#our meditation buddy

[craniumknight]

gabbro <333

[onelittlespiral]

FML: Confidence

I had decided it was finally time for a change. A few years after college and sitting all day at the office had taken its toll. Twink death was here, but I wanted to have a chance at a few more wild nights before I hit my thirties. So, on a buddy’s recommendation I called up Dr. Webb. He had been touted to me as one of the best in his industry, able to help with all kinds of health and wellness. In my consultation, we discussed my goals. I talked about my concerns around aging and some of the weight I had put on. He probed a bit about my health and family medical history. He was so calm and gentle. It was so easy to talk with him I may have even disclosed more than I wanted to about my college days and conquests. At the end, he leaned back and read over his notes:

“If I am being honest, I am not sure what you are too concerned with. You may not be your youngest, but I wouldn’t say you are deviating too much from a health body at your age.”

“But Doc, I don’t want to just slide into my thirties. I want to get out there like I did just a few years ago.”

“There is nothing wrong with aging my boy. It’s scary for us all but we aren’t stopping the clock any time soon.”

“I don’t want to stop the clock. I just want to feel confident in my body again.”

He stroked his beard and thought for a moment, “Now that is maybe something I can work with.” The rest of the visit was boring. But by the time I left his office, I had a pack vitamin supplements, a list of recommended exercises, and a follow up appointment in a few weeks.

Over the next couple days or so, I diligently took the supplements, followed the exercise routine, and logged my daily progress. It was strange, I didn’t really see a difference, but did start to feel a bit better. The biggest change I think I felt though was a kind of hormonal rebalance. I think doc mentioned it. My sleep was slowly becoming more regular, mood swings improved, and my flexibility was improving as I followed my exercise routine. However, I think it was also starting to create a fixation. I would just need to see my progress, check if I was improving. Whenever I got a small chance I would just stare at myself and focus on my curves. Were they any smaller?

I mentioned it to Dr. Webb at our next meeting. He laughed it off, said it was nothing unusual. But he did send me home with some meditation files to help me relax and center my mind. Help me let go of my worries and all that. And I will confirm they were effective. I popped on the first tape that night, listening to breathing exercises and ambient white noise. Woke up an hour later feeling refreshed. I don’t think I thought about my body much that night. In fact, I hardly thought about anything. My mind felt so clear.

It continued like that for a week I think. To be honest, the days started blurring together a bit. The routine was really sinking in, abs became an almost unconscious part of my day. At some point though, I don’t know when, I did start to notice a change as I would finish the tapes. I would always come to hard as wood. My appetite for sex was off the charts, quickly becoming a nuisance to take care of myself, several times a day. I even had to take a break at work one day. That is, until one day I saw myself in the mirror.

I was getting ready for the day, and suddenly something in me shifted. I stopped pulling down my tee and stared at myself in the mirror.

Damn, had I always been this hot?

Something about the way my jeans hugged into my sides and the thick matted carpet stretching across my stomach felt new and exciting. My mind said it should have felt off, but staring at my gut and feeling its weight ripple as I rubbed it up and down, I was entranced.

‘I felt big, strong, and masculine’, a voice echoed in mind, and I couldn’t agree more. Instantly my plans for the day were shot. I needed to get out there and find someone to share this body with. I couldn’t keep it all to myself. I popped my top off and went on the prowl for a piece of ass to demolish. A few quick photos and I had some nameless twink on his way over for an afternoon delight. Within moments of his arrival, I felt a shift in energy between us. I was used to a kind of back and forth, pull and push as people met and flirted. This was all pull. It started slowly, as he sat next to me on the couch. Then, he placed his hand on my thigh and gently rubbed. I was soon no longer talking to him, I was giving him commands:

“Scoot closer to me.” He scooted.

“Rub my belly a bit, don’t be shy.” He hesitated for just a moment before gliding his hand over my furry belly.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He nodded limply. He was fixated on other things

‘A man gets what he wants,’ rang the voice in my head. And my patience was running thin.

The commands flowed from my mouth quickly:

“Take off my shirt”

“Take off your shirt”

“Lay on me a bit”

“Don’t mind the smell, I’m wrapping my arm around you.”

He quickly followed commands, even started taking huffs of my musky pits as he curled into my arms. I didn’t tell him to do that yet, but I felt so in control as this man was getting hard practically in my lap. It was time.

“Pull out my cock.”

“Put your head right there.”

“Open wide.”

“Suck, boy.”

It was just so easy to get him to comply. He was like putty in my hands. He just bent to my authority as I guided his willing throat, mouth, and tongue through the best blow job of my life. By the time I was ready to move on, a damp spot had formed through his shorts at the tip of his throbbing cock. It bobbed in the air a bit as I turned him around and pulled down his shorts. I took a moment to press myself against him, let him feel the power of my body.

“Bend over.” And he went down on all fours.

By the time my next appointment came up, I already had a small selection of boys willing to come over when I needed them. They were so small, I was almost worried I would break them in half. But it felt so freeing to discover this side of myself. Nothing could beat a twink sitting on my dick, begging for me to cum in him. I reported back to the Doc that I didn’t think I needed his services anymore. He said that he couldn’t agree more, and that even he was shocked at how much progress I made in such a short period of time.

“Now would you kindly put your shorts back on? They did not need to come off for this examination.”

“No,” I replied, “gotta take care of some business first. You want to show me that cute ass of yours.”

“I don’t think so, I…”

“Please doctor, with a body like this? I’m confident you’ll find your work satisfying.”

[viviennevermillion]

when they know you like them

⟡ notes: first time writing for record of ragnarok yayy! guys if you haven't seen this show you should watch it, we have tournament arc, pretty men and sad backstories. comments are appreciated.

⟡ contains: character x gn!reader, how they act when they know you like them but you haven't told them, varying lengths because i am inherently biased

⟡ characters: buddha, beelzebub, hades, nikola

⟡ warnings: all of these are fluff except for beel's which is full of soul-crushing angst i am sorry

He's such a tease and you can't even be mad at him because unlike Loki or Hermes he's genuinely sweet about it. He overheard Brunhilde talking about how you like him and he decided to have some fun with it first before he confesses.

You meet him by the tree he likes to relax under before his fight and he's happy to see you. "Hi fam! What a pleasant surprise!", he exclaims and waves at you when he sees you walking towards him from a distance, "to what do I owe the honor?"

When you tell him you just wanted to wish him luck before his battle, he grins and pats your head repeatedly before resorting to poking your cheek. "That's sweet of you, bud", he sits down under the tree again and pats the patch of grass by his side, gesturing for you to join him; an offer which you gladly accept.

"I know you don't like being told what to do", you start and let out a sigh, "but don't you die on me out there..."

He lets out a hearty laugh.

"I'll accept it this once, because it's you", he chuckles and leans closer, whispering in your ear with a tone of voice that sounds like it's laced with honey, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're worried about dear old me..."

You stay silent in response to this, which just seems to amuse him more. "You know…best not to lose yourself in worry and fear, it does not do you any good", he warns with a challenging tone, cupping your cheek gently to inspect the emotion that's showing on your face, "getting too attached can often be our demise..."

"I'm good, thank you", you reply dryly, not giving in to his teasing. You reach into your bag to pull out some candy you brought along. "Offer for my favorite god", you state nonchalantly and hand it to him. "So I'm your favorite, huh?", he chuckles, booping your nose, "that's interesting."

He eats some of the candy and remarks that it's tasty before his attention shifts to you again. "I found meditation can help with worries like yours", he explains but can't hide the smile that's tucking at the corner of his lips, as he's fully aware how easily your focus shifts when he's around, "I can show you some techniques if you'd like."

So he spends the next 10 minutes instructing you on meditation and you're trying, but at this point you're suspecting that with the way he keeps whispering instructions into your ear and leans close to you or holds your hand, he's setting you up to fail. "I'm starting this on heightened difficulty", you mumble dryly and he chuckles again. He's clearly having a blast with this.

He's leaning so close to you that you can feel his breath on your lips and he's like "do you feel enlightened yet?"

You open your eyes to glare at him. "You're the bane of my existence."

He forms two peace signs with his hands and sends you an innocent smile. "That's when I'm at my cutest!"

Before he leaves for his fight he gently pulls you into his arms. "Don't worry too much, buddy, I'll be fine", he has his arms wrapped around your shoulders in a comforting embrace. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, relaxing into the warmth of his chest. "I'll see you after the fight, pinky promise", he smiles and gently squeezes you before making his way to the arena.

When you join him again after the battle he's finishing up that bag of candy you gave to him. "I heard you bailed from the infirmary", you let out a sigh and sit down next to him in the grass. "Are you here to drag me back?", he sends you a questioning gaze. You shake your head. "I know better than to try that."

He lets out a satisfied hum and you hug him. "I'm glad you're okay", you whisper and he looks at you with a fond expression, way softer than what you're used to from him. "I told you not to worry too much", he keeps an arm wrapped around you and leans closer to you again until your lips are almost touching, "I think you need more meditation." He grins and plops a candy into his mouth.

You look at him through half-lidded eyes and sigh. "You know what- fuck this shit, next time I'll just bring pocky."

He lets out a laugh and presses a sweet kiss to your cheek. "That's one way to do it."

One word: Panic

He meets you after his round because you're one of the people who tend to his wounds. You're so sweet to him; you have no idea, not the faintest clue about the curse he is afflicted by.

He's darkness incarnate, at least in his mind; only ever leaving his secluded quarters these days to fight; like in the tournament. To fight, never to protect. His hands weren't made for protection; his heart wasn't made to be loved. But who can really help the things they long for in this life?

Meanwhile, you're like a ray of the sun that mistakenly fell into the depths of hell from which he crawled. He had been shunned; detested for what he was, yet you didn't seem to notice. He thought it was stupid. Or perhaps these were his defenses talking.

Or maybe you knew exactly who he was and simply chose to pay it no mind. Also stupid.

He acted cold around you in the infirmary. Brushed you off with quick responses. Yet you always smiled at him with this carefree, kind expression on your face. Just the way his friends had done once upon a time. Images flashed his mind of their dead bodies and the horror of what he had done. He didn't mean to, he knew he was cursed, yet he hated himself; hated that he was host to the monster that lived within him.

He left the infirmary early that day. Best not to spend too much time around people who were nice to him. It might just get them killed, he thought with bitterness clouding his mind.

