#but I look at some of them and I can't help feeling they look like articuno

[curiousorigins]

As someone who had Chronic Pain for the first like 25ish years of my life... Abled people literally do not understand the concept of a pain that never goes away.

They literally can't.

It's impossible. It even felt impossible for me because my pain was so early and so consistent that my brain literally just ignored it until one day I was doing physical therapy for a different injury... and it was just gone.

I felt it's absence and I felt the best I've felt in 20+ years.

I hadn't had a particularly good meal that day. Still had my stomach issues. Slept badly. My back hurt. Probably dehydrated. Definitely had tooth pain. But that was literally the best I can in memory, had ever felt.

The closest experience I can describe to it, is when you've got an abscessed tooth and they relieve the pressure and the pain is just gone and it's wonderful.

If there is no absence of pain... there is no relief. You can't just sleep in and feel better. You can't just drink water and feel better or get a new pillow etc. That's just your new default.

Now as someone who had previously considered myself abled who now has had an official disabled tag on me and all that... (I for the most part lucked out with a temporary disability. But know that plenty disabilities are chronic, permanent or get worse the longer you go.) I felt I was educated that I was an advocate but absolutely nothing prepared me for my body failing me so consistently. I listened to disabled folks and tried to amplify their voices.

I 100% was the person to go to bat for people who were in pain on my team. The problem is that for many people, pain is temporary. With rest, it goes away. With healing it gets better.

Most of those folks are sadly not educated. And conceptually it's a hard concept to work on despite all the empathy in the word.

The bigger the chain, the less likely that the person making the schedule can just hire another person and of course we all know companies have been understaffing on purpose for decades. This is definitely a Worker Rights issues. We've got a toxic working environment almost everywhere and the majority of the Working Class that's still working literally does not remember it being any better. You absolutely deserved better. And You definitely could use the support of an Advocate. I got in multiple fights on the behalf of co-workers all the time for these kind of issues. And when I was temporarily injured on the job, I had co-workers who fought for me too. The problem is people don't understand that we must stand together for this. For the abled folks, this is a temporary problem... just like their managers have been telling them understaffing is a temporary problem.

Look at your disabled co-workers folks and realize... one day that's going to be you. We literally all will at some point most likely be classed as disabled in some way. Sometimes permanently and sometimes not.

What you stand for TODAY is what might be left for you when it's your turn. Your managers/middle manager answer to a higher power then you and that is the greed of a very rich guy who literally sees you all as EXPENSES not VALUE.

DO NOT sacrifice YOURSELF on the Alter to Someone else's greed.

I understand the job market is tough and there are crappy work places that reveal themselves as crappy slowly. But YOU help create the CULTURE at WORK. ANYTIME I overheard management complain about such and such an employees issue with scheduling or with their ability. I ALWAYS spoke up.

I mentioned what a hard worker they were. How we'd been short on people for a long time. How we all deserved to be staffed enough that every one of us should be able to leave for 2 weeks and not have the store fall apart. I made people team lift. Reminded them that Corporate could not give them a new spine.

I trained most folks to speak up. And the more I did it, the more of use who would speak up.

And United We Bargain Divided We Beg.

The primary thing a manager is supposed to do is keep us compliant enough to work. Disgruntled rumblings are powerful when echoed.

Speak Up. Speak Up about TEMPORARY PAIN caused by WORK. TEMPORARY PAIN becomes PERMANENT PAIN if allowed to CONTINUE. PAIN is your body's FIRST attempt to get YOU to STOP doing something THAT IS HARMING YOU.

They decided that our anti-fatigue mats were a hazard. (It was actually the fact that our Stockroom was too small for the Stock they sent us and our Staff couldn't clear it with no space to work.) And tried to remove them. Every one of us had our shoes wear sooner and we all had greater back pain. I made sure to voice how weird it is that I hurt more now that we didn't have those mats. Sometimes I'd even sit down when we were unloading the truck to give my back a rest. I'd tell my other co-workers to do as well.

If a manager had the power to bring them back came in when I was sitting... I'd interrupt their telling me off for sitting that I literally hurt and what the cause was. That I'd probably be going to the doctor soon.

(Be sure to document your work pain by texting (not work but also work) other people about it. About how you hurt because blah blah at work. You might need it to prove that they should be paying to fix you if you ever need doctoring or disability pay.)

We got the mats back.

I would like to see more people talk about how jobs treat disabled employees.

I used to prep, wash dishes, and cook at mellow mushroom. I had chronic pain that wasn't NEARLY as bad as it is today, but it was still very debilitating. I told my employer "i cannot stand more than 4 to 6 hours. I CANNOT do shifts longer than this due to my illness." And even though i made my boundaries VERY clear, everyday i worked it was 8 hours at the least and 10 or 12 at the most. I would go up to my manager and say "look i really need to leave, my shift is over, my chronic pain is killing me." And he'd say "we really need to here, you HAVE to push through." And so i did, and after one, ONE month of that job my crps got incredibly worse to the point where i could no longer walk my dog around the block which was .5 miles. I quit, and that was FOUR years ago, and ever since that day I HAVE BEEN BEDRIDDEN AND HAVE TO USE A WHEELCHAIR. It is my biggest regret in life.

My best friend who has seen my whole journey has recently developed undiagnosed chronic pain, and she is in the EXACT same scenario i was 4 years ago. Busting her ass at a pizza place with extreme pain that hurts her so much she tells me "im in so much pain i don't even feel like a person." She doesn't feel LUCID. And her manager and coworkers are saying the same thing "if you don't help us you will let us down, we'll be in the shit."

That job thats hurting you isn't fucking worth it. I promise you no money is worth losing all your physical abilities and never getting them back. Your coworkers and boss do not give a shit about you, so don't you dare suffer for them. They will never understand your struggle and they will never try. They truly think being understaffed is worse than whatever pain you experience. They would rather you permanently damage yourself than inconvenience them. FUCK THEM. DON'T FUCKING DO IT!

[henrycangelbaby]

Thinking about John Price and his cute little assistant (reader) who ends up pregnant. 

A/N: Guys i was inspired while scrolling on the john price x reader tag, this legit came to me as a vision and now i have to write it (I plan on expanding on this idea so just stay with me!!!!)

Imagine being John Price's cute little assistant, just the sweetest little thing that John is kinda obsessed with. Like don't get me wrong she is amazing at her job, smart, put together and well organized and John does feel that her addition has been a positive one, taking some pressure off his shoulders and making sure his team is always prepared for whatever they are doing. She is very good at what she does, but that doesn’t stop John from admiring her. He knows he shouldn't be bit, he can't help it, she's young and sweet and a little bit innocent and he just wants to protect and love her all the time. 

In the beginning she was shy, only addressing him as sir and knocking on his door hesitantly whenever she needed to speak to him but gradually their boundaries became less and less. More often than not she works out of his office, whether he’s there or not, he insists on buying her an early lunch when she lets slip that she didn't have breakfast that morning. He has even picked her up from a night out once or twice, a little bit tipsy and calling the most trusted person she can think of that just happened to be her boss. He takes care of her as well, helping her get her makeup and clothes off before tucking her into her bed with a bottle of water and pain killers for the morning. He doesn't mention it when he sees her next, knowing how embarrassed she will be when he tells her the loneliness her tipsy self admitted. 

When she starts to get sick John is having absolutely none of it, driving her home and ordering her to take some time off (he even visits later that night to bring her some soup for her stomach). He doesn't expect her to look so sad when she comes back supposedly better from her “flu”, he doesn't expect to see her eyes shine with tears when he asks “what's wrong babygirl?”.  He sits them down on the couch in his office together, putting an arm over her and pulling her close for comfort. He certainly does not expect her to look up at him with those shiny wet eyes and admit she did something bad before crying that she's pregnant. It’s news to John who never even considered that his girl would be dating (let alone sleeping with) people. When he vocalizes this and she admits that her baby daddy isn't a very good guy, it's over for John. 

Suddenly he's all over her, promising to be there for her, that she can come to him whenever she needs. And he actually means it. Suddenly she’s staying in the spare bedroom in his house, not only does it have more room but John can keep an eye on her. She entirely moves into his office working on his desk with him, he gets her a comfy chair so she can be supported in the later months. He gets up to hold her hair back when she has morning sickness and ensures she gets enough nutritious food each day. When she starts showing, oh my god John doesn't know what to do with himself. That little bump peaking out of her tight skirts makes him foam at the mouth. Of course he prioritizes her comfort, insisting she change shoes and stop wearing those uncomfortable looking heels, but he keeps her in her formal work attire for just a little longer, just so he can see her cute tummy poking out of it. 

Speaking of her bump. He simply can't resist putting his hand on it. He feels so protective over it, best believe he goes feral if anyone tries to touch it. Hell all but breaks loose when his precious baby looks up at him with teary eyes telling him how uncomfortable she was when some rando put their hand on her stomach, (someone definitely lost their job that day). He eventually has her sitting in his lap, cooing over her and reassuring her that they won't get in trouble, that really he is the big boss anyways. He just loves having her there, perched on top of him he rests his head on her shoulder both arms coming around to cradle her now bigger bump. 

