#i wish i had saved it that tiktok lives in my head at all times

[kuroppiii]

  soft launch ᵕ̈        timeskip! sakusa kiyoomi x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : it's just a silly   ⋮⋮  little tiktok, nothing major ... ⋮⋮  right ?

📋 content     ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮     ♡ # 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵 🥛     ♡ # 2.6k 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴

🎶 on shuffle “ never lose me ” - flo milli ( specifically the trending clip of " yeah he my man , he was never your type . if you try me , ho it ' s on sight " , but whatever tiktok audio you ended up using is up to you lol <3 )

🧸 directory ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii ─ “ first time i ' ve pulled myself together to write about sakusa bc when i think about him , i simply can ' t think straight . an exaggeration ? man i wish !! ”

you weren’t anyone special, really. you lived your life, pursuing your goals and hobbies, spending time with those you love. there were things you were good at, sure, but any sort of recognition or praise for those things only ever came from those closest to you. if you walked down the street, no one would bat an eye. "ordinary" couldn't have described you any better.

your boyfriend on the other hand, star wing spiker and outside hitter of the msby jackals, jersey number 15, sakusa kiyoomi certainly was a bit extra-ordinary in the public's eye.

if you took any of his official social media accounts, they easily skyrocketed ahead of any of your accounts in the sheer numbers of following or likes or views. but that's only natural, as the reasons you love your boyfriend–talented, cool, handsome–surely would be shared by the thousands he's subjected to by being in the limelight of the popular and successful pro-volleyball team.

but what else is natural, is that you've always wanted to be able to "soft launch" him, your boyfriend. you've scrolled through your tiktok "for you" page and your pinterest feeds and have undoubtedly saved every "soft launch inspo <3" post you've seen.

the idea was just perfect, you thought–sakusa often prefers not having his face in photos or videos anyway.

to sakusa, however, well... he didn’t really get it until you sat down and had to explain it. you always found it ironic he was never the most active online despite having the bigger following count between the two of you, after all.

“so you want to go public?” he asked, a bit of surprise in his voice.

"well, yes. but also no," you tried to clarify, leaving him with an even more perplexed face that tugged at your lips as you smiled and calmly continued with your elaboration.

you and him have discussed how to navigate your relationship with his volleyball stardom in the past before. it's not like your closest friends and family didn't know about your relationship, but granted, some of your more casual friends and acquaintances who followed your socials probably didn't entirely know either.

the general public definitely did not know, though, of course. but that's why you'd just post something on your accounts, significantly smaller than his.

“are you okay with that?" you made sure to confirm with him, after explaining your thought process on the whole idea.

he came over to you and placed his hands on your hips gently, a concentrated look in attempts to understand your idea adorning his features as he spoke, “i mean, i'd love to be able to finally let everyone know about us–but really it's up to you if you're okay with it. when it comes to things like this—always has, love.”

and what he said was true, from the moment you started dating he was always trying to protect your peace from the media and reporters and cameras. to him, you were like his private repose from all that. but admittedly, as time went on, you both came to realize keeping your relationship under wraps could get pretty hard at times, especially when you wished to go on normal dates out and about instead of resorting to small secluded get-togethers with the handful of people you who knew or nights spent inside your home.

you shook your head as you reached up to brush some of his curls out of his face, revealing his beauty marks above his eye—brows subtly knit together as he considered how your idea might play out in the longrun.

his arms lovingly pull you even closer as you reassure him, "it's just my friends and family who might see it, anyway. it's just a fun little thing to do, omi, that's all!"

،   そ   ✧   の後    🌱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 ...

a few days later, you and sakusa had an event to attend with the rest of his team. it was a nice dinner so you were all dressed up–the perfect get-up to record a small tiktok or two to satisfy your boredom as you waited for your boyfriend to finish getting ready himself.

as you scrolled through your saved audios, you stood by the humble expanse of wall where sakusa had some of his volleyball medals and trinkets displayed in your shared apartment. then it hit you: this would be the perfect opportunity for that soft launch you were thinking about.

he didn't even have to be there, you could just have his framed "sakusa 15" jersey and recognitions with his name on it in the background as you sang along to a song. it was simple. a little ostentatious? maybe. but you thought it was subtle and fun enough to entertain the people who followed you and were going to see it.

so you picked an audio and started recording. your accessories for going out that night glimmered with the gold medals on the wall in the dim lights of the apartment as you lip-synced to the lyrics, showing off your outfit with a slightly sly attitude of making claim to your relationship with sakusa–claim to what rightfully was yours.

but just as the timer on your video was up, you hear sakusa’s voice approaching from down the hallway, his watch clattering as he's trying to put it on, "what are you doing?"

you break out into a sheepish smile as you rush over to end the video timer manually, "nothing! let's head out!"

in the car on the way to the event, you posted the video and thought nothing about it. no tags, no caption, no nothing–just something cheeky for your friends and family to see and hopefully get a small kick out of.

،   そ   ✧   の後    🌱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 ...

late the next morning after you wake up, you stretch over to your bedside table to grab your phone to do a first-thing-in-the-morning doom scroll. sakusa's still peacefully snoozing away–head tucked under your jaw, soft breaths fanning your neck, arm secured around your waist, and legs tangled with yours under the sheets–when you open up one of your socials and realize you've gained thousands of followers overnight... literally.

you swipe past notifications of your friends texting you dozens of messages to see that hundreds of comments have flooded the most recent post you made–pictures of you and those same friends on a day out in the city–no sakusa in sight yet a lot of the new comments gave mention to him.

almost thinking you're still asleep and dreaming, you scroll through the words total strangers have left for you. it was such a mixed bag: some were mean, some were just confused, and some were even very nice, complementing you on your appearance.

there were a few, however, that mentioned a certain "repost".

"here from the repost"

"RAN to see this after seeing the repost"

"it's been less than a day and there's already so many comments about the repost lol"

and so you go to look up your name with the word "repost" attached to it, and are met with dozens of articles about your "viral tiktok reposted by msby's sakusa kiyoomi seemingly hints at volleyball star's secret relationship".

shocked, but still trying not wake up said volleyball star with your reaction as he clung to you on your shared bed, you quickly switch over to your tiktok to look back at the video you had posted just the night before.

surely enough as you let the video play out, the buttons on the right-hand side of your phone screen displayed astronomically larger numbers than that you've ever seen something you've posted in your life track before.

as the video plays the moment sakusa had called out to you–with you smiling to somewhere off camera before getting up close to the camera and cutting off the recording–you look down lower on the screen and see “msby sakusa reposted”. his official account. (you knew this bc he had you help him set up his personal one, the name of which you set up to come up as simply his nickname amongst friends "omi" with the cleaning sponge and bubbles emoji.)

hearing the audio of the video, you can feel sakusa stir at your side, his brows furrow against your skin as he peeks out from under his messy bedhead of curls to look at what you could be watching so soon after waking up.

after processing it was a video of you, one of his hands wordlessly part from where it was snaked around your waist and reaches up to tap on the little heart icon on the side of your screen.

then his hand returns to where it was, and he retreats back to the space between your collarbone and your jaw, hoping to quickly be lulled back to sleep just for a bit more before you two would have to get up and get on with your day.

but after a brief moment, you can suddenly feel the vibration of his voice against your skin, groggy and sloughed down by drowsiness to a deep treble as he lazily mumbled, “oh... that was your phone. was wondering why it wasn’t liked yet. i could've sworn i did already...”

his words set loose butterflies in your stomach, knowing despite his limited time spent online, he still does everything to let you know he loves you, even if it takes making a small heart icon light up on a video you post. but soon that warm feeling goes away, as your concern quickly overcomes it given the current situation at hand.

“omi," you coo, an attempt to not let on in your voice how you were slightly freaking out as to not disturb his peaceful state, "did you repost it? my video?”

“of course i did,” he replied in a heartbeat. you could feel his breathing start to slow down, him on the brink of slipping back into continuing his slumber.

you also felt he didn't quite realize the implications of what he did.

“you looked nice in it,” you hear him drawl out, after being met with your contemplative silence.

you hummed as you asked a follow up question, “did you do it with your personal account?”

“mhmm,” he sounds so content when he hums back in reply, bliss apparent as he spoke being tangled up with you as sunlight peeked in through the bedroom windows.

one of your hands paused the tiktok from playing and departed from where it clutched your phone to comb through sakusa's hair–partly to calm your nerves and partly in adoration at the realization he was so eager to show you his affection, that he didn’t check which account he was on before he reposted your video.

you tried your best to say your next words carefully and gently, “well i don’t think you did, babe."

"hm?"

trying to act nonchalant about it, you continue, "i gained, like, a thousand followers while we were sleeping.”

"hm?!!"

you no longer feel his curls under your fingertips as he retreats from his little hiding spot, now confronting your phone screen where surely enough, he caught a glimpse of the numbers your video was doing, as well as the little tag that, yes, it does look like he reposted your video using his official msby account.

he was wide awake now as one of his hands go to rake through his locks, and he starts rambling despite how his voice definitely wasn't caught up from his sleep yet, “y/n, angel, i'm so sorry. i didn't even check, i should've. i should've been more careful. now everyone know's about it, and it's all my fault. is anyone being mean to you about it? i can say something, or post something, right now, or—“

you cut his running mouth off with a kiss, dropping your phone in your lap to cup the sides of his face before you pull away.

"you're not... you're not mad at me?" he asks softly, eyes searching yours nervously.

a moment ago you were feeling a little more than uneasy at the thought that you weren't going to be just an ordinary person anymore. but now, seeing how much sakusa cared and doted over you, you realize you'll be fine. because you won't be dealing with it alone. you had someone extraordinary to be by your side each step of the way.

“no, omi. i'm not mad," you tell him through a warm smile, "at least we don't have to hide it anymore."

you feel him slightly nod in your hands, still on edge as he intently listens and hangs onto your every word. you could never get mad at that face. you can't resist the urge to brush your nose against his because of how cute you thought your boyfriend was.

"and besides, it still wasn’t a hard launch. we don't have to confirm anything just yet. so by social media rules... i can still post some more soft launches before we do that, no?" you say with a hint of mischief in your tone, making sakusa break out into a smile as he chuckles and places his hands over yours at the sides of his face.