But you weren't convinced when he had told you that he was fine upon leaving. So to make sure you didn't release him in bad condition, you sent him a letter, asking him how he was faring. To be honest, you didn't expect that he would actually respond, considering how closed off he was when he met you. But Beelzebub was a lonely man. Terribly lonely and suffering in silence without an ounce of company, just waiting for the day someone or something would be able to put an end to his existence. But that was a dream that felt far out of his reach. So he settled for the next best thing: easing the pain.

So for the next few weeks, the two of you changed letters and every time he opened up a little, you felt joyful and loved that you were getting to know him better.

When you ask him out one day, Beel's heart freezes. This was all too familiar... attachment. Something he couldn't allow himself to have. Something that would bring destruction upon the innocent.

He clutched the letter tightly in his hand, crumpling the paper in the process as he paced back and forth through his room, trying to calm his breathing; trying to make the thought of Lilith's dead body leave his mind. He couldn't allow anything to happen to you. He was a monster and you didn't deserve to become the next tragedy in his life. For weeks now since you had started exchanging letters he put extra locks on his doors at night; some of them with numbers only he knew; he'd freeze the keys and hide them throughout his room in the hopes that he would wake up before the monster could escape the confines it was in.

After receiving the letter where you had confessed that you had taken a liking to him and would like to go out with him; he woke up on the following morning with his room in shambles. Some of the furniture was torn apart, papers were scattered across the floor and the door showed signs of abuse and violence; large scratch marks and some broken locks.

He sent you a letter inquiring about your well-being this time. The wait for your response was spent in agony.

When he finally received a letter back; being informed that you weren't anywhere near his room that night, that you were safe and sound; relief washed over him.

But that was the last letter he ever sent. He deemed it too dangerous to keep you around. You deserved to live and to thrive. Nothing that should be cut short because of his selfish desire for companionship.

As the months went by, the letters got less and less. Until finally you stopped sending them. That was the first time he had cried since Lilith's death. The first time he had slumped down on the floor and sobbed helplessly. His room became silent again. He was alone once more with nothing but the shadow of what could have been.

The only one who is actually normal about the whole thing.

Hades is a gentleman and he doesn't have enough humor in his heart to tease you like some of his fellow gods would.

Once he has a hunch that you have feelings for him; he prepares to ask you out.

He's very classy with it. He buys you a bouquet of roses and brings them to you, greeting you with a soft smile that few actually get to see on his face. He appears confident and casual; the only sign of nervousness being that he keeps fidgeting with the collar of his shirt without noticing.

Of course you immediately notice the bouquet. But you don't bring it up until he does. "Hades! Good to see you", you greet him and give him a smile. He smiles back at you. "Y/n, I- was wondering if you'd like to have dinner sometime?", he stumbles over his words one time but overall delivers the question very professionally.

You're a little caught off-guard. After all; Hades is not someone where you notice he has feelings for you unless he decides to let you know. "Oh...", you take a moment to process, "I'd love to!"

Hades is glad to hear that answer. Whatever was he worried about anyway?

He takes you to a nice restaurant on your date, both of you dressed up in fine clothes and Hades can't keep his eyes off you. His expression softens every time he looks at you and he finally realizes how much you make him weak in the knees.

Despite everything, he keeps his confident demeanor, offering to pay for your meal and making conversation with you during the date so the atmosphere never turns awkward.

It's mostly him complaining about his job really.

"And it's not even like they don't know that trying to feed the Cerberus is forbidden; it's very clearly stated in the 'Welcome to Helheim' leaflet and yet every month someone loses an arm to that thing-", he pauses in his rant to look up at you, "I'm sorry if you don't want to hear about my work."

You shake your head. "It's fine, I think it's quite interesting", you reach for his hand and hold it on the table, "hold on- there's a leaflet?"

Hades chuckles and pulls said leaflet out of his pocket, handing it to you. "Rule Nr. 2: 'You cannot actually climb out of Helheim. Seriously, stop trying'", you read aloud and raise your eyebrows, "I feel like there's a story behind that one." Hades gives you a painful expression. "I wish there wasn't."

Hades likes holding your hand on the dinner table and he always makes sure that you have a comfortable and fun evening

Despite his calm and serious demeanor, the man is absolutely whipped for you, so the more chaotic you are, the more likely it is that he'll end up joining you in shenanigans that are unlike anything he'd do if you weren't a part of his life.

Loki once catches him dancing in the rain with you, absolutely drenched from the water and Hades just sends him a death glare. "Not a word." Meanwhile Loki is just trying to keep his wheezing in.

If he feels like you're up for it, Hades asks if he can kiss you after the date. For a man so stoic and serious, his kiss is very gentle.

You never have to worry about Hades knowing how you feel about him because your feelings are in good hands with him.

Is probably having a whole crisis about this.

He doesn't even notice you like him, he just sees you as "y/n, who listens to me talk about science" and that's what he appreciates you for. He has such tunnel vision when it comes to his work that he doesn't even stop to consider how he feels about you until Raiden of all people brings it up.

He's like "Wow you're so lucky that someone like y/n has their eyes on you!" and Nikola stops in his tracks like excuse me what-

"Don't tell me you didn't notice... they're down bad for you?!"

The shared human contestants lobby was a mistake, Nikola thinks

Other people have to spell out all the obvious signs to him that show that you're romantically interested in him for Nikola to "subscribe to the hypothesis"

That's when the panic starts.

"Like, what do I even do, I've never been on a date before!"

Raiden raises an eyebrow: "Seriously? Never?"

Nikola corrects himself as he paces from one side of the room to the other. "Well technically I have been on ONE date before but it was a disaster because I accidentally caused the misconception that I'm trying to build a nuclear bomb, which i wasn't-"

Basically, Nikola has no fucking idea how to approach romance

He ends up sending his pigeon to deliver a letter to you, asking you out on a date, which he describes as "a fun day full of scientific experiments" and he's ecstatic when your answer is yes.

"Don't worry, this'll be fine, I even got them a gift", Nikola says, excited about your date.

The "gift" turned out to be a giant laser he built specifically for you. He was confident in it at first but ever since people kept telling him that usually flowers or chocolate are appropriate first date gifts, he's been nervous. To everyone's surprise, you end up absolutely loving it.

"Oh my god I've always wanted a giant laser!"

"See? That's what I said too", Nikola gives you a fist-bump.

Nevermind you're going to fit together just fine.

Your date mostly consists of him guiding you through various science experiments and rambling about the scientific principles behind them.

"I understood nothing of what it was you just said but I think it's endearing how passionate you are about this", you chuckle.

His last experiment is one where he turns the lights in the room off and uses several lenses and light sources to make beautiful lights in all colors dance across the walls and the ceiling of the room. You're in awe about the beautiful sight.

"You see, this happens because the light reflects off the-" he can't finish his sentence because he's caught off-guard by the kiss you press to his cheek. You then lean your head on his shoulder. "Let's just watch them for a while", you whisper and reach for his hand. He supposes he can continue explaining later and smiles at you softly.

[piarelei]

Touch starved

AU where the Navy cares about mental health but in the most annoying way possible.

The Program had Jake noted down as recalcitrant. He couldn’t deny the truth of it. 

In his early career, he would have never believed that the Navy could one day so strongly advocate for mental health. The Program’s agent was staring placidly at him from the other side of his kitchen table, his file between her manicured hands. She was someone who was used to scrutiny and did it in turn without an ounce of shame. 

“I’m afraid we will have to see improvement or the Program will have to ground you. Temporarily, of course.” 

Jake looked away. He had to swallow his first impulse. He was not suited to begging. “I’ve never been a great sleeper, you know. That has nothing to do with the job.” 

She smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. “You understand that we cannot allow access to such expensive and destructive weapons to someone who is already under duress.” 

Jake clenched his teeth. There was no point in arguing, but it didn’t stop him from trying. “Part of the job is being under duress. I’ve always known how to deal.” 

“We are doing things differently now.” She looked down at the file in her hands. “Well, I see that at least you have been regular with the monitor, despite a rocky start. This is good.”

Jake had to do his best not to sneer. 

“Now, you have refused therapy, counsel, journaling, meditation and yoga classes, art and animal therapy, and a number of other things. If I listed them all we would be here for hours. No point in losing time.” 

Jake crossed his arms and lifted his chin, defiant. 

“I suggest that our next step is assigning you to buddy,” she continued on, placidly. She lifted a hand when he opened his mouth to talk. “Actually, before you answer, I have to let you know that if you refuse, I won’t be able to keep you in the air any longer. We need to see that you are willing to put in the work.” 

He swallowed. “What if I get therapy now?” 

She smiled again, lipstick-stained mouth thinning into some disingenuous. “That would be a step in the right direction. But I’m afraid we need more from you this time. We want someone to monitor you closely in your journey.” 

Sweat gathered in his palms. Him, who so proudly claimed to be able to withstand anything, anxious at the idea of a stranger embedded in his intimacy. 

“We have already found a volunteer to help you. He’s a familiar face, it shouldn’t be too hard for you both to be roommates. There’s a car waiting for you outside, you can pack and it’ll drive you to your new home for the next few weeks.” 

Jake had the strongest urge to simply book it out of here, forget about his entire life rooted in the Navy and start anew. Maybe in Europe. 

She stood up, gathering her things, straightening her uniform. “I do hope that we do not have to see each other again, Lieutenant. Best of luck.” 

He nodded but did not offer any parting words. 

#

Bradley Bradshaw was waiting for him on the stoop of their new abode. Jake almost swore up a storm at his sight, but waited until the car had disappeared from view to do so. 

“Nice to see you too, Hangman,” Bradshaw offered with a new slump to his shoulders, leaning back against the railing. 

“What, surprised?” Jake asked, already feeling too tight in his own skin. “Weren’t you briefed?” 

“Well, nobody gave me your name, you know that damn well. I honestly didn’t think of you when they gave me your case.” 

“Oh yeah? Too neurotic to make you think of me?”

Rooster shrugged. “Probably should have, honestly. Recalcitrant. Individualist. Anxious about low stress situations. Insomniac.” Bradshaw reached out a hand to touch Jake’s shoulder, light as a feather. “Touch starved.” 

Jake swatted his hand away. “Fuck off. Nothing that getting laid cannot resolve.” 

Rooster made a face. “I don’t think that’s how it works.” 

“Sure does. Now, are you getting ready to go out or do I have the pleasure of my own company?”

“I don’t really have a choice now, do I?” 

“You’re the one who volunteered.” 

#

The club Jake elected as his hunting ground for the night was packed to the brim. Bradshaw gave him a wild-eyed look as they passed the door and tried to reach for him before Jake slinked away. He did not bother to see if Rooster could follow. 

