#no i don't want kids they'll get in the way of my Ambitions I don't want that kind of responsibility

[thebirdandhersong]

I think I'm over the "men are the WOOOOOORST" hill of irrational rage :D

[luviestarz]

yoon jeonghan fic recs!

✧ such a flirt ! - @amateurasterism (it’s simple: jeonghan knows he’s a flirt, but didn’t realize you flirting back was the key to breaking him.)

✧ deeper in denial ! - @amateurasterism (if there’s one thing you know about jeonghan, it’s that he’s a tease. what happens when the teasing makes it to soonyoung’s game of spin the bottle?)

✧ MON ANGE ! - @itadorins

✧ KIDULT - @hvae (jeonghan always believed he was never fond of children, especially when he took the job at your daycare. little did he know the child in him was playing hide and seek, finally revealing itself after growing to love the kids. oh, and you too)

✧ mirror mirror - @cheolism (jeonghan asks to roleplay him being jealous and fucks you like the little desperate slut you are)

✧ It's Nice To Have A Friend | yjh x reader - @sluttywoozi (You and Jeonghan have embarked on your fifth annual Best Friends trip, but it's a bit different than usual, considering he made the reservation under Yoon Y/N and told them he was your husband. What's a honeymoon between friends anyway?)

✧ a little attention - @onlymingyus

✧ MY ATTENTION - @slytherinshua

✧ when jeonghan realizes he's in love with you - @wonwoonlight

✧ 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐍𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘 ♥︎ - yoon jeonghan ! - @hoshzone (not being able to wait until Jeonghan gets off the phone with Joshua, you decide it’d be a good idea to get yourself off on his thigh. He makes sure you pay for that.)

✧ call me by his name | yoon jeonghan [M] - @sweetlemontart (to you, one of jeonghan's most admirable trait is his candid nature. he's straightforward with most people—if he's angry, they'll definitely know. but with you? he'd rather swim the ocean day and night than take his anger out on you. well, that is, of course, unless you ask him to.)

✧ to live again | yoon jeonghan - @viastro (it’s been years since your last milestone birthday; a time when everything still felt right in the world with youth and ambition. now that you’re older and times have changed, would you dare take a chance to save someone else in the past at the cost of your own future?)

✧ 彡 my heart is beating for two. — yoon jeonghan - @seuonji (daycare worker yn! x secretary jeonghan — you’re a worker at the daycare and of course, your main priority is the safety of the kids. how’d you deal with an unfamiliar face trying to pick up one of the kids one day?)

✧ the long way | yoon jeonghan - @trblsvt (it was just like any other shoot. go in, pose, drink water, don't get food on the clothes, and don't joke around with the staff. easy. except it wasn't that easy.)

✧ — ode to you  - @lovelyhan (if there's one thing you've learned from all the lives you've spent together, it's that jeonghan isn't always someone you'll end up wanting. he can be crass. he can be secretive. he can be nothing short of vexing. but in the end, he's everything you need him to be.)

✧ rain and kisses | yoon jeonghan - @babyleostuff

✧ sharing is caring - yoon jeonghan - @etherealyoungk

✧ lowkey — yoon jeonghan - @chenfleur (Jeonghan's supposed to be on stage in twenty minutes, and he's nowhere to be found.)

✧ our dawn is hotter than day. - @ikigaisvt (in which you and your boyfriend says i love you for the first time surrounded by his friends.)

[yoyomomiko]

[ONE] — Ghosts = $$$

☆ `` SPECTRAL SCAMMERS ``

☆ — summary: when cartman comes up with yet another 'get rich quick' scheme, he forces his friends, and you, into starting a ghost hunting service. armed with a mix of makeshift equipment, a questionable van and no actual skills, you begin taking jobs to "exorcise" haunted houses.

warnings: strong language, cartman being cartman.

(a/n): first chapter is out and honestly I don't really know where this is going!! also, I'm extremely sorry for the short length of this chapter :< --- usually, first chapters are always shorter! i'll try my best to make the other chapters longer :)

wc: 1932

★ m.list

★ series m.list

[NEXT] ->

The cafeteria was a chaotic mess as always. Muffled chatter, students fighting, and the occasional shout from the lunch staff scolding some kid for trying to sneak an extra carton of milk. You sat at the usual table in the far corner, picking at your food. Across from you, Stan and Kyle were arguing about some documentary they watched in History, while Clyde was halfway through his second slice of pizza.

"Alright, assholes, listen up!" Cartman's voice cut through the arguing boys. He slammed his tray onto the table for everyone's attention, the loud sound making Tweek flinch so hard he almost spilled his coffee.

"Oh, great, what now?" Stan groaned, leaning back in his chair.

"You're gonna thank me later, Stan." Cartman cleared his throat, glancing at everyone sitting at the table. "Because I just came up with the best idea of my life. No, of your lives, too, because you're all gonna be a part of it."

Kyle raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Let me guess, some new way to scam people out of their money?"

"Yeah, Kyle, because having ambition is such a crime." Cartman shot back, rolling his eyes dramatically. "But no, this isn't just a scam. It's a business opportunity. A gold mine. And all you losers have to do is stop being such whiny little bitches and listen to me for five seconds."

"Dude, just get to the point." Stan muttered, his hands resting on top of the table as his brows furrowed together.

Cartman smirked, leaning forward on the table as if he was about to deliver a secret. "Ghost hunting."

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the distant crash of a tray hitting the floor somewhere across the cafeteria.

"Ghost hunting?" Clyde repeated with a mouthful of pizza.

"Yes, Clyde, try to keep up." Cartman snapped. "Think about it. Those dumbass ghost hunting shows on TV. People eat that crap up! We can charge idiots in this town hundreds of dollars to 'investigate' their haunted houses and get rid of their spooky little Casper problems!"

Kyle shook his head with a sigh. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Even for you, Cartman."

"It's not stupid!" Cartman shot back, slamming his fist on the table hard enough to make Tweek jump again.

"People are stupid, Kyle. They'll pay us to run around their creepy old houses with flashlights, pretending to find ghosts! And if there's no ghost? We'll just make one! Bang on some walls, throw some stuff around... Boom, paranormal activity."

"That's literally fraud." You pointed out, resting your chin on your hand. "You realize that, right?"

Cartman waved you off as if you mentioned something as unimportant as the weather. "Pfft, no one's gonna care. We'll make them sign waivers. Legal waivers make everything legit!"

Stan exchanged a doubtful look with you, then glanced back at Cartman. "This sounds like the kind of thing that gets us arrested. Or worse, sued."

"Oh my God, you guys are so dramatic." Cartman groaned, throwing his hands in the air. "Look, do you want to spend the rest of high school broke and boring, or do you wanna be rich and badass?"

"Rich and badass does sound kinda nice..." Clyde admitted, earning a glare from Kyle.

"Clyde, seriously?"

"What? I need the money! My dad cut my allowance because I spent it all on skins in Fortnite."

"I can't believe I'm surrounded by morons." Kyle buried his face in his hands.

"Ghosts aren't even real!" Tweek blurted, his hands shaking as he gripped his cup. "What if we mess with something we don't understand? What if we summon a demon or-"

"Tweek, for the love of God." Craig interrupted, his voice flat and bored. "You're not summoning anything. It's fake."

Tweek's eyes darted to Craig, then back to Cartman. "B-But even if it's fake, what if- what if people find out?! What if we get exposed or something?!"

"Tweek, no one cares about your paranoia." Cartman rolled his eyes. "Besides, it's not like we're actually gonna run into any ghosts. We're just taking money from idiots who think their houses are haunted because their furniture makes weird noise."

"I dunno, dude." Kenny finally spoke up, voice muffled by his hood. "What's the cut? Like, how much are we each getting?"

"Ah! The voice of reason! Don't worry Kenny. We'll split it... Fairly."

"Fairly?" Kyle immediately narrowed his eyes. "That means you're going to take the biggest cut, doesn't it?"

"Uh, duh, because it's my idea." Cartman shot back. "But you'll still get plenty. Enough to buy whatever poor people stuff you need, Kenny."

"Works for me, I'm in." Kenny shrugged.

"Dude!" Kyle exclaimed, looking betrayed.

"What? I need money!"

You sighed, glancing around the table. "So let me get this straight." You started, mentally preparing yourself. "You want us to break into random people's houses, pretend to find ghosts, and charge them a fortune for it? Do you even have a plan for how this is supposed to work?"

"Of course I have a plan!" Cartman replied, puffing out his chest. "Step one, we make a website and some fake business cards. Step two, we spread the word around town. Step three, profit."

"That's not a plan." Stan muttered, leaning back in his chair again.

"It's a great plan." Cartman's brows furrowed together. "And you know what? If you don't want in, fine. But when I'm rolling in cash and you're stuck eating this nasty ass lunch food, don't come crying to me."

Stan groaned, rubbing his temples. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but fine. I'm in. Only to make sure you don't burn someone's house down."

Kyle threw his hands up with a groan and a roll of his eyes. "Oh my God. You're all insane."

"Come on, Kyle." You smirked, nudging him with your elbow. "It could be... Interesting."

Kyle stared at you as if you just suggested jumping off a bridge. But after a moment, he sighed heavily. "Fine. But if this ends in a disaster, I'm blaming all of you."

