#of my perception of what shes able to do i doubled down on me doing them instead of her even though she assured me she was able

[sereniv]

apologies are hard and can be embarassing

but life is too short to let your grandma go to bed sad

[inoreuct]

drink from me

a sherry-laced conversation about thirst and running away. zosan | 2k | hurt/comfort

Being a coward isn’t as easy as one might think.

It’s juxtaposition in its own right; cowardice is, as defined, a lack of bravery— And yet Sanji supposes it takes bravery to be able to ditch everything you stand for. To turn tail and run. Bravery to bear upon your shoulders the disappointment of everybody who had ever believed in you. 

He sighs deeply, tilting the bottle in his hand so that the dregs of liquor slosh within. This is why he doesn’t drink.

It’s relatively easy most days. To lock his past behind a set of double doors, bar the handles with a padlock and chain so he can pretend that everything he’s running from isn’t just three paces behind, snapping at his heels, starved and ready to eat him up whole. Alcohol slots the key back into place and twists it without his permission. Twists his heart until it aches.

He doesn’t know why he’d started. The bottle of sherry had sat, nondescript and guileless and half-full on the galley table after the night’s dessert, and Sanji had paused before he’d slowly wrapped his fingers around the neck of it and let his nails scrape against the dark glass.

The cork had popped almost too easily and here he is now, taffrail digging into his forearms as he takes a long drag from his cigarette and lets bitter smoke fill his lungs full to bursting. Blood orange coats the back of his tongue, cloyingly sweet, thick on the roof of his mouth— He’d made a layered trifle with cacao nibs and caramelised cream that had been slathered between slabs of boozy vanilla sponge, and the aftertaste clings to his teeth. Sanji peers down as what’s left of the sherry glimmers vaguely inside the bottle and fights the urge to chug the rest. 

He could, if he really wanted to. He hardly drinks but it certainly doesn’t mean he can’t. 

A soft scrape against wood catches his attention, barely perceptible. He fights to keep his spine from stiffening, fights to maintain his loose-limbed, easy demeanor; the liquid warmth in his veins helps some but not enough, and he’s halfway through another drag when near-silent footsteps stop just behind him. 

Zoro’s haori shifts in the wind, palm loosely wrapped around the end of Wado’s hilt where she’s strapped alone to his hip. “Was wondering where you went,” he says easily, looking out over the ocean. 

Sanji scoffs. It burns his throat more than the sherry did. “For someone built like that, you’re surprisingly quiet, marimo.”

The immediate urge to kick himself is something new. He rarely feels it— It appears often, don’t get him wrong, he just. Ignores it. It’s a little more difficult tonight. Built like that. The noise that escapes him is mirthless. What’s that even supposed to mean, huh? Alcohol’s always made him snappy and he does feel bad for once — But he’s tired, and the chores won’t do themselves. 

“Make it quick, would you?” he mutters when Zoro still hasn’t replied, low and quiet in the still evening air as he curves down to dig the heel of his palm into his temple. “My spice jars are still all over the counter, and I have to mop the floor before I wash the dishes—”

“It’s done.” 

Sanji blinks, before his eyes narrow and he turns his head to look at Zoro properly. “The dishes?”

“Everything.” The swordsman huffs when Sanji gives him a dubious look, gaze flicking over and away again as he rolls his eye. “Luffy asked me to clean up the galley. Said you needed a break.”

Well. The cook exhales, measured, and buries his face into the crook of his elbow. Taps his cig so that ash doesn’t fall into his hair where he’s holding it aloft above his head. “Tell him thanks, but I don’t.”

He clocks it out of his peripheral vision when Zoro smirks and waves a hand to gesture to his cigarette and his slouch and the glass bottle dangling against wood. “What’s this, then?”

I don’t know. Shop’s closed, please fuck off and come back tomorrow morning. 

The other words that sit at the tip of Sanji’s tongue are far more scathing. He feels them, bites them back viciously before he can burn anyone other than himself. “If there’s a single thing out of place in there I’m gonna—”

“Kick my ass, I know, I know.” Zoro chuckles under his breath. “Don’t you get tired of saying the same things over and over again?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t constantly choose to be selectively deaf, moss-for-brains.”

The swordsman huffs another soft laugh, and conversation peters out after that. Sanji feels an itch building at the base of his skull, flickering just under his skin; it’s making him restless. He taps the bottle against the rail just to fill the silence. Zoro reaches a hand out and Sanji gives it to him easily, unthinkingly, watching and pretending he isn’t as the swordsman thumbs over the faded paper label that’s peeling at the corner. 

Zoro’s hands are scarred, he notes. He knows this, of course, but he never gets tired of letting his gaze drift over tan skin and old scars, thin slivers of pearly tissue painted silver in the moonlight. A breeze ruffles his hair as Zoro finally drinks, and he’s distantly surprised to see that it’s a measured sip and not a swig like what it usually would have been. 

Fucking hell. Sanji’s inhale shudders when he pushes himself up and stands straight, now-free hand wrapping around lacquered wood as he finishes his cigarette and tosses the butt over the side. He needs to stop thinking. He’s paying too much attention. There’s a pressure building behind his forehead and Zoro is an overwhelming presence beside him, unavoidable, stoic and staunch as ever, perfect posture, perfect honour, a sentinel with a pure white sword like some sort of— of hero from a storybook. Perfect perfect perfect.

It’s all building like a scream behind his lips, a river at a bottleneck, and he clenches his jaw to keep it in. Grits his teeth until he hears them creak because what would happen if he opened his mouth? Nothing good, he’s sure. Nothing anyone needs.

Sanji nearly startles when the bottle taps against his elbow. “Talk to me.”

“Nothing to say,” he replies immediately, taking a careless gulp and holding in a cough. 

Zoro’s slow exhale feels like it shifts the wind itself. Their ship creaks gently. “You always have something to say, curls.”

“Look, you—” He cuts himself off, tempering his breath. “I’m tired, alright? So can you just get to the point?” Fuck, he needs another cigarette. 

Maybe that’s the problem. He knows he’s the problem, sure, but Sanji suspects that he’s been running for so long that he’s forgotten how to walk. It’s grown into him like weeds wound through his ribs, the way he sees poison in water that’s perfectly clean, the way peace makes him more anxious than chaos does. He needs to stop running. He doesn’t know how. 

Zoro pries the sherry from his fingers and it’s only then that he relaxes the death grip he’d unintentionally had, a shudder slipping over his shoulders. Zoro holds the bottle loosely between his scarred fingers and doesn’t drink.

The silence thickens. Static crackles within his bones.

Sanji doesn’t know why he starts talking. Doesn’t know why it feels like a dam breaking in his chest, but his mouth is open, and the words are emptying out. “I’m tired of looking over my shoulder for something that isn’t there. Luffy gave me something to run towards, for once, but—”

He doesn’t know how to say it’s not enough without sounding ungrateful, without being greedy. “Sometimes I think I could�� consume every one of the Blues, and still want more,” he allows. “Need more.” His fingers lace together, and Sanji dips his head with a wry smile even as he looks at the endless expanse of sky in front of them. “I’m afraid I’ll drink the world and still come up dry.”

There is a thirst in him. Something different than what had wracked him for a month on that barren rock. Hunger he can handle; he eats just enough to stave it off and goes about his day. This, though— Sanji can’t help the way it buzzes in the back of his head and keeps him wound up like a coil of electrical wire. He kneads dough and whisks egg whites just to have something to do with his hands. He defaults to his usual barbs when he’s feeling ungrounded so he can kid himself into thinking he possesses some semblance of normality. His shoulders ache as he stares out over the sea and wonders what it’s like to hold so much and still, still, be so achingly empty.

The winds change, carding cool fingers through his hair. 

“Drink from me,” Zoro says, and Sanji’s breath catches between his teeth.

His head snaps up to find Zoro already looking at him, face unreadable, elbows on the taffrail and bottle cupped in his hands. The swordsman looks serene, Sanji thinks. Gaze trained straight ahead, ever clear of his objectives as Wado gleams at his side, starlight in an ivory sheath. 

“Drink from me,” he repeats. The words are solemn as they always are in moments like these, the liminal space just after dusk but before true night, as his eyes shift over to Sanji and lock in place. “I won’t let you go thirsty again.” 

Sanji’s mouth dries. It’s hard not to feel pinned as Zoro looks at him; the weight of his gaze is almost physically tangible, like a familiar green coat settling over his shoulders. That’s the thing about Zoro— For all Sanji jokes about him having plant life in his skull, the swordsman has a penchant for dropping absolutely earth-shaking statements without even seeming to think about them at all. The cook swallows once, twice, tries to find his words as his lips part and loses them as soon as he takes his next breath.

He doesn’t know if he’ll ever stop feeling like a ticking time bomb. But as Zoro’s lashes flutter and he looks away, Sanji feels something in him settle. The relentless buzz that always seems to sit just beneath his skin soothes out into a quiet hum. 

Maybe part of it’s how Zoro’s scarred and still perfect. Untouchable. Sanji couldn’t hurt him even if he tried, even if he blows apart.

His fingers wrap, unthinking, around the neck of the bottle as it’s pushed back into his hand, the pressure of Zoro’s touch lingering until he’s sure that Sanji has a good grip. The swordsman’s boots brush softly across the planks as he turns to leave and he’s halfway to the stairs before Sanji speaks.

“Marimo.”

He knows Zoro turns without even looking. “Hm?”

“Did Luffy really ask you to clean up the galley?”

A pause, before Zoro starts walking again. “Get some sleep, cook. I’ll take the rest of your watch.”

The silence he leaves in his wake is honey-thick. First watch is Sanji’s shift, it always is— He cleans up the galley and stays awake until Zoro comes to take over. 

(The galley is clean. His watch is covered. His mind is quiet.

For once, he can’t find himself another reason to stay.)

 

The sherry holds no evidence of them ever having shared it. Sanji lifts the tinted glass and there’s no trace of Zoro, no proof that his mouth had ever been where Sanji’s is— None of the candied orange and rosemary from the duck they’d had for dinner, gamey and blood-sweet.

I won’t let you go thirsty again.

Sanji tastes it still, gentle in the back of his throat as he drains the bottle.

[reminiscingtonight]

The Reveal

Leah Williamson x Bronze!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Lucy finally returns in this last installment of the Setback prequels. I hope you guys have enjoyed the journey as much as I have writing it!

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Setbacks

[WOSO Masterlist]

Waking up to Leah will always be your favorite activity. You come to consciousness to tiny breaths puffed against your cheek, arms wrapped tight around your torso. Your legs are tangled together, the only evidence of what happened last night being the soreness in your body and the lack of clothes on both of you. 

You snuggle against Leah, letting yourself bask in her warmth before beginning the daunting task of untangling yourself. The defender’s clingier than most, never letting you leave the bed without a fight. Usually you would fold without much prompting and go cuddle with your favorite person, but today you have plans to make Leah breakfast in bed, and you’d be damned if you let her charm you out of it. 

