#and have actual friends and a social life

[unpopularly-opinionated]

Almost every week, for the last maybe 2-2 1/2 years or so, I (27) have been going out to different bars with the same group of people, all of whom are at least twice my age or more and I honestly couldn’t recommend it more for younger people.

I mean to get the bad aspects out of the way upfront, I did (and sometimes still do) have a minor insecurity about being the “annoying child of someone in the group that everyone has to pretend to tolerate”. My stepdad is the one who initiated the hangouts originally, and I initially was just tagging along for free food and booze. No one’s ever done anything to make me feel that way mind you, they are always SUPER accommodating, almost too much sometimes. Sometimes they’ll straight up change topics if they’ve noticed I checked out because I wasn’t interested in what they were talking about. It’s just my own irrational insecurity that crops up from time to time. I also struggle sometimes with explaining this friendship to other people, often referring to them as “my stepdad’s friends” even though we’ve been out together so many times that I could and should very reasonably consider them my friends too. Again, this is a me thing, nothing against them.

We started out doing it with a purpose, we were doing bar trivia every week and having a blast. But over time, we grew kinda bored of the trivia, the format kinda changed, and it started pretty late into the evening, and we ultimately just realized that we actually were just cool hanging out and chatting without needing to have an excuse to be there.

But being the youngest among them, I just find them very interesting to talk to. They’re always talking about their jobs, the good, the bad, and the ugly of them all. Most of them are managers of several people, and they’re the type of managers who care more about their employees than the businesses, so I always feel like I’m hearing a fair assessment of whether an employee is being completely insane, or if the company is screwing them over somehow, or what not. And just how the working world works from their perspective. Not to mention how they got to where they’re at. One went to college and has a masters, one went to college but dropped out and taught himself to code, another just worked his way up from the bottom to the top (yes, they all work in the tech industry lol).

This isn’t even mentioning the fact that my grandfather is there with us as well, and he’s retired now but he had been an electrician for 60+ years prior, and being the oldest of our group, he has like a whole extra generation’s worth of experience to add to the mix too. It’s really great because it kind of adds that extra layer that makes me feel more comfortable in the group (like yeah, I’m the clueless youth compared to most of these guys, but they’re all youths to him too).

I can’t really explain it too well, but I feel like I just absorb life experience by hanging out with this group of people. It’s not all just work talk either, they talk about their personal hobbies, trips they’ve been on or are going on, their kids, food, alcohol, sports, politics, lots of politics, social media nonsense, etc. No one ever gets worked up over things, even when talking politics.

TL;DR: I recommend befriending people much older than yourself. It’s not creepy or weird, and you could learn a lot, even if you might not think so. Just sitting there and absorbing it all I think would benefit a lot of younger people.

I need you people to realize that you can be friends with people older than you. like, much older than you. like, decades older than you. you can be friends with these people. regular friends, just like anyone your age. it is possible.

[bruhstation]

hello tumbled er

greetings and salutation. it is I, senja heterocaine, speaking to you through your favorite home screens. now you might be wondering: where on earth has senja heterocaine disappeared to these past 5 months? well the answer is as simple as it gets

I focused on my studies.

well yes that is the main reason. but that's like the nerd "obvious" answer. there’s other reasons too. some of which includes me getting into new interests, revisiting my old, hibernating interests, getting involved in university organizations and events, getting more involved in big family stuff since I'm the oldest and the only of-age grandchild of grandma from mom's side.... lots of stuff

so I just finished the third semester of premed school right. honestly speaking, with how I was losing motivation on drawing, the art block post-art fight, and lack of time, I decided to well, take a break. and it’s pretty convenient too since it was early on in the third semester. during the entirety of it I was feeling pretty proud of myself like "oh I've been studying a lot. I've taken a break from drawing and blog stuff. surely things will get better" and it did! not immensely but it's significant enough that for once I don't feel an indescribable sense of terror after the semester ends. the focus of this semester was about reproduction systems and growth and development which is pretty fun? we get to use models and medical phantoms hands-on and poke them with needles and other rube goldberg contraptions. I did miss breeding bacterias in petri dishes and seeing my friends burn the microbiology lab’s ceiling like last semester though. my grades are also improving… slowly but surely

(aftermath not pictured: me lounging on the couch scrolling through quora to see if there are people currently in college wanting to drop out)

maybe I was aiming too high. at least my grades are better than the previous two semesters and my social life is much better than it was back in high school. speaking of exams -- I went through my first osce exam around a week ago (practical exam to see if you can actually perform the skills labs lessons from the entire semester like you're a real physician). it was the most terrifying day of the month. my dentist said I have a big tongue and that’s why I can’t speak properly if I’m being too fast. ntm I WAS NERVOUS!!! MY FIRST OSCE!!! with how I memorized everything I needed, I was pretty confident that I'd pass, though. I didn't and retook the exam the next day. the prelude was the worst crash out ever

ah ptooey. I'll just take it like a champ. my tutor who's 3 years older than me and currently in the anesthetic rotation of co-ass told me that things will get easier but that's very subjective. he's a medical olympiad student after all. my parents are pretty happy though with how my academic life is becoming better so that's that

LETS MOVE ON TO SOMETHING LIGHTER. section B: what I've been getting into ever since bruhstation was put on cryostasis

you know Transformers One (2024)? the transformers movie directed by josh cooley? based on the Transformers(tm) franchise by Takara Tomy and Hasbro? most tragic break up movie of the decade? I watched it twice, squealed once, and left me broken and inconsolable for weeks on end. it made me revisit my dormant transformers interest after 5 years. I've reread the idw comics (mtmte, LL, taao, main transformers comic), and is currently checking out more (reading the wreckers saga right now). god it made me miss rodimus and friends' zany space opera adventures. I've always envisioned casa tidmouth to have the same tone as mtmte... the oftentimes dark humor, fridge horror stuff, weird magic/science, the roller coaster of emotions, confronting the past... its crazy good.

stories where misfits and knuckleheads band together in a confined space while having crazy doctor who-like adventures am I right. like I want casa tidmouth to be like that. remind me to thank 14 year old me for this trip down memory lane. and as usual, I tend to make self-indulgent crossovers of any interest I'm thinking about at the moment with casa tidmouth

a terrifying sneak peak on what's to come.

I've been working on my oc projects too. you may have seen some of them on artfight (graciela, saudade, altair, etc) but I've been focusing the most on graciela and saudade's universe, children's heterotopia. it has the largest amount of characters in any story I've created (not counting casa tidmouth), the most effort put into planning the stories and weaving in its themes about capitalism, patriarchy, period-typical bigotry, etc. there's human experimentation and they're given powers that range from punching super hard to time and space displacement. I also inserted whatever I wanted into the story. sure, yes, there's a lesbians-only organization of which its members are named off the knights of the round table, theres a mafia that focuses more on the family drama and attempted parricide from all angles, and tragic assassin maids of which their names are wuthering heights references. also if you've been following my main tumblr hajimedics for a while, you might've seen my three fairly oddparents ocs. well I've given them the tezuka star system treatment and inserted them into children's heterotopia as well.

I've also gotten into UTAU production! I've made a number of UTAU covers but haven't uploaded them to youtube. only shared them around with my friends on priv twitter. a good friend of mine assisted in the creation of my own UTAU voicebank! their name is TORKA (like "torque"), their voice bank has a slight accent when singing in japanese (because I'm their voice lol) and CV-only, their in-universe lore is that they're an intergalactic train conductor picking up wayfarers and outcasts trying to find a place in the vast universe, and I love them dearly

moving on! this is a thomas the engine and company blog THIS IS A LIFE UPDATE POST

I'd rather not discuss about how I'm doing mentally in deep detail BUT what I'll say is that I can't confidently say "I'm doing better" or "I'm doing worse" because it always depends on the days. things are okay-ish nowadays. some days are scary. some days are boring. I still experience delusions, (ironically) worried about my anhedonia, and believe that certain bouts of confidence will trigger a jinx, but I think I've been controlling myself well? at least? I keep internalizing the belief that I'm an adult. 20 years old. I have to act accordingly and my life in real life is ten times more important than the internet. things are going to change more and more once I graduate premed and began the co-ass program. I have to think 10 steps into the future. building successful connections before you turn 30. sigma grindset and all that. sorry that was my father using my body as a spirit medium

AND ALSO. ALSO. BACK TO THE BLOG DO YOU GUYS REMEMBER THAT ONE TIME I PROMISED TO MAKE A COMIC BASED ON THE RESULTS OF THE 1000 FOLLOWERS POLL AND NEVER DID UNTIL NOW. I'm terribly sorry. I promise I will get into it I SWEAR procrastination is kicking my ass. I have to plan the dialogue and script and stuff AND DRAW BUT

BUT HERE’S THE FUNNY THING

THE BLOG REACHED 2000+ FOLLOWERS A FEW MONTHS AGO

NOW WHAT DO I DO TO CELEBRATE?

I don’t know honestly. I haven’t done the 1000+ followers celebratory comic, and NOW I HAVE 2000+ FOLLOWERS. THERES 2000+ OF YOU NOW!!!!! THAT’S CRAZY (IN A GOOD WAY)!!!! I thank you all for sticking with bruhstation through thick and thin for around 2 and a half years. I’m glad for all your support, fanarts, asks, and such truly. like wow. 2k. in such a short time too! thanks guys. admittedly, I feel kind of guilty to leave everyone hanging for months with nothing to give, especially with such a high follower number. and realistically? I don’t think I’ll be able to draw as much as I used to. like I’ve said earlier, I’ve been busy with my personal life and oc projects. it’s not like I’m abandoning this blog any time soon? I’m just speaking from a logical perspective, given my status as a student and (possibly, hopefully) future doctor too. I don't want to burn myself out posting like thrice a week, answering asks daily, I want to take things slow. at my own pace. maybe I'll focus on designing side characters as well and thinking about their roles in the story! but that's for another day. I’m just glad everyone’s still sticking around and enjoying my silly stuff

I do want to draw more for this blog! I want to put thomas and co. in more situations. make them dance for all our entertainments. but when you’re an adult, you realize that you have your own priorities. you can’t always do the things you wanna do. you can’t just drop something you don’t like out of the blue. sometimes you have to sigh, scratch the back of your neck, and brave it while saying “I sure am getting old”

oh and also I'm a butch lesbian now. still he/they (heavy preference on he/him), still preferring masculine terms like "mr", "sir", "guy", still as crazy as ever. still aroace too and not interested in dating, something that's been a constant in my identity ever since I'm in early high school. little have changed I can assure you this. I am still senja. senja heterocaine from the net.

and thus concludes senja’s life update post! what will the next post after this be about? something gordon-centric again? serious colored art? old men yaoi? silent hill UK localization? place your bets. everyone loves a good laugh

[katsu28]

the way you love

pairing: george russell x reader

summary: loving george russell is as easy as breathing sometimes, especially with the way he loves you. loosely inspired by stardust by zayn. (2.8k)

a/n: welcome to the first of four holiday fics! i'm hoping to post one a day until christmas eve, so stay tuned :)

Maybe you should’ve waited inside for George to pick you up. 

