#hi yes blogging is my therapy now

[bakedbakermom]

Hey teacher if you actually think taking a socially isolated six year old, sitting her down with the class, and then letting them talk about ALL THE THINGS THEY DON'T LIKE ABOUT HER is an acceptable way to treat a child then we do not have a different approach when it comes to child development, we have a different approach when it comes to being a human fucking being.

I Do Not Care what class rules she struggles with, that is abuse.

Hearing my daughter cry for the last few days as she recounts what she's feeling in that classroom... I can't explain what that feels like. When she was born, and I held her for the first time, I was Changed. I've tried to explain it so many times and the best I've got is. How the Grinch Stole Christmas. When his heart grew three sizes and it broke the little box? I felt that. I felt my heart growing inside me as a physical sensation so strong it was almost painful. It's beyond words.

The pain I feel for her now is beyond words in the same way. I am physically sick for her. She has been pouring her heart out to me. The phrases she uses:

I just curled up in a ball at my seat and was crying. Teacher may was well have written "Talk about Stupid (name)" on the whiteboard.

I'm worried I'll never be able to be happy at school again, and then maybe I'll never be able to be happy at all ever again.

Imagine if someone took a tiny baby, and they just put it in the trashcan. Teacher does that to me over and over.

Teacher only talks to me when I'm doing something wrong, I'm scared to go talk to her when I need something.

I'm a good kid! I know I am! Why can't Teacher see the angel in me?

I'm always crying at school and I hate it because they all think I'm a baby.

Teacher is always frowning at me. I hate my whole life right now, except my parents.

And she was singing the "I Wish I Wasn't Different" song from the Movies episode of Bluey. And she's got a fucking stress rash on her hand because she can't stop picking at herself.

SHE'S SIX FUCKING YEARS OLD.

I am astounded by the depth of her pain and I'm only feeling the echo of it in that piece of my heart she made.

This woman made my child feel that. To say I am incandescent with rage is barely scratching the surface.

I kept her out of school today (and gave her the best self-care a 6yo could ask for*) and feel massively guilty I haven't taken more action much sooner. She WILL NOT be made to feel this way one more goddamn minute. Tomorrow we talk to the principal and we will make them make this right.

* Last night she was telling me it felt like her heart used to be all pink and happy and now it's blue and has a frowny face and tears falling down, and then it broke in half and now this half is all the way down in my KNEE (I am raising a delightfully dramatic child).

So today, we had a Fix Daughter's Heart Day. I let her download a few cute but dumb apps on her tablet and she got to play them in her jammies during breakfast - that alone broke 3 boring routines that she finds tedious. We went to Build A Bear. Frankly, we went a little nuts at Build A Bear. We got junky mall food for lunch. We went to the little candy store that has "disappointing gummy BEARS but the best gummy WORMS in the whole world."

We stopped at the grocery store and got a little bit of junk food, a stuffed toy from the impulse aisle, she picked out a card for her dad for valentine's day, and we chose the stuff to make her favorite dinner, which is also the one she likes to help with - she pushes the switch on the Cuisinart to shred the cheese, it's adorable and slightly terrifying and she is drunk with power, giggling the entire time. She got downtime to craft and color and read while I cooked and helped her with words.

And the whole time, we talked. That was the best part. She talked to me, and I talked with her, good stuff and bad stuff and silly stuff and sweet stuff, and I swear we really Saw each other today.

I checked in with her about the color of her heart a bunch of times throughout the day. (Her answers were incredibly specific, btw.) Tonight at bedtime she said it was all the way pink again, and it was shaped like a cat and it was purring and making biscuits.

I am trying my ass off to be the mom I wish I'd had, the mom she deserves, the mom who protects her and uplifts her and cheers her on and comforts her and teaches her. This shit is HARD. This shit is WORTH IT, but this shit is hard.

[rabble-dabble]

A Karkat who isn't out to his friends about his blood color yet has to go to John to get patched up because all humans bleed red and thus John wouldn't think it's weird that he does too.

question but is it homoerotic to patch up your fellow friendleader so tenderly when he trusts no one else to and also linger your touch but only slightly subtly so as not to alert him to your pining gaze?

[devsquared]

For Theatre International we're supposed to bring in the text of a post from the internet that we find this week that is particularly striking

There's a bird site post floating around here I'm going to use, a post Michael Sheen wrote to a fan in answer to a question about their lack of confidence causing them trouble in a role they'd been cast in:

"Imagine the character is a real person who can only live again when someone plays them. They're desperate to be alive. To connect with people. To breathe. To see. To touch. Only you have the power to give that to them. Now get on with it and leave your worrying about yourself"

I love this so, so much. Memorised it immediately

Never been able to just "be confident." Oh sure I can fake it, but it's brittle and liable to lead to a self-centred sort of insecurity that revolves on itself getting ever worse, like the midnight picking of a hangnail. Bah. Useless. Boring

But shift the lens from the artist as someone who has to do it "right" - whatever that even means - to the artist as someone helping someone else, that's a mental-emotional place I can work from and thrive even in terrifying or frustrating conditions

It's like helping a friend move house, isn't it? You don't endlessly wonder if you're carrying the cartons "correctly." Or how other people will perceive your carton carrying. Cartons need carried; you carry cartons. Doesn't even matter if you're not confident about it. Your friend needs help and you provide it. I'm not trying to say there's no craft; I am saying that if there's craft in carton carrying, it probably comes after self-aware pantomime carton carrying gives way to authentic carton carrying

Very cool and sexy of the world to give me the 52 words that sever the entire artistic process from the rubbish holding me back right when I needed them and was ready to listen

[formula-ghost]

Read Your Diary (FC43 x fem!reader)

Chapter 3: Gossip

CHAPTER SUMMARY: You’ve always felt like you belonged right at Franco’s side, but as he begins to grow in popularity, you begin to wonder if his world has any place for you. 

WORD COUNT: 7.7k

WARNINGS: Hurt/comfort. Use of YN, mentions of anxiety disorders/therapy, reader has major self esteem issues and panic attacks. Appearance of Christian Horner (that man needs his own CW). There is a “manager” character that is not a reference to any of Franco’s IRL managers!

TAGLIST: @scopeiguess @storyteller-le @htpssgavi @wierdflowerpower @justsisse @xivilivix

A/N: I can’t thank you all enough for all the love you’ve shown on this fic 💙 It’s been incredible. I do want to sincerely apologize for leaving you with all this cliffhanger before I have to take a small hiatus with the holidays haha. I played around a bit with perspective in this chapter, so I hope it still reads clearly! Also, if you want to be added to the tag list, make sure your blog isn’t set to hidden and that you allow tags or else I’ll be unable to do that on my end. As always I hope you enjoy it :)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Sip the gossip, drink ‘til you choke

Sip the gossip, burn down your throat

You’re not iconic, you are just like them all

Don’t act like you don’t know 

Austin had been beautiful, and you had written down every word you could describing it. Mexico, however, was a race you wouldn’t exactly want to document.

It started out okay. Franco’s Forbes cover shoot was released, and, as predicted, it blew up the internet. Of course, you were happy for him. But to see the entire world want him almost as much as you wanted him was…disheartening.

For a long time, it had just been you and Franco. He had clawed his way up and earned everything he had achieved through hard work and unmatchable determination. You were his biggest fan and supporter. And it was just you and him against the odds.

You had been so happy for him to make it to F1 after all he’d worked for. And to see the world embrace him so wholeheartedly was beautiful. But you were scared, deep down, that you’d lose him in the glitz and glamor of pilot stardom. 

His place at Williams was only temporary, of course, but you knew that when he did eventually get a secure seat, your friendship would have to change. After all, you couldn’t fly around the world with him forever. But you figured you’d adapt, like you always did. It would all be okay in the end. Franco never gave you any reason to believe that you’d get left behind. 

That is, until Mexico. 

You barely saw him at the beginning of the week, with him being so busy filming for brand sponsorships. Come the weekend, a phone call from home had soured his mood. You let it be, knowing that now was the time to just support him in any way you could, even if that was just giving him space.

But on Saturday he had woken up feeling better, and you were happy, thinking that he’d turn this weekend around for the better. Mexico was full of Argentine fans, and again, you were both ecstatic for him and feeling a bit left behind. You weren’t from Argentina. You didn’t really speak Spanish. These random fans had that connection with him that you’d never have. 

You pushed it down—for now. You’d write about it later. 

But now you were on your way to Williams hospitality to meet Franco. He was beaming when you’d seen him at breakfast that morning. Some big Argentine musicians were coming to the paddock.

You would have been happier for him if he had introduced you to them. But now you sat in hospitality with Franco and the group, and they all completely ignored you. Franco hadn’t even introduced you.

Yes, you were naturally on the quieter side. Yes, you didn’t speak Spanish, which they now all excitedly talked in, laughing about something you’d never know. But did that really mean that you deserved to sit there, awkwardly glancing at your phone as your best friend ignored you?

And all the while, he was glancing over to the female singer sat opposite him. God, she was beautiful. And from Franco’s tone, you could tell he thought so too. He was flirting with her right in front of you.

Yes, you were just friends. But you had slept in his bed with him curled up into your side. He had celebrated every win with you since you were teenagers. But right now, you were nothing.

You just kind of stared off into the distance until you saw a familiar face. Lily to the rescue! She came over and waved to Franco and the group, who stopped their conversation for a brief second to wave back. 

“Hey YN, wanna come help us film a video?” she asked. Clearly this was just an out to help you escape the torture of being ignored. 

“Sure,” you agreed. When you got up to leave, Franco didn’t even acknowledge you. 

You and Lily walked into the garage. “Thank you for helping me out there.”

“Yeah, you looked like you were going through it. Were they that bad?”

“Well, I don’t know. Franco never even introduced me and I don’t speak Spanish.”

“So he just ignored you? That’s so rude,” he said, her face grimacing, “I’m sorry.”

You just shrugged and offered her a weak smile. There was that unspoken recognition from both of you; Franco had ignored you to flirt with the singer. She was everything you weren’t: beautiful, popular, confident. 

“Well, come hang with me and Alex. I’ll teach you how to make a tiktok,” she said.

You were surprised that her excuse hadn’t been an excuse at all—she actually wanted your company, unlike someone else. 

You went out to the pit lane to meet Alex. Fans were cheering from the sidelines. They were all screaming for Alex, of course, but a few yelled for Lily too. And one yelled for you. 

