#disastre 😌

[no-psi-nan]

Does Saiki talk to his friends?

Short answer: Basically no.

Long answer:

According to author commentary, Saiki wasn't initially intended on being a silent protagonist, he was supposed to speak up occasionally. But as the series went on, Asou never really found a good opportunity for Saiki to say anything and so he just ended up making him essentially silent.

As a result, Saiki generally only "speaks" to the audience and a small subset of characters using his telepathy.

Here is a pretty complete list of characters Saiki actually "talks" to:

His immediate family

His grandparents after the power reveal

The Psychickers (Toritsuka, Aiura, Akechi)

Neighborhood kids (Yuuta, the little girl with the dog)

Various animals

You, the audience (he's narrating)

With everyone else, Saiki exclusively communicates using only body language, pointing, and facial expressions. We can see how dedicated he is to his silence when he's trying to convince his friends to not go on a deadly volcano vacation but only throws brochures at them and crosses his arms in an X shape instead of actually saying a word or two to them.

Interestingly enough though, we can tell by Toritsuka's performance that Saiki's friends are used to him saying "yare yare" / "good grief" all the time. Saiki is actually shocked that his friends genuinely think this is normal behavior for him. How does that happen?

Well, it's quite likely that Saiki unintentionally says "yare yare" / "good grief" "out loud" with his telepathy even when he's not "talking" to anyone.

We have two precedents for Saiki's telepathy not being 100% watertight: the manga-exclusive suicidal musician chapter where a song getting stuck in Saiki's head makes it play in everyone else's, and the second light novel where the evil Saiki comments that our Saiki's thoughts leak out everywhere.

This would explain why Saiki's friends are so shocked by him speaking directly them, even if they're sure they've "heard" him speak before – because he exclusively "says" "yare yare" / "good grief" all the time but never joins conversations or talks to them directly.

So after using up a month's allotment of quotation marks, my best answer to this question is really....

Medium answer: Saiki only uses his telepathy to talk to people who know about his powers, neighborhood children who wouldn't be believed, and various animals. Aside from that, Saiki only uses facial expressions, pointing, and body language to communicate with others, though it seems he unintentionally says "yare yare" / "good grief" quite often in a way other people can hear. His "troublesome" line near the end of the series is the only time he's ever spoken directly to his non-Psychicker friends.

[hdminseon-archive]

MINSEON WAS BEGINNING TO WORRY THAT THERE WAS A LIMIT TO HOW MUCH SOCIAL INTERACTION HIS BODY COULD PHYSICALLY PROCESS. he had unintentionally driven niel from one awkward exchange to another, expression betraying remorse in the shape of an open-mouthed grimace, and... things were going from bad to dreadful, but niel was apologizing to him. niel was doing his best to salvage a conversation that was, perhaps, doomed to fail ever since minseon had entered it. and minseon himself had quite a lot he wanted to say, but he was saying none of it, because none of it was processing. everything that fell from his lips was an automatic response, a knee-jerk reaction of "i'm sorry"'s and "it's okay"'s that seemed to cloak any of his genuine sincerity.

he was considering how to tell niel that he wouldn't have survived their last evaluation without him, when niel took the opportunity to pivot to something else. he opened with 'actually...' and minseon felt his heart sink to his stomach. these were not words one would use to preface good news. he knew the way this usually went: having left too much open for interpretation, regardless of whether the explications were fair or not, it was his responsibility to determine if an apology was owed. ( and more often than not, he figured it was owed. minseon was not in the habit of making things easy for anyone, and it brought him an immeasurable amount of guilt. )

but niel did not assign blame, and following his admission, minseon raised his head to level him with a questioning stare. "we are friends," he concluded, somewhat dimly, before realizing this was not something he could decide on his own. he flushed, then preoccupied himself with stabbing at his food to avoid looking into niel's face. "i mean— i... i was never mad. i don't hate you. i actually really like you." he was still frowning. it was not something he was cognizant of. "i do. you're always... patient with me. considerate. kind. 'nd cute. — people talk. and i don't know how, but i keep giving them things to talk about. ... 'm just... sorry that you got caught in the crossfire......"

can't talk about it. of course. "oh, i figured i just wanted to congratulate you." niel said quickly. he wasn't sure if the spluttering was out of surprise or something else. it was hard to get a read on the situation. it shouldn't be so hard. they were the same age. literal days apart if niel remembered correctly, which should mean a certain level of comfort. but there was still the lingering feeling that he'd done something wrong and now minseon was holding it against him. maybe niel had accidentally snapped at him during practice? "i didn't mean to surprise you, sorry."

he picked at the food trying to figure out how to word his question without offending minseon. he was taken aback, however, by minseon's question. "oh, well..." niel's expression fell a little. he couldn't help but be disappointed by it even at this point. he focused on his rice for a moment moreso rearranging the grains than actually eating it. "that's because there's not really anything to keep secret..."

niel made himself smile anyway. "i got a lot of positive feedback though! so i'm sure they'll come up with something." the sentiment rang slightly false even to niel's ear but they weren't really here to talk about that. it was kind of excruciating dancing around the topic. especially if they were going to talk about that instead. it wasn't minseon's fault really, it was just that niel knew he was horribly envious and he didn't want to let that out on someone who hadn't done anythign wrong.

"actually...i hope you don't mind if i'm a little blunt. i don't really know how else to say this." niel said deciding to switch tactics and just pray to god that he didn't offend minseon. "i just heard a rumor that you were mad at me for something during evaluations and people were saying you hate me or something." he was word vomiting a bit but even as he recognized that he couldn't really stop himself. "and i guess i just wanted to ask you if that was true? i mean it's okay if you do. i was just hoping if i did something i could apologize for it. i didn't want to leave anything on a sour note...and we're the same age so i was hoping we could be friends, y'know?"