Granted, you haven't been out here long, and you know he’ll be here soon, but it’s cold. Frigid wind whips your hair around your face, scraping over your skin harshly. 

You nuzzle a little deeper into your scarf in a poor attempt to protect your cheeks. 

The two cardboard cups clutched in your hands do help a little with the biting cold. One for you, one for George, both filled to the brim with steaming coffee from the little shop down the street from your building. 

They’ve rolled out their holiday cups today, as noted by the festive little scene printed across the sleeve. It makes you smile, and you think George will probably like it too. 

George’s sleek car pulls up in front of you with a gentle rumble not long later. You’re expecting him to be smiling when he gets out, but when his head pops over the roof of the car, he just looks concerned. 

“Blimey, have you been waiting out here the entire time?” He exclaims incredulously, rounding the front of the car quickly. 

You barely have time to nod before he’s easing the cups out of your grip. Only once they’re secured into cup holders inside the car does he grab your hands, bringing them up to his mouth to breathe a little warmth back into them. 

“Didn’t want you to have to wait on me,” You say, as if it’s any excuse to have been standing in the freezing cold. Really, you just wanted to see George as soon as he came to pick you up. You’ve just seen him only last week, but it feels like forever. 

“Darling, it’s freezing,” He reasons. He’s smiling now, despite the attempt to keep his firm composure. 

You frown. “I missed you.”

He kisses you instead of answering, short and sweet, but still bursting with affection. 

“Hi,” You say softly, nuzzling deeper into his broad palm after he pulls back an inch or two. His thumbs swipe over your cheeks, bringing some more much needed heat back into your skin. You won’t tell him, but your nose had been starting to lose a bit of feeling. 

“Hi. I missed you too,” He replies, fondness dripping from his tone. 

“Yeah?” 

“Of course. Longest five days of my life.”

That makes you grin even harder, pushing forward for another quick kiss. “Mine too.”

“Glad we feel the same.” He looks very pleased. “Shall we get a move on? We’re a little early, but I know how much you hate being late to things. I even told Alex to expect us early.” 

You’re set to head to Alex Albon’s Christmas party in a little bit. George goes every year, but this is the first time you’re going too. You’re excited, nervous, and a little bit scared at the prospect of finally getting to meet all of George’s friends at one time. You've met a handful of them individually, gradually, George happily introducing you as his girlfriend every time, but never in such a large social setting like this party. 

You aren’t quite sure what to expect, but if the ones you haven’t met are anything like the ones you have, you’ll be just fine. 

“And what did he say about that?” 

“That Lily is relieved someone competent is coming round to help out, so I’d say he’s pretty okay with it,” George says, chuckling. “C’mon, let's get you out of the cold.” 

You allow George to help you into the car, letting out a comfortable sigh at the blazing warmth of the car interior. George has always liked to keep your shared spaces running hot despite your wishing for the opposite, but for the first time ever, you’re actually grateful for your boyfriend’s temperature preference. 

“Nice, isn’t it?” He teases as he climbs into the driver’s seat, nudging at your shoulder. “See, I told you you’d come around someday.” 

“Only because it’s cold as shit outside,” You huff, rolling your eyes playfully. “I got you coffee.” 

“Thank you, darling. Though I wish you hadn’t sacrificed your health to do so.”

“I know you had another late night yesterday, thought you might be tired. It’s fine, really, I didn’t mind,” You insist, shaking your head. 

“You’re very sweet,” George says softly, leaning over the center to press a kiss to your cheek. 

You’re not sure what comes over you, but you turn at the last moment so he catches your lips instead. He lets out a noise of surprise, but has no hesitation in kissing you back happily, slipping a hand around the back of your neck to pull you closer. 

You kiss and kiss and kiss until your lips start to tingle, and even then, you’re reluctant to pull away. There’s something intoxicating about kissing George that makes you want to do it forever. 

“If we stay here any longer, we might actually end up being late,” George murmurs. He blinks at you, long lashes fluttering open and shut slowly. His breath fans across your skin on every exhale, cologne invading your senses until all that surrounds you is him. 

“That would be bad.” 

“Mm, awful,” He agrees. Still, he doesn’t make any attempt to pull away, perfectly content here, hiding away with you in the coziness of your close proximity. His nose drags along your cheek, lips following the path until he reaches the corner of your mouth. 

You exhale shakily. “Alex and Lily are expecting us.” 

“They are.”

“So we should go.” 

“I mean, we don’t have to…” George trails off, letting his head tilt to the side. 

“Yes, we do. Someone roped us into helping with party prep.” 

He sighs rather heavily, handsome features screwing into overdramatic annoyance. “Starting to regret that right about now.” That makes you giggle. “Alright, fine. Let’s get this over with so we can go home.” 

“There’s that holiday spirit!” 

The drive over to Alex’s is fairly short. It actually takes more time to make yourselves presentable and not at all like you’ve just been making out in the car, before making your way up to Alex and Lily’s. George has brought presents for both of your friends—a watch for Alex and a bottle of perfume for Lily, he’d informed you in the elevator, bought by him, but a gift from the both of you. 

The door swings open with a blast of music and the smell of something delicious not seconds after you knock. Alex stands just behind it with a gracious smile on his face and a flute of something bubbly in hand. 

“Hi, welcome—oh, thank god you’re here,” He breathes. Then he stops, stares at the two of you for a few moments, as if he’s studying the both of you. A knowing smirk quirks his lips right after. “George, you’ve got lipstick on your chin, mate.” 

George’s hand flies up to his face, rubbing furiously. His cheeks have flushed an embarrassed pink at his friend’s smug observation. 

“I’m just kidding. But it was funny to see you panic,” Alex snickers. 

“Ha ha, hilarious. Maybe I won’t give you this gift after all.” 

Alex takes both boxes eagerly, tucking them under his arm with a wink. “Come on in, friends.” 

The flat is decorated tastefully—festive, but not gaudy. You assume Lily had done most of the decor rather than Alex.

Speaking of—

“You’re here!!! Thank god!” Lily exclaims, barely paying George any mind before she whisks you away, chattering away immediately, wanting your opinions on everything from the appetizers to the seating arrangements at dinner. You cast a helpless glance over your shoulder at your boyfriend, who merely gives you an amused wave back. 

You do what Lily tells you needs finishing up until the rest of the guests start to make their arrival. Most of the other drivers are in attendance, save for a few who’d opted to spend the holidays home with their families. Charles and Carlos are here, Lando and Oscar, Yuki, Pierre, Zhou and Franco, to name a few. 

The bundle of nerves in your chest starts to unravel as more familiar faces trickle in, and you’re able to catch up with a couple of them. You’re chatting with Kika and Pierre about what’s new with Simba when a hand touches the small of your back. 

Instantly, you know it's George. His touch is the only one that sends butterflies through you. That’s never happened with anyone else before, but with George, you feel alight with a certain energy every time. 

You lean back into him on instinct, tilting your head up to look at him. His cheeks are slightly rosy, hair still perfectly coiffed, save for one curl that has escaped to hang over his forehead. You reach up to brush it back and he smiles, sliding a hand around your waist. 

“So sorry to interrupt, you lot. Just wanted to pop in and see if anybody needed a refresher on their drinks,” He offers, though his gaze rests solely on you. 

“Thank you, but we’re good, mate,” Pierre replies, as Kika shakes her head to decline too. 

George says your name, lips lifting into a small smile as he juts his chin at your nearly empty glass. 

“Thank you, Georgie,” You say gratefully. “Don’t forget to—”

“Make it sweeter? Yes, I know how you take your drinks, darling,” He hums, kissing your cheek quickly before retreating with your glass. 

“You’ve trained him well,” Pierre teases, winking at you. 

“I think he was born that way,” You admit. 

That isn’t a lie. According to George’s sister, who you’d had the pleasure of meeting a few months back, he'd always been very kind, very caring, even when he was young. It’s one of the many qualities of his that has you falling in love with him a little more with every passing day. 

George leaves you to your own conversations after bringing you your drink, but you see him periodically throughout the night. He always looks like the life of the conversation, talking animatedly, listening with rapt attention when he’s not yapping away. 

Even as he’s listening intently, it’s like he can sense you’re looking at him, because he finds you almost instantly, sending a smile or a wink your way. That’s another lovable quality of his—knowing where you are even when he’s not with you. Like you’re two magnets being pulled towards each other at all times.

The more you chat with everyone else, one thing becomes obvious. George talks about you a lot. Not enough to be obnoxious, but he's mentioned you to many of his friends. 

Charles knows you’ve been looking into learning how to play the piano because George had asked him something about which pianos were the best. Yuki offers up a few cooking tips because George had mentioned you wanted to try your hand at a new dish. Lewis congratulates you on a big project you’d finished at work a while back, telling you that George had been singing your praises in the garage right after you'd called. 

If you look back at it, George has always been one of your biggest supporters. 

Always wanting you to call him whenever something big happens because he can’t be there all the time, always doing things for you when he’s away so you never for a moment feel like he's not thinking of you. Sending you flowers, ordering you food from your favorite spot in Monaco even though he's a thousand miles away because he knows it’ll make you smile. Even just texting you a picture of something he saw that made him think of you. 

George makes you feel so, so loved, all the time. Like, wherever you are in the world, no matter, everything will be okay because you’ve got him. You could be on some far off deserted island in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the land to live off of, but if George is there with you, it wouldn’t be all that bad. 

Sometimes you wonder what your life would’ve been like if you’d never met him, but you never get far with those thoughts. You can’t even imagine what life would look like without George Russell. And honestly, you don’t really want to. 

“Ready to head out?” George’s voice draws you out of your thoughts, and when you refocus, he’s right in front of you, holding out your coat. For a moment, you can only stand there, blinking back at him like you’ve just laid eyes on him for the first time ever. 

He falters a little under your intense staring. “Darling? Are you alright? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” 

“Sorry, yeah. I’m fine, I’m just…tired, I think.” 

“Let’s go home then. Stay the night at mine?” 

“Duh,” You say. Your obvious tone makes George chuckle a little bit as he helps you slip into your coat.

“How silly of me to even ask.”  

After finding your hosts to thank them for the great evening and subsequently being invited for a game of doubles padel with them one of these days, you're off. 

“I don’t have any skin cleanser,” You say suddenly, just as George has pulled onto the main road.

“What?” 

“At your place. I don’t have my cleanser, the one I always use before bed.” 

“The one in the little green bottle?” 

“Yeah.” You frown, slumping back in your seat. In hindsight, it’s really not the biggest deal in the world, and you’re not sure why you’re making it one. But for some reason right now, you’re focused on it. 

“Lucky for you, your wonderful boyfriend bought a bottle just in case this happened. He figured you’d probably forget it one of these days.” 

“Is there a reason my wonderful boyfriend is referring to himself in the third person?” You giggle, shifting in your seat to face said thoughtful boyfriend. George’s cheeks are flushed a little pink. 