“YN! YN!” the girl yelled, Argentine flag in her grasp. Your head turned.  “YN! Can I get a picture with you?” she asked. 

You paused. “You want a picture with me?” 

She smiled. “Yes, if that’s okay.” You laughed, not mocking her, but just unsure to do with the absurdity of it all. 

“Of course,” you said, smiling for the camera. “I wasn’t trying to be rude,” you explained, “I’m just surprised you knew me.”

“Oh, we all know you. Everyone’s seen the videos of you and Franco. You all are so cute!” You knew what she meant—your friendship with him was endearing, you had to admit. But the reminder of him felt like a sharp dagger to the heart. Lily called you over, so you bid goodbye to the fan, an odd feeling settling in your chest. That could be unpacked later.

But later was sooner than you anticipated. You had a great time making videos with Lily and Alex, but they had gone to get lunch before qualifying, and you couldn’t find Franco anywhere. So you went to his driver’s room, and finding that even empty, you just gave up and stayed there. He had told you that his room was fair game to hide in if you ever felt overwhelmed, and you definitely did. Now that you were alone, all the emotions were rushing to the surface. 

So you opened your notebook to write.

I can’t believe Franco didn’t even introduce me to anyone this morning. I get it, I’m not like them. I’m not talented or famous or as beautiful as that girl is. God, she’s perfect. She’s everything a man could want. Why would Franco ever want someone like me? I’m just an anxious, dependent mess. I don’t blame him for flirting with her. I just wish he wouldn’t do it in front of me. 

You were spiraling, and soon enough tears came to your eyes. You tried to blink them away but it was futile. You felt like you were losing your best friend.

But, speak of the devil, he was at the door. 

“Oh, YN, I was looking for you,” he said absentmindedly as he walked in the room and fiddled with his helmet. “You left your phone in the garage, Lily has it.”

“Oh, shit,” you muttered. It seemed like you were developing a habit of losing things. You got up to meet Lily in the garage, making a mental note to stop at the bathroom to take a breather. You prayed that Franco wouldn't look at you, but today was your unlucky day, it seemed. As you walked out, he looked up and his eyes met yours, and you saw the concern dawn in his eyes. He moved to say something, but you just quickened your pace, and ignored him when you did hear him call after you. 

You found the nearest bathroom and broke down, allowing yourself to just cry it out for a few minutes. Your thoughts kept spiraling. You were ridiculous, you thought, breaking down over something so small. You were pathetic. No wonder he didn’t want you. Why would anyone? 

After a few minutes, you took a few deep breaths and steadied yourself and tried to make it look as if you hadn’t been crying. Qualifying would be starting soon. You quickly grabbed your phone from Lily, who thankfully didn’t say anything about your clearly post-sobbing session face, and you found a comfortable spot in the back of the garage to watch qualifying. 

He qualified 15th. Not great. Nothing to elicit a celebratory hug, though, God, you needed one right now. 

You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go back to the hotel and sleep away the weariness. So that’s what you did, skillfully avoiding Franco’s eye scanning the paddock for you.

When you got back to the hotel, you could barely change into your pajamas and get in the bed. You felt heavy like a block of lead. You checked your phone before bed, seeing that Franco had taken a photo with the musicians and posted it to Instagram. 

It was taken after you left, of course. As if you were never there at all.

The sight brought another wave of tears. You sighed in frustration and cried until the weight of it all lulled you to sleep.

The next morning, you didn’t even want to go to the grand prix. As you got up and tidied where you had gotten back and just thrown things around last night, you contemplated what to do.

On one hand, you wanted to support Franco even if you were upset. On the other hand, you thought you might burst into tears if you saw him again.

You just needed to write it out, and then you’d be able to face him. You grabbed your bag and fished around for your journal.

It was gone.

Shit.

Then you remembered, you had left it in his driver’s room yesterday. You groaned.

You checked your phone, intending to text him about it, only to find that he had already texted you last night while you were asleep. Just a simple, You okay? but you hadn’t answered. 

Frantic, you called him. He answered immediately. 

“Hey YN, you—”

“Have you seen my journal?”

“What?”

“My journal. I accidentally left it in your driver’s room yesterday.”

“No? I don’t remember seeing it.”

“Shit…” you whispered. Tears pricked in your eyes yet again. 

“I’m on my way to the track, I’ll check when I get there and ask the team about it,” he assured. “We’ll find it.”

“Thanks,” you said, your voice dry. 

“Look, are you okay? You just disappeared yesterday—”

“I’m fine,” you lied. He knew you were lying. 

“YN, talk to me. Please.” His voice was soft with genuine concern, but it pissed you off. There was no way he could know he was the cause of your upset if you didn’t tell him. But you just couldn’t. Not now, at least.

“Can I just meet you at your driver’s room to look for it?”

He sighed. “Yeah. I’ll be there in ten.” You hung up the call.

You had calmed yourself down a bit before you reached the track, but it was no use when you met Franco at his room and found it empty. The desk where you had set yesterday to write looked strangely devoid of life. 

You all wordlessly continued to look for a while, and even went around asking the Williams employees about it, but it was no use. It was gone. 

When you returned back to the room, defeated, you couldn’t help but cry. 

For fear of embarrassment, you'd never cried in front of Franco before, but you didn’t even have the capacity to try and hide it anymore. At first he looked startled, like he didn’t know what to do. But as you crumpled onto the small couch and he saw your body wracked with sobs, he knew all he could do was hold you.

So that’s what he did. 

His touch was warm and comforting, but it just made you weep all the more. He just held you tighter, and you were enveloped in the smell of his cologne. “It’s okay,” he whispered gently to you, “I’m here.”

When the sobs finally left you, he looked in your tear-stained eyes and asked, “Will you talk to me?”

You had never wanted to do anything less. But you knew that these were the moments that counted. Your journal had become a crutch rather than a tool—now was the time to actually do the hard work to get better. 

You began, “It’s stupid—” 

“I want to know anyway,” he assured.

You paused, then resumed, “It just really hurt me yesterday when you didn’t introduce me to anyone.”

He made a confused face at you. “I didn’t?” 

“No, Franco, you didn’t,” you said, your tone getting angrier. “You were too busy flirting with that singer to notice that I was sitting there alone.”

“She asked about you, though. I told her you were just a friend.”

Ouch. Just a friend. 

“I thought I was your best friend.”

“You are,” he assured, but it felt hollow. 

“It doesn’t feel like it when Lily has to come rescue me from being ignored all day.”

“I’m sorry, YN. I didn’t even realize it, I was just caught up in the conversation. Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Because I just felt like an intruder. I mean… I’m not a famous musician or anyone important in Formula 1. I’m not from Argentina, I don’t speak Spanish—”

He cut you off, “So? And you know my mother would adopt you in a heartbeat.”

You were unamused by his attempt at banter. “So, it just hurts because I don’t belong here. And when you ignore me, I’m just alone.”

He paused. “YN, I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t know what to say.

He continued, “But for the record, I was not flirting with anyone. You know the main reason I spend time with all these people is for the brand, right?”

You looked confused. “The brand? Since when do you care about your brand?” Franco was known for being impossible to media train. Why was he suddenly so concerned with his public reputation?

Even though you were alone in his driver’s room, he looked over his shoulder, listening out for any approaching footsteps. But you all were truly alone in the quiet morning at the paddock. “You have to promise to keep it quiet,” he said.

“I promise,” you whispered.

He leaned in closer. “There’s a chance, a very small chance, but a chance…that I could get a contract with Redbull next year.”

Your eyes widened. He continued, “Checo has been driving so bad that they want him out. But he brings in a lot of money and it’ll cost a lot to break my Williams contract. I need to show them that I can have just as much backing in Argentina as Checo has in Mexico.”

You were practically speechless. “Oh my God, Franco, that’s…”

But Franco was more worried about you. “The people are all nice enough, but I’d prefer your company over theirs any day. You’re still my best friend.”

The tears that threatened to fall now were happy ones, from pride in your best friend and the love you felt for him. 

You confessed, “I hope you get it. But I’m so scared that I’ll be left behind and forgotten.”

He reached to hold you again and you let him. “Never,” he said, “never. You’ve been here since the beginning, you’re not getting rid of me any time soon.”

You both broke the embrace and he wiped a tear from your cheek. The soft touch sent shivers down your spine.

“Thank you,” you said. 

He smiled at you. “No, thank you for opening up to me. You ready for the race today?”

You nodded, “Always.”

He didn’t score any points, but the points weren’t the point anymore. Your conversation earlier had made you feel so close to him in a way you never had before. You watched the screens in the garage with a religious reverence, looking into his eyes when the camera switched to face him. They were focused, like the only things in the world were him, the car, and the track ahead. And for you, that was all there was in the world, too.

Your celebration after the race was more subdued, but nonetheless supportive. As he walked to the media tent, you all glanced at each other and you mouthed to him proud of you. He winked back.

You all had fallen into a familiar routine of dinner together and winding down in his hotel room, and tonight was no different. Again you all found yourselves in the same positions: him, cross legged on the bed, and you in the chair near him. 

The atmosphere was a bit tense though. Being back at the hotel, you couldn’t help but remember the horrible morning, and what you had lost—your journal. Who would have thrown away a journal from his driver's room? You had asked around the paddock again after the race and no one had seen it.

Or maybe it hadn’t been thrown away. Maybe someone took it.

Your mind wandered back to the last few conversations with Franco: your “stolen” lipstick, his asking to read the journal…

No. He wouldn’t. That’d cross a line.

But weren’t the contents of the journal crossing a line themselves?

Franco noticed how you’d gone quieter since you got home from the paddock. You all were both exhausted.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, lazily tracing circles in the comforter.

You responded with your own question. “Franco, will you be honest with me?”

He looked up at you, his face hardened with concern. “Of course.” He looked nervous. 

“Do you have my journal?”

He shifted his gaze away from you. “No,” he said, simple as that. 

“Franco,” you began, “listen to me. I’m not mad, but you understand how this looks, right? I know we joke about this kind of stuff a lot, but you asked to read it and then it suddenly disappears after I left it in your driver’s room.”

“I didn’t even go back to the room after you left,” he said.

“Maybe not. But you got there this morning before I did. And now it’s gone.”

He paused. “You really think I’d steal your diary?”

The situation had become too tense for your liking. “I’m not trying to accuse you of anything,” you explained, “and I promise, I’m not mad. I just… there’s some things in there that are too personal for me to share with anyone, even you.”

“YN, I don’t have it.”

