#and people like you bought it up because that's all there ever was to it. no good writing. no nuance. just jason looking cool being the best

[ghostofbriggiesmalls]

And to quell dissent, the post 9/11 media (i.e. movies and tv shows - think 24) facilitated this. This is undoubtedly due to influence by the Department of Defense - they pour MILLIONS into funding movies and TV shows every year and give access to military equipment, provide consulting, etc.

They wanted what they were doing to look unpalatable but necessary. And the reality is that MOST people, the military included, bought into that idea. Fuck, I would say even people who should know that shit doesn’t work who were doing the actual torturing probably deluded themselves into believing it does.

Study after study in the post 9/11 world, however, has shown that people will say whateverthefuck under duress just to make the torture stop. Does it make them confess? You’re goddamn right it does. They’ll confess to murdering that guy. And their mom. And to having faked the moon landing. And to having shot JFK. And to being secretly 3 raccoons in a trench coat. Whatever you want just to make it stop. And, for clarity, when people are being enhanced interrogated tortured, it’s not like the detainee is saying “ok, you waterboarded me enough so here’s the plan…” They’re being asked simple questions like, “were you at the meeting” or “do you know Steve” and are being tortured until the torturer gets the desired response. “No” and “I don’t know” aren’t the right answers and result in more torture. So you say “yes” to make it stop.

The FBI was the only US security agency to actually get relevant information from adversaries in the post 9/11 era because they’ve been running interrogations of people for fucking ever and they know how to do it. ACAB. They established a relationship, got the person talking, then got relevant info. ACAB. That’s a normal part of law enforcement. ACAB. Fuck the cops forever but at least they got that right. ACAB.

Interestingly, this is where the movie Zero Dark Thirty is kind of a wild case. When it came out if got MASSIVE blowback for its torture scenes. People were saying it was pro-torture because they show these scenes where a character is being tortured and he ends up giving up information. And the characters in the movie are like, “yeah this is unsavory, but look at how effective it is.”

But, and this is critical, the information they get is wrong and useless. It’s not until one of the characters takes the prisoner out of the cell, starts talking to him, feeds him, and basically treats him like a person, that they get actual useful information. Sure the characters who are ostensibly the protagonists are pro-torture, but the plot shows that it’s actually bullshit and they’re wrong.

All that to say, yeah, torture doesn’t work irl and pretending like it does in media is irresponsible and dangerous because it helps all of us pretend like it does and just keeps us doing more torture.

Things that work in fiction but not real life

torture getting reliable information out of people

knocking someone out to harmlessly incapacitate them for like an hour

jumping into water from staggering heights and surviving the fall completely intact

calling the police to deescalate a situation

rafting your way off a desert island

correctly profiling total strangers based on vibes

effectively operating every computer by typing and nothing else

ripping an IV out of your arm without consequences

heterosexual cowboy

[suzukiblu]

Day ten of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems that causes for someone who was in that situation and hasn’t processed it trying to have a relationship with someone actually age-appropriate. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“I mean–it’s nice,” Kon says, smiling just as helplessly into his collar and keeping his eyes on the sidewalk as they walk. “Just, you know, it’s not the kinda stuff you usually get me. Like–it’s just, you know–pretty, or whatever. It’s not for anything. Like, I can’t wear it for you and it’s not, you know, food or a game or anything.” 

Tim did not actually realize that he hadn't bought Kon anything that didn't count as “useful” yet, though given the video games and candy and jewelry he's pretty sure they just have different definitions of what “useful” actually is. Also he needs to take a moment to not burn alive over Kon saying the phrase “wear it for you” again, which definitely takes the full moment, because Jesus Christ. 

That has not gotten any less affecting, yeah. 

“Oh, I guess,” he says in his best imitation of a normal person's normal voice. “I didn't really think about that. I just thought you might like it, so I got it for you.” 

Kon somehow finds a new shade of red to turn that honestly might actually be a Kryptonian-related one, considering the intensity of it. It is, unfortunately, cute as fuck. 

“I mean, I do like buying you clothes and stuff, obviously. You look really nice in that outfit, for one,” Tim says, and Kon glances away again, still smiling helplessly and still just as red-faced. He really does blush so easy. It’s weird, Tim thinks, given how much flirting he does. But maybe Kon’s just the “can dish it out but can’t take it” type, he guesses. 

Alternately, maybe people just aren’t complimenting him as often as he deserves and he's not used to hearing it. 

. . . Tim makes a mental note to pencil in some affirmations in Young Justice’s next training session and also to buy Kon even more flowers than he was already planning to. Flowers that come with little hand-written cards that say nice things about him, specifically. 

“You better think I look nice in it, pretty boy,” Kon says, biting his lip around another grin. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted me all fancied up.” 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I liked the crop top too,” Tim allows, and Kon bursts into laughter and then lets go of his jacket collar and just–beams at him, actually. Just–literally actually beams, brighter than anything in Gotham that doesn’t run on electricity. 

Tim manages not to step off the sidewalk into traffic by Robin-reflexes alone and literally nothing else. 

Jesus, that expression. 

“I like, uh–that,” Kon says, and then blushes a little darker again. “Um–I mean, I like that you, uh . . . like to get me stuff you think I look good in. Uh. I don’t know how to say this without it sounding weird, fuck, just–just I like it.” 

“Oh,” Tim says. The warehouse district in his brain is a lost cause; the fire has officially spread to the docks and across downtown. His mental Gotham is going the way of 1871 Chicago, he’s pretty sure. “Uh–um, good. I’m glad.” 

“It’s just, um–I dunno, it’s just nice to look nice for somebody,” Kon murmurs a little bit shyly, tugging his jacket collar up over his mouth again but still obviously smiling behind it. Tim isn’t sure if that’s a line of thought he should be concerned by after the kind of things Kon was saying earlier, if–“Instead of, you know. For everybody.” 