“Yeah, I thought it was a little weird too. Anyways, there’s a bottle in the bathroom cupboard.” 

“Thank you, Georgie. You’re always so thoughtful.” 

“Y’know, you could just move in with me. That way you won’t have to worry about not having things at mine anymore.” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road as he speaks, but you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows nervously. “You’ve already got loads of stuff there anyways, why not just bring it all? You wouldn’t have to drive across the city every time you come over, for one.” 

“I barely drive to yours anyways, you know. You always insist on picking me up,” You tease. George smiles, but you can tell he’s serious about wanting you to move in with him. You sigh, squeezing his hand. “Babe, I’d love nothing more, but…I could never afford to live with you.”

“I’m not going to have you pay rent or anything like that, darling. I wouldn't ask that of you.” George’s nose wrinkles, like it’s absurd of you to even think about it. “Just your company would be more than enough, honestly. Make the place less empty, more like…home.”

You can already imagine it. Falling asleep next to each other every night, waking up tangled together every morning, getting to come home and unwind with each other after long days. Breakfasts and afternoon teas and dinners you’d make together in George’s massive kitchen. Your stuff mingling with his in every room of the place. 

Maybe you’d adopt a pet together one day, one that could keep you company every time George was away for races. 

“Okay,” You say softly. You’ve already convinced yourself. “Let’s live together.” 

George pulls to a stop at the red light, taking the opportunity to lean over into your space and kiss you gently. “Let’s do it, darling.” 

Taking the next step in your relationship seems daunting, but George will be there to soothe any anxieties you have. He always is. 

“Oh no! We forgot about the coffee.” He frowns, plucking the still full cup out of the holder suddenly. Then he shrugs, taking a giant sip of it. “Cute cup.” 

“George, it’s cold!” You exclaim, tugging at his sleeve. “Just throw it out when we get home.”

“It tastes fine!” 

“It’s probably stale.” 

“I think it’s delicious.” 

“You’re so weird.” 

He chooses to ignore the muttered quip, letting a giant grin stretch his lips instead, eyes gleaming with excitement. “You called it home.” 

“Well, it is now, isn’t it? Or will be soon enough.” 

“Sure will. I’m thinking we move you in tomorrow.” 

You chuckle, shaking your head at his enthusiasm. “I have to get out of my lease first. It might take a while too, my landlord is kind of an asshole.” 

“I’ll give him double whatever you’re paying right now to let you out of it early. No, triple.” 

“I don’t think he’d appreciate bribery, but he is a Mercedes fan.” 

“Paddock passes and VIP club access to Monaco next season, done.”

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new writing :)

[frys-the-cat]

Aight, here are op's tags but not in an image

#and before one of u is like " i have no friends :(" i used to be there too actually #abusive partner cut me off from ALL of 'em. i didn't think i was lovable #it made me EXCEPTIONALLY shy. i still am actually!!!! #i just ... started saying "yes." #i would take pictures of flyers in my library and go to whatever events they had #i started taking community classes #if someone mentioned like "i am gonna start x group" i actually took a deep breath #and approached them to be like. okay i want in. #i started making the first move with new people - a small compliment #a smile or a little joke. just to share the space with them. #i have MASSIVE social anxiety. bad parent and bad relationship will do that to ya. #but i just... kept going. and going. and going. to each of these little things. and then... #like..... idk i just am very blessed. i have a STUPID number of friends #a lot of which i reconnected with. bc it turns out love is never wasted. adult life just. #like. gets in the way. but also... i loved u as a weird little kid. i love u now as a weird big adult. #i promise i PROMISE ur friends are out there. u just have 2 find them. and btw #i didn't make friends with everyone. but i did get a lot of people to smile or laugh. #aint that something. #this process took me something like 2 years. it was HARD!!!!!!!!!! #i love u!!! hard things are often worth it!!!

having good & true friends will literally save and protect you in a million unfathomable ways. like okay we have written so many times about lovers. but the way a platonic friend laughs and cries with you. the way they hold your hand at 14 years old and at 34. the way they keep a little silver tie to you, touching base over and over and over. how you can go years without talking, only to re-meet and discover: oh shit! you're still cool!

there are people who have been in my life for more than half of it, and i have loved every version of them. do you know how fucking beautiful that is. yeah love will save the world. but the way friends love you is gonna save the you.

[v1rtualsalvat10n]

𓆩♡𓆪 for the first time

�� luigi thinks of you in his cell. that's it that's the fic.

notes :: thank you for all the support to show my appreciation i would like to throw a rusty screwdriver into your hearts i love u guys!!

The thing they don't tell you about prison is that it's really cold.

No, seriously. It's really fucking cold, even here in NYC where it's already cold to begin with - it's like you're in the back of a deep freezer in a shitty jumpsuit, because you kind of are. It's cold enough that I have to curl up into a ball on my "bed", knees to my chest in order to try and stay warm.

And because I have nothing to do, I find myself staring at the white, emotionless wall, and doing that sort of thing is kind of a surefire way to get your mind to wander. One of the tried and true methods, if you will.

It's lonely here. Sure, the inmates like me, they're nice, but I mean... I'm not really in the mood to socialize with anyone. This whole ordeal has sucked the energy out of me. I've been being thrown around the country for days, ever since they found me.

I don't even want to think about what's happening outside of this place, either. I'm sure people have lots of thoughts and things to say about what I did.

I wonder if she saw it.

The news, I mean. Of course she saw it, who didn't? I bet her and all my old classmates and friends are probably talking about it, about me, what I'd done - right now. Trying to pick apart my motive, maybe grieving about the life I'd thrown away. Guess I had a lot ahead of me.

Can't help but wonder what she's thinking. I wonder if she's disappointed in me. Or maybe proud. Why am I thinking so much about what she thinks of me? It was one fling, from ages ago, I can't even remember when... at one of countless parties, and yet I still see how she looked underneath me so clearly.

It wasn't really just a fling. I talked to her about it - about how the system was falling apart (if it was ever together to begin with) and I felt the need to put all this privilege I'd been granted to good use. How I felt like I had to do something. She told me about herself, too, how she'd been fucked over time and time again and how she knew countless others who felt the same way.

Actually, yeah, we spent a lot of time together, thinking back on it. She'd come over on those cold winter nights I remember so fondly and we'd keep warm together, whatever way we could find. She was kind of... below me, I guess. Lower class. Not that I cared that much, though. Didn't make her any less of a lover.

And then I went radio silent. Then I figured out exactly what that thing I had to do was, and I put all my effort towards it. I didn't have time for love anymore. I had to take the chance I'd been given and fix things.

So I started leaving her on seen, stopped answering my door, even when she'd yell that she knew I was there, stopped showing up at the places I'd loved before, I stopped everything. Dropped off the map and left nothing but a ghost in my place.

She probably hates me.

I'd like to think that maybe this brings her solace... that maybe the idea that "it wasn't because you did something wrong" made her feel better, but I doubt it does.

When I get out of here, if I even do, she'll probably have forgotten all about me, because everybody forgets. I'll be old news by the time that day comes, and everything we did, everything we wanted to do - would just be a hazy memory.

I still remember seeing her for the first time. I remember the way her eyes pierced through my soul, and I remember how it made me feel inside.

I wonder if she remembers that too.

[reidingandallthat]

rambling just to you (s.r)

spencer thinks you mind his rambling, and you tell him just how wrong he is

spencer reid x reader words: 2.4k cw: fluff, uhh first time writing for spence so pls spare me, lots and lots (too much) infodumping, reader is described kind of as a social person and a people pleaser, self deprecating talk(just for a while, it gets all good)

You've taken it upon yourself your entire life to keep a conversation going. Maybe the other person doesn't wanna talk, but it's too awkward to not say anything so you keep the conversation going. Maybe you haven't talked in a while, or maybe they're giving you dry responses, you still go off on a story of yours, only to a limit of course, to not make it weird. 

You've always felt like you trained yourself to be interesting or funny so the other person isn't bored. You don't resent it. It's made you a fun person, good to be around, and you quite enjoy it. But sometimes, it's nice to only laugh, or listen. To not have to constantly search your brain for references, or for a further punchline, or a teasing remark. But you attract what you give, so you make yourself content in talking. To enjoy making other people laugh, it's nice, to see someone smile and laugh over what you say but that tiny inkling in your heart always stays.

But life never presents you things you prepare yourself for. 

And that's exactly what happens when you walk through the doors of the BAU office, prepared for anything they might have for you. But oh you were so unprepared.

He was already so noticeable with his doe eyes and curious gaze. He offers his hand to you, introducing himself as “Dr. Spencer Reid,” and you notice curious glances on you both. Emily Prentiss- who is now one of your best friends, shared a knowing look with Penelope, the technical analyst. You didn't know then, but the grin on her face was of someone who had already made a thousand plans in her head regarding her friends.

You only give him a curt smile and go to the conference room.  JJ gave everyone the profile as was the usual, but it's your first day so you only follow their lead at first. Hotch gets up from his seat with a “Wheels up in 30”, which left you a bit confused, but you deciphered from context it meant as a sign to get going. Soon you're all in the jet, everyone provides their input and you chime in when needed, unsure of when to speak up. But when you notice something important, you finally speak up,

“One of the victims said that he was given ‘medicine’ by the unsub when he was sick, later we found cocaine in his blood. He believes cocaine can cure colds, maybe he's thinking through the Victorian era.” You say, looking over the case file.

Everyone shares puzzled looks, surprised by your comment,

“How are those things related? Were the Victorians always doing cocaine or something?” Derek asks, and everyone's attention is on you.

“Well, no. It was prescribed as medicine.” Your answer doesn't help, it only causes their faces to look more confused.

Suddenly conscious of all the attention on you, a little bit of nervousness kicks in, but you open your mouth to speak when you're interrupted by the only person who doesn't look puzzled, more like…excited?

“Yeah! Cocaine wasn't known as a drug back then, they thought it had medicinal properties, and it does, but they didn't know its actual use. It was prescribed for hay fever, asthma and even melancholy,” He chuckles a little, taking a breath before continuing.

Everyone's looking at him now, confused, exasperated, and a little bit curious but not enough, you could tell. You tilt your head in amusement, very endeared by his excitement because you get it, you get his excitement to share it. Maybe another time you would've been offended if someone interrupted you, but how could you complain? He was so nice to look at!

“Drugs were also present in a children's medicine that was advertised as a remedy to quiet crying and fussing children, it was fairly popular because well- it worked,”

“Morphine.” You interrupt him. 

Now everyone's attention was on you. 

“The children's medicine had morphine in it.” You elaborate yourself, looking around at everyone but settling your gaze on Spencer, at last.

He gives you a smile, nods accompanying it as he looks around to his co-workers, agreeing to your comment. You smile, grateful to him for this moment. It's not much, but it helps with fitting into the group that's foreign to you.

Hotch breaks the silence as he always does, with facts about the case but at that moment, you two share a look. 

It hadn't meant much back then to you, but now it holds the most love because it reminds you of your everyday life. You had stopped trying to keep up with Spencer, with his random history, philosophy, mathematical, scientific and facts about obscure foreign films that now you just listen to him tell you about them. 

