#I've been talking about this thing for at least a month now I think

[lo0py-lunar]

*SLAMS HANDS ON TABLE*

ALRIGHT BITCHES LETS TALK ABOUT THE WAY SEVERUS SMELLS

While reading and writing Severus Snape fanfiction I've noticed no one has a full idea of what he smells like and honestly that is fair.

there is a tldr at the end for the people who don't want to here the rant!

I've seen a lot of people say his main scent node would be sandalwood and HONESTLYYYY I don't think that's accurate. Severus in all accounts does not take care of himself past basic hygiene niceties something like applying a cologne would not be there??

Sure there is an innate musk from his shampoo and body washes (which i think he makes himself but that's more of a doesn't want to spend money when HE HAS PERFECTLY GOOD INGRIDENTS TO MAKE WHAT HE NEEDS RIGH THERE but like i don't think he puts fragrance into them it isn't needed he just needs it to clean him not make him smell good)

SO LIKE HERE IS WHAT I DO THINK HE SMELLS LIKE IN LIKE STRONGEST TO WEAKEST??

Tea

-a self made blend of Chamomile mint and clove-

I've always head cannoned he drinks a lot of it. not because haha British but because it preoccupies him while others are talking so he can note things for future use. I think he makes his own blend because since he is constantly growing herbs and foraging it for potion making it becomes cheaper to just dry out and make your own (i also think he gifts his tea blend at yule time). I think he only makes calming teas. Being around people all the time when its very clear he doesn't want to be you need something to stay calm while there are calming droughts and other potions its widely assumed they can be addictive and yes he could probably make a non addictive version he doesn't have the time. So tea. Chamomile and mint have always been noted to calm nerves and i feel like the clove adds some spice that he enjoys.

Potions / potion ingredients

There are to many to list honestly.

Just in general you can assume the one person making potions for self research, constantly in a class teaching with varying ingredients, Brewing for The castles Medi-wing. Then in the later portion of the story TWO sides of the war. smells like a varying array of ingredients.

It could be said that the smells changes seasonally.

During the fall months he may smell more of ingredients themselves as he would've had to prep certain things that cannot be bought (or are not up to his standard at an apothecary) Yet, during the winter months when flu season is happening the lingering scent of brewed pepper up because those snot nosed kids sure as hell cant make it themselves. Spring would be whatever his classes are working on he wouldn't have time to do any research.

Summer though, Summer i think is when that smell changes the most. There are no kids he needs to brew for right away so he can focus on whatever potion he wishes to improve or outright create he can work with more dangerous ingredients.

That changes during the war of course he now has the workload from voldy and than we can assume he is at least brewing wolfsbane monthly for the order (the snupin shipper in me wishes to think he started brewing it during Remus tenure as the DADA teacher and just never stopped. he constantly badgers Remus for his new address to ensure he takes the potion to stop that daft wolf from doing anything idiotic it just becomes easier when he knows that he would be at grimmuald place) And than whatever they need for "war purposes".

Lavender

now hold on i thought you said he wouldn't use any cologne or anything like that. YES BUT i think he would use lavender in floral form or in oil for as a calming agent to sleep. I think this would've started when he was young possibly something his mother would do to soothe nightmares, (a sprig under his pillow or a dab of oil into the case itself) and he carried that on when he went to Hogwarts later when he returned to teach mentioning it in passing to Pamona and she gifts him new sprigs and oils for yule every year.

Tabaco

This one is honestly pure head cannon. But it makes sense to me he was raised in a coal town were he was constantly surrounded by booze and smokes. He would've picked up at least one of those habits and seeing his dad and the at the time normality of smoking yeah he would've done it. I think he quit for a while keep a pack tucked into his drawers in case he had a really bad teaching day and needed a hit of nicotine to make him not throttle anyone. But when both wars where happening i think he allowed himself to just smoke. Smoke when he wanted smoke to numb himself to whatever remarks were made about him at any meeting he showed too. Its a vice we all need one and i think its his.

SO YEAH.

I think he just naturally smells more floral and herbal than "woodsy" he may have a bottle or two of more masculine scents he was given from the Malfoys that he wears when forced into social events or when they are around him. But given what we know i think it wouldn't be sandalwood or driftwood whiskeys or scotch etc. (I'm also in the head cannon while he owns booze he doesn't drink often for fear of becoming his dad)

TLDR: I think Severus Snape smells mostly of Tea, Potions/Potion ingredients Lavender and Tabaco.