John mandates maternity leave when she starts getting big, maybe around seven months when she spends a lot of her time complaining about back aches and swollen ankles, of course he does what he can to help her but it gets to the point where he knows that she should be resting. He has to basically forcibly put her on leave, reassuring her panics about money by promising to take care of her. And oh boy does he. He gives her foot massages and holds her belly, when she starts outgrowing her clothes best believe he would hand over any of his so she can fit in them more comfortably. He's just all over her, unable to stomach the fact that soon she will have a real live baby. That baby is about to become the most protected baby in the entire world.

That's all I have for now because I fear if I begin rambling about the rest of the 141 neither of us might make it out alive. (just know this baby is going to be so damn spoiled it’s crazy). 

[postracehair]

trust me

max verstappen x reader | 2.3k

after an incredible (and wet) weekend in brazil, you have a confession to make.

cw: a loving relationship! discussion of anxiety/fear/worrying about your race car driver bf, healthy communication, and softness galore.

a/n: being a wag must be so stressful. like, damn! also, rain races stress me out, personally. this fic is about that.

__

The triple header comes to an end in the best way possible.

Max Verstappen wins the São Paulo Grand Prix from a 17th-place start! It's the stuff of dreams. The fist around your heart unclenches just a little bit as you watch him smiling, roaring, hoisting his well-earned trophy aloft. It's your best day in a long time, watching your darling boyfriend like that, and you celebrate with everyone late into the night. The Championship battle looms in the background but tonight is about the hard work from the weekend. The stress, the frustration, the damn rain. All of it worth it for the pride you all feel right now.

But what comes after -- that, you can admit, you enjoy even more. Three weeks until Las Vegas and Max and the team have plenty of work to do before then, but for now? For now, it's this: rest.

Everyone gets to go home, finally. And for you, home is wherever Max is. You've spent the first few days of the break thus far at his place. On the floor with the cats, on the couch watching movies. In his bed, sleeping, sometimes, other times... not so much. Hours and hours just being together. You'll have plenty of time for this once the season ends but you can never get enough of him.

You're on the couch, sprawled across the length of it with a book in hand. It's a good one, so much so that you don't notice Max until he taps your ankle and you jump.

"Jesus," you gasp. His lips are pulled up at one corner in the precursor to a full grin, sweatpants slung low enough that you can see the branded band of his underwear between the drawstrings and the hem of his t-shirt. "Where did you come from?"

"Watching race replays," he says with a shrug. "Scooch." You tug your legs back and sit up a little, bookmarking your page as he rounds the couch and plops down where your feet were.

"Max," you whine. "I like to watch those, too. So you can do that thing where you narrate like, every second." You're teasing, but only a little. For all the jokes about "maxplaining," you really do love how he explains things. He tells you what he was thinking at every turn, what the trick is, how long it took him to get it right. He points out his mistakes and those of the other drivers. All of it thoroughly and with enthusiasm, answering your questions like you're the best student he's ever had.

"Yeah, well," he says, sinking into the couch, arm stretched across the cushions towards you. Your eyes rake over the line of his bicep as he talks. "You don't like rain races very much. Wasn't sure you'd want to see it again."

That gets your attention. "How did you know that?" You've never told him outright that they stress you out. It's really important to you that you keep your cool at the track, that you don't do anything to let on that he should worry about you.

But you should know better, it seems.

"I can tell," Max says, looking right at you. "I pay attention."

You hum, not sure what to say. "You've got me there," you confess. "I'm sorry."

"Hey," he tuts. "Why the apology? You can feel however you want to. This weekend was complicated."

He feels too far away. You set your book on the ground and shove your toes under this thigh. He keeps his eyes on your face but you fuss with the hem of your t-shirt rather than look back.

"They're exciting. Rain races, I mean." You sigh. "But I can't help but worry, Max. From the garage, it's so --"

You lose track of your words because Max grabs hold of your legs and tugs them over his thighs as he moves closer to you, almost crowding you against the arm of the couch. He reaches for your collarbone to pick some lint from your shirt, his other arm slung across your calves.

"Were you scared?" he asks. "This weekend, I mean."

Frankly, you avoid telling him things like this because you don't want to distract him. You don't want to detract from his performance in any way and maybe that's selfish, because you know he's very good at what he does and how you feel isn't going to derail his weekend. But you know he loves you, and you know how deeply he feels things. How much he wants to be a good partner, a good driver, a good man. And you try really hard to let him know that he is all of those things.

The reality of your position in his life is that there will always be people who heavily imply that your presence, your actions, your choices could be at fault. It's ludicrous -- Max has said so many times -- but it makes you hype-aware. You don't want to overstep. It's something you know you should articulate to him properly, but you know he'll be upset that you think you can be anything but a good part of his life. It's an endless cycle.

"Hey," he says, mistaking your silence for emotion. "Liefje, I'm fine." He reaches for you, cupping your cheek with a warm hand. You look up at him and find him frowning.

"I know," you say, leaning into his palm. "I know you are. I just -- I don't want it to sound like I'm a whining baby or something."

"Whining baby?" Max gently rubs the skin under your eye with his thumb. "Psh. We've got some of those on track. You couldn't come close to them if you tried."

That gets a laugh out of you and he cracks a smile at the small victory.

You sigh. "I was scared," you admit, voice soft. Max presses a little closer to you, his hand falling from your face to catch yours, fingers twining together.

"Are you always scared?" he asks. "You're more tense on rain weekends, I can tell that much. But you've never really talked about this. I guess I--" He frowns again. "I've never really asked you."

"That's okay," you say. "It's nothing, really."

Blue eyes bore into yours. "No, I want to know," he presses. "Please, tell me?"

You tip your head back a little, eyes on the ceiling. How to say it?

"I guess I'm always a little scared, yeah," you say. "I don't know how I wouldn't be."

He tugs on your hand so you'll look at him. "What is it, do you think?" The question comes out in his typical way. This must be how he is in driver briefings, you think fleetingly. Max is analytical, methodical, always looking for the root of the problem so he can understand it and adapt.

But how do you explain this?

"Well, it's a dangerous sport," you explain. "As you know. And I -- Max, I love you, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

The furrow of his brow lessens a bit and he presses a light kiss to the back of your hand. Your stomach flutters, even after all this time.

But Max has no time for your mooning, apparently. "Were you scared before we knew each other?" he asks.

You think about it. "It's different, I guess. I was worried, generally. For all of you. I'm still worried for all of you, but --"

His eyebrow quirks and he fails to hide a cheeky smile. "Me the most?"

You roll your eyes and squeeze his hand. "You the most. But don't tell Carlos that."

Max tuts. "So, now it's just worse? You feel it more?"

Nodding, you try to explain. "I don't even like watching on TV, now, because I'm so far away. I feel so helpless."

You can't make it to every race but you try your hardest, not only to support Max but for your own sanity. It's easier to calm yourself down when you're around other people who believe in him, when you have access to all the details and when he's only a few steps away when he's out of the car.

"I don't want you to be worried," he says, softly. "You don't let on that you are when we say goodbye before the race, aside from being a little tense."

One of your favorite pieces of race weekends -- those few moments when all of his attention is on you. He makes sure you have everything you need and leaves you with a kiss and a smile and a see you later. His confidence and his competence are like balms.

"When I'm looking at you, I'm not as stressed," you say, a bit shy. "You're very good at your job, you know. And your confidence is convincing."

"I know," he says, seriously. "That's why I know it'll be fine. Do you not know that?"

If he was less determined, you'd ask him to drop it, since you're starting to feel embarrassed. But you know he won't let it lie.

"I know it, too, Max." You reach for his face to push back some fringe from his forehead. "I'll always be worried about you, though. You get in the car and drive away and I just -- sit there. And wait for you to come back."

He frowns, deeper this time. You keep your hand on him, cupping his jaw and running your thumb along his stubble.

"And I love it. You know I was a fan before I met you and it's a dream to be there to watch you race. I love seeing you do crazy things like win from p17. It's so much fun."

He knows this about you. You've got a bit of a reputation for your facial expressions in the Red Bull garage, always the first on your feet when he overtakes, jumping up and down when he extends his lead. It's an infectious kind of joy and energy and you lean into it every time, even if your stomach is churning with anxiety.

Max is quiet for a few moments. He covers your hand with his and leans into it further.

"You trust me, right?"

"Of course," you say right away. "Always."

"I've never really thought about it," he says, slowly. "I mean, in the car. I don't worry about you because I'm not worried, so I just thought you knew not to be, too."

"I'll always worry, Max. Even though I trust you."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Your cheeks heat and you look away from him, pulling your hand free to cradle it in your lap.

"You've got a million other things to worry about besides me," you say. "I don't want to distract you."

Max says your name with a scoff, literally waving his hand as if swatting away your silly notions. "Distract me? Come on," he says. "I wouldn't be a three-time world champion if I could get so easily distracted." He leans into your space, nosing at your jaw. "Even if you are very distracting."