“Okay. I’m just saying, if you happen to find it, please promise me that you won’t read it. Please,” you quite literally begged. 

“I wouldn’t do that to you, YN. You know I was joking when I asked to read it, right?”

He wasn’t joking. Both of you knew that. And both of you knew that he had taken the diary.

You hoped that he would understand what you asked and respect your wishes. In a few days he’d text you saying that a Williams employee had randomly found it—another lie—and he would give it back to you, unread. And your friendship would go on like nothing had ever happened.

But what if it didn’t? What if he read every filthy word you had written about him?

You thought it through over and over later that night, back in your own room but unable to sleep. So you made a plan.

You and Franco, thankfully, would be on the same flight to Brazil. When you landed and went to the hotel, you’d swap out your room keys and go to his room while he did his media duties. Then, you’d find the journal in his room and take it back.

A few problems with the plan. One, It gave him the first 3 days of the week to read it, and two, it was fucking unhinged of you to go through your best friend’s stuff. 

You rolled over and angrily groaned into the pillow. 

Brazil was going to be an interesting time. 

Well, interesting was the understatement of the century.

It began on the flight, a flight that was way too fucking long. Thankfully, Franco had arranged for you to take this one together, so at least you had his company. 

You could never sleep on planes, they were too loud and uncomfortable. Franco usually did, but today it seemed he couldn’t; he bounced his legs and darted his eyes around the plane.

“Nervous?” you asked.

“Very,” he answered honestly. “There’s just so much going on this weekend.”

“I know,” you said reassuringly rather than condescendingly. “You really should try to get some rest though. It’s been a long few weeks for you.”

“I can’t. I’m too wired up.”

You felt an unexpected boldness come over you. “Close your eyes,” you directed, “and take a few deep breaths. Stay still.” 

He obeyed, and you grabbed his hand from the armrest between you and held it in yours. You felt him tense at the unexpected touch, but you slowly began to trace circles into his palm with your thumb, and he relaxed into it. With his own boldness, he placed his head on your shoulder and exhaled. Within minutes, he was fast asleep. You knew from experience that he’d be asleep for the rest of the flight, so you let yourself get comfortable with the familiar weight of your sleeping best friend pressing into your side.

Slivers of sunlight from the window traced the soft edges of his sleeping form. Even when unconscious, he was beautiful. If you truly wanted to, you could have turned ever so slightly and kissed his forehead without waking him. And God, you truly wanted to.

So you did, gently pressing your lips to the smooth surface of his skin. Maybe this was crossing a line, but it seemed like, at this point, all lines had been crossed between you two.

His presence calmed you enough that you were able to fall asleep, too. When you woke a few hours later, he was still fast asleep by your side, and you savored the moment.

But deep down you wondered how long this would last. You were head over heels in love with him. He was… well, you didn’t know how he felt. But he was your best friend in the entire world. He knew almost everything there was to know about you. 

He had four races left in F1. Four races until you would go back to your day to day lives; still intertwined, but not this close. And if he did get the seat, that you so desperately wanted for him? He’d be gone even more than he already was. You couldn’t follow him around the world forever. He’d go from city to city, race to race, club to club, woman to woman.

You felt your stomach drop at the thought of him with another woman. You remembered the singer in Austin, how he said he wasn’t flirting with her, it was for the brand, whatever excuse he could come up with. You guessed it was true. Or maybe he meant that it didn’t really mean anything to him. Just playing up that side of him that the media absolutely loved. His Argentine charm was undeniable. 

Okay, then maybe it was true. Everyone knew Franco was a flirt, you especially. But it made it so much harder to determine, then, what was truly meaningful to him and what wasn’t. 

But your friendship meant something to him, right? He had asked you to come along to all his races. He made time for you in the midst of the paddock’s chaos. You had slept in the same bed. He held you when you cried. And now, he slept peacefully on your shoulder, hands still intertwined. How could that not mean something?

You didn’t want your fears of the future to make you miss out on the present. At some point you’d have to open up to him. But that moment wasn’t right now. 

And you were determined that you’d be the one in control, so when you landed and made it to the hotel, you enacted your plan you’d concocted earlier. When the receptionist handed you the keys, you waited until Franco was fiddling with your luggage to switch out two, making sure to hand him the correct key. He would never need to know that the other key in the little paper pocket was the key to your room, and if he did, he’d just assume there was an issue. A natural cover.

Okay, maybe you were smart and smooth with it. 

You knew you wouldn’t see much of Franco in Brazil. With stakes this high, he had an overwhelming amount of team meetings and media duties. Still, as usual, you all made your way to the paddock together. 

The energy was electric—in good ways and bad. Good: there were so many Argentine fans that you often found yourself questioning what country you were in. The amount of support was unreal. And each one of them were proud of Franco—but not as proud as you were.

Bad: Literally everything else.

But that was yet to come. You entered the paddock to a flurry of camera shots and a cacophony of voices yelling for Franco. 

Usually you liked to stay out of the shot of cameras, but it was impossible here. Franco did his best to draw their attention towards him and away from you, but it was overwhelming nonetheless.

As you all passed a group of fans, one in particular caught your eye. She was holding out two bracelets. “Franco, YN!” she called out. 

You both stopped to speak to her. “I made you all bracelets,” she said, handing one to you and the other to Franco. You read the beads: it had Franco’s name, number, and blue hearts. You smiled at the adorable gesture. 

“Oh,” Franco said, looking at you, “This one has your name on it. Let’s switch.”

As he moved his hand to do so, the fan said, “No, they’re supposed to be like that. They’re friendship bracelets for you all!”

“Thank you,” you said, unsure if the warmth of your cheeks was a soft blush forming or from the chaos around you. The fan had wanted you to wear each other’s names.

You kept walking, but when you were out of eyeshot, you offered to switch the bracelets around again, thinking the implication was a little too much for him. He refused, keeping your name around his wrist.

He went off to wherever he needed to be, and you went to William’s hospitality to find Lily, but unfortunately, she wasn’t in Brazil at all.

Maybe, in hindsight, what you did next was a terrible decision. But you did it anyway. 

You made your way to Franco’s drivers room for some privacy and pulled up your social media, looking to see what people were saying about him. 

Ever since he had confided about his potential for a seat next year, you had also cared about his brand, too. And, officially or unofficially, you were a part of that. Like Lily had told you, people were speculating. You just hoped that what she said about the people loving you was true. 

Fortunately, it was. 

Franco and YN being obliviously in love with each other; a thread

You tapped on the post, reading your way through the comments.

Does YN know that she’s living our dream?

Oh to be YN, being loved by Franco like that.

Need someone to look at me the way YN and Franco look at each other.

Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love YN, but Franco should be with an Argentine girl. They’d be a power couple. 

The comment soured your mood. You kept reading anyway.

Guys, I met YN in Austin and she was so sweet! Our girl is chronically offline because she was so surprised that I even knew who she was and like, girl, WHAT DO YOU MEAN? WE ARE ALL ROOTING FOR YOU!!

You smiled, the memory of the girl in Austin coming back to your mind. 

I love how we have all collectively decided to adopt YN as the newest wag even though her and Franco aren’t even dating 

You laughed to yourself, remembering how Lily had mistaken you for a wag when you first talked. Maybe that was the reason why.

You read the replies: 

To be fair, you don’t look at someone like that unless you LOVE LOVE them

Does anyone else think this is weird tho? I mean, they're just friends but the entire internet wants them to get together, must make things so awkward…

Honestly I’m glad they’re not together because if my bf flirted with other women the way Franco flirts with reporters, I’d throw the whole man away

You snorted. Of course, these random people on the internet didn’t know you, but they seemed to get inside your head a little too much for comfort. Or maybe you just weren’t as good at hiding your emotions as you always thought you were. 

Speaking of hiding your emotions, you had a job to do. Checking your clock, you knew that Franco was going to be busy for the next 3 hours before you all had planned to meet up again. He had a very important meeting with Christian Horner. Your heart skipped a beat and you said a silent prayer for your friend.

But now, you have a mission. You were going to get your journal back.

It would have been an easy task, if not for the fans. Thankfully you got out and into an uber undetected, but upon opening the door to his room, you cursed them in your head.

Gifts were everywhere. His team must have been gathering them all week, and Franco clearly wasn’t organizing them. 

You thought 3 hours would be more than enough to leave, find your journal, return it to your room, and get back to the paddock unnoticed. Maybe, you thought wrong. This was going to be a long 3 hours. 

As you searched, back at the paddock, Franco sat in the meeting that would decide the course of the rest of his life. His leg bounced uncontrollably, his mouth was dry, and he felt like he was going to throw up his breakfast. 

He wished you were here. Your presence always calmed him in moments like these; he had no idea where you were, and the intimidating presence of Christian Horner across the table did nothing to ease his nerves. 

“I’ve got to admit,” Horner said, “he’s exceeded everyone’s expectations. But a couple good races doesn’t tell us much.”

Franco’s manager replied, “Of course, we understand. But he’s got more than enough of a fanbase to rival any driver. I mean, just look outside and it’s a sea of Argentine flags!”

“Fans are good, but does that translate to sponsors? I mean, you’ve got to compete with Disney here. Not every driver can bring in that level of support.”

“We’ve gotten some strong sponsors recently, and a lot more in the works currently. Franco’s future is promising.”

“What about his PR? Any disasters there?” Horner laughed.  

Franco’s manager, however, did not. “He’s good. The fans love him, and he knows when to shut up.”

Franco suppressed a laugh. Anyone who had been around him for more than 5 minutes knew that he was a PR nightmare. And it seemed Horner knew it too.

“Now, that’s not what I’ve heard,” he said. “I’ve seen the videos. You strike the balance well for the most part, but you can’t be telling people not to buy Redbull merch.” They all laughed. “And you can’t be bringing your girlfriend to every race.”

Franco’s manager began to speak, but not before Franco cut her off. “My girlfriend?” 

“Yeah, YN isn’t it? As far as I’ve seen, the fans like her, but if she’s constantly around they’ll get fatigued. Again, it’s a delicate balance.”

“YN isn’t my girlfriend.” The sentence felt…odd, as Franco said it with a matter of fact tone.

“Oh, even better. We can get you with an Argentinian woman, then. Maximize that market.”

“A PR relationship? Those are real?” Franco questioned, and Horner laughed, as if Franco was the dumbest one in the room, and he certainly felt like it. 

“Not really. Just be seen a few times, like some posts, maybe go to events together if you wanna really get serious about it. Generate talk, you know.”