"y'know what we always say," you continue with a more genuine voice, barely above a whisper, "we won’t let them get to us. we don't owe them anything–let them figure it out. what’s done is done, so let’s just have fun with it, okay?”

you're blessed with the sight of sakusa's dimpled smile growing even wider and before you know it he's all over you, on top of you smothering you with kisses, making you laugh as you try to pry him off of you.

he finally pauses to hover over you, his eyes with the slightest creases at their corners because of how he was smiling down at you, “thanks for bearing with me. not just my social media incompetence, but–for dealing with my… everything, i guess. i love you.”

the sheets ruffle around you as you gingergly wrap your arms up and around his neck, “i love you too omi. always will.”

you reach to grab your phone, buried somewhere in the blanket draped over the two of you, and sakusa rolls off of you as he finds it first and hands it to you. now it was your turn to ramble on, “how about we do the one where you stand behind me and hold the phone really high? or the one where you pick me up and spin me around in a random parking lot? or maybe i should make a video wearing your jersey–? oh my god that'd be diabolical, don't you think omi?"

he laughs into your shoulder at your eagerness as you spend the rest of the morning scrolling through soft launch videos online that you can save to copy later.

“i’ll do anything," he tells you, "i want to show you off–because now i can properly do it the way you've always deserved, love.”

       ⇩  ⇩  ⇩ 𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙐𝙎 ::

a few weeks (and a few more soft-launch tiktoks you both had fun with) later, although you and sakusa never publicly confirmed anything yet, his fans practically accepted that you and him were an item.

you even had the pleasure of seeing some fan-made edits of you come across your feed and appreciatively dropping a few likes on them yourself. but there was one in particular when you peeked into the comments of the video.

the original poster had commented on their own edit: "GUYS SAKUSA GAVE MY EDIT A LIKE WTF???"

you laughed out loud at the comment, considering as how your dear and darling boyfriend had never mentioned his apparent viewing and liking of these edits of you online as of late.

your boyfriend may have learned his lesson about public reposts, but it looks like his attempts at covering up what he hits "like" on needed a bit of work, too.

[azzifudd]

we just sort of get each other

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: insp by an article an anon sent me that said paige was with azzi the whole day before her senior prom

rated: teen

1.3k words

disclaimer: many made up events obviously

Paige sits on the couch, leg propped up on a pillow, hands fidgeting with her phone. She opens Tiktok for a moment, but closes it after a few quick swipes, jiggling her healthy leg as she waits for Azzi to emerge from her bedroom.

She had been in there about an hour earlier, watching as the makeup artist worked on Azzi’s face. In her opinion, Azzi didn’t even need all that, but she had been clearly enjoying the full day of pampering. 

But when the makeup artist had complained for the third time that Azzi would not stop laughing at Paige’s antics, Katie had sent Paige out and shut the door behind her. 

Jose and Jon are playing Mario Kart, pushing at each other as their characters race around the track. 

“You wanna play, Paige?” Jose holds out one of the spare controllers to her.

“Nah, man, I’m good.” She stands up, grabbing her crutches and limping into the kitchen to grab a drink. She’s walking back into the living room when Azzi’s door finally opens. 

Paige turns eagerly at the sound of heels on the wooden floor and drops her bottle of Gatorade at the sight that greets her. 

The bottle thunks heavily against the floor. 

Azzi smiles shyly at her, one dimple peeking out. 

“How do I look?” 

Azzi looks…

Paige has no words. Paige has a million words. She can’t seem to pick her jaw up from where it has hit the floor. 

Paige is nearly breathless as she runs her eyes up and down Azzi’s body. 

She’s wearing a floor length dress, a silver shimmery thing with pink and blue tones throughout it that bares the skin of her chest and arms. A slit runs up one leg, exposing what appears to be miles of tan skin and toned muscle. 

Paige clears her throat, hoping she isn’t blushing as hard as it seems as her cheeks heat up. 

“You look..” She hesitates, unsure if anything she says can even measure up to the emotions that swell in her chest as she looks at Azzi. 

She’s saved from speaking as Azzi’s parents round the corner. Tim has his phone in outstretched hand as he approaches.

“Baby, you look amazing!” He snaps a few photos as Azzi poses. 

Paige stands back and watches as Azzi’s parents direct her in an impromptu photoshoot. Soon her little brothers are roped in to take photos with her, and before she knows it, Tim is gesturing for Paige to stand beside Azzi. 

“Aw, no I don’t want my crummy outfit to make her look bad.” She’s in a wrinkled AZ35 t-shirt and a pair of Nike pants, boot heavy around her ankle. At least she brushed her hair earlier instead of just throwing it into a messy ponytail. 

“Paige, please?” Azzi holds out a hand. 

Paige is at her left side before she even realizes it, hand wrapping around her waist as Azzi leans into her. 

Soon, Azzi has to leave to go take photos with her date James at the National Mall. The family all load into the car, but Paige stays behind because it’s a little too much walking for her ankle. 

But before Azzi can head out, Paige grabs her hand, holding her back until they’re alone in the house. Paige leans her crutches against the wall, and grasps Azzi by the hips, pulling her until their foreheads touch. 

“I wish I was the one taking you.” Paige says, her voice a whisper against Azzi’s lips. For a moment, Paige wishes things were different, that she was just a normal girl who got to take the girl she liked to prom. 

But if she was just a normal girl, she never would have met Azzi, and that’s not a world that Paige can bear to imagine.

“You look beautiful.” 

Azzi’s responding kiss feels like a ‘thank you’ and an ‘I’m sorry' all at once. They are interrupted by a loud honk from outside and Jon’s voice yelling for Azzi to hurry up. Paige’s lips are sticky with gloss. 

“Have the best night,” Paige says, and then Azzi’s out the door. 

***

Azzi has a good night. She does. She spends the night dancing and talking with friends and just having a normal high school experience, something that has become more and more rare as her high school career has developed. The pandemic had ruined so much of what she had hoped would be a perfect senior year, so she is grateful that prom at least has gone off without a hitch.

But as the night wears on, she can’t help but think of what was missing. James is handsome and charming; a dream prom date for so many girls. But he isn’t who Azzi wants. She wants the annoying, sweet, beautiful girl who is waiting for her at home. 

Surprisingly, none of her friends question her when she tells them she will be heading straight home after the dance, rather than hitting up the after party that nearly everyone else is going to. 

When she gets home, she finds her family finishing up a movie in the living room. Strangely, Paige is nowhere to be found. 

“Did you have a good night, honey?” 

“Yeah, it was a lot of fun.” She doesn’t elaborate. “Where’s Paige? Did she go back to her dad’s?” 

Her mom looks unsurprised at her question, smiling as she tilts her head toward their basement door. “She’s downstairs, waiting for you. Don’t change out of your dress yet.”

Azzi is a bit confused, but she heads downstairs anyway. She takes her time going down the stairs in her heels, watching her feet, and as she hits the last step, she realizes there is soft music playing. She looks up and finds the room lit only by what seems like dozens of candles interspersed throughout the room.

All the furniture has been pushed to the edges of the room, and standing at the center of the room is Paige. She is wearing a button up that looks just a bit too tight around her shoulders and a pair of black pants. A baby blue tie is loose around her neck, and Azzi knows when she gets close enough that she’ll be able to see how it brings out the color in Paige’s eyes. 

“I know it’s not the same as if we’d gotten to go together, but I got us these. 

When she gets within arms reach, Azzi notices that Paige is holding a plastic box. She pops it open to reveal a beautiful corsage, pink and vibrant with a matching boutonniere. 

Azzi can’t stop herself from reaching out to hold Paige’s face in her hands and kissing her. Paige smiles against her lips.

“You like it?” She asks, laughing when Azzi nods and kisses her again.

With gentle hands, Paige slides the flower onto Azzi’s wrist and she stands still as Azzi returns the favor, pinning hers to her chest with shaky fingers. 

“Can I have this dance?” Paige loops her arms around Azzi’s waist, pulling her even closer.

“Will your ankle be okay?” Azzi asks, bringing her arms up around Paige’s shoulders. 

“Yeah,” Paige shrugs. “I asked during PT this morning, and they said swaying was okay.” 

“Then let’s sway.” Azzi giggles, pressing their foreheads together as they move gently to the music. 

“Did you have fun tonight?” 

“Mmhm.” Azzi nods. “I missed you though. I always miss you.” 

“Just a few more months and we’ll be together all the time.” 

“You won’t get tired of me?” Azzi scratches at the back of Paige’s neck, smiling as Paige’s eyes flutter and she leans into the touch. 

“Never.” Paige makes sure to look Azzi right in the eyes, her own piercing and honest. 

Azzi twists a hand into Paige’s tie, pulls her in, and kisses her and kisses her. 

[xavviquz]

♥︎ he loves you, he loves you not. ♥︎ satoru gojo x gn!reader

warnings // angsty, emotionally unavailable gojo, blood, gojo hcs, probably a lot of hurt, short

notes // i wrote this because of that stupid scene in jjk i keep seeing all over my tiktok fyp.. i also have had this idea at like the back of my head for a while and ive been meaning to post something like this! i hope it reaches everyones expectations, and if you guys want, i could write this out and make it an actual fanfic. just leave a comment or ask! ♡ wc: 317

synopsis: he loves you dearly, but he doesnt have the right words to express it.

em. unavailable!gojo who always puts work before your needs always. even if its something so simple, gojo leaves with a single phone call of them needing him.

em. unavailable!gojo who cant openly speak up about his feelings and whats bothing him because hes afraid he’ll lash out and say things that he doesnt mean.

em. unavailable!gojo that doesnt truly care if you’re dying, aslong as he saves the lives of as many people as he can. gojo vowed to himself to not care for anyone so deeply for again. he learned his lesson one too many times to make that same mistake again.

em. unavailable!gojo who cries in your arms randomly throughout the day but never states his reasons why.

em. unavailable!gojo who hates it when you depend on him. as much as gojo loves you, as much as he loves it when you feel comforted around him, he cant stand the fact that you expect anything of him. for gojo to be loving, sweet, upbeat, always physically and mentally there was all out of the picture.

em. unavailable!gojo who panicks at every decision when it comes to life or death. as selfish as he is, he always choses to save a certain selection of people even if many were dying. even you. who gojo stated he wouldn’t save if it meant the lives of thousands of other people.

em. unavailable!gojo who grips onto your side of the bed when you’re out grocery shopping. he cries at every moment, thinking of all the bad that could happen to you just from being gone.

em. unavailable!gojo who watches you as you crumble to his feet, smiling as tears swell into your eyes. you can barely hear out of your ears, and your intestines are completely seeping out. gojo’s eyes widened as you mouth the words he wishes he would hear from your silky smooth voice. “i love you.”