"Perfect!" Cartman grinned, looking around at his newly recruited 'team'.

"Welcome to the South Park Paranormal Crew, bitches. First job is tomorrow night. Bring flashlights and maybe some fake blood."

Craig glared at Cartman. "Tweek and I never said we were joining."

"I don't care about you losers, go sit on a dick or something." Cartman shot back.

Craig's eyes narrowed, his piercing gaze burning holes through Cartman. "You know what? I'm in, fatass." He spoke through gritted teeth, to which Cartman smirked.

"I-I guess I'm in too." Tweek stammered, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

"Amazing! What do you guys say we have a meeting at my house this night to prepare for tomorrow?" Cartman held a smug and confident look.

"Do we have a choice?" You sighed, already tired of this.

"No. Eight o'clock sharp!" He declared. "Don't forget that, fuckers!"

.

.

.

.

Later that night, the group crowded into Cartman's basement. The space was a mess, an old couch shoved against one wall, half empty soda cans all over a coffee table, and a mysterious stain on the carpet that no one wanted to investigate. You sat quietly between Kyle and Craig, who were both visibly annoyed.

Cartman stood at the front, a whiteboard behind him covered in messy scrambles of ideas that looked more like the ramblings of a lunatic than a business plan. He held a marker in his hands, which he twirled dramatically before slamming it against the board.

"Alright, assholes." He began, pacing in front of the group. "Step one of becoming the greatest ghost hunters South Park has ever seen: branding. We need a website, a killer name and a look that screams 'these guys are legit'."

Stan rolled his eyes from his spot on the couch. "It's hard to scream 'legit' when you're using your mom's basement as headquarters."

"Shut up, Stan!" Cartman snapped. "Do you have a basement we can use? No? Then sit your ass down and let the professionals handle this."

Craig crossed his arms, leaning a bit closer to you, his knee brushing yours. "You don't even know how to make a website, do you?"

"Of course I do!" Cartman lied, puffing out his chest. "It's easy. You just... Click some buttons and stuff. Besides, we have Kyle for that."

Kyle straightened, glaring at Cartman. "Excuse me? Since when did I agree to be your tech support?"

"Since you're the only one here who isn't a complete moron when it comes to computers!" Cartman replied, his tone annoyingly smug.

"Watch it fatass!" Stan snapped as Craig snickered.

Kyle opened his mouth to argue but stopped when you nudged him gently. "You might as well just do it." You whispered. "The sooner we get this over with, the better."

Kyle sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "Fine, but I'm not doing this for free."

"Whatever, Jew." Cartman turned back to the whiteboard. "Now, let's talk names. We need something catchy. Something cool."

"How about we call ourselves 'Paranormal Posers'?" Craig deadpanned, earning a laugh from Kenny.

"I've got it!" Clyde exclaimed, clearly excited. "What about 'The Phantom Chasers'?"

"Lame." Cartman dismissed immediately, crossing it off the list. "We need something badass like 'South Park Paranormal Commandos'."

"Or we could just call it what it is." Stan muttered. "'Cartman's Latest Scam'."

"Do you want to get sued, Stan?" Cartman shot back. "No one's putting my name on this thing."

After another twenty minutes of ridiculous suggestions, and several rounds of arguing, you all finally settled on a name. Specter Squad.

"Simple, memorable, and cool as hell." Cartman declared, underlining it three times on the board.

.

.

While Cartman and the others brainstormed more ways to make themselves seem legit, Kyle sat at Cartman's ancient desktop computer, typing at it furiously.

The homepage was basic but effective.

A bold header reading "SPECTER SQUAD: South Park's Premier Ghost Hunting Team" in glowing green text, complete with a stock image of a haunted house in the background.

"This looks so fake." Kyle muttered to himself, shaking his head as he uploaded a photo of the group. It was a hurriedly taken selfie from earlier that night, with Cartman front and center, beaming like an idiot, while everyone else looked irritated.

"Fake is fine." Cartman said, leaning over Kyle's shoulder. "People don't care about professional. They care about scary. Make it spooky."

"Spooky costs extra." Kyle shot back.

The rest of the group gathered around as Kyle added more details to the site.

Services

- Full Paranormal Investigation

- Ghost Removal

- Cleansing Rituals

Reviews

Janet H. - "Specter Squad saved my family from a scary ghost! Worth every penny!"

Sal F. - "I thought my apartment was haunted and they proved me right. Highly recommend!"

"Who t-the hell is 'Janet H.'?" Tweek asked, pointing to one of the reviews.

"Some lady I made up." Cartman replied, completely unfazed.

.

.

With the website finished, you all moved on to advertising. Clyde and Kenny volunteered to print out flyers, which they plastered all over the school the next day. On lockers, bulletin boards, and even the bathroom stalls.

Cartman, meanwhile, moved to social media, creating an Instagram page and spamming hashtags like #HauntedSouthPark and #GhostBeware.

"You think anyone's actually going to believe this?" Craig asked as everyone watched Cartman upload a blurry photos of an attic claiming it was 'evidence' from a recent investigation.

"Of course they will." Cartman replied confidently. "People are dumb. Trust me, by this time tomorrow we'll have our first client."

★yoyomiko ★miko

[kooki914]

I have to say I like that snowgrave analysis video. I love how you point out how noelle inherent he's mom coldness and her dad's complacency. However, I do think kris inherent their parents own flaws despite not trying to become them. Where given some dialogue that toriel was strict and controlling what asriel and kris did until recently. I mean, toriel made asriel go to church every day. Also toriel can have very authorian and harsh tone when she angry(granted it asgore not letting go). There Asgore being clingy and nit letting go on things. Sounds similar to kris-soul in snowgrave.

Hoo boy. I'm glad you liked the video but I'm not going to let this Toriel slander slide. Very long tangent under the read-more.

TL;DR: Toriel isn't a mean or harsh, especially not as a parent, and the way she acts towards Asgore is more than justified actually.

In my video, I made it VERY clear that I think the traits Kris is most mimicking are Asgore's, if unintentionally. Clinginess, constantly appealing to a sense of nostalgia and romance, and most importantly for the transactional analysis, constantly speaking from the Parent or Adult ego state to mask that they're acting on the needs of the Child state (impulsivity, loneliness, playfulness, emotional demands). Kris has abandonment issues similar to Asgore but more severe, and Kris isn't a people-pleaser like their father is - ergo, if we push them hard enough, they start acting manipulative in order to not be "left behind" again.

Toriel is, not only mature enough to properly use her Adult and Parent states, but also not really that strict at all? She's reactionary and can hold a grudge (mostly for petty things), but take a genuine look at the way she TALKS to Kris. She has a gripe with something they did for a few seconds before laughing it off (like in the case of their pie-eating) or being swayed to let them off the hook (exiting the school in ch1). Sure, these can still be seen as catastrophic or mocking from the point of view of a kid or a teenager like Kris is, but, like... they'll grow out of that. As an audience, we aren't meant to understand those scenes as Displays Of Harsh Parenting™, like we are for moments like Noelle being afraid of her mother or of Queen. Toriel is really lenient with Kris in practice, to the point I'd argue she's TOO lenient even about things like their depressive habits and lack of ambition.

She wants to ground them but when they mentioned they made a friend she drops it immediately. How is that authoritative? She took Asriel to church every day for only like a week after he had his first kiss because she's a paranoid christian worried about him. How is that HARSH? It's barely even a real punishment for Asriel, since he LIKES church, based on all the stuff under his bed and the anecdotes we get from Alvin (contrasted to Kris who only seemed to tolerate church for Fruit Juice). I don't mean to sound condescending, but if you think the way Toriel parents her kids is "harsh" I don't think you've ever actually met a mean or abusive parent.

(Tying this into a different theory of mine, the way Queen acts towards Kris showcases this too, as she's never strict or mean with them like she is with Noelle, Berdly or Ralsei. She treats them like an equal and like a fun person to be around while drunk, which is Not Good but also isn't a strict or mean parental personality. The worst of Toriel's parenting is not taking Kris' issues seriously enough and treating them with maturity before they've fully grown up and ready for that. I assume this is because Asriel's reached that level of maturity and Toriel subconsciously assumes the same applies to Kris. It be like that with younger siblings sometimes.)

Toriel can be a bit overbearing and smother her kids with affection (wanted or not), maybe a little deaf to their real needs, but NONE of that makes her a strict parent. And, maybe more importantly for this discussion, NONE of that is seen in the way Kris acts during the Snowgrave route.

Kris doesn't smother Noelle with affection, they don't make light of things she's done, they don't act overly forgiving of her transgressions, and they Certainly Don't Cave at her push-back. All of these things CAN be spun into an abusive or unhealthy dynamic for a weird route, but they weren't, deliberately so. I want you to keep in mind, Toriel is dismissive of Asgore NOW, but it's HEAVILY hinted that he slept on her couch for a really, REALLY long time after the divorce. That's not the kind of thing someone who's "authoritarian and harsh" would allow to happen. Toriel gave chance after chance to let Asgore out slowly and gently, but he refused to leave, he HAD to be kicked out. This is the OPPOSITE to what we see Kris doing in the Snowgrave route to Noelle - they're pushing and pushing and pushing and ANY sign of gentleness or compromise ends the route.