You allow the attention for a few moments before pushing him back with a laugh. His cheeks are flushed, hair a bit of a mess, like after he takes off his helmet. And, god, he looks relaxed. You're so proud of him you can hardly stand it. The season is almost over and you know he's got a lot of work ahead of him, and you've got a lot of worrying. But he's motivated, and you know he can win. You know he'll come back to you.

Max leans his head back on the couch and casts his gaze sideways at you, nose scrunched. "I can't fix this, can I? You're still going to worry."

He sounds so resigned, so disappointed in himself that you tug on his hand so he'll get closer. This time, you frame his face with your hands and kiss him, just a light press of your lips to his. Both of you sigh into it, and you drag your mouth along his cheek until you reach his ear.

"I'm still going to worry," you whisper. "But I love you and I trust you. And I know it'll be okay."

Max sighs and presses his forehead to your shoulder, practically pulling you into his lap so he can wrap his arms around you.

"You better hope it doesn't rain for the rest of the season," he mumbles.

"That damn VSC," you groan, pulling back from him a bit. "I was going to tear my hair out!"

Max laughs. "It kept things interesting," he says lightly. "Rain isn't really a problem for me, schatje, you know this --"

"Because you're Dutch, I know, Max." You roll your eyes. "Even Fernando couldn't keep it together! I mean, the gasps from the garage when --"

The seriousness of your conversation fades as you trade tidbits about the race -- you've done this already, hashed it out in the hotel room and the flight home and in bed since Sunday. Max watches you talk, elbow braced on the couch and his head resting in his hand. His eyes sparkle and you know you're amusing him as he corrects you on the turn names and who went in the wall when. Max loves you: you've never doubted this. He loves you and he cares about how you feel and doesn't want you to be worried.

And while you will be, because you love him, you know that it'll be alright.

"Hey," Max says, interrupting your opinions about start procedures. "I love you, okay? Thank you for worrying about me."

"Graag gedaan," you say. Well, you try to say. Max laughs and corrects your pronunciation. You're welcome, he says, over and over, a kiss to your cheeks, your nose, your forehead each time. Ik houd van je. Your lips, your neck, your jaw.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

[felassan]

Lucanis and Crows snippets, under a cut due to spoilers.

How would Viago and Teia react to a Crow Rook being romantically involved with Lucanis? "Teia is going to plan the wedding, and insist that Viago give Rook away at the ceremony. Viago will sigh dramatically, lecture Rook about it, and then spend a week picking out the right gloves to wear." [source]

With Rook romancing Lucanis, is it possible that Spite could become affection or benevolence? "Spite's basic aspect is defiance. He can be more or less difficult depending on influence (rebellion vs. vindictiveness, etc), but at his core he's always going to be a spirit of "NOPE"" [source]

Lucanis' mother was the heir apparent to House Dellamorte [source]

Does Spite have any kind of feeling about Rook? "Spite is fond of Rook in his own Spite-like way. He and Lucanis agree on the point of trusting Rook over and above other people or themselves. He does go to Rook for help with Lucanis, after all." [source]

For the Lion King reference in Murder of Crows, Mary Kirby went to the cinematic animators and described it as Illario's "Scar at Pride Rock" scene [source]

User: "I cut Lucanis' hair and shaved his beard and I almost feel like I should apologise to him" / Mary Kirby: "Now he can't tell himself from Illario, and you've given them both a complex." [source]

Teia and Viago were half-written by Mary Kirby and half-written by Luke Kristjanson [source]

Lucanis likes his coffee black [source]

Would he judge your coffee order? "As long as it's not boiled, or instant coffee, or whatever that stuff from a can is, he's fine with it. Or at least, he will only judge you silently for it." [source]

What kind of treats does Lucanis like? "Sweet, because it goes better with his coffee. Savory, if somehow he is NOT drinking coffee at that moment." [source]

Lucanis grew his beard and long hair while in the Ossuary. "He hasn't exactly had a haircut in a while." [source, two].

Would Lucanis make Powerpoint presentations about jobs or to talk? "No, he doesn't want to talk to anyone, let alone explain things and present them. That's 300% an Illario thing. That man has a powerpoint to introduce his powerpoint about why you should listen to his powerpoint." [source]

"Lucanis would never be on social media. He'd be on YouTube watching videos of people restoring rusty cutlery with no dialogue until four in the morning." [source] Could he tell when content is manufactured? "Yes. And he gets upset and finds Bellara or Neve (whichever is unluckier) to rant about it." [source]

Lucanis' favorite stove burner? Right front [source]

"Spite doesn't have any concept of physical appearances. It looks the way Lucanis sees himself. Lucanis is never relaxed, even in casual wear." [source]

Along with Lucanis Mary Kirby also wrote Spite [source]

Mary Kirby wrote Illario, Luke Kristjanson wrote the Crow faction quests [source]

Lucanis' perfect date night? "I'm gonna be honest: There is a non-zero chance it would involve assassinating somebody and getting coffee, and I'm not entirely certain which would come first." [source]

Lucanis "has so much [trauma] to sort through, and he could really use some help. Like, a Marie Kondo level of help with that." [source]

What sparks joy for Lucanis? "Coffee, paella, wyverns, knives, REDACTED, book club, REDACTED, revenge..." [source]

[theirstookmyfamily]

Heads up, longer post, just some ranting.

Tl;dr: Protect yourself and others first, then we can fix the fascists, usually they're deeply hurt people which is why they fall into right wing populism, people are products of their environment, they're not stupid, just ignorant. But still fuck them, and their existence in such a state makes me depressed.

I am sometimes a little sad *for* people who fall into fascism. I personally think that everyone is a product of their environment, I'll look at a Trump supporter and just feel like this deep melancholic pity for them, just "Oh, usually with you lot, you grew up in a small town, mostly white, everyone around you talked about 'bad groups' so you learned to hate those groups, often you'll have been abused by those around you from a young age, which teaches you to believe in a natural hierarchy, 'parent is better than child, so parent *deserves* to hit child'." It just kinda makes me sad, like, jesus dude, you got so fucked up as a child you became a neo-nazi, fucking hell man. But I also can't help but get pissed when they try to hurt other people, and rightly so. I just wish we could help them, this is usually better for a 1 on 1 person to person thing, maybe even stop them from becoming that in the first place. But for now we need to focus on preventing them from harming others, we can fix them later, but it's more important to protect ourselves and others first.

There's a lot more I want to say, but I got tired of typing on mobile, and this type of conversation is usually better had with words rather than text, it also is basically just a rephrasing of a contrapoints video I saw a few months ago and was just thinking about again. I am unoriginal, my bad, yo.

I actually can't stop thinking about how the losing party last election dressed like vikings and tried to break into the white house and the losing party this election are sharing suicide prevention hotlines

[theweewooshow]

I really want a fic where Buck decides he's going to romcom Tommy into wanting to fight for them by showing up literally everywhere Tommy is so he can't forget about him or get over him

like karaoke trivia? Buck's already at the table next to the table Tommy's group normally sits with a sheepish looking Eddie sitting next to him

BBPU games? he's there cheering everyone on from the sidelines (no ankles will be hurt this time!)

Muay Thai? he makes Eddie bring him to the studio where Tommy practices and spends half the night ogling him and half the night dodging fists (he really doesn't know the first thing about Muay Thai)

the Lakers game Tommy got him tickets for? he shows up at Tommy's door two hours before the game because he thinks he's going to have to convince him, but Tommy opens the door already dressed, with a fondly exasperated expression on his face

the plant exchange/repotting workshop Tommy mentioned once in passing while they were still together? Buck is there even though he's not sure Tommy will be. (he does show up and he sits next to him and calls him Evan as he helps him with the plant he brought along to repot and Buck is trying so, so hard not to get his hopes up, but Tommy's hand brushed his and he looked happy to see him and and and)

they keep this up for a while and it's good having him in his life still, but Buck obviously wants more and he thinks Tommy does too so maybe one night, months later, after karaoke trivia when they're waiting for their Ubers, a little buzzed and laughing at some joke one of Tommy's friends made earlier, buck's heart feeling too big in his chest seeing Tommy look happy, he kisses him. it's misaligned and sloppy because they're both smiling, but Tommy kisses him back after a moment. the smiles melt from their faces and the kiss deepens and suddenly there are tears in Buck's eyes

they cancel their Ubers and sit on the curb and they talk, finally, months too late, but maybe it's actually the right time after all because Tommy comes into it understanding that Buck is willing to fight for him, for them.

and Buck says Tommy deserves to be happy, that they both do, that they could find happiness together if they let themselves. and Tommy's been running his whole life, but maybe he doesn't want to run from this anymore, maybe he wants to try staying for once

[tlbodine]

So, Things Are Terrible and You Want to DO SOMETHING

The election is over and, ah...did not go well. While a lot of folks are doing a post mortem of the campaigns and trying to understand what happened with the vote and fighting over who shoulders the blame, we've gotta turn an eye toward the future and figure out, okay fam, where the fuck do we go from here.

