#i actually thought i posted those already

[sirfrogsworth]

I'm still getting comments from people saying they've never seen Mr. Rogers.

It's clear this is my mistake. I really thought I made it clear I was just using that as an example. People are exposed to miniature photography all the time. Mr. Rogers was just a very strong memory for a lot of folks and I was trying to use that to gain interest. But after so many comments of that nature it seems I failed to convey that.

People also question the psychological aspect. I was really hoping to do an in depth explaination of the psychology of perception as an addition to this post. But shortly after I started feeling horrible and I never got around to it.

But there is one fun fact I found that I was really excited to share.

It is theorized that up to 90% of our visual perception is created by our brain based on past experiences.

Up to 90% of what you are currently looking at is your brain using old information to help you make sense of the immense visual input.

It is constantly making shit up and it makes me wonder if ghosts and UFOs and strange phenomenon are often caused by this.

You can look up Richard Gregory's "visual assumption theory" if you want to go down a rabbit hole.

There is also top-down vs bottom-up processing which is really fascinating too.

Top-down is stuff you've already experienced. It helps you read faster. You can see words instead of individual letters. Y_u ca_ ev_n re_d when letters are missing. Sometimes you will not notice misstakes or or duplicate words. Your brain can actually correct them as you read if you are not actively searching for them.

Bottom-up processing is new stimuli. Your brain has to figure out what it is looking at from scratch. I remember just a few weeks ago I saw a photo showing a perspective I have never encountered before.

At first, my brain literally didn't know what I was looking at.

I was confused and disturbed and I was just trying to interpret all the shapes and features to parse what I was seeing. And finally my brain noticed the hooves and teeth and then magically I saw a horse. And now when I look at the photo I can't not see a horse.

Basically everything we've experienced (or not experienced) influences our present perception. There is too much stimuli in the world for our brains to compute so it fills in a lot of blanks as we go.

People wondered if you hadn't seen Mr. Rogers (or the countless other examples of miniatures), would you still see tilt-shit photos as a miniature. And I'm not really sure. That would be difficult to prove. Once you've seen a stop motion movie or a toy advertisement, your brain already has stimuli to work from. It's going to use it if it has it in the data banks.

I think it would be a matter of intensity. I noticed that some folks mentioned certain tilt-shift photos did not give them a strong feeling of being miniature. Whereas I had a very strong sense of that for every photo. Probably because I have studied this a great deal and have absorbed countless examples.

So I would say you *might* still get a sense things are miniature without any previous experiences. There are other factors in tilt-shift photos that contribute to the effect. But once you have those experiences, they are going to inform and intensify your perception from then on.

The short answer is... a tilt-shift lens.

The slightly more complicated answer is... Mister Rogers.

Depth of field is the area in front and behind your chosen focus point that remains in focus and then slowly gets blurry as you get farther away.

Shallow depth of field only has a narrow slice of the image in focus and gets blurry super quick. This is caused by a large lens aperture and being close to the subject.

Deep depth of field can extend through the entire picture if your aperture is small and you are super far away.

Usually the depth of field lines up with the image sensor of your camera. So if it is tilted forward, the plane of focus matches.

The stuff outside the green area would be blurry. The edges of the green would be slightly blurry. And the dashed green line would be the sharpest area of the photo.

But the tilt-shift lens allows you to create chaos with your plane of focus. In most cases, you would use this to flatten the depth of field so you can get a 2D plane entirely in focus.

If you were to use a normal lens, the bottom left and top right would be blurry.

But with a tilt-shift lens you can do this.

The green area is taking a little nap on the floor.

However, there is an unintended side effect created by this lens. (The "Scheimpflug intersection" if you want to go down the rabbit hole.) You can choose absolutely wacky planes of focus that create a very narrow depth of field over a geographically large area.

Believe it or not, this is when psychology comes into play.

And possibly Mister Rogers.

Our only reference for such a large area having a shallow depth of field is our memories of miniatures on TV. So Mister Rogers and Thomas the Tank Engine trained our brains to see this effect as... small.

Depth of field shrinks the closer you are to something. And when filming miniatures, you are placing the lens close to the scene. But the scene represents something big in our minds. We buy the effect, but not 100%. That blurriness wouldn't be there at a regular scale. So our subconscious remembers we are watching small things pretending to be big. It just files that away in the back of our mind.

And then when we see something like this...

Our brain is all, "Look at all that tiny shit!"

Without Mister Rogers, our brains may have never made these connections and tilt-shift photography may just make us wonder why everything is all blurry. That connection to past experience is vital for this effect to be convincing.

Brains are neat.

[gaybd1]

I would love to hear more about chinglish 👀

Yes I love it and find myself speaking it quite often but of course, because im supposed to teach in “proper English” at my job, it’s discouraged. Which. I kind of get but ugh.

Anyway here are some examples of Taiwanese Chinglish stuff I’d hear (or even say tbh) on a daily basis:

“Because yesterday is my piano recital, so I didn’t do my homework.” <- leaving off past tense of verbs and using conjunctions in ways that reflect how they are used in Mandarin

Similarly you’d often get something like “When I am little, I go to Japan.” <- lack of verb tense in Chinese means it’s easy for the listener to just know this is talking about the past without conjugating it that way

“He” and “she” are represented by different characters in Chinese but they are pronounced the same. Same with “his” and “her” so you get a lot of, “My mom will be so angry if you tell him that”

Articles aren’t really a thing in Chinese either so lower-level English speakers will use ‘the’ in places it wouldn’t be in other variants and also omit it randomly. Like when asked what they like to eat, maybe they’d say “I like the banana.”

In Mandarin, plural indicators are not always used, so even a more advanced speaker saying they like to eat bananas in general may still say “I like banana,” following that same example.

-s is also frequently omitted at the end of third-person verbs. For example, “My brother go to school in Japan.”

Many verbs in Chinese have multiple English meanings which can lead to sentences like:

“I know!” in response to an explanation that a speaker of another English variant would say “I see” for. (coming from 知道, to know / to realize)

“Do today have a quiz?” for “Is there a quiz today?” (coming from 有, to have / to exist)

“Can you say Chinese?” for “Do you speak Chinese?” (coming from 說, to speak / to say)

“Close the AC! I’m cold!” (coming from 關, to close / to turn off)

“I can’t see! Open the light!” (coming from 開, to open / to turn on)

“Yesterday I look TV” , “I like to see book” (coming from 看, to look / to see / to watch / to read)

Also modal particles like 啊,啦,吧 can be included at the end of a sentence that is otherwise in English, particularly la/啦 to express emphasis or commonly some sort of frustration. Similar to Singlish I guess:

“Stop hitting me la!”

“I already gave it to you la.”

“Yes it is ah!”

Lastly obviously there are always going to be loanwords or concepts like that:

I’ve posted about this before but familial words are quite common in Chinese. An auntie or an ayi is an older lady or perhaps some sort of domestic helper or nanny or something. An uncle is the same for men. (Sometimes younger people can be referred to as sisters or brothers but it’s less common in English. An old old lady will probably be called an ama)

Food words. Some food words just shouldn’t be translated. And people will try but it’s just. Dumb. Douhua will always be douhua, I don’t even know what it would be in English

Place names don’t usually have English translations but predictably even the ones that do might still be in Chinese when speaking English. Using “yushan” when talking about Jade Mountain for example

Swear words obviously. A lot of those are actually Taiwanese words people use in Mandarin that have now come over to English

I can’t think of any other specific vocabulary for Chinglish but just. Cultural stuff, you know. Like a lucky charm, it’s always going to be a pinganfu to me.

Anyway la, im sure there’s much more but it’s nice to get all this stuff down in one place. The point of English variants is that their features are common and intelligible, abd while there’s a huge push to teach “”proper English”” around here, I think people should be a little more lenient and understanding of local features and not be embarrassed to use them.

Taiwan is set to be the world’s first bilingual English-speaking country by its own free will by 2030 (I have thoughts on that lol but that’s in another post somewhere) so this is all fascinating stuff

[anyplaceisparadise]

So there's been a whole discussion about humiliation and how Geta repeatedly gets embarrassed and disrespected throughout the film and I wanted to add one more moment that I noticed in the party at Thraex's scene.

Macrinus refers to Geta individually as 'your majesty' at Thraex's party, right after Geta has gotten up with everyone's eyes on him, to speak to Lucius. Lucius doesn't answer him, so Macrinus steps in and says that Lucius is from the colonies and his native language is all he knows, "your majesty". (Or whatever the exact words are, you know the line)

He then refers to both Geta and Caracalla as "your majesties" as a set just a short while later in the same scene. We already knew how embarrassing that moment was for Geta but Macrinus was really driving the knife in by referring to them as "your majesty/majesties" because as Mary Beard writes in SPQR:

"For the rest of Roman history, 'king', or rex, was a term of loathing in Roman politics, despite the fact that so many of Rome's defining institutions were supposed to have their origins in the regal period. There were any number of cases in the centuries that followed when the accusation that he was aiming for kingship brought a swift end to a man's political career." (pg. 125)

And then, from Mary Beard's Emperor of Rome:

'King' (or rex), however, was a more complicated matter. In the eastern half of the empire, where far more people spoke Greek than Latin, emperors were regularly called 'kings'. [...] But that was rarely the case at home, where Romans still prided themselves on having got rid of the last of their legendary early kings centuries before.

[...] From the beginning, most emperors were very keen to stress to their local audience that, whatever else they were, they were not kings." (pg. 38-39).

Contrast that with how they are addressed by their own gladiator in the first round of games. He yells "hail Caesars!", which is part of their actual titles:

Geta: Imperator Caesar Publius Septimius Geta Augustus

Caracalla: Imperator Caesar Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Augustus

And from Mary Beard again:

"Future Roman emperors included both 'Caesar' and 'Augustus' among their titles." (Emperor of Rome, pg. 38).

She also writes about how an emperor is addressed through a speech delivered by Pliny the Younger to the emperor Trajan:

"And that is exactly how Pliny addressed the emperor through most of his vote of thanks: not 'Trajan' but 'Caesar' (which he used more than fifty times, compared with 'Trajan' just once). (pg. 34).

So when Macrinus is speaking to Geta as an individual and the twins as a set, he's disrespecting them by using 'your majesty', which is used to address a monarch, and Geta and Caracalla are decidedly not monarchs (imo Geta feels this more strongly than Cara about this but those are thoughts for another post).

Now, I don't think any of us is going to argue that these films are historically accurate because they're obviously not and maybe the use of 'your majesty' was entirely trivial. Maybe it was used by Macrinus because of where his character (yes I know he is a real person, they all are, but again, liberties were taken here) is supposed to be from, but I also think Macrinus is savvy enough to know what to call the emperors, especially when he is speaking to them directly in a room full of people.

tl;dr: Macrinus is cheeky and rude and Geta can't catch a break.