You've learnt more since you've met him than you have your entire life. You enjoyed learning, and it was just all the more enjoyable when he was the one talking. You always say how nice it would've been if you knew him during your masters, your degree would've been much more bearable.

But he was here now, and it's just like everyday, or as daily as it could be without the two of you rushing out the door because of a call.

You're making eggs and he's drinking his coffee, his mouth constantly moving, rambling about Greek myths that he had read last night. Naturally, you asked what he had read and of course, he was perfectly content to indulge you,

“You know Arachne was a weaver. She was better than most and she was prideful and arrogant in her talent. She started bragging about how she could weave better than the gods. So Athena decided to challenge her, but she lost. But things didn't go very well for Arachne either.” He stops for a sip of his coffee.

You don't need to ask, because he will continue soon enough, but you do it anyway, “Why not?”

“Well…” He says with a smile on his face, “Athena came down as an old woman to teach her to be respectful to the gods. But Arachne didn't listen. So in a fit of rage, Athena turned Arachne into a spider. But,”

Spencer takes a pause for dramatic effect and you chuckle, placing his breakfast plate in front of him, giving him a peck on his lips and sitting down on the couch, your legs draped over his lap, “Athena didn't take her powers, Arachne still was the best weaver.”

“So what? Now Arachne was just this spider weaver creature..??” You ask in confusion, rubbing your eyes which were still laden with sleep.

“Yes!!!” He says, excitedly, “Every spider you see weaves a web. Her curse was she will never be human, but she will still be a weaver. That's why spiders weave webs.”

Safe to say, your jaw was left hanging as he came to the end of the story, “That's the story? Oh my god.” 

He laughs at your incredulity and you swat him playfully, a teasing gesture, “You're getting good at this, the storytelling was-,”. You gesture a chef's kiss and he laughs again, a melodic sound to your ears.

“Why? My storytelling wasn't good before?” He asks, continuing your teasing banter. He had learned over the years to keep up with it, to hear you tease him even if it flustered him. It's always there, passing comments, enough to get him red and smile at you dopily, but he knows it's not as it used to be. You don't do it as often now, and sometimes he thinks it's because you're tired of his ramblings. He worries that he  doesn't give you enough space to be yourself, or maybe he takes up too much of the time, maybe he should give you the opportunity to talk first.

“No, handsome. I love hearing you talk.” Your words are an opposite to his thoughts but it doesn't do much to calm down his running thoughts. He's suddenly somber now, his mind plagued with insecure thoughts so he thinks to let you initiate the next sentence, the next story or the next fact. Anything.

But you're quiet for a while, waiting for him to tell you something. A few minutes pass by and you ask him again,

“I didn't read the one about Perseus, only skimmed it over, will you tell me?” You ask him, this thing routine to you, to ask questions he’s always happy to answer, drawing circles on his wrist and he thinks of it as a ruining action. It is such a specific memory, your fingers drawing sceneries on his wrist that he curses his eidetic memory. He couldn't keep this memory if you're not with him to do it again. But he couldn't help it, so he said quietly, “No, tell me about you.”

The question is confusing to you, 

“Spence, you know I don't like to talk much in the morning.” You say, your fingers now tracing the lines of his palm, your eyes focused on where your fingers move, pressing a kiss to his shoulder distractedly.

“I-” He sighs, setting down his coffee and running a hand over his face before leaning his head towards your shoulder.

“But I always ramble, and not only in the morning. You should be able tell me things too.”

“I do tell you, I tell you everything that I know about Spence. I know that I've told you that story about my grandmother at least four times now, and I always remember that after I've told you, but you never do. You just…listen, even though you probably remember every time I've told you.” You chuckle, a quiet fondness growing in your heart.

He smiles, remembering the story now. He remembers all the times you've said it to him, his favourite was the third time when you had realised halfway through and hid your face in his shoulder. 

“Yeah, but I talk too much. It's annoying. And it's boring. You can stop me if you want.” He says, his voice is quiet now, as if he knows he shouldn't say these things, he should know better than to speak like this around you, but he loves you. And he wants you to talk. 

Even though now, after a few moments out of his cycle of insecure thoughts, he realises he's wrong. You do talk to him. A lot. Everyday. Stories about your friends, how you saw a video about different types of plastic one day, how your most recent book had Greek gods, so he had taken it upon himself to read up on them. He can always tell when you have something new to tell him, there's a different shine to your eyes whenever you do. If he knows the topic, he shares your excitement, or catches up the next day. You talk to him everyday, and now he feels silly to have complained.

You turn to face him, making contact with his eyes, “No, it's not annoying. Nor is it boring. When did I ever say that?”

He tries to defend himself, “I know I ramble a lot, and you always listen. And I love you so much for it. But I don't want you to just not talk because of me. I don't wanna always take over the conversation.”

A smile graces your lips and he's more confused than ever, “Spence, listen,” You settle the coffee mug in your hand on the table and take his face into you hands,

“I like it when you ramble. I like listening to you talk, your ramblings are interesting to me. You don't think I wasn't interested in the Arachne the weaver story?” You say, and he smiles again. You're still not used to it, whenever he smiles. 

“Yeah, but you're not usually quiet around people-”

You cut him off, “I like listening to you Spencer. It's half the reason I fell in love with you. I like that I don't always have to be on my toes to keep up a conversation, that sometimes, I can just talk, or not talk, it doesn't matter.” You say earnestly, trying to explain to him just how wrong he is about his assumption, how awful it is that he thinks you're annoyed.

“And I love your rambles. You think I would have known about the fact that caterpillars basically dissolve into liquid in the cocoon?” You say and he visibly perks up, a familiar excitement coursing his body,

“And-,” There's an inflection, showcasing his obvious excitement, “The only thing left are the so-called ‘imaginal discs’, groups of cells that contain all the information and the mechanism to turn that liquid into the various body parts of a butterfly; the same applies for other insects. and also,” He goes to continue,

“They retain memories through this process. I know. Because you told me. And because I love you.” He has that doe- eyed look again, the one you dread because it fills you with a kind of fondness that you can't quite contain. It makes you a bit animalistic, in a way where you want to pepper his face with kisses, to see his cheeks turn red and hear that wretched laugh again. You had told him that too, he called it cuteness aggression. It was a fitting name, you thought.

“I love you too.” He says, his lips not too far away before they connect, both your lips taste of coffee, and his is much sweeter than yours, but he doesn't complain, and neither do you, because why would you? You can feel him smiling again, and he breaks away to speak again,

“When a caterpillar forms,” You sense another ramble incoming so you kiss him again, but he continues, “the chrysalis dissolves, but not the tiny bits of butterfly,” interrupted by a kiss again, “those don't dissolve,” 

You sigh and put your foreheads together, “they just grow into butterflies.” You finish for him.

He would take that sigh another way if it wasn't you, another tease on his behalf, talking over your kisses as if he wasn't starved for them. 

“If this is your preferred way of shutting me up,” He says, now he's the one kissing you, “I'd be very glad to keep talking.” And you smile, despite the cold coffee on the table and the not-so-quiet morning, your heart feels warm and peaceful.

[allsadnshit]

Even after years of therapy I am still really learning how to be mad and actually act on it

I used to be super swift with the block button on all social media and for reasons I am not really sure of yet I stopped and started doing a sort of "I'm the bigger person for not cutting anything off all the way it shows I am chill and not bothered" type beat partially I think because of wanting to still have access to their accounts even if I didn't allow myself to look - and also I think because I have a bad habit of assuming the best of people but like not in a beautiful way more like I literally assume someone's sorry or still cares about me even when all their words and actions show the exact opposite

And I had a big cry this morning about trust and how I am realizing that although the work I've put in to repair my self trust has felt important and good - it's not everything. And the fact that to have a career, relationships, and freedom means I WILL have to interact and trust others means there will always be a huge variable I can't actually control no matter how much I heal myself or learn to have boundaries won't stop someone from hurting me even if I gain the ability to respond in a way that I'm proud of or is healthy

And after crying into my miso soup and rice with my husband I was like okay...I need to get real with myself. I need to stop making excuses for leaving the door open for people to intimately see my life. My ex best friends have no business liking my Instagram posts about my life and art like they really don't. And I keep the door opening hoping I'll get an apology or something and guess what? It doesn't come. Because I don't even truly treat them like they hurt me and aren't in my life. I try and keep all doors open and all it does and make me take it out on the people who want to be in my life now and that hurts ME.

So I went back and blocked everybody. YEARS late. They might not ever even notice! They might notice and not care! Doesn't really matter. I just knew the excuses I make for not expressing my anger are bad for me and if I want to open myself up to change I need to see these feelings through and not just wait for the anger to pass so I don't do anything "rash".

Anger, especially the kind that bubbles up again and again from the same place, is your soul pointing to a hole in the boat where water is getting in and sinking you! It's an alarm! And no matter how small the hole is or if someone else thinks "I wouldn't have taken it so personally" doesn't really matter in the end. It's your ship, and you're the one going down if it sinks. So if the alarms go off, don't take it lightly.

[anistarrose]

okay but in all seriousness: I keep thinking about switching these titles around. most of these have admittedly gotten away from "what if Maureen had gotten to know the other Birds," because that inherently implies some kind of canon divergence, but regardless:

stolen century titles to post-voidfishing titles:

the twins: the outcast, and the imprisoned flame. (I think they have to be separate titles, to differentiate from the Century. Taako as the loner, because he always has to keep moving, because he's lost even more homes than he realizes, and was forced into the shadows after Glamour Springs. Lup being trapped, alone because she can't move, confined to the cave as an entity that shouldn't even be able to be imprisoned.)

the lover: the hermit. (uniquely, representative of Barry both pre-mission and post-voidfishing. isolating himself in his lab to study, then isolating himself in his cave to search for Lup. existing outside of society by choice, and with a single-minded, downright reverent purpose, no matter how much he aches to be with others.)

the protector: the atoner. (much like "the protector," it can actually evoke multiple characters to highlight their parallels with Magnus. but most of all, it emphasizes Magnus's desperation to make up for failing to protect Raven's Roost, Steven, and Julia. to take the big hit for his friends, to kill Kalen, all are how Magnus tries to atone.)

the peacemaker: the runaway. (rather than make peace, Merle ran from the conflict in his life. in search of a change in scenery, he even ran from his children when they needed their father.)

post-voidfishing titles to stolen century titles:

the lonely journal keeper: the storyteller. (no longer lonely. storytelling is a social role, implying an audience, a conversation, a collaboration.)

the wordless one: the captain. (from passive, to active. from an identity in which Davenport had no choice, to the position he trained his whole life for. from an afterthought, to a leader.)

these are just my thoughts and first impressions overall, and I want to hear what other ideas people have, but. did you know I really really love The Crystal Kingdom

so when we look at the titles of the seven birds, Lucretia's and especially Davenport's stand out — The Lonely Journal Keeper, and The Wordless One. they're less applicable to the Stolen Century than the titles the other birds — Lucretia was always the journal keeper, of course, but back then, she was surrounded by family. you could possibly still characterize her as lonely in the last few years of the century, when her family rejected her plan (and that does provide some delicious angst), but that still doesn't explain Davenport. he wasn't "wordless" until the very end.

and the reason this jumps out at me is because for everyone else, almost the opposite is true: their titles fit their Stolen Century incarnations better than they fit our heroes post-Voidfishing. Taako does not have any idea that he's a twin. Barry is left alone with no one to love but memories of his absent family, and sometimes, he doesn't even have that. Magnus fails to protect Raven's Roost, and grapples with the guilt. Merle can't even make peace within his marriage, much less with an aspect of an eldritch force like John.

so this all feels like an odd discrepancy... until you realize that the Seven Birds prophecy came from Maureen. who knew Lucretia, and most likely Davenport too, in person after the Voidfishing — but never met any of the others, and only perceived them through the Cosmoscope in her dying moments. she described the five birds she didn't know as she saw them at their best, but the birds that she did know as she saw them last. it makes me wonder what she might've called the others, if she'd met them, too.