➡︎ pt.2 //

a/n: please consider reblogging, liking, and commenting recommendations!

ⓒ 2024 xavviquz - dont copy, repost, or modify

[awniie]

BIG BABY W/CHOSO

ʚ content: fem!reader, reader takes care of sick choso, reader wishes boyfriends spends more time with her, fluff ⠂°⠄🕯

ʚ summary: your bf choso loves being your big baby when he’s sick (all the time) ˎˊ˗

ʚ note: i want choso to be my big baby ♡

You were sitting on the couch in the living room of your apartment. You’d been stationed there for hours, mindlessly scrolling on tiktok and instagram. You hadn’t done anything productive all day, not a great way to start off the new year but you’ll save that train of thought for another time. You didn’t want to be lazy alone, in fact you were supposed to spend the day rotting with your boyfriend, Choso Kamo.

Only a couple more minutes you thought, checking your messages app, waiting a text that would said “I’m here!”. You were supposed to be binge-watching the new season you and your boyfriend’s favorite historical drama at 5:30. Season 4 had just released and you were dying to start it now, but choso made you promise that you wouldn’t start it until he got back from visiting his brother Yuji who had just gotten a cold. “Please baby,” he’d beg you, tying the laces of his black prada boots. “I promise I’ll be back soon and we’ll watch it together.” You gave him an overdramatic sigh and pouted, to which he responded with a peck on your temple. You turned your head up go meet his lips to yours, drawing him into a deeper, more desperate kiss.

"Just be patient, okay? T's only for a couple hours." Choso whined as he pulled himself away from your lips. You couldn’t help but smile a little, you loved his whines, but right now what you’d love even more is for him to just postpone his 3rd visit to Yuji’s this week. You understand he was sick, but Choso was always at his brothers place. “I already lost my brothers before, I’m not trying to lose anymore.” He’d tell you matter-of-factly whenever you had something to say about his visits. You’d understand, to a degree, but sometimes he would come back home all sleepy-eyed and exhausted and you knew he probably spent a majority of his time fretting over his more-then-capable younger brother. You’d just wish he’d rely on you more instead of always trying so responsible.

But that was hours ago, and your boyfriend swore he’d been here in only a couple minutes. You stretch and pull up your black spandex shorts you’d been wearing along with a pink cropped hoodie from garage. ‘This boy better hurry up, or else I’m just gonna start it without him.’ You’d thought, fingers reaching towards the remote that had been waiting allllll day to be picked up.

Suddenly, and thank the Lord, you heard keys jingling from the outside door of your apartment, and heard the familiar sounds of the turning knob. You practically leaped out off the chair you’d been lounging on, and ran over to give your boyfriend the biggest, tightest hug. (Mostly for making you wait all day.) But when you wrapped your arms around choso’s muscular frame, You could feel how warm his body was, how shaky he was and the distinct smell of sickness.

“Cho’ are you okay-?” You questioned, slowly peeling your chest away from his so you could get a better look at him. His hair was coming undone, the spiky buns now loosened and practically gone. His eyes were somehow more heavy then usually and you noticed he was shivering a little.

“Mhm, I’m f-fine baby, jus’ a little tired. Can we go lay down on the couch, please?” Choso answered. He tried to keep his voice steady but it was obvious how pitiful he appeared. You led him down unto the couch, sitting him upright and draping him with the blanket. You placed your hand on your forehead, and almost gasped at how hot he was.

“Cho, you’re burning up, did Yuji get you sick?” You asked, while standing up from the couch and going to the kitchen. Ibuprofen wouldn’t heal any sickness, but I’d get rid of his fever at least. Choso started to follow after you, sniffling and breathing heavy. “No no, no. You stay there. You clearly sick, lemme grab you some medicine.” He indignantly continued after you. “‘M not sick. I’m just a little chilly, that’s all.”

“Yeah, okay whatever you said.” You retorted, grabbing the pill bottle from your white cabinet and shaking out two umber colored pills. You moved away from the counter, noticing your boyfriend seemingly disappeared. “Cho’ where’d you go-“ you cut off as you foot hit something large and definitely out of place. Your 5’9 boyfriend was on the floor curled up into a little ball, shivering and sniffling under the blanket. “Oh my goodness Cho- Okay let’s bring you back to the couch.” You instructed, awkwardly lifting him off the hardwood floors and back unto the couch. Now he was back on the upholstery, but he still needed his medicine. “Okay, Choso. I’m gonna need you to open your mouth so you can take this medicine, okay? It’s gonna make you feel a whole lot better.” You coaxed, brushing the escaped tendrils of hair from his heated face.

“Nooo, ‘M good. Don’t worry about me.” he mumbled, still a shaky, pathetic mess. You groaned at his stubbornness. “Cmon Cho. You’re obviously sick so can you please just take it.” In your hand were the pills and a glass of water that he clearly didn’t wanna take. He frowned and closed his eyes, refusing to take the medication. He was acting like a spoiled toddler, expression pouty and fake. “Choso. Stop acting like a baby and just take it, it’s just a pill!” You urged, not noticing the edge in your voice, but he did. He took that medicine so fast, gulping the water to chase it down. You smiled, even though were shocked at his sudden change in disposition. Deciding to give your boyfriend a reward, you gift him a smooch on the nose, brushing more hair out of his face. “Good boy, see that wasn’t so bad. Now you’ll feel so much better.” You promised. You sat yourself right next to him, allowing him to rest his head on your shoulders.

For the rest of the week, you were both surprisingly happy. Your boyfriend was finally getting some well needed rest, and you got to watch the new episodes of your show together (he didn’t have much a choice with you padding after him everywhere). Choso never knew how much he’d enjoy being the not responsible one for a change. You were making sure he ate, checking up on him, kissing and loving on him. He was hungry for the praises that seemed to come out of you with much more proficiently now that he was succumbed to illness. You followed him constantly, and he secretly loved the fussing and attention. He’d definitely had to catch a cold more often. Of course, he was still protective older brother to Yuji, but your boyfriend Choso loved being your big baby. ♡

[arsenal-womens-1]

Chapter 23 page 28

Page 28. I’m stuck on page 28 because I know when I turn to page 29, she won’t be there. We have to pretend we never dated or knew each other. How can I forget our story? It had just started; it wasn’t time for it to end. In the ideal world, it wouldn’t. But here I am, sitting next to her as if we didn’t just spend the last two and a half years loving each other. I still love her with all my heart; I think I will forever.

I met Georgia when we were young; we grew up together. It wasn’t until 2020 that anything happened between us. Through the whole of the lockdown, we were something, and for two years after, we were together. We were the only ones to know. Now she’s leaving to go live in Germany, and I’m going to Spain with one of her best friends, Lucy. I know I should be happy; I mean, I’m going to be playing for Barcelona, the team I’ve always wished to play for. But now I want to go with her, but I can’t.

I understand why she has never told the world about her sexuality, but her teammates, I don’t get. Getting dragged back to the present as one of the girls says something about crashing Serena’s interview. We all form a line and start singing, shouting, "It’s coming home," barging through the doors. We go around the table; Mary and Lucy get up on the table and do some sort of dance. For being the TikTok queen, Mary doesn’t know how to dance the best. I can’t really say anything; I can’t dance to save my life.

Rushing out of the conference room, we go back to the changing room. A few split off to go outside wailing; some of the German girls walk past. I walk into the locker room to see a bunch of girls dancing to "Every Time We Touch." Hanna is sitting in her cubby; I decide to sit next to her. We don’t say anything to each other. After about half an hour and a lot of alcohol later, someone walks in and tells us that the bus is outside.

We all pack up our stuff and make our way onto it, deciding to sit away from the girls. I know I will get questioned about it, but I need to think. My signing for Barcelona isn’t public yet as I’ve not actually signed it yet. I’m flying out after Trafalgar Square; I’ll be stopping there for the day, then going to Ibiza for a day or two, then back to Manchester to pack up the rest of my stuff. I know the fans are going to be devastated as they want me to stay.

Laying my head against the window, the cold cools down my face. I watch silently as the bus pulls away, leaving behind a whirlwind of emotions, knowing that the next chapters of my life were about to unfold in ways I couldn't yet predict.

We pass fans coming out of Wembley Way. I still can’t believe what we have just done; we are on top of Europe; we won. We actually won. This whole last three months have felt like a dream, from getting called up to playing in the first match to winning the whole thing.

Closing my eyes, I just listen to the girls, the staff, and the outside. After a bit, the bus stops; the sound of the doors opening tells me that we are at the hotel. I wait for everyone to get out before getting off. There are people with cameras all over the place. Getting in front of the hotel fast, all our friends and family are waiting for us. A few run to their friends and family, others walk. I just stand there; mum and dad aren’t here as they had work.

I stand, watching everyone reunite with their friends and family. I couldn't shake the bittersweet feeling that this moment marked both an end and a beginning of an era. Jill and Ellen are retiring, but that means there will be new talent going up to the bar they have.

I get six shots of vodka; I take three and walk over to Ella and Alesia and hand them one. I promised them if we won I would buy them a shot; technically, I haven’t bought them one, but it’s the same thing. A bottle of gin is passed to us; I down a bit.

Feeling something cold against my back, I open my eyes; the sun shines straight into them. What? Looking around, by the look of it, I am outside. I can see the hotel. Getting off whatever I’m on, I look back at what I was on. Where did I get a pink flamingo pool float from?

