#what am i even talking about on a real note

[makiruz]

Edit: Part 2 now available

Okay, I have read two fics fitting Liir into the Musical Verse, I don't really like either, but both have really interesting elements that really fascinate me (I just can't get into the sum of their parts)

So I am kinda making up with my own version, with the things I like, like Fiyero being a scarecrow and not out of his son's life, you know like that.

Keep in mind I haven't read any of the Wicked books and I most I know comes from the Wicked Wiki

Okay, so Liir, Elphaba and Fiyero's son grows up in Oz, raised by Glinda (I think this is from the book???); and I really like the idea from this fic that Glinda is passing him as her son with Fiyero, I mean is the books Liir is a known orphan, and Glinda is a known lesbian, but in the musical Glinda was Fiyero's fiance. Also I like the idea of Glinda finding out Elphaba is pregnant while they both think Fiyero is dead (loosely here)

Alright so it's like this, Elphaba gets pregnant from As Long As Your Mine, and we're past Fiyero getting crucified and something happens and Elphaba tells Glinda she's pregnant; Glinda is kind of excited, but we're all in agreement this is a terrible situation, Elphaba is Public Enemy Number One and Fiyero is dead, and also Elphaba's mother died in childbirth and what if the baby is green? The reality is that Elphaba doesn't want to terminate the pregnancy, she'd rather die instead but Glinda knows she doesn't mean either, and notes that Fiyero died so she could live, do you really want to throw away his sacrifice? So that's when they decide to fake Elphaba's dead; the Wizard already sent the girl Dorothy and her posse after Elphie so they're gonna use that, then Elphaba will go into hiding until the baby is born and then she'll leave Oz forever, and Glinda will keep the baby, and if the baby is green, Glinda will think of something; it's for the best, whatever life Elphaba is gonna have is not a good for a baby

So meanwhile Fiyero is not actually dead, he's a scarecrow and for whatever reason he wasn't able to get a message to Elphaba that he's alive, so he's not in it when the gang confronts the Witch; and so when she "melts" the Scarecrow is fucking distressed and no one understands why. Like the dead of the Wicked Witch is horrific, even Boq who was all gung-ho on killing her looks sick and horrified (yeah, turns out killing your college friend does not make you feel better about being made of tin); but the Scarecrow is a mess, when she finishes melting he practically jumps to the puddle and looks around, as if looking for something he can't find, "it's only water!" he says sounding distraught, eventually he takes the Witch's hat and holds him to his chest and it's clear that if he could cry he'd be wailing (side note, if Boq suspected who Scarecrow was, this confirmed it)

Anyway, after they have returned to Emerald City and Glinda has sent Dorothy back home following Elphaba's advice, the Scarecrow talks to her, he is still holding the Witch's hat for dear life and looks like the world is ending; "how is it possible? It was just water" he asks Glinda in despair, "pure water could destroy her wickedness, as marked for her green skin" someone says (not Boq, he has just realized he loved Elphaba as a friend and he's mourning), but Scarecrow insists, "but she was always green, but she wasn't always wicked!". Glinda had anticipated this kind of questioning (but not anticipate who would ask) and has an answer "the Vinkun soldiers heard the Witch chanting on her tower, she must have cast some sort of spell on herself" "ah! to make herself more powerful!" "sure, let's go with that" but Glinda notices the Scarecrow gets her real meaning Elphaba cursed herself to die, which only makes him more depressed, what is up with that?

Okay, so eventually the baby is born, and not only is he a normal human color, he looks just like Fiyero so Glinda can easily claim he's her son with her late fiance Fiyero Tigelaar killed protecting Glinda from the Wicked Witch of the West, she hid the pregnancy due to the unfortunate events of the past few months and everyone understand. Now the actual Fiyero, has spent the past few months in the Emerald City moping and helping with The Reconciliation and he knows something's up with Glinda's baby because he knows for a fact that Glinda wasn't pregnant and even if she was, it wouldn't be his because they hadn't slept together for months before his scarecrowification; but he gets it when he sees the baby, little Liir does indeed look just like him but he has Elphaba's eyes. Fiyero gently strokes his newborn son's face with a gloved hand, he is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen; and it means Elphaba is still alive, probably close by because Liir is only a couple of days old, she can't have gone far so soon after delivery, and he has an idea where Glinda might have stashed her: the Lake House, no one goes there since her father got injured and stopped fishing.