The bodies pressed against him, warm and sweaty, and it was almost good. Jake pulled himself into the frenzy of writhing people, barely listening to the music, only reacting to the foreign touches of strangers all around him. He let hands guide his hips and lips find his neck, before they lost interest and turned around. Manicured nails racked through his hair. A large arm pulled him tight and let him go almost just as fast. 

Jake was soaking it all up. He did not linger on the brevity of touches because it had always been inevitable. Jake was not to be kept. He was mostly fine with that. 

But then, there were hands at his shoulders and the off-beat sway of a large body, a palm cupping his head to let it rest against a collarbone and Bradshaw was burning to the touch, as comforting as a campfire in a silent forest. 

They stayed together for a long moment, coming to a standstill by the second song and completely immobile by the third. Jake’s hands were shaking. His heart was cradled in his chest, steady. The knot in his stomach was gone, but was fighting to come back, lingering at the edges of his consciousness. 

“Come on,” said Bradshaw, “let’s go home.” 

#

Bradshaw put him into bed and Jake was too ashamed to even speak. Now that Bradshaw was a careful two feet away, he could not believe that he had been tamed by a hug. 

He stared hotly at the ceiling, until Rooster’s monstrous hand gently covered his eyes, lashes fluttering against his palm. 

“Sleep,” he instructed. 

Jake tried to disobey, but Rooster stayed seated by his side until he gave in. He slept.

I don't know if I have energy for more of this AU (I always say that lmao). Give it some love with a reblog !

[callmerhynner]

Wanna switch?

synopsis: A wish a psychic has chanted all his life gets granted, by a witch that just wants more answers. Regret seeps, but will something else too?

tags: bad elden german, witch!fem!reader, maybe ooc Kusuo, story building (if you squint), no idea tbh, slice of life (maybe?)

"Saiki, good timing buddy!" a purple-haired medium exclaims, seeing his friend, greeting with a up-high wave and a bright-lit smile.

"Nevermind" the psychic merely replies, turning his heels and walking away. The purple haired male doesn't take the hint, however, and wraps his arm around his shoulders and pulls him closer. He waves a letter at his face and start talking about how a pretty girl had finally become friends with him--he expects it to go farther, though.

Saiki looks at the letter he's waving begrudgingly, thinking of ways he could get away with killing the fool that was on his hunt for the coffee jelly he had seen in so many advertisements.

"It's not even addressed to you." he says. Toritsuka lets out a cartoon-ish shocked face and sighs in defeat. As the medium drops to his knees, the boy takes the letter in curiosity.

He regrets being curious more than he regrets taking that letter's offer.

Now, he was sat on the floor carpet, you continue meditating and keeping yourself reserved, though that wasn't going as good as you'd hoped seeing as a certain pink-haired psychic was watching you. You continue to keep humming, trying to block out the stare you could feel through your skin. After one more try, you let out an annoyed grunt and sent a glare at the boy.

"What do you want?" you say, brows furrowed.

"Don't get so pissed off at me, you're the one that invited me." he replies, pointing out your past conversation.

“I’m gonna kill that idiot.” you sigh, pinching off the candles’ wicks that circled you and standing yourself up. “I’m guessing your servant told you about my offer?”

"He's nowhere related with me." the psychic replies with the same monotone voice that piqued your curiosity

You stand in front of him, head tilted in thought as you measured him up and down. He stood quiet, surely reading your mind as you estimated his every noticeable detail.

"I'm guessing you already know why I invited you over?" You hum, walking past him and going over to your study desk, looking for something, by the looks of it.

"He mentioned." He says bluntly, with how fuzzy your mind was getting. He has been reading through your thoughts but it sounds as if it was broadcasted on a broken radio. If you didn't look so decent and well taken care of, the psychic would question if you had been drinking.

"I know you're psychic and all, and that--ugh, where is it." you groan, looking through each drawer and corner of the desk. "--and that you're probably hearing very thought in me right now."

"I do warn 'ya, not many can even understand this broken head I got up here." you chuckle lightly, knocking on the top of you skull before continuing to look for whatever it was you were looking for. "From what people like you tell me, my head sounds like a wounded doll or some 60s voicebox."

"What do you mean 'people like me'?" The pink-haired boy questions, eyebrows furrowed down.

"Did I say that? I don't remember." You just turn to face him with an innocent smile and a shrug. Turning your back again.

"Are there other psychics?" he sounded a lot more emoted when the topic was mentioned. He trued harder and harder to read through your thoughts, to no avail.

"I'll tell you about that later, for now... Aha! There you are, little prick." You exclaim, raising a large old-looking book with a gilded lock guarding it. "This will answer both of our questions..." you smile with a dark air surrounding you.

"If you're willing, of course." you add, looking up at the man in front of you. You let a hand out for him to grab, reluctantly he does. Your eyes squint as your smile grows bigger in excitement.

You open the book with a key you had tied to your necklace and skim through pages and pages until you see your desired spell. As if by magic, the candles were lit up once more, you and the psychic inside the lit circle back-to-back. You raise your arm as something resembling static buzzes around it, eyes going pale, you chant an ancient text from the book.

"In tiefen Schatten, weben Flüstern,

Tauschen wir Formen, unsere Seelen zu bewahren."

The room starts to fume and fog begins to puff in from the static's heat. The room's walls are barely seen with how thick the air is, from the posters to even the doorknob, nothing is noticeable. It's a wonder what your parents must think when about when you're up to these gimmicks.

"Dankbarkeit gelernt, in neuer Fleischlichkeit,

Lehre gegeben, für dich und mich."

You chant before the smoke begins to collect and wrap around each of your bodies, the pressure is tolerable yet uncomfortably tight. The psychic begins to cough when the clouds around his necks tighten and smoke chain begins to wrap his wrist linked to yours. He feels his feet lift, this was crazier than what he could have ever imagined.

'How powerful is this witch?!' he yells to himself as you both spin around. He shuts his eyes, wishing the worst on every soul he could think of that led him to this decision. And before he knew it, he was back on the floor, laid down on the hard wood floor. He skimmed the room, nothing.

It was as if nothing had happened, there were not smoke nor any traces of the witch's doing. He stood up, thinking he may have been pranked since nothing felt different, who was he kidding? A witch that could take away his powers? He should've never hoped anything to come of it.

He stood up, he expected the chatter of people's thoughts to clamor him as they usually did, when he heard nothing, his finger fiddled with his other hand to check his germanium ring.

"Huh..?" the air stood quiet, he stood still and the room was suddenly colder than the Antarctic. 'Where is it?'

The ring rolled in front of him, in shock, he looked up seeing a girl that looked his age stood above him. You just tilted your head down at him, smirking with a glint in your eye.

"You plan on laying there til the sun goes down or what?" you hum, lending a hand out for him to grab. He lifts himself up without your help and looks around the room once more.

"How does being average feel?" you ask, prompting yourself to sit on your chair.

"What did you do?" he says, but without his psychic abilities, there would be no way for you to even understand him further than that glare he was putting out.

"Hm?" you sound out, clearly confused before getting the hint that he still remains in denial of his powers no longer with him. "I can't read your thoughts, nor can you make me understand yours."

"What?" he still doesn't seem to get it.

"Talk." you simply put. "Talk with your mouth, you can't talk to me telepathically anymore." You pioint at your lips as you speak, his eyes bulge out before he finally opens his mouth.

"What did you do to me?" he asks, incriminatingly, even with his feet positioned as if he was ready to throw down a fight.

"Your wish, was it not?" you say, tone stating as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You're no longer a psychic, just a simple, average, and mostly un-unique boy from a small city school."

"Aren't you happy, Saiki?" you say, the smile in your face soon showing in your voice.

to be continued...

Part 2

[roriaa]

When Sun and Moon meet - S2

Zuko x Fem!WaterBender!Reader Enemies to Lovers

As one of the Princesses of the Northern Water tribe, you were blessed with a gift by the moon. However you were permitted to be allowed to use the gift at all costs. From many hidden waterbending usages, the aftermath of the avatar visiting the Northern Tribe had led to your beginning journey, hiding yourself as a water bender as a princess from the Northern water tribe

Warnings: Fighting, arguing

Masterlist

҉ * ‧͙ ⋆ ⁺ ༓ ☾ Chapter 7 - Refreshing Tea

“Have you heard of that tea-house? All of a sudden their tea has been the best in Ba Sing Se!” One of the men said. “Oh then I must try it out! I have been craving tea recently," the woman responded with a laugh. I wasn't the biggest fan of tea outside of the northern water tribe. The only tea that exists was Spirit Oasis Tea which was only used for meditating in the Spirit Oasis to the Moon spirit. Ironic that the water tribe doesn't have a variety of drinks. “Uhm ma’am” I snapped out of me zoning out. I have been doing that more recently. “Sorry…” I said sheepishly as I handed him water tribe money. “You must be hearing about the new tea at the tea-house, I haven't had the time to go there but man I really want to. Sadly I'm constantly stuck at work.” The worker complained. Maybe I should check out the new tea area. “Water tribe money? Wow I haven't seen this currency in a while” The store owner said as I packed up my groceries for today. “Sorry, that's all I'm able to carry” Internally praying he accepts the pay. “Money is money” He shrugs and I let out a sigh of relief. “Have a nice day” he waved off while I smiled in gratefulness, taking Aku by the lead.

  ҉   ☾

Aku and I managed to get there, the sky was dark and the moon was slowly rising up. I really like the night sky because that's the only time I get to see Yue again. I smiled and parked Aku near the entrance. “Stay here buddy” I consoled before going into the tea-house. Once I walked there were still a lot of people, only one table was empty. Is the tea here really that good? Or this is the only tea-house here. I'm here to find out anyway. I was able to sit down at the empty table after making my order, which was just…tea. My mind wanders off thinking my father and Yue would have loved tea, not just specifically from here but in general. “Here’s your tea” a boy said, placing down the cup on the wooden table. I smiled softly “thank you” looking up at him, the realization hitting me. He has a very familiar scar on the left side of his face, it was none other than Zuko himself. Both of our eyes widened from the realization of who each other was. He totally figured out who I was. I immediately got up in fear, preparing to run away however it was prevented by Zuko himself. He grabbed my wrist, softer than I expected. “What are you doing here?” He whispered which made me irritated. “What are you doing here!?” I hissed. I didn't even get my answer due to an interruption made by…Jet?! 