Again, I think Kris is very much embodying the Critical Parent rather than the Nurturing Parent they were raised with, exactly because of this. Even Asgore wouldn't push someone around like that, but KRIS WOULD, when backed into a corner. They're exhibiting the worst traits of their dad, while actively suppressing all the good traits their mother tried to teach them. It tracks in a psychological sense too - when you have two parents of opposite sexes, you're more likely to mimic the behaviors of the one that courted the sex you're attracted to (eg. if you're a striaght woman you're likely to act more like your mom, if you're a lesbian you're more likely to act like your dad, the ladder of which is (fun fact) seen with Noelle in general). In the Snowgrave route, Kris is romantically set up with Noelle, therefore they're mimicking the traits of the parent that courted a woman - and they're doing it without even noticing (as most of us do, this shit is hard-wired in some deep dark crevice of the human mind and even I get baffled when I notice it happening on accident).

I genuinely hate this "Toriel is mean and harsh" angle people try to take with her character for... Having A Spine, essentially. She's mean to Asgore and it's the kind of meanness that's not only warranted but also the result of a LONG time of enduring bullshit hoping it'll pass. God forbid a woman ever set boundaries, right? Because that's literally the only thing she did with him. I can't NOT acknowledge the underlying misogyny that plagues this sort of character assassination. When you look at the wider context, you see that Toriel is genuinely too quick to put other's needs before her own to her own detriment, and the current state of her and Asgore's strained acquaintanceship is just the aftermath of enduring way, way too much from someone trying to appeal to emotions that aren't even there. AND YET people frame it as her being ~mean~ and ~rude~ to Poow Widdle Asgowe UwU who's a grown man breaking his own dumbass heart because he's too obsessed with the past to leave his ex the fuck alone.

You all know me. You all know I love Asgore and would die for him. But for the love of fucking god, it is NOT Toriel's responsibility to coddle him and prioritise his feelings at every turn, ESPECIALLY when he's FAILING to consider HERS. He is a pitiable jackass and genuinely downtrodden, but that is not his ex wife's problem. She should not have to constantly worry about the feelings of a man she's not even with anymore. She shouldn't need to do a whole song and dance to let him down easy when he gives her flowers for the billionth time that she will always throw out. I hate that I have to type this out at all because some people just Don't Get their dynamic, being too blinded by the fact that Toriel DARED to stand up for herself and the guy she stood up to was SAD about it. Like come the fuck on.

What's left of their relationship isn't healthy, but it isn't unhealthy in the same way Kris and Noelle's Snowgrave dynamic is, and the broken Dreemurr household isn't wholly Toriel's fault. Asgore is the one making things worse by refusing to let go of her and move on - things probably would've been considerably better for everyone if he actually took the divorce seriously. Kris has a now nonexistent relationship with their dad because of the cumulative effect of Asgore constantly hitting on Toriel instead of doing literally anything else (like, gee I dunno, actually fixing his living situation, or even trying to bond with Kris without it involving Toriel or Asriel somehow), and Toriel shutting Asgore out because she doesn't see any other way out of having to deal with his bullshit (she is trying to avoid confrontation without bending over backwards to appeal to his emotions for the umpteenth time, and part of that involves not actively connecting Kris with Asgore because he's inevitably going to use them as a way to reach her, like we see him doing in ch1).

Yes, they're both flawed in their approaches, but I cannot in good faith let people call Toriel MEAN for what is essentially just sweeping issues under the rug because she's tired of constantly being bombarded by them. She's flawed in a lot of ways, but you are actively mischaracterising those flaws by describing her the way you did.

Is it kind of weird and nonsensical that she took Asriel to church over something as small as a kiss? Yeah, the game actively points that out. It is HARSH that she wanted to ground Kris at the end of chapter 1? No, not at all, because they essentially disappeared for an entire day without telling her. And I keep bringing up these two scenes in particular because I can't think of any other context in which her parenting can be seen as overly strict, and both of the examples are laughable. Toriel isn't a perfect mother, but there is no such thing as a perfect mother, and I think people should stop having double standards towards female characters in specific, especially concerning setting boundaries or not being completely devoted to other people's emotions.

To add a tangent to this tangent in order to wrap up the tangent, I actually kind of see this happening with Susie to an extent too, where some people in the fandom PRAISE her constantly for asking Kris if they're okay and being worried about them and Noelle. Like, yes, those ARE good traits and it shows she's a good friend, but why are THOSE the traits she's being complemented on? Why is THAT what people point to when they say she's a good person? Is it not equally as noteworthy that she's brave and doesn't take direction from anyone, not even the player? Isn't it more important to her wider characterisation that she's so out-of-the-box that she pushes other people out of their boxes, too? Isn't is clear she's much better at physical protection than any kind of emotional comfort, and why isn't THAT being complemented and praised about her?

Why is that capacity to be emotionally available what people applaud in all female characters, without exception? And why are those women and girls so heavily demonized when that emotional availability is taken away, like in Toriel's case?

And, in conclusion, I believe Spadesgore Tuffet must be canonised.

[m0e-ru]

i know your blog mainly focuses on more of the “side characters” (?) from p4 but i was curious if you had a favorite member of the investigation team? :3

side characters AHAHAUAHAA i like that theyre to the side because it makes it less pressuring to think about them compared to like an izanagillion piranhas infesting a lake about a more popular character. maybe that's why I'm repellant to them <- ??????

anyway I love risegirl from the bottom of my heart I want to brush her bangs and kiss her exposed forehead and tell her she's doing amazing and we hold hands and run around in a circle lalalalala. I don't have any pictures but shes just so sweet to me.

her idol life and masking 24/7 absolutely crushing her I'm glad she made the decision to bail and actually chill for a while a be herself with people that love her, instead of trucking on and breaking herself like other poor child idols. she has the strength to let people into her life and know that they'll accept her back. it's absolutely astounding to me that she can be so cheerful and hype up others to be their best even after everything she's been through, or maybe that's where she got her willpower in the first place. her ambitions for being an entertainer are genuine as she just wants to make little girls like she once was, and still is, be the best that they can be.

the competition and drama in the entertainment industry is predatory, but I'm also so happy she can bond and be friends with kanami and the rest of the kitchen girls, despite the rivalry being forced on poor middle school scouted idol kids.

it's so fascinating to me how she has a navigator persona, a support persona. along with her endearing and cute nature, she's keen on reading people and reacting accordingly. of course, you can't blame her for her shit reactions, with naoto most notably, because she's literally going through puberty I mean she just turned 16 cmon guys cut her some slack. she can raise people's spirit whether or not she's in her idol persona because that's her power as Rise Kujikawa, that's just the kind of person she is.

she's free to express her feelings, whether her excitement, her playful infatuation with bancho, push her boundaries when shes unsettled and needs space, being angry or annoyed or stressed, and even crying tears nowhere near crocodile tears. she's a very genuine girl and a very genuine teenager of her age. she regulates her emotions accordingly, whether or not she actually does, but it makes her feel real in that regard. there are things she'll regret once she's older but I'm glad she's living and thriving the way she's supposed to: freely—despite her working as an idol.

speaking of genuine, I love her quirks. her laugh is so cute and the way she squeals is adorable, in the english or jp dub, so props to both voice actors. she's pretty athletic, being a great dancer with enough stamina to sing along. but she's kind of shit at songwriting, with that one flavor text I thought was funny. she spends her free time outside her classroom looking at the fire alarm, tempted to ring it. she knows so much about tofu and walks around the shopping district in her apron when business is slow. she goes to remedial with kanji during the summer because their autism lies in doing vocal exercises and crocheting NAWT the pythagorean theorem.

don't get me started with her beef with marie because I think it's the cutest and most hilarious thing ever. imagine you're the labeled tsundere of the cast but your category 9 autism transfers all your tsundereism to the girl behind you. marie is hot and cold about her feelings, just being embarrassed when she puts her guard down in front of bancho usually. but she's a curious and impressionable girl, so when margaret insults the girl on TV, Marie's just going to parrot that and rise starts pouting about it "that's not how the slogan goes!!" But when bancho's out of the picture, they can be normal girl friends, eating desserts and styling outfits for each other and singing duets. hell, in pq, theodore makes a lame haiku and marie and rise giggle in unison. well, maybe rise isn't a tsundere in these cases, but her seiyuu Rie Kugimiya is known for voicing tsundere roles, some I'm already familiar with, so it's funny hearing her in her element.

I could keep going on how I love risegirl but I'm going to sleeo goodnight I love girls

[bkdk-art]

Okay. I need to get this out because this idea is literally haunting me.

So, welcome to my brainrot on how the fight between Izuku and Shigaraki / OFA and OFA will play out and how Katsuki could play a part in it 🙌🏼 Even though I know it's never gonna happen like this but anyways, let me dream a little.

[Edit: I wrote this before chapter 403 came out and our beloved returned 🧡]

I always come back to imagining the final, crucial confrontation would somehow end up happening in the vestige realm with Izuku und Shigaraki being on opposite sites and AFO trying to steal OFA from Izuku, just like in the Paranormal Liberation War Arc.

