#divorced verse?

[radi0activelob1ani]

Some Dr. Liv doodles because why not ✨️

shes the type of a person thats like "good vibes only ❤️ ☮️ ✌️ 🌈 ✨ " until you piss her off and then she starts sending death threats (and actually tries to kill you)

[penaltyboxboxbox]

taking things slow

[iwasbored777]

No but they were so sad when they couldn't hang out anymore they are so dramatic I love them

[verstappentime]

anyway here’s more maxiel divorce verse for anyone who’s a bit sad about today’s race. <3 (part 1 here, part 2 here)

“Stay,” Max says, rushed, before Charles can get anything else out.

“Okay,” Daniel says. He tries to clear the lump in his throat. He’s been waiting for Max to say that word, but this is as close as he’ll get, probably. “Tilt your head forward for me.” Max does; Daniel gingerly presses the ice where his head meets his neck.

Max hisses, reaching up to grab Daniel’s forearm. It’s been so long since Max initiated touch with him; Daniel forces himself not to jolt.

“I know, baby, I’m sorry.”

Max groans, gradually loosening his grip. “Can we do the bathtub thing?”

“The– Oh, yeah, sure. Charles, do you have a bath?”

“I feel like you are being the doctor and I am the nurse,” Charles says. He’s hovering closer than a second ago. “Yes, I do, is it for something weird?”

“It’s not for anything weird. Can you fill it up with hot water? As hot as it can get without burning.”

“Fine. But it’s for him.” It’s too dark for Daniel to see the look Charles is giving him. Just as well.

Daniel stays there, crouched beside Max, keeping the ice pressed to his neck. Max’s breaths are shallow, like he’s trying really hard not to wince, but he’s mostly failing. “The medicine is gonna help,” he says, just for something to say. In the dark, eyes closed, Max reaches around for his hand. Daniel links their fingers, squeezing hard. Max’s hand is clammy and he can’t get a good grip on Daniel, all weak and floppy. “Tell me what feels bad?”

Max turns his face into a couch cushion, making a tiny whining sound. “It’s– what do you say? The whole nine yards? I scared Charles with the throwing up.” He’s talking more, which is a good sign.

“It’s fine,” Daniel says. “He called me and I’m here now, so it’s fine.” He presses his thumb against where Max’s jaw meets his cheek. He’s so tense everywhere.

Charles comes back into the room. “The water’s in the bath. I’m saying again to not do anything weird.”

“We are going to do something so weird,” says Max. He groans as he swivels his legs around to stand up, pressing on his forehead. “Ah, fuck. Shit.” He grabs Daniel’s wrist, squeezing hard.

“Take it easy,” Daniel says, clearing his throat where it’s all thick. He hates this, he hates that Max hurts, that he’s still hurting, and he— he loves, sort of, that it’s him Max is reaching out for. It’s fucking twisted.

Max doesn’t ask to be helped, so Daniel doesn’t offer, just hovers as Max slowly pushes himself to stand up. But Max is unwieldy, swaying a little, and— and he grabs for Daniel again. Maybe it’s just because Daniel’s seen it all before, because he’s fed him and bathed him and sat with him in the middle of the night, but. He’s still being chosen. “Sorry,” Max says, like Daniel would ever want him to do anything else. “My eyes are not so good.”

“It’s fine. I have you.” I always will, I always fucking will.

Charles waves them through to his master bathroom. In the light, Daniel can see that Max’s left pupil is blown. He’s sweaty and he looks like shit, hair all messed up, but he’s Max, and he’s gorgeous. Daniel wants to hold him.

“Max, yell for me if he is doing anything weird to you,” Charles says, and ducks out of the room. Conceding.

“You could have told him we’re not getting naked.”

“I mean, I am taking my pants off,” Max says. “Can I hold on to you?”

Daniel nods slowly, feeling oddly like he should look away. He watches the ceiling as Max holds onto him for balance.

