#in the end of the day everybody has a strong opinion about with who they ship Bruce

[emotional-piece-of-meat]

I cannot stop thinking about this idea so: Dick and Jason ship war.

They are both extremely overprotective of their dad Bruce dating life, but they like to theoretically discuss it in the way with who he should be shipped.

Jason as proud Wonder Woman stan convinced that Bruce do not deserve this Goodness, but he would like to see her as his other parent.

Dick is superbat truther for life, because "HAVE YOU SEEN THEM?! SO MUCH TENSION, ARE YOU BLIND?! BE FOR REAL!". 

This started as a funny haha family discussion and ended as a bloody war. They are also trying to get batfamily and some JL members on their side. Yeah, even Alfred, but he refused to give any comments about it.

[bibibbon]

Just realized that the way Deku is treated like a nobody for saving the world in the ending is exactly how All Might was trated after his retirement.

There are no more fans pestering All Might for his autograph or trying to talk to him, we don't see any of his fans or kids even try to approach him. It's like this guy wasn't the #1 hero for years and helped them feel safe in a chaotic world, but was filling papers for 40 years instead.

Everybody knows about All Might's real form and they act like he's nothing just like with Izuku. Dai is the only one of those kids who recognizes him. The way heroes are discarded once they are no longer of use either because of death or retirement is sad honestly. It reeks of commercialism's Out with the old, in with the new kind of mentality

Ooooh an unintentional parallel by horikoshi between these two??? Iam not sure

However, Iam not sure what horikoshi was trying to get at here. In my opinion, it doesn't make sense at all for the public to simply become silent about all might after his retirement specifically the all might fans in particular. After all mights forced reitement there was various talks in the media about the great change this would cause in society and how they could prepare for it and this can be seen in chapter 115.

I do find it interesting that everything seemed to be convinetly quiet for all might after his retirement maybe this is because a lot of people still didn't know hos legal name and all they knew was his second identity instead. But don't you think its weird that the public who saw all might fight and be forced into retirement due to that fight not question a lot of things at hand like:

Why does all might look so different?, is it another quirk?

Who was that villain that was so strong to be able to take down the strongest hero in Japan?

Has all might been lying to the public?

For a character like all might who was set up to be the most infuelntial hero within Japan and the world, who was set up to be a pillar to society his absence was treated like a casual Tuesday morning which is so weird. Sure its understandable that people would of expected all might to retire soon since he has been on duty for over 30 years but it would still cause a huge ordeal that probably the guy who kept japan the safest and has been the most constant thing in hero society is suddenly retiring.

You would also think that all might would still be visibly shown to have fans, people who acknowledge him, respect him, appreciate him or heck even the opposite people who dislike him and want to kill him. Horikoshi could of shown us how all might deals with all of this whether that be fans bothering him nonstop like paparazzi, invading his personal space and bombarding him with questions and wanting him to sign their things or haters who keep posting about all might and outright maybe threatening to kill him for a various of reasons. Yagi was a convenient cover up for all might in the vigilantes manga he used it to pretend to be his own assistant to naomasa and he could easily live a quiet life without needing to be bothered or in danger 24/7 by villains and what they could do in his disguise of yagi.

Yagi is the true all might that the world was never meant to see so what happens now that the world knows?

Does the world simply cancel all might? Honestly I doubt it but hey iam adding it here since it could be a possibility.

Overall, this does seem pretty weird with how the former strongest hero in Japan simply being forgotten about even though the whole idea of yagi being all mights disguise was framed in a way where it helped keep him safe and was equally convient for him.

Moving on to izuku now this one is equally as annoying and weird as all mights to be Frank. The hero society is never framed to have fully learnt their lesson since almost everything from the last chapter and before that hints at the topic of history will repeat or rhyme itself. The way izuku receives recognition from characters in the series is very mind-boggling to me since its always inconsistent. @mikeellee provides good examples of this whether that be izuku being never given the credit to him cleaning the beach or to him being able to help keep control and keep cool under pressure during the shopping mall incident which helped save lives.

Izuku does seem to get much more negative light when it comes to his mistakes which is fair and valid however, arcs like the vigilante and final arc come to prove that the thing that izuku is necessarily being told off about is something outside of his control. Izuku can't control the fact that he is all mights successor he didn't know what he was signing up for when he received ofa and was ignorant to the existence of afo. The same idea applies to the civilians who put a huge pressure on him to get things back to normal and bring back an era of peace. You expect a 16 year old child solider to do that? The final arc was framed in a way where izuku couldn't save shigaraki and in my opinion with the way it was written and framed it seemed like ahigaraki wouldn't be saved. Izuku tried yet he lacked everything he needed, knowledge, resources etc etc and due to that it led to a horrible conclusion for both characters making them unlikeable (to me).

There was this very insightful meta that went along the title of the "uselessness" of izuku midoriya. This meta points out a poem about izuku and how that revolves around his character while I do enjoy the idea of this I still dislike the execution of it. Yes, this can be an explanation as to why izuku is so forgotten adding that ontop of the reoccurring idea that izuku is plain and easily forgettable it meshes well as an explanation however, you would think that after someone has accomplished incredible feats like izuku and someone who has a statue would be talked about right? And not in a fangilring cheerleading way similar to what happend to bakugo and shoto because that just went to show how hero society didn't change instead.

In the end, I don't think that this was an intentional parallel written by horikoshi but it was an interesting one

[frogs-in3-hills]

okay i’ve had most of my life to steam on the ending of princess tutu and i’m only just now peeking in on the fandom side of things. and i love all the post-canon stories where ahiru gets to be a girl again!! but there’s another side there where i think we are missing the potential comedy of fakir’s girlfriend literally just being a duck. he starts taking the train to the city outside and taking university classes to hone his writing. he doesn’t really make friends with anyone else but he seems nice enough and he sometimes likes going to watch the ballet students. he has very strong opinions on the works of drosselmeyer. he talks and dresses like he’s from the 1900s and he’s obviously never used a computer before. it’s probably because he’s from that weirdass, walled-off part of the city where nobody ever returns from. he really likes ducks. and apparently he has a girl back home but he won’t ever talk about her.

then one day he starts bringing a duck to his lectures. an actual fucking duck. well, she’s a very well-behaved duck, and fakir seems much happier when he brings her so everyone just kind of accepts it. oh yeah, fakir, that’s the duck guy. he writes about ducks and he has a duck named duck. she’s a very friendly duck, and he lets her waddle off to hang out with other groups or to swim in the fountain. sometimes she perches on his desk in class and watches him write as if she can read the words (and he still uses a feather quill and ink—in hindsight, he’s an english major, so this is maybe the least weird thing about him). sometimes after the lecture he’ll sit outside and explain everything to his duck like she could actually understand, and everybody just figures that’s how he processes, like a programmer with a rubber duck on their desk, except with a real duck instead. he writes about ducks too. lots and lots of ducks. he is, inexplicably, the duck guy.

their university has a small ballet major. anyone is free to use the practice rooms. one of the ballet students swears up and down she once saw the strangest thing through the window one night—fakir and his duck, dancing a piecemealed pas de deux in the darkness. the duck was standing on a little stool so she could reach his hand and she was on the tips of her feet, as if trying to dance en pointe. and fakir was laughing. nobody had ever really seen fakir laugh before. it was almost as weird as him dancing with a duck who had somehow gotten ballet training. the student told all of her friends about this strange sight, but nobody believed her—“that’s crazy,” they said, “you must be dreaming up fairy tales.”

fakir is mysterious and offputting and quite the loner. but everyone mostly likes him because he is the duck guy.

[milfstalin]

When I met Stalin, I did not find him enigmatic. I found him the easiest person to talk to I ever met. He is far and away the best committee chairman of my experience. He can bring everybody’s views out and combine them in the minimum of time. His method of running committees reminded me somewhat of Jane Addams of Hull House or Lillian D. Wald of Henry Street Settlement. They had the same kind of democratically efficient technique, but they used more high pressure than Stalin did.

If Stalin has been inaccessible to foreigners—there were exceptions even to this—that does not mean that he lived in isolation, in a sort of Kremlin ivory tower. There were close to 200,000,000 people keeping him busy. He was seeing a lot of them. Not always necessarily the party leaders. A milkmaid who had broken the milking record, a scientist who had broken the atom, an aviator who flew to America, a coal miner who invented a new labor process, a workman with a housing difficulty, an engineer balked by new conditions—any person representing either a signal achievement or a typical problem might be invited by Stalin to talk it over. That was the way he got his data and kept in touch with the movement of the country.