WHAT DO YOU ALL THINK I WOULD LOVE TO KNOW

<3

[bantersnatch]

dissecting the vip s2e11 bianca loredrop

welcome back, folks! this is a deceptive one, because on paper it's just two lines on a wikipedia page. here they are now:

the thing is, there's a lot of information compacted into those two lines. let's break 'em down together!

bianca and the host are alums of the same college. this is from the "notable alumni" section wikipedia page for the host's college (uc irvine as per s2e10), and this is definitively our bianca. these two went to school together. this is actually something i've been speculating about since the mid-season break (i talk about why in this post). this is a story, so there is no world in which this is a coincidence and they didn't know each other during their schooling -- this means the two of them go back at least a decade as of the in-world filming of season 2. "tethered" is starting to make more sense, huh? this is a long, long relationship, and it's likely that it started out as something very different than the current stepparent-stepdaughter dynamic. i'd hazard to say it's most likely that the host actually met their husband through bianca.

bianca graduated one year before the host did. i'm taking this to mean that bianca is in the class year before the host, and is roughly a year older than her stepparent. we know the host's birthday is in november, so assuming bianca didn't graduate early we're looking at an age gap of 3-15 months. absolutely beautiful stuff.

bianca's last name is jocasta. this is the big one, which is a wild thing to say after the massive reveal that these two have known each other for 10+ years. but, well -- that's just the point we're at. i've already been operating under the assumption that the 10+ years thing is true, so while it's fantastic to have confirmation i'm not overly shaken up about it. "jocasta", on the other hand? brand-new. unforeseen. unhinged. we can talk about whether this is her dad's previous surname or if she took her mom's after the divorce but i don't think any of that is too relevant to the story being told here. let's chat instead about the name itself, because holy hell is there baggage. in greek myth, jocasta was the mother-turned-incestuous bride of oedipus rex. a queen doomed by fate to marry her son, so on and so forth. absolutely classic, absolutely devastating. in freudian psychoanalysis, a 'jocasta complex' describes the erotic fixation of a mother on her child. oedipus complex but move it slightly to the left. in short: her last name is an incest reference any way you flip it.

bianca's wiki page has been viewed before. we've just "hacked into" the host's accounts, so i think it's safe to assume that the implication here is that the host has been hanging out on bianca's wikipedia page. i'm not going to offer any analysis here because you know exactly what i'm gonna say about That.

conclusion: yeah okay. i'm done playing coy about this. i've been trying to keep my biases regarding these two's backstory in the realm of fanfiction, where speculation on that level belongs, but this all essentially confirms that the show and i are on the same page. there is a romantic/sexual component to the relationship between bianca and the host, it is Weird, and it goes back at minimum ten years.

everyone strap in. i have a feeling we're in for a wild ride from now until the end of the season. we know they shot around an hour of bianca footage total (i think this was mentioned in a tamar interview with jordon brown?). they could pull just about anything.

[quintessenceofdust88]

Fuck it Friday Saturday

I was tagged by my lovely @bidisasterevankinard (Diana you're the love of my life thanks for tagging me, it makes my heart warm every time ♥) Soooo I'm kinda cheating a bit, cause I posted this as snippets of make me write, but now I've organized it into a whole thing that shall be finished and posted soon (hopefully!). It's from New Tides, ch. 1!

Buck is, there is no sugarcoating it, freaking out. 

There’s fifteen minutes left until Tommy is supposed to pick him up, and Buck still isn’t completely sure he won’t call and pretend he is sick and can’t go after all. Because he’s about to go on a date with a dude, and although that isn’t weirding him out at all (he is an ally, for Christ’s sake!), he’s so nervous it feels like his heart will fall out of his mouth. 

He’s halfway to reaching for his phone when it rings on its own, and Buck is so worried that it might be Tommy canceling on him (and despite of what he was thinking five minutes ago, he’s sure he’d be devastated if that were the case) that he doesn’t even look at the caller ID before answering. 

“Hello?!” He answers, checking his hair on the mirror for what has to be the tenth time in as many minutes.

“Stop freaking out, Buck” Maddie’s voice answers from the other side, and Buck, despite himself, feels a little calmer at hearing his older sister’s voice.

He hadn’t initially planned on telling Maddie about his date with Tommy, at least not until he was sure of what was going on. But Chim had blabbed to her about the whole ‘asking Tommy out while on painkillers’, and Buck had ended up telling her about Tommy showing up at his loft. To his relief, his sister had been completely supportive, the only teasing coming from the fact he had to be high to finally admit that guys were hot.

Right now, though, he’s extremely grateful that Maddie knows, because she’s the only person who might be able to talk him out of his mental spiraling. 

“I am not freaking out!”, Buck exclaims, but he knows there’s no fooling Maddie. “Okay, I am, but Maddie! What if this is a mistake?”

“Why would it be a mistake? Don’t you want to go out with him?”

“Of course I do! But what if I mess it up? You know that’s very likely to happen.” Buck says, pacing up and down his living room. He hears Maddie sigh very audibly on the other side. 

“Buck. Don’t let your head keep you from having something nice. Please? You deserve it after the last few months.” She says, almost pleadingly, and Buck’s heart skips a beat. 

He does deserve something nice after having his leg crushed by a firetruck, then spending his whole summer trying to get back on his job only for an embolism to ruin his plans, and then being in the middle of a literal tsunami. Tommy Kinard is the first really nice thing to happen to him in a long time, and he’s already finding a way to Buck it up. 

“You’re right”, he admits to Maddie. “I… I need to get out of my head about it. It’s just dinner, right? No big deal.”