And I feel like this time the battle of emotions might be more challening for Izuku and the former OFA holders. Because, yes, they are still seven people and All Might's vestige has even more to bring to the table after his fight against AFO but so has AFO himself and Shigaraki as well. I mean, the LOV has been defeated, all his friends are in critical states, he's feeling used by AFO etc. etc.

So imagine, the forces collide and it seems to look not so well for our heroes, doom hanging not just over them but over all of Japan.

But that's when Katsuki steps in.

And in my head it plays out like this: Katsuki is entering the scene, maybe only a panel of his shoulders (him being in his UA uniform) is shown, the his feet, the drawing just hinting on him and suddenly the OFA side gets brighter and stronger and all sorts of emotions fill the space.

Namely, Katsuki's confidence, his anger, his ambition, his insecurities, his determination - with every step there're more emotions.

And then he stops, right next to Izuku. The greenhead is just shellshocked, not understanding how Katsuki is in the vestige realm to begin with and he's also so overwhelmed to see Katsuki looking like himself and not like the corpse Izuku had to witness earlier.

Katsuki, now standing next to his nerd, looks at Izuku with that soft expression that has been driving us all crazy lately and a new wave of Katsuki's emotions starts filling the realm: Tenderness, deep regret about his past behaviour, the frustration he used to feel towards Izuku when they were little and a new frustration about Izuku being too reckless, mixed with gut wrenching worry and fear, pride about Izuku's development and so, so, so much more, but all of this is nothing compared to when Katsuki holds out his hand to Izuku and-

Love. The love-kanji becomes dominant, taking up a full panel or even a full page, boosting OFA's fight against AFO's grip.

Izuku is still too stunned to think or understand anything but he would never reject Katsuki, so his hand moves on its own, wanting go grap the blond's but then he staggers, the thought of "control your heart" paralyzing him.

Because how can Izuku control his heart when it comes to Kacchan? Suddenly he's way too scared to take Katsuki's hand because everything could blow up in their faces and they can't risk one single slip against their opponents.

Daigoro, the fifth holder, who said those words all those months ago, is the one to snap Izuku out of his spiraling by saying: "Don't worry, kid, following your heart is important too."

That's all Izuku needs. He launches forward, intertwining his fingers with Katsuki's and slinging his other arm around the blond's shoulders.

Izuku lets all his suppressed feelings for Katsuki come to the surface, a storm of emotions rages through the realm and that's when AFO is hurled out of the domain, maybe even Shigaraki but leaving little scared Tenko there.

And there they are, Izuku and Katsuki, clinging to each other for a heartfelt moment until Katsuki mumbles something like "Don't you still have an ass to kick out there?"

Izuku leans back, tears in his eyes and makes Katsuki promise that they'll see each other again in the real word, that Katsuki has to come back to him. Katsuki makes the promise with a smirk, asking Izuku where else he was supposed to go.

Sharing a last, calm eyecontact in all of this chaos, Izuku gets back to end things with what's left of AFO and maybe even Shigaraki and the final fight is over, Edgeshot and Jeanist manage to save Katsuki, hero society needs to be rebuilt and all of that stuff and ~ the end.

And I'm very aware of the fact that it's not gonna play out like this but storywise it would work! Balancing the "control your heart"-theme in a more healthy way because up until now, it only has lead Izuku to supress stuff. And it would also resolve Katsuki's presence in the vestige realm and would make him the key to winning against AFO.

Because we all agree he has to play some part in it, right? But in my eyes, there's no way Katsuki could return to the real live battle field. I mean, half of his face and his dominant arm have been crushed, not to mention his heart (!) exploded (!!).

So. Yeah, that's it, that's the brainrot living rentfree in my head.

Okaythankyouforreadingthisbye ♡

[johnniesmoke]

Top Notch - Johnnie Smoke

Analysis:

Johnnie Smoke’s lyrics paint a vivid picture of ambition, resilience, and self-awareness. His words reflect an artist deeply in tune with his journey, facing scrutiny yet standing firm in his truth. The recurring themes of perseverance, destiny, and personal legacy suggest a mind that contemplates not just success but the meaning behind it. He acknowledges struggle yet refuses to be defined by it, stepping out of the smoke with confidence. The imagery of "stomping out demons" and "walking out with a stack of dough" showcases both the internal and external battles that drive him forward.

There’s a poetic duality in his work—reflecting on the past while embracing an unstoppable future. He sees himself as irreplaceable, a golden child navigating a world of skepticism and expectation. His wordplay is layered with clever phrasing, indicating both experience and introspection. References to liberty, discipline, and unwavering belief in his purpose reinforce the idea that success isn’t just about skill—it’s about unwavering commitment to one's craft. His journey, as told through these lyrics, is not just a musical one, but a testament to resilience, ambition, and the power of self-belief.

At its core, his message is clear: he’s here to make an impact, and no obstacle will stand in his way. Whether through fire, doubt, or adversity, he’s forging ahead, ready to claim what’s written in the stars.

Feeling under scrutiny, when I'm a kid who can do no wrong. /

Honest as they come, hard as it gets. /

When the day comes, my consciousness is merely love. /

I'll be ready for the praise. /

In the meantime, I'll just be wondering, what's relief? /

Singing songs about my sunset. /

What's up Cheech? I was promised a vacation. /

And I want to cash in. /

This will not be the last you heard me. /

When the seems are splitting, I'll be the one walking out of the smoke with my head held high and a stack of dough. /

It's a glow up that's written in the stars. /

I just want to play my part. /

Yeah, let bygones be bygones. /

As far as my brothers go, I want to take all I can with me. /

So I stomp out these demons. /[Write these lyrics to songs]

I jump on this opportunity to make it known. /

I send farewell wishes to kids that diss it as I watch them go where they ain't coming back. /

Classic, yeah, baby, don't you see that there isn't anybody like me? /

Hey baby!

Don't you know that there isn't anybody like us?/

I'm trying to punch through. /

I'm punching in with the best. /

Twn thousand [10,000] hours or close to the rest. /

Said they're pulling the strings like a slight with the deck. /

Like [AS IF*] I'm supposed to tell you I guess.

Top Notch - Johnnie Smoke:

Lyrics:

It's a mystery to me what more could be needed.

To get this job done with Liberty it takes a kid crazy enough. /

I'm him, a daredevil every track. /

It's a hard life. /

Talk to me like you know what it can be. /

I could be everywhere and back.

Proved I could tell you the story. /

Classic is how it should be. /

The operation is top-notch. /

Can't fund it on my own. /

The moves how to play Johnnie Smoke, the fundamentals. /

Like a ephiphany they'll know who it ought to be./

Cahoots, reminiscent. /

The word starts now. /

Johnnie Smoke, the best around. /

That's good by me. /

Check, check, commitment should mean something. /

Willingness would be their dream. /

But in life, nothing is free. /

Dweebs!/

Destiny is a big story for me. /

Headed for the best days of the endeavor. /

Push it to the limit kind of guy with magic on his mind making it every waking moment. /

That's a special kind of life, yeah, taking my sweet time, leveraging the knowledge that I shouldn't even have./

That you wouldn't have.

Truly one of a kind and I'm here for the cash. /

Had me right where you wanted me then poof dichotomy pulling all of this out of me, just being honest. /

The effort is complicated by the powers that be. /

Yeah, I know what I've seen, /

And I'm not just anybody with a microphone. /

I'm a golden child speaking of the phonies. /

Too good to be true, but if it's real, it ain't. /

And I'm writing rhymes not getting schemed./

Living in a pretty nice place, if you're asking me, /

And kind of rent-free. /

Bringing the fire is the least I can do for my people. /

[lewis-winters]

sorry, u can ignore this if u like but i been wanting to ask this queztion for days: who would the bob bous romance in bauldurs gate 3 do u think?

anon, I want you to know I fucking screamed when I saw this in my inbox like no fucking joke thank you for this overlap in my recent obsessions idk how to explain the absolute JOY this gave me the moment I saw it

first of all. i don't know if david webster would hate gale or if he would like gale. gale "of waterdeep" dekarios is just david webster but with magical powers and a very toxic ex girlfriend. do you understand me? do you get it? do you see the vision? either he hates him because like repels like, or he loves him because he sees something familiar in him and web's a little self-absorbed that way. DO YOU UNDERSTAND, TELL ME YOU UNDERSTAND--

second, let's get this out of the way. speirs WOULD play dark urge. he would play dark urge and enjoy killing people. that has nothing to do with who he romances. i just need you to know that i think he would enjoy being the faerun's anti-christ and bhaal-daddy's favorite little boy. speirs would ALSO go for gale, mostly because he'd be VERY intrigued by gale's ambition as well as endeared by how gentle he is as a character. he's like... that's my slightly fucked up little guy!

third-- you just want to know who'll go for astarion, would you? you just wanna know, don'tcha? well i have an answer for you-- the answer is lip, malarkey, chuck, web, and dick! the ones who give you very strong omg i can fix him vibes. dick would be very upset if he accidentally ascends astarion though, are you fucking kidding me? he'd be SO upset.

bill guarnere and alton more would go for him, too, because they're chaotic. they'll do their damnedest to ascend astarion. and also because they're horny and astarion is unfortunately their beautiful princess with a disorder.

