#i learned this shit the hard way. and learning is different than internalizing

[chappydev]

I don't really think they're like, as useful as people say, but there are genuine usecases I feel -- just not for the massive, public facing, plagiarism machine garbage fire ones. I don't work in enterprise, I work in game dev, so this goes off of what I have been told, but -- take a company like Oracle, for instance. Massive databases, massive codebases. People I know who work there have told me that their internally trained LLM is really good at parsing plain language questions about, say, where a function is, where a bit oif data is, etc., and outputing a legible answer. Yes, search machines can do this too, but if you've worked on massive datasets -- well, conventional search methods tend to perform rather poorly.

From people I know at Microsoft, there's an internal-use version of co-pilot weighted to favor internal MS answers that still will hallucinate, but it is also really good at explaining and parsing out code that has even the slightest of documentation, and can be good at reimplementing functions, or knowing where to call them, etc. I don't necessarily think this use of LLMs is great, but it *allegedly* works and I'm inclined to trust programmers on this subject (who are largely AI critical, at least wrt chatGPT and Midjourney etc), over "tech bros" who haven't programmed in years and are just execs.

I will say one thing that is consistent, and that I have actually witnessed myself; most working on enterprise code seem to indicate that LLMs are really good at writing boilerplate code (which isn't hard per se, bu t extremely tedious), and also really good at writing SQL queries. Which, that last one is fair. No one wants to write SQL queries.

To be clear, this isn't a defense of the "genAI" fad by any means. chatGPT is unreliable at best, and straight up making shit up at worst. Midjourney is stealing art and producing nonsense. Voice labs are undermining the rights of voice actors. But, as a programmer at least, I find the idea of how LLMs work to be quite interesting. They really are very advanced versions of old text parsers like you'd see in old games like ZORK, but instead of being tied to a prewritten lexicon, they can actually "understand" concepts.

I use "understand" in heavy quotes, but rather than being hardcoded to relate words to commands, they can connect input written in plain english (or other languages, but I'm sure it might struggle with some sufficiently different from english given that CompSci, even tech produced out of the west, is very english-centric) to concepts within a dataset and then tell you about the concepts it found in a way that's easy to parse and understand. The reason LLMs got hijacked by like, chatbots and such, is because the answers are so human-readable that, if you squint and turn your head, it almost looks like a human is talking to you.

I think that is conceptually rather interesting tech! Ofc, non LLM Machine Learning algos are also super useful and interesting - which is why I fight back against the use of the term AI. genAI is a little bit more accurate, but I like calling things what they are. AI is such an umbrella that includes things like machine learning algos that have existed for decades, and while I don't think MOST people are against those, I see people who see like, a machine learning tool from before the LLM craze (or someone using a different machine learning tool) and getting pushback as if they are doing genAI. To be clear, thats the fault of the marketing around LLMs and the tech bros pushing them, not the general public -- they were poorly educated, but on purpose by said PR lies.

Now, LLMs I think are way more limited in scope than tech CEOs want you to believe. They aren't the future of public internet searches (just look at google), or art creation, or serious research by any means. But, they're pretty good at searching large datasets (as long as there's no contradictory info), writing boilerplate functions, and SQL queries.

Honestly, if all they did was SQL queries, that'd be enough for me to be interested fuck that shit. (a little hyperbolic/sarcastic on that last part to be clear).

ur future nurse is using chapgpt to glide thru school u better take care of urself

[comicaurora]

So uhh. If you feel like talking about it. As someone who lives in the US, how are you being kind to yourself on this upsetting morning <3

Checked in with my loved ones first and foremost.

It's interesting. The vibe I've been getting from my circle is very different from 2016. Much less… dread and horror at a realignment of the understanding of what can and can't happen here, now, in this place and day and age. More "fuck, guys. again? whatever. enjoy your consequences, maybe you'll manage to learn something this time."

Frustration and anger is not the most positive feeling, or even the most fair one to express, but it is a protective one. It hurts a lot less than most alternatives.

And it's quite a shift. It was earthshattering back then. How could this have been allowed to happen? Why couldn't it be stopped? Why couldn't we stop it? Why couldn't I stop it? Why couldn't everyone see what this meant? Why couldn't I make them understand? Did they really not care? What did that mean about humanity as a whole? Were we so thoughtless? How could anyone be trusted?

It seems… much less earthshattering to see it happen twice. Disappointing, sure. Frustrating. But nowhere near as devastating as the first time I saw it unfold. We already knew it could happen. I've already had time to digest the implications. Now I'm just freshly disappointed.

It also feels less indicative of Crushing Truths Of Reality this time. We've seen shit get bad. We've also seen shit get better from here! We know both outcomes are possible, even inevitable. We know hoping for a better future is always worthwhile. This isn't the apocalypse. It's an unremarkably bad turn of events brought on by unremarkably self-centered well-documented human impulses. It's utterly mundane in its unpleasantness. It doesn't need to be dignified with despair.

A democratic election, no matter the outcome or the side we're on, makes us all acutely aware of how outnumbered we are by people whose worldviews and priorities are demonstrably incomprehensible to us. And the first time you get outnumbered, it's a shock. Defeat is haunting. It didn't matter how badly you wanted it; by the very function of democracy, you do not have the power to override greater numbers. (insert electoral college caveat here)

The second time through, I find myself focusing on a different facet that has dramatically reduced the amount of spiralling I'm doing. I don't expect this to work for everyone, but for me specifically, it helped to crystallize a few thoughts:

You don't have the power to control anyone else. You don't. You can't share your worldview and your revelations with them. You can't make them think or understand anything. You can lay it all out for them, but you can't make them listen, and you can't make it click. A mentor can't make their student learn a lesson; that's why teaching is so complicated and hard. An active choice must be made by the person to enable themselves to understand, and they must put the pieces together in their own mind before it makes sense to them, and the pieces must have been presented in a way that makes sense to them in the first place. Lead a horse to water, can't make them drink.

These elections highlight a disconnect in what different groups of people care about; and no matter how clearly you explain yourself or how passionately you perform, caring cannot be forced on someone. Understanding and connection cannot be forced. You cannot make anything or anyone matter to someone. They have to choose to see how it matters in order to internalize it. If they choose not to, that is not your failing. You couldn't have made them do it by just Explaining Better. They are not your responsibility. They make their own choices. You can't reach inside their head and connect the dots for them.

I'm a storyteller. I make stories and put them out into the world. I hope people get something good out of them, but I have no control over what that something is. I want people to be thoughtful and kind and compassionate and hopeful and see themselves reflected in stranges, no matter their differences. I can craft stories that I hope encourage this. But that is the extent of my ability and the extent of my responsibility. I control no-one's actions but my own, and so while I am not having the best day, I am at least content that I am doing what I can, and I am not shattering myself against impossibilities trying to control the things I can't.

Sometimes, people make decisions that I think are really bad. I can't make that not happen. All I can do is try to make decisions that will result in things I think are good. Today, that means checking in on people, and not assigning too much dramatic narrative weight to an ultimately mundane set of unremarkable bad decisions outside of my control. We'll take life as it comes and help each other out when and how we can. Everything else is out of our hands.

[beifong-brainrot]

People will go on about how "Katara's story is a tragedy" because she... ended up marrying the guy she loves, having children and grandchildren which she was always excited about and literally becoming a master waterbender and rising to the top of her field as a healer.

Yes, Katara's story has tragic aspects to it. And there are certainly flaws in how she is written in tlok (Though I will argue that there are actually more issues with how Toph and Zuko are just plopped in there for no reason in later seasons). And her storylines aren't perfect, for example her resolving her trauma around the murder of her mother being more used to prop up Zuko than her own internal turmoil. (Most of TSR is from Zuko's perspective and I hate that actually)

"Katara's story is a tragedy" Why do you have such a hard on for this woman's misery? Let her be happy, man.

You know what gaang girlie's life is an actual onscreen tragedy?

Toph's!

People will fucking downplay Toph's childhood abuse because she wasn't physically hurt, but her childhood was a never ending carousel of abelism, misogyny, neglect and isolation. The way Toph describes her parent's treatment of her as "pressure and pain" is heartbreaking.

Toph's only escape was Earth Rumble and earthbending, but despite her skills, she remained the perfect little lady her parents always wanted her to be. She's never known a different life, and she was only able to be her real self in secret.

And when Toph finally opens up to her parents, when she finally lays her real self bare in front of the people who are supposed to love and care for her?

She is met with what may be, in my opinion, the cruellest rejection in the show.

Despite this, even when Toph runs away, she still cares for her parents' approval. Hell, she's even lured into a trap due to her getting a forged letter from her mom and getting excited because it looked like her mom was finally accepting her.

It's also important to note how determined to be self sufficient and to prove herself Toph is. We can especially see this right after she joins the Gaang, where she refuses to participate in splitting with the rest of the group, insisting on "pulling her own weight". This isn't Toph being a brat, or spoilt, this is her wanting to prove that she can handle herself because people have handled and understimated her her entire life.

Eventually, Toph starts to learn to trust the members of the Gaang and this is a step in the right direction. She's literally making friends for the first time in her life I'm so proud of her.

However, I was genuinely upset when Toph's life changing field trip with Zuko didn't work out. When Toph was trying to connect with Zuko and he blew her off (I'm not blaming him tho they had shit to do), I couldn't help but remember the rejection Toph suffered from Lao.

Post canon, Toph continues to try and prove herself, starting a metalbending school and training new metalbenders.

She also reconciles with her father. Not before Lao disowns he rmultiple times and calls her a rude, ungrateful thing. And while he eventually comes to understand Toph and cherish her, that type of trauma sticks with you.

So it's no wonder really that Toph, someone who went her entire childhood seemingly without even speaking to someone her age, would have trouble forming connections. She has children with two different men, neither of which seem to stick around.

Toph tries to do right by her daughters and gives them the freedom she never got. Sadly, the pendulum swung too far to the other side, since it seems that she started to neglect her daughters, which led to them developing a sleugh of issues of their own.

Toph becomes the cheif of police, which kind of makes sense. Republic City was only slowly emerging as an actual metropolis. Toph took on a role as a protector, and probably as a way to prove herself. But as Republic City grew, Toph probably realised that she became something she hated. A cog in the machine, and started to despise her job.

Searching for a semblance of the freedom and happiness her travels afforded her in her childhood, Toph leaves the city and takes up the life of a hermit in a swamp. She managed to fix her relationship with Suyin to some extent, but still seems reluctant or simply unable to connect with her daughter or grandchildren. Since she apparently hasn't seen Opal, a grown 20 year old woman since she was a little girl.

On the surface old Toph doesn't seem terribly dissimilar to young Toph, still tough and spunky. But she is more jaded, depressed and pessimistic. She comes out to save Suyin from immediate harm and manages to somewhat reconcile with Lin, but then she fucks right back off to the swamp where she seems to literally hide until Wu and Korra straight up force her to come with them.

Toph's story began with her alone and it seems to end with her alone as well. It's a story of a girl who grew up isolated and handled by others, and was woefully unprepared for the real world, which only jaded her further. She lives with the guilt of fucking up her daughters' lives and a belief in the pointlessness of life.

Toph started off longing to experience the world and ended up willingly isolating herself from it.

If that isn't a tragedy, I'm not sure what is.

Mind you, this is not the trauma olympics. I'm not saying that Toph has suffered more than Katara or that Katara's trauma is not as valid as Toph's. Katara and Toph's experiences are completely different, Katara being a victim of genocide and war, Toph being a victim of child abuse. I'm just saying that, objectively, Katara had a happier 'ending' than Toph.

[corkinavoid]

For @mysterious-messages, to 'Bless the child' by Nightwish

DPxDC Long Time No See

The crow was incredibly persistent. Which, of course, made it ten times more annoying in John's opinion, because he was trying very, very hard not to pay attention to the pitch-black bird with blood red eyes that was perched right outside the window.

Can't he have one single night where no impossibly powerful force of nature interrupts his attempt to drown himself in liquor? Honestly.

The crow knocks on the window again. Three perfectly timed knocks; this bloody bird sure knows how to draw attention, but it also definitely knows Constantine is avoiding it. Which is why it's insisting on making itself a nuisance, no doubt.

To be fair, John is not even entirely sure who's crow is it. Morpheus has a crow at his disposal, but his crow is a bitch. He wouldn't have simply sat on the windowsill and enjoyed annoying Constantine for the sheer spite of it. Death has her crows as well - very thematic, if you ask John - and then there was that one asshole raven that claimed itself belonging to Apollo.

And then, of course, there was-

Actually, maybe he should see what the crow wants. Might be important, after all.