“No! Don’t go,” Leah whines, coming to consciousness just to try to pull you back into bed with her.

“I’ll be right back, promise,” you whisper, secretly delighted that Leah still puts up this much of a fight even after a couple months into dating.

She mumbles something incoherent into her pillow but doesn’t let go of the death grip she has on your arm. 

“Leah,” you tsk out, happily giving her a kiss when she drags you down for another one. When she attempts to go from cute to sexy, however, you stop her right in her tracks. “Let me do something nice for you. Please?”

Leah gives you a blank look, hand pausing from where it’s attempting to trail down your body. When you give her your best puppy eyes, she sighs before letting you go. That’s the one trait the two of you share, never being able to say no to what the other wanted.

“Fine. Hurry back, I miss you already.” Leah’s pout almost gets you to break. Almost. 

Pressing a quick kiss against her lips, you quickly shrug on a hoodie and some underwear before slinking out into the kitchen.

Thankful for your pre-planning, you already have all the ingredients necessary to make breakfast. You pull them all out quickly, mentally ticking off your checklist. You’re ducking under your cabinet, trying to pull out a plate when you hear the distinct sound of keys in your locks.

You spin around just as your front door swings open. When you catch sight of brown hair in a familiar bun, you’re suddenly glad you threw on a hoodie to cover your state of undress before leaving your room.

“Luce! What are you doing here?” It’s hard to hide the panic in your voice, especially when you’re aware of the body in the next room. 

Lucy gives you a weird look, mistaking your panic for confusion. She drops a bag of muffins and some coffee onto your counter. “What, I can’t come visit my sister?”

“I just wasn’t expecting you,” you shrug, hoping to play off your disarray. 

Lucy eyes all the food on the counter, taking note of the two plates, two cups, double of everything really. “The amount of food you’re preparing says otherwise.”

You blink owlishly, silently cursing your sister’s perceptive eyes. You could never get anything past Lucy when you were younger. Her BS detector has only seemed to improve as the two of you grew older. 

“Did I tell you I was coming over? Damn, I was really hoping to surprise you. Give you an early birthday gift since I’m in town right now and all.”

“What? No. No! I’m surprised, very surprised. You did a great job, totally didn’t see it coming or anything. When did you even get into town? I thought you had a game yesterday.” You’re really hoping your rambling has confused Lucy enough to forget about all the extra food you’re preparing, but in the end, none of your distractions are enough to stop Leah from joining the party.

“Baby, what’s all the nois--” Leah stops abruptly when she takes in the sight in front of her.

Your first step is to grimace. You’ve been thinking about the best way to break the news of your new girlfriend to Lucy for weeks now. Although you haven’t hid your relationship anywhere close to as long as Lucy did, you know that your sister would still be hurt that you hadn’t told her right away.

Lucy stiffens next to you and you’re trying to come up with the proper explanation when you notice what Leah’s dressed in. Or more plainly, how little she’s dressed in. All Leah’s got on is one of your flannels and a pair of boxers.

You bite your lip, not able to push down the sudden surge of attraction that arises when you catch sight of her abs, the low swells of her-- Leah seems to gather her lack of clothes at the same time. She quickly closes shut the flannel, hiding the excess skin she had on display. Leah’s face is a rosy hue, no doubt embarrassed to be caught in this state by your sister.

Speaking of which…

“Why is there a barely dressed Leah Williamson in your flat?” Lucy grits out, turning her glare towards you.

“Surprise. We’re… dating?” The way your voice raises at the end makes your statement sound more like a question.

Lucy raises an eyebrow. “Are you asking or telling me?”

A tense silence settles over the three of you.

Leah fidgets uncomfortably under Lucy’s piercing eyes. “I’m just gonna,” she gestures over her shoulder towards your bedroom, but stops the second your sister’s voice rings out.

“No, stay. Please. I’d like to see how you guys try to explain this away.” Lucy crosses her arms, staring pointedly between the two of you. 

“There’s nothing to ‘explain away’,” you frown, not liking what Lucy’s implying. “Leah’s my girlfriend and I’m hers. We’re dating.”

It’s not like it’s a secret. While you and Leah are keeping things on the downlow, most of your club teammates have already figured out that you and Leah are together. The great thing about not playing on the same team as your sister meant not sharing every second of your life with one another. You’re sure Lucy’s happy for the slight reprieve, after basically coddling you to your interests your entire life. 

You make your way around the counter, picking up a discarded sweatshirt on the way and handing it to Leah. Your girlfriend murmurs a quiet thanks, hurrying to pull on the piece of clothing. You can feel Lucy’s gaze burning into your back as you block Leah from Lucy’s view. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was coming,” you whisper, noting the way Leah’s eyes keep darting nervously behind you. 

“When did this happen?” Lucy’s voice interrupts the two of you before Leah can respond to you. 

Rolling your eyes in annoyance, you turn around to face your sister again. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Her eyes narrow dangerously and you can feel Leah stiffen beside you. You’re used to Lucy being short with you, not that it happens often, but you understand why Leah’s more jumpy than usual. If you weren’t related to Lucy you would probably be quaking in your boots too.

But you are related to her. And you know exactly how to push Lucy’s buttons without the disastrous consequences that usually come when people challenge her.

You square your jaw, trying hard not to snap at Lucy. “You know Leah. You like Leah. There’s no need to give her the third degree.”

Lucy’s mouth pinches in displeasure, but you cut her off again before she can argue with you. 

“Leah makes me happy. Like really stupidly happy. Happier than I’ve been in a long time, okay? She treats me amazingly and dotes on me to the degree that it should be annoying but instead only makes me love her more. She’s wonderful in every way possible and most importantly, she loves me. So. Take all of that into account before you say whatever you’re going to say.”

Lucy blinks, not expecting such a long, thought out declaration. 

Leah also seems to be taken aback, mouth parted in surprise. It’s only when the silence drags on and no one says anything that you realize how raw your declaration was. The heat crawls up your neck and your fingers start nervously drumming on your thigh. 

Leah’s hand is quick to lace themselves with yours, stopping your nervous motion. She gives you a light squeeze, and you watch as Lucy’s eyes drop to your intertwined hands. 

It almost feels like a lifetime before Lucy says anything. When she does, you’re not sure if it’s supposed to make you feel better or not. 

“Okay. Well. You’re an adult so.” Lucy sighs, looking as if she’s about to get up and leave. 

From the corner of your eyes you can see a matching frown form on Leah’s face. 

“Just because I’m an adult doesn’t mean I don’t care about what you think.”

And it’s true. You’ve always idolized your sister, wanting to do everything you could to impress her. Her perceptions on everything you do is always important to you. And while you’re ready to defend Leah to the moon and back, Lucy’s approval would only make you breathe a little easier. 

Lucy silently stares at the two of you, trying to weigh whether or not you’re being honest. The corner of her mouth twitches before she turns her attention to Leah. “You really love (Y/N)?”

Leah nods, hand tightening around yours. “Yeah, I really do.”

Lucy looks like she’s considering it for a moment before she shrugs. “Okay, well that’s all I can really ask for.”

You want to let out the breath you’ve been holding in this entire time, but then Lucy actually does head for the door. 

“Wait, where are you going?”

Lucy pauses, already slipping on one of her shoes. “Uh, well it’s clear I’m crashing your guy’s breakfast so I’m just going to--”

“You should stay!” Leah’s outburst takes all of you by surprise. A blush forms on her face as she throws out a mumbled, “Please.”

Lucy looks between the two of you, from Leah’s embarrassed face to your pleading one. You know you have her when Lucy takes one look at your puppy eyes and then mutters something in Portuguese to herself.

“Alright then, if you guys insist.”

Your smile is blinding as Lucy makes her way back to the kitchen. Leah passes you another cup that you quickly fill with coffee before sliding it to your sister. Lucy mumbles a quick thanks before handing out the muffins she brought this morning. 

“Maybe we should invite Keira next time,” Lucy hums under her breath as she takes a bite of her muffin. “Make this a proper double date. I’m sure she would love it.”

Lucy stops chewing when she notices the way Leah has stiffened up again. She turns her questioning gaze towards you, but you turn your eyes upwards, suddenly finding your ceiling very interesting. 

Lucy chokes. 

“Oh my god, you guys haven’t told Keira yet?!”

[lovelytsunoda]

better be good to me // nyck de vries

summary: he's trying to hide that he's famous. she thinks she's finally met a normal man. one weekend trip is enough to knock every perception of him on it's side.

pairing: nyck de vries x reader

warnings: takes place before nyck got fired, nyck's kind of shifty about who he is, very brief mention of a piss k*nk, allusions to sexual activities, happy ending because I beleive in happy ever afters.

Oh, you better be good to me That's how it's gotta be now 'Cause I don't have no use You loosely call the truth You better be good to me

“there’s no way he can afford this if he is who he says he is, you do know that, right?”

“you used to work for red bull and you turned out fine.” she laughed at her roommate, pulling a few dresses out of her closet and throwing them into her suitcase.

“I worked on college campuses and made minimum wage.” eleanor rolled her eyes. “I could not afford to whisk my lover away for a weekend in austria.”

y/n rolled her eyes, flopping down on the double bed. “you worked for minimum wage hocking energy drinks on campus. nyck works in advertising.”

just under eight months ago, y/n y/l/n Met the man of her dreams. nyck de vries was sweet and funny and gentle and best of all, he was normal. he wasn’t a macho frat bro athlete or a film bro who’s favourite movie was ‘scarface’. he didn’t have a hidden piss kink. he was just nyck.

“I’m just saying that I don’t think he’s being totally honest about who he is. maybe he’s some dutch nepo baby burning daddys money.”

“and would that be so bad?” y/n laughed, tossing a floral skirt at her roommate in retaliation. “I finally meet a normal guy, someone who makes me feel incredible about myself, and you’re questioning it?”

eleanor sighed, looking over at her best friend. “I’m just looking out for you. I want you to be safe, even if you are choosing to go to a whole new country with a man you barely know.”

“we live in a small continent, ellie. it’s a six hour drive across the border, i can come home at any time.”

y/n never has any reason to doubt that nyck was exactly who he said he was. sure, he dressed a little too nicely for a twenty-seven year old and he drove a car so expensive that she could only dream of owning one like it, but she took one as a sign of maturity, and the other as a sign of a healthy work ethic.

“just be safe. and tell me all the gory details. i wanna know what the little man gets up to in bed.”