[immoral-stranger]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 // 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑. 💋 “I can get a little drunk, I get into all the don’ts but on good days I am charming as fuck.” – Tove Lo, Moments.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem! reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: None except alcohol and drunkenness.

A/N: Sike, you're getting the first letter tonight. It's cute as fuck. Dedicated to all my girlies (gn) who get Tove Lo drunk when aiming for Pitbull drunk.

Charles wasn’t sure why he had agreed to go out tonight. Monaco’s nightlife, as dazzling as it was, had become an overplayed record to him. Especially during the summer with all the tourists. He remembered being freshly turned 18 and discovering it (legally) for the first time. It had been magical. Now it was a done deal, a well-rehearsed story, knowing how it would go from beginning to end. Maybe that was why he actually preferred spending time on his yachts or on some small remote resort on some small remote island during his summer break from the racing calendar. 

Alas, here he was, tipsy from an overly sweet cocktail in a VIP booth at Jimmy’z. His friends were having fun, as were his friends’ friends and whoever else could get close enough to leech on, knowing that Charles was definitely the one paying the tab. It seemed to be the primary talent of those people, sticking close enough to the rich and the famous to get something for free out of it. 

Charles found it braindead. 

He sighed, swaying half-heartedly to the DJ’s relentless house music. Was he even a fan of house music? He didn’t think so. Between the thumping bass, the flashing strobe lights, and the endless game of shouting over the noise just to make small talk, Charles felt tired.

Maybe he was getting old. But he hadn’t even hit thirty yet. Could you have a quarter-life crisis at 27?

It got to the point where he started counting down the minutes until it would be socially acceptable to excuse himself for a “bathroom break.” The moment came, and Charles seized it, weaving his way through the dance floor. He lingered in the queue for the toilets longer than necessary, opting for a stall over a urinal so he could sit in peace. He didn’t even need to pee. He just wanted to be alone. His head was spinning slightly from the alcohol. Not drunk, not even close, but his famously rigorous fitness regimen had turned him into something of a lightweight. Not that he’d admit it.

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, he navigated the narrow corridor leading back to the main area of the club. That was when he felt it—a tug on his arm, insistent and clumsy. Before he could fully process what was happening, he was yanked backward and down onto a bench. Or a sofa. One of those little black pleather-clad, trashy club furnishings. 

For a fleeting moment, he considered all the reasons he hated being famous. Whatever was about to happen—selfies, autograph requests, or an inebriated declaration of undying love for Ferrari—he was sure it would test the limits of his patience.

“Hi!” a voice chirped. “Are you busy? No?”

He blinked. Sitting beside him was a girl—young and lively, a light shining in your eyes as you spoke excitedly. Or maybe just drunkenly. You had that half-glazed look of someone balancing precariously between charming and completely hammered. You spoke English. A tourist most likely. Dressed up nicely. Not like you had another choice. It was Monaco. 

As Charles was too shocked to answer, you continued talking in a heartbeat. 

“Great! Not busy.” You clasped your hands together as though you’d just agreed to the most wonderful thing in the world. “You…” you announced grandly, pointing at him, “are going to help… me.”

“I am?” Charles asked, caught between amusement and disbelief.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, as though this were obvious. You leaned heavily on Charles’ shoulder for support, your words tumbling out in a rush. “Okay, so. Here’s the situation: I lost my bag. Then I lost Emma while looking for my bag. And now—” you gestured dramatically, nearly toppling over even when sitting up—“I am stuck here. No bag, no Emma, and way, waaay too much tequila in my system.”

Charles stifled a laugh. “And you think I can help?”

“Of course!” You nodded vigorously. “If you find my bag and Emma, then this—” you gestured vaguely at yourself,—“this will no longer be a problem.”

“If I find your bag?” he found himself repeating. 

“Mhm, then you can come here to me again,” you slurred your speech a little, nodding again like your head was constantly stuck doing it. “With Emma and the bag and no problems.” 

“You can’t do it yourself?” 

“Exactly!” You pointed at him, impressed, narrowly avoiding touching his dimpled cheek with your long nail. “See, you get it. You’re a lifesaver.”

You seemed to have no idea who he was, and you were definitely drunker than you had first led on. He saw it in the way your body slumped and in your bloodshot eyes. Your hair was messy, your makeup smudged, and your dress a little wrinkled. And you were undeniably funny, totally capturing and taking over the conversation without letting Charles speak. 

He helped you to lean against the sofa, getting himself out from being your human crutch. Still, he couldn’t find a way out of being your lifesaver. 

“All right,” Charles sighed. “What does your bag look like?”

“It’s black, sparkly, and small. Like… impossibly small. A wallet with delusions. But I bought it in Paris—”

“Okay, I got it.” Charles suppressed a smile. “And Emma?”

“Tall. Blonde. Looks like she’s judging everyone but will absolutely cry over a military homecoming.”

“Right. Tall, blonde, and emotionally complex. Got it,” he repeated. “Are you sure I can leave you on your own?” 

Charles stood from the sofa, glancing at you as you leaned your head back against the wall, your eyes fluttering closed.

“I’m fiiiiine. I just need the room to stop spinning.”

For a moment, he hesitated. Enthralled by your giggle and the way you looked sort of fairy-esque with glittery eyeshadow in patches around your eyes. There was something magnetic about you, even in your dishevelled state. He couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t also slightly concerning—a young woman alone in a drunken state. You were a happy kind of drunk right now, but he had a feeling that might change quickly. 

With a final look at you, he set off into the chaos of the club. Back underneath the strobe lights and the pulsating music. Back between the warm and drunk bodies of others. Somewhere, a girl in a sparkly dress was yelling about her ex to anyone who’d listen, and he thought for a fleeting moment how easily you might have been her—except you weren’t yelling. You’d asked for his help.

He heard his friends yell after him from their place in the VIP area, probably wondering why he’d been gone for so long. But Charles was on a mission—to find a minuscule bag and a blonde woman in a crowd of not that many bags and way too many blonde women. 

The bag was easier to spot than he expected. Its sparkles caught the light as it lay abandoned, right by his feet on the dance floor. That seemed too good to be true. He picked it up, the thing so small it felt absurd in his hands. What could you even fit in here? A debit card? A single lipstick?

Charles didn’t mean to pry, but he opened it to make sure it actually was yours, and much to his surprise, he found a debit card, some spare euros, some sort of makeup product, a tampon, and a driver’s license. Fuck, you were the kind of person who looked gorgeous in official portraits. And he knew your name now. Maybe he should’ve asked for that before he decided to agree on being your knight in shining armour. 

Emma, however, was more elusive. Verging on needle in a haystack territory. He scanned the floor and the booths, getting nowhere. Looking for a girl as equally lost as you were turned out to be harder than he thought. Everyone fit so well into the orchestrated act of nightclub hierarchy that no one looked out of place. 

Admitting defeat, Charles turned to walk back to the corridor outside the toilets, hoping to find you exactly where he left you. Before he could even round the corner, he heard your voice cut through the noise. 

“I know, Emma. I know that I do this all the time and that it scares you to death.” 

Your tone was half-pleading, half-explanatory, like you were trying to win a debate and console her at the same time. The sound of it made him stop in his tracks, curiosity anchoring him to the spot.

As he edged closer, you came into view, seated exactly where he’d left you. Beside you stood Emma, arms folded tightly across her chest in a way that broadcast equal parts frustration and affection. She was, as Charles had guessed, tall, blonde, and distinctly more polished than you at the moment. Similarly dressed but with an air of sharp control. 

Emma was the kind of person you’d send in to fix a mess—not become part of one. Clearly switched into full mom mode, she had already given you a glass of what Charles prayed was water and had tied your hair into a haphazard ponytail, probably anticipating the worst-case scenario of tequila-induced disaster.

Charles lingered just out of sight, gripping your little sparkly bag as if it were a trophy. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but your voice was unmistakable and loud enough to rival the DJ. 

“I get a little drunk and I get into all the don’ts, but on good days? I am charming as fuck, and you love me for it.” 

Your voice, slurred but insistent, filled the hallway. You reached out toward her, your hands wobbling in the air until she sighed and took them. Emma sighed, her annoyance cracking just enough for Charles to catch the tired laugh she let slip. It was the kind of laugh that said, Yes, I love you, but you’re impossible, and I have considered leaving you in a bush once or twice.

Charles smiled to himself, your declaration replaying in his mind. Charming as fuck, indeed. He wasn’t sure if the grin tugging at his lips was due to the absurdity of the situation or the undeniable truth of your words.

He wasn’t invisible, after all, so when you were done with your exclamation to Emma, your gaze easily landed on Charles, standing somewhat pathetically, waiting just a few metres away. The moment your eyes met his, you lit up like you’d just remembered something incredibly important.

“And look!” you exclaimed, pointing toward him. Drunk you had a thing for pointing. “I had this… hot guy here to help me. He’s found my bag! You, sir, are a lifesaver.”

You’d just managed to call him both “hot” and “sir” in the same breath, and Charles wasn’t sure if it was because you didn’t know his name or if you were trying to drive him completely insane.

Emma’s head whipped toward Charles, her face shifting from surprise to a kind of restrained horror as recognition dawned. Her posture stiffened again, her folded arms tightening. While you hadn’t known who Charles was, Emma definitely did. 

“Y-you roped Charles fucking Leclerc into looking for your bag?!” 

“A what now?” you mumbled, looking between the two of them with confusion written across your face.

Charles stepped closer, handing you the bag like a peace offering. “I am… a Charles Leclerc.” 

“It’s a thing?”

“No, it’s my name.” 

You squinted at him, as though trying to decide if this explanation satisfied you. Then, with a dramatic sigh, you let your head fall back against the wall. “You should have led with that,” you pointed out. “I need to sit down. Oh wait—” You gestured weakly at your own position. “Already doing that.”

“Charles Leclerc,” Emma said, gesturing toward him with an incredulous sweep of her hand. “Formula 1 driver? Like… literally one of the best in the world?”

