#i still don’t know what time these posts actually go up

[cancerian]

The only “dense motherfucker” is one that believes it is women that must do so (make men feel comfortable) for men. You live in a society highly governed by your fellow males, if anyone is making you feel “bad” or “sad” it is because of the rules and laws created by your fellow males. Why should women who have been oppressed and subjugated for years, and are still subjugated by a different name care for your hurt that is caused by other men.

The biggest threat to women is men, the biggest threat to men is other men. At these your big ages, you would think that half a braincell would have formed by now. There is nothing that men will do now that they have not already done in the past. This is why women’s history and their experiences with the men they loved is very important for young girls to know. That way they don’t fall into the trap of “if you show them love, they will change and be kind.” Stop trying to put women in dangerous situations under the guise of loving all humans.

You have to be small minded to think women treat all men the same, your kind needs their ego stroked. Which is why women/girls are required to say “but not all men” when discussing things that disproportionately affect them. No one owes you love, but as humans we owe each other some sense of respect. So, you must respect women’s decisions to interact with you how they feel safest doing. The same way women have learned to respect that not all men are going to respect them. Only a dense pig would think that women do not understand the concept of viewing others as humans. In fact, time and time again it is women that are viewed as less than human by the same group you’re forcing them to care for.

As women (regardless of age), and especially as black women (moving away from the POC bs) you should prioritize your safety, you are not mother Theresa (even she was proven to be a fraud) and should focus on your own wellbeing. Don’t let an idiot calling you “dense” put you in situations many never come out of alive. As someone who has a male in her life that would do anything to see her happy and accomplished (and vice versa), I don’t go around with rose colored glasses trying to change anyone’s opinions because they chose to adopt an ideology that demonizes the living experiences of others. If being called “brother” is the only way you feel welcomed, then you need to rethink your entire life. Once you’re above 25, I implore that you try using at the very least 1/3 of your brain. I know using even half would probably cause a headache, so for now let’s aim to use 1/3.

Also you bring up the fact that men disproportionately hold more seats of power, so maybe direct your sadness to the people actively causing it. Which is the men in power not caring about the broke men (any man not in power). “It won’t pan out great for anyone who is not a male” because this is what males have done throughout history (I know you used man, but I used male for a specific reason and no I’m not a terf, but I don’t care about being called that). What a pathetic thing to say, especially if you’re not the man in power. This is an issue that egotistical idiots have (not calling you an idiot, but it is what it is), claiming men created this and that, when your ancestors are not the men that created it. Stop claiming power you personally don’t have. Stop claiming other men’s hard work as your own, especially when they put in the work to actually be productive members of society.

To the original twitter post, my dude you sound very stupid and seem like the kind that spends more time watching videos than actually reading on your countries history. The win was predictable, not because “men are becoming more right wing” but because this has been a common theme in America. These people are influenced by certain kind of media because deep down they already hold these beliefs, which is why they accept them. Men don’t genuinely want to see equality, hence why when they notice any group they view less than getting more rights they retaliate. The election result only tells us the reality of America as it pertains to race and sex (even more so when we look at the outcome of certain women’s voting history). So, the replies need to stop trying to make women take the blame for actions caused by other men. We should all aim to grow up.

To all the women/girls out there, avoid men that always want to be coddled and victimized. Most importantly find ways to protect yourselves, utilize the 2nd amendment given to you not by all men, but by the men that actually wrote it in. Protect yourselves by all means, and don’t be made to feel guilty for opting for safety over danger and stress.

Edit: have come to the conclusion after reading a substantial number of replies, Tumblr has a significant number of idiots who think they are smart. As a collective, we should all go touch grass.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[honey-tongued-devil]

Got a request: Jinx x Piltover reader who comes to the undercity a lot to see some action and excitement with Jinx thinking they’re from there only to find out that they’re from topside.

[Arcane preference zaunites] with a s/o from Piltover (viktor, ekko, silco, vander, jinx, vi, sevika)

In less than a week, I’ve gained 500 followers and over 20 requests, so I’ll ask you right away to please be patient. English isn’t my first language, and I don’t think I’ll be able to post more than two or three headcanons a week (since I also draw). I’m sorry to keep you waiting, but I just ask for a little patience. In the meantime, if you’d like to support me, you can follow me HERE (bluesky) even though I haven’t started posting seriously yet, or you can leave a tip HERE. That said, enjoy!

Viktor:

- The most versatile on the subject. He’s the first one who is constantly around the people of Piltover, studying and having his room at the academy, which is even located in a wealthy area.

- Generally, he doesn’t pay much attention to someone’s origins, but as the relationship grows more serious, memories of his early academy years become more vivid.

- Viktor is a chill guy, until he’s no longer chill, (at least the original one).

- Most heated discussions are likely to revolve around politics or events in the city. But as long as you don’t call the people from the Undercity “beasts,” “creatures,” “monsters,” “beings,” or “animals,” his anger won’t be directed at you.

- At some point, he won’t remember anymore that you’re from “different neighborhoods,” and since he needs a hand carrying things to the academy, he’ll start asking you to accompany him to the Undercity when he needs to make purchases or pick up pre-ordered items.

- And although it might scare or intimidate you at first, it won’t take long for you to get used to it.

- Although sooner or later, you’ll learn to change your clothes before going down to Zaun.

Ekko:

- The first meeting with Ekko is straight out of a book: you get caught in a crossfire, and before you can even begin mentally writing your will, an arm grabs you around the torso and pulls you away at such a high speed that you feel like throwing up.

- He can’t take people directly to the hideout, but he can offer you assistance as soon as you’re somewhere safer.

- This is why, the second time he saves you, he can’t help but joke about how it almost seems like you put yourself in danger on purpose, and that you could ask him out in a less dramatic way.

- Of course, he’s just joking to break the tension, but when you actually propose it, even just as a way to repay him, it’s the beginning of the end.

- Between your outfit and the fact that, having run into you twice in a crossfire, you were in some pretty dangerous places, the last thing he expected was for you to ask him to meet up at the bridge and then show up dressed like a Piltie.

- Before his meeting with Cait and the one with Jayce, this would’ve been a breaking point; he wouldn’t have shown up and would’ve just gone back. But now, even if he’s not thrilled, he’ll at least come over to complain that you didn’t tell him you were from the upper city.

- He’s resigned to this fate, but he still remains a bit suspicious and on guard, not knowing your political stance, why you were down there, or how you see the people from his city.

- Even as you become closer, he’ll never stop teasing you about your background. You’re drinking, and you drop your cup? “What a strange way Pilties have of drinking.”

Vander:

- Going down to Zaun without stopping by the Last Drop is a waste, which is why you’re lucky enough to run into the Hound of the underground right away. Not only is he one of the most influential people, but also one with a lot of connections.

- At Vander’s suggestion, you stay at the counter, and he uses the opportunity to ask you a few questions, curious: for example, why is someone from Piltover down in Zaun alone at that hour? What do you study, if you study, or what do you do for work, if you work.

- Vander is extremely sociable, and since he handles negotiations, he doesn’t hold hostility toward upper-city residents, though it’s rare to see them in these parts.

- It’s not even about flirting; he just wants to keep chatting and make sure he won’t have you on his conscience. He asks you to wait until closing, checks in on the kids to make sure everything’s okay and says goodnight, then walks you to the bridge.

- The more regular your visits to Zaun become, the more the other regulars at the Last Drop start to recognize you and get used to you, making that place quite pleasant. And then there’s the deal with the bartender: if you offer him a good chat, he’ll treat you to a good pint of beer.

- The toughest part of getting close to Vander is learning that he���s a single father to four kids, and seeing the hostile and shocked reaction of the younger ones when they find out you’re not from their city.

- But hate is taught, and even if it takes some time, they slowly start to get used to you. Maybe they won’t jump into your arms, but if you decide to stay over, they’ll make room for you or bring you something to dry your face with, in strict silence.

Silco:

- This man, though he may not look like it, is the embodiment of patience.

- It’s his goons who bring you to his office, and the first time, all it takes is a quick glance for him to know you’re not a spy, a rival, a drug addict, or a threat.

- Silco kills, but generally not without reason. So, the first time you have a heart-pounding panic attack from being dragged there, you get off with a warning: if they catch you poking around his business again, it won’t go so well for you.

- But today, Janna’s on your side, and you’re safe.

- The issue is much simpler than it seems: if you live in the Undercity, you know which places to avoid and which gangs control which areas. But if you’re just a foolish Piltie who likes wandering outside your own city, the odds of ending up in one mess after another are high.

- That’s why, the second time they catch you near one of their shipments, his goons already have their weapons drawn.

- This time it’s not even Silco who spares you; instead, a firefight with the Firelights breaks out nearby, and you’re just lucky that bigger problems show up at the right moment.

- It happens repeatedly: either you run into his goons and instinctively wave like an idiot, or you end up in restricted areas, and one of them who’s taken a liking to you motions for you to leave, or you start frequenting the Last Drop and see them all more often.

- Gradually, this brings you more often—and with less dread—to the kingpin’s office, who, since even his daughter likes you, first makes sure to get you a map of the Lanes because “you’re obviously so clueless you must be from Piltover” to keep you from getting yourself killed.

- Then he realizes you’re pleasant enough to let you hang out in his office on weekends, when the noise downstairs is so loud that he couldn’t work anyway.

Jinx:

- You’re essentially the “dumb Piltie” stereotype that comes to mind when people in Zaun talk about those from the upper city.

- Deciding to venture into the alleys without any experience or knowledge of the area purely out of curiosity wasn’t your brightest idea, but at this point, it’s too late to turn back.

- That’s why, after hours spent looking for something interesting—colorful explosions that have been common recently near the docks, some chase scenes—you find nothing, give up, and throw yourself into a bar.

- If it were evening, you might hope for more than just a jukebox playing country music, four young guys playing pool in a corner, and a girl sitting at the bar who looks half-asleep while the bartender cleans glasses, but you still decide to sit down and order something local.

- Everyone’s eyes are on you, but the moment the girl with long blue braids lifts her head, the others snap back to what they were doing, and she looks at you, still drowsy and a bit confused.

- Meeting Jinx is the beginning of the end; she rambles on, is relaxed, and the moment she hears you wanted action, she jumps off her stool and drags you out before you can even sip your drink.

- She has no particular reason—it's just rare to find someone who wants to have fun, although you quickly realize that her idea of “fun” involves risking your neck.