I don't have all the answers on this, and I'm not an authority by any means, I'm just a horror author with a blog. But I've been thinking a lot about it and I wanted to share my thought process with others who might want to DO SOMETHING but feel they're spinning their wheels.

Buckle in. This will be a long one.

Step One: Understand the actual risks and stakes.

I think it is very easy to start panicking now about the worst possible case scenario -- jackbooted military busting into the door to disappear everyone who ever said something mean about Trump or bought a banned book or something -- and let fear turn into inaction.

I'm not saying things can't get that bad, and I'm not saying that it won't be absolutely terrifying right out the gate for some particularly at-risk groups -- but the distance between "now" and "V for Vendetta" is long and filled with a lot of intermediary steps. There will be so many opportunities to prevent the worst case scenario.

I say this because, if your mental image of "Bad Things Happening" is The Purge, it will be easy to wake up on inauguration day, look outside to see that the world is not on fire, think, hey, maybe things will be okay after all, and then completely disengage. Alternatively, you might feel so frozen with terror at the possibility of persecution that you do nothing. This is why people are saying: don't obey in advance.

It is essential for those of us with more privilege to use it to take care of those who are more vulnerable.

So. Who is most vulnerable? What does that vulnerability actually mean? What are the most likely risks of Trump's presidency? Here's a Guardian article that I think does a good job of summarizing some of the main issues. Go read that, then come back here.

Step Two: Take steps to protect yourself

You've gotta put your oxygen mask on first, right? So before you start getting involved in other causes, figure out what risks YOU are at, immediately, and do as much as you can to secure yourself. Some potential action steps depending on your circumstance may include:

Renewing your passport (helpful for leaving the country, but also for gender/name change purposes)

Getting vaccines / boosters

Securing birth control

Ensuring your necessary papers (birth certificates etc.) are where you have access to them.

Drawing up legal paperwork for spouses/partners (always a good idea, a helpful safety measure in case you lose marriage rights)

Bolstering your data privacy and online security. Here's a step-by-step guide I found that could help with that.

The specific steps you need to take here depend on what risks you, personally, face. You'll want to do some more research into this for your particular scenario.

No matter who you are, though, it's probably a good idea to start saving money and being a little more conservative with your spending and/or pay down debts to free up some cash. You don't know what kind of emergency may befall you, and having spare money for an emergency is never a bad idea.

There is a possibility that the cost of many things you rely on might go up, if Trump goes through with his tariffs plan. You will want to plan for that.

Food costs may also rise due to tariffs (we import a lot of food from Mexico and Latin America for example) as well as a loss of immigrant labor. There is also a possibility that food safety standards could fall due to overturning regulations. Now would be a good time to look into local food resources like farm share/CSA, community farms, etc., and to stock up on a few key staples like rice and beans.

Okay. Now that YOU are reasonably safe...what can you do to protect your community?

Step Three: Get Involved

Here is your mission: You need to stay engaged enough to know what's going on, without burning yourself out or exhausting yourself, and to take actual decisive actions instead of wasting your energy arguing on the internet.

Got that? Okay. Good. Here are some action steps:

Support independent journalism. Subscribe to local papers, donate to and watch public broadcast programming. I signed up for news from ProPublica, for example, as well as the news-roundup service What The Fuck Just Happened Today. The goal is to stay informed without falling down an endless rabbit hole of upsetting information.

Share news and resources with others in your circle. This can be a good use of social media. It's what I am doing right now!

If it is safe for you to do so, challenge and educate your friends/family members/neighbors/coworkers. Only if it is safe for you to do so. Do not put yourself at risk doing this. And do not waste your time arguing with people who are unlikely to change. But if you have well-meaning people in your life who you think could be won over, look for opportunities to do this - the right way. I've had some success with this, I will probably write a guide about it in the future. In the meantime, here's a good article that can help.

Join local grassroots activism groups. You'll have to do some work to decide what groups to join and which causes you want to support, because you cannot do everything. But there are tons of organizations taking direct action in all kinds of causes. Search "grassroots [cause] activists in [where you live]" to start finding things. Once you get involved in one group, you might meet people who can introduce you to other groups and causes. Yes, this means you will have to go outside and meet people. I'm sorry.

Join direct action groups. Same concept as above. You'll have to search in your area but once you know people it'll be easier to find more opportunities. Some of these groups may overlap. You might find direct action opportunities by engaging politically and vice versa. GO OUTSIDE AND TALK TO PEOPLE WHO ARE DOING THINGS TO HELP.

Get involved in local politics. Here are some quick tips. A lot of things are affected at the city level - stuff like book bans and bathroom bills are often battled first at local libraries and schools, and you can be part of those conversations! Sheriffs are elected and can have a big influence on local policing. Local elections affect how tax dollars are spent, how homeless populations are treated, and lots more. Don't snooze on local elections. Get involved and stay involved.

Look up your representatives. Get in the habit of calling, emailing, and writing letters. Figure out what legislature is being passed and then call your reps and harangue them about it - both to support bills you approve of and shoot down ones you don't. Sign petitions. Join email campaigns. Here's one you can go sign right now from the ACLU. See? Not that scary.

I think a lot of people figure that getting involved in politics doesn't matter or that it's all small potatoes but...man. The president is not god, no matter what he thinks. The sitting administration is not the sole power in the universe. There is an entire machine of government we can lean upon and act upon.

Finally, some general safety notes:

Some forms of direct action are not legal. Take steps to be safe if you choose to partake. Follow the lead of more seasoned activists for what forms of communication to use and so forth.

If you're not willing or able to put yourself at legal risk to act, you can help others by donating to bail funds and legal defense funds.

We've already seen this in some areas, and it will only get uglier - some bad actors are feeling emboldened by the change in regime and will misbehave. It's a good idea to learn some self-defense skills, in whatever way is comfortable to you, and brush up on some tenets of victimology that can help you stay safe. I'll write more about that in the future.

All right. That's all for now. It's by no means comprehensive...but should hopefully help you get started taking the next step. Stay safe out there.

[ennabear]

BAE. i absofrickenlutely NEED you to write something along the lines of decorating sevika with crimis boas and lights and whatever, maybe while she's sleeping idfk- and have her be like 😠 butt because reader is so cute and sev loves them sm, she can't hide her smile OR WHATEVER THE FUCK I SAID U KNOW WHAT I MEAN😭😭

i also made this for you. um. idk. it's not very. crimis sevika, but more crimis if it was sevikamas. imagine her trapped in an ornament ok plu shut ya face now bai luv u o masterful sevika writer

HAIII PLUTOBAE HEHEHE thank you for this idea, you cooked fr!!!! i’m featuring jinx in this because i’m a sucker for the found family trope and also her ass would LOVE to prank sevika LMAOOO 😭 AND THANKS FOR THE ORNAMENTS I’M HANGING THEM ON MY SEVIKAMAS TREE!!!!

one last thing, idk if they celebrate or even know about christmas in zaun so just pretend they do for a sec… thanks guys!!!

potential s2 spoilers under the cut!! read at your own risk!!!

sevika’s been stressed out of her mind. she’s not used to having this much power, but with silco gone it’s necessary. she’s also had no choice but to take jinx under her wing, which she’s not exactly thrilled about, especially now that jinx has taken her own little cub under her wing too. exhausted is an understatement. she’s got no clue how to lead a rebellion, and much less how to parent.

so you feel a little bit mean for what you’re about to do, but your wife deserves some giggles in these hard times, no matter how pissed she’ll initially be. jinx giggles as she tiptoes toward sevika’s slumped over form, her snores echoing through the room. you hope your wife enjoyed her sleep while she could.

jinx pokes her a few times to make sure she’s sound asleep, and if anything it only pushes sevika deeper into her slumber. you coo at your wife, she finally looks so relaxed after these past few weeks. jinx sticks her tongue out and pretends to gag at the affection you show to your wife, but she quickly switches back to excitement when you hand over a long rope of sparkly red tinsel.

she wastes no time in wrapping it around sevika and tying it to the chair with intricate knots. sevika doesn’t wake up as she gets restrained to the chair, not as you lift up her heavy new arm and wrap it in brightly colored lights, not even as jinx sticks a few shiny bows to her head. “ready?” she asks.

“ready.” you laugh, preparing yourself for the way sevika’s gonna bitch and moan when she wakes up. once jinx presses a few buttons, the loudest version of ‘get jinxed’ booms through the room, and you jump back in surprise. it’s so loud you swear the whole building shakes, and sevika’s awake in an instant with her arm rattling to the sound of the bass.

“turn it off, jinx!” she shouts, wiggling against her restraints in an attempt to cover her ears. “JINX?”

as soon as she catches sight of the blue-haired girl clutching her stomach in a fit of laughter, she looks like she’s about to smash the kid to pieces. “JINX!” she shouts over the music, “TURN IT OFF.”

jinx rushes over and shuts the music off before her own eardrums blow out, but quickly returns to giggling hysterically. “merry christmas, sevika. you’ve been jinxed!” she laughs. “you should’ve seen your face! i didn’t think you could look any angrier than you already do!”

