#we have no idea how anyone else feels quite frankly

[favroitecrime]

he’s been to pretty much every single concert since her break up. he’s captured so much conversation. the reason so much shit was quickly found out about him was because people have been posting about it for months prior to them announcing a relationship. she’s catching heat because there’s really just no way she doesn’t know. people have condemned the bad person, they’re now condemning the person who’s likely offering them a bigger platform AND addressing why the fuck she’s so okay with engaging with someone like him. and that should be a major, major red flag for anyone.

[liinos]

It makes me fucking insane how grad programs are like oh did you not go immediately into a masters? Well you better have a good reason why or we might not think you deserve to get one bc you're not committed 🤭 omg you didn't cure cancer or solve world inequality before applying? Don't even look in our direction 🤮 it's so great you want to further your education it would really be a shame if we made it as hard as possible 👉👈

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 9

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 8 of...who knows.

It felt like forever. He knew it wasn't. It must have been minutes until the car door was ripped open and Charles slipped in right next to him.

It wasn’t until the doors were slammed shut behind Charles that Max dared to look at the Monégasque.

His heart skipped a beat at the sight. Charles was still in his racing suit just as him, the suit itself streaked with sweat.

The moment the car door closed, the car started riving.

"Merde," Charles cursed. Max could only agree. "I am sorry, that it took this long."

Max gave a sharp, jerky shake of his head. "You don’t have to apologize," he somehow managed to get the words out. "I’m just..." he trailed off, a shaky exhale escaping him. "How could you make it here so fast?" he asked, casting a quick glance in his friend’s direction.

Charles snorted. "Your press officer had a shouting match with Ferrari's,“ he said simply.

If Max wasn’t so focused on not completely losing it, he might’ve been amused with the mental image. But at the moment, he could only shake his head.

Next to him, Charles let out a sigh. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

"No. You?" he gave back.

"I don't have a bad feeling," Charles said quietly. “Not worse than it has been for days at least.”

Twin Telepathy was apparently a thing as far as Charles and Colette were concerned. 

Quite frankly, till this day, it still weirded Max out. They just seemed to know when the other one wasn't feeling well. 95% of the time, they got sick at the same time. They communicated more easily with each other than with anyone else, and regardless of what game they played...they needed to be put on opposite teams, because otherwise nobody had a chance against them.

Max was well aware of Colette and Charles' strange connection. Even if he didn’t fully understand it. They both had some sort of sixth sense when it came to the other one, and it sometimes felt like they were talking in secret code.

"What’s it telling you right now?" he asked, his voice barely above a rough whisper.

Charles turned to him fully at that, and Max saw the way his eyes swept over him, taking in every aspect of his appearance.

Max could only imagine what Charles was seeing. He felt like a walking wreck, and there was no doubt his appearance was mirroring that.

"Colette is in pain," Charles finally said, his voice strangely quiet. "She’s scared."

That answer felt like somebody shoved a knife into Max’s stomach. He inhaled sharply, the breath catching in his throat. “Of course, she is,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

Charles seemed to sense what he was thinking, even without being telepathically connected through whatever the hell Colette and him had going on. The Monégasque reached out and took a firmer hold of his hand, the grip almost crushing.

"Don’t," Charles said firmly, his voice leaving no room for arguments. "Don’t go there. We’re gonna get to her as fast as we can."

There was a brief moment of silence, as Max tried to collect himself. He focused all his attention on the pressure of Charles' hand on his, and somehow, it actually helped.

"I feel so goddamn useless," he finally admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "I want to be with her."

"You want to try calling her before we are in the air?" Charles suggested.

That was not a bad idea, not at all. Max let out a low and slightly shaky exhale, swallowing hard. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, I…” he had to stop and clear his throat. “Yeah, I’ll try to call her.”

His hands were shaking when he pulled out his phone out of the backpack that somebody had handed off to him, already packed. Regardless of all the drama that had gone on in the RedBull garage during the year… if it really mattered, the people in there pulled off minor miracles.

Within minutes, his entire day - hell, his entire week - had been packed for him, with all the essentials of clothes and everything else he would need.

He had almost forgotten about the phone in his shaking hands, but now he just stared at the screen for a moment. His fingers were trembling so badly that just unlocking the phone was a challenge in itself.

Jimmy and Sassy were on his lockscreen...a picture that Colette had once sent him when he had been away for one of his races...the two of them laying on top of her on their couch...

Every other time Max saw the photo, it made his heart do a little funny jump. Now though, it made his chest ache. It felt like a sharp stabbing pain, and for a moment, he just sat there and stared at the picture.

Then he called her.

It rang. And it rang, and it rang again. With each passing second, that horrible knot in his stomach tightened a little more. With every ring of the bell, it got harder to breathe.

Finally, to Max’s immense and enormous relief, the line connected.

"Hey, Maxie. I put you on speaker," Victoria's voice came over the phone, sounding surprisingly calm.

A shiver of something resembling dread ran through Max, at the sound of Victoria’s voice. But he pushed past the feeling.

His thoughts were once again running wild - was it a bad sign that Colette wasn’t the one speaking to him? Or was he just overreacting..?

“Hey,” he forced the word out past the lump in his throat. "How are you feeling?" he asked, pleading for Colette's voice. Was it selfish that he just wanted to hear her tell him that everything was going to be okay?

"Better now," Colette's voice came, sounding slightly hoarse.

The words were like a shot of adrenaline, and for a moment, Max actually felt a little lightheaded. “Liefje.” He closed his eyes, just hearing her voice sending another wave of relief through him. “Are you okay? How is Bébé?”

"Bébé has decided that they would rather be born today, so I would suggest you hurry up," Victoria said drily.

"Seems like the kid already inherited Max's need for speed," Charles quipped. "How are you doing, Coco?"

"I'm good," Colette's voice replied, and Max could only imagine the eye-roll that was currently happening. He knew his girlfriend, and he had no doubt that she had been glaring at Victoria ever since the phone was put on speaker.

"Where are you?" she asked, her voice suddenly turning much softer. "You're coming, right?"

"Coming," he assured her, his heart aching. "We're coming, I promise."

"I know. I’m not worried." She sounded like she meant it, but Max could easily imagine the anxiety in her eyes.

"You'd better not worry," Charles said, and then added, "I’m keeping him from doing anything dumb."

Max shot Charles a dirty look at that, bt he swallowed down the annoyed protest and focused back on Colette instead. “Just…hold on a little longer, okay?”

"It's not like I can go anywhere else," Colette replied, her voice slightly amused. "I’ll keep our little speed demon in there a little lo...." She broke off and let out a quiet hiss of pain, her voice once again cut off by what Max suspected to be a particularly painful contraction.

“Colette,” he said sharply, all kinds of emotions washing over him, one by one. “Liefje, just…just breathe through it, okay?”

There was a second of panting, then, he heard her take a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” she finally said. “Just…hurts like hell.”

He swallowed and clenched his free hand tightly into a fist, fighting against the urge to just jump out of the car and start running towards the airport.

Colette being in pain was not something he could deal with.

He heard her take a few more deep breaths, and he just sat there, waiting and listening and feeling absolutely useless.

"How long until you get here?" she asked after a moment, her voice breathless. He could see her in his mind, his sweet girl, sitting on the bed and clutching her belly as another contraction hit her.

"We're not even at the airport yet," he told her, and damn it, why were his eyes suddenly burning. "We’ll get there as soon as we can, okay? Just...hold on a little longer."

"What your dad said..." Colette said with a shaky voice.

"I know," he said simply, the grief raw in his voice. Neither of them were ever really going to get over the two babies they had lost. They had learnt to live with the pain, they had dealt with the heartbreak an grief...but it was always going to be scar for them.

"Max, if something…" she began, her voice a little wobbly. He could tell that she was crying, by the way her breathing got a little more hitched and ragged.

But she suddenly cut off and gasped, letting out an even breath. Another contraction..."Hey, nothing is gonna happen," he quickly said, trying to soothe her. "Nothing. I'll be there soon. I'll be there before you know, and our child will meet their parents. We will be fine, we will get through this. You, and me. Together."

"If something happens," Colette continues. "If..."

"No," he cut her off, the word coming out as a growl. "Nothing is gonna happen. You will not talk that way. You’re going to deliver a gorgeous and healthy baby, and I won’t hear anything else."

"Max..." she protested, but Max wasn’t having it.

"You’re not going anywhere," he said firmly, putting as much steel in his voice as he could. "You will be fine. Our baby will be fine, and I will be there soon and I will hold your hand and you can threaten to geld me and all of it will be okay. Just breathe.” 

He could hear the sound of her breathing, deep and even. She was trying to steady it, and Max gripped his phone tighter. He didn’t know if he was trying to hold himself together, or if he was trying to hold on to the sound of her voice.

The seconds ticked by, and then another contraction hit, and he heard her gasp out another ragged breath. Max felt like he was going to crawl out of his own skin. The idea of her in pain was like an invisible knife twisting a little deeper in his gut, each time.

"We need to go," Charles said suddenly. "We need to get into the plane." The car slowed down at that moment. "Coco, listen to me. I am going to be absolutely fucking furious with you if something happens to you," Charles told her fiercely. 

"Trust me," Colette’s voice said, sounding slightly tired. "I am very, very motivated to stay alive."

That was good. That was a good sign. If she was still being sarcastic and even a little bit cheeky…it was good.

"Just hold on," he told her again, the familiar feeling of helplessness seeping into his bones. "Just keep hanging on, for me. I love you."

“I love you too,” the words were as immediate and as fast as the sunrise each morning. "Hurry up, dammit."

"I’m trying," he replied, his voice hoarse. "I’m trying. We’re at the airport now. We’ll get there as fast as we can-" he had to stop, when he heard her let out another pained gasping sound, as another contraction clearly hit her hard.

“Goddamn,” he exclaimed, all of his muscles tense with the urge to do something. He wanted to help her, he wanted to be there to comfort her…but more than anything,  he was terrified of losing her. "Liefje, just keep breathing, okay? Breathe and stay calm."

"I’m trying to," her voice was breathless, and he knew that she was probably trying hard to fight the urge to cry out. Oh God, he hated that. He hated seeing her in pain, he loathed feeling this utterly useless.

"Go. Love you," she told him.

"I love you," he told her emphatically, wanting to say something more, but then Charles impatiently gestured at him to hurry up and get out of the car. "I...I’ll see you soon, okay? Just hang on, okay?"

"Yeah," he could tell that she was trying even harder to control her voice, trying to put on a calm and steady front for his benefit. "Just..." she cut off and let out a gasp, another contraction evidently hitting her hard. "...just hurry up before this baby decides to make their way out before you arrive, okay?"

"I will," he promised through gritted teeth. "I will, goddammit, I will, just…hang on."

He heard Colette’s pained panting, and each of her breaths was like a stab in the gut.He hated having to hang up on her

Everything in him rebelled at that. How could he, how could he possibly abandon her like that, how could he let her take on this pain and fear all by herself, without him there to hold her hand...but goddamnit, he had no choice.

He took a shuddering breath and pushed past the urge to scream, to slam his fist into something, anything. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, ranging from the desperate need to get to her, to overwhelming panic, to anger at the universe for forcing them apart and for putting her through this pain.

Into the plane they went…it was probably the shortest amount of time between entering a plane and taking off Max had ever experienced. 

Before too long they were up in the air, flying towards Nice.

The minutes ticked by, each one passing by like a century. Max would sit in restless agitation at his seat, his mind racing back and forth. Every thought and memory came back to Colette. He just wanted to be at her side, he just wanted everything to be okay…

And instead he would be stuck on this plane for 6 hours.

He would be stuck on this goddamn plane for six hours. Six hours, each one of them filled with the knowledge that the love of his life was giving birth to their child, and he was not there to support her, to hold her hand and reassure her that everything was okay.

It was driving him absolutely insane. He couldn’t take it, he just wanted to be there, with her. He could vividly picture her, sitting in the hospital bed and gripping the rails, her face screwed up in pain as she fought through another contraction. And he was not there to comfort her.

"Maman is with her. Your sister is with her. Lorenzo and Arthur too." Charles said at that moment. “We aren't there but everybody else is."

"How can you be this calm?" Max asked him, dragging a hand through sweat damp hair.

"Don't mistake calm for not being worried," Charles said evenly, his eyes tracking Max's restless pacing of the plane. "I am worried. For her, for you and for the little one. But freaking out isn't gonna do anyone any favours right now."

"I know,” Max said, his voice still strangled tight with stress. He just couldn't get any of the images out of his mind - her struggling and fighting her way through the pain, looking more vulnerable and pale than he had ever seen her...and he was not there.

“Besides, I shouted at Ferrari’s PR and got it out of my system, so currently, I am feeling quite calm.” Charles said darkly. “I imagine that’s going to change again when I am sure that Colette and the baby are alright.”

Max just stared at him. Charles had done what?

If there was a religion that Charles Leclerc believed in then it was Ferrari.

Charles Leclerc was their golden boy. Their Il Predestinato. There was no good-natured fobbing to be had about Ferrari regardless of what issues there had been had through the years, and there had been a lot.