“eleanor!”

two days later, she was in the passenger seat of nycks toyota supra, speeding down a one-lane road on the way to spielberg, not a care in the world or another car in sight as she rolled the window all the way down, hair flying around her face as she sang along to the radio, a classic rock station that she knew nyck couldn’t stand but had put on just for her.

his hand rested comfortably in her bare thigh, rubbing reassuring circles as he looked over, a grin on his face as he watched her intently.

if only she knew what he was hiding. would they still be able to have moments like this, he wondered to himself, car hugging the curve of the road as he turned.

as he pulled up the hilton suites he’d booked for the weekend, a sprawling lodge located in the hills, behind a wrought iron gate only accessible with a confirmation code from your booking receipt, y/n felt her heart contract in her chest as she saw the hordes of people surrounding the gates.

“nyck, why are all these people here?”

“they must just be in town for the race.” nyck hummed, trying to steer through the crowd without running over any fans dressed in red bull regalia, thankful that he had sprung to buy the tinted windows.

“race?” she raised her eyes, pushing her sunglasses up on her head. “what race?”

“formula one at the red bull ring this weekend.” nyck said, finally steering the supra through the barely open iron gate, security officers pushing back the fans as he made his way up the winding driveway. “they gave me some paddock passes at work for the weekend. i remembered how you said you used to love racing in school and I thought you might want to see it up close and personal.”

y/n smiled, reaching to clutch his hand in hers. “babe, that was five years ago. i drove a stock car for my university’s shitty team around a homemade dirt track because we lived in a town that was so far away from everything that there was nothing else to do. it was a glorified demolition derby.”

“and you still haven’t shown me any videos of it.”

she laughed as nyck pulled into a parking space. “it never came up in conversation!”

“you can’t just tell me that you were once a stock car driver and not back it up with photographic evidence!”

they headed inside the hotel, walking hand in hand. they only brought in one suitcase each, the rest of the bags hidden in nycks trunk. all his racing gear was still in the car, a pit in his stomach as he though about confessing, about explaining who he truly was.

but in his defence, everything could have easily been found by googling his name.

he unlocked the suite door, ditching his suitcase and his shoes by the mirrored closet door. to nyck, this was just another hotel room paid for by management. but to y/n? she felt like she was sitting in the lap of luxury as she buried her bare feet in the carpet, walking towards the french balcony doors.

“nicky, this place is incredible!” she laughed, twirling around and trying not to hit the tv as she laughed, gesturing to the large tub in the corner of the room. “is that a jacuzzi?”

and nyck looked at her in pure adoration, laughing as he pulled her into his arms, kissing her softly. “only the best. you and me are going to have lots of fun in there tonight.”

“why wait?” she grinned roguishly, leaning over to turn the taps on the tub, brushing up against her lovers crotch. “we could have fun now.”

nyck was a goner before she had even taken her shirt off.

the next morning, he was running through all the ways that he could tell her who he was before he got to the track. by the time he was done his shower and drinking his kale smoothie, he had exactly no ideas.

by the time they got to the track, he had admitted defeat. he’d let the massive motif of his face in the side of the alphatauri building do all of the talking.

they walked through the paddock hand in hand, and as nyck stopped to wave at everyone, confusion started to well in her stomach.

why did everyone in the paddock know who her boyfriend was?

“um, babe, we just walked past the red bull building.” she pointed out, gesturing with her thumb towards the large navy building emblazoned with the face of sergio perez.

“just trust me, sweetheart. it will all make sense.” nyck reassured, kissing her knuckles as he turned towards the alphatauri building.

“oi, de vries!” someone shouted from a balcony “nice to see you, big guy!”

and that’s when she saw it, freezing in her path and dropping nycks hand. he didn’t notice as first, only turning back to look for her once he stood in the doorway. he found her standing at the edge of the patio, staring up at the flag fluttering in the breeze. it had her boyfriends face on it, and he was dressed a nomex racing suit, a much more expensive version of the tags she wore in college.

nyck sighed, taking a few steps forward as he tried to think of something to say. something, anything that could explain why his face was on the side of a building inside a formula one paddock.

“y/n, please, just let me explain.”

“eleanor was right.” she shook her head, not even looking at nyck before she skipped down the patio steps, running as far away from the alpahtauri building as she could.

how could nyck have lied to her for so long? did he take her for a fool? did he think she’d think any different of him if he knew the truth?

or, did. he not tell her because she didn’t mean anything to him?

nyck would find her sitting on a picnic bench in the paddock, reading her boyfriends wikipedia page. if he had lied about being a formula e championship winner, what else has nyck de vries lied to her about?

“hey, y/n…” nyck sighed, sliding his hands into the pockets of his chinos. “can we talk?”

“i don’t know, nyck. if that even is your real name.” she scoffed, dropping her phone into her bag. “you know how many people have stopped me and asked if I’m your girlfriend because you’ve told them so much about me? yet you’ve told me nothing about any of this.”

“well, im going to start by admitting that nyck isn’t even my real name.”

“i know.” she crossed her arms over her chest, growing at her lover. “I’ve read your wikipedia page, hendrik nicasius.”

nyck sighed, taking a seat next to her on the bench. “i guess I deserve that. can I at least explain?”

“you can do whatever you want. but please, give me one good reason to stay here with your lying ass instead of calling a rental car and driving back to eleanor, who will then say ‘I told you so’.”

“i didn’t tell you because when I was with you, I didn’t feel like i had the weight of the entire sport on my shoulders. you’ve read my wiki page, so you know how I got here. and you know how difficult it has been this season.” nyck started, half reaching for his hand before clenching his fingers into a fist and withdrawing the action. “you didn’t look at me and see nyck de vries, f1 rookie. you looked at me and saw hendrik, a normal guy who wants to enjoy a normal life.”

she nodded, anger evaporating from her bones when she thought about the situation from nycks perspective. yes, he had lied, but he did it out of the goodness of his heart. he had done it for the right reasons.

“i get it. you didn’t want me to see you any differently.”

“I just wanted you to see me for who i was.”

y/n frowned, reaching for nycks hand. “I’m still pissed at you for lying to me. but I understand. nicky, this is a fever dream. if you told the nineteen year old stock car driver i used to be that I’d be here with you right now, i wouldn’t have believed you.”

nyck nodded, leaning forward to place a kiss on her hairline. “I love you. and I hope this doesn’t change anything between us.”

“never. let’s go get you on track, car boy.”

TAGS

@magnummagnussen @scuderiamh @libraryofloveletters @lorarri @sidcrosbyspuck @diorleclerc @scuderiasundays @thatsdemko @oconso @silverstonesainz @clemswrld @love4lando @httpiastri

[thedragonsfate]

FHJY thoughts under the cut bc I gotta sort my brain and can't be succinct to save my life

I think there's something interesting in acknowledge like

of COURSE Kipperlily underestimated the bad kids.

She's hated these kids from day 1. I know a lot of people want to acknowledge that it's not unreasonable for Kipperlily and the rat grinders to think the school is run unfairly (and you're right! it's a fair conclusion)

-- but we also gotta consider that this is something that took root in her VERY EARLY. Before the bad kids got really very good. Two bad kids die on the first day of school, they spend a significant amount of their second semester freshman year just. In Prison.

Of course what follows I'm sure spurs that hatred, but she all but declared Riz to be her nemesis with Jawbone freshman year.

She's probably got some good ideas of how stuff should change, but also she saw this random Goblin boy with a briefcase in rogue class and decided she Hates Him, for a reason none of us can fathom when several of the other bad kids give off worst first impressiona

She's a teenager, a kid, with anger issues. As much as their can be important nuggets at the core of her motives, she's a teenager without emotional regulation skills. That combination is BUILT to breed resentment and feelings of entitlement. and it's built to actively ignore any evidence of a different perspective.

We talk about how she doesn't understand them, takes Kristen as entirely uncaring, doesn't expect the bad kids to do so well in the Last Stand

and OF COURSE she doesn't. some of this because she of course is not privy to all of the bad kids interactions that we are as an audience. but a lot of it is probably because she's a teenager who's decided she's being slighted and as a result is never going to take the bad kids actions on good faith. she's doubled down and while I have a feeling she's extremely perceptive, she's also in an emotional place that means she probably is ACTIVELY ignoring any evidence to the fact that maybe the bad kids are just ALSO working very hard, and that the school itself may also work against them sometimes.

Add to that a god corrupted into rage (negative in this case) and conquest, and a nefarious faculty member as a potentially directly manipulative adult in her life trying to make something big and destructive happen. Kipperlily strikes me as the kind of person who knows she's smart, and knows she's clever, but is so blinded by her emotion that she is probably missing some of whats clearly in front of her as far as all the Jace business goes. She certainly is about the bad kids.

Jawbone can only do so much to help her in her sessions if he's being actively worked against. Emotional regulation is hard to learn from zero AS AN ADULT and she's probably coming from the negatives if my impression is correct, and is doing so as a teenager.

I guess what I'm trying to say is like

In a vacuum? Sure augeforts comment about trying being stupid or whatever does seem like another slap in the face for Kipperlily, one that justifies some of her feelings.

But not about the bad kids. and not to the extent she has taken them.

And to take that at its word feels weird to me because. To anybody paying attention? The bad kids are and have been trying SO SO hard in class. Them having to take the last stand in the FIRST place is specifically because the school system is treating Kristen unfairly DESPITE her best, GOOD efforts. I'm certain the rat grinders are on some level aware of Gorgugs EXTREMELY uphill battle with schoolwork this season, even if it's just Maryann catching part of a convo with Porter or Ruben hearing about it from his uncle. I HIGHLY doubt that Oisin was oblivious to the way that Adaines academics were affected by her not having the money for the correct materials - she still was able to excel mostly but the effects of that roll being at disadvantage for so long are still THERE. Jawbone pinned down and mentioned to Riz his similarities to Kipperlily within maybe 2 seconds - there is 0% chance he hasn't brought something similar up in Kipperlilys sessions. She may not like it, she may not have the emotional intelligence to see it this way, but his efforts almost certainly mirror hers in a way that makes them equally hard workers, absolutely determined to keep themselves afloat despite it being an uphill battle. Something that she feels she deserves to be rewarded for, and to an extent implies that if just a few circumstances were different she would be able to see equal value in his work.

And sure you can say she may be able to see that and be angry that their work is rewarded and hers isn't, but we see time and time again that she and her party don't always put that same level of work in? Mary Ann at blood rush, absolutely uncaring but doing well specifically because she's got some magical enhancements. The suspicious circumstances of Kipperlily finding the Rogue teacher. Even just the natural advantage of Oisin having more than the funds he needs to excel in wizard class.

But even regardless of that, she seems to refuse to see that any scenario in which others are praised for the same thing she's done, while she is ignored etc, is the sole responsibility of the school here. the bad kids are not her enemies in that fight - augefort is. The bad kids are not going around being consistently given advantages from the school, they're earning the things they get and hitting their own academic road blocks, and they aren't acting better than other people in a way that goes beyond like. Teen stuff. And yet her sights are trained so unblinking on them.

I can see Fabian and Kristen's popularity and personalities coming off like it supports that they're being treated better or feel some superiority. And it's teen stuff to quietly hate those ppl at your school! it's p normal!