[mindless-existence1]

Mha Valentines

Bakugo, Izuku, Denki, and Tokoyami x reader headcannons/mini fics for Valentines day!

(Sorry this is a bit late right before I posted this it got deleted so I had to re write the whole thing whoops)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

♡Bakugo♡

~For past relationships (if he was in anyone but that's a topic for another day) he wouldn't make a big fuss about valentines day.

~He doesn't hate valentines days he just...hates valentines day.

~That being said I think he just never got the appeal before he got in a serious relationship with you

~All the sudden he sees a stuffed animal that reminds him of you and he cant just leave the store without it. So he goes up to the counter and awkwardly buys the plushie.

~After buying that for you, and keeping it hidden from you, about a week before valentines day he finds your favorite candy that normally is out of stock.

~So yeah sue him when he buys it for you. You'd get fussy if he didn't.

~But all the sudden he has a lot of gifts for you without even trying. So in the privateness of his dorm he gets out the multitude of gifts and your left stunned. Because just a week before Bakugo had made it clear he wasn't doing anything for valentines day.

~Before you can even say anything he blurts out "Jist shut up and accept it dumbass. And don't go run your mouth about it I don't want anyone thinking I'm getting soft."

~Despite his tough guy act yiu don't miss the brightness of his ears.

♡Izuku♡

~Of course the idea, the concept, of Valentines day was amazing to him. But actually execution was terrible for him.

~What was he supposed to do! Make a grand display? Huge fireworks and a large bouquet??

~OK yeah absolutely not he couldn't do that. But something small he could do. Like a dinner or a peice of jewelry.

~He'd spend a long time writing in his notebook the perfect way to ask you out and anything and everything that could go 'wrong'

~Acting like you aren't already together and he hasn't asked you out before and it's worked.

~Day of Valentines, good old February 14 rolls around and with his amazing luck almost everything goes wrong. The store he had a reservation over booked and the delivery service lost your jewelry in the mail.

~Luckily for him you rescue him from his sulking with the suggestion of a picnic. During said picnic the two of you make eachother flower crowns and all he can think is 'this is the most perfect day ever, what did I do to deserve this?'

♡Denki♡

~Very firm believer he loves being over the top.

~Firm believer that he's a form believer no matter how long you've been together you need to re ask to be your partners valentines every year. (Just to make sure of course)

~So he plans and plans and it's really the only thing he's ever truly thought out.

~Learns your favorite flowers (if he didn't already know), makes a big sign with some sort of electricity pun to ask you to be his valentines.

~Forces Gets Sero, Kirishima, and Mina (bakugo would refuse) to keep you out of your dorm so he can prepare it for you and when you finally see all he set up its perfect every year

~One of those guys who gets like a gigantic bouquet just because

~Honestly just he's the opposite of nonchalant, he's a chalant king

~He set up a dinner date and a night in the dorm lego date or smth cute like that, just for the two of u.

♡Tokoyami♡

~This beautiful man doesn't really know what to do.

~To him Valentines day is so funky

~In my mind he's a gift giver and has a love langue of acts of service and quality time man so when valentines comes around he's like....this is what I do all the time?

~Buuuuuuutttttt he'd write a poem for you. I've said before he likes writing stuff about you but this time he actually give it to you

~He writes it all fancy and on some nice paper and gets all flustered when he hands it to you.

~The amount of love he puts into that note nearly bring you to tears.

~Jewelry. He's a bird obviously he likes jewelry. No fr he'd take you to a bead store and you guys get the colors of eachothers eyes.

~So you can go home with your favorite snacks and make bracelets for each other. Yours with a F and his with the first letter of your name.

~OK so dark Shadow might get a little in the way of the date but it's kinda just like if you had your little siblings tag along or smth

[waynes-multiverse]

Alex, this was amazing!! I absolutely loved this! I think I laughed throughout without pausing. Like, I was cackling vividly 😂😂

Dean:

He’s not sick. Because he doesn’t get sick. Dean claims he has the constitution of a horse, but you still take the beer out of his hand before he can take a sip at 10:00 a.m.

That already took me out. First two lines. Bravo. You've done it 🤣

I'm guessing this is post Chuck lmao

“I’m find,” he insists, even as he begrudgingly accepts the gentle pressure of your hand on his back and shoulder, pushing him down to the bed.

You know why I picked it 😝 (👏👏👏) And not the flannel and the runny nose, yikes. Loved this exchange (and callback) lol

He knows that you care about him. That you love him. But this is one of those moments where it hits him, just how much.

Took a brief second from laughing, so I could push tears out of my eyes 😭

But absolutely agree, you'd have to wear Dean down and force him into it lmao

Beau:

His coughing sneeze makes you grimace. You didn’t even know someone could sneeze and cough at the same time.

Back to laughing. My God, that was the sneeze of the century 😂😂

“Nah, can’t be sick. Gotta lot of work to do today,” he says.

Mutually exclusive, obviously 🤷‍♀️

“How long until I’m allowed out, warden?” he asks.

Seems like the man flu hasn't swallowed the charm either 🥰

He stops you by grabbing your wrist. “Hey, uh…can I have some chicken noodle soup later?” “Of course, baby. I’ll swing by the store now and get some stuff for you.” “And some saltines?”

And that's the moment I realized Beau's like my husband when he's sick 😂 (🙄)

It's like you were in my house and wrote a transcript of the last man flu epidemic of 2024 😆🤌

(PS: Real proud for finding that gif 😂)

A good add-on for Beau would be talking about his symptoms and aches... constantly loll. ("Babe, my throat is still dry and very weird right here. I googled and it says it could be laryngitis, cancer or the Marburg virus." 😂)

Ben:

Oh and then, Ben. Ben, Ben, Ben, Ben... I thought for sure he'd be the worst, like this virus is a personal attack on his virility 🤣 But I was pleasantly surprised when you brought in memories of his mother 🥹😭

“Fuck,” he groans, dragging a hand over his face before he turns onto his back.

That immediate fuck got me so hard 🤣🤣

He’s a sourpatch grumbly patient who only begrudgingly stays put in bed when you ask him to.

Ah, yes, gramps 😂🫶 (And he honestly shares that with a lot of old man in hospitals and nursing homes who have to be repeatedly told to stay in bed lol)

“Hey, sweetheart,” he calls to you from the bedroom, his voice croaking all the while. “I’m getting you a yacht for Valentine’s Day. You want it all white, or throw in a bit of gold? Actually, check out this one with the navy trim.”

*snorts* Of course the brat's online shopping for yachts 😆

“Why can’t you put some fucking steak in it or something?” he grouses. He tries and fails to hide another wet cough. “Why can’t you just eat what I lovingly made, just for you,” you snipped back.

Oh God, all their bickering was amazing! It's honestly always one of the most fun things when writing SB – the sheer frustration of the reader 😭😂🙈

And I loved the addition of Priestly!! 😍💚💙🤘 (I've been thinking of finally writing that one-shot for him lol)

“Aw, that’s still good,” he argues.

Great idea, man. Add a stomach bug to that man flu lmao

“Know what would really make me feel better?” he hedges. He tries to guide you down to him by tugging on your hand, but you resist him.

I could also totally see him turning into a Monica there 😂

“When you’re feeling better, you can ask me that question properly.”

Oh, oh, thank God! The relief I felt 😂 I mean, it's so, so sweet, but also you're very sick, dude, and germy... like, it's a lot 😆

(And I also sincerly hope there will be a proposal follow-up one-shot/drabble... maybe? 👀)

I loved this so much! You were spilling nothing but truths here! 😂💯🩵

HEADCANON: Man Flu

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader || Beau Arlen x Reader || Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader || Boaz Priestly x Reader

HC: When Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Boaz Priestly get sick, how would they act when you (try to) take care of them?

AN: After reading I Got You by @bettystonewell (Dean x Reader) and The Best Kind of Medicine by @lamentationsofalonelypotato (Soldier Boy x Reader), I realized that I've never actually written a sick-fic before. Here it is in headcanon form, since you guys seem to like these! lol 💜

Also adding Priestly to this lineup for the first time because some of you have been requesting more of him recently. 😉

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, hurt/comfort, sick-fic, some needy affection-starved men who don't want to admit they're needy, lots of fluff.~

Dean Winchester

He's not sick. Because he doesn't get sick.

Dean claims he has the constitution of a horse, but you still take the beer out of his hand before he can take a sip at 10:00 a.m.

He's too busy interrupting himself, namely by coughing half a lung, wheezing, blinking teary eyes -- the whole phlegmy nine yards.

Sam shakes his head, casting you a look that frankly says, Good luck.

He knows his brother is stubborn as hell, and one of the things Dean dislikes most is being fussed over for "no reason." Being seen as weak. Not being able to just shrug his shoulders and shake it off.

To be fair, Dean tries. Except this time it's accompanied by a body shiver and a reluctant sniffle. His pallid face is drawn, and his usually strong and solid frame looks unsteady as he leans a hand on the War Room table.

"Okay, come on, Rambo. Let's get you back into bed," you say, guiding your boyfriend back to the room you share with him.

"I'm find," he insists, even as he begrudgingly accepts the gentle pressure of your hand on his back and shoulder, pushing him down to the bed.

"Sure you are, baby," you say with a smirk. "You're in the primb of libe."

Dean shoots you a narrowed look. Damn you for forcing him to binge-watch all those episodes of Friends late at night when you both can't sleep.

Right now he's Monica, trying to convince you he's in tip-top shape, while you're Chandler, just trying to get him to use tissues instead of his flannel sleeve to wipe his runny nose.

After taking his boots off, you get him to change out of his jeans and back into his sweatpants. Then you manage to get him to lay down under the covers with the promise of coming back with medicine and soup.

"I don't want soup, damn it," he grumbles. You just roll your eyes and rub his arm.

"Just rest. I'll be back with the Vicks."

As you might expect, Dean is not an easy patient.

He refuses to drink tea, but he does down the pills you bring for him, with a measured toss of his head that still makes his head swim. He groans.

He swallows a couple of cautious spoonfuls of the soup, pausing when he realizes that its warmth actually feels good down his sore and scratchy throat. It tastes pretty good too, especially with the warm, buttered slices of bread on the side.

"You made this?" he asks.

"Mhmm," you nod, smiling. If nothing else, good food will pacify this man. "Chicken and wild rice, made especially for you."

"Hmm. S' good," he nods in reply. He manages to finish the bowl.

He has to admit, if just to himself, that he does feel like shit.

He won't admit that the way you're rubbing his back, the gentle pressure of your nails between his shoulders and down his spine relaxes him, makes him feel better.

He knows that you care about him. That you love him. But this is one of those moments where it hits him, just how much.

It's a little overwhelming. A heavy swell of pressure fills his chest, so he tries not to let himself think about it for very long.