The last thing I remember was at 3 am; one of Ella or Alesia’s friends was on the table. Why was she on the table? Why am I outside walking slowly up to the hotel? My head is banging, and I feel like I’m about to throw my guts up. I’m never drinking again. Finally, I make it back to the hotel to see about sixty people.

Eating, all them very quiet heads turn when they hear the door open. Slapping my hand over my mouth, I run to the nearest bathroom. After a minute or to I stop throwing up, clinging to the wall I push my self up walking back to the room. People turn to see who it was a few look concerned, and others are amused.

I need to find Ella and Alesia. One to see if there OK and two to find out where I got the flamingo from and why I was asleep outside. But first, a glass of water and some paracetamol and ibuprofen seeing a table of bottle water and boxes of paracetamol and ibuprofen I take some. I looked up as someone walked into the room. It was Ella and Alesia—I didn’t need to go looking for them.

“Hey, girls,” I greeted them. They mumbled a quiet “hi” in response. “I need to ask you something.” Ella nodded, prompting me to continue. “One, why was I asleep outside? And two, where did I get a pink flamingo pool float from?” Confusion was evident on both their faces. Alesia spoke up, “What pink flamingo? And what do you mean, you slept outside? You went to bed around 4.” She struggled to hold back laughter as she recounted this. Now, I was even more confused.

“What do you mean you don’t know where I got it from? And how did I end up outside if I went to bed?” They both tried hard not to laugh but looked genuinely perplexed. “Well, when Alesia and I left you in your room, you had just stopped crying about something. You weren’t making much sense by then.”

After hearing their explanation, I rubbed my temples, trying to piece together the fragmented memories of last night, wondering how everything had spiraled into such a blur.

"Okay, thanks for bringing me to my room." Walking to my room to try and piece some of this together and try to find my phone, getting to the hall of my room I see Jess, Carter, and someone else passed out in the hall. Opening my room door, everything looks normal; my phone is on the bed. Going over, I open it; I see a crap ton of Instagram notifications. Opening the app, I go on the notification thing and see I posted a story at 3:56 am, so just before I went to bed. You can’t really see much; all you can see is me, Ella, Alesia, Lotte, Georgia, and Ellie. Maybe one of them knows.

Walking into the bathroom, I look in the mirror. It’s then I realize I’ve got a hickey. I remember someone knocked on the door; I let them in. But who was it?

[not-poignant]

Hi Pia

I'm so sorry you've been experiencing difficulties recently. I'm sending all my love and light your way and hope you start to feel a little less shitty soon.

P.s - Do you mind sharing your tiktok so we can follow you there too? Or is it a private acc?

Lots of love to you <3

It's not private! It's just not updated very often. Overall I'm more active on Instagram. But neither are private. The Tiktok is very art-focused so it might not be what you're looking for. But it's also pretty harmless overall.

And thank you anon <3

The last few days I had to stop writing and like...quickly redo my schedule for December and cut it back a little, which always makes me sad, but I'm trying to conserve my mental health as well as my physical. I realised I met all the criteria for a pretty serious depressive episode late last week (I have, alongside severe PTSD, Major Depressive Disorder, which is the one that will kill me if I don't keep an eye on it -> though I'm happy to report I'm not like in a very like 'I don't want to live' space right now, I can just tell I'm feeling / experiencing a lot of the red flags that go in that direction), and if I don't act now, that tends to lead to pretty bad places.

So I've redone the schedule for December and that will come out likely on Friday or Saturday. And then I'll only be posting during January for half of the month, and not the whole month, and taking off two weeks re: posting. Hopefully these are the sorts of things which will head off me needing to go into hiatus because I desperately don't want to do that <3

I can already tell I'm doing a little better after being a lot firmer with some boundaries, and also just...with myself re: taking more time off. I wish I didn't feel so guilty about it? But that's not anyone's fault here, that's shit to work on with my therapist/s, lol.

Today I spent around 3 hours researching a response to an ask (whoops), and then realised - not through any one person's actions but a bunch at once - that I need to kind of stop engaging with facecast stuff (nothing wrong with facecasting, the problem is wholly on me there and I wish I'd seen that sooner and saved people some pain and saved me from some rudeness).

I put away the shopping (we have a really good grocery delivery system here which is great for my disabilities etc.), and had some raspberries, and put on the Christmas tree lights.

I was so tired at lunch that I could only manage a bowl of cereal (and couldn't eat breakfast. I think my therapist would be like 'why are you putting three hours of research into responding to something instead of focusing on eating food' but well, whoops? Lol. To be fair I thought it would be way easier to answer, but Tumblr's search function is SO broken).

I fed my wonderful cat, Maybe, and got some sleep in the afternoon and then did some writing (1,200 words) on Palmarosa. It's like 7.00pm right now, and I'm going to put up some chapter commentaries on Patreon and Ream.

Tonight I might do some watercolour art, and I'm hoping to finish Palmarosa tomorrow.

December is actually a hard time of year for me anyway. It's the month that has the most chronological / time-based triggers, and my therapists know this and I'm hearing a lot of 'how are you in the lead up to December' which is about to become 'how are you coping with December.'

I'm grateful for small pleasures. Like my dahlias are looking pretty awesome right now. Here's some photos of this week (some art I'm working on, Maybe being cute, or screm, dahlia, Christmas set up, T-Rex ornament, Santa Platypus ornament):

[charlotlie]

i’m procrastinating studying for my finals & ive been on marauders & aftg tiktok for too long so here it is: my take on the aftg characters as taylor swift songs

- neil: you’re on your own kid (the neil josten anthem, especially the bridge), getaway car (I SWEAR IM NOT TRYING TO BE FUNNY), snow on the beach (tbh i always see this as an andreil song, but it’s just like: neil had never expected to fall for andrew or even trust him in the beginning, so the fact that they’re even falling? fucking weird. also, the line, “you wanting me, tonight, feels impossible” like the idea of someone wanting to touch him without wanting to hurt him ahshajsgs)

- andrew: daylight (just listen), anti-hero (this could very well apply to all the foxes, but the line, “i wake up screaming from dreaming // one day i’ll watch as you’re leaving // cause you got tired of my scheming” seems to be his perspective on nearly all of his relationships), evermore (for me, this song is largely about depression and, tbh, i’ve been reading too many andrew character studies lately, and “that this pain would be for evermore” hurts SO bad when you’re thinking about him. then the song develops, and ends with, maybe this pain isn’t forever. im gonna write a fic on this i swear.)

- aaron: delicate (“my reputation’s never been worse so, you must like me for me” him & katelyn after the whole drake incident im crying so hard😭😭)

- nicky: paper rings (him & erik 🤭, like they are the cute love songs in my head)

- dan: the man, gorgeous (so like,,, dan didn’t like matt at first, right? was annoyed at him a lot, didn’t think he was all that — so she was also very annoyed when she started noticing him and liking him and kinda being attracted to him so i just imagine this song as dan’s drunken confession to matt about how frustrated she is with him and matt’s just smiling at her and it makes her even more frustrated bcs how is he so pretty), sweet nothing

- matt: lover (“and at every table.. i’ll save you a seat, loveeeeer” asfgsgsgs), king of my heart (“and we rule the kingdom inside my room” —> i so imagine dan and matt having the stupidest fun with each other and that feels like listening to this song, like you’re not really part of the inside joke. also, dan is definitely the queen of matt’s heart :))

- allison: the last great american dynasty (she had a marvellous time ruining everything), i know places (headcanon: after renee confesses to her, they slip away for a weekend to just be with the two of them to hide themselves away from everyone else for now), i wish you would (about seth, in this case.)

- renee: new romantics (she could build a castle from all the bricks they threw at her), peace (about how the danger lives in her, how she can never truly bring peace because she doesn’t feel like she can, but still “would it be enough, if i could never give you peace?” she hopes to be enough and tries to make up for her past by caring 4 others ajahhshshs i love her sm), dress (“i don’t want you like a best friend” her confession to allison please 😫)

- kevin: right where you left me (kevin day, the epitome of the freeze ptsd response, always stuck where he in where he was), the great war (“there’s no morning glory, it was war, it wasn’t fair” makes me think of him and jean after riko died)

- jean: epiphany (listen to this while thinking of him istg im crying), exile (“you’re not my hometown anymore, so what am i defending?” about kevin😭), gold rush (jerejean conflict so good, i need new fics)

[rennorthernlights]

My Thoughts on Palestine.

I am 22 years old. Born in Texas to a Christian family. I was raised in a church that is a god-fearing, hellfire, and damnation type of church. Growing up I was put in my church’s school and they taught me everything about the Bible. But I didn’t always listen in fact I would question everything since I had a curious mind. Sometimes they answered my questions and sometimes they didn’t. I was active in the church and tried to listen to sermons. I wanted to be a good Christian girl and listen.

There is one sermon that I remember. It was during the 9/11 memorial that my church had and my Pastor was speaking about 9/11 and then it turned to speaking about Muslims. I remember I was drawing, I know “good Christian girl”. I got a lil bored but I remember this. I was 6 years old, my pastor on the pulpit saying “The only way to save a Muslim is to give them a Bible or shoot them in the head.” I remember the other men in the church yelling “Amen! Amen!” I didn’t know what that meant until I got older.

I was raised with a strong hatred for Muslims. All Muslims. Any Muslims. “Remember 9/11, remember what they did.” Is what my father said like as if they personally attacked my family even though we lived in a suburban area in Houston, Texas. I hated anything to do with Muslims and the Muslim religion. When I was old enough to understand what was happening in Afghanistan, I was about 14 years old, I remember a student alongside me said “We should just blow up all the Muslims there.” And I thought “but what about the kids?” I didn’t say anything I just nodded my head and agreed with the student.

I got Instagram against my parents wishes. Scrolling through countless videos and then I saw some Muslims on there. Men, woman, and children. Just like me only different in religion. I still hated them but I wanted to learn about them. I still hated them but I wanted to understand them. I still hated them… I still hated them because I was taught to hate them. That little seed of “Why do I hate them?” Was growing.

