#my mental state is such a disaster at the moment

[franky-y]

as chaotic as this stream was, it was really helpful at cheering me up after feeling like shit these past few days. i'm seriously grateful for this right now.

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Costume Meta 7x04

How we all doing?? have we managed to find some semblance of equilibrium in this new world where we have canon bi buck?? I’m not sure I’ll ever know how to exist in this world but that’s fine with me! I’m still here writing my silly costume metas and having a blast in this bright new world!

No Hen this week as we never see her out of uniform!

The rest is below the cut because you would all hate me if i clogged your feeds with this beast (shes 7k)- you have been warned!!

Actually going to start this week with a uniform out of work section!

Because three times in this episode, we had one of the firefam wearing an element of their uniform out of work and its actually pretty key!

We have Bobby in his LAFD polo when he informs Athena that Harry is wanted for assault and he fled the state.

Then we have Chim at the basketball game in his LAFD hoodie

And finally Buck at the airfield on his tour with Tommy.

All three are playing into the idea of protecting ones self by being in an official capacity in some way. Firefighters (like all first responders) are of course there to 'protect and serve' the community.

Bobby delivers the news to Athena about Harry - he's in uniform because he can inhabit a small aspect of his captain mentality - makes it easier to deliver the news and also gives him the distance to play the 'don't shoot the messenger' card if necessary.

Chimney has to step into paramedic mode at the end of the scene. The LAFD hoodie separates him from everyone else at the court and foreshadows that he will have to 'go to work' its also about chimney being there as the colleague not the almost brother in-law of Buck. An important distinction - it protects Chim from being seen to favour anyone (specifically from Buck. (Buck is angry and not being rational so Chimney has protection from Bucks potential anger for helping Eddie - Buck is already feeling awful by that point so the protection isn't needed but it provides cover if it were) and allows him to go into first responder mode. (this is so badly worded but I'm sure you get what I mean!!)

Buck is at the airfield under the guise of wanting to find out more about becoming an air support firefighter - its the cover under which he is operating to try and befriend Tommy. The jacket also provides him protection from Eddie when he shows up and finds out Buck is not coming to Vegas with him and Tommy.

Bobby

Just the one costume for Bobby this week - a maroon tee that her's wearing to sleep in. we see him in this colour a lot - its a bit of a staple colour for him and I've spoken a lot about maroon tees and shirts representing parental roles in relation to the various children of the 118. Its no different here -we can see from Bobbys face he isn't buying what Harry is saying and the parental concern we see evidenced here plays out with him calling Michael and finding out what is really going on.

Athena

Athena wears a lot of black this week, which is fairly typical from her, although we are in a much more overall muted palette than usual and its missing the jewel tones we're used to seeing her increasingly wear. its a bit of a signal of returning to normality now they're back from the cruise disaster.

She starts off in black and pink pyjamas but I'm going to talk about those at the end in the pink section so we're skipping ahead to this ruffle smocked cream blouse and her gorgons head necklace is back. the ruffling is an nod to her feathers being ruffled when Bobby tells her about Harry and his arrest warrant, and the white with the black trousers is about things being black and white - for Athena as a cop things do tend to be black and white when it comes to the law - of course Athena has always been one to work within the law to bend the rules but in this moment things are black and white.

Then we have her all in black with a red longline cardigan which has a open weave that give the appearance of mesh or a cage. The show has been using Red since day one which makes sense as it is a first responder show and you literally cannot escape it when the fire trucks are red! But they have always been pretty careful about when they use bright red in the costuming meaning its appearance with such regularity this season so far is pretty telling. Its an advance warning of incoming danger/trouble/strife, but it is rarely worn by the one who is directly in danger - they will be involved, but not the centre of it. The best example of this is Bucks bright red broadcloth shirt when Christopher calls him because Eddie is smashing up his bedroom.

Here we have it on Athena in the scene when things are about to properly kick into action with Harrys story. Athena is literally a red net about to ensnare Harry. its the one time in this episode we see Athena in a bold bright colour - something that generally is attached to her being happy or having fun, but not here.

The denim sleeveless shirt/jacket when Athena goes to the hospital to visit the lady who shot her son (does she have a name - I cant remember!) and later to talk to Harry about the reality of his altercation, is quite bulky and blocky. It's far less fitted, structured or flowy that we are used to seeing on Athena. To me this is about playing into her struggles to tread the line between mother and cop - that neither role fits right. That denim is also a fabric associated with labour, it suggests Athena is working hard to figure it out.

Then we get this all black outfit when she takes Harry to the station - it is such a simple yet effective bit of costuming, especially with the silver zips and buckles- it blends her in with the police officers in the station so she can hover the line between mom and cop - and makes it look like an arresting officer bringing in a suspect.

Harry

New Harry comes with a new style!!

I actually can't wait to see how they dress him over the rest of the season because there was a definite colour theme at play here this week with all the beiges, greens and redish browns which is very not how younger Harry dressed (he was much more bright colours).

Not going to lie - my hatred for the copaganda and the fact I've been in Bi Buck land since the episode aired has made it hard to focus on Harrys outfits in greater detail, but I do have a few thoughts!

This first shirt is a map print, maps denote journey's andHarry is on a literal and metophorical journey - the literal being the one he made form Florida to LA. The metaphorical one is all about his journey to become a man, and learning to take responsibility for his actions, so this shirt is essentially setting out his arc for the season - Makes me feel like the storylines with harry we're going to see are going to be about the community service he has to undertake and him figuring things out and growing up a bit in relation to that.

Then next up we have this cream hoodie with an brownish beige pocket. the thing I found interesting about this choice was the fact that Harry played himself off as innocent. lawyers usually instruct their clients to wear white shirts to court, and to avoid loud patterns. The white is because i suggests purity or innocence, and the loud patterns should be avoided because it suggests you're trying to employ subterfuge (that you're lying). So Harry wearing a block of cream is a play on this idea. We see him in the map shirt before - when he is employing subterfuge about his reasons for visiting, and now this cream is him trying to suggest his innocence to his mother - the use of cream rather than white is telling us that he isn't as innocent as he is making out!

Finally we have check theory (my most beloved) in play. harry returns to wearing patterns - this one check and in greens and browns. there is an element of military to the green shades, its a coloour we've seen used on Eddie to show his military background, but it is also a colour frequently worn by Athena - usually when she is fighting for her family in some way. Here it feels like a refelction of that, with the added aspect of green being a colour of growth. Harry shows contrition and is willing to take his punishement, showing his growth, but also showing his understanding of fighting for his family - and Athenas willingness to do the same. its showing us tht he is his mothers son. And of course the check is the pointer towards the fact he is in trouble - that his earlier protestations of innocence were false!

Then we move on the he Buckley-Hans

Chimney

Only the one for Chimney this week, it's a very short scene where he is completely oblivious to the tone of the conversation. He's dressed completely in greys and is by all accounts neutrally costumed. this is intentional - he's not the focus of this scene and when we think that so much of this episode is shown from Bucks pov, the use of neutral grey makes sense - Buck is projecting on to chimney in this scene. Buck himself is speaking his jealousy and fear, while what Chimney says is actually the little voice inside his head that isn't in fact jealous of Tommy, but is impressed by him

Maddie

Again only two costumes for Maddie this week and one of them is her dispatch outfit, but I'm including it because of its place with a mini colour theme for this episode, which both of her outfits play into.

I spoke about the use of red in Athenas section and its representing danger, and it is in play for both of Maddie's outfits, the wearer changes though. In the first scene, Maddie is in blue - dark blue. a tee with 'The Great School' and bobcat logo on the front. I love this, the bobcat is a symbol of inner strength and resilience in the face of adversity, while Maddie is a great source of learning for Buck - he essentially raised him and has been a sounding board for him since she returned to his life. Maddie is the next level wise older sister, her point of view is important to Buck and is grounding for him. She had got him to back down from his spiral over Eddie and Chris, until Chimney came in (and like I said above, that was Bucks inner voice, not really Chimney)

Then we have her dispatch uniform and its red. This is a clever play actually, it allows the costume team to put Maddie into red, a colour we don't really see on her outside of work (a deliberate choice as it helps distinguish work from non work to the audience). Just like Buck was the angry one in the other Buckley siblings scene, her Maddie is the one who is angry (with good reason) and we again get Buck recieving education at he hands of Maddie - in her place of work where she is a lifeline to people and where she holds authority. Buck needed her in a lifeline capacity in this moment and he got it, despite her anger. She gave him the advice and help he needed.

Eddie

Eddie my man looking suave and confident - this Eddie is Bucks version of Eddie so of course he looks cool, well dressed and in a green and black combo. In nearly every scene where Eddie nad Buck have a deep meaningful conversation - one that gets through to Buck on a higher level - that works on Bucks abandonment complex, Eddie is dressed in a black shirt and khaki green trousers (the only exception is the will reveal when he's in navy blue but that is to play in the yellow blue colour theming and its a close to black as they could have a blue!), this outfit is an inverse though, which is actually really clever. Eddie (Bucks version) here is playing into Bucks fear of abandonment - Bucks version of Eddie has spent so long building him up and chipping away at that fear that to invert that colour theme and have green on top and black trousers is a fun way of inverting that chipping away at Bucks fear - this is putting another brick in that abandonment wall

The black tank top!! Its back and everybody cheered! Ok so I wrote this meta about when the show puts Eddie into a black tank top and how it means he's in an emotionally vulnerable place and once more, the theory plays out. Obviously Eddie gets physically injured, but his face when he looks at Buck after he's gone down shows him emotionally vulnerable. Yes there is a little bit of anger and a lot of pain in the look he gives him, but there is also understanding and a little guilt too.

It's the moment Eddie realises that he has unintentionally sidelined his best friend, and the effect that has had on Buck and his abandonment issues. This is Eddie showing his truly deep understanding of Buck and how Buck ticks (and because this is also from Bucks pov, its also showing us Buck understanding that Eddie understands how Buck ticks) we get all of this proven when Tommy comes over to Bucks later and clearly states that Eddie is feeling bad about the whole situation.

It is also worth noting that When Buck has seen Eddie at the gym or being sporty in some way Eddie has either been in uniform or in a black singlet and that he always looks super competent (even if he is working through things when he is in the black singlet). From my perspective, this is an interesting choice to play into because it suggests Buck recognises Eddies emotional maturity over him, even when he's not in a great place (we can discount fight club Eddie becasue Buck didn't actually see him there), its clearly something Buck admires and places as central to how he sees Eddie.

Tommy

Tommys costuming is chefs kiss perfection to me. The wardrobe department have literally dressed him as Eddie and I am living for it.

Its a way to emphasise that Tommy and Eddie are super similar. this serves two purposes - it builds a visual connection for the audience - we don't need to be shown Tommy in the army or fighting/ training in Muay Thai etc, we can mentally make a connection to the ones we've seen of Eddies in the past and accept the information as fact. obviously not all people who join the army or undertake MMA are going to dress the same, but this is television where visual information is valuable real estate, so playing into tropes and stereotypes is a key piece of arsenal.

The other thing about it is the specific Eddies its calling back to - fight club Eddie and to a lesser extent, post breakdown Eddie when he's back in therapy and unrepressing himself.

Tommys basketball outfit is really about making him stand out from everyone else - it makes him seem to appear more because the blue shorts and the light coloured top will catch your eye, even if he's not the focus of the camera at that moment. This is all about the fact that this is Bucks perspective on things - he is seeing Tommy everywhere and feeling like he's taking over/ taking away Eddie and so we the audience feel that same thing in a visual way. The thing the blue shorts do is visually connect Tommy to buck in the next scene we see Buck in - when he is talking to Maddie at dispatch - the blues are similar enough for us to subconsciously connect back to that scene and link Buck and Tommy together rather than Buck to Eddie - who Buck is dressed more similarly too in the basketball scene.

It doesn't hurt that the blue shorts also play into yellow blue theory - especially against the sunsets yellow hues in a scene that is playing homage to a famously queer coded scene from Top gun.

Then there is this outfit from Bucks loft. again is very similar to an Eddie outfit - its the same style of shirt we often see Eddie wearing especially in seasons 4 and 5.

Tommys jeans have always been reminiscent of Eddies Jeans (I mean I know they are jeans, but I promise the significance will become clear when I get to Buck!)

Even Tommys watch is similar to Eddies Christopher watch (every other watch in the show worn by the men is all black - black strap black face and mount only the Christopher watch is different) in that it has a different coloured strap to the watch face and its mount.

The other thing I want to mention quick, is the progression of Tommys costumes in relation to them being similar to Eddies. By this I mean the first non uniform costume we see Tommy in is very stage 2 Eddie, while the one below is very much more stage 3 Eddie.

I also really like the use of a purple/red/black shot tee for this scene as well. If you watch the scene through, the way its lit changes its colour as different sections of the scene unfold. The red tones are there early on, during the apology and conversation around Eddie being allowed to have more than one friend and Christophers adoration of Buck. it gives it that air of danger lurking, because Tommy isn't sure how things are going to play out. and plays into the red/blue theme we saw with Buck and Maddie in this episode - just on a much lower level.

Then it turns this purplish shade as we move into the initial stages of flirting - from the moment Buck moves around the counter to put himself in the same space as Tommy. It gives things an air of mystery, but purple can also be a colour of enlightenment - both elements are in play here and I love they were able to do this with this shirt.

The shirt turns black at the moment Tommy says 'my attention' - the moment he essentially hold all the cards on making a move - he is the one with the power here (as the already queer person in the room) and black is a power colour, so its the perfect choice for the moment he makes his move.

Buck

Buck my beloved bi disaster. His costumes were doing some pretty impressive storytelling this episode!

We start off at the air field - I spoke at the start about this LAFD jacket and the theme of protection, but I also have other things to say about it and the rest of the costume. We don't generally see Buck out of work wearing uniform (we actually don't see many of the firefam in uniform out of work tbh) so when we do its going to have meaning. T

he thing with the bomber jacket being the choice (they could've made it a hoodie which we've seen him wear out of work more!) is that on one level plays into its name and the fact that its being worn at an airfield, while on another level it low key plays into the Buck cheating arc. which is actually fun - the idea that he's 'cheating' on the 118 by claiming he's thinking about his career options and also cheating on Eddie by trying to befriend Tommy (because at this point that is all it is its only once Eddie appears that things change).

The trousers are also important. I know I've said before about how trousers are less important than tops because they are less likely to get screen time. We not here - here they are really important, but only with the context of the rest of the episode.

These are the short in the leg dark trousers we've come to know and love on Buck - he's been solidly wearing them since season 2 and what we have seen him wearing so far in season 7 so no surprises to see them here. But this is the last time we see them and its super important and telling.

We also have Bucks white trainers - the ones that he wears when he moves forward on his journey - we see him in them the entire time this episode.

Buck and Maddie this episode have a red v blue thing going on in their scenes together. In this one Buck is in red and Maddie in blue. I spoke about the red for danger theme they seem to be using this season for the red clothes above in Athenas section and it applies here - Buck in red is foreshadowing the danger/strife that the basketball game presents as that is what he is talking about and what he is most upset about over Tommy and Eddies friendship.