(He fails.)

After he's done eating, you take the plates away and help him back into bed. You linger there, slipping your fingers through his soft brown hair and pressing a kiss to his clammy forehead.

"I really need you to rest, okay," you say quietly. "If you need anything, just text me or Sam. Don't get out of bed."

Dean grasps your hand before you can move away from him. Since you're probably going to wash your hands anyway, he lays a kiss on the back of your hand.

"Thanks, sweetheart."

Beau Arlen

Sheriff Beau Arlen is the type to run himself into the ground because he's so damn into his work.

He wants to do well in his station of responsibility, and he feels like he has to make up for his performance during the summer madness of Buck Barnes and Avery...and everything in between.

You just have to make Beau realize that he needs to slow down, before he well and truly burns himself out.

You put your foot down one morning.

He tries to get out of bed but has to pause, his head swimming. He takes a couple of steadying breaths while sitting on the edge of the bed.

You notice with a frown. "Hey, you okay?"

"Fine. Just fine," he answers a little too breathlessly. He raises a hand to his head. His throat is sticky and coarse. He wrinkles his nose when he also feels a sneeze coming on.

"Just need a...a...mugh-ah-ha-hugh."

His coughing sneeze makes you grimace. You didn't even know someone could sneeze and cough at the same time.

"Aw, babe. You're sick," you say as you move over to him, resting a hand on his back. He shakes his head and groans.

"Nah, can't be sick. Gotta lot of work to do today," he says. His voice is like gravel blended with broken glass. It would actually be sexy, if for the distinctly un-sexy way he tries to clear the great wad of phlegm from his throat.

He tries to rock himself onto his feet, but there he sways on the landing. You hurry out of bed to grab his arm and steady him.

"Oh no, you don't. Back into bed," you say.

"Aw, sweetheart. I'll be fine--"

"No. Lay down. You're not going in today," you say more firmly, all while you tuck the man back into bed with the blankets covering him.

"All right, all right. No need to be so pushy," he can't help but tease.

It earns a small smirk on your face. It seems like his man flu hasn't yet deprived him of his sense of humor.

"I thought you liked that though," you reply. You sit on the edge of the bed and rub his chest. He groans in defeat.

"Can't believe this," he grumbles. "Today of all days--"

"There's always going to be another case. This is your body telling you that you need to slow down," you tell him. "So how about this. I'm gonna call in one of my sick days, and we'll bunker in together."

You stroke his bearded cheek. He quirks a smile, grabbing your hand and squeezing warmly.

"How long until I'm allowed out, warden?" he asks.

"Until you can stand without keeling over," you dryly reply. A smile tugs at your lips. "Remind me to stop by CVS to grab you a Life Alert."

"All right, har har haugh--" His sarcasm ends on a very real, wheezing cough. Your amused smile drops. You relent from your teasing and stroke his chest once more.

"Okay, just rest. Let me get you some actual medicine and I'll be right back."

He stops you by grabbing your wrist. "Hey, uh...can I have some chicken noodle soup later?"

"Of course, baby. I'll swing by the store now and get some stuff for you."

"And some saltines?"

"Saltine crackers on the side. Got it."

You're about to head to the bathroom to brush your teeth before you start getting ready to go to the store, but once again, Beau's needy hand stops you.

"Before you go, some tea with honey and lemon would be good. Just something for my throat," he croaks.

You smile and nod. "Yeah, for sure. That'll be better for you than coffee."

"Oh, and can you gimme that quilt over there?" he asks, pointing to your favorite knitted blanket at the edge of the bed. You graciously lay it over his form and drop a kiss onto his forehead.

"And some cough drops. Thank you, darlin'," Beau adds.

Your lips begin to press together, but you nod and continue getting dressed.

You can already tell this man is going to settle into you taking care of him just fine.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Neither of you thought it was possible, considering his super genes that allowed him to eat and booze and drug harder than Andre the Giant and Keith Richards put together.

But one day, your over six-foot super soldier goes down hard. The warning signs came the night before, when you could hardly sleep with the way he was snoring like a grizzly bear.

In the morning, he wakes bleary-eyed with a runny nose and a coughing fit hard enough to shake the bed.

"Fuck," he groans, dragging a hand over his face before he turns onto his back. "This's gotta be some kind of bullshit hangover."

You move over to him in bed and feel the intense warmth of his clammy forehead. Your brows draw together in concern.

"No, I think you're sick."

"Not possible," he grumbles. "I haven't been sick since..."

Well, since he was a kid, probably. He won't admit it, but he's surprised he still has that memory lodged in the back of his mind.

It comes to the forefront now: your hand on his cheek unknowingly mimics his mother's gentle touch, her soft, kind voice.

"Aw, my sweet boy. Let's get you feeling better."

He can almost recall the floral scent of her perfume, echoes of it in the shampoo you use.

Ben claims he's fine, that he doesn't need your help or want the medicine and tea you bring for him. (He tries the tea, grimaces, and spits it out when you're not looking.)

He's a sourpatch grumbly patient who only begrudgingly stays put in bed when you ask him to. He doesn't mind lying around and watching movies all day, not to mention episode after episode of Below Deck. It reminds him that he wants to get back into boating.

"Hey, sweetheart," he calls to you from the bedroom, his voice croaking all the while. "I'm getting you a yacht for Valentine's Day. You want it all white, or throw in a bit of gold? Actually, check out this one with the navy trim."

You roll your eyes to yourself when you step back into the room. You're carrying a tray with a large bowl of soup and a fifth of whiskey. He claims the latter will help soothe his throat, and you don't have the heart to argue with him when he's clearly feeling so shitty.

"You mean you're getting you a yacht," you reply wryly. "We live in the city. Where the hell would we put a boat?"

"In a yacht club, where it belongs," Ben retorts. He hooks an arm around your waist and peruses what you've brought him on the tray. He doesn't look all that interested.

"Look, I know you're not exactly a soupy kinda guy, but this'll make you feel better," you say.

"Why can't you put some fucking steak in it or something?" he grouses. He tries and fails to hide another wet cough.

"Why can't you just eat what I lovingly made, just for you," you snipped back.

He rolls his eyes at your attitude, but he pipes down. In that silence, he's conceding that you have a point. There was a time were all he had to do was glance in someone's direction, and there'd be some fucking moron to fulfill his every whim.

Now, you're probably the only one in the world that would actually do what you're doing...

Cooking for him, putting your heart into it, for the simple reason that you do care.

Ben takes the bowl of soup from your hands. Raising a brow, you offer him the spoon as well.

He eats without further complaint.

You smile and reward him with a sweet kiss on his forehead, brushing his hair back as you do so.

"See? That's not so hard, huh?" you can't help but needle him. "It's okay, baby. I'll take care of you."

He eyes you dryly, but he won't admit that there's a different kind of warmth coiling in his chest.

Boaz Priestly

"Uuuughhh, babe," he groans. "I feel like death on toast."

You're standing beside the bed with a smile playing on your lips. You brush back his for once un-gelled hair back from his face. It's weird to see it all limp and lifeless, slightly damp with sweat.

"Unironically, I should make you some toast," you reply. "What kind of medicine do we have?"

Priestly unearths his head from under his pillow to look up at you with miserable red-rimmed eyes and a sniffling, stuffy nose. "Can we count the tequila in the mini bar?"

"Maybe later," you laugh. "How are we on groceries?"

Priestly struggles to think. He takes your hand and rubs it back and forth across his chest. Maybe your sweet, loving touch has the power to clear away his congestion without him needing Vicks. Too minty.

"We have that pastrami I brought back from the shop," he says.

"That's six days old already," you shake your head.

"Aw, that's still good," he argues. "But uh, other than that, I think I have half a cheeseburger left from last night."

Last night's date at TGI Friday's, he means.

You heave a sigh. "Okay, clearly I'm going to the store. You just stay in bed and rest. Drink your tea."

He grimaces like a child. "I don't like tea."

"I know you don't like tea, but you need to drink it. It's good for your throat and your immune system."

He groans and flops back over onto his stomach. You bite your lip against a smile. He's such a whiny baby when he's sick.

Talk about Man Flu.

"Come on, be a good boy for me," you say, smacking him lightly on the ass. "Soon enough you'll feel better."

A smile creeps across his face where it's pressed against his pillow.

"Know what would really make me feel better?" he hedges. He tries to guide you down to him by tugging on your hand, but you resist him.

"Oh, no. You're not gonna get your germs all over me," you say.

"Hey, what happened to in sickness and in health?" he croaks. Even while under the weather, he's still plenty strong enough to grapple with you. He manages to yank you down. Laughing, you stumble into a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Huh, I don't remember exchanging any vows. You see a ring on this finger?" you tease, flashing your bare hand in his face to try and distract him and weasle out of his grip. "I can jump this ship anytime I want."

Priestly pouts. His arm hooks tighter around your waist. "Huh, guess you got me there..."

He turns his head and coughs roughly into his arm. Your amusement fades into concern and sympathy. You lay a hand over his chest while he struggles.

Once again, he clasps his free hand over yours. He glances up a bit hesitantly into your eyes.

"Well, maybe it's time there should be something on this finger," he murmurs.

You blink your eyes wider. Your head tilts, wondering if you just heard him right. Is this delirium fever talking, or is he serious?

"O-Oh yeah?" you ask.

Priestly tries to gauge your reaction. Seeing your face break out into a cute, shy smile raises the corners of his lips. Hope blooms in his chest, right beneath your hand.

"Yeah," he says, trying to clear his cracking throat. "I mean, if you're okay with that. If it's not too soon--"

You slip your fingers over his plush, chapped lips, and your smile brightens.

"When you're feeling better, you can ask me that question properly."

AN: 😆 I hope you liked the first ever addition of Priestly!! It was so fun to try and write him again (it's been a while lol). Feel free to imagine this vignette in the same storyverse as The Miracle Man and Code Red.

But I also hope you enjoyed the "Big 3," as I call them, even though Russell is starting to give Beau a run for his money on one of those slots. 😂 Let me know which guy you had the most fun reading on this one! 💜

And if you want even more fluff before Valentine's Day, check out my friend @waynes-multiverse who just posted her set of V-Day headcanons with Dean, Soldier Boy, Beau, and Russell: Headcanon: Valentine's Day 💕

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[chessboredom]

do you think burning spice is a drug addict considering that he likes to breathe in the spice storm and since spice powder acts kinda like a drug from that one line in the story where he says that Golden cheese will go berserk after breathing in the spice powder

I have thought about him snorting so much drugs high off his ass (in shit post form in my head) too many times it's not even a joke. He's like a very very very very very verryyyy VERY MISERABLE drug addict to me. If that is not incredibly obvious that he lives surrounded by his own subjects' dust and snorts them to go berserk, then again it always gets covered up by his groans of boredom and obsession for Destruction.