“These two are firebenders!” Jet yelled out, holding two of his swords. How did he figure that out? Did he fight with them? “I saw the old man heating his tea,” Jet continued to yell. “He works at a tea shop,” one of the soldiers defended. He made eye contact with me, I freaked out internally thinking what was he going to do. “He is attacking this girl right here!” He pointed the sword at Zuko and I. We both looked down still seeing Zuko’s hand wrapped around my wrist. Due to this we quickly pulled back, I blushed in embarrassment. “N-No! The tea was too hot so he pulled my hand away before I could get burnt” I explained, my voice going a pitch higher than I wanted it to be. I don't know why I defended Zuko, but he didnt do anything bad to me at that moment. Zuko said absolutely nothing, way to go Zuko. “Drop your swords boy, nice and easy” The soldiers got up but Jet didn't care. “You have to defend yourself, then everyone will know. Go ahead! Show them what you can do.”  Zuko took the sword of one of the soldier’s “You want a show? I'll give you a show!” I grabbed my cub and tea before Zuko moved the table with his leg. I honestly couldn't be bothered with this situation. It doesn't include me and I wasnt that close with either of them to care. I tried taking a sip of the tea made, which was surprisingly still warm and I was even more surprised that it tasted really good. No wonder everyone wants to come here, and father would love this!

I continued drinking until I realized Aku was still outside. I went outside near the door frame to see a crowd of people surrounding Zuko and Jet, who were on opposite sides. “It's true sir, we saw the whole thing, this crazy kid attacked the finest tea maker in this city.” One of the soldiers said, making the old guy blush. Jet's eyes meet mine again making me flinch and look away. “Y/N do you trust me?” He says out loud making all the eyes go on me. My eyes widened and I looked down in embarrassment. What should I say? It's not like me saying anything would make much of a difference, unless if I took my hood down I would be able to use my princess card. “Stop bringing the young lady into this, can't you see she is scared” One of the women said, shielding me. Slowly everyone was defending me. I looked at Jet one last time before turning away. I'm sorry Jet, the person you shouldn't trust is me. He looked at me painfully before getting taken away from the guards. Jet continued spouting out words which slowly went faint and slowly everyone in the circle disappeared. “Some kinda friend you are” I turned around and saw Zuko. “He was not my friend,” I sneered. “Why did you defend me anyways, your the one that actually saw me fire bend”

“I didnt even defend you, I was trying to keep attention away from me” “Did it work?” “What is your problem? Isn't it more beneficial for you than it is for me?” I spat in annoyance. 

“Calm down you two” The old man said, calming the both of us down. “How did both of you recognize me?” I asked worriedly, holding the hood closer to my face. “Your face is quite recognizable once you've seen it, Princess Y/N. Now how about some tea, it will be on the house.” The old man whispered the second part which made me breathily sigh. “I'm good for the day” I glared at both Zuko and the old man. I go outside to take Aku and leave.

“Sorry Aku, i'm just going to go for a little walk okay?” I patted Aku on the head before I left. I was never allowed to go out at sundown before so I wanted to see what it was like. I stretched my arms over my head before seeing a kid and an adult. The adult had the kids' ball, taunting him. Really? How immature are these adults? “Hey, let the kids have some fun” I stated, defending the kid who turned towards me. His eyes were bloodshot red, tears were streaming down his face. “Hah, what are you gonna do? Hit me?” The guy taunted, shaking the ball. “I might just do that” I get water out of my water pouch, slapping them. “Ow” the guy hissed and let go of the ball “you will regret this!” he yelled running away. I grab the ball and gently hand it to the boy. “You need to be careful at night, who knows what could happen” I wiped the tears that were on his cheeks. He sniffed in response, grabbing a ball. Shakily saying “T-Thank you kind lady” He looked down. I smile softly “No problem, now where are your friends?” I looked around to see no one. “They all left once the scary man came” He sniffled. I patted his head sweetly. “Let's get you home little guy” I smiled as he grabbed my hand.

“Say thank you to the kind lady, who knows what we would do without her” The mom patted his back, ushering him to thank me. “Thank you!” He smiled. Both the mother and the son waved in delight. I waved them back and turned around, away from the house. I should probably go home by now, I'm feeling a bit tired. I yawned in my hand, till I heard something. I turned around quickly, searching for anything but there was nothing. Huh…I guess I'm just hearing things. Then I felt a grasp around my wrist. I immediately flick it away, using my water bending to hit them back. “Who's there?” I said out loud. “I told you, you will regret this” the guy from before said, chuckling evilly. The same guy who stole a kids ball. This time he had two additional accomplices. “Please you're so immature” I laughed mockingly which heated him up furthermore. Before he could strike, a figure barged in, striking them with two blades. My eyes widened at the scene and I quickly took out the figure behind me, whacking him down. I turned around to check out the scene again. I got a better look of the figure who held two swords, wore a blue mask and an all black outfit. “Just who…are you?” I raised my brows, moving closer. Just as I was about to get close enough, he ran, taking the three guys with him. That was awfully weird, man I really need to get home now…

<- Back - Next ->

a/n: Sorry for the late post WOOO Managed to post it on time!! So yeah! Thats literally it LMAO have a nice day and take care fo yourself!!

--

Taglist: @luvkvni @katovano @karmaswitch @someonesmember @velvet-spider @sh3sa1dwhat @nerdisthenewcool @meiraloves2dmen @fqnfics101 @iluvme547 @leaderwon @yukihatesreoyo @heart4hees @4l3x1s @kkissaku @corpsebridenightamare @newjellis @fatkish

[peachsayshi]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH ok ok it’s me again! no but same i’m so “Choso on the brain” rn it’s not even healthy (leaving my acc visible cuz id really love to keep talking choso with you if you wanted! i’m not much of an active writer tho so ^^’)

I feel like Choso’s a good boy 🥺, or at least really tries to be. He knows he shouldn’t look. But the sounds of the shower running are almost deafening. The knowledge of your state behind the door, the steam traveling from the bathroom, making your scent all that much harder to ignore. It’s all an assault on his senses. Choso thinks he might explode, his body so tense it might snap from how hard he tried to keep himself sat on the edge of the bed.

(Truly don’t know how this would end up but i’d love to find out heheh)

(hiiii!! it’s nice to see you my fellow thirst buddy 🥹🧡 - also that’s absolutely fine! my ask box is open & I love chatting with you guys about our favorites 😭😭)

Oh, there are so many fun ways to play out this scenario 😏 because you’re right. Choso is a good boy. He’s a sweet boy. He does not want to overstep or come across as rude or untrustworthy. So, he breathes in to calm himself, his lashes fluttering because the scent coming from the bathroom is intoxicating. He slowly unties his hair, allowing it to fall to his shoulder then runs his fingers through the midnight strands in frustration. He undresses, removing his top in a meditative trance in an attempt to stop thinking about you lathering your smooth, soft skin in bubbling suds.

His cock twitches in his pants.

“Fuck,” he whispers; a rare swear leaving his lips. His shuts the door of the closet, his fingers pressing so hard into the wood he’s afraid he might hear it snap.

As desirable as the opportunity is, he refuses to take a peek at what’s going on behind the bathroom. He doesn’t even realize how tense he is until he hears the shower stop running.

Little trickles echo in the bathroom, the sound of your shuffling body drawing out an exhale from an exasperated choso.

What he doesn’t expect is for you to step out in a fluffy white towel cocooning your frame, the material barely covering his deepest of temptations. A sheen of dew makes your skin glow underneath the soft lighting, your anxious but curious eyes locking into his own.

“I forgot the bathrobe”

Your voice sounds so sensual despite the slight hesitation, a hesitation which might easily be mistaken as nerves. Choso clenches his fists by his side, the blood drawing to his thick member. His cheeks give him away instantly, burning a bright shade of red that makes him wish he could sink into the ground.

But he’s a good boy, like you said.

A sweet boy.

He simply clears his throat and opens up the cupboard to retrieve his robe. He hands it politely your way, mumbling “here you go” but hating the way his voice cracked.

He quickly side steps around you to head towards the bathroom, locking the door behind him. His back falls to the frame, and he slips his hand underneath his pants to squeeze his aching bulge while the other is fisted between his teeth as he stifles a moan of relief.

[simpingforstardew]

muse

pairing: sdv elliot x reader

synopsis: elliot is struggling with severe writers block; if only he had a muse...

note: a while ago i talked about having a derivative idea for an elliot x reader fic; here is that fic !! the premise is completely unoriginal, but i'll leave the references at the end of the fic to avoid spoilers hehe

warnings: i don't even know for this one gang, wholesome w/ an ending that could be read as spooky? let's call it a doomed romance !! tw/ relationships that are doomed by the narrative !!

word count: 1.5k

Adronitis

A heart so damaged; tender; sore—

You ever-blooming sycamore,

Through hunger pangs; my deliriousness,

I mourn my mortal catoptric tristesse.

With starving dreams, your warmth I crave—

I worship you, I must embrave,

Indulge me, lay your fear ahind.

Our sanctuary; your piece of mind.

My amorous famine demands more […more what?],

So I feast on your smile […] petrichor.

i am just writing this right niw so it

looks lije i am being pro ductive oh Yoba

andnow leahs comin g over this

is alll shit im jist going to star t overrr

“How’s the writing going, El’?” Leah peers down at Elliot with a smile, wiping the sweat from her brow. “We’ve been at it for a while without a break, you know?”

“Oh, Leah! It’s going splendidly, and yes, it seems we have…” Elliot coughs, avoiding eye contact while tearing the paper from his typewriter. “Why don’t we call it for today then?”

“Without showing me what you’ve done? C’mon,” she whines, “What do you have?”

Elliot and Leah had decided, sometime early last Spring, to meet in Cindersnap forest every Wednesday to work on their current projects. ‘Parallel play for artists,’ Penny once called it when walking Jas back to Marnie’s ranch. For Leah, this weekly rendezvous has (so far) allowed her to complete 2 clay sculptures, 3 wood sculptures, 23 drawings, and 8 paintings; for Elliot, the last few months has allowed him to create…

“Nothing,” Elliot sighs, packing his typewriter’s case with a frown. “I have, somehow, written nothing! I mean, I wanted to craft a Petrarchan sonnet, inspired by Poe’s romantic, yet macabre sensibilities. I ended up with trash I couldn’t even make hendecasyllabic. It’s embarrassingly Shakespearian and—”

“Whoa, whoa, buddy, that’s okay. That’s fine. I’m not sure what any of that means, but…” Leah scrunches her freckled nose, hoping to find the right words to calm Elliot down, “It seems like you’re expecting perfection from a first draft. Maybe we should call it for today, and you could revisit your poem tomorrow?”