. . . Tim decides that actually, never mind the concern. Kon can look as good for him as he wants to, if what Kon’s used to is being stuck having to look good for some stupid ad campaign or magazine shoot or what the frick ever. And like–it’s not like he has a problem with Kon wanting to wear things he thinks he’ll like. That is pretty much the opposite of a problem for him, in fact. 

It probably explains the makeup, too. There were definitely not any ad campaigns with glitter eyeliner or nail polish involved. 

. . . not that Tim’s seen all the ad campaigns or anything, just–

Alright, fine, he’s seen all the ad campaigns. That’s just Bat SOP, alright? And definitely only Bat SOP.

[mywritersmind]

TWENTY FINE - LN4

summary : Throwing your best friend a birthday party is easy. Trying to figure out if he’s joking about kissing you is the hard part. Two best friends and a moonlit roof.

listen up : kissing! swearing! happy birthday lando norris!! 25!

word count : 1976

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Lights flashing, music blasting, people jumping. It's everything that surrounds me while I grab my third drink of the night from the bar. A body slides up next to me and I know who it is immediately.

He smells like alcohol and the cologne I bought for him last year. “Birthday boy.” I smile softly as he grins at me. “You look happy.”

“How could I not be? My best friend organized the best party ever just for me. I’m feeling special.” He’s radiating good energy. He looks sickeningly good. In black slacks and a shirt to match, it’s unbuttoned low enough so I can see his 4 necklace hitting his chest.

“Well, you’re twenty fine!” I laugh at my own joke as Lando cringes, “I’m glad you’re happy though.” The bartender hands me my drink which I bring to my lips instantly. He's being extra nice to me because I organized the party and made sure it’s only people we know and like.

He rests his hand on my arm as a girl calls his name, he glances back then meets my eyes again, “I seriously don’t deserve you.” Lando brings his lips to my cheek quickly, winking and hurrying off to people who chant his name.

I laugh, making my way over to my friends. Max eyes me, “You’re seriously beating me out of number one best friend spot.”

“Good! I deserve it more.” He shakes his head, his curls moving with him.

“Not fair! Lando likes your face more.” I roll my eyes and take another drink, turning to Carlos who’s with his girlfriend Rebecca.

“Can I steal your girlfriend away?” Carlos frowns as Rebecca sits up, “That actually wasn’t a question!” I take her hand and we run into the crowd.

Everyone’s sweaty and drunk and laughing. I hold onto Rebecca’s hand and jump under the lights. My hair is messy and in my face, my skirt riding up and I couldn’t be happier.

Some of our friends join us, hugging and waving at people as I grin. My drink is empty in my hand and I lose it when a guy comes up next to me. He’s one of Lando’s friends, hot and tall with shaggy hair.

I catch Lando in the crowd right as his friends puts his hand on my waist, whispering in my ear in an attempt to be seductive.

He’s laughing with Max and a girl I don’t know. She’s holding Lando’s hand but I can tell he’s trying to shake her off when he moves to push back his hair with his occupied hand.

He gives in eventually, dancing with her far too close for my eyes. I turn back to the guy and focus on him.

He grabs my ass as I move my hands to his shoulders, “You’re Y/n, right?” I nod, leaning my head back and feeling the music. “I’ve heard a lot about you!” I wish he would stop talking to me.

“That’s nice!” Is all I can say.

“Lando talks you up, I just had to see if you’re really that great!” I nod slowly and back away to my friends. Mentioning my best friend while feeling me up is not the way to get in my pants.

“Y/n!” Lily, Alex Albons girlfriend grins at me. Every annoyance in my face disappears as I hug her.

“Lily!” We melt into a mix of talking, screaming the lyrics, and dancing.

“Where’s Lando!?” She yells over the music as I shrug.

“Off with some girl!”

She gives me a look. It’s weird and almost surprised, She sips her drink and nods drunkenly, “You need a boyfriend!” When she gets pulled away by her boyfriend, I slip out of the crowd.

I know my way around the place, there’s three levels and they’re all completely filled. When I step up to the third, I can see Lando at the DJ booth, a huge smile on his face.

I close the door behind me, the music muffling as I walk up the staircase. It’s creepy and dark but as soon as I step onto the roof, the cool air hitting me, I take a deep breath and smile.

I love parties, I wouldn’t be so close with Lando if I didn’t. But I need air far more often than him. I step to the edge, leaning on the barrier and looking out at the city.

People are walking the streets still, some dancing and some arguing. They look like ants. My eyes catch on a tiny couples, they’re holding hands and skipping down the street.

I rest my chin on my hand, looking up at the stars. I wonder if any of the stars are looking down at me and thinking I look like an ant.

I’m so absorbed in the sky that I jump when the door to the starecase opens. When I turn, I see Lando.

His hands are in his pockets as he walks up to me, “You okay?”

“Yeah! Just wanted some air…” I turn to him, the concrete rubbing against my exposed back, “Why are you up here?”

“Looking for you. Had a feeling you’d be looking at the stars.” He's teasing but I know he’s 100% serious. He rests his forearms on the parapet and looks out at the city.

I outline his profile in my mind, his freckles and hair looking extra nice under the moonlight. His eyes closes, dark green disappearing under unfairly thick lashes.

“Enjoying the party?” I ask quieter than I meant.

He turns to me, looking at me like no one else has. “I’d be enjoying it more if you would stay with me.” I may have been avoiding him a tiny bit, but I wanted him to be catching up with his other friends.

“You seemed like you were enjoying that girl's presence more than mine.” I’m lying and he knows it.

Lando turns to me, narrowing his eyes, “Untrue.” He looks at me for a second, his eyes flicking down to my body. If it were anyone else, I would think they were just looking at my outfit. Unfortunately, I know Lando better than that. “You look good.”

“Well this party is star studded…” I joke, “Had to look my best to compete.” I run my hand through my hair, my rings tugging on it.