Charles worshipped Ferrari like a malevolent goddess. He didn’t want to hear any criticism of his team and Max had given up on that a very long time ago. 

Charles and Colette both could be the most stubborn people Max had ever match. The only one who could match their stubbornness were each other. 

"You did what?" Max stared at him, utterly flabbergasted. Charles was an absolute Ferrari fan and loyal to the very core…why the hell would he yell at the PR people?

"Why...? What did they do?"

"They weren't even going to tell me that something was wrong with Colette," Charles said darkly. "I knew it. I knew that something was off. But they didn't say anything. It was one of Red Bull's PR Staff that got me out of the cooldown room. Ferrari wouldn't have said anything to me. Ferrari didn't want me to leave either. They wanted to debrief, they wanted me to give interviews,"

Max had to resist the urge to swear. He had been so focused on the fact that he was not with Colette that he hadn't even processed the fact that Ferrari had actually kept her labour a secret from Charles, simply to make him stay and do his goddamn job for them.

"You know that that is not normal, right?" he asked him drily. "I am not telling you that everything is perfect at Red Bull but Christian would never fucking stand for that."

"You know I never expected it," Charles told him, his mouth a thin hard line. "We are the drivers. We are the stars. But we come second. First and foremost, we are assets to the team. What Ferrari wants, Ferrari gets. We drive, we get podiums, we hold the trophies, and we smile for the cameras. Everything else comes second. It doesn’t matter to them. To them, only the trophies matter. "

"That's what they want," Max told him, anger seeping into his voice. "But that's not how it should be. Ferrari is wrong. If something is wrong with your loved ones, they have no right to keep it from you like that. Especially not for the sake of a goddamn interview."

"I know," Charles said, his lips thin with bitterness. "But there's not much I can do about it, is there? We may be the top drivers on the grid, but we drive the car that the teams give us. There's only so much that we can do when the team has power over pretty much every aspect of our career. And believe me, I am going to pay a fucking price for doing what I did. I just don't care at all. It's Colette," he said sharply. "I love all my siblings. I do. I love Lorenzo and Arthur. I would do everything for them. But they aren't my twin. They aren't the second half of me," Charles said simply. "Ferrari be damned."

Max hadn't thought that he was ever going to hear these words out of Charles' mouth but here they were.

"What the fuck did Jos say by the way? What did Coco mean?" Charles demanded.

"He gave an interview to Sky Sports," Max said, fury still embering deep in his gut.

"Of course he did." Charles said, not sounding surprised at all. "What did he say?"

"Confirmed the relationship...and the pregnancy," Max said clenching his teeth. "And if that wasn't enough...he made a...comment about how it had taken us long enough to have a baby."

There was a sharp indrawn breath as Charles absorbed that. "...What?" Charles said after a moment, his voice strangled. "...he made that comment in public? Are - are you serious?"

"I never told him about the two...miscarriages," Max said quietly. "I couldn't deal with whatever well meant advice he was going to have...but I...We lost two babies," Max said weakly. "My father went out there and confirmed our relationship and the pregnancy without talking to either of us. He just made that decision because it's "ridiculous" that we kept it a secret for so long. An it’s making me furious. This wasn't his decision to make. This was ours."

"Yes," Charles said, his jaw clenching. "It was. Your decision. Nobody else’s. He had absolutely no right to do that. Goddamn it, I have never liked that man, but I've never had the urge to punch him as much as I do this very moment."

"You and me both," Max said. The anger he was feeling would have been burning through him like a damn inferno if he hadn't been so worried about Colette.

"This should have come from us," Max repeated quietly. "Not from anybody else."

"It still can come from you," Charles said.

Max paused, looking up at him. "Are you saying we should..." he began uncertainly.

"You want to tell the entire world that you love my sister and that she is having your baby? You have an Instagram account and a phone with an internet connection," Charles said drily. "Tell them the truth. Your truth."

Max opened his mouth and then closed it again. Charles had a point. It was obvious what the news was going to be now if people had seen Jos's interview.

But he wanted to be the one to tell the world. He wanted it to be on his terms. He wanted it to be public but on his public terms. Not his father's.

"Are you ever going to ask my sister to marry you?" Charles asked him suddenly.

The question caught him completely off guard. "...What?" He said blankly, stunned by the change of the conversation.

"You gave her a ring when you were both 18 that you both insisted was only a promise ring," Charles said drily. "Are you ever going to replace it with the real thing?"

He thought back to that ring that still sat on Colette's finger to this day. A simply gold band with a tiny heart-shaped diamond.

He had given it to her in 2016, after his very first Grand Prix win in Spain. He had gone out and bought it that very same day to be exact.

He had bought Victoira a handbag the first time he had scored his championship points...but the first time he had won...he had bought Colette that ring.

"Apparently the baby is only going to have your surname too, because you have an agreement," Charles continued. "Do I actually want to know what that agreement was?"

"We were 18. Both our father's would have probably killed us, if we came to them and told them that we were engaged," Max said with a sigh. The Leclerc's had always been supportive of their relationship but Hervè Leclerc had very much thought that both Colette and him were far too young to get married. 

Jos on the other hand...Max didn't even want to imagine that screaming fit.  "So I gave her that ring and we agreed that..."

"You agreed that..." Charles repeated slowly, silently urging him to continue.

Max let out a deep sigh and dragged a hand through his already messy hair, mussing it up even more. "We agreed that we didn't really need a piece of paper to tell us what we already knew," he said simply. "Colette and I had been together for 6 years at that point, we already knew and accepted that we were going to be together for the rest of our lives. It was just a matter of when. So we decided that we didn't need a damn piece of paper to know that we were committed to each other. We already knew that, without a doubt," Max said simply. "It was a promise ring. To love and to cherish, till death us do part. One day we would do it properly, but till then...that ring was a promise."

Charles stared at him. "Let me get this straight. You have been married to my sister for 10 years?" he asked him sharply.

Max winced. Okay. Put like that, it sounded kinda bad. "We never had the actual wedding," he said sheepishly. "We both know it wasn't necessary for us, so...we kinda just...never got around to it."

"I mean, I did ask your father for her hand in marriage when it was clear that he wasn't going to be there...when we eventually did it properly...but...for us that ring was… It was more than enough," Max said quietly. "I knew damn well that I would be with her for the rest of my life. She knew it. We both knew it. And that ring was a symbol between us that sealed the deal. We both knew that it was going to be for forever and always. It was a promise. A promise to always stay by each other’s side. No matter how badly things fell apart around us. No matter how much the world wanted to tear us to apart. We were going to stay together, come hell or high water. We didn't need a paper to prove that to us or the rest of the world," Max said firmly.

Charles stared at him for a couple of long moments, processing this. Max was well aware that, from an outside perspective, it might sound weird. That they had been so young, but so utterly certain that they were going to spend their lives together.

But he and Colette had been together for years. And he had seen how strongly they had bonded over the years, seen what they had been able to deal with as a team, as one, and how they had come through every single thing that the life had thrown at them together.

"You two are utterly ridiculous," Charles finally said drily. "You didn't get engaged because as far as you two were concerned you already got married years ago."

Max winced a little bit and couldn't really refute it. If he were to be honest, he'd have admit it did sound utterly ridiculous, when Charles spelled it out like that.

But that just...that was how badly they had known right from the very beginning that this was it for them. They didn't need a piece of paper to tell them what they already knew.

"I'll ask her properly," he promised Charles. "I already got the ring. But Colette doesn't want to overshadow Lorenzo and Charlotte and I knew that she wasn't going to want to have a big party while pregnant so I figured I would just wait."

Charles was slightly taken aback by his words, before he gave a small smile. "She'll definitely say yes, you know," he said, the corner of his eyes crinkling with affection.

Max smiled in return. His heart ached with the thought of her. "I hope so," he said quietly, feeling like there was a hole in his chest where his heart was supposed to be. "I really, really hope so."

[alltimefail]

Random thought that could could absolutely be nothing, an over-analyzation of sorts even, but I have always found it interesting that in the Devlin house episode Charles gets sucked into the loop starting from the point he snaps at Edwin about him "Not being the all-knowing expert on all things." It's especially interesting to me because after he does so, Edwin tells Charles that he's "...Not acting like himself at all."

In theory, Charles could have just reappeared when Mr. Devlin turns the corner or when he approaches Mr. Devlin here:

because if the point of repetition here is to show us that the abuse Charles suffered at the hands of his own father is what causes him to get trapped in the loop, either of those moments would have been sufficient in supporting that idea. The dialogue shared beforehand between him and Edwin has little to do with the point at hand...unless...

Charles feeling pain about his own father isn't the whole sum of why he gets trapped in the loop; his fear that he's just LIKE his father, that he's not a good person, that he's "Cruel for the shits," and capable of hurting the people he loves (and thus undeserving of their love) is also what traps him in the loop, and that's why his "loop" starts with him snapping at Edwin.

Even though we as viewers can empathize with and understand why Charles snaps at Edwin given the circumstances, it's very unlikely that Charles extends that same grace to himself. I would argue that we see the multi-faceted layers of his trauma explored in various ways from this moment on. Charles himself even later admits that all he feels is anger despite the fact that he wants to be "a good guy." Charles has yet to understand that it's possible to be good and feel anger, that anger in and of itself is not bad, and that feeling strong negative emotions like grief or anger does not make a person dangerous or abusive like his father was...nor does it guarantee that he would use his anger to harm others. So, with that in mind, of course Charles' loop would start with him lashing out at Edwin, as opposed to it just starting with him lashing out at Brandon Devlin; it's not just about feeling powerless to stop the abuse, it's about feeling like you play a role in it. It's about the deep-rooted fear that maybe you actually deserved the abuse you suffered because you are not good, and just by being related to an abuser you are damned to be just like them, or worse. Charles worries about who he truly is, deep down, and that maybe Edwin is wrong when he says that Charles isn't acting like himself: maybe the darkest parts that he works so hard to bury are actually who he truly is, and his ability to throw careless, harmful, biting words at someone he loves deeper than anyone else may be a reflection of this. After all, his father loved his mother, he loved Charles, and look what he did to them... how he hurt them beyond repair. What if he is the same?

OR: the trauma Charles deals with isn't only the violence his father enacted on him (shown through what Brandon Devlin does to his family), but it's also the violence he feels capable of enacting himself (shown through his ability to throw harsh words toward Edwin who Charles openly claims is the "most important person in the world" to him).

What furthered this idea even more for me (and added a bit of salt to the wound frankly) was Crystal and Edwin's reactions to Charles being pulled into the loop. Out of shock, confusion, and frustration Crystal immediately turns to Edwin for answers but for a moment he is just frantic and uncharacteristically frazzled, only able to say, "Charles was right, I don't know everything..." and OUCH, right? But it emphasizes that 1) what Charles said to Edwin was quite hurtful, 2) that it did have an (unintentional) impact on Edwin, and 3) that Charles himself very well might have realized it was hurtful as soon as it left his mouth thus, again, why it would make sense that his loop began there.

It takes a strong emotional reaction to be pulled into a loop; the possibly that this moment was written to work on two levels of Charles' inner turmoil is quite clever (and extremely heartbreaking).

Again, it could absolutely be nothing... but it's worth pondering!!

[alchemistc]

There's been something about the woobification of Buck that's been sitting on the tip of my tongue for weeks now, and I think I've finally figured it out.

This is, of course, mostly in reference to the moral outrage about a decade-ish (give or take) age gap between two adult men and the infantalization of one said grown man, so all the puritanism isn't really coming from a place of good faith anyway, but here's the thing that's been bugging me that I couldn't quite put a finger on until now.

Buck has people he goes to for certain things. He has, what are in his mind, experts in the field for most of the things he can't think through on his own, that he goes to for a sounding board.

He went to Hen to talk through the sperm donor dilemma for a few reasons that made sense to him. 1) She's a mom. She has very much had to deal with the reality of 'giving up' children she considered her own. Buck is aware that he would be giving up something that could mean something to him, and he wants to talk to someone who has some insight into that. 2) She's dealt with IVF. She knows the risks, she knows the trials and tribulations, she knows about this thing that he is thinking about agreeing to be a part of so she's going to have a fuller grasp on the enormity of everything this process entails.

And they drink about it. Hen gives him what she can and cautions him where she thinks she should and they continue to talk about it and regardless of what SHE thinks, he makes his mind up in part because he got to talk to his Expert.

Bobby is often his go to when he feels like he's losing his grip on things. He's seen Bobby staring down the bottom of the bottle. He's seen the work he's done to pull himself back into the world, and he's seen the way he fights for his family, his people. Buck leans on him in times of questioning himself because he knows Bobby has pulled himself off the ledge with bleeding hands and a bleeding heart.

He reaches out to Maddie about interpersonal shit constantly. We see it all the way back in S2 when he's starting to question what the hell he's still doing in Abby's apartment, and that never really changes. She's the one with advice for him when he's angry with his parents, upset with the firefam, worried about his friends, or just generally concerned with the way he's perceived by people or how he perceives the world. He goes to her when he's embarrassed, ashamed, because he knows she won't judge him for it. She'll call him out, for sure, but she's not going to look at him differently when she knows he's done something he considers bad behavior.