“Yes, you are right,” the authors scowl softens; after a moment of meditation—feeling the summer breeze tangle in his hair—he looks towards Leah with a smile. “I will see you next week, Miss Faraday.”

Elliot didn’t return to his typewriter until later that week, deciding instead to bask in the sun’s warmth on the beach. The author sits on the pier with a contented sigh, the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore providing a soothing backdrop to his afternoon reverie.

Even still, despite the Elysium that he has found himself in, Elliot cannot shake his frustrations; his linguistic discouragement plagued his every thought.

“Ahoy there, my boy! Perfect weather for fishing don’t ya reckon?” Willy smiles, closing the front door to the Fish Shop behind him. Elliot

“Ah, hello Mr. Tucker,” Elliot waves as the fisherman sits beside him, attaching a small blue tackle onto an impressively shiny rod, “I suppose it is, although I fear I don’t have my fishing gear with me today.”

“What’d I tell you about calling me that? No need to be so formal, son,” Willy chuckles, casting a line into the vast depths of the saltwater, “Say, aren’t ya usually off in town around this time? Feel like I never see you this early on a Wednesday.”

Elliot still had to adjust to the predictive routine of a small town, and the horrifying consequences of straying from said routine: becoming the topic of mid-afternoon gossip.

“Yes, well, I um—,” Elliot sighs, looking into the deep blue below as if the ocean concealed the antidote to writers block, “I have been, writing with Leah every Wednesday and… actually can I ask for some advice?”

“O’ Course ya can, my boy.” Willy nods.

“I have been… struggling lately,” The taller man slumps as he runs a hand through his auburn hair, his voice heavy with uncertainty, “I feel as if I have lost my spark, my… capacité artistique. I cannot, for the life of me, write anything of quality! I just… I feel broken, Mr. William.”

Willy takes a moment to think, slowly breathing in the salty air, “Hmm, I see your problem, lad— but it’s important to know yer not broken. Aye, nothin’ about ya is broken.”

A fish tugs at Willy’s fishing line: desperately; hopelessly.

“It’s like if yer pal Willy couldn’t fish anymore… I’d sooner swallow a sea urchin than lose my ability to do what I love,” Willy pulls the rod towards him, putting up a fight with whatever poor creature is on the other end of the line, “but sometimes it’s tricky doing what ya love 24/7, son! You got to remind yerself to take breaks, and…”

The creature is hurled out of the ocean, flapping helplessly as the fisherman releases it from his tackle. Willy holds the freshly-caught octopus up to Elliot.

“Remind yerself why ya love it!” Willy chuckles, before mumbling to himself about throwing his newest catch in a tank lest he ‘gets inked’.

As Elliot sits in contemplative silence, the ocean offering solace: the rushing winds, the distant cry of seagulls, even the smell of salty air. Over the last year and a half, he has grown to love it all.

As he rises to his feet, Elliot considers his friends’ advice. He certainly didn’t want to remain in this slump forever; so he needs to find a reminder of why he loves writing; a source of reinvigorating inspiration.

He needs to find a muse.

A muse in a village with a population of 27.

‘Well,’ Elliot thinks, slamming his cabin’s door shut behind him as he slides onto his desk chair. He sets up his Olympia SM 9 for the second time today. ‘If I can’t find my muse in life, I will simply create my muse in art.’

For a moment, the black page loaded into the typewriter stares back at Elliot, mockingly. Then, as suddenly as the crash of thunder that bellows from above, the author began to write.

Elliot bursts into the Fish Shop, his manuscript clutched tightly in hand, a triumphant gleam in his eye. “Willy, my friend, you’re incredible!” he cheered, his excitement palpable. “I truly could not have done this without your support.”

Willy grins, offering a sincere thumbs-up. “Glad to hear it, lad! So what was your reminder, eh? What got you back on track?”

Elliot coughs, a flush creeping up his freckled cheeks. “Well, you see… I made it up.”

Willy arches an eyebrow, bemused,“Ya made up yer reminder for why you love writing? Now, son…”

“No, no,” Elliot hastens to explain, “My love for writing is genuine. But my muse, my darling muse, is not.”

“I’m not following, my boy.”

“I have spent all night crafting the narrative of a completely fabricated person, it’s all here,” Elliot elaborates, “They’re genuinely kind, talented and hard-working, despite never being appreciated. They have the most charming mole on their neck, and they’re delightfully witty! After their grandfather passed away, they—”

“Son,” Willy interrupted gently, his tone tinged with amusement, “Yer a peculiar one, ya know that? How is this going to help with yer writing?”

“It does sound ridiculous, but dedicating my sonnets to this idealised character… thinking of them as I work on my novel… It has been phenomenally motivating!” Elliot laughs, re-reading through the pages before stopping in his tracks, “Oh, I do apologise old friend, I barged into your shop like a man possessed.”

It had been months since Elliot had felt such a fervent desire to write; his unbridled excitement was contagious; a smirk spreads across Willy’s face, crinkling the corners of his dark green eyes.

“If it were anyone else instead of you, I’d be furious, lad,” Willy chuckles, reaching into his mini fridge, “‘Ere, I whipped up too many crab cakes last night, and I know they’re yer favourite— consider it a gift.”

As Elliot arrives back at his cabin, writing snacks in tow, the muffled playing of his piano greets him. He chuckles softly, before preparing to shoo Harvey out of his home so he could resume his day of writing.

“Sincerest apologies, I—,”

“Oh! Honey, you’re back so soon.” Turning away from the piano, your eyes catch Elliot’s with a familiar warmth. You admire the way your boyfriend’s hair always forms delicate waves when exposed to the sea spray.

The author was struck speechless, his heart pounding as he stared at you with more focus than you have ever been subject to.

It couldn’t be real. And yet there you are. You. The muse Elliot had crafted— who's entire life was written mere hours prior on the pages that were now strewn about the floor— was standing before him in flesh and blood.

Every flawless detail exactly as he had imagined.

“Elliot, darling, are you okay?” Your smile becomes wry; nervous as to why your lover was acting so peculiar, his pale skin was now a ghastly white. “Would you like me to pour some wine? We can—”

Before your suggestion was made, Elliot was gone; the door slamming shut behind him.

note #2: okay if you didn't catch it, my inspiration was the 1960 episode of the Twilight Zone: 'A World of His Own', and (more relevantly) the 2012 psychological horror romcom Ruby Sparks !! if you check out either that episode or movie, pleasepleaseplease lmk what you think <33

[dairy-farmer]

Ooooh~ Had a THOUGHT(TM)~☆! Accidental Meta Powers Groping Au! :D

Consider all the Weird Shit(tm) Batman gets exposed to during the course of your standard Superheroic Adventure. Goo and Rays and Beams, curses and countercurses. Gods. Alien nonsense. It's A LOT for the body to handle!

He goes away to help the JLA on some Alien Distress call. Gets VERY fucked up. Big ouch. Might not make it. But he saved the building full of kids he was trying to evacuate and stopped the alien's planet from being blown up.

So? They make an exception for him. Since he's their HERO.

They use their Super Advanced Alien Healing Pod on him. Don't worry buddy! We scanned the OTHER human with you and know what a healthy human looks like! We can fix you!

Problem? That other human? A dumbass. So worried about Batman... they forgot that THEY were Meta and HE was NOT.

And Batman is a little too unconscious and full of holes that shouldn't be there to remind anybody. #OhNo.

Bruce wakes up on the flight back. Feels a decade younger. Which he SHOULD because the Meta Dumbass is in his TWENTIES. You dense, dense mother-fucker! Bruce has VISABLY lost a DECADE. He wants to hit him.

A chair flies from next to him, directly at the guys head.

What.

He's telekinetic. WHY does he have telekinesis? Meta Dumbass starts sweating. It's... a long flight.

Worse? Green Lantern stayed behind to help organize relief efforts. It'll be AT LEAST a year before he's back and can get Bruce back to normal. He knows, because he strong arms a deep space video call.

They kinda used their LAST function pod on him. Great honor and all that. Are horrified they fucked up. But can't fix anything until the planet is less... flattened.

Bruce breathes. Remembers his meditation training. This is Fine(tm). He understands. Take your time, not your fault. He's just gonna have to get this under control until it can be fixed.

Problem is? It responds to his thoughts. Usually before he's aware he's having them. Thirsty? Here's a drink. Vaguely tired? Chairs. Note to self? Why not ACTUAL notes? Pen and paper!

He gets home EXHAUSTED. Explains what happened to Alfred. Not so much Tim, but Tim overhears, since he's eating dinner in the room. Weird things happen and things moving? Don't be alarmed. Just Bruce. Got it.

Tim feels someone ruffle his hair. Hug him.

Bruce is across the room and already turning away. Ah. Better not mention it. He's already jumpy around affection. Barely getting better. If he thought even THINKING about stuff like that was bad? Because it would "betray him"? Yeeeeah, hard pass, Tim decides. Besides. Hugs are nice, even if Bruce doesn't know he's giving them.

But of course~ Bruce is obsessive. His thoughts fixate and spiral. Tim gets used too, very quickly, the panicked pat-downs by hands that arent there, looking for injury. The lingering holds on the back of his uniform, ready to drag him back from danger or jumps Bruce doesn't think he can make. The hair ruffles. The almost needy, full body hugs.

Touches no one can see. That Bruce doesn't realize just WANTING, makes happen.

Tim has a great Party Mask. Has long been able to ignore choking suits and pinching shoes, the exhaustion, all the bruises from chasing his idols, and keep his face serene. This is no different.

Then the classic Go Wrong. Our beloved Ivy.

No place for Robins. So Bruce goes alone. Saves the day. But is hit, as usual. An unfortunate reality of her escapes. Has already hit himself with the counter-agent... but... he suspects this might be a new strain. It wasn't as effective as it should be.

He stumbles out of the car and into the emergency wash. Tim is there to help him get upstairs, as he all but falls out. It's a mistake.

There are hands and tounges, licking and groping and sucking EVERYWHERE, the second Bruce locks eyes on him. Digging into and worshipping places NO ONE has ever touched before, so hard his legs lock up and he freezes. He can barely move. Doesn't know what expression he's making but knows he's choking on the noises he's trying hard NOT to make.

They collapse half way to the stairs. Bruce pulling him into a vice tight hug, panting against a shoulder, as he trembles and refuses to give into what he so badly wants to DO to him. Not realizing he already IS. That fingers and tounges are working his holes open. Plunging in and in and IN. Finding things and grinding.