But it always brings me back to her SPECIFICALLY hating Riz. Bc Riz isn't a rich kid throwing parties that everyone loves. Hes not sniping out comebacks the way Kristen does, sometimes without even thinking. In a lot of ways he's the/one of the least abrasive of the group to an outsider. Which makes me SO much more inclined to call bullshit that this is truly, honestly rooted in an acknowledgement of any of the REAL problems that come up with their school system.

It's complex, but I feel like we can't exalt their perspective as a Truth of the world like it seems some folks do when these characters themselves do not play fairly. What is fair about the way they interfered with the exam. What is fair about what she did so easily to Buddy Dawn. What is fair about the murder of the couple that owned that farm. Depending on what happened - what is fair from them about Lucy's murder. Certainly what is fair about their hand in Yolandas.

This idea that things are unfair isn't untrue. But not in the ways she thinks, and shes moved so far beyond that notion at this point. Kipperlily probably DOES believe that she's uniquely a victim of this system, or at least that everyone but the bad kids is. But she's moved so far beyond that. Whatever divine rage magic is involved has ensured that, as well as probably some Adult manipulation, and severely underdeveloped emotional regulation skills. and for me that means like. obviously she is unjustified in her actions.

Augefort is absolutely unhinged. his school has never been run in a manner that rewards buckling down in the classroom and the classroom only. It's an adventuring school in truly the most chaotic and violence rewarding sense, and that information is given freely by Arthur augefort at maybe any turn

Saw something about the theoretical being just as important as the practical. and yes! absolutely! a very good point that I'm glad was brought up - going to the classes is important and I think this season has really emphasized the ways in which that's true at least in terms of Staying in School and Honing your Skills

I do think, in the same breath, that that STILL means that the practical is ALSO just as important as the theoretical. It CAN'T be one or the other, it HAS to be both.

and the bad kids are DOING both. regardless of what it may count for, the rat grinders xp leveling by continuing to do freshman level combat in order to excel more on paper ISN'T them really doing the practical part of what theyre learning in their higher level classes. And the bad kids do not get credit for their saving of the world REGARDLESS. Not on its own merit, and to get the credit they'd have to jump a hefty academic bar that sort of invalidates the point of practical efforts in the first place, not to mention works against students like Fig and Kristen.

The school is actively rewarding Kipperlily and her party's cheat code practical use of their skills, over the bad kids putting just as much if not more effort into their LITERALLY WORLD SAVING missions. whatever favoritism shes seeing, or that there may be occasionally, Kipperlily fundamentally takes the bad kids in bad faith. It's not ABOUT what is ACTUALLY unfair to her at this point.

from her perspective every accolade or accomplishment from them HAS to come from favoritism in order to fit how her view of whats actually unfair has been warped. for her it doesn't MATTER that they've been trying because they MUST not be trying as hard as she is. it doesn't matter that they visibly saved the world three times, one of which was livestreamed and included several party members dropping, successfully because surely it's a fluke, or they were given better opportunities than others for no reason, or they're being falsely worshipped for what MUST be a less dangerous quest than it seems (despite us seeing clearly on the first day of school that nobody is putting a pedestal up for their night yorb win)

What could have been a justified spark of frustration with a system has shifted into a vengeful sense of entitlement that to me? fully abandons the good of wanting to change a school system actively working against some (/all?) students.

idk maybe this all sounds like jibberish I just

Kipperlily in her current state is INCAPABLE of not underestimating the bad kids bc that would require some acknowledgement that they have worked and bled and died to reach the level they're at.

You cannot separate the girl who sneaks in to the Last Stand to sabotage another party's chances of passing, of staying at school, of continuing school, of one of them from potentially keeping their god alive, and of being brought back from what she assumes is certain death - from the slighted teenager running for class president to make things "more fair"

you cannot separate the girl who easily slits her own party clerics throat without second thought from the girl who thinks she's been slighted by an unjust system

What she means by unfair is inherently colored by her being that same person

Augefort can say whatever nonsense he wants, and it doesn't really justify her current frustrations at this point because her version of fair is fundamentally unfair now.

Shes a child who's become corrupted, just like Buddy. but unlike him - she's become genuinely nefarious and vengeful. Unlike buddy she is actively plotting. Harming others with full knowledge of it. We don't know how much of it comes from her on her own, or the rage baking underground, or Stardiamonds direct involvement - but I think this most recent episode should make it clear that like

Whatever truth there is to the school being run in a way that is unfair to its students, and regardless of what she says or thinks

Kipperlily Copperkettle is not operating from that grounded perspective. and I don't think she has been for a long time

[practickles]

Haruka Kiritani Tickle HCs

Obligatory Warning: This post is entirely focused on SFW fluffy tickles.

She is a full on pure switch.

Very very (canonically) casual about it, Painful Hope event my beloved.

She just sees it as silly fun and an easy way of getting people to smile.

Obviously not with strangers of course, but she doesn't need to be particularly close or best friends with anyone to enjoy tickling/being tickled. If everyone involved is comfortable, then she is too.

As a ler, she is an absolute menace to all lees everywhere

What makes her so bad is the fact that she doesn't necessarily go for worst spots per sae.

Instead, she will quickly and methodically figure out what teases get to her lee and then proceed to exploit those weaknesses for all they're worth.

Her "it's tickle time" line in Painful Hope kills me

She will sit there and try every. little. thing. until she can figure out what exactly is the most effective.

She's also the perceptive type, so don't even try to hide your reactions unless you want to be at her mercy for much much longer.

Of course she has the capacity to be gentle, and can and will do so at the slightest request/sign of discomfort, it's just not her go to.

Though gentle tickles with her are so. good.

Again, perceptive, so she can tell exactly how happy her lee is and how gentle they want.

Just because she knows though, doesn't mean she won't ask. One of her favorite teases is trying to get a lee to admit exactly what they want in heavy detail.

Most often, she tickles all of MMJ and An, and will sometimes also go for Saki, Ichika, Miku or Rin, but most of her friends have experienced it at least once.

Now just because she knows what she's doing doesn't mean she's always confident and mean.

And yeah, cocky ler Haruka can be devestating but I also raise you (vaguely inspired by something Atti said once) giddy ler Haruka

Haruka who just gets so happy to be able to let loose with her loved ones that she can't stop smiling and blushing watching them fall for pieces under her touch

She gets so much pure amazement from the fact that she made them smile like that. They're laughing because of her.

Sometimes, she'll think so much about it that she'll just stop tickling entirely.

Leaving her lee with either confusion and worry (in the cases of Minori, Shizuku, and Miku) or a perfect opportunity to tease her (An, Airi, and Rin)

She is surprisingly far easier to tease as a ler than a lee.

To her, it's far more embarrassing to be making someone else laugh than laughing herself.

If she's the one laughing, she can hide behind the fact that she can't control it. Her reactions are due to the fact that the ler wants to see them. But when she's doing the tickling, it's all on her. Like a big neom sign pointed right at her saying she loves tickling.

Though there's not much of that she can hide anymore.

BEAUTIFUL lee. Yk that idol sparkle thing she does? Yeah.

Her tickle laugh is nothing less than enchanting.

Her worst spot by a mile is her belly. Poor girl can't take it at all.

She learned at a young age not to wear crop tops or anything that remotely shows her stomach around An unless she wants to get wrecked to bits.

She very frequently wears crop tops around An

The only people that ever regularly try to get her back are Saki, Rin, An, and Airi.

Minori in particular feels a little shy and intimidated by going up to her idol and doing something as childish as tickling her despite the fact that not two days ago, said idol pinned her to the ground and tickled her to oblivion.

Miku, Luka, and especially Rin like to offer to tickle her when she's feeling down.

Ever since finding out how much she likes it, it has become Rin's go to for cheering up Haruka.

When she gets too in her own head, sometimes before she even notices it herself, she'll find herself in a spontaneous hug from Rin and a few moments later, doubled over in laughter.

She's about average in terms of general ticklishness and doesn't have a whole lot of weird spots but is pretty ticklish in most common places, (sides, feet, armpits, neck, etc.)

She is not at all embarrassed about being tickled, maybe gets a little pink over her more extreme reactions, but other than that is pretty much unshakable.

That does not keep her from hiding/controlling her laugh. She's not embarrassed about being tickled, but she is VERY embarrassed about her natural tickle laugh.

It takes a certain stubbornness and preserverance to get her to finally stop manufacturing her laughter. She is very well practiced in that regard.

Verbal teasing to the tune of "Aw, does that tickle?" or "What's so funny? Why are you laughing?" doesn't do a whole lot in terms of flustering her.

She's also very used to being called pretty/affirmations in her general appearance so for the most part, complements don't get her very bad.

Even if she gets insecure, she's still used to hearing it so it doesn't have much of an effect.

(Unless they are from a romantic interest OR happen to be when she's already feeling down about herself and then they're pretty decent at making butterflies)

The real big ones though are the holy grails of both physical teasing and baby talk.

Slowly pushing up her shirt and "accidentally" brushing against her stomach actually kills her.

And "Kitchi kitchi coo!" Makes her lose her mind.

She's just so so so soft and I adore her. Live laugh lee ler Haruka

[dykeomania]

some things about this college hockey blahblahblab!au that i just personally like because it's actually super nice to write it idk i love this little world i've created i've deadass been thinking about this in flickers since like, last year. don't come for me my perception of college is skewed i go to a liberal arts college anyways

cat is a visual arts major, and is the first person that ellie hooked up with once she got into college. she's an only child and lowkey she would've went to art school or just not go to school at all and start tattooing or something, but college was honestly cheaper than art school and her parents are chill about a lot of things but her dad is some finance dude that actually allows her mom to be an artist so if she didn't go to college she was Lowkey going to get kicked out of the house (that's a dramatization but she literally wouldn't hear the end of it). Anyways. they went to the same prep school and played on the same hockey team, but didn't start to get close until around freshman year of college. this is around the time where cat had started to settle into her own skin a little more and ellie was kind of refinding her footing due to. Events.

ellie broke up with riley at the end of her senior(~) year, because Events and she had a moment and cut her hair to shoulder length because someone on tiktok told her to. it happened over a phone call. riley sounded civil, but ellie could tell things changed from the moment that they were flying back home from vancouver (for a hockey tournament) and riley didn't sit next to her, or even look at her. they're cool, ellie guesses. riley also plays on the same team as ellie. (riley is an anthro/philosophy or gov/philosophy double major (but she probably takes a lot of psych classes) (that's awkward so does ellie) and she makes fun of ellie for saying she's from boston. riley is actually from boston. ellie is a j-o-b (just outside of boston).