“Ohhh, right. We’re in Monaco,” you mumbled to yourself. 

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose and muttered something about you being impossible. Then she straightened, looking at Charles briefly before her gaze shifted to the dance floor. “I’m going to find the others and tell them it’s time to go. Don’t let her wander off again, please.”

Before Charles could respond, she disappeared into the crowd, her blonde head bobbing toward the pulsating lights. He watched her go, unsure if he’d just been handed a babysitting gig or a challenge. When he turned back, you were studying him, your head tilted slightly.

Charles hesitated, then he sat down beside you again, leaning back against the worn pleather as he looked right back at you. Up close, the club lights caught in your hair, making it shimmer like an accidental halo. He wondered if it was the alcohol in his veins or just the moment, but you looked… luminous.

“So, what now? Bag found, friend located. Mission accomplished,” he asked, almost proudly, as he relaxed further into his seat. 

You drunkenly fumbled through the belongings inside your bag, in disbelief over everything being there. “You really did solve all of my problems… Thank you,” you said softly, a hint of genuine gratitude creeping into your voice.

He smiled, his amusement softening into something warmer. “You’re welcome.”

You studied him for a moment, your gaze slower now, more deliberate. “It makes sense that you’re famous,” you said finally, as if you’d unravelled some profound mystery. “You’ve got a really pretty face.”

Charles chuckled completely unguarded. “I think that’s the tequila talking.”

“Nope,” you said, grinning with certainty. “That’s all me.”

He couldn’t help but be drawn in by your confidence, your complete lack of pretense. On top of the almost sticky pleather sofa, he could see your hand move tentatively, dancing over the fabric, aimless yet perfectly intentional. He wasn’t thinking when he grabbed it, intertwining his fingers with your own, but it felt right—and something innocent that felt this right couldn’t be wrong. 

“I think you were right,” he said, not scared to look you in the eye. “About you being charming as fuck.”

“Good,” you replied, raising your glass of water in a mock toast. “Because I think I’m keeping you here for a while.”

“Still too drunk to walk?” he teased. 

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” you declared, each syllable landing like a punchline. 

He laughed loudly, letting the chaos fade into the background, his hand grounded in yours, feeling more intimate than any drunken kiss had ever done.

Charles wasn’t dreading being in the club on a Saturday night for once, not counting the minutes until he could leave without being called boring. Instead, he found himself thinking about where you might go next—and wondering if he could come along. Even if that was a hotel room after-party or a rented apartment in Nice. You were more interesting than anything else Monaco could offer right now, and filer à l’anglaise would leave the leeches to pay for their own enjoyment. 

Thank you for reading, hope this is a good introduction to what the rest of the love letters will be like! Please comment, like, reblog, bombard me with messages, I feed off that stuff 💌

Taglist: @koko-mei @anamiad00msday @floweringanna @lucyysthings @yelenam5 @firefirevampire @alexxavicry @emails-i-can-send

(if i haven't tagged you it's because your age wasn't visible for me to verify on your blog, i keep that as a precaution even if i'm not always posting smut)

[arthurhillmastermind]

Anyone but him | Arthur Hill

“Same Building , same friends, zero patience for each other. For now.”

Kirstie stood in the doorway of her new flat, surveying the chaos of boxes stacked high around her. Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the fresh coat of paint and the potential of the space, but the overwhelming mess felt like a mountain to climb. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the task ahead.

“Okay, let’s tackle this,” she said to herself, rolling up her sleeves. Just then, the door swung open, and Chris bounded in, a wide grin plastered on his face.

“Look at you, all settled in! Ready to transform this place into your streaming paradise?” he teased, dropping a box beside her with a soft thud.

“More like a war zone,” Kirstie laughed, glancing around. “But I’ll take any help I can get.”

“Don’t worry, I’m here to save the day!” Chris proclaimed dramatically, hoisting another box from the car. “You’ve got snacks, right? This is going to be a long haul.”

“Of course! But you’ll have to earn them first,” Kirstie replied, mock-seriously, as she grabbed a box of kitchen supplies and headed for the kitchen.

They worked in comfortable silence, chatting occasionally about the best placement for her gaming setup and her hopes for her new place. The more they unpacked, the more Kirstie felt the weight of change lifting. She was excited about this new chapter in her life.

As Chris headed back out to grab another load, Kirstie decided to take a break and check her phone. Just as she was scrolling through her messages, she heard footsteps approaching. She glanced up, expecting Chris, but instead, she found herself face-to-face with Arthur, Chris’s roommate.

He leaned against the door frame, a casual but undeniably confident posture. His dark hair fell just above his eyes, and he had an expression that was equal parts amused and disinterested. Kirstie felt her heart rate spike—not from attraction, but from annoyance.

“Hey, new neighbour,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Nice to see you’ve already made a mess of the place.”

Kirstie’s lips tightened as she fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Yeah, well, it’s called having a life. Maybe you should try it sometime instead of lurking in your own flat.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed by her retort. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt your little party. Are you planning to invite anyone over, or is it just you and your boxes?���

“Is there a rule that says I need to have a social event just because I moved in?” she shot back, crossing her arms defiantly. “I prefer to keep my circle small, thanks.”

He chuckled softly, as if she were the punchline to a joke only he understood. “Guess you’ll have to get used to it, then. This building’s basically a reality show waiting to happen. You might want to invite the neighbours over eventually—might help with the loneliness.”

Kirstie felt irritation flare inside her, the casual condescension of his tone grating on her nerves. “You know, some people actually enjoy their own company, Arthur,” she replied, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Right, that’s why you’re talking to me,” he said, his smirk widening.

“Yeah, because I’m really enjoying this conversation,” Kirstie retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

At that moment, Chris re-entered the room, arms full of boxes. “Hey, Arthur! Stop flirting with Kirstie and help me out!” he called out, breaking the tension.

“Flirting? Please,” Arthur replied with a laugh, tossing Kirstie a knowing glance. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Kirstie narrowed her eyes at him, but the smirk he wore only fuelled her irritation. “Thanks, Chris. You really know how to make a girl feel welcome,” she muttered under her breath.

“Anytime!” Chris grinned, oblivious to the tension simmering between them.

As Chris and Arthur moved to start unpacking more boxes, Kirstie retreated to the kitchen, shaking her head. She could already tell living next to Arthur was going to be a challenge. His sarcastic humour rubbed her the wrong way, and she had no idea how she’d cope with the constant reminder of his presence.

Once she regained her composure, Kirstie forced herself to focus on organising the kitchen. She’d show them both that she could make this place a home, even if it meant dealing with her obnoxious neighbour every step of the way.

The thought of streaming in her new setup felt invigorating, but she couldn’t shake the irritation Arthur had stirred within her. She resolved to keep her distance from him and focus on what truly mattered—her gaming and her audience.

As she organized the last few items, she could hear Arthur and Chris bantering in the background, their laughter echoing through the flat. It was a reminder that this was a new beginning, filled with challenges but also opportunities.

Kirstie took a deep breath, knowing she would find a way to navigate her new life—one sarcastic comment at a time.

After a quick unpacking session, Kirstie finally settled into her new home office, a cosy nook brimming with potential. The walls were painted a soft teal, and twinkling fairy lights were strung along the shelves filled with her favourite gaming memorabilia. A large, sleek desk sat against the window, adorned with a top-of-the-line gaming monitor, a mechanical keyboard, and a high-quality microphone positioned just right for her streams. She had gone all out for this setup, wanting her space to reflect her passion for gaming and content creation.

Plopping down into her ergonomic chair, Kirstie flicked on her laptop, the screen lighting up and casting a cool glow across her focused face. She adjusted her headset, making sure the microphone was positioned perfectly. Excitement bubbled in her chest as she logged into her game, her heart racing at the thought of sharing this experience with her growing audience. This was her first stream in the new place, and she wanted everything to go perfectly.

She glanced around the room, taking in the vibrant posters of her favourite games that adorned the walls, alongside her carefully arranged collection of plushies that had accompanied her through countless late-night gaming sessions. A neon sign above her desk flickered to life, spelling out “NO!” in bold letters—a fitting mantra for most of her live streams when a game wasn't going the way she wanted.

Today, she’d be diving into her latest gaming obsession, a thrilling adventure game that had captured her heart, and she was eager to share it with her viewers. Maybe she’d even drop a few updates about her new living situation and how it felt to have her best friend Chris living just above her.

As she adjusted her chair and readied her fingers over the keyboard, she felt a mix of excitement and apprehension wash over her. The stream would be a chance to connect with her audience in a new space, and she was determined to make it memorable. With a final deep breath, Kirstie hit the “Go Live” button, the familiar rush of adrenaline surging through her as she welcomed her viewers.

“Hey everyone! Welcome back to my channel! I’m super excited to share my new adventure with you all today. I just moved into a new place, and my best friend Chris, also known as ChrisMD or Christopher Michael Dixon is living right next to me, so things are bound to get interesting!”

As the chat flooded with emojis and enthusiastic greetings, she felt the comforting warmth of community wrap around her. She dove into the game, fingers dancing over the keyboard, and for the next hour, the world outside her office faded away. The game pulled her in, and she expertly navigated the challenges, sharing her thoughts and strategies with her audience.

Then, her phone buzzed on the desk, and she caught a glimpse of Chris's name lighting up the discord menu. With a grin, she accepted the call, and a moment later, Chris’s voice filled her headphones.

“Hey, Kirstie! Ready to show off your skills?” Chris's tone was upbeat, a playful tease woven through his words.

“Always,” she shot back, grinning at the camera. “But don’t get too comfortable up there, I might just win this one without any distractions.”

“Just don’t blame me if you lose!” Chris laughed, but Kirstie could already hear Arthur’s voice joining in the background.

“Yeah, Kirstie, you should really work on your gaming skills before you go live,” Arthur chimed in, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Kirstie’s eyes narrowed as she shot a glare at the doorway where Arthur stood, arms crossed, and that infuriating smirk plastered on his face. “What do you know about gaming?” she snapped back, refusing to let his presence derail her focus. “Isn’t your expertise more about how to flex for the camera?”

“Please, at least I’m not just sitting here hoping my setup distracts from my lack of talent,” he retorted, leaning casually against the wall as if this was all just a game to him.

She could feel irritation bubbling inside her. “And what are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be out making a TikTok or something?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, an amused glint in his eyes. “Funny you say that; I was just trying to figure out how to film your fail during this stream. It should be good for at least a few hundred thousand views.”

Kirstie's heart raced—not just from the game but from the challenge he posed. “You just wait, Arthur. I’ll show you what I’m made of,” she shot back, her determination refocusing her energy.

“You’re made of cringe. That's all you do, make people cringe” he retorts.

Kirstie’s smile faltered for just a moment. What an ass, she thought, rolling her eyes as she tried to keep her cool. “Right, because you’re the expert on not being cringe,” she shot back, the heat creeping up her neck. “At least I’m not just sitting here flexing my non-existent biceps for views.”