Constantine sighs and puts his whiskey back on the bar before standing up. The world tilts to the side a bit - he might have had a few too many drinks, yeah. But then maybe it's just the side effect of the messenger crow being here, who knows. Constantine would rather put his money on the latter for the sake of his dignity. Not that he has much of that left.

He makes his way to the window, looks at the crow for a long moment, making his last internal debate obvious, and then opens the window.

"The hell do you want?" He asks, but quickly realises it was in vain.

He is not at the bar anymore.

Instead, he is standing in the middle of a graveyard, surrounded by tombstones, fog, and eerie silence. 4/10 on the creepy effect, John has definitely seen this shit done better.

The cloaked figure sitting on the nearest tombstone stays silent, watching him with unblinking, blood red eyes. John sighs again, pinches the bridge of his nose, and reaches into the pocket of his trenchcoat for cigarettes. If he ended up out of the bar anyway, he might as well use it for a smoke break.

"I'd rather you not," the cloaked being says, not a demand but a request by the sound of it. Constantine grimaces, but puts the pack back in the pocket. Arguing with this one will get him exactly nowhere.

"What's this all about, then?" He vaguely gestures around himself, at all the death, decay, and other things that start with the letter 'D'. "I never knew you're into this kind of thing. Very Mary Shelley of you," he raises an eyebrow.

The being - the Dead God, the Ghost of Time, Clockwork, Chronos, and any other name he likes calling himself - huffs a deep, low and breathy laugh. Then, he stands up, his feet firmly planted on the ground for once. He looks different to how John is used to seeing him, all sharp edges and monochrome colors, shiny leather oxfords and loose sleeves with tight cuffs.

Honestly, he kind of reminds Constantine of vampires. He really hopes this is not actually some kind of a new kink of his because John so didn't count on that kind of night. Despite what he's said before.

"No," Chronos shakes his head, his appearance shifting from young to middle-aged. Constantine blinks; if there's anything he learned about the Dead God through their various get-togethers, it's that his age usually reflects his level of seriousness.

But he doesn't have time to ask, nor does he get a moment to prepare, when a child, a literal goddamn child no older than ten steps out from behind Clockwork.

It looks like a boy, dressed in jeans and a blue hoodie with a NASA logo on it, and- He does look like Clockwork. Same pale skin, same eerie, unblinking eyes, same unearthly air around him.

Only, his eyes are a faint blue, like ice and winter skies. Like Constantine's eyes.

The unholy fuck. And he means it literally.

"Is that-" he starts, his throat suddenly dry, pointing his finger at the boy before he even thinks about it, but the Ghost of Time laughs again, a dirty grin on his lips.

"Yours? No, thank the Ancients," he says, making sure to sound just a tad bit offended even if John can see the mirth on his face. Bloody wanker. Constantine lets out a slow, loud breath through his nose.

"Amen to that," he agrees and looks at the kid again. And, as soon as the initial shock wears off, a sneaking suspicion starts to form in his mind. He narrows his eyes. "I don't want to ask, I really don't, but I'm going to anyway. Why?"

Clockwork's face looks distant for a moment, his features shifting into old.

"A child blessed by time has no home in his own life. A child blessed by death has no place among others," he says, and John hates when they speak in riddles, but he thinks he might be getting this one right. "I am only loved when I'm gone, the moments being held dear in memory. But a child does not deserve that," Clockwork's voice sounds almost sad, and, while John does understand it's supposed to be a metaphor, it doesn't feel like one.

But then, he is the Time itself. Maybe for him it's not really a metaphor.

He looks back to the kid, and catches the boy looking away with a grimace. Seems like they have at least one thing in common - they both hold a great distaste to Cronos' solemn way of talking.

Constantine is so going to regret this, but he knows where the Dead God is leading.

"Yeah, okay," he rubs his face with one hand, and, before he has time to ask or say another word, the whole graveyard is gone, and he is standing back in the bar, the low murmur of nightly crowd and warm light around him. Just like before he opened the window to the blood-eyed crow.

The only difference between then and now is the kid standing by his side, looking at him like John is the stupidest man he'd ever seen. Oh, he is already regretting this.

Constantine drops his hand down and goes back to the bar, where he left his drink.

"Want a beer?" He asks, and the kid rolls his eyes, trailing after him.

"I'm twelve," he deadpans, and, yeah, okay, he's got a point.

Fuck it, he is calling in a favor from Bats. That man has, like, twenty kids, he should have some parenting advice.

~•~•~•~

Yeah, the song really reminded me of Clockwork for some reason. Why am I loved only when I'm gone? is really stricking me as a line written for him because you only cherish the time after it's gone, you smile at your memories and pictures, but you rarely ever pay attention to it in the moment.

Also, I did my best with the Gothic aesthetic there, and here's the additional vibe.

Clockwork, just dropping a random ass kid on his occasional one night stand and vanishing into the night, knowing that John Constantine has a soft spot for kids and won't just fuck off to who knows where: it's for the greater good the better timeline

Danny, left alone with a clearly too drunk to think magician whose soul looks like a jigsaw puzzle: the fuck it's not

[myhornysaga]

mmmm what is that certain incident... do graves and lawyer reader have kids ?? Or.... 👀 👀mmmmmm im watching from the shadowzzz

𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝

A/n: thank you for reading my work anon♡ the secret will be revealed, stay tuned

I'm planning on this chapter be divided in two parts so this is part 1 of this chapter. Songs recommended, in order: people in the front row, end of beginning, angel of the morning.

Tags: mdni, graves x Lawyer wife reader, established relationship, mentions of sex, pregnancy.

Part 2, Series masterlist , M.list

You and Graves had a kid.

A daughter.

She was born with the best of you and your husband Phil.

Just after a year of being married you discovered you were pregnant. Thanks to the little rendezvous the night before your husband was leaving for his 364 days deployment in the middle east.

He was in Marines back then and you worked as a full time criminal lawyer at your father's Firm, one of the three top Law firms specializing in International Laws and Extradition.

You were learning international criminal law under one of the most recognizable lawyers and a dear friend of your father, Mona De La Sierre.

Everything was going smooth, your career was at peak and you were only in your late 20s, till you discovered...

You have missed your periods for 2 months.

At first you had your doubts, no way you could be pregnant right? But its been 2 and half months since you and Phil had- no! Lets not have false hope. A simple pregnancy test will reveal whatever it is!

You sat on the toilet seat of the housing quarter. You had done 3 pregnancy tests and they all came... positive.

And it started.

You couldn't believe you were pregnant. You wanted scream and yell out of happiness and let everyone know Mr and Mrs Graves are having a kid!

You wanted the first person to know about this to be none other than the perpetrator! You couldn't just wait to call him. But you had to wait because you can only call him at night due to different time zones.

Despite staying awake past midnight and 14 calls, none were answered. You tried one last time before giving up and call next day.

The 15th call was answered by someone else.

"Hello? Phil? Babe?", you asked nervously.

"Hello?" The voice said

"Ahem... I'm trying to reach Sergeant Phillip Graves. I'm his wife is he there?" You questioned on the line.

"Uh no maam im sorry but the Sergeant will not be available for four weeks."

"4 weeks? You gotta be kidding me!", you huffed in frustration.

"Thats what im told Mrs Graves."

--------------------------------------------------

4.5 weeks later.

Location: Marines Reconnaissance Base in [Redacted]

Sergeant Graves had returned to the base after leading a successful Recon mission without any casualties.

"Sergeant!" A marine called out for Graves in his tent, "sir you have a letter from home"

"Just in time", he chuckled as he sat down on his bed after a long and hard few weeks, finally resting on a proper bed instead of a dug out pit.

"The envelope looks big. Look out Graves, this could be divorce papers" one his teammates joked.

"Yeah totally. Chicks throw you divorce paper if you don't talk to em in every two hours. Haha", another one joined in

"Nah boys i don't think its that.", Philip tried to convince.

"Thats what captain Jerome said", another one jumped in and everyone started laughing. While Graves just shook his head while chuckling along and opening the envelope and started reading it.

He stood up straight out of shock, letter still in hand.

"Told ya its them divorce papers", the guys said.

"What is it Graves?", one of them asked in a serious tone now.

Everyone could still see the absolute shock on the Sergeant's face.

His heart was racing out of excitement, "Holy shit boys, im gonna be a father!", Graves said to his teammates.

Everyone in the tent started congratulating him and hugging the man. Some quipped with the question whether the kid is his or- Graves wouldn't let them finish and just hand them the DNA papers, solidifying his paternity.

The letter,

"My love, i hope you are doing well. I tried to reach you several times through call but i was informed that you are not available for 4 weeks.

Its an awful long time to wait to let everyone know. But remember this, i want YOU to be the first to know of this, that you are going to be a FATHER soon!

I checked in with the doctors and its confirmed! I am 3 months in. By the time you arrive, we'll be a family of three my bub.

And before you or your jarhead boys start questioning the legitimacy of OUR child, i will be attaching DNA tests as well, have fun.

So thats that. You are going to be a dad Phil! You better come back in one piece!

With love and warm hugs

Y/n L/n Graves xo".

.

Part 4

[sinisterexaggerator]

Final Straw

Nick Valentine x Fem Reader | Ao3

Summary: You're sick to death of listening to people insult and belittle Nick; you take matters into your own hands, much to the Synth's surprise, but your methods are a little bit unorthodox.

Warnings: None, except for blood, violence, and foul language. NICK GETS SUPER PISSED AT YOU, and you also share a kiss. 💋

IT'S FLUFF.

Notes: This is SELF-INDULGENT AF. I hate it when people insult Nick in the game. This is my way of getting them back! And I want to kiss him and tell him I love him so bad. ;-:

Word count: 2k

It was the final straw, the one that broke the brahmin’s back, Nick Valentine left to defend himself against hate and bigotry for the umpteenth time, and you would not be party to it.

For so long you had traveled by Nick’s side, learning of the many facets to his personality. If there was a single thing about him you did not like, it had to be the ease with which he practiced self-deprecation, not knowing how to remedy the awful perception he had about himself.

Oftentimes, he regurgitated what came out the mouths of others; it had been internalized, compartmentalized, processed, and stored in his long-term memory, the detective unable to let things go—just like so many cases that remained unsolved.

“Shit, a Synth— don’t come near me. What a freak, thinks he’s human…”

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t go near you if it meant tomorrow I’d wake up from this nightmare.”

Your soul ached, knowing that every insult, every snide remark caused some level of psychic damage to your partner, his expressions all too readable for those times he was robbed of his fragile dignity, though always walking away the bigger man.

A culmination of varying factors led you to this, Nick’s tragic past haunting not only himself, but you; what you wouldn’t give to make it better, only wishing you had the power to convince him he was worth more than half the Commonwealth combined.

If Valentine could equate himself to nothing more than garbage, you could be the one to remind him that someone else’s trash was frequently another’s treasure— in this case, he was yours.

Though not privy to your feelings, you adored Nick completely. So much so, you were not above engaging in a physical altercation on his behalf.

“Say that again,” you threatened scathingly, turning to face the asshole who had just dared to disrespect your companion, and for no good reason.

“I said he’s a freak, lady—and what’s a pretty thing like you doing traveling with him, anyway?” the ill-mannered caravan guard asked, acting as if Valentine was some disease he could catch, making a blatant show of his disgust. 

The hired gun pulled no reaction from the Synth, though Nick stared at you tight-lipped, unnatural, glowing eyes trained hard on your face. His silence spoke volumes, instructing you with a stern look beneath the shade of his hat to drop the matter and turn the other cheek—it was something you weren’t willing to do this time, meeting your newfound enemy head-on.

“Apologize!” you demanded, shoving your adversary backward with a forceful push, both your palms making contact with his ribs. Your cheeks burned, accompanying a rise in your temper, readying yourself for if this vermin should do anything but grovel at Nick’s feet.

“Forget it, this guy ain’t worth it,” Nick offered laconically, hoping to appeal to your common sense. “I’ve heard worse in my time; being called a freak is the least of my concerns.”

“But you’re worth it!” you protested, Valentine’s forehead arcing upward at the conviction in your voice. He had a momentary lapse, his concentration faltering as he tried to get a handle on the situation, Nick having visualized an entirely different outcome based on variables that were currently in flux—namely the sudden change in your mood.

It seemed the shithead had caught on, smarter than he looked, eyeing the two of you with suspicion and derision, as if the very idea you could have feelings toward this hunk of junk was baffling when able-bodied, strong men like him existed.   

“Oh, I get it. You’re real sick, lady, a real pervert—you fucking a machine? What’s the matter, human men aren’t good en—”

The jerk was cut off mid-sentence, your balled up fist coming into contact with his jaw; a resounding crack split sound waves as blood spurted from his lips. His colleagues had already wandered off down the road, not wanting to be a part of whatever trouble he had found himself in, having silently agreed to let this member of their team fend for himself.