“Definitely not a big deal”, Maddie agrees emphatically, and Buck takes a deep breath, his heartbeat slowing in his chest. “Go, have fun with your hot pilot. I love you”

“Love you too, Mads”, Buck tells her, and then they hang up. 

He’s still not totally calm, but he’s feeling better. This is something he’s always been good at; flirting, dating, getting to know someone (getting them to stay is where you run into trouble, a treacherous part of his brain tries to add, but Buck is determined to ignore it for now).

It won’t be any different just because Tommy’s a man, he reasons as he sprays on his favorite cologne. Buck still wants to flirt with him, get to know him. Definitely kiss him again. So why was he getting all nervous about it? He’s totally got this. 

There’s a knock on his door. Buck’s heart plummets all the way down to his knees. 

He doesn’t got this, in fact. But it’s too late to back out, and Tommy is waiting for him outside his door like a perfect gentleman, and Maddie raised him right. So after a deep breath and a slight wiping of his sweaty hands on his dark jeans, Buck opens the door. 

To find Tommy Kinard with an honest-to-God bouquet of sunflowers in his hand and a sheepish adorable smile on his face.

Np tagging @agentpeggycartering @laundryandtaxesworld @dum-amo-vivo9 @jamieroyjamieroy @unhingedangstaddict and whoever else would like to join! (if you want you can consider this your tag for Inspiration Saturday since Friday is over for a lot of folks already!)

[martianbugsbunny]

Hour One (A Kalluzeb Fic)

*falling down the stairs* I did it! I finished my post-Zero Hour fic, it's so tasty to me <3 I'm not even gonna ramble about it I'm just gonna get right to the fic bc I love it!!! read on and enjoy!!!

When the ship was safely in hyperspace, Kanan quietly let Kallus into a room on the Ghost that was currently deserted. Judging by the half-made bunk beds against the wall, Kallus assumed it was living quarters, but he was too distracted by the growing pain in his shoulders and ribs to try and piece together whose room it was.

“I’ll give you a minute,” Kanan said. And then Kallus was alone again, with the forgiving, kind voice of the Jedi echoing in his brain. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to be spoken to softly. He was lucky these people whom he’d hunted across the galaxy for years had even bothered to pick up his escape pod, rather than speeding away from the Imperial fleet and applying the rule of “serves him right.”

Something in him cracked. He began to sob, silently, terrified of what he had done in betraying the Empire, overwhelmed by a thousand different strident feelings he couldn’t even name. The heavy breaths hurt (every movement seemed to hurt, now that his adrenaline rush was wearing thin) and his head was pounding. Was the world really spinning, or was that just him?

At the first hiss of the door sliding open, Kallus dragged his sleeve hastily across his face to remove any tears or snot that might give away that he’d been crying—a bad decision, really, given his black eye, which stung at the rough contact.

It wasn’t Kanan who stepped into the room, slightly awkwardly and with bright green eyes that reflected back at Kallus those unnamable emotions.

It was Zeb.

Kallus took a step back, hands clenched at his sides. He knew his eyes were red and he could feel spots on his face where he had missed tears, and he hoped Zeb wouldn’t notice. He had no right to cry in front of this man, of all people.

Zeb stared at him for a moment, and Kallus could feel him mentally checking off all the things that were currently wrong on Kallus’s person. Hunched posture from his injured ribs; blotchy face; bloodstains on his uniform and dried blood on his lip.

“I brought you some clothes,” Zeb said. In the other hand he held a medkit, and Kallus realized with a sinking feeling that those supplies were for him. What a waste of resources that seemed. “They’re probably not your size, but they’re better than the Imperial things you’re wearing.”

Kallus took a breath before answering, surprised at how steady he was able to force his voice to be. “Thank you,” he said.

Then there was a horrible pause as Kallus realized he wouldn’t be able to remove his chest armor, much less his shirt, without help, and he could see the exact same knowledge dawning on Zeb’s face. “Karabast,” he said. “You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you.”

Kallus shook his head after only a brief moment of thought. He didn’t have the strength to punish himself any further. Whether or not he was worthy of Zeb’s help would have to wait until he was healed. “If you don’t mind,” he said, taking another shaky breath as he once again met Zeb’s gaze.

He didn’t look angry. He almost seemed…proud? That wasn’t right. Kallus was seeing things; his brain had been shaken up by his escape and he was imagining things that weren’t there. “I don’t,” Zeb said. He crossed the room and set the clothes down on the lower bunk. “Sit,” he said, gesturing to the empty space next to them.

Kallus did as he was told, relieved to be off his feet. The leg he’d injured on Bahryn had been hurting horribly since his fight with Thrawn, particularly his knee. He might need to consider getting a brace, he realized, if he wanted to keep fighting—which he did.

Zeb unclasped the sides of Kallus’s ISB-issued armor, dumping it on the floor. “Sabine’ll get a kick out of painting that,” Zeb said. “You can wear our colors instead of Imperial ones.” “Give it to somebody else,” Kallus said. “I don’t want it.” Zeb gave him another strange look that he couldn’t parse. “Whatever you say.” He began to work at the clasps of Kallus’s uniform shirt. They definitely wasn't built for his large, clawed fingers. “So…you’re a Rebel now,” he said. “Still think you made the right decision?”