[crazykuroneko]

Happy 9th anniversary of Florence's How Big How Blue How Beautiful for anyone who celebrates it

And because I make everything about Loustat, this album is Louis' album on NOLA era, and icb i couldn't find fanvid of Loustat with What Kind Of Man

[lumiereandcogsworth]

heyyyyyyy hey wait I forgot I follow up on this, you mentioned there was tea regarding Adam’s dad and his first wife 👁️ is that something you’re willing to share bc I am all ears

ahhhh yes yes yes. my LORE!!!!!!! i am absolutely happy to spill that tea. i did indeed mention here that adam is the product of his father’s second wife, not his first. so let me divulge all the stuff that went down before adam came around!!

so, first, some backstory on louis, adam’s father. he was his father, king antoine’s, firstborn. four years later, he has a brother named adrien. adrien dies of illness around age five, and young louis is devastated, but his father is tough and hard and tells his son to buck up! crying is for the ladies. a few years later, louis’s mother, anne michelle, also dies. louis doesn’t cope well with this at all, but he’s so scared of his abusive father that he hides his feelings once again. soon, king antoine remarries. he and his new wife have a daughter, and they name her genevieve after her mother. they entirely dote on genevieve, completely neglecting louis, leaving him to his own devices. he becomes miserable and cruel, and an entirely reckless young man.

when prince louis is 24, king antoine has a health scare that causes him concern. he fears he may not live much longer, and he sees that his son is in no place to take the throne, should he die. so, he arranges for his reckless son to marry an upstanding young lady, to ensure that louis could become king at the moment of antoine’s passing. louis is less than thrilled about his bride, but when they meet on their wedding day, there is actually a spark between them. her name is agnès claudine marie. she was chosen because their marriage would be politically advantageous, as well as look very perfect to the public eye. louis was all ready to loathe this new wife of his. but he just… didn’t.

agnès was firey and stood her ground. she challenged him constantly and louis was pretty shocked by it. (but also… turned on by it as well.) louis was still a very shitty person, like, agnès did Not make him a better man. but they sort of got along in their own twisted way. they appeared a perfect, prim and proper couple to the public eye, but behind closed doors they were very just… toxic and messy. and what made matters worse was that king antoine died shortly after they were married, so louis had to grapple with his father’s death (sprouting the classic, complicated grief that comes along with losing an abusive father), and handle being king, all while never being mentally or emotionally prepared for it, nor having anyone to lean on in the process. it’s ROUGH.

louis had such a quick temper and was insanely jealous. he got pissed at agnès for even so much as talking to another man at a party, even if he was right there by her side. after the parties would end, he’d throw things and break things and scream at her and she’d scream right back, bullying him just as much as he berated her. these arguments almost always ended in ridiculously hot sex. which is funny and i don’t know why i feel the need to mention it but. as a fake historian it’s my duty to share all fake facts. anyway.

eventually, louis and agnès had a daughter. they named her claudine. louis doesn’t feel MUCH about this, as he very much needs a son to be his heir, but he does care enough about agnès to not completely despise his daughter. he’s a pretty indifferent father at this point. although i’m sure he always made claudine feel fairly useless, just for being a girl.

about six years later, agnès became pregnant with their second child. tragedy struck, however, when she died in childbirth. she delivered a boy, but he did not live longer than a day.

THIS is really the turning point where louis goes from bad to the absolute worst. it’s all buried and complicated inside him but he’s truly devastated by agnès’s death. she was always so alive with passion he just never expected to lose her. and the fact that he loses their son, HIS SON, within a day, it just breaks him for good. he goes from awful to downright ruthless. he grows more wicked toward his daughter, seeing too much of her mother in her and blaming her for it. blaming her too, for not being his much-needed male heir. he also becomes a terror in his court, and in general just a horrible person to be around.

unfortunately at this point, the psychological damage that has been done to him just really causes him to spiral out of control. he’s blinded by unprocessed grief and unfounded rage. and the people are in an uproar! who will be their heir! where is the dauphin of france!! all this just makes him desperate to find another wife to give him a male heir. it’s all he cares about now. so, less than a year later, louis found someone. it was similar to prologue adam’s parties where the villages and towns were taxed to send all their maidens. and renée elizabeth aubert was the only daughter of five children. her parents OF COURSE wanted to give her the opportunity to marry THE KING!

and… it worked. louis saw her and found her to be beautiful. (oh, shall i mention here that he’s 30 and she’s 17?) renée wasn’t as tenacious as agnès but she was gorgeous and held her head high. she intrigued him. (and her mentioning that she had four brothers was definitely a factor for louis.) so, he courted her and married her swiftly.

renée settled into her new life as queen. louis distracted and enticed her with the finest clothes and jewelry, making her feel so very adored. she tried to get along with her step-daughter, claudine, who was around 7 years old at this point, but poor princess claudine was so traumatized from losing her mother and from louis’s abuse, so she didn’t really want to connect much with renée. so, claudine spend the vast majority of her time with her governess, who was basically raising her fully at that point.

soon, renée became pregnant, and successfully delivered a boy! huzzah!! adam is here!!

for a few years, things carry on. louis grows more twisted and disinterested in his wife and children. he hardly sees claudine, and he’s disappointed in adam thus far. (adam didn’t start speaking or walking until he was like 2-3, so louis was convinced he was just “stupid” and they all got worried he was possibly deaf. but renée knew her boy wasn’t deaf or stupid, because she actually spent time with him and could see that his mind just worked differently. and he always looked up at her when she called his name.) regardless, louis was also getting increasingly frustrated with renée, because she kept miscarrying pregnancies. (i think giving birth to adam very nearly killed her, and left damage that just made carrying any future pregnancy to full term impossible.) so, louis was now stuck with a useless daughter and a worthless son and a dysfunctional wife. and he made sure they all knew it! he continued to drink and be abusive. claudine sort of gets out of it, eventually going to live in paris for private tutoring and finishing school.

but! claudine would still come home for christmas, and other events. well, approaching one christmas, louis and renée had been away on a trip for diplomatic reasons. on the trip, renée had caught some sort of illness. when they returned, they kept adam away from her (for fear that the heir would catch it) but unfortunately, princess claudine was there, and caught the illness. renée recovered in a couple of weeks. the princess, however, died. she was 12 years old.

adam was 4, and doesn’t really have any memories of his sister claudine. especially since they didn’t really grow up under the same roof. but anyway, louis is just angered by yet ANOTHER death in this godforsaken family of his. and he, despite caring very little for claudine, IS saddened because she WAS his last piece of agnès. he decided to blame renée, since she’s the one who brought the illness home.

well. time carries on. some years later, when adam is nine and a half, he loses his mother, queen renée, to illness as well. he’s left alone with his father, and you know how the story goes…

anyway my take is that the de beaumont family is quite literally cursed by death and for generations they’re just plagued to lose people but Just Enough survive to maintain the family line. and adam, breaking his own separate curse by the enchantress, does then, in turn, break the beaumont family death curse as well. because true love conquers ALL. thank you 💙

[essektheylyss]

#i think he was busy being the world's least responsible teleporter

Bold statement considering Essek's success rate for teleportation rolls is 83.3% with an average damage per teleportation of 4 hp, all of which were to places he hadn't been.