LEWIS NIXON WOULD HATE ASTARION DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME??? HE WOULD SEE HIM AS A MIRROR THAT REFLECTS ALL HIS WORST TRAITS BACK AT HIM DO YOU UNDERSTAND? DO YOU GET IT? lewis nixon WOULD however? go for wyll or gale, because they're both gentlemen, and lewis likes gentlemen. or he'd go for halsin, because if lewis nixon is anything, he is RIDDLED with daddy issues. though if he went for halsin he'd prolly break up with him in the end.

babe heffron would also go for wyll or halsin if he's playing a tav that's a bit closer to who he is irl. he might also go for karlach, because i feel like babe's type in men is the exact opposite of his type in women? like, he'd want a tall and buff lady who could break him in half but be real sweet about it, ya know? he might also go for shadowheart but fumble it so so so badly. he'd misclick and accidentally tell her he wants to break up.

eugene roe would find karlach and wyll very endearing and would go for one of them for sure. he'd view it as a win when they all end the game together in avernus. eugene roe can have a girlfriend and a boyfriend at the same time. as a treat.

i headcanon that harry likes mean girls (my iteration of kitty grogan is very much a mean girl) and because he likes mean girls, lae'zel and shadowheart are DEFINITELY up his alley. if he's doing an evil run, minthara, too. he'd also be very upset that he can't romance jaheira.

halsin or karlach for johnny martin. because he likes them big. he likes them chunky.

joe liebgott........ HAHAHAHA ok. he'd be so messy at this game he'd be trying to fuck everyone. he would ALSO go for astarion, but only in the beginning. i think he'd rather shadowheart, tbh, but I also think he'd go for karlach. he'd have a soft spot for lae'zel though. recognition through video game characters, i guess.

that's all I've got now though HAAHAHAHAH

[letterstopedrito]

#9

Dear Pedro,

I just saw this Sylvia Plath quote...

"What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.”

It... hit home. Really hard. I'm one of those "gifted kids," the ones who get told that they'll go on to do amazing things, important things. I got that shit all the way through college. I realized when I was about 16 that I was never going to live up to the idea people had of me. It got worse in college, when I realized that I had no idea what I wanted to do. All the ambition and drive of my youth, all the work I put in, all that praise led to... nothing.

I decided to be a teacher because I could not fathom what the fuck else I was supposed to do. And I hated it. I despised that job. It felt like I was battling this behemoth without any weapons at all, to try to teach and help these kids. I had no resources, no support, and the system is terrible. I couldn't handle it, so I quit. Now I'm a copy editor.

So I was supposed to be great, I had all this promise and I had this great education. And what I turned out to be was another mediocre millennial working from home. There is truly something horrific about the idea of being useless or unimportant.

I feel like I'm still young enough to fix my trajectory. I guess I could write a book of poetry and get it published. But I don't think mine is good enough for all that. I don't know. Basically, my whole life I was told I was going to be something and I ended up not being that. It's embarrassing, it's difficult. I want to be happy with where I'm at. I should be! But I don't know how to be satisfied with "fading out into an indifferent middle age."

Later Pedge,

G.

[maythevoidnotscreamback]

Anyone wonder what Lorule's three Triforce Virtues were called?

Were they ever mentioned in one of the Books that Nintendo made for this, that, and the other thing?

I ask because, from Hilda's general dialogue, I'm pretty sure they're not the same as Hyrule's. Especially when one considers how the inhabitants of Lorule are and how they live, even though one could say they'll all get better now that their Triforce is back in action, and the land is safe from becoming naught but a place of corruption and death. I believe that it is just how Lorule is however. It's meant to be Hyrule's mirror, right, and thus how they do things is more on the side of 'doing something good for selfish reasons' or 'doing something good but making it seem like it's a bad thing' or something along the lines of being a society of 'Anti-Heroes' for lack of a better term. I'll try my best to explain.

Like, does anyone remember Lorule's Blacksmith's Wife? She brings Link into her husband's forge to lay him down and we hear her, "How does this kid expect to survive two seconds in Lorule if he's-? Well, well, well... Lookit this! Oh, I'm sorry. Did I wake you? How was your nap?! Don't even know why I brought you back. Shoulda just left you passed out in the middle of the road... Now that you're awake and I see you're OK, you can see yourself out the door. Go on now, scoot!" You'd think that, if the place was truly corrupt or something similar, it wouldn't matter to her that you're okay, or she'd at least demand all the rupees you might have had when you got there for "compensation" or "saving your life" type of thing or even left you where she found you instead of taking the time and energy to bring you in. But no, instead, she just tells you to git without asking or demanding anything in return! Now, if he was in the same situation but in Hyrule, obviously his first time there and knowing no one, "It's dangerous being passed out in the road, so I brought you in. And since you're not hurt there's no need for you to pay me back. Stay safe wherever you're going," but since he was in Lorule she was a helluva lot meaner. I'm of the opinion that being so abrasive, one can even say 'bitchy', might very well be cultural or integral to Lorule's society. And since Hilda is its Princess, her speech is affected in a similar manner but being of a higher caste it sounds a bit more polite if pretentious and/or slightly snobby. It's all a matter of changing how you sound and think, your words and tone, to do good while acting like you're 'bad'.

With all that, my opinion is that Lorule's Virtues aren't Power, Wisdom, and Courage, but instead are Ambition, Pragmatism, and Cunning; in order to compliment their respective 'avatar'. Yuga is Ambitious, Hilda is Pragmatism, and Ravio is Cunning. Why something like those 'virtues', especially when one can say that they aren't virtues at all? Because of the simple fact that, though one can argue otherwise, the 'virtues' of Power, Wisdom and Courage aren't virtues either. They are words. The meanings given to them as a whole is shaped by the people who use them, whether for good or ill. Yes, we've seen how Power can corrupt so many damn times, but there's also how Wisdom and Courage can corrupt too; we just usually don't see it because we're playing a Hero and a Princess trying to save the land they love and so we associate those two as the 'good ones' despite it not being Din's fault that she and her virtue are being scapegoated (technically) as the 'bad Goddess' all because of Ganondorf/Demise. One can say that too much courage leads to recklessness, but they never realize that corrupted courage can lead to senseless or 'justified' murder depending. And corrupted Wisdom is basically being able to rules-lawyer your way to get what you want and leave the one or those who oppose you without recourse because they don't know how or what else to do.

Anyway! Back to Lorule's Triforce. Ambition, Pragmatism, and Cunning. Ambition is obvious; it's just too bad for Yuga that he got too Ambitious in the end and so had to be destroyed. Pragmatism is because, well, Hilda is a Princess/Queen-to-be of a dying land/world because her ancestors pragmatically got rid of their Triforce to stop the constant fighting for it (unknowing at the time how bad a decision it was) and so she has to choose between giving her people a chance to live at the expense of the lives from a lighter mirror world or leaving said lighter mirror world, of which is thriving, alone and face how everything she knows and loves will soon become non-existent without its heart to keep it going. Cunning is because, well, Ravio is a coward but, he was still able to find a way to help his Princess and home while not truly getting himself involved in the fight. Hell, I don't even think anyone on Lorule's side of the divide knew he'd been doing it, but because of him and his Cunning, no matter how unintentionally, he was able to keep both worlds from being sacrificed or lost!

Do you agree or disagree? What do you think Lorule's Virtues are?

[cantkillhales]

I hate to be that person, really, but if I get called a hater then it's literally whatever do not gaf 😂. Eat my ass. I don't want to hate, just to be realistic. But so many people are Tumblr are so incredibly delusional about becoming "multimillionaires" or filthy stinking rich one day.

Not saying y'all won't come into wealth one day, but in order to become a multi-millionaire you would have had to be given a small loan of $100K. Or had rich parents/families. No amount of "grinding" or intermittent fasting is going to get you within reach of that. The vast majority of us on this app will not ever become that, but scrolling on here for 2 minutes or less I see like 18 different people having affirmations "I am EXPENSIVE and will be rich one day". Changing your attitude DOES bring in prosperity and wealth, yes, but millions?? MULTI-millions???? C'mon now 💀.

I don't want people to not have ambitions, I'm just saying be realistic. Wake up and smell the 🥀. It's just so delusional on here, like real bad. Being delusional does help with some things, but the greater part of humanity lived and died middle class. Working class. Poor.

And you haven't lived any less of a life if you aren't filthy stinking fucking rich. You can still attract beautiful, sensual, prosperous moments in your life without becoming a multimillionaire. Your life isn't small because of that. Me personally, I just want to be a thousandsnaire 💀💀💀. And to stay busy and curious. If I find a rich husband and become rich, great. If not, GREAT.

But I don't want to kid myself. I feel like too many of us on here are just way too balls deep in fucking Lala Land with this becoming millionaires shit. It's not different than all the tech bros who think they'll become an Elon Musk when they will fucking NOT 🤣🤣🤣💀😭.

Rant over.