Burning Spice MIRRORS Golden Cheese, and vice versa. They are each other's half. Creation Abundance and Destruction. As destruction is a form of creation, creation is a form of destruction. They are actually no different from each other, for they are each other.

Golden Cheese's motherly love greed, but she is also incredibly selfless. Her kingdom is consisted with people she HOARDED and calls them her treasures. When she found out that her kingdom turned to dust, she tries to make a literal living after life for their souls because her mind was narrowed by her greed that she hasn't thought of trying to find more trasures from outside her simulation, until Gingerbrave and Friends™️ showed her their "selfless greed" by refusing to follow her orders, and then reminding her that she still has treasures waiting outside the simulation for her.

It also makes Burning Spice an abusive father so selfish and possessive that he thinks he could control change by being the one who causes it's downfall, and also making him the only one who would be able to keep all the knowledge of a kindgdom that once stood great, now crumbled into dust with a swing of his axe.

And so they are BOTH greedy.

GC's greed is incredibly selfless, while BS' greed is incredibly selfish.

GC tried to restore the life of her treasures who died, while BS takes life away from those who are living life the best.

GC learns to let go to find that there could be more treasures outside the cage she made for herself, while BS still hold on to them and trapping himself in a desert of his own mistakes.

And if you think he doesn't regret his actions, in a conversation with Nutmeg Tiger Cookie, he fondly remembers his first kingdom, gains self awareness for 5 seconds, changes the subject to hunting and then runs the fuck away.

“The more spectacular the civilization, the more fun it is to destroy it!” -(Korean) Burning Spice Cookie

And he next thing you know, he's already snorted that shit. And What better way to keep the dust falling from your hands and in between your fingers when you can snort it into your respiratory system. <3

So yeah, I think he's a drug addict and it's obvious and he's a miserable freak. (And he's also self destructive, but he can't die.)

Oopsie I tripped and fell and bled all over the conk crete and now I have to crawl over to Devsis hq to worship them and thank them for gracing the world Ancient/Beast parellels.

[nighttimenothings]

Lesbian Dating 101

notes from a butch4femme lesbian currently in the dating trenches...

i went on a date a week ago and while it was long (7.5 hours - in classic lesbian fashion) i immediately had post-yap regret and post-date clarity. let me explain:

this was our first date, and we'd had class together, so i'd figured we'd have at least something to talk about, yeah? so while conversation flowed, i realized afterwards that i spent most of it keeping the conversation going—and mind you, i don't mind and sometimes the dynamic works better this way, but this was giving dry and platonic.

i get that first date nerves exist!! i understand fully that some folks like listening more than talking, but if i'm walking away from a date asking 1) was that actually a date? or 2) did i learn anything about her? then something isn't quite right.

i look back on the date fondly, but i fear she was so nervous that she fell into some dating pitfalls. let's talk about those!! (i'm going to use the pronouns she/her below since i'm using experience with my date who uses those pronouns)

when on a date, AVOID/DON'T:

call her dude, bro, queen, any typically platonic endearments (unless you're ALSO flirting (something that was NOT happening)) don't accidentally friendzone her on the first date!!

forget to talk about yourself! while it's important to listen, don't forget that the other person wants to know you too! remember that dating is that you're learning a stranger, so make sure you do equal parts talking and listening!

pretend to be someone you're not. be open and your most authentic self — to do anything else is a disservice to yourself and to other people!

when on a date, TRY/DO:

if your date flirts, try to flirt back! it's not easy, but the more you try, the easier it gets (also, try to read the room, notice what she's comfortable with! baby steps, casanova!). remember that not everything has to be suggestive, but banter also counts as flirting! if you can gently tease each other, this is a great sign!

you should match each other's freak at some level! try to match their energy (*but don't be someone you're not - reference above!!)

keep an eye open for red and/or beige flags!! this is ESSENTIAL!! if you already see something that bothers you or doesn't quite jive with you, DON'T brush it off. it'll come back to haunt you.

these are just some i can think of off the top of my head currently, but if ya'll have questions and/or would like to read more, do let me know. i have quite a few thoughts on dating, especially now with dating apps in the mix (BOY do i have a lot to say about those). hopefully these help - have fun and be safe out there, folks <3

[scrumptiousstuffs]

can you post your top 3 moments where khaotung are visible in love with first?

So…I had to think hard on these but ultimately I picked these 3 moments. And in no particular order:

1) LOLFanfest 2024 press conference

We have seen countless of similar photos/videos of Khaotung just staring so adoringly at his bestie (truly the definition of heart eyes and such fondness in those gaze). But in my humble opinion, the above MayaTV photos captured it the best.

And because I can, let me prove to you Khaotung has looked at First the same way even when they were just babies in GMMTV (link):

2) The FK Taipei FanMeet 2023 (cue waterworks)

In all honestly, I thought the questions were quite harsh on the boys (because we know our boys get emotional when asked about the other and their friendship). But urgh, this question in particular, I admit, hit me hard. You call tell it also visibly affect both boys - but yeah, when Khaotung answered B) even as his voice was breaking and his hand was shaking (while trying so hard not look at his bestie who was already crying) - to the point he had to let his bestie answered the question first. 😭

3) This particular ArmShare moment during First birthday celebration in 2023 - when Khaotung told First “if you meet nice people, let them go, and stay with me” - I know it sounded like Khaotung was saying it in a joking tone. But I remember when I watched it for the first time, and I thought to myself - I think Khaotung is actually being serious (not in a stalkish way, but more so he knows First personality means he will make friends easily and Khaotung seems worried that he will be left behind - which I know sounds silly because if the last few years have thought us, First is just as besotted with his bestie)

Even more so when he reiterated it with his birthday message for 2024 during First bday gathering with his fans (the one where he asked First to always stay with him and ended with his cute “Na, Na, Na…” plea)

(Because Tumblr only allows one video per post, I’m linking the whole video here)

Ok…now I’m in shambles after answering this question. Anon, I’m emotional just thinking of these moments 😭😭😭😭

[beatrixst0nehill]

"Here we go, last day living as a 'girl'! Hope no one's too bummed, I guess I couldn't keep having fun as a sorority girl with huge cow tits forever. I can't believe my university is really doing this, I swear it's one big kink to these people to see trans girls detrans. Soooo, basically I was just going about my life, hooking up with boys, having fun partying at college and this morning one of my friends is like, 'Hey, Josie, did you know Prop 843 passed?' I lied and said I had no idea what that was. She giggled and groped one of my tits, smiling as she said that my college was about to force me to detrans.

I was like, 'WTF you can't be serious!' She kept groping my breasts, rubbing up against me, making me sooooo hard! She said my breasts were going to get chopped off immediately. I was stunned. I asked her if that was true and she was SO giddy! She miiiiight have rode my cock as she held out a video on her phone explaining Prop 843. Basically, at the discretion of all Kentucky universities, all trans students could be enlisted into a statewide detrans study. If we're between 19 and 25. And I'm 19, almost 20. By discretion, they were supposed to enlist uncertain and questioning trans people, instead they're only targeting the most passing trans people, almost exclusively those of us who never went through the wrong puberty and started blockers in junior high.

I was just getting used to really enjoying getting to be a girl, but I've already spent most of my life living as a girl, so I'll probably wind up as some femboy crossdresser anyway..... Which my friend reminded me I already was as she rode my cock. Guess I better embrace being a dumb boy. This sucks so bad though! I can't believe this bill actually passed! I miiiiight have voted for a few of the people saying they wanted to create it. But just as like a weird kink, like of course these people weren't going to actually win the election and pass this bill! But it made me hard af. Picturing it happening....... I nutted so many times fantasizing about it. I never thought it'd really happen! I was blushing so much as my friend rode my poor swollen cock, giggling and moaning all of her inner transphobic thoughts as she showed me the video, telling me she could always tell I was a boy even before we showered together, that it was so obvious I wasn't a girl. And of course her words only made me even harder and cum right into her pussy...... Um, hopefully all this estrogen that ballooned my boobs to this side made my cum too weak to impregnate anybody...... Ughhhh, guess it's time I get ready to embrace being a boy! Wish me luck!"

"Holyyyy fuck, guys! I am so happy I got detransed! Life is incredible now! I mean, don't get me wrong, getting fucked constantly by horny muscular frat boys was a dream come true, but now I'm like the femboy stud of the sorority. I 'officially' just volunteer here as a 'breeding adviser', but what I really do is use my newly enlarged cock to show all these college nymphos what a man I was always meant to be! Of course I still dress fem and I have my submissive days...... But this is seriously so much better than being a tanned bimbo trans girl with a tiny five-inch cock.

It's been almost a year since my last post and yes, at first it sucked. They practically shaved my head and chopped off my boobs immediately, as well as putting me on dick growth pills, a fuckton of T to masculinize me really fast, and steroids, mandating a new workout regimen to help unfeminize my body. I still look fucking gorgeous though! But now with way stronger arms, no giant udders weighing me down, and a fourteen-inch cock to destroy unsuspecting little sluts' pussies with. Honestly, facial hair is easy enough to cover with makeup, but sometimes I rock the beard for fun. I love having a deeper voice and all the ways my bone structure changed so fast to undo the unnatural girl puberty I cruelly forced on my body.

Finally, I'm getting to become who I was meant to be! A femboy stud who fucks anyone at this sorority no matter how vulnerable and pregnant they are. For all the bitching and moaning about locker rooms and bathrooms girls drag me into their spaces constantly now to fuck their brains out before a big test or game. Thankfully my cock is pumped full of so many drugs I can go for hours and barely feel tired. It's almost embarrassing looking back at my old vids and pictures, like how could I ever walk around with giant fat tits like that? 🤮 I was such a proud little whore, no wonder I was nothing but an ass to fuck for every guy here until I detransed and got my act together! Sooooo embarrassing looking back, but we all have our cringe phases! Some are just way worse than others! Hopefully more states pass this type of bill, please please please beg your representatives to introduce similar legislation in your state! I see a lot of 'girls' on my feed who need to face reality and detrans already! ❤️"

[hitlikehammers]

steddie does the 🌷flower-blooming🌷 disease love thing—but make it ✨only softness✨

OR: think hanahaki with a princess romantic, ✨non-life threatening✨, horticultural🌿 streak

Honestly: after everything, the flowers should not have been a surprise. And look: sappy romance novels might talk about choking on them or what the fuck ever, about it being lethal if unrequited, blah blah etcetera. But as far as Eddie ever understood, it was kinda like…your body having too much of a thing, and needing to expel it, lest it cause some kind of imbalance. But when it was love—requited or otherwise—it expelled itself as something a little horrifying, but undeniably beautiful. Flowers. And you tend them as best you can. They’re a part of you. Because it’s terrifying. But it’s beautiful. You’re in love that big.

rating: t ♥️ tags: post-s4, falling in love, friends to lovers, fluff, romance, softness, hanahaki disease, or really more: hanahaki-adjacent 🌺🌻, as in: NO life-threatening angst ONLY big feelings and beauty, feelings reveal, love confessions, happy ending♥️

for @steddielovemonth day sixteen: “If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.” ― Alfred Tennyson

A lot had changed since Vecna. Aches and pains that weren’t there before. Nightmares featuring a very new cast of characters. A family he never could have imagined cobbling together who actually took the concept seriously, in a way Eddie had never felt anything close to in his life—save with Wayne. Random worries that plagued a lot of random moments, unprovoked.