It's a slightly burnt out red in comparison to Bobbys red shirt from the cruise, Athenas red cardigan, or even the red he wore when Eddie had his breakdown. Its not a full high alert colour, its a more muted and restrained colour - suggesting the danger is going to be less of a big thing, that it's just a part of it rather than the main big thing

We can also see that Buck is now wearing more traditional stonewash jeans - this is the first time we're seeing them on him since Eddies arrival at the fire house. I'll explain them in more detail in Bucks last outfit of the episode, but I needed to point their presence out here.

Basketball Buck in his white shirt and dark blue marl cut off tee - its very Buck posturing at the firehouse gym and its meant to be. Its a direct reference to the last time Buck showed any jealousy towards Eddie. The shorts are different this time in that they're white/light grey rather than black, but I think this is done for two reasons - it creates a pairing with Eddie - they are dressed similarly with dark tops and lighter grey shorts, but on opposite teams/sides.

It also makes him stand out from everyone else at the game - excepting Tommy (and a random guy in a red top with white shorts that I'm living for. When Red = foreshadowing as I've talked about above, this guys actions on the court are precursors of what is about to happen - we see him bump into Tommy - a couple of moments later and Buck does the same thing, then just before Eddie gets taken out by Buck, he gets breezed past by Eddie stumbles and starts limping. Its fun and clever and not something many people will pick up on - its a bit like the role of the bullet in Hamilton!)

Bucks bright blue chunky corduroy shirt with white tee underneath. I already spoke about the visual connection between Tommy from the basketball game and this shirt. It also fits into the red and blue theme I spoke about above - this time Buck is the one in blue and with the combination of Buck in his danger incoming white shirt and Maddie being in red it signals exactly what this scene is going to be about.

The danger, in my opinion, is Maddies wrath at Buck getting physical with Eddie. Its a perfectly valid and important response from her and plays into the growth we get from Buck in this episode that is not connected to his bi awakening - the recognition and acceptance of his bad behaviour in a far more mature way than we saw from s3 Buck.

The chunky corduroy give the shirt vertical stripes and we all know how I feel about Buck and vertical stripes at this point - I wrote about them a lot in my seasons 5 and 6 metas and the blue and white nature of bucks outfit plays into the theming that was at play in early season 6 - where Buck was free from Taylor and resisting buying a couch because he was looking for the right couch etc. (and playing house husband to Eddie nad feeding them!!!)

Here in this episode we kind of have Buck going through a similar process - free from the shackles of death and trying to figure things out - who he is and what he wants, he's still on that hamster wheel in many ways at this point in the episode but he is about to jump off it.

This is the key to happiness and Lev's advice and the year of yes scene 2.0 - the same shade of blue are at play here. Lev figuring it out ('I get it now') just as he's dying and Buck then trying to figure out what Lev had figured out and essentially failing before he died only to now get it and free himself is a blue thread we've been following through season 6 up to bucks death, then the use of this shade of blue in Bucks costumes tailed off - we saw it reappear a couple of times after the lightening strike - specifically around Natalia and his continues flirtation with death - almost like his hovering around death was him trying to grasp what Lev had figured out.

Then the blue had been gone again only for it to reappear here in this episode in a scene that precedes Bucks bi awakening and his comments about being free and 'yeah that works' with their double meanings that play in the same way as lev's 'I think i get it now' just without death coming immediately after. It's a scene when he starts to get an inkling on what his jealousy is actually about. (The fact we know he's going to be back in this bright blue in the next episode in a scene with Eddie - that is very likely a coming out scene also plays into this idea.)

And the stone wash jeans are once more there for all to see!

Then we get this dark navy blue shirt with silvery white dots and yet again those stone wash jeans.

Ok lets talk about the jeans! The fact that we haven't seen Buck wearing stone wash jeans, which if you watch the opening couple of seconds of the dispatch scene, you will see are proper normal length on him and not ankle swingers like we've got used to seeing him in for the last few seasons!

The thing with him suddenly wearing these stonewash jeans is all about imitation - imitation of Tommy (and by extension, imitation of Eddie even though we don't see Eddie in stonewash denim in this episode) because you know that old adage of dressing like the person you want to be , or the idea that you subconsciously start dressing like the person you have a crush one?? Well yeah - Buck has all these new feelings that he doesn't know what to do with, but Tommy is cool and Tommy dresses like Eddie and Eddie seems to like Tommy better than Buck now so maybe if Buck starts dressing a bit like Tommy he'lI get Eddies attention back. So he's pulled out the stone wash jeans so that he's dressed a bit more like Tommy, but he's also dressing a bit like his crush that he doesn't yet realise is a crush.

The other small thing that I think is a nice nod - So Like I said earlier, the last time we see the jeans is in 2x01 - Eddies introduction to the firehouse. This is the moment (on screen at least for us as viewers) that Buck ceases to be the probie - that baton is passed to Eddie, so its almost like a symbol of him graduating and maturing in some way. then we get the jeans back for Bucks bi awakening - we see them the entire time he's navigating all these new feelings he has - he's never been with a man, so he's like a probie again.

The thing is, that the jeans appear to be gone for his date with Tommy (makes sense - he's on a date so he's got to look good for his man!) , and from what I can tell from the (super dark even when brightened) stills from the Buck Eddie loft scene, it would appear they are gone for that scene too. We've had bts of Oliver in the jeans again, so I don't think they're gone completely, but that makes sense, he's still a baby queer after all, still navigating his way through things.

On to the shirt! I wrote a whole meta about this shirt (and the jeans actually!) when we first got this still - you can read it here and I'm still a little awestruck at how close to the mark I got!

What I want to add to what I said, now I have context is that the two previous times we've seen blue shirts with dots are played upon in this scene - the lawsuit is the obvious one and the parallel is showing Bucks growth - he got jealous and worried about being replaced and ended up lashing out and suing everyone, now he got jealous and thought he was being replaced, but as soon as he lashes out, he realises he is in the wrong and verbally acknowledges it.

The diner with Maddie scene is a bit more tricky to parse out, but for me, it ties to Doug - Maddie is quick to call Buck out when he confesses to Eddies injury not being an accident, because of her experiences at the hands of Doug. In the diner scene she is determined to go back to her apartment and her life in the aftermath of killing him - she wants life to go back to normal. In the loft scene Buck is trying to achieve that end too - he's in a new world where Tommy exists as part of his life now (as Eddies friend initially) and he wants to clear the air and move forward - so he's still a part of Eddies life.

I also want to talk about the contrast between this scene and the one where Taylor turns up at his door after the shooting and the difference between being chased and doing the chasing. Its spots v stripes!

Buck is in a similar shirt - short sleeved button up in a dark shade (black) - this one with vertical stripes for the Taylor scene and he thinks he's being chased for the first (ish) time (Abby sort of chased him but he is the one who pushed for it to be a relationship when I think she just wanted a bit of fun and a hook up! so I'm not sure if it actually counts or not). Thing is Taylor only chases him after they've already kissed and when he's then made it clear thats what needs to happen. (as an aside - Natalia does pursue Buck - not romantically, but because he has died - and she is the one wearing vertical stripes

While in this scene he doesn't have to say anything, yes he flirts, but he isn't explicit about what hewants - Tommy is the one who makes the decision to go for it, and so when he genuinely gets pursued, he is wearing dots

Chased verse's doing the chasing - dots v stripes

Then we have the Pink.

Pink is back in full force in 7x04 with it popping up regularly throughout the episode.

I didn't include Athenas pink dressing gown or Bucks pink shorts in their sections because I actually wanted to talk about them here. The context the scenes they were in gave me the information I needed to figure out what I think the purpose of all the pink we've been seeing is.

Lets start with a quick recap of all the pink from the 3 previous episodes then we'll look at the pink from this episode as well as the fact I've already spotted some for 7x05 from the trailer

7x01

Athena's pale pink top in therapy with Frank

Sue at dispatch in a pink cardigan

Christophers pencil is pink when he's sat at his desk - when he reads the letter from Shannon

Marisol in her bright pink strappy top

Lola's Manzanillo outfit is bright pink and white

Norman has pink flowers on his Hawaiian shirt and he later wears a bright pink polo shirt when he's pretending Lola is still with him.

7x02

the woman who is teaching her daughter to drive

the pink roses on Hen's jacket (which I know I said play into the theme of family bonds etc but the pink has a second meaning)

7x03

The cruise ship family nearly all wear pink at various points (grandma and mom are the exceptions)

and now 7x04

We have Ashley C in hot pink at the Bachelor mansion

Athena in her dusty pink ddressing gown (and pyjama pants

The woman who shot her son is in pink

And then there are Bucks pink shorts!

All of these scenes with the pink are scenes about either naivety and or innocence

The pink on Athena is about her being naive about her relationship with Bobby - not recognising that she is nothing to fear about them spending time together.

Sues pink cardigan. Sue's line is about the civilians at risk from the fighter jet - she is representing their innocence

Christophers pink pencil - in that scene his behaviour might be naive (he's a child so of course it is) but it comes from a place of complicated feelings as he does begin to mature - he was the innocent party in the loss of Shannon and he is the one left to suffer.

Lola is naive on the ship about having an affair and thinking she could get away with it and that it wouldn't hurt Norman. She’s also innocent in the plot regarding the bitcoin (or whatever it was)

Norman is also both naive and innocent - not recognising the fact his wife is cheating, for selling up their entire life and he is innocent in the bitcoin plot.

The mother and daughter were innocent in the car crash.

the pink flowers on Hens jacket hint at her being innocent of any wrong doing (from a departmental perspective) at the car accident.

The cruise family are innocent - just in the wrong place at rhetorical wrong time and they are a representation of all the innocent people on the boat who end up in danger on that ship.

I think the Marisol top is an interesting one - it plays into Chris being naïve thinking he can date multiple girls without them finding out. But I also think it’s foreshadowing her naivety in general - I think we might either see her immaturity in some way (perhaps on a date with Eddie) which will prove terminal for her relationship with Eddie. Now we know about this date scene coming up this is possible but it could also end up being about the fact that she is likely going to be an innocent party caught in the crossfire of Eddie unrepressing himself (much in the same way Ana was back in s4/5.

Ashely C's pink dress is a representation of the innocence of trying to find love.

Athena's pink dressing gown is about her innocently and blindly/ naively being excited about Harrys return home to her.

The lady who shot her son is innocent in that her actions were brought about by something out of her control and so she can't truly be held responsible for them.

Then Bucks pink shorts are about his queer innocence and naivety about his feelings the fact that we see them in a scene where Tommy isn’t present, a scene that is meant to inform the audience that his behaviours is all about Eddie and not Tommy - that he’s naively not grasping that part of this internal confusion that he's experiencing.

To add to all of this, we have Marisol carrying a pink bag in the teaser for next week, to me if pink theory is correct then this is playing into the idea that Marisol is naively dating Eddie and that she's going to be an innocent caught up in whatever goes down in that scene (part of this arc) the use of lighter pink here specifically on a handbag is giving me babyish vibes as well (its screaming little girl playing at dress up!). As a quick aside - I am very amused that shes been dressed in a basic black top - she looks like wait staff!

And of course there is Eddies pink ensemble that is connected to either Chims bachelor party or the Madney Wedding. I have no idea what is going to happen in this scene(s) but whatever does go down - place your bets on Eddie being innocent (and or naive!) in whatever goes on - itll be fun to see if I'm right! 🤓

Right 7k later and that is me done for this meta!!! I am handing out the tea, coffee, cake and biscuits (all dietary requirements catered for!)🫖☕️🧁🍩🍪- you've earnt them if you've made it to the end of this monster! Hope you enjoyed reading. i'm off to revel in Bi Buck some more - I can't believe its happened I'm overcome!!! 🩷💜💙

Tagged peeps as always are below!

@theladyyavilee @mistmarauder @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @bewilderedbuckley @spotsandsocks @bewitchedbewilderedbisexual @rogerzsteven @wanderingwomanwondering @oneawkwardcookie @leothill @copyninjabuckley @shammers86 @crazyfangirlallert @missmagooglie @katyobsesses @radiation-run @gayandbifiremenofmine @bi-moonlight @crazyaboutotps @princesschez75 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @sherlocking-out-loud @tommykinarddd @satashiiwrites @lover-of-mine

(if the tags don't work its because people have changed their url (very valid of you!) and I didn't know, so let me know if you want tagging in future in the comments so I can catch the new urls!

[genderhexed]

The most radical act of liberation you can do first and foremost is to gently care for yourself and your body. This on its own is an act of revolution.

When faced with the hatred in the world, especially toward you and those you love, the most radical act to counter that hate is to make the choice to care intensely (or at least, to work toward caring) about your own worth and ability to feel good, regardless of your perceived success, relationship status, ways you were parented, mental health, or any other benchmarks.

Sometimes the best way you can fight fascism is noticing you're thirsty, and getting up to get yourself a drink. Noticing you're holding tension, and breathing into that tension with compassion. Noticing it's pretty out, and going on a little walk to look at some leaves. Noticing you're lonely, and reaching out to a loved one to ask for connection. Noticing you're angry or despairing, and getting up to shake and move your body to help the energy flow through you instead of getting stuck. Doing whatever little acts you can to find feelings of grounding, safety, and joy.

Why?

Because bad shit is going to happen. Bad shit was already happening. Things are going to be scary. Life is an endless ride of both positives and negatives, and there have been a lot of big scary negative threats in our lifetimes. But you can either be confronted with these threats already in a state of fight/flight/burnout, or you can confront these threats in the most resourced state you're able to achieve for yourself.

We can't control what events occur, but we can give ourselves the best chance of being able to roll with them. There is so much strength and sense of control we can gift ourselves simply by deciding that we deserve the best possible choices we can provide ourselves in terms of comfort and safety. I can't control whether a natural disaster hits my hometown again. But I can decide to give my future self the best possible chance at coping with such a threat by building so much love and care into my daily routine that my body believes in a baseline of safety. So that when something happens that makes my body feel unsafe, it has less far to go to get back to that safety.

And these can be really small acts. Small moments of joy add up. Small moments of choosing the kinder option for your future self. Small moments of giving your body the kind of care it deserves; adjusting your seating position, having a nourishing meal, taking a shower, seeking out a hug.

The people that hate us want us to feel despair, feel hopeless, feel unsafe, because it gives them power over us. I rebuke that power. I'm going to feel taken care of and safe as often as I can regardless of what they do. I choose to give that gift to myself. And so I choose a quiet revolution.

[colinthegaycomputer]

Pillow Fort Tickles

(Hi! This is my first tickle fic, so if it like sucks then my bad fellas. Anywho, enjoy!)

Ler: Kinger Lee: Pomni

Today’s adventure had been a disaster. Long story short, Caine had unleashed some absolutely horrific critter into the circus, leaving all of it’s occupants in quite a difficult situation. Ragatha, Gangle, and Jax were hurt, Pomni was shaken up, and Zooble had fucked off somewhere else. Kinger was (surprisingly) the only one left in even a slightly good mental state as he had hidden in his “fortress”.