When he goes to her during the Tommy arc, he's there for one reason he'll admit, and another she has to ferret out. 1) He lied to his best friend and he doesn't know why. 2) Oh yeah he went on a date with a dude that's not strange WHY IS THAT STRANGE I'VE ALWAYS BEEN AN ALLY PLEASE DON'T PULL BACK THE CURTAIN - and Maddie is there with two things: 1) It's not weird but it IS new and something you clearly haven't worked through all the way which is why 2) you'll tell Eddie when you're ready

And Eddie is sort of his go-to to bounce ideas off of. Eddie is his Buck expert. Eddie is the guy who can sort through all the bullshit and who sees Buck for exactly who he is, every time, regardless of what Buck himself is thinking. Eddie is his best friend, and he knows the good the bad and the ugly better than anyone else. He is also, quite frankly, the one Buck seeks out to help him contextualize all of his romantic feelings for people. Eddie's the guy he talks to when he's interested in someone, when he's falling for someone, he's the guy through which Buck filters his love interests into the firefam. I do the same shit with my best friend. It's instinct to want the person you consider the expert on you to meet the person you are interested in, it's instinct to want them to like each other, to get along. Buck knows Eddie loves him (in whatever way you see that love, Buck knows Eddie loves him) and he wants this person who loves him to be at least an active listener as he talks himself through the minefield of relationships. I do also think that up until the events of season seven, Buck considers Eddie sort of an expert on that traditional love-marriage-kids-white-picket-fence relationship Buck thinks he's striving for - in a very naive way, because obviously the wasn't what Eddie and Shannon had and Buck knows that, but he's probably fed some of Eddie's rose colored reminiscences back into that notion.

When he comes out to Eddie he's got two worries. 1) I lied to you and I figured out why but I'm still a little worried you think it's weird and 2) I screwed it up with someone I really like and I don't know where to go from here.

And Eddie (Buck expert) reassures him that just because it's new and unexpected doesn't make it strange, that it doesn't change anything in their friendship. And then he gets right to the heart of it - if you like him you should reach out and tell him that. He doesn't know you like we do but if you give him the chance to, he'll love you as much as we do. If he doesn't give it the same shot you want to he's the idiot.

With all that context in mind, Buck isn't seeking out Tommy's attention because he wants an authority figure, or someone to take care of him, someone to guide him through sex or love or relationship dynamics or any of the other random shit I've seen ppl infantalizing Buck about.

What he's looking for, and what he ultimately tells Tommy he'd like to pursue, is a partnership. Someone to walk (or more likely for Buck, speedrun) through experiences together. The Athena to his Bobby, the Chim to his Maddie, the Karen to his Hen.

So every time I see someone infantalizing Buck for seeking out a relationship with an older man for X or Y reason, I'm just like - no. He has Bobby, Hen, Maddie, Eddie, Chim etc for that. He doesn't want or need Tommy for that. He is a grown ass man who has built these strong relationships with his peers and his mentors and he is so fucking aware of that because he reaches for their help any time he feels the urge for a helping hand.

So yeah, Tommy's older. Yes, Tommy has more experience with his sexuality than Buck. And that - that's really it. Buck's been in the same career for more than half a decade. He's lived on his own since he was no older than 19/20. He's had serious relationships, he has a rich and fulfilling life. There is no power imbalance in the relationship between Buck and Tommy.

And while the age gap may be a bit of a draw for Buck, it's not WHY he's attracted to Tommy. We know because he's told Maddie. He's cool. He's interesting. He's confident. He has a cleft.

Buck isn't going into this waiting for someone older and more experienced to take the fucking reins. He felt like he clicked with Tommy, like there was an immediate connection, and yes, Tommy had to kiss him about it for Buck to actually figure out what it was he was experiencing, but from that point on it was all on Buck (and the people he leans on for advice) to help him sort through.

Tommy didn't do shit other than pump the brakes and try to give Buck the space he thought he needed to decide what he was ready for. Buck (again, with the help of his experts - Maddie for the emotional piece of it, Eddie for the Buck of it all) did the work on his own. Tommy didn't swoop in and overbearingly hold his hand through a sexual awakening. He kissed him, asked him out, realized he wasn't ready, stepped back and then checked in multiple times when Buck came back at it going 120 miles an hour.

And then he did everything he could to prove to Buck he wanted the same thing - a partner, someone to talk to, and lean on, and flirt with and rely on to show up whenever they could feasibly manage it (and sometimes when it's a little unfeasible too).

The narrative even acknowledges that Buck had no reason to go to Bobby in this scenario, when he often would, and lays out exactly why.

Within the canon of this particular arc, we're meant to see this as Buck realizing he has the experience necessary to think these things through on his own. This is Buck finally taking control of something that's always felt like it fell into his lap a bit. This is Buck doing more than treading water until his legs give out.

And minimizing that growth bc you personally don't like the LI he's pursuing is gross at best. At worst it's something much more insidious.

[absolutebl]

Love Sea - A Trash Watch Smolder

Well my BLabies, do you have your drinks ready?

Are your smores stabbed on dildos, ready to roast over the stinking flames? (Or whatever one prods smores with, I missed that weird American tradition in my misspent youth.)

Can you smell it in the air? The smell of burning trash?

Let the dumpster fire begin. Another Mame offering is upon us.

The Background

The Mameverse tends to interlock, but all signs point to these being entirely new characters. (Click on that link if you want my thoughts on this author/producer and what I feel she does well and poorly.) Meanwhile, here's the brief:

Who?

FortPeat - established couple from previous Mame offering Love in the Air AKA LITA (trash watched here).

How do we feel about them? We likie. They a great pair. Steady, established actors, good a promo, but not too good. Bit one note but can't ask for too much when it comes with such great chemistry.

What do we know about them as actors? Fort is legitimately in Engineering (hilarious). Peat and he started in the industry around the same time with bit parts, but Peat is 4 years older. They do high heat and they do it well. They were quite popular after their first series and have received sponsorships. So they wisely stayed branded and it's nice to see them on our screens again.

What?

Love Sea

While travelling a writer has a one night stand with a very irritating man.

When?

Sundays

Where?

iQIYI (AKA icky)

Why?

Mame

To what degree?

Stick your thermometer into that fire, we gonna find out. 102°C I expect.

Episode One - That's An Outfit We'd All Wear to a Tropical Island

Here’s the thing. Icky has decided (in its infinite wisdom) that it will no longer allow screen caps on mobile devices. Which means you’re going to get my loquaciousness on this dumpster fire with no respite from the unmitigated madness via photos of pretty boys saying stupid things.

So. Read at your own risk.

I have a bottle of sake and a maple doughnut (don’t knock it 'til you’ve tried it) so let’s get started!

Hold onto your dildo smores BLabies we are in Mame Country. And apparently that country has its very own baby drone to film with now. (Look, the one thing BL rarely needs more distance shots. That’s not what we’re here for, people. Certainly not from FortPeat.)

Rak, baby, I'm loving the all-black western meets goth-rocker look but that eye make-up is the true star. This is how I shall dress when I visit Thailand next. (Oh, you think I'm joking? Gotta work on my smokey eye.)

Meanwhile, if your suitcases are that expensive, why aren’t they matched?

P'ABL asking the important questions for once.

Speaking of important questions:

Why are siblings always trying to pimp each other out in Mame’s stuff? Does anyone else find this creepy? I think it’s odd to be your sibling's wingman when he's chasing tail. It’s edging into the incest taboo. Oh dear, I said edging and incest in the same sentence, I’m probubly giving Mame ideas.

I’m getting Hometown Cha Cha Cha vibes from Mut.

Rak is such a cat, very picky and stand-offish. Mut is such a puppy. Very conflicting personalities. Not a bad combo. Also Rich/poor. Country/city.

The "let’s get it on" music is hilarious. But at least Mame doesn't use egregious sound effects in her shows. Well, not as many as GMMTV. Small mercies.

I will say, FortPeat do hurt/comfort very well. Peat is good at prickly fragile baby-girl. Fort is good at cocky arrogant prick. They are good at bouncing off of each other and still showing desire. Frankly, chemistry is not one of their problems. They’re fine little actors. It’s just the story is going to betray them. Characters are going to be inexplicably evil for no good reason. And we are going to feel manipulated as a result.

But right now?

It’s fine.

And that's it, that's how I feel about Love Sea.

All in all, I’m quite drunk and it wasn’t warranted.

Waste of sake. Not a waste of a maple doughnut. No such thing. Maple donuts are always put to good use.

Okay, so Mame? Just keep it on this level and we'll remain fine. Some light terrorizing and stalking, a smidge of breaking and entering. Nothing more offensive, okay?

But that’s my eternal optimism (and the sake) talking.

Right now I’m not feeling very strongly in any direction about this show. I haven’t been whipped into a verbal frenzy.

This has been a lackluster start.

Kortord tukorn

(sorry all)

This trash watch has started off as more of a dumpster smolder. A light recycling. (Like Mame and her character archetypes.)

We smokey rather than flaming (Like Rak's FANTASTIC eye makeup.)

Oof, I feel faintly ill. I think that is the sake, tho, not the eye make up. Which was on point! Although when he started to cry, it should’ve started running down his face. Life has very few stand out moments of glory apart from an adorable young man with eye makeup running down his face.

Catch ya next week. More sake, less doughnut.

su su na

Episode Two - Rack's Green Knit Shirt is Kinda Cute

I seriously cannot fault FortPeat's chemistry. And the opening sequence for this ep was intriguingly full of banter and then...

Surprise, BJ!

I do hope that beach is private. Starting with a BJ is very unusual in a BL. We certainly lick live in interesting times.

I feel like I haven't quite been warmed up to a sex scene yet. Kinda came out of nowhere. I mean it IS quite gay, making the prick front and center before the relationship gets going. But I was oddly indifferent to this start.

I'm on gd roll tonight apparently.

You know why? (Well, I'm me, but also...)

I feel like I have license. This show is kinda rude. Is that the word I’m looking for? Yes, rude. It's not very sexy, and it's not quite dirty, it's something else. Rude.

I’m not upset about it. It’s just odd. Like Thailand is trying on some Japanese button pushing for size.

I’m not mad just mildly confused.

Meanwhile, the GL sides are a "whipping girl" trope? Not sure I’ve ever we seen that combo before. Gay mean girls or something?

On an entirely different note, BL universe, I just thought I'd tell you that’s not where a gay man of Rak's caliber puts his perfume. Just FYI. 

I love claiming.

I love a public claiming!

I don’t care if this is Mame.

I LOVE A CLAIMING. 

Also, I am very much enjoying MutRak banter. Actually, I’m pretty much enjoying this episode.

OOOO, I typed too soon.

The second half is kinda dull.

Mame's little moment of "Author insert" was awful ham-handed and on the nose. On the prick? On the ego? She compared her own rampant mischaracterization and audience manipulation to the presence of dragons in a fantasy world? Basically saying: in BL my characters don’t have to be consistent, because that’s part of the genre.

I assure you, sweetheart, there are plenty of BLs and plenty of authors who have honest characterization that stays consistent throughout, and GASP actually bolsters faithful stories and drives plot with a conflict sourced in that consistency. Wandee Goodday... to pluck a randomly contemporaneous example out of thin air. You should try it sometime.

Ooo, now I'm salty.

Episode 3 - But Now, I'm Bored

Before we start....

Linguistics Corner!

Because I got an Ask here's a bit on these two and their pronouns! (We can see if my predictions are correct during the course of this trash watch.) We are in the realm of adult characters not school setting or friendship groups so Rak is using chan/nai and khun with Mut. There is a class & wealth difference with them, + Mut starts out as a kind of employee, so chan/nai makes perfect sense. It's an old fashioned but polite way of speaking that dodges age negotiations. Rak likely doesn't know their respective ages (he could be the older one). To even begin the discussion implies a willingness to use more intimate language so Rak likely doesn't wanna open that can of worms pronouns. He is using both chan/nai and his lack of flexibility around their use as a distancing tactic. Probubly instinctively. Pom or own name would be both intimate and status lowering for him to use. With most adult characters, phi/nong takes longer to establish (if ever), particularly if they start out as strangers. Also, it has much more intimate connotations. And by that I mean: emotional vulnerability not sex. It's fun to pay attention tho, because when these two pronoun shift (and they will) it's likely to be a significant moment in their romantic arc. If I'm lucky we will get a negotiation but that's not really a Meme thing so I suspect Mut will soften his language first. Because of Mut's characterization, and in order to ramp up the romance, I would actually expect these two to (eventually) parlay into rao/ter instead of phi/pom or guu/mueng. But I am looking forward to finding out how it's handled.

And now onto the episode.

...

..

.

Over a quarter way through and I have absolutely nothing to say. I apologize, this muse be a very boring trash watch. (Imagine how I feel?) I’m too tired to drink but even if there were alcohol in my system, I still think I would have nothing to say. 

Oh. Is that? Do I sense.... *GASP*

Traumatic backstories for our characters?

From Mame? Who seems to believe that no character can have depth without suffering?