Steve goddamn Harrington sliding almost too-perfectly into every little crevice of Eddie’s life—except for the sexy ones and…that hadn’t started as a problem. In fact, it hadn’t started even as a consideration, because gorgeous as he is? Straight-hero-boy was never gonna be on Eddie’s metaphorical dance card. So it’d been a much less convoluted and earth-shattering experience—though it still very much was both of those things; just less—to wake up in the hospital with Steve napping at his side, or squinting at a pamphlets nurse had left about physical therapy; or waking up and Steve was already in the kitchen making breakfast, like real breakfast, when Eddie’s meal standards usually involved shoving his hand into a box and stuffing his mouth with theta he could grab. Or Steve just, stopping by before or after his shifts, to see if Eddie needed anything. To listen to Eddie ramble about a campaign, or bring Eddie the latest release from a band he said he liked probably one time. To fall asleep on the bed on top of the comforter and cut the nightmares short just by rolling over with a hand to eddies chest and a muffled S’okay.

Or most uncanny: coming over, just to hang out.

So getting used to all that made it easier to segue into going to visit Steve at work when Eddie could finally move around enough to drive again. Stopping at Steve’s place unannounced when he’d finally been convinced he was genuinely welcome—by way of Steve giving him a key, what the fuck—and that there really were no parents waiting with pitchforks. Trying his own hand at making meals for when Steve worked midday shifts, so he’d have something when he pulled in—so what if it’s frozen pizza. It’s the fucking thought that counts—and Eddie really does need to start small. He really can’t start a fire in Steve’s kitchen, so he needs to get a decent track record going here in his own first.

Because he does want to cook for Steve. In Steve’s kitchen. When he spent the night at Steve’s, even. When he kept some nightmares in check.

Honestly: after all that, the flowers should not have been a surprise.

And look: sappy romance novels—aimed either at horny teenagers or housewives who can’t get a refill on their antidepressants—might talk about choking on them or what the fuck ever, about it being lethal if unrequited, blah blah etcetera. But as far as Eddie ever understood, it was kinda like…your body having too much of a thing, and needing to expel it, lest it cause some kind of imbalance. Like lots of…body things.

But when it was love—requited or otherwise—it expelled itself as something a little horrifying, but undeniably beautiful.

Flowers.

So when Eddie starts growing jasmine from his fingertips; honeysuckle in the hairs on his arms and legs; bluebells from every line of scar tissue, no matter where it ran; alternating sunflowers, dahlias, and red asters, straight from the center of his sternum, always in the same order and always accompanied by whichever wasn’t steadily unfurling from his chest, the other two in spades were getting coughed up not violently, but persistently, in the meantime—always, like all of it, a little fucking terrifying—with blossoms of lisianthus to cover both his nipples—which he had to look up; they were real pretty but fuck if he’d ever seen one before it bloomed his tits like a Renaissance painting trying to be censored by a stray leaf—before he pulled them all the way out and sparked the cycle again: horrifying. But he knew enough that the point was to cultivate the growth, the encourage your own body doing its thing to keep you a-okay (or close enough), so he does what everyone’s taught to do, if this…challenge happens to visit upon them.

You fucking plant them. So they can take root the way they want to but can’t—whether because it’s too much for anyone to speak and show even their truest, most treasured partner, or because they don’t, or can’t, have a partner with whom to even try—but you plant the growing things, the living embodiment of what your heart’s beating out of your pores.

Literally.

And you tend them as best you can. They’re a partof you.

Because it’s terrifying. But it’s beautiful.

You’re in love that big.

And of course Eddie knows why. He watches Steve sleep too much, touches his chest to ease the nightmares too much, cooks next to him too much, feels his breath catch at his side on the sofa too much, for him not to know.

He’s kinda proud of it, actually. Because what he feels is this huge and terrifying and exquisite. No matter what he can never do about it with his gorgeous straight now-undoubtedly-best friend.

But it is massive and terrifying and beautiful, and fuck yeah his every cell should be blossoming a testament to the fact that he, freak-supreme Edward Munson, gets to feel it. No matter what comes or doesn’t—save for the flowers themselves.

It’s predictable, though, and definitely in line with both Eddie’s general mixed bag of luck, as much as with the life and routine and expectation of the presence of Steve goddamn Harrington, that…well:

“What is this?”

Eddie tapping down the soil around the last of this morning’s ready-to-transplant blossoms he plucked straight out the shower—good for like…watering and stuff.

He thinks.

He hadn’t heard Steve’s approach, is the thing. And he’s never shown Steve this little space, cordoned off at the edge of the woods behind the little house their government money earned them. It’s mostly out of sight. There no reason to poke around out here.

Save…well. This reason.

“Just my garden,” Eddie tries to say all casual, keep it light like his heart’s not in his goddamn throat.

“You,” Steve says slow, walks the perimeter like he recognizes on sight what this is, what this means, that it’s all terrifying and beautiful and something close to sacred.

All he says is:

“These can’t grow this fast.”

Like he actually does specifically know for a fact that the various species in the ground in front of them couldn’t naturally be this big, this fast, in the time since the Munsons moved in.

Eddie still asks, because he’s never taken Steve here, wasn’t expecting Steve to find him here now, and his heart’s still knocking wild at the base of his fucking throat:

“How do you know?”

Steve looks at Eddie for a series of blinks that feel probably a lot longer for how many heartbeats fit into the space of time. Then he shrugs, eyes back to the flowers:

“I like to garden.”

That’s news to Eddie.

“How do you know I didn’t like to garden, too? Y’know, before?”

Because Eddie could have. Not like they’d known each other. He doesn’t know where in the fucking trailer park he’d have done it, let alone hidden it from view so as to have no evidence, but he couldhave. These beauties could have been salvaged from a former home, a half-former life, for all anyone could prove—the trailer’s long been confiscated and the lot it’s sat on’s still quarantined.

Steve leans over the sad little fence Eddie’s put up around the edges, where the larger plants—mostly the ones that burst out from the center of his chest—make a border. His eyes flick up to Eddie’s as he reaches for a petal, but doesn’t touch: he’s asking permission.

And of course Eddie nods, because anything he has is Steve’s. No question.

“Who is it for?”

Eddie nearly can’t stop himself from snorting because: anything he has is Steve’s.

This, maybe most of all.

“No one I can have,” Eddie leans against the opposite line of fencing as Steve strokes bright red, bright yellow, satiny fronds that looks right in his hands.

“That’s insane,” of Steve’s response, more to the flowers than to Eddie.

Bur at the very least it lets Eddie get the snort he’d stifled earlier out as he deadpans:

“Gee, thanks.”

Steve looks up then. Petals still held delicate between deft fingertips.

“No, I just,” and his eyes are wide when he glances back down, releases the petals gently, makes sure they fall back to where they’re meant to lie. Pristine.

Precious.

Something pings like a plucked string in eddies chest, underneath where he’s due for a sunflower to appear real soon

“I mean, loving you would be such a,” Steve looks up and locks with Eddie’s eyes:

“A privilege.”

More plucking in Eddie’s chest for that, Jesus fuck. The sprouting of a petal above the sensation. Quicker; more urgent—his heartbeat slamming like it’s pushing the blossom out all on its own.

Eddie doesn’t know what to make of that, save maybe that’s how this works, when the reason for it all is standing in front of you, spouting…this.

This.

Then Steve’s glancing around a little more, taking in the varietals on display a little more intently before he adds:

“Flowers or no flowers.”

He says it almost a little breathy, but. It might just be Eddie’s imagination.

“I never really understood it,” Steve goes on, apropos of everything but still kinda out of nowhere all the same. “Like is it supposed to be a, a modern day dowry or something? But it’s not worth money which, I guess,” he licks his lips, and Jesus H, he’s so fucking beautiful.

Terrifying, but beautiful.

“That would be better, really,” Steve decides with a gentle little smile. “Means more.”

It means…everything, really. Steve means everything.

Flowers or no, he already did. And now, it’s…Eddie kinda appreciates the terror. He loves knowing, having tangible proof of how his heart’s that set, and unwavering with it.

“I wished for it. As a kid.”

Eddie tilts his head as Steve lifts a while sunflower—the one flower especially that Eddie knows gives full weight to the who of all this.

As if there was any question.

“So many times,” and Steve’s burying his face a little in the massive head of the flower—they don’t smell like much, Eddie’s learned.

But he kind of thinks what they do smell like, really is sunshine.

“Can I,” Steve swallows, straightens, looks hopeful, nervous.

Beautiful; terrified.

“Can you, just,” he clears his throat, and extends a hand; “cane you come with me somewhere?”

As if it’s a question. As if it’s ever been a question.

His hand’s in Steve’s between heartbeats.

“I need to show you something,” Steve whispers, but his smile is…golden.

The car ride is silent, but they done let go. Eddie gets led into the Harrington house, up the stairs, farther down the hall than he ever really goes.

He understands why once the door to one of the last rooms is opened, and as he’s led inside.

“Steve…”

He takes in the fragrance; he takes in a puzzling cross of chaos and maze-like intrigue in raised flower beds under greenhouse lights. It’s like a puzzle, a game, on a rich-boy budget.

It’s two lives, laid out in a single beautiful testament.

“I didn’t always love to garden, just always wanted to,” Steve murmurs low; terrified—but so so warm; “wanted to feel enough, to garden.”

Eddie turns from taking in the intricate lines from a bird’s eye perspective, appreciating how it draws him in, like it, like it’s for—

“Who,” he chokes around the question he can’t help but ask, hope to big and goring, a bubble set to burst through his ribs:

“Who’s it for?”

Steve leans closer, raises a brow.

“Eddie,” he says pointedly; it’s terrifying, how beautiful Eddie’s stupid simple name sounds in that voice, on that tongue.

Steve grabs Eddie’s hands again and walks the through the labyrinth slow, intentional, and eddies breath catches when it hits him: they’re all the same.

The flowers are familiar because their gardens are the same.

Save for one striking difference. A notable lack of yellow. But then—

Steve crouches a little, lifts a very delicate flower hanging from a broad-growing shrub, frames it in the hollow of his palm.

“What do they look like, to you?” Steve asks, but the answer’s fucking obvious:

Music notes. They’re, they’re…

They’re Steve’s garden’s sunflowers.