“Isn’t that what happens with YN now anyway? I mean, everyone already thinks we’re dating.”

“Yeah, but she’s nobody. No offense,” Horner said, as if his comment held no weight. “But with a celebrity or model? That really gets people talking. A little controversy is good.”

Franco felt sick to his stomach. She’s nobody. But she was somebody, to him. She was his best friend. 

“Look, kid,” Horner began, “I agree that you’ve got promise, but it’s too early to make any decisions right now. Show us what you’ve got in these last few races, and maybe we can work something out.”

Everyone rose to exchange polite goodbyes and handshakes. Franco felt like he was in a totally different plane of existence.

His manager came over to him afterwards. “You did well, Franco. We’ll just do as he said—keep focused, get results, and keep your head down. Seriously, watch it with the media.”

Franco nodded absentmindedly, but his manager wasn’t happy with that response. “What’s wrong?” she asked. 

Franco began, “Look, a PR relationship, seriously? And he’s telling me I can’t have my best friend in the paddock?”

“I think YN will survive if she doesn’t come to every single race.”

“But I want her here with me. I don’t want to hurt her.” He remembered Austin, holding you while you cried, afraid that he’d leave you behind. And here push had come to shove. 

His manager looked at him, incredulous. “Seriously, Franco, this is what you're focused on? You have a shot at a seat with Redbull, and you’re more focused on not hurting YN’s feelings? How do you expect to achieve this with that attitude?” 

Franco was upset now. “Don’t say that. Even Horner said I’ve been exceeding expectations.”

“I know you have, and we’re all proud of you. But you need to stay focused. Leave the women alone.”

“YN is not just a random woman, she’s my best friend.”

His manager’s frustration was growing by the second. “I know Franco. I know you love her, we all love her. But she is not your priority right now. Your future is, okay?” 

Hearing those words felt like a rollercoaster, complete with the euphoric highs and stomach churning lows. I know you love her—well, it was true, you were his best friend. But what kind of love? He didn’t know, and besides, the low—she is not your priority right now—he didn’t have the time or space to find out. 

He had a job to do.

All the while, you also had a job to do, but you were failing spectacularly. You had searched every square inch of that fucking room. You looked in every nook and cranny, every pocket and pouch, under the covers and even in the bathroom. Your journal wasn’t there. 

There was no way Franco was this good at hiding anything (other than emotions, maybe). You now had to entertain the possibility that you had been wrong all along.

Maybe he didn’t have the journal. Maybe you had just accused him of lying and shown that you don’t really trust your best friend. 

You let out a frustrated groan as you put everything back in place. You couldn’t believe it. 

If he didn’t have the journal, then where was it?

It was a question you’d have to answer later, because right now you were racing to reconfigure his room and get back to the paddock before anyone noticed that you were gone. 

You barely made it in time, arriving at the Williams garage with your body in fight or flight mode. You spotted Franco instantly.

“YN! There you are,” he said. “I thought I lost you.”

“Oh yeah, I was with some fans.” The lie just slipped out without you having to think about it. You’d never done that before—who were you becoming?

Franco looked confused. “You were? Since when do you willingly leave the paddock?” he questioned, clearly joking.

“Since I have to help the brand,” you smiled. “By the way, how did the meeting go?”

He just replied, “Good.” 

Franco was never a man of few words, so his hesitancy to speak was a red flag.

“Top secret?” you asked, thankfully giving him an out.

“Yeah, it’s… complicated.” 

“Well, you know I’m always here rooting for you,” you said, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand. The gesture sent shivers down your spine.

Seriously, who were you becoming?

The next day didn’t make the situation any easier. The morning sprint had granted Franco another 12th place finish—no points, but still respectable. At least, it was to you. You could tell that he wasn’t happy. You knew that he pushed himself too hard, because how else would he be able to achieve, but it still broke your heart. You assumed that the meeting yesterday hadn’t been the greatest, and you wished that Franco would talk to you about it. But he didn’t. That was okay, you’d done the same to him before. You just wanted to be there to support him, even if it meant being on the sidelines, in the dark both physically and metaphorically.

And the darkness was looming over Interlagos. The forecast was horrific. The reality was even more horrific. 

As the rain poured down in sheets, you silently said a prayer for all the poor souls with General Admission tickets who must be swimming right now. You were nice and dry under the paddock, thankfully, but outside it was practically a monsoon.

Everyone knew qualifying would get postponed, it was just a matter of time until a final decision would be made. The atmosphere was tense—a championship battle loomed in the distance between Max and Lando, and Franco would be driving for his life. 

But as the hours passed and the rain continued, the energy around the paddock loosened up. You saw Lando and Oscar at the gates waving to fans, George jumping in puddles, Ollie taking naps against the warm tires. 

So, of course, Franco would enjoy his time too.

His manager stood in the back corner of the garage, talking with one of the media interns. Looking at her, Franco felt his frustration return. He had never been the stubborn type. But since making it to Formula 1, he had been told what to do left and right. Go here, say this, don’t do that. It pissed him off. 

He was going to do what he wanted to, at least this once. 

Of course, you were oblivious to all of this. You didn’t know what to make of it when he walked onto the pit lane, exposing himself to the elements. Within seconds his fluffy curls were flattened and he would be dripping in rainwater when he came back into the garage. 

“YN!” he called into the garage. “Come dance with me!” 

You looked up from your phone, and the garage around you was still buzzing, but you could feel everyone’s necks craning to listen and look upon whatever antics Franco was up to.

You just laughed and shook your head. You weren’t getting out in that mess.

But you didn’t have a choice. Franco marched his way up to the garage and yanked you out. 

You yelped his name playfully as he dragged you to the middle of the pitlane and put his arms around your waist. 

“What are you doing?” you asked him through your widening smile.

“Dancing. Having fun,” he answered. His arms stayed around your waist, too close to be platonic.

You turned to the crowd of fans in the grandstand in the distance. “We have an audience. Is this good for the brand?” 

It would seem ‘the brand’ was becoming a running bit, until Franco shut it down. “Fuck the brand. Dance with me.”

He pulled you closer, the only thing separating you being the layers of clothes that were thinning with the rain. He spun you and you all danced back and forth, giggling when you splashed in the  puddles swiftly gathering around you. 

And then he dipped you. The world felt like it stopped for a moment. You were suspended in air, an electric warmth between you and your best friend, the only two people in the world.

He brought you back up and you both stopped. Your eyes met for what must have only been a split second. It was like all at once, all the love you had for him flooded your heart, stronger than the unrelenting rain. 

Everything about him was beautiful. His arms wrapped around your waist, his eyes now looking at your lips—

He was going to kiss you.

That is, until his manager yelled at you both from inside the garage. “Franco! Quit fucking around and get in here!”

The moment was ruined.

You both sheepishly returned to the garage. Your anxiety had faded in that perfect moment with him, but had now returned with a vengeance upon hearing the frustration of his manager. Luckily, everyone else in the garage seemed to not care. But Franco looked like a kid getting called to the principal’s office at school.

Before you even got back in the garage, you turned to him and said, “Franco, I’m sorry for getting you in trouble, I—”

He cut you off. “You didn’t get me in trouble,” he joked, “I got myself in trouble. Don’t worry about it. You can shower in my driver’s room, I should have a spare sweater in there. I’ll try to meet you there.”

You nodded as you went your separate ways.

You did as Franco said, having a quick shower and doing your best to dry your hair in his driver’s room. You grabbed the spare Williams quarter zip he had and slid it on, relishing in the warmth and the smell of his cologne. You felt safe here, quiet and alone, knowing that he’d come meet you when he could. You scrolled on your phone to pass the time.

Of course, it had only been minutes and you all had already gone viral.  

You tapped on the post of a gossip page.

Williams driver Franco Colapinto and friend YN seen in Interlagos having a sweet moment dancing in the rain! Although the pair are quoted calling each other just friends, fans continue to speculate about the true nature of their relationship. What do you think? Sound off below!

You scrolled to the comments.

Might as well just make out with her in parc ferme smh

Why are they actually the main characters of a rom com

Sooooooo when is he proposing

YN the woman that you are. I’d ask what we are after being held like that

You smiled. Maybe the internet was starting to grow on you. 

Back in the paddock, Franco was soaked to the bone, shivering, and being scolded by his manager.

“I told you to keep a low profile. What was that stunt?”

“I was just having fun—”

“I know. That’s the problem. You are not here to have fun. You are here to compete.”

“Having fun doesn’t impact my ability to drive,” he said, his voice sharp with anger. “Look, I get that you want what is best for me. But I’m not stupid. Fans love this kind of stuff, they eat it up. And I’m improving every day with my driving. Just let me do what I do best.”

“And you’re doing this purely for the fans?” she asked. They both knew the answer. Franco was silent. She continued, “Franco, she’ll be here at the end of the season no matter what. But this opportunity won't if you don’t focus. You’re distracted.”

“This will be good publicity. The fans like it when I’m flirty.”

“You’re not here to be flirty. You’re here to drive,” she said with a forceful and final tone. She sighed. “The FIA just announced that quali is postponed until tomorrow morning. Go back to the hotel, get some rest, and come back tomorrow ready to perform, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed. 

When he finally made it back to his driver’s room, he found you asleep on the small couch. He thought his heart would burst.

Quietly, he took a shower and changed into dry clothes. He sat down and just watched your sleeping frame, taking in how beautiful you were.

But you couldn’t stay here all night. He woke you up by gently brushing your hair out of your face, and you stirred at his touch.

“YN,” he whispered. “Quali is postponed. Time to go.” You sleepily rose and followed him out of the paddock, only fully waking up on the Uber ride back to the hotel.

The drive was quiet, but peaceful. It was dark out, and the rain scattered the light from the street lamps of Sao Paulo. Franco looked out the window, contemplative. It was a side of him you'd never seen before.

You placed your hand in the middle between you two, and wordlessly, he held it in his own.

It was unspoken, this new…thing, between you two. You both knew that something had fundamentally changed. It was a question of who would crack first. 

Franco knew, though, that his manager was right. He needed to focus. He needed to deliver. And you’d be here at the end.

But when he laid in his bed alone later that night, he couldn’t rest. All he could think about was that moment you both had felt, and his eyes that had focused on the soft skin of your lips. How badly he had wanted you in that moment. 

A line had been crossed, yes, but that wasn’t the only one. 