After what seemed like a good hour or two (to Kinger atleast) after the adventure, he heard a light knock on the pillow that was placed where a door would be. Kinger moved it slightly out of the way and peeked his head out, only to be met with the eyes of Pomni.

“Oh! Pomni! How can I assist you?” He asked, slightly tilting his head to the side.

Pomni looked down, “I was just- uh- wondering if I could- umm..- come in.?” She pointed at the fort.

“Why of course!” Kinger slightly moved aside to make room for her to enter.

The fort was surprisingly spacious on the inside, with a corner dedicated to a few bug enclosures to another corner, visibly comfier than the rest, that Pomni could only assume was meant for resting. Eventually, Kinger’s voice snapped her out of her deep thought.

“Would you like to hear about my bug collection??”

Pomni nodded, watched him pull out a few bugs from seemingly nowhere and then begin his infodump. One thing that Pomni didn’t notice, however, was the bug slowly making it’s way to her side. Kinger, on the other hand, did notice and quickly scooped the bug up, accidentally grazing his hand over Pomni’s middle, making her squeak. He immediately paused and looked up at her.

“What was that??”

Pomni’s face was quickly turning a bright red.

“N-nothing!”

Kinger, didn’t believe a word of that. He repeated his action just to test it. Once again, Pomni squeaked.

“Don’t do that!” Pomni’s face grew redder with each passing second.

“Are you ticklish?”

Pomni didn’t respond. That was enough of an answer for Kinger. He put down his bugs and poked her a few times, making her choke down a giggle or two. She reached out to attempt to stop Kinger and grab his hands, which made Kinger simply push her hands out of the way and continue his attack.

After a few minutes, he decided to up his game. Going from pokes to soft tickles on her stomach. Pomni’s giggles finally started to pour out. She covered her mouth to muffle the noise. Kinger paused for a moment to move her hand before immediately going back to business.

“Don’t silence yourself! I want to hear your laughter!” He playfully scolded.

Eventually though, Pomni was able to regain her control and hold back her giggles.

In order to break the barrier, Kinger began to scribble at her ribs. This provoked a shriek from the poor, little jester.

“WAHAIT!! KIHIHINGERR!!! NAHAHAHAAOO!!”

The chess piece giggled at her as he continued his onslaught for a few seconds longer before letting up and taking his hands away.

“Are you okay??”

Pomni was a tired, giggly mess.

“Mhmmm!!..”

Kinger gently picked her up, took her over to the comfy corner that Pomni had seen earlier, and gently placed her down. She yawned and softly rubbed her eyes, clearly exhausted. Kinger sat down next to her and simply watched. After a few long minutes, she succumbed to her weariness and fell asleep. Kinger sighed.

“Queenie would’ve adored you.”

[itskindofidontknow]

What dreams know about love?

Chapter 9

Dream of The Endless/Morpheus x Love!OFC

Summary: The Queen of Love has grown used to the absence of her husband, the Dream King. After banning her from the Dreaming, they only saw each other when Morpheus summoned her for social or marital duties. He would go decades without calling for her, enamorated by a variety of mistresses. It broke Love's heart. Not that her husband cared. However, after being imprisioned for a century, The Dream King wants to regain his Queen's love. She doesn't believe him, not after centuries of neglect. The question is: Can dreams repair a broken heart?

Tag: Established relationship, arranged marriage, regency romance, eventual happy ending, angst, morpheus is a dick prepare to hate, love is eoster from west germanic mythology, typos are to be expected

TW: Sexual content

Love jumped with the needle poking her skin, pushing her away from her dreamlike state. She had been particularly distracted all day, and not even the witty remarks of the Seamstress or the shy giggles of her assigned dream handmaids made her mind present at the conversation. Probably thanks to the amount of milk from night blooming jasmines she has been drinking. At first, she’d only take it before bed, it gave her a dreamless deep sleep. Offering some peace without twisting in silk sheets all night mentally rewinding and analyzing every interaction with her husband, thinking about different outcomes of different dialogues. It was a never ending exercise that led nowhere.

After the invitation to the Endless reunion arrived, the numbness of the jasmines became a necessity to be used during the day. Morpheus became even more difficult and it led her to such serendipity. Like she was under anesthesia, all that bothered her, couldn’t pass the liquid protection of the milk. Every conversation seemed like a distant uninterested topic, incapable of holding her attention. It would be especially useful in this dreadful dinner she must attend.The sting of the needle made her emerge from the comfortable dreamlike state, back in reality. It was like putting the head out of the water after staying so long under, you don’t remember what breathing is like.”Forgive me, I am quite distracted today”

In front of the trifold mirror in her quarters, Eoster moved slightly in the pedestal, taking a deep breath, showing she was now engaged (even if only for a few seconds) in the conversation. Seeing her reflection, she admired the beaded imperial waist white dress with a low neckline, even the slightest move made it sparkle. The Seamstress was doing the final adjustments of the Lady’s dress for the family dinner at her brother-in-law’s realm. “Nothing to forgive, my Lady Love, you just lost a little weight.” The handmaids exchanged a knowing look and the brunette observed the ancient entity, who was quick with her needlework.

Only for a few hours in the Dreaming and the Seamstress already knew. The way the woman spoke, with a hint of pity, the Seamstress could see right through her. She wanted to defend herself, to argue that she didn’t “lost weight” which was a polite and very court-y like to say that a lady or lord changed for the worst. They were unhappy, depressed, melancholic. Different from the young maiden she dressed centuries ago. Of course Eoster didn’t take into account the vast experience in seeing failed marriages . ‘Bigger the marital disaster, bigger the wardrobe’ the Seamstress always used to say to her protegés.

And Lady Love had more clothes and garments than a lifetime of events.

All the Endless would be present at this dinner, and as Dream’s wife, she was expected to come. Neither of them was thrilled to spend an entire evening sitting side-by-side, enduring Desire humorous glances, double-meaning questions and condescending comments or Delirium’s never ending topics that always end up in uncomfortable inquiries or remarks.

One moment she is talking about ice creams and somehow it jumps to “ Brother why you never kiss Sister Love? Isn’t that what love is?” or “It’s just like Brother when Sister Love touches him” describing someone having an electric shock, referring to how quickly a mortal could snap away their hand.

The bearable ones were Lady Death, who was always very kind to Love, and in the beginning of their marriage even came to visit the newly wed couple in the Dreaming. Lord Destiny, who was not much of conversationalist but could stir the direction of the conversation, sometimes saving the couple from uttering embarrassment, and Lord Destruction. Who was a touchy subject between the couple, thanks to an ill comment by Aunt Primness, excused as usual, by Aunt Temperance. Not that Morpheus forgave Aunt Prim. Not that Aunt Prim asked for forgiveness.

It happened during The Second Harvesting’s celebration, which are among Love’s favorites festivities. Decorations in orange and earthy-like tones, the smell of ripe apples and pumpkins, but most importantly, she loved it as a festivity for dancers. All night: Country dances, cotillions, minuets, boulangers and quadrilles. When she was a maid, Love used to dance until her shoes were worn out.

That was, of course, before. Now, Lady Love, accompanied by her husband, was sinking in a chair by his side, not holding her wishful sighs seeing everyone else partake in a dance. Unfortunately for Love, Dream didn’t show any interest in dancing. She didn’t even know if he actually knew how to, since she couldn’t remember seeing the Lord of Dreams ever take any lady or lord to one. Even if they were at odds, as usual, Eoster was always inclined to do as her dear Jane wrote in one of her books: ‘Dancing. Even if one’s partner is barely tolerable’. But Morpheus didn’t seem like the type to have read Jane Austen.

Love had her hands crossed in her lap, resting against the bright orange fine columnar silk skirt embellished with a lace pattern that covered the entire dress. Although it was long, it didn’t trail on the floor, as some of her dresses. The empire waist, low neckline and bare neck made her bosom a bit more apparent but not improper for a queen. In her hair, ribbons entwined her curls, in a variety of warm autumn colors that tickled her neck and her short puffy sleeves brushed against her husband’s satin black attire, very similar to the one he would use regularly, only in a different refined fabric.

The Endless did not pay much attention to his wife, as usual. They paraded around, doing the required social agenda, and ended up sitting side by side at their designed table. The raven haired king’ eyes scramble through the crowd. Since their arrival, he seemed to be expecting someone else, at first she thought it could be his siblings, but after he denied when she asked, she knew exactly who he was looking for.

And the minute he found her, he would give his wife some rushed mediocre excuse and leave her with her wine. At least he wouldn’t count the glasses and endlessly complain about her drinking. ‘I will stop when my king gives me a reason to.’ she once said to him while intoxicated.

“Looking for someone, Prince of Stories?”

And that was when the evening started to go south.

The Aunts were barely seen in any parties, they weren’t the oldest entities but certainly were one of the proudest. And for some reason, everyone always tiptoed around them. They were rare to see in events, usually preferring to receive a few selected guests in her realms. Which made them even more of an attraction when they came to one.

Aunt Primness had her dark blond hair in a tight updo with a delicate diamond tiara and earring and necklace matching it, her bangs meticulously divided side by side with an airbrushed finish, her light green eyes deadly-stared at Morpheus with disdain. She wore a beautiful purple silk brocaded dress, with a low neckline, short sleeves and complemented with long white sleeves that reached her elbow. She looked older than the couple, even if she was younger. “Aunt Prim!” Love was quick on her feet, giving the lady one kiss on each cheek, without breaking eye contact with the husband.

Aunt Prim knew Morpheus was looking for Calliope and any excuse to flee away as quickly as possible. She despised him for making Love miserable, feeling that one of her favorite entities was far too melancholic and apathetic, perfectly aware that its source was sitting broodling right beside her. “Love!” The soft voice, one step behind Aunt Prim, revealed to be Aunt Temperance, a kind woman, with delicate features. She was the complete opposite of Aunt Prim, although the two were inseparable. Even in the way they dressed.

Contrasting to the purple attire, Temperance was wearing a floor length silk dress in a pastel yellow color and a princess silhouette, the fabric was covered in white damask pattern, which made her even more like a sunshine with her bright red hair, elegantly pulled in a updo with pearl pins scattered through it and her short bangs making a curly front. She had a calm smile, but a warm hug.

As everyone said: One is kind but not clever, the other is clever but not kind. And one look was enough to tell each one was it.

Love greeted both of the Aunts as her husband did the same, with a polite but distant nod, ignoring Aunt Prim’s question. “Please, join us.” She politely invited, even if her husband gave her a side condemning eye, he knew she couldn’t send both of them away, it would be terribly inappropriate. “Are we expecting someone else?” Aunt Prim asked, while fixing her dress after sitting down. Love began to answer, but the aunt interrupted her “Are we, Prince of Stories?” Aunt Temperance felt the tension rise and tried to change the subject “Lovely celebration isn’t it? Prim, didn’t you say something the other day about how the Second Harvest was the only festivity worth coming for?”

A staring contest began between Aunt Prim and Morpheus, as her husband gave her a short “No.” as answer. To which the old woman opened her mouth making a “Ah!” as that settled the subject, ignoring Aunt Temperance, who was still going about the festivity. “Such wandering eyes, especially when your Queen is right beside you.” Love grinded her teeth, stiffening her posture “Aunt Prim…” She quietly pleaded, looking over her lashes to the woman, already feeling hard to breathe.

The blonde woman turned to Temperance talking as she was remembering a fun fact, a nostalgic memory. “Do you remember, Temp, when Love was still a maiden, how many suitors would fall at her feet, just for a quick glance from hers? I remember her hiding in the corners and balconies trying to catch some air. Pleading us to not tell a soul where she went. Her dance card would be filled by this hour and her feet thorn by the dancing.”

Love blushed in embarrassment, looking anywhere else but to Morpheus and the Aunts. Prim was trying to imply that her husband should feel lucky to even have her by his side. Temperance looked over the King, who shifted in his seat. Morpheus tolerated Aunt Temperance but Aunt Prim was unbearable. She overprotected Love, who did not need any protection, and had been a pain in his life since Love and him got married.

It seemed to be her favorite passtime to torture and embarrass him.”My wife was indeed very popular.” It wasn’t a compliment as he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “You don’t have to-“ Love mumbled and stopped as her husband gave her another side eye capable of freezing souls.

The Aunt didn’t seem to understand that he was stuck in the same miserable life as Love. More than that, she didn’t know that Love was responsible for her own misery. But Prim only saw that he was romantically involved with Calliope and that they shared a child together. Primness was beyond repulsed by this. Especially when she knew Eoster for being devoted to all her duties, realm and subjects, and a proper lady, which was a rare combination these days. Prim took the queen’s pains as hers, and different from most, she wasn’t afraid of politely making Dream remember who he was married to.

The most offensive of his crimes and what made Aunt Prim (who usually would avoid meeting with the king she had no respect to) to approach them was his wandering gaze. She knew many mortals with that same look on their face, looking for their mistresses while his wife was right there beside him. Maybe he indeed needs a lesson of good morals.

Calliope would be a sight to calm his heart and ease his pain, a brief moment where they could be together and pretend he doesn’t share a soul with another. He wanted to take her to those events, dance with her, whisper dark desires he wanted to do with her after, having to settle for caressing her soft tight under the table, drawing circles in her delicate skin, seeing her lips parted letting a small whimper of want escape. He wouldn’t have to meet behind locked doors, and worry about a bored wife that seemed to want to be anywhere else but with him.

It wasn’t forbidden to take a mistress or a lover after a True Marriage, but it certainly wasn’t seen with good eyes to other entities. Some of them, like Aunt Prim, were really fond of Love, and tolerated Dream because of her. They couldn’t defy him because of his Endless status, being more powerful than most, but found his choices appalling. Especially since Love, as an anthropomorphic manifestation of the four loves, outrank Calliope as a muse. They preferred as minimal contact as possible. Morpheus did not find this a problem at all. He had his duties to attend, not needing to waste time at parties with dull companions as his wife liked to indulge so much.

“You used to love to dance, my sweet darling.” Prim signed and Love raised her eyes to watch the pity in the Aunt's eyes. She opened a fake smile, taking a sip of her wine, before continuing. “I still adore dancing, Aunt Prim. Tonight, we are leaving the dancing to the young ones. Tomorrow, Morpheus and I have quite a day, our feet need rest.” A perfect crafted lie, she looked over to Morpheus, looking for approval as she awkwardly reached for his hand over the table, feeling he stiffened under the sudden touch. A very on-the-face gesture to show her Aunts that they were fine.

Her “busy day” in the morning would consist of doing the same things she did everyday, answer letters from the Garden, drinking wine, wonder through the empty hallways, tender her garden at the palace, maybe if she was lucky, The Corinthian would pass by and indulge her by telling about his day or maybe she would just drink wine until the handmaids woke her up to take her to a warm bath. If they add perfumed oils, later Morpheus would summon her to bed, if not, she could sleep or die that no one would care.