There weren’t words to describe how firmly Kallus was convinced of it. He was terrified, staring into the face of the unknown, but he knew he’d done the right thing—he just wasn’t sure how to live with the consequences. How to build a new life for himself out of the ruins of his old one…which had been built on the ruins of so many other people’s lives.

So Kallus simply nodded, trying to keep himself from spilling any more tears. The thing that made that impossible was the gentle way Zeb worked the unclasped shirt from his torso, pulling off one sleeve and then the other, grumbling angrily in that deep, rumbling voice when he saw the bruises on Kallus’s side.

“I apologize,” Kallus said immediately, his voice stiff and cracked like old, uncared-for leather. “This isn’t fair.” Zeb helped him get his arms into the new shirt he’d brought, leaving the clasps undone; the medics would only have to undo them again later to treat his injuries properly. Then he draped a quilted jacket across Kallus’s shoulders.

“You just uprooted your entire life, Kallus,” Zeb said, sighing and adjusting a non-existent crease in the jacket. “I would think it was weird if you didn’t cry.”

“Not in front of you. You shouldn’t comfort me.” Kallus moved backwards, further into the bunk, away from Zeb’s touch. He didn’t deserve empathy and he didn’t want pity. “This shouldn’t be your problem.”

Zeb got up from the floor where he’d been kneeling and sat on the edge of the bunk, staring at the opposite wall instead of at Kallus. “Maybe not,” he agreed. “Maybe I should say it’s none of my business. Maybe I should leave you to deal with it alone. But when you worked with me on that ice moon, and saved my friends from the Empire, and fed us all that intel as Fulcrum, I think you kind of made yourself my business.” He turned back towards Kallus, his face serious, his eyes soft. “Now let me check your other injuries.”

Kallus complied, shifting closer to Zeb. Even if it didn’t sit right with him, he didn’t think he could refuse Zeb anything. He would do whatever he was asked, whatever he was told—even allow Zeb to take on some of his burden—if it would make a fraction of a difference. If it would help him so much as an inch towards making amends.

With his broad hands carefully gentle, Zeb put a few stitches in Kallus’s broken lower lip. Kallus wondered where Zeb had learned those skills; if it was gained during his time in the Honor Guard of Lasan or in the Rebellion. For a moment, he was lost in wondering, searching Zeb’s face while he was intent on his task as though he could find an answer there. He only realized Zeb had paused and asked him a question when Zeb tilted his head to the side, staring at Kallus for an answer of his own.

“Could you repeat that?”

Zeb rolled his eyes. “I said, can you see alright? That black eye doesn’t look too good.”

His eyes were dry now, but there was still a blur in the left side of his vision. “Actually, I can’t,” he said, swallowing hard. “Everything to the left is hazy.”

“It'll probably need a while to heal,” Zeb said. “If it doesn’t, we’ll get you fitted with some visual aids.” He dabbed something cold and clear on the bruised skin. “There’s nothing more I can do until we land, but you should be fine.”

The pain in his side begged to argue, and he was pretty sure that something in there was broken, but Kallus nodded. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “For everything."

How could he put that everything into words? Thank you for not killing me on Bahryn, thank you for telling me to look for the answers, thank you for believing me when I was Fulcrum, thank you for picking me up just now, thank you for tending my wounds.

He didn’t need to. The way Zeb was looking at him, he already knew.

“We have enough people on board to handle things,” Zeb said, his voice equally low. “I can stick around here for a while if you want the company.”

Kallus felt a smile tugging at the stitches on his lip. More everything to be grateful for. “Alright.”

They sat there together on the bunk for a while in silence. It was a comfortable silence, somehow, and Kallus finally began to relax, not breathing easily past the injuries to his ribs but certainly breathing more easily than before.

“You were limping,” Zeb said, breaking the quiet. “When you came on board you were limping.”

“Once you’re wounded, that body part becomes a target. It’s not so bad, now that my weight’s been off it.” Zeb leaned back against the wall. “That’s good.” He extended one arm to Kallus. “Come on, Kal. We’ve got time before we land anywhere, you can rest.”

There was a moment of hesitation, of doubt, and then Kallus allowed himself to settle next to Zeb, with a strong purple arm around his shoulders. As he started drifting off, safe for the first time in months and knowing his injuries would be cared for, Kallus thought he felt Zeb’s fingers gently rubbing across his arm, and there was a little pit of warmth in his chest that kept the cold of pain and guilt out.

[carrie-tate]

. . .

[graysongraysoff]

hard to explain how therapy makes me feel these days

[kitwilsonsass]

not to be tmi but do you ever just LOSE YOUR FUCKING MIND ON YOUR PERIOD

[stillfruit]

i love not knowing if i'll ever be healthy again i love all of the time i've used to move my body become nothing i love spending my adulthood wasting away year after year for various reasons baby!