They’re the ones that make it undeniable, the answer to Eddie’s shaky-hopeful question.

But if they weren’t, if they somehow were not themselves enough—

Steve pulls Eddie close, close, closer.

Kisses his mouth as satin-sweet as a petal between fingertips.

And Eddie’s chest feels like it’s blooming every shade of loving, all at once, for the discovery:

He hadn’t even scratched the surface of just how much love he could feel. And there’s not terror in it, now.

But there is so much more beauty.

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @allmyfavoritethingsinoneblog @anthrobrat @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @disrespectedgoatman @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @madigoround @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here and here

[celtrist]

The giving up autonomy during the radioapple bad end makes me wonder what would happen if Alastor's curse got broken AFTER a bad end? Like, baby-trapped Alastor or forcefully transitioned Alastor, both having straight up given up, how would they even deal with recovering from that? In the baby-trapped scenario it's not like Lucifer can stop interacting with Alastor because there's a CHILD involved now, but holy shit.

I imagine there's always the sort of optional end to each bad end route that does lead back to the "good end" where the curse is lifted! But while that was always the thought, I didn't fully think about the implications of what Alastor would have to deal with from each bad end!

While there are things that Alastor and everyone would still have to deal with in the normal good end (like Alastor's paranoia), the bad end to the good end is probably soooo much worse for everyone. The only ones I think wouldn't mind what happened would be the Vees (aside from Velvette being like "ew, I was trying to go for his old ass"), Alastor's owner, and on sooome level Niffty and Husk. Niffty is pretty depraved, but in canon she doesn't seem that interested in doing that sort of stuff with Alastor so I can see her not being 100% good with her actions. Husk on the other hand I can see absolutely loving that he was the one that owned Alastor instead of the other way around, and thrilled he became an overlord again. But I don't think he'd love all the physical abuse and forced dressing that clearly had Alastor uncomfortable. Hell, I think he'd be a bit weirded out by Alastor being obedient and calling Husk "sir" with no bite, but then he'd be actually pleased with that in this AU.

I think each bad end does have something pretty bad to linger on after, though some less than others. Like all in all, the best bad ends to go to the good end with would probably be radiobelle or radiodust. While there'd definitely be aftereffects, those two endings honestly don't have anything too egregious happening like Vaggie's or Lucifer's ending (if you'd wanna go the baby-trapping route with that ending).

Vaggie would probably be WAAAYY more avoidant of Alastor post her bad end turned good end. Because I can't imagine her being able to live with the fact of knowing she's fucked over someone's life and their comfortability with their body. Potentially I could see Vaggie self-exiling herself from the Hotel and going missing just because of that. I could also see her trying to help by finding things for Alastor (de-transitioning places, therapy, and so on), but never bringing it to Alastor himself and asking others to instead. I imagine in whoever's bad end he ends up in that turns into a "good end" that Alastor would become waaaayy more paranoid and potentially skittish of that person. So he'd probably always get very quiet and fall into the "Allison" persona Vaggie gave whenever she was around. A persona that I think he'd struggle getting rid of in general because he'd been conditioned and mutilated so badly (both physically and mentally) to fit that persona.

Lucifer, if we go with the baby-trapping idea in his ending, would also be quite difficult. Because it would already be difficult with it just between Alastor and Lucifer (Lucifer's easy answer would be to just fuck off from the hotel and never step foot 100 yards from Alastor), but adding a baby to the mix would muddle things a lot! Lucifer definitely reads as the type to not care by the means of where his baby might come from. If it's his, it's his. And he'd want to have this kid TRY to have some semblance of a good life because they didn't ask to be a part of one of Lucifer's most regrettable moments of his life. I think for both Lucifer and Alastor, it would be hard to look at the kid. Because I mean, they'd be a stark reminder of what Lucifer did to Alastor and that terrible curse Alastor has had to live with for the majority of his afterlife. I'm inclined to say Alastor wouldn't like the kid, but I'm genuinely not entirely sure. My gut feeling would be that he'd absolutely hate them and want nothing to do with them when the bad end turns good. By the same token, I can see Alastor having latched onto the kid. Not as "the one good thing in his life" necessarily as much as he would be able to so much more easily pretend someone wasn't obsessed with him. As a baby, they're just a baby. As a kid, he could brush off the marriage comments as a strange kid thing (like just those kiddish proclamations where a kid will say "I'm gonna marry mom someday" but it's genuinely just from a place of innocence. I think that's more of an anime thing, but it would work in this au). At the very least, Alastor would have heavy mixed feelings about the kid if he doesn't downright hate them.

If they were a baby by the time radioapple's bad end turned into a good end, I could see Lucifer leaving WITH the child and taking care of them on their own. Especially if we do go with the idea that Alastor would want nothing to do with the kid after everything. Lucifer would probably hide their origins from them: Both on the basis of "how do you tell a person that they're a product of something so bad" and so they don't go trying to look for Alastor (potential story angst to be sure). But I think Lucifer would try to give them as normal of a life as possible. He honestly, if able to, might have them live in a completely different ring from Alastor. Maybe give them to Asmodeous and Fizz. And in the case scenario where Alastor wants to be the one to keep the child, Lucifer would back off and leave. It'd hurt not being able to see his own child, but he's not exactly gonna argue with Alastor. And I think Alastor himself would make sure his kid wouldn't go meeting Lucifer. I don't think they'd hide their origins from them when they're old enough to properly process it. It's in the scenario where the kid is already out of baby-or even toddler age there would be some issues. Because then they're put into a bind of completely ruining this one kid's life. I don't think Alastor would honestly tolerate the idea of suffering the same living space as Lucifer and still want him to leave. So even when they're older it'd still pretty much end the same: the kid either stays with Alastor or leaves with Lucifer. Except this time, I don't think Lucifer would give up the kid to Asmodeous and Fizz and instead keep raising them on his own (maybe with Lilith if that would be within reason, but that depends on where canon goes quite honestly). And if the kid is an adult, pretty easy for Lucifer to just leave then. Alastor might disown the kid as well in this instance, but that again depends on if you'd think he'd actively dislike them or does care about them.

[raayllum]

Hi. I don't mean this to be confrontational at all and apologize if I come off that way. I'm asking purely out of curiosity.

I feel like I rarely see you post any TDP critical takes or engage with TDP critical takes made by others unless you're rebutting those takes. I believe (unless I'm mistaken) you even said once or twice before that you have the "tdp critical" tag blacklisted. I was wondering if there was a particular reason for that. Whether you were just uncomfortable posting anything negative regarding the show given that you're primarily a fanblog or maybe you simply lack takes that are actually critical of the show or for some other reason.

It's absolutely fine if you don't want to share or engage with criticisms of the show. I was just curious why for such an active blog that's even existed since the very beginning of the series I see most exclusively positive takes shared regarding the show by it.

Not confrontational at all! TLDR at the bottom because I'm sorry in advance for how long this is.

It's because of 3 main things:

1) It's my blog so I only really engage and focus on (to the best of my ability) takes that I agree with. Occasionally I rebut more critical takes, but most of my stuff I post is things I wanted to write regardless (like my "why Callum made his choices in 7x02" meta) and then discourse came after I'd started writing the thing privately, but it was still a topic I thought was fun to explore. If people posted critical stuff that I agreed with, I'd probably reblog it, but it has just yet to happen, and I'm not too interested in generating it myself (more on that in a second).

2) I have a background as and was trained to examine things like an English major; I also tutor/teach humanities and literary analysis (and a surprising amount of math) for a living. This does not by any means make me an authority, but it does mean I approach stories from a very specific good faith lens that I think the majority of fandoms in general just... don't? Or at least seem not to, as far as I can tell, but maybe I'm wrong; I don't know what's going on in anyone else's head. (This also does not mean that anyone who's an English major has to or should think this way, or does; this is just how I personally internalized further what I learned from my degree and how it aligned with what I'd already been inclined to do with stories since like, childhood.)

What I mean, therefore, at least (and more elaborate thoughts on it here in terms of the perspective I'm coming from) is that because of my lifelong inclinations of 90% of the time Enjoying Canon / my background, I typically go into stories assuming two things: first, that the story is exactly what is supposed to be; and two, if something doesn't work or make sense to me, I assume first that I'm wrong, and I go looking for reasons about why the story would do this before I pass judgement on it. This can apply to character beats / characterization, execution, plot, etc. just about anything. This doesn't mean that the story can't be 'wrong' (or 'bad'), just that it's never my initial assumption.

My search for reasons/answers also does not mean that I'm going to magically be able to deduce reasons, or that any reasons I find are objectively correct and/or intentional or have to work for anyone else; sometimes I can't find the reasons (which to me is my biggest indicator that a story is not for me or no longer for me). Sometimes I find the reasons and it still isn't 'good' or is still not my preference (a good example would be when I thought a TV show randomly paired 2 characters together that I was a not a fan of in their s4, and I still don't like them together, but when I got to S5 I was like "Oh yeah, for plot reasons, of course you'd pair them together, that makes perfect sense") but I know I'm giving things a fair shake. I'm engaging with the story as is, which is my primary interest, not necessarily what I expect or even want the story to be. No piece of media promised to be my ideal; I entered in the story contract of being along for THEIR ride and gauging if the loop-de-loops are a thing I'd enjoy, but they're not going to (nor do they need to) tell my story to be 'Good'.

I've shipped things or enjoyed ideas that would 100% make a story worse if it was canon, and I didn't want them to be canon! I didn't need them to be, either. I'm interested in learning, growing, and adjusting with whatever is presented to me, and if I can't do that (or am no longer enjoying doing so) then it's time for me to go. This doesn't mean I never approach stories from a lens of 'here's what they could do better' (I'm not a big fan of She-Ra or The Owl House, which are both notoriously popular, and I have Thoughts on both of them; I can talk all day long about how structurally broken but fun Frozen is, or how poorly butchered the Star Wars sequel trilogy is) but that's usually when a story has a persistent flaw to me on a structural or overarching basis—consistent tonal issues (which I don't take seriously even for shows like Shera that I think have them, because I'm the adult choosing to watch stuff made for children so of course the tone's not for me) or broken lore, ableist/racist writing, or too many underdeveloped characters or retcons. A single scene, episode, or season (depending on the percentage of the show it is, if it's a full third or something than yeah that's more of an issue)—depending on the severity of the fumble—is probably not going to be enough for me to be pissed about it.

Part of this also stems, I think, from giving stories the grace that I'd want my own to receive some day, but I digress.

I also know from my experiences as writer is that sometimes the choices I (or a story has made) won't work for everyone, wasn't made to work for everyone, and what I dislike about a thing is 100% a choice that the author was making On Purpose that they love, and well - it's their story, isn't it? So holding space for "this is how I subjectively feel, this is what I think the story was trying to do, here's why I feel it didn't quite hit that goal, or did have the pay off to set up (just not in the manner I'd predicted" is like, important to me to all hold simultaneously as separate things that can occasionally overlap.