- The first time ends like that; you don’t even exchange names. When it gets late, she vanishes, leaving you no choice but to return to the bar in the following weeks, where you meet her again and pick up on that fun “tour.”

- This “tour” brings you closer, even if you never talk about deeply personal things because there’s never time.

- It’s one night when you’re sitting together on a rooftop, watching the distant lights of Piltover, that she learns the hard truth: you’re from the other side of the river. This single piece of information seems to destroy everything you had built. Without a word, she runs off, and you don’t find her at the bar at the usual time anymore, but you don’t stop trying.

- The bartender probably tells her, or she sees you, who knows, because weeks later you meet again, and she almost looks sad to see you.

- She expected you to give up, not to keep coming back despite how difficult she’d made it, which is why when you pull her into a hug, she stiffens, taking a while to hug you back.

- The closer you get, the more she becomes like a ghost. You even find her at your place, but you never see her on the streets in Piltover. She rarely stays over, but you know it’s because of personal issues.

Vi:

- Vi isn’t for everyone: she’s for those with a “savior complex” or hotheads who can take a couple of punches to the face.

- The reason you’re in Zaun, dressed incognito, is because your colleagues told you there’s some interesting stuff in the underground city’s shops.

- What you didn’t expect was that the “interesting find” curled up behind an abandoned building would be a person.

- Nothing too serious, just a brawl gone wrong. She’d hidden to tend to her wounds in peace, probably in that vulnerable “cornered wolf showing its teeth” state.

- Cooperation isn’t her strong suit, and, not to rely on Undercity stereotypes, but you imagine it’s also rare for anyone to help strangers wounded on the street.

- She becomes more docile after you simply stand by, “covering her back”—basically just staying put and shielding her from view. 

- whenyou blurt out, “Forget gin; I need something stronger.” she starts to like you

- Once she recovers, she gestures for you to follow her, suddenly motivated by the urge to drink. Surprisingly, she takes you over the bridge to your own city, to a cozy pub that smells of wood.

- Drinking there becomes a habit; after a few drinks, you tell her you hate that the evening has to end, and she chuckles, flattered, before saying you can always do it again.

- And you do it again.

- You keep doing it until you end up kissing clumsily in the pub’s restroom, nearly knocking heads together, until she pins you to the wall and your brain signals a warning.

- You tell her you live nearby, suggesting you take things to your place, unknowingly revealing something you thought was obvious.

- She stares at you for a few confused seconds. “You didn’t tell me,” she says, but the truth is, Vi doesn’t hate upper-city people, so once the confusion passes, the alcohol and hormones work their magic, leaving that conversation as a problem for the next morning.

Sevika:

- Her only interactions with people from the upper city have been with Enforcers, but contrary to appearances, Sevika is a big, intimidating dog that’s actually quite tame.

- She doesn’t get her hands dirty unless necessary, so even though she has no fondness for Pilties, she’d never start a physical fight with one.

- You first see her in the Undercity, at the Last Drop, playing cards for a hefty sum of money against two shady types: one bald with a metal nose, and the other dressed like an out-of-place gentleman.

- It’s only when the game ends and she gets up to head to the bar that you clumsily manage to strike up a conversation, receiving nothing but a scrutinizing glance in return.

- She lets you buy her a drink despite the large sum she just pocketed, and when you compliment her on her play, she puffs up with pride and starts talking about how those two just cheated but still couldn’t win.

- For a moment—just a moment—she realizes she’s never seen you around here before, but then she goes back to talking and listening, fueled by the alcohol.

- Getting her out of your head becomes impossible, and if you catch her at the end of her shift, she’s even more relaxed. It doesn’t take many weeks before you find yourself with your knees over her shoulders in the Last Drop’s basement.

- Emotional or mental intimacy with Sevika comes at an incredibly slow pace, but she starts approaching you in the bar, and your “private encounters” become more and more frequent—until you try to make things more serious by inviting her up.

- Her reaction seems angry, but it’s more surprise; she hadn’t realized and didn’t expect it.

- She becomes a lot more guarded around you, until, in time, she learns to trust you again.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Let's Make a Deal

Inspired by this post; in the same universe as this and this and this

Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: desperate times bring you to desperate measures.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Is it self-pity or self-loathing that has your skin crawling? You can’t quite discern between the emotions rotting in your stomach. All you know, is you can’t stand yourself. 

You’re here and you’re not turning back now. You might not have a choice but it’s still a choice. This is what you’ve resorted to. You shudder as you stand at the door of the townhouse. You stare at the doorbell above the little speaker box and every doubt rattles in your head. 

‘Seeking companionship. Women without prior experience preferred’. 

You always laughed at the desperate, if not trollish, postings. How ridiculous. You always just scrolled on by, assuming them to be no more than a pathetic attempt at phishing. And if they were real, well, that’s even more pathetic. 

Even standing there, you can’t be sure it isn’t some scheme. Yeah, you emailed the man behind the ad. You even spoke on the phone. Several times. Trying to be sure but you’re still not. 

No one else knows you’re there. You’re too embarrassed for that. It’s foolish too. You could be murdered and no one would know. You’re trying not to think of that. You focus instead on what you stand to gain. 

You reach and press the button before common sense gets the best of you. As you wait, you look down at yourself. It’s just what he wanted. ‘Wear a red dress. That way I know it’s really you’. You grit back another wave of disgust. 

The door opens and you’re not ready. How can you be? It’s the first time you’re seeing him but not the first time he’s seen you. You can’t even hope that he’ll be repulsed. 

You’re silent. Both of you. You gape at him and he stares back. It turns to a leer as his throat bobs and he pushes his shoulders back. He’s bigger than you expect. At least he isn’t the slobbish, greasy man you expected. Not on the outside at least.  

“Hi, sweetie,” it’s the same voice from the call. His name is Steve. “You look...” his eyes skim up and down your figure, “well, I can’t really see. You got this coat on.” 

You force a smile. Your cheeks feel tight. You can’t speak. 

“No need to be nervous,” he grips the door as he holds it open, “hey, why don’t you come inside? You must be freezing out there?” 

You nod and step through the door as he stands back. The warmth feels even more stolid as heat roils within you. You look around the entryway. The subtle ripple of the dark hardwood paneling and the old-style banisters. You feel smaller standing inside. 

“Let me take your coat,” he tugs on the sleeve.  

You don’t stop him. You shrug it off as he strips it away. He turns to hang it in the closet behind the front door and you hug yourself as you take it all in. Not just your surroundings, but your situation. He is a stranger but you’re going to do what you have to do. 

“I like that dress,” he startles you as he comes up next to you. “It’s cute.” 

You glance down. It’s the only red dress you have. It’s not even yours, actually. You borrowed it from a friend and never wore it. 

“Thanks,” you finally find your voice. 

“Mm, you sound sweet,” he rests his hand lightly on your back and you feel like melting as heat radiates off of him. “Let me show you around.” 

You can only nod. Once more, all sound has evaporated from you. You let him lead you into the next room. A living room just as nice as the front hallway. There’s a fireplace and antique fixtures and the furniture is a cozy shade of cream. There’s exposed brick above the mantel as fire burns behind and iron grate. 

You rub your arms, shivering despite the stuffy air. He takes you into the dining room, open to a kitchen with dusty blue counters and deep oak finishes. This place is nice. Big. Much better than the loft you’ve been curled up in for the last two weeks. 

“We can check out upstairs later if you just wanna get settled,” he offers. 

You look at him, cheeks pinching as your throat constricts. He’s tall. His hair is blond but his beard is dark. His shoulders are broad, even beneath his brown jacket, and his grey tee is stretched across his thick chest. You’re entirely outmatched, more than physically. 

“It must be tough. Too bad about the job.” He says. 

You draw away, turning your face down as you crumple in shame. Fired, almost homeless, this is your one way out. He’s nice enough. The place is clean. He is too. But it’s just too much. It can’t be real. 

You did everything right. You graduated high school. Got your degree. All on time. You worked your butt off through both of those yet you could never break through to more than temp work. Now it’s all dried up, just like your contract. They promised you full-time but it never came. 

“Sorry, I know you probably don’t want to talk about that,” he says. 

You shuffle around and go to the mantle. You stare at the flames. You don’t think they’re hot enough to thaw the ice creeping over your heart. This isn’t fair. 

He might be polite, he might be generous, but he’s still some guy looking for a ‘situationship’ on the internet. And you answered. 

You hear him behind you. The floor groans with his weight. You lift your chin and admire the wooden clock on the ledge. You suppose having money can’t help the loneliness. Silence wraps around you, building a shell. 

“Come here,” he says, shaking you from your trance. 

You blink and turn to him slowly. You drop your arms. You push away the chagrin needling your forehead and face him completely. He sits on the couch, legs wide, arm across the back. 

You’re jarred at the sight of him. His chin is down and his eyes are pinpointed on you. You hesitate, fingers fluttering, and make yourself move. One foot, the other, then the first again. 

The glean in his blue eyes chills you. His gaze follows you like an animal. You stop only an inch away. 

“It’s a nice house,” you say. “I don’t mean to be quiet--” 

“I get it. You’re nervous,” he reaches to grab your hand then sits back, tugging you closer. “But you don’t need to play shy.” 

He moves you towards him. He brings his arm off the couch and shifts your hip around as he leads you between his legs. He pushes until you fold, sitting on his leg, teetering on it uneasily. He lets out a gritty hum and urges you to lean against him. 

He curls his arm around your back to keep you in place and brings his other hand up to stroke your cheek. His eyes bore into you. He presses his knuckles to your cheek and brushes his thumb along your lower lip. 

“You’re even more beautiful up close,” he rasps. 

“Thank you,” you utter, lip trembling against his thumb. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he toys with your mouth, tracing it as his fingers dig into your hip. “I can take care of you. You like the place, right? You’ll be comfortable here.” 

“Sure,” you gulp. 

He purrs and pushes his thumb through your lips. You flinch in surprise. He prods at your tongue at he turns his hand to grip your chin, keeping his finger hook in your mouth. 

Your gaze meets his. His eyes search your face as they darken. He takes a deep breath and pulls you closer. He shudders in excitement. 

“I always wanted someone like you, sweetie,” he drags his thumb out of your mouth and wipes the moisture down your chin. He tickles along our throat as you shiver. “So pretty, so pure.” He plays with the collar of your dress, trailing along the vee as he gives a hum. “Are you nervous for your first time?” 

You hold back a whimper. Him saying it out loud makes it real. Coming here, walking through this house, sitting on his lap, those should be enough but those worse are more vivid than anything. You blink and nod. 