[airenyah]

maybe i'm about to have a change of plans. maybe i won't be making my mother watch last twilight and only friends this semester break, maybe instead i'll go for a star in my mind rewatch and will also sit her down in front of mafia the series

[constellationcrowned]

((I'm actually going to post the full dialogue of Kariom talking about his parents (in that last big post I only shared the bits where he details a sense memory) because it's a; important and b; it highlights numerous things I've gone on about both here (and my og blog) at length. I'll also include a separate dialogue bit from him regarding do-de which ties in, is equally important, etc. I'll be making this post tomorrow after work~))

[maddy-ferguson]

i was so paris in the hobbit the sofa and digger stiles this week reinventing yourself is a lie i'm the same person with new people around

[fading-event-608]

Listen, I know, you all have been seeing fundraiser posts all day long. I've seen people complain that the tags for Palestine are "unusable" now because… genocide victims use it to find aid to survive.

Thing is, those posts will be here until Israel ceases it's aggression. And Palestinians will need your aid as far as they are left with no income and besieged. I've tried reaching out to other platforms, and Tumblr is still the best place for at least Falastin (Gazan who I spotlight for more than 2 months) to get donations; because here you don't need thousands of followers to get interactions. And at least we get one in ten response here; on other platforms both of us don't get any.

So yes, a dying website for fandom is her best bet to save her family right now. We don't speak of evacuation anymore (even though we hope for it), this is a battle for day-to-day survival. The prices in Gaza are increasing every hour, and they have no income and Falastin has gone into multiple debts to help them before starting the campaign in June. And yes, she receives more attention now but her family is still in starvation - she tries to support 26 people now, since her cousin was martyred and his 2 children joined 24 of her family in Al-Mawasy.

Yes, they should get free aid from all those countless non-profits that raise millions. But if they see something labelled as "aid" it is because they have bought it themselves. Yes, you can see (and maybe touch!) aid if you subject yourself to hours-long queues and/or humiliation of being a part of a photoshoot. They also said that the aid they get is stale at best and spoiled at worst; and that's again, if they get it.

Yes, there are grassroots organizations but they cannot reach everyone, because they are in small teams and they don't receive a lot of funds. And you can of course donate to them to try "fix" this; but please do not think that it means individual fundraisers are not worth supporting. I did not see any evidence of individual fundraisers "taking" money from others; on the contrary, when Falastin's fundraiser struggles, I see others struggle too. When we celebrate a good day of donations we celebrate it with others too.

And I could talk about Harris campaign get 1 billion in donations and still receiving them or how AO3 got 200k in a couple of days; but the post is getting too long.

Anyway. Please consider donating to Falastin's campaign; the money would buy food and water first, shelter and clothes for the winter second. There's a raffle for hand-made Palestinian thobe that Falastin's friend makes (LINK); and please follow her here.

Donate via Gofundme (in SEK! check rates below please): LINK

10$ = 108 SEK

25$ = 272 SEK

50$ = 544 SEK

100$ = 1,088 SEK

Donate via PayPal (in USD): LINK

Vetting info: #282 in El-Shab-Hussein and Nabulsi's spreadsheet [here], #957 in the Butterfly Project spreadsheet [here]

[bohemiandeer]

You know what hits me hard? When 5 to 6 year old children, all the way in Southeast Asia, knows about what's happening in Palestine right now. That children their age is getting bombed, that they're starving to death, that they're getting shot at, and sniped in the head. Because, just this past 2 or so months, I heard some of the little ones in the Kindergarten classes I'm TAing in as an Intern talk about it. Hell, one of the little boys downright said he didn't like Israel, because Israel is bad, because they do scary things. Another was questioning whether Palestine was bad too, because, "why else would they shooting at them?". A little girl in one of my classes doesn't want to finish her food at all, because she wants to save at least half her meat and rice for kids in Palestine, because she heard that, they don't have food. And that's just the ones I remember. Namely the inciting cases before their classmates slowly follow suit. The littles are fricking SCARED. We had to sit these kids down, and tell them that the topic is too mature for them at the moment, that they shouldn't even be concerned because they're KINDERGARTNERS, they're not even old enough to properly understand. The one teacher I was TAing for had to make a class announcement saying that. What gets me is, these are 5 to 6 year olds, the youngest I've worked with in this specific age group is 4. 5 years old on average, and they've already been exposed to the worst horrors genocide has to offer through the news and snippets of conversation among adults and hell, considering how many of them say they like to play games on Mama's phone, or their IPad, even from fricking social media. And the fact that, these literal babies, from all the way in Cambodia, has more empathy in their entire body and soul, than full grown fricking adults have in the nail of their pinky finger, gets me. FFS we as adults could LEARN from them I feel sometimes. I honestly don't know what to feel about it anymore. On the one hand, this is the next generation I'm working with. And if the next generation's default response to a tragedy such as Palestine, is what I've seen come up on occasion so far? Perhaps there's some bloody hope for this world after all. At least in this country. Especially since a majority of them already come from families who survived a genocide. These are the 3rd - 4th generation descendants of those who survived the Khmer Rouge. They've got grandparents at home, who no doubt are more than intimately familiar with what Palestine is going through right now. And it shows.