Tim can only shake and try to suck in air. Try not to let the noises out. Because he's afraid if he gives in, he won't be able to STOP. Everything's gotten so wet. He can't move. It's too much, all at once. Feels good but is scary. But Bruce is here. And he's trying NOT too. Not his fault. And, and-!

Alfred saves them. Is able to haul Bruce up and off to his room. Give Tim an anti-agent.

Because he got "exposed" too. Helping Bruce.

He doesn't argue, even if the shot makes him feel sick for a while. But, the thing IS? Bruce has become... AWARE of him, now. Because now the hands massage and stroke. He feels them palm his chest or butt, just to tease or squeeze a bit.

And after patrol? When they go to BED? Tim has to read Bruce's mood. Decide if he wants to stay at the Manor or his house. Because? When Bruce his stressed? He... relieves it. Perfectly normal, of course. But his THOUGHTS? Tim knows they're of him.

Because he feels them.

And he... he doesn't know if he's READY. It was so, so MUCH.

But of course, Bruce is better at hiding things then even HE is. And eventually he slips up. Is staying over. When one moment he is getting comfy, the next? Hands are pining him to the bed. His own pajamas used to muffle him, pushed up and out of the way. So mouths that aren't there can tease and abuse his nipples. Lick his skin like they want to devour him.

Go lower and lower. Pajama pants gone and hands holding him wide. For the world and no one at all to see. Bruce's clashing thoughts and desires meaning Tim gets both. Fingers teasing him AND mouth eating him out. Squeeling and panting, thrashing but unable to escape. His orgasms secondary to the fantasy happening a few rooms over.

Having a tounge fuck him even as fingers do. His chest being teased. Being able to HEAR the wet shlick noises and see his skin react. Feeling his hole being held open for something BIGGER. His ass being teased. Bruce unable to decide but turned on none the less.

Filled up, his first time on a cock that isn't even THERE. And, oh. Tim feels good and terrible and so FULL. Then it's moving and it's just good and full. Pounding all the good parts. Punching little noises out of him. And he wish it wasn't the powers. That Bruce was HERE doing it. But it's GOOD. And he ends up gushing wet and boneless.

LOVES Bruce's Stress Relief nights. Would go over and HELP if he could.

But Bruce is still affection shy. And Tim is still working on that. But hey.

Now Tim has a goal.

(And is DEVASTATED when they fix Bruce's "Gene Spliced Problem" even if he won't say why.)

-🐼🐼🐼

bruce using his surprise psychic powers to molest tim 🤭

[waitmyturtles]

Pain, Suffering, and Narratives in Some Asian Dramas/BLs (An Utterly Un-Scholastic, Highly Personal Big Meta)

I’ve been meditating on the topic of pain and suffering in dramas over the last few weeks, as conversations across Tumblr have been taking place regarding the success (or not) of the Our Skyy 2 x Bad Buddy x A Tale of Thousand Stars episodes. I can’t help but connect these thoughts to some of the fabulous older shows I’ve been watching in my Old GMMTV Challenge watchlist project, where I’m catching up on older Thai BLs in order to better understand the fabulous works that we’re seeing airing now. This Big Meta in part comes out of my having just watched He’s Coming To Me and Dark Blue Kiss, but I was also very deeply inspired by a Japanese BL that many of us here have fallen in love with, Our Dining Table, that features a poignant moment recognizing that feeling pain is a necessity in feeling love for another person -- that accepting pain and suffering is a part of the life we decide to live, from an Asian cultural perspective.

I’m using some big generalities here, so let me explain where I’m coming from. During certain large portions of my life, I’ve explored either becoming a Buddhist, or at least practiced Buddhism, particularly Zen Buddhism. While the world of Western capitalism has unfortunately taken up the majority of my current time/life, I do still have a desire to learn more about the history of Buddhism and try to incorporate some kind of practice in my daily life.

The reason why I offer that caveat is that a core of teaching in at least the spaces of Buddhism that I’ve been privy to, is the recognition of pain and suffering in one’s life. Suffering is a core tenet of Buddhism, one of the Four Noble Truths, and one that a human being does good deeds or makes merit in light of (as we see quite often in our beloved BLs) in order to receive “good” karma for a happy existence in this life or the next. (Again, mad generalizations here, but you get the point.)

I’ve been thinking about this because I often wonder if us Western viewers (I count myself as one, as an Asian-American) are too demanding for linear, clean, direct, and/or happy communication, narratives, and endings, particularly in the realm of Asian BLs, in regards to either romantic love and/or love from one’s nuclear parents/family. I think about this very much in the context of the Asian BL genre, where queerness -- as accepted, OR NOT, in Asian societies, friend groups, and families -- may indicate an existence that is not necessarily a happy one. 

There are other issues by way of demands from fans that often determine the outcome of a BL script, such as shipper demands for overtly sexual content. What I’m proposing here is that, in my opinion, some of the best dramas/BLs from Asia are rooted in a reflection and acceptance of the tenets of suffering as a natural part of Asian life and, subsequently, Asian art. I further propose that because of that acceptance of suffering, that we — Western viewers — are often left potentially feeling unsatisfied or unfulfilled by a particular ending of a drama. I posit that the linear/binary/clear outcomes that Western audiences so often demand are limiting in comparison to the non-binary, non-linear journeys and conclusions of art that Asian filmmakers can reach in their work, vis à vis à general cultural understanding that pain and suffering are a part of daily life.

Before I give a drama example, let me use one from real life, that is so very often reflected in art: filial piety. I wrote about filial piety quite a bit in my reviews of Double Savage, a non-BL from Thailand that focused on the plight of a discarded son who was judged by his father as a jinx.

When I try to explain to Western friends that Asian parental love is very often conditional (I myself have experienced it, and my experiences mirror those of my friends), I experience a lot of denial.

“There is NO WAY your parents don’t love you.”  “There is NO WAY your parents will ever give up on you. Even if they treat you badly, they love you.”  “In the West, we ALWAYS end up loving our children. That’s what society demands of PARENTS. We’re CONDITIONED to be like that.”

A major cultural competency issue that Western therapists face with Asian clients is when Western therapists say to Asian clients who are having family issues, “why don’t you just talk to your parents about what you’re feeling?” Talking to Asian parents about a child’s feelings, in MANY instances, is not realistic. The language of that kind of emotion may not even exist. AND, there are unspoken social boundaries AGAINST children having those conversations with their parents in the first place. To have those conversations would very well ROCK the foundation on which Asian families are structured.

My parents may love me — the dad in Double Savage mayyyy have loved his son? — but an Asian parent like that, so rooted in their JUDGEMENT AGAINST an offspring, will often not budge. Time and time again, my Asian friends and family will talk about how they felt unloved as a child -- especially if their skin was darker, if their siblings were more successful in school, if they were a middle child, etc. VERY often, our Asian parents don’t know what us children do by way of work -- my parents don’t know anything about my work, for instance.

The Western perspective and social demands for a STYLE of loving one’s children in a very particular, involved, and empathic way -- those cultural expectations don’t necessarily exist in Asia. So we see parents like, say, Non’s father in Dark Blue Kiss; or Korn’s father in Double Savage; or ESPECIALLY Uea’s mom in Bed Friend, a fantastic example of an Asian parent who takes PERSONALLY every aspect of her son’s social and sexual “differences,” blames him for those differences, and accuses him of ruining HER life vis à vis how he was born to be the way that he is.

And yet, at least for Korn and Uea -- we see those children, for the majority of their dramas, continuing to devote themselves to their parents. Because filial piety -- the Asian cultural and social demand for RESPECTING one’s parents above all else -- is existent and EXPECTED of almost EVERY living Asian, no matter where you live on the continent or your various diasporas. 

The equation is: even if you suffer at the hands of your parents, even if you don’t receive unconditional love and empathy from your parents, you must sacrifice in order to respect and serve your parents. You can imagine how much therapy even one individual would need to process that -- if that individual even ALLOWED themselves to think about what was happening, which oftentimes doesn’t even happen. 

I’m not saying that filial piety EQUALS suffering. What I’m saying is that the practice of filial piety will almost always ASSUME a level of suffering that one must undertake to participate in the practice of honoring one’s parents.

Where I felt this *assumption* most strongly and recently was in my viewings of three Aof Noppharnach shows: He’s Coming To Me, Dark Blue Kiss, and Our Skyy 2 x Bad Buddy x A Tale of Thousand Stars, but I think Double Savage and Bed Friend also fall into this category as well. Very quickly:

1) HCTM was rooted in storytelling around the practice of Thai-Chinese Buddhism. Thun’s suffering was apparent: he was fatherless, he was gay, and could see ghosts. AS WELL, Med’s suffering was that he didn’t know how he had died, and why he was being held in purgatory before moving on to his next life. 

2) Dark Blue Kiss was rooted in internalized homophobia. My big review of DBK is coming next week, but quickly, between the two main couples (PeteKao and SunMork), you had internalized homophobia playing various roles of emotional INTERPLAY, that AFFECTED the external emotional demonstrations of the character -- particularly in Pete, who was viscerally working on becoming a calmer person, but was triggered by Kao’s internalized homophobia to not be open about their relationship, and Pete’s jealousy subsumed him. DBK is the only show I’m mentioning here that has a clean happy ending for all couples involved, but more on that in a second.

3) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS, on the Pat and Pran side, was rooted in a clear but indirect conflict between Pat and Pran about openness and independence. If Pat and Pran had been open about their relationship (à la Pete and Kao) -- would Pat have needed to sound tough to his engineering friends that Pran *depended* on Pat to close loops? And on the Tian and Phupha side -- there is plenty we don’t know about Phupha’s past to make judgements, but I think it’s safe to say that he grew up in such a rural environment in Thailand as to make him assume that coming out and meeting his partner’s parents was an non-reality for the majority of their relationship, until the end of the OS2 series. The journey to get to the point of the ring was a tough one, particularly for Tian, who wanted more openness.

4) Both Double Savage and Bed Friend seem to end happily, especially for Uea and King in Bed Friend. But: Uea loses his parent. Yes -- he NEEDED to lose his mom, because of how toxic she was. But from an Asian family structure perspective -- he only has his sister by the end of that traumatic journey, which is not necessarily an IDEAL or complete ending. The bonds among Korn, Win, and Rung are permanently affected by the behavior of Korn and Win’s dad in Double Savage. The ending is a copacetic one -- they have survived, and will learn to survive together, after all the trauma they have lived through. But it’s not necessarily a HAPPY one. Both of these endings do not necessarily reflect the holistic ideal of the Asian family structure.

