#let’s all allow ourselves to be ourselves

[brianmcnett-blog]

I'll admit to being something of a RF cultist. Something something microwave-frequency circuit design. It was a while ago, but the fundamentals haven't changed. I'm going to back up the electrical engineer with some physics background because holy shit this magic is even blacker than they're letting on.

The dark gods of time and frequency domain reflectometry are somewhat lax in the enforcement of their laws at the lower ends of their realms (and it is within this laxity which our technology mostly functions), but as you put more energy into a signal (and therefore at higher frequencies), they become very harsh and strict in their demands. They require more exacting sigils and more intricate incantations. Because yes, beyond a certain point "Everything becomes an antenna." This story we tell ourselves is that this is due to quantum mechanics, which is not normally taught to engineers (See: "forbidden magics that can drive the most steady man to the horrible comforts of oblivion found at the bottom of a bottle"). Indeed even quantum physicists use shorthand notation, rather than the actual incantations of the "mathematical physicists" because the shorthand is easier on the mind. Typically the mathematicians don't allow the physicists entry into their dark domain, but the mathematical physicists are dedicated to providing "mathematical rigor" to the foundations of physics, and mathematicians respect that. In their training, quantum physicists are told that all the equations governing these things are strictly linear (because non-linearity introduces infinities one should not contemplate), and any complex values (involving imaginary numbers) must cancel out of the results (so that all observed values are real values). But the truth is the dark gods do not care if things spiral off into infinity or distances contain imaginary components. Those are just things we ignore on our end of the deal in order to remain sane.

And flat out, there is a disconnect between quantum mechanics (how small things operate at extremes) and relativity (how large things operate at extremes). We have two models when we should have one, and the small model does not contain time. Mathematically it relies upon Hilbert spaces (See: "forbidden magics that can drive the most steady man to the horrible comforts of oblivion found at the bottom of a bottle"), which is inconsistent with the time-domain. So when we petition the dark gods, they respond that we've not formatted our petition correctly, and although they do not punish us for our hubris, they deny our petitions. Our understanding perishes, but engineers aren't provided the tools to draft petitions to the deities at this level. I can't tell you why only the Kakashi bookmark worked to restore the circuit to its normal function. It is buried within the intricacies of stray capacitance ("Everything is an antenna." Therefore everything contains a resonant circuit).

Anything more involved than this quickly spirals off into spectral theory, rigged Hilbert spaces, and other functional analysis mere mortal minds like my own aren't meant to contemplate. There are things within physics which are still not rigorously defined mathematically, and it's best not to think too deeply upon the forbidden magics.

they used to make smackable technology. you used to be able to hit your tv when it didn't work good.

[hoernypie]

tags: established relationship, having a child, breastfeeding k!nk

You were lying in your bed when the sound of a creaking door woke you up. Slowly you opened your eyes as the smell of hot black tea filled the air. "Good afternoon, grumpy princess," Suguru said while placing a cup of tea on the nightstand table. "Come on, it's almost 3 pm. You can't sleep for the whole day, y'know?" Suguru sat beside your side, stroking your hair. You huffed while rubbing your eyes open, "Our peanut is with Uncle Satoru, so we have some time to ourselves," he said before helping you to get up. "Suguru…" you whined as he pulled you out of the warm silk sheets.

Groaning slightly, you allowed Suguru to lead you to the bathroom. The warm glow of the afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a comforting light across the cold tiles. He turned on the faucet and the sound of running water filled the room. "Let's get you freshened up," he suggested, handing you a soft, plush robe. Despite your initial protest, the warmth of the robe was too tempting to resist, and you slipped into it, letting the fabric envelop you like a gentle hug. Suguru waited patiently outside, his footsteps echoing in the hallway as he paced, sipping his own tea. Inside, you splashed cold water on your face, the shock jolting you into full wakefulness. As you dabbed your face with a towel, you heard the muffled sound of laughter, likely from Suguru looking at the photos that Satoru sent. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you felt a renewed sense of energy. After a quick bathroom break, you stepped out, before getting back into the bed.

"You look beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with admiration. Then, he tilted your chin up slightly, bringing your face even closer to his. Suguru's gaze filled with desire. "I look all swollen," you hummed, taking his hand and placing it on your breast, "They hurt so much, it's exhausting." Suguru left a delicate peck on your lips, "I know they hurt, but they also look very full," he said, his voice lowered into a huskier tone. "Is it uncomfortable?" he gently squeezed your breast before his thumb grazed over your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt. He noticed his touch making you shiver, and he couldn't but smirk at your reaction. "Or is it more pleasurable than painful?" he asked amused. His hands slowly roamed over your body, his touch gentle as his fingers traced patterns over your curves. He leaned in to kiss your neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses down to your shoulder. "You're so responsive to my touch, princess. It makes me want to touch you even more," he said softly, his hands moving under your shirt and gently squeezing your breast. You winced from the dull pain that filled your body. Suguru quickly noticed your expression of pain when your eyebrows furrowed, his touch becoming more gentle. "I'm sorry, love. Was that too much?" he asked, concern in his voice. "They're so sore… It's annoying," you huffed "They feel hard." He nodded in understanding, continuing to gently massage your breasts. "I can imagine. It must be uncomfortable," he said sympathetically, his touch soothing and light. "They are always so full and ready for our Peanut," he said, his hand caressing your swollen flesh. He leaned in to place a kiss on your shoulder, his warm lips lingering on your soft skin. "You made a huge sacrifice for our baby," he whispered, his words filled with admiration. You hissed from pain when he squeezed the hurting nipple. He quickly releases your nipple when he hears your hiss, his hand moving away. He watched at the damp spot on your shirt, "You're leaking," he chuckled softly. He gently pulled up your shirt, looking at the hardened nipples being wet. "Can I… Can I taste it?" he asked, his tone slightly hesitant. "So lewd," you clicked your tongue while rolling your eyes. Suguru couldn't help but chuckle at your comment, his eyes focused on your nipples. "Only because of you."

Without waiting for a response, he took one of your sore nipples into his mouth, suckling it gently. You let out a soft gasp, feeling a mix of pain and pleasure as he began to nurse at your sensitive breast. His tongue swirled around the tip, teasing the tender peak, and his teeth grazed against the taut skin. He applied just enough pressure to keep the sensation from crossing into discomfort, his movements deliberate and attentive to your reactions. Your breaths grew shallower, your chest rising and falling in sync with his suckling. Despite the soreness, a warmth spread through your body, a tingling sensation building up between your legs. Your hand found its way to his hair, threading through the soft strands as you held him closer, urging him to continue. Suguru's other hand slipped under the robe, cupping your other breast, his thumb flicking over the nipple in rhythm with his mouth. His touch grew more confident as he sensed your arousal, his fingers tweaking and rolling the sensitive flesh, sending waves of pleasure rushing through your body. You leaned back into the pillows, allowing yourself to fully relax, "Suguru, you're like a baby," you mewled when his other hand started kneading the sore flesh of your other breast. He pulled away from your breast with a satisfying pop. "I'm just a man who loves his wife and is eager to taste every part of her," he said before switching breasts.

Suguru's eyes sparkled, his warm, wet tongue tracing the outline of your nipple before taking it into his mouth again. He latched on, his suckling rhythm increasing in tempo as he swirled his tongue around the sensitive peak. You gasped, the sensation now a mix of pleasure and relief, the pain fading into the background as your body responded to his touch. He began to draw out the milk from your breast, his cheeks hollowing slightly as he drank. The feeling of his mouth on your skin, the gentle tug of your nipple, and the warmth of his breath sent shivers down your spine, making you arch your back unconsciously. Your free hand moved down to the waistband of your pajama bottoms, your fingers brushing against your heated skin. Suguru's own desire was palpable, his breathing becoming more ragged as he drank from you, savoring every drop of the sweet milk that overfilled his mouth.

As Suguru's suckling grew more eager, milk began to dribble down his chin, leaving a wet trail. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips. His free hand slid down to cover yours, guiding it to the rhythm of his mouth as he continued to drink from your body. The fabric of your pajama bottoms grew wet with your juices, and your hips began to rock gently against his hand, seeking more pressure, more friction.