“It’s okay, sweetie,” his hand travels down the front of your dress. “I’ll be gentle... until you can take all of me.” 

[loulovingho]

I think I’m still just stuck on Oliver’s will they / won’t they wanting the audience to long for the relationship quote. As well as Tim quote about Buck figuring out who he is and who he wants. And Oliver’s quote about fighting to be together. I am still hopeful of the potential direction they can take this in. I do think this coming episode will be the make or break in a way. If we see villainizing Tommy (which I don’t think they will based on the way both Tim and Oliver sympathized his decision) then I think its over but if we see Chim and Maddie helping Buck to understand Tommy’s actions then I think there’s still a chance. Also to me having Chim and Maddie talk to him is very interesting. They were a couple that fought to be together, broke up and then found their way back to each other. Having them in the scenes with Buck post break up helps me to feel hopeful about the direction they’re going in tbh. I don’t think it will be resolved at all by the end of 8a. But I do think 08.08 may leave off with Buck deciding whether or not he wants to reach out.

Honestly, all the interviews are bullshit. That’s where I am now lol the actors never know wtf is going on. I think they’ve been told so many things and, like, 2 out of 20 have actually turned into something. There was a load of nothing with madney, henren, and mara. Tim had stated that Eddie would be a little left out while Buck and Tommy’s relationship grew and we got more scenes of Eddie with them than without. Buck struggled for like 10 seconds with whether or not he meant to hurt Gerrard, also nothing came from Gerrard taking him under his wing. The Ortiz storyline was meaningless, and Gerrard’s entire arc turned him into a joke. There was no “hurdle” in Buck and Tommy’s relationship, it was a fucking boulder that came through and splintered it into a million pieces.

Ryan even stated that Tim could change the script in an instant, so the actors have no idea what’s happening at any given time and neither does Tim apparently. I’m pretty sure he goes to ao3, randomly selects a fanfic with his eyes closed, then writes his scripts based off of said fic.

I know some people are being positive and saying Maddie and Chimney will help him see Tommy’s perspective, but I have absolutely no faith in the show or its writing whatsoever. I would not be surprised if we got a, “eh, Tommy’s always been distant. Always a runner and tough to crack. You dodged a bullet,” from Chimney. Not because I believe it’s actually something he’d say, but because the writing is so shit that they’d have him say it to further push Tommy out of the narrative. Then, idk, maybe Buck can go on his little fuck tour 🤷🏻‍♀️

[newtkelly]

Not to word vomit on you but I can't stop thinking about Oliver wanting a love story like Tarlos and how it all accidentally lined up.

Knowing that Carlos and TK were about to move in, and then Carlos made that romantic gesture and TK got scared because it was, "too good to be true."

Carlos is left, confused, puzzled and nursing a broken-heart but still just as in love. What do you mean that TK and Carlos saw a future together, one got scared at that prospect and left before Carlos was the one to leave??

What do you mean that happened after Oliver said he wanted Bucktommy to have a love story like Tarlos; where it was always going to be them?

Then you consider Oliver saying that we might see Tommy and Buck interact during a call and it'll be awkward and who can't help but think of TK and Carlos running into the furniture store and seeing each other for the first time in weeks.

Anyways, sorry to be delusional in your ask box. I'm deep within the Tarlos trenches so this is all starting to look eerily familiar lmao (it could also be Tim is out of ideas, which is most likely the case)

Please feel free to word vomit on me always, I live for it.

Receiving this ask has actually prompted me to share some thoughts that I’ve held back from sharing, just because I wasn’t sure if it was worth it to throw more speculation into the void. But this message is so lovely, and I agree with it so much and so… okay I will share some of my mixed bag of thoughts about this whole situation.

Firstly, I adore Tarlos and LS (even if I don’t post about either much), TK is my baby, and the interesting thing about them for me is that I wound up caring for them more AFTER they broke up and got back together. If Buck and Tommy’s story is formatted as a rom-com, TK and Carlos are a tragicomedy. TK, the heartbroken recovering addict thrust into an entirely new city, a new career, who doesn’t want to let himself get too close to something good because he is misery incarnate. Carlos, the hopeful hopeless romantic who sees TK and doesn’t see something that needs fixing, but someone who his love could help heal. It’s such a gorgeous story, and the symmetry of both characters shockingly losing a parent in a tragic way is painfully beautiful. I LOVE their love story.

That brings me to Oliver and Tim’s comments. Throughout the Buck and Tommy relationship, my belief that this would be Buck’s final relationship only ever wavered twice. The first time was in the immediate aftermath of their first date (I spent the whole episode thinking that Tommy was actually reintroduced to kick off the bi awakening plotline and Buck was not acquiring a boyfriend) and the second time was towards the tail end of the summer hiatus when I legitimately began to doubt Lou would want to come back given everything that transpired. Other than that, I had full faith that this was it, this was Buck getting off the “hamster wheel”—Tim’s words, not mine.

I had confidence for a few reasons. 1 – the story was always handled with care onscreen and gave us no reason to think they weren’t going to work out. 2 – the chemistry was insane, and I knew it couldn’t just be me because an entire fandom was born. Tim and tptb must have seen what we saw. 3 – the supplementary information funneled to us through articles and Tim’s social media, literally up until post-8x06 never seemed to indicate that their relationship was headed in this direction. A big part of that was the comparison to Tarlos.

In order to protect myself (should I name the list of shows, movies, couples that I’ve fixated on that wound up playing out in dissatisfying ways?), I am awfully pessimistic. The post-episode interviews, articles, + hearing a bit from LFJ and OS has me wondering if this was some mass hallucination. Did we truly cling to something good and blow it up, run with it? Was this always the plan? I’ve wondered if because S7 was so short and S8 required that other characters get the spotlight first/other stories needed to be told and wrapped, and if because of production and scheduling and whatever external reasons, did their relationship wind up having a longer life than was ever intended. Were they ever supposed to make it to six months? Were they ever supposed to make it past the fucking wedding? I have been asking myself this stuff a lot. Alternatively, did something happen that made them want to or have to part ways with LFJ? So many questions, and I’m not sure we’ll ever know.

But… then there’s the delusional side of me, and the reason I haven’t totally abandoned hope is because when I was watching 8x06 live, EVERYTHING in me told me that this is a necessary section of the rom-com formula. Even the call-backs throughout the episode made me feel like the writers are so painfully aware, and that the narrative wants these characters to be together (Miceli’s, Abby, basketball, going to the movies, calling an uber, the loft kitchen, “you’re not ready”)—the motifs were absolutely popping off. I did not think it was the end when the episode ended. I wondered when and how they would find their way back to each other to fulfill the rom-com genre, but what I did NOT expect was to open social media and see articles framing this as the end. I wasn’t surprised when I found out who wrote the articles, and listen—if they bait one side of the fandom, can’t they bait the other? I still have some hope, because at the end of the day, anything can happen with network television. Maybe this is all part of the plan, and the interviews should be taken with a grain of salt. I just don’t know.

Interviews with Tim and Oliver from day one positioned the Buck and Tommy relationship as a queer love story devoid of trauma. Okay, well… huh. From where I was sitting, there was A TON of explicitly queer trauma exposed in 8x06. Their “hurdle” is tied utterly and completely to queerness. Tommy runs because he is a gay man who doesn’t trust that his bisexual boyfriend should “settle” for him, and who would rather be alone than heartbroken, and if that truly is the last of Tommy, it has to be one of the coldest and cruelest exits we’ve ever seen on this show. Do they simply not realize how deeply traumatized both characters come off in that episode, or is it all part of the plan? If the interviews positioning this as the permanent end of bucktommy should be taken at face value, shouldn’t the other interviews that position them as a rom-com (with the formulaic third act breakup, boils and all) be taken as the truth as well? If there was some misinterpretation, why hasn’t Tim said anything—he clearly knows a lot of fans were hurt by what they watched. He must have seen the outrage—why radio silence? Did we truly blow this out of proportion? Are the wheels coming off behind the scenes? I need a tell-all at this point lol

Thank you for the lovely ask, I’ve been sitting with these thoughts all week so this was a good excuse to finally articulate them. <3

[weenie-extraordinaire]

Okay, I know reading comprehension on this website is non-existent, so I'll try to use small words in non-complex ways.

The USA was the first country in the world to recognize Israel as a State. Not a United State of America, an independent Nation State.

Do you know when Israel started receiving US financial aid? The late 1940's, after they recognized Israeli sovereignty.

Do you know when Israel started receiving US military aid? The 1960's. It started with Kennedy and the Raytheon Hawk Anti-Air missile system.

Do you know how many treaties, agreements, memorandums of understanding, and defense cooperation agreements the USA has with Israel? A lot. A hell of a lot.

What does this mean, you ask? It means that your country has got a shitload of bureaucracy tying your government to their government, and despite all the enthusiasm to blame "the Biden Administration" for providing the means to slaughter tens of thousands of Palestinians, invade Lebanon, and bomb Iran, well, Israel already had nearly 600 Foreign Military Sales authorized through the US Foreign Military Financing program(as of October 2023), with a ten year Memorandum of Understanding signed in 2019 and valid until 2028. This wasn't some snap decision from "sleepy Joe" to arm Israel; y'all have been doing so since before the towers fell, since before the Berlin wall fall, hell, since before the assassination of JFK.

Do you understand now, or do you need a bit more explanation?

I'm gonna assume you still don't understand.

Close to 60 years of inertia cannot be brought to an immediate halt by any President. There are far too many intelligence, military, economic, and diplomatic ties with Israel to just make it all just... go away. It ain't happening overnight. It didn't happen under Biden. It certainly ain't happening in the next four years. And you might wanna include the full context of the quote you pulled, because cherrypicking is for cowards.

riotbard wrote: surprising absolutely no one but in a contest between 99% Hitler and 100% Hitler the voters wanted full Hitler. They don’t want bargain value Hitler they want the full thing. Oh well, guess next time we’ll run 102% Hitler and see if THAT excites these ungrateful assholes. Didn’t even want Dollar Tree Hitler smh

weenie-extraordinare wrote: This looks and sounds both incredibly fucking unhelpful and terminally online. So Joe Biden and Kamala Harris aren't perfect and beautiful beings of light here to save the world from a shitty celebrity criminal. So they didn't singlehandedly tell a sovereign nation explicitly to stop committing genocide. So they didn't go far enough left for you. Okay. Instead of spending your time crying over how much everyone else in your country loves Hitlers, maybe go outside and talk to people instead of holing up online and blaming the political party that does not want to strip you of your rights for not beating the party that does want to strip you of your rights. Like, I get it, it's not a great time for America. But it could be worse, and now, it will be worse. And if you thought Joe and Kamala were Hitlers, well, just wait and see what Trump has planned for women, Palestine, and Ukraine.