If Max notices him acting weird, he doesn’t say so. “You’ll get your pants wet,” he says instead.

Oh. Daniel glances to the door, where Charles is not. This isn’t what he expected when he woke up today, he thinks, as he’s stepping out of his jeans.

They sit on the edge of the tub, Daniel pressing the ice pack to Max’s neck. It’s an easy trick; get the circulation down into his lower body and away from his head.

“Charles could do this,” Daniel says, after a moment.

“I know,” Max says. He leans his head on Daniel’s shoulder, closing his eyes. He doesn’t say it, but Daniel knows it: I wanted you. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

“No.” Maybe he should have lied, or not answered so quickly.

“Good.” Max traces a circle on Daniel’s thigh, over the ship tattoo. “Charles thought I would be angry that you were coming. But I wasn’t.”

“No?”

“No. I was—relieved. I do not like being like that. And Charles is not good in emergencies.”

“You can always call me,” Daniel says. He pictures being at dinner with some girl, or a guy, and bolting because Max isn’t alright. He knows he would.

“I know,” Max says.

[backup1318]

{And whoever relies upon Allah - then He is sufficient for him.} Quran(65,3)       الطلاق - الآية 3

التفسير الميسر

ومن يتوكل على الله فهو كافيه ما أهمَّه في جميع أموره

[valtsv]

“If you want an apology—” “Quite the opposite, actually.” Shrue blinks at her in genuine bemusement. “... I don't follow.” “I thought perhaps we could fight about it.” Val says it as casually as if she's suggesting they take an impromptu late-night stroll. Or: In another reality, Shrue lives, and makes it to the camp of the Children of the Woundtree, where they try with the other survivors to rebuild their lives. Val is there too. They come to blows about it. Or: (Sort of) Repairing your broken relationship with a little percussive maintenance.

finally wrote a fic about these wretched creatures i'm so fond of. you can read it if you want.

[weregonnabecoolbeans]

Because of all the amazing Agatha that Billy found..

I am chosing to believe that Every. Single. Kathryn Hahn character is Agatha

And no I don’t mean Agatha varients

I mean Agatha just fucking around pretending to be different people all in one life. In one universe.

[livwritesstuff]

when I was little, my dad used to spin around in his desk chair and hold my hand so that I would run around in circles as a way of tiring me out, and to me that is such an Eddie thing to do. Steve probably hates it because he’s worried he’ll trip the child and hurt them

lol yeah Eddie is the absolute king of those weird dad hacks – 

He isn’t necessarily sure he was meant to be a stay-at-home dad — not that he isn’t thrilled about it, especially considering the alternative for him really is some kind of nine-to-five office-type job which he definitely wasn’t made for.

It’s kind of just how things worked out for him and Steve, because when their first daughter was born in 2001, Steve’s counseling job was strictly in-office and Eddie was already at home all the time (writing novels or whatever), so it was the natural order of things.

Don’t get him wrong – he loves it, especially when their daughters are a bit older – but his days aren’t necessarily all that productive, so when he’s got deadlines to meet, he has to get a bit creative.

Creative usually means that Steve comes home at 6pm to some kind of questionable bedlam.

His favorite was when Moe was four and Robbie nearly two and he came home to find them running circles around the kitchen island where Eddie sat typing on his computer.

Eddie: I told them to stop when they ran twenty laps.

Steve: *knows that Robbie can’t count yet, and while Moe can, she also tends to jump back to 2 as soon as she hits 11 and ends up in an infinite loop*

Steve: Sweet.

Steve: How long have they been doing this, then?

Eddie: About thirty minutes.

Steve knows that their kids aren’t made of glass. Most of Eddie’s solutions for tiring out their kids don’t bother him too much (other than raising some eyebrows over how the hell he comes up with this shit). Occasionally though, his judgment is even more baffling than usual.

Like, taping cardboard to the stairs to make a slide…fine, sure, whatever.