Feeling your body responding to his touch, Suguru's eyes grew dark with passion. He pulled away from your breast, the nipple glistening with your milk and his saliva. He leaned back, taking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and heaving chest. "Look what you do to me, my love," he murmured, gesturing to the bulge in his pants. He kissed you deeply, sharing the taste of your milk as your hand moved more urgently between your legs. His thumb pressed firmly against your swollen clit as he slid two fingers into your wet heat. You moaned into the kiss, your hips moving in time with his slow, deliberate thrusts. Suguru's mouth traveled down to kiss your neck again, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. The sensations grew more intense with each passing second, the pleasure building until you couldn't hold back any longer. With a strangled moan, you bucked against his hand, your body shuddering as a wave of orgasm filled your body. Your hand tightened around his, the intensity of your climax making your toes curl. He didn't stop, his movements becoming more vigorous as he felt your wetness coat his hand.

"Fuck, can you hear her speaking?" he said with a feral expression as his fingers kept going - filling the bedroom with wet squelching sounds. His fingers plunged in and out of you with an unrelenting pace, each stroke hitting just the right spot to make you quiver. "You're going to come again, aren't you?" he taunted, his voice a low growl. He leaned down to capture your nipple with his mouth once more, suckling hard as his thumb circled your clit. The dual sensations pushed you over the edge, and you cried out as another orgasm washed over you. Your body spasmed, juices gushing onto his hand and soaking the bed beneath you. Suguru pulled away, grinning wickedly as he watched your reaction. "So beautiful, my love," he said, licking his fingers. "I could do this all day."

[steddieas-shegoes]

i love him on purpose

for @steddielovemonth using red, white, and royal blue for inspiration

rated t | 1385 words | cw: forced coming out | tags: established relationship, secret relationship, royal steve harrington, wayne munson is the president (god i wish)

🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵

The news broke in the middle of the night, long after Eddie had fallen asleep, and just before Steve’s alarm woke him up.

PRINCE STEVEN CAUGHT HOOKING UP WITH FIRST SON EDDIE, ROYAL FAMILY INSISTS ON SECRECY

Every headline is some variation of Steve and Eddie being caught, but there’s no photos. Most articles point to the royal family not wanting to allow it, but they didn’t even know about it.

Steve’s been so careful, much more careful than Eddie. Eddie’s told his best friends and Wayne, who deserves to know when his nephew turned son is getting into things. Especially when the thing he’s getting into is the Prince of England.

Steve doesn’t really have many friends. He has Robin, who is more like a sister to him, and an entire advisory team, publicists, security…

He won’t answer his phone, which means all of those people have probably informed him he is to have no contact with the outside world until they figure out what to do. Eddie doesn’t know what to do.

They talked about hypotheticals, as any young adults in the public eye are wont to do. How they’d handle the press when they come out. How they would handle Steve’s family when they come out.

All under the assumption that they would have control over their coming out.

How naive.

“Ed. I have to give some kind of message here,” Wayne says softly, gently like he knows that Eddie is gonna beg him not to say anything until he hears from Steve. “Silence ain’t gonna win us any favors.”

“I promised he wouldn’t have to do this alone,” Eddie says. “If we make a statement now, I’m just throwing him to the wolves.”

“Not necessarily. Plenty of options with what to say. As long as we acknowledge we’ve seen it, they don’t have to have any other information,” Wayne says. “I’ll follow your lead, kid.”

“I don’t know what the right thing is.”

Wayne pulls him into a hug. This isn’t the first time they’ve had a PR nightmare on their hands, and probably won’t be the last. Wayne’s always been good at handling things just fine.

But this is something Eddie needs to handle. He accepts the comforting hug, then he decides to be brave.

****

“Forcing anyone to come out is disgusting, and the media has done it time and time again. In this case, they took something that should have been up to me, and up to Prince Steve, and made it world news based on a false report of someone seeing us together at an event. Whether we are together romantically or not isn’t up for speculation. We are what we are. We choose how to define that to ourselves, to our loved ones, and maybe someday, to everyone.” Eddie takes a deep breath and looks into the many cameras facing him, trying his best to ignore the reporters anxiously waiting to be able to ask questions. He’s not letting them, but they don’t know that yet. “Respect goes both ways. Pops has always taught me that respect is earned, not freely given. No one in this press room has earned my respect. Until you do, the only news story you can break about me is that I’m disappointed in the way the media has handled this news story. Thanks for your time.”

Eddie leaves the room.

Wayne is waiting for him in his office.

“Proud of ya, son.”

“Thanks.”

“Your boy will be here in four hours.”

Eddie’s jaw drops. “He called?”

“He did more than call. He caused a scene with every secretary in the building. He insisted he needed to speak to me.”

“He could’ve called me,” Eddie is pacing.

“You left your phone in here earlier, remember? He was desperate.”

“Is he okay? Have they made a statement yet?”

“They haven’t. They wanted to see what we’d do first.” Wayne holds Eddie’s phone out to him. “But I think he could stand to hear from ya.”

Eddie steps in to take the phone from him, but Wayne clasps his hand between his, holding tight.

“I can’t protect you from the media forever, but I’ll always stick up for you and your happiness. You know that?”

“Of course I do,” Eddie answers.

“That goes for your Prince, too,” Wayne smirks. “His family’s on thin ice, though.”

****

Eddie talks to Steve on the phone for a few minutes, but Steve’s not alone, and Eddie’s trying not to hide away entirely from everyone who cares about him. It’s a short conversation, but it’s enough to get them through until Steve arrives.

He sounds like he’s being stoic.

Eddie knows he’s struggling.

It takes nearly two hours of security for Steve to actually get to Eddie’s suite.

“Baby,” Eddie says as he pulls Steve into his chest, feeling whole for the first time since he woke up. “It’s okay. It’s all gonna be okay.”

“They’re making a statement any minute now,” Steve says miserably.

“I’m guessing it’s not what you wanted.” Steve shakes his head in response. “That’s okay. We can work with whatever we need to.”

“They wouldn’t let me do it,” Steve explains. “I wanted to do something like what you did. They said I was too emotional.”

“I think you’re just emotional enough. God forbid you show signs of being a human.”

Steve laughs. Eddie smiles.

“Have you eaten? Do you wanna get cleaned up? I know you hate how airplanes make you feel,” Eddie offers.

Steve tightens his grip around Eddie. That’s answer enough.

****

“We sincerely hope the media will understand that making accusations of this nature about a member of the royal family will not go unpunished. Whether it is true or not, we will be handling this discussion internally. We have contacted the President’s office to have a discussion with their team. Eddie’s statement today was not discussed with us beforehand, nor did it go through any of our approval, and should not be seen as our official statement.”

“Does your grandfather always look like someone pissed directly in his eye?” Eddie asks Steve as they watch the official statement from his room.

“It depends on which of us has displeased him,” Steve laughs. “If it’s my mother, his lip curls up over his teeth.”

Eddie pulls Steve into his side on the couch, turning off the television so they can have some peace. They sit in the silence for a couple of minutes, something neither of them get to do very often.

“Wayne offered us the house in Indiana for a bit. Said it might be nice for us to just be away from the chaos,” Eddie runs his fingers up and down Steve’s arm, smiling to himself when Steve shivers against him. “At least for a few days. Let the media move on and give time for your family to get the sticks surgically removed from their asses.”

“That sounds nice,” Steve agrees, leaning his head back to kiss Eddie’s lips. “I wanna do something first, though.”

Steve pulls away so he can get his phone from the coffee table. It’s been on silent and face down since he arrived. He types for a minute, and Eddie waits.

Steve sets his phone down and turns back to Eddie with a grin.

“Okay, ready to go.”

Eddie’s phone goes off in his pocket. He pulls it out and looks down at where he’s been tagged on Instagram in Steve’s post.

It’s a picture from the trip they took with Wayne to Indiana last month, the two of them by a fire with melted marshmallow all over their lips. They’re both happy.

The caption makes tears pool in Eddie’s eyes and a semi-hysterical laugh burst from his throat.

Doesn’t matter who pissed in his eye, as long as I’ve got you. Let’s go off the grid, baby

“You’re gonna be in so much fuckin’ trouble, baby,” Eddie laughs with disbelief.

“I don’t care. They know better than to cause a bigger scene.” Steve kisses the corner of his mouth. “Can we go to that diner when we get there? The one with the burger that have cheese inside the meat?”

“How American of you,” Eddie teases. “I’ll make sure Wayne calls Benny ahead of time so he knows we’re on our way.”

[bianca-mii]

Paul & Richard kiss

Little post about one of my favorite kisses from the 2022 tour. There's a few different angles already "giffed", but I needed this particular sequence to write about.

The beginning is so cool with Paul's somewhat challenging look, like "okay, here we go, bring it on!"

The guitarists get close to each other and keep prolonging the final notes of Auslaender. Paul makes a gesture with his right hand, I'm not really sure what he's trying to do - tease Richard that he'll spoil something with his guitar stings?