“Hey, at least my views aren’t just because my tits are out,” he retorted, and Kirstie felt her cheeks flush with anger. The chat erupted, a mix of laughter and shock, but all she could focus on was the annoyance bubbling within her.

Kirstie took a deep breath, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she shot a glare towards her screen, where Chris had just emerged with Arthur, their laughter spilling into her stream like an unwanted guest. Arthur leaned in the background against the wall, arms crossed, and a smirk plastered across his face, the very image of annoyance wrapped in confidence. She felt her irritation rise like steam from a boiling kettle.

——————————————————-

ITS HERE! finally im so excited for you guys to read. the hashtag to follow is anyonebutyoufic and it’ll find all chapters!

i would like to thank everyone who helped with this, you know who you are and i love you🫶🏼

Enjoy - ArthurHillMastermind

[heybaetae]

hi friends! 👋🏻

i am here with my little 2024 gif wrapped after being tagged by @jkvjimin, @cordiallyfuturedwight, @yooboobies, @taehyunghobi, @jinstronaut, and @btsjk-biased. i didn't expect so many tags, so i appreciate you all for including me and wanting to see me recollect some of the work i shared this year. i'll do so under the cut and leave comments wherever i see fit.

i've seen a couple different ways people have done this, so i'll do a variation of both. i'll list my favorite vs. most popular set per each month + some honorable mentions that i liked or were particularly proud of. feel free to go show any of the mentioned posts some love just as i plan to do with everyone else's some time after i post this!

JANUARY

my favorite - vmin holding hands ↳ because i'm Me and they are insufferable

most popular - thankful taehyung

honorable mentions - jimin at home, koo sprout

FEBRUARY 

my favorite - jikook...playing? ↳ i was mostly just continuing to test out panning gifs when i made this, but i liked it a lot because what the fuck is wrong with jimin

most popular - blue & grey yoongi in vegas

honorable mentions - hobi backstage, exhausted jimin

MARCH 

my favorite - bts debut solo albums as iphones ↳  this was the most labor intensive set i'd made probably since the first set in my social media series (aka the instagram feed...part two next year? i've already outlined the templates but hobi is holding me back) and mayhaps the most disappointing as far as steady engagement goes. it dropped off pretty fast and it really killed my spirit ngl...but we ball. i appreciate everyone who wrote really nice things in the tags <3

most popular - fri(end)s

honorable mentions - fri(end)s live film

APRIL 

my favorite - vmin stretching

most popular - favorite jungkook smiles ↳ i think this was requested by an anonymous person, but it sat in my drafts for many months and i thought "oh this could be an endless series for all the tannies if i'm ever running low on comp ideas". then i finally published it on a slow day and just never made another one. maybe some day lol

honorable mentions - ethereal jungkook, rawr xD jungkook

MAY 

i didn't post anything in may. actually, everything i posted in april was an old draft because i took a break during april and may (in other words: i ran away with my tail between my legs after the iphone set lmaooo)

JUNE

my favorite - life goes on vmin self-cam ↳ act surprised. i can't believe they let this sit on a hard drive for four years and then dumped it on me out of no where during festa, are you fucking crazy

most popular - jimin being small and cute

honorable mentions - smeraldo garden marching band, dino wrists jungkook

JULY 

my favorite - jungkook knows he's cute ↳ i also posted the before and after coloring of this because...girl 😭

most popular - taehyung filling the room with negative energy ↳ i would see that video edit all the time and was like...i need this as big gifs. lowkey the quality kinda slays

honorable mentions - ytc in busan jimin

AUGUST

my favorite - happy birthday jeon jungkook ↳ in my timezone his birthday starts at 8am on august 31st, so that's why i include this with august because it appears within that month in my archive. anyway this was fun and experimental and i'm glad i got it out of my system since i always wanted to try the google theme. i ended up merging it into the social media series because of the templates, but that was clearly a stupid move because if something says happy birthday in the caption people tend to abruptly stop reblogging it when the birthday is over so... 🤡

most popular - jimin struggling in connecticut

honorable mentions - sunscreen jungkook, giggly jikook, raggedy brothers, vmin in jeju

SEPTEMBER 

my favorite - maknae line sharing tae's glasses

most popular - park "believable ass" jimin

honorable mentions - jikook on the train, maknae line love gestures, jungkook being cussed out by jimin

OCTOBER 

my favorite - happy birthday park jimin ↳ another birthday flop but it's so cute

most popular - vmin in the car

honorable mentions - jikook clowning in the barracks

my recap stops there as i have nothing to show for november and december (with the exception of the yeontan tribute set and what i'll be posting for tae's birthday) as i stopped giffing at the end of october.

you can take a look back at everything else i made in my archive here :)

i don't know what the new year will hold for me as far as posting content goes, but thank you very much to those who never stopped supporting my work this year and the last four years since i started this blog. i've had a lot of feelings this year about my place as a gifmaker here and i've struggled a bit reckoning with the low engagement despite how much i know my work is loved by those who matter and never fail to let me know. i am working on reminding myself of this and i offer the same sentiment to anyone else experiencing the same feelings. you all deserve 100x more than what you get back.

for now though, my queue is gonna continue posting for me for a while. if i can get myself out of this funk by the time bts comes back, then i hope to provide whatever i can when the time feels right.

i think nearly everyone has been tagged to do this by now, but i’ll tag (unless you’ve already done it, just lmk or ignore me) @jung-koook, @kimtaegis, @btsiu, @namchyoon, @kookjinnies, @rjshope and whoever else wants to do this, please do and forward it to me or put it in my tracked tag so i can reblog it!

i love you all. happy new year 💜

[catsannie]

IM JUST EMBARRASSED

SYNOPSIS~ when your friends reach out saying you need to be more “social” and need to talk to more people, your friend tells you she “knows a guy” for you to get aquatinted with, what she didn’t tell you is he’s in another country and doesn’t speak the same language. will this work out?

AUTHORS NOTE ~ heyyyyy guys im starting to get back into writing this again, ive just been so busy 😔 but i hope yall enjoy this chapter! i apologize if its boring and if its ass😭, im still getting back into the hang of things

previous | masterlist | next

Putting down her phone defeated, y/n looks over at the character that has been idling on her island. ‘why did i have to say i only knew animal crossing, i could have lied. or tried to change the conversation to something else.”

As she was about to turn off the switch a buzzing came from the couch. Looking towards the phone, it was yeri.

“Hey yeri, what’s up?” Y/N asked while trying to put everything away.

“you’re never going to believe who i got a message from!!” she squealed. Knowing yeri it was either a new guy she was talking to, or seunghun and yonghee trying to get her help on something.

“i don’t know yeri, was it seunghun telling you he got his foot stuck in a pot again?” Y/N asked. Knowing seunghun it was a possibility. “cause i can’t deal with having to put butter around his ankle because he’s too afraid to break the pot.”

“uhhhhh no, it was San!” Yeri exclaimed. “ he felt bad with how the conversation went and wants to try again!”

With a sigh, Y/N sat back down on her couch, ‘San? feel bad? why would he feel bad?’ does he just want to feel bad cause he can? or is there another reason. “Yeri, why does he feel bad? i should be the one feeling bad, cause clearly animal crossing wasn’t the greatest answer to give him.”

It was embarrassing. Since he clearly didn’t play the game or possibly like it. But there are more conversations to have that does not involve video games that neither of them play… for certain reasons.

“It is just who he is as a person Y/N. He feels bad that he asked a stupid question and didn’t ask a more straight forward one. He was also nervous.” Yeri Added. Y/N could hear some shuffling from the other end of the phone, yeri was either fidgeting because she’s nervous or getting onto her couch.

At this point, she was willing to play the long game. Test out the waters with San and see where things go. It could either go good and she learns the language, or it goes bad like all the other men she’s talked to in the past.

“Fine Yeri, if that’s how he feels about it i’ll send him a message tomorrow. I just want to turn off my switch and watch some tv. My brain is fried.” Y/N chuckled while picking up the switch controller.

“Your brain wouldn’t be fried if you went outside instead of playing animal crossing all day. But anyways, i’ll talk to you later i think seunghun actually got his foot stuck in a pot.” Yeri sighed while abruptly hanging up.

It was a normal occurrence for their friendship, Yeri being the sweetheart of them all. She sees the good in everyone, it doesn’t matter if you screwed her over in the past. If there was one person Y/N could trust with her life it was Yeri.

Looking at the time on her phone, Y/N stands up and cracks her back.

“yeah it’s about time i get my ass off this couch and do something.” Y/N mumbles while turning off the console.

Tomorrow will be the day she reaches out to San again to have an actual conversation.

TAGLIST~

@tiddygang2020 @1lovejinki @astrid-potato @potatos-on-clouds @staytinyluv

[dirtydudesmustdie]

Fairly disappointed by the lack of Dirk Gently x Sherlock Holmes fanfics.

Can you imagine these two meeting up on a case? like Dirk investigating a missing cat that leads him somehow to a stolen royal artificat which Sherlock had been investigating and Dirk insists the artifact opens a portal to a different dimension while Sherlock insists it's the work of a some delusional cult. They have to work together even though Sherlock finds Dirk uttery ridiculous and infuriating, not only because of his attitude and holistic nonsense but also because he can't actually read him in a way that makes sense.

All while Todd and John are bonding over how life is as the sole carer and begrudgingly best friend of a brilliant detective with zero social skills and a tendency to put them in life-threatening situations.

Like, how the hell hasn't anyone written this yet??

[hulloitsdani]

hi dani fire emblem :) do you happen to have any thoughts on book 6 "I'm going to kill you too" scene?

Please, Dani fire emblem was my father. Just call me HulloIts.

As for the scene in question, oh man. It’s the “I’m going to kill you too” scene, what more can I add! I got some tweaks and reads on Letizia, but I feel like that scene speaks for itself. You don’t need me to tell you why it’s good— It’s one of the moments where feh’s writing really works.

Instead, I think what I can offer to the conversation is an analysis on Alfonse’s three gambit scenes and how they relate to each other. Because taken as a package, I find it fascinating how these scenes are treated by the narrative over time. Alfonse’s ability to pull these off is such a massive boon, but it’s been steadily growing into a delightful character flaw over the years.

Now, let’s back up. What do I mean by Alfonse’s gambit scenes? This is in reference to three scenes that have occurred throughout heroes: Alfonse calling Hel’s bluff in book 3, threatening Letizia in book 6, and his plot to cover for Ratatoskr in book 8. Also known as “Because it means that it is your life that will end in nine days’ time,” “I’m going to kill you too,” and “My saviors have arrived.” These scenes are defined by Alfonse risking everything on a charisma roll. There might not actually be any dice rolling, but that is certainly what it feels like. If he’s wrong about Hel’s curse, he’s dead. If he can’t convince Letizia of his ruthlessness, then he’s super dead and everyone’s screwed. If he doesn’t perfectly sell Hraesvelgr’s assassination attempt, then him AND Ratatoskr are, you guessed it, dead.

