#This was actually cathartic

[bunnieswithknives]

Thanks.

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[sparsilees]

tom riddle is a yapper. he loves his monologues and dramatics.

draco malfoy is a yapper. he, too, loves the sound of his voice and dramatics.

ron weasley has no qualms about being loud and seen. he grew up in a large household, fighting to be heard over his siblings.

harry potter grew up in a cupboard, friendless except for the spiders, and learned to subdue and suppress and submit at the dursleys. he isn’t loud, he isn’t boisterous, he isn’t talkative, he doesn’t like socialising, he keeps his opinions in his head and his feelings buried inside, he has very few close friends, he doesn’t reveal his worries and struggles easily, he dislikes showing his pain and weakness, and he sure doesn’t give up his secrets and personal details freely, sometimes not even to ron and hermione.

this is what canon harry’s like—very quiet and an introvert, someone who speaks when spoken to or has cause to broadcast his voice, and someone who��d rather blend into the walls than draw unnecessary attention to himself.

[atlas-hope]

we are going through it fellas

[evie-doesnt-write]

I don’t know how to say this exactly but like… fandom and show are kinda weird about Mel and Ekko and it is very much rooted in racism

[starry-bi-sky]

The first time disciple Shen Yuan/Shen Qingqiu meets Liu Qingge, it is during a Bai Zhan peak raid. And what ends up happening is that Shen Qingqiu gets kicked in the jaw with such force he feels his teeth clack together unpleasantly. And frustrated with his situation, the system, and quite frankly a ton of other little things that have been building up over the course of the last few weeks, he feels something snap in the back of his mind like that of a rubber band after being stretched too far.

What ends up happening is that Shen Qingqiu turns and locks onto the very first figure he can see that is dressed in grey-and-white like a homing missile, and then with the force of a twin-tailed mountain tiger, lunges towards said figure with an equally menacing snarl.

He ends up taking the Bai Zhan peak disciple by utter surprise, and they both collide into the ground in a tangle of angry yelling and limbs. What ends up happening is that Liu Qingge gets the subsequent wind knocked out of him and pinned into the dirt by a Qing Jing peak disciple who is filled with the might and fury of a scholar having their peaceful afternoon interrupted and a once-grown-man re-experiencing puberty.

It is with that might and fury that Liu Qingge meets the wild, frenzied eyes of Shen Qingqiu, with his lips pulled back into a truly ferocious scowl. Shen Qingqiu hisses out, with such force it makes his voice rasp, as if he might as well sink his teeth into Liu Qingge's throat and rip it out; "Get the fuck off my mountain."

Liu Qingge is so shocked by -- well, quite a many things, but most importantly the fact that he has been pinned, and the way the sun is bouncing off this boy's face, -- that his brain needs five seconds to reboot. It's five seconds too long, because by the time he registers what just happened, Shen Yuan has clambered off him and disappeared. Gone and thrown himself into the closest dust cloud scuffling in order to unleash the rest of his fury on the other Bai Zhan Peak kids.

Qing Jing Peak experiences an unfortunate uptick in Bai Zhan disciple visits -- specifically of the Liu Qingge variety. Specifically Liu Qingge, actually. Who very much wants to find the boy that managed to get one over on him and demand a rematch. (Or maybe kiss him.)

[rhythmmortis]

GET SPUN, IDIOT

[icarusofmine]

he was my north, my south, my east and west my working week and my sunday rest my midnight, my noon, my talk, my song i thought love would last forever: i was wrong

-w.h. auden

[bucksboobs]

And this isn’t new to 911 obviously because as long as I’ve been in fandom (12 years) the loudest voices in most of them have been people that love gay ships but don’t quite see gay men as people, much less people that could be in the fandom. And it’s been dressed up a lot of ways: making one side of the m/m ship more feminine the other more masculine, fanon characterizations that basically turn one of the men into a gender neutral at best self insert for the fandom, self-lubricating rectums becoming a genre in and of itself, outright apathy towards canon gay characters in favor of the fandom-dominant ship that better fit the “Destiel Formula,” etc but it all came back to the same underlying issue: a significant portion of fandom doesn’t view gay men in anything but the abstract, as LEGO bricks to be reassembled at will to better suit their whims or as dolls to smash together.