In his backpack, there had been a weight that had hung over him the past few days. A metaphorical one. He had kept it on his person at all times for safekeeping, not wanting to risk anyone finding out what he’d done.

He told himself he wouldn’t do it. But he needed more of you that he couldn’t have—not now, at least. 

But he could have this, right now.

So he sat up in bed, grabbing the small leather diary from the bag, and opened the first page.  

[weirdlandtv]

How to depict blinking in a comic? Oh hello, by the way. Yes, I'm still alive. I'm fine and how are you and all that but—how to depict blinking in a comic strip? Carl Barks used this method—

The ducks' huge eyes are split in two, with one set of slightly faded pupils in the top half (see image 1), and another of solid black pupils in the lower half, both sets cut off in such a way that the “stacked” pupils don't appear like one large elongated pupil (a thin white horizontal line separates the two states as well); and that, with the added "Blink! Blink!" gets the job done perfectly. Here’s another slightly different blink:

(Now that I'm writing this stuff about top half, bottom half I'm suddenly reminded of a Barks gag I came across: a file cabinet in the background of a panel with one drawer saying TOP SECRET and the one below it saying BOTTOM SECRET.)

Really though, Barks's brilliant stories are en endless source of great ideas, gags, splash pages, twists, visual tricks, pacing, phrasing, suspense building, the whole proverbial "shebang", whatever a shebang is: I've said it before on this blog but any budding artist or writer—heck, even a professional one—could learn a lot from Barks's best work. Fireworks of creativity.

Re-reading some of Barks's stories, as I sometimes do by way of therapy, it struck me that many panels consist of three main elements: a foreground element, a middle section where the action takes place, and a background:

This foreground element can really be anything. It can be a bush, a tree, a rock, even a wave:

It can be a chair, a table, or any other piece of interior:

It can be a character, or just their silhouette:

And of course it's also a good way to hide snooping villains:

In the Gyro Gearloose stories the foreground element is often Little Helper having a kind of silent slapstick adventure of his own (in Dutch here as it’s from my own copy):

…Also, how is this for dark:

[ramonathinks]

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓…. — drabbles, blurbs, one shots all dedicated to my one and only [18+ only] and thank you to my bae, sexy lexi ( @sugugasm ) for making this 😚 artwork is by @/karla_drawanime on insta! no minors, blank accounts or ageless blogs

guide -> 🍨— drabbles | 🧁 — one shots | 🍧 — longer fics | 🪷 — fluff | 🍦 — angst | 🍰 — smut

𝓶𝓸𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓶𝓸𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓻𝓼 — ahem, yall know how i feel about him 💔, yall know his death killed me several times over. so please don’t rush me on this, plus i am also in school and graduating this year so yeah✋🏾 but a lot of these are already started just not finished. some of the longerrr ones might be removed bc ramona is lazy @karla_drawanime

click here to join the taglist!

꒰ 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓫𝓾𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓰𝓸 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓷 ꒱— “satoru, you’re way too pretty to be a boxer.” you know it and he knows it too, so why must he continue? | cw: sex, etc boxer gojo x reader (nurse in training) 🧁🍦🍰

꒰ 𝓶𝓸𝓭𝓮𝓵 𝓫𝓮𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓻꒱ — male model gojo x makeup artist reader; that’s it, that’s the plot. | cw: banter, make outs and handjobs. 🍨🍰

꒰ 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾’𝓭 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓻꒱ — one night stand results in a baby and when a member of the gojo clan spots you, she kidnaps your daughter. now you need to call your baby’s father, who doesn’t know he has a child. | cw: one night stand, accidentally pregnancy, angsty 🧁🍦

꒰ 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓭𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷 𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴꒱ — you’re a professor and satoru gojo is your student, you definitely shouldn’t be fucking him. | prof!reader x camboy!gojo 🧁🍰

꒰ 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 ꒱ — he’s a professional swimmer and you’re just a water girl | cw 🧁🍰

꒰ 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓼 & 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓼 ꒱— she’s broken a million hearts before and now he declares that he wants her to ruin his life as well 🧁

꒰ 𝓼𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓾 𝓰𝓸𝓳𝓸 𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓭𝓲𝓮꒱— after dating three girls at once, they decide to get revenge using a secret weapon: you 🧁🍰

꒰𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓬꒱ — gojo uses magic to score a date with you. 🍨🪷

꒰𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓭𝓲𝓮𝓭 𝓭𝓲𝓭𝓷’𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝔂 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓭, 𝔂𝓸𝓾’𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮, 𝔂𝓸𝓾’𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭꒱ -- you talk to yuuji about gojo. | cw slight angst, jjk spoilers, coping, therapy 🍦🍨

꒰𝓫𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼꒱ — “satoru, quick question… why is tumblr downloaded on your phone?” or you find out your guy best friend writes fanfiction. | cw 🧁🍰

꒰𝓫𝓮𝓭 𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓶꒱ — when gojo finds out that some women doesn’t orgasm from sex, he goes on a conquest to ask the previous girls he fucked — only he gets no replies, until you. | cw 🧁🍰

꒰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓼꒱— gojo sees you tie a cherry knot with your tongue and dies a little inside. | cw making out 🍨

꒰𝔀𝓮𝓽꒱ — the fraternity is holding a wet tshirt contest, only it’s the guys who’s shirts are wet. | cw 🍨

꒰𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓬𝓴꒱ — gojo’s a popstar and you hate him, but now after meeting him you can finally see the appeal. | cw

꒰𝓼𝓹𝓪𝓬𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 (ft. nanami)꒱ — yes, it’s true: two believed to be dead sorcerers faked their deaths to be with their favorite girl, who’s in malaysia. | cw 🧁🍰

꒰𝓶𝓻𝓼. 𝓸𝓯𝓯𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓻꒱ — gojo is speeding and does what he does best to avoid messing up his perfect driving record. | cw oral 🍨🍰

꒰𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓬𝓱 ꒱-- after showing your friends a few text messages you received from an ai bot, you think they’d finally get off of your case of being the “lonely” friend but instead, they wish to meet him. and behold, he’s there in the flesh? 🍰🧁

꒰ 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 ꒱— dared to steal the boxers of the hottest guy on campus seems easy enough, until you find out it’s gojo satoru aka your brother’s best friend. | cw sex

꒰𝓰𝓸𝓭, 𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 𝓸𝓾𝓽꒱ -- (rivals to lovers) You’re a hard worker, always have been. You don’t deserve to be paired with the slacker that is Satoru Gojo, who thinks his good looks fame and charm will get him everywhere in life. Paired together in Fashion&Design to create a catalog of the best designs for an extravagant event by the end of their semester, You and Gojo must put aside their petty differences and come together to not only pass the class with high marks but also to get an internship working with two of the top design companies, this of course means nothing to Gojo but everything to you, will you be able to work together with him despite his attitude and get underneath that wannabe slacker exterior to undercover that there’s more there than meets the eye? Or will Gojo leave her on her toes until the end of the semester by forcing her to take on more than she can chew? | cw rivals to lovers, sexual tension, banter, slight angst, harsh family dynamics, eventual sex, making out, kissing, etc. 🍰🍧

꒰𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓻 𝓘 𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂꒱ — awkward, that was the way you were always described. but now freshly 19 and with a body to die for, you’re excited to finally go to your family’s old beach house to unwind for break. until you find out your sister brought her two idiotic best friends. (reader is shoko's step-sister!) 🍰🍧

꒰𝓹𝓾𝓼𝓱 2 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓽 ꒱ — you promise gojo if he wins this race, you'll finally let him fuck. | cw: tba🧁🍰

꒰𝓬𝓪𝓷’𝓽 𝓽𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓻꒱ — she’s a mean girl, he’s a nerd… is there really more to say? [based off: “you wanna do it?” “do what?” “fuck” tiktok audio] 🧁🍰

[werecreature-addicted]

Hi. I’d like to make a confession. I want a demon boyfriend who bounces me on his cock while I grip his horns for leverage. When he cums, it’s hot and tingly, like a shot of whiskey on a cold day. Then we snuggle as he holds me in his arms with his wings closed around us and his tail wrapped securely around my leg. Alright. I’m going to go sign up for electroshock therapy. Y’all take care now. Love the blog. ✌️

I love the idea of demons having sensitive horns, especially around the base. so when you hold onto his horns it just drives him WILD and he just can't help but fuck up into you harder-which makes you grip his horns tighter- which makes him fuck you harder. it's such a vicious cycle.

I'm also a big fan of demons with glowing cocks/cum. Like UGHHHH a glowing stomach bulge is so fucking hot to me. its never been so easy to watch your lover rearrange your guts! or like with the cum Imagine your demon forcing you to look at him fucking you, watch as his cock goes in and out and in and out then he gives one final sharp trust and suddenly there's something lighting you up from the inside.

and yes of course his cum isn't just warm. it's hot, everything about him is hot. his skin, his breath, his growls, and it's perfect to keep you nice and toasty if your heat ever gives out. Imagine your demon boyfriend jerking off and cumming on a rag then he makes you hump it. even with his cum cooling down it's still warm, and wet and ugh it feels good pressing it between your legs and just the idea of humping his cum rag is so fucking dirty- you're a MESS. also side note but demons cum buckets. I don't make the rules.

as for tails... as much fun as it is to have him fucking you with it I'd like to propose- Demon boyfriend using his tail as a gag. like he's fucking you from behind and his long tail swings around to slip into your mouth, choking you a little bit on the flared head but successfully muffling your moans. just be careful with your teeth. you wouldn't want to get punished, would you? you wouldn't want him to take his tail out of your mouth and use it more like a whip... would you?

and I know demons are usually portrayed with bat wings but I just love feathery angel wings too much. your demon boyfriend leaves feathers every fucking where. as a subtle way to mark your home as his territory. he will also make you wear some of his black feathers in a necklace. Because you're being a bitch and won't let him carve demonic runes in your skin to mark you as his- so the feather will have to do... for now.

anyways we should see if there's a two-for-one deal on electro-shock therapy.

[wayfayrr]

hey uh. if requests r open. would it b possible to request a follow up to that self-aware-twi fic. if not thats ok i just wanted u to know i havent stopped thinking about it since i read it. altered my brain chemistry, touch-starved twilight princess link my beloved, etc etc. ur writing is top-tier <3<3<3

I think the best part about this ask is - I've had this written since early January. I actually wrote part two as a birthday gift for a good friend of mine @glowyskull <33

So this is more just me finally posting it sfbgdfbgdb. it's also funny to think that the twilight fic is my most popular fic now considering how the self aware au really started as just a really guiltily self indulgent fic - something fun to write that I didn't think could get as big as it did on my blog. and I'm glad that you liked it so much <333 whimpery touch starved twilight princess link is just so AUGH love him so

[masterlist]

“Oh you’re finally wakin up then darlin’.”