“what the fuck is this!?” sevika shouts with that deep growl that you love in her voice. “what the fuck is wrong wi—” and then she sees you. you’re laughing nearly as hard as jinx, and she can’t help but gawk at you. your smile is her favorite thing in the world, and it’s the only thing that’s keeping her going lately, but how could you be so cruel?

taking advantage of sevika’s surprised, annoyed, and offended state, jinx ties a new string of white lights to the back of sevika’s chair and starts running around her in circles. “you’re in on this?” sevika asks you.

“well, yeah.” you admit, stepping closer to her. your wife gasps and blinks at you blankly. “how could you?”

“you were asleep,” jinx cuts in. “that’s what you get for falling asleep on the clock.” sevika sighs at this, closing her eyes to keep herself under control before she can spew insults at jinx. “i’m not ‘on the clock’ you brat. it’s early in the morning, and i wouldn’t be so tired if you knew how to clean up your own messes.”

you settle yourself on sevika’s lap, slinging your legs over her as she tries and fails to wrap you in her arms. “you look cute.” you say. “i don’t look cute. untie me.” she demands. you ignore her, instead picking up a few ornaments and hanging them from the little half-ponytail in her hair. jinx notices this and practically flies over, sticking a few snowflake shaped hair clips in sevika’s hair.

you can’t help but laugh at your wife, she looks exactly like a christmas tree. if trees could scowl and pout, that is. jinx joins you, stepping back to admire her work beside you. sevika’s lips twist into a flat line, her eyebrows so low they’re about to make contact with her eyes. it’s been a while since you’ve felt a true familial love, but this feels real and warm to you. you giggle even harder as a sudden love for your girls floods your heart, and sevika shakes her head at you in disapproval.

jinx shoves a mirror in sevika’s face, and this time her lips slightly twist up in the corners as she tries her hardest not to smile. she’s glowing with the amount of lights on her, and the amount of sparkly ornaments and clips hanging from her pisses her off even more. it’s ridiculous. and hilarious. and she loves you guys so much, no matter how unwilling she is to admit it.

“don’t smile…” you tease. “don’t you dare smile, sevika. don’t do it.” she shakes her head again, refusing to make eye contact with either of you and instead staring at the floor.

“i’m not… smiling.” she says, holding her lips as straight as she can. you sit yourself in her lap again, holding her close as she muffles her not-smile in the crook of your neck. “you love us.” you accuse. she sighs with a defeated giggle, a smile brighter than the lights wrapped around her body finally settling on her face. “i guess you’re right. get over here, you fucker.” she mumbles, gesturing with her head for jinx to join in the group hug.

jinx reluctantly walks over and wraps her arms around sevika as loosely as she can, although you know deep down that they both love each other more than they pretend to. you smile, pressing a kiss to sevika’s head and ruffling jinx’s bright blue hair.

“pull anything like this again, and my arm will chomp your heads off. both of you.” sevika threatens, although she means it in the most loving way possible. “that’s my arm.” jinx corrects, flicking her in the forehead. “and maybe next time you should try falling asleep in a bed.”

[ailelie]

The Wolf now is Concerned. He isn't invested. He refuses to be invested in humans. Humans are food, not friends.

And yet. This utter sad sack needs help and Hairy McLumberjack is too busy fussing around with trees to do more than look in and tut occasionally.

And, it isn't like the Wolf can roam much. He had a serious surgery to get Steven out of his stomach. He needs recovery time.

It only makes sense that he recovers at Steve's. It's all Steve's fault anyway, if you think about it.

Steve is still mourning his relationship with Denise and dealing with his recent near-death experience. The latter would be easier if the cause of said-near-death experience hadn't decided to take over Steve's bed.

The Wolf is a demanding and infuriating roommate, but the more time they spend on bickering, the less time Steve has to feel sorry for himself. He ends up developing a new passion for cooking out of pure spite--he will prove to the Wolf that there are many better options for eating than 'raw human.'

"So raw my heart was literally still beating, Wolf."

"The better to warm my stomach, Steve."

It is when Little Red is visiting again, more than a week after the Wolf last felt a twinge of pain in his torso, that everything changes again.

"Mama said to invite you to dinner, Uncle Steve," Little Red says. "You can come, too, Uncle Wolf."

Steve and the Wolf meet each other's horrified gaze as they both realize the domestic comfort they've found and created in each other.

That night, long after Little Red has returned home, the Wolf says he's leaving and he goes.

For the first time in weeks, Steve doesn't have to share his bed.

(After the first few nights when the Wolf had claimed his bed, Steve decided he was not going to be forced to the couch again. They each dared the other to leave the bed if they were 'too uncomfortable' to share. Neither left. Neither ever admitted, in the weeks that followed, how nice it was to have someone else there.)

He can't sleep.

In the morning, he eats some berries for breakfast. Lunch is a leftover soup. Dinner is more of the same.

Cooking is less fun on his own, less fun when he doesn't have the Wolf stealing his ingredients and making sly comments from the side.

Meanwhile, the Wolf is in the forest and utterly refusing to admit that his rabbit is a bit gamey, that its flesh would be better shredded with a spicy sauce and served over whipped potatoes. He is a Wolf. He doesn't need cooked food. He doesn't want it.

The flesh and blood are warm in his mouth, but they do not heat his belly like one of Steve's stews. The forest is so unreasonably cold.

And lonely.

"He tried to eat me, Laura," Steve complains to his sister, Little Red's mother.

"From what I understand, he successfully ate you. That lumberjack cut you free, no?"

"The lumberjack! Now, he would make sense. He's handsome, right? Saved my life even. If I had to-- why couldn't I have--" the words won't come out. Steve's never been attracted to anyone male before.

Until the Wolf.

His face flushes bright red and his sister sighs. "You could do worse than that Wolf, Steve."

He buries his face in his hands.

The Wolf goes by the cabin when he knows Steve will be in town, attending the dinner Little Red had invited them to, the dinner that ruined everything.

The ice box has no ice and the plants inside are limp and shriveled. A stew pot, crusted with the dried remnants of broth, sits on the stove. Another pot is half-full with congealed oatmeal.

The Wolf refuses to feel guilty. He is a wild creature. He is not meant to live within four walls like some domesticated dog.

He washes the pots and tosses the ruined vegetables and herbs. It is during this last task that he runs into the lumberjack.

"Glad to see you're back" the Lumberjack says. "He's been missing you."

I'm not back, the Wolf wants to snarl, and, What business is it of yours? Instead, he says, "I don't belong here."

The lumberjack shrugs. "Well, I don't know about that. I think we belong wherever we love and are loved."

"So, what, you're having a love affair with a hundred trees? Do you chop them down after you break-up?" It isn't his best line, but the lumberjack laughs anyway.

"My love was turned into a tree and hidden in this wood. Someday I will find and free him from his curse. Until then, my job gives me more than enough time to search."

"So you're saying it could be worse," the Wolf says. "I could be in love with a tree."

The lumberjack's smile broadens and he nods. "Instead you're only in love with a man."

It is only then that the Wolf realizes what he'd said. The truth of it warms him inside out. "I'm going to go back inside."

He doesn't say he's going to stay. That's what he means anyways.

The next morning, carrying a basket of leftovers, Steve returns to his cabin. He is dreading being alone again, but he cannot live in his sister's house.

He wants the Wolf. He doesn't understand how or why the Wolf has become so important to him, but maybe that doesn't matter. He just wants that strange and frustrating beast back in his kitchen, his bedroom, his life.

He has decided to track down the Wolf just as he's opening his cabin door.

And the Wolf is there.

Glass shatters as the basket falls from his hand. The Wolf's coat is warm and musky under his hands and cheek. His snout presses cool against Steve's neck. His claws prick lightly along his back. Steve can barely think for the utter relief flooding through him.

"I'm back," the Wolf says, unnecessarily. He is holding Steve as tightly as Steve is holding him.

Neither can quite feel embarrassed by their reactions to one another given the other is reacting quite the same.

"Good," Steve says. "Stay."

"Wild creatures don't belong indoors," the Wolf warns. He wants to stay, but some fear lingers. He can only promise now, not forever.

Steve, though, is unconcerned. He steps back, looking his Wolf in the eye. He lifts a hand to his Wolf's maw and traces a thumb along the seam of his mouth, the same mouth and sharp teeth that had once devoured him. "Since when," he asks, "have you cared about arbitrary rules?"

The Wolf flicks his tongue against Steve's thumb. "Since when, indeed."

inspiration struck in a really, really weird way

[littleprinces]

Day 12: Age Gap

Haerin x Male Reader

Kinkvember Day 12

She was sitting alone at a quaint coffee shop in Greenwich Village, her eyes scanning the crowd as she sipped her latte. She was new to the city and hadn't made many friends yet. As she looked up from her book, her gaze met mine. I was a 40-year-old man with a lean, muscular build, and I couldn't help but be drawn to her youthful charm.