[...]

My first impression of him was vaguely disappointing. A stocky figure in a simple suit of khaki color, direct, unassuming, whose first concern was to know whether I understood Russian sufficiently to take part in discussion. Not very imposing for so great a man, I thought. Then we sat down rather casually, and Stalin was not even at the head of the table; Voroshilov was. Stalin took a place where he could see all our faces and started the talk by a pointed question to the man against whom I had complained. After that Stalin seemed to become a sort of background, against which other people’s comments went on. The brilliant wit of Kaganovich, the cheerful chuckle of Voroshilov, the characteristics of the lesser people called to consult, all suddenly stood out. I began to understand them all and like them; I even began to understand the editor against whom I had complained. Suddenly I myself was talking and getting my facts out faster and more clearly than I ever did in my life. People seemed to agree with me. Everything got to the point very fast and smoothly, with Stalin saying less than anyone.

Afterward in thinking it over I realized how Stalin’s genius for listening helped each of us express ourselves and understand the others. I recalled his trick of repeating a word of mine either with questioning intonation or a slight emphasis, which suddenly made me feel I had either not quite seen the point or perhaps had overstated it, and so drove me to make it plainer. I recalled how he had done this to others also. Then I understood that his listening has been a dynamic force.

This listening habit dates back to the early days of his revolutionary career. “I remember him very well from the early days of our Party,” said a veteran Bolshevik to me. “A quiet youth who sat at the edge of the committee, saying almost nothing, but listening very much. Toward the end he would make a few comments, sometimes merely as questions. Gradually we came to see that he always summed up best our joint thinking.” The description will be recognized by anyone who ever met Stalin. In any group he is usually last to express his opinion. He does not want to block the full expression of others, as he might easily do by speaking first. Besides this, he is always learning by listening.

“He listens even to the way the grass grows,” said a Soviet citizen to me.

On the data thus gathered, Stalin forms conclusions, not “alone in the night,” which Emil Ludwig said was Mussolini’s way, but in conference and discussion. Even in interviews, he seldom receives the interviewer alone; Molotov, Voroshilov, or Kaganovich are likely to be about. Probably he does not even grant an interview without discussing it first with his closest comrades. This is a habit he formed very early. In the days of the underground revolutionary movement, he grew accustomed to close teamwork with comrades who held each other’s lives in their hands. In order to survive, they must learn to agree quickly and unanimously, to feel each other’s instincts, to guess even at a distance each other’s brains. It was in such a group that he gained his Party name—it is not the one that he was born with—“the Steel One, Stalin.”

[...]

Stalin brings certain important qualities to these joint decisions. People who meet him are first of all impressed by his directness and simplicity, his swift approach. Next they notice his clearness and objectivity in handling questions. He completely lacks Hitler’s emotional hysteria and Mussolini’s cocky self-assertion; he does not thrust himself into the picture. Gradually one becomes aware of his keen analysis, his colossal knowledge, his grip of world politics, his willingness to face facts, and especially his long view, which fits the problem into history, judging not only its immediate factors, but its past and future too.

Stalin’s rise to power came rather slowly. The rise of his type is slow and sure. It began far back with his study of human history and especially the history of revolutions. President Roosevelt commented to me with surprise on Stalin’s knowledge of the Cromwellian Revolution in Britain as shown in his talk with H. G. Wells. But Stalin quite naturally studied both the British and the American historical revolutions far more intimately than British and American politicians do. Tsarist Russia was due for a revolution. Stalin intended to be in it and help give it form. He made himself a thorough scientist on the process of history from the Marxian viewpoint: how the masses of people live, how their industrial technique and social forms develop, how social classes arise and struggle, how they succeed. Stalin analyzed and compared all past revolutions. He wrote many books about them. But he is not only a scientist; he also acts.

In the early days of the Revolution, Stalin’s name was hardly known outside the Party. In 1923, during Lenin’s last illness, I was told by men whose judgment I trusted that Stalin was “our coming man.” They based this on his keen knowledge of political forces and his close attention to political organization as secretary of the Communist Party. They also based it on his accurate timing of swift action and said that thus far in the Revolution he hid not once guessed wrong. They said that he was the man to whom “responsible Party men” turned for the clearest statement of what they all thought., In those days Trotsky sneered at Stalin as the “most average man” in the Party. In a sense it was true. Stalin keeps close to the “average man”; the “average man” is the material of politics. But Stalin does it with a genius that is very far from average.

“The art of leadership,” said Stalin once, “is a serious matter. One must not lag behind the movement, because to do so is to become isolated from the masses. But one must not rush ahead, for this is to lose contact with the masses.” He was telling his comrades how to become leaders; he was also expressing his own ideal, which he has very effectively practiced.

[...]

Glimpses of Stalin’s personal relations come chiefly through his contacts with picturesque figures who have helped make Soviet history. Valery Chkalov, the brilliant aviator who made the first flight across the North Pole from Moscow to America, told of an afternoon that he spent at Stalin’s summer home from four o’clock till after midnight. Stalin sang many Volga songs, put on gramophone records for the younger people to dance, and generally behaved like a normal human being relaxing in the heart of his family. He said he had learned the songs in his Siberian exile when there wasn’t much to do but sing.

The three women aviators who broke all world records for women by their spectacular flight from Moscow to the Far East were later entertained at an evening party at the Kremlin in their honor. One of them, Raskova, related afterwards how Stalin had joked with them about the prehistoric days of the matriarchate when women ruled human society. He said that in the early days of human development women had created agriculture as a basis for society and progress, while men “only hunted and went to war.” After a reference to the long subsequent centuries of woman’s slavery, Stalin added, “Now these three women come to avenge the heavy centuries of woman’s suppression.”

[...]

“Comrades! Citizens!” he said, as he has said often. Then he added, “Brothers and Sisters!” It was the first time Stalin ever used in public those close family words. To everyone who heard them, those words meant that the situation was very serious, that they must now face the ultimate test together and that they must all be closer and dearer to each other than they had ever been before. It meant that Stalin wanted to put a supporting arm across their shoulders, giving them strength for the task they had to do. This task was nothing less than to accept in their own bodies the shock of the most hellish assault of history, to withstand it, to break it, and by breaking it save the world. They knew they had to do it, and Stalin knew they would.

Stalin made perfectly plain that the danger was grave, that the German armies had taken most of the Baltic states, that the struggle would be very costly, and that the issues were between “freedom or slavery, life or death to the Soviet State.” He told them: “The enemy is cruel and implacable. He is out to seize our lands, watered with our sweat . . . to convert our peoples into the slaves of German princes and barons.” He called upon the “daring initiative and intelligence that are inherent in our people,” which he himself for more than twenty years had helped to create. He outlined in some detail the bitter path they should follow, each in his own region, and said that they would find allies among the freedom-loving peoples of the world. Then he summoned them “forward—to victory.”

Erskine Caldwell, reporting that dawn from Moscow, said that tremendous crowds stood in the city squares listening to the loud speakers, “holding their breath in such profound silence that one could hear every inflection of Stalin’s voice.” Twice during the speech, even the sound of water being poured into a glass could be heard as Stalin stopped to drink. For several minutes after Stalin had finished the silence continued. Then a motherly-looking woman said, “He works so hard, I wonder when he finds time to sleep. I am worried about his health.”

That was the way that Stalin took the Soviet people into the test of war.

[awoogayanderes]

DEFENDING THEM IN A CONVO

➪ request : “omg what about tecchou, jouno and aku when they hear a conversation where someone tells s/o that they're scary but she tells them that they’re wrong and they (the characters) are the purest person in the world.” - anonymous

➪ other notes : im on my writing streak fr (before i burnout and disappear again) non-edited !

