#but speech never does anyways

[alchemistc]

Who's writing the unrequited buddietommy fic where Eddie only realizes he's in love with Buck on Buck and Tommy's wedding day so he tries to fuck Tommy about it?

[towersofviolet]

i think sam's intro/outro speeches could cure me of any ailment

[pinkinsect]

aryu and tokimitsu are so special to me actually

[ghostbeam]

Fwb with Oliver who expects he’ll have to break things off once you get too attached but it’s worth it for a little fun except u never get too attached in fact ur the one who has to tell him it’s over bc he’s gotten too clingy

[kitchensinksurrealism]

thinking about my favourite chord progressionnnnn

[flintbian]

Someone talk me out of putting "my other car is a fucking warship" sticker on my wheelchair

[orcelito]

Also remembering that I get to write wolfwood next chapter and I'm a widdle nervous bc this is a Big Moment and I only wrote him a little bit with Sentido and it's been 8 months since then

But im also REALLY excited bc I get to finally (FINALLY) start executing the vashwood concepts I'd thought up at the damned START of this fic

So much relationship development to get to. So much Wolfwood to get to. Very exciting things.

[mimiatmidnight]

Will you be commenting on the Taylor drama?

I love the way this was worded, like I'm one of the siblings on Succession and the press has cornered me outside my penthouse to ask if I'll be releasing a statement on my family's latest scandal. Hehehe anyways.

Sorry but I just don't understand how anyone is shocked. Truly what has that woman ever done to successfully convince people that this is out of character for her. Like I don't want to diminish anyone's pain or anything but I see all these stans on here and over on Twitter in all this distress, having their very first epiphanies like "Hold on . . . does Taylor . . . suck??" And I kinda just have to chuckle at them cause like bless your hearts babes, but omg catch UP 😭

Lol because 1) she is a severely emotionally stunted person who thinks edgy British "bad boys" are hot like she's 12 years old, 2) she has no true deeply-held moral principles outside of issues that directly affect herself, and 3) truthfully, she seems to be suffering from a serious crisis of identity after the end of the longest and most significant romantic relationship of her life, and in my opinion is pretty clearly desperate to prove something to the world/her ex/herself.

The first reason is cringe but not news to longtime viewers, the second reason is pathetic but also not news (to those who can be honest with themselves), and the third is . . . understandable in some sense, but not pitiable enough to make me willing to humor this insufferable little episode she's having. I wish her luck on this humiliating rebound journey, but she is gonna have to walk that road on her own.

Normally, I always roll my eyes when people make these kinds of jokes, but given the circumstances I feel justified in saying: I can't wait to hear the breakup song about him, sis 🤡

[down-thedrain]

"this world will live on...!" girl no it wont im sorry

[siderumincaelo]

#i mean honestly............. salute to ppl who connected to amy.....#but this is exactly what makes the storyline (blagh) and sexist for me sldkfjsd#this whole implication that growing up = settling down#the way the camera oogles at her kissogram outfit .... even in these caps.... it's just gross man#and rory's viewpoint is always set as ''the right one'' and eleven as ''the wrong choice'' / ''an escape''.#and the actual like... childhood trauma and mental health stigma angle#which i do dig and this post mentions#... it's just left by the wayside? like lbr. only time it is is really confronted is TGWW ep#which saves amy's story in the second half time but then is like... pointless cause that amy dies dslkjdfk#i dont know man#i like amy and again i think the *interpretation* that some ppl have about amy's plot are cool#but much like with like. thirteen's era... i dont feel these come to fruition by the end. i feel they get kinda lost by other things#(love triangle angle. ''settling down / comforming is growing up''. the whole baby trauma ignored. etc)#anyway lol and people in the tags like ''aaaa if you dont like it is because you didnt get iiiit''#nah thanks man i did get it. that's why i didnt like it sdlkjfksld (via @brilliantfantasticgeronimo)

amy pond: on beauty, ageing and birth ( part two here )

[ all text with grey background is from the lovely @amelia​​​​ <3 the most accomplished amy scholar of our time || the eleventh hour, flesh and stone, meanwhile in the tardis, amy’s choice, S5 draft of the doctor’s wife ]

[feral-aether]

Some vent writing because work decided to turn up on its head the last two days

Not done, just taking a break so my wrist stops being numb.