“You fucking bitch!” the guard twice your size growled, swinging wildly only to miss. Your leg extended; you were pleased when he stumbled, only wishing he had fallen flat on his face.

“Now, wait a—”

He was quick to right himself, spinning on the ball of his heel—you were quicker, kneeing him in the nuts so hard he doubled over, but you weren’t finished yet.

Lifting your arm to gain momentum, you drove the point of your elbow into his spine, causing the offender to drop onto the dirt at your feet.

“I'd say he's down for the—”

Nick couldn’t get a word out; you didn’t appear to be listening, the android observing your uncharacteristic actions with rapt concern. You were pounding your knuckles into the bastard’s nose repeatedly, sticky crimson coating your fist and the man’s sorely wounded face.

As if coming to from a trance, Valentine whisked forward, snatching your wrist before you could cause the poor schmuck any more damage, thinking he may look worse off than even he, what with his bare wires and metal frame exposed to the elements.

“Hey! What’s gotten into you?!” Nick barked, his tone alone condemning your inappropriate conduct, the Synth yanking you up so fast you audibly gasped.

“There ain’t no excuse for this—this guy may be a jackass, but that doesn’t mean he deserves to die!” Nick protested, brows knit in anger the likes of which you had never seen.

You glanced down, only now seeming to notice the extent of his injuries; the man was out like a light. You only cared because he did.

“Nick, I—” you began, voice quavering, losing all resolve as you had been forced to witness Valentine’s sweet disposition vanish, quickly replaced by something undeniably frightening.

You never once imagined yourself to be the victim of his choler, finding you absolutely hated it, breaking down all at once to cry despite not meaning to. You felt simultaneously overwhelmed by guilt and embarrassed beyond measure, unable to look him in the eye.

“Don’t Nick me, this isn’t like you, this—” The man froze, his grip slackening as he loosely held on, thoroughly confused by how you could go from nearly murdering a man in cold blood with your bare hands, to shedding tears in the span of under a minute; he moved to grasp you by your shoulders.

“What’s going on?” he asked, perplexed, the question dry on his tongue. He searched your face for any hint of what the matter was, wondering if you’d lost a screw sometime after leaving Diamond City, as he thought he had a handle on how you operated.

You could not will yourself to respond, vision clouded, droplets pelting your cheeks as you gazed at the ground. You felt worse than a scolded child; you had never meant to upset him so, it being decidedly more terrible than any physical pain you had yet to endure.

“Look at me, damn you!” Valentine demanded, gently jostling you back to the present moment, though your tears only increased, Nick having never cursed at you before.

“Valentine,” you whispered, eyes shimmering, Nick’s fury subsiding to a dull roar as he waited for you to explain yourself. The crease of his brow evened out, the Synth notably more relaxed, though he did not trust you wouldn’t lash out again.

“Go on,” he urged sharply, wanting to get to the bottom of your behavior. It was unnerving, not knowing what else you were capable of at the drop of a dime.

It was an understatement to say that he was surprised when you lifted your arms, pulling the man forward to enfold in your tight embrace. You buried your cheek in the tattered, stained fabric of his coat, crying more softly now as it started to rain.

“Don’t listen to them,” you pleaded, “don’t ever listen to them. You’re perfect just the way you are,” you spoke with earnest, your lips pressing a tender kiss to the spot that lacked a heartbeat, though the gesture stood apart on its own.

“I can’t stand it—the way people treat you, the way they talk down to you—if only they knew—if only they could see what I see—” you sobbed, the sound of your cries muffled against his chest; it was firm, his shirt smelling like coolant and ozone—cigarettes mixed with something earthy—you breathed in deeply, overcome with silent relief when Nick placed his metallic hand on the crown of your head.

“I... I appreciate you, doll,” he started, his voice turning toward a soothing cadence, the way he pet your hair in long, slow strokes comforting you more than it should. “But you didn’t have to do that; would have preferred if you didn’t. Jerks like him get their comeuppance, but it shouldn’t be at the price of dirtying your hands.”

You had never been this intimate with him, nor had you ever planned to be—his words were unscripted, and his affection given of his own volition. You curled in tighter, nuzzling your way into the crook of his good arm, wanting to entomb yourself there for all eternity.

“I’m sorry,” you offered apologetically, feeling the pressure of Nick’s own arms around you, returning your hug, making you feel as if you could die happy at this moment, not minding in the least that there was an unconscious, bleeding man lying only a hairbreadth away. “It hurts me, like I know it hurts you.”

Nick was quiet, mulling over the fact it didn’t do you or him any good to disparage his own person when there were others to do it for him. He had never considered the effect it might have on those around him; it came naturally to want to harp on his own shortcomings—or had it come natural to the real Nick? That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it.

“You’re right, it does. But I shouldn’t let it bother me, not when I have people like you by my side.”

“I love you, Valentine,” you countered, not recognizing the softness of your own voice. You felt a shift beneath you, your head being coaxed to rise by way of a slow tilt of your chin.

Nick stared down at you, gleaming, golden eyes emoting dolefully as he gazed into yours. He held a deep-seated sorrow, not only for you, but for himself, wishing that he was human, if only so he could touch you, hold you, kiss you the way he wanted to.

“That’s not the smartest thing you’ve ever said, but I take it you mean that,” Valentine replied, bending low to brush soft, silicone lips across yours of flesh and blood; they were cool and rough in texture, but not unpleasant. The fact he was kissing you at all was a dream come true.

“With all my heart,” you replied, cupping the Synth's battered cheek in the bowl of your palm, fingers trailing over artificial skin in a light caress.

“So, that’s what this was all about,” he remarked, conjuring up a smile. “You know, I’d give you mine,” he added solemnly, his glum tone indicative of something he was not telling you.

Instead of elaborating, Nick changed the subject, always one to brighten a dark mood. “Next time, just tell me what’s on your mind instead of beating the living daylights out of some poor schmo, all right?”

You managed a smile of your own, delighting in his sarcasm, glad for the fact your confession had taken a lighthearted turn. “I can’t make any promises,” you quipped.

The detective gave a small shake of his head, that lopsided, infectious grin of his spreading up one side of his face. “Taking a page out of my book, are you?”

“I learned from the best,” you breathed, kissing him once more. Though selfish of you, for all you cared, the world could undergo another nuclear war, and you wouldn’t bat a lash, not for as long as you had your funny Valentine.

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR FIFTEEN

in which Eddie learns what it means to be honest, and you learn that some answers can only lead to more questions.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 4.7k+

→ a/n: this chapter is my enemy. that's all. all the homies hate this chapter for the hell it gave me both in writing it and posting it

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

15:00 ────────ㅇ─────── 24:00

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

You were so caught up in your own disappointment, you never saw the flash of recognition that crossed Eddie’s face. Only the anger that followed.

“Is that the dude who stood you up?” 

His voice is weak as he asks the question, a breath that barely reaches your ears as you jump at the unexpected proximity. 

“What?” you spin around to face him, “Jesus Christ, why are you creeping over my shoulder at my phone? Trying to see who else doesn’t follow me on Instagram?” 

He cringes at your bitter tone, all the vodka you’ve turned to venom in your hurt, “You didn’t answer my question – is that him?” 

“Why do you care?” 

It’s the short version of the real questions binding you. A million different threads of confusion, and each one constricts you tighter than the last, all of them tangling together in the confusion. 

Why do you care when you dislike me so vigorously? Why do you care when you’ll only use my answer as ammunition against me? Why do you care to hurt me so badly tonight? Why do you care if Nancy and I are friends? Why do you care to point out how I don’t belong in this group-

“I don’t,” he interrupts your internal panic, pausing the restless twisting of anxious twine. 

You take a deep breath, you let your eyes wander over him, taking him in. He’s ditched the soft-spoken act, his voice coming out powerful finally. The confidence is almost overdone; he sounds as if he’s trying to make up for something not there. 

You crave for distance to be put between the two of you, but he makes no move to step away as you ask, “Then why do you keep asking me?” 

You can’t begin to understand him, completely unsure of where to ever start with the task. He’s a hollow stranger of the man you’d initially met that night in the bar. You’ve seen how he acts with the others, how he treats Nancy like royalty at times and how he’s warm with Argyle. You’ve seen him share joints and laughter alike with Jonathan. It’s hard to miss when he and Steve both begin to get overly passionate about a topic, Robin always finding a way to join in. Eddie is capable of warmth and care, of friendship and genuine love, but not when it comes to you. 

“I was just curious, sue me.” 

“If I had a good lawyer, I would,” you snap back quickly, patience wearing thin. 

It makes him grin – a damn grin. Shit-eating as ever as he replies, “I know a guy if you’d like one,” and he keeps grinning, and you don’t even notice when a line is crossed and that faux glee no longer meets his eyes as he continues,  “Speaking of knowing a guy – do you know the guy on your screen?” 

The threads are twisting again, and the friction is leaving your blood boiling. “Fucking obviously.” 

“Is he the one who stood you up?” 

“Fuck off, Eddie.” 

You can’t handle this right now. You’re drunk – not so drunk you won’t remember the night, but still damn drunk – and you’re overthinking. Letting the threads cut off circulation to your brain, letting yourself only be consumed with overthinking about your place within the group. You don’t even have the capacity to question why Eddie is so persistent in finding out about the bartender who left you looking like a fool the night before; you miss his genuine, burning curiosity and the anger that still broods in him as your anxiety bubbles up. 

Were you and Nancy friends? Maybe Instagram did matter. Surely, she followed everyone else in the group, didn’t she? 

“Why won’t you just answer the question? Why are you so damn stubb-” 

“You don’t care!” you nearly scream, throwing your hands up in defeat, slamming your phone down onto the counter beside you, “You don’t care, you’ve made that clear, so I don’t understand why you need to hear me say it so fucking badly. Why do you need to hear me admit how pathetic I am? We both know where this is going – I say yes, you use it against me, I end up looking like a fool for a second night in a row,” your chest heaves and your eyes burn, but you won’t look at him. You can’t bear witness to him watching you bleed in the middle of Steve’s kitchen, “I’m not doing it. Not tonight.” 

He looks as if you had slapped him. Stunned, aghast, taking a step back to finally give you the space you had so desperately craved. You don’t even really care about it anymore; the damage is done and you’re already spiraling, thanks to him. 

“Do you think so little of me?” 

His voice is small again. Deceptively soft, a treacherous whisper you know you can’t look into. He’s not really hurt. It’s all probably an act, a guise to get you to play into how he wants the night to go. 

“With what you’ve given me to work with?” you scoff, still blinking your eyes rapidly, trying to stave off the waterworks, “Yeah. Yeah, I am starting to think that little of you.” 

“Have you considered I was just trying to be friend-” 

You’re not sure how his sentence is going to end, whether he would claim to be trying to be friendly or trying to be friends. You’re not sure which one makes you more livid.

It’s the second one. “You just mocked me, made me doubt if I had fucking friends all because of Nancy not following me on Instagram. Don’t you dare say you were trying to be friends with me right now.” 

If you were more sober, you would have cursed yourself for blatantly revealing to him that he’d gotten to you. Your wounds were now on display for him, and you stiffened as you realized and awaited the expected handful of salt he’d be rubbing into them. 

We thought he wasn’t going to come, so we invited you instead.

The fight’s only just begun and you’ve already lost – not just this battle, but the entire war.

You know they would choose him. If your friends were given the choice between you two, they’d choose him. And it shouldn’t sting, it’s expected given how long the group has known each other, but Eddie’s animosity towards you has done nothing to soothe the ache stirred by that truth. You would never ask them to choose, you know better, but you’ve always known the answer.

It’s him, not you. 

“I was joking-” 

“No, that was not joking. It wasn’t funny. It was mean.” 

Mean, cruel, ruthless. What Eddie did rings sharply in your chest, in your brain that’s currently running on overtime to process your waves of emotions. The threads are so tight, you expect to see a puddle of blood at your feet on Steve and Robin’s kitchen floor. 

“As if you’re any better,” he sharply laughs in disbelief, shaking his head, “You want to talk about mean? Let’s talk about my date with Chrissy and you’re fucking fiasco.” 

Your stomach drops. The battlefield lurches into uneven ground, because what you did really was unfair. But you had been bitter, and you had been mean, and you had been…. 

You had been jealous. Jealous not of the romance that was honestly leaving much to be desired between him and Chrissy, but that platonic friendship. The kind you had yet to earn from him. The kind you were starting to doubt if you ever had, genuinely, with the rest of the group. 

“I’m-”

“Sorry? Yeah, well, sorry don't make her call me back.” 