He shakes his head, not joking with me, “They can’t compete with you in pajamas, love.” Still, a serious little smile tugs at his lips. This is what he does.

He drops something like that then goes and makes out with a girl opposite of me. But I’ve done the same so I can’t say anything. It’s just how our friendship works.

“Someone’s been taking advantage of the bar.”

“I've had two drinks.” Is all he says. I know he’s serious, too. “I wanted to say thank you- though. That’s why I came up here.”

I smile softly, tilting my head at him, “You’ve said thank you.”

“I mean thank you for everything.” His hands fidget in front of him, “For being there.”

He’s being extra sincere. “You’re welcome. And this is your present so don’t go asking for more-” He gets a big closer, laughing.

“Just one more thing?” He says in a sort of begging tone.

I raise a brow, our arms touching now, “What could you, Mr rich birthday boy, want?”

He bites his lip, then lets it go. The look he gives me is… magnetic. “A birthday kiss.”

It surprises me and for the first time in a while, I don’t know if he’s joking. “I’m sure you could get that from many others.”

“You don’t want to kiss me?” His hand goes to my waist, not touching my skin, but tugging at the fabric of my skirt.

I breathe in, scanning his face for any hint of humor. “I didn’t say that.” I know I made the right move when the corner of his mouth tugs upwards.

“So say you want to.” His voice is soft, that accent I’ve listened to for years soothing my beating heart.

I furrow my brows together, “You’re gonna make me beg for your birthday present?” There’s a tiny shadow on his face from the moonlight and his curls.

“It’s called consent, love.”

I take a big step, resting my arm on his shoulder so he gets closer, “Happy birthday, Lando.” I don’t think he’s going to do it at first, but then he leans in.

He hesitates, looking at my lips and eyes to make sure. But then he closes the gap and I wonder why I would ever say yes to this.

I think I'm out of my mind but who cares about that because Lando’s lips are on mine and I'm melting into him. He’s soft, pressing a gentle kiss onto my lips. Lando pulls back by an inch, he looks into my eyes. They're so green, my favorite color.

I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe and I'm pulling him back in, crushing his lips back onto mine. His hold on my hips gets tighter and my other arm wraps around his neck. His tongue goes into my mouth and suddenly I can’t understand why we haven’t done this before.

Kissing Lando is everything. My mind has come up with a hundred ways this would happen, I knew I shouldn’t think about it but I can’t help my dreams.

He feels hot against me. Hungry and needy for me.

He pulls me tighter against him, like he physically needs to be closer. It’s everything I've ever wanted and everything I’ve dreaded.

The moment someone steps out onto the roof, loudly stomping and singing, I pull away and look back over at the city.

It looks new… somehow.

I don’t look back at the guy, but Lando clears his throat and the man starts talking, “Oh shit! Sorry!” and the door closes, leaving us again in silence.

My heart is pounding so hard that I barely hear Lando mumble, “Dickhead.”

I smile slightly at this, dropping my head down so my hair falls in my face. What the fuck did I just do?

“I’m going to ask for one more thing.” Lando says, “Please don’t get mad.”

I push my hair behind my ear and listen to him.

“Can I take you out?” What the hell. “On an actual date. Not for a present or because I want you to. Because you want to.”

“Lando-”

“We’re not ruining anything.” He knows what I was going to say already. “I want to take you out on a date because I like you.”

I feel like I'm dreaming. This doesn’t feel possible. “Okay.”

“And you can’t say no just because you’re nervous because i’m nervous too and basically shitting myself just asking- wait. Okay!?”

I smile softly, nodding, “I guess I'll let you pay for a fancy dinner.”

He shakes his head, a huge smile appearing on his face, “We are not going to dinner! Do you even know me?” his hand goes to mine, lingering.

“I don’t want to fuck this up, Lando.” I say it because he’s right, I am scared.

He shakes his head, “I’m twenty fine… Nothing gets messed up anymore! Especially with you. Nothing is ever wrong with you.”

I sigh as he slips his hand to my cheek, moving his thumb softly against my skin. He cups my jaw and kisses me again. “I like kissing you.”

It feels right all over again, and I can’t help but smile at the idea that I’ll be doing this over and over again.

“Smiley.” He says against my lips.

Lando barely lets me get my words in, lost in lust and smiles, “I like you too, Norris. A lot.” He kisses me harder.

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 45!

what a week... i'm greatly enjoying all of the post-8x06 buddie fic (many more recs to come!) and took some time to revisit old favourites, which can be found in previous rec lists. enjoy!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

all that we need | not1_2write | 26.4k | M

When Buck buys a Powerball lottery ticket he doesn't think much beyond his need for change to air up his tire. He forgets all about the ticket until word spreads that the winning ticket was sold in LA and hasn't been claimed yet and pretty much dismisses it. After all, there's no way he won the lottery. Turns out no, he really did win the Powerball, to the tune of 295 million dollars and just in time for Christmas. He's going to make sure the 118 has the best Christmas of their lives. And just maybe he'll have a good one too. idk about all of you but i do dream about winning the lottery regularly (way too often for someone who's never bought a ticket, that's for sure). this is such a lovely look at what buck would do with a whole lot of money <3

i take this magnetic force of a man | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 9k | M

Turns out, he isn’t actually afraid of commitment. He’s just afraid of committing to the wrong thing, or the wrong person. Ana, obviously, had been a mistake, because he hadn’t been ready, and he’d put other people’s expectations above his own wants and needs. With Marisol, he’s done the same thing. Moved too fast, doing what he thinks is the right thing according to who? His parents? For Chris’s benefit? Again, pushing past his own comfort, discarding any doubt because it doesn’t fit like… Like Buck. blanket rec for one of my favourite authors who has been posting incredible fics lately!! this one in particular is so beautifully written and so romantic and just so very buddie <3

if i need to rearrange my particules i will for you | thelikesofus/@thelikesofus | 7.9k | GA