[lollich0p]

Never forget what they took from us (the southern accent I had as a child)

[arcturianview]

im still pissed abt Viktor being told "nooooo don't try to cure your terminal illness!!! dont try to fix your leg!!! you're beautiful because of it"

there was a way to write this that didn't feel gross. this was not that way. with more time; with him actually overstepping bounds and pushing on in spite of it instead of immediately becoming suicidal; with this desire to "fix himself" shown more to be because of external pressure instead of a desire to stop his escalating pain and impending death, i could have found this to not feel awful. but it does.

maybe just pointing out his leg as an example could have worked. especially if it was more heavily demonstrated that his desire to walk without mobility aids was rooted in insecurity (perhaps he proudly shows off to people that he can now walk "normally")

but using his terminal illness as an example is just gross. just "be happy you're going to die young because its part of what makes you who you are" GIRL WHAT???

especially when his terminal illness is rooted in systemic issues... eh. feels bad man.

[pynkhues]

I'm really, really sorry that happened to your friend, anon. I hope they were able to recover and get justice for what happened to them, and that you've been able to work through it too.

Thank you :) I'm not close enough with her to necessarily be privy to all her deepest feelings, but as far as I can tell, she really is fine and has been for a long time. She's a teacher and doing really well.

And yeah, I don't feel that way--like I'm looking through that filter--anymore, and a big part of that (not to overshare, but hey, maybe someone will read this and it will help them?) was getting diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder. Since I was a kid I'd felt like violence and death were always lurking, to a degree that was illogical, and then the attack on my friend made that worse because it seemed like oh, I was right to feel that way. But getting worse eventually led to a diagnosis, which has led to getting a lot better! :)

(x)

I'm really glad both you and your friend are doing better and that the diagnosis helped, anon! It's wonderful when diagnoses give us not just a vocabulary and tools for what we experience, but an understanding of ourselves and I guess, context?

Not the same exactly, but my littlest nephew has a severe speech disability which has gone through about five almost-diagnoses and multiple tests which is crazy given he's only 6-years-old. He finally got an actual diagnosis a few months ago (childhood apraxia of speech, or CAS) and while there's complicated feelings involved in knowing talking isn't going to be something that'll ever be easy for him, even just getting to understand it better as a motor disability as opposed to a cognitive one has been extremely useful in helping us to support him in using his voice.

He doesn't really understand what his diagnosis means yet (although he knows people outside of the family struggle to understand him) but it's helped get him into more specific speech therapy and, if my sister wins relocation in family court next month, there's some social groups here in Melbourne where he can hopefully be around kids who are experiencing the same disability (it's a rare one, and there ae just more kids with it in the city) and understand what he's going through as he grows up. So yeah! It's pretty cool when a diagnosis offers not just pathways forwards, but a deeper understanding of self and points of connection too.

[eraserbread]

your husband, nanami, never spoke much. until his three-year-old daughter started ✧

→ toddler dad nanami, fluff

on his day off, it started before the sun rose. he's tucked by the waist in bed, sleeping beside you, his maternal, gorgeously caring wife.

it's not abnormal for your daughter, rin, to stumble out of her bed since she retired the crib, but it is abnormal for her to blatantly wake kento up. but he wakes up—he's a good dad, and his little girl probably had a nightmare.

"daddy... daddy's sleepin'?" her little voice calls from his side of the bed, too small to see over the mattress, but faithful, what she heard was true -- his voice last night after she went to bed.

ken's rolling over in bed, pressing the heel of his palm into his eyes. looking over at you, you're dead to the world. completely knocked out. "yes... daddy's sleeping, my dear."

it takes her a second, shuffling on her little bare feet. she can't really reach the side of the bed, but didn't know how to say she wanted up. instead, she chews on her thumb and demands, "rin, too."

so kento sits up, half-awake as he stretches over the side, scooping her up under the arms.

"daddy, did you work today?" kento grunts as he settles rin in a straddle over his chest. his eyes are shut, but he peeks them open to see his little girl, smiling at her ruffled sleep hair.

"yes, love."

"what do at work?"

"a lot of meetings with very annoying men."

"what does tha' mean?"

"it means i had to deal with people I didn't like. it's something of a learned skill, unfortunately. one day, you will have to answer to annoying men, though I have faith you will know how to handle them." kento's speaking with his eyes closed, his deep, slow voice low as rin settles over his chest.

she doesn't register half of that, just content with listening to her favorite person talk. so, when she gets comfortable spread across kento's torso, she thinks about her daddy at work talking to you when he gets all grumbly.

