#You don't have to drill me

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

Y'all are really insane about my therapist escapades 😭😭😭

[lost-in-fandoms]

Inspired by this post. This is most probably a part 1, but I make no promises. (I already wrote something for it here but I am considering this a different universe)

cw: slight dub-con of the heat variety (Max is in heat and not fully coherent even if he does explicitly ask for Daniel's help), implied sexual content

Keening

"It's okay, Max, it's okay." Daniel shushes Max softly, pressing a kiss to his red and sweaty cheek, feeling the heat come off it. Max's heart is beating so hard Daniel can feel it under his palm, resting on Max's back.

He feels his own blood rushing into his ears as he tries to comfort him, tries to keep him from going too into deep before they reach the hotel. He can see the wary glances the driver is sending their way, but he tries his best to ignore them.

"It hurts," Max whispers, whining against Daniel's neck, desperately trying to grind against him. Daniel can feel him where he's so wet it's soaking through his jeans, can smell his sweet heat scent. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. It wasn't supposed to happen at all.

"I know, baby," he says, keeping his voice just as low, pet name slipping out as he scents him, hoping to give him some sort of relief. "I am so sorry, we're almost there."

He should have know, should have at least asked, when Max had been off all weekend. Or someone should have. Daniel has no idea when Max's heats are normally scheduled for, doesn't know who he usually spends them with, and now Max is way too out of it to be a reliable source of information.

What a mess.

He tries to take a hand off Max to call Christian again, but he has barely started to move before Max is whining again, shaking in his lap, tears and spit mixing on Daniel's collar.

By the time he manages to pay the poor driver, get them both into the miraculously empty elevator and into his room, Daniel is panting and Max is full on crying, eyes glazed over and hands shaking. Daniel has never seen him like this. He is terrifyingly aware of how not equipped he is to deal with this.

Sure, Max is an omega, Daniel knows how to help an omega in heat, but they never...Max has never agreed to any of this.

Christian's phone goes to voicemail again.

"Alpha..." Max's hands are tangled in Daniel's shirt as he pushes forward, grinding against Daniel's thigh.

"Max, you're not..." Daniel tries to take a deep breath, tries to hold him still without hurting him, even as every single one of his instincts scream at him to help Max. "I am not taking advantage of you."

"You are not! I want, please!" Max's voice is high and desperate and he's shaking so hard Daniel is the only thing keeping him from falling to the ground. Daniel's heart hurts.

"I can't."

He tries to scent him again, tries to hold him close to his body while ignoring the way his dick tries to say it surely can do something about it, but Max has other ideas, one of his hands sneaking between them and grabbing at him.

Daniel gasps, unable to stop his hips from canting forward, grinding against Max, feeling him go even more boneless, before regaining control.

"No, Max," he tries to be as firm as possible, grabbing Max's wrist and moving his hand away, but Max wriggles away, forcing Daniel to shift to be able to keep them both upright.

And then Max is keening, pained and upset, the sound petering into a broken sob.

"Why won't you help me?"

His tears are falling on Daniel's skin, his smell, sweet with heat, sour with despair, is filling his nose. Daniel's hands clutch at Max's waist, pushing him towards the bed, as the last sliver of his control vanishes into nothing.

[imerian]

Aaaaand i decided to post more of my f1 crafts here so here landoscar edition (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

Onse again photo without doodles under cut and some rambling in tags

[posletsvet]

Satoru Gojo and the Infinity That Sets Him Apart

Throught the flashback arc that opens JJK'S second season, the story goes to great lengths to make us sympathize with Geto. We are privy to the inner workings of his mind when he faces personal catastrophes of his youth, and it grants us a profound insight into how his mental/emotional state deteriorates in response to a painful realization that later comes to define his entire life. Gege found a way to turn Geto's tendency to internalize his experiences into a narrative tool, the mechanics of his Cursed Technique becoming an apt metaphor for it, and that's one truly astonishing writing.

But what about Gojo? After all, it's his memories that play out before our eye as he daydreams, and Geto is no longer an active force in the narrative, so the arc should be introduced in the first place to shed some light on Satoru's character and highlight certain aspects of it. However, while the narrative goes out of its way to humanize Geto by exposing his interiority to the audience, it seems to bit by bit deny readers access to Gojo's mind until Satoru is entirely closed off emotionally at the end of Hidden Inventory Arc. From that point on, any reading of his words and actions can be as good as the other since personal interpretation is all that is left to us to try and understand what lies behind the appearances (I guess that's precisely why there are so many widely different, conflicting interpretations of Gojo out there). What process Gojo's character undergoes throughout his past arc is, essentially, dehumanization.

Let's take a look at Gojo as he is in the main, present timeline. Pretty much as any other person in Gojo's vicinity, the audience can only observe him from the outside, always held at an arm's length away from his interior thoughts and emotions. Whenever we do get an insight into his mind, it's mostly for a solely practical purpose of keeping the readers informed about the direction which the fight is about to take, with Satoru's internal monologues consisting almost completely of him dryly strategizing against his opponents.