But on the other, it makes my heart sink because these are CHILDREN, these are LITTLE KIDS, they should be playing with their toys and watching cartoons and talking to their friends about everything from Spiderman to Speakerman to Kuromi and her friends, and be worried about whether or not they can go to playground that day, guranteed they're well behaved, or if Mama remembered to pack in their costume for swimming lessons that week. NOT JUST MY KIDS. But the little ones in Palestine too. They deserve better. They all deserve, so much better. Hell, it's come to the point that whenever I look at my kiddos right now, whether they'd be working in class, playing, doing something as mundane as eating lunch or getting ready for their nap. I think of the children their age in Palestine that didn't even get the chance to survive. I think of the ones whose memories from this age, is nothing but absolute horror and pain, rather than what has slowly become my normal, who never got to experience what my littles do on a daily basis right now.

Children shouldn't even be concerned about "War", about a Genocide. The last thing that should be on a 5 year old's mind, is pain, and suffering, and the worst horrors imaginable ever to be inflicted on a human being. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S INFLICTED, ON OTHER CHILDREN THEIR AGE. And for that alone, the world has failed them. Especially the kids in Palestine who didn't ask for any of this. They just wanted to carry on with life as kids do, the same way as my littles do on a daily basis no doubt, learning, playing, chatting with friends over their favourite cartoons and characters, worrying about whether they'd get to go to the playground or not that day.

I apologize for talking about this on this blog. I know my blog tends to be lighter in feel, a lot more unhinged and light hearted typically. I mean, I'm just a fricking nerd who likes to draw and write, and lurk about her favourite fandoms to consume and support what is shared among other nerds who also like to draw and write. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. About contemplating it, especially since I'll be back on a roll tomorrow, working with my kiddos again after not seeing them for 5 days straight because of Holidays. And, I just had to talk about it. This is something I felt I couldn't keep to myself this time, I don't think my soul'd be able to carry it. I had to talk about it.

FREE PALESTINE. Our children deserve better.

[inbabylontheywept]

the fine and subtle art of arguing with old men

it was a good week for testing which meant it was a slow week for me. most of my job is fixing the machine when it goes down. if it doesn't go down, i don't have much to do. 

fortunately neither did marc. in a site full of ornery old bastards, he's the oldest and the orneriest, so it goes without saying that i enjoy spending time with him. he reminds me of my grandpa. hell, he reminds me of a lot of people. i've befriended enough grumpy old men that i've got a sort of momentum to it now - you know how it is, when you meet someone that reminds you of someone else you really like. you get to start that friendship off half built, because you already have an idea of how to like that guy, and some of that old warmth can be brought to the new friendship. a little ember to start the stove up with.

(i think that's one of the really undersold beauties of getting older. you stop viewing people as strangers and more like remixes of friends.)

anyway, i was sitting next to marc and we were talking about the future. i've got my eye on having kids sometime soon (year or two? hopefully?), and he's very happy for me. i've tried asking him for advice, but all he says is that he didn't do a great job with his own kids and they still turned out okay, so i should stress less and trust myself more. i hope he's right. he believes it, at least, and it's a hell of a thing to have the faith of an old man. his faith is hard won.

as for his plans, he's retiring at some point in the next six months, and is hoping to sell his home and buy something in florida. he's republican, so he views the state as paradise, and i'm not inclined to even try talking him out of it. it's his dream, you know? i know for a fact my paradise would be a lot of people's hell. life's funny like that.

still, we kept going on, and it was a good time, and then he reminisced about the last time he got close to quitting - back around 2020. our job required getting vaxxed, and he refused, and there was a big kerfuffle about it before the job actually backed down. i know there's not a lot of sympathy for the unvaxxed out here, but the man's 62. you get the shot when you're under 30 to protect the people around you, but when you're over 60, you're just getting it to protect yourself and it's hard to be mad at someone for kicking their own ass. 

still gave me pause though. i knew he wasn't going to take it well, but half the job of collecting curmudgeons is keeping them around, so i said 

hey. i'm sorry they bent your arm over it, but.

but. 

you should really get that shot. 

and he looked over at me, and i looked at him, and he actually spat. not on me, just the concrete, but it was enough to show that he was mad. then he walked away, as abrupt as anything.

i felt bad about it. i wasn't sure what i'd expected, when he was willing to lose his job over it before, but i'd been so invested in his dream of retirement - the idea of him sipping margaritias on a beach next to his wife, the wife he calls every day during lunch, the wife he says is the one thing in life he ever got right on the first try. the wife that almost divorced him back when he was in the airforce because he just wasn't home enough. 

(but he can be home now.) 

and then he mentioned the vax thing, and it was like seeing a pin hit a balloon. he works out every day and takes all sorts of crazy vitamins and is generally committed to getting the most out of his pension and his life. i didn't want this dumb weak point to be his achilles heel. 