“...hmm?”

“C’mon darlin’, you can’t have forgotten what happened earlier already? Can you? Your fever - cold isn’t that bad so you can't have…”

Who’s rambling… and why does it sound so familiar?  Wait does that mean - is everything that happened earlier all real then, did link really crawl out of my tv just because he was lonely. Because I left him there, left him all on his own to rot in his own solitude. 

“Link? You - that - everything was real then? All of it?”

“All of it darlin’, from how I got out to how I’m never gonna leave ya.”

“Huh..? I could’ve sworn that you didn’t even mention anything like that…”

“Mhm, well you’re ill and still a little out of it darlin’ so you probably just forgot, you did agree though.” 

It does sound like something that I would agree to, I mean I’m the reason that he’s sentient. It would be cruel of me to throw him to the other wolves, he isn’t from here but besides even that, he isn’t from here. He doesn’t know how this world works, it would be worse than sending a dog to a shelter. It would be his death sentence for certain, and after all that I put him through for a simple pause in playing. The way he’s petting my hair like this though, it’s enough to simply just wash the rest of my worries away, if I could I would spend the rest of my life right here easily.  

“About your illness though, do you have any red potion anywhere?” 

“No, no things like that don’t exist here link and the painkillers I have aren’t worth moving for.” 

“If you’re sure… I’ll go and get them for you the second you change your mind.”    

“You don’t even know where I keep them.” 

His hand paused at that, causing me to let out an involuntary whine. I couldn’t even think to stop it with how it slipped out instantly, which he seemed fond of. Cuddling me closer to his chest and resting his head on top of mine, with what felt like a giant smile on his face. 

“I can look for them, It’s not like I won’t need to learn where everything is now that I’m living with ya… besides I’ve already put you through so much stress when you’re not well.”

“You didn’t mean to link, how could you have known I was sick?”

“...I don’t know - I just - it shouldn’t have been hard to know with how you looked when you opened the game. I’m sorry love I just wasn’t even thinking I just wanted to be out, but I should’ve been more considerate to you.”

With how silent he is in the game you could never have guessed how much he likes to ramble, it’s the second or third time it’s happened since he crawled out of the glas- the glass. Are his bandages holding up, he seems fine but he’s not from here, any infection could be deadly. He wouldn’t even see it coming with how much he’s fawning over my comfort right now. 

“Link?” “Yes, darlin’?”

Oh wow, he - well he’s whipped already. Is it real love or has all that time trapped alone twisted him into this. I’d look into getting him therapy but… if he mentioned the truth then it would be a matter of seconds until he’d be diagnosed with something inaccurate. No one. No one at all would ever believe that a video game character actually broke out of their game - especially not someone like Link falling for an exhausted student like me.

“Are you feeling alright? You have so many cuts and wounds right now.”

“It’s nothing that’s worse than anything else I’ve ever had. They do feel more real though.”

“...real?”

“They feel like real wounds, not something that could be healed away in seconds and they’re just tiny scrapes.”He sounds so giddy as he’s talking about being hurt - it’s unnerving when he starts holding me even tighter when he’s saying it. I don’t think I’m ever going to be getting away from him ever again… if I wanted to. Why shouldn’t I take a chance at having a relationship though. He cares about me - he really does even if it’s unhinged - it would be so nice to come home to him, to be able to spoil him and be spoilt by him. Even being held like this feels so unreal, so impossible that I shouldn’t be here with him. So much so that I want to stay here and fall back asleep without any argument. Didn’t he even say he wanted to be my lover? Why look over a gift too closely?

[etheralisi]

I’m not planning on a third soon, but hey, who knows. Whenever inspiration strikes, right? Anyway, here’s part 2 of Rottmnt fake posting. 

Find part 1 here  and 3+3.5 here

🌎yes-the-earth-is-flat Follow

Yea the Earth is flat. What’s my proof you ask? Everything is flat.

#I keep trying to tell you all #It’s a 2D world and we’re all just living in it. #But do you listen? Nooooo

126 notes

🏒 HOCKEYORDEATH Follow

YOU WILL HAVE MY BROWNIE RECIPE OVER MY DEAD BODY

💀outoftouchoutoftime Follow

Then why don’t I have your recipe?

🏒 HOCKEYORDEATH Follow

… I’M PAYING FOR YOUR THERAPY

13 notes

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Do not teleport mid sneeze

It is not a good idea

Sincerely with regret, me

🌫️mistyme Follow

… okay???

🌼i-eat-plastic-flowers Follow

Tp in what game again?

63 notes

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

2k into a Lou Jitsu Jupiter Jim crossover fic and I’m shutting the tab because he would not say that

I knew that summary was too good to be true

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

Shocking. You read?

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Look, it was a pod fic but still

372 notes

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

HOT

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

SOUUUP

🎨 asprinkleofrazzmatazz Follow

SOUUUUUUUUP!!!!!

🏒 HOCKEYORDEATH Follow

CROSS BUNS

🥊 red_hotsoup Follow

HOT SOOOUUUUPPPPPPPPPPP

🌽 sherlock_corn Follow

Someone misunderstood the assignment 

578 notes

thehibernator said: What happened to your Ghostbear sideblog?

🥊 red_hotsoup Follow

Red doesn’t like to talk about it 

#Nine times out of ten your heroes want to kill you #One out of ten and they turn out to be your dad #Yeah GB is still cool but it’s complicated 

56 notes

👥shadow-slunk Follow

Out of ten how drunk were you last night? Drunk enough to hallucinate a dancing bull in a suit next question 

8,965 notes

💀outoftouchoutoftime Follow

Tried apple pie for the first time today

100/10

👺noomenisgood Follow

Where were you eating rats????

💀outoftouchoutoftime Follow

In the caves 

107 notes

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

Yes Atomic Lass I am single

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Can you not

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

No one asked you to be here

43 notes

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Update: Purple has blocked me again

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Everyone spam his inbox in my absence. It’s what I would have wanted 

#revenge is a dish best served blue

22 notes

🐢daily-turtle-appreciation-blog Follow

I love turtles

🎨 asprinkleofrazzmatazz Follow

And they love you ♡

695 notes

🦵kick-back Follow

If no one has ever seen the seven deadly vipers move in action, how do we even know it exists?

🚀jj-sails Follow

You take that back

🌽 sherlock_corn Follow

Oh it exits alright

#🤫

3,399 notes

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

Word on the street is that Purple Game 3 will be released soon.

🥊 red_hotsoup Follow

Purple no

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

Purple yes.

🥊 red_hotsoup Follow

Have you learned nothing????

86 notes

wise-girl said: You’re a doctor?

🎨 asprinkleofrazzmatazz Follow

Yes. Here’s my PHD

532 notes

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Does anyone have another good website for buying Lou Jitsu comics in print? Jitsujungle shut down and I still need to restock my collection 

15 notes

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

Daily reminder to double check your vehicle for stowaway wizards. They get everywhere

🎨 asprinkleofrazzmatazz Follow

He lives with us now

🎨 asprinkleofrazzmatazz Follow

He gives warm fuzzy hugs

481 notes

🌽 sherlock_corn Follow

Guess who got fired again

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Me

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

The kitchen is burning 

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Send help

🎨 asprinkleofrazzmatazz Follow

The what is burning??!?!!

#you are banned #you hear me #banned #square up blue

60 notes

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

DNI if you are a beach ball. This is a beach ball free zone. Any beach balls will be blocked on sight 

#not science posting #I may be hilarious but I am not joking

134 notes

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

The second I get my hands on uranium it’s over for everyone

🌽 sherlock_corn Follow

That’s the third time you’ve posted this this week. 

It’s Tuesday 

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

And it’s true. 

🥊 red_hotsoup Follow

This is meant to convince us to let you have uranium how?

97 notes

📋klipt Follow

Wouldn’t it be sick if New York had its own real life super heroes? 

#I used to love reading Silver Sentry comics as a kid #please please tell me those lights are superheroes 

688 notes

🌰that-old-chestnut Follow

Since everyone is discussing superheroes lately, why don’t we bring this old gem back? Reblog this with your chosen superpower. Then someone else will reblog that with a terrible side effect

👑titanity Follow

I can teleport!

🍗are-you-chicken Follow

You have no control over where you’ll end up. Want to visit the Bahamas? Too bad, you’re in some back alley in New Jersey. Have fun

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

#blue

9,763 notes

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Nooooo. My Duolingo streak

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

It’s over. It’s all over. The end of the world you could say

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Ah. Sorry.

10 notes

🎨 asprinkleofrazzmatazz Follow

Making a cat sculpture out of ice cream is fun in theory 

#my hands are cold cold cold #very bad idea #but if she’s not cold she will melt

207 notes

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Thought I saw my sleep paralysis demon. Turns out it was purple trying to steal my blood.

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

On second thought, yeah. That’s my sleep paralysis demon.

341 notes

cheesecrust said: is @ bluejitsu really your brother?

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

Who?

#purplebox #though this is none of your concern

85 notes

🛸 atomiclass9000 Follow

New York, what a town.

1,250 notes

[cabinseventheaterchick]

BLOG NEWS: Check back later!

I now run a Riordanverse roleplay Tumblr Community! Everyone is welcome!

Kat if she had a Wikipedia page (her lore summarized)

Portrait done by the incredibly talented @apollos-coolest-child

Oh, hi! Didn’t see you see there. I’m Kat Carter!

Okay, lemme think… I’m fifteen, daughter of Apollo currently at Camp Half-Blood with my homies <3

When I’m not at camp, NYC is my home base. You can probably find me in Apollo cabin: practicing monologues/songs, playing matchmaker (it’s not just for Aphrodite kids!), or staging a kitchen coup d’état so I can bake something delicious.

he gets his own category:

@ellis--wakefield — my boyfriend <333

he’s really cute and he’s great at capture the flag and he’s nice to the newbies and damn he’s just idk how to even describe him ‘cause words cannot

Former… um… let’s just say people I used to know:

@lukemessedup — Good boss, bad business

@lieutenant-of-kronos — I regret letting him convince me to join up but he’s a nice guy.

@alabaster-c-t — Yep. You read that right. Bro is apparently not dead, nor has ever been.

