#i shouldn't be posting so late

[bella0703]

Hear me out

Sirius black 👇

Sirius Self-destructing and self-sabotaging(his relationships with other mainly) to the point it ends up hurting others (the prank😢, etc) because that's easier than accepting that people care about him but the only way he thinks he can get people to stop caring about him is to disappoint them (because of his home life)

Ramus lupin 👇

Ramus suffering quietly and trying to push people away because it easier than accepting that people care about him and having to explain things (being a werewolf and all), also fearing he might hurt them by accident.

(Nether feeling good enough for the other but handing it completely differently because they can't accept people's love because of never truly feeling that kind of love and care from others but feeling it for others both of them being shocked at people actually loving them despite them not fully loving themselves)

(This post is brought to you because my brain made my post this at 4 am because my brain sees things that are not necessarily there when I'm tired 🙃)

[semperama]

hiii, for the ask game, i would love nr 7 (i dreamt about you last night) for buddie! ✨️

This is probably not what you had in mind when you sent this prompt, and I'm sorry!! It got a little angsty on me. Also long.

“I dreamt about you last night.”

----

Buck wakes up to sheets soaked with sweat, a scream halfway out of his mouth. His ears are still ringing with gunfire, sirens. His heart is pounding, his lungs pulling desperately at the air. He paws at his face, his neck, looks at his hands in the semi-dark and expects them to be stained black with blood.

But it’s just clean skin. He’s alone in his bedroom, legs tangled in the blankets, no copper taste on his tongue.

It was a dream. Just a dream.

The fourth time he’s had the same dream in as many nights.

He throws back the covers and gets out of bed, goes into the bathroom where he turns on the light and splashes water on his face, like that might wash it all the way. They always do it in the movies, the water trick. He wonders if it ever works for them. It doesn’t work for him.

Even when he’s awake, he sees it. The blank expression on Eddie’s face. The pool of blood spreading across the asphalt. The way Eddie’s hand moved. He reached for Buck like Buck could save him, and Buck tried, but it doesn’t feel like it was enough. Even though Eddie’s alive—it was because the bullet missed vital organs, and because the surgeons knew what they were doing. But if he’d been hit a couple inches to the left…Buck couldn’t have done anything. Eddie might still have reached for him, but all he would have been able to do was watch him die.

“Fuck,” he mutters, then splashes himself with another handful of cold water. He can’t—won’t—go back to bed, so he shuts off the faucet and goes downstairs, curls up on the couch and turns the TV on.

He should nod off again. He’s tired enough to. But he knows by now what will happen if he does, the worst moment of his life in technicolor, surround sound. So he stays awake, until the gray light of dawn crowds out the darkness beyond his windows.

———

The nightmares didn’t start until Buck went home. The nights he slept on the Diaz couch were quiet and dreamless, either because he was too exhausted or too numb. He went to work, did the necessary chores, helped Christopher with his homework and cooked him dinner. His body ran on autopilot and his mind stayed blissfully blank, and at night he dropped off to sleep like someone pulled his plug.

But it’s been almost a week since Eddie got home, five days since he sent Buck back to the loft. You’ll kill your back sleeping on that couch much longer. I’ll call you if you need you. Buck hasn’t gotten more than four hours of sleep in a night since.

“You look like shit,” Chim says when Buck clomps up the stairs for breakfast at the start of their next shift. And Buck knows it’s the truth. He saw himself in the mirror this morning. His eyes are bloodshot, and the circles under them have darkened into a bruised shade of purple. His hands have been shaking so much, he keeps them stuffed into his pockets or curled around something—the strap of his bag, a coffee mug.

Bobby’s busy chopping a handful of chives, but when he looks up, Buck knows immediately what he’s going to say.

“Go home, Buck,” Bobby says. “You know you’re no use to us like this.”

What the fuck am I going to do at home? Buck wants to ask—but he also knows Bobby’s right. In his current state, he’d end up jamming the Jaws into his own leg, or throw himself off the side of a building before clipping in.