At the end of the day, every problem I have with fandom seems to come back to the knowledge that some of them don’t see me as a gay man as a person, but as fic trope. And that’s exhausting.

[lgbtlunaverse]

It's quite interesting how in the realm of "Crimes Jin Guangyao may or may not possibly have comitted" I have zero issue with assuming he may, in fact, have killed a-song and think it's really interesting to explore the various possbile scenarios, but if you so much as suggest to me that he killed Qin Su I'll bite you.

And I think it comes down to the fact that this... isn't really about my opinion of him. Regardless of whether he did either of these things two facts remain true 1) I like him as a character and 2) he's done some truly horrible things. Including child murder!! Those Tingshan He kids are still super dead! I don't need him to be innocent of these few specific crimes to like him, because its not like he'll suddenly become my unproblematic innocent fave. It's actually quite central to my enjoyment of him as a character that he's a man pushed to his utter limits, someone who does horrible things within circumstances so bad that even as they condemn him no other character can give him a clear answer on what else he should have done except just... die.

No, my insistence that Qin Su killed herself is all about her. In the precious little spotlight the narrative gives her, she's defined by how little agency she gets to have in anything. Everyone who knows the truth of her parentage decides to leave her out of it. She doesn't get to know the truth about husband, so she doesn't get to weigh a sham incest mariage against being a disgraced unwed mother (It's a choice with no great options, but it's a choice she should've gotten a fucking say in!) she doesn't get to know the truth about her son, so doesn't get a choice in whether she wants to bear him. He's killed regardless, years later, and she doesn't get a say in that either. And when she asks her husband after finally finding out some of the truth hidden from her he refuses to give her a clear answer (pro tip, jiggy: "he NEEDED to die, I totally didn't kill him tho" is about the most suspicious answer you could give)

I need this woman to have made one decision in her life, even if it was the decision to end it. Is that a great choice? No, but everyone in Qin Su's life has deprived her of any choices in fear she'd make a bad one so I think we don't get to judge her, actually.

[uruhasbubble-tea]

so one day curiosity got the better of me and i wondered what it's like to hear Fall For Me with raw clean vocals, without vocoder,

and it's just as beautiful

and here's the backing vocals, which you should definitely listen to as well.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

"Well someone's home early." Darry ruffles Pony's hair as he tries to slip past him 'n into the hall. Pony ducks under his hand, makes a small noise in hello. Darry immediately straightens up, notes the lack of work shirt he left with this mornin'. "Ponyboy Michael back it up 'n bring it here."

Pony lets out a long groan but turns 'n trudges back. Darry rakes his eyes over him. Pony stares at the ground. "Why are you back so early?"

"'Cause I got fired ok! Jesus!" Pony throws his arms up, stomps the ground, 'n whips his head to look back at his older brother.

"You what?" Pony lets out a huff 'n quick smart Darry's hand flies up to cuff him around the ear. "Pony this is the fourth time what the hell happened? And let me tell you it better be a damn good reason."

Pony can only match Darry's glare for a moment before he drops back down to starin' at the carpet. "I kinda called a customer a bitch."

"You huh?"

"Look, Darry, you weren't there so lay off, ok! She was talkin' to me like a was trash, alright? I dunno. She was actin' like I was stupid 'n she called me a son of a bitch 'n I told her I wasn't her damn son last I checked." Pony hitches his shoulder 'n Darry is suddenly glad Pony's scowlin' down at the carpet by the way his lips twitch. It wasn't funny.

"Ponyboy Michael since when has it ever been ok in this house to call a woman that?"

"Since she deserved it real bad." Pony mutters 'n Darry's fingers catch his temple. "Ow."

"I outta skin you just for that."

"Aw, Dar, look. I'm sorry, ok? I ain't discriminatin' or nothin'. If she'd have been a guy he would have been actin' like a bitch too." Pony scuffs his toe on the floor 'n Darry shakes his head in bewilderment.

Glory, sometimes Pony would say somethin' 'n it would make Darry feel like he was twenty 'n Pony was fourteen again 'n Pony's moods were enough to make him want to put the kid's head through a wall. 'N then he'd blink 'n they were sixteen 'n ten 'n he actually would. But that one hurts a bit 'cause then they had someone to holler 'n make them make up.