@the-song-of-the-moon — We’re starting an ex-Titan Army therapy group together :3

Uncle Kronos (links to the Wayback Machine of the first version) — Literally cannot believe I wrote this. Uncle Kronos was a good person. I think I’ll always miss him, but I’m glad he found peace. Here’s to you, Uncle K.

@existence-is-pain-ahhhhhhhh — need I say more? He’s awesome. Case closed.

@the-better-castellan — new addition to the List Of People Who Aren’t Dead After All! They’re cool trust me

@peyton-is-cool — I missed him loads. Thank the gods he’s safe—he’s been in Texas? I guess?

Totally irresponsible pseudo-father to half of CHB (he does actually care about campers but he’s got a reputation to uphold):

@dionysus-god-of-all-things-wine

My fellow campers, love y’all:

@thanatoss-favorite-demigod — best murder road trip buddy a gal could ask for

@thehadescabincounsler — I’ve adopted them into Apollo cabin. They’re now officially an honorary child of the Sun Dude.

@thatonebitheaterkid — my sibling. too many pets (affectionate)

@that-dam-daughter-of-poseidon — my absolute bestie <3

@poseidons-favourite-daughter — training together ⚔️! She’s so sweet and a year rounder so I won’t be alone come fall

@yes-im-a-daughter-of-hades — she just got back from Tartarus, so you know what that means!… binge watching everything pop culture. Phineas and Ferb say what?

@lady-ariadne-of-milan — my coolest big sister. Be nice, she’s been trapped as a flower since, like, the Renaissance.

@bill-son-of-boreas — Ayyy! My Norwegian bestie!

@internal-bloodshed — I’m like ninety percent sure he wants me dead. If I step a toe out of line and hurt Ellis, my body will apparently never be found.

@the-better-stoll-brother — If anyone messes with him one more time I’m throwing hands.

Shoot me an ask, camp can get kinda boring!

(Psst. My general tag is #kat carter on the case, and my lore tag is #from the archives of kat carter)

(Extra psst. Do you want more Kat Carter content without actually having to roleplay? Send me an ask by picking something from my tag #ask game!)

[monamipencil]

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ my 2024 tumblr wrapped !

i was tagged by @hannieween in her post. this is such a good idea and thanks for tagging me v!

this was one hell of a year lol. and i've also written a lot this year though i lost some passion along the way. but i'm thankful for everyone who reads my work and leaves their thoughts or even just reblogs them. tysm!!

★ most popular and longest fic !

⟢ debauched — 2,472 notes and 4.5k+ words; ofc, it's the step bro fic. as the title suggests, it is absolute debauchery.

★ personal favorite !

⟢ venus in furs — honestly, one of my best works (tho it's pwp), and she deserved better 😔

★ first fic !

⟢ pussy drunk! wonwoo — it's from my prev blog! and also one of my most popular works lol.

★ last fic !

⟢ by his side — this jeonghan drabble i wrote for the secret santa event!

★ best reads !

in front of me — one, two by @wonustars

i fear i'll never read a better wonwoo fic than this. genuinely one of the best fics on this website and it's written by my lovely gf. pls check out her works!!

calendar killer by @miabebe

i love me a good thriller fic. and with joshua? fuck yes. when i tell you, i did not expect that ending at all. it will forever live in my heart. check out this banger by mia for a spooky read!

the curse by @hannieween

nothing more exciting than demon hunter jeonghan and a forbidden love trope. the angst hits in this one and i genuinely love it with all my heart. v also has other amazing works!!

liar, liar ! — one, two by @sanakiras

yes, i know. i read too many thriller fics. but this mingyu fic had me in such a chokehold. i did not expect this ending either and god do i love it so much. check out her works!

getting even by @gyuhao5

this was the catalyst for my seungkwan spiral and the bane of my existence. there are simply not enough seungkwan fics on here and mar rly satiated my need for this man. check it out!

pomegranates by @idyllic-ghost

where do i even begin? man, oh man, i love angst fics and for wonwoo? yes please. the forbidden love element was so good too and i loved the metaphors. this fic is for you if you like wonwoo and historical au.

troublemaker by @whipped-for-kpop-fics

i love gang aus with seungcheol. just 15k of goodness here. i have memorised this fic to the point, i can randomly quote anywhere, everywhere. and i have never laughed so much while reading a fic. chee is one of a kind truly.

heartbreak hotel by @saythenametotheworld

this broke my fucking heart. i read the first three installments and they were so fucking good. the characters had actual depth and were beautifully crafted. i love this so much, check it out!

camp seventeen by @miabebe

my most fav series on this platform. another fic i will quote randomly bcuz it was that good. it's ot13? and the first chapter is named dildo of dionysus? you got me sold. mia is an absolute genius and also evil for this. check out her works if you like greek mythology!

bend and break by @whipped-for-kpop-fics

i apologise for the tags chee but how can i miss out the seungcheol fic. man, sub seungcheol really does it for me. and i just loved their rivalry at the beginning. and i also love chee 😌

lowlifes by @milfgyuu

yes, i love seungcheol gang aus. thanks for asking. this was a banger and my god, the way i blushed and giggled while reading this story. i absolutely loved it!

dark @whipped-for-kpop-fics

i am so sorry for the tags, i just love you ok? now back to chee love train. this fic shocked me in such a way that i couldn't stop thinking about it. this was absolutely genius and i love monster fics. when i tell you, chee is one of the best writers in caratblr.

withering for you by @joonsytip

the bane of my existence. i started annotating because of this fic. enemies to lovers with cheol is my fav. and the way i randomly remember "welcome to hell, my wife" and start giggling is out of my control. sam should do control damage for this fic.

couple's therapy by @muntitled

this got me tweaking and twirling my hair. im a whore for lee jihoon through and through. mean dom! jihoon will be death of me. i read it on my prev blog and haven't stopped thinking about this since.

summary !

my most recurring members were — seungcheol (13 works), mingyu (13 works) and wonwoo (11 works) !

total works posted — 78 !

total words written — 82,476 !

i'm honestly surprised by this lol. and ofc, i wrote the most for these three. and im rly excited to post just as much next year and compare my progress! and we'll be starting off strong next year with when strawberries bloom. i hope you guys look forward to it! again, i'd like to thank everyone who has supported me throughout this year. i love you all <33

tags !

@vitaminkyeom @miabebe @wonustars @tomodachiii @shinysobi

@whipped-for-kpop-fics (im so sorry for the multiple tags hdbcfkharbik) @cxffecoupx @c-oupsie

[crazylittlejester]

Headcanon time! (*crowd cheers as confetti blasters go off*)

Time and Warriors have a very close bond because of the whole War of Eras thing. This means that it's usually Time who comforts Wars when he has a breakdown (also because Wars always tries to be the Older Brother in front of the Chain and therefore doesn't allow himself to be too vulnerable)

HOWEVER sometimes Wars simply can't stand human contact at all because of his past trauma. Twilight stumbles upon this fact fairly early into LU and suddenly Wolfie begins "randomly" showing up whenever Wars needs an emotional support animal to cuddle with.

Wars is very startled to learn Wolfie=Twilight and they have a little talk about it after the Wolfie reveal. But ultimately it only makes their friendship stronger :)

(That fic prompt is on my list haha)

Also, I think it would be really interesting if Twilight was unconscious or something while Wars had a breakdown. Then Legend could grab the crystal and turn into a bunny and comfort Wars while Two is unable to

(Probably also gonna write a fic about that, I have way too many prompts like always)

Anyway this turned into a pretty long ask, sorry abt that. I've been following your blog for a while now and have actually sent a few anon asks before (mostly abt how much I love your works on AO3, they're amazing /gen), but I'm trying to start interacting more with people in the fandom, so this probably won't be the last you hear of me (hope that's okay)

Either way you're super cool and I hope you're doing well! /gen

YES YES YES I SO AGREE. I’m actually working on a scene in a fic right now where Wolfie is the only one who can really get physically close to Wars because he’s ‘not a person’ (like, yes he is a person, he’s Twi, but he’s not person shaped and he’s soft n fluffy and doesn’t feel like a person (in the physical sense), and that’s what matters in the moment alsfjdjgfd). Plus Wolfie cuddles are probably life changing, like a big floofy warm dog that WANTS to cuddle with you because he actually understands your complex emotions and recognizes how you need help? Probably better than therapy /j

I love the idea that bunny Legend would go comfort Wars oh my god! I now have this mental image of Wars just crying and then just being absolutely shocked speechless by bright pink bunny Legend opening his mouth and sayin’ something like “one comment about the color or the vest and i kick you in your face and leave”

DON’T APOLOGIZE I LOVE TO GET YAPS IN MY INBOX I DONT CARE HOW LONG THEY ARE /SRS. i’m tryin to get better about interacting with people too 😔 I LOOK FORWARD TO SEEIN’ YOU IN MY INBOX AGAIN >:)

also i’m glad you like my silly stories alkhgdjgfd :) REMEMBER TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF AND GET SOME WATER 🫶

[alevolpe]

Could I bother you to do a dump of your thoughts on everyone's favorite undercooked and over-punctured hero, Chiba Mamoru?

Hmm, thoughts, i have a lot of thoughts about Mamo, but at the same time, not as many as others would think.

I like him, i think most people who follow my blog know this. He’s a very nice addition to the cast despite his many.. problems.

I’ll first address the elephant in the room.. he should not be a part of the main cast fighting along the girls.

Sorry, I know some people love that for him, but for me it just doesn’t work and he doesn’t organically fit in the story after season 1. He’s basically stringed along to be just the damsel in destress to motivate Usagi in most cases and that’s not compelling for me or is a good turn for his character.(there’s nothing there, there’s no character for me to care about. Just pretty guy looks pretty, wow, I’m compelled)

He should’ve been mostly done after season 1. After that he should’ve been a supporting character helping Usagi as a regular guy trying to go back to his regular life while being a loving and supportive boyfriend to Usagi. (It’s also such a missed opportunity with this dynamic that you NEVER see. A female superhero and his bf being the normal guy trying his best to keep up with wtf is going on with his gf and magic beings while also studying for his diploma, living the life of a regular guy trying to make it through school and his job and trying his best to also be a nice and helpful person to his gf’s team/best friends. Most of whom don’t have the highest opinion of him lol).