3) As stated before, I do have critiques—quite a few, actually—for TDP (a few I've briefly touched on here before, such as its lack of female-female relationships) but generally speaking I've never seen anybody else have the same ones.

Part of this is undoubtedly because I don't go looking, but I've also been in the fandom for 6+ years and have seen a Lot of critique for the show to the point it all gets redundant/recycled (hence the blacklist because I've never agreed with any of it) and I do think—not all—but a lot of is just... not that well founded in the text or just not very well expressed, which makes it harder to understand where people are coming from. I've written before about different types of fandom critique (vague/assumptive vs more specific critique which I think is more communicative/productive) but I know for myself, my critique is going to be Consistent for the whole show and specific about why I think what I think. If something bothers me in one season, I'm gonna meticulously check to be like "is this in other seasons? did it bother me then? if so, why or why not?" and if I'm not being consistent on that basis in terms of where and why I'm levelling critique, that's gonna change my mind.

For example, I think S6 repeats a lot of dialogue / ideas, sometimes almost if not directly back to back in scenes, and sometimes in exceedingly similar ways, particularly at the Starscraper sections of the story. For example, Kosmo explains that "on every moonless night, a blizzard rages and shrouds the heavens" and then Kosmo repeats the exact same information like 7 minutes later in the exact same way: "for centuries on every moonless night, a blizzard rages and shrouds the heavens." And it would be one thing if these repetitions were like, in different episodes, because not everyone is going to binge or watch the previously on, and you gotta get audiences caught up. That's why Karim and Miyana have a similar discussion/repetition in 4x08 and 4x09 respectively, but we're in the same episode in S6, we like Just learned this. I don't necessarily know what information we'd put in the 2nd instance with Kosmo instead (maybe highlighting his desire to see the stars, foreshadowing that he'll be timeblind further?) but I've looked for a reason for the repetition, and while I think it's a cool idea for Kosmo to have a tendency to repeat things as a character quirk / set up his affinity for being timeblind (because to deal with alternate timelines is to deal with repetition until things branch off) it's not a satisfactory reason for me.

Or like, S2 has my least favourite pacing in the show, because while I adore the flashback episodes and they're really fucking important for theme (my number one fave thing!!) they do cause the middle of the season to more or less grind to a halt in terms of the main storyline when 2x04 was already more of a transition / filler episode (which we needed after the Moon Nexus arc, 2x04 is one of my fave eps in the season, but it would typically be a transition episode to move us into a new plot section of the story, & that's not quite what happens here, so the pacing drags a lil).

But I don't think season 2's pacing is bad. I don't think 6x04 is a bad episode or that Kosmo is a poorly written character. It's just not my personal preference, and I think I'm a lot more cautious about using that metric (my enjoyment, my preferences, how relatable it is to me, etc) to discern how "good" a story is quality wise. A story can be a great story even if there is nothing relatable in it to me or if it makes me deeply uncomfortable, because art can exist for a lot of different reasons and my limited-ass white western perspective or personal story preferences is not the be-all end-all. I think TDP is a beautiful example of rejecting punitive punishment, and I've gotten more pro-abolish prisons as I've gotten older, but some of my own works have characters who chase revenge and that's the portrayed as the right thing to do, because not everything has to line up perfectly or have a singular way in which to align. It's interesting to explore a variety of viewpoints and that's the whole reason I write.

None of this means I never use my personal preferences or enjoyment as a metric, but that's usually when I'm making recommendations to people or just talking about my personal feelings, and I don't tend to lean on those much when it comes to Analyzing a story other than a jumping off point of "Huh this scene made me emotional, I wonder why? [examines the narrative for set up and pay off]". Cause I think I do, ultimately, consider myself a meta blog, and that's always been my #1 in fandom ever since I got into fandom at 12 years ago, that's what I love doing and engaging in.

If people wanted to have Actual Discussions of "this character beat felt ooc" and they could present their evidence from the text (similar scenes where a character responded differently or something or whatever), and I could say "oh, interesting, that felt in character to me because of XYZ" and I would present my evidence for the text, and we would go back and forth both having a good time before probably respectfully agreeing to disagree, I'd love to engage just for the discussion, I love character and characterization analysis. One of the most fun times I ever had was arguing both for and against the "S4 Rayla is a fake/illusion" theory before the season released because it was fun to consider and counter stuff. I have one friend who's also autistic and back in university we would just swap contrarian story viewpoints for like, an hour on something we had both read, and it was the best. (That friend loved the end of Game of Thrones, which like no one fucking liked, and also has S4 and S7 as like their top 2 TDP seasons, which isn't even true for me, god bless their soul.)

But I would say at least 70-85% of the time when people are critiquing a thing, while it might be coming from a consciously analytical standpoint, that's not what they want to express or that's not how they express it (or at least, not in a way that I can personally understand). They want to vent, and I've definitely done that before with stories myself, I get it. Sometimes a story pisses you off and you just gotta vent. But I'm not going to engage with someone who's venting unless I agree, and if it becomes clear that they are after I do engage because I think maybe they're not venting, and then they are, then I'm just gonna leave 'em in peace. I hope they're having a great time / get whatever they need out of the process.

I also just... am not going to post things I don't agree with. I'm not gonna pretend to have critiques I don't. If I have a critique on... anything that I felt was worth posting about, I would. I don't think I do. Like, I walked out of S4 feeling so happy and excited and content with the season as a whole, MUCH more than I felt when first walking out of S6 or S7, but like I process that shit privately and now I really do like those seasons, so? Yeah.

I think a lot of my disdain for Heavy constant critique comes back to like, I remember being like 13-14 years old and being so excited to come onto tumblr and find out what the ATLA fandom was analzying, because it's in many ways the show I reverse engineered literary analysis from (Katara-Azula was an early, apparent, and favourite foils dynamic of mine, for example) and there's so many lovely things about it. At that point my fandom experiences had been like a really small fandom of a show that wasn't that good but we loved it for what it is, and HTTYD, which had a very thoughtful thriving community of analyzers, and they would debate episodes and ideas in a very friendly manner even if they didn't always agree. So getting on ATLA tumblr and seeing nothing but hate for so much of the show for miles, and seeing so much hate for all the specific things that I loved the most, and that were the most meaningful to me and that I was stupid or childish to like or enjoy or get excited about them, broke my heart honestly. And I just never want to be that or potentially contribute to that for anyone else; I really don't. And at a certain point, if your critique does align with the majority takeaway, you gotta ask yourself if you wanna or really need to toss your hat in the ring and if you'd be adding anything to it, because sometimes we don't all need to comment on every single particular XYZ thing has commented on (no I didn't like the Crowlord jokes in S4, I don't like his character in general, he's also barely in the show, my dislike does not matter to me; the story uses him for comedic relief, he objectively fulfills that role even if he doesn't subjectively work for me, it is small potatoes, I'd rather focus on the more interesting, more prominent things that I love).

TLDR;

Thus far, every time TDP has done something I went ??? about, I've found a reason + one that worked for me, or it's small enough that it's a nitpick. If I don't love all parts of canon, then I stop enjoying it, and if I stop enjoying it, I leave the fandom. If I'm in the fandom, then I love and appreciate all parts of it, even if things may not always necessarily align with my preferences. I'm interested in seeing what the story is doing and focusing on that with my blog, my primary interest is not based in what I want it to do (not saying that's where anyone who does critique the show is coming from or that it's lesser to do so, this just how I'm conceptualizing the difference in mindset, but maybe I'm wrong about where the divide is or what the mindset is). 90% of the time whatever the show does I end up liking more or finding more interesting anyway, and I've also never had anything align with my specific brain more than TDP has. Kinda simple as that, in some ways.

[andcars]

[ 𝗙𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗦 ] Mondays in Monaco

premise. you're kind of an emotional gal. you've cried or felt stumped more times than you can count—but you can count five. those five in comparison to the one time that daniel needed help feels like a balance in your relationship. well, the start of a balance anyways.

tags #ㅤangst, hurt/comfort, daniel ricciardo exits formula one for the last time, emotional fluff, reading is a singer-songwriter but that's barely anything in the plot wc #ㅤ 1.9k

ㅤㅤFEEL FREE TO INBOX ME FOR THOUGHTS OR REQUESTS !

| MASTERLIST⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀MONDAYS IN MONACO

ONE

The credits rolled down the screen. The melancholic soundtrack fades into silence.  Tears streamed down your face with your head turned away from Daniel. Despite that, the man’s eyes have been more invested in watching you than the film. It's embarrassing because you think you've cried just about three times with this movie. Daniel, notedly, has smiled and giggled three times as well.

"Hey," he said, a grin killed into the tone of his voice. He pulled you into a hug, laughter spilling from him. "Come on now, don't be shy. It's okay to cry. It was a sad movie."

It was a sad movie. That was not the problem. The problem was that Daniel couldn't stop making fun of you. Your fist collides with his chest as you whine. Enchanté is now stained with your tears for a doomed family. “You’re mean!” you complain, “Absolutely heartless. Not even—not even once crying for the dad!”

“I did cry!” It's not obvious when he's still laughing.  "Heartless. Seriously heartless.” You feel his tattooed hand smoothen the creases on the back of your shirt, a comforting feeling as he moves you close. Your body pressed against his, the tease from his words nothing to the want to be in his arms. Despite all of it, you’re pulled into his lap and allowed to cry in peace.

TWO

It's never a surprise how ruthless the media can be. The headlines screamed at you from the screen: "Ricciardo's New Flame–Another Investment?"  The comments section was a sea of incels with their dicks dry and heart the Sahara.  Most of their comments are about how you're a distraction to him. Everything about you is a barrier to his first world championship.

You felt dread coiling in your stomach. Dating Daniel came with accepting that you won't be the only one who will. From male fans to female fans to children really, all of them will look at your boyfriend with stars in their eyes. You're nothing special. The distance closing between the two of you though, is a unique fragment of his and yours relationship.

Daniel found you scrolling through the articles, your face monochromatic. He immediately knew something was wrong. He sat beside you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders.  "What is it?" he asked, his voice concerned. While you closed your phone, he already saw the large text.

He frowns as he pulls your phone down as if that will bury the news. "They just want to talk," he said, his voice firm. "It's like they don't get any entertainment from me going around in weird shapes every now and then." That makes you laugh. He likes that you've laughed.

Daniel does his best as he closes you in between his chest and the mattress.  "You're amazing," he said, your face in his hands. "No one can actually say no to you. If you're a distraction, then I would love to have my eyes on you anytime. Nothing else should matter."  His lips on yours are a big FUCK YOU to every journalist out there with nothing to do. You almost want to post it on his account.