"Excuse me," I said, leaning over her table. "I couldn't help but notice your book. Are you enjoying it?"

She looked up at me, a slight smile playing on her lips. "Yes, it's a classic. Have you read it?"

I nodded. "Many times. It's one of my favorites."

We spent the next hour talking about literature, art, and the city. Haerin was intelligent and witty, and I found myself increasingly drawn to her. As we left the coffee shop together, I suggested we continue our conversation over dinner. She agreed, and we walked to a nearby restaurant.

Over dinner, our conversation turned more personal. I learned about her dreams and aspirations, and she asked about my experiences in the city. The chemistry between us was palpable, and as the night wore on, I found myself wanting her more and more.

"You know," I said, leaning closer to her across the table, "I've really enjoyed our conversation tonight. But I have to admit, I'm finding it hard to concentrate on anything but you."

She blushed slightly, her eyes flickering with a mix of surprise and excitement. "Is that so?"

I nodded. "Yes. In fact, I think I'd like to see you again. And not just for dinner."

She raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on her lips. "Oh, really? And what did you have in mind?"

I leaned in, my voice low and husky. "I think you know what I'm talking about, Haerin."

She held my gaze for a moment before her eyes flicked down to my lips. "I think I do," she whispered.

The following week, Haerin came over to my apartment. As soon as she walked in, I could see the desire in her eyes. I poured us some wine, and we sat on the couch, our bodies close but not yet touching.

"You're beautiful, Haerin," I said, my hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've been thinking about you all day long."

She leaned into my touch, her eyes never leaving mine. "I've been thinking about you too," she admitted.

I leaned in and captured her lips in a soft, gentle kiss. She responded eagerly, her lips parting to allow my tongue to explore her mouth. Our kiss deepened, becoming more passionate and intense.

I broke away from her lips and trailed kisses down her neck, feeling her pulse quicken under my touch. She moaned softly, her head falling back to give me better access. I nipped at her earlobe, making her gasp.

"You taste so good," I murmured, my hand sliding up her thigh. "I want to taste more of you."

She shivered at my words, her breath coming in short gasps. I unbuttoned her blouse slowly, revealing her smooth, creamy skin. I leaned down and captured one of her nipples in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it before sucking gently.

"Oh, God," she moaned, her hands tangling in my hair. "That feels so good."

I switched to her other nipple, giving it the same attention. Haerin's body was on fire, her hips moving restlessly against mine. I could feel her heat through her jeans, and I knew she was ready for more.

I unbuttoned her jeans and slipped a hand inside, finding her wet and ready. I stroked her slowly, my fingers exploring her folds. She gasped and bucked against my hand, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"You're so wet," I murmured, my voice thick with desire. "I can't wait to taste you."

I slid my fingers out of her and brought them to my lips, sucking them clean. Her eyes widened at the sight, and I could see the desire in them. I pushed her back onto the couch and slid down her body, my hands gripping her hips.

I hooked my fingers into her jeans and panties and pulled them down, revealing her glistening pussy. I leaned in and ran my tongue along her slit, tasting her sweetness. She moaned and arched her hips, giving me better access.

I licked and sucked at her clit, my tongue swirling around it before flicking it lightly. Haerin's moans grew louder, her hands gripping the couch cushions. I slipped two fingers inside her, curling them up to hit her G-spot.

"Oh, God, yes," she cried out, her hips moving in time with my fingers. "Right there, don't stop."

I kept up the pressure, my fingers moving in and out of her while my tongue worked her clit. Her breath came in short gasps, her body tensing as she neared the edge.

"I'm close," she panted. "So close."

I increased the pressure, my fingers moving faster and harder. Haerin cried out, her body convulsing as she came. I lapped up her juices, savoring her taste.

I stood up and undressed quickly, my cock rock hard and ready. Haerin watched me, her eyes filled with desire. I climbed on top of her, my cock poised at her entrance.

"Are you ready for me?" I asked, my voice gruff with desire.

She nodded, her eyes locking onto mine. "Yes," she whispered. "I'm ready."

I pushed into her slowly, giving her time to adjust to my size. She was tight and wet, her pussy gripping my cock like a velvet glove. I groaned at the sensation, my hips moving slowly at first before picking up speed.

"You feel so good," I grunted, my hips moving faster. "So tight and wet."

Haerin wrapped her legs around my waist, her hips moving in time with mine. "Faster," she begged. "Harder."

I obliged, my hips slamming into hers as I fucked her hard and fast. The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the room, our moans and cries echoing off the walls.

"Oh, God, yes," Haerin cried out. "Right there, don't stop."

I could feel my orgasm building, my cock throbbing inside her. I reached between us and rubbed her clit, my fingers moving in time with my hips. Haerin's eyes rolled back, her body tensing as she came again.

"I'm going to come," I groaned, my body tensing as I pushed into her one last time. "I'm going to fill you with my cum."

I came with a roar, my body shaking as I filled her with my seed. I collapsed on top of her, our bodies slick with sweat. I rolled off of her and pulled her into my arms, our bodies still joined.

"That was incredible," she whispered, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest.

I smiled, my eyes closed. "It was," I agreed. "And I'm not done with you yet."

We spent the rest of the night exploring each other's bodies, our passion and desire never waning. As the sun rose, we lay entwined in each other's arms, our bodies sated and satisfied.

[xinganhao]

✏️ film major!mingyu x reader.

"the greatest films of all time were never made"? not if your ex, film student mingyu, can help it ✶ part of my svt university milestone event

⤿ college exes, exes to friends. more content under the cut. ♡⸝⸝ prompt from @taeraegyat & @gyubakeries!

DIR. BY KIM MINGYU

FADE IN INT. CINEMA '76, LOBBY - DAY

MINGYU enters with his DATE. MINGYU's eyes go wide when he notices YOU at the cinema's snack bar.

DATE Do you want some popcorn?

MINGYU (hesitant) Uh… Isn't it kind of expensive?

DATE shoots MINGYU a look. He heaves out a longsuffering sigh.

MINGYU Okay, I'll get us some.

MINGYU makes his way to the snack bar. YOU look up. His eyebrows furrow, because he can't read the look on your face as well as he used to.

MINGYU Hey, look—

YOU (interrupting) Welcome to Cinema '76. What can I get you?

MINGYU feels his heart drop in his stomach. He wants to explain, but then DATE comes up to him.

DATE Can you get us some soda, too?

MINGYU wishes he hadn't noticed the slight change in YOUR expression. But YOU keep YOUR cool as you go to punch in the order.

YOU A large popcorn and two sodas. Anything else?

MINGYU I—

DATE And a pack of M&Ms, please.

YOU Got it.

MINGYU watches helplessly as you go get their snacks. When YOU return, he wordlessly hands over the payment. The tips of your fingers brush.

MINGYU (softly) Thanks.

YOU only give MINGYU a nod in response. He winces slightly when DATE grabs him by the arm.

DATE We'll miss the previews!

MINGYU Right, right.

MUSIC UP: "You Were Beautiful" by DAY6

MINGYU lets DATE drag him off. He casts one glance over his shoulder at YOU, except YOU'RE not even looking at him. Somehow, that's even worse.

INT. CINEMA '76, CINEMA 1 - DAY

The film is one of those cheesy romcoms. MINGYU thinks about how YOU had introduced him to his favorite romcom; how the two of you used to spend hours and hours debating over which was best.

His DATE leans over a lot to comment on things, he notices.

DATE (pressing close to MINGYU) I think Glen Powell is severely underrated...

MINGYU laughs, just a bit, because in his mind's eye, he can see how YOU would react to that opinion. He's also imagining the look on YOUR face if YOU saw somebody talking during a film.

YOU only allowed movie commentary if it was in the comfort of YOUR home. Otherwise, in public places like cinemas? YOU would glare daggers at anybody who dared.

DATE (CONT'D) ... And that's kind of like Sydney Sweeney, isn't it?

Crap. MINGYU has no idea what DATE had just said.

MINGYU (whispering) Yeah, I agree.

DATE seems placated. Close call, thinks MINGYU. But he's also thinking about how the two of you would argue about everything. How YOU would never back down on YOUR opinion, and how he adored YOU for all YOUR convictions.

DATE goes to hold MINGYU's hand. He almost flinches away. But that would be rude, so he awkwardly lets them hold on.

It's cruel, but throughout the movie, MINGYU bears it by imagining that it's YOUR hand instead.

INT. CINEMA '76, LOBBY - EARLY EVENING

MINGYU emerges from the movie with DATE. He immediately drops their hand.

MINGYU Hey, uh, I think I was short on change from the cashier. Mind if I go check on that real quick?

DATE Oh, sure. I'll wait for you by the entrance.

MINGYU Thanks.

MINGYU rushes back to the snack bar. YOU'RE nowhere to be found. He checks his watch; YOUR shift has probably ended.