This is where, if you were speaking with anyone besides Eddie, you offer a real, genuine apology. 

But you’re speaking with Eddie. You’re burnt out from a long week, your pride still remains wounded, you’re suddenly questioning if you even have any friends, you’re drunk, and you’re speaking with Eddie. 

A genuine apology would be like terrible shards, dredged up your throat and being clung to desperately by your whining pride. You’re bleeding enough as it is without that. 

“My apologies, friend. I am so terribly sorry you weren’t able to get your dick wet.” 

You both deserved what was coming, really. You deserved it. Because suddenly, just as it always ended up between you two, hateful words were exchanged. The worst part isn’t when Eddie snarks about how at least he can get his dick wet, unlike you, nor is it when you spit out how being a slut isn’t something to be proud of. It’s a blur of sharp tongues and jabbing knives, both of you swiping for any which way to make the other bleed. 

It’s the cruelest you’ve been to each other yet, because somewhere below all of the surface-level insults, there’s real pain pulsing there. There’s your bloodied threads of anxiety, wretched thoughts and doubts as to if you should even be in this apartment tonight. There’s something more in the lines that form between Eddie’s furrowed brows as he matches your anger. His volume raises right along yours, and whenever his voice breaks over certain quick-dagger remarks, you don’t look into it. Especially not when it happens as he brings up the bartender again. All the failed dates, as he so kindly reminds you of. 

“For someone who claims to not fucking care, you sure do talk a lot about those ridiculous fucking dates,” you seethe finally. Somewhere in the argument, you’d downed the rest of your drink, leaving an empty glass beside you. 

“Because they prove my point!” he shouts in exasperation, “Because you… you… you can’t take a fucking hint.”

A final thread wraps around your throat. You feel as if you can’t breathe. 

“And what is that hint, exactly?” your tone shakes as you ask it, past anger and past heartbreak. 

Why do you still care what he thinks? Do you still care what he thinks?

The vodka says yes. 

Yet Eddie says no, shaking his head immediately.

“Oh, so now you don’t want to speak your mind?” you hate how vulnerable you are, the lilt of your voice with unshed tears and the crack in your chest that you’re sure he can hear. You want to scream, you want to pound your fists against his chest. You want to throw a proper tantrum, like an absolute child. Like a little kid on the playground who no one wanted to play with, “You had all this shit to say, and now you bite your tongue? Fuck you, Eddie.” 

“You don’t want to actually know,” he says flatly. He’s emotionless, and it burns you even further. Here you are, overflowing your cup with all your emotions, and his well has run dry. Even the tick you had managed to get out of his jaw is gone. All the anger, all the false signs of him actually caring have vanished.

You bite down on your lip, struggling to take a deep breath. Trying to even your anger, to bring yourself down to his level. You’re tired of the uneven battle ground. “I don’t? I never knew you were a mindreader.” 

“Don’t have to be a mindreader to see the way you’re about to burst into fucking tears.” 

You suddenly wish you could take the glass on the counter beside you and just toss it at him, full force. Make him physically bleed as he continues to stab at your pride, your ego, your emotions. 

You’re not even sure he’d bleed at this point. Maybe he’s a fucking robot designed to do nothing but hurt you. 

“Fuck you,” you state plainly as the first tear falls, repeating yourself with a more vindictive tone, “Fuck you. It’s not like you care about my fucking feelings, so just say it.” 

 “Fine,” he’s still so indifferent, still so emotionless, “You’re so dense, you never realize that you’re not wanted. Not by those assholes, not here-” 

It’s your final breaking point. You don’t care to hear the rest of his sentence, temper taking the reins as you reach for the glass beside you. 

You throw as hard as you can. 

You tell yourself it’s dumb luck and bad aim when the glass shatters against the wall behind Eddie and not his shocked face. Not mercy. Not the ghost of hope, evaporating with a whisper of glass shards as the final shovel full of dirt falls upon the grave. You can see it clearly, the gravestone that marks the fresh grave: Here Lies Possibility. Here Lies All That Could Have Been. 

It’s over. Eddie knows it – his emotion finally shows, but you don’t stick around to see it. 

Eddie’s wrong. For once, you see you’re not wanted, and make the choice to leave.

—

HOUR FIFTEEN - 6:00 AM

“It was about you. I got banned because of you.” 

You don’t know how to respond at first. Honesty hangs heavy between the two of you, suffocating in the morning light. 

You asked him for honesty. He gave you honesty.

It should be a celebration, but all it does is build a pit in the bottom of your stomach that threatens to weigh you down to the bottom of his ocean. 

When you finally respond, you enunciate each word carefully, “Eddie. What do you mean?” 

“I got banned. From the bar. Because of you.”

“No, yeah, I gathered that,” you stress, the crease between your brow deepening, “But…. I… elaborate?”

You can hear the cars on the street below, echoing honks and engines thrumming. Songbirds sing in the distance and shops are opening; the entire world surrounding you two is awakening with a long yawn and a gentle stretch. 

Your world feels as though it is coming to a full stop, but life is carrying on. 

“Which part?” he breaths out a humorless laugh, “The part where I got banned, or the part where it was because of you? Because the ban is pretty straight forward – I threw a punch at a guy, he threw a punch back, now I can’t step foot in Fat Tuesday on Mill Ave-”

“The part where it’s because of me, you idiot,” you interrupt him in exasperation, “What the hell do you mean you got banned because of me?” 

Silence. You’re met with silence. 

Maybe honesty has run dry, just like that. 

You search his face and count your luck, at least he admitted this much, before sighing, “Okay. You don’t have to tell me-” 

The honesty comes bursting out of him. The well of it is anything but dry, “It was the bartender that stood you up. He was there that night after our fight, after the party at Steve’s.” 

The bartender. 

You hadn’t thought of that guy in ages, had long since forgotten his name and face since he’d bruised your ego. 

“I…” your voice trails off, unsure and unsteady as you take tentative steps away from the balcony’s railing, “I’m… honored?” 

Honored isn’t quite the right word. You really don’t know how to feel right now. Should you be thanking him, assuming it was in your honor that he started the fight? Or should you press on, test the limits of honesty and figure out if you’re interpreting this entire confession incorrectly? 

Eddie chuckles dryly before he suddenly walks over to one of the two lounge chairs on the balcony, a small table separating them adorned with a crystal ashtray, “That’s all?”

“Should I not be?” Confusion bursts and blooms across your face, and Eddie’s only reaction to it is furrowed brows as he sits down, “I mean, you just told me you not only threw a punch, but took a punch from some dude who stood me up on a first date once. I think at the very least I should be-”

“I expected you to have more questions,” Eddie cuts you off as he taps his carton of cigarettes on the table beside you, more of a habit than a necessity. His knee is bouncing with each tap, an invisible beat you try to track and end up failing miserably before you take the other chair beside him, “You always have more questions.” 

I do, you think immediately, I have a million and one questions I can’t ask.

Each question flurries past you in a blur, and you’re sure if they’re capable of making you dizzy that there’s no way Eddie could handle them all being thrown at him. There’s also a small part of you still terrified that pressing too far will send him running; ask one wrong thing, and Eddie will retreat to his tall, defensive walls, once again separating him from you. Progress, no matter how minimal, is progress. You can’t risk backtracking. 

“Of course I do,” you repay his debt of honesty in a quiet tone, nimbly picking at the hem of his sweatshirt as it brushes your thigh. 

“Then ask them.”

“If I ask you more questions, are you going to shut me out?” 

The entire morning stills. The breeze turns stale, the sounds of the Sunday hustling and bustling seemingly pause. 

You can’t help but look into his big, brown eyes. You try to communicate with a single look, a silent plea for him to please say he isn’t. 

“I won’t shut you out,” he’s hardly louder than a whisper, but that’s enough for you.

You don’t know where to start: Did you punch him because of me? Did he say something first? Did you have an ulterior motive? Did you know about my date with him before that night? Did you guys talk about me?

The final one sparks a chill down your spine, uncomfortable at the thought of Eddie having discussed you with the bartender, having been the one to tarnish the man’s view of you enough to leave you stranded at a restaurant alone. 

Normally, you’d slowly ease him to the point of your actual question. But your patience has vanished as you look at him now, as you watch him under the promise that he won’t shut you out.

“How did you know him before the fight?” 

His lips twitch with a grin, “I was a regular, he was a bartender. Can I make it anymore obvious?” 

“Are you quoting Avril Lavigne to me right now?” you ask, flabbergasted before shaking your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts and move past this joke, “You know what? Forget I asked – so he served you often? Were you…. Were you friendly?” 

“Well, he once took me out behind the bar and kissed me, but he never got around to buying me dinner. Might have been because of my mean right hook, but who knows-”

“Eddie,” Your voice cracks in desperation, “Please, be serious. Just for one minute.” 

It kills you to say it, because part of you is convinced this is a vision of the boy you’ve been chasing after for so long. This is the boy who is best friends with Nancy. This is the boy who is always invited without hesitation to smoke with Jonathan and Argyle. This is the boy that Steve and Robin had ranted and raved about in all those classes before you’d met him. This is the boy you’d met that first night in the bar in brief passing, and had been seeking out ever since. 

A boy who felt like coming home after a long week.

It kills you to tell him to quiet down all the grins and jokes that are making your heart ache in such a terribly peculiar way.

“I’m sorry,” something in you gleams with gratuity when his grin takes it’s time fading, him throwing up his hands in faux defense, his playful tone still woven carefully. He’s not shutting you out. “I can be serious. I- Give me a second. Scout’s honor, I can stop fucking around.” 

“You better,” you jilt, caving into the joking ever so slightly. 

It’s easy to do when he looks at you this way. His eyes sparkle as if the honesty has freed him of some great weight. However he had expected you to react, it wasn’t this way. 

All at once, he has become something brand new to you. You’re in his sweatshirt, barefoot on his balcony as you can still smell his last cigarette lingering in the air, and you wonder if you’ve never considered yourself a morning person because you’ve never experienced a Sunday morning with Eddie. If you had felt his morning light like this before, even in a sleep-deprived haze, you would have certainly enjoyed the early hours sooner. 

“Okay, okay,” he takes a deep breath, forces away the grin you can still see in the crinkles beside his eyes, “To answer your question, no. We weren’t really friends, I didn’t even know his name and I’m pretty sure he didn’t know mine. He just knew my order.”

“Whiskey and coke,” you whisper, pulling a knee up to your chin, resting it and looking at Eddie with unbridled softness. Fifteen hours ago, you couldn’t have known nor cared about his go-to drink.

“Whiskey and coke,” he confirms. It’s in the pull of his lips – he’s fighting another smile, feeling just as soft as you are at the way you’ve learned something new about him, “Not that it’s hard to remember. Definitely easier than an amaretto sour.” 

“Amaretto sours are not hard to remember,” you shake your head ever so slightly, chin slipping and lips dragging across the skin of your knee. Eddie’s eyes waste no time focusing on the movement, “Okay. So you two weren’t really friends, that’s good to know. I guess my next question would be, was he working that night?” 

Eddie leans forward, elbows pressing into the tops of his thighs, “Are you asking if I’m badass enough to storm into a bar and throw a punch at the bartender on duty to defend your honor?” 

His words paint quite the picture for you. “Did you?”

“No. Lower your expectations of me, please.” 

It takes everything in you to not just throw your head back in laughter, having to settle on giggles suffocated against the skin of your knee still. You wrap your arms around your shin tightly, keeping your leg folded up into you as you shake with the soft laughter. 

“Okay, one last question - who threw the first punch?” you sigh. The image of how fearful Eddie had looked when he’d first admitted to this entire ordeal is silly now. You already know the answer to this question, he wouldn’t have been so nervous to tell you if he hadn’t been the one instigating the entire thing, but you ask it to humor the two of you. 

It’s a good distraction from the buds and blooms alike, all awakening along your vines. The vines don’t feel so constricting anymore. As a matter of fact, you think you’re able to recognize their beauty for the first time. Verdant greenery lined with splashes of reds, of violets, of yellows that are almost the same brilliant shade of gold that his eyes seemingly flash every time the sun hits them just right. 

“I did,” he answers just as you expected. He also shrinks into himself, just as you had also expected, “I just saw him there, and- actually, I don’t know if this next part is just an insult to injury but I…” he trails off, not taking a single breath as he meets your gaze. You’re sure he’s searching for anger, for repulsiveness, for hurt. He’ll find none. You only nod your head and encourage him to keep going, “Okay, he was there on a fuckin’ date, sweetheart. A date, the night after he stood you up. So I just…I just decked him. And honestly? I don’t regret it. He deserved it.” 

When he’s finally finished spilling his guts, you’re left fighting a grin and an overflowing chest of blooms. He’s flushed and nervous and goddamn it, he beat the shit out of some dude in your honor. You should scold him or be more upset, but you only start laughing again. 