ellie's entire friend group from prep school made a pact to commit to the same college and it's extremely messy and extremely rewarding

ellie's technically adopted. she, joel, tommy, and maria all live together in the same house. everyone works. it's consistent, and hectic, and fights over money and petty shit are pretty frequent. ellie had to fight for it, but they've invested a lot of time and money into ellie's athletic passions. joel is begrudged and honestly is a shitty father figure to ellie. their relationship is like only able to be somewhat tied together through hockey. and the rest i can't tell you

ellie deadass needs to go to therapy. and it Shows.

she also has issues with intimacy. and it Shows.

she's also aaaaa.... im not sure what her major is, honestly. she might like humanities + stem double major. i wanna say she majors / minors in physics and astronomy because she thinks its cool but at the same time she probably like doesn't really fuck with the math at all (and it's not like she can't do it, she's one of those assholes that just writes shit down and somehow is able to reason her way to the right answer, but like shes usually hungover / sleep deprived but she's disciplined so she just half-asses shit instead of not doing it at all). but i feel like she definitely takes a lot of anthro or history courses and maybe that could be, like. her minor. double major. something. Or Honestly, Honestly. Honestly. maybe psych. she does take a lot of psych classes regardless though but then probably stops showing up for them when they hit too close to home Lol

ellie lowkey started her beef with abby because she was just one of those people who she just decided she hated (for a variety of reasons and all of the reasons were projections of her own personal problems. abby's life is ssoooo perfect cause her dads a dooooctor and her moms a zoooologist and they live in a gaaateeddd commuuuniityyyyy and she has expensive skaaaatteeessss and the best stiiiiiickkk and gets eveything she waaaants and ellie can't talk to her dad anymore and her mom is dead and she grew up where theres like heroin needles scattered on the ground and wore the same pair of shoes throughout her entire high school career because she didn't feel comfortable asking for anything else).....

it just solidified it when abby did one petty thing some day on like a wednesday or made some snide comment during a practice, so then ellie's friend group started talking shit about abby's friend group, and so abby's friend group started talking shit about ellie's friend group. their respective like groups of people kinda sorta let it go after a while .... but the two in the center are Still standing. ellie Fucking Hates abby. and Abby fucking Hates Ellie. for deadass no reason

anyways i'll tell you about abby another time im still figuring out what to do w her but there's. gesticulates w my apple pencil. History. there. (not Fucking history but.)

and you're there too, i guess (we'll get to you later)

and the rest i'll withhold because it's probably not much but. shrugs. just some basic things that are playing into this story that i like. my Silly Little World. my Silly Little Messy Hockey Women.

[mischas]

pod thoughts/quotes

I swear this took me least two hours to actually watch fully from start/stopping for quotes and going back for context and then I had to pause for a few minutes while I made dinner. But that was incredibly cathartic, I must say. I feel like I’ll be ready to do a deeper dive on the podcast in the coming days but for now here are my thoughts as I watched.

07:30, re: “Whoever you want me to be” it’s interesting that Mischa says they shot her lines so many different ways to establish tone. As if Marissa really is so into her role as lead deb/social chair/etc when Sandy mentions the fashion show. Rereading the pilot script, I can see where this was changed in the direction once it came to shooting it.

16:42, “The thing about the sports or something” made me LAUGH re: hiatus because of baseball in 2003

@ ferris wheel scene, do they know this show is avail in hd? 🥴👀

24:15, re: 2x01 lawn chair scene “I was so frustrated with some of the character writing and not knowing how to play it at that point” omg “Didn’t know what to do with some of the writing” 

What kind of vapid ppl are listening to this drivel if this scene was their #1

31:57, Mischa didn’t know there was an SNL skit based off Marissa shooting Trey. IF ONLY I WERE SO LUCKY

33:28, I swear to christ 😭 Mischa has no recollection of Marissa’s various traumas (re: almost r*pe). And I don’t blame her for this, I think she had to keep this show out of sight out of mind for so so long for her own sake, but I hope being reminded of these things will help her perception of Marissa as more than a strung out angsty teen with poor decision making. She seemed so shook being reminded by Melinda that Marissa was sexually assaulted.

35:40, MB seems to be saying something else behind her expression about shooting on the Mount St. Mary’s campus for 3x24. What do we think she meant by this? Just that she was uncomfortable being paraded around in that skimpy school uniform? Or something else? This location doubled for Harbor, right? She also acknowledged feeling uncomfortable in the explicit Volchok scenes.

37:54, 3x25 model home pool scene, “Oh my god her tattoo, I can’t” I really thought this was Mischa’s tattoo they wrote into the script! I’m truly surprised they even cared about continuity at this point.

38:33, same pool scene “It’s nice when you have days where you can just, like, do stuff that’s not quite so heavy” and Mischa/Marissa deserved this so much more!!!!

44:25, they’re watching the d**th scene, and I have always thought Mischa’s arms look so weird just dropped back like that. It’s probably more realistic than if they were tucked in, but it’s always taken me out of the scene

I haven’t seen this scene in years. literally

I’m tearing up but only a little. It’s too melodramatic for me this time. I know what I’m supposed to feel but it seems so detached from reality that I can easily act like Marissa survives this. There’s almost 40 min left of this pod ep what are they gonna talk about

ok going back real quick i’m supposed to believe this happened to Ryan RIGHT IN HIS LAP AND HE’S CAREFREE AND DATES SOMEONE ELSE NOT EVEN A FEW MONTHS LATER? LMFAO PLS THIS BOY WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO EVEN SPEAK FOR LIKE A YEAR IF THIS RLY HAPPENED

“This is the culmination of their whole love story, it is” okay wait 🥺

“I don’t wanna see the part where he gets all emotional, I’m done now” real

49:31, Melinda: “Truth be told, there was a huuuuuge part of the audience that tuned in just for Marissa and the ratings did go down in season 4 because you weren’t there. I’m just putting that out there.” *elmo fire gif* 🫡 

55:40, 1x10 Missoni dress “They got the dress and I was obsessed, like ‘she has to wear this dress.’ It’s beautiful, like my dream dress at the time. That’s the way I felt about it. It’s all sparkly in person and just very Missoni. You know, after the fact, I became quite good friends with the family but this was like my first introduction to a Missoni piece and I was like ‘Oh my god I’m obsessed with this dress’ to the point where I begged them. This was like one of the first things they let me wear off set and it was my first date dress with, like, one of my ex-boyfriends. I was so excited I got to wear it out. It was special. So that dress has a special place in my heart, that’s for sure.”

1:01:40, fan question, “What do you think is the biggest misconception about Marissa? What’s the one thing that you just wish people would understand about her?”

“That she’s a caring– a very sensitive person. That’s the main thing about her, she’s just this sensitive and– that she wants to care for people and help them. she has a big heart like that.” 🥹

1:05:36 “Originally, they wanted her to be more like Legally Blonde.” 

Melinda, “Like bubbly?”

Mischa’s fucking face here lmao

1:06:00, to find Marissa’s character “They had me watch Kate Hudson in Almost Famous again and again, certain scenes.” Why is this actually making sense to me ljkhgf

1:07:04, Marissa at the party post-fashion show in the pilot was filmed many different ways drunk, “I remember I was asked to play that every way to Sunday. ‘Like now she should be fall down drunk, like she’s stumbling through the party’ and then there were takes where I was, like, completely composed. A little bit slurring my words. That was all find it as you go.”

1:08:10, “A lot of opposing types of direction” re: doug, mcg, josh

1:09:36, “Remember when they started shooting two episodes at a time and they would just hand me pages–I don’t know if you guys had as much of this– But they would be like ‘this is gonna be probably in the next episode and since we’re on this set we’re gonna give this scene a go so here’s a couple pages from what’s probably gonna happen’ and I’d be like ‘this is wild! what have you written for the next episode?’ You'd read it and be like ‘holy shit where are we going with this?’ so I remember a lot of that.” She mentioned this in the E! interview but hearing it again is super interesting.

1:10:27, fan question, “I wanted to ask you if there are any storylines you would’ve wanted to see more of for Marissa or if there’s anything you would’ve liked to have seen of Marissa explored.”

“Yeah, I feel like definitely the Alex storyline is what jumps to mind. I feel like that could’ve been explored more. Also there’s not a lot of her and her sister, really. You know? That could’ve been explored more.”

1:11:39, mentioning that the Alex storyline really was ‘her thing’ ie. something I’ve said in the past. The Alex storyline was the only one that was ever Marissa’s alone.

1:12:26, fan submission “Marissa was my favorite character. One of my favorite moments of her was midway through season 2 when Marissa shows up to the Cohen house with bagels and they take her in and comfort her.” real!!!! theeee sweetest scene of all time

1:17:20, Tacking on that fan question at the end about Marissa and mental health. Mischa has such an eloquent answer and to answer my own question from above I feel like this may change the discourse with which MB speaks about the character. At least I hope so. Love that caller for sending it in and honestly the pod for including it. 

“Obviously she suffers from depression and anxiety and all sorts of things. That’s what I was saying about the overdose scene. I do not remember what we think she’s on or what we really think her biggest problem is. Ultimately it’s rooted in mental wellness, isn’t it? I mean, so much of anything is. Any kind of addiction, it’s not really about just one thing or vice that she has. It’s about being at that age and being so overwhelmed about the world around you and not really feeling like she had the tools to cope.”

MC: “The episode is called ‘The Escape’. So she’s escaping that pain that she’s living through that the parents are oblivious to.”

MB: “Right. There’s nobody. There’s never, like, a counselor there or a teacher there. It does feel like she’s always grasping in different directions. It’s not properly defined and I think, maybe in today’s terms, we would handle that differently. But I definitely think that she’s going through all of it and searching for herself.”

Whew, you guys. I need to decompress. 

[bhaalsdeepbat]

it happened i started writing "oops here's a baby" au while i outline what i wanna do with the scenes i have planned in my main retelling but with more durge emphasis thing. some ramblings

Vera is gonna have big bat ears as a child that she has to grow into. like her ears will be HUGE everyone will be like this poor fucking kid....then she grows into a killer queen

i'm obsessed with the idea of vera being able to charm people kinda young and using that to get people to spoil her lmao she'll lean hard into vampire tropes when younger to fit in, then chill out about it. Like it's kinda a phase, but not all of it lmao she just exaggerating some things

I had initially thought about giving her long hair, but I like the idea of a longer A-Line. Still short, but long enough she (leon until she's old enough to do her own hair) can braid the front sections and pin everything back when she needs to be Fancy. She's gonna murder some people before adulthood cus that bloodlust be strong with her double whammy. For her it's the scent and hunger. Like once they get her hunger under control she's fine.

I decided she'll have a familiar, but i gotta think more how i wanna do that bc considering it being part of her shadow magic and it being the hound of ill omen but working fanfic magic to make it a permanent summon that has a battle form.

also i'm thinking dhampir births = traumatic and if durge wasn't....durge they would have died. specifically i keep thinking of their claws ripping shit on the way out which is kind of a lot, but gives me the horrified at birthing feels so i'm into it.