Say it isn't so?

OK we’re now halfway through this episode and apparently there’s been a Time-lapse of some kind? A couple of weeks?

So this little cat & dog game they’ve been playing has been going on for a while?

Meanwhile...

I had a huge grin on my face at the moment Ja showed up. I guess I really miss him on my screen. Hi tall drink of water.

Oh, hydration.

Back to the show.

Just two boys with abandonment issues learning how to turn a vacation fling into a relationship mistake.

Also it’s a bit too early for that level of confessional. Isn't it? Well pacing-wise for a BL it feels that way. Are we now about to turn into a country mouse narrative?

On an entirely different note, it’s fascinating to have FortPeat and MosBank airing to high heat BLs at the same time. Especially as they're running on about the same release schedule. I’m enjoying watching 2 pairs both like in chemistry.

WAIT.

I sense a parody coming on.

Two branded pairs, both alike in chemistry, In fair Thailand, where all the cute boys yearn, From ancient grudge to suffer new Mame, Where trash watches make dumpster fires burn. From Fort the fatal loins of these two hoes (I HAD TO). A pair of branded pairs take on the heat; Whose narratives will oft include no clothes, Do with their smooches fight Tumblr critique. Such shameful usage of the dub-con trope, (Contrasted to others thirsty scenes,) Which, but for Mame's brand, all would say nope, Is now 12 eps of angst upon our screens. To wit, if you want sex without my diatribes, Give this a pass and watch Sunset X Vibes.

Thank you thank you. That is for the 3 people reading this who care.

Where was I?

Or right, no fault to FortPeat. Both pairs are working with the characters and scripts that they've been given.

But right now the sexitimes in this show just feel a lot more service and a lot less genuine (for lack of a better word) then Sunset X Vibes. Now, I know that the characters, narrative, and production company preferences are completely different, but the consummate interplay between surrender and hunger and consummation are oddly similar between these pairs, and yet they're reading (from this side of the screen) completely differently.

I don’t know where I’m going with this.

I just think we have an interesting study in heat and chemistry airing double down right now. And I wonder is anyone else is sensing what I'm sensing.

Writing that sonnet (or whatever) has utterly exhausted me. Nighty night. Don't let the guy-who-took-a-copy-of-your-hotel-key-and-broke-into-your-room bite.

Episode 4 - And Now, I'm Bored & Annoyed

I rushed back from the wilds of foreign climes to trash watch what exactly?

All this time spent establishing Mut as a

pillar of his community

really important lynchpin for oceanic conservation work

striving for his independence

building local friendships and surrogate family

the de facto mayor of this island

And he just leaves for Bangkok to be a boy toy?

And they JOKE about it?

Is the stuff between Mook and Mut supposed to be funny? It's not.

I got so bored I started looking up ways to organize my sunglasses.

Why is Mook so worried about Rak? He’s clearly an asshole who can take care of himself.

What is Mut doing with his life?

What am I doing with mine?

Too early in the series for an existential crisis.

I definitely need to start drinking again for this one.

Episode 5 - In which I simultaneously got even more bored & more annoyed

This time I armed myself with both booze and sugar. Unfortunately, there are some things even alcohol and chocolate can't cure. Mame is one of those things.

The bullying GL subplot is just BAD.

I’m getting an overall EPIC SQUICK from the fact that the two rich privileged characters are essentially taking advantage of the two lower class poorer characters. It’s not a power dynamic I enjoy at all. Ever.

So... everyone in Rak’s family is an extreme bitch, including him? Okaaay.

I mean Rak is pretty and all but I fail to understand the appeal. Maybe Mut just likes bitches? Maybe the sex really is that great?

I tell you, I wouldn’t put up with it.

ARGH. I'm just I’m not finding any of the character dynamics appealing in this show. I never thought I’d say this, but I wish I were back in LITA territory. 

I’m honestly sorry this trash watch is so bad.

This show isn’t inspiring me into anything but a general feeling of mild annoyance and slight fury.

It's like this rash I had in Stockholm one time.

Startlingly unpleasant, not what one might hope for, but also it could be worse, I suppose.

Episode 6 - In which I get very upset about jealousy

Tonight I'm combining my sugar with my alcohol and drinking chocolate soy milk with chocolate liquor in it. I'm aware that I have a child's taste in booze. The secret is I don't actually enjoy alcohol, I simply need it to survive Mame.

OK let’s do it.

Rich boy shops when sad.

Frankly, that always makes me feel better too. I prefer the snack aisle myself.

Oh. Goodie. You get to now watch ABL completely losing an entire brain due to raging at the machine because of one sentence.

Ready?

Chapter 6: Jealousy is a Sign of Love

Jealousy is a sign of love?! You absolute fuckers. Jealousy is not a sign of love, jealousy is a sign of possession, insecurity, insanity, and often abuse. Jealousy is a sign to dump that shithead as quickly as possible.

I mean, we all understand the story beat: in BL possession is revered and admired and used to drive plot when all other avenues have been exhausted. But you can’t just say it as the title of an episode! That’s too blatant.

TOO FAR!

Returning to the traumatic backstory. 

No, actually. Let’s skip that part.

I do like it when Rak gets all bossy. I love it when a spoiled boy manipulates his man's body to be his bolster pillow. Taiwan is particularly good at this.

Should I just go watch We Best Love for the 1millionth time instead of this show?

Too tempting.

Where was I?

It’s not even halfway through and I’ve already finished my drink in desperation. And am day dreaming of better shows.

Honestly, I have had many feelings about Meme over the years, but I don’t think I’ve ever been this bored with any of her stuff. I’d rather feel something than nothing.

Meanwhile, the GL moves on from bullying to outright manipulation and gaslighting. Cute. Added French for flavor.

I do like a smile kiss. And a lap sit. And so forth. So Fort.

Yes these two do sex scenes very well.

Give me something more.

Anything.

On the bright side... so far... no singing.

Episode 7 - I'm Too Drunk for This

This time, I decided to pre-game. So I went in tipsy. I’m hoping this improves my mood.

Look, I'm doing my best for you here. (Or am I doing my floppyest for you? Eh, same difference.)

Frankly, what’s really annoying me is that I am neither upset nor pleased with this flipping show. Turns out, I like to be driven one way or the other by Mame. But this show? Nada. It's a VOID.

At this juncture I'd prefer to feel rage than indifference.

I gotta say that thinking about this purely as a soap opera makes me understand it more. I don't like it any better, but I get what's going on. These are the Days of Our BL.

Oh hey, I know that convention center! Best food in the biz.

The revenge bit was fun I guess?

Ooo. Now I kinda wanna rewatch Shelter. It’s been ages. Such a great movie. 

Where was I?

Oh, right, the crazy cousin character. I don’t understand what’s going on with her. Why do we need her? Why is she here? What’s her motivation?

I’m too drunk for this shit.

I'm going to bed.

Episode 8 - I'm Not Drunk Enough for This

(I detect a theme)

Okay so the hotel wifi is not awful, we gonna try watching icky with it. Always a challenge. Wish me luck!

Wouldn't it be fun if Mut has been conning Rak with this good guy persona the entire time and he really is just after money? I kinda love the idea.

Sadly, I think this is way more boring.

Rak is just a bitch, not even a sublime bitch, but a boring bitch. That's worse than a basic one.

The drama with the dad just seems manufactured. I mean what does the dad want except to be evil?

I mean I know what Mame wants, an excuse for Rak to break Mut's heart.

And now, I'm annoyed and hungry. Imma eat hotel snacks and disappointment in equal measure.

Episode 9 - Perhaps I'm the problem?

I did this already and then tumblr ate it so this time around it's not as witty. Trust me that in the first assessment I was all charm. Now I am all sarcasm.

I enjoyed the random fight scenes. At least something happened. Also the collapsing in his arms was very dramatic.

I can see why Mame reused this pair for this show, because Peat is so good at being broken & fragile (see previous role).

But also… I feel like I’ve seen all of this before. Oh right, the psychotic breakdown scene in TharnType. The fragile broken uke from Love By Chance. The seme with a heart of gold and fists of steel from… all of them. 

I find this exhausting.

Is anyone else exhausted?

They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again (AKA watching Mame) and expecting a different result. I must be certifiably bonkers at this juncture.

Second half of this show I begin to wonder one thing. (Well my mind wanders a lot but this particular thought bubbled to the surface.) 

Is this show actually an okay Thai BL?

Wait! Hear me out.

If this were ones first Meme, would it be… fine? In other words, if I didn’t have this storied (or lack of story, nash) history with her creative endeavors, would this bore me this much?

Is this actually just an average mildly enjoyable high-heat Thai BL to others, who are coming to her stuff for the first (or maybe the second) time?

Is it over-exposure or the has traumatized me in this way?

Am I corrupted through overindulgence?

Is this all my own fault?

Should I be taking a break from her? Should I not watch the next 3 productions that she does, and then return to her with fresh feelings of openness and amenable temper?

Is it me who is the problem? 

Yet the act of asking that last question makes me feel like I’m in the same kind of abusive relationship with Mame that Rak was with his father.

Then I feel like I need to drink more. Or see a therapist.

So that’s enough philosophy for one evening.

And then, at the very very end A THRILL DESCENDED UPON ME.

Watching the stinger for next weekI was all… 

Is this a 10 epper? Oh my God it is! Fantastic. Next week is the last one! I SEE THE LIGHT. 

Episode 10 - The Lingering Scent of Disappointment

Today I am drinking a soju cocktail. Which I can highly recommend. If you're a lightweight but you like vodka, Fresh Soju is actually a pretty decent substitute with a lower alcohol content. 

This has been your bartender lesson for today, moving on.

Wait. 

If the Maa could’ve fixed this all along by throwing the Dad in jail, why didn’t she? Why did she put her kids through all of this bullshit with stalking and abuse? Also the mom character was basically a deus ex machina, except she didn’t even happen on screen. It was action taken to solve what little plot there was... entirely off screen. How weird. I don’t even have a term for that. Bad writing? Recon explanation? Of screen resolution?

OK, Fort is acting so well in the breakup scene. I adore that “how much do I need to pay you to fall in love with me” parrots the original “how much do I need to pay you to sleep with me”. I must give props for that level of emotional manipulation in a romance drama of this type. 

That said, I feel for Rak, it’s rough to learn that someone else is playing a long game with feelings while you were playing a short game with d**k.

Meanwhile... I have run out of alcohol and I am now eating brownie bites. Because life (and d**k) is too short and so is my patience. 

Why is that tattoo so absolutely terribly obviously fake?

Someone take tattoos and wigs away from Thailand. Just strip them out of all wardrobe departments in the entire Thai film industry. Clearly they can’t handle that level of POWER. It’s giving me trauma.

I do like that the solution to the drama of the break up was an actual sincere and abject apology. Very mature and grown up of you Mame. 

I wish they’d woven the number 8 throughout more of the show, like into the pattern of Rak’s shirts and maybe an earring or cuff.

Did they entirely forget about the GL side not-plot? Or is it just me not paying attention because I’m distracted by brownie bites? 

Regardless, I genuinely let out the biggest yawn during the very ending scene. It’s nowhere near my bedtime.

And… that’s it I guess.

I’m going on the record at this point. I don’t think I can do a trash watch of Mame again. It’s exhausting. And also is it really worth my (or your) time? This screed was so lackluster.

Final thoughts? 

This is probably a solid 8/10 show but I’m mad I wasn’t madder at it, and mad I was so bored throughout.

So It gets a 7/10 and let us not speak of this again. I’d like to simply forget about it.

Conclusion? I’m left residually upset that FortPeat and all their talents are wasted on Mame. That seems unfair to them. And to us, quite frankly. 

************************************

All my trash watches are here:

(source)

[froggiewrites]

I know you’re not taking requests rn BUT if in the future you wouldn’t mind and think it’s fun: I was working and had disney’s mulan (1998 obviously) in the background, hadn’t watched in a while so I did laugh when mulan was practicing acting like a man and said “ha! I see you have a sword, I have one too! they’re very manly-” and just drops the sword. What if reader had to go undercover as swordsman somewhere and they ask zoro for help/pointers and they do this really bad act in front of him? or maybe it’s something like a first meeting kind of thing where the reader is trying to blend in to escape or something and encounters zoro, does this horrible act and ends up confessing and asking for help? I just think this would be hilarious bc zoro might seem and feel very offended but has probably experienced worse with the crew’s jokes and if feelings are involved he could be like “why am I attracted to this idiot?”, affectionately ofc lol

I had a lot of fun with this one, anon. Mulan is tied for my favorite Disney movie, so I was already super on board with this request, and then as I started writing it just started getting really silly. I hope you enjoy it!!

Make a (Swords)Man Out of You

Pairing: Zoro x Reader

SFW

Summary: Your attempt to go undercover as a master swordsman isn't going particularly well. A kind (if somewhat grumpy) stranger offers you some lessons to help keep up the ruse. Warnings: Fluff, Reader is a loser (affectionate) in this one, Zoro is also a bit of a loser Word Count: 2.5k

You were seriously going to get yourself killed.