Tecchou Suehiro :

- despite of tecchou’s passive attitude, he was a strong hunting dog who shouldn’t be taken lightly

- some people are shocked how you’re dating a strong swordsman and because of tecchou’s passive attitude they don’t have shame in asking you about him

- you were sitting at a table outside a cafe, suddenly a stranger sat in front of you, curiously recognizing who you were

- “i mean aren’t you terrified one day he’ll snap at you, i heard something similar about military men…” the random stranger inquired making a face at you

- unknown to them, tecchou was around the corner coming back with ice cream for both you and him

- it had never occurred in his mind that you would even care about him snapping as you know how well put he is with you

- that being said, he stayed where he was, wanting to see what you would say

- “tecchou’s the sweetest man i’ve ever met, he cares for me in a way no one has ever, so i’d really appreciate it if you stop talking about him so negatively,” and with that you stood up and left in a huff

- what you didn’t expect was to bump into your astonished boyfriend

- “tecchou! you’ll never guess what just happened,” you ramble to him about the rude stranger and he feels both of the ice creams in his hands melting as he’s in awe

- before either of you said anything else, he kissed you gently, a bright red showing up on his face

- “thank you for defending me my love,” he says, finally handing you your ice cream

- he’s extremely lucky to have you, someone who will defend him even if he’s not there, he couldn’t ask for a better partner

Saigiku Jouno :

- known to almost everybody, jouno is a very brutal man, and with the power of being a hunting dog that leads to fear

- everybody is shocked how this man is even dating someone who’s the complete opposite of him, despite most people fearing him, some were bold enough to talk to you about him

- you and jouno were at a restaurant, a minute after excusing himself to go to the restroom someone sat down next to you, weirdly looking at you

- “how could you possibly be with someone as brute as he is? i mean, are you okay in your relationship? do you need help?!” the stranger even reaches for your hand

- of course jouno and his perky ears heard everything, he could feel rage bubbling inside of you, so he silently waited for your reaction

- he knew his methods were considered wrong to most people, but at the end of the day your opinion was the only one that mattered to him

- a smile emerged from his lips as your heartbeat started getting faster

- “i don’t think his affairs concern you, he’s the one protecting you from those who want to harm, and yet you’re here complaining about it, he cares about me, more than anyone has ever cared about you,” you snatched your hand away before getting up with a scowl on your face

- jouno went after you not before hearing the gasp of the stranger

- “the nerve of some people,” you complain when you see your smirking boyfriend

- “no need to get all winded up my dear,” he grabs your hand and with that your heartbeat goes back to normal

- “though it excites me to see you angry over me,” he chuckles and you roll your eyes, thankful he can’t see you right now

- jouno hasn’t needed anyone his whole life, managing to do everything on his own but when you’re by his side, it keeps him calm, knowing that you’ll always be there for him

Ryūnosuke Akutagawa :

- well he’s known as the black fanged hellhound of the port mafia, what do you expect

- same as with jouno, everyone is shocked, even petrified that he’s in a relationship

- you were waiting outside of a store for aku, as he said that he forgot something, that something being a surprise gift for you, and as you were minding your business, a stranger comes up to you and gasps at you

- “aren’t you the one dating a mafia executive?you poor thing, what are you doing being with that monster?!” the stranger exclaims as they get closer to you

- akutagawa comes out of the store to see you angrily looking at the person in front of you, but in a fit of rage you didn’t see your partner

- if anything, he was more scared of you than he was of himself, you weren’t one to mess with when it came to the people you love so instead he waited patiently

- besides, he can’t anger himself too much as he promised the weretiger he wouldn’t kill anyone for six months, so he’ll let you handle it

- “how dare you talk about him like that, you call him a monster and yet he’s more human than you’ll ever be. he loves me and he’s made so much progress that your inhumane eyes will never see!” you yell at them, scaring them away

- as the stranger scurries off, ryū comes up to you, looking at you in a blank

- ��sometimes i hate people and their ignorant beliefs,” you sigh looking at your boyfriend

- “um i got you something,” he hands you a box, trying to divert you away from your anger

- “awe you really do love me,” you squeal in delight, “don’t push it,” aku says back

- he knows the things he’s done are awful but if he can make you happy or bring a smile to your face, he knows he hasn’t disappointed you and that’s all he needs to stop him from going crazy

[pinkpogiclub]

comprehensive list of my favorite cycling moments in no particular order

the Mont Ventoux incident: twelfth stage of the 2016 tour de france. Sir Chris Froome is comfortbaly leading both the stage and the GC, wearing the maillot jaune. Less than 1k to go and the unthinkable happens: too many people are standing on the road and one of the motorbikes at the front suddenly brakes, resulting in one insane shot of Richie Porte face-planting against the camera. The result? Both Bauke Mollema and Chris Froome crash (no injuries for them, luckily) and Chris Froome's bike BREAKS. PANIC. It's very important to note that at this point team cars are stuck behind and are unable to reach him (both because of the narrow street and the absolutely staggerig amount of people there). So what does Chris Froome do? He starts running marathon style, ready to defend his advantage on the other GC guys tooth and nail. In the end he did keep his lead (after a bike swap from hell and twenty minutes under an amount of stress that could have killed a horse) but BOY was it an Experience to watch live.

the tiny couch of Milano-Sanremo 2023: otheriwise known as the one bed trope cycling adaptation and, in my opinion, a mandatory addition to every post-race waiting room. Not a single person on this couch wanted to be there apart from pippo, who was doing a very bad job at hiding his amusement. Look at this, incredible.

Lorenzo Fortunato's win and Alberto Contador's consequent metal breakdown: overall an incredibly wholesome moment from the 2021 Giro D'Italia. Lorenzo Fortunato (then 25 years old, relatively new and upcoming rider) attacks on the Zoncolan, one of the most famous and gruelling climbs of the Giro: everybody’s rooting for the kid, who then goes on to win the stage all by himself, reaching the top through apocalyptic weather. Admirable, right? Well, while all this was unfolding, Alberto Contador (who was at the time Eolo-Kometa's team manager) was live on Insta pacing around and having an absolute Moment on camera, literally hyperventilating and crying, begging everything and everyone for his protegé to win. He then went on to promise to ride from Pinto (his hometown) to Milan as a celebration. Iconic.

Sepp Kuss' Vuelta victory: AKA the birth of a legend and of my personal GC Kuss agenda. Vuelta de España, 2023: domestique extraoirdinaire Sepp Kuss wins his first stage and he's VERY elated about it (as we all are, tbh), smiling and high-fiving people even before crossing the finish line. On the podium he truly becomes man of the people by chugging down half a bottle of champagne without batting an eye: man of the people right there. By this point no one is really thinking anything of it, we’re all just vibing, happy for a rider who is partecipating in his THIRD CONSECUTIVE Grand Tour of the year. But THEN. It slowly starts becoming clearer and clearer that Jumbo-Visma (rip) has not one, not two, but THREE (3) possible final GC contenders, which is alone a very bonkers concept. In the end Sepp manages to keep the lead despite what looks like a messy (?) situation management from Jumbo-Visma and a stage finish on Angliru where the Jumbo-Vismen seem to be riding all for themselves, sprinting away from Sepp. All in all a display of incredible strenght by both the team (winner of ALL three Grand Tours with THREE DIFFERENT riders. INSANE) and Sepp himself.

Last time trial stage of the 2020 Tour de France: I could easily write a PHD thesis about this day alone. NOTHING encapsulates the drama of sports quite like this particular moment. In one already very odd Tour de France, ridden in mid-September due to Covid restrictions, Primož Roglic absolutely DOMINATES the GC from the very beginning: his team is strong and he keeps the yellow jersey up until the end, to the point where nobody really expects anything major to happen. Cue Tadej Pogačar (called by the italian commentators "il ragazzino terribile" aka "the terrible boy"), fellow countryman of Primož: he’s won a couple of stages and he's shown his worth, finding himself in a very honorable second place in the GC with a 57'' gap from the leader. Which could mean nothing. SO. Here comes the final TT, the very last chance for riders to try and make up some time before Paris: Primož is an excellent TT rider and he's got enough time over Tadej, which should grant him a comfortable victory or, at least, not too much lost time, right? WRONG. OH BOY. Tragedy unfolds as soon as Tadej starts his race and makes it clear that he's out for BLOOD: he clearly doesn't care about second place, he wants the yellow!!!!!! And so we're stuck at home, watching silently as this KID slowly makes up time, second by painful second, all while Primož is having the mother of all shit days on the bike, struggling so much that it becomes harder and harder for him to maintain his hard-earned lead. Tadej goes on to win the stage (surpassing Tom Dumoulin and Wout van Aert, who had both ridden an incredible TT) and, more importantly, his fist Tour at just 21 years old. I still get chills thinking about it. Fun fact: in Paris, Tadej wil also wear both the white and the polka-dot jersey. Totally normal behaviour.