Once Fiyero goes to the Lake House he finds evidence Elphaba was indeed there, but she's gone now; dammit, she could be anywhere in Oz right now, she could be anywhere outside of Oz right now, finding her could take months, even years! But then he thinks of a little boy in the Emerald City who is gonna grow up without a father, and his son is his first priority, he'll find Elphaba later (and she won't just abandon her son either). So in the following years the Scarecrow who help killed the Wicked Witch of the West, becomes a constant presence in the life of Liir Tigelaar; Glinda doesn't know why the Scarecrow cares so much about Liir, but being a single parents is hard and she needs all the help she can get so she won't question it; meanwhile Liir comes to see the Scarecrow as a father figure, as ridiculous as it is (don't worry, he'll realize the irony eventually)

At this point, I realize this has gotten too long already so I'll continue with part 2 later

[weneeya]

save me - spiderman au m.list | rules

pairing. childe x reader

note. i'm not playing genshin impact anymore but i just can't escape my love for childe no matter what lmao i saw a fanart of him as spiderman and the idea simply crossed my mind so here i am!

You couldn’t even remember when you became friends with Childe. More than when, you had no idea why you were still doing this to yourself. Not that he was a bad guy, someone mean, or anything like this. No, of course not, he was a nice guy, mostly awkward. The real reason why was that the boy was a pain in your ass, to be honest. 

You didn't know how he was able to do this, but he was always ending up in stupid mess up situations, and you had to get him out of this every single time. You were his knight in shining armor, as he always said ; and you wondered why you kept doing this. Maybe you liked him more than what you wanted to admit. 

But he began to act weird. Well, he was always kind of weird, but it became worse for the last few weeks. It was almost like he was avoiding you, always running away all of a sudden, disappearing for hours. Even his poor aunt was starting to worry ; you knew it, you talked about it with her. 

And there was this guy. Spiderman, as he made himself called by the TV. Something like a stupid superhero trying to protect the city. You didn’t really care about it to be honest. It must be a guy wanting to be seen by the world. It was none of your problem. 

You thought so, until this afternoon arrived. You were walking down the street to go to the library when you heard someone whistling behind you. You decided to ignore it, until the man in your back called out for you. Once again ignoring it, his ego apparently didn’t appreciate it at all. He grabbed your shoulder, but before he could do anything more, you heard another voice from behind. 

You turned your head around, only to notice Spiderman’s stupid figure standing proudly and claiming that he would get you out of this. You rolled your eyes, taking advantage of the first guy to kick him right where it hurt, pushing his shoulder as he rolled on the floor in pain. The hero’s eyes widened behind his mask as you turned around to look at him. 

“But I… You…” That was a first. Girls were usually swooning over him, gladly accepting his help. You crossed your arms, slowly raising an eyebrow. “What?” You asked, and he gestured to the man on the ground. “I was about to save you!” You frowned slightly, thinking it might be some kind of weird joke. 

“I don’t need to be saved, find someone else,” you simply added before you left without another word or look at him. The poor boy stood there for a moment, before he shook his head. The man on the floor began to stand up to take his revenge on him, but the superhero simply threw the top of a bin on him, taking him out for good before he left. 

After that, this Spiderman guy didn’t seem to want to leave you alone ; like you didn’t have enough to take care of. No matter how many times you brushed him away, kicking bad guys’ asses yourself when all he wanted was to show you that you needed his help. Perhaps it was his own ego speaking. 

At the same time, Childe was definitely acting weirder every day that passed by. You were suspicious, because he always told you when something was wrong ; and something was clearly wrong right now. Except that he didn’t seem to want to tell you anything about it. So you decided to not give him the choice. 

When you barged into his room after you got his aunt’s authorization, he was getting out by the window. It could have been strange if all your focus wasn’t on the clothes he was wearing right now. You would have recognized this stupid costume in the dark. “What the hell?” 