“Why are you laughing?” Eddie scrunches up his face, continuing to lean forward, almost as if trying to get closer to you, “Seriously, what’s so funny about that?” 

You’ve thrown your head back in delight now, just as you had wanted to earlier, and release your hold on your leg as it falls back down from your chest, “Jesus Christ, I wish I could have seen that in person.” 

Eddie’s stunned. But you mean it – if your heartbroken self from six months ago had witnessed that, you would have considered Eddie your best friend immediately. This entire feud would have been cut six months short just from one simple punch. 

“I’m sorry,” you gasp out, desperately trying to compose yourself once more, “I really shouldn’t condone violence. I just – man, I cried over that guy. A whole month of those stupid, cheesy, ‘good-morning-beautiful’ texts, and he had just left me hanging, y’know? I mean, I’m sure he’s not a bad person-”

“No,” Eddie interrupts, smiling right along with you, “No, as far as we should be concerned, he’s a fucking asshole. Fuck defending him, we’re never going to see him again anyways.” 

 We’re never going to see him again. 

Eddie probably has no idea what he’s done, referring to the two of you as a joint unit for the first time in a future tense, but it makes you ache all over. That heartache and warmth you felt for him is no longer secluded to just your chest; you feel it from your toes all the way to your scalp, traveling and leaving kisses of goosebumps in its trail. A sudden yearning floods your entire nervous system, the entire roadmap of your heart and your veins and your arteries – you like the image of you and Eddie, Eddie and you, still being a resemblance of a pair beyond just these measly twenty four hours. You like to imagine being able to call him up out of boredom some time next week. You like the thought of him joining on bar crawls with you and the girls. You like the thought of spending every Sunday morning with him from here on out. 

Some of those are reasonable. Some of those aren’t. The yearning rushes through you all the same. 

“Yeah,” you agree softly, “We’re never going to see him again. Fuck him.” 

Eddie hums and leans back in his chair, finally beginning to relax, leaving you a moment to reflect. 

He was telling the truth, he had been honest; he had gotten banned from a bar for you. He’d seen the bartender who stood you up, and he’d decided to defend your honor. Even after that night. Even after that fight. Even after the glass you had thrown. 

Even after the cruel words he had said. 

The yearning stops in its tracks, coming to a rough halt as you glance up at him sharply. 

Even after the cruel words he had said, even after claiming you weren’t someone who was wanted, he’d defended you. 

“You know what?” he suddenly says, but your mind is still whirling and you can only hum in response, “I kind of like honesty. I sort of dig it,” you wish you could muster up more than a smile as he boyishly grins at you, “What else do you wanna know? Hit me, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. The yearning rushes past the floodgates, the pink strikes your cheeks, the ache rings out from the very hollows of your bones. 

You know what you really want to ask him can’t be answered right now. Because even with the change in him, the one that weakens your knees and has you wishing for things in the future, he was still once the man from that night. He still once made you bleed, made you cry. And even if he’s apologized, and you know he means it, it can’t erase that fact. 

And it worries you. Because as all the feelings swell in your chest, you’re left with yet another unanswered question. 

Why would you defend me after that fight?

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @amira0303 @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @tlclick73 @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

taglist is now closed.

[mintyeggs]

DUMPSTER ARTHUR LORE

My version of Arthur Lester, or I guess now he's officially going to be known as dumpster Arthur (sorry man), has essentially the same storyline up until the Dreamlands, where the slight canon divergences start, culminating in the deal made with Kayne in Addison, with a very different "catch" as payment for John's return.

This is a bit of a long one, so click the readmore!

CW: cannibalism, autocannibalism, self harm, starvation, all canon typical shit

Starting with the prison pits in the Dreamlands!

Instead of giving in to killing and eating Faust after learning about what he'd done, Arthur held out a little longer by eating bits of himself. He has bite scars on his right arm and his legs, all avoiding the parts of himself that John can feel.

John was not exactly psyched about Arthur having to do this, especially because it takes a lot out of his friend; not just physically. He even tried offering Arthur his arm instead so the poor guy wouldn't feel it, but Arthur adamantly refused, because he'd already bitten John once before (their pinky) and was pretty horrified at how right it felt to have flesh between his teeth.

He doesn't talk to John about that, though, especially while they're still fighting about John's outburst about Faroe. John remains relatively in the dark about Arthur's internal struggle eating human flesh, even his own, since it's kind of hard to tell if he's feeling more fucked up than usual given their situation.

The altercation with Faust ends up pretty much the same way, Arthur broke and attacked him, forcing John to relive his death while he ate. John does start to notice something is off with Arthur psychologically at this point, though he assumes it's because Arthur has just killed and eaten someone for the first time.

They also do not talk about this because Arthur refuses (mostly out of shame and fear that John will think he's a monster haha)

Given how long Arthur was able to hold out before killing Faust, they're in the prison pits for about a month longer than in canon, and upon escape, Arthur doesn't feel the same amount of hope at their future.

Things proceed pretty close to canon at this point, they meet Kayne, they get their shit wrecked by the King, Arthur cuts his own throat, John gives himself up to save Arthur's life, etc etc.

The one big difference here is something the King says to taunt Arthur; he mentions that Arthur has come closer to knowing his form of love than any human ever has, and it has scarred Arthur permanently, even if he doesn't see it yet.

Now, to Addison!

Upon landing in the cabin and calling Kayne, Arthur is presented with a different option; get John back, safe and sound, memories intact. However, when asking about the catch, Kayne says something along the lines of "you'll have your golden boy back, but part of you will forever remain in the pit".

Kayne here just kind of wants to fuck with Arthur and watch him like a TV show, so this is more entertainment than anything power-seeking; Nyarlathotep (who I assume Kayne actually is) delights in cruelty and causing madness. Note, Kayne doesn't actually do anything to Arthur here, he's just kind of exacerbating Arthur's self doubt about his own humanity and sanity. No worse enemy than one's own mind, after all.

Kayne also does inform Arthur that John is in the Dark World! This obviously sways Arthur's decision quite a bit, and he immediately agrees to Kayne's terms, even assuming part of himself would be sent back to the prison pits, John not being alone in the Dark World is worth it to him.

Some of the main consequences to this decision!!

Arthur isn't really able to come to terms with John intrinsically being a part of the King in Yellow, and neither is John!

Arthur still very much views John as something that never was and can never be the King in Yellow, so he holds him to those standards, making some of their fights while in Addison have a different flavor to them.

In the same vein, John isn't able to have that "aha" moment of accepting his past as part of him, instead continuing to fight tooth and nail against the things he thinks are something the King would do.

As such, when Arthur snaps again and attacks Larson, and starts his descent towards bedrock in the mines under Addison, John is much harsher towards him, starting to see Arthur as the monster the King in Yellow is.

This culminates in Arthur killing Uncle, where another big problem makes itself apparent; the smell of blood makes Arthur painfully hungry, and he realizes this is what Kayne meant when talking about the part of him left in the pits.

Arthur reverts to his old habit of satiating his hunger here, and John sees him bite himself again, this time as a form of self-harm and what Arthur thinks is due punishment for becoming a monster, and they have their heart to heart about reaching bedrock.

John definitely knows something is up at this point, and is quick to reassure Arthur that they'll kill Larson, but they need to save the people of Addison first, if only to prove to Arthur that he's not the monster that either of them thought he was. John also comes to the realization that he might've been the cause for all of this; he remembers how the King said that knowing his love had scarred Arthur permanently.

So, after freeing Addison, John's main focus becomes separating them again, but this time it's for Arthur's own sanity. They do learn about the order of the fallen star, which John thinks is a better lead for separating them than searching for Anna Stanzyck.

That leaves us where most of my drawings of Dumpster Arthur are set timeline wise! They're in New York, grappling with Arthur's growing hunger and self-harm habits and finding a way to separate them, something Arthur is getting less and less willing to do, given as John is pretty much the only thing holding him together now.

I'm working on a comic about them finding a vessel for John, the construct body built by a fringe cult worshiping Hastur. This essentially is just an anchor for John, while he's still bound to Arthur, that body does give him autonomy and allows him to project without causing Arthur any stress (beyond emotional).

All of this is kind of subject to change, but a couple people in the tags of some of my art pointed out how interesting it is to focus on Arthur becoming more of a monster, something I definitely am going to explore a bit :^)

As a reward for finishing reading my very long brain vomit dump, have some fun(ish) Dumpster Arthur facts!

he wears a trench coat way too big for him because he thinks it makes him look bigger and more intimidating. john does not have the heart to tell him it just makes him look like a really sad wet cat

john takes on a bit more of a caretaker role for arthur when they reach new york! part of learning his own humanity comes with caring for someone else the way Lily cared for them in the hospital.

arthur also does have some nerve damage at this point in his right arm, so he does kind of twitch and shiver like a chihuahua when it gets particularly bad

john and arthur create a version of asl meant for one-handed signing, though it's rather hodge-podge to anyone who signs traditional asl. this allows john to communicate without arthur translating (noel has a bit of trouble reading the signs at first but learns quick) and also allows arthur to communicate silently with john.

[seb-reads31]

Hello! Can i request a oneshot of angel dust x touch starved !male reader? More specifically they get together after angel notices that wow this guy is like the first dude in hell that hasn't been trying to seduce me or use my body and is simply interested to get to know me, later when they get to the kissing part reader almost fucks it all up due to him internally panicking extremely hard since he's never thought that someone would ever want to kiss him

Thanks!

Cautions - the dialog is gonna suck, maybe, we'll see lmao, sexual themes I mean come on it's Angel dust 😭, Valentino, THIS IS A MALE READER FIC, SPOILERS FOR SEASON 1, cursing (it's hell), my shit dialog like usual 🤧 (someone give me tips I'm begging you),

Genre - fluff

Type - oneshot (?) I'm gonna be so honest I have no idea how this is gonna come out but I'll do my best 🙏

Comments- omg, dude, angel is my favorite so thank you 🤧🤧 I'm already in love with this ask lol. This is totally inspired by the song from Cinderella I have no shame. I also need to add to my rules lmao. Not because of you, you're doing great, drink some delicious water, eat some good food 😋 (that goes for everyone) but because I don't want anyone asking for specified readers for characters that don't swing that way canonically. It just hit me, and I need to add that lmao

So this is love~

Angel dust always had this facade about him, of his porn star persona. Everyone knows this, and only recently he's gotten out of it. After the war, after Husk breaking him out of his shell, he learned to be less of Angel dust, and more of Anthony.

Obviously, it took more than a few months, but he was feeling like himself, despite having to work for Valentino still. And, you've been helping him, whether you know it or not. Ever since you joined the project to become redeemed before the war, you both had become good friends.

And more recently, boyfriends..

Which shocked everyone to the core. Mostly Angel, to be honest. When he first started talking to you, he had done so with his facade. Using all sorts of innuendos, sneakily asking if you wanted to "get together for a little patty cake" in his room, and general flirting, much like he does did with Husk.

You always got too flustered to respond, but always knew to say no. But, you did try to move past his flirting and ask about him. Not his pornstar persona Angel Dust, no no no, you were asking about Anthony.

And you came to learn that Anthony was the sweetest man ever. While he was still a flirt, he enjoyed baking, romcoms, popsicles (grape flavored specifically), and making pasta! (Don't cancel me I beg of you 🙏)

And you got to know, AND fall in love with these different parts of him. Which includes the parts of him that enjoy non-sexual physical affection. The classic hand holding, hugs, kisses on the cheek or forehead, bunny kisses for sure, which is sending your touch starved ass into overdrive.

He enjoys how flushed your face looks after he gives you a forehead kiss anytime he sees you, or when he randomly grabs your hand to kiss it, looks you dead in the eyes and winks, then goes back to scrolling through his phone as if nothing happened.

However, you have never kissed someone on the lips before. Or had any sort of relationship with this much physical affection that you didn't know you needed, making you crave for more. Specifically, real kisses from Angel.

And you knew Angel would be more than happy to kiss you, but you wanted it to be special, so very special.

But.. Valentino called for Angel. He was having a bad day and needed a "pick me up."

And it just happened to be the exact same day you were going to ask Angel on the date, to ask him to kiss you.

You went looking for your gorgeous spider, finding him on the couch scrolling through his phone like usual. You knew that this was your opportunity to ask him, and off you went!

"Hey Angie, whatcha doing?" You hung on the back of the couch, smiling down at your boyfriend. "Not much, why? You want some attention?~" He teased, slightly patting his lap with one of his upper hands that were behind his head. "Kinda, I was wondering if you wanted to-" RINGGGG, his phone was going off. Angel panicked, seeing that it was his boss. He said a small apology before he jumped off of the couch and running to the corner of the room so you wouldn't hear Valentino's yelling.. as much. He kept nodding, muttering things you couldn't hear, but as soon as the call ended he deflated visibly.