Even Gojo's design is set to dehumanize him, teasing the audience with how much it conceals and how little it allows us to derive from what we see. Plain black clothes, long sleeves, long trousers, high collar. Barely any skin exposed, scarce detail, completely colourless expression. To crown it all, his blindfold -- we do not get to see his eyes. Eyes mirror the soul, they communicate emotion which our words fail to. Eye contact is a primal tool of non-verbal communication because of how much our eyes alone can give away about our feelings. With Gojo's eyes perpetually hidden under his ever-present blindfold, there's an additional layer of protection, another hindrance to our understanding of his state of mind. A simple piece of cloth adds to the distance preventing access to Gojo's direct perspective, as impenetrable as trying to look through a blindfold would be for anyone but Gojo himself. The same could be applied even to his height: people around him are required to reach up with their gaze in order to look him in the face. Once again, this choice in his design strives to communicate one thing: you cannot meet him at his level, there is a palpable distance between where he stands and where you are. Everything about Gojo feels almost impersonal, evasive, further increasing the extent of his alienation.

There's an interesting connection found between Gojo's technique, his need to cover his eyes and the narrative distance that does not allow us to get any closer to his character. It's precisely when Gojo puts his mind to perfecting his usage of the Limitless that an unbreachable impediment settles between him and the people around, resulting in him and Geto from that point on being forever unable to get through to each other. With his technique taking a toll on his body by becoming more overwhelming to use after such a rapid increase in power, it's also when Gojo starts to wear his shades all the time. And whereas before we were allowed to look past the tanned spectacles and see his eyes, read the emotion in them, now we're denied even that much. It's probably a short after Geto's defection when Satoru switches to a blindfold, indicating how he completely shuts off emotionally. Just as Geto's Curse Manipulation stands as a metaphor for him repressing his feelings till the breaking point, Gojo's mental state is reflected through the physical appearance, too. Him physically distancing himself from everything within the world around him with his Limitless technique sustaining an uncrossable invisible barrier around him and his blindfold hiding his eyes from the viewer is also how his emotional detachment is established on the meta level of the narrative.

Since Geto's defection, Gojo's defenses are breached in the main timeline just once, and that is during Shibuya Incident Arc. It's barely a coincidence that, as the Limitless falls short and the ever-present physical distance is crossed sharply with the Prison Realm reaching Gojo, the emotional distance is immeadiately eliminated, too.

All defenses down and the memories of his youth flooding through the cracks, Gojo suddenly isn't numb to all the hurt of his past mistakes and what it cost him and the people around him; all the ache of losing his best friend not once but twice and being utterly unable to do anything about it still weighs on him. Neither is numb to all of it the reader, not anymore. The narrative 'catches up' to Gojo at this moment. It was an alienating, almost inhumane experience to never get a sight of Gojo's emotions when it mattered the most, at the pivotal events of his life which come to shape him as a character and as a person. We were simply denied that intimacy. But with Satoru's physical body made within reach and his mind suddenly transparent, laid bare, the delayed heartbreak is alive and present as ever. The weakness of his human heart is exposed, but it required crossing the Infinity to get to his heart.

The physical distance is only breached because the emotional one is eliminated beforehand. However, we finally get to catch a glimpse of Gojo's true feelings because something within the world was able to reach him physically, penetrating through his Limitless technique. The two are the sides of the one coin, they go hand in hand within the narrative, ultimately rendered inseperable by it. At the end of the day, the body is the soul and the soul is the body.

I've started writing all this well before the spoilers for the last chapter came out, but what we see in it, at least how I personally take it, speaks in favour of pretty much everything I've been talking about above. It's somewhat notorious how little emotional impact Gojo's fight against Sukuna lands. Until now. Until Gojo's Infinity utterly fails to prevent his body from taking the damage. Once again we gain insight into his interiority the instance he's physically exposed to the world. With Gojo's invulnerability ultimately overcome, the narrative grants us access to his inner feelings and thoughts one last time. Satoru's heart is an aching wound split open one last time.

[silusvesuius]

n*loth not being able to bag anyone over the (human term) age of 25-30 at most is the only logical and real conclusion to me because it can be just explained away as him wanting to prove and control everything and anyone (Cus he's a man!) but being stuck in that demographic because his unbearable and vile personality is a force that nobody can look past once they've outgrown the possible fear and idolization period of anyone but also n*loth in particular.

[angusbyrne]

LOCATION: Woodrow House grounds DATE: Sunday, September 4, 2005 Closed starter for @natcliachen

Angus remembered being told at some point in the last week that the past summer in New York was one of the warmest on record—averaging 4.5 degrees higher than normal. September already seemed geared up to take a similar direction. The day of Richard's funeral was clear and sunny, with a projected high of 78 degrees around noon. Milder than August and balmy, it remained the type of weather you dreamed of when you fantasized about the tail-end of summer while you were caught in the dog days of it. Howbeit, it still made Angus flush around the Piqué collar of his shirt.