Meanwhile the Hells' success rate for teleportation rolls (aka not counting the auto-successes for going to Zephrah using Orym as a tether, which did not require a roll) is 33.3% with an average damage per teleportation of 18 hp, all of which were to places they HAD been*.

So sure, his teleportation targets might be higher risk, but it's a bit unfair to call him irresponsible for that when his record speaks for itself!

*I will say, Team Wildemount definitely could've avoided the two mishaps and one off-target result from their initial jump to Jrusar because they definitely had stuff from Jrusar with them, but they did not, and the stats are what they are. 😤

[musicallisto]

hello beloved I hope your shoulder surgery goes well!!! as a little distraction can I please ask for a franco colapinto x driver!reader, enemies to lovers? love u and thinking of u always xoxo

· · · · ♡ BOOM, CRASH! (fc43)

… starring franco colapinto x f!driver!reader ... 2.4k words ... in which you get into a nasty crash, and the first person to visit you in the hospital is the last guy you'd ever imagined being worried about you. ... warnings for crash, hospital, injuries, blood, nothing too graphic i think! reader is a bit of a bully tbhh but it is a cutthroat sport 😌 ... if you haven't noticed already, these are all very self-indulgent for me, and this is no exception.

Ironically, the last words you remember telling Franco Colapinto before you barrel into the wall at turn 12 were “Don't crash it.”

“What?”

“Don't crash it,” you repeat pointedly. “Logan wasn't exactly irreproachable in that regard. Budget cap's drawing closer.”

Your smile is wide but dulcet, not quite reaching your eyes, and your teeth are sharp and gritted. To any inopportune cameras that would be pointed at you right now, you only look like a well-meaning driver giving your rookie teammate advice before his second-ever F1 race... but neither you nor Franco miss the electricity crackling in the hallway outside the driver rooms.

“What makes you think I'm gonna crash it?" the Argentinian bites back, all fluttering eyelashes and wolfish smile. Unfazed, as always. Grinds your gears like little else can. "If anything, you be careful to not crash into me. Since I'm starting ahead on the grid and all.”

“Right, I forget it's your first time in Baku. You'll see what I mean soon enough, anyway.”

Your steps lead you down the hallway and to the garages mechanically, a path you've taken dozens of times, wearing different colored suits, following behind different teammates in stride. And this year's Williams blue would've suited you perfectly... if it didn't come attached with the pretentious goofball traipsing behind you.

You don't even bother looking back when you speak again. You raise your chin and brace yourself for the artificial lights of the pitlane.

“Good luck, or whatever.”

“It wouldn't kill you to be nice, you know?”

“Wouldn't kill you to know your place.”

The door handle creaks beneath your gloved hand, drowning out whatever it is Franco mutters in Spanish on the other end of the hall—”re amargada la piba esta” he mumbles to no one but himself—, and at last you are safe, at peace in the nervous bustle of a garage entirely devoted to you.

Sure, getting a new teammate midseason is a tough predicament to find oneself in: a whole new dynamic to establish, a whole routine to fall into. And newbies always get the chance to make good first impressions; not the girl who’s been sitting in the car for two years. You’d told yourself you wouldn’t mind it—Carlos Sainz will be snatching your first driver privileges next year anyway—but it would be easier to comply if the aforementioned new teammate wasn’t an annoying pain in the ass, flirting and laughing his way through the paddock with that detached nonchalance that believes everyone must be wrapped around his finger, and then having the gall to outqualify you on one of your favorite circuits. On his first-ever time there!

So yes, maybe it’s your ego taking up too much space in the tight cockpit of your Williams, obscuring your vision. Maybe it’s the disastrous grip you’ve reported twice now on the radio—Okay, Y/N, we heard that and we’ll get back to you.

Whatever it is, somewhere around lap 20, your car oversteers into a wide spin right as you enter the rapid turn. The steering wheel snaps out of your hands, and it’s like a giant strangles you with all its might for a blink of an eye, barely even a second.

You only know you’ve hit the wall—hard—from the ringing in your ears and soreness of your jaw. What used to be your front right tire lies in front of your smashed wing, rubber and carbon scattered pitifully. Your finger shakes when you lift it and press the radio button.

“I’m OK… I think.”

A flash of red catches the corner of your eye. You’re not sure if it’s from the flag being waved outside of track limits, a Haas zooming past in the corner, or… it’s hot, and viscous on your eyebrow, dripping into your eyes. You bring your hand to your forehead, where your helmet is crushed inward, just above your left eye. Smashed into your forehead.

Then everything kind of blurs together. You vaguely feel someone helping you out of the wreckage, their distant yapping about concussion symptoms not helping your light-headedness at all. You think you slip out of consciousness for the first time then, on the track still, because your next memory is of an ambulance—or what you assume to be an ambulance, you’ve never ridden in one before, and you even think to yourself this new procedure is pretty excessive from the FIA, the medical car was quite sufficient—and then it’s back to nothingness until you wake up for good on a stretcher, hooked to some sort of medical tube—perfusion?—as you’re being ushered into a quiet hospital room.

The nurse who visits you is sweet, filling in the blanks in slow, accented English. The gash to your forehead is pretty deep, but nothing the surgeon doesn’t see at least once a week! (At that, you lift a groggy hand above your brow bone, where you feel a thick bandage.) A few stitches later and you’re good as new, though the blood loss and concussion combined left you pretty weak, and justify keeping you in observation for the night. It’s just protocol, you’re probably used to hospital visits in that line of work of yours, she jokes—and you know you’ve recovered almost all your mental acuity because you get offended at that. No, you don’t usually crash. In fact, you haven’t all season…

And it had to be today of all days, in Baku… after you told Franco to not crash it.

When the nurse leaves the room with the promise she’ll be back in an hour, you let out a long, dreary sigh. Fernando Alonso’s grainy voice over the radio comes to mind. ¡Karma!