“What a lucky prince you are, Dream with such a thoughtful wife.” Aunt Prim poke. “Excuse me” Everyone looked up, and never Morpheus and Love were so relieved by an interruption. The tall broad red haired man, Lord Destruction, made himself present, Love bowed her head lightly as did the Aunts. “It was about time! Go on, my sweet child, your feet will forgive you for one dance” Primness gesture toward Love, as she needed to quicken her pace. The couple and the brother-in-law looked confused at each other. As none of them moved, Primness made herself clear “Lord Destruction clearly came to take you for a dance, my dear, seeing that his dear brother felt indisposed. What a considerate brother-in-law! Blessing for your intentions, my Lord” Prim even sounded genuinely relived.

Love felt heat reaching to her cheeks, and gulped. She liked her brother in law, but he was known to be a terrible dancer, and Love liked her feet too much to have them crushed. She could also see that smirk on the Aunt’s face, and Aunt Temperance looked as confused as the rest. “But he didn’t-” Aunt Prim raised Aunt Temperance’s glass to her eye level “Drink your lemonade, Temp, your throat is dry.” Dismissing and cutting the redhaired that thought for a moment before taking the glass. Hydration was important to Lady Temperance.

What was the Aunt planning? Crushing Love’s feet? Over a dance? Just because she didn’t partake in her passtime of poking Morpheus with a short stick? For the love of the Garden! The old hag wasn’t the one going to bed with him and having to deal with his moods!

“If, of course, Lord Morpheus doesn’t mind.” Aunt Prim never called Morpheus ‘Lord’. She was definitely into something, almost tempting Morpheus to deny the request. “Of course not. My Lady, If your heart desires, you may dance. You don’t need my permission to do so.” She nodded, hesitantly getting up and grabbing Destruction’s arm and walking away from the group. The brother still looked confused, not knowing how searching for his little sister ended up with a dance with his small almost feather-like sister-in-law. Neither of them however, have the guts to protest the old woman.

“Don’t get me wrong, Love. I would’ve asked you to dance, if I knew you wanted to, but I was just looking for Delirium and” She interrupted him, before he could tangle himself in excuses that weren’t necessary. “No need to excuse yourself, my lord. That was just Aunt Primness being Aunt Primness. Doing some scheme to get me away from my husband, so she could torture him freely.” Both of them arrived at the center of the ballroom, along with other couples, waiting for the instruments

“Is that who she was? It is true what they say then.” Love raised an eyebrow questioning, and Lord Destruction looked to the sides, as Aunt Prim could have ears everywhere “She does get you to do things that you had no intention in doing and make you feel like it’s your obligation.”

Love chuckled, it was the first humorous conversation she had since…Well, a long time. “Is dancing with me such a terrible burden?” She teased, holding a smile, faking an appalled expression. She could see his face becoming red, terrified he might have offended her. How can someone be the personification of destruction, something that causes so much pain to mortals, be such a kind soul? “N-No! That was not, what I-” Love laugh, a laugh that could make flowers blossom “I am terribly sorry. I couldn’t resist a small tease”

Destruction shook his head, responding with a small chuckle. He never saw his brother’s wife laugh or tease, let alone make jokes. She usually was, at least in the few occasions he saw her, quiet, politely answering only what was asked, always with her head down, and innocent eyes looking over her lashes, constantly looking for approval from Dream.”If I may, I don’t think Primness send you here torture my brother. I think she wants revenge against you.” Love was beautiful, one of the most, if not the most, stunning entities he’d ever seen. It was impossible not to notice. Of course he had noticed before, at the dinners, but she was often gloomy, her beauty dulled. Not the vibrant woman with a lightened smile he was seeing. Destruction could understand and even admire the courage some entities had, even after her marriage (one must be completely insane to want something, in this case, someone, that was Dream’s.) to keep faithfully waiting for a chance to even talk to her.

“Me? What could I possibly have done against Aunt Prim?” It was his time to tease. “Not you. Your feet. Only someone wanting revenge on one’s feet would send them to dance with me.”

Both of them laugh. “Well, thinking about it, some new feet wouldn’t be a bad idea. Mine's always been a bit too flat ” She joked right before the music began.

-----------

Love thought it would be worse. But turns out, for someone the size of Lord Destruction, he was quite a skilled dancer. They spliced a boulanger into a cotillions, two minuets and even one quadrille. When they were beginning to prepare for the next dance. Someone tapped her dance partner's arm. It was Morpheus. Immediately Love started to fumble with words, having completely forgotten the time. “Forgive me, husband. You must be exhausted. I should-” He interrupted her, turning to his brother “May I have the next dance with my wife?” He especially stressed the “wife” part. Destruction didn’t seem to catch that, nor the fluster in Dream’s face.

“Of course, brother. You arrived just in time. Lovely night, Love.” He bowed, kissing her hand. Dream barely let him kiss his wife's hand, taking upon his own. Leaving the couple, but not the ballroom as he had a special request to the musicians.

Love didn’t see this, as she was occupied trying to read her husband. She was glistening and flushed, smiling, even some curls were loose. A disheveled appearance. It angered him. The thought of it. He never, indeed, thought about it, it shouldn’t bother him. But the moment the old hag Primness said it, the moment she suggested it, her appearance boiled his blood, as he now could see it in not so innocent sceneries.

He had an extra marital affair, yes, but it was a relationship, before he was married, he didn’t find a mistress after. Calliope was his wife in the true meaning of the word, his confident, his friend and his lover. It could barely be considered disgraceful behavior. Love and him shared an eternal bond, a trap he wasn’t convinced she didn’t scheme with Desire. The solitude he condemned her, was a light punishment for forever keeping away from his true love. He did worse with Nada, and she did nothing like Love did.

He didn’t love Eoster. He couldn’t love or trust her. Even if sometimes it was more difficult than he made it seem. She had every quality of a queen, an eagerness to be useful, the perfect balance to his strict and ruthless rule, empathic, kind and understanding. She cared for his creations and his realm as it was her own. And through lustful lens, it was also impossible to deny how her body also felt sinful perfect against his own, it wasn’t difficult to seek release when Love received him so well, her perky breasts moving with each thrust, her flushed complexion, curls sprawled in the mattress, he could hear the light whimpers every time he relentlessly pushed inside her. She never seem to enjoy it, since he made no effort to make it pleasant to her, but she didn’t protested or denied him.

Morpheus knew from their first night, she expected something entirely different. Not a marital duty between sheets, but a love making out of the most passionately beautifully written books.

It was a challenge not to fall in love with her. He was certainly that was the reason Desire choose her to conspire with. His sibling was very aware that he was a devoted and passionate lover, that did anything to make his companions happy. If he felt for Eoster’s charming ways, he would blindly follow her and she and Desire would take complete advantage of it.

It was way to protect himself. She wouldn’t succeede in making him fall for her, if she found him completely unfazed by her charms. It was also a punishing for her alliances. A hell of her own choosing. And maybe knowing this was why she never protested his callings to his chambers.

He never looked for her out of desire. He went to her, because she was there and Calliope wasn’t.

He always thought that if Love wanted to finally give in to one of those extensive letters she constantly received from frustrated suitors, she could. She didn’t have to pretend to be a faithful wife that loved her husband, and was the only moral saint between them. In fact, this angered him, for he knew her true intentions. If she choose a lover and it didn’t get in the way of her duties, she had his blessings. Maybe it would even make her more tolerable.

At least he though this, until Aunt Primness actually suggested it.

During their second dance, the table could clearly see Destruction and Love, laughing, happily dancing, both following the steps as it was as natural as breathing. At first, when Prim suggested the dance, he thought the old entity only wanted to provoke him, without Love making pitiful excuses. But she didn't, keeping quiet, lazily moving her fan, letting Temperance fill the silence with polite small talk about the Second Harvesting.

Aunt Prim sent Temperance to get more glasses of lemonade for both of them. “Behave” she sternly told Primness, who gesture in dismissiveness. “It is so good seeing Love smiling again. That smile can melt snow, make birds sing and flowers bloom. Don’t you wish you could see that everyday?” She signed moving lazily her purple fan.

Morpheus didn’t reply, not freely walking into one of her traps. Continuing looking at the dance, well, not exactly watching it, but distracting himself, taking some opportunities to scan the room looking for his lover. “They do make a dashing couple.” She finished her glass of wine, raising to the king “A true couple”. That caught his attention, as he stared at her, his eyes cold as ice, not believing in what she was saying.

Primness, the Aunt of moralism and austere views of living. His cold stare should’ve been a warning to Prim to stop that nonsense. Not that she cared. “You should consider supporting their affection. Love has been the most graceful to you, enduring your affairs and its products." By ‘products’ she meant Orpheus. Prim never said his name, finding it obscene just acknowledging him. “ Some others, would have the mistress' head in a stake by now, and their offspring, drowned. It is only fair if you offer her the same courtesy.”

The moment she finished it, Morpheus felt offended by it, ready to get on his foot, grab his wife and drag her out of there, never to go to another one of these stupid celebrations ever again. But, seeing her dazzling between dancers, he took a moment to consider. She looked happy. His brother also seemed to be enjoying her company. Love could fulfill her duties, but she wouldn’t be moping around, sighing, constantly begging for attention. For the first time in forever, Primness gave him a useful idea.

He was certain Love would be good for Destruction, she would be attentive, and caring, having someone to lay all her love, someone to talk to, someone to laugh with, and that would listen to the futilities of the Garden. His brother probably would also be intrigued by having someone different than him, a delicate porcelain skin flower, someone patient who could calm his nature, introduce him to the variety of the arts Love was well versed in.

“Just have to be cautious. After all, a child of love and destruction would not be good for anyone.” Prim mentioned it as she was talking about the weather. That stinged Morpheus in a place he hadn’t considered. Carnal pleasure.

Encourage their affections, wouldn’t lead them to just be friendly, platonic lovers. Eoster would be his mistress and Destruction would be her lover. The air shifted. Morpheus paid close attention to their dance, hyperfixated in the couple, feeling his breath becoming erratic by their proximity.

The way her delicate fingers pressed his brother's large arms, small squeezes she gave as the dances progride. Morpheus started to imagine those same delicate nails digging in his brother back, letting red marks all over his back, as he would take her, filling her with pleasure. Skin flushed as now, glistening with sweat running through her ribs, her breasts just like in the dance, lightly brushing against his large torso, but without any piece of cloth separating them, his hand probably covering entirely her breasts and she would scream in pleasure as he squeezed them. He would hover over her, covering her entire small frame, she would throw her arms around his neck, pushing him closely, hungry for his lips, guiding him in a deep kiss, letting him take complete control, feeling something she hadn’t in centuries: Desire. A man that actually desires her as her own, not using her as replacement, a man that would worship every inch of her skin.

Destruction would give her those love making from the books, preparing her body, tasting the nectar that dripped from her core, while working his tongue inside her, arching her entire body, feeling an unbearable heat, having to be hold down by the waist. Love was extremely reactive, she would give a show, but not to Morpheus, to his brother. She would cry his brother's name, dripping from her mouth like a prayer.

She would not whimp, she would loudly moan, looking at him with stars in her eyes, lips swallowed and parted trying to get air, as she was doing during the dance. He would add fingers to stretch her, sensing if she would be able to take him, telling how good she was, whispering the most sinful praises, confessing all that he would do to her, making her wetter, while working on her bundle of nerves, bringing her to an edge. Love will think it was never like this with Morpheus. Love would jerk herself toward Destruction, craving for friction, to feel his hard member dripping with precum touching her inner thigh, legs wrapped around his waist, feeling the tip against her entrance as he position himself to slide inside her warm wet entrance, that invites him so eagerly, her walls clenching around nothing in expectation. It wouldn’t be uncomfortable as it always was with Morpheus. She wouldn’t want to lay with her husband anymore, and Dream would not be able to blame her.

The way her body felt perfect underneath him, how she stretched and clenched around him, almost making him come in an instant. It would feel perfect underneath his brother, she would not avoid his gaze, as she avoids Dream, she would dwell in Destruction’s gaze. He would never command her to lay on all fours, as he would take her from behind, trying to picture she was someone else. He would never dare to think about another woman’s while inside her. Not like Dream. Destruction would sully her insides with his seed, he would claim her mouth as his. His brother would, as everything he touches, completely destroy his wife.

Morpheus might have been her first, but Destruction would be the one she loved.

He could already see, how his brother would make mortals fight in her name, declare wars to whoever happened to displease her. If he even imagined that Dream was making her unhappy, that he was the reason she copious cries to sleep, that she was unloved and neglected. Destruction may even forget that he is family.

Those images in his head, made him indescribably jealousy, the idea of someone else touching her, someone else seeing her in ways only Dream’s eyes had, someone else occupying her thoughts, boiled inside him and culminating with seeing his brother spin her in his arms in the air as she laughs, right before putting her gently on the ground and she stumbled, falling in his arms, chest glued to chest, faces closed. “Excuse me” He got up quickly, ignoring any protests against unpolitness that Prim might’ve done, making his way through the crowd of dancers, as they clapped to the end of the music.

Little did he know, that she merely follow him with her eyes. A smirk spouting in her face. “What did I miss? Where is Lord Morpheus?” Aunt Temp said it, clueless of what just happened. “Being sensible for once.” Prim said as she took a sip of her lemonade with a mischevous look to Temperance “Oh, Primness, what did you do this time?” Temperance shook her head already knowing Aunt Prim executated one more of her well crafted naughty plans. “Sometimes even an Endless need to be reminded that all they have, can be easily lost.” The red haired woman shrugged taking a sip of her own bevarage, but couldn’t help a small smile.

“Is there something wrong, husband? We can go if you desire to. I am a bit weary.” He glanced at her, she was genuinely concerned, as his behavior was out of character “I saw how weary you were.” He said in an accusatory tone. She frowned, what in the garden's name her husband was upset about now? Laughs? Fun? Does he hate happiness too? He cleaned his throat, trying to sound reasonable “ I saw how tired you seemed, and thought that maybe my brother was too avid of a dancer. And maybe you need a more serene partner” She nodded, not believing in his explanation.

As soon as the violins begin, she recognized as the Waltz of Lovers. Her husband wouldn’t want to dance that. “It’s a waltz, husband, if you-” He interrupted her, by offering his other hand “Shall we?”

And they danced.

Morpheus and Eoster synchrony was beyond perfection, the other couples cleared the center of the ballroom, dancing to the sides. The effortless move, their feet seemed to barely touch the floor, it was mesmerizing. Love never thought it would be so easy to dance with her husband, they seemed to be made for one another, swiftly, delicately and smoothing dancing in each other's arms, trusting each other’s steps, Love gracefully accepting being guided by her husband. If there was a light candle in Morpheus' hand, the flame would not have extinguished during the whole dance, it wouldn’t even flinch. They were perfect partners that every single entity applauded in the end.

Before, however, Love could drop her husband’s hand, after receiving the praise, he pressed her into his body, and passionately kissed her, holding her by her waist. At first, she was in such a state of shock, she didn’t move, it took only a few seconds but to her it was a noticeable eternity, everyone could tell, until she closed her eyes, and let him slide his tongue into her mouth, throwing her hands over his neck. His grip tightened around her waist, and he pressed her further in his body. Their audience applauded louder.