Giulio Ciccone and his close call with excommunication: Tirreno-Adriatico 2023. Giulio is giving out an interview to a fellow italian journalist after the stage, when suddenly one team car speeds up behind him and very narrowly misses him, almost clipping his bike in the process. The result is Giulio breathing life into the infamous "porca mado.....nza", which is a revised version of an extremely NASTY type of blasphemy against the virgin mary. Iconic in its own way, threatened to take down catholicism as a whole in one clean swoop. 10/10.

Geraint Thomas' leadout for Mark Cavendish: last stage of the 2023 Giro d'Italia, Geraint Thomas has made peace with the fact that he’s lost his chance at winning La maglia Rosa. The peloton is steadily approaching the finish line and sprinters are getting ready to give it all for the win: suddenly, we see Geraint Thomas putting himself right in front of the leading group, effectively becoming Mark Cavendish's leadout man, guiding him to a beautiful final win in Rome (mind you, this was supposed to be Mark's last year before retirement). They're not teammates, so Geraint Thomas had no reason to do it except for the fact that he's known Mark for the better part of twenty years and he wanted to help him: INSANE narratives, we all cried at the sight of the two old men embracing eachother like little kids. SIGH

2023 Road-Race World Championship. This place has everything: rainy weather, beautiful landscapes, highland cows, Mathieu van der Poel taking a dump in a newly renovated house, childhood rivals standing together on a podium, Pogi in neon green. Also known as the day Mathieu van der Poel went from Good Rider to Insane Supernatural Being: from attacking with 20k to go in what probably was the hardest course ever designed in a Road Race World Championship ever, falling down while all the team cars were unreachable, tearing off a piece of his own fucked up shoe because it was bothering him, to winning while sopping wet and crying. INSANE. Bonus: this absurd newspaper front page that I wish I had framed in my living room.

[caffinedragon]

He knows what happened, he just doesn't feel like anyone would care.

This is a little long but it has been bothering me after i have seen several posts on how Halsin didn't realize what happened to him in the Underdark.

I have a different opinion:

Have people ever considered that Halsin talks that way about his trauma because of how little he believes people would care, and not that he doesn't understand what happened to him?

Now, I am speaking from my own personal experience as someone who has faced a lot of trauma(Nothing sexual thankfully) and who has been put in a semi leadership adjacent position during or after experiencing it, and let me tell ya, you quickly learn how much of a one sided affair that is.

From a young age I ended up being the person everybody in my friend group came to for advice and help, something I had taken pride in. However, I wouldn't realize how lonely that was until I was in my early 20's when the first time I tried to reach out for a fraction of that help I gave out back I got a response along the lines of, "Your life is so much better than mine, what do you need help for?"

And do you know what that does to someone?

I will tell ya.

You shut the fuck down.

You feel like you don't have the right to reach out for help.

Your the strong one.

Your the one everybody needs to look up to.

Your the one everyone believes is unshakable.

You don't need help.

You can do this all on your own.

Sound Familiar?

I am not in the camp that he doesn't understand what happened to him.

It's been 200 years at least and he didn't live most of his life in a society with social rules, forced power dynamics and complex politics and gender norms.

He knows what happened to him was horrific and wrong.

He knows how nature works. He studies it.

I doubt he is ignorant of the fact that the mind and body can operate separately.

He wouldn't be able to control his wild shape otherwise.

He tells you how he feared for his life and wanted to escape.

He explains how he was biding his time in order to survive.

Ever hear of undercover agents getting too deep and forgetting they were undercover?

But, despite this, he has also been around people long enough to notice how people might perceive his story.

he has interacted with people long enough to know that not everyone would be understanding.

I firmly believe that he talks the way he does about his trauma because he knows how people not only react to his physical appearance, but how they view him as this wise and strong unbreakable leader.

He said it himself, "People who see someone my size don't think i can get hurt or have feelings."

He talks like that about it because he has been made to feel that no one would care if he actually broke down.

To be able to do that, you need to trust the other person not to judge you or blow you off.

It puts you in an incredibly vulnerable position.

A vulnerable position Halsin couldn't really afford to put himself in due to everything that happened after.

Unless you have been in that position, you have no idea how scary that is.

And the only way to change that, is to find someone or someones, that allow you to be weak in front of them without judgement.

Which, even in this day and age, is very hard to do.

I am lucky that i have my best friend of 30+ years who let me realize that i had someone i could be weak in front of.

Halsin doesn't have and i think has ever had someone to be weak in front of by the time of the start of the game.

I know how hard it was to let my walls down at 36.

I cant imagine how hard that would be at 350.

If he can at all.

tl;dr: Halsin knows what happened to him was awful and horrific. He just believes no one would care if he spoke about it seriously because "People believe someone my size cant get hurt or have feelings."

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Luck of the Draw

Day #8 - Prompt: Band Politics | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Jeff | Pairing: None | Tags: Making Decisions, Fussing and Fighting, Like Overgrown Children

Jeff passes out the poker chips, counting out a stack for each of them, to see how this goes. Because there's clearly no other way. They keep fighting about the stupidest shit, and if they're gonna make this tour work, they're gonna have to stop bickering over nonsense.

"Each chip is a unilateral decision, no pushback. Over and done," Jeff says, and pulls out the baggie full of paper slips covering all the dumb shit they've been arguing about. 

It's not any of the big decisions. Those things can't be decided like this. But the small shit? Absolutely. 

"Draw a slip of paper," Jeff says, "and if you care enough about what's on it, you spend one of your chips to make the decision between the options we've been discussing. No going rogue. These have to be decisions that make sense, logically, even if we all don't agree."

Everybody nods. They roll a die, to decide who will get to go first, and it's Eddie, which is no surprise. He's always had that kind of good luck behind a roll.

Eddie draws a piece of paper, and reads, "What to paint on the van."

Goodie and Gareth both groan, and Eddie squirms in his seat with delight, handing over one of his chips.

Eddie's had strong opinions about this, and it's pretty fucking lucky that this is what he drew. If Jeff hadn't set everything up himself, he'd definitely think Eddie had cheated somehow to rig the system. There's probably nothing else Eddie has fought harder for, so this is a best case scenario, because they won't have to listen to him bitch anymore.

"Picture it," Eddie says, hands waving, as if he's setting the scene, "Corroded Coffin. Naked pin-up lady-"

"Why on earth do you want a naked lady?" Goodie interrupts, the ongoing fight picking right back up.

Which is not allowed. The luck of the draw has spoken. Eddie gets to choose.

"It's ironic," Eddie says, as if that's obvious.

"It's not-" Goodie starts to snap, and Jeff has to nip this in the bud.

"No. Nope. Eddie gets to decide this one. Next!"

And Gareth grabs a slip of paper from the hat, reads it, and groans.

"What is it? Jeff asks.

"Getting to decide the standard setlist," Gareth answers.

"You want it?"

Gareth waffles, not wanting to give up his turn, clearly, but also probably not caring about the setlist. This has been a back-and-forth Jeff has had with Eddie, and Eddie alone. Gareth doesn't care what order they play songs, just that they play. 

"Pass," Gareth says, throwing the slip of paper back into the drawing pool.

Jeff shakes them again, and lets Goodie take his pick.

"Shotgun schedule," Goodie says with absolute glee, and Gareth throws his hands in the air.

"Well, that's fucking great!" Gareth snaps.

Jeff reaches over and squeezes Gareth's shoulder, "He gets to choose the schedule, he does not get it all the time. Right, Goodie?" Jeff prompts and Goodie grumbles, but nods. 

Gareth will still get screwed, Jeff's absolutely certain of that, but he will get his turn. Jeff will make sure of it. They aren't trying to piss each other off that bad, he hopes.

And then Jeff grabs one himself, "Tour routing."

Eddie starts to argue, because he has big thoughts about this, too. Eddie has big thoughts about everything, and he'd steamroll them all if they'd let him. 

They've been fighting about the route the next tour should take. Stay in the Midwest, or venture out further. Whether the van can handle that, even. This one is a big responsibility, and Jeff wants to take it on, so they don't end up on a wild goose chase of a tour.