Wren will struggle with how intense and vivid their thoughts get. They'll have the closest to what the Urges felt like, but not quite as strongly bc playing into "not strong enough blood connection to bhaal" type thing.

wren is going to be the quiet one of the two. they're a perceptive little fuck and tend to people watch. they're a little feral, but it's different from the feral they get when the urges be urging. there's no violence to their normal feral behaviors. they just sometimes act like a half-raised animal and spend a lot of time wildshaped as a wolf.

wren's best friends will be a pack of wild dogs and some of the stray cats. they'll get in trouble for sneaking some down to jaheira's secret place bc they'd find their way in pretty fucking quick and spend a lot of time with the animals down there. wren is jaheira's little freespirit. No locks can keep wren in or out. wren goes where wren wants.

like these two children will be opposites and some of it will be nature but also some of it nurture bc they're being raised in entirely different environments.

Wren will have SO much respect for life and death and treat corpses with reverence, but then Vera just. sometimes forgets that she's supposed to be treating corpses differently from the living, but all bodies have the potential to be alive or dead at any given moment and death just isn't permanent. plus just all the quirks the vampire spawn would have from their new status as the living dead.

[searsage]

Your assignment was to initiate a snowball fight in the square, not attempt first degree murder…"

The warmind pointed out cooly as Felwinter examined the ingloriously hard chunk of snow coverd ice, with intent optics.

"What? You think I'd throw this at someone? I've no interest in harming civilians…how resilient are titans you say?" The exo inquired darkly as he stared at the Vzdokhnut's store front.

"Felwinter, if you cannot initiate your assigned objective, I will not hesitate to-"

"Im on it..I'm just working out how to do this…" Felwinter grit out as the Exo awkwarldy grabbed a fistful of snow, the cold white material was wet and squishy, it weighed noticably more then earth's snow, yet much more easily merged together…

For a long moment he stared at the snow melting slowly in his hands, and as he studied the pristine frail microscopic crystals for some incredulously inane reason, Felwinter was griped by the sudden urge to taste the fluffy white substance, however Rasputin put a stop to the Exo's reckless train of thought as if he was still linked to the Felwinter's mind..

"Eroupa is comprised of 84% ice, and 16% organic matter, of that 84% at least 22% of that is comprised of nonindigenous bacterial pathogens, while 19% of the remaining 62% is contaminated by naturally occuring radiation…I am confident your inorganic organs may no doubt flush the poisoning easily from your system, however, there could be possible harm inflected on your lesser organs before any potentially harmful contaminants are efficiently purged, It would be unfortunate to have to replace them Siddhartha."

While the snow did look tantalizingly pure, the Exo dropped the scandalous melting snowball, he wouldn't test Resputin's readiness to replace his organics with superior upgrades, almost constantly he wondered why they colonize such a hell hole, the sheer idiocy was beyond Felwinter..

"Spring won't like this, she loves the damn snow, now all we have is this crap.." The Exo sneered as he envisioned Spring's dismay at not being able to play in the snow.

"I have scheduled an appointment, to have the two of you inoculated, however it has been post poned, until further notice you are not to let her engage with the snow of Europa"

"You dont have to tell me that, ill keep her safe."

"I dont doubt you would, now if you would, pick up the snow ball and hurl it at the closest target, think of it as…target practice, these are intruders and they are on my lawn, erradicate them" the warmimd commands way too comfortable with the malice that radiates from his reverse russian words.

Felwinter's optics nerrowed in on a group of innocent bystanders, two babbling warlocks refilling the festive sidewalk urns with solar energy as they bicker back and fourth with a hunter, who was warming their hands beside them.

Their public generosity did little to spare them, they were figuratively on his lawn and that wouldn't do…not at all.

"Rodger.." The Exo breathed as he grabbed a fist full of snow to form a renewed snowball, he wielded it as if it were a void garnade, and for a while his victims were none the wiser, at least not until the hunter perceptive as ever, took note of his approach and visably stiffened, not that it mattered because by the time his hand raised, they did a very hunter thing, dodging out of the way and to safety, leaving behind the two confused warlocks as oblivious sitting ducks.

Felwinter's artificial heart would have bled for them and the betrayal they faced, he would have considered sparing them if only he gave a damn.

Unfortunately they were not spring, Elsie or Osiris.

So no, he didn't give a single damn about hurling the snowy garnade into the face of one of his victims, they screeched on their way down as if shot by a double barrel shot gun…with really good range…their anguish..it felt liberating…

the other warlock had fallen over in the alarm, staring in horror at their obliterated fallen comrade, the terror in there eyes did not move the Exo as he slowly advanced on them, they scrabbled back begging for mercy but for all it was worth, it was pointless after he grabbed another handful.

But just as he was about to land the killing blow on his prey, Felwinter felt a impact followed closely by a shock of cold against his neck, his scarlet eyes slid to the side to fix the sly coward of a hunter with a leer that would scare the gun ammo off a cabal.

[benbamboozled]

Okay so I saw your John-Vriska-Karkat Homestuck post and as a Terezi-Vriska-Karkat I want to know how you might triangulate HS character preference against interest in Jason Todd as a character (or the Batfamily more generally).

*cracks knuckles*

OKAY this one is going to be pretty me-specific, and my interpretations of the characters, and what draws me to them and the crossovers I see between my interest in them and my interest in Jason Todd.

(Okay before we get into this let’s acknowledge John Egbert and his Black Hair and Blue Eyes and Jason Todd and his Black Hair and Blue Eyes and Karkat is the Red Themed Angry One and Jason Todd is the Red Themed Angry One and Vriska is frequently a mean bully who kills people and Jason Todd has mean bully tendencies and also kills people.)

So, first of all…

HEART. (As in “the capacity to care about people,” not in the Aspect sense.)

JOHN, KARKAT, and VRISKA have A LOT of it. John is pretty obvious—he comes across as kind of blithe and careless, but we see through his conversations and interactions (such as his bday presents for his friends) that he actually has very good perceptions when it comes to his friends and their personalities. He CARES about them. A lot!

KARKAT had so much heart that, as Vriska acknowledged, it possibly under-powered their session, since they probably could have gotten more god tier players if they fought each other more often…but Karkat was such a good FRIENDLEADER that he was able to keep them together without that.

And VRISKA…oh Vriska. SO MUCH of Vriska’s character is boiled down to “she’s got hurt feelings (and does a violence about it).” In fact, (VRISKA)’s arc is based almost entirely around her reconciling with the fact that she DOES care. She can’t be the Cool Unfeeling type of person she’s always thought that she should be.

And I think for me, I see HEART as one of those things that Jason Todd is kind of afflicted with. Everything would be SO MUCH EASIER for him if he could just NOT CARE.

But he does. And he just has to live with that.

OKAY MOVING ON TO—

A WELL-DEVELOPED SENSE OF INSIGHT WRT OTHERS. (That tends to be ignored by fandom, not that I’m salty or anything.)

This one mainly pertains to JOHN and KARKAT.

JOHN is very adept at seeing beyond the façades that his friends and comrades construct for themselves, and is very good at pinpointing what they’re talking around to get to the heart of the matter.

Meanwhile, KARKAT is actually very insightful when it comes to (others’) interpersonal relationships. His whole thing about romance tends to have him be used as The Expositor for relationships, but he actually DOES offer valuable observations not just on what a healthy relationship would require but ALSO what the person he’s talking to would need to provide for said relationship.

As for how this applies to Jason Todd, EVERYBODY FORGETS HOW FUCKING INSIGHTFUL HE IS! (Not that I’m salty or anything.)

The dude consistently makes comments and entire schemes based on what he knows and observes about others.

Pre-Flashpoint especially, Jason would deconstruct a character’s entire being…and then of course use it for eeeeeeeevil.

Speaking of eeeeeeeevil…

A DRIVING NEED TO PROVE THEMSELVES EVEN TO THEIR OWN DETRIMENT.

Oh hello VRISKA. I mean…just look at her. Look at her choices.

Always trying to show that she is BETTER. No, not just better…BEST. A kind of desperate mobius double reacharound of being forced to do terrible things to survive and needing to prove herself so that the terrible things she’s done had a purpose it wasn’t all for nothing.

I mean…it should be pretty obvious how this ties into Jason Todd. The dude is CONSTANTLY desperately searching for a purpose in life. He is pretty much always looking to prove that he meant something to someone.

Which brings us to…

A PERVADING SENSE OF FAILURE.

I mean, a pretty significant chunk of Homestuck in general is about failing. Being Doomed By The Narrative.

I mean, you got your literal Doomed Timelines, you got your Dream Bubbles and ghosts, literally the entire story is based on the first failed troll session…

Now, this section mostly pertains to KARKAT and (VRISKA).

KARKAT was, after all, the one that ran the cursed ~ATH program, he called himself a cancer (I mean obviously it’s a pun but also indicative of the fact that he takes his failure as a leader and the failure of his session VERY personally), and his entire Dancestor’s story is focused on, you know…FAILING. HARD.

And as for (VRISKA)…damn. Pretty much everything she does ends up blowing up in her face. Sometimes LITERALLY. And so much of it (IMO, obvs) circles back to her trying to be something she’s NOT and CANNOT be.

She wants to be the cool, collected, calculating Marquise Mindfang, she wants to be the troll she thinks she should be, but she just…can’t.

And like, with Jason Todd…he is obviously Doomed By The Narrative. Both in the sense that, you know…he DIED and was The Dead Robin for 17 freakin years…

As well as the fact that he can NEVER get satisfaction for his death. The Joker’s always going to be around and kicking, and I’m sure Jason will be written as giving up on that (AGAIN) because it’s a hopeless storyline since OBVIOUSLY DC can’t actually really-for-reals kill the Joker…he’s too popular!

Not to mention the fact that he’s kind of become the one in opposition to Batman, and as I’ve complained about before, Batman is ALWAYS right. Which means, by necessity, Jason loses. He HAS to lose. The only way he can not lose is if he’s written as abandoning the concept of opposition entirely which is really a sort of grand narrative failure in and of itself.

SO, there you have it! My grand unifying theory of What Ties My Love Of My Three Fave Homestuck Characters In With My Love Of Jason Todd.

Nice and succinct!

[jojomaxine]

Married DioPuci AU writing

Set after the DioPucci Issue, in the modern AU. Donatello and pucci focused. CLICK HERE TO READ THAT

tw: not exactly cheating but similar content, follow with care! Donatello is a fucking leech lol. also ignore my english mistakes please. this isnt double checked.

Donatello had no idea Pucci was coming until he heard the phone ringing and couldn't posibly picture who the fuck could be pressing the button for his old shitty apartment. He almost never brought people here, and he hadn't invitedanyone over today.

—Who-

—It's me.

What? No goddamn way.

—The fuck are you doing here?

—So charming —replied Pucci sarcastically with a slightly tired voice, noticeable even through the static— Not now. Could you first let me in?