“Husband what has gotten into you?!” She said it as soon as they were back at the Dreaming, not long after their dance. He walked in front of her, in a quick pace, not saying a word, and Love had to hold her skirt to run after him. “I told you before.” Love rolled her eyes. “Not the dance, that kiss.” He stopped putting his hand behind his back and turned to her. “What about it, my lady?” She knew he was faking his calm manner, he was flustered in anger, and she had no idea of what Aunt Primness could have said that left him like this.

She blushed, looking at the floor, not beliving he would made her say it, but trying to make it as rational as possible “ You never kissed me in such a manner, my lord. It’s not that it didn’t please me to have your affection. But it was inappropriate.” He widened his gaze. “ Inappropriate! Pray tell me, wife, is it appropriate to be covered in sweat and completely disheveled while dancing with my brother?” She was taken aback by his enquiry. Both of them were staring at each other.

Love might not understand her husband, but she was well versed in that feeling. The conflicted look behind his eyes. It was too familiar. She’d seen in a thousand men and women. “You are jealousy”. She said not believing the words that came out of her mouth. A gasped laugh came out of her throat, before she taped her hand over her mouth. “Forgive me, I…” She laughed again. Not because it was a funny fact, but she couldn’t believe in it. Morpheus jealous, of her of all people? Oh and people still say that marriage becomes dull after the first century together.

“You are jealous of me. With…Your brother? Is that it?” Dream turned his back mumbling “ I will talk to you when you regain some sense”. She went after him, continuous with the subject, ignoring his mumbles. “Did Aunt Primness put those ideas into your head? Husband, you know she is just vexing you.” She stopped “Besides, I would never partake in any affair, I am devoted to our marriage, even if you choose to punish me with it.” He turned facing her shaking his head in disagreement and spiteful answering “ You are drunk” Love rolled her eyes, enjoying his embarrassing far too much “ Maybe, but I can be passed out and still recognize a jealous man by miles.”

Morpheus for the first time in a long time of marriage, didn’t feel the need to have the last word.

----------

Every since that day, Love kept ruminating the night over and over again, especially a few days later, when none other then Lucienne, asked her if she was having trouble sleeping, and Love lied, telling no, the librarian told her that the king was probably worried, because he asked her to scan through her dreams.

Love was surprised but not furious. For the first time, and how she loved that feeling, she had the upper hand, and her husband was struggling to regain control. The night blooming jasmine milk came to her as a cruel prank. Her husband was interested in her dreams, wasn’t he? Probably looking for signs of secret desires for his brother. Well, she would put up a challenge, not dreaming at all.

She could sense his moodiness with her dreamless sleep. And of course he didn’t question her, for he knew it would be an odd to take such interest in her sleep, when he didn’t even share a bed with her. Also to say he knows she is not dreaming, is to deliberately say he is spying her sleep. He needed to silently wait for her dreams. Or he would have to confess his jealousy over her.

Love prayed he would let something slip so she could call him immature and delusional for thinking she would have anything with his brother. Condemning him for thinking so lowly of his own wife, wishing to say that she wasn't like him, looking for comfort somewhere else because she couldn’t commit to her husband. Also, did he even stopped to actually think about that ludicrous ideia? From all those tempting letters she received, did he think she would take another Endless as her lover? She was a lady for love’s sake! Besides, one Endless was enough.

When both received the invitation to his family reunion, it was when she started to drink the milk during the day. Her husband’s mood got significantly worse since they received the letter. and the closer they get to the date, the worse it got. All the Endless siblings would be there. That included not only the ones both Morpheus and Eoster liked such as Death, Destiny and Delirium, but Desire, Despair and poor Lord Destruction, who definetly wasn’t expecting what was coming.

@secretdreamlandmentality @littlemoistcarrot @lokigirlszendaya

[elizabethwydevilles]

Star Wars fic recs

So I've actually had a fic rec page for... a while ahem but I never actually got round to actually telling anyone. So... here's 8 fics from my faves. The crème de la crème, so to speak.

Antediluvian by @space-asparagus

A Padmé-centric look at the strain and worries of a secret marriage during war time, explored through civic infrastructure. A truly delicious Padmé.

Madhouse Promenade by @husborth

No one does gothic Darth Vader like husborth, and this is some of husborth's best. In progress, but the 2 chapters that are up are amazing.

Playing the Lyre by @husborth

Good Mace and Anakin fics aren't the easiest to find, but this one knocks it out of the park. I really don't want to spoil but the conversation they have starting from Mace saying he is not calm? Makes me want scream in the best way.

now i want my letters white again by @ozvezdja

Love isn't a magical fix but it matters that it's there, is how I'd describe the Anakin/Padmé relationship in this fic. Tonally it hits perfectly - it doesn't shy away from how mixed up Anakin's mental state is, but it always feels like there is hope; hope you can truly believe.

Every Moment Points Toward the Aftermath by @hinerdsitscat

Anakin and Obi-Wan are a disaster, but in a way that ends reasonably well for once. Humourous fic tends to be very hit or miss for me; this one is a definite hit.

hold you with my left hand by crucifixion

The atmosphere of this fic is spot on; you can feel the stillness and humidity of Naboo in the late summer. A really lovely look at Anakin/Padmé just after their marriage.

masterpiece, not mistake by lettuce_mouth

Actually an AU of an AU, but I don't think you need to read the original AU to grasp this one shot. If you're a sucker for the Leia and Anakin dynamic, this grasps their complexities so well.

Proposed Legislation by Anonymous

Padmé and Palpatine do politics not long before RotS, and, as you can imagine, what isn't said is just as important as what is.

The rest of my fic recs can be found here.

[thisonegirl]

Goodbye, Dabi

pairing : touya “dabi” todoroki x reader rating : sfw warnings : mentions of death, implications of suicide and homicide wc : 1.8k (edited) part I part II part III

She knew it.

As Y/N stood frozen in place, shocked at the image on the screen just like the other nurses and elders in the home, she thought ‘I knew it’. He had found Dr. Ujiko, he had found Shigaraki and worst of all he had found All for One. She knew it would be a disaster. In that moment she couldn’t help but blame herself for being such a blabbermouth and mentioning the doctor around him, especially when she already had reservations concerning him and the character he had developed. 

Now, here he is. Becoming everything I had feared.

The gasps of disbelief filled the room as Touya revealed his identity and affiliations. The League of Villains. The name wasn’t unfamiliar nor were a few of the members within it. 

She had met Shigaraki when they were little. Mostly in passing as he wasn’t in the home with the rest of the kids but she could vividly remember when Dr. Ujiko took her to meet All for One. The evilness within him radiated off his body like waves and chilled her to the core. He had wanted to meet her because of her quirk. One he deemed useful for his cause. She remembered the frail looking white haired boy, she took notice of his little twitches and his empty eyes and couldn’t help but pity him while wondering if she’d become such a shell if she accepted his offer.

She remembered how annoyed- and quite frankly, scared - Dr. Ujiko had been when she refused All for One’s invitation to join him and his protégé, Shigaraki, in their quest. As they left, he told her she was lucky to have left unscathed AND with her quirk. He explained to her who All for One was and how his quirk functions. By the end of that explanation, she agreed with the doctor that she indeed was lucky. That encounter had her doubting everything and everyone she had ever known. They had all been raised for the sole purpose of becoming All for One’s sheep. She couldn’t believe someone as kind and caring as Mr. Sunny has been affiliated to such a cause. Dr. Ujiko, however, was more believable.

She knew then that she didn’t want to be around Dr. Ujiko more than necessary, and that she didn’t want the children back home to have this same path as an option as she wasn’t so sure All for One would be so kind as to let another rejection pass by unchecked.

That was when she made the decision to leave. Luckily enough, Dr. Ujiko and Mr. Sunny let her leave with a few of the children, and though it seemed like an action of uncharacter-like kindness, she knew they were the ones they deemed useless and unworthy. It was better than nothing yet her heart still ached for the ones she couldn’t save.

Are they now villains as well? Murderers and thieves?

Y/N’s stomach churned as she listened intently to Dabi’s words, just like everyone else. His journey to the league and his motivation for the destruction he had caused. 

Endeavor’s first born son. The number one hero created a villain. She mentally kicked herself for her naivety and lack of critical thinking. That firepower, of course it was related to the number one hero somehow. That’s the someone he wants to take with him.

“My goodness, what type of father does that to their own child?!”

“All Might would never.”

“Some hero that is.”

And so it began. Y/N knew that this was just the beginning of the death of Endeavor. The end would be with Dabi, at his hand.

“So this is all his fault!”

“What a terrible human being!”

“He shouldn’t even be a hero.”

The elders in the home all made their opinions known. Sentiments shared by many throughout the country. Their faith in heroes was dwindling and they wanted All Might back. They didn’t want whatever or whoever was left after his departure. They, or rather, we needed the symbol of peace back.

As she walked back home at the end of the day, her mind was in a state of turmoil while her chest tightened at the thought of all the children she left behind. Her thoughts then shifted to Dabi, as she finally came to terms with the fact that Touya was indeed dead and gone. She wondered if he would’ve done all this had she been more insistent in him staying that night, if she had gone after him the day he left years ago, when his burns weren’t nearly as bad as they now were. 

The atmosphere was off after that revelation. It was as if you could see the hope evaporate from every being as we all now had to come to terms that our greatest hero was in fact someone’s monster. We had entrusted everything to him and now we felt like we could trust nothing and no one.

She felt uneasy walking at night. Villains had become emboldened by the chaos that followed All Might’s departure and with the truth about Endeavor and his family coming out, even heroes didn’t look so appeasing. 

With her home in sight, Y/N quickened her steps not wanting to stay out another minute longer than what was necessary. She once knew for a fact that her children would be safe and sound at home but the fact slowly changed into an everyday hope.

“You should be more aware of your surroundings,” a hoarse voice boomed from behind her. His voice.

Stopping in her tracks, she turned to him. His hair, snowy white once again. She stared in silence, not because she was stunned into it but rather because, what words could be said in that moment.

“The streets are a lot more dangerous nowadays,” his tone was proud and smug as if the lack of security she felt was a commendable achievement, “What? Cat got your tongue?” he mocked.

“W-what are you doing here?” she whispered, “the authorities must all be looking for you,” she mentally cursed at how her voice trembled when speaking.

“You knew, didn’t you?”

Her heart sank, and her legs almost followed.

“You knew what that doctor had been doing. You knew about All for One and his plan. You knew about the Nomus.” Y/N’s lips quivered and her eyes stung as tears formed in them.

“I thought you were this pure and kind person but you’ve been letting all this happen all the while taking money from that man.”

“I-I didn’t-”

“What? Have a choice?” He interrupted, “Don’t worry, I’m not here to judge you. I know who you were dealing with.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked again, this time with tears rolling down her face as the weight of her guilt finally crushed her.

“I don’t know to be honest,” he responded, “I don’t like anyone, matter of fact, I hate everyone… but not you. I actually tolerate you.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I don’t want anything bad to happen to you in this mess,” she didn’t know what to feel at that point, much less what to say so she said nothing at all.

“There’s gonna be a war,” he announced, “Just a heads up for you to be out of here before it starts…And to be on the right side.”

A scoff escaped her lips before she could stop it. “The right side? And what side would that be?”

“Our side,” he said matter-of-factly, “I don’t plan on being on the losing side, so that’s the side you should join.”

“Did All for One put you up to this?”

“Nope.”

“Did Shigaraki or Dr.Ujiko?”

“No.”

“So why do you want to recruit me?” she asked, now more confused than ever.

“Because like I said, I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. You’ll be safer with us.”

“No I won’t, Dabi.” The smugness fell from his face at the sound of that name, “I - we won’t be safer with you. In fact, no one is safe as long as All for One is around, so I sure as hell don’t want to be on his side.”

“So that’s the side you choose?”

“No! I don’t choose anything! I don’t care about heroes or villains or any other label there is. I just want peace. That is all everyone wants and you are the one threatening it,” she burst out. Damned be the fear she felt. “Please just leave.”

“A few months ago you were begging me to stay,” he scoffed.

“Yes, but you didn’t! You left and did very bad things, Dabi. Now please leave.”

Dabi stared at Y/N stunned. Her figure was trembling, he wasn’t sure if it was fear or cold causing it. His face drenched in tears that poured out of her pain stricken eyes. When he made no attempts to move, she took it as her sign to leave.

“Hey-”

“No! Stop Dabi, please! I am begging you,” she spun back around, “Do not come back here. Please. I’m doing all I can to keep them safe and they don’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire of whatever you’re up to.”

“That was their purpose!”

“No, it wasn’t!” she all but shrieked at him, “You don’t get to dictate what their purpose is! They have their own lives and dreams and they don’t need to be led down the same path as you,” her words had struck something in him. He felt the fire within him light up and he tried to control his anger as it brewed.

“I am begging you. I know you don’t care about anyone, but please, please, don’t come back here.”

“Fine,” he let out. He could see the relief wash over her at the sound of that word.

“Goodbye Dabi,” she said as she turned to leave. Her pace was much quicker than before, as she rushed to get away from him. 

He left a tug in his chest. He was reminded that there was something in there, still beating after all time.

He watched from afar as she entered her home. A sense of déjà vu passed by him and he couldn’t help but compare his feelings to what he felt the first time he was in that position. The anger that boiled as he thought of Endeavor’s rejection verses the anger that simmered as he thought of Y/N’s rejection. Only one of them drove him towards evilness while the other weakly pulled him away from it. 

Keyword: weakly.

His hate was still far too strong. Whatever he felt for her wasn’t enough to quench it, so the anger that grew from her rejection was added to the hate that drove him because at the end of the day, he was still Dabi.

——————————

masterlist

[liskantope]

I've been feeling devastated about last week's disaster of a debate (among other political developments) and see it as evidence that Biden was never a fit candidate for reelection. And at this point I really don't think he has it in him to stick out a job like the presidency all the way until 2029. But I think a lot of people are really overreacting in terms of what kind or variety of weakness it exposed in Biden. I'm a little stunned by how many people -- not generally Republicans or anti-leftists or leftists who have a bias against Biden already, but moderate-left-ish types such as Scott Alexander and Kat Rosenfield -- who seem convinced of things like that the debate shockingly but obviously "proved" that Biden is completely senile, has a clinical level of dementia, is unfit to be president right at this moment (let alone for 4.5 more years), obviously isn't acting as president but must be sitting around dazed while others do the work for him, that the Biden team's insistence that Biden is fundamentally fit has now glaringly been exposed as a complete lie, etc.

One particular narrow range of skills was on display at the debate, and I'm not sure exactly what succinct term to use for it, but it was something like "smooth articulation ability", and it's something I think about a lot as a communicator in my own professional context. There have always been certain mental states I get into (often triggered by stress or sleep deprivation) where words and sentences don't come out as clearly, get caught up in the moment on the wrong beat and get sidetracked, and struggle to get wrapped up without becoming run-ons that lack in a conclusion, where I mumble and stammer easily, and where I have trouble recalling particular words and phrases on the fly, and these contrast dramatically with my moments where the opposite is the case. This especially affects my teaching: it used to fairly often be the case that I had "bad days" where I could tell right from the start of the 75-minute class period that I wasn't going to be able to form thoughts as well as on my "good days". With more experience I've gradually learned how to minimize the "bad days", but I'm still prone to it if I'm not careful. Yet, even at my worst moments of this, it says nothing about my knowledge of the topic I'm teaching about, nor about my fitness in general. It's a very narrow aspect of my mental abilities.