---

i wasn't actually sure how long marc would be mad at me. i've seen him stay mad at some people for weeks. i wasn't sure if being friends would make that time go up or down. 

it went down. i'm glad it went down. 

he stopped being mad about two days later. we were doing front end maintenance one morning, and it was just that simple mechanical rhythm - hex key, replace the anode sheets, punch some off-gassing holes, oil it up, put it back in - that put things at ease. it always does. people working there are too busy to remember grudges, and it has this sort of mandatory practical communication that helps smooth things over. it was going great, and then out of the blue he said babs, you gotta be careful giving advice. those shots come with complications. what would you do if i got that shot, had a stroke, and died? 

and i don't know what answer he was expecting, but i just told him the truth, which is that i would be devastated. i'd feel like i killed him. i thought that was a pretty normal response, but he looked taken aback. he asked why i said it then, and i said i'd have felt the same if he died of covid. that's just life. sometimes, there's no way forward that doesn't risk some kind of regret. 

we finished the tube after that, in a silence that felt heavier than peace but lighter than anger. it felt like the ball was back in marc's court. like it would be rude to take that turn from him. 

we parted ways with a nod and didn't speak until the next day. 

---

i was doing spreadsheet work when he found me again. standard paper engineering - thinking of things we might need and ordering them in batches, months ahead of time. it always feels a little like plugging holes in a dam with my fingers. 

but he popped up, and we didn't even exchange pleasantries. he just said i'm gonna die one day, and you can't blame yourself for that. 

which is a hell of a thing to just tell someone right off the bat. 

so i said what 

and he said babs, i am in my 60s. something is gonna get me eventually, and whether it's covid or heart disease, or a stroke, there will be something you could have said or done before. and that's okay. it's not your job to make me live forever. 

and you know, he actually made a lot of sense. so i said 

okay. 

i'll keep your business yours. i just

you were talking about your retirement before this. and i want that for you very much. you've worked hard for 45 years, and you deserve a break. we're getting to sick season, and it would be the saddest fucking thing in the world if you got this close to winning the race then tripped in the last ten feet. 

and we sat there a few moments longer. i wasn't sure what to say, and i wasn't sure what he'd say, but eventually he just shrugged and said

yeah 

then he left. i figured that would be the end of it. 

---

i did front end maintenance yesterday, after being gone a week. it's one of my favorite things to do. i like working with my hands. i really like working with my hands. i'm glad i went to college, but in a different life, i think i could've made a better electrician than an electrical engineer. 

and at one step, when we were both hoisting the plate back onto the machine, his sleeve rode up, and i saw two bandaids on his arm. 

we finished the install, and i was ready to go back when marc actually stopped me. 

i got the shot, he said, almost embarrassed. like he'd been caught. and i knew he was gonna say something dumb about it, so i just cut him off by giving him a hug. 

i was relieved. hugging old men is kind of like picking up cats. if they like you a lot, they'll tolerate it, but that's about it. we sat there maybe three beats before his hands went up, and then he gave me one overly-hard thump on the back. in my experience, this is how old men tell you that they're done, so i let him go.

carla talked me into it, he said, almost defensive. his wife. his one good decision.

tell her i said thanks, i said back.

trump got the shot too, he said, less defensive, but oddly pleading. like he was consoling himself.

like he was nervous.

then it's gotta be safe, i said, and he looked up at me, strangely searching, strangely vulnerable. i don't know exactly what he was looking for, but i guess he found it because after a few moments his shoulders relaxed.

yeah, he said, one hand on the back of his head.

it's gotta be.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

So Obviously In Love

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: a little bit of smut

Lando knew he was in love with you for a very long time. It didn't even take him long to admit it to himself, but to you?

It took him ages.

One of the problems was that your last name was Fewtrell and that pretty much explains it all.

But even though it took him a long time to tell you outright that he was madly in love with you, he didn't try to hide it much. In fact, he was too obvious with his actions.

Besides the fact that he started spending more time with you than with your brother, or his best friend to be exact, a lot of big little things happened that gave him away.

Like that one time he called you for the first time to check if you got home safely.

You just got back from Lando's after spending almost the entire afternoon at his place and you're pretty tired, ready for bed. Your eyes are slowly closing, but you know you still have to take a shower, so you decide not to procrastinate and get to work. Just as you were about to leave your phone on the kitchen counter and head for the bathroom, it starts buzzing in your hands. Caller ID showing Lan. You must have forgotten something at his apartment, you think to yourself because it wouldn't be the first time. "What did I leave now?" You sigh answering the phone. "Nothing this time, don't worry." He chuckles. "What's up then?" You ask, a little confused considering you were together just half an hour ago. "Just wanted to make sure you got home safely" He says. "I know you said you were tired and you wouldn't let me drive you." Your heart warms at his caring words and you find yourself smiling as you fiddle with the car keys. "Safe and sound, Lan" "Good, good." He really doesn't want to end the conversation, but he knows you just got back from him, so he pauses for a second before continuing. "Alright, well, I'll talk to you in the morning then. Sleep tight." "You too, Lan. Good night.”