Eventually I left that church when I was 16 years old which lead to me no longer be a Christian. Mind you not because I couldn’t stand what they believed about Muslims or because of the hypocrisy of my church. No I was no longer a Christian because I was bitter about my family divorcing.

Being on my own without the church breathing down my neck and telling me what I should or should not believe left me confused. So I started going on Instagram more and more and you know what got me to start thinking without the lenses of the church? Abortion and a woman’s right to choose. Argued a lot with my family until eventually my siblings started siding with me. It took a VERY long time for me to make my own choice, to make my own decisions of what I should believe. And that’s what has lead me to this point about Palestine.

Growing up in that church my Principal/Teacher/Pastor’s wife, yes she was all three, would talk about Israel. Talked about it so much that it came almost synonymous with America. I never once heard her or anyone talk about Palestine. In fact the only memory I have of Palestine is a video I saw on Instagram when I was about 17 years old. That little boy, maybe 13 or 15 years old also looked like his birthday, said on the mic “I give my life to Palestine.” And I thought “Palestine? What’s that?” I didn’t know what or who they were talking about so it went into the back of my mind. Never thought about it again.

Until October 7th, 2023, I was up late watching tiktok and I saw this picture with the Skyfall song by Adele playing. It showed a picture of the Iron Dome intercepting a missile. So immediately I go “Israel is under attack!” And I’ll be honest I didn’t care. Just another thing that didn’t matter in my life because I’m in Texas. A million miles away from the comfort of my home and warm bed, I could easily just swipe away or turn off. Until I saw the videos of Palestinian men, woman, and children.

I watched those videos and in my head I’m going “But they started it?” Because that’s what I was taught. “They’re Muslims trying to exterminate the Jews.” My thoughts echoing the words of my pastor, my teacher, my church, my dad. I’ll admit that a part of me was cheering for the Israel people, that I was condoning what was happening. I thought that Hamas was this powerful group and that Israel was weak because that’s what I was taught. Israel is this little country and defenseless, that’s what I was taught all my life. To pray for Israel’s peace and safety, that’s what I always did. It what I was taught to do.

The videos I saw though proved otherwise. Israel isn’t weak, Israel isn’t defenseless, Israel isn’t poor, Israel is… Israel is bombing civilians. Israel is bombing churches. Israel is bombing places that are supposed to be safe.

It’s like the wool was forcibly taken from my eyes. Like a person gripping my hair and making me look. At first I didn’t want to see. I was content in what I was taught. I was safe with not knowing. But I couldn’t do that anymore. I couldn’t just look and forget. I couldn’t. My turning point was my little brother, 13 years old and mind you hasn’t been raised in the church like I was. His worldview is his own because he was allowed to make his own views without the influence of the church. We were talking about it and this 13 year old kid starts talking about Palestine. And at first I was against it, at first I argued with him but he wasn’t backing down. And I thought “He’s caring about this so much. Why?”

So I read as much as I could on Palestine. I’ve been reading articles and watching videos. I’ve been trying to understand. It was hard, the hatred I had for Muslims and the love I had for Israel made it hard. I second guessed everything and tried to find the moment where I could go “Ah ha! See the Muslims and Palestine is lying!” But I couldn’t. I couldn’t find it.

My tiktok fyp was showing me videos of the men, woman, and children left and right. Again it was like the hand was gripping my hair and making me look. In time I didn’t fight it anymore. I stayed and I looked. Video after video, reel after reel, I watched. A silent witness until I couldn’t be silent anymore. I follow tiktok and Instagram accounts to keep up to date. I’m trying to cram as much knowledge in my head so I can speak out about this to my friends that I was raised with. To argue with my dad about this because he’s only parroting what his pastor is saying.

2 weeks I’ve been learning. 2 weeks I’ve been doing the bare minimum of educating myself on this.

Did you know that I thought Israel’s state was there for at least 200 years? Did you know that I had no idea about the open air prison of Gaza until 2 weeks ago? Did you know that I have been loyal to a state that didn’t even know my name only because I was raised to be loyal to them?

I’m ashamed. I’m ashamed of myself. I’m ashamed that I, who prides herself on learning history and facts did not know about Palestine. I’m ashamed that when I saw that video when I was 17 years old that I did not look into what Palestine is. I’m ashamed of my church. I’m ashamed of the state that I was so loyal to even though they wouldn’t even care about me. I’m ashamed that all I can do is speak and post.

But more than anything, I bare witness. I bare witness to the men, woman, and children that are suffering. I am their witness. I will speak out. I will post. I will comment. I will share. Because that is the very least that I can do.

To the Palestinians, I am so sorry that I hated you without even knowing you. That I saw you as Muslim and hated you because of it. I’m so sorry.

To the Muslims, I am so sorry that I hated you and your religion. I hated you without even thinking why? Without stopping and thinking why do I hate you when you’ve done nothing to me? I’m so sorry. I can never not be sorry.

I can never be sorry enough. I’m no saint. I’m no good person. But I will try to be good. I will try and do better. I will educate myself and help when I am able to. I will speak out. I will be another voice. Another shoulder to lean on. I’m sorry and I will do my part to help.

[bipolylingual]

A little (anti) capitalist dream

My personal thoughts on commitment to oneself, jobs, time blindness, sensory overload and third places.

Because of how I’m naturally inclined, I wish I’d have the following happen to me. I want to be forced to wake up for work, and then, once I’m on the bus to town, be informed that I have the day off. Yes, that is what I would like. At a fresh but not painful hour, like 9 o’clock in the morning, I would get up and spend no more than 35 minutes getting ready. Why is that time, and whatever I accomplish in that time good enough on my work days, but not on my days off? Somehow my hair looks good enough barely styled, the outfit I throw together will do and I don’t procrastinate filling my cats food bowl and scooping her shit. I gotta go, got a bus to catch and a day to live. I do not have (make) time to eat, which sucks and I rely too much on working in a grocery store inside a mall, which could be its own capitalist comment. Plus the food offered there isn’t even that great.

Anyway. That morning routine might not sound nice to everyone, but to me, the other version is much much worse. Or has the potential to be. I’m realising that having that one bus to catch leaves little room to think. In the best way. So then getting ready on my day off, can so fucking easily slip into becoming my own personal hell. 

The languidity of it all. When does luxury become boring? When does eating cake make you feel sick to your stomach? And we all know time is a luxury. So, the fucking sweaty, slow, indecisive, fussy languidity of it all. That is the reason I would love that kind of day, why I need to feel like I’m going to work and am expected at the precise time. And when am I the most interested in the world and looking at what new stores there are in town and looking at other people and writing my ideas and sketching in a coffee shop and buying gifts for an upcoming birthday and reading poetry? 

Standing under the fluorescent lights in my uniform that came with the nearly minimum wage. 

Maybe my personal hell or curse is just wanting to be somewhere other than I am. 

So I wake up, realistically closer to 11 o’clock. I check the weather and try on an outfit. Then a different top. Nope. Where are those pants? Okay, I’m not making the bus I wanted to (not had to). I find an outfit, I’m already a bit sweaty, the hair at the back of my neck irritates me. I sit down to do my makeup. (I want to get out of here. Into the temperature the outfit is meant for, get started.) Yet I find myself going through my saved Instagram posts, my saved Tiktoks for makeup inspiration. (This was supposed to be a functional step to get me out. Of. the. house.) So not the time for inspiration and fucking brainstorming and definitely not trying something new that I will probably hate. After finishing that part, which I either love or can physically feel on my face which makes me want to rub my skin off, I need to pack. Oh, my cats food. I check the time and see I’ve missed the next bus I was going to take. I tend to my cat, rub her small head and finally, the air hits my face. 

It’s almost 1 o’clock. 

I need to keep moving in order to not scream and completely melt down at that realisation or at my still-sweaty back or still- empty stomach, and try to keep it out of my mind how few hours of daylight there are left. 

The library is free and quiet, but I think the air is pretty bad because I feel lethargic so soon, while cafés are nicer but loud with cramped wobbly tables and of course the overpriced drink or snack aka entrance fee. So much for third spaces. 

I am aware that these things wouldn’t change in the case of my dream day, but I know my tolerance of them would. When I have a good day in town, I do not think like that. 

So on my dream-day I embody much more of what I want to be. The kind of woman I want to be. Effortless, yet, with a purpose. Driven by inspiration and a foundational belief that of course it must be pursued. Because I’d only live the first half, the tight scheduled, extremely efficient morning. Not the second half where I’m an adult that has to stand for 8 hours and ask permission to go take a piss. 

I’d leave my house slightly frazzled in a chic way, with a book or two in hopes of reading on the bus. I’m listening to music I like. I have five minutes, so there isn’t room for much else in my head. No room for doubts about my clothes or makeup (or lack thereof) or what I brought or didn’t bring with me. I’ve started my day and it’s only onward from here. 

They say perfectionism and procrastination go hand-in-hand. That’s why I need that cut-off, you know? I must leave at that time, no wiggle room and once I’m out, I’m out. No going back and perfecting. No going back and fussing. 

That’s difficult to feel when I’m not accountable to anyone but myself. And unfortunately, how it feels, rules everything. 

So I sit on the bus, bright and early and watch the beautiful sky. I am free because I’m confined to my schedule. After a while I’m a ways away from home, and I get a phone call. Or a text message. 

And all at once, my day is mine again. 

I get off the bus in town. After all, I’m already here! It’s only mid morning. I’m not ideally prepared, but I’m dressed, I have all my essentials and nothing but time and a bright sky. I do not think about how overpriced the coffee is, or how one table leg is too short. It doesn’t feel like so much of a nauseating indulgence, as much as that I have been granted permission. Again, I'm already here. I marvel at how much (potentially) fruitful time I have ahead of me. The very best hours to get things done, in fact, according to modern society. Because we all know not all hours of the day are created equal. I look out the window and make a plan. And if it turns out I didn’t bring my notebook, it's okay, because my neck isn’t sweaty and I can just use the computer at the library. 