Taping cardboard to the stairs and sliding down on their mattresses…less fine.

Tying one end of a rope to the swing in their backyard and the other to his ankle so Hazel stays asleep while Eddie gets some writing done…Steve can understand that, given how they’re in a phase where Hazel will only doze off while she’s in that thing.

Hooking up a power drill (granted, it’s on the lowest setting) to the baby rocker so it’ll bounce on its own through naptime…absolutely not.

[desidesidesi]

Has anyone done this yet?

[cherrywhite]

Happy pride month to these four btw

[cyber-skeletons]

Omg Sam in Earthspark meeting the terrans and Twitch is just so damn confused, terrified and also amazed at Sam’s abilities. She only gets scared when she sees Sam’s full wraith on display because someone hurt one of his parents and she witness him almost tearing a ghost goon to shreds until Bee stops him ( I still need to watch earthspark but it looks awesome lol) also the terrans just being confused by Sam being Optimus and Megatron’s kid lmao

EarthSpark is hands down our favorite Transformers continuity ever it comes fully recommended and ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh you are coming for our HEART with this. Sam considering the Terrans his cousins because they're Aunt Dorothy's kids and he loves them to bits but seeing Twitch scared of him after losing control probably really rattles him

And the Terrans looking at Sam and squealing and going "So you're a Terran too?!" and Sam is just like "...am I a Terran???? Carrier? Sire?" and Optimus is like "Well, no, as you were created from me and Megatron, rather than from Earth and the Emberstone" and the Terrans immediately latch onto that and Thrash goes "Wait wait wait, you and Megatron can just BUILD new Cybertronians?! Why haven't you been doing that more?!" and Nightshade is like "Oh! Please explain in exact detail how you created Sam!" and Optimus and Megatron are both just like

And ooooooh what if Sam has his human form because Dot touched his protoform when Megatron showed him to her? What if he and Optimus actually arranged for Dot to raise Sam as her own and hide his Cybertronian side so that GHOST and Agent Croft wouldn't get their hands on their sparkling, just like Optimus sent Bee into hiding to keep him safe? So that would mean Sam has Three Dads, a Mom, and Seven Siblings

[pronouncingitwang]

catching up in time for the finale thank you podcasts

[agodmustfeed]

you love your god, but youre not sure you like him anymore. you go on a pilgrimage anyways, with a fanatical young boy, and meet some weird divorced cop you have to run from because your partner turns a guy into a crab. you (mostly accidentally) take a hostage, and shes pretty okay actually. you part on good terms, something thats absolutely not normal between kidnappers and kidnappees, but hey, whatever man. you find what youre looking for, and youre not sure you love your god anymore. the fanatical kid you thought you bonded with completely fucks off, hating you for your disbelief. the weird divorced cop finally catches you, but your hostage/friend(????) jailbreaks you (NOT NORMAL) and hes left handcuffed to the door of the precinct, ranting and raving about how hes going to hunt you down to the ends of the earth. you try to stop your fanatical partner from doing mass murder, but you dont have to. he prays to and you curse your god, and he answers (to who?). a weird old lady finds you but not him, so your fanatical friend is probably dead. youre mean but shes nice, and you think you could love the goddess she worships. you try to help out and two feral children catch you, turns out the fanatical kid is alive and has power in the church now. theyre not your people anymore, but you work to save them from the government backed feral children. the kid calls you sister. and then he frames you for the double murder he does. he cries as he does it, but he does it anyways. he sends his dogs after you and there is no rest, no reprieve. your new goddess keeps you alive, but you are caught anyways, and your old god kills to save you. you hate him for it, hate him for loving you, for wanting you back. you are caught again and youre done this time. you just want it to be over.

and then the fucking divorced cop who, last time you saw him, was screaming about you finding a prey god to pray to because he will never let you feel safe again, is jogging up and, in a jovial tone, calling you an old friend and asking his friends to patch you up. like what the fuck would you do

[verstappentime]

here's a bit of random divorce verse scene for everyone during this hard week. max is taking care of dan, don't worry ❤️ we find our boys at the suzuka. max is there with charles and daniel didn't know he was coming.

⇢ ⇢ “Daniel.” Max’s voice behind him should be startling, but maybe he’s been expecting him to show up all night. “It’s late.”

Daniel kicks his feet in the pool water, watching the fluorescent blue ripples. He doesn’t look up. “What are you doing here?” he asks, no bite to it.

“Of course I am looking for you.” Max winces as he lowers himself to sit beside Daniel. “If I zoom in really far I can see your dot is near the pool.”

“Can’t sleep,” Daniel says. “Why were you looking for me?”

Max doesn’t answer. “Charles can never sleep here either. I’ve always slept in his room.”

“It’s weird,” Daniel says, swallowing. He looks at the sky instead of at Max. It’s still surreal that he’s here.

“Ghosts,” Max says. He moves closer, deliberately, so their thighs touch. “He’s worse this year. It’s why I came. I think probably it’s my fault.”

“Makes sense.” He can’t think about Max being compared to Jules or he’ll go fucking insane.

Max wraps his hand around Daniel’s wrist, like he knows Daniel needs to know he’s alive. “Let me take you to your room,” Max says, all soft. Daniel lets himself look; he’s in his sleep shorts and a ratty t-shirt, black with a huge bleach stain. He looks soft, too. “I will help you sleep.”

“Okay,” Daniel says, because he’s tired and heavy and Max is here. He lets Max tug him to his feet. He’s getting stronger.

He half-expects Max to lead him to the elevator, but he lets go. No, he wants to say. Be connected to me again, please.

God. Max had shown up here, halfway across the world, and he hadn’t even warned him.

They don’t talk in the elevator, Daniel leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. He can feel Max watching him up close, the way he stops and starts. He must be doing something on his phone.

The elevator dings. “Uh, it’s this way,” Daniel tells him. He feels itchy. He hadn’t even let himself think about— this.

Another time, he would’ve been stealing Max off Charles for something else. Something good.

Max shuts the door behind him. “Your room is smaller than ours,” he says.

He doesn’t like that word. Max shouldn’t share things with people that aren’t him. “It’s nice,” he says, sitting on the end of the bed.

“I will take care of you now, okay?” Max says, quiet. Daniel just blinks at him.

He wants to laugh. You’ve fucking cored me like an apple, Max, I can’t love anyone else and I’m fucked, and I messed this up, and I won’t be better until you come home. But he just says, “okay,” because that’s what Max prompted. Because he wants to let him try.

“Okay,” Max says again, and he fucking— kneels down and starts untying Daniel’s shoe.

His movements are so much easier than a couple months ago. It’s taking him concentration — it’s a dextrous task — but he pulls the knot free. “You can’t wear these to bed,” he says, like that makes it make sense.

“You don’t have to,” Daniel blurts.

“I know,” Max says. He kisses the inside of Daniel’s knee, unties his other shoe, pulls it off. Sets them gently to the side.

Something about it is making Daniel desperately homesick. He’s not sure for where. He can’t help stroking Max’s hair, thumbing behind his ear. His throat is too thick for talking.

Max soothes a hand under his shorts, over the top of his thigh. “Do you want these off?” he asks.

God. Daniel can’t believe he’s sad enough to not be getting hard at this. “It’s okay,” he says, because that might not last forever. “Come up here.” He offers Max a hand, which he takes, letting Daniel hoist him up.

“Let me,” Max says, tugging at the hem of Daniel’s shirt.

“Okay,” he says, again, and lets Max pull it up over his head. He reaches out, grabbing Max’s wrist. He doesn’t mean to. He just— he feels unmoored and he needs to be anchored back to him.

He knows Max is here for Charles. He said. But his heart just keeps asking whywhywhywhy. You flew halfway around the world. You knew I would be here. You knew.

Max looks down at Daniel’s hand and he must get it a little bit because he says, “I’m right here, Daniel.” But he’s been gone and Daniel isn’t alright, and he didn’t know if Max would touch him like that again. “Do you– do you want me to get you a different shirt?”

“I— Yeah.” Daniel clears his throat. “I can get one.”

“No,” Max says, stubborn. “I want to. You’re tired.” He rifles through Daniel’s bag, probably messing everything up. He comes back with the most generic, plain red T-shirt money can buy. It’s his own, and there’s no way he doesn’t know it. Daniel doesn’t buy things in packs of three.

Max hands the shirt over. Daniel thanks him again as he pulls it over his head. He wishes Max would dress him. He’s never wanted anything like that before.

“Can I stay here?” It’s so weird, Max asking him for stuff like this. Back before everything, back when he was young and nervous and telling himself he wasn’t, he would always insist, push himself into Daniel’s space, root himself to a place there.

“I thought you needed to be with Charles.”

“He’s okay. He was sleeping when I left.” Max takes his phone out of his pocket, ticks the volume on. “I texted him to call if he needs me.”

Daniel imagines him waiting for Charles to sleep so he could slip away and find him. Max, Max, Max, why are you here.

“Okay. Yeah. Stay then.”

Max smiles. He looks shy. I fucking love you, Daniel thinks. “Let’s lay down, okay? And I will help you sleep.”

“Hold on.” Daniel carefully tugs the duvet off the bed, leaving just a thin blanket, because Max runs hot and is like a fucking furnace at night. He had to start asking hotels for extra blankets since Silverstone.

Daniel lays down; Max gets the lights and slips in beside him, half-sitting up against the pillows. “I want to hold you,” Max says. So Daniel rests his head against Max’s chest, next to where his heart is thumping. It’s an uncomfortable way to sleep, for Max, but he offered. Maybe he’ll wait for Daniel to fall asleep and leave, like he did with Charles.

Max wraps his arms around Daniel’s chest, squeezing, pressing his nose into Daniel’s hair. I miss you, he’d said, a month ago now. He’d said it hurt.

“You did this for me,” Max says. “When we got home from the hospital. You took off my shoes and you dressed me and put me in bed. You said to wake you up if it hurt and you slept with me, and held me, and–” He swallows, and Daniel feels it ripple. “It was so nice, Daniel. It was so nice. At the hospital I felt so awful and I didn’t like everyone helping but it was okay because it was you.”

“Baby–”

Max keeps talking. “You did it a lot of times and you brought me my medicine and helped me sit up to brush my teeth and helped me shower. I was sad and everything hurt and sometimes I was angry and I never said thank you and I never did it for you, Daniel. I never took care of you.”

“I didn’t need–” He doesn’t know what he was going to say. You to thank me or to be taken care of.

“You looked so sad today,” Max says, forging on, stubborn. “You are skinny and you look tired. And I am trying to remember if you looked like that when I saw you last but my memory is shit. So I want– I want to take care of you now.”

[thepunkpanther]

fatefully i tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me misery like the war of words I shouted in my sleep and you passed right by i was in the alley, surrounded on all sides the knife cuts both ways if the shoe fits, walk in it 

[hitawall]

solitary confinement

Visions of the lonely road

Come to me through

The sharp edges of my tattered soul

All the lines are blurred and moved

It’s not got a thing to do

With my sobriety…

It’s you.

Sobs stretch out of my sore throat

Anguished screams in a voice unknown

Forward motion ever rolling on

Sand and sleep gather in my eyes

Still I strain to see the other side

Sensitivity and solitude cloud my mind

Putting painful pavements in the past

Realizing hearts are made of glass

But in your hands, mine turned to sand

Who could put me back together again?

There are eggshells littering all my floors.

Nobody’s coming in.