Maybe neither would be so bad, though. Maybe a different kind of pain would be a relief.

Regardless, he can’t go home. He sits inside the Jeep in the parking lot for almost ten minutes, hands curled around the steering wheel, wondering if a nap here would end up the same way. Then, he starts up the engine and drives to Eddie’s.

It takes a while for Eddie to get to the door, and Buck realizes too late he’s probably sleeping. It’s early, and the painkillers always make him tired, and Buck should have just—let him sleep. Someone should be getting some sleep.

“Why didn’t you just come in?” Eddie asks when he sees it’s Buck on his doorstep. He looks—soft. His hair is sleep-rumpled. He’s not wearing a shirt, his sling strapped across his bare chest, and soft black sweatpants sit low on his hips. Buck wants to lean in and bury his face into the place where his shoulder meets his neck.

“Not sure,” Buck says honestly. His brain isn’t working right, probably. How could it, when it’s wrapped in three layers of cotton?

Eddie steps back to let him in, a furrow forming in his brow. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to be at work?” he says. “And why do you look like—is everything okay?”

Buck shuffles in just enough for Eddie to shut the door behind him. “I had a dream about you,” he says, dropping his gaze to the floor. He feels like a child, showing up in his parents’ bedroom in the middle of the night to cry about the monsters in his closet. Or—it’s how he imagines it must feel. His own parents certainly weren’t interested in protecting him from the things that go bump in the night.

“A dream?” Eddie repeats. He takes a step forward, puts a hand on Buck’s shoulder, and ducks his head to meet his eyes.

“More than one, actually.” Buck doesn’t want to look at him, but he knows he won’t stand for it. “Every night.” His voice cracks. “The sniper.”

“Buck.” Eddie’s hand tightens on him, grips hard enough to hurt. It’s good. Grounding. Buck wants to beg him to leave a bruise. “Why didn’t you say something?

“You’re the one who got shot,” Buck says. “What right do I have to even—”

“No, hey.” Eddie moves in closer, his hand kneading Buck’s shoulder, only a few inches of space between them now. “For me, it was just…pain, and-and your face, and then black. For you…I’ve been in your shoes before, too. I know how scary it can be.”

Buck wants to reach for him, but there’s no safe place to put his hands—the soft skin of Eddie’s waist, the pillow crease that slashes across the side of his face. “I almost didn’t save you.” Finally, Buck touches Eddie’s elbow, just gently, with the tips of his fingers. “I froze, Eddie.” His breath hitches. He can feel his face start to crumple. “I almost didn’t—”

“Oh, Buck.” Eddie yanks him in, guides Buck’s forehead to that spot Buck wanted to nestle into moments ago, holds him close. It’s awkward with Eddie’s bum arm smushed between them, his knuckles digging into Buck’s stomach, but it’s also perfect, because Eddie is warm and alive, his heart beating and blood rushing through his veins and lungs expanding, his breath ruffling Buck’s hair. “I’m here,” he murmurs, his fingers scratching into the hair at the back of Buck’s head. “I’m fine. You did save me, okay? I’m right here.”

Buck cries. For how long, he doesn’t know. Shaky sobs into Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s skin going slick under his cheek. His arms curl around Eddie’s waist, and his fingers dig in, clinging. Eddie almost died, but he didn’t die. He’s here, and he’s solid, and he’s real. Buck doesn’t ever want to let go of him again.

“Here, why don’t we…” Eddie says after some indeterminate amount of time, shifting to wrap his arm around Buck’s shoulders and tug. “Come on. Come lay down with me. You need sleep.”

“Yeah,” Buck says, a strangled sound. He lifts his head enough to walk under his own power, but he won’t stop touching Eddie, one arm still wound around him, their hips brushing all the way down the hall.

In the bedroom, he makes himself let go of Eddie long enough that Eddie can rearrange himself in bed, get into a position that’s comfortable for his shoulder. Buck climbs in carefully, but as soon as he starts to settle, Eddie pulls him closer, manhandles him so his face is tucked against Eddie’s neck again, that spot starting to feel like it was made just for him, two puzzle pieces fitting together.