Or the way he gives you the last bite even though it's his cheat day

Lando is always on a special, healthy and clean eating regimen because his job simply requires it. Every now and then, once a month, he lets off steam and eats whatever his heart desires. Today was one of those days. Lando had been talking about burgers all week. He was craving a big, fat burger with lots of fries on the side. He was standing behind the kitchen island finishing his burger when you entered the kitchen. "Whatcha doin'?" You asked hopping onto the kitchen island, your eyes following the last bits of the burger. He didn't say anything, not wanting to speak with his mouth full, he just pointed to the burger and made the most satisfying face ever. "Ugh, it looks so good..I've been so hungry all day, I've been going full vacuum mode on everything edible.." You whined putting your hand over your tummy. "Are you pms-ing?" Lando asked and you nodded frowning. "Here, you can finish it if you want to." He offered without much hesitation. "No, you finish it, it's your cheat day. I’ve already eaten way too much today, one more bite and I might explode." "No, come on. I want you to have it. I'm already full anyway." He lied. He could have eaten at least one more burger like that. "But it's your last bite..the best one" You said as he put it into your hands.

He took a kitchen towel and wiped his mouth with it before grabbing his bottle of water and heading back towards the gaming room.

"There's some more junk food and pistachio ice cream in the fridge. Take that with you when you go home."

Or that one time everyone went crazy when Lando's hand wandered onto your thigh on the stream.

When they heard that you were also there, in Lando's apartment, the fans shifted all their attention from him to you. They were calling your name in the chat and pestering Lando to get you on camera. He actually secretly loved the way his fans loved you. "Y/n?" He shouted taking the headphones off. "Yeah?" You shouted back from his living room. "Could you come here for a sec, please?" He asked and soon you appeared walking into the room. "Chat really wants to say hi to you." "Oh, hi guys. How are you?" You smiled as you leaned forward slightly to see what they were typing. Lando’s gaze softened looking at you interacting with them. His smile only grew bigger as he started to read the compliments and funny things they were saying to you. Lost in the moment, Lando got carried away reading the comments and unconsciously placed his hand on the back of your thigh, gently squeezing it. Of course, it took the chat a full two seconds to notice it and go crazy over it. "Okay, that's enough of y/n for you for today." Lando quickly removed his hand and changed the subject, thinking you hadn't noticed the placement of it. But of course you did.

You hated skiing. You hated it because you didn't know how to ski. You tried, but it was a complete, almost fatal, disaster, to say the least. Every time Lando and Max went skiing, you wouldn't go with them, and seeing how dangerous it could be for you, you didn't even have the desire to learn.

But that one time, Lando did everything he could to convince you to go with them. He succeeded, by the way. He even managed to convince you that you didn't need an instructor, but that he would teach you how to ski, using it as an excuse to be as close to you as possible.

"If I break my leg you'll be the one to blame just so you know." You whine while trying to get your foot into the ski boot. "Y/n, stop grumbling and push your foot a little harder." Lando said trying to help you put your boot on. "I c-can't, it's too freaking tight-ugh!" "Take me by the shoulders and just stand up and your foot will fit inside." You put your hands on his shoulders and just as you were about to do what he told you, something suddenly took hold of you and you burst out laughing. This whole situation was becoming too ridiculous for you, the way you were struggling with those stupid boots and the excessive amount of clothes that restricted your movement, you felt as if you were about to go crazy. "Y/n, get serious, come on." Lando warned you while still holding onto your boot, but he couldn't help but start laughing at you too. You leaned towards him, still laughing like a madman, resting your forehead on his shoulder trying to calm yourself. Lando turned his face towards yours, the tip of his nose brushing against your cheek as his eyes darted to your lips. "Alright, that’s enough, you muppet! Let's get that boot on your foot before night falls." When it was time to take the T-bar lift uphill, you froze. It seemed so simple watching others do it with ease, but you just didn't feel confident enough to do it by yourself. "Lando, I can't do it on my own..I'm afraid I'll fall and-" You panicked when it was your turn. "Hey, hey, hey it's okay. I'll do it with you." He took the bar in his hands and placed it between the two of you behind your legs. As the T-bar lift jerked forward, you grabbed on, holding for dear life, hoping you wouldn’t faceplant halfway up the slope. Lando noticed and chuckled wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer to him so you feel safer. "It's okay, I got you. Just trust me"

And finally that time after he had already confessed to you that he fell for you, you came to his place and thought you would talk about how nothing could happen between you because of Max.

But that didn't go the way you planned it.

You thought about having a conversation with him, but halfway through he started unbuttoning your shirt slowly nodding his head and pretending to listen to you. "Lan..I'm serious and you're n-not listening.." You struggled to pronounce without moaning. "I'm listening, keep talking" He quietly urged you to continue as he started kissing your neck. His hands wandering beneath your shirt making your head fall back. Your concentration was long gone when his fingers found your zipper. "Lando..." You whimper as his fingers move your panties to the side. "What, baby? Want me to stop?" "No, please, don't stop"

Lando could never resist you. He's always been so obviously, madly, deeply in love with you.