Anyway, Richard remains unphased. He lifts his gaze at the other man and soon... Ohhh, you can easily tell when the idea comes to his mind.

He starts smirking mischievously and all his attention gets focused on Paul's cute little nose. Not for the first time though - we could watch the little pat on Paul's nose from Richard earlier on (2019, obviously the end of Puppe):

Also the other band members don't seem immune to its cuteness:

But what Richard does here is plain off limits. He tickles his fellow guitarist's nose with his predatory gaze and lips stretched into an extremely evil grin for almost 5 seconds. He stays alert, though, for any signs of Paul's disapproval, and when the rhythm guitarist moves his head, probably slightly annoyed anyway, Richard hesitates for a moment. But obviously seeing that Paul is hardly angry (we can't see it from this angle, but Richard certainly can and I believe that it is the case here), he continues his mischief for another while.

Now, I've watched this moment several times and couldn't believe it actually happened. At the beginning I thought Richard was messing with Paul's guitar head. I mean, are they even serious?! A nose tickling session?! Bloody hell! I can't with these two!! Is there anybody who can?!

Okay, another angle. And what do we have next, an annoyed Paul being like "Richard, what the hell"? Nope, of course not. We see Richard grabbing the back of the neck of a broadly smiling Paul, allowing all this like "sure this idiot right here is the biggest dork you'll ever see, but how can I get annoyed at somebody I love..." He prepares for the kiss, his chin lifted, his lips plumped, his eyes closed, and...

And the last angle... It always gets me and makes me truly, truly weak... I've seen many kisses, experienced and keep experiencing quite a few myself, but never have I seen anybody that entirely cheerful and smiling into a kiss as Richard is here. I'm suprised he was even able to kiss Paul with his lips so widely stretched into a grin. The pure joy, happiness and love for the slightly shorter man simply beams from his face with an otherwordly intensity. And when the kiss, by far not as brief as in the earlier shows, is finally ended, he looks at Paul with his eyes confessing the overwhelming feelings yet again.

Clearly deciding all what has happened in this very moment between the guitarists is fairly enough and satisfying for now, Richard lets his beloved bandmate go, probably remembering Paul's favorite places for such intimate interactions are behind the drumkit, under the B-stage, anyway, definitely not in the spotlight. The guitarists part their ways, go back to their reality, already thinking about Du Riechst So Gut intro, and it's only us, the fans, left, who need to come to terms with the fact we've just seen something we may likely never experience ourselves...

The whole video (cropped by me):

Credits: LIFAD Ukraine, richard_paulfuuuk, luisbawzaski

Quelle: Instagram

[liqutos]

As a fellow transgender scientist (non-US) this is absolutely terrifying to see. I remember when making my account to publish on ACS journals them asking optional questions about my gender identity and if I identified as gay or transgender. I remember mentioning how stupid that was to a couple people and they all told that it was "most likely just for inclusivity", but looking at the situation now it's all but certain that it will be used to root out queer people from academia and prevent them from publishing in established American journals. Information supposedly used for good ending up in the wrong hands.

I feel the way you do - studying chemistry and currently doing my PhD has helped me overcome the idea that "trans and queer people can never be successful", seeing and meeting other queer academics and my university has really helped me really come to terms with transitioning being the right option for me. Opening up the sciences to trans people, I feel, is also really important in that the education we receive (esp bio and Chem) allows us to educate not only ourselves but other queer and even cis people about us.

The American culture war against queer and transgender people is starting to spread to us too. One of the conservative run states in my country just banned gender affirming care for minors, stating that they will conduct a "comprehensive review" into it (obviously biased). Things like this is why queer people in science is so important. We don't have many voices in higher positions in academia or politics, so we have no one at the top willing to speak for us. By discouraging and downright discriminating against queer presence in science, they want to make sure that we never have a say. But we have to stay undeterred - the only way to change academia is to join it, and let them know we are a presence that is here to stay.

Sending hugs as a fellow PhD student <3

By now, there's lots of people have heard about the internal CDC memos for all newly prepared manuscripts (like future scientific papers waiting to be published):

There's so much to comment on, and I'm seeing it all right now. What the state of science is. What this means for the queer community. All of that.

But fuck, I think I might genuinely start crying over this. As a transgender biologist, this feels like a brutally personal blow. I slowly accepted my gender alongside my biology education. The more misinformation that was spewed about "biological sex" by mainstream media, the more my professors, colleagues, and primary sources would casually drop information that proved they have no idea what they're talking about. I'm not an expert on sex determination, gender, or transgender biology specifically by any means. But my worldview has been crafted by my studies in genetics and molecular biology.

Engaging with this research helped me demystify transition. It helped me optimize my transition. It helped me explain how HRT and other steps of trans healthcare work to other people. And it helped me overcome my own internalized transphobia, and finally start transitioning, despite knowing I wanted to since my preteen years.

Who knows how enforceable internal guidelines like this will be. But its certainly going to scare a lot of researchers away from transgender healthcare and science in the coming years, and that breaks my heart.

There's a lot I can say here, but fuck. I just needed to vent for a moment. Fuck.

[helvegen-s]

crossing lines | five

index

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x OC

Summary: In the dizzying world of Formula 1, where speed and competition dominate every second, Carlos Sainz Jr., a young Spanish driver with undeniable talent, struggles to find his place amidst the pressure and expectations. Livia Visconti, heiress to an Italian fashion empire, moves with the same determination in a universe of elegance and power. Two opposing worlds, two strong personalities, an inevitable clash that will ignite a spark between them. But in a world where image and success are everything, can they risk it all for a love that defies the rules of the game?

WC: 4.3k

Warnings: emotional abuse, verbal abuse, toxic relationships, past trauma

A/N: this is coming to an end!! i planed this story to be short (two more parts), since it's the first time i've ever written anything f1 related. i hope you are liking it :))

Livia sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers gently swirling the wine in her glass. Her friends, gathered around the room, watched her with curious smiles, waiting for her to speak. The night had been magical, and now it was her turn to share.

"So... what happened?" Chiara asked, leaning forward with excitement. "Tell us everything!"

Livia smiled, her heart still fluttering from the events of the evening. She took a deep breath, her gaze distant for a moment as she remembered Carlos's touch, his tenderness. It was as if everything felt... different now.

"It was... perfect," Livia began softly, her voice betraying the happiness she hadn’t allowed herself to fully feel in a long time. "We walked along the harbor, talked about everything and nothing... It just felt... easy, you know? Like we were on the same page. And when he kissed me..." She paused, a smile tugging at her lips. "It was like everything else faded away. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could just... breathe."

Her friends exchanged knowing glances, their smiles widening. Chiara raised an eyebrow. "So, what does that mean for you and him?"

Livia took a sip of wine, her thoughts momentarily drifting to the man who had made her feel like this. "I don’t know. But for the first time in... forever, I feel like something can actually go right. That maybe, just maybe, I can have something real, something that makes sense. It’s... refreshing."

"Real?" Serena asked, tilting her head slightly. "I thought you didn’t do real anymore."

Livia smiled, but there was a quiet sadness in her eyes. "I didn’t think I could, either. After everything..." She trailed off, the weight of her past suddenly clouding her moment of happiness.

Chiara looked at her closely. "What do you mean?"

Livia’s gaze lowered, as though searching for the right words. "My ex... He destroyed so much of my trust. I didn’t even realize how much until recently. It wasn’t just the relationship; it was everything that came with it. The way he controlled everything, manipulated me. It was like I was suffocating, and I didn’t even know how to breathe on my own anymore." She paused, swallowing the lump in her throat. "That’s why I’ve always been so guarded, why I kept people at arm's length. I didn’t know how to let anyone in after that. I was too scared."

Her friends sat quietly, taking in her words. Chiara finally spoke, her voice soft but firm. "I get it, Liv. But Carlos... he’s not him. You know that, right?"

Livia nodded, her heart swelling with a mix of hope and hesitation. "I know. That’s the part that scares me. But with Carlos, it’s different. He doesn’t want to change me. He just... gets me. For once, someone isn’t judging me or pushing me to be something I’m not. He understands what it’s like to always have eyes on you. It’s like... like we don’t have to explain ourselves to each other."

Martina smiled knowingly, her voice teasing. "Well, it sounds like someone’s already falling."

Livia laughed, a playful lightness returning to her tone. "Maybe I am. But I’m taking it slow. I don’t want to rush into anything."

"Of course," Chiara said with a knowing wink. "But don’t forget to enjoy it. You deserve to feel good, Liv. After everything, you deserve something real."

Livia smiled at her friends, her heart lighter than it had been in a long time. For the first time in years, she felt like she could truly embrace the possibility of something better. And maybe, just maybe, Carlos was the person who would make that possible.