"It's mine," Jeff says, forking over his chip.

And then they start all over, picking and choosing, until there's a stack of papers left, and Gareth is the only one with a chip left, because he skipped that first turn.

He keeps drawing and throwing them back, ending up redrawing things over and over again, and Jeff's not sure what he's looking for in there. They're never gonna finish this up at this rate.

"Gareth. It's just you. Open them and set them aside. Pick the one you want. It's fine. Just get on with it," Jeff says, trying to steer this in the right direction.

Gareth does, until he has a table full of open slips, looking over all the options leftover. Options they will still have to make decisions on, eventually, but not today. Jeff's hit his limit for the day, they all have, except Gareth apparently, as he wavers.

"For fuck's sake, pick one or I'm picking one for you!" Goodie shouts at him, and Gareth just ignores him.

"What do you want, kid? What are you looking for?" Eddie finally asks. 

"Room assignments," Gareth said, "did someone else get that?"

They all shake their heads.

"That wasn't even an option. Have we been fighting about that?" Jeff asks.

Gareth looks disappointed, "No. But I just didn't want to fight about it."

Jeff always assumed he'd stay with Goodie and Gareth would stay with Eddie. A given. But if Gareth wants to pick that, fine. Jeff scrawls it on a piece of paper and slides it over, "All yours."

Gareth looks thrilled, and Jeff starts to clean up the mess. This isn't over, not by a long shot, but at least they've made some progress. 

Eddie and Goodie are gone, out to grab a couple pizzas, and Jeff can't resist asking. "Why the room assignments?" 

Gareth looks up, "Because I don't want to fight with Goodie all day and then all night, too."

Oh. This is gonna be a bigger issue than he thought, probably. Nobody warns you that these things are the hardest parts about being in a band. 

The little squabbles, and slights, that snowball.

The resentments that build, and fester.

Jeff catches his eye, "I'll make sure that doesn't happen."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[colourstreakgryffin]

Nifty x applejack!reader headcanons

Hahaha! Lol! The contrast here is hilarious. You gotta hyper delicate clean-freak lady than rowdy southern gal that doesn’t care about being dirty! I like it! Hmmm… which means what is remaining is Angel and Twilight. A interesting contrast but maybe it works? I don’t know! But anyway, let’s try this out!

Niffty- Cinnamon Spice

Niffty… well. She is an entirely different creature and honestly, you are too. Which is why you two ended up befriending one another but that doesn’t mean your dynamic isn’t full of just a bit of drama and rules…

You’re a tough rootin-tootin’ fun cowgirl that doesn’t mind getting dirty and Niffty absolutely despises disorder and mess so she is regularly brushing you and dusting you and mopping you of your filth whilst asking if you can simmer it down

Niffty is basically like your Rarity. She gets soooo fussy over your cleanliness level and she does openly clean you off and she doesn’t mind expressing just how much she dislikes how disgusting you are but you always brush it off since it’s just you

Otherwise, you two actually do bond well. Surprisingly, you take care of her like a big sister and you’re a protective strong figure so you won’t let anybody talk shit to the already ‘no-nonsense’ maid and cook of the Hotel

Niffty, you can’t really tell how she feels about anything but she does tell you her thoughts and/or opinions, whilst she is either cleaning you or cooking with the food supplies you carried over so effortlessly in a heavy big crate. She tells you about the ‘bad boys’ she likes and appreciates how you listen to her then give her advice back

Niffty is all about the rules so you can’t really interact with her much but the times you do. She is quite skittering and heads to you and talks to you. She’s getting better with her socialising skills and you merely listen to her

You’re the big sister of the Hotel, honest and hard-working and fearless and caring so you do mesh well with this tiny cyclopian woman who doesn’t really express herself much, helping her whilst she helps you, even if subtly

Niffty does like to ask you to help with her duties and since you’re so selfless yet so determined, you take up as much tasks for her as you can to help around, whilst you’re not a employee… yet of the Hotel, Charlie does consider you like a volunteer, for how much you help despite the fact you don’t get paid for it

Even if Niffty can annoy you with how much she nags and insists you take baths after such a long day of harvesting apples and caring for your family at your home barn, you do consider her a close friend and you don’t want anything happening to her so you definitely join Angel and Cherri’s night drinking to watch Niffty

Niffty kinda likes this southern cowgirl style you got, she thinks it’s cool and she makes a silly little dare where you two trade styles for a day at times. You… you feel weird in a pretty frilly maid dress whilst Niffty struts her stuff as a cowgirl and plays with the precious hat you let her have. It’s cute

Niffty has grown use to baking apple pies since apples is your favourite food and you do enjoy apple pies. She knows the exact recipe you like and sometimes, she’ll just bake one for the fun of it. She knows you won’t say no, she knows how much you love apples. It’s your thing

Niffty just found a odd but pretty orangish-red apple-shaped gemstone in the mess of the Hotel when sweeping one day and she decided to give it to you since nobody else could need it… and she is flattered when she sees how you’ve turned it into a part of your snazzy cowgirl aesthetic

Niffty does consider you a good friend. Yeah, you don’t or can’t talk to her a lot but when you do. She does open up to you, you’re a good ear and you’re quite loyal so you don’t even judge her. She is glad she can show off her knife collection to somebody else than her father figure, Alastor

She sometimes wonder if you even have emotions. Everybody else will be openly upset over a tragedy and you’re just silent… she doesn’t know that you’re crying on the inside

“Ah. Dirty. Dirty. Hey. You need to stop rolling around in mud. You’re ruining my carpet! Ah! Stop! Stop! I’ll get you a apple pie, just go outside and wash off”

[mlmxreader]

Tell Me One Thing | Holland March x gn!reader

anonymous asked: hello hello i hope you’re doing as well as you can :) i was wondering if i could request some holland march x gn!reader with the prompts: “hey, hey, look at me c’mon” and “for what it’s worth, i’m proud of you”. where basically holland’s on a case and someone recognises him as the reader’s boyfriend but they have some very strong opinions about them being together and say kinda nasty things. he gets home before the reader and the latter finds him curled in upon himself like overthinking and stuff and comforts him. thank you! :)

summary: March has a habit of letting certain things get under his skin a bit too much, but thankfully, his partner comforts him when he needs it.

tws: swearing, alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of injury, mentions of alcoholism

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

It seemed like a normal enough day.

Healy was chatting to people in the busy street while Holland waited by the car and smoked; they were just looking for some old lady's lost dog, but money was money, and private investigators like Healy and March couldn't afford to turn down a job.

Holland did think, though, that he might be able to escape to the nearest payphone and call you; Holly was at school - hopefully - by now, which meant that the chances were, you were at home for a little while before your shift started.

He debated it, and when he saw that Healy was still chatting, he made his mind up; his bandaged fingers thumbled with the numbers, but he got there in the end and lit another cigarette.

But as it was ringing, someone knocked on the booth. Figuring that they probably just wanted to use it, he opened the door, and clenched his jaw.

"Can't you fucking see it's in use?"

The stranger looked him up and down for a moment. "Aren't you dating the person that used to live on Foxtrot Street?"

Holland quirked a brow. "Y/N?"

"Yeah," they nodded. "You're the new boyfriend, right?"

Holland shrugged as he scoffed. "The fuck do you wanna know for? Go on, get lost, pal."

The stranger didn't budge, folding their arms across their chest. "Y'know, I think it's absolutely sickening. A nice person like that, with scum like you - it's a surprise they haven't crawled into the bottom of a bottle, as well."

He rolled his eyes, attempting to close the door on them, but they put their hand on the frame. "Just fucking let me make a call."

"Please," they huffed. "Leave them alone. They deserve better than some P.I who drinks too much to even care about his own kid. You're gonna fuck them over, just like you fuck everybody else over. Leave them alone."

They only backed off once Healy approached, and although he wanted to talk about it, Holland couldn't find the energy to do so; he got in the car, hardly spoke but swigged from his flask like there was no tomorrow.

When Healy dropped him off, Holland had only one thing in mind: bed.

He flopped down onto the soft mattress, face buried against the pillows as he closed his eyes; maybe they were right. They did have a point, but he had been working on his drinking. But he was also useless - he fell off of several balconies that day, all on the ground floor at least unlike last time.