Eddie catches a cold and Buck takes care of him while having a minor, non-platonic emotional crisis. this is definitely influenced by the fact that i've been ill myself but wow truly nothing hits as hard as buddie taking care of each other when one of them isn't feeling well. the bed sharing in this is so good <3

let me | facewithoutheart/@facewithoutheart | 1.6k | T

Eddie doesn't think he needs romance. Buck, respectfully, disagrees. AKA the fic where Buck picks Eddie up and kisses him breathless against a wall. and buck is so right for doing that!! i love it when buck turns eddie to jello <3 so lovely!

second child, restless child | lesbianrobin/@lesbianrobin | 23k and counting| M

how Evan and Maddie make it out of Pennsylvania, and Buck and Maddie build a family. okay so listen these past few weeks i've been doing this thing where i only rec finished fics, and every time i scroll through my ao3 history for these rec lists, i come across this one and go oh i wish i could rec this already. and then i realised wait it's my rec list i can do whatever i want, and so then i did. anyway, mind the tags for this one, but wow are you in for a treat here! i love the character dynamics (chim is brilliant in this!! and maddie!!) and i'm so so excited to see the rest of this fic unfold <3

said that i was fine, said it from my coffin | justhockey/tumblr | 7.3k | T

And it doesn’t matter that he feels like he’s dying. Like the version of himself that he’s always been is suddenly a stranger to him - just a mask he’d spent his entire life hiding behind, without ever even realising he was wearing it. It doesn’t matter that Eddie is…that he’s gay. Because he knows - as surely as he knows that the sun will rise again tomorrow - that the only person he has ever, and will ever, truly love is Buck. And Buck isn’t his to love. another blanket rec for an author who's been posting incredible fics!! this one in particular has such brilliant eddie characterisation and i just devoured it the second i got that little ao3 email hehe

there's no place like home-spun | icewhisper | 4.1k | GA

Buck has spent most of his life trying to find something to settle fidgeting hands and the restless need for a home. He found the key to the latter when he was thirteen. He finds the former in a cozy home on South Bedford Street with two of his favorite people. (AKA the Buck-crochets fic that literally no one asked for.). this fic makes me want to learn how to crochet. i am the least crafty person ever and i have like minus time but just know that if two weeks from now i'm posting about yarn and crochet hooks and whatnot, it's all thanks to this fic. i love buck who crochets so very much <3

you get your dreams for free | llovely/@butchdiaz| 14.9k | T

five times buck and eddie cuddle drunk and one time they cuddle sober. buddie bed sharing my absolute favourite. i read this late at night curled up under three blankets and it hit just right <3

[zekeyboy]

A collection of some of my SAW headcanons. You can tell who my favorite characters are.

//

Strahm’s divorced. He still wears his wedding ring - out of habit, is what he’ll tell everyone. He actually wears it because he refuses to admit she divorced him for being too focused on his work.

Adam lived in a punk house for the first few years of his independence. His dad kicked him out of the house at 17 when he dropped out of highschool, and Scott offered him a place in the house. A whole bunch of people under that roof. It’s what got both Adam and Scott further into the scene. Once he got enough money to get his own place, he swore that he’d live alone until he was 30.

After the reverse bear trap, Amanda swore that no matter how hard she tried, her hair still felt sticky and blood-soaked. She chopped it all off to get rid of that feeling.

Adam isn’t loyal to one cigarette brand. Most of his cigarettes come from bumming them outside of concerts.

Strahm hates massages. Capital H, Hates.

Lawrence didn’t have custody of Diana at first. He had visitation, but after everything he went through, his mental state was a concern.

Strahm doesn’t listen to music when he’s driving. Ever. Not even radio. He drives in complete silence.

Adam has a huge CD collection. Most of it isn’t bought. A lot of it is downloaded and burned. He hates paying for music.

Adam was initially invited to be in Scott’s band, but he sucks at playing instruments. He ends up hanging out with them a lot anyways, and he’s invited to every show, but he kind of does his own thing.

Perez was initially very thrown off when she was paired with Strahm because of how unconventionally he does things. She quickly adapted.

Strahm recently quit smoking, but he still gets the urge. The pen clicking is his new vice.

Daniel Matthews refuses to listen to mainstream music. Like refuses so hard. He thinks he’s the coolest guy in the world for listening to underground punk rock bands.

[chillinglyadventurous]

You’re Losing Me

And I wouldn’t marry me either, a pathological people pleaser who only wanted you to see her

Collab with @ford-pines-lover

Word Count: 2,024

Do I throw out everything we built or keep it?

You’d battled with yourself for hours. Should you leave or should you stay? Your heart begging you not to leave him. You loved Ford for years. You’d loved him for so long. He was all you knew anymore. You weren’t happy, but you knew what to expect. Your mind, however, was overriding your aching heart. You had to leave. This wasn’t a healthy relationship. Hell, there was no relationship. Not anymore.

The room felt heavy and weighed down. Every ‘I love you’ that was ever uttered in this room was echoing off the walls. Hopes unfulfilled and love that hard worn impossibly thin mocked you. Were you really about to throw away the last ten years of your life?

You gave a breathless sigh as you stared down at the half-packed suitcase on the bed. Half-empty. Even your luggage laughed at you, pathetic. You just couldn’t decide. You’d packed and unpacked your bag about a dozen times. Even now, all you wanted to do was empty it again, fold your clothes, and put them back where they belonged. You couldn’t leave him. With every sweater or pair of underwear you packed, the good memories came flooding back. Every sweet thing he’d ever done for you washed over you, begging you to stay. But, you realized your heart was just playing tricks on you, taking over with each faltering thought. You deserved better than this.