This was how you discovered that your childhood friend, Childe, was no one else other than this stupid Spiderman. You were mostly angry at him ; not only because he was hiding this from you but also because of all the risks he was taking by being a neighbourhood superhero on his own. He tried to explain everything, his point of view and how he needed to be useful with his powers, but you couldn’t understand it. He ended up leaving his room by the window, leaving you alone with your anger and your thoughts in his bedroom. 

Your life became strangely peaceful after that day. Way too peaceful in your opinions, you had to admit it. While Spiderman wasn’t bothering you anymore, Childe wasn’t even glancing at you in the hallways of the school. You might be angry, but he seemed to be even more. You thought that maybe you shouldn’t have yelled at him when all he was trying to do was to put his powers to the good side ; but you felt like it was too late for this. 

Until you heard a knock at your window in the middle of the night. It obviously woke you up, and while you were ready to go scare the bird annoying you, the view when you opened the window made everything disappear from your mind. A redhead in a damaged costume, blood all over him and an apologetic look on his face. Childe. Wounded. 

You didn’t hesitate twice before making him get inside your room, trying not to make too much noise so no one in your house would wake up. He sat on the chair of your desk, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as you made a quick walk to the bathroom to get the first aid kit.

None of you spoke for what seemed to be an eternity. What were you supposed to say? You had fought with him, and now he was almost dying from blood loss in your room. The situation made no sense at all. You were taken away from your thoughts when his voice came out from his mouth in a small whisper. 

“I’m sorry,” was all you heard before you looked up at him. You weren’t surprised, but you hated that he was the one to apologize when it was you who should do it. You had said awful things to him, and you realized it after. “Quiet, let me focus,” you told him. You cursed at yourself for being so emotionally constipated but you could swear you noticed a light smile tucking the corners of his lips. 

When you were done with his wounds, he began to stand up. You pushed him down on the chair, raising an eyebrow. “What do you think you’re doing?” You asked him, and it was his turn to look surprised. “Leaving?” He said, like it was obvious, and you shook your head. “So you can go die in the middle of a street? No way. You’re staying there.” You turned around, walking to your bed so you could put it correctly again. 

He stayed silent for a moment, but the second he wanted to say something, you cut him off. “I’m sorry,” you said, and his eyes went wide. You took a deep breath, your back still turned to him. “I didn’t try to understand you. I was wrong, I admit it.” No matter how hard he wanted to tease you and make a remark, he knew how to read a room. It was difficult enough for you to do this, it was better if he let you speak. 

“I can’t stop you from doing this, but at least let me help you,” and with those words, you turned around to finally meet his eyes. He was right about letting you finish, because he never expected things to take this turn. You slowly shook your head at his obvious surprise. “I’ve always helped you out, I don’t see why it should change.” The light smile playing on your lips made him chuckle softly. You were right, he couldn’t do it properly if you weren’t by his side anyway. 

What you didn’t tell him was that you simply couldn’t bear the idea of him being so severely injured without anyone to turn to. It was better for everyone if the only person knowing his secret was on his side. You offered your hand to him, and he took it with a grin. That was a deal. From now on, Spiderman wouldn’t need to carry his burden alone.

thank you!

[yapper1020]

This is most definitely gonna flop but I wrote this fic about Carmy in therapy today and it's too short to post on ao3 so imma post it here. It's still a bit long and I'm aware the way Carmen talks in this is out of character but my mind would not be stopped. I had to write it like this. I apologize for any typos.

Disclaimer that I have never been to therapy but enjoy I guess lmao.

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"There's uh, there's this thing in my chest. I forget the name of it sometimes. Too busy thinking about my hands to focus on the rest of my parts. It keeps you alive. The heart. It's the center of everything. The powerhouse. Or at least, it's supposed to be."

"How do you mean?" Doctor Scott, his therapist, asks him. And fuck it all really, because is he even therapy material? Is he not too far gone? Natalie doesn't think so. That's who he's here for.

Natalie.

Sydney.

Richie.

The list can go on for days.

And he'll still be here in this room. Wondering if he's worth anything.

"That, uh, that probably sounded confusing," he chuckles, a humorless sound. "I guess I mean emotionally. My heart isn't in charge. Am I making sense?"