You were convinced this was going to be easy. You’d tricked people before, and frankly, how hard could it be to use a sword? You don’t need to pretend to be the best swordsman, just a swordsman!

It turns out using a sword is, admittedly, kind of hard.

You couldn’t count on one hand the amount of times you had nearly cut yourself, or the blade had slipped from your hands, or you ended up not slicing through anything because you messed up your swing. You try to tell yourself over and over again that you don’t need to be the best, just mediocre, but you can’t even manage that at this point. You’re going to get caught. You’ve been undercover in this group for a week now, and you’ve managed to avoid any actual swordplay so far, but you can’t keep this up for long. Not only have you not found the treasure you wanted, you’re probably going to get your head sliced off before you find even a hint of it’s location. 

So here you are, in the middle of the night, trying and once again failing to make a dent on this stupid training dummy.

“You’re not holding it right.”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of a man’s voice behind you. You whip around to see another mysterious swordsman who showed up a few days ago and immediately wiped the floor with several members of the group. You had no idea why he was here, considering he didn’t seem nearly as interested in mindless violence or ill-gotten gains as the rest of the people here. You couldn’t quite recall his name.

“I know what I’m doing,” you grumble, unconvincingly.

“Oh yeah?” He has a smug grin on his face, one that just screams I know more than you and we both know it. “Will you show me, then?”

This is it. You’re caught, he’s going to tell, and you’re going to get sliced to a billion little pieces. You try to keep your cool, to steady your breath and lie through your teeth as you have been all week, but something about him just cuts to your core and you break. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

He takes a step back at the panic in your voice, immediately looking unsure at the sight of your tears. “I’m not–I–Stop crying!” He says it roughly, more of a command than anything else, which only makes you cry harder.

“Please, I don’t want them to kill me! I didn’t think it’d be this hard! I just wanted some treasure, is that so wrong? Life is expensive!” Your blubber would be embarrassing if you had any coherent thoughts through your fear.

“Who said anything about killing you?” He moves forward, his hand covering your mouth and muffling your sobs and panicked words. “And seriously, stop crying. You’re being too damn loud, you’re going to get yourself caught! God, it’s a wonder you haven’t been caught already. You’re so obvious I knew from the moment I walked in you were trying to run some kind of con.”

You try to ask him how he knew immediately, but the words don’t make it through his palm.

“Stop talking. It’s fine. No one’s going to kill you.”

You think he can hear you promise? through his hand.

“Yes, I promise. Just…stop.”

He frees your mouth, and you take a deep and steadying breath.

“So why are you pretending to be a swordsman?”

“These bandits have been stealing a lot from people here, and I heard they stole a big priceless artifact from a nobleman. I figure if I get that, I can get off the island, sell it, and be set for life.”

“So you said you were a master swordsman?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t think about lying about anything more believable?”

“They said they needed one. And I didn’t think I’d be this bad at it.”

He closes his eyes, pondering a moment. “You do seem pretty uniquely terrible at this.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“No problem.”

You try to steady your breath, and while you do, he takes your hands in his, turning them over and glaring at them as though they were an insult.

“Why are they so soft?”

“What?”

“Your hands. They’re too soft. You don’t have a single callus.”

“Why are you saying that like it’s a bad thing?”

“It means you don’t do anything with them. It means you definitely don’t hold a sword. If anyone here were capable you’d have been out on your ass day one.”

“I don’t think most people would notice that.”

“Any decent swordsman would. You’re damn lucky I’m the only one here.”

You want to scoff, to ask him what makes him so qualified, but you know he could sound the alarm at any moment, and it’s stupid to piss off a man who holds your life in his hands. “Why haven’t you turned me in already?”

He scoffs. “Why would I?”

“They’d probably give you a reward or something. You don’t get anything out of helping me.”

“What, are you trying to convince me to do it?”

Your heart clenches, your voice raising with fear. “No!”

He shushes you harshly. “God, it was a joke! Be quiet!”

You shrink in on yourself, covering your mouth before he gets the chance.

He sighs. “You’re terrible at this. Why the hell did you think you could keep up this act?”

“I’ve tricked people before!”

“Did those people have swords?”

“...No.”

“Did you keep up an act for weeks at a time?”

“Well–”

“Yes or no.”

“...No.”

He pinches his forehead, muttering something under his breath about an idiot you remind him of, and you pout indignantly. 

“I’m not an idiot!”

“Oh yeah? Because everything I’ve seen tonight has been pretty dumb.”

“Okay, well why are you here then, genius?”

He goes quiet, his eyes sliding away from yours.

“What, no answer?”

He mumbles something.

“What was that?”

You can barely hear the words, almost lost as he whispers them, his head tilted down in embarrassment. “I got lost.”

You can’t help the bark of a laugh that leaves you. “What?”

“I got lost! I was going to find my ship and I got turned around, so I decided to stay and see what this place was about! So what?”

“You got lost so you decided to join a group of bandits? And you’ve been here for days! Don’t you have anybody looking for you?”

“They’ll show up eventually!”

“Why didn’t you just ask for directions?”

“I don’t need directions!”

“Clearly, you do!”

You both groan in unison at the other, fighting frustration. You aren’t in much of a position to judge, but how could a person be more helpless? At least you got yourself into trouble on purpose.

“Where is your ship supposed to be docked?”

“I don’t remember exactly, it was near an opera house.”

“An…opera house?”

“Yeah?”

You cannot believe this is happening. “We don’t have one of those.”

“What?”

“There isn’t an opera house on this island. The closest one is a day’s ferry trip away. How the hell did you get here?”

“I walked.”

“That literally cannot be true! Like physically!”

“Well it is! So you must have forgotten!”

“Forgotten about the layout of the island I’ve lived my entire life on? Really?”

“God, you’re so annoying. I can’t believe I was going to help you.”

You pause. “You were going to help me? With what?”

“With swordplay! Obviously! You can’t even hold the damn thing right, you clearly need it.” He’s pouting, his lower lip jutted out like a child about to throw a tantrum. You just barely hold yourself back from telling himself that. As fun as it may be to taunt him, you really do need the help.

You can swallow your pride for the night. If everything works out, maybe you can make fun of him for this later. “...Would you still be willing to help me?”

“Why should I?”

“I can get you back to your ship. After I get the treasure, I mean.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“No offense, but you definitely do. And I kind of want to go with you anyway. I’m a little worried you’ll just walk off into the ocean if I don’t.”

He glares at you, eyes raking up and down your form, considering for a moment. He sighs. “Fine, I guess I can help.”

You feel hopeful for the first time in a while. Your new friend, who informs you his name is Zoro, seems rather skilled. Maybe this plan won’t get you killed after all!

Two days later you’re kicking yourself for daring to think that even for a second.

“How the hell are you still doing it wrong?” His hands are on your back again, adjusting your posture for the twentieth time today. “How hard can it be just to swing a sword?”

“It’s not! I’ve been swinging it this whole time!” You aggressively bring the blade down on the training dummy you two had stolen for your lessons. Zoro had thought you would need a day at most to get the basics down, but you were nearing the end of day two and making absolutely no progress.

He sighs, wrapping his arms around you, pressing his chest to your back as he adjusts your hold. You try not to blush as you ask, “What are you doing?”

“Fixing your hold. Come on, we’re going to swing it together. Clearly just telling you isn’t working, but maybe this will.” He puts his hands over yours, and you feel the heat radiating off of him. You try to focus on the movement as he guides you, but you can’t help but be distracted by the feeling of his muscles against your back. “Did you get that?”

“Huh?” You’re so grateful he can’t see your face right now. “Sorry, uh, can we do that one more time?”

Instead of making fun of you or complaining, he simply guides you through the motion again, going slow to ensure you understand every step, before repeating it again closer to a normal speed. “Did you get it?”

“I…think so. Maybe.”

He chuckles, and you can feel the rumble of his chest against your back. “Alright. Try it yourself, now.”

You do, and for once, the sword flies through the air with ease, and makes a sizable slash in the dummy. You stare for a moment, dumbfounded, before you drop the sword and whirl around to face him. “I did it!” You can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around him.

“Wha–Hey! Don’t drop your sword!” Despite his scolding tone of voice, his arms are gentle as they wrap around you, lifting you up slightly. “...But that was good.”

Is that a hint of red at the tips of his ears?

No, of course not. It couldn’t be.

He sets you down, picking up the sword and placing it back in your hand. “Now do it again. If you can do something as simple as that, you can probably keep up the facade long enough to find your treasure.”

You do the motion ten, twenty, then thirty more times while Zoro watches on with satisfaction. “You know, I could probably make a real swordsman out of you if we had the time.”

You laugh. “Maybe you could. I don’t have anywhere to be after this. Does your ship have room for one more?”

You say it as a joke, but you can see on his face that for a moment, he genuinely considers the possibility. “It’s a big ship. You’d have to get approval from my Captain, though.”

“Do you think I could?”

“He’d love you.” He smiles fondly. “You’re just as reckless as he is. And you’d get along with everyone else, too. Nami would appreciate having someone else who knows the value of a Berry around. Usopp would love how gullible you are. And that cook…” He makes a quiet noise of disgust. “Anyway, you’d fit right in.”

You can see the affection radiating off of him as he talks about his friends. You can’t help but smile back at him. “They sound nice.”

“They have their moments.”

You sheathe your sword, rolling out your shoulders and neck. “Well, I think I only have a bit to go before I get the treasure. I’m so close I can taste it. I bet I can find it by tonight.”

“Here’s hoping. As you are now, you’d still get caught the moment you got put into a real battle. We have to find it quickly.”

You freeze, your heart pounding a little faster. “...We?”

“Yeah?” He looks at you like it’s obvious.

“You’re coming with me?”

“You thought I wouldn’t?”

“I don’t know! You never said you were going to!”

“I thought it was obvious. We’re going to go in, grab the treasure, and run like hell.”

You don’t like the way he simplifies it, but you have to admit that’s basically your entire plan. “And then I take you back to your ship?”

“It’d be hard for you to join if you didn’t.”

You can’t hide your shock. “You were serious?”

“Were you not?”

“I mean–I’d like to, but–”

“If you want to, then there’s no but. It’s settled.” He says it so easily. You wonder where he gets the confidence to speak things into existence like that, to say things as though they’re sure to happen simply because he wills it. His next words are spoken as an afterthought, as though they left his mouth before he even realized they were coming. “That’s good. I didn’t really want to let you go.”

“Huh?” Your face is definitely red now.

“Huh?” His face might be redder than yours.

“Did you–”

“No, definitely not.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He sharply turns around. “We have a treasure to go steal.”

Well, if he isn’t going to be brave about this, you suppose you’ll have to. You wouldn’t survive the tension-filled boat ride over otherwise. “Oh, the brave swordsman is running away?”

You see his shoulders tense, and you know you got him. “I am not running away.”

“Then why aren’t you looking at me, Zoro?” You keep your voice teasing and sickly sweet.

He slowly turns, desperately avoiding your eyes.

“You still aren’t loo–”

Before you can finish your taunt, chapped lips are pressed against yours. It’s jarring and all too brief, gone before you even realize it was there. By the time you can blink, he’s backed away again, stalking off with a purpose. “Come on. We’re losing daylight.”

“That’s the wrong way.”

He turns back around without a word, rushing past you. You can’t help the goofy little grin that makes its way onto your lips. You won’t tell him, not now, but you didn’t really want to let him go quite yet either.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

[homunculus-argument]

Why are you Finns so miserable? From an outside perspective, as someone who lives in a country where our government has continuously failed us, your country seems to be nearly perfect. It seems like paradise.

I truly feel that most people living in my country would kill to live in one like yours. I would saw off my leg if it meant that I could have the guaranteed quality of life that you guys have.

So why are you guys so sad? Is it the cold? The lack of sunlight? I’m seriously at a loss here, because I feel like you guys really take your homeland for granted.

I have no idea. Being alive is simply an unpleasant obligation and a thankless duty that you owe to nobody in particular and gain nothing out of doing. I was literally born as an unpleasant obligation - my parents didn't like each other and they didn't like children, but they married each other and had two kids because that's what people are supposed to do. When we whined as kids about how we don't want to go to school, they'd just say "well I don't want to go to work, either, but unfortunately that's just what life is." Life consists of going places you don't want to go to do things you don't want to do.

My mother once told me that if I ever kill myself, she will go completely insane, just the way that my grandmother went insane when my aunt killed herself. I was like 15 at the time when she told me this, I had been three years old when the aforementioned aunt died. I had never known her, but I was raised with the understanding that the only reason to continue being alive is peer pressure. You don't get to die, you have to keep living because the people around you would be sad if you quit. It's a mutual hostage situation.

Back when the church had more power and death penatly was a thing, there were people who committed crimes that had a death penalty (or claimed to have committed them, depending on the crime) in order to get executed rather than simply commit suicide, because suicide was an unforgivable sin but if you were executed, you could still confess your sins before the final blow and die with hopes of going to heaven.

Finns aren't oblivious of how bad things are everywhere else, or how good we have it. That, too, is a source of misery. It's a whole country of "you have no reason to be sad, there are people out there with real problems" and being reminded that everything everywhere else is even more miserable than how we have it. That anyone else would be ready to kill or saw off their own leg to get to be here, and here we are squandering all this potential by sitting here like a miserable little piece of shit.