[7r0773r]

There's Always This Year: On Basketball and Ascension by Hanif Abdurraqib

And besides, it might do all of us some good to reconsider what making it even means, or at least to honor a world where making it is not defined by the glamorous exit, not only by television cameras, not only by coming back with a pair of trophies riding shotgun. What, after all, do you call it when your name is good on every block you touch, or when kids gather around porches to hear stories of when you were great, even if you haven't held a ball in a meaningful game in decades. When you don't have to pay for a drink, when the guys at the corner store wave you off while you reach into your pockets. What do you call it when players who came after you fight back tears at the mere memory of you, at the mere mention of your life now, the path you made. Someone who ages, thank God. Someone who lives beyond their past selves. But someone who is also bronzed, a monument embedded in the emotional infrastructure of a place. People will remember you, sweat-slicked and twirling through two defenders, splitting the foolish ambitions of your enemies. People will remember you, swinging from a rim with your eyes wide open, as if you can't believe that you got that high and can't believe that you have to come down. People will point to a kid wearing an Allen Iverson throwback jersey or a pair of Kobe Bryant sneakers and shake their heads, and maybe they'll say Estaban smoked all those fools once. And that's it, I promise you. Once is all it takes. It takes you, and a ball, and someone between you and the basket. You have won once, a single time, and worn your victory around your neck until it grew rust, and then wore it for years after. Don't talk to me about any version of making it that ends with someone like Estaban Weaver being described as a failure. Not if you weren't here. Not if you don't know what it's like for a city to make you into a savior before you finish ninth grade. Not if, despite that, you survived. (pp. 88-89)

***

Sometimes there are funerals, and sometimes there is nothing. No portal through which grief can be passed, no housewarming for the new grief that furnishes the ever-growing tower that we carry, that we are responsible for, whether we want to be or not. Both landlords and tenants within our own sadness, and sometimes it just happens. Grows while you sleep. Death isn't the only way to die, though it can be argued that it is the most merciful. (p. 90)

***

The greatest engine within the machinery of deception is mercy. The mercy visited upon you by those who know something is amiss but don't say shit. Who know the machinery is what is keeping you going, granting you a little bit of dignity. And the deception that mothers all other deceptions I may try to finesse past you is the one that whispers in my ear and tells me I keep all of my heartbreak in the chamber. Zip it up before going out into the world. But oh, how it overflows, even when I have prayed that it doesn't. And so I suppose I should assume there are many people to thank for their mercies. The friends who never asked the questions I didn't want to answer about the same clothes two days in a row or why a new person opened the door of my apartment when they knocked once and then never again.

But yes, also, the kind woman who once handed me a key to a storage unit I couldn't afford and who also, surely, heard me rustling around in that unit on the mornings I couldn't get out in time and who never knocked and who, when her manager came to do inspections on a morning I was tucked, trembling, in my sleeping bag, steered him in another direction, telling him I've checked these already outside of my door, the faint echo of her lie breathing life into my own prolonged lie. And yes, the library workers who did not shake me back to the living when I had nodded into a dream where I was free, and I mean the good kind of free, a dream no storm could snuff out. And yes, whoever saw fit to open the doors of the downtown church a little early on the mornings, and whoever saw fit to leave blankets on the pews, and whoever saw fit to play the gospel so low it became a morning lullaby, women singing about God and those who have run toward God and been lifted up beyond the wreckage, and I am thankful, too, that I did not, in that moment, stand over the cauldron of my rage. I am thankful that I simply slept, bathed in the glow of stained glass and the hues of the pastel Christs. But there was rage. I came to God once. I made a deal. I said If you give me this, I will give you anything. We both knew I was a liar. I suppose God is under no obligation to be merciful about our deceptions. (pp. 125-26)

***

There were years before the fences crowned with barbed wire. Years before the monochromatic manufacturing plants began to sprawl, before concrete was poured over the grass, over the brightest shouts of the yellow flowers. Before the parking lots and the cars, flooding the lots so tightly one could barely walk among them. Mostly, though, it was the time before the simplest, most mundane pleasures could be governed by fear.

In those years, when I was still young, my father would take my brother and me to a field that pushed right up against the airport. It is hard to imagine now, because of all of the aforementioned architecture designed to keep people away, or at least keep people with idle time and idle intentions away. But you could walk right up to the airport in those days. The Greenbrier housing projects were next to it, and our complex was just down the street. We'd drive most days, but if one wanted to, one could, in fact, walk straight onto the field, sit in the tall grass, lean back among the flowers, and watch the planes take off.

We'd always go at sunset, mostly on Fridays after my father got off work. It was one of the rare times with my father that demanded silence. No speaking, no music pushing the limits of stereo speakers in a car or living room. You were so close to the runways at the airport that you could feel the ground tremble when a plane was preparing to take off. That is how you knew to look up. The soil would jump, slightly, brown specks spilling over onto the brown hand pushed against the earth. And then, moments later, the reveal. From behind the airport building or a single tower interrupting the sky, a plane would emerge, the front of it tilting back, a mouth drinking in the sun's final offerings, brightness collapsing atop another, more alarming brightness. A metal machine, large and loud at first and then smaller, smaller, smaller, silent, gone.

At that age, I never thought there were people inside of the planes. I never imagined anyone leaving anywhere, or who they might be leaving behind. It all just seemed like a show, no different than the explosion of fireworks. Temporary decorations before the sky went black. (pp. 169-70)

***

Though I suppose fire is a type of song, too. Some might say fire is the song that arrives after all the begging has exhausted itself and after all those who reasonably asked and prayed and wept rise from their knees and make use of newly idle hands. Don't know what good it is to burn a few cheap jerseys and a pair of sneakers, but fire sho' gonna have its say, one way or another. Just let anyone who has ever stood in front of a police precinct with fingertips reeking of gasoline, wrapped around a bottle, a lighter itching in their pockets, tell it. Just let anyone taping a bomb underneath a car tell it. Just let the niggas who want their hood back one way or another tell it, but definitely don't let the gentrifiers ever tell it. And look, I'm not placing a value or morality judgment on the shit (I suppose it depends on who and what is doing the burning and what brought the burning to life), but fire is a song, fire be a whole symphony if you allow it to be. And I don't just mean its sounds, the way it disrupts the sky with a snapping of fingers—rhythmic if you catch it on the right notes (I suppose it depends on who and what is doing the burning there, too). I mean the hands, I mean its makers, I mean the things that drag people to its urgent heat, to watch and to spread its gleeful damage. The people who bring every wayward feeling they've held behind a near-bursting door and throw it in the flame. People who bring what some might plainly call sadness but what we know as the dry and fraying pages of our past lives, peeled off and accumulating in all the places we can't avoid and so let's instead say haunting. Yes, bring your hauntings down to the fire and throw them in. Bring not just the trinkets and tokens of dismantled love but bring your broken hearts, the whole damn faulty machine. There are enough new ones to go around. There are those who might say fire carries a mercy with it, which I take to mean that it doesn't prolong the anguish. In the promised land, on the other side of this sometimes-wretched scroll of miserable, spinning days, I would guess that the decorum there will suggest that we not ask each other how we died or what dying felt like, the same way that those who have been locked up don't ask people how they got there. [paragraph break added]

But the living have thoughts on burning alive. Scientists say that it's the worst feeling imaginable at first. But then, nothing. The heat from the fire quickly chews through nerves, senses, renders the dying person without feeling. The dying person, they say, is transported toward a type of ecstasy. Forgive my wandering into the fantasies of no longer living, once again, but I would want to hear from someone who crossed over, who spun through the flame and ended up in the after-life. No telling how I'll go whenever I go, but I am skeptical of anyone living who suggests that any part of dying is less painful than it seems, in the physical sense or otherwise. But I want to believe. Knowing as I do that I absolutely will one day have both legs over the fence that divides living from whatever comes after, and knowing as I do that leaping from the top of that fence might not be my choice. I would like to believe in this idea of ecstasy, or at least a moment when there is awareness of what consumes us but no physical feeling to attach it to. I respect fire like I respect any song that bends to the desire of the person who summons it. The flame is political, of course, but it is sometimes mundane, sometimes romantic, sometimes simply a necessity, and not all necessities are political but some certainly are mundane and a few damn sure are something close to romantic. And speaking of burning for a brief, candescent moment before there is nothing left to be felt, this, too, is longing. This, too, is at least one stage of heart-break. The earliest stage, when any damage will do and it is seductive to watch some shit go up in flames, even though the burning won't bring back anything any of us miss or love. But that ain't the point. I get why the jerseys burned in Cleveland, I get why the men gathered around and sacrificed their once-beloved garments. How quickly can we get past the part where we feel everything and cross the other threshold, gasping and numb. (pp. 198-200)

***

Though I had been seduced back under the familiar covers of Ohio for far more trivial reasons than basketball, this time I didn't make the trip home only to watch a game on a TV in a pal's living room. On June 6, 2016, Columbus police murdered twenty-three-year-old Henry Green. Green was a victim of the city's newly minted Summer Safety Initiative, brought to life by the mayor, encouraging police to target "hot spots," places in the city deemed to be at risk for crime. 