Maybe he would fuck you over. He didn't want to, but maybe he would. He spent what felt like eternity laid there, but eventually moved onto his side, cuddling into a pillow as he brought his knees to his chest, staring out at nothing.

He hoped Holly wouldn't be home any time soon, she didn't need to see her father worrying so badly about something that a stranger had said.

But Holly didn't come home first.

Holland knew it wasn't her when he heard the door lock from the inside, a muttering voice listing out all the chores to do throughout the house; familiar footprints slowly approaching along with the scent of his cologne, like the wearer had stolen one of his shirts.

He usually smiled, but not today. He just sighed and cuddled into the pillow even more.

"Hey, baby," you hummed, not thinking much at first as you shrugged your jacket off and hung it up on the corner of the wardrobe. Sweat trickling down your back and clinging to your forehead. "How was your day?"

Holland grumbled. "Why are you still here?"

You furrowed your brows as you turned around, shoving your hands into your pockets. "What do you mean?"

"I'm just gonna fuck you up," he sighed. "I fuck everything up and you… deserve better."

"Oh, Holland," you sighed, squatting down so that your eyes were on the same level as his. "Holland, Holland, Holland… you're not gonna fuck me up. I mean, you do give me really bad fright every time you go out, but that's because I know you - I know you're not exactly great with balconies."

Holland sighed.

But you wouldn't relent. "Hey, hey, look at me, c'mon… atta boy. Listen to me, baby - do you really think I'd leave?"

He shrugged. "You should."

"I'm not going to," you said softly. "No one, and I mean no one, has made me laugh as much as you can. You think I'd give all that up?"

"I make you laugh?"

"Yes," you leaned forward, gently kissing his forehead. "And that means everything to me, you know that… you wanna tell me what happened?"

"Someone approached me while we were working," he said quietly. "Said some pretty shitty things."

"And you let them get under your skin," you hummed, nodding. "Y'know, this is only like the window incident."

Usually, he smiled at the reminder.

When he had been playfully bickering with you at a party and he had thought that a window was shut, only to lean back and fall right through it, landing on a buffet table crowded by people.You laughed the entire way to the hospital, and he had never heard something so wonderful.

But he had allowed one of the doctors comments about you to get under his skin, just as he had now.

"Y'know, for what it's worth, I'm proud of you," you told him. "I really am."

Slowly, Holland dared to sit upright, spreading his legs so that you were between them, looking up at him with your head leaning on his thigh, a small smile on your lips. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you confirmed, gently pushing him back until his back hit the mattress, straddling his waist. "You gonna let go of the pillow?"

He threw it, and ignored whatever went crashing down with it as he eagerly gripped at your sides. "Better?"

"Much," you nodded. laughing loudly when he moved to pin you onto your back beneath him, your wrists in his hands as he pinned them above your head. "Don't start something that you can't finish, mind, March."

"I can finish it," he murmured. "Just… tell me one thing."

"Anything."

"Tell me you love me."

[thisisallthehattersfault]

I tend to forget about Hua Cheng’s crippling self-image issues because Xie Lian is dehydrated over the man and it shows, but

Queerplatonic Xianle Quartet where HC is mostly fine around Xie Lian with his real face -- Gege loves him and loves the way he looks and sometimes remembering that is harder than others but he’s working on it and his god is always there to remind him when he stumbles -- and like, Xie Lian’s opinion is literally the only opinion that matters, so fuck everybody else. Gege likes his face. You can all deal.

Only then without him even realizing it had happened, suddenly Mu Qing and Feng Xin’s opinions do matter and he still hasn’t realized that he’s started to actually care about those idiots but he has noticed that he’s deeply uncomfortable wearing his real face around them recently. All those Oh My God I’m A Hideous Monster thoughts come bubbling to the surface and he can’t stand that he’s been walking around with his actual face out around those two this whole time.

Obviously Hua Cheng starts shifting around the two of them more and more often (It doesn’t have anything to do with them he just likes shifting shut up) and then he runs into a whole brand new wave of weirdness, because he’s used to making his forms look dangerous, seductive, dripping with sex appeal. Only, he doesn’t want Feng Xin or Mu Qing to think he’s fuckable? He doesn’t want to bang them, and he knows they don’t want to bang him. What he wants is for them to think he looks... nice? Dependable? Like he’d give good hugs?

Suddenly Hua Cheng is experimenting with forms that have kind eyes and friendly, open faces and layers of softness over muscles like iron, and Mu Qing and Feng Xin (who also Definitely Do Not Like Him And Don’t Care About Him What Are You Implying Shut Up) are suddenly having the absolutely fucking bizarre experience of wanting to snuggle Crimson Rain Sought Flower.

Feng Xin has an absolutely awful day and walks into a room to see Hua Cheng’s newest version of a papa bear form, big and broad and soft and strong, and he genuinely has an out-of-body experience over how badly he wants to just. Kind of burrow against his chest and stay there until everything is softer and smaller and quieter and farther away.

Mu Qing sees Xie Lian and Hua Cheng snuggling -- Hua Cheng’s newest form is this tiny, curvy, busty lady with a round face and big dark eyes and soft soft hands, perfect for squishing and squeezing and holding like a stuffed animal -- and he just seethes with jealousy watching Xie Lian sink his fingers into her soft soft skin and nuzzle into her soft soft shoulder. He has the thought of I bet she’d be so nice to cuddle and then he has to walk away because fucking What??

Of course this all eventually culminates in something happening and Feng Xin and Mu Qing get their shit rocked and Hua Cheng shows up in his true form to help them out, at which point we somehow get the reveal that they already associate his actual face with support and security and comfort because they know he has their back and he does not need to squeeze himself into different shapes to appeal to them. We like you for you, idiot. Yeah, really. We were shocked too.

Xie Lian through all of this is living his best life getting to squeeze and squish and cuddle with all of San Lang’s new forms and also getting to fuck them because unlike FengQing Xie Lian is sexually attracted to Hua Cheng and damn if these new bodies aren’t extremely excellent to play with. His favorite is still true form though. He’s a sucker for the classics.

Anyway tl;dr touch starved emotionally repressed idiots discover they have a nonsexual crush on their childhood best friend’s husband, said husband does the nonsexual equivalent of walking around in just a bikini, in the end everybody cuddles about it.

[anitalianfrie]

Oh! Absolutely 20 for rosquez!

things you said i wasn't meant to hear - rosquez

this was difficult to write. like. really difficult. i fear it might suck. alas, it's all i produced.

Marc slowly walks through the corridor. The walls are rough, painted of a faded yellow, and the rigs and bumps push against the skin of his knuckles while he drags his hand against one of them.  

For some reason, they remind him of home. 

He’s not used to being here. He feels like an outsider- no, like a stranger, in between the sturdy walls of the ranch, old and stained. He can feel it, in his bones and in the air: it’s not his place to be in. It’s Valentino’s. But Vale told him, mouth sweet of promises and sticky with kisses, with his strong accent and his esses that he hisses like a snake, mi casa es su casa, and Marc, mouth stretched large in a laugh, believed him. 

He can sense it in the air, in its staleness, the bitter taste of distrust. Of quiet wariness. They leave a bad taste in his mouth. He can feel it in the polite words of Bagnaia and Bezzecchi, he can hear it when Vale doesn’t let him go get the bread from the baker and sends one of the boys instead. 

He can’t do much about it, and maybe that’s what’s worse. How he didn’t care about these people’s opinions up until he arrived there, and understood how much they meant to Vale. How much he wanted them to accept him.  

He finds himself missing Alex, when he thinks too much about it. 

His hand meets the end of the wall. His small moment for himself is over. The door in front of him is slightly opened, just enough for him to be able to see in the room. He can see the back of someone’s head, a mop of curly hair, too light to be anyone else’s. Vale is there.  

He reached down, to the handle, to push the door open, when a voice from inside the room stops him. 

“You should talk to him.” it’s Luca. He sounds– he sounds serious. It’s a tone Marc has rarely heard him use, in the week he’s been here. 

“I know.” 

Marc knows he shouldn’t stay there, the knowledge of being impolite drilled into his head by his mother from a young age, when she had found him hiding behind the kitchen door, eavesdropping. Still, something inside tells him: this is about you. You should listen.  

He’s too weak not to. 