"Pony, how old are you?" Pony rolls his eyes, already knows Darry's line.

"Too old?" Pony glances up 'n Darry arranges his features into a passable impression of their ma's does it look like I'm laughin', mister? glare.

"Too damn old." Darry nods firmly. "You're sixteen now, Pone. You need to get a hold of that mouth. How many times are we gonna have to have this conversation?"

"Too damn many times- yeouch!" Darry's palm clips the back of his head 'n Pony's hair falls into his eyes.

"Don't you go gettin' fresh with me lil' boy." Pony's dry humor suddenly falls away 'n he's spittin' mad.

"Darry, you wouldn't get it, alright? I'm sick of workin' for a bunch of assholes who treat me like shit 'n takin' bull all day from people who look at me like I was born to spit shine their shoes. You just don't get it." Darry sighs, rubs a hand over his eyes.

"Pony, c'mere." This has become their routine. Back 'n forth, stern, sarcastic, angry, tired. Pony seethes but allows Darry to push him to drop down into one of their kitchen chairs. "I wouldn't understand, kid? I've been bustin' my back since you were twelve on the roofs of people who think greasers were born to bag their groceries 'n clean their floors. If anyone gets it, Pone, I do."

Some of the tension drops out of Pony's shoulders 'n he worries at his lip.

"You think Soda likes havin' to work on the cars or people who treated him like a failure 'n a dead-end dropout when he quit school?" Pony winces but Darry is damn tired of havin' to chase the kid around his own self-righteousness so he drives the lesson home with, "Do you think Dad liked patchin' up shingles from dawn til dusk? Or ma washin' the clothes of the women she used to meet after school who married up 'n moved west 'n forgot all it took was a bit of bad luck to end up right back on the East side? Sometimes the world ain't fair, Pone. Don't mean you get to lose your temper every time someone gets your goat."

The angers dropped right out of Pony 'n Darry sighs, pulls his chair so the kid can lean against his chest. He does without hesitation.

"I'm sorry, Dar. Sometimes... I dunno. It ain't fair. You're ten times the person those assholes in their fancy houses will ever be. Soda don't deserve to be treated like he's stupid. I just... I dunno. How do you deal with it?" Pony pulls his head back, blinks up at him with those green eyes that look like the sea after a storm's rolled through.

"Y'know... back when I first started workin' with Dad, a thousand years ago," Pony snorts, "I was mad about that all the time. God, I couldn't stand the way they looked at him. The way they talked about us. I didn't know how the hell he did it." Darry strokes his hand absent-mindedly through Pony's hair 'n he presses closer to him.

"It was just too much for me one day. We were behind schedule 'n behind on men 'n the guy who had hired us was hollerin' his head off 'n I turned right around 'n socked him right in his nose." Pony sits back suddenly, eyes round in surprise.

"You?" Darry chuckles, brushes Pony's bangs off his face.

"Yeah, kid, I don't know why you're so shocked. We've had enough fights to last a lifetime." Pony rolls his eyes, shifts around in his chair.

"I guess, I dunno. You always have it so locked down."

"Yeah, well, I do now. But it took a lot of time. Glory, maybe you were too young to remember properly but I swear sometimes I turn around 'n it's like dealin' with a younger me." Darry snorts at a memory 'n Pony raises an eyebrow. "I remember one time ma had gotten so sick of me 'n she told me she hoped one day I had a kid just like how I was to give me the same grief. Glory, I think she'd be laughin' now."

Pony's smile is a little wet but it's there 'n Darry won't mention it as long as Pony doesn't point out Darry wipin' at his eyes with the back of his sleeves. "What did Dad do? When you punched that guy?"

"Well, he was plenty mad. He sat me down 'n I told him it was unfair that we had to take whatever kinda treatment they decided to give us. 'N he grabbed me by the shoulders 'n looked at me like he always did when he was real serious 'n he said Darrel you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."

Pony's face twists up in confusion 'n Darry laughs. God, he could look straight back through the years 'n picture himself starin' up at their dad the same way. "What does that have to do with anythin'?"