The Amalfi sun bathed the coastline in its warm glow, and Livia began to notice something she hadn’t felt in a long time—her laughter came naturally, free of any weight. Every day with Carlos felt like a little adventure, and as they explored together, she felt the walls she had built around herself slowly crumble.

They filled their days with all kinds of plans. One morning, Carlos rented a small sailboat, and not far from the harbor, they found a hidden cove where they spent the afternoon swimming and laughing. Another day, they drove to a nearby town, wandering through its narrow streets and poking around in charming souvenir shops.

Each day brought a new excuse to steal kisses, share subtle touches, and enjoy the thrill of discovering each other in ways they hadn’t before.

The idea of horseback riding came up casually over breakfast on a terrace overlooking the sea. Livia had mentioned, with visible excitement, how riding had always been one of her favorite activities growing up—a source of peace.

Carlos, not one to back down from an adventure, agreed to the plan but confessed he’d never been on a horse before.

“Never?” Livia asked, both surprised and amused.

“Never,” Carlos admitted, laughing. “But I’m willing to give it a shot. Just don’t laugh if I fall.”

At the stable, nestled among green hills with breathtaking views of the Mediterranean, Livia took the lead. Dressed in light riding pants and boots, she greeted the owner, an old family friend, with a natural confidence. She quickly picked out a calm horse for Carlos.

“This is Nero,” she said, stroking the neck of a dark brown horse. “He’s gentle and perfect for beginners. Don’t worry—he won’t bite.”

“And what if I outrun you?” Carlos teased, eyeing Nero as if sizing up an opponent.

“Then I’ll have to show you what years of practice can do,” Livia quipped, mounting her white horse with ease.

The ride started slowly, with Livia explaining the basics. “Sit straight, but stay relaxed. Keep the reins firm, but don’t pull too hard. And please, don’t try to go faster unless you’re sure of yourself.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Any more advice, or are you just trying to prove I’m a rookie?”

“Don’t get defensive!” she shot back with a playful smile. “Come on, Nero’s your teammate now.”

Carlos moved stiffly at first, every step of the horse making him wobble awkwardly. Meanwhile, Livia glided gracefully, her years of experience evident.

“Having fun?” she called back, pausing to let him catch up.

“Absolutely,” Carlos replied, feigning confidence. “Though I think my legs are going to hate me tomorrow.”

After some practice, Livia suggested a gentle trot. “Come on, try to keep up,” she challenged.

“If I fall, you have to promise not to laugh.”

“No promises,” she said with a mischievous grin before urging her horse forward.

To his credit, Carlos managed to keep up, his determination earning Livia’s admiration. By the end of the ride, with the sun setting over the hills, he dismounted clumsily but with a genuine smile.

“Well, I survived. That counts as an achievement, right?”

Livia approached him, still laughing softly. “You did well for your first time. Though I think Nero deserves most of the credit.”

“So the horse is the favorite, huh?” Carlos teased, brushing dust off his pants.

Livia smiled warmly. “You might have to visit Amalfi more often. I never thought I’d see you on a horse.”

Carlos shrugged. “What can I say? For you, I’ll try anything.”

As they walked back together, the horses trailing behind, the fading sunlight painted the sky in shades of gold and pink. Livia felt a rare sense of contentment, knowing these moments with Carlos were what truly mattered.

They didn’t spend all their time alone. Some nights, Livia joined Carlos at gatherings with his childhood friends. One evening, at a beachside bar, a group of musicians began improvising a song, and Livia, encouraged by the wine and the festive atmosphere, joined in singing. From his spot at the bar, Carlos watched her, captivated by the ease and joy she radiated.

“Is she always like this?” one of his friends asked.

“Not at all,” Carlos replied with a smile, his eyes never leaving Livia. “But I love seeing her this way.”

On another occasion, Livia introduced Carlos to her friends. They spent an afternoon at the beach, playing volleyball and sharing stories. The day was perfect—the sun glittering on the water and laughter filling the air. As they sat on the sand with cold drinks and a relaxed vibe, Chiara decided it was the perfect moment to "interrogate" Carlos.

“Well, Carlos, since you’re the most interesting person at the table and, clearly, the only man here, I have some important questions for you,” Chiara said, her grin wide enough to make Livia immediately suspicious.

Carlos leaned forward, amused and intrigued. “Go ahead, Chiara. I’m ready.”

Chiara shifted in her seat, as if preparing to moderate a press conference. “First: how many drivers on the grid are single? And if there are any, who would you say is the most handsome? Purely professional curiosity.”

Carlos burst into laughter as Livia covered her face with her hand, caught between embarrassment and amusement.

“Well,” Carlos began, trying not to laugh too hard, “there are a few single ones, but I’m not sure who’s looking for someone... Or should I just tell you who’s the most handsome?”

“Please!” Chiara exclaimed, raising her hands. “Let me make it easier for you. If you had to play matchmaker, who would you pair me with? I want options—and phone numbers.”

“Chiara, for the love of God…” Livia interjected, attempting to sound serious but failing to hide her smile.

Carlos took it in stride. “Alright, let’s see. I think Pierre would be thrilled. He’s fun, loves fashion, and always has a joke ready. Or maybe Lando, if you’re into younger guys with charisma.”

Chiara pretended to jot down notes in the air. “Hmm, interesting. Though I’m not sure about the ‘younger’ part.”

One afternoon, while Livia and Carlos were relaxing on a terrace overlooking the harbor, Livia glanced at her phone and noticed a message from an unknown number. A wave of unease washed over her instantly. Opening the message, its contents struck her like a blow from the past:

"So, you're in Amalfi with a driver now. Looking for another story for the public? You know how these things end."

The message was brief, but its intention was clear. It was her ex. The carefully chosen, stinging words disrupted the peace she had been building.

Carlos, sitting across from her, noticed the change in her expression.

"Everything okay?" he asked, his tone laced with concern.

"I don’t know," Livia admitted, vulnerability creeping into her tone. "He stopped bothering me a while ago, but he always knows when to reappear to..."

Livia looked up, attempting a smile, but it didn’t convince him. She hesitated for a moment before showing him the message. Carlos read it, his jaw tightening as his eyes scanned the words.

"How long has this been going on?" he asked calmly, though his voice carried an edge.

"To try to control your life," Carlos finished, his gaze sharp and protective.

Carlos set the phone down on the table and leaned closer, taking her hand firmly. "Livia, you don’t have to deal with this alone. If he bothers you again, we’ll handle it together. I’m not going to let him drag you down again."

Carlos gave her a small smile, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "I don’t know if I always do, but I know this: I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not while I’m here."

Livia looked at him, surprised by his determination. She had expected discomfort, maybe even a suggestion to ignore the problem, but his response disarmed her.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice trembling slightly. "I don’t know how you always know exactly what to say."

The Amalfi vacation came to an end faster than either of them would have liked. On their last afternoon together, sitting by the sea, Livia and Carlos discussed what they had started to build.

"What do we do now?" Livia asked, gazing at the horizon. The breeze gently played with her hair, and while her voice was calm, there was a note of uncertainty in it.

Carlos looked at her, his fingers idly playing with a small shell he had picked up on the beach. "I think the best thing is to keep this between us, at least for now. The press always finds a way to ruin something good."

Livia nodded, relieved that they were on the same page. "I don’t want what we have to become a spectacle. I want us to decide when, how, and if we share it with the world."

Carlos took her hand, intertwining their fingers. "Then that’s what we’ll do. Just us. At least until we’re ready."

Back in their respective lives, Livia and Carlos found ways to stay connected. Long nightly calls filled with laughter and spontaneous messages throughout the day became part of their routine. Carlos sent photos from the circuits, often with sarcastic comments about paddock gossips, while Livia shared images of her latest designs or small everyday moments she thought might make him smile.

It didn’t take long for eagle-eyed fans to start noticing coincidences in their Instagram posts. A photo of Livia enjoying gelato in Amalfi suspiciously matched another of Carlos at the same spot, posted just hours apart. A sunset on the beach, an Italian restaurant... the clues were enough for theories to start swirling.

Despite this, neither Livia nor Carlos commented publicly. When journalists tried to broach the subject during interviews, both deflected with calculated responses.

Months later, the Italian Grand Prix at Monza was a whirlwind of emotions. Ferrari secured an incredible home victory with Charles Leclerc crossing the finish line first, while Carlos finished a respectable fourth after an intense battle on track. Although he didn’t make the podium, his performance was solid, and the paddock buzzed with pride and celebration.