Motherfuckers be like, "Do you know your history?" Better than you yankee-fucking-doodles, apparently. Thank god y'all are just screaming into an internet void instead of saying this kind of shit to people's faces. Y'all make a huge deal out of pointing the finger at your politicians, carrying on like Biden is out there personally, when it's Israel's IDF pulling triggers and slaughtering children. Yeah, the USA is selling them munitions and bombs. It's Israel that's using them. Don't get it so twisted that you're ignoring who is actually murdering the people of Palestine. And let's be real here, y'all pulled a post about "Kamala Harris is not Hitler because a nation she is not the VP of is committing genocide" and turned it into "Look at this fucking verminous approbate, he thinks the black woman isn't a hitler!" And then it kinda swung into "OF COURSE the Biden Administration was solely responsible for allowing them to bom Palestine, and not the blank check written by the US FMF(Foreign Military Financing program)." Y'all so up your own asses over your moral rectitude that you'll dogpile any motherfucker who doesn't bark how you do. Maybe write some letters to your congress, your governors, anyone who represents you, and make your opinions heard. Maybe present those opinions as staunch opposition to the Israeli genocide of Palestinians instead of trying the "Kamala Harris is 99% a Hitler" approach.

And for the record, I have opposed the Israeli occupation of Palestine since the first time I hear about it in the 90's. I still oppose it. I will continue to oppose it. The absolute carnage that is being wrought today is inexcusable. It was inexcusable from the first Nakba, through each fresh conflict, and to the present day.

Free Palestine. End the genocide.

Hey, quick question, who's killing Palestinians? Is it Israelis, or is it Americans? I'd have replied, but you have replies restricted.

September 2, 2024

You know as well as I do that Israel wouldn't have been able to commit this holocaust or invade Lebanon or bomb Iran without the enthusiastic steadfast unwavering zero-red-line ironclad support of the Biden administration. I'm not going to entertain your faux incredulity. It is transparent horseshit.

[rainydetectiveglitter]

I'm roasting myself 😭

Pisces in the 4th House: Oh, look at you, always yearning for deep emotional connections, like you’re trying to create a spa retreat in your living room. How’s that working out? Still waiting for your “soul family” to show up? Meanwhile, you’re probably sitting there watching "The Notebook" and wondering why your group chat doesn’t have those cute inside jokes. Maybe because you're busy trying to merge with everyone’s feelings like a walking emotional sponge.

Gemini in the 7th House: You probably can’t commit to a single thought for more than 15 seconds, let alone a relationship. "I love you... but let's talk about this podcast first!" You’re the friend who, mid-conversation, wonders if you’re supposed to be hanging out or reading about the latest conspiracy theory. Seriously, stop switching personalities every time you meet someone new. You’re not auditioning for a role in "The Real Housewives of Overthinking."

Libra in the 11th House: You want everyone to get along, huh? The world’s not a Pinterest board, sweetie. I bet you’re the person who tries to keep the peace at parties and then somehow ends up hating everyone, including yourself. You probably judge every group chat emoji choice and feel personally offended if someone uses Comic Sans. Just admit it—you’re more interested in making everything look perfect than actually being part of anything real.

Lilith in the 3rd House in Aquarius: Oh, the rebellious intellectual, huh? I’m sure your genius insights have really changed the world. Too bad most people can’t hear your revolutionary ideas over your constant need to be “different” for the sake of being different. You think you're the visionary in the group, but let’s face it: you’re just the person who shows up at dinner parties with a new conspiracy theory you found online—and, no, it’s not as clever as you think.

Chiron in Leo: You want to be adored, don’t you? But you’ll never admit it. You’re the one who tries to "hide" the fact that you need constant validation, yet you can’t resist fishing for compliments like a catfish on a dating app. Maybe if you stopped trying to be the center of attention for two seconds, someone would actually notice how great you are without needing a spotlight to shine on it.

Moon Square Venus: Your emotional life is like a badly planned romantic comedy. You say you want to be loved, but you also want to keep your emotional distance, which leaves you stuck between making everyone feel like you're the one while also throwing a tantrum when they don’t read your mind. You're like that person who orders an elaborate drink at Starbucks and then complains that the barista didn’t know the exact temperature you like.

Mars in Cancer: You’re the passive-aggressive champion of the zodiac. Why say what you feel when you can silently stew and cook up a whole emotional storm in your head, right? You want to protect everyone, but no one can ever quite tell if you're offering a hug or planning their emotional downfall. Your idea of “assertiveness” is posting a vague meme on social media instead of just speaking up.

Sagittarius Rising: “Let’s go on an adventure!”—but you’ll probably be late, cancel last-minute, or spend the whole time questioning whether you should’ve just stayed home to think about how much better the adventure could’ve been. You’re the person who tries to live like they’re in a travel blog, but can’t even commit to where to eat on a Saturday night.

I'm going to go cry now 😢

[tinkeli]

Stay. ✧ Rain Carradine x fem!reader

Warnings: Alcohol use, shameless smut, language

Summary: You've been pining over your best friend's ex for months. Of course, she'd never like you back. Probably.

Author's note: first post on tumblr in years, and also my first fanfic ever lol. English is not my first language so I'm sorry about any grammar mistakes, also wrote this when sick so it might be confusing LMAO. Anyways i need rain so bad it isnt funny anymore

wc: ~4,7k

✶

“Rain.” The name rolled off your tongue smoothly, as if you had repeated it a lot - which you had. To yourself, mostly. Tyler stood in front of you, his curious expression shifting to one of slight bewilderment. 

“Rain? You like her?” He spoke, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Tyler was your best friend. Knew you better than anyone. What he didn’t know was that you liked girls. More specifically his ex.

 Didn’t know. Until now.

You nodded, gaze drifting to your feet, almost shamefully. You knew he would never be mad at you for something like this, but it was still a difficult admission to make.

“Tyler, I’m sorry. I just-” You started, reaching out to place a hand on his arm, trying to ease him. 

“Y/n, It’s… Okay.” He muttered, giving you an unreadable look, his thick eyebrows slightly twitching, unsure. Tyler’s relationship with Rain hadn’t ended well, him still clearly having feelings for her. “At least she could actually like you.” He adds, chuckling dryly. Rain had realized she wasn’t into guys, that being the main reason for their break-up a few months ago. You gave him a reprimanding frown. That wasn’t something he should joke about.

You needed to glance away for a moment to gather your thoughts. You knew him. The way he was acting, he wasn’t telling you everything. Tightening your grip on his arm, you spoke, voice laced with guilt: “It doesn’t seem to be ‘okay’…” 

Tyler, ever the people-pleaser - at least when it came to you - gave you a weak smile. “It’s okay, promise.” He shook your hand off your arm to place his large hand on your shoulder. “Go for it, I say.” He spoke, pausing to swallow thickly. “What Rain and I had - it’s in the past. We don’t have any hard feelings, never had.”

You took a heavy breath, looking up at him. “Still… Would you really be okay with your best friend dating your ex?” You spoke quietly, grateful for the warmth of his hand on your shoulder seeping through your shirt and grounding you to reality. “Would it not hurt you?”

Tyler shrugged. “Nah. Like I said, what’s done is done.” He spoke, reassuringly looking down at you. “And who’s to say you won’t get rejected?” He added with a grin, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

“Funny.” You remarked sarcastically. But he was right. Did Rain even like you? It’s not like Jackson’s Star had lots of women (or people in general) she could’ve trusted.

✶

As you walked home through the dingy and filthy streets of the colony, clenching and unclenching your hands beside you, Rain was the only thing in your mind. As usual. Did she like you? Could she ever? Who even was she? Rain Carradine certainly was a woman of many questions. Ones you wished, prayed, you would get the answers to.

The next day, you were making your daily commute to the mines. Only a few more 9-hour shifts and you’d have filled the quota for getting out of here. Of course, nobody ever really got away.

You learned that when you were still young. The memory of seeing your parents so crushed over another increase in their required quota would always stay with you. They had died almost 10 years ago. It seemed that everyone’s parents were slowly dropping dead, being overworked since the age of 16. You were sort of lucky, having lost them before your age even reached double digits. You didn’t remember that much about the time you had with them. 

Your thoughts drifted to Rain again, as you walked through the crowded main street of the colony. You wondered if she ever missed her parents, how well she knew them. She was enigmatic. Every time you thought you were getting to know her, it seemed as if yet another layer of the walls she had built around herself materialized to replace the one you had just broken down. You felt like you didn’t know her at all, despite her having been a part of your group for 3 years at this point. 

You worked through your numbing mining shift, clocking out when it was 3pm. What to do now? It was Friday, so it was typical of your friend group - more like family at this point - to gather up in your favorite bar to get drunk and forget about all your problems. 

You headed home, utterly exhausted. You were glad it was only 3pm. You had time to rest. You took a hot shower, the warm water easing the aching in your body, before taking a short but effective nap. You made yourself some food and cleaned your small flat a bit to distract yourself.

Still, she found her way into every thought in your head. Especially her eyes - God, her eyes. The prettiest color you had ever seen. The first time Tyler brought Rain to meet the group back when they had just gotten together, you were all but enchanted. Her eyes were perfectly shaped, like the almonds your parents used to buy for meals on special occasions. The color reminded you of your favorite flowers - irises. You had only seen photos of them in books, but they were still your favorite. Her eyes sparkled like light-blue sapphires when hit by the artificial lights on the streets. Whenever you two would have a conversation, however short, you would have to force yourself to look somewhere other than her eyes for even a moment. 

Strange. Eye-contact was usually really not your thing.

Neither were blue eyes, really. Before meeting Rain, of course. For example, Tyler’s cousin’s icy blue eyes were kinda creepy. Pretty, yeah. But creepy. Like he could look right into your soul with those things. Full offense. Bjorn was an asshole. Though you had a soft spot for him.

How you wished you would get a closer look at her eyes. Much closer. You had spent more nights fantasizing about her than you would’ve liked to admit. Her mouth on yours, those strong arms wrapped around you, small but deft fingers fucking in and out of you. Fuck. You really have to get it together. 