He’s too weak not to worry. Who else should Vale talk to? The thing that stetches between them, thin like the thread of a cobweb, dangling in the air, is fragile and new. Marc knows it, and Vale knows it too. It’s there, and day by day they are putting down bricks, layers to build up on. But as of now, a too strong breeze might end up ripping it apart. Marc doesn’t have the certainty it will happen, but he also doesn’t want to try. 

“It’s just–” Valentino continues, “I can’t help but feel that this happening is my fault. That him feeling like this, is my fault.” 

Marc can hear Luca sighing from the other side of the door. 

“Listen. I’m not going to say that it’s completely not your fault, because we both know that it’s not the case. But keeping thinking about it– it will do you no good. Talk to Marc. Ask him how he feels, instead of doing your thing where you assume what everybody’s feeling without talking.” 

A moment of silence. 

Marc pushes with his knuckles against the wood of the door. It creaks on its old, consumed hinges while it opens slightly. There are three doors that do it at the ranch, and Marc has memorised them all.  

“Hey” he says, while entering the room, as if he wasn’t hiding up until one second before (as if he wasn’t a liar), and Vale turns his head and greats him with a smile. He reaches out with a hand and grabs him by the waist, pulling him closer, laying his head against Marc’s ribs.  

Luca gets up from his chair. “I’ll leave you two to it.” he says, before closing the door behind him.  

Valentino drags Marc down on the couch, until they’re laying on top of each other, chests pressed together. Marc can feel Vale’s hand on the back of his head, playing with his hair, while he brings their faces closer to kiss, and kiss, and kiss. 

Under his hand, Marc can feel Vale’s heart beating. 

Tu-tum tu-tum tu-tum, strong and fast like the sound of the hooves of a horse on the ground. 

Valentino doesn’t say anything. 

Neither does Marc. 

send me a pairing and one of these and i’ll write a mini fic

[letterlitter]

Like fawns to the huntsmen

Lestappen

•Max needs to be careful, his relationship with Charles cannot get out.

•Tags: angst maybe??, a tiny bit of fluff

•word count: about 800

"Max? Max? Come back to earth please."

Max blinked himself to consciousness as the reporter-filled room burst into laughter from his zoning out. The question as far as Max could remember was about Ferrari so he tried to whip up an answer, "I think Ferrari is in a good place at the moment and we will have to see if they could keep it up. Charles and Carlos are old friends and it would be fun to race against them and see them eat a little bit more of the dust I have to blow."

Another wave of laughter filled the air and marked the end of the press conference for Max. Even with hating to be interviewed, he had been somewhat prepared for this. The reporters had been asking him questions about Charles over and over again in different ways and different context just to see how he would respond. Just to catch him off guard and make his tongue slip a secret or an unexpected opinion they could use to make them both look bad.

Formula one is a male dominated sport, most of whom are homophobic and racist and definitely not open to new things; so if Max's secret would be out, it would only be a matter of time until they both received countless death threats and even more hate messages telling them they will go to hell.

That was the last thing either of them wanted now that they were both at the peak of their careers. So they decided to hide what they have and tell everyone they're just good friends.

Charles was okay with this. He was good at hiding strong feelings of his, having been through so much in his life and continuing to do so. He could feel satisfied for the day with recieving small glances and smiles and Max's hand being wrapped around his waist to take a picture when they were both on the podium. It was the best he could ask for.

Max on the other hand was different. He liked to show people what he has done and what boy he has pulled. He liked people to know that they will go to the same hotel room after to celebrate their wins; to have their own little private party making everybody else in the world jealous of not knowing what will happen behind closed doors.

But not everything could go as the three times F1 world champion would want. Money could buy a lot, but not everything. This was one of them.

It was way too risky. Reporters would constantly ask him "how's Charles?" Or "any thought about Leclerc today?" Like they knew everything about what was going on between them. All the F1 ads and merch would put their pictures next to eachother on purpose. The camera flashes, like loaded guns, would go crazy everytime they even looked into each other's eyes.

Charles always thought if anyone would care enough to look closer, they would find out about them. He would nudge Max on the shoulder and whisper "don't be so obvious" when he kept staring at Charles's lips while waiting for his own post race interview.

Charles liked their dirty little secret. He liked it that no one could dare make their choices for them and they could keep denying it if anybody asked. Nice and easy and private.

Max loved Charles with every single vein in his body. He loved him so much he could barely breathe. He loved him so much his bones would ache. Charles was the only good thing Max still had from his childhood.

Charles's feeling had formed pretty early on. Ever since he didn't know what to call them. He just liked Max; he liked to tease him and make him mad by ignoring his concerns about the race. They were kids after all, who would care that much about a silly little karting mistake?

Charles liked to be around Max and it took him a while to realize why.

They kept eachother grounded, calm. They kept the noise down for eachother when things got way too overwhelming. They were each other's little miracle.

But things were sometimes harder as they were easy. Ferrari wasn't always the best team and Jos was never the best dad. Them going to eachother and having short meetings behind the garages would sometimes become unbearable. Why couldn't Max just kiss Charles right on that podium? Why would it make a scene if Charles hugged Max tight when he was down?

The sport reporters and photographers were everywhere. Any "wrong" move would make it right to the front page of every magazine and website, ruining their careers for the most part.

and there was nothing anyone could do. Only if they had been braver, only if they'd been less greedy. Only if the world wasn't so cruel...

[siderealmaven]

How To Spot The Zodiac Signs

Originally published on @siderealmaven's Patreon.

♈️ Aries

Dedicates a lot of time and energy towards learning new skills so they can do everything themselves.

Would rather be completely on their own than told how they should live their life.

Treats their one previous life like a DIY project; covers it in stickers and glitter.

♉️ Taurus

Their house looks like a perfectly curated Pinterest board (P.S. You’re invited to their dinner party!)

They have advantageous social connections that come in handy at just the right time.

Always caught up on the latest trends, styles, and fashion (and always makes it look good.)

♊️ Gemini

They’re the first to approach newcomers and let them in on all the hot gossip.

They seem to know everything about everybody and if they don’t, they will find out.

Has a journal, a blog, a vlog, and a computer full of unfinished manuscripts that may never see the light of day.

♋️ Cancer

They ask how you’re doing and genuinely care about your answer.

They don’t want to go out but you can come hang at their place if you want.

Prefers to have a tight knit group of friends that feel and treat each other like family.

♌️ Leo

They walk into the room with their own personal entourage.

Their hair care routine costs more than their monthly rent.

They’re loud and proud about what and who they love, no matter what anyone else thinks.

♍️ Virgo

They plan their wardrobe around monochrome or earthy colors.

They have a slight obsession with stationary, pens, highlighters and other office supplies.

They’re the first person to offer help to other people and the last to accept it.

♎️ Libra

They spend more time socializing & community building than they do at home.

Has strong opinions but is only willing to debate them with a capable partner.

Knows exactly how to bend the rules in order to get what they want (and get away with it.)

♏️ Scorpio

They come off stoic and reserved at first, but really they’re trying to protect their marshmallow heart.

You always end up having deep, intimate conversations that change your life.

They occasionally disappear off the face of the earth and then come back like it never happened.

♐️ Sagittarius

They tell you their life story like it’s the plot of an exciting but profound movie.

They’re always trying to have new experiences and their bucket list is a mile long.

Most likely to obsessively devote themselves to a specific vocation, spiritual calling or philosophy.

♑️ Capricorn

Leads with a dry sense of humor that makes the mundane seem hilarious.

They’re the first to help you put your plans into action & give realistic advice.

Seems much older than they actually are, but is still a child at heart.

♒️ Aquarius

They have vast knowledge in obscure topics most people have never heard of.

Refuses to conform to society’s expectations and enjoys breaking traditions.

Highly innovative and imaginative, always looking for new ways to progress.

♓️ Pisces

They have tried every artistic medium under the sun and refuse to restrict themselves.

They just seem to know things they have no business knowing (and probably smug about it.)

Their deep sensitivity can overwhelm them sometimes, but keep their heart open anyway.

Thanks for reading! Have a lovely day and stay safe out there. <3

[gingerylangylang1979]

Sydney Adamu, Love, and Black Women’s Opinons

No matter how The Bear handles Sydney’s love life or lack of one, people are going to be pissed. The truth is she can’t live up to everyone’s expectations as a black woman character. Is that even possible? Is too much social weight being put on how her personal life is portrayed? 