Livia had followed the race from a private hospitality suite, staying discreet but feeling every moment of excitement. When Carlos crossed the finish line, she couldn’t help but applaud, admiring his determination on such a demanding circuit.

That evening, Ferrari hosted a gala dinner in Milan to commemorate the triumph. Livia received an invitation through her professional circle, and while she knew attending could fuel rumors, she didn’t want to miss the opportunity to be there.

The event took place in a luxurious palace in the heart of the city. Golden lights illuminated the façade as elegantly dressed guests arrived in sleek cars.

Carlos was already there, surrounded by teammates and industry figures. He wore a flawlessly tailored Visconti dark blue suit, though his attention was clearly divided. He couldn’t stop glancing around, wondering when Livia might appear.

The sound of animated conversation filled the hall as Carlos chatted with Lando, George, and Charles. Then, the grand doors opened, and Livia entered, arm-in-arm with her father.

She wore an elegant black dress that enhanced her natural poise, her smile lighting up the room. Carlos couldn’t help but watch as she moved with that unmistakable grace he had always associated with her. But now, there was no trace of the skepticism or irritation she had once inspired in him. Instead, he found himself captivated, unable to look away.

"You’re missing something, Sainz," Lando said with a sly grin, following Carlos’s gaze. "But don’t worry, just keep staring. That’ll fix it."

Carlos rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the comments, though his focus remained on Livia as she greeted familiar faces and exchanged pleasantries with her father.

Moments later, Livia approached their group with a warm smile, her tone bright yet composed, as though she had always belonged in their circle.

"Good evening," she said graciously, greeting the group. "First of all, congratulations, Lando. McLaren has been making quite the impression lately."

"Thank you," Lando replied, beaming with pride. "We’re working hard to stay competitive."

"And Charles," she continued, turning to Leclerc. "An amazing victory today. Ferrari needed that in front of its home crowd. It was thrilling to see you on the podium."

Charles nodded in gratitude. "Thank you, Livia. Monza is always special, but winning here... it’s something else entirely."

The conversation flowed naturally as Livia spoke with a mix of knowledge and charisma that captured everyone’s attention. Carlos, though silent, couldn’t stop admiring her. There was something about the way she navigated the discussion, making everyone feel valued, that left him utterly entranced.

The evening seemed perfect until an unexpected voice shattered the harmony.

“You always knew how to be the center of attention, didn’t you, Livia?”

The sharp tone made Livia tense instantly. Slowly, she turned to find Matteo, her ex-partner, walking toward the group. With his impeccable suit and false smile, he radiated the arrogance that Livia had long learned to despise.

“Matteo,” Livia said with her characteristic poised air, straightening up immediately. “I didn’t know you were invited.”

“I’m surprised you were,” Matteo replied, his smile turning even more bitter. “Then again, you’ve always known how to sneak into places you don’t belong.”

“If I’m here, it’s because I earned it,” Livia shot back, not losing her composure. “Unlike others, I don’t need money to open doors for me.”

The pilots exchanged surprised glances. The tension was palpable, but Livia continued to project that unwavering confidence she was known for—or at least seemed to.

“Always so quick with words,” Matteo continued, stepping closer. “But behind all that charm and facade, you’re still the same insecure little girl who needs everyone’s attention to feel validated.”

Livia narrowed her eyes, her jaw tightening, but she didn’t miss a beat. “I’d rather be an ‘insecure little girl’ than someone incapable of entering a relationship without destroying the other person’s life.”

The group fell silent, processing the blow Livia had delivered. But Matteo wasn’t finished.

“Relationship? Call it what it was, Livia: a performance, and you were the star. Always so good at pretending everything was fine. And look at you now, with your new ‘friends.’ What are you doing here? Looking for another name to add to your collection? The richer, the better, right?”

Matteo’s words hit like a sledgehammer. For a moment, Livia seemed to lose her breath. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. The scars from her past with him, which she thought had healed, suddenly tore open again.

“That’s enough,” Carlos intervened, stepping forward. His tone was calm, but there was a sharpness in his voice that made Matteo sneer.

“And who are you to tell me what to do?” Matteo sneered, turning to face Carlos. “Another idiot who buys into her act?”

Lando joined Carlos, crossing his arms. “I think we all know who the real idiot is here.”

Charles added coldly, “What I don’t understand is why you’re still here. It’s clear you’re not welcome.”

“Welcome?” Matteo laughed mockingly. “How amusing. None of you know the real Livia. Always so good at pretending to be strong, but let me tell you something: no matter who she surrounds herself with, she’ll always be the same broken person.”

Matteo’s cruel words made Livia take a small step back, as though they had physically struck her.

Carlos stepped closer, his gaze fixed on Matteo. “That’s enough. If you have a problem with Livia, this is neither the time nor the place. And believe me, it’s not in your best interest to continue.”

“Oh, really? And what are you going to do about it, guard dog?” Matteo provoked, stepping toward Carlos.

Before the situation could escalate, Charles placed a hand on Carlos’s arm, holding him back. “Leave it, Carlos,” he said in a low but firm voice. “He’s not worth it.”

Matteo looked around, noticing the defiant expressions of the pilots surrounding him. Despite his arrogance, even he knew when to back down.

“This isn’t over, Livia,” he said finally, throwing her one last look before turning and walking away.

When Matteo disappeared into the crowd, Livia stood still, her eyes glassy but fixed on the ground. Carlos turned to her, his face filled with concern.

"Livia," he said softly, placing a hand on her arm.

She looked up, but the words seemed trapped in her throat. Finally, she murmured, "I need to get out of here."

Carlos nodded immediately. "Let's go."

Without letting go of her, he guided her toward the exit under the curious gaze of those present, leaving the noise of the hall behind. Once outside, the cool night air wrapped around them. Livia took a few steps forward, pulling away a little, trying to control the tears that threatened to overflow.

"Livia," Carlos said, approaching her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I didn't want this to happen... I didn’t want..."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Carlos interrupted firmly. "He was the problem, not you."

The tears finally fell, and Livia tried to cover her face, embarrassed. But Carlos wrapped her in a hug, allowing her to lean on him as her emotions overwhelmed her.

"My God, how embarrassing. Why do I always end up crying when I'm with you? You should know that this isn't usually me."

Carlos chuckled softly as he looked at Livia, wiping her tears with the handkerchief from his suit. With his hand still on her back, he leaned slightly to meet her gaze. "Are you feeling better?" he asked gently, as though fearing to push too much.

Livia weakly nodded, carefully wiping her tears. "I'm sorry for ruining the night. I didn't want to..."

"Hey," Carlos interrupted, placing a hand under her chin to make her look at him. "None of this is your fault, okay? And the night isn’t ruined. I'm here with you, and that's all that matters."

She looked at him, her eyes still shining with emotion, but now there was something else: a warmth that came from Carlos's words, from his presence. He kissed her forehead as he hugged her again, enjoying the way their bodies fit together perfectly.

"You always know what to say, don't you? Is it a natural talent, or have you practiced a lot?" Livia said with a small smile, though still a little shaky.

Carlos laughed softly, gently brushing Livia's hair. "Let’s say it’s something I save for special occasions."

Livia let out a small, more genuine laugh this time, pulling away just enough to look him in the eyes. "Thanks for not leaving me alone in there. I don’t know what I would have done without you. I should go back and thank the guys too, it was really sweet of them to stand up for me."

Carlos tilted his head, seeking her gaze. "You don’t need to thank anyone. I'm here because I want to be. And I’m not going anywhere."

Before she could respond, a familiar voice interrupted the moment.

"Wow, now this is a dramatic scene. Should I be worried?"

Livia quickly turned to find her father, watching them with a mix of humor and curiosity. He was swinging his cane in his right hand as he slowly approached them.

"Dad," Livia said, her voice still weak but with a hint of concern. "What are you doing here? You should be inside."

"And miss this?" he replied, raising an eyebrow. "I've been bored all night listening to men in suits talk about engines. At least out here, it seems like something interesting is going on."

Carlos, feeling uncomfortable but maintaining his composure, took a small step back. "Sir, I apologize if we’ve caused any worry."

Livia's father studied him closely before flashing a smile. "Worry? Not at all. Though I must say, you’ve handled this situation better than I would have. If the scene had lasted any longer, I’d have kicked that rude Matteo’s ass with my cane myself."

"Dad," Livia interrupted, clearly embarrassed.

"Relax, my love," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'm just saying I’m impressed. This guy has style. And patience. Something, if I’m honest, that’s not easy to find."

Carlos let out a small chuckle. "I do what I can."