Frankly, I am baffled by the concept that there really are people who just genuinely, honestly, wholeheartedly want to live. Like as a preferrable option to having never been born at all. To me, finding happiness in life has always been a "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade" sort of thing, finding silver linings out of the unfortunate matter that I happened to be born.

[scientia-rex]

Long ask. I didn't see that you had answered anything similar.

How do I do activism? Yes, I could Google it, but I would rather learn from a stranger with claimed yet unverifiable experience on Tumblr than from a stranger with claimed yet unverifiable experience anywhere else, and I'm here and so are you and we can talk and have a [para]social interaction. I won't bore you with a condensed autobiography, but I have a lot of experience fixing mistakes, not unlike being a physician, but far less noble, what David Graber would call a "duct-taper". It's partly what led me to socialism. I fixed mistakes but could not fix the root causes and, when I investigated those causes, I ran into structure. I couldn't explain the human behavior I witnessed as human nature, because it wasn't my nature and, as far as I know, I'm human, so the only explanation I could come up with was that the structure of the company I worked for created the problems I was trying to solve, and I had no power to change that structure, and no desire to join the psychopaths failing up the corporate ladder. I expanded my thinking outward and saw the problem inherent in capitalism and all the associated -isms and -archies, all the while trying to figure out what I could do that could possibly change any of it. I dove into progressive politics, read theory, consumed all the lefty content I could find, and thought, and keep running into the same problems. But even if the root causes cannot be addressed, the effects still need to be, because the effects are people, hence activism.

How do I talk to congresspeople? I email them about issues, but am frankly afraid to call them. Shall I get voice mail, or does a person pick up? If the latter, I'm assuming it will be a secretary. I don't want to be mean to a person answering phones. I've been one of those people getting yelled at or threatened because of events I did not cause and could not possibly prevent or change and, maybe I'm oversensitive or have PTSD or just a hyperactive amygdala, but I cannot overstate the damage those negative experiences cause. Sure, in the grand scheme of things, the lives that can be saved or improved outweigh a few people's hurt feelings or possible psychological trauma, but I would prefer not to turn this into a trolley problem if at all possible. Maybe it's a stupid question. Maybe I'm overthinking it. I can be charming and I have no lack of empathy; I can politely disagree. Shall I have to argue with anyone? Or is it a thank-you-for-your-participation-I-will-tell-the-congressperson-have-a-nice-day situation?

How do I get a job doing good things for people? This is somewhat pressing as I quit my corporate job five years ago, to have what turned out to be a midlife crisis, and have been living off savings (that are running out) ever since. I want to help and don't want to be ashamed of what I do for a living. I've always been able to do anything I've ever tried to do, but I'm 45 with little formal education or qualifications, and am thinking it's maybe too late to go back to school. Most of the non-profits I see seem like little more than scams. And perhaps the most serious complication: I'm a loner, more out of habit than inclination. I'll spare you the background, but I have no connections and no idea how to make them, and I don't believe I have any particular skills so valuable that should confer an immediate advantage or demand for my labor, but then again I don't know what is in demand.

It's OK if you can't answer some of these things. I simply have no one to talk to about them who can give any actual advice and figured you might. Thanks.

How to do activism: The first thing you need to know is your axe to grind. It was easy for me. I've been out since I was 13, nobody ever believes a girl is bisexual, it's always "you want attention" or "you're secretly a lesbian." That was in 1997. I went through hell and I'm bitter about it. So when I realized I liked medicine, I realized I could turn my life into an extended revenge arc by moving home and telling everybody it's OK to be gay. Two birds, one stone. I work with a woman who didn't get her axe to grind until about three years ago. She realized she was fed up with people abandoning dogs. She's one of the most active volunteers at the local shelter now. She's saved a lot of dogs' lives. She didn't start out knowing anything about it, but she told the shelter she wanted to volunteer, and they've helped her grow through the rest of it. My husband works with the local food bank, because his mom's neighbor (who is a family friend and sweetheart) wrangled him in to serving on the board, so now in addition to board meetings once a month he goes in sometimes to do things like help his mom's friend unload trucks. Sometimes the cause picks you, sometimes you pick the cause, sometimes you are the cause. And no matter what the cause is, someone else is already working on it. Someone else already cares deeply and if you show up ready to be hands on and help out, with humility because you know that you don't know everything, they will help you learn how to be effective. I started out in medicine by volunteering at the emergency room near where I lived. I pushed a linen cart around and restocked gowns in rooms, and when I couldn't fit any more washcloths into drawers I cleaned doorknobs. One of the nurses once told me she really appreciated that I cleaned all the doorknobs, because it wasn't getting regularly done. I am in medicine now because of many, many people I asked for help and who helped me because they wanted to contribute to justice and equity in medicine, whether for queers or rural people or women. This is, and has always been, a combined effort. Alone we beg, together we bargain.

Calling elected representatives: Oh god I know, me too, calling strangers is the LITERAL WORST. I'm 40 and I'd rather pepper-spray myself than argue with a human on the phone. Wait until after hours and you'll get a voicemail. I like to leave voicemails that start with "My name is Dr. Rex, I'm a constituent of yours, and I VOTE, and I'm calling about ____." That's honestly about all it takes--when I was hanging out with the lobbyist she told me they keep lists with tick-marks for how many calls, emails, etc., they get on a topic. Calls count for more. The more effort you have to put in, the more engaged they know you are. So call, but if people scare you (and the people who pick up are almost always nice, if you do get a person, and they will 99/100 times say "thank you for your call, we will pass your concerns along to so-and-so"), call at night.

Going back to school is probably unnecessary. Spin your past experience aggressively and start applying to nonprofits. (You "took time off from the working world in order to sharpen your focus on what matters most to you," which will be whatever this particular group does.) It's OK if you pick a bad one to start with; most of them are shit-shows, and lots of them still accomplish good things. Nonprofits are a bloodbath when it comes to actually being an employee--they know that part of the compensation is the sense of living ethically and they will use your altruism against you--so keep your resume updated and be prepared to bail if grant funding doesn't come through, but most areas have food banks and pet shelters and human shelters and jails and medical clinics and hospitals (for every doctor who works at the local hospital there are at least 10 support staff by the numbers, and they are utterly critical and always under-staffed). Sometimes if you start by volunteering somewhere, once they realize you're dependable, you can get a job there. I am zero percent kidding about working for a hospital, clinic, or jail, by the way. Those are places I know well, and there are always civilian jobs available. You want to make a patient's day better? Be the front desk, front line staff who use the right pronouns and cheer them up.

I think it's completely reasonable to have procedural questions about how all of this works, and I am grateful to you for giving me a chance to talk about it a bit. Please feel free to ask any follow-up questions. And for reference, when I was just starting out in research at a time when the market for research-trained people frankly sucked, I applied well over 300 times and got well over 300 rejections (I was counting) before I ended up with a job that I loved (even though it was hellishly stressful and I made just barely more than minimum wage for working well over my alleged, salaried "hours") and felt like I was making a positive difference for the world with. And from there, I kept making changes as I realized what I wanted and needed. Just keep doing it. You don't have to feel good about every step, you don't have to know what you're doing, just keep putting one foot in front of the other as you try to figure out what will make you happy. Because nothing else is a good proxy for happiness, and happiness, for a whole lot of humans, means finding something meaningful to do in life. Helping others. Be okay with changing, be okay with sacrificing who you are right now for the sake of who you can become. You've survived four decades on this bizarre and cruel planet, and you have inherent, intrinsic worth as a human being. You deserve your own kindness.

[altern1a]

With cohost closing, do you have any ideas of where alterhumans (particularly adults frankly) even meet up/find each other? or is it just discord servers and accidentally finding someone is althu in passing. Sucks that it's so hard to find community.

Alterhumans are everywhere, you just have to be willing to put yourself out there! It's so easy to miss each other when we can't recognize each other.

I will deeply, dearly miss cohost. It was unique and beautiful for how safe and easy it was to be openly alterhuman. But it was never my main platform for meeting people.

You mentioned discord servers, and yes, those are really really good for socializing! You will naturally be limited on who you can find but it's fantastic for forming bonds with whoever you do find. (May I plug Alterdirect for finding servers?)

Here on Tumblr, there are active tags you can follow to find a lot more of us. #alterhuman is a good place to start, of course. I recommend following the tags for any identity you want to meet people with. For example, I currently follow #alterhuman #otherkin #therian #fictionkin #fictionfolk and quite a few more specific ones.

If you're fictionfolk and looking for sourcemates, another thing you can do here on Tumblr is submit a canoncall to any relevant blog that accepts them. There are a lot of general canoncall blogs and some sources have "kin help" blogs that do source-specific canoncalls and some other things. Results definitely vary with canoncalls; if someone has made a discord server for fictionfolk from your source that's usually a bit better, but since not everyone is on discord you can always do both.

Something that's really started taking off in the last few years is online conventions! Tons of alterhumans that are otherwise quiet and hard to find will show up to these. @otherconvention is the biggest one and the one I personally recommend the most, but it is no longer the only option so look around! If you have trouble finding other conventions, they often advertise in the off season server for Othercon.

There is also tons of alterhuman activity outside of big centralized platforms. Older ways of connecting never really fell out of favor with the community and there's also been a big resurgence due to The Everything. Forums are a really good alternative to discord if you're good with the slower pace and lack of a dedicated app. The biggest alterhuman forum I'm familiar with is Nonhuman National Park and smaller forums advertise there so it's definitely where I recommend starting. There are also many, many personal websites, and even more going up post-cohost. A good place to start finding those is the Alterhuman Summoning Circle webring.

The larger alterhuman community is evasive and tries to stay off the radar, for obvious reasons. But once you've gotten into it, it's surprisingly well interconnected. We really like being able to find each other!

I also have a dedicated resource I'm working on to help those who aren't as enmeshed (and even those who are!) find the living alterhuman communities where they can actually meet each other. I'm not as good about keeping it up to date as I'd like to be but you can find it here: The Alterhuman Web

Thank you for reaching out to me about this, it's one of my favorite topics! It's not right for us to feel alone when there are really so many of us. We are stronger together!

I'm also going to loop in @who-is-page and @a-dragons-journal in case they have anything they want to add that I forgot about! Lemme know if you don't wanna be tagged in stuff like this. Also, anyone else who wants to can add their thoughts too, obviously.

[starleska]

So what I get is that most fans are spreading rumors about clown being hacked or putting words in his mouth, and some are treating him like a child who needs to be protected at all cost (which is kinda creepy behavior). And this is happening because he made a NSFW tag, right? What a way to wake up to.

hello anon! yes, you've hit the nail on the head - i'm so sorry that this was what you woke up to! it certainly had my heart rate up for a bit 😭💖 here's the situation (apologies for the long post):

Clown has now made an official separate tag for NSFW content, #PlayfellowXXX. this is excellent! much like Toby Fox did with the #Undertail tag, NSFW fanworks creators now have a separate space to place their work, meaning that individuals who don't want to see that content don't need to.

Wally Darling and Frank Frankly Voice Actor F. Frankie Frankenstein confirmed that this was real, and a decision made by the Welcome Home team.

this was quickly corroborated by Clown, who said that they have not been hacked, and he just needed some time to adjust to all of the new attention. they also found the whole outcry quite funny!

after this, Welcome Home team member Anonymous Puzzler also said that this was a mutual decision between the team, and specifically said that it wasn't coerced in any way. she also confirmed that NSFW was never prohibited in the first place - it was just asked to be private while they worked everything out.

during this time, there were a variety of reactions from people. many were elated; some were confused; others were angry and/or upset. some believed Clown was hacked; others believed he was coerced; others acknowledged its veracity, but were saddened/angered all the same.

to recap: NSFW content has never been banned, according to the Welcome Home team: they just wanted time to work out the best way to protect younger people and those who don't want to see that kind of content in an enormous fandom. the team's preference is now for all Welcome Home NSFW content to go under the tag #PlayfellowXXX. this is a decision Clown and the team have reached organically, without coercion, and for the betterment of the fandom.

there is a significant portion of folks who are distressed by this news, and who are assigning thoughts and feelings onto Clown without knowing him personally. i don't think this is terribly healthy. it's okay if you don't like NSFW fanworks; having a separate tag means you can block/blacklist, and not have to see it!

personally, i think this is a wonderful idea. i'm saddened by the backlash NSFW creators are receiving in the wake of this news - especially as someone who received some of that hate, despite never having made NSFW content for Welcome Home!

i'm also baffled by the repeated assertion that Clown has somehow been coerced into this decision by 'porn-addicted weirdos'. the Welcome Home fandom has been extraordinarily respectful of the private NSFW rule...now, it's okay for people to make NSFW content for Welcome Home, guys. we literally got the green light 😅

the creator is an adult, the characters are adults, and it's a horror project which will deal with mature themes. this really is the best way the team could've handled this kind of project suddenly getting an enormous audience with a lot of younger people! no one is 'more deserving' of being in the fandom, and no one is 'better' than anyone else for making or not making a certain kind of fanwork. certainly, no one 'owns' a tag, character, or fandom - it is a courtesy to have a separate space so that people can avoid NSFW content if they want to.

at the end of the day, i hope those who are upset get a chance to rest, and realise this isn't the end of the world. i understand how hard this might be, especially if NSFW content is a real no-go for you. but everyone's fandom experience is different, and i promise you, the NSFW creators aren't making that content just to make you, personally, feel bad! 💖 if you see someone posting in the wrong tag, or who has outdated information, just politely let them know, or mute/block/scroll on as you need to.

now, i realise i'm breaking my own rule about not weighing in on discourse...but i have so many Welcome Home followers and wanted to make this easily accessible 🙏 i hope this clears up any questions people have.

to the NSFW creators - have fun! to those who'd rather not see NSFW content - take care of yourself! i hope you all have a wonderful day :3c

[yeaimsafiya]

CHAPTER ONE back from rehab

SYNOPSIS the beginning of a teenage girl named y/n who is fresh out of rehab but doesn't intend to stay clean.