“Sleep,” Eddie says, and soon, Buck does.

He falls into dreams of Eddie, but this time it’s different—not the sniper, not any other disaster. He dreams of Eddie and Chris at the zoo, gilded with sunlight. He dreams of Eddie grinning up at him during a rope rescue. He dreams of warm skin, warm breath, strong fingers pressing bruises into his hips.

He sleeps, and he dreams of Eddie.

[harocat]

I NEED people to understand that fandom is not a scholarly pursuit for most people.

Yes, I love meta, and I do think people should think about what they do and say as well as their preferences. This is why I talk about racism in fandom, misogyny in fandom, queerphobia in fandom, etc and how that affects preferences, portrayals of characters, and most importantly, treatment toward other fans. This is not about that. Every fan should consider the above when engaging in fandom, because it's literally just the right thing to do.

But you can keep all those things in mind and still understand that for most people, fandom is just fun. And fans aren't lesser for just wanting to come home after a long day at work and smush their dolls together. Shipping is not activism, and non-shipping is also not activism. And someone does not have a tiny brain because they'd rather see two characters make out than be BFFs. Also y'all come across so homophobic.

[m-eltdown]

late nights make me miss people i should never want to see again

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

and happy pride to these assholes. it's still june so i can technially still make that joke right

[nonbinaryeye]

I know it's fun trying to give your characters insecurities, self-worth issues and making them doubt themselves and it is great way to relate to them afterall.

That said I don't really think Gortash has any of those. I think he is really just bursting with self confidence and "I can do no wrong" and if he had doubts about himself Bane would never name him his Chosen or even look at his direction. And no, I don't really think that even deep down with all his trauma there are any hidden doubts, I don't think that he suffers from self hatred or desilusion.

It is so rare find a villain with no redeeming qualities. There is something so deeply wrong with him. And he fully decided to be like that, he's deliberate in all his actions and he knows that they are wrong. He has a big ego and he does not believe he could fail

You interpretation of Gortash is of course up to your preferences and there's plenty of interesting stories with so many different flavours. But at least in my opinion by trying to give him some internalised hatred for himself or something among those lines you're just making him much less interesting.

[another-clive-blog]

Why are we as a fandom not talking more about this scene ??

Clive is literally asking the professor to come back and stop him. Like this isn't him pretending to be Future Luke : he looks genuinely upset/displeased even after the professor promises to come back. He only goes back to smiling after the professor says, and I quote "I wouldn't dream of leaving things here in that state" before talking about stopping his future self. Clive wants confirmation that Layton is actually going to confront the bad guys, that he won't just solve the mystery but fix it too.

And this is literally so important. Clive's speech at the end, about getting saved. This is concrete proof that he had truly meant it from the start, because he's asking for Layton to stop him and thus save everyone here. Which, hey- he didn't just hope and wait to get saved, he tried to save himself too.

Yep, that's right. The game talks about how dangerous it was for Clive to bring Layton underground : it doesn't talk about how even more dangerous it was to let him leave. He could have brought back cops (he did). He could have gathered precious knowledge out there (he did). He could have never come back (and yet he did !!). Clive letting Layton leave is the biggest threat to his plan, and yet HE DID. And you know what else he did ? Make Layton promise to stop him. You can't make a clearer call for help, you just can't.

"Oh but it doesn't make his crimes more forgivable, now does it-" of course not. This isn't about Clive's redemption, it's about Clive trying to avoid needing a redemption : his efforts are vain the moment he started using the fortress. But. There were efforts.