With a sigh, you slipped your favorite sweater out of your bag and held it close to your chest. How many times had you found yourself curled up with this sweater, his sweater, while you waited for him to come to bed, hoping to hear his footsteps coming down the hall? Each strand of yarn held memories, the good and bad. You remembered him handing you this very sweater on a cold night, wanting you to keep warm. You remembered crying into the collar when he’d left without a word to explore.

Setting the sweater back down, you rubbed your eyes, trying to fight back the tears stinging your eyes. You’d cried too many tears over him already. You couldn’t let anymore fall. Despite the ache in your chest, a dull pain, you didn’t want to leave like that, crying. You were doing what was best for you. You wanted to leave knowing you were thinking over yourself for once. You were walking about because you deserved better than half-hearted affection and quiet resentment. You deserved someone who would love you.

You went back to the dresser, folding up more of your clothes. With each article you pulled over, memories came in. Everything was linked to him. There were outfits you wore on dates, lazy mornings wrapped in his arms.

You left one thing in your dresser, knowing you’d never wear it. The silk slip was offensive, emerald green. You traced the black lace with your fingers. You’d bought it for your ninth anniversary, something you had thought would catch his eye and pull him away from his work. It didn’t. You didn’t care that, someday, you’d have someone who would appreciate your efforts, worship you in such a beautiful thing. No, it was cursed and it was his problem now. Maybe he’d find it and realize what he lost.

You emptied out every drawer and the closet. Standing at the nightstand, you contemplated taking the framed Polaroid there. Graduation. Ford’s arms were thrown around you, both in your cap and gown. The tiny diamond on your finger glinting in the sunlight as he kissed you hard. You’d forgotten he asked you to marry him. So much had changed since then. You hadn’t worn that ring in years. It was somewhere in that room. You didn’t know where and you didn’t care enough to look for it. He could keep that too.

Despite your better judgment, you threw the small frame into your bag. In truth, it was a keepsake. You still loved him. You wanted to remember him. Still, you hoped this would scare him enough into changing. Maybe he’d call you in a panic, crying, begging you to come home with promises that he’d change. You rationalized it as a reminder of what you didn’t want to go through again, but, deep down, you knew you’d never be able to give him up.

You zipped up your suitcase and headed out the door. This was it. There was nothing else left to do. If you stayed, you’d only be hurting yourself and you’d done that enough.

I’m getting tired even for a phoenix, always rising from the ashes

You hadn’t gotten far when your car phone rang. You knew it was Ford. He was the only one who had the number. He was the only one who ever called, so, you let it ring. It rang and it rang. You had already made your decision, already put so much distance behind you, so why was it so hard to ignore him? Why did hearing his voice feel like everything you’d wanted and feared at the same time?

“Hello?” You finally whispered, voice barely above a breath.

There was a pause on the other end, and you could hear him exhale shakily. “Please, come back,” his voice cracked, rough around the edges in a way that you’d never heard before.

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to hold firm. “Stanford, I can’t keep doing this. I told you, I need more. I can’t keep standing on the sidelines, waiting for you to notice me.”

“I know,” he replied, a quiet desperation in his tone that caught you off guard. “I know I’ve put you second to my work and I hate that it’s come to this, but, please, just come home. I’ll make this right. I swear it.”

You wanted to believe him, but after so many broken promises, it was hard to let hope grow again. “I mean it. If I come back, things have to change.”

“They will,” he promised, the conviction in his voice so strong it tugged at something deep inside you. “Please, just give me this chance. Come home.”

Against the whisper of doubt in your mind, you turned back. The drive home felt surreal, every mile bringing you closer to him, to the life you’d almost left behind. How could you be so stupid? How could you give up the best thing that ever happened to you?

When you opened the front door, Ford was waiting, looking more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him. There were dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped, but his gaze held something you hadn’t seen in years. Full and unwavering attention.

He didn’t say anything, just reached for you, pulling you close, as though he were afraid you’d slip away if he let go. For a moment, just being there, held by him, it felt like everything might actually be okay.

In the days that followed, Ford kept his promises. He would set aside his work to spend time with you, listening intently to everything you said, his eyes warm and focused, as if rediscovering what he’d nearly lost. Each morning, he’d greet you with coffee and a kiss, taking a few extra moments to linger, his hand gently tracing the lines of your face. He even pulled back from some of his more intense projects, choosing to leave the lab earlier, allowing himself to be with you in ways he hadn’t in so long.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you had Ford to yourself. The two of you would share quiet, easy dinners, laughing together over silly memories. Finally, he was the man you met in college again. He’d pull you close at night, his hand slipping into yours, murmuring soft praises into your hair. You allowed yourself to believe that maybe this was real, that he’d finally chosen you.

Weeks passed and he stayed true to his word, keeping that fragile spark of hope alive. Ford seemed more at ease. You’d catch him smiling over his morning coffee, a relaxed grin on his face that warmed your heart. He made time for you in ways that felt new and precious, taking you on little outings, finding new ways to bring you into his world.

But, as time went on, his old habits started to creep back. Just little things at first, lingering in his study a bit longer than planned, muttering about a project or theory instead of letting you finish the story you were telling. You tried to brush it off, telling yourself that this was just who he was, that a few hours here or there wouldn’t matter. After all, he’d proven he was willing to put you first. Surely, he could balance both, right?

Except the late nights began to stretch longer. His attention started to drift more and more. One evening, you sat beside him on the couch, recounting a funny story from your day, only to realize he was staring at the wall, eyes unfocused, his mind somewhere else entirely. You stopped mid-sentence, waiting for him to notice, hoping he’d snap back to you. Minutes passed and he didn’t say a word, lost in a world far removed from your own. Finally, he seemed to shake himself out of it, glancing at you with a forced smile.

“Sorry, darling. I was just thinking about something.” He gave you a quick peck on the cheek before disappearing into his study.