Now one could point out that a huge part of being a politician is being a absolute world-class "smooth articulator". And that's true, and Biden certainly was once, and clearly old age has eroded his ability at this. But it's kind of beside the point when someone is suggesting that stumbling a lot at a debate is evidence of having dementia and being too old for one's job, other than that our being accustomed to politicians being extremely skilled at articulation is obfuscating the fact that for a typical person (whether old and senile or not), having to express one's ideas on the fly in the style of a presidential debate is incredibly difficult. I believe the great majority of adult humans -- including those who are dismissing Biden now, including a lot of the very intelligent and generally articulate among us, including myself -- would probably not be able to do much better than Biden did at that debate if we were placed in his position, and it doesn't say much about our ability to make decisions in the role of US president or about our dementia status.

All that said, what matters most in a presidential debate is the vibes each candidate gives off, and Biden definitely gave off "doddering old man" vibes in just about the worst way possible, which will certainly make a lot of people not feel okay about voting for him, whether or not they've seriously reflected on his capability of performing the actual non-public tasks required of a president.

[mysteriousdragon2]

Howdy everyone. To those who are reading this, I’ll be venting once again. However, this might be a bit more personal. You’re more than free to disregard this post, but to those who read it, thank you for your time.

So…life’s been a complete disaster. My household treats me poorly daily, and I unfortunately cannot escape this situation until I get money to move out.

My parents have hurt me in ways that I cannot explain fully. But I’ll say this for certain: mental abuse. Ever since I was a child, it’s been an ongoing issue. I’m told I deserve to get bullied, told that I’ll never amount to anything, told that I’m a freak who doesn’t deserve anything. No gifts, no friends, no happiness. And everytime I try to be happy for a split second, it gets demolished by my parents with their negative comments about me.

Aches me daily. The more I keep living, the more I sink in those words, and feel useless. I can’t even create art without having someone from my household telling me it’s a waste of time to work on. And art is something I’ve been doing practically all my life.

I despise the fact that I’m being threatened to get kicked out of home if I fail to obey my parents’ unrealistic expectations. When I already do that, it’s bringing me into a state of misery.

Heck, I feel like a terrible friend to those who are currently my friend. I just keep spewing my moronic feelings, and have no input about it. Sometimes I think it’s best that I remain silent about venting to my friends. I’m only making this post just to notify others about how I’ve been and my feelings over the past couple years.

Sometimes, I have mood swings and it sets me into unwanted places. Although random, they are manageable. Usually doing something I enjoy solves this. But it’s really irritating to have my parents tell me that art doesn’t do anything to a person. Boy are they wrong. Art has made me very creative and patient, and that is wonderful. My art has gotten better thanks to the many art trades I’ve done with people.

Yet, I feel out of it. With just about anything I do, my stress level keeps getting worse to certain things. I’m claustrophobic, so being around a ton of people or closed spaces and or objects get my mind racing. I hate that I’ve met people joking about claustrophobia, it’s not okay. When people treat a phobia as a joke, please don’t do that. It grinds my gears.

Anyhow, sometimes I feel like I’m inferior sad a person and a friend. And often I choose to avoid people for the sake of their health, plus others are busy, so I get it.

What upsets me, is getting abandoned. By my close friends especially. Or anybody that’s genuinely kind to me. Countless times have I keep ghosted without a word by many people, and it’s never a pleasant feeling. You feel shackled and shut down. The fact this happens often really shows how terrible I am. But to those who have been my friend for a while, thank you.

The only thing keeping me intact at the moment, is Hol Horse. He’s been nothing but an example I follow, to always be a number 2. And to never strive for perfection, or being a perfectionist. He has his own way of life, and so do I want to aim for that someday. He means so much to me, more than I can express.

Sorry for the venting. Just wanted to express how I’ve been feeling and what’s going on. Thanks to those who read it.

Have a good one, everyone.

[aneyef0raheart]

𝔉𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔨𝔶 𝔦𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢

Good and disaster :D

You and Gojo were both teachers in Jujutsu High, you had something to do with him. Something that makes him mad whenever you're around, at least it looks like it. Everytime you're in the teachers lounge, he walks away and heads outside. You would always think when would you guys ever be colleagues or friends.

There was a time you didn't expect would happen. You were out to get a cold drink from the vending machine disposing the coins in the coin slot until Satoru came across, he didn't walk away or do anything... Just standing right behind you. A bead of sweat ran down your neck, Satoru tried hard not to laugh of how nervous you are. He leaned over to your ear and whispered "I'll make sure my can go in that coin slot, make sure it fits for me." Right after he said that, the can dispensed and you immediately reached down to grab it out of the dispenser, until you could even put your hand in it, Satoru's hand pushed you onto the vending machine pinning you onto there, you could feel it pressing against you by how close he is to you. "What the hell..." You stated. "Yeah what the hell.. Why am I doing this, probably because I give you those looks for how hot you look I couldn't resist..."

He smiled behind you. "I'll spare you until lessons are done." He took a step back letting his hands off you. You stood there speechless as he walks off to his students outside the field training. Satoru stopped walking and turned to you "Your students are waiting for you... Y/N. Quit staring off to space and head off to your scholars dear.." He grins and continued walking. You shook your head and went out the opposite door, you took multiple breathes and mental advices which did not work. You walk into your classroom trying to act normal. While you were teaching about domains, you tried writing on the board but instead you broke the chalk. "M-miss..? Are you okay..?" A student asked, you turned to look at them with a flushed face "I'm no- I'm fine... You know what, class is over." You imediantally stepped out class and headed outside to take a break leaning against the fence.

You came across Satoru again which made your thoughts even worse, you looked back at him then to the view Infront of you. You clicked your tongue just by the presence of him until he grabs your wrist and makes you look directly at him. "I'm taking you home, you don't feel well." He drags you with him to his car "Hey! I didn't agree with you idiot!" He rolls his eyes and shoves you in the passenger seat. Satoru gets inside the driver's seat and starts the car engine, without a thought he takes off.

"Call me an idiot and I'll... Gosh nevermind."

"I don't even know you much why are you... Taking me home.."

"But I do, and my home... actually." He smirks and eyes you from the corner of his eyes while he's also focused on the road. "I'll do you good and get you some food first yeah?" He stops at a red light. "Uhm.. Sure... I guess I'll have ice cream mochi..."

"Great!" Satoru curled a light smile from his lips. You guys arrived at a corner store and parked it at the front, you both walk in but you had Satoru grabbing your hand like you'll go somewhere, which you may have thought of. He buys a bowl of Buldak noodles for himself and your mochi ice cream next to the checkout counter. You guys arrived to his house, it felt really weird to be in someone's house you barely knew. You were wondering what he meant by 'but I do'. "Is he stalking me!?" You said out loud. Satoru was silent for a moment and laughed "Your thoughts are pretty loud." While his snack boils he walks towards you from the living room and leans against the couch behind you where you are sitting. He looks down at you and you look up at him. "You should be my girlfriend by now." He said without hesitation "You should be dead by now." You added onto it, he raises his eyebrows and chuckled "Must've gotten the wrong girl. I like your attitude." He smirks and leans from the couch to kiss you in the lips, he pulls away as he almost forgot about the noodles. "Shit." He ran to the kitchen and pulls the pit away from the stove and turns it off. You wiped your lips from the kiss but... You kind of liked it... No, you loved it. His lips were soft. And he acts like a tsundere which turned you on a bit.

After he was done you followed him to his room, there was a TV and saw Satoru already sitting on his bed with the remote. You sat down next to him opening the packet of your mochi ice cream. He picked out a love movie, of course. It was called "Horimiya" You we're glad he had such good taste you even wondered what his music is like. During the movie only 20 minutes in, you finished your snack and didn't realize Satoru leaning on your shoulder. He sighed and looked at you starting to get impatient, he's already finished his noodles next to his end table and sat up again. He turned off the movie and looked at you with a straight face. "Lay down." "Wait... What." He groaned and pulled your legs down and sat on you. He leaned in and kissed you on the neck, soon it started getting sloppy. You covered your mouth not to make a sound but he didn't allow it and pinned both hands onto the sheets. He moved one hand to your waist, than hips, finally to your thighs picking it up. You felt his touch and started to shiver, you weren't the type of person to moan unless...

He was wearing pajama sweats which made his hard ass visible. He lifted you up and ran his hands under your shirt with one hand on your back than to the back of your neck. After a few minutes of the sound of you shivering and whimpering he pulled away leaving love marks on you. "Damn... Why look at you." He grabbed one of your hands to make you touch the top of his head as a sign to play with them. Without a thought he felt your hands run through strands of his hair. He had a sensitive head which made him whine a bit but that's what he wanted. He leaned forward to your chest and moved you back to the board of his bed. Why's he being a softy all of a sudden? Didn't he want to break your legs or something a while back? I guess he didn't mean tha-

He lifts half of your shirt putting his head inside of it, your shirt pulled down and covered his entire head top to the back of his head. You felt him removing your distracting bra and his cold hands on one of them. "M- Toru' don't do that!" It seems like your hands didn't answer that, instead it pushed him forward. His hands were all over you, it felt like 100 hands all over you but it was only his 2 hands moving around. "Gojo you fucking asshole." You gave in and rested your head on the board of the bed. He pulls his head away leaving saliva all over your chest. "Why do you have to be so warm..." You questioned him "Everyone has a warm mouth." He slightly lift the corner of his lips into a small smirk. A few seconds he started groaning holding onto his cock. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckkk..." He pulls you by your collar, he imediantally pulls his sweat band halfway down and replaces it with your mouth.

His hands were pulling your hair so you wouldn't back up. You tried speaking which made it worse for Satoru sending vibrates to his entire body making him shiver and a flushed face appeared onto his face "Stop trying... To... Talk..." He groaned. Your saliva started dripping down. His whole length inside of your mouth. Soon enough he sighed and slightly moaned with a load coming out of him. "Y-you better swallow the entire thing..." You didn't even need to swallow, the whole thing already went down your throat making you choke. He finally lets go of you, soon enough you started coughing and choking gasping for air. He pulls you closer again for you to sit on his lap while his cock in between you guys. "Sorry I had to do that..." "Shut up..." His hands moved to your hips then the bottom of your thighs grabbing your ass. Both of his thumbs were about to pull your sweats down.

"I seriously need more of your body Y/N..." He turned you around and slammed you head to the side of the mattress. He had your pants halfway removed and had your back arched. He imediantally puts it in "Now you'll feel how hard I am once I get even harder when I'm inside you." He leans forward which made your walls stretch and created noises and whimpers from you.

"Ahh, now I get it. You only do that when it's actually in you. Take that as a note." "J-just shut up and take me already... I don't want to hear your comments..."

[jqmalikhsgib]

planets aligned

note: this is for my plus size readers! as a plus size woman myself, we deserve more representation!!!

one

you groaned as your alarm goes off. you reach over to slam your hand against the machine, but you couldn’t find the button. you frowned with your eyes closed until you felt someone turning in the bed.

you turned slowly to find your ex boyfriend cuddled up to you. you remember the events of last night. both of you had got really drunk, talking and laughing about the past. you remember the paparazzi yelling at you when you left the club that night, holding hands with trey.

you groaned once more before getting up and finding your clothes scattered all over the bed. quickly grabbing them, you rushed to get dressed before leaving his hotel room. you put on your shades, knowing the paps are most likely waiting for you outside.

when you spot them you groan once more before walking out the building.

“yn! yn! yn!”

“yn, what does this mean for you and trey?”

“are you and trey back together?”

“she we be expecting a wedding soon?”

you ignore every last question. thankfully your best friend was outside waiting for you. you didn’t even have to call.

you hop in the car quickly before she drives off and hands you a coffee. “you’re a lifesaver!”

“none of that. what were you thinking?! trey? seriously? you went home to him of all people?”

you frowned. you knew exactly why she was upset. trey had cheated on you for the whole two years you were together. he was a dick and mentally abused you for half of your relationship. he’s the reason why you’re so insecure about your body. for so long, many people have called you fat, you never really battered an eye. when trey did it, you became shy, closed off, started wearing baggy clothes, quit multiple modeling jobs, you became super depressed. your best friend was the one to pick up the pieces. if it wasn’t for her you’d probably end your entire career and move back home to your parents house, who cut you off until you come to your senses and quit this modeling nonsense.

of course if you let that happen you’d let them win. besides, you were a very successful model! you earned way too much money and had millions of women who adored you to pieces. you were one of the few faces to plus size and bigger women who struggled with their confidence because of bullies and internet trolls who had nothing better to do than harass a woman for being comfortable in her skin.

you enjoyed your career and your fanbase. you weren’t about to let some loser like trey or your parents take this way from you.

“i know, fariah, i know! i wasn’t thinking. i was drunk and horny. trust me, im kicking myself already.” you sigh.

“you better be lucky i explain to your date that it was an idiotic mistake and it’ll never happen again. he agreed to still meet you.”

you shook your head aggressively. “absolutely not! im not going on a date with another one of your boyfriends, friends. they’ve all been a total disaster, fariah. i have no idea jason had friends like that. you seriously need to tell him to hang out with better people.” you state.

“confessions? they’re more like jason’s brothers, friends.”

“that explains a lot then! jason’s brothers a dick.”

“come on! one more date, please? if this one turns out to be a dick, no more!”

“fine! what’s his name?”

“preston.”

“he sounds like an asshole! but i’ll give it a shot! no more after this, though! please?”

“cross my heart.”

you’d been at the restaurant you were suppose to meet this preston guy. it had been an hour since you’ve sat down, waiting. you roll your eyes, realizing you’d been stood up.

finally getting the courage to sit up and head to the bar, you ordered a drink. you were extremely embarrassed. you felt like everyone was staring at you.

in that moment you decided to give up on love and just stay single forever. every guy you’ve dated had been boys men who clearly had commitment issues or simply just assholes who didn’t know how to please a woman.

your sex life was completely sad and dull. most men just wanted to get off. they couldn’t care less about making another woman cum. it had been a while since a man has made you orgasm.

that wasn’t the biggest issue, though. you were just tired of getting your heart broken. you’d let someone in, they show you love and affection for a few weeks, suddenly they act like you don’t exist. it was exhausting!

you wanted—needed something more.

“penny for your thoughts?” you turned. you were about to tell the guy to leave you the hell alone but, he was none other than eddie munson.

you remember having multiple corroded coffin poster on your wall back home. you loved corroded coffin! your parents hated listening to them. they were into classical music and never understood why you listened to such ‘trash’ music.

you didn’t understand why you liked them either. you weren’t much of a heavy metal fan, but they sounded amazing. not to mention, eddie was your celebrity crush. he was handsome with his long dark hair, leather jacket, the multiple rings he’d wear, the guy-liner, most importantly, the tattoos and piercings. god, he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen.

you were ten when you started listening to corroded coffin. eddie was twenty-six. now you were twenty-six and you knew he was in his early forties.

but eddie was still handsome as ever. though today he didn’t have long wavy hair. instead he had somewhat of a bold cut. it suited him, honestly.

he definitely had more muscle on him, his facial hair was coming in slightly, he dressed a little more the same, currently wearing a black sabbath t-shirt. he looked amazing.