MINGYU (underneath his breath) Damn it.

MINGYU had wanted to explain. He does the next best thing. He fishes out his phone from his pocket and pulls up your contact, which is still your name with a heart emoji. He hasn't changed it after all this time.

He types and retypes several texts. When did you start working at Cinema '76? and You looked good and Can we talk, please? and I wished it was you during the entire two-hour runtime of the film.

In the end, he only sends out an I'm sorry.

MINGYU puts his phone away. He wanders back to DATE, who greets him with a helluva good question; they're looking at the posters for upcoming shows.

DATE (absentmindedly) How do you feel about sequels?

And, again, MINGYU is thinking of YOU.

MINGYU I think they're always worth a shot.

FIN.

[sulumuns-dootah]

Can I request a headcanon of whb king (plus any other characters you want) reacting to gn mc avoiding them for as long as she can because mc got dared to by some random demon

WHB kings' reaction to MC avoiding them because of a dare

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Hi! This was so fun to write since each king had a completelly different reaction ^^ Sorry for the long wait though t-t

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Oh, Satan doesn't like this at all

The moment he notices your suspiciously long absence, he's on the prowl

Where are you and why tf are you avoiding him?

He'll even send out Amy and his group to look for you and bring you to him

Hopefully he'll during his search find out about the dare

At least hopefully for you

Poor demon who dared you will find himself homeless after Satan in his demon form destroys his place

Once that's dealt with, the next time you go outisde, you come face to face with Satan, leaning back against his bike

"Talked to that mf. The dare's called off :)"

    ༺☆༻

Mammon notices that you haven't been around him much, but he just chalks it up to you being busy

He's okay with it, knowing that eventually you'll come back to him anyway

Besides, if you needed something, you'd surely call him

After finding out that it's a dare, he's also curious how long you'll be able to keep away from him

If he ever gets worried about you, he'll just send one of his nobles to check up on you

Once you're back to him, he's taking you out for a dinner to congratulate you on how long you lasted

    ༺☆༻

Leviathan knew from the beginning thanks to Foras

You don't even get to leave the Hades castle so it's easier for you to avoid him when you get a message from the devil who dared you that the dare is off

It doesn't take a genius to realise that the poor demon had been visited by His Majesty himself and forced to end your dare early

Most likely, if you video-called with him, he'll be gasping for air, hung by a noose

The next time you see Leviathan, he acts like nothing happened, but you can feel his piercing stare when you're not looking at him

He's most likely not sure how to punish you yet...

But once he does...

Oh boy, now comes the moment to avoid him for the sole sake of your survival

    ༺☆༻

Funny :)

You think you can avoid Beel? :)

I mean, technically you could do that by hanging around in the Abyssos castle, but even then you can't exactly avoid Beel

If Beel wants to see you, he'll come and see you

Doesn't matter where you are or what you're doing

Even if it means that he'll have to sneak through his own castle to escape Bael's wrath

And even more so, if he finds out about the dare...

Oops, he just reminded he meant to take you to this place and booked it in advance and can't cancel it

Sorry, guess you'll have to spend the whole month with him :)

I guess the rule with Beel is that the more you want him, the less he'll be around

(True story with my pulls for his cards tbh T-T)

    ༺☆༻

Belphie would probably realise that it's been a while since you were there when he woke up, but eh...

Maybe you're just busy doing your work

No sweat

That is until Beleth accidentally slips up about the dare

Oh?

Now that is something different

Prepare to start dreaming about him every night

That'll eventually make you come back...

And if not, don't worry...

Belphie's ability can bring you back anytime, so enjoy your time away from him before he decides this little game is over

    ༺☆༻

Keeping away from Asmo is honestly your day-to-day task, so I don't think there's much difference

That is until you realize that it's time for another annual king meeting

The real challenge becomes coming up with a good reason to excuse yourself from it

And all the nobles are helping you at this point

Sure, you could just not go, but Asmo might then leave the meeting to come and see you since he was so excited to meet you after so long

In the end Leviathan coems to save the day and hides you inside his coffin for as long as the need be

Phew

You're safe for another year

    ༺☆༻

To Lucifer, not seeing you for a long time is a good thing

It just means you're healthy and safe

But he does eventually start to miss you

And then Gamigin talks a bit too much and mentions that you've been avoiding Paradise Lost because of a dare

So whenever you need medical assistance one of the nobles has to do a house call

...

A house call?

That sounds unsanitary

Who even knows what germs and bacteria you might catch

Lucifer better make his way over to you for a surprise visit to make sure you're doing well

And no apples can save you from this doctor

[local-demon-in-your-area]

Alright, this post has gotten super big and attracted tons of controversy and weird opinions so I thought I would clarify my position one last time :

No a militarized intervention, be it UN, US or whoever else, isn't a good idea. Bombs are never the answer, violence is never the answer, forcing an enormous change on people who's culture and ideas you don't understand is never the answer.

It seems the Malala Fund is seen as controversial for reasons that are unknown to me at the moment. In the meantime donating to Women for Afghan Women or to RAWA for those who can or want is still a good thing.

No Islam and religions aren't necessarily the problem. I am atheist myself, although raised in Christianity and while I absolutely believe that religion can be used and is used as a weapon in the world today, I do not believe that blaming them (instead of the people fostering an unsafe environment using them) is helpful.

Afghan Women don't necessarily want to live European/US women and that should not be the goal. The goal is for them to be safe, first and foremost, and have a choice as to what they want. The biggest thing that feminism can do is listen to Afghan Women. What do they need ? What can we provide ? They are the ones living in the situation, they know best than anybody.

Afghan Women being part of an Islamic culture doesn't mean that everything happening to them is normal or desired. The Taliban regime arrived by force and rules by force. Their society is not built on solid foundations, and without change it's certain that it won't last long. The problem is the damage they will do until it crumbles, and the damage that will be done while it's happening. The main victim of catastrophes are always the ones at the bottom of the social pyramid and in Afghanistan, it's Women. That's why we're fighting with them.

To clarify : I am against the very idea of a social pyramid. But because it exists, it has to be taken into account when deciding how to deal with things and how to provoke change.

I've had some wild comments about transidenty somehow so : to know if Afghan trans people are in danger, ask Afghan trans people. If you look at what witnesses and refugees are saying, all trans people are in danger. No they're not the danger. No transwomen are not just men trying to touch women by hiding as women. They face the same stigma as any other woman, and can be treated even worse when outed. How did you all decide they were the problem or that Afghan Women could just "become trans" to escape the oppressive regime like. How. Please. What the hell.

Stop being mean. I'm just a person who made a post on tumblr. This post may have gotten big but I still don't have the influence of other bloggers or people reblogging this post. I can't monitor everything. I can't even look at all the reblog because I don't have time. I can't answer everything. If you feel wronged because somebody said something in the reblogs, confront them, not me.

Once again I insist : I tried to educate myself but I can't guarantee I knew where to look and remembered it all correctly. Once again, I am just a random person on tumblr. If you think I should truly know something, you can go to my asks directly, otherwise there's a chance I won't see it. I don't know everything, be kind.

I'm not american. Stop bringing the whole "Americans say this because they want to invade" argument, I'm not fucking American. I don't think of myself as a saviour. I don't think of myself as better. I just made a post about an info I saw that was bugging me, and needed to express just how wrong it felt somewhere. Don't assume I have or should have all the answers. I'm not even old enough to vote in my country. Keep that in mind when interacting.

This is one post out of hundreds people will see today. Yes it has an impact, but that doesn't mean it somehow makes me responsible for every single deranged idea somebody may have when seeing this. The average person will just like this post and move on with their lives, whether you think it's good or not. When interacting remember that I can't be expected to carry everything on one post's shoulder, nor that this post will somehow determine how people see Afghan Women for the next 30 years to come.

The amount of comments and people deciding that I was responsible for all of this because I made one fucking post about the subject is making me sick so. This is the last time I interact with my own post. I will stop responding or looking at reblogs and comments. I'll keep this post up because I do hope it reaches somebody who decides to donate or join local action to help but for the sake of my mental health (once again, just a random teenager online) I will not update it any longer.

And please remember that supporting local actions will always be more helpful than arguing with some strangers on the internet

This has been a psa or whatever

Women can't speak to each other in Afghanistan

Women can't speak to each other in Afghanistan

Women can't speak to each other Afghanistan

Women. Can't. Speak. To. Each. Other. In. Afghanistan.

No conversations

No hearing another woman's voice, no hearing her speak or pray

No way to share experiences no way to ask questions no way to organize

And if you ban education then they can't communicate by writing either

Women can't speak to each other in Afghanistan

Women can't communicate with other women in Afghanistan

People can't communicate with other people

That's how low we've gotten

Please don't forget about them.

