals affect you, shit happens, it's part of the game. it's fundamentally a nice idea to think that valentino's tactics weren't just morally wrong but also ineffective, which is kind of the appeal of this narrative, right? you want to believe you're above that, you want to believe you were adequately prepared and wise to valentino's tactic. it's unsurprising and understandable that casey does tend to tell the story that way, but again it's *wiggles hand* also hard to describe it as completely factual

uh. what else. oh I'm thrilled casey does canonically know valentino and marc were friends, he has said he wasn't following motogp too much during that time period so you couldn't be sure of that. does this mean anything? does it tell you anything? well, no, but it's just a pleasing thought to me. I like that. oh also 'provoking particularly aggressive riders isn't a good idea' is kinda a funny take from casey? like, he of all people would hate the idea of being cowed by someone's reputation like that... casey's right that provoking fast riders can potentially be dangerous, but y'know I do think that's probably not news to anyone almost nine years later. um. that's all I've got I think

[cartoonghosts]

not vibing i feel like my depression has been sneaking up on me like I thought I was good for so long and this isn't even sudden and I'm genuinely considering death I don't know what's going in, I'm enjoying life and things are good but fuck I don't want to do this anymore. The trees aren't as beautiful as they used to be. I think it's ending.