"Shit.. sorry babes, but I gotta go, Val- he uh, needs a little help in the studio!" You knew he was lying, so you wouldn't worry, but you couldn't help it. Not to mention being upset, you had everything planned! "Nah, it's okay Angel, don't worry about it! I'll just.. tell you later."

He nodded then gave you a kiss on the cheek, hurrying out of the hotel to the studio he worked at.

It was the next day when Angel finally got back, hair messy, clothes out of place, and his tired eyes closed as he leaned against the doors, rubbing his face with his upper set of hands, and his lower set wrapped around his waist.

You were coming down from some breakfast, still in your pajamas when you say Angel again. "Angie?" He jumped, having not expected anyone to be up yet as it was Saturday, and Charlie let everyone have a free day from activities these days.

"O-oh! Hey babes, what're you doin up so early? Don't ya normally sleep in on Saturdays?" He was fidgety, nervous. This is how he usually acted after going to the studio, not to mention how much he avoided talking about it. "Yeah, I guess. I just couldn't sleep so I gave up and came down here. Did you want some food? I'm feeling like some bacon and eggs, or maybe biscuits and gravy." He was.. surprised by your nonchalant demeanor. He smiled though, grabbing your hand and kissing it softer than ever before. "Whatever you make sweet cheeks, I'll eat."

Your cheeks tinted pink ever so slightly, but you didn't feel nervous or overly flustered. Instead, you felt confident. So confident that you took the hand Angel wasn't holding and placed it on his round and soft cheek. He was also surprised, but leaned into your hand, whether or not he knew what you were thinking is a mystery. At least, it was until he started leaning down, eyes fluttering shut as he left just enough space between your lips and his to feel them ghost over the others.

You admired him a second longer, then closed your eyes, closing the distance between the two of you.

The kiss was short but sweet, you pulling away first, looking up at Angel with sweet doe eyes. Your first ever kiss was.. amazing, just like when you dreamed of it as a kid.

Angel gave you a dopey smile, then gave you a quick kiss on the nose, pulling away and tugging you towards the kitchen again. "Let's make some food, I'm starving ova' here!"

[trans-axolotl]

I think the reason psychosis is always viewed as a crisis by non-schizo effected people is cause neurotypical people are always told and believe that an episode of psychosis is the most terrifying thing that could happen. Like at least from my experience, descriptions, talks, and depictions of psychosis is AS something that's deathly scary to not know (and assumably never again know) what's real and what isn't, some depictions showing any episodes as worse than death. Like obviously that's not true but it stays with people; the telling of "it's the worst thing that could ever happen everytime" and definitely made the first few times I dealt with psychosis and hallucinations a lot worse and a lot scarier

yeah! so much of the messaging around psychosis and schizophrenia is so fucking dangerous because of the way it continually reinforces these ideas that psychosis is always terrifying, life-ending, and the worst case scenario. like that can have materially dangerous impacts on the lives of people living with psychosis/altered states. i think that kind of stigmatizing messaging about psychosis really demobilizes people in our communities and convinces people that they don't have the capability to support their loved ones with psychosis, and instead creates this idea that "professionals" are the only ones who could ever actually support someone through psychosis. and that leads to so much more forced institutionalization, pathologization, violence towards people experiencing psychosis, and just really a lack of the kind of proactive community support that could actually help prevent some kinds of crisis and distress.

i think it also makes it really hard for us, when we start experiencing psychosis/altered states for the first time, because there's really no framework for us to understand and cope with our experiences beyond just "this is the worst thing ever and there's no options for me." i think it creates a lot of forced shame and secrecy, as well as pushing a lot of us into more intense crisis because we have nowhere to go to get support. and like, when you google this half the shit that comes up tells you to call 911 immediately, and when you're someone who can't do that because it's dangerous for you, you're just left with no fucking options or getting pushed into treatment options that don't respect your autonomy.

i wish there was a lot more recognition that psychosis/altered states are something that can happen to anyone, and actually do happen to a lot more people to varying degrees and in different contexts. that psychosis is something that it is possible to live fulfilling and meaningful lives with. that you don't need to be an expert to support someone living with psychosis/altered states. and that there is so many ways of living with psychosis, and that antipsychotics and therapy are not the only options, and should never be a forced option. i also have so many thoughts about how desperately we need informed consent for antipsychotic medications and how fucking mad i am about the amount of information that is withheld from psychotic people about the side effects of our meds, the withdrawal experience, dosages, other options, etc etc etc.

anyway i just really recommend that everyone, whether you're someone who experiences psychosis/altered states or not, learns more about psychosis and do the work to challenge all these internalized myths we learn from society and the psych system. i highly recommend checking out the hearing voices network, and also really recommend Project LETS anticarceral altered states training to learn more ways to help support yourself and your loved ones.

thanks for this ask, i really agree with what you're saying!

[wannaeatramyeon]

Ryuhei Kuroda x Reader: Japanese 101

G/N. Ryuhei teaches you some japanese.

You cup your mouth with both hands, take a deep breath and shout, "Kutabare!" (Fuck you!)

A few coworkers turn to you in shock, including the one whose attention you were aiming for.

Ryuhei spins around, eyes lighting up and copies your motion. "Shinee!" (Die!)

Internally flipping through your tiny repertoire of Japanese, it takes you a moment before understanding dawns and you cackle.

It leaves you both with a smile for the rest of the day.

.

.

You repeat the word after him, testing it out for the first time, "Chinchin." (Dick) and then put your own spin on it:

"I hate Eugene, he's a chinchin."

It doesn't really work but it makes Ryuhei laugh anyway.

.

.

Pointing to a stray cat, you exclaim, "Kawaii!" (Cute!)

Ryuhei huffs at your childishness. You're pretty cute too.

.

.

"Hey," you whisper to the blonde seated next to you, "teach me something new."

Face hidden behind his mask, he tilts his head at you as if to say not now.

"Please, before my brain falls asleep."

Ryuhei turns back to Eugene droning on. Something about quarterly growth and being on target, then leans close and mutters, "Kuso kurae."

You jot it down phonetically at the top of your notepad, "Meaning?"

"Eat shit."

You muffle your giggles just in time.

.

.

"Kuso kurae!" you repeat at Ryuhei the next day.

Grinning hard, he gives you a nod and fist pump, "Ganbatte!" (Do your best!)

.

.

In the huskiest, most sensual voice you can muster up, you breathe into his ear, "Iku~" (I'm coming~)

Shit.

Ryuhei's head swims.

Maybe he shouldn't have taught you that one.

.

.

Smiling wide, and holding up the phone to his face, "Baka!" (Idiot!)

Steadying your hand with his, Ryuhei takes a small step back to focus on what you're showing him. Ah, it's a candid photo of him taken this morning, right after you called his name and thrusted the lens in his face.

He looks very handsome, even if he says so himself.

The expression that you captured though, he's not sure what to make of it. Is that what his face is like when he looks at you? He looks vulnerable, exposed. More than he has been in a long time.

"Baka!" you repeat again, like a kid learning a new word - and he supposes, that it is new and novel for you.

"Baka," he agrees, because he does feel like one where you're concerned.

.

.

"Daisuki da." Ryuhei whispers into your ear. Quiet, but not quiet enough as Kenta, sitting on his other side, startles at his words.

You scribble the sounds on your notepad, along with another message 'What does that mean?' then give him a gentle prod with your pen.

Ryuhei's eyes flicker to the paper but he doesn't respond.

"What does it mean?" You say aloud this time, risking drawing the ire of Eugene. Ryuhei gives you a shrug and you click your tongue.

"Fine, I'll just look it up later myself," you hiss, petulant and pouting. "Bakayaro," (Bastard) you add for good measure.

He doesn't react, on the surface. Instead, below the boardroom table, he aims his hand towards you then it springs forward, quick as a dart, peevish fingers pinching at your waist and you squeal.

The entire room turns towards you.

"Sorry," you mutter, face burning red.

.

.

You look it up later that night and feel a different warmth on your face. Growing to the tips of your ears, all the way down to your toes.

Daisuki da.

(I really like you.)

[wxnheart]

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

note: I'm expanding on what I call my Just Be series (which started with König/Just Kingly Things) and what better way to do that than to do one for Babygurl? heads up, this list touches on some sensitive subjects, too. hope y'all enjoy it!

Ghost vividly remembers his father’s words, spurred by misery and an alcoholic rage. He remembers the times when the wretched bastard would tell him that he was unlovable and would amount to absolutely nothing. And surprise, surprise, Simon believes believed this.

He remembers his mother’s smile, strained and… and lifeless. He can count on one hand the number of times it reached her eyes. It was never around his father.

Simon also thinks of his brother, anxiety and tension fueling their fights; they fought each other because they couldn’t fight anyone else. Not the ones they wanted to fight, that is.

Ghost remembers the day when he took matters into his own hands and stood up to their father. He remembers the abject fear in the miserable fuck’s eyes and finally—

He remembers the hopeful smile his mother gave him later. He remembers seeing the tension and stress literally leave his brother’s body.

Even if he didn’t show it often, Simon was damn proud to see his family’s life turn around for the better. Simon remembers his brother pledging his life and love to new his sister-in-law. He remembers swallowing a bitter pill to support him and the singular thought running through his mind the entire time: ‘Where’s my happiness?’

And despite his upbringing, Ghost is very much a marriage-minded individual (to his surprise). You’d be forgiven for thinking otherwise because he keeps to himself.

A relationship with Simon is best described as a slow burn. Your attraction to him would be more apparent than his desire for you. Simon would be extremely hesitant in the beginning to pursue you for a plethora of reasons, the main one being a hidden fear that he’ll turn out like his father. He internalized every single thing the miserable shit told him. A close second one is, well, his profession. He figures that not many people can stomach the things he’s seen and done. Gotta have a certain strength of will to deal with everything that comes with him. You have to have patience as well.

You’re up for the challenge but Simon is still skeptical hence why your relationship with him will develop fairly slowly. Funnily enough, Soap will be your wingman and biggest supporter because the way he sees it, Ghost is just as deserving of love and happiness as the next person even if he thinks he isn’t.

And yeah, Ghost can give credit where it’s due. There are a lot of things he’s learned about himself thanks to you.

For starters, he’s learned that he’s a much more territorial person than he thought. Simon remembers the way his father would do his damnedest to hoard his mother’s attention and he does his best not to do that with you.

It’s hard to make him laugh but he always finds the sides of his mouth quirking whenever you tell a shitty joke. From anyone else, he wouldn’t be impressed but you… yeah. Offbeat humor suits you. It doesn’t hurt to chuckle after all.

When you first called him handsome, something new, something different aside from all the bullshit insults hurled at him or Ghost or Simon, he was immediately on edge if only because he’d never felt so… flattered before. Yeah, that’ll take some getting used to but he’d be a fucking liar if he didn’t think your compliments made his day. Or that he feels some type of way when you compliment someone else.

You two can agree to disagree. Civilly, might I add, and without the theatrics. What better way to pacify a mean fuck than to agree with everything they said, even when it was loud and wrong? Simon’s glad to not have to walk on eggshells, to realize that there can be peace even in the midst of conflict.

He can never forget the joy in your eyes that day when you two crossed that bridge and made your relationship official (“About damn time, Lt.” “Shut up, Johnny.”). You’re practically glowing and he allows himself to feel, to believe that he’s everything his father said he’d never be. You hug him tightly and yeah, Simon figures he’ll be just fine.

Your smile reaches your eyes and he thinks he’s found his happiness after all.

Just Ghostly things, amirite?

[queer-overwatch]

Omg I love the mentor Ana you wrote could you do a mentor moira with a student intern that works hard but struggles in there studys

Moira as with student!intern reader!

Ofc! Moria the meanest girlie ever, I love her <3 sorry this is a little short </3 -Frisk

☯•-•-•-•⟮ ☯ ⟯•-•-•-• ☯

"Uuugh!"

Slamming your head down on your desk, you groan as you try to read a paragraph about some DNA vs RNA for the millionth time.

No matter how many times you tried to memorize everything you needed to know regarding stupid, stupid genetics you'd forget it as soon as you actually had to apply your knowledge for anything. You had to at least get down a decent chunk of what Moria told you study, otherwise you'd disappoint her and that would absolutely ruin you.

Straightening back up, you stubbornly start reading again, ignoring everything and anything that wasn't directly in front of you as you refuse to even blink for a good minute. Unfortunately, that also meant you couldn't hear Moria calling for you. And by the time you finally noticed her stomping her way over to your work desk, it was too late.