[gnarlymetalghost]

okay so my boyfriend broke up with me (for reasons that feel dumb to me but are very real for someone who has anxiety), i convinced him to just go on a break, blah blah blah we talked again and i think i fucked it up royally because i told him he was being immature about it. i need to apologize to him but i’m worried that the more i talk to him, the less there will be to save. i’m just gonna write it down here instead.

i’m sorry i said that you were being immature. i’m a lot like my dad and i have a lot of tendencies towards black and white thinking. it seems immature to me, but the anxiety about making the right decisions is so real.

for me, i don’t think anyone is the right choice. any number of people can be the right choice. i think that if you find someone who you want to have experiences with, that’s enough. you have to choose that person, with all of their issues and assets. and it’s stupid and terrible because there’s always gonna be a voice in the back of your head that’s saying “did i make the right choice? did sierra make the right choice?” but it doesn’t matter, it’s a good enough choice for right now.

the culture we live in and grew up in is stupid but we can’t escape it and we’re living with the programming, as hard as we’re trying to escape it. i’m not holding you to forever. i’m not holding you for eternity. i think i would if you let me, but i don’t know if i’ve seriously considered marrying you. it could be fun, but i’m not thinking about it because that’s not where we are yet. i’m enjoying life with you right now. that’s enough. if you’re scared about a future, i’m just holding you to tomorrow. and we take it day by day. the pressure you’re putting on yourself is unfair, i wish you could let yourself be casual about it.

there’s a lot of language that’s thrown around about it that weigh really heavy on people in our situation. “when you know you know” is comforting to some people but to me it feels like when someone says “you’ll know when you feel the spirit.” how? is it heightened emotions or is it god? do i love you or am i horny? and what is love? because i don’t feel butterflies for you all the time. sometimes i feel scared we’re running out of things to talk about. and then i get stressed because is that real or is it because my period is about to start? but then i’m laying in bed scrolling through tiktok and all i can think about is sending them to you and texting you about how crazy my grandma is and asking if you wanna watch saw x when i see you next. relationships ebb and flow but they take work. i want to put in the work.

i’m sorry that it feels like i’m throwing away a friendship for the both of us. i have had big feelings for you for a long time, and i understand how that’s scary for you. time and time again we’ve had this conversation about whether or not we should date, and i sacrificed myself to maintain the status quo. i didn’t want to lose you, i didn’t want you to lose me. but in doing so, you’ve never known what it’s like when i’m not around. i keep creating an environment where you don’t lose anything but i feel like the world is crumbling. i thought i was being mature because it take a big person to stay friends with someone they love, but maybe i’m just not a big person. maybe it’s not the mature thing for me to do when i let myself hurt so much so that you stay. maybe the mature thing is to finally let us both feel the loss. and if i can survive it and it’s permanent, then it is what it is. these boundaries i set were not an easy decision because there’s comfort in the pain of keeping you around on your terms, and i already fucking miss you.

i don’t give up on things. i’ve 100%ed every video game i’ve ever played, i’ve never given up on a book no matter how long it takes me, and i’ve finished every movie i’ve ever started. it’s probably an annoying trait. but by god i haven’t given up on you yet and im not going to now. i want to work through this. and every time we do this stupid dance, we always end up closer than before, despite my best efforts. i wanted to keep you at arms length but you ended up in my arms instead. i said it before but i maintain my conviction: the attraction, our friendship, and being a health partnership is a good enough reason to continue this path, regardless of if it’s right or not. i still think it’s too soon to tell, even for me, as happy as i’ve been for the last two months.

but if it’s just not going to work, i’m gonna miss you. some of my favorite things were when you put your arms around me at the Collective Soul concert. i was still nervous that you weren’t attracted to me, and it made me feel good that you wanted to be close with all of those people around. i’m gonna miss watching movies. film analysis while holding hands is my love language. i’m gonna miss my hands in the hair on the back of your neck, i’m gonna miss seeing you play the bass, i’m gonna miss being able to simply glance at you and know that you thought of the exact same joke that i did without even saying it out loud. you don’t know if you’ll be in love with me, and that’s okay. because even if you were never in love with me, i think these things were love. i don’t think love is as deep as the people around us make it out to be. i think that love is the act of choosing.

if this is permanent and we don’t stay together, the door is always open. i’ll always want you around if you want to come back. inversely, if i get over you and can broach the topic of being friends without feeling the heartache, i hope you’ll leave that door open for me.

i’m sorry again, for all of it. thank you again, for all of it.

[emblazons]

🎶✨️when u get this u have to put 5 songs u actually listen to, publish. Then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers 🎶✨️

Hey Emilia! 💞 I’ve been listening to a lot of new / random stuff lately, so this was timely—plus I love sharing music, so…lmao you caught me at a good time!

1) Orange Juice by Noah Kahan. Serving 2012 indie hipster vibes but in the good way. A little folky-melancholy love song I heard in a TikTok and enjoyed enough to save—and has stayed in rotation a week or so.

2) Blóðberg by Sigur Rós. Sigur Rós is and remains one of my favorite bands of all time—and their first album in a literal decade came out literally the day before my birthday this month, which I consider a personal boon from the universe. This song is strings and melancholy, rich vocals and walls of sound…and feels like standing barefoot + drenched the wake of a waterfall. It’s perfect.

3) You Wish by FLYANABOSS. Do not judge me 😂 This song is hype as hell for the gym (i need hype girl music for that always. That is a very specific ‘i am lifting heavy things and spending half an hour running’ vibe lol) and those videos they do dancing / rapping through a million places are so fun. I catch this song playing in my head at work sometimes too though so. Lmao it’s catchy fs.

4) Englishman in New York by Sting. Listen. I had a moment with The Police / Sting after finishing S2 of ST because of “every breath you take,” but…I’ve actually loved this song since I was a kid (shout out to my uncles) and have always been obsessed with the jazzy vibes and drums juxtaposed against Sting’s voice—especially considering it reminds me of rainy days in the city….and has a surprisingly wholesome message. 12/10.

5) Siegfried by Frank Ocean. This song resonates with me so hard right now—and actually reminded me a lot of Mike when I thought about it (@amaragf had me talking her ear off about it a bit ago lmao). It wasn’t on my radar in spite of me being a solid Frank Ocean fan for years (I even saw him live…in his old touring eras lol), but. Now I feel it on a spiritual level. Has a lot of “forced conformity is killing the queer kids” vibes, which…probably explains a lot of why I like it so much now that I think on it HAHA

—There’s plenty more where that came from but. Those were among the ones on repeat the most lately lmao.

Thanks for the ask!

[stackthedeck]

I posted 11,881 times in 2022

381 posts created (3%)

11,500 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@evilwickedme

@bi-dubmass11

@king-b0mbastic

@elytrians

@dingdongyouarewrong

I tagged 1,995 of my posts in 2022

#asks - 268 posts

#marvel - 71 posts

#matt murdock - 41 posts

#daredevil - 40 posts

#peter parker - 36 posts

#my fanfic - 32 posts

#spiderman - 31 posts

#fanfic - 30 posts

#marveledit - 21 posts

#not to be a lesbian but oh my god - 17 posts

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I made a survey about fanfiction bookmarking habits with the goal of finding out how people save and share fanfiction. I had 107 responses and 9 questions, two of which were completely qualitative, but 7 were quantitative with an option for qualitative responses. This was a rough initial survey and they're biased towards tumblr and tiktok users because those are the platforms I put them out on. This data should not be applied to the whole fan community, but they're interesting nonetheless

I promised y'all graphs so I'm going to throw them under the read more because oh boy

Analysis of the data but I encourage you to look at the results and draw your own conclusions: Fans tend to have some method of saving fanfics that they really enjoy. The bookmark feature on ao3 is the most used but it tends to be a passive action similar to pushing kudos rather than commenting or is used only for fics that are really special. If ao3 bookmarks aren't the primary means of saving a fic, downloading or bookmarking the tab tends to be the most common. Fans seem to be more open to talking about reading fanfic both online and with irl friends although this is still some level of secrecy around it. It seems social media has an impact on what fics get read

See the full post

151 notes - Posted November 15, 2022

#4

My reads on the superbats dynamics

Superman/Batman: coworkers at best, each other’s nightmare scenario at worst

Superman/Bruce Wayne: is the most powerful man on earth…the trophy husband of some weird goth billionaire??

Clark Kent/Batman: Clark “Pulitzer prize winning investigative journalist” Kent and Bat “world’s greatest detective” man are the absolute dream team these two kick ass

Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne: country boy/goth you know what I’m talking about

160 notes - Posted July 30, 2022

#3

Hello! I have come asking if you can do a fic rec for superbat pls? Idk I you do this on tumblr or only on tiktak but either way love your content wishing you a good day! 💖

I AM SO SORRY this has been sitting in my askbox for ages anon I hope you see this!! Like I adore superbat but I was really into them during my phase of not bookmarking anything so I had to dig through my history lmao

Exclusive by rotasha- one of my favorite superbats fics, the slowburn, the mystery around the identity, the angst about keeping secrets, Bruce struggling with being a parent for the first time, Clark bounding with Dick, UGH I LOVE IT

Interview with a Batman by Mithen- God I love Journalist Clark Kent and Batman being soft bro they make out in the batmobile it's so good!!

A Sense of Identity by DaaroMoltor- they start dating before either of them reveals their identity god the angst is off the charts!! And oh my gosh they're both written so well with all their different facets of identity

That Which We Call a Rose by arysteia- I love the way it jumps through time and explores the dynamics of a love square with two people and all the ways their lives intersect

Man of Steel, Man of Heart by capsicleonyourleft- there's so much to love in this fic but I want to give a shout-out to the fight scenes because yes that is exactly how batman is supposed to fight and I want to drill it into the heads of anyone that makes a batman movie and BRUCE HAS A COMPETENCY KINK

Stuck in the Middle (With You) by TheResurrectionist- batfam shenanigans and Clark is there to witness his stepkids (anything with the tag Tim v Damian: Dawn of beating the shit out of each other is excellent lmao)

275 notes - Posted August 22, 2022

#2

Marvel made Matt Murdock a whore because any person in the 80s/90s would see a guy dressed in a bright red bodysuit specifically made to look like the devil because said guy has a complicated relationship with religion and by his nature he feels that he’s already damned and the guy has an absent mother, a dead dad, and was mentored by an emotionally unavailable older man and be like yeah that’s a homosexual

395 notes - Posted April 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Goncharov posting brings a completely different new interesting angle to your what is fanfiction question. If we agree that fanfic has to be based or inspired by a different media, then what is goncharov fanfiction? Does the media have to exist for it to have a transformative Fandom?

aaaah anon I love you so much thank you so much for bringing this to me!! Okay, so my definition of fanfiction is fiction written by self-professed fans in a fandom specific context. So I'm a fan of Spider-Man, I write fiction about Spider-Man to post on ao3 for other fans to read. If marvel hired me to write a Spider-Man comic, I'm still a fan who is writing fiction, but I'm no longer doing it in the context of fandom.