Livia’s father turned to her and, with a tremendous physical effort, kissed the top of her head, his tone now softer. "Are you okay?"

Livia nodded, although her eyes were still shining. "Yeah. Thanks, Dad."

"Good," he said, looking back at Carlos. "Then I trust you’ll take good care of her. Because if not, you’ll have to face me. And believe me, I can be a lot worse than Matteo."

Livia let out a laugh, though still moved by the moment. "Dad, don’t scare Carlos."

"Scare him? No way," her father replied, smiling knowingly at the driver. "This guy has more guts than I thought. I think he can handle anything."

Carlos smiled, nodding in a gesture of respect. "I’ll do my best not to disappoint."

Livia’s father watched them for a moment before letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Well, I guess this is the moment where I say something wise and profound, right?"

Livia raised an eyebrow, confused. "What do you mean, Dad?"

He looked at her, then at Carlos, and gave a mischievous smile. "I mean that this gala is terribly boring, and after everything that just happened, I think we need something… more authentic."

Carlos looked at him curiously. "Something more authentic?"

"Exactly," the man said, crossing his arms. "There’s a place not far from here, a little joint I used to frequent when I was young. They make the best burgers you’ll ever taste. No foie gras or carpaccio. Just meat, cheese, and fries. What do you say? Shall we get out of here?"

Livia blinked, clearly surprised. "Are you suggesting we leave the Ferrari gala to eat burgers?"

"Exactly that," her father replied with a wide grin. "Come on, Liv. You said yourself the night’s already been pretty eventful. Why not finish it off in an even more memorable way?"

Carlos let out a laugh, impressed by the man’s spontaneity. "Sounds like a good plan, sir."

"That’s the spirit!" her father exclaimed, giving Carlos a pat on the shoulder. "See, Livia? He gets it. Plus, after everything you’ve been through tonight, I think you deserve a good burger. I’ll call the driver. Or are you driving, pretty boy?" he said, pointing at Carlos.

Livia couldn’t help but laugh at her father’s comment, and Carlos laughed along with her.

"I’ll go get the car," said the Spanish driver.

Taglist:

@smoooothoperator @leptitlu

if you want to be added to the taglist, let me now!!

[itsdafavone]

❝𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧' 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤?❞

cw: kinda fluff - light cussing, mention of fighting.

tropes: friends-to-lovers (kinda enemies), grumpy x grumpiest.

pairing: best friend!katsuki bakugou x f!reader.

if there was something that for the surprise of both of us never made any truly mad, that was probably how neither of us could've won. Each other, of course.

me, and him that have always "allowed" me to follow him around; we never won from a fight against one another. Always truly infuriating but we never thought about it that deep since our friendship was way more important than this shit, even if none of us would admit it out loud. But here am I, I've stopped to take a brief moment and think about it all, since Mina called me out:

"girl y'know that ain't normal for such talented person such as yourself..."

she took a pause, trying go figure if that was what she was going to say, frustrated because couldn't find her "right" words, kept going

"and your, uh, friend?" giggled "it's not possible that none of you are able to win."

it's frustrating how kats' spends more time in my mind than I would find enjoyable... not that I would find enjoyable thinking of him; but lord it could be way less.

so it all started to descend in ruins in our first spar in a while. I wasn't feeling really good, but denying something to him, mainly when it comes to a fight, it's something that you'll never forget. Why? the spoiled brat will make sure you never forget how weak, self aware and fearful you were; afraid of losing to a god like him, even if he was completely convinced it was obvious you wouldn't. He is a complete fool, a natural.

but how I was delighted to fight with this fool every time. All of our fights were so deep highlighted by not holding back ever. A dance only we could pull up, our momentary show that makes everything worth it, even losing. Letting go all of the social cues, obligations and images of ourselves; only pure and raw anger.

until we are too tired to keep going, to sick of using one another to it's own sake, quirks denying their activation and lungs burning like hell.

a good visit to recovery girl (who couldn't stand our bullshit anymore), a bath in an almost shared dorm; and a nap. Him not insisting, but sleeping in the ground, me in his oh so sweet scented sheets. An ether aroma that never failed into embracing me to sleep, never.

"wake up." he would throw a pillow at me, even if his voice was almost tender when he commanded. I would look annoyed at him taking my deep breath, too sore from the day before to discuss, just like him.

"what time is it?" monotone voice, almost closed eyes, he would smirk. Shit, he made me late on purpose, and I fell for it again.

"shit kats', I fucking hate you!" got up and went all fast to my dorm, luckily the door aside.

"but I love you..." he murmured, before I could get out the door. What the fuck?

I turned to look to him, in total disbelief, a hint of hope in the corner of my eyes, for sure. He fixed his uniform belt.

"Tyler the creator." looked deeply at me, felt like it was through my soul and back. "IFHY." how well I knew him, he was trying act nonchalant.

"sure" even for that tiny brief moment that the stars aligned and time has peaked its final form, stopped and stood completely between us; I've still left for my dorm, looking desperately for my uniform.

the classroom had a weird taste as the day follow its steps, I wasn't in the mood for conversations and my friends respected my boundaries. Just feeling nostalgic for things that wasn't that much time ago, and for others that were way to long.

and feeling melt under his gaze.

all classes finally had their ending, stretching myself close to the door after finishing cleaning, taking my shoe's and being stopped mid-going-away.

"wanna go buy groceries?" he was legit serious, like, drop dead serious. Even if it was out of nowhere; I said a weirdly uneventful: "yeah, why not?".

walking there was awkward, a constant feeling that there's something being unsaid. I didn't dare looking his way, too afraid I would spill what I've been thinking, and how it have been almost all of the time about him. He wasn't particularly comfortable either, not from the way he was constantly itching the nape of his neck.

I stopped, because my body suddenly told me to. Not that it was right, but it felt right and necessary. He made the same, turning to face me.

"what?" he was feeling the nitroglycerin escaping from his palms, his body telling him to fight but not to talk.

"there's something you want to tell me?" he did a micro reaction, his eyes briefly grow bigger and went back to usual as fast. "there's something you need to tell but feel like you can't?".

he laughed not too hard, more in disbelief than anything.

"you're a pain in the ass huh?" unbelievable how you could predict, what himself couldn't say out loud.

"yeah, with the ones that deserves it!" you both giggled, feeling the tension in the air fade away.

he leaned towards you, just enough so he could see all of you. Not only outside but inside too, your eyes telling him exactly what he needed; the weird reassurance of your presence.

"you're makin' me sick." he told you calmly, brows furrowed in concentration.

"makin' you sick?" you said half smiling, almost teasingly. Until it snapped. You knew katsuki, he wouldn't say that in a appropriate way. Your face giving away the fact you've already got everything figured out.

he gave you that shit-eating grin, turning his back and keeping his steps not so steady so you could easily catch up.

he made you sick to your guts too.

✸notes: that was actually so fun to write, even if it's short 😭

[aishabellasbigblogofeverything]

I love it when women hate men. I love it when women are allowed to vent to each other about how horrible and creepy men are. I love it when women form friendships with and prioritize each other over relationships with men(whether they're attracted to them or not). I love it when women put men dni in their bios and on their nude photos and on posts on their blogs. I love it when women refuse to mollycoddle and accommodate entitled male feelings with "but this doesn't mean I hate all men, I know a few men who are great, I love my father/sons/brothers/uncles/male cousins/guy friends" I love it when women complain about men WITHOUT "not all men" being a disclaimer. I love it when women avoid socializing with/refuse to be around/befriend/get close to men because they know men can't be trusted. I love it when women make "kill all men" jokes. I love it when women offer absolutely no concern or care for men's feelings and if their misandry offends men whatsoever because why should we, men are the oppressor class who have raped and killed and abused us and kept us as subjugated as second-class citizens for millennia, they regularly mistreat us and the women in their own marginalized communities still every single day and make this world so much harder and more awful for us to be in, and if we choose to hate them and not spare them any sympathy then so be it, and I don't just mean "men as a class" either, you can be a woman who doesn't want to have anything to do with any man on an individual basis and completely cuts off men from her personal life too and ykw I will love and fucking support you in that because men deserve absolutely NOTHING from us. If they're so tough and strong then they can handle it just like they can handle being lonely. If you are a woman who hates men, ESPECIALLY IF YOU ARE A LESBIAN AND/OR A TRANS WOMAN, then just know that I love you. I love you, I support you, and you are safe here.

[hauntingofhouses]

BRB thinking thoughts about Taigen's character, the TaiMizu ship, and a big chunk of fandom's perceptions regarding both those things.