FROM THE WRITER AHH IM SORRY IM LATE GUYS!! This is the first chapter I'm ever writing, I took some inspo from episode 1 but I'm going to have to cut each episode into fourths because I really don't want to spend a whole week trying to finish a whole episode and school work. But I hope you guys really enjoy this chapter as much as I did - Love you guys, Sapiyah <3

WARNINGS Lots of unnecessary writing, female! reader, mentions of drugs and drinking, strong sexual content, nudity, violence, adult content, adult language, scenes might be uncomfortable for some, some scenes might include mentions of mental illness'

SERIES EUPHORIA

CHARACTERS INCLUDED members of the bakusquad & dekusquad, big three(?), some characters of class 1A

NOTES MDNI! Ageless blogs will be blocked or removed.

Readers discretion is advised

Suddenly, the whole world goes dark and nothing else matters except the person standing in front of you.

You were once happy. Content.

Sloshing and swimming around your own private, primordial pool; Then one day, for reasons beyond your control, you were continuously and repeatedly crushed...

Over..and over.. again by the cervix of your mother, M/n.

You put up a good fight, but eventually lost, for the first time, but not the last.

You were born 3 days after 9/11, your mother and father spent two days in the hospital, holding you under the soft glow of the television, watching those towers fall over and over again, until the feeling of grief gave away to numbness.

And then, without warning, a middle-class childhood in the American suburbs.

|

You were sitting at the dinner table with your mother, M/n, and Father, F/n. But it appeared something else had gotten your attention, a set of numerous lights above the dinner table, in which you wanted to count.

"Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen.."

" What are you looking at y/n?"

"..."

"What are you doing? ..Y-y/n look at me."

"One, two, three, .."

"What are you doing Y/n?"

*cries*

|

"Id say she's suffering from obsessive compulsive disorder..."

Its not like you were physically abused..

"...attention deficit disorder..."

..Or had some type of clean water storage..

"..general anxiety disorder.."

..Or was molested by a family member.

"..and possibly bipolar disorder. But she's a little bit too young to tell."

So, explain this shit to me.

|

"Honey, it's just the way your brain was hardwired; Plenty of great, intelligent, funny, interesting and creative people have struggled with the same things you struggle with."

"Like who?"

"Vincent Van Gogh, Sylvia Plath, and even Brittney Spears, your favorite!"

You haven't remembered much from the ages of eight to twelve. Just that the world moved fast, and your mind moved slow.

"Does anyone have an idea of what a perception might be?"

And every now and then, if you focused on the way you breathed...

You'd die.

"Slow down, just breathe"

Until every second of the day, you'd find yourself trying to outrun your anxiety.

"What's wrong Y/n?"

..And quite frankly..

"I'm just fucking exhausted"

|

Coming down to the kitchen, you could hear the small talk between your mother and younger sister, S/N.

"You said the doctor was in our network. How can he suddenly be out of network?"

"I can't afford it."

"Did you see that video of the girl who got acid thrown at her face?"

"What? No.."

"It's pretty fucked up.."

"Mom do you know where the tampons are?"

"In my bathroom, right under the sink."

And at one point, you'd make a choice of who you are and what you want.

"Alright Gia, let's go"

"Why do the co-payments cost $300?"

"Y/n did you eat breakfast?"

".."

"What's with the glasses?"

"What glasses?"

You just happened to show up one day, without a map or a compass..

"Attention students, we need to lockdown."

..Or to be honest, anyone capable of giving on iota of good fucking advice.

And I know it all seems sad but guess what? You did not build this system up, nor fuck it up yourself.

But then it happens. That moment where your breath starts to slow. And every time you breathe, you breathe out all the oxygen you have.

Then everything stops: Your heart, your lungs, then finally, your brain. And everything you feel, you wish, and want to forget, it all just sinks.

And then suddenly... you give it air again, give it life again.

You remember the first time it happened, where you were so scared you wanted to call 911. Go to the hospital and be kept alive by machines and apple juice. But you didn't want to look like an idiot, and you didn't want to fuck up everyone else's night.

And now overtime, that's all you've wanted.. those two seconds of nothingness.

You spent a good portion of summer before junior year in rehab. God granted you the serenity to accept things you cannot change, the courage to change the things you can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

"Y/N," your sister yelled from afar, greeting you after your long leave. You smiled, and whilst running up to her, tried to continue the conversation with your younger sibling.

"Hey, Come here!"

"How are you?"

"Good, I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"Look at you, are you growing?"

"No."

Looking over, you see your mother standing by your family car.

"Hey," you yelled out to her, only to receive a small smile from her.

And with that. you knew it was your time to go.

|

"I'm very happy for you Y/n. You're about to start a brand-new chapter," Your mother says while driving you and your sister to school. You looked at her with a smile, then turned your attention back to the car window.

You had no intentions of staying clean. And yet, Jirou just moved into town.

"There's some new girl in town that I think you'll be friends with," Shoto said, with you standing beside him in his store.

"Who?"

"Shit, I don't know. She came in looking all punk rock and shit; So I'm thinking to myself, like, 'look like somebody Y/n would be friends with'."

Which was sort of a dead-on observation for Shoto, who's not normally revolving in the same direction as planet earth.

"So how long have you been back?" He asked.

"About five days."

"And how are you feeling?"

"I mean, ever since I gave my life over to my lord and savior Jesus Christ, things have been, like, really good."

"Word? That's what's up," You chuckled at his snarky remark, giving him a small smile.

"I'm fucking with you," you said whilst laughing, "It was a joke."

"Shit, hey, I don't judge," he defended, hands raising to just above his chest.

"But for real, is Deku in the back?"

"Are you serious?" Shoto questioned, seeming very disappointed in you.

"What, you think cause' I went to rehab I stayed clean?"

"I mean, ain't that the point?" he asks.

"Yeah, well, the world is coming to an end, and I haven't even graduated high school yet."

You gave Shoto one more smile before going to Deku, whilst Shoto stared at you the entire way there; There was a hint of sadness in his eyes, but since you were too busy looking for Deku, you didn't see.

You opened one of the doors of the refrigerators, leading you right to him with a bowl of fruit loops,"I thought your ass was dead," he said one he saw your appearance.

"And I thought you had Asperger's till I realized your just a prick," you barked back.

"This a fickle industry, y'all come and go. I'm just trying to stack my cash, pay off our mortgage," he said while pulling out a bunch of plastic bags out of a microwave.

"So what the fuck do you want?" You gave him a knowing look before he handed you needed.

"You sure you don't want to try something new?" He asks you.

"Like what?"

"2C-T-2, 2C-T-7, and 5-MeO-DIPT."

"I'm sorry I have no fucking idea of what you just said."

"It doesn't matter," he stated, "but this shit, is fucking lit."

"What is it?"

"N-diisopropyl-5-methoxytryptamine. It's a fast-acting psychedelic."

Got some similarities to LSD, but with, like, key differences. Not as visual as shit, but definitely a sense distorter.

"What's wrong?" That same dark purple hair girl questioned.

"I'm just so happy," you responded back.

"I don't know, this shits been going off in Tampa, and mad people like to fuck with this," Deku continued on with his descriptions with the drug.

"Okay. Yeah, why not."

"That'll be 120."

"Oh uh, Shoto said he'd spot me."

"Shoto doesn't spot nobody."

"Yeah, well, it's a post-rehab discount, so you should ask him."

"I will go ask him, cause' I know your full of shit."

Those were the last words he said before you walked out. Those were the last words you heard before you saw the same two boys in freshman year.

Bakugo and Kirishima.

TAGLIST: (send an ask or reply to add or remove) @urinejaeger, @saturxnn, @lv9su, @minnipe, @flamgosstuff, @lilrockzstar, @actfsgxcv, @lovebuggyboo, @russochild19, @iits-lexie, @mendez5657, @animatronicrat, @thirstygorl, @scrittynotfound, @pleaseleavemebelol, @thymebread, @cocojellie, @vxnanaaa-blog, @tn-johnson, @knotatwink, @hpttstears, @blackcatluna, @queennb-123, @nndntahg

All work is subject to copyright by © yeaimsapiyah as of 2024.

Do not steal, use or reupload my work without given permission or my consent. If so, you will either be blocked, removed, or reported.

[bambinella]

Rumors pt 2

I recently made a post to address the ongoing situation, and I feel like I have to address it yet again, since it’s getting out of hand. 

First of all, I want to apologize to everyone that got involved in this mess, especially the tickle community. I’ve been part of this community for many years now, and I’m enraged by all the hate all of you are receiving by this anon. None of you should be in this situation, and I definitely want to get out of it. I’ve been trying to keep this wildfire contained, but anon is targeting literally anyone right now, be it people who follow me or people who’ve never heard of me before.

In my previous post I mentioned that I suspect ticklee25 to be behind the anon hate, but I didn’t specify or clarify why. Since I still think it’s her, I will explain my thoughts on the why. I’m aware that the messages are still anonymous, so I cannot say with 100% certainty that it’s her, but there are certain details I wish to address.

For starters, the anon hate started on the day I blocked her. ticklee25 and I chatted on discord for a while, and after she became rude, insulted me and my interests and started calling me several times in the middle of the night, knowing of our 5 hour difference, I removed her as a friend. The next day she reached out on tumblr asking me why, yet since I was out all day I hadn’t seen it so I didn’t respond. Then I came back to another message where she was gaslighting me into being a bad friend, which ended with ‘bye’. I removed her as a friend on tumblr too and simply deleted the conversation, since I thought that was gonna be the end of it. Alas, it was not. When she returned with yet another message to insult me some more, I blocked her. That’s when the hateful rumors started spreading. At the time I had no idea I'd have to take screenshots to collect proof, so this is all I have on this matter.

Secondly, some of the anon hate messages had my real name in it. Since my name is not on my tumblr page, you’ll only know my name if you either know me in real life or if we chatted. This indicates that the anon hate is being spread by someone I talked to before. I have no quarrel on tumblr with anyone else, so this points yet again in her direction. Seems a little too suspicious to me to be a coincidence.

The first anonymous message (as far as I know) was sent to my close friend @otomiyaa, which claimed that I was a pedophile. It quite frankly shocked me since I was not prepared for the anonymous hate. I naively thought it would stay with that simple message, and then I thought it would stay with otomiyaa. For a while it did, as she kept receiving several anonymous messages which insulted me. It went from me being a pedophile, to being fat and ugly, to being a shitty writer, which heavily reminded me of the last message I’d received from ticklee25. Then it started spreading to other people, since anon didn’t get the satisfaction of a reply. They first targeted everyone who interacted with me, and when those accounts defended me they moved on to people that don’t follow me and minors.

I have an entire list of rumors being spread about me, from very serious to simply stupid, but it sadly didn’t stay with just rumors. Anon here took it upon themselves to send anonymous messages warning everyone that I spread hate into the tickle community, only to send the hateful anonymous message themselves while tagging me in it. Most people instantly realized that it would be really stupid to send an anonymous message and tag yourself in it, so they knew it wasn’t actually me sending the messages. Here are some examples:

Another thing I have noticed is how, despite me blocking ticklee25, the anonymous hate continued being sent. Some argued that this was a good enough reason for me to change my mind, that it couldn’t be her. However, after looking into it I noticed how several blogs, who were reblogging hate about me, hadn’t even been up for 24 hours, or spammed within mere seconds of each other. Very suspicious again. Some of these blogs are lifeisstrangeenthusiast, swiftlyticklish and ticklelover5.

So, I simply want to clarify some things. I am not a pedophile. I have not been sending hate to people from the tickle community. I have not been sending hate towards minors. I have never forced someone to do something they’re uncomfortable with. I am not a groomer. I am not trying to steal your partner. There may be more rumors, but these are the ones I wanted to address. And to be perfectly clear, I am not the jesus anon.

If you get messages like these, please know that it’s not me. I literally have no reason to spread hate, and I don’t want to stoop to this level. Like I said before, I’m only here for fanart, fanfics and da gays. 