Mendin’ all her gashes, you might just have dealt the final blow

You sat there alone, the warmth of his brief touch fading quickly, leaving a familiar chill in its place. You tried to ignore the pang of doubt, but it settled heavily, spreading like ice through your veins. The pattern was returning and, this time, it hurt even more because you’d thought things were finally different.

The days blurred together, Ford slipping back into his old habits, barely noticing when you reached out to him. Each night, he’d come to bed a little later, mumbling promises that he’d make time for you tomorrow, but tomorrow never came.

One evening, after a particularly long night of waiting, you walked to his study, leaning against the doorframe as you watched him, his back to you, hunched over his notes. You cleared your throat, trying to get his attention.

“Ford?”

He didn’t turn around, didn’t even flinch. “Just a minute, dear. I’m almost done.”

You knew he wasn’t. This was exactly where you’d been before, caught in the shadow of his work, waiting for scraps of his time. You stood there, watching him, a sinking feeling in your chest as he continued to scribble notes, muttering to himself about theories and experiments. The ache in your heart deepened, spreading until it became a steady, numbing truth. He had meant well. He’d truly tried, maybe even believed he could change, but Ford was a man consumed by his work.

The realization hit you all at once. You couldn’t live like this, couldn’t keep waiting for him to come back, to choose you, when he was always going to drift away again. With a quiet breath, you straightened, your heart steady as you turned back to the door. This time, there were no tears, no lingering hope. You weren’t angry or hurt. You just needed to move on. There was nothing left.

You promised yourself there wouldn’t be anymore chances. You told him there wouldn’t be anymore. You warned him and you, unlike him, were going to make good on your promise. You walked quietly to the bedroom and packed a small bag, taking only what you needed. No dramatic exits, no last words. You’d made your peace.

You closed the door behind you, the air felt different, lighter, as if you were finally free. For the first time, you were truly walking away, carrying with you a quiet strength and a promise you’d made to yourself long ago: you would rise again, this time for yourself, and build a life where you were fully seen, fully loved, no matter how long it took.

[restless-soulz]

HOW THE HOUSEWARDENS ACT W/ A BABY (not their own, they're all still underage)

RIDDLE:

-man this guy is so bad with babies, but damn it if he isn't efficient

-he'll make sure that the physical needs are taken care of, but that's not entirely what a baby needs.

-but a baby can't tell you what exactly it needs so it'll just be stressful for both of them until he figures it out

-it might be a while

-doesn't do super well with physical affection (giving)

-he probably won't burn down the house to make a bottle for the baby but he will stress about the temperature and it'll go cold before he's satisfied and it'll repeat the process ad infinitum

LEONA:

-pls the baby he knew was cheka, and he was easy he's got this (NOT)

-lion man just wants to sleep and does not appreciate being woken up for feedings or changings or anything else

-doesn't care about bottle temp, milk is milk

-won't show but is a little stressed about having claws vs incredibly fragile baby skin

-genuinely confused to as why not all babies are not like Cheka

-after a while he'll get down the baby language and be so fast at it, just to maximize his sleep

-hey if it works it works

AZUL:

-another one not really fit for children

-would try to foist off the child to the leeches, and then realize that unfortunately he is the much better option (because morays eat their young)

-he will do his best tho and he will do an almost perfect job

-he just...overestimates human baby milestones

-it's ok, it can go one of two ways. either the parent is delighted by fast progress or Azul feels embarrassed

-like riddle, doesn't super love the whole physical contact thing

-also secretly i'd think he'd be great to talk to for anything involved in being recognized outside of your children or a body dysmorphia kind of depression cause same

KALIM:

-mans has 40 siblings or something

-i trust him, but he can be a little...cloud heavy

-he will make sure that baby is cuddled, and fed, and played, but sleeping is not his thing. adorable, but babies are AWAKE around him

-plus he's had servants that take care of the gross parts so he's clueless about how messy babies usually are

-jamil would lose his mind having two people to take care of, one infinitely more dependent than the other

-as much as i love him, don't give him a baby

VIL:

-he wouldn't try very hard

-babies are hard and he's not planning to babysit very long, he has more important things to do, but in the meantime

-this baby will be TAKEN CARE OF

-he bought a lot of...well...everything and all the excess goes to the parents.

-the cutest outfits you've ever seen

-detests changing and other gross parts but will do it

-does not like the not sleeping part, but he will admit they are very cute

IDIA:

-you're playing with fire here

-the only baby he's ever been around was Ortho, and that...ended terribly

-panicking every single second, and rapidly googling every time the baby breathes a little weird

-builds an automated bottle warmer and baby rockers so he has minimal contact with the baby as possible

-until Ortho says that skin to skin or physical contact is best for optimal health

-he'll whine and cry but do it, for a super short amount of time

-made an automatic changing station so he never does the gross parts

MALLEUS:

-adores children. they do not adore him.

-he can scare them a bit being all dark colors and rbf

-but he does theoretically know how to take care of a human baby

-i don't think silver should count since he's more of a changling

-will not put the baby down unless absolutely necessary (my kind of guy)

-the baby lives in a singular too big shirt or the most regal ensemble you've ever seen. no in between

-doesn't bother with changing since he can just magic it away

-also buys everything for the baby and keeps half for when he hopes to be asked to babysit again

[loulovingho]

please can i get a little of your tommy fic?? please please please!

Okay! Here's something for you:

“Tommy, I gotta be honest with you,” Cory took off his glasses, resting them on his knee. “I don't think I've seen you this unsure of yourself, maybe ever. Not even during our first session, when you couldn't say the words “I am gay” in the same sentence. You're holding back. Why?”