It’s genuinely what he deserves, he doesn’t need to be stringed along this journey as a puppy for Usagi to be chase after. LET THE MAN GET HIS HUMAN LIFE BACK TOGETHER!! (And maybe some therapy) His whole existence is not just Usagi/moon romance/future bullshit, he’s his own person ffs.

Sigh.. ok with that out the way I’ve already talked about my problems with the “miracle romance” here (tldr, I wanna keep it I like it, just workshopping needed).

Now, is there a way I could possibly organically integrate him into the story as an equal and distinct identity to Usagi.. yes.. do I want to? Not really.

In short I don’t really have a ton of interest in exploring that outside of the first season. That’s where his character gets introduced, where he has the most connections, with Serenity and with the 4 kings and Beryl, that’s where his character peaks and where he deserves to have his “happy ending”. My story is mostly centered around the bond around the girls and the world around them, not romance (even tho there are moments of it, yes, it’s not mainly a romance unlike the manga). Also trying to fit him without having the girls take an active step back is really difficult and has never been executed right.

In the manga him and Usagi are the main characters and in the anime everyone is written to be useless til he shows up. You basically have to scale down everyone else for him to shine and I don’t vibe with that.

Also also, in my version he has no Crystal. People have no Crystals, just the senshi. having a Crystal in you is a strictly senshi thing, him having one never made sense to me (if you like it, good for u, I don’t care for it, idc if it’s explained in canon). So he’s just a regular guy, he’s a smart reincarnated regular guy who committed a bunch of heists and some breaking and entering, but like.. tf he gonna do against a senshi.

TLDR: I like Mamo. Mamo is good, good character, but scale him down to supporting cast and make him a more supportive boyfriend to Usagi and honestly give him more of his own person outside of his reincarnation or future self.

ALSO SMALL THING BUT actually have him interact with the girls in some way, with different and fun levels of chemistry. Like him being awkward cause he knows both him and them want the best for Usagi, but like Rei.. is Rei, Mako’s pissed at him for being a dirty thief, Mina just fucks with him 24/7 and Ami, idk I guess Ami does kind of vibe with him, but like, they are both awkward nerds. I wanna see that!

[girlslovegreentea]

Venlafaxine, 75 mg

something that devastates me every now and again is that I will never be normal. i have been medicated since I was young and I will never be able to live without artificial serotonin.

female hysteria as a trend truly disappoints me at times, because some of these people just don't understand. yes, Angelina Jolie did fabulous in Girl, Interrupted, but that is a real-life experience that Susanna Kaysen lived through- treatment like that is traumatizing and anything but glamorous.

I don't know. To an extent, I'm part of the problem because I play into it, but again, these characters that I relate to and this almost.. aesthetic is a retelling of my life in a way. It's odd how you could never tell from the outside just how troublesome my introspection and the inner workings of my mind are. When I see images of me as a baby, I look so happy and pure and innocent, I want nothing more than to weep for my parents.

My birthday was on thursday. I turned 19. I hate my birthday and don't really celebrate it, but I'm pleased that I finally get to relate to Perfect Places by Lorde. I love her- I've always loved Lorde. I remember when all of her albums came out and where I was- I remember before Pure Heroine and I stumbled across The Love Club on Youtube I think. Life changing.

It was kind of sad, I got a migraine, and I go to college across the country so I didn't get to see my family or anything. My friend took me to get smoothie bowls which was scary but I had to act nonchalant. My boyfriend got me a thoughtful gift that I love, but for dinner that night, his friends came up and I paid for them and everything which makes me sad- I feel like it's just common sense not to let someone pay for stuff on their birthday. I don't know, money is awkward and we're all students BUT in my defense, they all have jobs and actually live here whereas I don't. I haven't had a birthday cake in years, but I had half of a birthday cake quest bar (which is my favorite flavor) before I threw up and lost my vision from my migraine. My best friend at home is livid that I didn't really do anything.

Blogging being a dead art is really my favorite thing. Sure, I journal, I go to therapy, I have friends, but there's nothing like turning my thoughts into art in a way. I like choosing the format and what images I'm going to pair with my posts. I rarely get any interaction, but the sheer thought that my feelings are floating on the internet forever is intriguing enough to keep coming back.

[crepesuzette2023]

Hi, lovely Crepesuzette! Thanks a lot of your inspiring blog, your fics and always helpfull #fic recs! And can I ask any recs for good fics where John in the end understend the shit he did for Paul? All of this HDYS, Melody Maker, Rolling Stone etc, which not only hurted Paul but they ruined his self-esteem and creative reputation, you know. Thanks again! Love you and want you be happy everyday like you do it for me :)

Hello there, thank you for the ask—and for your kind words. Very welcome, esp. since real life has been low grade shit these past few days.

So...your ask make me think of stories where things are not only better than they were in this (clears throat) reality as we know it: there's also a focus on mutual understanding, peace-making, forgiveness. Yes?

These came to my mind...and making this list made me realize I'm really in the mood to re-read some of them! In the 70's:

stuck inside these four walls (@monkberries). Lost Weekend. John and Paul get locked up until they resolve their shit.

i can only speak my mind (@revollver). 70's. Paul reads John's 'secret' diaries that have been leaked to the press, and understands him—and himself—better.

forth and back (@monkberries). 70's—80's. Paul and John talk through songs.

A Toot and a Snore (@glowing-gold). Lost Weekend in LA. That jam session is on the page in real time, as is their slow and hot reconciliation. Will never forget the description of moustache-Paul and his nipples, *fans self*

They Say it's Your Birthday (@ohjohnnysblog). 1979. A personal favorite. Warm, nostalgic phone sex in the spirit of peace and friendship.

Down on the Farm (RosalindBeatrice), 1974. John is exposed to Wings, Paul's family, and Paul's hotness, and realizes it's all meant to lure him back...

You Will, You Will, You Will (@eveepe). John and Paul and Linda take the plunge. Excellent tension...over the phone and in person.

February in New Orleans (@eveepe). 1975. John and May visit Paul and Linda in New Orleans. Resentment is desire's favorite costume. Everyone has a good time, 2/4 have a hard-on (I am sorry).

Adventures in Total Honesty (@merseydreams). 1975. Paul and John meet backstage, and have it out. A+ banter, and so many things I wish Paul had said. Also: sex.

The lights go down (they're back in town) (@backbenttulips). 1977. Paul and John are trapped in an elevator at the Dakota. The power goes out. John comes back to live.

Something Borrowed Something New (@inspiteallthedanger). 1979. The former Beatles meet at Pattie & Eric's wedding. Paul and John face some truths.

six hours in august (@stonedlennon). 1979. A chance meeting in NYC. The love is still there.

I Still Miss Someone/ I Know That I Miss you, but I Don't Know Where I Stand/ Close the Door Lightly When You Go (RosalindBeatrice). 1976-1979. Paul and John become lovers, but their lives have changed. John feels guilty about the past, Paul has a family...Mutual empathy is needed, and accordingly grows. But it doesn't come easy.

1980 and Onwards:

The Birthday Party (@merseydreams). John and Paul meet at Ringo's Birthday Party. Paul has had therapy, and John wears denim shorts. There is only one bed.

Free Man in Paris (@backbenttulips). John and Paul get married in Paris in '61, and get a divorce seven years later. But it's not the end.

Memory Lane (@ohjohnnysblog). Old, married John and Paul leaf through a photo album and reminisce about the past, including past lovers.

and when broken bodies are washed ashore (who am i to ask for more) (wardo_wedidit): John and Paul. Now and Then.

Bermuda (@scurator): John and Paul are grown-ups and know what they want (each other, to start with).

Take A Sad Song and Make it Better (@javelinbk). 1980. John visits Paul in 1980, and they revisit the past, including their love. But their families don't magically disappear. Also by @javelinbk: Our Version of Events (Part 1, Part 2 (in progress)). 1971. Reading fan fiction helps John and Paul realize what's happening, and what's been happening in the past.

Going Nowhere (@inspiteallthedanger). 1980; John survives the shooting and returns to England. I think of this one as 'they talk about it' fic.

Comprehensive Fix-Its:

The Contract (JP). The story of John and Paul, with a happier (though bizarre) ending, and a lot of sex (good).

i was a younger man then (now) (post hoc) (@fingersfallingupwards). The story of John and Paul à la The Time Traveller's Wife. It takes them a long time—but in the end they do understand and forgive each other.

[writingseaslugs]

i'm the anon that's been sending those long domestic drabbles of the fish-y mafia, can I be the "chatter box anon" ? a prime nickname for all of them would be "Cuddle fish" Azul likes bodily contact, he had 8 extra limbs, not counting arms, to work with previously, and frankly, he might lose his mind if he can only use 2 to hold his S/O ever; slip him into water and let him hold you like a teddy bear, he might cry on stress if you don't- his tentacles like to just.. curl around your legs and waist, it's just their resting state, it's almost like holding hands except Azul is a whole lot clingier than even a typical octopus; feign ignorance and let him snuggle. Being held gently by 10 limbs is the new therapy babes, Floyd's squeezes are actually a whole less painful than one would think, why? Because you hug him back, happily!- He becomes hyper-aware of how frail his shrimpy is when you attempt to squeeze him during the hug and it's such a soft thing. He still holds you off the ground when you hug, in fact, he's now your main way of transport; did you know shrimps ride moray eels? (yes, it's a reference) Yeah? Good, buckle up because you're the shrimpy and he's your captain speaking- Jade now understands the urge to squeeze things; and bite, and nuzzle, and frankly he's drunk on the physical affection. He will wake up with a lot of kisses all over his face, or wake you up with many kisses, would stand in the doorway in every single room and make you give him a kiss as a "toll" for walking around your shared living space- Jade is far more love drunk and affectionate than anyone would ever expect, but expecting him to be anything else other than that was when bets went out the door anyway; he talks about his 'siren' or 'little pearl' to his terrariums, picking up pretty shells in the deep waters (1/2)

Honestly I absolutely adore all your little headcanons and domestic fluff content. It makes my day honestly and I can totally see all of these things happen. Clingy Fish Mafia is for the win.

I'm just sayin, Chatterbox, if you ever wanted I think you should make a Twisted Blog. Your ideas are honestly amazing and I'm sure I'm not the only one who thinks like this. You seriously brighten my day with your long posts. If you ever do start the Twisted Chatterbox blog, let me know so I can follow and promote you, aight? If not, then feel free to keep coming into my inbox. I can always use some domestic fluff for the fish mafia...not to mention you seriously inspire me so much. I'm currently writing a cuddling headcanons for the fish mafia at the moment.