The murder happened in the early not-quite-summer that hovers over central Ohio. The days are longer and gripped by an extension of twilight, but whatever real freedom summer can contain for anyone not beholden to the schedule of school hasn't been determined yet. At 6:30 p.m., Green was walking back to his aunt's house with his friend, Christian Rutledge. A white SUV with tinted windows swerved in their direction, and two white men jumped out. Plainclothes cops. Jumpout boys. Wearing shorts and T-shirts and pointing guns. Rutledge heard one of the men shout You gonna pull a gun on me, motherfucker? before firing. Rutledge ran; Green was hit seven times. He was taken to the hospital. His parents were not allowed to see his body. There was blood on the sidewalk where he was given CPR, where people would place lit candles in the days to come. In the immediate aftermath of this kind of violence and the tremors of grief that encase this kind of violence, there are logistics of healing that escape the grander designs of burial, of taking meals to a family's doorstep. How does a person's blood get washed away from a sidewalk on a block they lived and loved in, on a block where they waved to neighbors, carried groceries home? What of an early and humid summer where the clouds sit, overburdened with rain they refuse to release?

Whatever is left behind dries and turns a dark crimson, the wayward light from candles flickering over what remains—a strange kind of memorial, a strange kind of haunting. I got home, and before going to the store and then to watch the game, I went to the street where Henry Green was murdered. It was a street I knew, a street near where I'd played ball before, hustled on basketball courts before, near places where I'd slept when I had nowhere to sleep. When I got there, I had nothing to clean the ground with, and if I did, I'm not sure it would have been the most appropriate step for me to do such a thing. But I remember what was left

5:19

of the blood and I remember the light from a candle hovering over it as the sun began to set and I remember staring down at my shoes and I remember feeling like the concrete was opening up and I know this to be nothing but rage I know this to be what comes after swinging wild punches at the air and imagining the faces of your worst demons the cops the politicians who call the places you love war zones the helicopters that won't let you sleep that claw through the walls and wake up elders and children and goddamn I remember at my feet that blood-stained concrete just split right in half and opened up and I want a whole city underground if it does not love my people I want to bury the new condo developments instead of my people I want to bury the craft breweries and the barcades and the mixed-use helltowers instead of my people I want the statues melted down I want the mothers of murdered children to do it I want the heat to rise from a statue's vanishing and last for ten summers I don't want apologies anymore no not this time I want the mayor to walk through a place he called a war zone at night I want people to get real honest with themselves about what war actually is I want the schools to have heat I want the schools to have air I want the riot gear thrown in the river the river that was blue when I was a boy but now leaves brown streaks as it runs away from the city I want the brown river to carry the riot gear to some other hell and I want the babies to stop passing out in school do you hear me I want a whole city under the ground some days but I at least want the rain I at least want something to wash the blood away so that no one who loved him has to and somewhere beyond the blood what I don't remember is

5:00

when I learned not to run from the cops and I don't remember when I first ignored that advice. But I always laugh in movies when there are people running from cops, who stop abruptly, fear in their eyes, when they hear a gun cock, or hear a shot fired in the air. If there is a usefulness in being able to see what's coming, it comes when one feels like one has at least a little control over what the outcome might be.

But we're talking cops—motherfuckers you know are cops. Who roll up in the blue and whites or at least roll up on you wearing the uniform of treacherous empire. Easy to spot and easy to plan around.

Henry Green was murdered by what looked like two plain dudes hopping out of an SUV with blacked-out windows. There's a difference when one gets rolled up on that way. Running might be in the cards, sure, but you might stay fixed to the ground just long enough to see what's going on, even if it seems like it might be what does you in. This is, in part, what makes the jumpout boys exceedingly nefarious, operating in neighborhoods using tactics that have a very specific translation and more of reaction that shifts, ever so slightly, from how someone might react to sirens, to a badge. The officers that pulled up on Green were supposed to be acting as surveillance in the neighborhood, calling in a cruiser if anything looked suspicious. This stuck with me when I first heard the story in Connecticut. I don't trust anyone who isn't from where I'm from, who doesn't live where I live, to report anything as "suspicious" or "not suspicious," and yet this is the ecosystem that I've known and had to rely on, that people I love are subjected to. Tourists wandering through areas they don't have any connection to, speculating on people they couldn't care less about. Life and death, determined by the haphazard tourism of people who believe they are eternally at war with everyone but themselves. (pp. 278-82)

***

If I haven't made it clear yet, this is all about the good fortune of who gets to make it out of somewhere and who doesn't. Who survives and how. But let it be known that some of us

0:30

never once dreamed of leaving. Never thought about making it out of any place as glorious as this. Tell me if you have ever built a heaven out of nothing, and then tell me what it would take for you to look for a new one somewhere else. The people who circle this heaven from the outside wouldn't know this. Might think that everyone is trying to make it somewhere else, through ball, through music. That's another myth. Crack rock or jump shot. Courts and cages and caskets. Everyone getting out one way or another, or so some might say. Some with no imagination, who speed through the hood, who speculate about sneakers ornamenting telephone poles. Who read stories of gunshots dragging serenity from the arms of nighttime. Some who imagine a place with no fathers, who—relying on that myth—believe mothers and grandmothers incapable of the type of ferocious affection that might pull a child back from any ledge they run toward. I never wanted to be anywhere other than where I was, my two feet planted on concrete that was breaking, but satisfied to still be of use. I never wanted to stray far from the shitty speakers weighing down old trunks, the symphony of bass and rattling metal, the smoke that drifts from an open window, an arm swinging from it, a wrist dangling out the side, a gold bracelet on that wrist, the sunlight running its fingers along the links, the shine of it, echoing for blocks. My people are here, and my people built the here in their image, and at least for a few precious years, there was nowhere to make it out of. We built the impossible utopia. You can't see the fence, but it's there. It'll keep you out, too, if you don't come correct. The gangs were never our enemies, but the people who look upon where we stay and see gangs in every gathering certainly were our enemies. But I ain't never gonna complain about who don't come around. If that's what it takes, then yes,

0:25

gang everywhere. A gang of stars mobs the infinite, cloudless black. A gang of black blooms infinite through a mob of dripping light, which reflects off of the sweat mobbing the skin of the black kids who should be home but are instead ganged up on the dying summer, the night itself sweating out a gang of shouts that swallow the gang of sirens, the echo of a ball fired off of a backboard mobs the silence, which was hardly ever silence around here anyway. A whole gang of porches and mobs of good folk set atop them, a gang of shoes or bare feet stomping the old wood, beckoning a mob of dust to fly skyward before settling right back down where it was, where it has always been, the homie leans back in the grass while a gang of fireflies decorate the absence above our heads and he says I'ma have me a gang of kids, and my kids gonna have a gang of kids, and we ain't never leaving. We gonna own a whole block of houses, right here in the hood. (pp. 313-15)

[bbxteeblog]

I miss the ignorant me, the one that had no idea what was ahead of her but with more energy and more willingness to reach for things. I miss that burst of confidence, I miss the way she would just show up and do the work, no matter how small. When the pandemic hit, it made me aware how little life means to me, how little purpose I had, and how many different people will keep disappointing me. I keep getting overlooked and abandoned. I know I am a insecure person, I know my skin isn't very thick because words and events will takes it critical hits on me and my self-esteem. The positive voice that I barely have isn't much for encouragement and not even the constant parent nagging and controlling behavior is substantial to want to do things for myself. I am still this lost, confused person with nothing. There's no ambition, there's no passion, there's nothing I am good at and I don't even have any friends. Friends that rather post on twitter instead of sharing their life with you says something, friends that gets mad at you for opening up and just shoves the problems back at your face. No wonder I stopped talking about my feelings, my feelings don't mean anything. Whatever I do, doesn't please anyone and I don't know how to just live happily. I don't know how to handle stressful situations without blaming myself every step of the way. There's a reason why I fade out people that "reach" out to me, I feel I don't deserve their time because I have nothing to offer. The person I feel "comfortable" is someone that cares but doesn't love me. I don't know if I really mean anything or if they'll miss me if I ever was gone because they never message me first or ask me anything. I am so lonely, every day has gotten difficult to do normal things. I am more tired, more exhausted than before when I don't go outside or work anymore. I feel so trapped no matter where I am, like I am holding myself prisoner for a crime I never committed and yet I feel I deserve this isolation and emptiness. Who the hell am I these days? I am not a friend, not a job, not a good daughter, I am not anything. Makes me wonder if I ever knew who I was to begin with, I feel so broken and nothing sticks to me, nothing puts me together. I feel so envious of people that are getting married, engaged or have kids. I feel jealousy when I don't want to be that person, some kind of villain in someone's else story.

[eveningspirit]

@destrokkit: #i do think that the same problem langdon has with patients extends to his personal life and marriage #just like santos' past trauma affects her ability to follow orders #i believe they want to do better and be better but because this #is a drama series they'll have to learn by something happening to them

Interesting takes, both of you.

OP, I think Langdon may have been similar to Santos in the way he would do procedures without waiting for someone higher up to approve them. That hit the nerve in him, in Santos's behavior, and maybe there's a reason. Maybe he learned the hard way why an intern may have the knowledge, but does not possess the experience of older doctors.

However, I think his motivation was different? Although. First I'd have to figure out what is Santos's motivation. Is it purely ambition? Does she have a narcissistic streak where she truly believes she knows better? Maybe. She lacks empathy and has no reagard for her patients. She treats them like objects, not people. Same with her coworkers. That's how she seems to me.

Now, Langdon is impatient, but whether this comes from his nature, or the pressure of the ED, could be debated. Perhaps in slower enviroment he would take the time to connect with the people in his care? Perhaps not, idek. He seems empathetic, attentive and perceptive though. Certainly toward Mel and Whittaker.