[pinkykoo]

Jungkook fic recs

these are my favorite fics on this app, some make me laugh and kick my feet, some make me wet my panties, there are also some that make my tummy hurts but not much because i'm weak and can't stand angsty fics:(

enjoy<3

i'm going to start with my favorite writers, i actually like all of their works (go take a look at them) but the ones on this list have a special place in my heart</3

@girlygguk <3

-no in that way-| a s f | one-shot

in which you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, min yoongi. meanwhile, your other best friend, jeon jungkook, is hopelessly in love with you.

-needy-| s f a | series

hiding his feelings when you didn’t even know his name was hard. hiding his neediness and obsession when you finally did know his name and you were his fucking girlfriend? impossible. well, then it's a good thing you like him needy.

-denial- | f s a | series

you and jungkook both agreed in the beginning that your careers are far too hectic to commit to anything serious, but you can't shake the shitty ache in your chest every time the high wears off, or when you're crawling out of his bed in the middle of the night. trying to exile the shitty feeling of longing that you harbor for him, you spend time with another one of your guy friends. jungkook sees, and he's mad.

-first class- | f s a | one-shot

in which you are just another spoiled, bitchy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby who has everyone at Yonsei University eating from the palm of your hand. and jeon jungkook, your spoiled, fuck-boy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby best friend, is always first in line to take a bite.

@awrkive <3

-cold nights and blurred lines- | f s | one-shot

jungkook and you have been keeping a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

-the love prognosis- | a f s | series

for as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

@springalwayscomes <3

-closer- | f a s | series

To have each other close is something that you both always wanted, in a way or another. It’s just that… close is not close enough anymore for Jungkook.

@hoseoksluna <3

-wine- | s a f | series

both of you have a party to go to, but jungkook makes you needy again.

@noteguk <3

-bad influence- | s a f | series

in which you know Jungkook is a bad influence on you, but you can’t avoid falling for him every time.

@gukslut <3

-cream & sugar- | s f a | series

stepping into this coffee shop was either the best or the worst idea of your life. You know that barista, you know he’s great in bed. You also know he’s the biggest asshole you’ve ever met.

-every kinda way- | s f | one-shot

three little vignettes, three completely different experiences, same perfectly wonderful boyfriend JK.

-the jorts- | s f | series

jorts, you, jk, love, lol.

more (very good) fics from different writers:)

-the lucky one- | a s f | series-ongoing by @babystrcandy <3

growing up you only had one goal: beat Jeon Jungkook. Sometimes you'd win, other times you'd lose. Sometimes he'd lose, other times he'd win. But you'd both walk away from the match thinking the other was the lucky one.

-cable management- | s c f | series by @19pancakes <3

your job is more hassle than it’s worth. Horrible layouts, even worse cable management and to top it all off... There’s extremely rude (and hot and weirdly cool?) men staring at your ass in the hallway. You’re also hungry.

english it is not my first language (maybe you noticed, lol) sorry in advance if there are any mistakes:b

I will add more over time, bye. xoxo

[midnight-bay-if]

What would the ROs do if they woke up to find the mc had left the room to sleep like on the couch or something because they didn’t want to wake the ROs up with nightmares?

S: Their eyes flutter open, noticing the hand they rested on your waist now clutches the cold sheets where you once lay. They do not hesitate to search for you but are stricken by what they find. You, curled into a ball on the couch, whimpering in fear from whatever haunts your dreams. It's a familiar picture, and it pains them that you feel obligated to bear it alone when you have been so gracious with their own nightmares.

Without a word, S carefully manoeuvres themselves on the couch so their chest is pressed against your back. They slide one arm under your head while the other cradles your arm, intertwining your fingers in theirs. "Do not isolate yourself needlessly, darling," they whisper, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. "We are aware of one another's darkness, yet here we remain. Please, do not starve me of my strength."

Rain: Rain is a light sleeper, so the moment the mattress rises from the lack of weight, their eyes flutter open to find you perched on the edge, readying yourself to leave. Before you can move, however, Rain reaches out, laying their hand atop yours, tugging your attention.

"Can't sleep?" They ask with a bleary smile.

"Nightmare," you repeat wearily, "It's okay. Go back to sleep. I'm going to sleep on the couch."

Rain's brow furrows, their lips thinning into a displeased frown. "Please stay. I don't like sleeping alone, you know?" They lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand that they hold. "If you are concerned about your nightmares keeping me awake, you needn't be. When alone, I do not sleep at all. I finally rest when I am beside you. Stay."

Taj: It takes until the morning for Taj to realise you sneaked out of bed in the night. Expecting to gather you in their arms the moment their eyes open, they are disappointed to find your side of the bed long cold. Grousing, they drag themselves out of bed to go hunt for you. They find you already in the kitchen making a pot of coffee, dishevelled hair and dark circles under your eyes.

"Didn't sleep well?" Taj queries, a cold stare you recognise all too well. It's the look of being perceived.

You shrug, trying to play off what you know they have already seen. "Nightmare," you offer, a slither of the truth, "but I didn't want to disturb you, so I tried sleeping on the couch."

Taj snarls, closing the distance and wraps their arms around your waist, resting their chin on your shoulder. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Pretend. I hate it." Their breath hitches. "I didn't even realise you were gone. I hate that, too. Wake me next time."

"You know you hate it when I wake you."

"Not if you're scared. Not if you need me."

N: N stretches their limbs, cursing the crick in their back as equally as the hard lumps in your mattress. They really must convince you to purchase something a little more luxurious. You'll thank them later. Their eyes flutter open, expecting to see you pressed closely to them, your rhythmic breathing lulling them sweetly back to sleep. But you are gone. Instinctively, they want to reach out with their mind to locate you, but they push it back down. Boundaries.

It's still dark, but N has no problem navigating it. The apartment is small, so figuring out where you have gone doesn't take a genius. Moments later, they find you curled into a ball, shivering and whimpering in your sleep. They tut, shaking their heads.

"I really wish you would ask for help, my dear," they whisper to themselves, kneeling until they are level with you. They press a hand to your forehead, allowing some of their warmth to seep into your skin. "Allow me to lay to rest whatever is troubling you inside that noggin' of yours, love, or at least let me stand beside you. Do not hide from me."

Umbra: Usually, Umbra spends their nights curled up at your window or lying beside you, guarding your sleep against those who might impose. It mostly depends on you. They like watching you fall asleep pressed against them because sometimes, on occasion, they allow their own eyes to shut. They do not need to, but being with you inspires hopes of ordinary domesticity; it reminds them to live.

But it never lasts long. The moment you shift in your sleep, and the fidgeting and the whimpering starts, Umbra is awake and alert. They once asked S what they might do to help in such a situation, but there is no magic cure, just reassurance. "I am here," they whisper, unsure if you can hear. "You are safe. You are safe." The words are a safety net they sometimes question whether they know how to wield.

You wake with a start, shoving yourself to the other side of the bed, chest heaving and hands shaking. You stare at Umbra, eyes wide, fear gripping your throat. "I'm sorry. Did I disturb you?"

"No," Umbra replies simply. "You never could."

"Would you prefer me to sleep elsewhere?"

"Why would I prefer that?" They query, cocking their head to one side. "I cannot protect you if you are anywhere else."

(Hopefully this was okay!)

[eldritchgriffin]

As an ADHDer, I have experienced pretty much all of this. As a person who has now convinced two separate people to get tested for ADHD, resulting in them getting diagnosed, absolutely look into how you can get tested if you relate to even half of this.

Also, I frequently experience over/understimulation, so here's some Eldritch ADHD Advice. The most important thing is to become aware of when you are over/understimulated.

Some indicators of understimulation are boredom, difficulty focusing, or your mind wandering. The critical part is realizing that you losing focus is due to not having enough to focus on, not due to having too much to distract you.

Signs of overstimulation include feeling overwhelmed, disengaging from conversation because you can't find the energy to join in, and wanting to go somewhere quiet or lie down.

Now, for the actual advice:

The way I think of it is that my brain requires a very specific level of stimulation at any given time. Different tasks offer different levels and types of stimulation. The trick is figuring out what kind and how much engagement something takes.

As an example, I cannot listen to podcasts if I am not doing anything else. Podcasts are an audio only experience, and not one I have to actively engage with, so I struggle to focus on them. In the other direction, I can't listen to podcasts while driving, because driving requires too much focus, and I can't pay attention to the podcast. The balance I've found is podcast combined with a simple task or game. Cleaning is good as long as it doesn't require much thought, and for games I'll usually choose something like sudoku, nonograms, endless runners, or similar - nothing that requires reading though. The important thing is that it gives me something to look at and keeps my hands busy.

If I'm having trouble doing a task because it doesn't stimulate me enough, I'll try listening to (usually instrumental) music, or if the task requires audio, finding something to fidget with.

For overstimulation, noise-canceling headphones have been a game-changer for me. Also, know that sometimes it's okay to just leave. If you've been at an event for long enough you're getting overstimulated, and you don't need to stay longer, you can just go home, or at least find somewhere quiet to unwind for a bit. As the skeleton says, "if it sucks, hit da bricks."

This turned out much longer than I had planned lol. Hopefully at least some of it is helpful!

bro im gonna CRY i didnt know this 🥺