"I'll tell ya, kid. He dragged me back in the next day 'n made me apologize 'n then he shook the man's hand 'n left him with this sticky sweet smile 'n promise that he was real sorry for me 'n my behavior. Then he hauled me up a ladder 'n showed me how he would repair the man's roof so it would hold for another six months. Exactly. 'N when we left he shook hands 'n left him his card with the offer to come back if anythin' else ever went wrong. 'N you know what? The man was so impressed with his attitude 'n his work when that roof went up again in six months he called dad right back."

Darry chuckles 'n refocuses on Pony whose jaw is damn near on the floor. "That true?"

"Now, don't go makin' a liar out of me. Every word."

"Shit. You know? That sounds just like Dad."

"And he was right. Look, it sucks kid. It does. People are never gonna look at you like they should. There are always gonna be assholes who think they're better than you. You keep your damn head up 'n it doesn't matter at all. You fix the roof. 'N if it leaks you make sure you make yourself a lastin' impression."

Pony bites his lip, plays with the bottom of his shirt. It takes another minute but he nods, shoots Darry a lil' grin. "You know, I'm sure I left an impression."

"Yeah, like the type of impression I'm about to leave on your ass, kid." Pony yowls indignantly 'n dives off his chair to get away from Darry's snatch. Darry doesn't go for him again, settlin' for rollin' his eyes 'n not meanin' it at all.

"Hey, Dar?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"I'm gonna go back to the store tomorrow 'n ask for my job back. D'you mind... vouchin' for me?" Darry studies him for a moment. Pony's heart always was too big. The unfairness would always hurt. But the kid would figure out how to muddle by. Darry had.

"Sure, Pone. Just this time? Don't go ruinin' my reputation by callin' no one a bitch." Pony grins 'n opens his mouth. Darry cuts him off with a pointed finger 'n a raised brow. "Even if they deserve it real bad."

[authenticcadence18]

yall ever think about Candace and Isabella bonding over how Phineas has hurt them?

Think about it.

Candace Against the Universe explores Candace’s self esteem struggles in regards to her brothers extensively. Phineas never means to hurt Candace, but simply by way of accomplishing more than she thinks she ever could, he makes her feel inadequate, defeated, alone. He quite literally has innate good luck whereas Candace has bad luck and it’s very rare we see him actually acknowledge this.

Isabella, on the other hand, is hurt by Phineas’s actions AND his inaction. His inconsistency. Him pulling out all the stops for her one day and barely noticing her and her attempts at quality time the next (primarily in seasons 1-3). She gives so much to him, but because he’s spread so thin he can never give that much back.

And this isn’t to say Phineas has done anything wrong! no one is wrong feelings are messy. and he’s just a kid living his best life. but I love the thought of Candace and Isa bonding over this, I don’t know if anyone else could understand their feelings.

Phineas has hurt both of them unintentionally, without even meaning to. He loves them and yet he doesn’t always take the time to consider them the way they do for him. When you’re larger than life, you hurt the people closest to you. they can’t escape your shadow.

They’re angry at someone who, by all accounts, hasn’t done anything wrong. That’s a complicated place to be. heck Kevin from H&G can join their club too and talk about Gretel haha!

[blitzwhore]

Stolitz, and their fear of rejection and sense of worthlessness turning into a self-fulfilled prophecy.

Blitz—

Does anybody love you, Blitzo? / No.

Eventually everyone goes...

Stolas only cares about having a rugged peasant raw-dog him into his mattress. It's nothing... You know. It's nothing else.

I'm going to die alone, aren't I? Just a wrinkly, old, withered waste.

Royal demons don't give a shit about guys like us. They're all the fucking same.

Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything but you wanting me to fuck you. You make that really clear all the time.

But you don't want to do things alone, Blitzo.

I mean, Stolas is just a loud, thirsty bitch who loves feeling the thrill of being dicked by the lower class. It's a novelty to him.

And then he'll call me and try to see how my day was, and he'll pretend to care about me, and comment on my photos, and laugh at my jokes... /Oh well that's definitely your clue right there that it's all bullshit / I know, right?!

It's all my fault. I'd hate me too. I mean, I do hate—

You're going to die alone. You're gonna die alone, Blitzo.

[My worst fear has come true. He couldn't possibly want me. This has to be a joke. He's selfish and an asshole, just like the rest of them. He's trying to get rid of me; that's the only explanation. I'm just a broken toy he's finally gotten bored of, just like I knew would happen. He won't even fight for me, and why would he? I could never be good enough for him. It's happening again. I'm being abandoned by someone I care about. I really am going to die alone.]