One thing I noticed, is that even though he seems self confident, he kind of isn't. In that conversation with Robby about the position of ED Medicine Teacher, he was like, "nah, I don't stand a chance." It resonated with me for reasons ;) It's pure headcanon, but I think that, if he was doing medical procedures early on, without waiting for a supervisor's approval (the way Santos did), it was because he was trying to prove himself. To prove that he could, if that makes sense.

So, that would be very different from Santos. If Santos indeed is damaged to the point of narcissism.

As for @destrokitt's observation that the problem Langdon has with patients--the lack of patience and compassion--extends to his family life, I'd say... no. I know it's sexist, but I do think it's a male thing. From experience. My hub, when my girls were around four, or younger, was exactly the same. He had to be taught by me applying very blunt force, multiple times, that what I do at home is hard work (in addition to fulltime dayjob, fml). It took him ten years and my depression to finally get it. Change occured gradually over those ten years though. I think it's in how they (boys) are raised? Idek. I love what Dana is doing. Vacation without hub, kids and a dog (yes, we got a dog when Big Girl was five and Little Girl was two, althout it was partially my idea ;)), was my dream for years.

Why do I even like this type of men? Oh, maybe because they are capable of learning?

Ehh. OP, sorry for hijacking your post and getting word-y like this. Sometimes I don't know where to stop. ;)

Dr. Santos really isn't that bad, idk why yall act as if she's committed war crimes. She is arrogant and snarky, in way over her head, but she has an undeniable charm.

I think Dr. Langdon and her are very similar. They're both somewhat inconsiderate (Dr. Langdon and the 18 year old overdose, Dr. Santos and her name-calling; Dr. Langdon not understanding the effort his wife puts into their lives, Dr. Santos and her dismissal of that one patient's trauma) but are ultimately trying their best.

The main reason they don't get along is because they're both so head strong. They both don't want to admit that they could've done better, that they could've been gentler, that they could've been more empathetic.

[totiredtowrite]

Can you write aizawa meeting denkis dad and like father like son is also a himbo?

Thoughtless Man - Headcanons

Warnings - Cursing

Note: Long headcanons? Long headcanons! Now I know what you're gonna say, "But Unavailable, the only two Aizawa works you have are headcanons!" and you are absolutely correct. My brain is going down the drain, I don't think I could pull another full fic out of my backside 😩. I did have fun with this though, the loose format of headcanons is a nice break from plot development in fics hehe

sorry it took like a week lmao

Male Reader

Tired hobo man oh noo

Aizawa is just a himbo magnet

This poor poor man istg

Anyways it's himbo headcanon time hehe

Different formatting 0o0

Meeting

You met at a typical parent teacher conference

Honestly Aizawa was hoping that you would be nothing like your son, but the universe has dashed his hopes once more

You seemed very respectful though, so at least you don't sUCK-

But anyways

You yourself aren't a hero, but you fully support Denki's ambition

Aizawa actually thought it was kind of endearing how much you wanted him to succeed

He'd casually slip something in like "Where'd he get his energy from" or something like that

And you'd just kind of chuckle and go "His mom. We split up though, so I try my best to deal with him :)"

CAUGHT HIS ATTENTION

You're single?

ohoho

Well that changes everything doesn't it?

No, actually, it doesn't.

He doesn't care.

Not now at least

Aizawa's Totally Heterosexual Panic

After the conference Aizawa was doing his normal stuff

Yknow, being tired and hating his job

Everything is as usual

Until you popped into his classroom??

You could see the question marks in the air

Naturally he's like "Oh Kaminari's hot dad why r u here?"

And you'd answer with something about needing to leave something for Denki

Because I can't think of a valid reason

PLOT PROGRESSION

You, being charismatic somehow coerced him into a conversation?

And you were actually really sweet and fun to talk to???

Panic frfr

As it turns out you're just oblivious and naturally good with people

If you aren't just pretend

So now the little fact that you're single is just CIRCLING HIS HEAD

Oh no, what will this 100% straight man do?

How This Disaster Relationship Happened

This man didn't ask you out he's too much of a pussy

He can handle literally anything but this

Villains? Yeah sure he'll beat their ass

Angsty teenagers with strong quirks? Yeah he's got it

Present Mic? Kind of-

But he absolutely will not ask you out first

How rude, you had to do it

You actually ran into each other at the supermarket

You, having a kid ykyk go to the store every now and then so you don't starve

And you saw Aizawaaaaa

And you basically just run up to him n go "Aizawa-san!"

Man was terrified

Basically you struck up another conversation

One topic led to another topic, and before you knew it, you said "Hey wanna get dinner sometime?"

He got sO REd

Ofc he said yes he isn't a loser smh

And BOOM relationship

How You Are As A Couple

Cuuute

Zawa is soft for you but he will admit it the day he dies

He doesn't have to admit it though

He's obvious frfr

Present Mic and Midnight tease him about it all the time

You're picking him up from work?

Bet ur ass they'll poke fun at him

They are actually happy for him though, the man needs some love

Aizawa is surprisingly affectoinate

He won't initiate anything though

He'll just kind of hover around you until you invite him to cuddle

man is hopeless

But now for the elephant in the room

Your son 0-0

Denki actually didn't know you and Aizawa were together until like 2 or 3 months after

Aizawa had left his keys at your place

And you figured "hey why not give them to him, it's along the way to my work anyways"

So you pull up to UA

Check in through the front (cause security ykyk), and head to his classroom

You open the door, say "hey babe you left your keys," dropped the keys on his desk, gave him a kiss on the cheek, waved to denki, and left

The chaos you just walked away from

"AIZAWA-SENSEI'S DATING MY DAD???"

Kirishima and Mina will not let him live it down

Denki totally calls Aizawa dad just to gauge his reaction

So much chaos I love it

[johnniesmoke]

Peacekeeper - Johnnie Smoke - Analysis - Song - Lyrics

The lyrics explore themes of ambition, paranoia, and self-actualization while questioning societal extremes. The speaker presents themselves as a figure navigating a world where money serves as both a peacekeeper and a source of conflict. There’s a reflection on the loss of integrity in modern society, contrasting past values of honor with the present’s obsession with validation. The repeated question, “What do you know about it?” challenges listeners to consider their own understanding of struggle and ambition.

There’s also a strong sense of resilience and evolution. The speaker acknowledges setbacks but asserts their mastery, refusing to be outpaced. The line, “They blew the whistle on me,” suggests an awareness of being targeted or underestimated. Yet, rather than deter them, it reinforces their drive. The juxtaposition of paranoia and self-assuredness suggests an ongoing battle between doubt and confidence.

The closing verses emphasize legacy and purpose. Despite skepticism, the speaker remains committed to their path, driven by an unshakable belief in their role. It’s an anthem for perseverance, success through struggle, and staying true to one’s own rhythm in a world full of noise.

What the f*** do you know about it? / What the F*** do you know about the moment? / Paranoia running through their minds. / Ain't no one out to get you. / Money is the peacekeeper. / Money is the reason I keep it sublime and the reason the other side looks like a bunch of drama queens. / But you're on me, because we can't have it both ways. / Well, it's hardly over. / Yeah, I'll be who I need to be, while the whole world is vetting extremes. / Yeah what happened to all the honest people that went about their business, that knew grit, that saw a reward in being seen as a man of honor? That didn't have all that time to overthink. / Slapped by reality. / Went out and provided graced with education. / Well you raised a gunner. / They don't make them like you anymore. / And nah, they'll never love you. / It wont ever love you how it loves me. / It's about time we come clean. / Johnnie the rook, it took time to calibrate myself. / Ain't no handbook. / Let the barbecue marinate. / A couple trips to Californ I A, just how I slide. / Puerto Rico is tradition at this point. / Ain't no flower child. / By now you should know. / Don't worry about me, I'll get by. / Yeah, I'll be fine. / An industry enabled by technology. / Sure, coach me up. / Kid by lease, it's a fair price. / Producers name behind the music my names behind the verses/ Merit to the flow, merit to the contents of the poem. / Tell you how it is, because I don't want you thinking too hard about her. / Sure, it's been a long minute. / More life. / Put some respect on my name. / Tortured by what I know, you'll find the power somewhere in a low./ Somewhere down the road. / It could be tomorrow that you'll be feeling right at home./ Under a wing because homies limping. / Speed and precision, hitting missiles on the course./ The whole scene is coerced./ Who do you think you're trying to play? / Can't say any of y'all be beat me at my own game. / That's what it means to be a master because they blew the whistle on me./ Blew the whistle on the game. / Said it's go time, Johnnie. / You've got the world to save. / The thanks I'll get will be belated. / What the f*** do you know about it? / What the f*** do you know about the moment? / Paranoia running through their minds. / Ain't no one out to get you. / Money is the peacekeeper. / Money is the reason I keep it sublime./ And the reason the other side looks like a bunch of drama queens. / But you're on me because we can't have it both ways. / Well, its hardly over. / So I'll be who I need to be while the whole world is vetting extremes. / Yeah, what happened to all the honest people, people that went about their business, that knew grit, that saw reward in being seen as a man of honor? /