Night falls quickly outside your window with nothing to kill time but your phone. After catching up on the race results—somehow you’re too exhausted to feel irritated at Colapinto’s points finish—and posting a reassuring Instagram story for your followers, you’re left to the mercy of your ruminating thoughts. Sleep is impossible to catch; the adrenaline of the race hasn’t worn off yet, and you’ve been knocked out so long now you’re desperate to leave this stretcher.

You’ve just about decided to call the nurse for an early discharge when a shadow appears behind the door’s little windowpane, hesitates for a second, and then knocks. Medical personnel wouldn’t bother; it’s probably your family, or maybe even Vowles, or…

“Hey, how… che, estás hecha mierda.”

You tense immediately when you catch the brown waves of hair and unmistakable accent as Franco walks into your hospital room. He looks genuinely stumped, like he hadn’t expected to see you in such bad condition, so much so he forgets to shut the door behind him.

For some reason, the sight endears you. Makes you want to take him in your arms, feel his realness in this hallucinatory evening. What a ridiculous thought!

“Stop it with the Spanish,” you protest, devoid of your usual fire however. “Maybe it works on your fangirls, but not on me.”

“I said you look like shit.”

“Oh.” You look him straight in the eye, the silliness of the situation dawning on you, and against all odds you start to laugh. A real laugh, more than a chuckle, one that sends phantom pains stabbing through your sore abdomen. “Well if that’s all you’re gonna say, you can stick to Spanish! I don’t want to hear it.”

What did the nurse say about the anesthesia’s side effects? Do they include feeling a little glad and relieved to see your detested teammate? To know he’s the first person to check up on you?

Whatever the reason, you’re laughing, absurdly, and so is Franco, chuckling to himself as he closes the door and drags a chair closer to your bed. His eyes crinkle like a little kid’s, and that’s when you notice his disheveled appearance. Cheeks a little flushed, hair tousled like he’s just run a marathon, he’s wearing a crumpled-up Williams shirt, no doubt the first thing he could get his hands on after the race. It hits you then that he’s probably just off media duties, and the fact he’s alone, with no team delegation in tow, indicates he left early. Just to get to you. To make sure you were alright.

You are a competitor, but you aren’t a monster. The idea Franco couldn’t be bothered to wait for James, or anyone else, tugs at your heartstrings.

“Thank God you told me not to crash it, huh?” he teases between chuckles.

“Shut up.”

“Careful, Y/N, the budget cap is coming for you,” he wiggles his fingers over your face like a looming ghost.

You turn your head away to face the wall, huffing in exasperation, but a throbbing pain traverses your skull, and you wince. Franco’s eyes darken, smile fading into a grave expression.

You rarely see him like this outside of the helmet. It’s novel, but it’s welcome. Almost attractive, in a way.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I… My helmet smashed into my forehead. I was bleeding pretty bad, apparently, they had to stitch me up. I got concussed too. Aren’t helmets supposed to absorb these hits?”

“Concussed?” he repeats, and holds out his hand in a peace sign. “How many fingers?”

You stick out your tongue at the Argentinian, flipping him the bird.

“And now?”

“Ah, come on, don’t be so mean,” Franco chuckles, scooting a little closer to your stretcher with his chair. Unfazed, as always. But this time it doesn’t peeve you; you’re rather thankful for his cheeky banter, actually. For a moment, in the blur of cold white lights and carbon fiber debris, you’d started to fear you could lose it for good. “We were just starting to become friends!”

“That’s because I’m concussed. I don’t want to be friends with you, we’re rivals.”

“Well the whole rivals thing isn’t working very well for you lately. Maybe you’re better off being friends with me.”

You roll your eyes, but the gnawing anxiety that roars in your stomach whenever someone pits you against the rookie stays quiet for once. Perhaps you’re still under the influence of the tranquilizers… or perhaps those brown eyes holding you in their light, tender in a way you’ve never seen them before, make it harder to get mad at him.

“I’ll consider it.”

And you don’t mean it just yet, but you don’t don’t mean it. What do you even hate Franco Colapinto for? Stealing the spotlight from you just two weeks into his career? Flirting with every living being on the paddock except you? Or forcing you to up your game and face your fears?

A stabbing pain crushes your skull all of a sudden, and you shut your eyes, teeth gritted and muscles taut, to try and breathe it out… to no avail. When you open your eyes, Franco is staring at you, brows furrowed in that same serious, concerned expression that sends a wholly different type of pins and needles through your body.

“Everything alright?”

“No… The painkillers. I need another ketoprofen,” you whine, squinting your eyes against the harsh hospital lightning.

“Should I call the nurse?”

“No, they’re on the table over there,” you gesture blindly. “There’s a glass too.”

Only sounds inform you of what’s going on once you close your eyes, faint lights and colors barely piercing through your eyelids. The rustling of fabric, then someone fumbling with cardboard and pills, your sink opening, and then cautious footsteps stopping at the edge of your bed.

“Here.”

You take the pill between weak fingers and fight with all your might to sit up straight in the bed without moving your head… but the soreness and exhaustion from the race and surgery overpower you. So much for neck strength.

“I can’t,” you huff out in defeat. “I can’t tilt my head.”

“It’s okay. Take the pill,” Franco orders softly, and you put the drug on your tongue, too tired to raise the outrage of him bossing you around.

Slowly, carefully, Franco brings the rim of the glass to your lips, and you drink all that you can, training your attention on the medication going down your throat—and not on your teammate’s intense gaze fixed on your mouth, nor the proximity of your bodies or his slightly ragged breath.

“Thank you,” you exhale when you’re done.

Luckily for him, he has his back turned to you when you speak, setting the empty glass down on the table, so you don’t notice his bashful smile. He’s never heard you so docile, affable, even, and though he likes it when you bite back… it feels great, too, to know there is a way to pierce that armor of yours.

“Franco,” you call out to him, neither of you missing how this is one of the first times you’ve called him by his first name. “Do you mind… staying? Just until James or someone else gets here. It gets so boring.”

He spins on his heels in disbelief, scrutinizing you in search of mockery, or irony, or your usual callousness… but all he reads is earnest and the slightest hint of embarrassment, all he sees is your outstretched hand. So he brushes it with his, not daring to hold it purposefully just yet. Like he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome into your bubble.

“Yeah, sure. But only so you won’t get bored.”

“Of course,” you smile faintly as he sits back down on his chair. Your eyes meet in newfound amusement, maybe even temporary fondness. “Don’t go around thinking I like you.”