"daddy."

"yes, darling?" kento's standing at the stove as you prepare breakfast that morning, hot cup of dark coffee in his hands as rin stumbles in.

she's holding a half-eaten rice cake you gave her to hold her off, barefoot and bearing it like a prize. "my rice cake is b-brown."

"you know why that is? it's because it's chocolate flavored."

"daddy?" she continues, taking a step closer to him. "are you drinkin'?"

"mhm." he replies, taking a cool sip of his coffee. "where'd you put the sippy cup mom gave you this morning?"

the sound of your name, and you're peeking over your shoulder, blindly tending to your sizzling fish as rin runs back to her room. "anyways, other than that, her teacher says she's doing great in speech class."

"mm, i know. she talks just as much as you, now."

you can't even pretend to be shocked at his choice of words, but you hang your mouth open like you are.

"daddy! look!" rin skids to a stop in front of him, ivory sippy cup held high and proud above her head.

"alright, take a sip—just like daddy, see?" ken squats down to toddler-level, still so stoic and mindful when he's sipping noisily at his coffee. rin joins in, suckling through her straw with a similar noisy fervor. she's a tiny shadow of her dad—that's all she wants to be, with her hollowed cheeks, concentrated arch in her sharp brow, and the proud smile she exudes when kento praises her.

she's so happy. all she ever wants is her busy dad's attention, and even when he's tired or weary, kento is always sure to give his love exactly what she wants.

"yay! my baby! you're just like daddy!"

[lologoinsolo]

Main Masterlist, Cats and Their Men Masterlist, Part 2

Thinking about Simon with a runt of a kitten and it’s barely the size of his palm. Also thinking about the poor cashier that’s stumbling over her words when that hulking man has a kitten fisted in his palm and he just jerks it forward.

“U-Uh, sir, we can’t— I can’t keep that.” His eyes make you shrivel up and you delicately hold the little kitten in your hands. “We uh— the store can’t hold animals we only sell the stuff that animals need.”

He looks at you like that’s not what he’s wanted to hear. Granted you’ve had a couple people come up to try and surrender or drop of their animals like it’s a pound. “I need things for the cat.” He says and you feel like maybe you shot yourself in the foot.

You have a line piling up behind him but no one seems to dare speak up. Why would they when this guy could lay them flat out? Jesus what are they feeding this guy? Steroids and protein powders? You think before swallowing thickly. “I can… I can get my coworkers to—“

“No.” He reaches forward and you flinch when he picks up the kitten and holds it to his chest. “You’ll help.” Nodding off and he starts to walk leaving you dumbfounded and confused. He walks a couple steps before he turns to you with a ‘well?’ look on his face.

You hurriedly grab your pager and call for someone to go through the line while you help this guy. Leading him down the aisle for the litter and you list off the different types. “There’s crystal litter, wood pellets and those are pretty good when it comes to smell. We have tofu litter and that—“

“Does it need something fancy to shit in?” He cuts off the beginning of your speech with a huff. He sounds a mix of annoyed and amused with how you bristle from his remark. You’re tempted to leave, your manager can bitch later about you doing that butttt the kitten against his chest meows and you find that you can’t leave the little thing to suffer because their dad’s a right prick.

“Sir,” you take a breath, “the litter is moreso about preference. Do you want to hide the smell of their… ya know… poop better? Or would you prefer something that clumps or something that’s easy to clean?” You wait… and wait some more before he finally says.

“Pick one.”

You blink at him and he mimics it that bastard. He just stares the entire time you have this little contest. You’re starting to feel like you should’ve called out of work. You knew today would be horrible, your instincts never lie. “Okay,” taking a deep breath and spitefully picking the most expensive and heaviest litter that your store sells. You yank it off the shelf with a groan. If it’s hard for you to lift then he’ll probably have the time of his life having to lug this home. He doesn’t seem to care about the pricing nor the weight though as he grabs the litter from your struggling arms. He shoves the kitten back to your empty hands. “I—“ you stumble over your words, trying to come up with something but he beats you to it.

“Where’s the food she need?” Lifting it onto his shoulders, the muscles bulging as he holds that thing with ease.