"Please, continue."

"Uh, o-okay." Swallows. It feels like glass shredding his throat. The dread. "It's my mind that handles shit. I've always dealt with everything like an equation even though I'm terrible at math...so no, actually. I treat everything like a dish. Clean plate or messy. Sharp corners or abstract shapes. Light or heavy. Big or small. Everything is how it's supposed to be. Even if you hate it. Even if you hate yourself for doing it." A breath. Shuddering and small. "And when a plate is fucked, you abandon it." A finger against a nose. Nail scratching against bone.

"My mother hated me - hates me because I'm something to hate. I'm easy to dislike. I was made to be her punching bag. Acceptance. That's what I did to handle that. I was never meant to be loved by my mother or father. Not in a normal way. Not in a healthy way. Not in a real way."

"Why do you feel like that? Like you were meant to be hated?"

"Because...because I hate myself. I told you, I'm easy to dislike."

"Why do you hate yourself?" He says, writing on his pad. As if he is merely a name on a paper. Is that what he's worth? An easily scribbled, merely incomprehensible note on a doctor's form. Simply and only a patient to people paid to take care of him? Because everyone else has given up?

"I am boring. Lifeless. I am lifeless because I am bloodless and because I am bloodless, I am pale. Ugly. Deformed."

"Is that what you think of your appearance? Or something you were told? By your mother, perhaps?"

"Both." He touches his nose. Squints his eyes. "Uh," a sigh. A cry for help. "I'm not fun to be around. Most times I'm paralyzed in my own mind. My family says I need to calm down. Unwind. Relax. Unclench my ass. I don't fucking know how to do that. Since I was born, everything was high intensity and fast. Very happy or very sad or so terrifyingly angry. Nothing was done small. Nothing was ever fucking calm. I was raised in chaos so therefore I must've have been for it. It must be all that I can be. All that I can create. A creature is born to is born to a certain habitat because that is the only way it can live or try too. Only in those conditions. So if the conditions are violent, the creature is by nature, by its calling, violent. It's the only way it can survive. I was bred to be loveless and unlovable, and cruel, and unkind."

I was born to not know love.

It does not know me.

And I do not know it.

"Everyone runs from an oncoming train. Unless they want to get hurt." He continues.

"Carmen, I can't help but notice that you have a very poor outlook of yourself."

"Most people do." He tries to joke but he's never been one for humor. Doctor Scott does not laugh. Suddenly, "you sound like Sydney," he says.

"What does Sydney say?"

"She tells me I'm unkind to myself."

"She's right."

"She always is." He responds, almost defensively. Shifting on the hard cushion.

"Who is Sydney?"

"My partner." He motions for Carmen to continue but he doesn't, not understanding.

"Who is Sydney to you?"

"My partner."

"No. Not in a work capacity, Carmen."

"Why-why do you ask?"

"You smiled."

"What?"

"When you mentioned her. You smiled. For the first time in the forty-five minutes we've been here."

"Well...I only know her fully in a work capacity. I barely know her outside of that."

"What do you know about her outside of that?"

"She is shy. And she's fierce. And she's awkward. And she bottles everything in. I wish she wouldn't. Her nose crinkles when she thinks. Her voice goes quiet when she asks for something. Her jokes are awful but she loves to tell them anyway. She smiles with her nose and her eyes. She's not afraid of me so I fear her power."

"You fear her?"

"I fear what she can do. She tells me when I'm wrong. When I'm being an asshole. She doesn't give me grace. Like Richie or Nat. And I don't think she should, I honestly don't want her to. She meets me toe to toe except...I am the monster and she's the queen. I'm not used to that. I'm used to fighting monsters. Do I sound like a nursery rhyme? I think I do."

The doctor's mouth does not move.

"She can leave me and not be broken. But if she leaves me...I won't ever be whole. Forever indented by the lack of her presence."

"So she means a lot to you?"

"She consumes me. But if I do the same to her, she'll be gone forever. Lost to the grayness of my being. I would never see her again except, she'd be right in front of me. And that would be infinitely worse."

"You think you are a danger to her?"