“Me? I would never. We’re rivals.”

You give a small appreciative nod, and after some instants of silence, clear your throat and ask him to recount the end of the race. Just as you expected, his storytelling is dramatic and entertaining, interspersed with words he doesn’t remember how to say in English and the unmissable zest of grid gossip Franco always brings to his tales. You chuckle, gasp, and pester even, as much as you can with your aching skull and limbs… and barely notice the minutes ticking by, or how you wish the rest of your team would never show up, your distaste for Franco slaking.

Maybe you can be persuaded into liking his presence, after all. So long as he stays out of the car, though… and remains your personal nurse.

… f1 taglist; @retvenkos @giuseppe-yuki (want to be added? send me an ask!)

[xxvalkyriesxx]

One of the most hurtful parts of acosf was Feyre’s reaction to the hike. At one point she’s laughing because Rhys and Cassian are “secretly” delighted to know that Nesta is gonna hate doing it.

But did she know that her sister wanted to die? Did she know the pain her sister carried for so long? Did she know how quickly things spiraled on that hike? And if Nesta had succeeded, would she laugh at her death (I’m being dramatic, sue me)

Anyway time to reread The Hike by @kale-theteaqueen for the 5th time. This is my therapy for reading such a disastrous book 😌

[resident-sean-expert]

The images are blurry but I don't care :

why has Laszlo painted himself red and please Sean your outfit is disastrous/affectionate

Does he wear a necklace to ward off bad luck ?

queen 👑

It's killing me, they really made it look like a school presentation 🥺

This means that Sean shared his idea with Charmaine and she went for it 😌

he's saying "hello :)"

I love them plsss 🧡 I always thought of Franky as the token straight, but apparently I was wrong lol

Charmaine wearing leopard print gloves :)

I love her coat, I'm sure she lends it to Sean from time to time

[welcometololaland]

Lola I’m sorry your cat baby isn’t well 😔 I don’t have pet pics to share (due to not having pets) but can I interest you in my DISASTROUS attempt to make Tarlos out of some felt that I had lying around? I’d actually blocked out memories that I’d attempted this until I found photographic evidence the other day:

🩷

omg cig...i am losing my MIND over this!!! it's cute but it's also a little unsettling somehow?!?! i think it's the eyes???? explain yourself i need to know more about the inspiration for this creation please!!! and the fact that you disassociated from your creation help im WHEEZING 😂😭

EDIT: I actually think it's very cool you did this and it's way better than anything I could do so hats off to you 😘😌

[no-psi-nan]

Aiura meme:

Akechi meme:

Saiki meme:

Toritsuka meme:

[chiefbeifongcanrailme]

24. "That's a very stupid idea."

for Linumi if you wanna!

Ofc, I wanna. I always wanna😌

“One, two, three- one, two, three- there you go. You still have it”

Lin rolled her eyes. Bumi's arm tightened on her back, almost as if he was trying to lift and place her in position because of her disastrous dancing. Weddings weren't fun. Dancing was even less fun. But, Bumi had asked nicely. It wasn't a pity ask either because she was standing there by herself. It was a uniformed man with slicked-back hair proffering his hand out for a dance with a lady.

She had danced with Bumi before- in fact, he was the one who taught her when she was young.

Feeling her apprehension, he commented to put her at ease. “You're doing good, Linny. You remember your steps.”

“Bumi, I was five.”

“And a natural," he added happily. 

Lin was rigid, focused on her elbows and feet while Bumi glided like the music carried wind. In retrospect, she was probably better off standing in her corner, away from the crowd than making a complete fool of herself in the middle of the dance floor.

She looked at the space she previously occupied. She could afford to zone out only because Bumi was such a good lead. He'd never let her falter. He'd never let her feel worse than she already did- well, knowingly. He was one person who understood- or at least pretended to understand the hefty emotional undertones of her vulnerabilities. 

Coming back to the dance floor, Lin's eyes wandered. She noticed the trio with nothing in common gather together- Suyin, Tenzin, and Mako- watching them intently.

“People are staring,” she whispered.

“Let them," Bumi said nonchalantly.

“I don't like it.”

“You don’t like dancing either, but here you are.”

Lin groaned, stiffening her movements a touch. Bumi simply yanked her forward and forced her body to move with his, and Lin did not like how easily he did that. Or how defiantly her body followed along. 

“I’m going to smack them senseless until their eyes are looking in two different directions.” 

Bumi’s whole body shook with laughter, forcing a growl out of Lin. 

“You didn’t used to laugh at my threats before.” 

“That’s because you weren't threatening me! I am terrified of you.” 

“And yet through all your wisdom you chose to ask me to dance?” She countered with a slight smirk. 

“My wisdom? You think I’m wise now?” He chortled out. 

Lin rolled her eyes. “I was being sarcastic.” 

“Ah, right. It’s a good color on you. But you know what’s not?” 

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me whether or not I ask.” 

“A woman as beautiful as you wasting away in a corner far from the dance floor.” 

Lin scoffed with disgust. Bumi had always been a flirt but he knew better than to make his sweaty moves on her. 

“But speaking of wisdom, where was yours when you agreed to dance with me?” 

Lin thought back- she had been fooled by his crisp uniform and tame hair. She had become his brain-dead conquest of the week. 

“Fine, I thought you looked good too,” she mumbled, looking away to hide the blush on her face. 

“Do my ears deceive me?” He gasped more dramatically than necessary before spinning her under his arm. 

“Shut up,” she grumbled. “You know you look good.” 

He pulled her close. “I know I know I look good. But I didn’t know you knew I look good. Or that you thought of me as someone who looked good.” 

“Oh come on now. Don’t make me—“ 

Her body slammed against his as he swayed her from side to side only using his middle finger on her lower back. 

“The only thing I’m making you do is dance.” 

Lin rolled her eyes again. “As if there’s anything I can make you do.” 

“Of course you can!” 

“Please.” 

“Try me,” he acquiesced. 

“Get Tenzin, Suyin, and Mako to stop staring at us,” she demanded. 

“I could do Suyin but I don’t think Tenzin and Mako are quite capable of looking away from you,” he said with a laugh. 

“Don’t start with me—“ 

“Okay, fine. But you have to trust me.” 

“Okay?” She said apprehensively. 

“Once I do this move, neither one of them is ever going to be able to look at you. Is that fine with you?” 