"Care to explain why you've been ignoring me for the last 3 minutes, (y/n)?" Crossing her arms, she stares down at you impatiently. Shit, this is exactly what you wanted to avoid!

"I'm sorry! I really didn't mean to, I just- I was distracted." You close the book in front of you after making sure you'd put a bookmark on the page you were on, spinning your chair to look at her without straining your neck. You could see in the disappointment in her eyes, and god if that didn't hurt worse than chopping your own hand off.

You begged and worked and tried so hard to get the opportunity to work alongside and learn from her, and you were going to blow it all just because you couldn't wrap your head around something she could recite and explain in her sleep!

Too wrapped up in your own head, you don't notice her grabbing the book from your desk and flipping to the page you were just reading and skimming through a few paragraphs.

She scoffs, tossing it back onto your desk and snapping you out of your thoughts. "That's what you're stuck on, really? Pathetic, a five year old could understand what you fail to comprehend."

Holding your breath, you look down to the ground and nod along silently, a million different thoughts running through your head, the majority of which were just calling you stupid.

Looking down at you, she sighs as she rests her hands on her hips and pulls a spare chair over to your desk, sitting down with her legs crossed. "I suppose since you're supposed to be my intern after your studies, I should ensure you understand these types of things so you don't ruin my work. Go on then, tell me what you're struggling with."

Shocked, you snap your head up to look at her. "What-?"

She stares at you as if you're the dumbest person she'd ever talked to, gesturing to the book on your desk. "I said tell me what your feeble mind fails to process, or would you prefer to be left in your own stupidity, that'd certainly be easier for me."

"No-! No, um, thank you!"

"Shut up and read."

"Yes ma'am!"

[luis-serra-kennedy]

Rockstar/Actor!Luis AU Masterlist

This is a self indulgent AU where Luis is a cringe fail loser starving artist musician who knows Leon because he's the receptionist at a recording studio. Leon had a hate crush on Luis for years, but after one conversation he learns there's a little more depth to Luis than he thought.

And eventually Luis does get his big break, with a hugely successful album that nets him a Grammy.

Main AU

oh my god, it's my life, what am I doing kicking at the foundation?

After ten years in America trying to break through into the music industry with absolutely 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 to show for it, Luis is close to finally swallowing his pride and admitting to himself that he's a failiure and all his music is shit. Admitting to himself he's wasted his entire adult life chasing this unattainable dream and now has to start from scratch. Going home to admit to his grandfather that he should have listened to his warnings about not pursuing music as a career, and gone to university instead of joining a band. He gets as far as setting aside money for the plane ticket, before someone changes his mind.

Success Hasn't Spoiled Me Yet

Luis Serra is not an asshole. He is gone, but he's coming back. And he fed Leon's cat.

wakin' up blind with the house on fire

❝Well, I agree the timing isn't really ideal, but… That doesn't mean we can't want it anyway,” Luis cautiously places a hand on top of Leon's. “You do want it, right? That's why you're so scared, my career is just taking off, you know I have lots of baggage and worry about money, babies need a lot of money, having one would impact my career. So you think I'll be mad that you want to lock me down by bringing a baby into it. But it's okay, there wasn't anything for you to be scared of. I'm not upset. Not at all. I want it too. If you can handle another few months on your own, then we can do this. Easy.❞ OR Luis has to learn to balance being a touring rockstar and expectant father.

Spin-off AU

This one is just an AU of an AU. It splits off from the third chapter of the main AU's first fic. Most of the same things happen, just on a slightly different timeline and in slightly different ways. The biggest difference is that Luis's grandfather does not get sick and die in the spin-off AU. But Luis still has his album blow up, Leon still gets pregnant with twins accidentally, Luis still goes on tour, etc.

Take Me Away With You

Having a bit of an internal crisis over his music career and feeling like a sellout, Luis asks to be taken away from the party for a motorcycle ride with Leon. He gets a lot more out of it than he bargained for. OR Luis gets hard on the back of Leon's motorcycle and Leon gets 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘴. OR An alternate, smuttier version of the third chapter of my fic oh my god, it's my life, what am I doing kicking at the foundation?

Homewrecker Luis AU

While Luis is still a musician/actor and Leon is still a receptionist at the studio Luis records at, this one is overall very different to the others. Leon is in a toxic abusive dumpster fire of a relationship with Krauser. He ends up giving into Luis's flirtations and cheating on Krauser with him. Having lacked any relationship experience and been more generally naive when he first moved to LA, Leon fully believed that his relationship with Krauser was normal and all men would treat him like that, it was the best he could possibly get. But the way Luis treats him during their affair shows him there may be greener grasses after all…

Just A Little Sexual Tension (under the guise of love)

Are you really a homewrecker if the “home” you're wrecking is more of a toxic dumpster fire? OR Leon doesn't realize he's in a toxic relationship and his boyfriend is bad in bed until he gets a taste of Luis.

playlists

the mixtape Leon listens to when he's crying about Luis

songs about Leon

[omghallucinations]

aspects and chart patterns for ateez

number one reason why i decided to write this: mingi has a grand cross.

bro this chart goes crazy. a grand cross is a SHIT TON of energy. act right now, think NEVER (or later, obsessively, full of regrets). for mingi the 4 players are uranus "manic pixie dream girl" (14 aquarius), mars "she's cute but a psycho" (15 scorpio), sun "ME! by taylor swift" (16 leo) and saturn "i work so i can go home" (16 taurus). they're all in fixed signs so that can be a rough ride! these guys ain't gonna move. it's easy to not make any progress because he feels really stuck here. the fire is blazing away, but the walls are staying put. it creates a fixed idea of how things are, a relentless energy that can eat itself. terrified of losing security. strength becomes an identity. he's both 100% always sure he is right about everything and staggeringly aware of the multiplicity of life and that no one knows what truth is, since a grand cross has one of each element so the energy is split.

it's like

his sun, in its rulership in leo, so very strong: have you SEEN ME LATELY, i want to LOVE you and come let me SHINE MY RAYS UPON YOU and you can be like wow you're so pretty!! and i'll be like yeah i am!! you're so pretty too!! i love expressing myself through dance and music!! i am 100% embracing my identity i can't be anyone other than me!! (this depends on his rising) versus uranus in aquarius, also rulership if you do modern rulers which i don't usually: uhHHHHH girl. being different is really. hard. also i don't want to join the party and i don't believe in that and also i want to leave and this is giving me anxiety. have you considered that the self is a construct and constantly changing???

meanwhile, on the other side of his chart:

mars strong in its rulership in scorpio if you do traditional rulers, which i do: i'm so sexy and intense and everyone looks at me all the time. i want to act boldly and with power and sexuality and loyalty and i'm not afraid of anyone have you considered that! if you cross me you'll fucking regret it. i'm full of deep powerful desires and i want to act to achieve them!! versus saturn in taurus: sit the hell down and be responsible, you asshole. stop doing that. stop thinking that. stop desiring that. it's not helpful. stop wanting that it's not practical. i'm the ensemble cast in stick to the status quo!! no no no! stick to the stuff you know!!

which produces these big bursts of passionate action and not a lot of follow through. there's also sub arguments, which are fun too.

sun square saturn: father saturn is always haranguing the sun/self/ego that he has to PRODUCE that he has to SUCCEED or what is the POINT, and sometimes the sun is like fuck it... i give up ballet is YOUR dream dad

father saturn is also haranguing gay cousin uranus which has the fun effect of making him both insanely stubborn/rigid and insanely chaotic at the same time

uranus is like the devil on the shoulder of mars encouraging it to do more, be more extreme, move on, hit da BRICKS

mars passes a lot of that message on to the sun, being like you gotta be move and make a decision right now and who gives a shit what the consequences are! let's jump off this building!!

thank god mingi has an "easy opposition" planet that offshoots his saturn-mars opposition! depending on his birth time his moon likely sextiles saturn and trines mars to some degree. the way out of this all or nothing mentality is through his cancer moon (so many of ateez have cancer moons). his moon is basically like... girl go home. learn to garden or knit or something. get out of the club girl what are u doing

san's mars opposes his jupiter exactly. no like. exactly exactly. 0.00 orb which i almost have never seen in my life. so she's a strong and intense opposition! the two sides of the seesaw:

his mars in scorpio: i'll die for you, i'll kill for you, i have deeply internalized so much red hot rage that i am afraid of being angry but also unable to not be angry. haha i'm fine, he said, his eyes shooting fire. let's go deep and dark right now, i can handle any weight and get though anything also if you betray me i will never forget so write that down, i love two things powerful soul-penetrating intimacy and holding on to my grudges. do you remember that one time you did that one thing because i do versus... taurus jupiter: you know what i love? nature. humanity. my ideals. bro you're really harshing my mellow so bad. i want to focus on acquiring my cool items and comfort. have you tried just like... letting go? transform yourself into a more benevolent being! i'm managing my money, other people's money, whatever, my investments go crazy and i have great intimate partnerships and that's enjoy to bring me fulfillment and joy :)

thankfully his leo venus is there! leo venus trines his scorpio mars and sextiles his jupiter, softening each one with that optimistic romance, the creativity, the passion. venus is not always acting perfectly--she sure can be an egomaniac--but it can certainly smooth out the rough edges of mars and connects the two extremes. it's also in the 12th, the pisces-y house, so it's sort of quieter, more introverted, very compassionate and sympathetic to others.

hongjoong also has an almost exact opposition (0.07, so close!) with a softening planet to the side.

jupiter in pisces: have you ever thought about humanity? we have a responsibility to help the less fortunate! do you think ghosts are real? do you want to join a cult? also i'm so sad :( about people being sad :(. also i really really want to spend all my money! right now!! it's fine i'll make more money whatever, what is important is look at my beautiful gorgeous items (2nd house). versus... mars in virgo: gotta WORK. gotta make that mONEY make PURSE. and the way you do that is by killing yourself working :). i can look at every situation logically and critically and i will cross every t and dot every i in the entire world by thursday at the latest. god i love solving weird problems so much. yes i will be reachable by phone :) or text :) or slack :) please feel free to zoom :) no i will not be on vacation ever in my life :)

thankfully he can bridge that gap with his venus in scorpio in the 9th house (think art/values/beauty/romance that is unafraid of darkness and eager to get to the heart of shit often about philosophy/religion/art/travel). his sun and mc also contribute to that--so his ego/identity and his career. they trine/sextile the two planets themselves, just not exactly.

on the other side of that opposition, we have... a t-square :(. his gemini moon in the 5th house squares both jupiter and mars. a t-square is often like--bro you've repressed some shit but here's some red hot raw potential if u work through it. it can help and hurt, like all aspects. the moon makes sure the chart is like HEY. LOOK AT MARS AND JUPITER. THERE IS A BIG DIFFERENCE BETWEEN MARS AND JUPITER RIGHT. it anchors the difference. it can mean his emotions go zoom zoom from one side to the other--moon/jupiter of benevolence, so many feelings, philosophy, the meaning of life on one side, and then on the other side i have NEVER had a FEELING in my LIFE how DARE you i gotta WORK and THINK ABOUT STUFF what do you mean "don't intellectualize" and "feel my feelings" LMAO sounds fake.

seonghwa interestingly enough has no oppositions at all between planets--he's not going to seesaw within himself. he's gonna make a choice and not understand why other people are making such a big deal out of it. i bet he doesn't even have an internal monologue, lucky bitch. goddamnit.

he does have some interesting conjunctions--he has an exact conjunction with saturn and mars in aries in the 10th house. saturn gives mars a capricorn-ish, earth sign flavor. the way he asserts himself is going to be logical, practical, he does not like change, there's a lot of anxiety with action. this is amplified by them being in the 10th house. saturn gets a boost here because the 10th house is the capricorn house--it likes it here. they are more loosely conjunct his retrograde mercury (some trouble communicating) and his sun. they all get that same practical capricorn flavor.

mars in aries: you cannot kill me in any way that matters :) capricorn in aries: hm. technically. they can. what if, for example, your local coffee shop rearranges the furniture mars in aries: 1 fear

his cancer rising (22 cancer) exactly squares mars and saturn (22 aries) and more loosely mercury and his sun. it's like his identity/his life purpose/life direction as a nurturing, healing person who also struggles with vulnerability and being a bit judgmental sometimes shut up about it runs up against his 10th house work self, for better or worse. fire (aries) and water (cancer) don't get along, their goals are different.

he has other interesting things in his chart but i'm really trying to just to aspects right now lmao this is so long!!