✶

Time passed when you stayed busy doing menial chores. Soon, it was time to get ready to meet the others. You felt an almost nauseating excitement pool in the pits of your stomach, knowing you would get to see her. The excitement mixed with a debilitating uneasiness, having a hunch that you would make a fool of yourself in front of her, some way or the other. Still, you decided to put on your hottest dress. The short, black one that accentuated all your curves in just the right ways. 

You walked to the bar, luckily only a mile or so away from your apartment. You flashed the bouncer your ID, slowly walking inside. You looked around for the others, spotting Tyler, Bjorn, Navarro and Kay sitting around a table in the corner. You greeted them, settling next to Tyler. It was kind of awkward, since the last conversation you two had had was about your crush on his ex. 

You intently listened to the others talk, expecting Rain and her brother to appear any second, like they always do. Still, an hour passed. Then another. At this point, you were pretty wasted. Your filter tended to disappear when you got alcohol into your system, so you finally built up the courage to ask the others about Rain’s whereabouts. 

“Hey… Where’s Rain..?” You spoke, voice slurring slightly as you held a half-empty beer can in your hand.

“She should already be here...” Kay said, furrowing her brows and looking at the others, in case they knew. 

When no one had an answer, you started to feel the worry in your stomach build, making your stomach churn. It sobered you up. Rain was never late. You had learned that in your many months of observing her.

“Should we go check on her?” Tyler asked, the unease evident in his voice as well.

“I’ll go.” You slid out of your seat, not leaving any room for arguments. It was strange enough that she was late. Even stranger that Andy hadn’t shown up to tell you guys about it.

You ditched the group despite their protests about going outside, drunk and alone, dressed in that tiny dress. You knew where Rain lived. She had gotten her own apartment near the others’ trailer after her and Tyler broke up - she didn’t want to be around him much. Things got back to normal, but she decided to keep living there with Andy. Said it suited her more.

You slightly stumbled while walking up the stairs, past the other apartments. It was honestly a miracle that you managed to find the right door in such a state of panic and intoxication. You knocked on the door frantically. “Rain! Andy!” You yelled, pressing your ear against the door to listen for any movements.

Sure enough, you heard shuffling from behind the door. You leaned back just before the door swung open, revealing a tired-looking Rain.

“Hey.” She spoke quietly, her eyes taking in your disheveled appearance. “You been through a hurricane?”

You let out an audible sigh of relief.

“You didn’t come. T-to the bar, I mean.” You explained, breathless. God. You had never been so glad to see her.

 Even now, you couldn’t help your eyes trailing from her eyes to the clothes she was wearing. Or the lack of them. Rain was clad in only short shorts and a tank top. Your breath hitched in your throat as you took in the sight.

“Didn’t feel like it.” She spoke nonchalantly and shrugged. She gave you a look. Must’ve noticed you ogling at her. Shit.

“Come in. You look like hell.” She said, voice warming up a bit.

You felt your stomach flutter with the force of at least a thousand butterflies. Still, you complied - of course you did.

You shook your shoes off, following her into her small flat. She sat down on the couch, looking up at you with an unreadable expression. You swallowed, following her and gingerly sitting down next to her. 

A tense silence fell between the two of you. You two rarely hung out alone.

“So… Any reason you wanted me here?” You spoke carefully, trying your best to pronounce your words clearly despite being drunk and still reeling from the panic you were feeling the whole way there. 

Sitting there, just you and her, made your insides twist in nervousness. You studied her profile, her beautifully sloped nose, the way her brown hair was messily tied up, but still somehow managed to look put together.

After a moment, Rain responded.

“Not really. Jus’ felt lonely. Andy’s been installing some kinda software update for an hour now.” She spoke, taking a sip off the almost full aspen beer bottle on the coffee table.

“So you’re drinking alone ‘cause you feel lonely? Even though you could’ve come to the bar with us?” You felt the earlier panic and worry subside now that you had found her, giving way to your usual drunken demeanor.

She gave you a small chuckle. Her smile was so pretty. Pure.

“Guess so.” She muttered, taking a larger swig, finishing the bottle in one go.

Fuck, that was hot. You couldn’t take your eyes off the way she let her head fall back, how her throat moved when she swallowed. You felt a warm thrum low in your stomach, instinctively bringing your thighs closer together when you felt your core ache for her, getting wetter by the second. Why did beer always have to make you so damn horny? You cleared your throat nervously, trying not to stare at her too hard.

“Got any more beer for me? Since you’re evidently not letting me back to the bar.” You tried sounding casual, shifting to a bit more comfortable position on the couch.

She scoffed, but got up and walked to the fridge. “If you want to leave, I can’t stop you.” She spoke, walking back to the couch with a couple of bottles for the both of you. She sat down and passed you a bottle. “I just… Hope you don’t.” She added more quietly.

Her words made your heart skip a beat, and you tried your best to hide any signs of the turbulence happening through your entire body.

“I… I won’t leave.” You choked out, gripping the beer bottle tighter as your gaze involuntarily wandered to her almost bare legs. The legs you had often pictured on your shoulders, your face buried in her pussy. Fuck…

“You okay?” She shifted closer, leaning closer to your face. “You look a bit flushed…”

Oh fuck she’s right there. You gave her a smile that was a bit too wide, nodding. “Oh, i-it’s probably just… Just the alcohol.” You stammered, your grip on the beer bottle tightening.

“If you say so…” She muttered. You almost exhaled in relief, but she didn’t move away completely, just leaning back slightly. She stayed there, close, looking at you intently. You tore your gaze away from hers to take a sip of the crappy beer you all had gotten used to drinking.

“Are you and Tyler together?” You suddenly heard Rain nonchalantly speak from beside you, making you almost spit out your drink. 

“Oh- fuck no.” You chuckled dryly. “Just friends. He’s more like a brother to me than anything.” You add, wanting to make your relationship with him abundantly clear.

She hummed thoughtfully at that, taking a small sip of beer, before meeting your gaze again.

“Have you ever been together with anyone?” She questioned, slightly tilting her head to the side. God, how was she always so calm? You felt like you were about to combust.

“No… Just some random hookups in bars.” You mused, absentmindedly rotating the beer bottle in your hand. “Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering…” She drawled, giving you a strange look. She was smirking at you, her expression almost smug. 

You finished your beer bottle, setting it onto the wooden coffee table with a clink. As you settled back onto the couch, you noticed the way she was slightly leaning towards you while facing forward, nearly laying her head on your shoulder. You felt the butterflies make their return, the almost nauseating flutter making you swallow and slightly tense up.

“You sure you’re okay..?” She spoke quietly and turned to face you, placing a hand on your thigh like it was nothing. You immediately looked at her hand, eyes widening. You forced yourself to meet her gaze, opening your mouth to speak. But no words came out.

“What’s the matter, y/n?” She rolled her tongue across her lower lip, making direct eye contact with you. Your breath hitched as you saw her gaze flicker down to your lips for a fraction of a moment, before returning to your panicked eyes.

Her eyes were dark. The pretty blue irises were almost completely eclipsed by her pupils. Had she done drugs? You cluelessly thought to yourself, so oblivious to what Rain was thinking about. Her hand tightened on your thigh, and she leaned closer and closer, until you could see every little pore on her skin, even in the dim light. Is she oka-

And then, her lips were on yours.

It took a moment for you to register what was happening, only coming back to reality once you felt her small hand on your almost hot cheek, the other still on your thigh.

You immediately felt all reason fly out the window, your hand snaking up her back to her neck to grab onto something - anything. All you could think about was how much you needed to touch her. 

You tilted your head to deepen the kiss, your grip on her neck slightly tightening as you felt her tongue enter your mouth. She was really good at this, her tongue swirling around yours, tasting you. She took her hand off your cheek, placing it on your waist, her other hand running up your thigh to your hip. Without breaking the kiss, she pulled you to her lap, making you straddle her.

One of her hands inched onto your back, her fingers teasingly running over the zipper of your dress. She pulled away, looking up at you with an intensity you had never seen on her face. She looked otherworldly, her eyes half-lidded with arousal, lips glistening with saliva.

“You have no idea how much I want you.” She whispered breathlessly. “You knew exactly what you were doing,” She paused to nip at your neck, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. “Coming to my place in that dress.” She continues placing wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, slowly opening the zipper on your back.

You damn near moaned at just her words, her every touch making your blood run hotter and hotter. She lazily rolled the short hem of your dress above your ass, pulling the item over your head. She let it fall to the floor, taking in the sight in front of her. She looked up at you with a cocky smirk. “You’re not even wearing a bra…” She drawled, sounding almost condescending.

You didn’t have much time to dwell on her tone of voice, her hands moving to palm at your tits greedily. “So perfect…” She sighed shakily, leaning down slightly in order to give your nipple a tentative lick. You whined at the sensation, hearing her chuckle against your skin. 

Rain started licking, sucking, and nibbling at your breast while her other hand pinched and flicked at the other, making your head fall back. You shivered and gasped at the sensations she was making you feel, certainly far better at this than the random drunk girls you had hooked up with before.

Still, it wasn’t enough. The shivers of pleasure coursed straight to your aching core, your panties already soaked, uncomfortably so. Your hands grasped at her muscular arms desperately as you looked down at her. “Please, Rain… More.” You breathed, voice trembling with arousal. 

“Fine, fine…” She shook her head in resignation. “Lie down for me.” She purred, letting you get off her lap and lie on the surprisingly comfortable couch. She was on you instantly, forearms planted on either side of your head as her lips crashed onto yours. Her knee nestled between your legs, grinding against your arousal. You moaned into her mouth, the slight relief making you rub against her leg desperately.

“You’re so needy…” She muttered, looking at you underneath her. Her face was flushed, and eyes practically glazed over with lust. “Need’a taste you.” She whispered huskily, even just her voice making you gush. “Please…” You whined as she planted kisses down your neck, nibbling at your collarbone, definitely leaving a mark. She slowly moved down your body, showering it with little bites and kisses, before reaching the waistband of your panties.

“Fuck, you’re wet.” She mused under her breath, placing her hands onto your inner thighs, pushing them apart and pressing a finger against your damp panties. You inhaled sharply, quietly whining as she began to lightly circle your clit. “So pretty…” She murmured, increasing the pressure. You instinctively snapped your hips towards her, needing more. She let out a low chuckle, enjoying the reactions she was able to draw out of you. “Want me to take these off?”

You nodded frantically, lifting your hips slightly to allow her to carefully slide the last article of clothing off you. She lowered herself down to her stomach, inhaling the scent of your arousal. 