“Fine by me,” she said. “Especially if this is a permanent fix.” 

“Good,” he said with a grin. 

Lin noticed a course bead of sweat fall from Bumi’s forehead down on her hand which rested on his shoulder. He wasn’t winded- even though they’d been dancing for quite some time- he was moving like the air. So why was he sweating? 

Nerves, Lin realized.

And then just to put her hypothesis to test, she clumsily lowered her hand such that her palm splayed across his chest. The nervous heartbeat confirmed her suspicions. 

“Are you going to dip me?” She asked flirtatiously. 

Bumi was lost in focus. “Something like that.” 

He moved her hand back up to his shoulder where it belonged and with a firm grip on her back, he lowered her, head-first to the floor. His body followed behind hers and his other arm ensconced her body as he pulled her back up. 

Lin had to curtail those rabid butterflies in her belly. Those hyper-feminine jitters had to go. 

She realized she was only feeling this way because her eyes were locked with Bumi’s. The deep gray sea danced in his eyes, leaving a storm in Lin’s belly. It was eerie how gently his hand cupped her cheek, juxtaposed to that typhoon of endorphins. 

Before she knew it, her face was moving at a glacial pace, closer and closer to his. Until his lips closed the distance. 

Once she felt his mouth fully, the taste of that rich liquor he had sneaked in coupled with the rush of kissing a man as wild as Bumi left her breathless. It didn’t matter if they were the only two people there or if everyone paused to stare at them.  

Somehow he had her so immersed in him, Lin was well beyond that moment. 

When they parted, she found that his hands had reached her back again. Their feet remained grounded in place as their bodies moved apart. 

It was Lin who smiled first, forcing Bumi to relax. He did say he was terrified of her. 

“So—“

“I—“ 

They both spoke at that same time, inciting a laugh out of each other. 

“You first,” she said. 

Bumi shook his head. “Not until after you.” 

Lin pursed her lips but before she could assimilate her thoughts, Bumi blurted out, “I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited for that.” 

Lin snorted. “Was that your big idea? If they saw us kissing they’d never be able to look me in the eye?” 

Bumi’s hands moved to his sides. Now they were the only two people standing in the center of the dance floor while the others twirled.

“Well, yeah.” 

“It was a stupid idea,” she said with a smile. 

“You have no idea,” he retorted. 

Looking around, he proffered his arm out. Lin gladly ran her arm around his as he escorted them off the dance floor. 

“It looks like the three of them have scattered,” he commented after noticing Mako with Bolin, Suyin out of sight, and Tenzin frantically running after Rohan. 

“So your plan worked,” she said. 

“Yeah. What now?” He asked distractedly. 

“What now indeed.” 

“Maybe we could kiss a little more?” He suggested. 

Lin wanted to join her brows together so badly but she wound up biting her bottom lip instead. So she relented. Flirting back with Bumi wasn't as terrible as she had imagined. Especially if he lived up to the title of the best kisser in the United Forces.

“I could get behind that.” 

“Or maybe I could take you out to dinner? That skewer you were holding didn’t look very good. Maybe some real food?” 

“I could eat.” 

The two of them began walking towards the exit, hand in hand. 

“Maybe after food, we could go back to your place and kiss some more?” He asked. 

“Mmm, you’re full of good ideas today.” 

“And then maybe we could repeat these sequences of events every day until the end of our days.” 

Now Lin laughed. But she was smiling when she said, “That’s a very stupid idea.” 

Five word prompts from here

[exo-raskreia]

you'll probably won't see this message but i'll send it anyway lol.. i love you speak your mind about how the ichihime ship isn't that great and has all the facts to bring it show that you're right. i always felt scared to say i don't ship ichihime cuz they're are alot of shippers that can get so intense about it. i always say that ichihime is a cute ship and they have their moments(i don't feel that way at all lol) cuz i don't want to be attacked for not liking how their story played out. twitter is a scary place oml💀 and they made me sorta believe that ichiruki doesn't have any chemistry and they're just siblings when i knew in my heart like yes they do have chemistry and are the superior ship. like ichigo cares more for chad and uryuu then orihime. but since their canon, i guess their love for each other is supposed to be legit. apparently ichigo sees his mother in orihime so i don't understand why that's not a turn-off for the shippers😭so yeah thanks for making me go back in my bleach fangirl era and making my 10-year old self to not feel guilty and stupid shipping ichiruki

Wow, thanks so much, anon! And ur welcome! I will forever be on IchiRuki's side no matter what anyone says 😤.

You don't have to be scared to support what was, and still is, the most popular ship in Bleach (and rightfully so). There was no real ship war during its run (despite what the antis try to claim now), as IR was shipped by most of the fanbase. IR had everything you could hope a M/F ship to have in a battle shounen, the most solid basis for becoming canon with just one more step...and yet... (Kubo fumbled 🙄). The theories on that are interesting...

While more than half the IR fandom is no longer active after that disastrous ending, it doesn't mean they're not still out there. I've seen even non-shippers still praise IR & see it as wasted potential & whatnot (triggering antis in the process 🤭). Not being canon doesn't take away from the fact that it is still the superior ship. Anyone with reading comprehension who reads the manga will see it & wonder why they didn't end up together.

IH was never popular in Japan. It was always far below IchiRuki & UlquiHime (Ori's most popular ship 👀. Kubo achieved in ONE arc what he couldn't achieve for IH the entire manga, like-). To this day, those 2 ships get more content than the canon ships 😌.

The antis are just triggered that despite becoming canon, their ship is still. not. popular. IH doesn't have nearly as much content (both canon AND fanon) as IR & UH despite being canon for almost 10 years. Yes, Kubo himself doesn't care enough to give them even one family sketch 🫢.

Compare that to the Naruto endgame ships (mainly NaruHina & SasuSaku), which have way more official AND fan content. Those were always popular, & still are, 10 years later since becoming canon. Pro-Bleach ED fans love to compare their ships with Naruto's yet are nowhere near as popular.