[mikesbasementbeets]

to be real for a second, i think there is a moment in the show where mike has a ~realization~ of sorts about his feelings but hasn't quite put two and two together yet.... and it's this:

this realization of "hey my feelings for will are actually maybe different than my feelings for my other friends, but i'm not sure why" happens at the end of season two. and then mike spends the entirety of season three acting sort of strange and different around will while having his relationship with him constantly juxtaposed with his relationship with el. reaching the end of that season which, despite all the supernatural shit going on, took the time to focus so heavily on those two relationships (and how fundamentally different they are), and having mike have the same realization he had at the end of season two makes no sense because it would mean he accomplished absolutely nothing in his emotional arc during the course season three

especially to claim that he still believes he has feelings for el going into season 4. especially to claim he still believes he has feelings for el by the end of season 4. it's to claim that he has not made any emotional progress in his relationships for at least two full seasons, that he's been going through all of this for it to not have made any conscious impact on him, and the changes in the way he acts from s2-3 and from s3-4 aren't a product of his character developing (growing, changing, to quote hopper's letter) but rather..... ? i don't know actually. just him feeling weird but not understanding himself at all. still. it just doesn't make sense to me. he's one of the main characters of the show, and to keep him emotionally stagnant for 4 out of 5 seasons (especially when we can see that his behavior is changing, that he has not been stagnant at all but rather deeply affected by everything) would be a disservice to his character, first of all, but also a disservice to the narrative which has been showing us his (as well as the other characters') struggle with growing up and growing into himself every season. and it simply doesn't align with what we're being shown

mike is already having realizations by the end of season two. but by the end of season three, he's starting to be really honest with himself about what they mean

[dichromaticdyke]

idk what woman or similarly gendered nonbinary person needs to hear this, but if you feel actual distress, frustration, discomfort, etc. at the thought of being attracted to men, or being with men in a sexual or romantic context--if you genuinely feel this way and you hide it behind "haha sucks that i like men lol" jokes--you honestly should consider lesbianism.

[jabeur]

all the wta singles matches in a slam being during the day is evil many people have jobs and why would i spend my evening watching a domestic abuser instead of paolini rybakina

[batsplat]

i don’t know too much about motogp in depth enough to send specific asks but please know that i am ALWAYS seated for your class! i really enjoy reading your takes + essays

man this is so so kind, I am always a little lost for stuff to say when I just get like. people being lovely in my inbox - trust I do read and appreciate it, just get very hung up on the responding bit

anyway, this ask I think was sent the day after this long post about the similarities between casey and valentino was dropped, which has kinda been where this blog has been living for the past month,, so. in my head. I'm choosing to believe this was specifically about that essay. and I just wanted to quickly toss in one more thing - y'know the bit about sachsenring 2010, right, where valentino shows up way way ahead of schedule from the whole broken leg situation and also jorge and casey have kinda been engaging in a teensy bit of trash talk in his absence and the vibes are. off

so then casey and valentino had a very tight very cool battle for the last podium position, 10/10 would recommend, low key one of the top 3-4 races that season. valentino's fighting his demons (leg recently broken), casey's fighting his demons (bike sucks), you can tell how badly they want to beat each other... and casey manages to take the shine off valentino's return by snatching the final podium place in what you just like. know. was extremely satisfying to him. you just know it!! he won't say it because he's so hung up on the 'ooh I don't get obsessed with my rivals' shtick (lol) but it's very obvious how badly he wants to beat valentino! and then after the race when they're talking to the press, casey's like,, valentino's comeback is really not that serious, the leg's fine he's just lost a bit of muscle mass,, idk why everyone's making such a big deal,, and then valentino starts throwing jibes in his direction about how CASEY would have complained if VALENTINO had ridden like CASEY had, but of course VALENTINO would never do such a thing,,, and in the timeline of the rivalry this is very much when we start descending to kindergarten level

anyway given the tone of the on-track battle and how much shit they talk about each other in the immediate aftermath, you simply have to be deeply endeared by how they behave post-race when they're actually on the bike. classic hand grab and thumbs up situation, valentino recognising casey's performance in all its viciousness:

but then what really prompted this whole thing was. this photo..? where valentino has managed to straight up reach into casey's helmet:

like is he trying to poke casey's eyes out what's happening here. looks like he's doing finger guns in his face. why's he getting so close. isn't this a lovely quirky little photo... casey's doing an insincere thumbs up at him and valentino's attempting to stroke his cheek. fascinating. they're about to say some out of pocket shit about each other to the press btw

[altraviolet]

Okay one tiny thing that is nagging at me: when did Soundwave get access to a subspace pocket? I know he didn't have one in 2938, or when he snuck his strap on into Roddy's office... Cause I'm sure he would've stuffed it in there if he had! Was it installed during the last medical checks just before they left?

like an hour ago I was just thinking "I must've given SW subspace access for him to carry around the money Mirage gave him" and also the data pad, and then "I didn't specifically state that in the text."