Donatello looked back at his small living room and winced at the mess. No way he was going to let Pucci see that and risk getting the lecture of his life.

—... just wait there for a second.

He didn't leave Pucci enough time to complain before he shut the phone down. It must have been about six minutes until Donatello deemed his floor decent enough to let the older man come in. He pressed the button that opened the access to the building's entry doors and waited impatiently for the man to reach his floor. Specifically, 6th floor, apartment C.

Before he noticed his palms were already getting sweaty from nerves. What was Pucci doing here? All alone? He was always an annoying meddling bitch, but he had never gone as far as to come to his place like this. He couldn't restrain his imagination from going to impossible places. A little bit of incredulous hope surfaced as well as that damn feeling that made his stomach churn with excitement.

All high expectations died down after he heard the knock and Verdena, that weird ass girl, was in Pucci's arms when he opened the door. He tried not to be obvious, but he knew the fucker was quite perceptive. He could probably sense his disappointment.

—Uh. "Come in" I guess...

Not a word, not a thank you as he entered the house, looked around and made THAT damn face. That one where his eyes narrowed slightly like he knew something, and his lips tightened like he was biting back his complaints.

—I dare you say shit. You're the one that came uninvited out of fucking nowhere. I didn't have time to clean.

—I didn't say anything —Pucci sighed, looking like he was tired, probably because of carrying the little girl who was asleep— And don't talk like that in front of her.

Donatello scoffed but didn't say anything. It's not like she heard him. He closed the door and crossed his arms.

—Then? Why are you here?

Silence. Pucci wasn't even looking at him. Fine. He was about to talk when…

—It's raining outside, if you haven't noticed. And it's hard getting a cab right now. Your apartment was close —just as he said that, Donatello did notice Pucci's clothes were a bit damp— Can I sit here?

—Uh, yeah. Go ahead.

Pucci lowered himself onto the couch with Verdena still on his lap. He looked relieved the moment the weight of the little girl on his body was reduced thanks to the support of the furniture. Donatello stood uncomfortable, not quite sure what to do until he decided to sit besides Pucci, far enough for their bodies not to touch but close enough to be able to close that distance smoothly if he wanted. Not like it was on purpose.

—So... rain, huh.

Pucci's gaze seemed to be somewhere far away. Dontello wondered what he was thinking about.

—Yes.

There was definitely something wrong, but it seemed like the older one didn't want to bring it up.

—Won't you tell Dio you're over here? He could pick you up. Isn't it his day off?

There it was. That little flash of pain on Pucci's look. Something happened between them. He contained the shudders, because... was he then the first one Pucci thought of seeing after trouble with Dio surfaced? They've been close for a while, in a weird way. They didn't quite get along, but they somehow had... something. Some sort of need to keep in touch. The need to go ruin each other's days and, from time to time, have a deep conversation. That rain excuse sounded like bullshit. He lived the heck away from Pucci's house or job. Why would he get caught up in the rain and traffic so close to here?

—No, I won't —the man answered plainly, all remains of that pained look lost quickly.

—Hmm —he got a bit closer, tentatively resting his arm on the back of the couch— and why is that?

—I don't... want to see him right now —his eyes looked down, a little furrow on his lips. He hugged Verdena closer to his chest.

Bingo.

Could he coax him to vent a little? He had no idea why Pucci was with someone like Dio. His old man was a damn pain. Lord, had he been waiting for the moment Pucci would notice it too.

—So did he fuck it up already? Not surprised. I'm more amazed it took him this long.

The other looked irritated now, burying his hand on his hair.

No answer.

—Well, it's not that I mind. You could come here more often, if you wanted... —he offered with a low voice, slowly setting his hand on Pucci's shoulder.

That actually made Pucci look at him. It was that unreadable, plain look, the one that made him feel like he was being analyzed without knowing. After less than a few seconds, the older averted his gaze again, some stiffness leaving his shoulders with the motion, looking less annoyed.

—Actually. Can I stay here tonight?

The blond looked astonished.

—Sure, but I don't have more than one bed-

—Can't you sleep on the couch? —Pucci raised an eyebrow, unamused.

Pretentious motherfucker.

—I guess —he muttered, equally as distated.

Pucci sighed again, more pressure seeming to leave his body again. He threw himself back into the couch and rested the back of his head on it, inclined a bit to the blond's side, and closed his eyes. He could feel his breath reach Donatello's hand on his shoulder.

—Thank you... —Pucci whispered softly. So softly and so honestly that Donatello's insides rolled with that feeling again.

—It's... it's nothing... —he removed his hand, leaving it hanging close for a few seconds before hesitatingly bringing it close to the other's face, close enough that he was about to touch his cheeks-

—Right. It's not like you have anything of value to do anyway —scoffed the older, and Donatello snapped his hand back.

—You still mad about that? Piece of shit-

—Language —Pucci opened his eyes and looked at him disapprovingly— and yes. It took me a long time to convince the store's owner to give you a chance. It wasn't easy getting you that job. And it was a nice store. Now I can't buy clothes there anymore.

Donatello laughed, inclining his body to bring himself closer without noticing, his face hanging above Pucci's.

—Is that what you're worried about? You're mad cause you can't buy those expensive clothes anymore?

—You know it's not about that —Pucci made grimace.

—...I know. I wasn't trying to be ungrateful —it was Donatello's turn to sigh—but it's not my fault everyone around you is just as much of a pretentious fuck as you are. I was a sand’s grain length away from beating the shit of the manager. You should be thankful I didn't go that far —he claimed, as if it wasn't a worrisome thing to say.

The look Pucci gave him in return was deep. Perhaps way too deep.

—You remind me so much of your father sometimes. Always so eager to get violent —Ah, there he goes. The fucking comparisons again— but you're not like him. The world's not easy, Donatello. That pride, if not moderated, will destroy you. You need to learn to keep it at bay. Show it only when you must. Your father learned that at a very young age.

—So dramatic. It's always the end of the world with you, isn't it? —he rolled his eyes— calm down for a little. I will be okay —he turned a bit more serious, looking at Pucci more softly— You don't have to worry about me. I've been alone all my life, Pucci. I can figure things on my own —the other didn't look convinced, but there was that light in his eyes that made it look like he was considering it— and if you keep being so uptight you'll get more wrinkles.

—What do you mean "more", brat? —Pucci replied indignantly.

—There you go. You said a bad word in front of the girl —Donatello grinned, his challenging expression as wild and clear as always.

Pucci kept quiet for a while, and then laughed, because he had no comeback for that. And Donatello felt like he did a good thing today.

It was quite cliché, honestly. What drove him to want to say the next. That typical "it doesn't benefit me, but I don't want to see that one special person hurt" kind of cliché, cheesy feeling.

—Hey... about Dio. You're like, the only human being he seems to tolerate. I don't know what he did to you, but he probably didn't mean it. Not to you, anyways. —he muttered, unable to watch him as he let the words out. He did really believe that. Sadly.

The quiet was too sudden and it stayed for way too long, almost making him regret having interrupted that stupid beautiful laugh that he hated to love. Expectation drove Donatello to look back and find Pucci actually contemplating those words, his gaze once again a bit lost somewhere far from here. He looked back, finally.

—I don't want to forgive him yet, but you're right. You can really be nice sometimes, Donatello.

Fuck. He had that solemn look. That calm look now. So fucking tempting.

He’d try again.

He held his hand until his fingers brushed the other's cheek. Pucci froze in his place and looked a bit conflicted, but not entirely against it, he thought.

—It's nothing that you haven't done for me too —he got closer. Closer and closer, until his breaths were mixed, and Pucci's dark, beautiful eyes shined bigger with surprise.

His fingers intertwined with his short, curly nape hair as his mouths finally closed on each other.

It was soft, no more than a peck at first. And even when Donatello deepened it, closing his eyes, it was nothing nasty either. Pucci wasn't quite reciprocating, per se, but there was that palm now over Donatello's chest, closing on his shirt as his breath cut short with a gasp-

And when he decided to look, cause damn he wanted to see the way Pucci couldn't pretend he didn't want it too, he instantly noticed instead someone's else's eyes. Those big, knowing red eyes. Looking directly at them from below their heads.

Pucci's gaze followed Donatello's direction and there was a small flash of panic there when he saw what was going on.

Fuck.

—Don't freak out —the older quickly whispered into his lips moments before slowly breaking away.

Right. If he overreacted the kid would think something that shouldn't happen was in fact happening. Which was actually indeed happening.

—Verdena, dear. You woke up —Pucci spoke softly. Donatello just let him do the job, barely standing to look or hear. Damn world, please swallow him down.

Verdena nodded, looking at his papa and then at Donatello.

—Is he my new dad? —she asked, as serious and neutral as Pucci often was— I kind of liked Dio better.

—Oh for God's fucking s-

He was shut by Pucci's hand on his mouth, the older man's jaw visibly clenching and a sweat drop on his forehead.

—How many times do I have to say it, Donatello. Don't swear in front of her.

[jellorat]

Game of Thrones - Office Politics

So my boss tried to keep me from leaving my team for a different team by bringing up my super official FMLA medical issues and stating I could not fulfill a major requirement for the job.

I know her agenda. I am running one of the biggest assignments for her, and she doesn't want me to leave, so she pulled out all the stops to try and get the position yanked before I could take it.

The other team got their hire advert yanked to prevent me from going over. I got called and asked if it was true I could not fulfill this job requirement by someone, not on the new team, and I said that was uncool but left it.

Then the boss came at me and doubled down on me not being able to do these things due to her perception of my medical issues.

I went to HR, who was horrified she was discussing our medical issues. Do you know what's weird? I am on the Diversity and Equity and Belonging committee for this large workplace, so the HR folks know me.

I think the boss is going to have a no good very awful come to Jesus moment on Monday. This is ablism, pure and simple. She used my disability to create a scenario where I had to stay on her team. I'm not about people using my disability to further their agenda, or telling me what my disability is or isn't. I decide what I can and can't do.

[survivingsusac]

The Juncture of Faith, Science and Middle School

This started as a Facebook post but in my typical way I got overly wordy and thought, “Nope, this should be a BLOG post.”

Which lead to me getting my sleep deprived self out of bed at 4:30 in the morning to grab my laptop and write the blog post you are reading now. That and to empty what was a full bladder

So what you may know if you’re a long-time reader is that I fight for my quality of life every day. What my readers may not know is that I also fight for my daughter’s quality of life most days. The irony here is that most people in real life are unaware that I am permanently disabled but know that I am always fighting for my daughter.

This is one of the dangers of relationships. You get whatever perception people present to you based on whatever filters they have up when they interact with you. You guys remember my Filters blog from May 12 of 2021? Well, while that relationship with Ideal Partner may have sadly sunk, the filter principle still floats.