"I know I am. But I can't let her go and for some reason I can't fucking understand, she won't leave me. She is angry at me. But she won't go. She looks at me like she believes in me. She is stubborn to show me something I can't even fathom. She wants me to learn it. But I don't even think she's aware of what she's doing."

"And what's that?"

"She is trying to show me love. Or she has already shown me it. But I can't process it. So I scream and she does it back. And sometimes, I see her crying at closing and my mind factory resets so I don't have to think of how I'm the cause of it. I ignore pain. Whether from me or others because I only, always, make it worse. And the next day, I treat her with kindness or rather, I treat her with a lack of anger and hope she smiles. She rarely does."

"You always make it worse?"

"When I was five, Natalie got cut. I tried to help, ran to get a band aid. What I didn't realize is that the first aid kit had a pool of my mother's brandy in it. It was on the bandage. It burned Natalie. I made it worse. Yes, I always do." A beat of silence and Carmen rubs at his chest. "I'm tired of talking." His mouth is dry, his eyes are wet.

"Well, you have an hour left but we don't have to talk. We can just sit."

Carmen nods. He talks anyway. "Sydney is hopeful. Sydney is optimistic. I'm a pessimist. We shouldn't work. But we try anyway. And sometimes, it's like flying. Others, it's like falling straight into the abyss. We clash but I don't want to lose her. So I do what I do best."

"What's that?"

"I cook. I speak through food. Vegetables, fruits, meats. They're all letters and seasonings are periods and commas and exclamation points. That is my language. She speaks it too. That is how we were introduced even though I didn't know that we met at the time. She ate one of my dishes. And somehow, impossibly, she was inspired. She sought me out. I think she might regret it." His brow furrows. "Hey, doc. She's the only person other than family I can apologize too, why's that?"

"Maybe because you care about her."

"I care about a lot of people. She's the only one I can speak too. Say what I mean."

"Well, how do you feel about her?" There's a freckle on his nose. An imperfection Carmen finds. He was trained to find imperfections. In dishes and chefs below him and around him. To break them. To surpass them.

I'm gonna smoke this motherfucker!

But never the chefs above him. They were supposed to break him. To mold him. To make him hard and callused and cruel. Except it didn't take them that long to make him that way. Had a natural knack for it, it seems.

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, how does Sydney make you feel?"

"Uh, you know that moment after a storm? When everything goes quiet. The earth stops shaking. The sky stops screaming. But it's still wet and dreary, there's mud everywhere. You stay inside because it's warm and you're dry and you're safe."

"Sydney feels like that to you?"

"Sydney is that to me."

"You said you can't process love but I think you are. I believe you are learning."

"It doesn't matter whether I'm learning something good. Because I can't unlearn all the bad. I can't unlearn the way my mother's hands curl around a wine bottle. Or how she snarled like a beast when she looked at me. I can't unlearn the way my father left without so much as a goodbye or even a glance back. I can't unlearn how Natalie's nose flares when she cries. And I can't unlearn how Micheal breathed like two hands were choking his lungs. I can't forget that shit. I am that shit." There's a mirror in the room. Everything about him is red when he sees his reflection. "I am my mother's pleas and her accusations. I am my father's son. I have his eyes. I have his ears, I have his tendency to leave. I am my mother's anger and her wretched uncommon happiness. I am the reason for her rage and the target of her calamity. I am my brother's only hope and his dying wish. I am his disappointment and his pride. I am the thoughts that killed him. I'm the one person my sister couldn't get to stay so I am the root of her unhappiness. I am the reason she stays up at night yet still am one of the partakers of her kindness. I am my family's blood and I carry all their scars. I am the outcast. I carry all the darkness because I am strange and they can't understand me so Ma put all the problems on me because I was already misshapen so why not a bit more stretching and pulling until I no longer have a form but am just merely a fog that travels within the spaces they all long to ignore. Those crevices that ache and moan and bitch, that is where I live. In my family's sorrow. In their every fear. In the reason they give up. I am a Berzatto which means I am heartbroken and lonely and full of a fury I can't control. It is my birthright. It is burned into the mechanical nature of my matter. I am loud and intolerable. I move without feeling. I will tear you apart with my teeth like a bear and I will loathe myself for it afterward. I'll give anyone my all but all of me is not something people usually want. I am without a place and without a purpose to any other human being unless I am serving them."