“you okay there, pretty girl?”

pretty girl?! holy shit!

“uh—yeah it’s just—you’re eddie munson.”

eddie chuckles. “that’s correct! but you’re yn yln! everyone adores you. including my daughter.”

“oh? she a fan, huh?”

“yeah! all she talk about is you. ‘daddy, yn posted another photo!’ ‘dad, yn commented on my post!’ ‘oh, yn is going to paris. could we go too, daddy?!’ she likes you more than me.”

yn giggles.

“well she should adore you! i use to listen to corroded coffin all the time growing up. my parents hated my ‘loud ass music’ but i couldn’t get enough. i still listen to you guys when i need to just feel, you know?”

“hmm, i completely understand, darlin. so i take it you’re a huge fan?”

“you’re kiddin right?! absolutely. i had the biggest crush on yo—” before you could stop yourself, you groan.

eddie smirks. “yeah? was crushin on me hard, sweetheart?”

“god, please tell me i can rewind that and start over?”

“don’t think that’s how that works, baby. but if it makes you feel any better, im crushin on you now.”

suddenly the room gets significantly hotter. eddie runs his hands against your cheek. “i got a hotel room right above the restaurant. why don’t we head up there?”

you hum as eddie grabs your hand and you both head to the elevator.

the very next day you woke up to another alarm. immediately getting deja vu you shot up. when you turned you heard the bathroom door open. when eddie munson walks out he had a towel wrapped around his waist and he smirks at you.

“good morning, baby. slept good last night?”

you blush when you think about the events of last night. eddie had made you cum a number of times. you lost count after three. he’d been the best sex you’ve ever had in a long time. and the aftercare, fuck! he was such a gentleman. your brain soon starts to fumble though. you knew this was probably a one time thing.

eddie hasn’t dated since his ex wife died, leaving him with a daughter to raise on his own. you didn’t expect anything else from him.

“yeah! it was great.”

you give him a fake smile before looking for your clothes. once you found them, you got up and started to put them on. eddie frowns.

“what are you doing, baby?”

“i get this was a one time thing. i don’t wanna waste anymore of your time. im just gonna head out.”

“hey! first, you don’t need to go, okay? second, i had a great time with you, and lastly, who said anything about a one time thing?”

“i just assumed you wanted me gone. i don’t know. most guys expect me to leave right after. guess im use to it.” you shrugged your shoulders.

eddie shakes his head. “those are little boys, darlin! im a grown ass man, alright! i definitely wanna keep seeing you. maybe take you on a few dates, get to know each other better, possibly start a real relationship, baby.”

you smiled widely. “yeah?”

“mhm! now take that goddamn bra off and let’s me order some room service and possibly fuck you some more, yeah?” eddie walks over to you and kisses you passionately.

“okay!”

“good girl.” he smirks as you shiver.

[deceptive-daydreams]

Whatever She Wants; I Will Do Anything - E.M.

Eddie x fem reader

2.9K Words

Inspired by the song Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers. Or where you’re very good at keeping your guard up and not letting others in only to crumble under the pressure. And Eddie is there to help you put the pieces back together.

Warnings - angsty, depictions of mental illness, dark thoughts

A/N - This shit is emotional and this song has been stuck in my head for days so I had to do something with it. Any feedback is appreciated 🥹

Masterlist

— I would do anything you want me to

I would do anything for you

I would do anything, I would do anything

Whatever you want me to do, I will do

—

If you could pick the scenery to describe your own brain, it wouldn’t be a field of daisies, fresh and heavenly, or rainbows after a light summer rain, sticky but romanticized.  It wouldn’t be angelic beach views with sunsets marbling the sky or even the starry night with the moon soaking the earth in its celestial light.   No, these things were magnificent, pleasing to look at, easy to take in.  Very unlike your brain.  

Your idea would be more of a tsunami ripping everything apart, having no mercy on anything in its wake—destroying everything it touches.  Emotions receding into the sea quietly before ultimately coming back in a massive wave and disrupting the quaint living of those around.  Murky skies and shattered hope.  People running, and running far just to avoid the disaster—the impending doom that was you.  That is exactly how you’d describe your brain. 

Sometimes if you were lucky there were a select few weeks in between the storms of your mind where you’d feel a sliver of relief, a drought in the ever flowing thoughts that dismantled your life.  Times where there would be a glimmer of ambition and an inkling of motivation.  It never lasted long, fleeing as soon as you were starting to get better.  A colossal wave consuming you once again, and people would go running as they always did—the commotion of the storm too turbulent for them to brave.  

And the agonizing thoughts would begin to stew at the very core of your brain.  Simmering until they boiled over at random.  

Too hard to love.

Useless.

Worthless.

Barely a person, a walking corpse devoid of emotion due to the burnout.

Not worthy of love.

Not worthy of anything.

I should have never even made it this far, sixteen years was my limit.

I don’t want to do this anymore, please don’t make me do this anymore.

It was all so daunting, so intimidating and heavy.  It truly felt like you did not belong on this earth and there was absolutely no way to combat it other than merely surviving.  Days passed and you were trapped in the endless cycle that was existing without purpose.  

Your boyfriend, Eddie, sweet Eddie had a life to live and you couldn’t bear to burden him with the sorrows of your aching soul.  Eventually he’d realize what a nuisance you were, how crippling your state of mind could be.  He didn’t deserve to be detained by the relationship you so thought was out of pity.  Ever so generous, kind, enamoring, handsome, loving, gentle, loud, assertive—everything Eddie was made of, was something you believed you never once deserved.  You dreaded the day he would glance at you and come to his senses.  She is too broken for me, I can’t love her.

The convincing mask you were able to automatically put on was all too familiar.  Being able to physically front that you were happy when the reality of it all was that demons swam through your bloodstream and never left, only lying dormant every once in a blue moon only to come back at full force.  It felt like poison, the way you would be okay one moment and suddenly in seconds you were grasping onto your sanity, clinging onto any bits of reality—of your mortal self only to be swallowed up by harsh accusations toward yourself that would have you sinking back into your bed for as long as it required.  And that’s how you got so good with the mask, forcing yourself to conform to the world around you when you absolutely couldn’t rot in bed, other obligations taking priority despite the poison coursing through your body.  A smile on your face, a compliment here, a joke there, sprinkled with some stupid story from the other day that always seemed to appease your audience.  It was all fake and no one could sniff it out.

Until Eddie came along and he was able to detect even the slightest shift in your demeanor.  Though you could throw the mask on, it didn’t always work with him and he would encourage you to take it off.  You never did.  Insisting I’m fine, just a little tired.  Lying through your teeth.  You couldn’t help it, you’d never let your guard down with anyone ever.  How were you supposed to when it didn’t even feel like an option?  A people pleaser to your core, you’d take your feelings with you to the grave.  

The first time Eddie stumbled upon you crying, he was at a loss, not knowing how to approach the situation.  Do I hug her?  No, what if she doesn’t want me to?  Do I hold her hand?  Does she want me to leave?  Did I do something?  What if I made her cry?  Does she want to break up?  Every thought flew at him at lightning speed, practically slapping him in the face.  Before any decision could be made, you sucked back the tears and used your sleeves to aggressively clear your under eyes.  I’m fine, I just watched an emotional movie.  Lies.  Not wanting to push you further, he nodded and held you close.  But he knew.  You were suffering, drowning in your own fucked up world and he had no idea how to pull you out.  When his own mind started suffocating him he could at least voice that he wasn’t having the best day, also being the type to never burden others with his invading thoughts.  He’d leave it at that and sulk in his room but you would always sit with him, if he allowed.  If not, that was okay too and he was eternally grateful.  

The more he studied your behavior when you just felt off, the more he gathered the way you would often go blank during a conversation, eyes becoming void of a human and turning into a shell of yourself as you picked yourself apart internally.  Anxiety looming in your eyes and hands the slightest bit shaky, he would touch his fingertips to yours in the smallest touch hoping to lure you back, praying that he didn’t overstep because god he was so scared.  And when you did return, you still weren’t fully there although you claimed you were just tired.  Again.  He just wanted you to be happy.  And you wanted to be happy.  

It took almost a year into the relationship for you to even be able to ask him to come over when you wanted to just be with him.  Before that it just felt like you were pestering him for attention even though that was far from the truth.  You could call him just to complain about how your lunch tasted and he would savor every moment.  Even still, you had your doubts about calling him or texting him, the nasty demons lurking within you telling you he didn’t care.  Eddie picked up on your patterns from the very beginning and learned that the way you worded things really indicated your mood, if you were genuinely doing well or if things were bad again.  A simple phrase popping up on his phone and he would bolt to you if he had the slightest inclination that you were in a pool of your own self deprecating thoughts.  

Are you home?  Really meant, I need you, I need you and I’m too afraid to outright say it.

Are you busy?  Either meant that you wanted to go on a gas station run with him or that you wanted to vent about your family.  

Want to come over?  Generally translated to I’m in a good space right now and would love to spend time with you.

I love you.  Told him I’m thinking about you.

Love you.  Was an indicator that you were on edge, it could be because of him depending on the nature of the situation or it could just be a bad day. 

Food?  Was the phrase used to tell him I’m hangry and we better be getting Mexican food otherwise you better suggest something that sounds yummier.

I’m fine.  Was as clear as day.  I’m the opposite of fine.

So when it’s ten o’ clock at night and the cicadas are chirping outside his trailer, his fingers dancing along the neck of his guitar to a new riff he recently learned and he sees his phone light up with your name, he eagerly reaches over to pick it up and read.  His eyes scan over three key words.

Are you home?

Immediately he’s setting his guitar on top of his mattress, calling you as he scrambles around his room searching for his car keys, finally locating them underneath his copy of Lord of the Rings he had been rereading earlier, tossing the book aside.  The dial tone rings through his ears a few times, heart beating fast.  On the other end, a meek little hey is heard along with a sniffle that you swore you would hide.  

“Baby, what’s wrong?”  His voice is laced with concern while he makes his way out to the living room to collect his leather jacket.  

“I-I-nothing.  I just—wanted to hear your voice.”  Part of it is a lie.  Everything is wrong and your world is crumbling as you stare out the window lifelessly.  Panic is taking over while you endure thoughts about your past, present, and future.  Why did I say that one thing that one time?  I’m such a bad person.  I should have never been born, that way I could save everyone the embarrassment.  You’re instigating yourself and there’s no sign of stopping.  Eddie would be happier without you, he’s too good for you, good things don’t happen to you without a price.  Bullet after bullet hits your soul.  

“I’m coming over.”  He tells you without giving you the option to say no, the line going silent as he hangs up.  This only coaxes more humiliating things out from the depths of your brain.  See what you did?  You ruined his night, now he’s on his way over and he’s probably so mad.  He has so many better things to be doing than sitting with a cry baby.  

The sobs rack your body, chest heaving and vision completely blurred with hot tears traveling down your face.  You’re shaking, the words assaulting you over and over.  Even if you wanted to stop crying you couldn’t, the dam was flooded.  It was an oversight on your part, you didn’t need to text Eddie but you did it out of impulse.  Everything suddenly becomes so overstimulating, so gross and uncomfortable.  The way your clothes hug your body makes you wince, rubbing your arms to somewhat soothe yourself but it only does so much.  The clutter on your bedside table aggravates you all of the sudden but there’s not any energy to straighten it up, leaving you sitting on the bed in full on breakdown mode.  You’re now way too aware of your own body, yearning to immediately cease existing.  A blanket once thrown over your legs is now tossed across the room, the material now disgusting you.  Everything becomes unbearable.

So unbearable that you don’t even hear Eddie using his key in your front door, the hinges squeaking as he enters, or the click of the lock as he locks it again before rushing upstairs, his boots stomping on every other step.  You don’t hear the bedroom door creak open as he carefully approaches, toeing off his boots near the door and then speaking to you.  

“Sweetheart, what’s goin’ on?”  His tone is gentle enough to soothe a baby.  Shrugging his jacket off and tossing it on a nearby chair, he slowly strides closer to the bed but still keeps his distance.  

All you can do is cover your face in your pathetic palms, attempting to hide away the misery you have become.  A wet and whimpered I don’t know is made out from you muffling the words into your hands.  His heart shatters.  All he wants to do is hold you but only if you’ll allow him to.  The last thing he wants to do is make it worse.  The last time he saw you cry was also the first time and you’d sucked it up and brushed it off like it never happened.  This was drastically different, you were a puddle of tears and snot, sobbing uncontrollably and unable to hold back any longer.

“Baby.  Look at me.  Just for a minute, okay?”  He’s trying to convince you but you shake your head, palms still gathering tears.  “Please?  Please?”  He begs, voice hoarse as he tries to map out a gameplan in his head.  It still falls upon deaf ears.  “I need you to look at me.  If I’m going to help you, you need to look at me.”  He leans over the bed attempting to catch your eyes.  “I need you.”  He speaks desperately, his own eyes becoming wet.  For some reason, the phrase makes you stop for a second, makes you freeze.  If he needed you, then you were going to give him anything he wanted, anything he needed.  It was some type of reverse psychology that he hadn’t even realized he performed.  You were falling apart but the moment he begged for help you stopped everything to be by his side.

Shock written in his features, he looks at you while you look at him, big doe eyes full of anxiety and worry.  The atmosphere was stagnant at that moment.  Hiccups erupted out of you but your full undivided attention was on him.  He pondered his next moves carefully, not wanting to scare you off or chase you back into your corner.  His next words were spoken with the utmost care.

“Tell me what you need me to do.”  His voice was shaky and his eyes blinked rapidly.  “I—I’ve never done this before.  Please tell me what you need.”  His voice wobbled on the last few words as you tried to process everything.  “Whatever you want me to do, I will do.”  The way his tone wavered broke you, choking out a sob before stopping yourself.  You did this to him.  So you force yourself to provide an answer, it’s the least you could do.  

Voice cracking, you reply “Hold me.”  The dam continues flooding, sending a river down your cheeks.  He’s quick to crawl across the bed and gather you in his arms like the most fragile thing he’s ever held.  Arms wrap around your middle to pull you in between his legs, pulling your back flush against his chest as you then maneuver your body to curl into him like he’s your bunker, face buried in his chest and trembling hands fisting his shirt.  

“I’m right here, I’ve got you.  I’m here.”  Whispered reassurances against the top of your head as you soak his shirt in a mixture of tears and snot.  He lets you cry for as long as you need, as long as you want.  

“I’m always here for you.  Okay?  I would do anything for you.”  He promises, stroking your back soothingly, placing a kiss to your temple.  Everything about you is so ugly in the moment and yet, he’s so patient and warm.  So attentive and loving.  His gestures begin to chip at the walls you built around yourself so long ago.  It would take time but he’s made the first cracks in those sturdy walls and he would spend forever helping you tear them down.  

The sobs and hiccups begin to settle down, not completely but enough that you have some composure.  Your wide eyes stare into his kind ones.  You’re forced to recognize the unconditional love swimming in his eyes.  The genuine concern for your well being and his necessity for your comfort and happiness.  