“Because I've hurt people!” Tommy exclaimed, feeling like his head was about to burst. “It's all I've ever done. I'm not enough, Cory. I have never been enough, and I push people away and I hurt them and he looked at me like I was some sort of hero, he looked at me like I had every answer in damn world and I don't. I don't have all the answers. I don't know what I'm doing. I wake up every fucking morning and I fake it. And he bought it. And I was taking it day by day, enjoying being with him while knowing it wasn't meant to last and somehow six months went by. So when he asked me to move in with him, I knew I couldn't. I couldn't do that. We barely knew each other! Six months and we barely knew each other.”

As always, Cory remained unshaken by the outburst. “That's a lot to hold onto, Tommy.”

Tommy rubbed the palms of his hands into his eyes, trying to make the burning go away. “He saw a future. He saw us living under the same roof. Saw marriage. Saw a whole life.”

“What'd you see?”

Tommy sucked in a shaky breath. “Nothing.”

[scekrex]

Ring the bell, baby

pairing: Poolverine

warnings: language, sexual tension, implied sex

note: not beta read bc fuck you

See, living with a person like Wade Wilson was special. Special because it was more exhausting than Logan had ever imagined. But it was also rewarding in many, different and surprisingly tasteful ways, as the Wolverine was granted to find out.

Wade was a freak. So when Logan entered the kitchen one morning he had found a bell. The thing was pink, even had a cute little bow on it and white letters read ‘ring for sex’. It was a simple thing, really, one of the less freaky things Wade had bought over the short period of time the two mutants had been living together. And oh lord have mercy, Logan was able to give people an entire list of freaky things the merc had ordered ever since the Wolverine from another earth had agreed to move in with Red. And the list was long, so very long and partly disturbing.

And that same pink bell that Logan had found on the kitchen counter a week ago, was now filling the apartment with the softest and yet annoying sound the Wolverine knew. Because Wade had just gotten home from a mission and the merc had turned it into a little tradition to ring that bell after every little adventure he went on. Actually, no scratch that. Wade was ringing that bell whenever he got his greedy little hands on it - which was often. And that was the reason - to Logan’s sensitive ears - the sound was highly annoying.

Then a groan from the living room was heard - Logan’s groan. The fabric of the old, worn out couch shifted, moved over the equally old and worn out cushions and the wood of the couche’s frame creaked under the heavy weight of Logan’s bones. Slow, heavy steps made their way towards the kitchen of the apartment and Logan was grateful for Al to be out of the house. The old lady could be quite lovely - at least to the Wolverine from another earth she was - but she couldn’t stand the noises of sex. Him and Wade had to learn that the hard way.

Wade was sitting on the counter. The bell was set down on the flat, clean surface next to him. His legs were dangling, his suit still drenched in blood from the mission he had been on for the entire day. The merc’s head was tilted to the side and even though he was wearing his mask, the grumpy, old Wolverine knew that underneath that red fabric there was a massive smirk.

And so the brunette grabbed Wade’s waist, hauled him off the counter and tossed him over his shoulder with zero effort, like Wade was just a sheet of paper, like the man wasn’t packing a bunch of muscles and strong bones himself. And so they made their way over to the only bedroom of the apartment - with Logan, who was carrying Wade thrown over his shoulder and Wade, who was dragging a chair behind them to put in front of the closed - and later locked - bedroom door to give Al a heads up in case the lady got home early from playing bingo with her friends.. Neither of them liked it very much when the old lady walked in on Logan and Wade. Especially Al - and she couldn’t even see the impure things Wade and Logan were doing in the bed all three of them shared. And she was grateful for that, God knew it, at least that’s what she said.

“About damn time your ass comes back to me,” Logan growled out in a deep, grumpy voice and yet Wade knew he didn’t mean it, wasn’t actually as annoyed as he acted. Because - believe it or not - Logan could be a little drama queen if he wanted to. At least that’s what Wade said, but who knew how true those words actually were - probably only Wade and Logan themselves.

“Sorry,” Wade responded in a tone that reflected his cheerfulness as much as his legs that kept happily kicking against Logan’s so well defined abs - at least they did so until Logan wrapped his other arm around them strong calves, pressing them to his chest with such force that it caused them to stop moving. Logan released a single, low grunt. “Some cockblocking shitface kept me on my toes, told ‘im I have a feisty little Wolvie waitin’ for me, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Keep the cheerful bullshit up, Wilson. We both know you won’t be able to walk after this. Not even with your healing factor.”

[ateez-himari]

Hi bb!!! Long time no see I missed you smm😔I hope you're doing good and resting well💗💗I had some annoying questions (as usual)

-I was watching some old bts mvs and I had a question which is, did pre-debut hima ever make a cameo in any bts mv before?

-this might sound weird but is there a specific meal or dessert or anything food related that is special to mingri? Like for example there's a lot of dishes that I connect with certain people either because we had a great memory while eating it together, or because they just remind me of it

-who are hima's closest idol friends and is there a specific idol that she opened up about her past to before she did that publicly

-has mimi and mingi released a song before dating that had some unsaid feelings? As they are both songwriters and alot of songwriters use songwriting as a way to portray unsaid emotions or feels towards a specific person

-last one I promise, is there any specific routine that the members started doing because of hima like it could be anything that she used to do alone that slowly became something they all started doing

I love you so much bb please eat and rest well mwahh💗💗🙏

OMGGG MINA HI!! I missed you too 🥹I'm doing okay don't worry, a little busy and you know uni stress, but I'm managing well! I love your "annoying" questions don't worry 😘

• Yoongi wanted to protect his sister from the media until her debut but the other members really wanted to involve her in a project, so he caved in and allowed her to appear briefly in the 'Run' music video. In an individual scene they can be seen at a small street shop, the girl almost 14 at the time, was pointing at a certain food very insistently and Yoongi eventually bought it for her with a falsely exasperated expression before ruffling her hair as they walked away. As per the rapper's very strict requests the scene was filmed in such a way that her face was not fully visible, only ever showing either her eyes, the back of her body, the lower half of her face, but never her entirely