“Please, Rain-” You whined, hands clenching around the couch’s soft cushion.

“Please what?” She grinned up at you, tilting her head slightly. “Use your words, sweetie.”

“Please, eat me out!” You whimpered, your hand subconsciously moving to grab the hair on the back of her head.

“‘Atta girl.” She purred, plunging her face into your dripping pussy. She licked a stripe across the length of your core, tasting you. You let out a soft moan, trying to keep your body as still as possible. Her hands grabbed at your thighs, keeping the spread apart with ease as she worked, lapping up your juices, using the tip of her tongue precisely, making your legs shake. She dipped her tongue inside you, essentially fucking you with it. God, no one had ever eaten you out this well. You let out needy whines and moans, probably a bit too loud for Rain’s neighbors. But neither of you cared, so lost in the moment.

Your head fell back as Rain slid two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out in tandem with her mouth’s movements. Her fingers curled up, just enough to hit that spot that makes you lose it. You were so close. “Rai-in..!” You whined, tightening your grip in her hair. “...’M so- close!” Your words were pathetically desperate and slurred, the movements of her fingers and mouth making the pleasure coil in your stomach.

Then, she pulled away. You whined at the loss, looking down at her with a downright devastated expression. “Not yet.” She tutted, making eye contact with you as she licked her fingers clean. “Wanna enjoy this…” 

After a moment of kissing and sucking at the soft flesh of your inner thighs, she leaned back down again, her breath hitting your oversensitive core. You groaned, your hand in her hair tightening but not pushing her down. “Now, what do we say, sweetie?” She spoke, rubbing up and down your thigh.

“Please.” You choked out, earning a smirk from her.

“Good girl.” She continued what she was doing earlier, her tongue drawing shapes and letters onto your folds and clit. Her fingers returned to your entrance, teasing it a bit before slipping inside again. It didn’t take long for her to have you a moaning, panting mess again. You started to feel the tension in your stomach build, until you were teetering right on the edge.

“Come on my face, baby.” Rain chuckled against you, giving you one last languid lick and sending you right over the edge. Your walls clenched around her fingers as you did exactly what she told you to. Your head fell back with a loud moan of her name, your whole body tensing momentarily as all you saw were stars. She coaxed you through your orgasm, slowly moving her tongue against you. She got up from her position between your legs, hovering over you with a smirk on her face.

Your eyes fluttered open to see her on top of your breathless body. She looked ethereal. Her hair was ruffled, cheeks flushed a light shade of pink, lips and chin glistening with saliva and your juices. Jesus Christ…

“You’re so beautiful…” You muttered, running your thumb over her lower lip and bringing it to your own lips to taste yourself, keeping eye contact. You noticed how she slightly twitched at the sight, clearly struggling with her own neediness.

“I wanna make you feel good, too…” You looked up at her almost pleadingly, meeting her large, oh so pretty eyes.

Rain grinned. “How could I say no to that?”

She pulled you on top of her, her hands on your waist. Panting, lips slightly parted, you looked at her splayed out underneath you.

You leaned in to capture her lips in a kiss trailing your hand lower down her body, playing with the hem of her shirt. One of her hands tangled in your hair while the other stayed on your waist.

You broke the kiss for a moment, pulling her tank top over her head. Seeing her bare chest and stomach made your stomach do a flip. “You’re so… so hot.” You muttered in awe, hands lightly running down her sides. She gave you a coy smile in response.

You began trailing kisses down her neck, making her gasp and shiver underneath you. Slowly your hands made their way to her shorts, and you hooked your thumbs under the waistband, tugging them off almost frantically.

You pressed your fingers against her damp panties, applying just enough pressure to make her desperate for more. It took all you had not to tear her panties off and eat her out until she came on your face. You needed to be patient. The sounds of Rain’s soft whines, the ruffling of fabric, and your heavy breathing filled the air of the otherwise quiet apartment.

“Take them off already…” She frustratedly huffed, which you chuckled at, complying. You carefully pulled her panties off her legs, discarding them to the floor next to you. 

Seeing Rain completely bare in front of you almost made you come again. You had been waiting for this moment for months. You took a shaky breath, leaning in to place a surprisingly soft kiss onto her lips, palming at her breasts. They felt just right, the warm and soft flesh fitting perfectly into your slightly cupped hands. She moaned into your mouth, making you shiver with anticipation.

You trailed your hands lower, one settling on her hip bone, the other running between her slick folds, eliciting a sharp inhale from her. Your index and middle fingers lightly circled her clit, making her whine louder, arching her back and squirming. You pulled away from the kiss for a moment to look at her reactions, the way her brows knitted together, how her eyes fluttered shut when applying pressure to just the right spots. 

You teased her entrance with your fingers, slowly inserting one, then two fingers. It took a few tentative pumps to find the right angle to curl your fingers at. Her head fell back with a high-pitched cry, a sound you thought you would never hear her utter. You smirked at her reaction, picking up the pace, grinding your palm onto her clit as obscene squelching sounds resonated from your fingers moving inside her.

“Please… Your mouth..!” Rain mewled, sending a jolt of excitement coursing through your entire body. “Of course.” You murmured, settling yourself between her legs. You inhaled her intoxicating scent, making your head spin more than any beer you had drunk.

You dove into her folds fearlessly, your other hand gripping her thigh while the other kept moving inside her. You gave her core an earnest lick across the whole length like she had done to you, feeling her hand fly to your hair and grab onto it desperately.

“F-fuck...” She groaned as you began to lap at her, tasting every spot your tongue could reach, flicking and running across all the places that made her moan. Your fingers worked steadily as your tongue flickered over her clit, using your flat tongue to make her whole body arch against you. As you edged her closer and closer to release, her hand tightened in your hair, the slight pain turning to pleasure - it was Rain doing this to you after all.

“Y/n– I’m close.” She gasped, her legs trembling slightly. You hummed against her, ever so slightly increasing the fervor of your movements. After a beat, her hand clenched around your hair, the other grasping at the edge of the couch. “Ah- y/n!” She cried out, her walls fluttering around your fingers as the waves of pleasure crashed over her. You did what she had done to you, lightly licking at her as she came down from her high.

You timidly get up from between her legs, returning to hover on top of her. You reach out to caress her cheek, affectionately rubbing circles on her skin with your thumb.

“You did so good.” She praised, voice husky from the exertion. You smiled wide. Looking at her, flushed and breathing heavily, you felt your heart swell, knowing you were the one who made her feel like this, made her feel good. 

You carefully lowered yourself into a lying position on top of her, utterly exhausted. A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as your breathing evened out.

“Will you stay the night?” She quietly, almost shyly, spoke, playing with your hair.

You nodded. “Of course.”

For a moment, you wondered if the others would worry about the two of you disappearing. But it didn’t really matter to either of you at that moment. 

✶

Thanks for reading!! Feedback is appreciated <3

[mage-ical-character-person]

Actually, I really liked the WOTFI overall, it’s only the ending that rubbed me the wrong way.

We got Puzzles and Leggy bonding in the Meme Factory mini-arc and I’m satisfied with the amount of it that was in WOTFI. There’s still time for Meggy’s feelings on the situation to be explored as a sort of epilogue, wouldn’t be the first time.

I liked the battle being musical it suits Puzzles well. And it’s not like it wasn’t tense during the musical number. The bit where Four and Mario saved Meggy when Puzzles tried to slam her into the ground was awesome. I love that Four sucks at fighting until someone he cares about is in danger and the adrenaline kicks in.

I think it’s fun that if everything had gone according to plan and they hadn’t turned Meggy back… Puzzles would’ve just… kept them playing minigames forever. You’ll play fun games with him and LIKE IT!

Ties into the fact that he’s always calling the crew his “friends”. Y’know

Brainwashing people to force them to spend time with him. He tried asking nicely and it didn’t work. This is the closest to friendship he’s gonna get and he’s just resigned himself to that.

And Meggy is genuinely convinced this is what’s best for him. Alas, the traumatized beanie girl has too much trust in the justice system 😔.

Wish we’d gotten to see her be his lawyer and have him plead insanity thinking this would help.

She’s trying to help even if she’s still really mad at Puzzles! I love that for her! I love her going “I know there’s a scared little child inside you” and trying to help him and get through to him but still being mad about what he’s done and having trouble letting that go even when confronting the most vulnerable part of Puzzles! She finds that scared little child with the intent of talking him down and ends up just yelling at him, but she also literally gave him a part of herself with Leggy!

I think that’s part of what’s made me more okay with the ending. I’ve come around to it a liiittle bit. I still don’t like it because implications of insane asylum and Puzzles was already treading a line there of being a sort of “I’m a twisted cycle path and I’m going to Jeff the Kill you while the song Pretty Little Psycho plays” thing. Y’know the trope: mostly benign due to sheer unseriousness but still sorta villainizing poor mental health.

But… Y’know the more I think about it the less it feels like Meggy was intentionally tricking Puzzles or using his vulnerable, lonely inner child against him. And that makes me a little more okay with it all. I still don’t like it. I don’t blame Puzzles for feeling like he’s been “double-crossed”, but I don’t blame Meggy either (not that I did before. Before I saw it as cruel but understandable in universe given the circumstances, now I see it as Meggy is so well-meaning she wants to help everyone so bad but Meggy. Honey. No…)

Meggy’s earnestly trying to help! I just wish Mario had let Puzzles talk for long enough that he and Four could get some idea what’s going on with Puzzles. (LET FOUR SEE HIMSELF IN PUZZLES ALREADY. THE NARRATIVE FOIL OF ALL TIME! GUYS WHO CARE TOO MUCH ABOUT PLEASING AN AUDIENCE AND ARE BAD AT EMPATHY! BELOVED!) Because right now the only one with any idea what he’s going through is so incredibly ill-equipped to help him and frankly shouldn’t have to! also this

She’s so well meaning but bad at it! I think about this line more than I should! Went to helping people school they told her to whack people with golf clubs and she sees no problems with this.

So bad at helping! Mario would literally rather die! I love her!

uuuhhh where’s that post

Also OOOH! I’ll have to keep an eye out for your fanfic.

sooo…

WOTFI

THEY DIDNT ADDRESS ANY OF THE PARALLELS AND THEN THEY

INSTITUTIONALIZED HIM

I’m so mad about this. I’m so mad. I’m so mad.

because okay. Okay remember this.