I emphasize all of this because, as I said earlier: I think a Western demand to CLOSE LOOPS in Asian dramas is unrealistic.

In Asian life (big generalization, but let me roll with it): you are angry at your parents, and you process it internally, very often without any help, and after a couple days, things go back to the way they were. The children do not demand change from their parents.

In OS2 x BBS, what I DIDN’T SEE -- and, from this framework, what I argue that I DIDN’T *NEED* TO SEE -- were any clarifying conversations between Pat and Pran about how either of them would CHANGE for their relationship. The biggest confession we got was Pat telling Pran, “without you, there is no me,” and Pran quietly agreeing (thank you to @lurkingteapot and @dimplesandfierceeyes for the incredible post on the improved translation of “I can’t live without you”).

But throughout the episodes, we saw their existence together, and arguably, their conditions -- how each of them has organized himself to comport to the other’s immediate needs. How Pran’s larger burden of keeping in the closet to keep his nuclear family structure stable kept them from being totally out, and how Pran designed fibs to be able to have at least one public demonstration of love between him and Pat on stage. They know they cannot solve intergenerational trauma in the span of a series. They’re still closeted two years later. And throughout all of this: how Pat digests Pran’s needs, and keeps his (Pat’s) own needs for openness at bay. We know he feels pain, too, when he makes his confession to Pran in Pha Pun Dao. We know he’s watching Pran as Pran hesitates to put on the bruise cream.

I feel that Pat’s acceptance of this existence is both heart-rending and utterly beautiful from the perspective of seeing Aof’s work as *Asian* art. I feel like, as an Asian, that I KNOW, that PAT KNOWS, what Pran has to lose. Pran has A LOT to lose. And so, Pat -- instead of demanding for outing and openness -- will hold what Pran needs him to hold. He knows when Pran is grumpy, and needs to be grumpy. And Pran’s got a lot to deal with. He’s got so much that he’ll need to go to Singapore, likely to get separation from his mother -- and that will result in him and Pat being separated (and I’m intentionally not analyzing Pran’s need for space from Pat here, but I think we can safely argue that, too, as Pat’s helpful attitude may smother Pran at times) (and there’s also the issue of the nuclear pain that Pat himself may feel at losing trust in his father for his father’s past foibles). 

After the OS2 episodes, I didn’t need to know THE REASONS, the stark REASONING for why Pran needed to go to Singapore -- because, indirectly, it was already very clear to me that these young men were already holding tremendous burdens. Singapore, for Pran AND for Pat, could have ultimately been a motivator for growth. But I don’t need to know this. All I know is that they continue to have various levels of pain that they will be dealing with in their nascent adult lives.

While Dark Blue Kiss ULTIMATELY had happy endings -- how it got there was PAINFUL. Kao was ROOTED in fear that he would upend his family’s stability, while being the breadwinner. He was held back by extremely traditional role expectations of an older son. And he had no communication with his mother about straying from those roles. Pete’s dad served as the first -- and, I’d argue, maybe BL’s first -- paradigm-breaker as a parent, being SO open about his son’s queerness as to encourage healthy sex practices. But what I argue in this thesis is that up until the very last, bitter end, Kao was relegated to ASSUME that he would live in pain. His expectation was that Pete would ride with him. Pete couldn’t take it anymore and bubbled over. And Kao was forced to make a decision, for Pete’s sake, literally, to BE open, and to save the relationship. That shit ain’t easy.

Lots of folks who have read my posts on this site know that I appreciate a good Asian drama rooted in family and/or community trauma, like 10 Years Ticket. It’s the way in which Asian filmmakers depict this trauma that speaks very much to my life, my culture, and my viewpoint on what’s realistic in this world, and how that reality can be depicted in art. What I’ve found in watching Asian dramas is... I don’t always want clean endings. I don’t always want loops closed.

Sometimes, Asian kids can’t talk to their parents (Pran, Kao). If you grow up like that, you don’t immediately learn the language of intimacy for your family members, your friends, your lovers (Pran’s struggles after BBS/ep5, Thun’s coming out and not knowing the words for it). It might be EASY, or culturally UNQUESTIONABLE, to not argue with your parents about the ways in which they engage with their children (Korn, Win, Pran). Sometimes, to make a break in order to survive, you need to leave a toxic family member behind, which is NOT an ideal scenario (Uea). 

Sometimes, you lose the love of your life (Ueda-san in Our Dining Table). Sometimes, you fall in love with someone — and you find that you can’t *exist* without them (Pat to Pran). And you have to live with the pain. I might even posit that the risk of that pain makes the love you have, either for the person living or the person passed, that much more meaningful to you.

I watch Asian dramas because I don’t feel like Asian filmmakers are subject to the Western demand to clean up all emotionally questionable loose ends. This is not When Harry Met Sally. Harry and Sally should have only remained friends, and not gotten married -- even Nora Ephron and Rob Reiner knew that -- but they also realized that Western audiences would not accept such an ending.

“The script initially ended with Harry and Sally remaining friends and not pursuing a romantic relationship because she felt that was "the true ending", as did Reiner. Eventually, Ephron and Reiner realized that it would be a more appropriate ending for them to marry, though they admit that this was generally not a realistic outcome.”

If I don’t get clean clarity in Asian dramas, I’m okay with it. My mind switches to the pain POV, that relativity mindset. Everyday life in Asian cultures can handle the weight of the painful and sufferable unknown. And that’s why I love these shows. 

And, OF COURSE, not ALL Asian dramas are like this! Cherry Magic ended wonderfully. Old Fashion Cupcake ended beautifully. KinnPorsche ended sexily, if not a little confusedly (are they related? kinda? or not? whatever?). Minato’s Laundromat ended happily -- although we’ll see their relationship pain points in the upcoming second season. And we see relationship pain points in the ongoing drama of Shiro and Kenji’s relationship in What Did You Eat Yesterday -- all while they share their happy nightly meals together at their kitchen table.

Life is complicated. I posit that Asian dramas, for my taste, satisfaction, and cultural relativity, do a much better job at depicting that complicatedness than the West can ever do, and that’s why I stand so often on my soapbox to encourage Western viewers to understand these Asian cultural touchpoints more -- to learn about how we’ve accepted pain and suffering as an automatic given in our Asian lives, from our cultures, our spiritual practices, and from living amongst each other.

[creature-wizard]

A fun way to handle smug asshole proselytizers is to answer their questions with whatever random yet cool thing you can think of. Like,

"How do you think the universe was formed?" "I believe the Great One sent his servant, the Cosmic Weaver, to weave the fabric of reality into being."

"What do you believe the purpose of life is?" "I think we're here to invent the Ultimate Rock Song to please the Great One's ears."

"What do you think happens to us after we die?" "I think our souls are taken to the Heavenly Spa where servants of the Great One give us TLC to cleanse us of the impurities and damage we've accumulated in this life."

"How do you know your beliefs are true?" "I sat down and meditated upon God and the meaning of life, and I saw an angel descend from Heaven, and they revealed this to me; and I felt within my heart that it was absolute truth."

And so on and so forth.

Theses people's technique hinges on you being like, "ummm idk" so they can be like "AHA the Bible has the answer and the answer is JESUS!", so just blasting them with whatever fun answer you can come up with off the cuff just throws 'em off their game. >:3

If they start talking about the Big Bang or evolution and claim it's impossible, just agree with them and then give them your own explanation.

If they start bringing up Biblical prophecies, just point out that early Christians twisted and misinterpreted the old texts to make it seem as if Jesus was fulfilling them when he wasn't, and if you actually bother to read properly you can see this for yourself. This one is actually true, and you can just keep throwing it at them as long as they try to appeal to prophecy.

Also, if they try the whole "okay then how do you explain (insert event in gospel texts here)" line, you can be like, "oh buddy weird stuff happens all the time, you should hear what happened to my friend Josh the other day, he met this guy who descended from the sky and gave him this crystal inscribed with a message from the Great One." If express doubt, you can just come back with "Are you calling my best friend Josh a liar??? I've known him since kindergarten!"

Whether these people actually realize it or not, they aren't here to persuade you with Facts and Logic; they're here to try and win an Awesomeness Contest against you. And it's very easy to out-awesome them by throwing whatever fun and cool stuff you can think of at them.

[ms-m-astrologer]

Transiting Vesta enters Libra

Sunday, October 27, 2024 - Sunday, January 2, 2025

Caveat: this may not have much of an impact on you personally unless Vesta is prominent in your chart (closely in aspect to the Sun, the Moon, &/or an angle).

None of the transits through Libra, in 2024, have been easy - and this transit of Vesta is no exception. What is interesting (to me) about it, is that almost two weeks after Vesta enters the next sign, Scorpio, she will also enter her Retrograde Zone. This difficult Libra transit will help set the stage for the deeper Scorpio work ahead of us.

Looking at Vesta’s areas:

Personal integration - we can get a little more concerned about what we are not, rather than what we are. We depend too much on other people for what we ought to be able to do for ourselves.

Devotional/Religious activities - we’re looking for balance here, maybe balancing out our “worldly” lives; or we’re just paying lip service to our spiritual life, opting for style over substance.

Scholastic interests - there are a couple of really supportive times for our intellectual lives! We may be more interested in having a “study buddy” instead of solitary work.

One’s work or path of service - the middle path. We can get weirdly competitive about it. (“I meditated today for four hours!” “Well, I meditated for five!”) We may also be indecisive.

Allow a few days on either side of these dates:

Tuesday, November 5, 2024:

Vesta/Libra opposite North Node/Aries, conjunct South Node/Libra, 4°28’

Vesta/Libra sextile Mercury/Sagittarius, 4°39’

This is one of the good study times - we get an exciting new idea and are eager to pursue it. Might be within a field we’re already a bit familiar with.

Friday, November 15 - Sunday, November 17:

Vesta/Libra (9°16’) semi-square Sun/Scorpio (24°16’)

Vesta/Libra (10°11’) sesquiquad Uranus Rx/Taurus (25°11’)

This is during the Full Moon and particularly affects Vesta’s “personal integration” piece. Some unpleasant surprise makes us unsure of ourselves.

Thursday, November 21 - Saturday, November 23:

Vesta/Libra square Venus/Capricorn, 11°49’

Vesta/Libra inconjunct Saturn/Pisces, 12°45’

This is like being accused of being up in an “ivory tower” - Wikipedia defines it as “a state of privileged seclusion from the practicalities of real life.” Try not to be!