The credit scenes also showed brief footage of them play fighting on set before he let her throw him onto the couch, grabbing her as she tried to run away in order to tickle her. Since news of their sibling relationship was not announced until 2019, people had many speculations about who this girl was but due to her visibly young age they simply wrote her off as a child actress that had grown close to the members

• When Mingi was feeling down she would bake him small tiramisu portions and sit in silence with him as he ate, often resting on his shoulder as reassurance, so in turns he attempted to make it as well. Unfortunately it did not turn out very edible and he was forced to sheepishly ask her for help, leading to the two bonding over it during one of the darkest days of their lives. Ever since then it's become a little habit to make this sweet treat for each other whenever they feel like the other needs comfort

• Hima, our little social butterfly, knows many people in the industry but is closest with; Jihyo and Momo (though she's close with TWICE as a whole), Jungkook, S.Coups, DIno (they have a secret maknae gc), Hyunjin and Bangchan. (She's also recently made friends with Kiss of Life's Julie, XG's Jurin and Chisa, and they're besties idc) The first ones to know about her past were obviously BTS, then ATEEZ and Taemin just so happened to guess from her behavior that something along those lines happened, leading to her opening up to him. Due to the very close sister-like bond, Jihyo also learned about it in detail prior to it becoming public knowledge. The only people who really know exactly what happened between her and Yoongi however are J-Hope and V (who overheard the conversation)

• Mingi wrote 'The Letter' using his longing for her - disguising it as nothing more than inspiration from some story he heard - and ironically enough Himari's song was also approved to be in an official album last minute under the name 'All About You'. The rest of these songs are still deep in their hard drives somewhere as neither wanted to have these feelings in the public eye due to this being a sensitive and painful topic

• It's usually Hima that picks things up from the members but one specific thing they began doing subconsciously is her little zoning out habit; whenever she zones out she tends to stick her tongue out a bit and they - mainly Wooyoung and Yeosang - started copying this. When she yawns she usually stretches her arms out in front of her and makes cat paw-like gestures to loosen her fingers and San actually picked up on this - our nyang-teez. While it's not much of a routine, she'll build stone towers to pray for the members' health habitually and seeing that it was very special to her they began doing it too

I love you too my sweet! Take very good care of yourself okay ? Mwahh 🥰🩷

[syrupbitee]

their dinamic is messy but caring but idfa about you all at same time it makes me want to explode i want to see more of them siu pls

[bondagebimbo]

LOVE when the pharmacy decides to fucking dick around with my meds so badly that now I’m off my mood stabilizer, my pain meds, and my fucking birth control (in a few days) because they’re insisting I should have extra fucking bottles of each one and I DONT because they don’t let me pick up more than a one month supply of narcotics at a fucking time so do explain where these extra bottles are, hmm ????? and they didn’t have enough caplyta ordered last time to even give me my usual 3 months supply of that so … ???? get your fucking heads out of your asses and give me the fucking meds you owe me ??? like ??? but I’m in a nasty headspace right now so if I call the pharmacy this morning, I’m going to be that cunt ass customer they bitch about all day because this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. in fact, the first time, they straight up committed insurance fraud by marking one of my scripts as filled and picked up WHEN, IN REALITY, THEY FUCKING LOST THE SCRIPT AND HAD NO RECORD OF IT BEING FILLED OR PICKED UP IN THEIR SYSTEM, BUT YET, MARKED IT AS SUCH AND CHARGED MY INSURANCE AN ALMOST 8 GRAND FOR THE FUCKING 3 MONTHS OF MY MOOD STABILIZER THAT I. NEVER. RECEIVED. I’m genuinely about to report this entire pharmacy to the pharmacy board because I’m so fucking done with this place. it needs to be shut the fuck down because you’re telling me, out of an entire pharmacy, y’all share the same IQ point AND dead brain cell, collectively ??? then don’t fucking work in healthcare where people rely on you to know your shit and keep track of their fucking meds because you’re just constantly making shit worse on people since you can’t seem to not fuck around with these meds and not ‘lose’ scripts. fuck out of here.

and I’m pretty much out of weed, which is usually my back up pain management method, without the money to afford a delivery order by their cut off time to order in 3 hours because I just paid my fucking bills and have SOME to go towards it, but not enough for delivery to be free, and I’d still have to walk my ass to one of the ATM’s nearby because they don’t accept my bank as a prepaid method OR any of the cards I have on my person. 🫠

I can literally feel my back spasming and seizing on and off while I’m laying on my fucking side, I’ve had a migraine with a stupid ass aura for almost a week now because chronic migraines fucking suck and i was REALLY hoping this one would be over by now, my muscle inflammations that my pain meds are supposed to limit are already beginning to start their itching deep in my muscles so soon they’ll blossom into a whole fibromyalgia fucking episode and become entirely inflamed, my joints in my hands fucking hurt because of the dreary weather so I really need to get into a rheumatologist at some point soon as well and get that shit figured out, I’m nauseas as fuck from all the pain, and I’m moody, hormonal, and just feel like fucking death physically.

I’m just. I give up.

this shit is exhausting and painful and so mentally fucking taxing to constantly deal with and I just want a fucking break from all this fucking shit. I wish I could just … not exist … for even just a little while with how fucking painful existing actually feels right now 🫠😭

[fingertipsmp3]

I’m always so fascinated by people’s bad roommate stories. I’m not sure I’ll ever live with someone I haven’t vetted extensively beforehand ever again

[sonknuxadow]

NOOOOOO i caved and decided i would just buy the lps from the target website anyway and they decided to go out of stock as i was about to check out. throws up

[didnt-hear-cold-as-you-live]

I can’t believe I own a car in Australia I have a tax number and a CAR and a bank and a phone number and I WOW it’s almost like I’m a real person who lives here

[keeps-ache]

standing here in my star-patterned bathrobe holding a stylus while inscribing something onto my computer. it's wizard time baby