I’m a black woman. I get that we are the most vilified demographic in the media and in fandom. A lot of battles have been won, but there is still a way to go. But does that mean every black woman character has to redeem all the sins of the past in every story? Can storytelling ever be truly just storytelling if a black woman is involved or are there certain social criteria and personal expectations that need to be met? 

As a huge Sydney fan it’s been interesting to see all of the different discourses about who she is, what she means to people, what she represents culturally. Some of it good, some of it bad, but all thought provoking, especially when voiced by black women. 

I recall debates back in the day about how black characters should be represented. From the beginnings of cinema black characters were at the whims of a system not made for them. Black women in particular were mostly tropes and rarely complex, vulnerable, desirable characters. 

Times have changed somewhat but there are still challenges facing black actresses. There is still rampant colorism, nepotism, classism, unconscious bias, egregious racism, misogynoir, navigating the streaming landscape, and just trying to exist like we always have. My question is in this environment what should we expect from Sydney Adamu as black women. 

Expectations about her love life kind of spell out all of the varying opinions. And each one carries a certain weight, whether the opinion holder means to or not. 

I’ve noticed it doesn’t matter what view you have, you will be accused of being racist and misogynist. So what is really going on?

Is there a way to win as a creator in this scenario? How much of a story needs to solely rest on vision and how much should answer to social justice concerns? Even if you try, who are you trying to please and how? Is there even a “right” way? 

Black women aren’t a monolith. Some think it’s racist to want her with a white man, others think it’s racist to think she should only be considered with a black one. Some think she should be queer and want the representation. Others think it would just add to the history of black women being masculinized and made queer to erase them as love interests. Some want her to be single because she is a highly ambitious professional. Others think that sidelines her as a strong black woman that doesn’t need a man. Some welcome a new character so the romantic focus doesn’t have to be on her. Others see the new character as a threat purposely brought in to marginalize her. 

So what is the truth? I think there is no real truth to be had other than whatever the hell plays out and if it makes sense. But many things could make sense for Sydney. I know what I want and think makes sense but it could go several ways and still be enjoyable. Others are way more militant and bringing a lot of non-negotiables to the end game. 

So if we can’t even decide as black women how Sydney's love life should be portrayed, how the hell do we expect fandom, the cast, and crew to have conclusions that are “right” according to our perceptions when our perceptions don’t even align as a demographic and most are valid in light of any person’s lived experience, political views, idea of a good story, and interpretation of media? 

I’m going to delve into the should she be with Carmy debate briefly, just to highlight what I’m getting at. 

What about Ayo’s opinion? She voiced not wanting a romance with Carmy but it seems everybody but her has been questioned in an accusatory way regarding that stance. She may be the only black woman afforded that. Rightfully so, it’s her character. She made some vague statements contradicting that later, maybe she still says no, is neutral, or maybe she is open to it. Maybe she likes what we have already seen and where it’s going and isn’t putting all of these heavy implications on the character like we are. 

And as far as Storer, he knows who he wants this character to be or at least had a blueprint. The endgame could change but I have a feeling he largely modeled her on his sister, who is queer BTW. Maybe Sydney could have been played by a white character. He didn’t do that because he seemed to want Ayo in the role when final decisions were made. We do know the character was older and seemed more stoic in the OG script. But other than that we don’t know a lot about intention. How much the differences between Courtney and the character are impacted or not by race, organic story development, Ayo’s performance, and dynamics with individual characters we won’t know. But a lot of assumptions are being made. 

As far as Jeremy’s opinion. He’s been pretty consistent with saying he thinks it should remain platonic. I don’t think that says much beyond he’s looking at his character season by season, scene by scene, and concluding he doesn’t think Carmy is good for her and isn’t thinking about romance. That’s all he’s said. I’m taking it as just that for now. He could change his opinion if dynamics change or not. But a lot of assumptions are being made. 

But back to black women fans. 

The main reason I wrote this is because it’s getting really tiring when I see people trying to police black women’s opinions. It’s really, really interesting when an opinion someone doesn’t like is voiced online and when it’s a black woman they have this shocked oh, so I wonder why they said that response, or oh she must have internalized hate or something. As if liking a different ship, or no ship at all, turns one into Candace Owens. I see this coming from black women towards black women and non-black women towards black women and it needs to stop. 

Me and another black woman who share opposite opinions were recently harassed and called racist simply for not agreeing with others. We both agreed it was ridiculous. The irony of calling black women racist, just because they don’t agree with you, when discussing black women characters is mind boggling. 

We can have various opinions and they may not agree with yours no matter what race you are and if you are indeed racist, an ally, or anything in between. Stop labeling us, stop harassing us, stop thinking we have to have the exact same vision for black women characters. 

I’m open for respectful discussion on this but will not waste my time with bad faith replies. 

[thekingofwinterblog]

Do you think that, ezpecially with the Spinner chapter, MHA will actually go somewhere with Dekus failure to save Shigaraki?

Dont get me wrong, I wish it would, but to me it didnt seem like he failed something in universe but more that out universe it was decided that keeping Shigaraki alive would be too much of a hassle.

My fear is, that things like the scar on the freckles aren't signs that Hori will commit to this bitter sweet moment that will lead to some larger point, but that it is just a way to pacify people who found it weird: "See, Deku lost his innocence, he failed! Anyways, now look at all the cute and wacky next gen babys!"

Just spitballing and curious for a second opinion

Ultimately, Izuku's final lesson from his fight against All For One, was that he could not save everyone.

However, from a thematic point, it's just the other coin of one of the very first messages he learned in this series, and one which All Might tried to teach him through the series.

In the very first chapter of the series, Izuku comes to terms with the brutal reality that at the end of the day, he did not directly save Bakugo's life.

Despite his best intentions, Izuku could not save Bakugo.

The overall message of that first chapter, is not that Izuku was a failure because he could not do it, but that what made him different than anyone else there, is that he tried to save a person in need, in spite of all odds or dangers.

It's something that's hammered in again during the entrance exam, and highlighted again and again through the series, of it's characters "Bodies moving withouth them thinking" to save someone.

The other side of the coin however, is that MHA is not One Piece, where characters will survive, and damn every single thematic point or character moment that is wrecked because of it.

People die in this series, because MHA is a story about Heroes trying, succeding, and failing to save people.

When Questioned about it, All Might bluntly tells Izuku that he is not omnipotent. He cant save everyone, and the only thing he can do is keep on smiling and continuing his duty.

The obvious implication here, and the one that All Might is telling Izuku(with Shigaraki in the background no less) is that He too, cannot save everyone. He is not omnipotent. He will fail at some point, and in the end, the only thing he can do is keep on smiling and continuing onwards.

He is not a moral failure because he could not do, no more than All Might is. He is a good person because he tried, regardless of outcome.

Izuku sorta learned this lesson during his internship with Nighteye's death, but unlike that time, during the final battle, he was at the height of his power, maybe not as strong as he could possibly have become, but in the end as strong as he ever got.

And yet he failed to save Shigaraki, just as he failed to save Nighteye. just as he failed to save Bakugo.

Only now, at the very end, does Izuku finally have to come to the terms with All Might's words, that no matter what, he will fail to save people. it doesnt matter how strong or experienced he became. People will die.

That doesnt make him a failure, as the important point is that he tries, and gives it all he has, but it is a harsh lesson he has to learn if he wishes to continue on this road of his.

Basically this moment from One Piece chapter 166.

It's kinda hilarious how well Oda understood and nailed this point in early one piece, given how One Piece itself would go on to mangle it beyond belief, but The great thesis of MHA is basically this, only instead of chickening out of the ultimate point, it went through with it by killing off almost all of it's villains during the final battle, rather going for a sappy, everybody lives and people were redeemed ending.

That's not how war works.

when people fight, People die. in battle, people will always die, regardless of how good you do or how much you wish otherwise.

Thinking you can avoid this truth is naive.

Ultimately, Izuku saved the world. However long his powers remain afterwards, or how short his actual professional hero career lasts, he is the world's greatest hero. He saved millions of lives. The fact that he could not save Tomura as well does not change that.

He cant save everyone. No matter how hard he tries.

He tried as hard as he could, and he failed. But that doesnt mean he was wrong to try to begin with. just that he needs to understand that he wont always suceed.