“I love you.”  An offer through your tears of that same love on a silver platter that he would gladly indulge in.  Hand brushing against the bottom of your chin, tilting it ever so slightly while the other rests on the small of your back, he delivers a nudge of his nose against yours, a piece of his heart.  

“I love you.  I will always love you.”  His words have a greater meaning, an oath that even through the bad times, the times where you were isolated and hated yourself, kicking yourself to the curb,  he would be right there to help you back up.  A brush of his thumb against a rogue tear on your cheek has you hanging onto his every action.  The way he continues to use his thumbs to clean up any remnants  of sadness that had been acquired over the last hour or so.  How his lips curl up in fondness when you brush your fingertips along his stubbly cheek.  A whispered thank you against his skin.  When he lays back and pulls you onto his chest, his breathing lulling you into a post cry sleep that you very well needed, one hand running up and down your back and the other tracing shapes into your arm—calloused fingers providing every bit of comfort needed.  How his lips press a kiss to your forehead.  The scary thoughts were at bay for now and Eddie would without a doubt help you to battle them the next time they invaded your mind, whether it be tomorrow or next week.  His words have you melting, insides gooey and sticky when he thinks you’re fast asleep but you’re really still clinging onto these last waking moments as you mold into each other.   

“You’re everything I could ever ask for.  I would do anything for you.”

~end~

Masterlist

[mariamegale]

What Becomes of the World

Burakhovsky, rated M, 13,131 words.

He thinks about what a fucking miracle it is that he’s still alive, and his chest tightens again. The problem with survival isn’t the here and now, Artemy is beginning to realise; that’s easy. Here and now, what matters is taking another breath, is pushing through whatever is happening into the next moment. Doing what you need to get done when your life is on the line and, by proxy, the lives of countless others, isn’t the hardest part. That is what comes after, when you’re no longer gasping for air, when there are no longer singular moments to gather your thoughts but an endless stretch of time ahead of you with no more looming disaster to take your mind off of the future. Now, that’s where he finds himself; in the future, inside that vague notion of hope he was clinging to for weeks as he sprinted across town, plague clouds chasing his heels, herbs and bottles and raw human organs jostling around in his medic bag, dead bodies left in his wake. The whole time, the future was on his mind, getting himself and his children and his friends to it, and now it’s here and he doesn’t know what to do when he’s stopped running.

Read it on AO3!

For @whumperless-whump-event 2024, day 29: Wrong place, wrong time: Robbery / One of many hostages / “Stay behind me, I can take a hit.”

a/n:

'write something for whumperless whump,' i said. 'it'll be fun,' i said. little did i anticipate when i woke up this morning with 800 words that this was going to evolve, because i don't know myself and never learn the message of anti-hubris i need to sorely figure out.

I have once again seen inspiration, lost my mind, and hurled out a fic so fast I should be concerned by my mental state. I do also have covid, so please, any typos or other nonsense, point it out to me.

As always, I adore you, and I hope you enjoy <3

Tags: Enemies to Lovers, The incredible romance of shooting three people to protect your idiot beau, Getting Together, Fighting, Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Making Up, Making Out, Slow Burn, Post-Diurnal Ending, you know when you're soulmates, but you need to argue for a few thousand words before you both figure it out, yeah that: The Fic

Archive warnings: Graphic depictions of violence

Full tags under the cut.

Enemies to Lovers, Robbery, The incredible romance of shooting three people to protect your idiot beau, Getting Together, Fighting, Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Major Character Injury, Canonical Levels of Violence, aka nothing too bad, Arguing, Making Up, Making Out, Slow Burn, Post-Diurnal Ending, after the world ends, and the horrifying realisation you need to figure out what to do Next, Existential Crisis, Artemy is a Dad but it's very very background, Drug Use, aka morphine, Safe Sane and Consensual, aka daniil is not going to veer into dubcon whether artemy likes it or not, (he does not.), you know when you're soulmates, but you need to argue for a few thousand words before you both figure it out, yeah that: The Fic

[drakeanddice]

After eight sessions of Burning Wheel, we decided that it wasn’t clicking for our table. It had a bunch of neat tech baked in, but wielding the system was not a joy for us. It felt like we could either dedicate ourselves absolutely to the infinite Swiss watch design or else abstract down toward the core resolution forever without ever doing more than scratch the surface and in general neither of those felt…y’know, good. So we decided to drop it.

Which kind of sucks. I feel a little defeated by the book. Like, I spent a not inconsiderable amount of time plumbing through the obtuse and confusing self-referential and esoteric prose, trying to get to the heart of why so many of my favorite designers cite it as a seminal work in the TTRPG field, but all I got was the feeling that the inheritors of its ideas did a lot to clean them up, sharpen them, and make them infinitely more fun to engage with.

I’m left with a feeling I’m getting pretty used to. I missed that moment when this thing was “cool.” I missed the Forge, I missed G+, and I missed Burning Wheel.

But also, I’m given to understand the Forge, like Burning Wheel, had problems, so I’m not taking it too hard.

We decided to play Mausritter this Friday. In a complete 180 from the rule-heavy interlocking gears and levers of Burning Wheel, the 300 pages of character creation, we decided to roll 3d6 3 times, and then 1d6 twice and take our little adventurer mice into the great big world to face danger and find treasure.

I’ve been having a recent problem where I play games for the wrong reasons. I’m looking for inspiration, for pilferable game design thoughts, for experiences outside of my comfort zone. I’m running games as work, as research. I’m slavishly adherent to the rules as written because I feel as though I owe that to the designer, because they clearly knew what they were doing and were doing it for a purpose. It’s a mental weight.

So I am attacking Mausritter from an entirely different angle. It’s an OSR game, very light and fast and abstracted. The rules are loose and few. It’s very minimal mental overhead. So I don’t have a lot to worry about getting “wrong” in the way that I’ve been secretly fearing I’ve been doing for Burning Wheel these past eight weeks. I’m playing this one for fun.

I’ve told my table that I need them to keep me honest. This is not work. My Friday night table is often abused as a play test group, often treated as an extension of my job as a game designer. I design games so I must play them. But this one’s just for fun. Don’t let me think to hard about it. Because I’m not in a mental state to do that right now.

We’re going to be mice. It’s going to be fun.

Anyway. I’ve done a thing I haven’t done in forever and prepped for a game. I’ve got a cool hexmap (adorable), have created some factions out in the world (portentous), named some NPCs (wholesome), and home brewed up some interesting spells and items to sprinkle around (fun as hell). I have not sat and just played DM by myself in a while. Still not something I want to do every time, but a welcome break from conducting atop a surfboard in front of a disaster wave.

I’m excited about this game. Can’t wait to report back.

[surfinminhos]

especially in love with you ♡

hwang hyunjin x female reader (fluff)

requested! ---- Lrei

!! fluff au, kissing, mentions of stress, work. 2ND PERSON POV, cuddling, clingy bf, tiny fake text part, everything fluff! microscopic angst part !!

word count: 1,073

synopsis: You and Hyunjin have been dating for 8 months, The two of you haven't parted ways since. One day you went home exhausted from work. He was clearly worried about you and let you sleep for the rest of the night. The next day you woke up to see your boyfriend out of sight. Little did you know, he was planning a little gift to remove a little bit of your stress from work. It was the best gift you'd ever received from anyone. You both love each other dearly, but this day was really 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭.

-author's note: this is my first time writing something like this, ever so you can spot a lot of mistakes throughout my posts. I would love some tips on writing on Tumblr, overall tysm for reading.-

It was a scorching hot day and you were with your boyfriend that was going to drop you off to work. You two usually walked to your workplace every morning but considering the intense heat outside, you both decided that he'll just drop you off to work in his car. It was a pretty short and quiet ride. You both liked the comfortable silence that comes every once in a while. You two reached the workplace, wiping a little sweat dripping down your forehead from the hot temperature. You said goodbye to your boyfriend and kissed his cheek."Why can't you just take the day off and spend more time with me and Kkami?" he asked, frowning. "You know I can't do that Hyune, I have to work. Speaking of work, I gotta go, I don't want to be late. Bye," you kissed his cheek again and sent him multiple flying kisses on the way to your office's entrance. You walk inside your office as a bunch of your colleagues greet you and you greet them back. "Omg, I love you hyunjinnie baby mwa mwa mwa" your best friend, (y/f/n) stated mockingly. "Oh shut up (y/f/n), you're just jealous I dated someone longer than 2 days." you scoffed, making her blush a little from embarrassment. "Whatever, I still don't trust that guy." she ranted. "Well you should 'cause I don't think I can ever leave him," you stated. You organize your stuff as you mentally prepare yourself for a long day of work.

You went home, exhausted. You plopped down on your couch, not wanting to stand up, maybe it was because of the extreme heat, or you were too tired to do so. "Hyune! I'm home!" you exclaimed as you watched your boyfriend run down the stairs to check on you. "Hey jagi, how was work?" he asked as he sat down beside you, looking like a disaster compared to him, it seemed like he had just got out of the shower an hour before you arrived, you were lying down, limbs everywhere. "It was the most tiring 5 hours of my life," you answered. "Missed me?" you asked with a cheeky smile, trying to cover the fact that you were really tired yet failing miserably the moment you heard your boyfriend's response. "Of course I did," he cupped your cheeks as he kissed you. "I know you're tired, stop trying to cover it up jagi, I've made you food, eat up and change into your pj's and I'll get ready to cuddle you to sleep," he instructed."Alriiight, help me get up first," you blurted, causing both of you to laugh as he pulls you out of the couch. After you did everything he told you, you rushed to your shared bedroom and saw Hyunjin laying down in his pj's. He was shocked seeing you've done everything he asked so swiftly. "Staring is bad y'know," you said jokingly. You ran over to the bed and lay down beside him. He tucks you in the blankets, legs intertwined as he cuddles you tightly, while you smile at his actions. "Go to sleep now, dream of me cutie" he smirked, causing you to smile and blush even more as you drift away to sleep.

*bzzzt, bzzzt* you woke up to your phone buzzing loudly, you picked it up and glanced at the time, it was 7:23 in the morning. You grunted as you stretched your arms and saw the empty space on the other side of the bed, your boyfriend had woken up earlier than you. You wonder where he could've gone as you stand up and walk lazily to the bathroom to brush your teeth. After, you hear a sudden *ting!* from your phone, indicating a message. You check your phone and see it was from your boyfriend.

"Hm, I wonder what his surprise would be" you mumble, running down the stairs. Just as you said that, you saw what he meant in the text. He made a lot of paintings, of you. He made a cake for you with something written on top "I love you jagiya!", He made a whole interactive card origami filled with letters for you and your pictures together which takes hours to make. You swore you were going to cry 'cause of all the efforts he gave making all of this. You truly didn't deserve him. He was beside the cake, he flashed his smile at you and you smiled back. "You made all this? For me? Why?" you asked, feeling flustered. "Because I saw that you were exhausted from work yesterday and I wanted to make you feel relaxed since you've been stressed the whole week," he answered. Feeling butterflies in your stomach. You two spent the whole weekend together. If only you could live in this moment forever. Night came, and you two were on the balcony, enjoying the view. "I have told you this a billion times already, but I'll say it again. I love you. So much." you stated, breaking the silence. He smiles at you and lifts your chin up to face him with his thumb, "I love you too, so, so, so much. You're my favourite person ever. 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲." he says, and kisses you under the moonlight.

-END-

-author's note ~ IT'S FINALLY DONE! I sacrificed my sleep for this. send some requests! sorry if it's kinda cheesy, I tried. Stream 5 Star for 5 days of luck-

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Michelangelo Signorile at The Signorile Report:

As I began to write this a few hours after the first debate between President Biden and Donald Trump, my social media feeds and text messages were blowing up with a bit of panic, as were Democrats and progressives on TV.

We’re hearing about calls to replace Biden on the ticket, coming from Democratic strategists, and about fear among donors and Democratic politicians. It’s safe to say most of us had a feeling of dread when Biden came on stage and was shaky and halting. His voice was hoarse (he reportedly had a cold). He was unfocused and confused. He allowed Trump to lie and lie and lie again, to even own the issues of abortion and January 6th—Biden’s issues!—and spin them around. The CNN moderators were terrible, doing no fact-checking and allowing Trump to refuse to answer most questions and continue attacking Biden. But that is baked in. We—and Biden—knew this kind of thing about the media going into it, and Biden is the one who wanted this debate. Biden rattled off numbers but sometimes got them wrong and tripped up on his words, stumbling into saying, “We beat Medicare.” He was not emotive but rather stiff and cold, offering a blank stare that seemed to show he was horrified and not comfortable. When he wasn’t doing that he was often looking down and not into the camera. It wasn’t the Biden who enjoyed—with a big smile—slamming down Marjorie Taylor Greene and Republicans at two consecutive State of the Union addresses. Later on, Biden came alive a bit more, and was more focused, particularly as Trump became a bit more meandering, pushing his lies. Biden flashed a rare smile or two, and he gave some cogent push back. But it was probably after a lot of people tuned out. Phones blew up, and by the end of the debate, many of us were asking, “What are we going to do?

Two hours later, I’d taken a few deep breaths. First off, Trump was a brazen liar as usual, and one hilarious, memorable moment will be his stating, “I didn’t have sex with a porn star.” Much worse than that, however, were the insulting lies that all Americans know are dangerous falsehoods. Trump claimed the narrative around Charlottesville—that he said there were “fine people on both sides,” which we all watched him do—was “a story that has been totally wiped out.” He claimed Nancy Pelosi’s own daughter vindicated him for the attack on the Capitol on January 6th and implicated her own mother was responsible. A complete and total fabrication.

It went on and on. We won’t know for a while what the outcome of this debate is for the electorate, but Trump, who began in a very cool and collected place (for him) became increasingly agitated and spewed lies. It didn’t seem to me to do anything to bring in swing voters or assuage those Nikki Haley voters. At the same time, Biden didn’t check him on the lies, and some of these were so easy—particularly on January 6th and abortion, which Trump claimed he’d done great things on by getting Roe overturned. So, yes, it was not great. Later, however, at a Biden debate watch party aired on TV, the president came onto the stage and gave some warm words to the crowd, a short speech in which he was lucid and connected, completely in the moment. It was a relief of sorts since it proved that the most distorted imaginings of the far right regarding Biden’s mental acuity and sharpness are not true—a fear that pulsed through us during the debate—and he surely was up to the job of running the country.

He just had a really bad night. Perhaps with a cold, and at 81, we’d all have a similar night. But we’re all not running for president, and the stakes couldn’t be higher.

[...] Biden could give a speech in the coming days, not only showing he’s in the moment but also addressing what happened—and admitting it was a disaster and humbling. That would go a long way. President Obama did terribly in his first debate with Mitt Romney, and it happens with most incumbents in the first debate.

Michelangelo Signorile nails it with his post-debate recap: Biden had a bad start to the debate, and Trump didn’t do much to change the perception that he is an unhinged maniac.

See Also:

Daily Kos: Biden might be old, but Trump is an existential menace