Tuesday, December 3:

Vesta/Libra trine Jupiter Rx/Gemini, 16°55’

Vesta/Libra sextile Mercury Rx/Sagittarius, 17°20’

Another good study day. Finals coming up? With both Mercury and Jupiter retrograde, there’s potential for some very profound insights.

Saturday, December 7 - Vesta/Libra opposite Chiron Rx/Aries, 19°13’. Ouch. Vesta’s “personal integration” takes a hit, or maybe we’ve let our egos/intellectual arrogance have too much control.

Thursday, December 12 - Vesta/Libra sextile Sun/Sagittarius, 21°11’. Between Vesta oppositions (to Chiron on the 7th, to Eris on the 20th), we can explore different approaches to our problems.

Thursday, December 19 - Friday, December 20:

Vesta/Libra inconjunct Uranus Rx/Taurus, 23°59’

Vesta/Libra opposite Eris Rx/Aries, 24°26’

A sort of echo of the Vesta-Sun-Uranus interaction back on November 15-17. If we haven’t made necessary adjustments, we could be in trouble.

Thursday, December 26 - Vesta/Libra inconjunct Neptune/Pisces, 27°14’. This is such a shitty aspect for the day after Christmas! Delusions and confusions; listen hard to other people, read the fine print, and try not to make any important decisions.

Wednesday, January 1, 2025 - Vesta/Libra (29°36’) sesquiquad Saturn/Pisces (14°36’). And this is a shitty way to start a calendar year! We can’t decide on a good New Year’s resolution - or, we think we’re such a lost cause, we just give up trying - or, we make too many resolutions, biting off way more than we can chew.

———————————

Venmo Mary_Brack

PayPal MaryVBrack

Thank you!

[david3096]

It's almost Día de muertos once again. I can't believe I wrote this two years ago!

This has a lot of things, romance, comedy and sad moments of life. So, if you are looking for a buddie fic like that this is the one for you!

A little preview...

“It's not the same thing" Eddie repeats, and this time he can hear his voice getting louder and angrier. He starts to feel stares from the people around him, he wishes Buck had chosen a more private place to annoy him and not a restaurant.

“Why?" asks Bobby, sounding genuinely interested.

“I don't know, día de muertos is something kind of... spiritual" he tries to explain.

“I didn't think you were the spiritual type” says Chim.

“I’m not.”

“See" Buck points out "Total hypocrisy.” Buck grins directly at him. “It's like that time you made fun of me because I think a ghost called 911.”

“Buck, shut up" Bobby says, but his best friend just smiles wider.

“Seriously, Evan" Buck frowns for two seconds "Is it so bad that I can believe in this?" Buck seems to meditate it over because he stops looking at him, the smile is wiped off his face, and he remains silent.

“I don't know if my question is offensive, but" Hen pauses, looking at everyone at the table "When did you start believing?" Eddie laughs lightly, they don't really understand what this tradition means, although if he's honest, sometimes he doesn't understand it perfectly either “or does this work?" Hen adds.

“Well, this isn't like Santa Claus" he says "I've believed in this for as long as I can remember. It's something I've always done and want to keep doing" he pauses, looking at Buck "I like to remember the people who are gone. The good parts, the bad parts. Believing that their spirit, energy or whatever it is can still be in the world.”

“And is actually necessary to make an altar?" asks Chim and Hen taps him on the shoulder.

“Probably not” Eddie laughs. “But my Abuela used to say that these days is when people in the other world are allowed to cross over, to return to the world of the living.”

“Basically the movie Coco" Chim says.

“No, and you shouldn't let yourself be guided by what día de muertos is by that movie," Eddie notices that slight anger in his voice again.

“What?!" All four say at the same time, truly surprised.

“I'm just saying what I think" Eddie feels a little uncomfortable for some reason, "I'm not saying it's a bad movie, but it's not quite what I think día de muertos is.”

“But the movie is great!" defends Hen. "I couldn't stop crying at the end!”

“And don't pretend that you didn't cry when we went to see the movie with Chris" Buck speaks again, his face has a gesture he can´t decipher, but he can feel that the Buck he is a little more in love with is back. He´s also in love with the one that annoys him, but the sweet one is better.

“I know, I know" he says, "Maybe I am a bit of a hypocrite" Buck gives him a sad half-smile.

“You are not.”

“No, no, stop there" says Hen "Let's not turn this conversation into a Buck and Eddie are in love moment" they both open their eyes wide and look at each other silently "I said what I said" Bobby and Chim have a grin on their faces "I want to know what's wrong with Coco in your opinion, Eddie.”

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here bestie and these last few days have been a ride, to say the least. I am not feeling very normal about anything going on myself, how are you?? We're not even on the same day as the episode and everything already feels unhinged. Masks?? Confessions?? BUDDIE HOLDING HANDS (in front of the tree)??!! I have never hoped so much (a mistake I know) that we are living in the best timeline and I suppose in less then 24 hours we'll see how insane it is to do that.

Anyway my "saving it for an episode emergency" wine is toast after today (todo list: replace that before tomorrow's episode) and thought I'd share my dumb spec for this episode. So not dumb is BT bones are obviously happening (like seriously, windex couldn't make it any clearer at this point) and I do think the Eddie-takes-care-of-Buck while treeman-cowers-in-fear is going to play a role in that, but I can't help thinking of the choice to have the mummy in Eddie's old bachelor party clothes. Like its kinda weird to have that specific outfit back in "masks" of all episodes, but maybe its not so much for the symbolism but just to remind the audience that that was a whole thing. Because what if one of our boys, via meditation or mummy curse or whatever (I'm not picky) actually remembers what happened that night?? And it, er, it wasn't exactly strictly platonic?? So one of them has to confront exactly what that means and we end up with (at least one) third party confession. I'd like to see it. But either way I feel like for sure next episode will end with Buck at least realizing he's been putting on a mask with his current relationship, and its covering up who he really wants, and I for one can't wait to see it. Less than 24 hours my friend, let's hope they don't do anything else insane before then 🥂.

Good morning friend! I'm glad you sent this last night because with the banger d20 ep last night and the pettiness and excitement about tonight, I just KNOW I'm gonna be put in post limit jail SO early, so I'm getting this out now while I can!

What a month these last couple days have been! I am feeling unhinged and damn is it hard not to get my hopes up! 🤪

I am *desperately* hoping that we see a bachelor party flashback in the next couple episodes! I would be happy with either Buck or Eddie, but not Buck if he's still clinging on to Tree #3, because I don't want the guilt spiral or him breaking it off because he "did something wrong". He really does for once need to recognize (on screen for the audience to share with him) that he is not being treated well in a relationship and leave. (Justice for the BT 1.0 breakup we SHOULD have had in 5a but FOX sucks.)

And now we have a scene (that to be fair I haven't watched because I like going in if not blind, at least not having watched big chucks of the episode yet) that once again shows Eddie knowing and loving Buck to his weird, superstitious core, and his BF being the odd man out, once again putting others down as a way to get laughs at work, and not knowing who is married to Buck's dad, Bobby, months after saving her and her and being together with Buck all this time. No wonder Oliver has been so excited! That man is a menace and petty bench and I love him SO MUCH.

Cheers my friend, I'm probably not going to have to drive home since my car is in the shop so I plan to have a drink and enjoy the chaos! Fun Halloween episode after 84 years, let's fucking gooooo! (Because the Denny stuff is not real, I do not SEE, I do not PERCEIVE.)

[studywithtarun]

Out of the world October challenge

Hi guys, welcome back to my studyblr blog ( I am so sorry for not positing for a while because I had a review test in coaching it was like 3 hours test in school 6 hours in coaching I felt like preparing for gaokaou *ignore spelling *)

Here is a begging of a new month means new possibilities hence let’s create a challenge as usual 😅,

Here is the challenge :

1. Like this post , repost and comment ( do any two of it ) this is like the participation sheet ! ( mind you this time I am actually going to call out all the people who completed their goals for the month in every Sunday post )

2. This month minimum study time should be around 4 -5 hours ( doesn’t include school or coaching )

3. Exercise is must and meditation or yoga with daily gratitude affirmation sessions are recommended

4. We have to stop worrying about others and focus on self improvement and grow our knowledge ( scoring is secondary) so plan accordingly 😇.

5. Post daily ( at lest try to ) with time and other details so we know that you are actually doing what you planned for !

6. That is all !

Random aesthetic pics from Pinterest:

That is all guys so byiiiie 🥳

Your study buddy ,

Tarun

[theunstuffedpepper]

Man oh man, this baby is the opposite of Linc.

Side note: I’ve become tired of using tumblr nicknames and I think I might just switch to using the kids’ actual names. I feel like when people use the first initial, I personally have a hard time keeping track of who is whom - that’s a me problem. Sooo, I’m just gonna start using their names? Feels weird, but I dunno what I’m protecting against by using nicknames, really, either.

So. Pep, my first babe and current 2.5 year old best buddy, is Holden. Those of you who know me off-tumblr know that. Our second sweet angel is Lincoln.

Now that that’s cleared up.. I’ve been having contractions on and off for over a week now - since last Wednesday - and yesterday B and I finally went down to the hospital. It’s an hour drive, so the stress level was high. Has been high for the past week. My MIL just finally moved into our second home here in town on Sunday, so thankfully we now have a close-by childcare solution in place. We got to the hospital, contractions were at 3 minutes apart, 3cm dilated, and everybody was thinking we would be meeting our third baby boy soon.

Aaaaaand then… the contractions slowed down. Six hours later after bouncing on the ball and doing all the things, I was still at 3cm. They sent us home. So disappointed. I was not dealing well.

Thank goodness I had therapy this morning. I was able to talk some things out, and with the help of my therapist, reframe and get some perspective. I’m doing better today. Aside from the fact that I stepped outside after therapy and immediately got stung by a bee. Universe, I won’t take that one personally, but really. Come on sis.

My parents are coming up tonight; MIL has an obligation Friday-Saturday, so they’re gonna relieve her. I have an ultrasound scheduled for tomorrow morning, so B and I will both go for that. Then I have an induction scheduled for Saturday morning.

I’ve got mixed feelings about being induced, but I know inevitably my body will be more “ready” to be induced this time around than when I was induced with Holden. That gives me some relief. It’s good to have a light at the end of the tunnel. For today, it’s just resting, spending time with my best boy, and keeping myself mentally & emotionally balanced. I’m gonna try a guided meditation later on - my therapist has been recommending them. Can’t hurt, right?

All the good vibes welcome & appreciated. Xx