(Inspired by @farintonorth's post related to this topic that just got my brain going brrrrr)

OK so let me just... start off by saying that I think that reducing stories to their tropes is seriously detrimental to the way some people are interacting with fiction, and while that honestly warrants its own post about the subject, I wanna talk specifically about how this affects the way some people in the fandom talk about Taigen and TaiMizu.

Because yeah, tropes are useful shorthand to refer to certain dynamics or archetypes etc, and they are indeed the building blocks to any story. But in a well-written story, characters and their relationships, actions, and motivations, are much more complex than just tropes. Because in a story that has characters who are more than just cardboard cutouts, their behaviours, backgrounds, motivations and all of that, are inseparable from the context of the overall story they exist in.

So like, sure, you can say Mizu and Taigen have an enemies-to-lovers or rivals-to-lovers dynamic. I also use those terms because it's easier. But I also think this is where things start to get a bit twisted, especially from an intertextual sense. Because "enemies-to-lovers" is also commonly used to refer to other ships in other media, whereby it tends to be rooted in an imbalanced power dynamic, such as oppressor-oppressed and bully-victim.

And while that's a whole can of worms that I won't be getting into because it can quickly derail into a whole separate sort of fandom discourse, I'd just like to make it clear that Mizu and Taigen, in particular, do not have an imbalanced power dynamic. They are not bully-victim or oppressor-oppressed. The only understandable reason why someone might actually think their relationship is imbalanced is if

A) they only watched the first episode, or

B) they cannot grasp the slightest bit of nuance in a character, or

C) they're being obtuse on purpose simply because the Mizu/Taigen relationship, or Taigen's character in general, just doesn't suit their tastes.

While yes, Taigen, along with his whole gang, had bullied Mizu when they were children, that dynamic does not exist between them whatsoever in adulthood. Whatever imbalanced bully-victim power dynamic that had once existed between them was decisively ripped apart the moment Mizu beat him in that duel in the dojo, and then completely obliterated by the end of the season.

Mizu is not a defenseless victim at Taigen's mercy. Mizu can beat Taigen's ass any time she wants (and she DOES, repeatedly in fact), and could even kill him if she felt like it. She taunts him openly and without fear ("I like your hair"; "I can beat you with any weapon you choose") and all he does is bark back, because that's pretty much all Taigen ever does. Time and time again, he yaps about how much he wants to kill her, but time and time again, his actions prove that all of it is just an empty threat. Because though his words say "I hate you", his actions demonstrate the complete opposite. He's shown how protective he is of Mizu, how unhesitatingly he sacrifices himself up for her, how loyal he is in enduring days-long torture to not give up information about her, how even when near-death and in pain, he's still willing to keep standing back up so he can fight by her side and help her win against her enemies.

And Mizu is not an idiot! She sees that too. She does not see him as a threat, an enemy, or even a bully. Especially not by the end of Episode 3, and definitely not by the end of the season. When she finds him in the dungeon in Episode 6, she smiles from relief, and doesn't think twice to take him with her. Mizu finds him, at best, an annoyance, or at worst, an infuriating hindrance on her quest for vengeance. Which is why, when Taigen is about to say, "It's a shame our duel's set for tomorrow; I have to kill you before you get your revenge," Mizu whacks him on the head without a second thought before he can even finish his sentence, and leaves him lying unconscious, face-down, in the snow.

And this further emphasises how he does not hold any power over her. There is no abusive power dynamic between them. She is more powerful than him, he knows this, and all he's ever done after they've met up again in adulthood is get his ass whooped by her, get mad about it and pester her and follow her around, get his ass whooped by her some more, and put his life on the line to protect her.

"OOoooOOoooH b-but he called her a demon at the end of Episode 7 and threatened to kill her again!!!" Oh my god. He called her that because he's calling her out on her selfishness to stay silent about her knowledge of Fowler's plans to attack Edo. Because to him, loyalty and honour as a samurai is more important than anything. So in his own brash-and-immature Taigen way, he felt betrayed that Mizu did not hold the same principles. That's why he got angry. He wasn't even that mad about letting Akemi get dragged off by the Tokunobu guards. It was about saving the Shogun and the Shogunate as a whole. That's why the first thing he does in Edo is not find Akemi, but try to warn the Shogun about Fowler's attack.

Look, I'm not defending his stupid ass, of course. Because calling her a demon especially after their cute little wrestling time was obviously rude and inappropriate, especially since words like "demon", "monster" and "Onryo" have had such a deep effect on Mizu throughout her life, and continue to contribute to her self-hatred. But like? That's the fun of realistic and flawed characters, and realistic and flawed relationships. They're not perfect, and it's why we as an audience root for them, wanting to see them work through their shit and find a way to prevail despite it all.

Also, him saying that was in the heat of the moment. He was angry, he felt like his initial belief of who Mizu was—a strong and loyal samurai, just like him—was shattered, and so he lashed out. Was it rude? Definitely. Was it immature of him? Yes, incredibly. But it's also very much in line with his character, because even though he's grown a lot over the course of the season, the show isn't over yet, so obviously his character arc is just beginning, as that is also the case for the other three main characters: Mizu is beginning to accept herself, Akemi is beginning to grow into her position of power, Ringo beginning to train under Master Eiji, while Taigen is beginning to simply be a better person.

On that note, when speaking of Taigen's immaturity, I think that's also one of the main things that people tend to gloss over when it comes to his character. Because when you boil everything down to its bare essentials, Taigen is, essentially, a boy. I've talked about this before, but to reiterate, Taigen very much behaves like an unhealed child. Even as an adult, he is insecure, prone to throwing tantrums, and is desperate to latch onto some material goal in hopes that it will make him feel better—initially he was chasing status/glory/greatness, and then when Mizu tells him that "Nothing comes from being a samurai but death," he immediately decides he wants to run away with Akemi in hopes that he will be happy.

And it's a big step, acknowledging that he doesn't truly want greatness, but had always just assumed it was his only path to a good life. But it's clear he still hasn't really figured it out. Because if he did run off with Akemi to get married and live in the countryside, he still wouldn't be happy. Because he still doesn't know who he really is, or what it is he really wants. Marriage at this moment is the last thing he needs, and as he is now, he would be a pretty awful husband. A simple life would be good for him, but would he be good at a simple life, when he still has so much he needs to work through?

So anyway, what I'm getting at here, is that he's trying and he is learning and growing. So yeah, he is flawed, but honestly? So is Mizu. And the funny thing is that they're flawed in very similar ways.

Because Mizu is also an unhealed child. That's why she's so angry all the time. That's why she pushes people away. That's why she, just like Taigen, is so happy when given the chance to playfully wrestle in the forge, laughing and rolling around like children without shame or pretense.

Again, this shows there is no imbalance between them. They had grown up together as peers from the same town. And while Taigen had had the upper hand back then, because he'd had a gang of other kids with him, that is definitely not the case anymore. Today, they are equally flawed, equally strong, equally skilled swordsmen, and equally bull-headed.

However, yes, Mizu is definitely leagues more mature than Taigen. But she still holds a lot of childhood wounds that mirror Taigen's own. And we see this especially in relation to her mother. Similar to Taigen who had an abusive and alcoholic father, Mizu's Mama was an opium addict and had hit her, berated her, had shaved her head without her consent as a child, and as an adult, had constantly emotionally manipulated and guilt-tripped her. Mizu's love for her Mama was what had driven her to a path of vengeance in the very beginning. And when she'd found out Mama was still alive, she had wanted nothing more than her Mama's love, and it was this alone that pushed her to agree to the marriage with Mikio in the first place. And now, knowing from Fowler that her birth mother is someone else entirely, is what makes her agree to keep him alive and haul his ass to London to seek answers.

Thus, integral to Mizu's self-hatred is also Mizu's intense longing for love and family. Just like Taigen, whose pompousness comes from his insecurity about being the son of a poor fisherman, Mizu's goals are also shaped by who her parents are. Remember, her vengeance is not against just anyone who's corrupt or evil, but specifically against the men who she believes had assaulted her mother, the men she believes had made her a monster, the men she believes had abandoned her to die and continue to try to kill her. Her vengeance is against a father, on behalf of a mother. In The Tale of the Ronin and the Bride, Mizu is not merely the Ronin, the Bride, or the Onryo, but also the Child.