"I wonder if anyone will ask me about that"

annnnd here we are lol

so: truthfully, I didn't write it in anywhere. I probably should've. installing during the medical checks sounds good xD I could lie to you and say "yup!! that's what they did!!" as if I had planned it, but I didn't. so I'll say, "that sounds like a really good and reasonable explanation. if you'd do me the honor of interpreting it that way, I'd like that, because I didn't explain it or spell it out"

I'm pretty sure I even thought reallllllly briefly about it while writing and then just decided to gloss over it, lol. but I should know better, because so many little things are planned out. it makes sense people would want things to be interconnected and clear, and readers and the story do deserve that :)

[diverbots]

btw artfight attack to @/tabiwabi and revenge to @/deadhooked!

[ask-the-bone-boys]

[[ok gang i am genuinely so sorry to be doing this literally RIGHT before the end of the event but i've got a whole buncha stuff lining up irl that i am starting to reeeaaally need to address/prioritize and there are a couple things that i still want to do for the "finale" here that i haven't had the time to set up, so all of this is to say iiii need to take at least a day or two to Slow Down And Chill for a bit

I haven't entirely decided if this means I'll take a full break like i have been for the weekends or if I'll just post a little less than I have been, it depends on how I end up feeling really. I will absolutely try my best to make up for the days I've missed tho! I have something pretty cool planned that I think has the potential to be pretty fun, just like i said I gotta set things in place first haha]]

[wonder-worker]

"...Walsingham, the monastic author of the St. Albans Chronicle, was by far [Alice Perrers'] harshest contemporary critic, who in his venom has (somewhat ironically) left us with the longest and most detailed account of her background and personality, her influence as Edward’s mistress, and her subsequent trial. He describes Alice as a shameless lowborn meretrix (a word variously translated as mistress, whore, or harlot), who “brought almost universal dishonour upon the king’s reputation […] and defiled virtually the whole kingdom of England with her disgraceful insolence.” Although Walsingham was not always accurate and, specifically in this case, clearly heavily biased against Alice, he nevertheless provides a truly contemporary account, and his importance as a source should not be underestimated. Likewise, the anonymous monk of St. Mary’s York recorded that in the Good Parliament the Commons (represented by their speaker, Sir Peter de la Mare) stated that it “would be of great gain to the kingdom to remove the said dame [Alice] from the presence of the king both as a matter of conscious and of the ill prosecution of the war.” During the same assembly, the bishop of Rochester, Thomas Brinton, preached from St. Paul’s Cross that “it is not fitting nor safe for all the keys of the kingdom to hang from the belt of one wife.” Although the word wife (uxoris) is used, it is widely accepted that this is a reference to Alice.”

-Laura Tompkins, '"Edward III's Gold-Digging Mistress": Alice Perrers, Gender, and Financial Power at the English Royal Court, 1360-1377", "Women and Economic Power in Premodern Courts" (edited by Cathleen Sarti). Italics by me.

[machidielontheway]

so i "did nothing" today of what i had planned (groceries, 'mental health walk') but i also : - did the laundry - put away the dry cloth of the previous laundry run - waxed (which i wanted to do yesterday so i'm glad i did it now) - practiced my instrument (twas not great as it was a bit mindless, but i finally found the source of one recent sound problem) - washed my hair - did a little callisthenics - downloaded some songs to begin making a collection - learned that even if i'm not feeling it, putting the right song WILL give me the energy necessary to do the thing. i do not need to want to hear the sound for it to work.

so even if i didn't do a "specific activity" outside i still did things and that's good !