So with that definition in mind, we need to categorize what the fuck Goncharov is. So in my mind, Goncharov is a meme, but it is also the practice of collective storytelling, really no different functionally than Arthurian folklore or any mythology that's been taken out of its original context. We all looked at a pair of boots and said let's write a story together, that's not that different than looking at a mountain and connecting it to the legitimacy of English kings. Goncharov is myth/folklore just very recent and on the internet.

So there is fanfic of Goncharov on ao3. If someone calls their own work fanfic, then it is fanfic. People are not writing these fanfics to add to the folklore, they're not claiming that what they're writing down is canon, rather they're claiming to be building off the canon (that doesn't exist in the sense of the movie, but does exist in the sense that we've all agreed on some sense of truth to it). But because the transformation of the fiction is happening at the same time as the fiction is being defined, the transformation is influencing the collective telling. What is the truth of this story we've all agreed on and what is the fan interpretation in the form of fiction?

In the sense that fandom culture is baked into the creation of this collective myth, all of Goncharov is fanfiction. But because we all have equal creative power over the truth of the fiction, none of Goncharov is fanfiction. Both things are true at the same time. Schrodinger's fanfic if you will.

404 notes - Posted November 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[dearthinkingoutloud]

"You were holding out to find the opposite." (pt. 1)

Pre-reading: Listen to "opposite" by Sabrina Carpenter

The first time that I heard Sabrina Carpenter's song "opposite", I was enjoying her DC stop on her Emails I Can't Send Tour. She had released her album by the same name a few months before her tour announcement and I BEGGED my parents to let me go. After being a fan of her for eight years, I would finally be able to see her in concert as my first concert without my parents! I studied the entire album for months (as if I wasn't already listening on repeat) leading up to it when suddenly, she released four extra songs including opposite. I listened to one of them before the show but wanted to experience the rest of them live, so I decided to save the other three for the concert on May 14.

When she finally played "opposite," I was listening intently to the lyrics and immediately broke down. With all of the adrenaline and energy in the room combined with the lyrics, the tears came quite quickly. The first lyrics alone...

"Oh, so you do have a type? And it's not me" and a few seconds later...

"If you wanted brown eyes I could have got contacts"

Now... I don't have blue eyes like Miss Carpenter, but I inverted it to fit my experience. In my head, she might as well have said, "if you wanted blue/green eyes." Like the TikTok I posted earlier stated, "this song is so WOC-coded (women of colour)," and so as soon as I related it to my life, emotions spilled out of me. In this song, she talks about the pain of someone you like or love moving on to someone else who looks opposite of you. Boy... does that sound familiar... As a black female who grew up in many predominantly white areas, this was unfortunately a common occurrence for me. On many occasions, I would develop crushes on people who expressed no reciprocated interest; in fact, they often looked the opposite of me. White or light-skinned. Blonde. Blue or Green eyes. This disappointing cycle continued so long that I started to look internally and wonder... is it me? What is it about me that you don't like? Are my eyes not special? Am I too dark? Too big? The people who did express interest in me were adults (gross, I know) and/or only sexual in nature which I quickly declined. My self-esteem and self-confidence took a deep decline very quickly.

At the end of the song, Sabrina sings,

"And I know now Even if I tried to change That somehow You'd end up with her anyway"

... which, as you can imagine, made me sob even louder. By then, I had learned the song and was able to sing it with her, so my new concert buddy and I began doing a cross of scream-singing and scream-crying to close out the song.

As a child into my teen years, I would await the day when I needed my ends trimmed so that I could have my hair silk pressed. I wanted to lose weight and didn't want to be taller. I was obsessed with Snapchat filters. They made my eyes bigger, my nose smaller, my lips the right size. I didn't fully grasp it then, but I had wished to look like the girls who everyone wanted (in my predominantly white school). That internalized racism villainized my natural beautiful features and made them the reason why nobody liked me.

In Chapter 8 of Speak Okinawa, Elizabeth Miki Brina recounts her teen years and how her internalized racism manifested in her actions. Previously, she had called herself racist terms, but when she turned thirteen, she, all of a sudden, tried to go by her Japanese name "Miki" (she didn't succeed since everyone had been calling her Elizabeth her entire life thus far). This may seem like a step towards embracing her Japanese side, but her internalized self-hatred (which she doesn't quite know yet) came out in her constant desire to have blonde hair, change her eye shape, and wear blue contacts. She continuously expressed how ugly her Asian features are and therefore, found ways to look different than her natural self. Her mom only feels further rejected by seeing how openly Brina despised the only part of her that was completely related to her mother.

As Sabrina Carpenter said, I know now that it was not me who was at fault or necessarily them for not liking me. Now, I have found love for my natural hair, skin, lips, nose, hips, height, and so on. Of course, I still struggle to love myself like most other people, but there is a clear improvement to my past mindset.

*Look forward to Part 2 in my next post!*

♡ dearthinkingoutloud

[misterellyott]

I like to listen to Dusty Thunder read AITA stories while I'm at work at night. I do a lot of walking, so I just let my tiktok play with my headphones in. It's that or I watch youtube. A lot of my nightly things I do are boring, tedious and just bland so having this little bit of noise keeps my head in the game and gives me the ability to just keep going even when my brain starts trying to play the, I don't want to do this so I'm not going to do this till it's the very last second and stress myself out.

Anyways, there was a story tonight that was like 'aita for telling my wife that after five years of her mental breakdown and not being employed that I think she needs to get a job.'

Basically, he has been working 80+ hours a week and the wife continued to refuse to get a job or even really help out around the house because of her mental health.

Now don't get me wrong, I very much do believe in mental health issues. I, myself, suffer from many. But, I do understand that eventually when push comes to shove, there has to be a compromise on some part.

My wife and I aren't happy in our living situation. I mean, who can really be happy living in a trailer long term with a 14 year old and 13 pets. It's a lot, and chores often go overlooked and even when chores get done, by the end of the night the tiny home is almost back to the state it was before you even started and the exhaustion of fighting an unending uphill battle just starts to wear on you.

We realize that the amount of pets is ultimately a large part of our issues. But, neither of us is willing to part with them. How do you part with creatures that you whole heartedly love and treat like your children?

We are parents, yes, to a 14 year old and only very briefly thought about adding another human child to our mix. It was very apparent early on in our marriage/relationship that we were not going to be having any more kids. A mutual agreement that is still present at this time.

She turns 34 this year and I turn 32, not overly old, but as a dad who has been caring for a child for the past 14 years and I never really got to be a person of my own. (Yes, I realize that is a choice I made... as a teen... to have a child, and I knew what that would mean, ish. No, I do not regret my son. Yes, I do think and wish I could go back to have waited and had him at an older age, but you can't turn back the clock) That being said, my wife and I are excited that we get to see him grow up and in a few years we get to be our very own people. We will get to be included in whatever wonderful life awaits our son, and at the same time get to have our very own life as well.

That also means, like most people, our pets are our children. We treat them like children, we care for them like children (as much as you can a non-human creature). We feed them the best foods, we give them treats, toys, dog park, walks, trips outside (for our ferrets who love being in the grass and exploring), etc.

It also means expensive as HELL vet bills. Odin alone was one of our most expensive pets as he had a very serious illness that eventually led us to having to let him go this past May.

But again, I look at all their little tiny faces and I think what would life be like without them? Sure, there are some positives. We could go on vacation without wondering or trying to save up for whatever we need to do with them while we are gone. We could leave the house for long periods of time without having to crate them, Luna and Indi absolutely WRECK the house if we don't.

But, what would coming home be like? Not to see their beautiful faces greeting me, not to get their wonderful kisses and loves and cuddles.

Anyways, I'm getting away with the reason for this long as post.

I'm EXHAUSTED. I can't say it enough. My body is breaking down, I'm running on empty. I'm struggling to pull out all the stops just to make it through another day.

I'm sick again, for the second time in less than a week. I can feel the burn in the back of my throat and the way my breathing is getting all ragged.

We started getting a little spend happy again, and we gotta nip that back in the bud so we can get back on track for paying things off so that maybe, just maybe I can go down in hours.

I know my wife is exhausted working almost 50 hours a week and being the primary care of our home. And I try my hardest to make sure I do as many chores as I can, feed the pets, change the puppy pads, make sure everyone has water, pick up and tidy anytime I find things out of place, etc. But, I have no energy whatsoever to actually clean clean anything.

I'm working well over 70 hours a week and I have little to no time at home and what time I do have at home, I find it so draining to do anything other than lay in bed watching youtube or sleeping.

My son keeps bugging me to play video games with him, but the moment I sit down on my bed and grab my controller, I'm already tired and ready to just curl up under the blankets.

I try to offer to have him come and do things with me, chores like walking the dogs or taking them to the dog park, so we can at least see each other for a while, but he is 14, and those things a boring.

I've been making sure that I always tell him goodbye and tell him I love him when I'm leaving, etc, to at least let him know I'm thinking about him, but I know he just wants my attention and I'm trying so hard but I'm so burnt out that even just five minutes of a video game and I'm spent and just want to sleep.

My wife is constantly upset as well because we don't see each other like we used to. And I totally get that. She often gets upset when I don't want to go to the dog park on days where she can take them, cause I want more sleep. Or when I don't want to stay up to do laundry, but she won't do it later when I wake up cause she wants it done early in the day.

We all have right to feel the way we are feeling, but I think we are all not taking into consideration each others levels of 'can' right now.