jongho has an exact opposition between jupiter and pluto, so that's a fun bounce between

jupiter in gemini: man i love to be social, free, not taking shit serious, talking to people about whatever, and pluto in sagittarius: get AWAY from me i am LEAVING goodBYYYYYE

if you are extremely generous with your orbs, he could have uranus to quote unquote soften that--sort of like, idek i do my shit my way and it's chill. it's a big orb though so i don't really count it hardcore.

he also loosely has his virgo mars anchoring the opposition into a t-square--it creates sort of a versus situation. like hongjoong, he has a virgo mars (the gotta WORK (but not in a showy capricorn way, i'm genuinely doing the work stop showing off)) struggling to balance the opposing impulses of pluto and jupiter.

gotta wORK... on what? gotta work with people in a social way? or gotta work by getting the hell out of here independently? he can vacillate between the two extremes, avoid one of the points until his saturn return clomps up to say heyyyy girlllllll or some mixture of the two.

wooyoung has one opposition between planets!

mercury in scorpio (15) in the second house: i wanna get into the deep weeds with people, i want to skip the small talk and trauma dump on each other, i wanna say the TRUTH i don't CARE if it's "nice" also i'm fairly practical and critical, in contrast to how i am all or nothing motherfucker anyway i need to passionately argue my ideas and also i need to ice you out, i'm complex okay!! gOD you just don't UNDERSTAND the exhilarating highs and perilous lows of LIFE like I DOOO versus saturn in taurus (15) in the eighth house: oh shit i gotta keep myself in check and be normal so i can handle other people's problems and not lose all my money and not transform too much it will make people uncomfortable fuck i'm afraid of death i need to have a stable foundation jesus christ stop being so emotional and focus on what is practical!! god!!!!

there is no easy way out of that one i'm afraid.

instead, there's a t-square!!! the action point is his uranus in aquarius in the fifth house so there's issues with feeling like being his own unique person is in itself disruptive. he fears rejection--probably went through that a lot as a child (5th house). on the bright side, having to deal with the squares will help him gain resolution in this seesaw. the vibes are:

i have to restrict myself and be a normal bitch gotta WORK, gotta make that MONEY make PURSE

no wait. i have to be my weird ass self and express that creatively! my uniqueness is my charming point! it is so fun and awesome to be a little weirdo!

u know what actually let's connect deeply i wanna talk about emotional TRUTHS i wanna bear my SOUL i'm so RIGHT about everything and if i talk at you enough you will learn the truth!!

oops changed my mind goodbye everyone, i have reinvented myself again and i need to run away forever i'm a manic pixie dream girl and i've ghosted you. :)

yeosang has a grand trine! with a generous orb, so it's less strong than it could be. a rare aspect that is all about ease. again, like all aspects and chart patterns, there are pros and cons. a grand trine is a big ole triangle with 3 planets or points in the same element and they all get along great. yeosang's ascendant in aries is trine pluto in sagittarius is trine venus in leo. his life purpose/direction, his understanding of power death and rebirth and his desire for love, what he likes, his values, etc are always chatting away in endless circles and it's very cohesive but it can really lack direction.

pluto: i don't know where do u wanna go ascendant: idk were do u wanna go venus: idk where do u wanna go

like that. there's a lot of potential here: the newness and excitement and babyness of an aries rising, the intensity and passion of pluto, the love and harmony and creativity of venus, but it lacks direction in a major way.

like san and hongjoong, yeosang also has a mars and jupiter opposition. san and hongjoong's are exact, though (so like jupiter at 18 pisces is exactly opposite mars at 18 virgo), so they are stronger. yeosang's is more chill but still present.

jupiter in aries in the 1st house: i love being alive! i feel fresh and brand new. optimism is so easy for me! i act quickly and i want what i want but also if you want something i'll get it for you! i have strong values and i'm super honest and i'm not afraid of that in any way :). everything will work out!! mars in libra in the 7th house: haha... a decision? never heard of her hahah.... it's fine whatever u want is cool.... .. . i don't really wanna get it myself so uh. well if u think it's okay???? do you think it's okay?????? does everyone else think it's okay???? i'm very stressed and mars is in detriment here so i am uncomfortable but it's okay i'll be fine whatever u want is okay with me so long as the group is happy right???

it's also interesting because as an aries rising, his chart ruler is mars in libra--it's gonna flavor his whole personality strongly. normally in that opposition jupiter would overrule mars in its detriment, but because mars is the chart ruler that side of his personality gets emphasized more.

yunho has a locomotive chart pattern--that's like when 3/4 parts of the wheel have planets in them. hongjoong also has this. these people tend to be more driven towards goals, and there's one planet that acts as the engine--for hongjoong it's his virgo mars, which makes sense, and yunho's is his gemini moon in the eighth house. his engine is social-emotional in a light gemini sort of way not in an intense water moon sort of way. it's also square his pisces mercury in the 4th house (the cancer house, home/roots/foundation). to me that's like

gemini moon in the 8th: emotions are interesting to me in an abstract way but they don't really affect me that much, i'm always able to see the logical side of things. i'm really good at talking people through their feelings and i love to talk about mine too--but i do not want to actually feel them, ew gross that does not make me feel safe and feeling safe is extremely important to me! anyway what feeling i don't know what you're talking about my mood is totally different now i don't remember her? yeah i was upset but that was thirty seconds ago catch up! pisces mercury in the 4th: that person over there is sad i can feel it :( be nice to them :( i am gonna be really careful so i don't offend them :( anyway there is no one right answer i could be wrong idk i'm used to everything changing all the time so it's not a big deal do u think that person needs a hug :( gemini moon, trying to not feel anything: what are u doing here

this seems like a very helpful and productive square that keeps pisces and gemini--both mutable signs--from going too far in either direction. the house placements feel more unstable though.

uranus is also trine the moon so that weighs the scale more on the detachment side. uranus in aquarius in the 3rd (gemini house) is air on air on air, but also very stubborn and obsessed with being free. goodBYYYYEYYEE in a planet.

his sun is also conjunct jupiter in aries which makes his personality larger-than-life or like, expanded in some way. known. success comes easier. it's also in the fifth house of creativity and self expression which is a fun, carefree vibe, youthful leo energy. can get an ego, but he's friendly!

venus at home in taurus in the 6th conjunct saturn in taurus in the 6th--that's like saturn squeezing the life out of venus a little bit. holding it down.

venus in taurus: everyone likes me i'm cute and lovable and things come so easy to me! i love items and feeling safe and at home! man this is a soft hoodie i have achieved fulfillment. i know the perfect thing to smooth over this awkward social situation because things gotta stay stable it's insanely important to me but u know it's cool, i'm so friendly and personable :) saturn in taurus: have u ever considered that everyone betrays u venus in taurus: everyone.... could betray me. i... could betray me...... ... . better not let anyone in emotionally!!! i don't trust that shit! but if you do stay we're for life, so. ride or die.

anyway i'm interested in doing more astrology for ateez, these bitches go crazy. almost all of them have very active uranus and they have either a gemini moon (yunho, san, hongjoong) or a cancer moon (wooyoung, seonghwa, mingi, yeosang) or they are jongho, who has either an aries or a pisces moon depending on when he was born. what the hell bro. wild.

[poppytuft]

the bear s3 spoilers

below the cut! thinking about claire and stuff we saw this season re: carmy/syd/the restaurant/donna, just finished the season so itll be a mess and also im comin in way too hot on this so my bad

sometimes...... sometimes i believe you guys are all watching different tv. im not sure how this season didnt feel like a direct through line from s2?? and im not sure WHY everyone is SO MAD about claire LITERALLY "haunting" this season. girl. come on. we need to have a sit down talk about how the berzatto generational trauma is the real meat of this show (this will make sense, just trust me). thats the MAIN EMOTIONAL POINT. syd's relationship with her dad, marcus and his mom, richie and evie, even tina and louie are all examples of parental relationships that are tender, sweet, supportive, etc. these are INTENTIONAL!! by creating these relationships we see PLAINLY how fucked donna is and how much she fucked up all of these kids. thats why "ice chips" was such a FANTASTIC episode. there was SO MUCH unpacked, so much revealed, so much worked through with sugar and her but at the end of the day she's still learning how to unlearn all of this horrific narcissistic bullshit. SHES STILL UNLEARNING THOUGH. thats where fucking DONNA of all people sits right now——somehow, she's learning how to heal. EVERYONE IS LEARNING. that's also what is so important about that episode.

now lets look at carmy. in "ice chips" we are LITERALLY told about how each berzatto is born: mikey fighting against the idea of being alive at all, nat into a quiet, soothing room, and CARMY is fucking born into EVERYONE SCREAMING and ARGUING and FIGHTING. we are BLATANTLY told that all carmy has ever known is HELL and all he's ever known how to communicate is through exploding. this is so violently against what we also know about his personality from childhood in "fishes" (anxious growing up, arts-oriented, had a hard time making friends). now, he works a violently stressful job, processing the trauma from both his mother (and chef fields [joel mchale], realistically) through the high-stress environment.

NOW. ENTER CLAIRE.

HOW is she not fascinating to you all. we don't see her whole story (because the bear, duh) but we are given just enough pieces here to put together that her story runs parallel to carmy's. how are you not getting this. walk with me.

claire. glasses, nerdy, quiet, sweet, girl next door. family friend! cute, but considered mid for a long time by everyone at school, but suddenly the berzatto men all badger carm, "oh she got a glow up, oh shes looking for you, she wants to see you," etc etc etc. what happened in between?

she finds herself. she finds the stressful thing she LOVES, which is the hospital. her job is objectively more stressful than carmy's (illustrated by that scene earlier in the season but i forgot the episode, where claire talks about the girl who got her shit wrecked by the glass table), and while we don't have an exact understanding of what her home life was like, we understand that her and carmy both have a level of internal anxiety that thrives on the stress of their careers. HOWEVER, claire does it because she loves it. carmy just doesn't know how to stop.

this is what makes claire feel like "peace" to carmy——because her high-stress job is a choice, an active choice she is making because it fulfills her. it's not to prove her dead brother wrong, or to honor his own legacy, or to prove that dickbag boss wrong, or to leave a mark on the world, or to make her own life worthwhile, or to prove that she doesn't need anyone else. she genuinely enjoys helping people even when the days are stressful, or scary. he's obsessed with this. he wants to know how she does this. every day she leaves that stress at home——and he wants to learn how to do that too.

claire is VITAL to this season and to understanding carmy's stress——and how far back he is in his healing process. it should only become more and more apparent, as we see characters like tina (the beef/the bear became vital to her success/development as a chef AND person, both for the people AND her love of food), marcus (not hiding his grief, but using it to help rationalize how much his mother loved him and wanted to be surrounded by people that love him), and richie (finding a purpose through service/expo and understanding he can start over again) push through their own traumas and struggles to become better people. if donna can be not only present at sugar's bedside during labor, but WELCOMED at this point in the show, it makes carmy's inability to heal all the more present. claire is an important part of this puzzle: she helps us see a window into a world where carmy is balanced emotionally, but unbalanced professionally, because he has no idea how to make the two coexist.

however, the idea that he can be balanced emotionally at all is so fucking enticing——with the help of someone who experiences stress in the same way as him (and who is familiar with his familial trauma), he has the opportunity to grow up and move on from his family trauma and wounds perpetuated by the industry he works in.

on the flip side of this....... his inability to process any of this is starting to impact syd. and frankly, that's some bullshit. his lack of communication, inability to community build/trust ANYONE, and his violent stubbornness is pushing her into the same space that he was in under chef fields, in a much slower, more subtle manner, and for slightly different reasons. her panic attack at the end of the season could read in two directions to me: her stress over the responsibility of changing so many people's lives has boiled over once she remembered that the beef once was truly great (hey five star review on the fridge!), OR, she realizes how much she isn't in it for the food. fuck a Michelin star: she wants to cook with her family. chef terry says at the end of "forever", in the garage with carmy, that she's so grateful she got to do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, where she wanted, with the people she wanted to do it with. sydney is so close to having those things at the bear——but carmy's dysfunction is keeping it just out of arms reach. the two of them are now on opposite sides of the approach from last season: syd dying for a star, and carmy dying to cook for the woman he loved. now, carmy is hungy for recognition again, desperate to prove something, and sydney is remembering (thanks to the conversation with other chefs during the ever funeral service) why she loved cooking in the first place. so this leaves us to wonder: should she stick it out? for the people? or make something of herself? is she carmy, or is she terry? i guess we will just have to see.

all this to say: every character is connected. the bear is a show about family, found and blood, and the choices we make for, with, and because of the people we love, for better or for worse. food is only the center of it, because it's the center of all of our lives. you can't hate claire without understanding where she sits in the web of the berzatto family. and really, you can't hate her if you understand what her presence means for carmy, for syd, and the restaurant as a whole.