The IH's really thought they would get the NaruHina royal treatment after the ending (you know, like a movie, official drawings from the creator, interviews saying they were meant to be, merch, etc.), but instead only got a novel that wasn't even focused on them (Ren/Ruki is more popular than IH but mainly because of Rukia 🤣), which vaguely went over their so-called "development" & had chicken scratches a rough draft of a sketch for their ship 🫢. Kubo also said in an interview that IH tried dating in college once but then broke up, later getting back together at some point. Super vague. And mind you, all this happened AFTER Rukia's wedding 🫢👀. So, we can only guess what was going through Ichigo's mind- Doesn't sound like Ichigo was all that interested, huh? Yet the IH's claim he was madly in love with her & "came back to life for her" & whatnot. Almost 10 years later & Kubo still can't be clear on when Ichigo supposedly started to "fall" for Ori despite being his "intended" endgame 💀.

The WDKALY novel has such OOC content on there, like it can't be taken seriously. Apparently, Kubo barely had any involvement with it anyway? Those sketches he drew sure are telling, esp if he calls his drawings here as a "rough draft" 💀

"Chicken scratches" for the canon ships, fr 😭.

RR is another dumpster fire but also more meh for me so I don't have to delve into that one, however, here's a post I once made where I go over why I don't truly believe Renji had feelings for Rukia. Meanwhile, Rukia's sad expression on the novel cover & the sketch of heading to the altar with a scared expression (not even when she was headed to her own execution did she look like THAT) say it all anyway 🫢.

Oh, man, there's just so much to make fun of for the canon ships. Even when we lose, we still win. IH's have no content, so maybe that's why they're so bitter & IR & its shippers still live in their minds rent-free despite them calling it a "dead ship". You would think they'd happily enjoy their canon ship & yet... They get triggered whenever IR fanart garners thousands of likes on Twitter 😩...

So, anon, I suggest not to engage with antis, esp on platforms like Twitter & Reddit. They're cesspools full of dudebros & loud IH's. Ignore, block, &/or mute them. No need to try arguing with them & please do NOT cater to them. Do NOT give them the validation they don't even get from Kubo himself, nor his affiliates (LMFAO). Use that energy to look for other fellow IR's & enjoy IR content (and maybe anti-IH content in the right places; you can explore that tag on my blog if u wish 🤪).

As an old saying in this fandom went, "Keep Calm & Ship IchiRuki."

[alannybunnue]

Yandere Tom riddle (younger) 😶

It was bound to happen

What if Tom Riddle wasn't a psychopath and had obsessive feelings towards a classmate?

Disastrous

Imagine as if you were someone who was a the top, just like him, you had wonderful grades, the teachers adored you and the students looked up to you. You were pretty strong and clever for someone at your age.

Basically, you were perfect and he saw that as a challenge, because he is a bitch.

Now, you didn't even cared about it until he brought this to another level, basically bullying you, but not publicly, he couldn't taint his reputation, so he used his lackeys.

But you knew that it was him.

So you did the only thing you could, ignored these attempts. Not letting it get to your head.

Oh boy, that only indulged him.

However, as the time goes...his intentions began to change...and he didn't notice until he did.

He had to make a whole mental equation to realize that he was in love with you. Maybe too much in love.

And as a yandere, Tom is calculist at first, not showing the signs and also taking the right steps to get you, beginning by making up for all this time of him tormeting you...

Then he tries to get into your head, and depending on your personality and how you handled his apologies, it can be too easy or too hard.

If it's too easy, then you're fucked, cuz Tom will keep you trapped, you are like a prize to him. A beautiful pet, easily doing anything he commands without realizing that he is controlling you.

If it's too hard, then you gave him the challenge, now wait for hell when he wins.

And focus on the detail that i wrote "when" and not "if". Cuz there's no "If", Tom is determined to win sooner or later.

Once he gets to you, or you please him as he wishes or you get punished, and you don't want to be punished.

He will literally destroy you mentally, unlike his victims, he doesn't want you to beg to be killed, but for him to forgive. He wants to see you at your worse, broken so he can rebuild you in shape he desires.

You're his toy to play now...or until a fucking baby defeats him with the power of his mama's love 😌

〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓

A/N: I am just gonna say this, i have no clue who would want to be with this child of a man, but anyway, hope you enjoyed :3

[tccconfessionsfagg]

Introduction 🎮

1. 👍 The Industrial 🏭 Revolution 😍🍆 and its consequences 🙀 have 🈶 been 😎🏼 a disaster 😱❌ for 🈺 the human 👤 race. 🏃‍♀️ They 🏽✨ have 👏 greatly 👎 increased ⬆️ the life-expectancy 🧬 of those 😘 of us 👯‍♀️ who 🔭❓ live 💣👦 in ☹️ "advanced" 🙊 countries, 🇺🇸 but 🤔 they 😱 have 👏 destabilized 🙄 society, 🤡 have 🈶 made 👑 life 🧬 unfulfilling, 😭 have 🈶 subjected 😠 human 👤 beings 💦 to indignities, 😳 have 🈶 led 👉👌💦 to widespread 😷 psychological 🧠 suffering 😭 (in 🍆 the Third 3️⃣ World 🌎 to physical 👊 suffering 😭 as well) 🤷🏾‍♂️ and have 🙋 inflicted 😬 severe 📉 damage 🔥💣 on 🔛 the natural 🌿🌱 world. 🌎 The continued 🙉 development 👩💻 of technology 💻 will 😜⚽ worsen 🆘😭 the situation. 💹 It will 🖤 certainly 😒 subject 🔥💥 human 🚶‍♀️🚶‍♂️ beings 💦 to greater 👅 indignities 😳 and inflict 😵 greater 💯❌ damage 🔥💣 on 💫 the natural ⛰️🏞️🏕️ world, 🌎 it will 😜⚽ probably 😻 lead 👉 to greater 👅 social 👭 disruption 😡 and psychological 🧠 suffering, 😭 and it may 😈 lead 👉👌💦 to increased 🧂😭 physical 👊 suffering 😭 even 🌃 in 🚪 "advanced" 🙊 countries. 🌐

2. 🕝 The industrial-technological system 📠 may 😎 survive 👼🎅🏽 or it may 🎡 break 💔 down. 😱 If it survives, 😭 it MAY 🌌 eventually 💀 achieve 💯 a low 🔅 level 🎚 of physical 👊 and psychological 🤕 suffering, 😭 but 😥 only ✋ after 😌 passing 💯 through 🪀 a long 💇‍♀️💇‍♀️💇 and very 😽 painful 🔪 period 🩸 of adjustment 💰 and only 😦 at the cost 💰 of permanently 📒 reducing ⏬😜 human 🧠 beings 💦 and many 👬 other 😖 living 🤸 organisms to engineered products 🏭🔨🔧 and mere ⚙️ cogs in 🍭 the social 👥 machine. 😫😒 Furthermore, if the system 📷 survives, 🙏🏼😩😭 the consequences 🙊🙀 will 👅😱 be 😒 inevitable: 😱 There 🔽 is no 🤪 way 😸 of reforming or modifying 🚼 the system 🏭 so as to prevent 🚫 it from 🍭 depriving people 👨 of dignity 🙍 and autonomy.