“Well she,“ you cough to keep from ogling too much. “Will need some kitten food and maybe some wet food later on. A good kibble would be good to add later on once she gets older,” holding the kitten up gently and her little green eyes blink at you. You prod softly at her teeth to make sure she can handle those foods. You’re hoping she’s not to young or she’ll need kitten formula. You then check her ears and see some red marks. Noticing the little black specs moving about her neck and you cringe. “And a good flea bath. Poor thing,” petting the little baby as you walk off to grab a flea comb. He’ll have to buy it anyways so you’ll make use of it now. You pick at her fur with the comb and squish whatever fleas that you find, you hate those little fuckers. “What’s her name?”

You’ve noticed he’s as silent as a grave this customer of yours. He’s hardly said a peep besides caveman grunts and nods. If it wasn’t for him nearly against your side then you would’ve thought he ran off. That black surgical mask makes him look like he’s something important. Maybe mafia or something possibly dangerous. But… he did come in holding this tiny kitten and isn’t batting an eye at the things you’ve been telling him he’ll need to get for his new pet. Perhaps he’s nicer than your judgement of him is.

You clear your throat, he probably didn’t hear you since he hasn’t tilted his head down. “Does she have a name?” You ask once more and he pulls to a stop, he had came back with a cart earlier when there were too many things for him to hold in his tree trunk arms. It was comical seeing him try to hold a litter box, scratching post, and various foods though.

He doesn’t answer save for the roll of his shoulders that looks like it could be counted as a shrug. You mouth an ‘oh’ before you mind your business. He probably just found her or he’s gonna foster and send her off. Better to not get attached…

You chatter off the things he’ll need to do. See a vet, get her spayed, make sure she has no health problems, the usual things that you mention to pet parents. The little thing in your hands is a curious thing, she wiggles about constantly. Eager to move and escape your hands and arms. Tiny tail flicking about and the meowing and pawing is cute, makes your heart squeeze when he plucks her from your hands and he holds her close. You push the cart along and stop at the toys and bowl aisle.

“Well,” you pull some toys off the shelf, crinkle toys and mouses that should help with those prey instincts. “She’s a sweetheart. I’d probably call her Bailey,” you smile fondly and his brows furrow at your advice. Grabbing the kitten shaped bowls and hurriedly putting them in the cart when you squirm under his eyes. “Oh uh, my brother always wanted a cat named Bailey. It’s a nice name but if you don’t want to call her—“

“Bailey,” he holds her up a little and the kitten paws at his face. Her little nails snag on the fibers of his mask and he pulls them off quickly. “Better than garbage, yeah?” He speaks to the kitten like a human. There’s a crinkle besides his eyes and you realize he’s smiling but when you catch what he said you drop this cactus scratcher you thought he should buy her by accident.

“Garbage?” You look aghast. You’ve heard all kinds of names but never something like that. Quickly picking the cactus scratcher back up and placing it in the piling up cart. “You’d call her that?”

He shrugs his massive shoulders again. “S’where I found ‘er.” Grumbling his reasoning. He glares at the kitten like she’s the cause of his problems. “Couldn’t sleep with’er howling and rummaging about. Made a mess that I had to clean.”

You blink a bit and now it makes some sense why he’s so… snappy? “Well… maybe she knew you’d get her if she was loud enough.”

He scoffs, “she bit and hissed at me.” He rubs his finger over her head and you notice the little red marks on his hands. “Feisty little shit shoulda left ya out in the cold.” She nips at him and he chuckles something deep.

You can’t help the smile that reaches your face. She plays with his fingers and he doesn’t flinch when she bites hard or digs her nails in. He just looks down at her with something akin to wonder and begrudged responsibility.

You pull him to your cash register and his kitten racks up a pretty hefty bill but he pays for it with wads of cash. You don’t speak on the weird crumbled bills nor the faint reddish brown color. You simply bag his items and put them in his cart. “If you need anything, sir. Come find me and I’ll help, okay?” You can’t believe you said it AND actually ment it. What can you say, you love cats more than people and that little thing won your heart as easily as she won his.

He gives a gruff nod and pushes his cart out with on hand. The kitten is pushed into his coat pocket to hide her most likely from the cold outside. She pokes her head out to give a complaint but he just gently pushes her back in. He leaves without waving and you’re left to wonder if he’ll come back. You kinda hope he does come back.