This is also why Ringo is so good, not only for Mizu, but for Taigen as well. Ringo is wise and caring and considerate, but above all, he is in tune with his inner child in ways that Mizu and Taigen are not. He is always earnest and positive, he sees the world with childlike wonder, but is not naive or blind to its ugliness. His whole life has been a battle. Ringo brings out the best in Mizu, consistently acting as her moral compass and conscience, and Mizu's choice to save Akemi in the final episode is only because she promised Ringo that she would. Because it's the right thing to do. Ringo inspires her to be a better person, and to think outside of her narrow-minded goal of revenge. At the same time, Ringo also brings out the best in Taigen. While at first Taigen had looked down on both Mizu and Ringo ("Half-limb to a half-wit"), by the end of the season, he's proud to have Ringo as a friend and ally, he listens to Ringo's advice ("What would Master do?"), and asserts to the fucking Shogun that Ringo is a worthy warrior to have by his side.

Okay, I've gone on a bit of a tangent here, but my main point is that Mizu and Taigen are incredibly similar. They are equals. They are both flawed, unhealed children who are chasing some impossible outlandish goal in hopes that it will fill the void in their hearts. They also both have a long way to go in terms of character development if they were to ever build a healthy romantic relationship (either with each other, or even with anyone else). So while I believe things will be rocky (because duh, it's a story, we all live for the drama, etc), I think with Ringo's help, they'll get there eventually.

[nullians]

It’s actually insane how fandom in general has become so scared of making weird and dark and ugly works. Like I look at myself and see how I have also subconsciously adapted this instinct to self censor and make things “marketable” and it’s making me want to crawl out of my skin. I need to get weirder and worse and more off-putting hello

[an-ruraiocht]

sometimes self compassion is the opposite of letting yourself off easy. sometimes self compassion means holding yourself to account and demanding you do better which is so much more work than just punishing yourself. making yourself feel bad so that you feel better is a lot easier than putting the work in to actually repair harm and be less shit. it doesn't feel like that when you're down in the self punishment instinct hole and your brain is telling you that you don't deserve not to be hurt but. it's true.

[burnofsacrifice]

Antonio was used to running into the line of fire, or in his case the shoots being fired without care of the consequences. He wore a protective vest meaning on duty he was protected if he ended up in a chase or a shoot out. But due to how sudden that chase was; I wasn’t prepared which is why I ended up in this mess at the hospital. At least the one benefit was I had Sylvie it had given us the push to be together; to admit to ourselves what our hearts wanted. And at her words now, I had to exhale a few chuckles, because the thought of someone having to latch onto the blonde to physically pull her from this bed, was amusing, enough to find my lips quirked into an amused grin. “ It’s cute how you want to be attacked to me, Is it my warm body? Or is that you just can’t resist my charm.” A playful wink leaves his eyes. 

It was nice to relax, in the comfort of her, all the times I thought about calling her, about wanting to witness her voice. And now one awkward near miss with coffee this morning, to now here we were, cuddled up on my pathetic pull of a hospital bed, but she was in my arms which was all that mattered to me in the now. “ From what I recall, I’m the one who drove over to the firehouse for no reason but to make an excuse to see you Sylvie..” Pausing with a bashful expression, because yes Antonio just admitted he didn’t plan on seeing Gabby it was an excuse the oldest excuse in the book just to get a glimpse of the girl he let go, slip through his finger tips. And now she was with him, we decided to give us a go again, I was free to look at her for too long. “ So if anyone should’ve been nervous it was me.” Another wink on his end before his fingers slowly moved along her arm in contentment. 

Hospitals not fun, but he had a night with her to look forward to. He barely listened to the chatters in the hall his focus was Sylvie and it was sweet she liked spending time with my kids. She learned chess for my son, she wanted to get to know them, and for once time was on my side, I didn’t see the kids often but I also didn’t want to rush that thought. “ Let’s focus on us and when the timing is right the kids and  you and I will make plans.” I didn’t want Sylvie to take it the wrong way, but my son was crushed when we split meaning I had to be sure this was an epic thing before i allowed her to hang out with my kids again, careful wins the race right? 

“ I’ll be holding you to that Sylvie Brett.” A echoed of a name a teasing on his lips, an old him that found his other half again.

Continued

@imdueforachange

Relationships were complicated when you spent your days running after criminals. When you were tracking down each move, or risked the chance of being fired at. But Antonio watched the job ruin one relationship of his; obviously his ex wife now. But at the time he never questioned how he fell short because yeah it was the lies, the danger he had accidentally put his kids in, but the love he and his wife once had for each other were no longer there. It was one of those relationships we tried to stay together for the kids; not because we were in love with each other. 

Sylvie and I we had flirted; I told myself it was harmless, for one the blonde was a close friend of Gabby’s and if this blooming relationship went south it might be awkward for all of us. But I had to admit the way Sylvie might me smile, the flutter in my chest each time our eyes met. I knew what we had was something special; I felt torn inside when the blonde decided we needed to break up. Not because we wanted space or time to apart but because of my crazy ex; who couldn’t handle the fact I wanted Sylvie involved in the kids lives, she was a big part of mine. If I had the strength to keep arguing back and forth I would’ve but it felt like a lost cause. A battle I couldn’t possibly win here. 

Sylvie was smart, she wanted to minimax the drama; she didn’t want to be the reason why I couldn’t have rights to the kids. This job was hard; the fight to protect the city. The fight to protect those we loved; it drained you. And my family was one of the rare lights in my days; and Sylvie for now I had to accept our relationship wasn’t meant to work. But we made a vow to stay friends; so I tried to make the best of the situation this morning. I offered coffee and I meant it; I wanted any lame excuse to spend time with the blonde. One I would’ve stupidly followed through on up until I got the call. Seeing as Antonio was in good range, He decided to take on the call; he had ran off in a rush; giving the female one last glance. 

That glance stood with him when he got shot. He knew his luck was running thin, He knew his luck might not work in his favor. Because he had no back up, He ran in with his gun in position; a deal gone wrong. He felt the ache in his chest when his body fall to the ground, except he wasn’t alone. The guy who aimed fire on him landed in a pool of blood not that far from him. Exhale in and out he told himself; as his hand had reached to the ripped wound on his chest, hopefully he was okay. Knowing his team was in fighting distance. Antonio had kept his eyes opened he envisioned Sylvie, and himself; holding hands; one of those last nights on our dinner dates. She laughed over one of the stupid antics her patient did attempting to refuse the care she offered. She was smiling as if she only cared about where we ended up tonight; hers or mine. My heart was hers; but sometimes life doesn’t always work out in our favors. Now being a prime example because I was fighting for my life. I felt the loss of blood; My hand that was laid on the pavement I felt the sticky stains of blood shed on my skin. I heard Kim and Voight; instantly my weaken hand moved to the ground as Kim kept telling me to hang on. Ambo was on the way. Shit I said to myself because more likely to not the ambo on the way was 61. If I had the strength I’d let out a sign instead; I had braced myself as eyes drifted shut. How long? Honestly who knows your guess was better than my own.. I had only flickered darken specs open when I heard her voice. 

Sylvie, I opened my specs to see her; her worried expression spoke volumes to me. A promise I obviously broke. Using any strength I had; he parted lips to speak. “ I think the other guy beat you to it.” A side joke; not funny he knew it but he was trying, Forcing his gaze to end on his sister. “ We’re fighters.” Alert was key; a smile his best efforts as they then moved him onto a gurney; the pain that hit his chest each time he was moved. A loud groan escaped parted lips as he felt the blood dripping still. “ I need surgery don’t I?” Eyes moved between his sister and the woman he loved; and he just hoped after this call he could live the day to tell her.

[jadegiantess]

[sandboxer]

I think Edgeworth would get a lot out of watching formula 1, like both intellectually and sexually

[olymphianblood]

ok guys its not funny anymore when is d&p hard lauching im starting to getting anxious /hj

[traumatizedjaguar]

Abusers will fight, argue relentlessly and they don't see the world from a point of view with self-awareness or they don't see the world from others POVs. Some people just are relentless in being right, start fights with more than just you, trust me, there's multiple other people you'll find they do this with too. They'll jump and make assumptions about you and then proceed to attack and argue with you, but when you try to defend yourself because you know you didn't do something inherently wrong...they will be relentless, this is when it becomes bullying behaviors. Anyone of us if we want to can twist, manipulate or argue that something is bad when it isn't inherently bad at all; but thats where the manipulating your POV in the argument comes from. You'd say thats called having an opinion and in some cases it is, but ti doesn't give the person with an opinion a right to harm you over it or change your POV. They didn't have to engage with you, but they chose to and you have a right to be yourself. These people are rash. Like for example you could be reading up on something you found online, but it doesn't mean you agree with it, but a rash person would assume you're looking at it because you agree with it and proceed to attack you over it...this is bullying. They don't listen to reason. They'll abuse you harder if you try to explain yourself or reason with them. It never works. Try your best to walk away from that type of person and gray rock them.