Whatever personality filter you put up in various aspects of your life is going to vastly affect the type of persona you emulate and the perception of you that your audience develops.

NOW that you’ve patently let me establish context, TO the point.

My almost 12-year-old AbventureGirl JUST started middle school this August. So, we are now entering a complicated time for women of both faith and science to be in a science class. This convergence of demographics 100% includes and #AbventureGIrl and I.

AbventureGIrl spent about 30, THIRTY, minutes with me and my mom-my rock-outside her driveway last night ranting her frustrations about the theory of evolution, which her teacher, who we’ll call Febreze, is currently pouring into the students.

I try to explain that what she is experiencing is the frustration of a lack of context. This side of 18 years the public education system I have that DOWN. I begin to explain that in the school systems attempt to teach them valid scientific principles, they are failing to point out how the conceptual information will be useful and needed in future studies in all kinds of other subject areas.

AbventureGirl explained to me the multifaceted ways the evolution material she is being taught is double dumb.

So last night, outside the driveway because everywhere is a classroom, she learns the difference between learning for belief and memorizing to pass the class. AbventureGirl explained she understands the value of this and will de what needs to be done to maintain her straight A’s.

About an hour later at home we discussed AT LENGTH how, while you may not agree that evolution is the way man got to planet Earth, you can learn the value of applying the principles of evolution to how species change over multiple generations.

AbventureGirl loves the show Wild Kratts, which is where her immense knowledge of wild animal facts begins. And for years I have used her interest in Legos as a metaphor for God’s itty building blocks that every creature which replicates is made out of. We talked about how this theory of evolution may not be responsible for creation of man, but it does play a vital role in letting ecosystems figure out the survival of the fittest and who gets to be apex predators and who gets to be the important role of the prey that keeps the ecosystem functioning.

In short, I gave AbventureGirl the context of how multiple generations and predation can lead to a change in the traits a species presents with, which leads to the overall species changing or evolving to the version of the species that you find out living free and in the wild. (that’s a key Wild Kratts phrase).

AbventureGirl is like:

Why can’t Febreze teach me about it the way you do with Legos and predation?! The way you say it makes sense. Why are we supposed to just blindly believe that all of the sudden men went from being chimpanzees to standing up to be able to see predators beyond the nonsense tall grasses that somehow survived a global fire when the trees didn’t? that NOT how fires work.

Told you it was a full-on rant.

In long, I talked with AbventureGirl about how because of predation, the animals who are easily seen and caught in the wild are the ones who get eaten first. There’s her Wild Kratts. So they’re Legos are no longer in the gene pool to get passed on to their babies. There’s our long-standing Lego metaphor A bright blue frog is more likely to be seen in a forest because the forest is typically brown and green. So, Mr. Frog’s predators, birds, are more likely to see that food and nom them up. If they’re nommed they can’t make more bright blue frog eggs, so over generation of frog babies, there will be less and less bright blue forest frogs because they play terrible hide and seek. And more and more of the frogs that have good camouflage will survive because of the principal of survival of the fittest, hence all the green species of forest frogs.

Now, let’s say a momma frog has exceptionally long legs. What do you think happens with her long leg Legos?

AbventureGIrl immediately catches on. Those Legos get passed on to some of her frog babies and eventually the long-legged frogs can jump further, get away from predators, and outlive the short-legged frogs.

While the conversations may take a few hours, which means they span several locations, and multiple metaphors, Abventuregirl is the ideal combination of critical thinker, smart, and patient. She is able to connect the dots to make sense of the information poured into her by Febreze, who is doing a fantastic job in her role as a middle school teacher. Abigail just has other mentors who support her asking questions and having engaging, intelligent, conversations.

She just seems to save them all up for me, instead of asking the Useless Sack of Flesh (ugh)

But here I am, parenting, working, fighting for my life erryday. Ya know,

Surviving Susac,

Aurora

[1863-project]

Something that fascinates me...and not in a good way...is that people are so quick to call out sexism, racism, homophobia, transphobia, etc. but balk at doing the same for ableism.

People are actively willing to make points about those things - this site, for example, is full of discussion on LGBTQIA+ stereotypes and how certain media depictions have set public perception of people who fall under the rainbow back - but when it comes to disabled and mentally ill people speaking up, so few people want to listen right now...even other disabled and mentally ill people.

And it does get frustrating when you’re out in the world and can see how public perceptions of you currently are, and how stereotypes and media portrayals affect how people see you in the real world. Recently, I had a library patron refer to me as “weird” because I was overly-enthusiastic about solving her problem and my voice got too loud. It was demeaning, and she left before even allowing me to finish solving the issue. It was a reminder that autistic people like myself are still seen as “other.” I usually mask pretty well, but when a patron gives me a hard time, like this woman was doing, the mask slips sometimes, and so my voice got louder. If I’d said I was autistic, she probably wouldn’t have understood, or perhaps might have made me feel even worse.

In the real world, I face microaggressions a lot because I’m autistic. People who I choose to come out to will often say, “But you don’t seem autistic!” because they learned about autism from the media, or from a friend of a friend’s high support needs child, or from Autism Speaks. When they say that, they’re saying “wow, you have a Master’s degree and a job so you’re not REALLY autistic, because you can do all this stuff and live on your own.” And if I don’t tell them, they say stuff like that patron did, calling me “weird,” or pointing out everything I do “wrong” but not adding in what I do right. Being an adult out in the real world makes it deeply apparent to me that we’re not doing enough to combat the stigma on disabilities and mental illnesses, based on how people respond to them, how slow they are to make things accessible, etc.

When you’re isolated in a social media bubble and your world is still small because you’re young and in school, you’re often insulated from these things. It really does hurt when you become more aware, start going out into the world and meeting new people, and realizing just how much people still fear or hate people like you, even if they don’t think they do. The progress we’ve made in the past decade is incredible, but things like how so many of the library patrons fear the homeless patrons who are forced to live with untreated mental illness remind me of how far we have to go regarding marginalized people in this society.

You can help, too - if someone explains why certain things are ableist or harmful to disabled or mentally ill people, it’s a good idea to listen and try to think about them and see if you’ve perpetuated things in your past. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person, but this is an opportunity for growth, which is a good thing! We’re all always learning, and I know in my own past I had a lot of things to unpack myself. It doesn’t make me a bad person, just someone who learned more about the world and was able to take that information to heart and grow from it. So if someone’s pointing out something you said or did was ableist, they’re giving you the opportunity to learn and take it to heart. They’re not calling you a bad person, especially if it’s a post that’s general and not targeted at anyone. They’re just trying to help to make the world be a more accepting place, and this is a good time to be receptive instead of doubling down and deciding you’re being persecuted. If things start to get hostile, that’s another story entirely, but when people are posting things that are more general and explaining why they’re harmful, it usually means they’re just trying to improve things and that’s a good time to listen, especially if they have legitimate sources to back them up.

Just...if you’re willing to be receptive to information about other prejudices but not about ableism, think about why that might be the case.

[mikami]

hey there!!! i was thinking lately about the possibility of misa's way of perhaps relying on her cutesy/pretty/sexy aspect as a conscious or unconscious act of survival.

we know about the concrete traumatizing life changing experiences she's lived through. i wonder how safe it is to especulate what else she has gone through as a young woman who is a model.

& im curious abt your understanding of this aspect of her-- how do you think the way she presents herself to the world & others (both in personality & appearance) relates to her job? to the construction of the self as a product of consumption (especially w like i said, misa being a woman)?

does misa perform these things as a way to neutralize the harm of violence at the hands of men?

I'm not sure I would call it 'survival' exactly, but oh my god, Misa and gender performance is such an interesting topic.

I personally wouldn't headcanon further active violence into her backstory than we have been shown - I feel that if we're shown a characters formative traumatic experience (family death, stalking) that it's to give us a fairly complete picture of their life and motivations.

But at the same time, society is full of what I will now arbitrarily call 'passive violence' in the way women are put at a disadvantage. And definitely, her whole cutesy persona is in dialogue with that hostile world, navigating it and taking advantage of it.

I think Misa is an interesting case, because she is somebody who both entirely internalized gender roles for herself unquestioned and is deeply aware of how being perceived as a woman hinders or helps her in any given situation.

Like, on the one hand Misa is sexist society's wet dream. She is somebody who very sincerely believes that her place and fulfillment as a woman is at the side of a prince charming. She is completely convinced that her purpose lies in a relationship with a man.

Even though she's not the 'good wife' stereotype due to being a fashion subculture kind of girl (see: the Yagami parents' disdain of her), she's still holding these values close to her heart.

On the other hand, the way she weaponizes the perception people have of her is immediately front and center in her intro scene.

The VIZ translation here drives me mildly insane because the Japanese term she uses to describe herself here is "純粋な子" which in this context should roughly translate to 'pure young woman'.

It's not "Kira is nice to his supporters" but more along the line of "Kira is nice to good little girls". Misa knows she seems harmless on first sight. She knows her existence as a pretty frail teenage girl makes her an object of protective instinct to most men. But at the same time she juxtaposes it with the knowledge that she isn't just what she seems - as much as she adores Kira, she is perfectly confident that on the Death Note user power scale she's higher up.

Misa is fully aware that as an idol, she's a product to be sold. And that is where she personally finds her power - she doesn't protest female stereotypes and prejudice, she acts within those parameters to grab power from men unnoticed.

We see this most in her interactions with the Yotsuba Group, particularly Higuchi. Misa is aware she is desirable and she weaponizes that desirability against him. Presenting as cute, naive, soft and thoroughly attractive gives her power of manipulation. It is the capital she is used to bargaining with at all times.

In response to a world that is predisposed to take her less seriously because she's a dainty pretty girl, Misa has decided to intentionally curate that exact reputation for herself - only to then be able to use it to get her way. She's cute because men who want to get into her pants will do her favors. She's cute because how could anyone be mad at such a cute young woman acting selfishly?

I feel like we see that in her body language with Light - when he doesn't react as expected to her coming to see him against his wishes, she doubles down on the sweet body language and the "teehee, I am just an emotional little girl, you can't be mad at my pure lovey dovey feelings" act.

It's a neat mix because on the one hand: she clearly believes this about herself. She genuinely does think being a cute lovey dovey girl is her biggest purpose on this Earth. She genuinely enjoys being an attractive young woman (we see her dress up and act cutesy when she is by herself in her apartment after all). This is the self that she sincerely wants for herself.

But on the other hand she is so clearly aware of its impact. Her status as a product to be consumed is a constant bargaining chip.

Most heartbreakingly and extremely seen in the time after she loses her memories of being Kira and desperately attempts to buy her freedom by promising parts of herself to the assumed stalker.

Less heartbreakingly and more girlboss-y in interaction with the Yotsuba Eight, as mentioned before:

Self-objectification is an active practice of subverting power to Misa - exercising power without being seen as powerful and thus escaping the watchful eyes of those who could feel threatened by her.