I turn myself directly to the anon now. I suspect you've created multiple accounts to keep spreading hateful messages, no matter how many times I’ve blocked you. You could have reached out to me and spared everyone the pain, but you wanted to cancel me so badly so instead you decided to make it everyone’s problem, even going as far as targeting minors. You’re pathetic. I’ve taken the next step, and unlike you I do have screenshots to back me up.

Lastly, I want to thank everyone who has backed me up over these past 6 weeks. You’ve all helped me more than you realize, and I love each and every one of you. I'm super grateful.

@otomiyaa @rach-amber @thebest-medicine @whatsjulietslastname @amazingmsme @turtlee-rockin @toweroftickles @wild-lee-ticklish @softleesam @fluffomatic @ticklerfluff @atlaslunacozycorner @a-ticklish-banshee @objectfromthesky @kaseylovesbayley @knizmokat @wheezylee-jay

Longest post of my life, but it had to happen. I hope we can end the bs now, because I'm honestly done with it.

Update: I didn't have to wait long, as suspected, until someone was getting pissy about my post. @ticklelover5 decided to spread screenshots of random conversation with ticklee25 before the drama started, which only confirmed my suspicions that they're the same account and same person. Thing is, all her replies somehow have mysteriously disappeared! Shocker. So it looks like I'm just talking to myself like a fool. And this somehow adds to her cancel campaign? Proving that I'm horrible because I was talking? I'm confused and pissed, but I kinda expected this when I made this post. I'll post them here too, so you can see what I'm talking about.

Not gonna lie, the fact that she's been blocked back in december and somehow still has my conversation is kind of sickening to me. The fact that it's my current pfp and not the one from my screenshot means she just screenshotted these to try and get some dirt on me. I'm glad I got out of this friendship just in time, and I would have left sooner if I knew the level of psycho I'd be dealing with.

[suzukiblu]

Day seven of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

Kon zips up to Tim, puts the little clay goat in his hands with a quick "hold this," because he is clearly not aware of how the oils on people's hands can damage this kind of thing or concerned about how magic or cursed it may or may not be, and deals with the panicked thieves. Tim shakes the sleeves of his jacket down over his hands to hold the goat more carefully and watches attentively as Kon tosses them all into a pile and then ties them up with a combination of TTK and velvet divider ropes. Tim would not typically use velvet divider ropes as restraints, but imagines that choice probably works better with telekinetic reinforcement behind it.

Actually, it definitely does, because Kon just whapped Lisa upside the back of the head with a loose end of the heavy velvet divider rope when she started trying to squirm free. 

"Ow!" she yells indignantly. 

"How's that whole 'the idol will protect us!' thing going for you now?" Kon asks curiously. 

"You don't know the shape of its blessing!" Mark snarls, attempting to kick him. The effort is futile and pathetic and also pretty stupid, since if he actually managed to hit Kon he'd probably just break his foot on him, but whatever, not Tim's problem. 

"The shape of its blessing is a cute goat and a jail cell," Kon says. 

"We should probably find a staff member to take this, on that note," Tim says, glancing around for one. There's got to be somebody. The guards are an option, he guesses, once Kon gets around to untying them. But he definitely should not still be holding this goat, even with his sleeves tucked over his hands and him being as careful as he reasonably can about it. 

Seriously. Somewhere a museum curator is crying and doesn't even know why. 

"Oh, sure," Kon says. The guards' restraints all simultaneously fall off. Unfortunately, none of them happen to be wearing gloves or have sleeves as long as Tim's, so that's going to be an issue. 

"Thanks," Tim says anyway.

"Eh, it was nothing," Kon replies with a shrug. "Literally, this whole situation was nothing. Like, this situation was the opposite of a situation. Nothing even happened." 

And then Tim just . . . has an idea, almost. Or at least the nucleus of one. 

"You did save my life, actually," he points out, making his tone politely appreciative but also carefully casual. 

"No offense, but I save a lot of people's lives, that doesn't really stick out in my day-to-day activities," Kon says. 

"I don't know, it stuck out a bit for me," Tim says, and Kon laughs. 

"Okay, fair," he says, flashing him a grin. "You're not actually hurt or anything, right? Eardrum didn't rupture when the gun went off?" 

"Doubt it," Tim says. Frankly he's unspeakably lucky that it didn't, but Kon's TTK probably did block at least some of the sound. 

He really didn't know Kon could use it like this, to be honest. Kon cracks out his TTK every chance he gets and brags the whole time he does, obviously, but Tim's never seen him manipulate it quite this way. 

It occurs to him to wonder if that means it's a new trick, or if Kon just always wraps up hostages or threatened civilians in his aura like that and just never mentions it. It seems likelier it'd be a new trick, considering literally everything he knows about Kon and his desperate and unsubtle need for validation and attention, but Kon was so unshakeably confident in the move–and not in a brash or blustering way, but in an obvious, matter-of-fact certainty. Like he'd done it a thousand times and it hadn't failed him yet. 

Tim should definitely figure out a way to follow up on that later. 

"Cool," Kon says, then looks around the gallery again. Tim feels oddly bereft without his immediate focus. 

Stupid, stupid inadvisable crush. Ugh. Bats don't want to be the center of anyone's attention unless they're deliberately drawing fire away from someone else. Tim definitely doesn't want to be the center of anyone's attention. 

Except, apparently, for Kon's. 

This incident report is going to be nothing but lies. Filthy, shameless lies.

[of-many-aus]

Less Than Ideal Living Situations

Summary: you and jake are put into a situation that is less than ideal

Warning: slight mention of violence

A/N: I’m kinda worried that this sucks; but also, feel free to send in requests for one shots for this series if you feel like it!!

Take Me Out to the Ball Game Masterlist

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You would like to reiterate the fact that this was completely Natasha Trace’s fault. Nothing about this did you do on your own free will.

She was the one who began the school year by commuting to classes after she got an apartment off campus with her boyfriend of two years, leaving you roommate-less.

True, she had apologized over and over again and even offered to keep being your roommate and give up the chance of staying with her boyfriend, but you wouldn’t let her. You were her best friend after all, and what kind of friend would you be if you kept her from happiness on your own selfish accords?

So, you reassured her that it was fine and you would find new living arrangements. She didn’t have to worry about you.

Turns out, she probably should have been worried. Because after posting up flyers all over the campus and social media- offering a room in your apartment for anyone who would like to accept your offer- not a single reply came your way.

That was when you really began to stress out.

It was one day until roommates had to be finalized, and you didn’t have one.

You had even begun to contemplate how you could trick the college staff into thinking that you were still with Nat, but not a single idea that could actually be done without breaking a couple of laws came to mind.

Then, a notification came through on your phone halfway through history class. Someone had accepted your offer.

The relief and joy that spread through you was almost too overpowering to even read the name of the person that would be your new roommate.

Jake Seresin.

Star player of your college's baseball team with an ego larger than the campus and a reputation to back it up.

The two of you had literature together. That is, when he actually bothered to show up. And when he did, he would mostly sleep through it. The only reason he wasn’t failing any of his classes was because your school couldn’t afford losing the best baseball player they had seen in over fifteen years. According to the gossiping group of girls you overheard in the dining hall, that is.

It was clearly too close to the final date to change it and desperately try to search everywhere for somebody else- anybody else- so now, you would just have to suffer through it.

“-and then, I went to go check on Jake, only to find him face down on the lawn.” Bradley Bradshaw, first baseman for the baseball team, laughed, shifting the box in his arms, “So naturally, we all just decided roommates without him. I mean, he should have seen it coming. There’s an odd number of us, including our manager, so of course one of us is going to have to find a different living arrangement- he just shouldn’t have missed it. It’s a good thing he saw your ad though, or else he might be living in the alley behind the campus kitchen-“

The man had been happily chatting your ear off for the last hour now, as he helped his friend unload all of his stuff into your apartment. And while he seemed nice enough, you just wished he would stop talking. You were exhausted and, quite frankly, nervous about the whole situation, so you weren’t exactly in a chatty mood.

Both of you walked through the door of your apartment after trudging up the stairs for the tenth time

“Rooster, leave the girl alone. You’re gonna scare my new roommate away.” Jake's voice floated smoothly through his lips and reached your ears in a way that made you shiver. You now had to live with this man.

Bradley grinned, “You don’t need me for that, Hangman, I trust that you’re gonna do that all by yourself.”

It was an annual tradition at your school that every athlete as a freshman in your sports centered college would get a nickname that would follow along with them for the rest of their years.

You gave the blond a tight lipped smile, “Not yet scared away.”

The man beside you dropped the box onto the ground beside all the other ones, “Welp, that’s the last of them, Bagman.”

Your smile morphed into a small, genuine one as you turned to face him, “Thank you for the help.”

He threw a playful wink at you, “Anytime. Just give me a call if Seresin is giving you any trouble. I’ll rough him up for you.”

A laugh left your lips as Bradley gave you a two finger salute before turning on his heel and exiting your apartment, ignoring the warning look his teammate was giving him.

There was a silence that followed Bradshaw's absence, as if any form of conversation had been taken by the hand and led out by the man.

Jake cleared his throat, drawing your eyes to lock with his devastatingly green ones, “Thank you again for letting me live here.”

There was a sort of sincerity in his voice that would have made you do a double take if you weren’t already looking at him. It was a tone that you never in a million years would have expected to hear out of him.

You coughed lightly, forcing yourself to roll your eyes, “Yeah, well, didn’t have much choice.”

His look didn’t falter like you had expected it to, “No, I suppose not.”

“Well, I’ll be in my room. Let me know if you need any help unpacking.” You desperately needed to get out of this situation.

He waved his hand dismissively, “I think I can manage.”

With that, you practically scurried off to your room, tightly closing the door behind you before sliding your back down it until your legs were curled up to your chest.

Your hand flailed to the side, gripping onto a pillow from your bed and bringing it into your lap before shoving your face into it and screaming, letting it muffle the sound.

So yes, this was completely Natasha Trace's fault. You were stuck in a small apartment with the last person you would ever had thought, and you would never let her hear the end of it.

Taglist: @djs8891 @pono-pura-vida @shanimallina87 @melllinaa @callsignbirdy @fogle97 @randomfandomgirl97

[infiniteeight8]

For the outside perspective time travel au could we have Pepper next? What does she think of Stephen suddenly moving in?

This mini-series is now called “At the Beginning Again” and can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/4415275.

I love outsider POVs, but I will note that this series doesn’t have to continue with that trope. 🙂 I feel like some things would be impossible to convey from the outside, among other things. (I don’t actually have notes on this series like I do on some of the others, but I’ll figure it out if it gets prompted again. LOL)

I have no idea how long Stephen would have had to have the external fixators on his hands, or what care would be needed for his hands after the fixators are removed, and frankly, I don’t want to dig into researching it right now. If someone wants to look it up for me, I will happily accept additional knowledge, but for now we’re just going to go with “no fixators but still bandaged, PT starting shortly”.

-

Pepper doesn’t need to be present when Doctor Strange moves into the guest suite on the floor below Tony’s. She’d handled most of the logistics, despite no longer being Tony’s PA, because “I don’t trust anyone else with this” was impossible to say no to, but the logistics were all finished now. So no, she didn’t need to be present. But she’s seen far too many people take advantage of Tony, and he’s already spent a small fortune installing accessible features into the suite in time for Doctor Strange’s release from the hospital, and another, smaller fortune having clothing with magnets closures made when the lines that were commercially available didn’t meet his standards or sense of style. He’s added Strange’s dietary needs and preferences to his personal chef’s files. He’s spent all day every day at the hospital, to the point that Pepper has had to go there to get Stark Industries business done. He’s given Strange full security privileges.

Something is going on, and Pepper is going to get to the bottom of it, one way or another.

She’s not quite sure what to expect from Doctor Strange. She knows his history and what he’s been through—Tony hadn’t asked for a background check; Pepper did one anyway—but that doesn’t always make for an easy evaluation of how someone will respond to this kind of trauma.

Despite that, the tall, confident man walking comfortably in step with Tony still surprises her. If it weren’t for the careful way he holds his bandaged hands, protecting them from being jostled, she wouldn’t know he’d been injured at all. He looks focused, not lost, not uncertain. For a man who has very recently been through a traumatic experience that destroyed the career he, by all reports, valued above everyone and everything, this is not normal. Which makes it another piece of the puzzle.

“Pep!” Tony says, spotting her. He smiles, but it’s not quite the same smile it was before he met Doctor Strange. “Meet Doctor Stephen Strange. Doc, meet Pepper.”

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t shake,” Strange says dryly.

Pepper makes herself smile. “Of course. Nice to meet you, Doctor. Why don’t I walk you through the suite’s accessibility features?” She watches him closely, but there’s no wince, no flinch, nothing you’d expect from a proud man who until recently had no need for accessibility features. He just thanks her.

He thanks her, and then barely pays attention, instead engaging Tony in a deep discussion of cause and effect and temporal mechanics and non-human sentience with Tony. Strange is a medical doctor, how is he speaking with any authority at all on some really esoteric physics? Or philosophy. Or both.

Tony and Strange barely notice when Pepper leaves them, but whether or not they’re paying attention to her, she’s definitely going to be paying attention to them.