I want to be able to just shoulder everything and be able to do all of it and still be happy and healthy. But, at the end of the day, I'm already collapsing under everything and I just hurt all the time and it sucks.

I don't really have much to look forward to most days. As of this week, we finally worked our schedules out so that I have one day off a week instead of working 7 days a week. But, that still leaves me working both jobs three days a week and one or the other job three days a week.

I need a vacation, but we can't afford for me to take any time off work. Not even with the laundry list of medical issues I need to have attended to.

I have a broken tooth that needs extracted, I have a large hernia in the upper portion of my stomach that's expanding up my ribs and causing mild to severe discomfort most days, I have blood in my stool, I have some sort of head condition that without my prescription that I'm currently on lands me laid up in bed begging for death and I still have several months to go before the first open appointment in December for it, my constant heartburn is getting worse and I feel like I'm always nauseous. My foot has mostly gotten used to the broken bone shard that is floating around near the front of my right foot, but occasionally I step down wrong and my whole day is ruined. In a nut shell, my check engine light has been on so long it's begun to blink rapidly and I know I need to go in but I can't find the motivation to actually do anything about most my issues because it requires being awake during normal people hours (one of my jobs is a full time overnight position), it requires me making phone calls (my absolute worst nightmare), and it requires me actually having to make and keep appointments (my adhd's worst nightmare).

If we had a better place to live, I honestly think a lot of our issues wouldn't be so bad. But, the trailer is slowly falling apart due to use, and we don't have the funds to repair it while still paying off debt.

We have no family, no friends to fall back on. No one we could move in with, or rent a place with. Our credit is shit, and we are absolutely exhausted living like this and yet, until our debt is paid and we can save and somehow magically find a place that allows ferrets, we are stuck living like this.

And still in, I don't want to give up our ferrets for a house. I keep holding on to hope that one of these days we will find someone a co-sign a house with, or rent with, or something amazing like some of the crazy fun amazing stories you see on tiktok and youtube and blah blah blah.

I often think about buying small amounts into the lottery to even see if we could get just a little lucky with like a thousand dollars or something, but then I can't even think about wasting the few dollars for that but then turn around and drop thirty bucks on fast food.

And there in is another problem. Unhappy, exhausted, tired, I'm turning to food again for comfort and I'm gaining weight, and I'm even more unhappy with myself.

Why can't this be easy? Why does working with such severe mental illnesses have to be so damn hard? Why does my brain work this way? Why can't I just be a normal person and just get through my day without wallowing, without thinking about every little thing we could possibly do to try and penny pinch to pay down our debts just a little bit faster and then end up fucking that up by buying something expensive to try and make myself feel better? (Food, I'm really just talking about the fast food / coffee / etc)

I won't spend 20-40 dollars on a video game, so why am I buying so much fast food for our family? Snacks? Chips? Ice Cream?

In Sept, things have got to change. And I just don't know what we can change or do different to help lift us up and change our currently negative, tired, outlook.

[spooky-kakashi]

i saw a tiktok MONTHS ago abt the sexuality hc of seijoh and everyone had a little bi flag on them except iwa iwa had a banner that said this mf gay asf and i havent stopped thinking abt it

[reigningmax]

Max/Daniel fic recs (1/?)

Here are some amazing fics I’ve read and loved over the past few months. Thank you always to the fic writers, they are the backbones of society (fandom).

* Favorites, ** Smut, // ABO

***bees and butterflies by @toastandvegemite Daniel asks Max if he’d like to top. Max says no. It turns into a whole thing.

*i need a map of your head (translated into english) by toastandvegemite  Sometimes it feels like Daniel and Max are speaking different languages.

***let me know if I'm reading this right by toastandvegemite Sometimes it feels like Daniel and Max are speaking different languages.

[Honestly, Danni’s fics can take up 80% of my recs. Go read every single fic she’s written, but especially Maxiel. No one does them the way she does]

//*so happy i was invited by blinkiesays "I just wanna drive a fucking race car," Daniel says, after he's let the moment go too long to keep the joke up in the air. "That's all I want to do, is drive a fucking race car." The smile drops off Michael's face. "Yeah, I get it," he says, not getting it at all.

**steal the air out of my lungs (make me feel it) by nacho3  “Hey,” Daniel says, sauntering into a work room balancing a green smoothie and two large coffees from the caf. He puts one in front of Max. “You ready to save lives, Maxy?”

***make a wish that weighs a ton by rickybobby What they had was akin to a circumstantial partnership. There were few people in the world that could understand the things Daniel worried about on a daily basis, even less so the people who were willing to stick around to hear it. Through nothing other than convenience and circumstance, Max fulfilled the basic requirements of Daniel’s social needs, along with the perks: available, attractive, attentive.

***careful fear and dead devotion by hardlythewiser (sequinedfairy)  Daniel's already having a rough year; then Max dumps him.

**like ribbons by heroics  Here they are now, over halfway through the season, and at least one of them’s gotten off after almost every race.

**throw the keys back to me by thermocline But Daniel gets texts from Max more and more often. Links to TikToks. Selfies from the paddock. Snapchat memories of Daniel under the rumpled blankets of Max’s hotel bed in Melbourne, hickies blooming over his chest, at which point Daniel thinks: maybe it’s time for them to try again.

***house fires by tobabylon @geluksalig  Max gets a new performance coach. His name is Daniel.

***my kind’s your kind (series) by hardlythewiser (sequinedfairy) It’s the fourth time: Daniel shouldn’t pretend that he doesn’t know exactly how many times it’s been, that these nights in Monaco haven’t become the way he tracks time, replacing his ten years of living by the F1 calendar. There’s days when he doesn’t know what race is next, but he always knows exactly how many weeks it’s been since he’s done this. The chair is closer to the bed now. Daniel had made Max move it, asked him how he expected to learn anything if he was all the way over there, did he even want to learn.

***all over you (and me) by TheNorthRemembers Or: Max starts lactating and dealing with it turns out to be both more and less fun than thought.

***comeon, star boy by @yekoc Daniel’s just slinging his bag over his shoulder to head out to the parking lot when there’s a noise behind him, the hollow metallic echo of a locker door slamming. Turning, he sees that kid. Max. The running back who always fumbles.

***chemical highs and clear blue skies by yekoc “Did he offer you enough,” Daniel says. Max looks over at him, sharp and surprised. “For whatever it is you need,” Daniel says. “Your car payment this month. First and last, for rent.” He thinks about the kid’s odd accent, the slight awkwardness to his words. “A plane ticket home.” Max shrugs. He kicks at the white t-shirt that’s on the ground near his foot.

***heaviness when I move (everything belongs to you) by Aurelia (Lily_rizzy) Or: Max has many feelings about Daniel with babies and about him and Daniel having a baby.

***second soul by @screwstyles The morning of the last day of the season, Max asks his assistant to book him a one-way ticket to Bali.

***with the sun in our eyes (series) by screwstyles A fake dating AU set in 2025: It’s bad enough that Max is outed by an ex in the middle of racing season, and then his team suggests he pretend to date Daniel to soften the blow. It’s as bad an idea as it sounds.

***//Hart to breathe inside my ocean by screwstyles Realistically, Daniel knows he’s aging, and he’s not in denial about that, but processing three separate incidents in the space of four weeks where his age has come up has made him think about it more than usual.

[Honestly, everything by screwstyles is golden]

***anything to get to the rush by kingsguarding  Every year, the World Champion gets to choose another driver to … celebrate with. It’s an old tradition, apparently. As old as the sport itself. Part of the prize of winning, part of your reward.

***figure me sweetly by @love-leah Daniel had just been thinking he’d tell Max "good season," "next year I’ll be the one fucking beating you, mate." Maybe, "but seriously, I’m proud of you," if Max's vibe was really desperate. Instead, he ended up standing out in the open, in front of the Haas garage and probably Mick’s poor fucking virgin eyes, tilting the champagne bottle up for Max, and watching the muscles of his throat as he swallowed a long, clean pour of it.

***//hold it to the sun by love-leah When they get home, Max strips his shirt off right away, the fabric of it harsh against his nipples. Daniel drops their bags inside the door and looks at him, hungry and exhausted, and says, “I don’t want to think about racing ever again,” and Max’s whole body feels cold and sore, like after a crash, even while Daniel’s hands press into his waist and he leans in to kiss Max’s chest.

*Cupid by eefiplier Max and Daniel making loooove

**lions in the wild by anaesthetist  He drops his face into Max’s hair, nosing at it, inhaling the putrid-sweet smell of Red Bull, champagne, and dry sweat. He didn’t shower before he came, tired and sticky with Martin in tow, turning up at Daniel’s hotel room with nothing more than an insolent you promised.

***kissed her, now you’re seeing double by @ricstappen​ It’s Max and Dan. Dan and Max. But very occasionally, it’s Max and Dan and Carlos.

**MV33 by Whippasnappa Daniel finds out Max is on Grindr. He's curious. He's just going to download the app, just to see. Just to look at Max's profile. He's curious how Max picks up men, curious if Max puts his real face out there. He's definitely not going to message Max. He's definitely not going to do that. He messages Max.

***all your days by @goldenhourhimbo​​ They’re in love. That’s it, that’s the plot.

***for you, my sacrifice is too by highyellowleaves @blamemma  One of those private booths at Cirque Le Soir. That’s where the boys wanted to go. Was booked ages ago. Daniel rolls his eyes. It’s one of the last places he wants to go. Influencers in heels pretending their interested in who he is and what he does. Prying eyes everywhere, paparazzi at the front door. McLaren’s afterparty options aren’t much better. They’re all heading to Tape, where a commercial DJ will be playing some dodgy remixes, and he’ll have similar problems as Max. It’s not how he wants to celebrate. But he knows he has to show face. To thank the engineers and the strategists and the media team for all they’ve done so far. He’ll show face. I’m heading to Tape. Keep in touch tho? We can head somewhere else. It’s normal for him and Max to find each other. They’ve stumbled into this pattern of locating one another, finding excuses to leave their other friends, enjoying each other’s company, being responsible for one another, ending up in the same hotel, same room, same bed.