3. 😘🤔 If the system 📷 breaks 💔 down 🔻 the consequences 😡💪🤛 will 👊 still 🤞🙌 be 🌼 very 😏 painful. 😭 But 🍑 the bigger 🥴 the system 📷 grows 💗 the more 💯😩 disastrous 😱 the results 🔢🔢 of its breakdown 🚨🙀 will 📌🤤 be, 🍆 so if it is to break 💔 down 🏽 it had 🈶👋✊💔 best 🌳 break 💔 down 📩 sooner 🕛 rather 🐀 than 😻 later. 🕘

4. ⛳ We 👧 therefore 🎉 advocate 🚫 a revolution ✊ against ➡️ the industrial 🏭 system. 📷 This revolution ✊ may 😈🐝 or may 🐵 not 👎 make 💘 use 🙏🏻 of violence; 💣 it may 🐵 be ⬇️ sudden 😱 or it may 😎 be 😳 a relatively 👨👧👧 gradual 📝 process 💻 spanning 🙏 a few 😋🔢 decades. We 👩‍👩‍👦‍👦👩‍👩‍👦‍👦👩‍👩‍👦‍👦 can't 🚫 predict 🤔 any ��� of that. 💂🏽‍♀️ But 🍑 we 👥 do ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ outline 📄 in a very 😩 general 💂 way 💫 the measures 😏 that 😝🍑 those 👉👉 who ❓👏 hate 😲😠 the industrial 🏭 system 📷 should 💘👫 take 👊 in 🚪🏼 order 📑 to prepare 🙍🏾 the way 🍷 for 🙎🏼🔄 a revolution 😍🍆 against 😈 that 🤼‍♂️🏇🏻 form 📋 of society. 👥 This is not 😅 to be 😉 a POLITICAL 🇺🇸 revolution. 😳 Its object 👆🤙 will 🤩🤩 be 📷 to overthrow ✊ not 😥 governments 💩 but 🍑 the economic 💵 and technological 💡 basis 📅 of the present 🎁 society. 🤡

5. 5⃣ In 👊 this article 📄 we 👩‍👩‍👦‍👦 give 😱 attention 🚨 to only 👨‍👩‍👦‍👦 some 💁 of the negative 👎 developments 🚀 that 😐 have 👃🈶 grown 👴 out 🤬 of the industrial-technological system. 😏💋 Other 😖 such 📶 developments 👩💻 we 💏 mention only 😔 briefly 😎 or ignore 💩 altogether. This does ❓❓ not ❌ mean 💰 that 😐 we 👩‍👩‍👦‍👦 regard 😤 these 🍆 other 👪 developments 👩💻 as unimportant. For 💕😩 practical 😚 reasons 📃 we 👧👦 have 🈶 to confine our 💩 discussion 🤔 to areas that 😐 have 🈶 received 💌 insufficient public 🙈 attention 🚨 or in 🚭👇 which 😡 we 👶🤔 have ✊💪 something 💩 new 🆕 to say. 💭 For 🍆 example, 🔥 since 💦 there 😱😳 are well-developed environmental 🌍 and wilderness 🐻 movements, 👣 we 🌿 have 🈶 written very 😏 little 🕴🏻 about 💦 environmental 🌍 degradation 😭👌 or the destruction 💥 of wild 🐻 nature, 🐌 even 🌃 though 💥💭 we 👨 consider 🤔 these ⚡🌈 to be 🎮🙋 highly 🕛 important. 🔝

Confession 1000

[duusheen]

I had to do this, so glad she's back! ❤️

😂😂😂 episode 4 of the disastrous life of Hope Pollock lmao hopefully (lol) this is her happily ever after 😌

[yuanology]

Hiii! I'm back again with another request🖐️

I live for angst so how bout enemies to lovers trope with gojo but then gojo realizes his feelings a little too late

(sfw for now cuz I'm up for crying rn rather than being horny😜😌)

wh .

in truth, satoru never expected that he would ever have a nemesis.

it was just that—he simply stood far too high on the scale against everyone else that no one could begin to compare. after all, who dared to defy the great gojo satoru, wielder of six eyes? only a fool or a madman.

you had to be one; one or the other. maybe both.

it didn't matter.

because either way, you were there. a perpetual haunting presence in the back of his mind, a shadow that would not leave him. you were there, every fucking step of the way, and he couldn't stand the sight of you.

(that was a lie. he enjoyed having you by his side, a rival rather than a friend. your presence kept his life interesting, reminding him of the fact that he was not infallible and he was not god. he was still a boy and he was still human.)

and maybe it was because you had grown so constant, so fucking present in every moment of his life from his childhood to his adolescence to his adulthood, that he had didn't even realise that you were something that could be taken away from him until you left.

you left.

you weren't even taken away from him, robbed clean from his hands, leaving behind a bloodied imprint in the place where you once stood. no. no, of course not. people like you could never be taken away by anyone but their own hands. the day you went out of this world would be on the day you woke up and decided you would finally die for your cause.

you were simply that incredible, that stubborn, that headstrong. you always had been.

and satoru —— you for it.

(he couldn't bear to think of those words out loud. they were too disastrous, too ruinous, too real. too much of something, too little of the other. there was none of that balance; that in between that he loved to thread so much.)

(but that was the thing about you, wasn't it? you had this habit of making him do things that he hated just because you wanted him to struggle. and that was the thing about him, wasn't it? he had this tendency to follow through with your words just because he wanted to see you smile.)

because that meant that your leaving was your choice. because that meant that this was all orchestrated by you and that he was nothing but a puppet in your grand scheme. because that meant that even if he found out in time, satoru would have been powerless to stop you. because that meant that even though satoru —— you, you had never once —— him in return.

and all of this was a game, a ploy.

because you left.

you, his equal, his nemesis, his rival, his right hand, left him.

in truth, satoru never expected that he would ever have his heart broken either.