"Except to your family."

"They're my family. They have to love me anyway."

"Except to Sydney?"

It stumps Carmen. His mouth shuts.

"Would you like to talk about your brother?" He nearly has whiplash.

"My brother...I loved him."

"I know."

"He was everything I wanted to be and everything I didn't."

"Can you expound on that?"

"He'd get into fights a lot. But he had passion. He stood up for himself. People liked him. I so desperately wanted to be liked or understood. Nobody got me. They'd try but not really. Sydney gets me."

"So your brother was your role model, would you say?"

"He was my inspiration."

"And when he died?"

"Everything lost its flavor."

The doctor seemingly understanding that his client speaks in the tongue of a chef more than the tongue of a human taps his pen and asks, "and when could you taste again?"

"Sydney made risotto. It needed acid. But I still thought it was perfect. But I didn't tell her that. I diminished her instead."

"Like your mother diminished you?"

His jaw clenches, his eyes water. "Yes." He admits, brokenly.

"Carmen. You're right. You can't forget the things you witnessed in your childhood and adulthood. You can't forget the way you were treated. But you can change. You can be different. You can break away from the things you learned and become new. You can be the person you want to be."

...

It's cold when Carmen makes it outside.

His lips are dry.

His fingers are numb.

His mind feels loopy.

So when he sees Sydney leaned up against her car, he thinks he might be hallucinating.

He walks toward his hallucination with purpose. She smiles at him and he frowns.

"Sydney?"

"Hey!" She rubs her hands together, bracing against the wind. "How'd it go?"

"It uh," he looks back at the office and squints. "It went." He shrugs, not knowing what to say. It was heavy and it was long. And he's tired. She understands that immediately.

"Yeah, these things can be rough."

"Why are you here?" He asks but not unkindly.

"To drive you home."

"You didn't have to do that."

"Dude, it's like ten fucking degrees, I didn't want you to freeze."

"I wouldn't freeze." He says back, confused.

She sucks her teeth and rolls her eyes. "I wanted to be with you after that shit. Okay? Happy?"

He stares at her. She is the sun, he is the moon. Always on one side of the sky but rarely together. He thinks they should become an everlasting eclipse.

She hugs him. Her arms squeeze him so hard that he feels again.

He sighs.

His nose burns from the chill.

He is home.

[dipperscavern]

Need more vampire!cregan thoughts pls🙏 doesn't have to be dirty but imo I need to know about how he bites his wife (while railing her)- 📑 anon

okay ive just had a premonition about this (my eyes rolled into the back of my head and i satrted floating)

i think even after its well established that cregan's free to bite you - especially during sex - he never does it without warning. its the same routine every time, no matter if he's actually feeding or just biting, or while cuddled in bed with or sheathed inside of you.

he trails his lips up to the place he plans to sink his teeth, kissing your skin and slowing down any other ministrations of his in the process. its intentional; he wants you to feel him coming - always giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted. you never do, of course.

once he comes to the place he plans to break your pretty skin at, he starts with pressing a final kiss to the area. except this time, his lips don't come back up.

usually, by now, the excitement and anticipation of it has sped your heart considerably. he can hear its quick-paced rhythm - can hear the rushing sound of flowing blood, too. and although he can (and does) appreciate such a thing as the racing of sweet crimson, his unoccupied hand always does something to calm you; to remind you that cregan is still here. a caress of skin, a cup of your cheek - you respond all the same, pursuing the comfort he offers by favoring into him.

it doesn't seem nearly as long of a process when it actually happens, because as cregan cups your cheek, you feel the graze of teeth on your skin.

he's quite gentle in this routine. always a first graze of dull teeth before the sharp sting of fangs. the seconds that pass between the two feelings are another opportunity to change your mind and pull away. you always have that option - whenever, wherever.

the intrusion of fangs always make you gasp, whether it be the shock of pain or your nerves in disbelief their worrying of half-expected pain is a sentiment that's come to a crest. they catch up quickly, however. action absorbs anxiety.