He only meant to wander off for a tick. Angus feared a smattering of pink would soon pass across his cheekbones or that he'd quickly become incapable of keeping down the hors d'oeuvres. The afternoon was an endless well of thank you for coming and that's an awfully kind thing for you to say and no, he never told me that story, it sounds extremely amusing and where did you say your son would be interning? I'll be sure to keep an eye out for him. Shaking hands, exchanging business cards, nosey questions, getting pat on the arm—he felt like an exposed nerve, poked and prodded and turned over for examination. He simply needed a break.

As he strode across the lawn—that was what he often did: strode—he caught sight of a familiar outline. Natalia. Neat and pretty as a paper doll, a well-trained eye might've caught the tight creases around her eyes. Tired, maybe. Annoyed by what the man in the dark navy suit said to her, most certainly. He couldn't read the man's lips, but he did judge his choice of light brown shoes. That deemed her worthy of extraction on its own, whether or not she requested one. It would be a quick detour. He approached with no lack of confidence, clapping a hand over the shoulder of the man who seemed to show no signs of reining in his passionate gesticulation.

Angus recognized his face immediately. "Macpherson," he started warmly, donning the mask of gracious host quite seamlessly, though, in the last few minutes, his tie had been knocked very slightly askew. "I've been sent to wrangle you of my own volition. Roger Milton and Graham Atterbury are engaged in a relentless debate. They're talking personal consumption expenditures, disposal personal incomes, mortgage rates—what have you." With a hand still on the man's shoulder, he gently and covertly began to turn him in the opposite direction. "Neither economists, of course. You'll have to save them with your expertise."

It was an easier task for him, getting rid of an obnoxious man. He exhaled heavily once the unwanted third party was gone, turning back to Natalia with a near-pleasant expression. The exhaustion started to crack him a bit, but he still had enough goodwill to extend her a compliment. "It's a testament to your mental fortitude that you were not just brought to tears of boredom," he said. Honest. "Tell me—how long did he go on for?"

[popsicle-stick]

foolish though it may be i am once again thinking a lot about self-sacrificial character arcs resulting in memory loss.........bring out the gin

[causenessus]

okay I can put up shelves and wash dishes and cook who wants me

[bayofwolves]

i was on the most random nostalgia kick and rewatched the prince of egypt yesterday and let me just say... that movie is truly one of the greatest animated films of all time.

[aangarchy]

I binged heartstopper s2 through work yesterday and i have Things To Say but i'll just start with this: i hc that Nick has dyscalculia

Listen when he opened his maths exam and instead of equations or diagrams he saw a bunch of squiggles which messed with his head is such an accurate portrayal of what it's like to do math with dyscalculia. Not as in they actually become squiggles but more as in it feels like you're looking at a foreign language and no matter how hard you try you cannot make sense of it.

Personally i can do simple sums but anything more than that and it just stops making sense. At a certain point you don't even know what you're calculating anymore and you get extremely frustrated with yourself. And when you talk to others about it usually they'll be like "oh yeah i get it i hate math too" but the thing is, i actually enjoy math and it's really satisfying when it works. But for me the issue is that more often than not i end up confused before i can even solve it. I don't hate math i just genuinely can't do it.

Dyscalculia is such an unknown learning disorder. A friend of mine did her thesis on learning and behavioral disorders for youth in prisons, and she made the remark that no matter how hard she looked she could barely find any research papers to use in her thesis on dyscalculia. All of it was dyslexia, adhd and the like. Each time people ask i have to explain what dyscalculia is, and each time they go "oh you don't know your multiplication tables? That's kind of silly" and it truly grinds my gears. This impacts my daily life immensely. A cashier will hand me my change and i just have to trust they're correct because i cannot count that fast. When i ask someone for the time and they just show me their analog watch in response i want to bite their hand off, bonus points if that watch has roman numbers. There's several tasks that take me way longer than it should at work because i get lost in calculating the price for something simple,

Anyway, Nick has dyscalculia 2023 and i will not take no for an answer.

[throwing-roses-into-the-abyss]

unlocked a new diy skill: learned how to drill a hole in wood

[pyotrkochetkov]

@Canes: Shoutout Turbo!!

[utilitycaster]

just an idle weird thought given the proximity of Phineas's breakdown in Midst, Ashton's breakdown on Critical Role, and some stray thoughts I've had about Tula on D20, Suvi on WBN, and that female blorbos post that goes around from time to time; but I feel like that very specific identity crisis/explosive depression spiral re Phineas and Ashton is truly a thing that makes me go oh this character is actually everything is weirdly gendered. It's almost always a man who has it; Ashton is honestly the only example I can think of who isn't a man (though I think Suvi might be headed for this, which is one of the many reasons I love her).

[quasi-normalcy]

.

[oh-meow-swirls]

was looking through old posts and i'm surprised to see that i seemingly didn't have any commentary on anything in 3 in chapter 7, 8 or 9, the posts related to 3's story go from "my first reaction when i saw yopple-bot was 'i love you. but also you are definitely the boss for this chapter-'" to "i have been in hell all day. hell being bada-bing tower." funny to me cuz those chapters are like, the best ones sdfkljsdfjfsdkjlfsdjkl-

[iiboronii]

Me upon realizing that I can just have an AU instead of writing an entire fanfiction about an idea I had in my head once: