#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)

[iwasbored777]

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

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Fuck it, Babes! I'm Fixing This in Denial-verse!

You know what? Like the song title that started this fic says, "Say No More", Tim. You don't see the joy in BuckTommy? You don't see the love and happiness in Tevan? You aren't interested in the stable relationship that is Kinley? I got this. I'm okay with taking Happiest-We've-Ever-Seen-Him-Buck and Fantastic-Boyfriend-With-Baggage-Tommy off your hands, good sir!

It feels apt that I named this fic Denial-verse 😂 That the singers of the song are called Fickle Friends. We had a good canon run. There's a lot of wonderful stuff there. And okay, are there one or two minutes at the end that we have to change? Not hard to do. Take my hands, babes. We're going off the paved roads, onto the beaten path of fanon by the end of this.

I get it. I was reeling. It hurt. I was hurt. It wasn't fair or kind. It was honestly cruel in its execution. I didn't get sleep. I've never lost sleep over a show before. It was wild. But I listened to the song that inspired the first fic in this series originally recently and I just smiled because - fuck it.

I didn't know where this was going back then either.

I thought it might end at any moment.

I'm happy with what we have despite the bullshit that happened. It's more than most ships I love get. And I've never hated writing in the realm of fanon. Why would I hate it now?

I'm actually a little excited. I don't have to worry about whether shit I make up is going to contradict canon anymore.

Now, as my goal in Denial-verse always is, I will be sticking as close to canon as I can. But I won't be ending it like it ended on the show. This might get a little angsty, but I promise you a happy ending. I'm always good for a happy ending.

I don't know who wants this. Maybe I'll be the last clown sitting here reading the end of this epic I didn't intend to write. But fuck it, if I'm the last clown at the circus, I'll be happy.

So.

As the song goes, "Paradise, I'm your beholder!" Now, get "caught in this denial" with me and let me "show [you] the way"! 😆

Be ready for some Denial-verse soon! Possibly tomorrow or the day after!

[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.

[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.

[dibvader]

I’ve been thinking about Saiko and Akechi friendship today. I just think they’d be funny.

[joetavis]

Tony (deviously plotting): I'm gonna get him back! (for sending a stupid cell phone instead of just calling me himself, like an idiot)

Steve (daydreaming): I'm gonna get him back! (by sending him a cell phone, because it's really romantic without pressuring him too much)

Nat (to both): Go get him, tiger.

[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

[rewritingcanon]

I find it funny that people ship scorbus + drarry. like, wouldn't they be...brothers? and part of me feels that if harry divorced ginny, albus would've been in ginny's side and that would divide them (albus and harry) even more.

oh dont even GET ME STARTED on this topic bro

[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

[verstappentime]

here’s some sunday unfinished fic for y’all. max retired after his head injury at silverstone was a lot worse than irl. daniel’s his ex. charles calls when max has a migraine while they’re hanging out and he doesn’t know what to do, dan comes to the rescue. <3

Max looks up at him, exhausted, eyes glassy. There are tear tracks on his cheeks. Jesus fuck. “Hey, Maxy,” Daniel says, crouching down beside the couch. Charles hangs back, crossing his arms, looking at him disdainfully. Daniel can feel it even when he can’t see it.

“Daniel,” is all Max says, voice cracking around his name.

“Got your medicine, okay? It’s going to help.” Daniel can’t help brushing his fingers through the sweaty hair sticking to Max’s forehead. Maybe Max doesn’t want that. Maybe Max wants him to fuck off. He doesn’t pause to find out. “Sit up a bit more for me? Do you have something to drink?”

“On the table,” Charles says. Daniel squints, finding the glass in the dark. It smells like some sort of juice, maybe orange. Good, Charles listened about the sugar.

Max pushes himself up a little bit, enough that Daniel doesn’t think he’ll choke. It seems like even that’s painful, the way he pushes the heel of his palm against his eye. Max’s doctor always said it would be hard for anyone to understand how much this hurts him.

“Charles, can you get me an ice pack or something like that?” Daniel doesn’t bother turning to look at him. “Baby,” he says, softer, to Max, “Can you give me your hand?”

Max holds out his palm. It’s unsettling how little noise he’s making.

Daniel unscrews the top of one of the bottles and presses two pills into his hand. Max reaches for the glass, but when Daniel hands it over, he’s shaking and almost spills the whole thing. “Okay, nope, let’s have me do that,” he says, carefully prying it back.

“I can—”

“No you can’t,” Daniel says, because he’s not interested in Max’s pride. “Come on, I won’t drown you.”

It makes Daniel’s chest feel gooey and weird, cupping the back of Max’s head and helping him take a sip at a time. Max’s hand-eye coordination was awful in the first few days after his injury. They’ve been here before. Everything is just— different now.

He tries to keep talking, distracting Max from how intimate this is. “I got the beta blockers, the nausea stuff, painkillers, all that. Gang’s all here.” He hands another pill over. “I think these are the ones that taste bad, so take it slow.”

Max takes that one; Daniel tries to be careful with the juice. He gags, and Daniel can’t help steadying him by the shoulder.

“Swallow, you’re alright,” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb in little circles. Max manages to take a deep breath and keep it down. Daniel’s proud of him. He loves him. Max isn’t shoving him off. The next pill he gives Max is the last one. “There you are, that’s all, yeah? It should help soon.”

He smooths his thumb over Max’s brow. He swears he can feel the tension there release a little. Max is still letting him touch.

“Thank you,” Max says, so quiet Charles might not even hear it.

I’d do anything for you, Daniel wants to say. Even if I fall in love again, I’d still do anything for you. He keeps that thought to himself. “Can I stay?” he asks instead. “Just till you’re a little better.”

“This is my apartment, you know,” Charles pipes up.

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

[pronouncingitwang]

catching up in time for the finale thank you podcasts