His super dramatic flinch here and there was that post going around like “I wonder what happened in Mr Puzzles’ childhood to make him flinch like that“

CHILD PUZZLES DOES THE SAME THING

EVERY TIME MEGGY/LEGGY APPROACHES HIM HE FLINCHES. HE COWERS. EVEN OUTSIDE OF THE POTENTIAL CONCLUSION HE WAS BEATEN, SOMEONE GENUINELY CARING ABOUT HIM IS SUCH A FOREIGN CONCEPT THAT HE ASSUMES THE ONLY REASON ANYONE WOULD GET CLOSE IS TO HARM HIM.

AND HE’S NOT EVEN WRONG?! THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENS?

THEY INSTITUTIONALIZED HIM HE IS TIED TO A TABLE IN A PADDED ROOM. THEY APPEALED TO HIS HUMANITY AND FOUND THE GOOD IN HIM AND THEY USED IT AGAINST HIM.

YOU THINK THATLL HELP HIM? TARGETING THE MOST VULNERABLE PART OF HIMSELF AND GETTING HIM SENT TO AN ASYLUM?

AND IT SUCKS BECAUSE I WAS LEGITIMATELY ENJOYING THE EPISODE BEFORE THAT! I was having fun until that ending. That’s literally the one thing I didn’t like. The scene with Kid Puzzles was really well done. Everybody’s outfits were so cool. IGBP flesh blobs were there that was really cool

but then

I hate this. Genuinely worse than killing him off to me. It just feels wrong

[prof-peach]

Bit ooc but I have a question. How you do go about planing out your PLA comic? Like how do you actually turn your ideas/ storyline into comic form? Is it chapter to chapter or do you have the whole idea already planned out? Trying to find my own way in comic making so I’m just wondering if you could give any advice. Feel free to ignore if you don’t feel comfortable answering

So, at first this was al i could think to send.

because its incredibly accurate to my process.

Jokes aside, a lot of how i work is back and forth chaos, fighting with ideas until im happy with them. I will start with a list (usually not written down because im unhinged and keep a ot of it in my brain) and organise it in a way that makes sense to the situation, in this case workign with a game with an established plot...not that its a very strong one.

with a set of ideas, and a game to work around i will ramble and rant to a few choice people who i bounce well off, and also stare into space for hours on end building the ideas. This process can be days, it can be years. For context, i have some notes from 2019 about things i wanted to include that are still relevant. I have been scheming how to break and rebuild this OC for ages. Theres no correct time frame, so long as you simply do the work.

Once i have a fairly loose plan, i start to solidify the benning and the end. What is required to make a character compelling, what makes them believable, what makes them human in a way that we recognise. this isnt always a positive thing, people like to call characters who do bad things problematic, but its human nature to make mistakes and be damaged or difficult, the process of the story is not always rainbows and sunshine. For me, this hits even harder, as im trying to tell a story from the perspective of someone fundamentally broken, so showing those breaks and cracks has to be done wisely.

This is the point where i make notes about things that need to change from the start to the end. And ill say one thing, this story in particular, I have not solidly planned the middle. I am allowing space for me to come up with new ideas at points. Being locked into a dead set of ideas can be quite limiting, and as creators we consume and process things constantly to generate new stories. Id be a fool to make a plan and stick to it. everything i do is vague guidelines.

However, I know exactly how the story ends in Hisui, and where it goes to from there. And i think me personally knowing the end goal makes it easier to plot steps towards that, and some of those steps are anything but progressive.

If nothing else, the end was the only thing i saw clearly, and it has only become more complex and loaded and emotional as the rest of this has fallen into place. If you can see the goal, you can work out how to get there with time.

Regarding the chapters, i tend to draft plan up like 3-4 of them at a time, and then go in order to sketch out one after the other, so i have plenty of time to change things while i adjust. its constantly a process of seeing what you make, seeing issues, and scrapping whole parts just to redraw something better or new, unique even. I dont think a single page ive posted has resembled the very VERY first draft thumbnail ive made, and thats just how i do. Every panel, how big they are, the angle you hand the viewer, the way you light things, the expressions, this all dictates SO SO much.

Taking time over it is kind of the job, and let me stress, this is normally a job done by a team, especially the highly popular comics. one inks, one colours, one shades, one handles text, one edits, theres so many people behind it, so dont be bothered by the pace at which things are made if youre working alone like i am. One person means longer production times, if you can, spread the workload out, but its not required. Its why i always say it doesnt matter how long it takes to make, so long as youre still making.

I think its also worth noting, comics are consumed quickly, the bakcgournds and small details can be lost in the ace of the storytelling, pick and choosing your battles is wise, save your time on panels where you want the reader to shift along quicker, keep that pace high, and add in more detail and depth to panels you want to champion or get the viewers to hang around on more. its ok to let go of a "perfect" image in favour of getting content out, if youre being driven nuts by it. Again, time be damned, be happy with it. And if you can let go of petty details, id suggest doing it when possible, so long as it doesnt effect the storytelling.

I mean what else can i even say. This work is a passion project, I love it, more than i can even put into words, and i think you kind of have to, to make comics without monetary motivation. sure you can get lucky and find ways to make it big, but for most of us, its the love of the story. So maybe try not to be your biggest hater, its easy to slip into the behaviour, so try be gentle on yourself and the process. I should take that advice myself haha! but i really do mean it. This is HARD work, so be kind to yourself over it.

anyway, with a rough idea, a bunch of sketches, and time, they get inked and fussed over, i make a billion changes to layout and story, and eventually posting can happen but not after fighting with the monster that is creating. Idk what else i can say. This is not work for the feint of heart, but anyone can learn to do it.

Good luck, comic artists can always use it!

[legendary-69420]

Chapter 19: Déjà Vu

(Racing Hearts : VOLUME 2)

The final race of the season was fast approaching, but Charles couldn’t shake the growing pit of anxiety gnawing at him. Everywhere he looked, there were rumors—whispers that Mark wouldn’t be returning next year. He hadn't dared to ask Mark directly, and it was driving him to the edge. Carlos was already leaving to join Williams, and now it felt like he was about to lose Mark too. His friend, his closest ally, and… maybe something more.

Arthur and Lorenzo sat with him, trying to calm him down, but it wasn’t working. The room was filled with tension as Charles’ thoughts spiraled.

“You don’t get it!” Charles snapped, pacing in frustration. “You don’t know how much he means to me! This is all happening again, like last year… but this time it’s real! He might actually leave!”

Arthur looked up, confused. “What do you mean, ‘like last year’? Mark’s not confirmed to leave yet, right?”

Lorenzo nodded in agreement. “It’s all just rumors, Charles. Red bull hasn’t made an official announcement.”

But Charles shook his head, his voice filled with frustration. “That’s what you said last year when I thought I was losing him too, and look how that turned out! Last year, I wanted to tell him… I needed to, but I couldn’t, and I thought I’d never see him again.”

Arthur blinked, surprised by Charles’ sudden outburst. “Wait… you really care about him that much? Like—”

Before Arthur could finish, Charles cut him off. “You don’t get it! I LOVE HIM, OKAY?! I CAN’T LOSE HIM, NOT AGAIN!” His voice broke as the words slipped out, louder than he had ever intended.

A stunned silence filled the room. Charles stared ahead, his heart racing. He hadn’t even realized the weight of those words until now. Arthur and Lorenzo exchanged shocked glances.

“Wait… you love him?” Arthur asked, his voice quiet but filled with disbelief. “Charles, are you serious?”

Lorenzo’s eyes widened. “We’re talking about Mark here, right?”

Charles slumped back onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. “I… I don’t know, okay? I didn’t even mean to say that. I’m just… I’m scared of losing him.”

Later that evening, Charles found himself absentmindedly scrolling through Instagram, trying to take his mind off things. But then something stopped him cold. A post from F1’s official account caught his eye. His heart raced as he opened it:

Charles blinked in disbelief, his heart skipping a beat. Mark was staying?! He stared at his phone, trying to process the information. Was this real? Could it actually be happening?

Before he could think any further, his phone buzzed. It was Mark.

Charles hesitated for a moment before answering. “Mark?” His voice trembled, unsure of what to say.

“Hey, bunny boy,” Mark’s teasing voice came through the line. “Miss me?”

Charles blinked, still in shock. “I… are you really staying with Ferrari next season? I just saw the post, and I thought—”

Mark laughed, the sound light and playful. “Yep! Just signed the contract. Looks like you’re stuck with me for another season, mate.”

Relief flooded through Charles, a weight lifting off his chest. “Wait… seriously? You’re not leaving?”

“Nope,” Mark teased again. “Red Bull’s in my rearview now. It’s just you and me at Ferrari.”

Charles laughed, a wave of happiness washing over him. “I thought you were leaving. I was… I was losing my mind thinking about it.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” Mark reassured him. “We’re teammates again. Get ready for another season together.”

Charles smiled, relief and excitement mixing inside him. But as much as he was thrilled that Mark was staying, a part of him couldn’t shake the deeper feelings he’d just confessed. He wasn’t ready to confront them yet, but knowing Mark wasn’t leaving gave him some time to figure it all out.

For now, all that mattered was that Mark was staying. That was enough.

---

[gumnut-logic]

Lego Volcano (Part 5)

Alexander Sweetapple series | Lego Volcano - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

It has been some time, and some of this fic has been sitting on my hard drive waiting for attention since May (wow) but tonight I finally started writing more of this. Writing muscles are still a bit rusty, but fortunately I know mostly where this is going. There is more written so hopefully I can post that soon, too.

I also feel that some fo this might be a bit familiar as there have been a lot of WIP Wednesdays since May and I have the vague feeling I posted some of this already, but there is new stuff here as well.

This one continues to be @idontknowreallywhy, @sofasurf, @womble1 and @sailing-on-a-puddle and other wonderful Thunderfam peeps' fault :D

@onereyofstarlight has been her usual amazing self, even rereading this whole thing from the beginning and helping me out with some of her specialities as well :D Thank you so much for your wonderfulness :D

This is Alexander Sweetapple so the fic is m/m. If that isn't your jam, this isn't your bread. Though I will admit, there is very little of that in this bit as Scotty is the one who is having a hard time this time :D

As always, so many thanks to Thunderfam for being the amazing kind fandom it is ::hugs the lot of you::

I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

Being ever so competitive, all the Tracy brothers knew how to get to any part of the villa in the shortest possible time.

Gordon availed himself of that fact the moment John called him.

He had been putting on his swim trunks ready for his morning foray in the pool. Moments later saw him leaping a Lego volcanic island and landing smoothly enough amongst the bricks to slide to Alex’s side.

“What happened?”