if ever asked to describe it, you're not sure you'd have the words.

pain, like all things, is a spectrum. quite almost everybody understands this, yet somehow it always remains unspoken. the kind that comes with feeding isn't the same as the kind experienced when stabbed or shocked, no. those are the kinds whose hold you always, whether on purpose or not, try and yank away from.

cregan's teeth bring the same amount of discomfort found only in picking skin, or walking with a small leg wound. it hurts, surely, but you don't try to pull free from its grasp. this the pain that has carved an empty space next to you, that from the time of your birth to your fleshly departure you spend countless hours learning to sit beside when filled.

and, truthfully, the pain is dull. a slow throb as blood does its job without second thought, rushing to fill the wound, no matter how inflicted. but there is - undoubtedly - a certain pleasure that's found, too. it aches, but it also clouds. if the feeling of steady fog filling the silent earth, so much so that you cannot see your hand outstretched in front of you, could be not only captured, but embodied, it would be this. it would be how your lashes flutter shut as your body fills with static, feeling like, if not careful, you could follow your redness - right into the mouth of your greedy husband. and, gods, is it exhilarating. it is an exhilarating feeling - to give.

and the feeling of taking even more so.

but cregan is careful to not succumb to that feeling entirely, lest he get too carried away. it doesn't require much effort, thoughts of you are more than enough to override even the taste of blood in his mouth.

and that dance - of push and pull - of take and give, is one inexplicable thing. is such that is inexplainable using the limitations provided by the mere common tongue. and so it remains incomprehensible.

[outlying-hyppocrate]

i have officially returned. ask me anything.

[crossbackpoke-check]

the deweys photos are from this video: https://youtu.be/5xTwJho44ao?si=bPw8MZZ327lCogVZ aren’t they just everything

kissing you and the minnesota wild official media team (with consent) full on the mouth, THANK YOU THIS VIDEO IS EVERYTHING 🥰🥰 i have seen pieces of it before i think (connor petting a shark 🥹) but the entire video start to finish is such a delight, 10/10 would recommend

[angy-grrr]

I don’t get why ppl keep saying bkdk is dead or Horikoshi broke off bkdk. If that were true, this extra would look very different as you pointed out multiple times. The extra was still heavily focused on them and I hate how ppl are letting one no dictate the entire relationship. Izuku asks him to be a special lecturer too. I think the no just needs more clarification but other than that it is mostly fine. If a ship were to be shut down by the creator, it would look very different. Same logic for if a ship were to be canon, it would look different than what we got in the end for izu///ocha. This extra was bad in different ways from ships. It was just a whole lot of nothing that doesn’t meaningfully add anything to the story but I guess we shouldn’t be surprised since it is an extra. It is still an ambiguous ending that can be pretty fixable by one shots by Horikoshi in the future or even better by fanfiction lol. Except for the Toga part. That is just inexcusable

himiko-chan :(

and yeah! like even tho 431 is terrible not only for pairs but also for the whole story, it only confirmed Katsuki feels something really strong for deku and he doesnt notice bc he doesnt consider himself to be that great; they keep talking, and they keep being in each other's lives with no problem -they also imply they will work on communicating their feelings, as the special lecture is about this topic and deku also thinks katsuki doesnt see himself in a high regard. This is actually something that could be used in the future, as their relationship and arc isnt completely finished -in the way that they arent at a point of no miscommunication, no yearning, etc. They still need something to work with in regards to themselves and each other in the process. When it comes to midoriya and uraraka, idk what exactly could develop from what 431 tell us -seems to be mostly about paying attention to the ppl in your life instead of just letting life happen I guess? But idk what conversation or arc they could have together that wasn't resolved already, it was a really weird choice to focus on them as if there needs to be more explored -which is why choosing to not make them talk to each other nor think of the other in these years is potentially interesting, like the only way they could actually need to talk things up or have a separated special moment is if they just stop being friends and want to talk more from now on. Like, if they kept their friendship these years and were part of the other's life, there wouldnt be a moment like this at all.

I think it hurt mostly ochako -and deku if we interpret it as "deku just wants to be teacher, he is super happy about it, and loveeees so much his ex bestie after 8 years of no contact and never thinking about her"-, more than the bkdk relationship.