Stolas—

Would he want me if he was free? And if he's only here as a prisoner, what kind of monster does that make me?

I mite b bsuy / I wouldn't want to bother you!

You see... I seem to have found myself with, um. Feelings for him. And I'm not sure if it's a mutual thing.

Dearest, I know better now, I must give you this choice.

I'll save us both before we grow cold.

What's between you and I? Just a comfortable lie.

I'm sorry it's a bad time yet again, Blitzy...

He deserves the choice to stay or go.

So I'll grant you this mercy, this bind on our souls needs to end...

Next time you come over, maybe we can talk about what happened at Ozzie's? / Y? / I'm sorry! Nevermind, it's not a big deal.

What's left for me and my broken heart if I cannot have you? Unless it's me, and no matter what in this world I could give, it's not enough to get through the walls you've conjured up to live...

I'll believe him, and not the voice that says I'm not enough.

I'll fucking die alone if this goes bad!

[My worst fear has come true. I truly am not worthy of being loved. He's rejecting me— no, mocking me for even thinking he could ever want to be with me if he didn't need my book. I've been taking advantage of him all this time, all the while believing we had something real and being naive enough to think he could love me back. I am a monster. And now that he can, he has chosen to leave me. So now the least I can do is quietly let him—the only person I have ever wanted and felt alive with—go. I really am going to die alone.]

[overtake]

Trying to do something resembling coping after Singapore. Have some Max/Daniel hurt/comfort (1.3k). Also on ao3 if you prefer.

The press of a button freezes Max’s watery blue eyes, the space between them bifurcated by the crease in his forehead.

“Is now really a moment to remember?” Max asks in a raspy voice. His throat isn’t clogged by tears, but there’s almost a decades worth of race starts together sitting uncomfortably in there and congesting each word.

His hand hasn’t strayed from Daniel since he found him after the race. It’s somewhere on some part of him every time he’s close enough to touch.

Normally he’s halfway home by this point, Air Max somewhere over the circuit skies and headed back toward home.

He’s stayed, this time, in case this is it. In case this is his last chance to neatly fold Daniel’s clothes into his bag, even though his own are always wrinkled under pairs of stained shoes and dirty briefs. In case this is the last time they both exit the paddock as drivers. In case this is the final chance Max has to trace the shape of Daniel’s jawline and tell him, “Good race.”

Daniel’s mum is giving them a last minute alone. She’s standing guarding outside the door and leaving them be for now. Daniel knows, though, that when they stand, she’ll hug Daniel close, wishing he was little enough to hide in the crook of her neck while she covers all his gaping wounds with plasters and a kiss on each one to ease the ache. 

Despite his complaints about the camera, Max still moves from where he’s crouched in front of Daniel to collapse into his side and observe the photo. He wraps one arm around Daniel’s back to tug him impossibly closer and rests his mouth on the top of Daniel’s shoulder in an exhausted kind of kiss.

“I look like shit,” he says, statement muffled by the fabric of Daniel’s shirt. He sounds like he wants to poke fun at himself until he makes Daniel laugh, but they’re both too hollowed out to muster up the energy. Instead, Max reaches out and turns off the display.

For a second, their fingers linger together on the camera’s body, until Daniel lets the camera drop back against his chest so he can entangle their hands instead.

“It’s not a nice memory,” Daniel agrees. Unlike Max, his voice right now can all be attributed to tears. “But in December, no matter what happens after today, I’ll get a retake on the farm. I’ll be happy, and we’ll be together, and life will go on from now.”

Daniel feels the dampness on his shoulder when a single tear breaks containment, then another, and a shuddering breath, until Max rights himself and pointedly looks away from the tiny patch soaked in cotton.

“It’s not fair,” he says tightly. For a second, he sounds every bit the bullish teenager with a black and white view on the way the world ought to work and bitter frustration that sometimes reality dapples in nuance. It’s the first thing to get Daniel anywhere within city limits of smiling since he set the lap record and gave himself a final moment in the car to reflect on everything this sport had given him, and that he had given this sport.

“Yeah,” he agrees hoarsely. “It’s not fucking fair.”