Alex had laid Scott in the recovery position. “He has a fever.”

Gordon ran through vitals without thought.

Scott groaned and attempted to shove him away.

“Yo, Scooter, you’re on the floor clocking a temperature somewhere in the hundreds. Give yourself a break.”

His brother mumbled something and tried to roll over and get up.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Gordon grabbed him as Alex scuttled out of the way. “You are staying put until Grandma gets here.”

As if summoned by her callsign, their grandmother hurried into the room. “Scott, honey, what happened?” She stepped lightly over the Lego scattered across the floor and knelt down beside her grandson.

“I’m’kay, Granma.” Scott pushed himself into a sitting position.

Gordon growled at him, but placed a hand on his back, not convinced he wouldn’t fall over again.

“Looks like you’ve picked up Virgil’s flu, honey.”

Scott swore.

“Gordon, please find us a hoverstretcher.”

And that was how Gordon found himself dragging an obstinate and complaining, cranky big brother up to the infirmary and tucking him into a bed. The protests were of legendary proportions until Grandma brought them to a firm halt.

“I’m fine, Grandma.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I’ve got work to do.”

“You’ve got resting to do.” She switched off the scanner and turned to put it away.

“Gordon, stop fussing!” And yes, his hands were swiped at.

He took a step back. “Fine, oh great Commander, tuck yourself in.”

And there it was, his feverish and ill brother trying to be big brother but running out of resources and struggling to hold himself up. Wet, blue eyes attempting stoicism and failing. Damnit, Scott, why do you do this?!

“International Rescue, we have a situation.” John popped up by the bed.

Oh, for the love of-!

Scott sat up, ramrod straight in the bed. “Go ahead, John.”

“We’ve got a cargo freighter foundering off the Great Barrier Reef.”

Gordon exploded. “What?! How the hell did they even get near it? Those are sanctuary waters!” Goddamnit! The remains of the Great Barrier Reef were a World Heritage Treasure. The Supreme Barrier Reef was an attempt to save the ecological system. What little was left of the actual reef off the coast of Australia was ever so precious. How the hell had they ended up in those waters at all?

John, as usual, was calm, but his expression said everything. “Investigating as we speak.” In other words, both he and Eos were out for blood.

Gordon let out a breath. Damn it was good to have a family to depend on.

“Thunderbird Two and Four responding. Get Alan down here. I need transport.”

“Gordon!”

He turned to his beloved eldest brother who was radiating heat like a blast furnace. “Alan and I have this, Commander. You’re staying in bed.” Moving towards the door, he almost collided with Alex. Stumbling, he gestured with a firm finger at Scott. “Make sure he stays put.”

Gordon tore out of the room at a run.

He had a reef, and possibly a few people, to save.

-o-o-o-

It had all happened so fast.

And Alex had no idea what he should be doing right now. He stood beside the door, not sure what to do with his hands, feet, or any body part really.

From the moment he caught Scott, events had just happened around him. The Tracy family responded smoothly and well-practised and before he knew it, Gordon was out the door, and Alex was left in the infirmary with a weak but literally vibrating Mr Tracy.

Mrs Tracy had looked at her watch and cursed. A firm finger and quiet word with the bed ridden man and she was hurrying out the door as fast as her grandchildren had moments before.

But she did brush her fingertips across Alex’s shoulder as she passed, catching his eyes enough to reinforce Gordon’s wish to keep Mr Tracy where he was.

How the hell was he going to do that?

In the distance, Alex heard the roar of Thunderbird Two as she launched from the Island.

Virgil was not going to be happy.

He let out a breath. That’s where he should be now. Virgil would be clambering out of bed. There was no way he would not respond to that sound.

A rustle of sheets and Mr Tracy was sitting upright again. “Thunderbird Five, give me comms.”

“Negative, Thunderbird One.”

“John-“

“Thunderbird Prime’s orders. You’re on sick leave, One.”

Mr Tracy swore dirty, very much not the calm, cool professional Alex was used to.

“Rest, Scooter. We’ve got this.” And the line cut out.

The man on the bed deflated like a balloon, falling back onto the mattress almost as limp as when Alex had first caught him.

An arm came up over his eyes and a barely discernible whisper crossed his lips. “Goddamnit.”

-o-o-o-

Mr Tracy lay there like that for enough time for Alex to think he had fallen asleep.

Should he leave or go? Both Gordon and Mrs Tracy had asked him to stay…really ‘ordered’ him to stay. But Virgil…

Virgil needed Alex to give him permission to relax. Virgil needed Alex to drag him back to bed to stop his headlong run into work and exhaustion.

Yet Virgil was reportedly the level-headed brother.

Virgil had often described Mr Tracy as the embodiment of his Thunderbird - fast, impatient, determined, and consequently ridiculously prone to working himself into collapse.

In Virgil’s case, it was a pot and kettle situation, but after tonight’s demonstration, Alex had first-hand experience and there was the distinct possibility that Mr Tracy would do exactly what Virgil predicted.

As if the thought was permission, Mr Tracy rolled over in the bed and pushed himself into a sitting position.

Alex blinked. “Do you really want to do that?”

The man jumped, tired eyes latching onto him and widening. “Alex?”

Stepping forward, Alex held up a hand. “I’m sorry, Mr Tracy, Mrs Tracy said you need to stay in bed.”

Those blue eyes blinked once sharply and then again but slower. “There’s a situation.” His words were running into each other.

Alex took another step closer. “Mr Tracy, you need to rest.”

He looked away, mumbling something.

“Mr-“

“Alex, my name is Scott.”

“Sorry, sir.”

That drew those eyes back to him, if only for them to roll as Mr Tracy let himself fall back onto the bed. “Augh, Alex.”

“Sorry, s-“

The man grunted.

“-cott.”

A more positive grunt and he shifted on the bed, pulling the covers over himself before fixing his eyes once again on Alex.

Those eyes had so much power.

“So, Grandma has you sitting guard.” It wasn’t a question, more of a challenge.

Alex straightened his spine. “I guess so.”

There was steel in that tired blue, but Alex held on.

Just long enough for Mr Tracy to sigh and relax back into the bed and close his eyes. “Fine.”

There was silence after that. If Alex was working for any other employer than the Tracys, he might have been afraid that he was throwing away his career future.

He wasn’t.

The silence stretched on and Alex resisted the urge to fidget. But then a soft snore wafted up from the bed.

It was followed by another.

Oh, thank god.

Alex wilted where he stood, suddenly aware of exactly how early in the morning it was. A chair beside the bed beckoned, so Alex edged over as silently as possible and curled up.

He watched the bed covers move evenly up and down as Scott slept.

Up and down.

In and out.

Up and…down.

His eyes dropped closed.

-o-o-o-

Next

[thecircularsystem]

Okay, English teacher to the rescue, hopefully. Let’s try to simplify this.

OP: System posting is allowed to be silly.

Random Person: Yeah I hate the focus on trauma.

Korya: Hey, while I agree people are allowed to be silly, talking about the trauma part is still important, and too much focus on the sillies can be harmful.

OP: Actually systems owe you nothing. We don’t need to post about our trauma, I want to be silly.

Korya: Nowhere did I say you had to post about trauma. All I was saying is that everyone only focusing on the more fun aspects, like alters, and never discussing the traumatic aspects, like what CDD systems experience, can lead to misinformation.

OP: Sorry if I’m misunderstanding, but what you’re saying feels like you’re saying I can’t post about alters. It isn’t misinformation to share silly things. You can post about trauma, but you should be allowed to be silly.

(AUTHOR’S NOTE: The above statement is part of what Korya said originally! You are in agreement!)

Korya: Yes, you are misunderstanding me. To clarify, I wasn’t doubling down, and I was just trying to add to the conversation.

OP: You are not clarifying. I’m sorry I misunderstood. I said people can be silly, and you said they have to share their trauma or else it’s misinformation. All I said is we don’t have to focus on trauma. What do you think is misinformation about that?

(AUTHOR’S NOTE: Korya never claimed you can’t silly. They just said that always and forever only being silly is kind of erasing the trauma part of a trauma disorder pretty frequently, and EVERYONE ONLY EVER being silly can lead to aspects of CDDs and disordered plurality being erased. They never disagreed with your premise and said directly in their first response that they agreed with it.)

Korya: I have clarified and I don’t know how to clarify more. You started a conversation and I added to it with more insight. I didn’t respond to just what you said, but to what everyone has said on this topic in the past. Like I’ve said a few times now, I wasn’t calling you out (or disagreeing with you). You keep asking me for clarification, which I have tried to give. I explained that you misunderstood and you continued to say the same misunderstanding. I will stop the conversation here because the communication barrier is getting frustrating.

OP: You haven’t clarified shit and now I’m mad. I tried to be nice and polite but you rejected clarifying and rejected a conversation. You disagree with me and you said it’s misinformation to be silly online. You talk weird and I am now going to make fun of you for it, because I feel like you made fun of me for my lack of English skills, despite the fact that I brought it up. Fuck off and I’m now calling this post harassment of a teenager.

Korya: Well now I’m going to point out you’re legally an adult, and you’re arguing in an adult space about adult topics. Also your language barrier is the issue here.

……..

Does that clarify? =_=

TL;DR: OP, Korya literally said “I agree with you” and then added more thoughts. You read that and immediately went “that is a disagreement.” The word agree means the opposite of disagreement.

To further the actual convo Korya was trying to have (and Korya, I’d love to take this to discord or a different post!), people are absolutely allowed to post about the fun aspects of their disorder, but I do wish the trauma aspects were also celebrated. Or at least fucking welcomed.

Seeing constant posts of “I can’t believe people focus on their suffering, stupid fucking miserable people” really hurts as someone who tries to hold their trauma close for understanding and healing. I can’t grow past it unless I embrace it, and being told that it is bad to do so sucks — and many individuals (not OP, but many) in this topic of conversation treat my trauma as if it’s bad to even mention.

“DID/disordered plurality isn’t just about having silly guys in your brain, it’s about TRAUMA AND SUFFERING”

yeah ok sure. but it can also be about the silly guys. that’s okay too

[fumifooms]

That. That screentone on Chilchuck’s chest in the low open collar. Is Chilchuck having chest hair canon Kui. Kui? Gripping my knee

[girlgerard]

mommm white people on tumblr are misconstruing my posts again despite the post being entirely about how important wording is + how i don’t feel comfortable posting large statements when i haven’t fully processed them yet.

[cartoonartistpng]

So is the general consensus that Eggman’s a certified dilf now?