These are gambits— major risks with massive rewards. And what’s unique about Alfonse’s brand of it is that they occur on a social level. He’s not, for example, tactically sacrificing a hero for the chance of inflicting enough damage/debuffs so another can to land the kill. He’s not a tactician at the end of the day and has not been shown to be able to crunch those numbers that fast. Instead, he’s weaponizing everything he has gleaned about his enemies as people and staking his life on it.

Now, he does not do that without motive. For all of these scenes, he’s attempting to protect people while backed up into a corner. Using his encounter with Letizia as an example, she’s rather successfully forcing the Order’s hand into surrendering by sending innocent people to the Shadow Realm— I mean Embla’s domain. She’s working under the assumption that the Order, you know, cares about that type of thing. If Alfonse can successfully menace her into believing the opposite, even if for just a short time, it can give them the wiggle room to better position themselves and lessen the use of human shields as it would not longer be a tactical option. He’s protecting his friends and his people in one swoop at the expense of himself. Pulling that stunt with the lady who specializes in weaponizing information is a recipe for his future disaster, but that’s a loss he’d take in a heartbeat in order to keep everyone safe.

The same can be said about his encounter with Hel. He openly invites her to curse him, because in that nine day timeframe, he can ensure he drags Hel down with him. This is an infinitely better option for him than Hel slowly picking everyone off with her curse. Now, out of the three scenes, this one is notedly the most heroically coded and the most corned our protagonists are. We just spent an entire opening act witnessing the lethality and unavoidability of this curse. Of death herself. Alfonse, having had to spend that time accepting his own mortality, successfully weaponizes that acceptance against a cruel and power hungry death. That’s signifying a growth and change of his character. The success of that gambit permanently puts his own life on the gambling table. Which, in accordance to book 3’s themes of death, is a positive thing. But, as time goes on, this idea gains more nuance.

Which brings us back to Letizia. We are not narratively in Alfonse’s head when he pulls off this gambit. We understand the boy smiling in the face of death, because we have seen everything leading up to that point. We, comparably, do not initially understand the boy smiling as he says “I’m going to kill you too.” He has to explain himself afterwards. It’s very jarring as a result. Against a cruel god blinded by hubris, this gambit feels like overcoming against all odds. Against a mortal woman who successfully outsmarted him? It’s concerning to see that he has the capacity for that malice, even if it was not real. We didn’t have the context of Líf when Alfonse initially had that confrontation with Hel, but we do now. It colors all these more morally complex actions whether we want it to or not.

This brings me to the scene in book 8, which is by far the most interesting in my opinion. For the entire first half of that book, we are seeing the social manipulation game Alfonse excels at. He’s not the most friendly or personable, but he’s smart and good at pattern recognition. He knows the information his enemies have and successfully predicts their actions based on that. And he, unfortunately, correctly recognizes that Ratatoskr is coming under greater risk of being found out and getting potentially murdered on their behalf. If there is a mole, it’s going to be her. So he comes up with a scheme to ensure her safety via the best tool in his arsenal. Ole reliable, gambling his own life.

But, interestingly, this time he’s not simply trying to convince his enemies of his deception. No, the charisma check he has to pass here is deceiving his own allies. Against Letizia, keeping his friends out of the loop made a bit more sense. The narrative he was selling was that HE was the farce within the Order. His sister looking surprised at his “true nature” helped. That is not the case here. He kept his friends out of the loop to partially help sell the illusion that this assassination attempt was not planned, but mostly because they would not have allowed him to do this. They would not have approved of this overly dangerous plan, if the serious convincing required for Anna to let him go meet Veronica by himself is anything to go by. But this was the only way to ensure Ratatoskr’s safety, so he did it anyway. That is a fascinating character choice and I wish it caused more character conflict, but I auppoae that’s what fanfiction and fanart are for.

Nonetheless, it’s fascinating how this behavior went from inciting a downright celebratory feeling to a more “what the hell is wrong with you?” reaction over time. The acceptance of his mortality in book three has straddled and then passed the line of overfamiliarity in book eight. This then pairs itself with his innate desire to protect those he cares about in ways that feel inevitable. If he doesn’t make that choice to put his life on the line, then it’s characters like Kiran experiencing the fallout. Or at least, that is how he perceives it after the events of seasons like book 5 and book 7. If their enemies are constantly trying to separate them, then maybe if he manually triggers it and puts the enemy focus on him instead, things will be better. The people he cares about won’t get hurt. It’s totally fine, he swears. He can take a hit.

[bangtanhoesthings]

I saw a comment somewhere that said " I believe Jikook are really together and they will live their truth out loud once they come out of the military.''

Let me put my tin foil hat on and accept the "togetherness" beyond all reasonable doubt for the sake of this argument .

Do I think they would?

Hmm, maybe but probably not.

Let me explain.

I lived in Korea for 14 months whilst getting my Masters. That country is very conservative. I tend to tell my friends that technologically and developmentally, they are leaps and bounds above most countries. But culturally and societal wise, most of Korea is still in the 1950s.

Looking at Korea through the lens of kpop and also kdramas makes people think it's an accepting society. Watching your fave male idols wear skirts, blush, pink, dangle earrings does nothing for the actual LGBTQ rights on the ground. Absolutely nothing. Queer people in South Korea face prejudice, discrimination, and other barriers to social inclusion, the worst among the countries in the developed world. Just a few weeks ago, over 200K Christians took to the streets to protest the anti-discrimination law which among other things would have been a positive step for queer rights.

In a country that's highly unaccepting of things that are different, coming out can put your life and safety at risk and is not advisable.

Would idols from a big group like BTS coming out be a positive thing for the 🌈 movement in SK? Of course. But it would still be an uphill battle and the toll it would take on their mental health is unimaginable.

What I am trying to say is, put your expectations at zero. Because the reality is if any of the members of BTS are LGBTQ, they may never come out and that's okay. They don't owe anyone that. The way society doesn't expect straight people to come out, is the same way it should stop expecting queer people to as well.

I am bisexual and I live in a country where being queer is a criminal offence. I could be arrested and put in prison. I have made peace with the fact that I will never come out, I probably never will be with a woman either. It breaks my heart but that's my reality. Jikook reality is not as extreme as mine, but sometimes the court of public opinion can be just as brutal.

All in all, I believe in living life on your own terms, whatever that looks like. Whether it's taking the risk-jumping off a cliff and learning how to fly in the process. Or taking the safer route and choosing not to jump at all. As long as you are happy, I am happy for you.

I think this grace should be extended to these men, whatever their orientation may be. BTS have made history by paving the way in some circles, this 🌈 may be one of the doors they decide to open for idols someday. Or it is just as likely we may never know, and that's ok. It's none of our business anyway.

Peace and love.

[blehblehbleh735]

Get to know rapper!chris x singer!reader!!

SINGER!READER

Genre: pop, indie-pop

Similar artists: Madison Beer, Sabrina Carpenter, Billie Eillish

Albums and covers (coming soon)

Gained Fame: In 2021, Y/N started making music after her boyfriend cheated on her and their messy breakup, she put all of her feelings into songs and decided her new life started at that moment. She tested with sounds and one day she randomly posted them out of nowhere. Her confidence, however, skyrocketed when she only got maybe 1000 monthly listeners after about 3 months. She gave up and continued with life as if nothing happened.

In 2023, a beloved artist named Gracie Abrams, noticed her pathetic music and reached out. Y/N, much to her dismay, of course said yes when Gracie asked to do a collaboration with her. The song blew up on tik tok and other social media platforms and Y/N’s 6 songs soon started rising. Rooftops, a song about her ex, was #14 on the top 200 in the US. Gracie and her became good friends and Y/N got into song writing again.

Cute little headcanons:

Singer!y/n, who doesn't pay attention to rude or sexualising comments about her body but Chris does. When they're out in public and Chris hears someone say one thing about her, he’s practically on top of them and he’s not scared to beat the shit out of them.

Singer!y/n, who keeps a notebook full of random lyrics inspired by overheard conversations, half of which make absolutely no sense at all, but are oddly poetic

Singer!y/n, who insists on hand signing fan’s posters because it's more “personal” even if it takes hoursSinger!y/n, who will stop a concert mid way if she sees a sign or an outfit that she loves just to compliment that person.

Singer!y/n, who loves making up dumb tik tok dances to her songs just for funSinger!y/n, who’s fans are called the most ridiculous name. It started as a joke but now it's a part of her brand.

Singer!y/n, who takes a polaroid picture with her team before every show

Singer!y/n, who gets nervous before award shows, so Chris shows her his “pre game hype” which consists of terrible dancing and a not so helpful pep talk in a mirror

RAPPER!CHRIS (CHRI$)

Genre: hip hop, rap (obviously)

Similar artists: Playboi Carti, The Kid LaROI, Lil Skies

Albums and covers (coming soon)

Gained fame: Chris started his career more recently at the beginning of 2024. Because of the youtube channel, Chris didn't need to be famous for his music. About mid 2024, his music started to get recognized by more than just Sturniolo Triplets fans. Playboi Carti actually liked Chris’s music for what it was.

On Carti’s tik tok, he posted a video with one of Chris’s songs as the sound. Don't know how this made Chri$ more popular but his listens blew up hours later. 11 million monthly listeners quickly went to 30 in less than a month.

Cute little headcanons:

Chri$, who always kept his word, and has never done drugs, drank alcohol, or smoked a vape or cigarette in his life.

Chri$, who’s concerts are the most wild and fun thing ever. The energy in the sold out stadiums is exhilarating and the fans in the front row will probably not be able to hear anything else for days.

Chri$, who makes sure that you are always comfortable and happy no matter what you’re doing.

Chri$, who has your stuff scattered everywhere. He’s got hair ties on his wrist, your hairbrush in his car, and your clothes are all over the place.

Chri$, who once hung a pair of your panties on the rear view mirror in his car because the color “complimented” the vibe

Chri$, who never lets you pay for anything. This man will do everything and anything to make sure your card never sees daylight. Sometimes he steals your wallet before you even leave the car.

Fics to look forward to: (I obviously have not been busy)

Sleepytime - Chris asks Y/N to sing him to sleep one night

Model - Y/N’s manager needs to meet with her about upcoming tour outfits but Chris is not having it with her leaving

Noise Complaints - Late night studio sessions in Y/N’s apartment lead to awkward run ins with the neighbors

Pink Sweater Season - Chris borrows Y/N’s favorite oversized pink sweatshirt for a music video and the internet has questions.

Off Key Apologies - After a heated argument, Chris writes a very pathetic song as an apology but Y/N doesn't want to hear it

Mute - A mic on a live stream reveals way too much about how Chris feels about Y/N

Paper House - The power went out and the house is quiet so Chris and Y/N decide to build houses out of cards.

Stage Left - A surprise performance during Chris’ tour has the crowd cheering—and Y/N wondering where she stands with Chris

Signs - Chris finds an old playlist you made for him and realizes the feelings were there all along—he just missed the signs.

Second Verse - Chris struggles to finish a song about…love and how he hates to admit how much the second verse sounds like you.

REQUESTS!!