He’s done with excuses and niceties and dancing on the Red Bull puppet strings in hopes that playing their game might finally net him a seat he’d killed himself to earn. It’s not fair. It’s callous and cruel, the way they’ve strung him and everyone who loves him along for a race they aren’t even brave enough to tell him is his last.

They’re silent for another moment. Daniel closes his eyes and soaks it in: the tendrils of freshly washed hair still trailing water down his spine. The din of dog-tired employees breaking down the paddock, to be quickly vanished away as if it was never here. The ragged in-and-out of Max’s lungs as he tries to coax both of their breaths into something resembling normal.

“Thank you, by the way,” Max says softly. “And congratulations on your lap record.”

“You owe me a really nice Christmas present.”

Max presses a whisper of a kiss over Daniel’s drying curls. “You always deserve the nicest presents.”

Daniel’s mum slips in then, gently shutting the door behind her. Unlike Max, she’s made no secret of her tears. Her eyes are red-rimmed, but she musters up enough of a smile when Daniel heaves himself up into her arms.

“Come here, Max,” he hears his mum scold. A second later, Max is in an awkward three-person hug. Grace’s short arms struggle to embrace them both, but smelling her vanilla perfume and knowing she’s there is enough to surround him in all the ways that matter.

She whispers in turn to each of them, but they’re all so tightly wound, they can all hear every word.

“Thank you for being here every time I couldn’t be,” she tells Max. He murmurs something back, but he manages to keep it quiet enough that Daniel can’t make out all his words. It’s something about thanking her for trusting him with Daniel, but the rest is lost. All he knows is that his mum’s tears start flowing again.

When it’s his turn, she can barely choke out the words. “I’m so proud of you. For your career, of course, but for who you’ve grown into. I couldn’t have asked for a better son.”

“I love you,” is all Daniel manages. He buries the nose shaped like hers into the brown curls that his genes copy-pasted and soaks in gratitude that he has both her face and her endless capacity to love.

Daniel walks into humid night air with his head held high and a career most drivers would kill for, surrounded by people who love him for more than that list of achievements, and knows that he’ll survive whatever comes next.

“That’s a terrible photo,” Max complains three months later. His eyes are scrunched up all cute in it, framed by long lashes and sun-soaked freckles that are almost hidden by the streaks of dirt on his face. He’s smiling, both in the picture and right now, so Daniel knows he doesn’t actually mind.

Two weeks of busy Australian summer have left Max various shades of pink and tan. He'd somewhat learned how to use the grill that Daniel was too scared to touch and now had matching grill aprons with Daniel's dad. He christened the new baby cow the wholly uncreative name ‘Lilly’, because god forbid any animal in his vicinity not be named after Monaco nightlife. He’d also 100% taken to the dirt bikes as easily as everyone would assume and had absolutely, definitely not sworn Daniel to secrecy about where he got that giant bruise on his side after their first go.

When Daniel transfers the photos to his computer later, his finger pauses on the photo captured in a melancholic driver’s room. In it, Max’s eyes are dull and weary, but they’re looking at Daniel with the same unblinking love from today’s picture.

It’s proof, memorialized in expensive pixels, that Daniel’s life did not end on the streets of Singapore; that his worth to the world never depended on his points or podiums.

He closes the lid of his laptop and joins the gathering in the living room. Max is pouring fake tea for Isabella’s dolls. Isaac is politely sipping an empty teacup, one pinky in the air. Isabella is nowhere to be found, probably busy dragging Daniel’s poor parents to see Lilly the cow for the fifth time today.

“Daniel!” Max says, in the sweet, distinct way his mouth always forms the name. His face brightens when Daniel walks in. When Max smiles like that, it’s as if the sun has come through the roof and taken human form in broad shoulders and rumpled t-shirts.

“Max!” Daniel says back, matching his enthusiastic tone. He sits cross-legged in Isabella’s empty spot and slides his fingers between Max’s.

The tea party continues, and life moves forward.

[missingn000]

hey all! i wrote a what-if character study & action fic for if king fought sanji instead of zoro during the raid on onigashima. i'd really love if you gave it a read! thanks so much!

link

playlist

happy reading!

[kori-senpai]

New Leokumi content in the lords year of 2024?? It's more likely than you think! (x)