THREE

Coming out of musical hibernation for months, you need to write something. Your job is fun. You get to work out all your problems and thoughts in a creative way. It can’t be a job when you enjoy it. However, you’d been staring at a blank page with white noise playing in your head.  Frustration gnawed at you. Your notebook, thick with words, suddenly pale and deficit of any good ideas.

Daniel, also a man who enjoys his job, gives you food. You’ve been holed up in your bedroom and he looks eager to pull you out. You’re proven right when he hums, asking,  "Writer's block?" 

You nodded, sighing.  "It's just… nothing's coming.  My head is still in summer break, basically."

He puts his hand over the notebook, "Sometimes," he starts, "you need a breath of fresh air. No offense but your apartment isn’t the best for any air or even natural sunlight to get in.”

True. Fuck New York, you guess.

So then he takes your hand and pulls you away from your hellhole. Privacy is a privilege but the two of you go outside like nothing matters. The city doesn’t have the best walking experience but you make do. His fingers lock with yours, and he gives you more ideas to write a song of emotions than you ever had in your notebook.

FOUR

Weeks apart, separated by continents, race schedules, and shootings, the world is distance has driven you wild. It has been agonizing. You’ve counted the days until the both of you could meet. When the clock has turned the last second, you’re waiting patiently in Nice for the sight of Daniel.

When the familiar curly head is seen at a distance away, your body feels lighter. You always tell yourself you can deal with the distance. But as he closes the much-hated distance between the two of you, your tears swell and suddenly you’re just a crybaby in his arms.

A huff leaves him as you bump into his chest. Like instinct, his arms wrap around your body. "I missed you so much," you sob, holding him tight as if to never let him go.

His embrace is more than familiar.  "I missed you too," he whispers, his stubbled jaw pressing against the top of your head, "Missed you so much."

You don’t think of yourself as overly emotional. However, is it that bad that your heart is a jar of emotions? You can’t forget him now that you’ve had him. Every second of your life has been left yearning for him. Daniel is a man that you don’t want out of your reach. It’s embarrassing and almost obsessive. It’s a comfort that you know he feels the same when he refuses to even let you shower alone when the two of you get to Monaco. 

FIVE

It’s something that was going to come sooner or later. You knew that. You’ve been excited about it for months and you’re not one to back out last minute. But as boxes clutter your apartment, there is a tug on your chest.  You were excited to finally move to Monaco with Daniel. It’s the next step of your relationship.  A pang of sadness tugged at your heart.  You were leaving your life in America, your friends, your family, everything familiar. You barely even got out of the state before you met Daniel.

He finds you sitting amidst the boxes, a dark expression over your just previously excited face. “Hey,” he greets, a smile forming for you to mirror, “Reminiscing?”

“Maybe,” you think about it again, “Yeah. I really am.” You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm excited," you are, you one-hundred percent are, "but I'm also going to miss everything here."

Sentimentality is always a big trait in your soul. It matches Daniel’s own. He squeezes your hand, kissing it with the softness of his lips.  "It’s not like I’m whisking you away forever. We'll come back to visit," he promised. “You have your friends in Monaco to help you settle in. I’m sure my bed is very familiar with you as well," he smiles, dangling the idea of you relaxing in the comfort of your shared bedroom. 

"And besides," he’s adding with a grin, "you'll have me." That’s probably the only thing you’re going to need

PLUS ONE

Days. Weeks. It's been a topic in the media for months. Daniel and you haven't had a rest because no one wanted to fucking tell Daniel if he still had a job or not. You've skipped the days to spend time with Daniel. Not a single day passed without you tailing him. You're not quite sure how he would be if it wasn't for you ready to catch him.

On the day of the Singapore race, there's nothing on his face. He's gloomy as his entire body has all of the joy sucked out of him. Daniel isn't… Daniel isn't himself, but at the same time, this has been the most truthful he has ever been.

You think that he knows even a slight idea. Still, he doesn't tell you. But you know it from when he tells you to go back home first, go back to the hotel and prepare for a nice break just before Austin. The smile on his face was too pained to be real.

Daniel is found out on the starting line, just in front of where he started earlier. You don't think he registers you there until you're sat next to him. “I think Max is going to treat you out soon,” you tell him, startling him from his thoughts. “One extra point. Maybe it's going to be like Abu Dhabi again.”

It was also Daniel who witnessed that monumental moment. Fucking McLaren. “Maybe,” he says, voice cracking, “Maybe he will let me go easy on Padel?”

His eyes are glassy with tears. He's not crying but you see his red cheeks and the tiredness in his eyes. You've seen him at his best that you almost don't know what to do when he's at his lowest. You know him to be always in his best shape.

"Daniel," you pull him in, "it's going to be okay."

You see the exact moment he crumbles down. His head falls and you're carrying the weight of Daniel. He sobs into your arms and you want nothing but to wrap him until he feels safe. “It's not over,” he tells himself more than he tells you. “I'm still going to meet them. I still have more to give.”

“I know you do,” you coo, patting his back as he quivers. “You have so much more. It's not the end, Daniel. It's not the end.” 

His body is heavy with all the words being thrown at him the entire season. Washed. Weak. Past his prime. Daniel has been a strong man with how he's carried himself and you for the past year you've been dating. You don't think you've met a stronger man than him.

He goes quiet. You let the silence simmer but you just know his head is full of things. This is going to be the best you're going to do—

“Honestly, the movie we watched wasn't even that sad,” you tell him. He looks up at you, questioning. “I think I was just sad that the father couldn't return to his kid for a few times. Looking back, the plot would've been easily fixed if they had just talked in the beginning.”

He laughs, “You see my point? You're a softie.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

You tell him about the news articles, and the stupidity of journalists who report nothing but celebrity gossip. You tell him about the song you made after your stump, it being the catalyst of your now-fame. When the two of you cried at the airport, both of you laugh from how dramatic you two made it when it was only a month of not seeing each other physically. You two called every day. Moving in was probably the best moment in your life as well. You remember it so well.

He’s not crying but there's worry lines fading from his face still. “I think life is just about ending things,” you tell him, “a movie, a shitty relationship article, a writing block, a long distance relationship, and the past. There's always something more to look forward to.”

You cup his face, smiling up at him as you wipe the remains of his tears. “Hey, we can always go karting together. I'm sure their car is way better than the one you're driving now anyway.”

He laughs. The news comes out quickly and the both of you are in a karting area in New York. You don’t think you’ve seen him happier.

@Delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @rtorresblog @Jamie2305 @nichmeddar @vannylen2144

FOOTNOTE ────── anddd here is another angsty for daniel ricciardo. man i miss him. hope he's having the time of his life but i do NOT want to watch f1 without him this season. ugh

[httpiastri]

jackie!!!!! i should be sleeping i start classes tomorrow but the oscar smut was so good i almost spontaneously combusted 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 ur so good at writing love u bad !!! i hope ur day goes well not sure what time it is where u are 💘💘💘-💪

darling 😭 aren’t you the sweetest 🥺 thank you so much! that means a lot to me!! i’m very glad you enjoyed it, i love u tons 💗💗 how’s first day of classes? are you enjoying it? is it exciting? pls have some oscar arms as motivation to get you through the day 😚😚

[inkskinned]

the thing is that they're so fascinated by sex, they love sex, they can't imagine a world without sex - they need sex to sell things, they need sex to be part of their personality, they need sex to prove their power - but they hate sex. they are disgusted by it.

sex is the only thing that holds their attention, and it is also the thing that can never be discussed directly.

you can't tell a child the normal names for parts of their body, that's sexual in nature, because the body isn't a body, it's a vessel of sex. it doesn't matter that it's been proven in studies (over and over) that kids need to know the names of their genitals; that they internalize sexual shame at a very young age and know it's 'dirty' to have a body; that it overwhelmingly protects children for them to have the correct words to communicate with. what matters is that they're sexual organs. what matters is that it freaks them out to think about kids having body parts - which only exist in the context of sex.

it's gross to talk about a period or how to check for cancer in a testicle or breast. that is nasty, illicit. there will be no pain meds for harsh medical procedures, just because they feature a cervix.

but they will put out an ad of you scantily-clad. you will sell their cars for them, because you have abs, a body. you will drip sex. you will ooze it, like a goo. like you were put on this planet to secrete wealth into their open palms.

they will hit you with that same palm. it will be disgusting that you like leather or leashes, but they will put their movie characters in leather and latex. it will be wrong of you to want sexual freedom, but they will mark their success in the number of people they bed.

they will crow that it's inappropriate for children so there will be no lessons on how to properly apply a condom, even to teens. it's teaching them the wrong things. no lessons on the diversity of sexual organ growth, none on how to obtain consent properly, none on how to recognize when you feel unsafe in your body. if you are a teenager, you have probably already been sexualized at some point in your life. you will have seen someone also-your-age who is splashed across a tv screen or a magazine or married to someone three times your age. you will watch people pull their hair into pigtails so they look like you. so that they can be sexy because of youth. one of the most common pornography searches involves newly-18 young women. girls. the words "barely legal," a hiss of glass sand over your skin.

barely legal. there are bills in place that will not allow people to feel safe in their own bodies. there are people working so hard to punish any person for having sex in a way that isn't god-fearing and submissive. heteronormative. the sex has to be at their feet, on your knees, your eyes wet. when was the first time you saw another person crying in pornography and thought - okay but for real. she looks super unhappy. later, when you are unhappy, you will close your eyes and ignore the feeling and act the role you have been taught to keep playing. they will punish the sex workers, remove the places they can practice their trade safely. they will then make casual jokes about how they sexually harass their nanny.

and they love sex but they hate that you're having sex. you need to have their ornamental, perfunctory, dispassionate sex. so you can't kiss your girlfriend in the bible belt because it is gross to have sex with someone of the same gender. so you can't get your tubes tied in new england because you might change your mind. so you can't admit you were sexually assaulted because real men don't get hurt, you should be grateful. you cannot handle your own body, you cannot handle the risks involved, let other people decide that for you. you aren't ready yet.

but they need you to have sex because you need to have kids. at 15, you are old enough to parent. you are not old enough to hear the word fuck too many times on television.

they are horrified by sex and they never stop talking about it, thinking about it, making everything unnecessarily preverted. the saying - a thief thinks everyone steals. they stand up at their podiums and they look out at the crowd and they sign a bill into place that makes sexwork even more unsafe and they stand up and smile and sign a bill that makes gender-affirming care illegal and they get up and they shrug their shoulders and write don't say gay and they get up, and they make the world about sex, but this horrible, plastic vision of it that they have. this wretched, emotionless thing that holds so much weight it's staggering. they put their whole spine behind it and they push and they say it's normal!

this horrible world they live in. disgusted and also obsessed.

[xuxudio]

[sketch under cut vvv]