It would be interesting to see those one shots, if he does them -I know he said he wanted to do more things and little drawings and content for it, but idk if he will do something elaborate or just one page of something silly. I think he still has to opportunity of working with the material and make something at least not this bad -or completely ignore 431 and just continue with their adventures like 430 implies lol If he wants to double down with the "romance" I have no idea how he could do it with what he has tbh, unless he just ignores the plot and their personalities.

[painted-bees]

Sean sent this to me with the message "Raf and Lawrence shenanigans"

[medicinemane]

Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy

You have... very very very very very very very very smart people you know, and they're say something that not only isn't true, but literally is as opposite of the truth as it's possible to be... and you'll... gently inform them "hey, it's actually a bit more like this" and then they just kinda... go on saying literally the exact same thing

I'm not sure if it's just that... I often feel like I must be very bad at communicating, or people must just not notice/ignore a lot of what I say, but... I don't know

Like dearest friend, you've said something as absurd as... I don't know, it's hard to say without saying it, but honest to god about as absurd as saying the United States was a part of the USSR, that level of completely getting it backwards

...and it just doesn't seem to matter when I try to explain it... I legit don't even know if you read what I said

Really end up feeling like I'm going nuts sometimes

[vulpinesaint]

sorry thinking about how i wrote an entirely lovecraft themed poem about transgenderism for my beginning creative writing class last semester and one single person besides the professor in that room full of english majors recognized that it was referencing lovecraft. i do not mean this in a way that shames people for not having read stuff or for not having the means to read stuff. but oh my god guys does anyone who is getting a higher level education in literature even look at the literary sources of common phenomena in media nowadays

[can-of-w0rmz]

Sometimes I remember that my sanity is actually dependant on a few fictional characters from 200 years ago, like not a silly haha joke but that I genuinely don’t have any other support system or healthy coping mechanism other than reading about and engaging in fan content for these fictional Victorians, and then I am like “uh oh. Goodness me. I may be in a bit of a sticky situation. A pickle, if you will.”

Anyway ahahahah something something humorous tumblr post as a coping mechanism ahaha something something

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

underrated genre of character playlist entry: songs a character would relate to because they do not understand their situation, themself, or the song itself well enough to realize it is not accurate (and might well straight up be a callout for people like them). which song is your blorbo's fight club

[fagmegumi]

im sorry to keep harping on about this but like PLEASE. Seriously

[some-teeth-in-a-trench-coat]

Extremely incoherent tired ramble I think mostly about what the heck does empathy mean and I can't have npd right (<- doesn't remember if he actually confirmed you can't be high empathy and have npd or just got confused by something but still probably just being mentally ill in unrelated ways)

why do narcissist memes need to be so relatable like I'm high empathy unless I've gravely misunderstood what empathy is? I think that's gotta be one I don't have right ?? my brain is just still disorder hoarder mode because it still hasn't realized we already got the validation of knowing we're genuinely messed up that we were craving years ago (which was mainly "yes you're plural actually no like legit you're not making those guys up and yeah no that stuff was trauma you are not just mysteriously messed up without trauma there was definitely trauma what part of being terrified every single night for most of your childhood did you think was not traumatic") what was I talking about uh empathy is like just interpreting information to the best of your ability and then feeling things based on that interpretation like it can be incorrect just like you can read words wrong and react to what you think you read and like empathy makes you feel what you interpret other people as feeling to some extent right? and it's like analogies and metaphors in how it requires you to map one situation onto another in order to interpret it and lacking knowledge about one of them will make it much harder to understand just like I don't understand what it means to not understand metaphors to the point of struggling to communicate without the use of analogies in case that wasn't obvious but that's what empathy is right like it's not telepathy it's just interpreting and reacting to information?? I have that I can interpret information and then I react like just now I thought what if a child was sad for some reason and I almost cried bc hypothetical child is sad and that's incompatible with the thing isn't it someone who's better at humans than me please explain good night

[evil-gay-person-inactive]

it's not everyday you see your friends passing notes about you :)

[vulpinesaint]

wishing all non-usamericans a very shut the fuck up about your opinions on our voting actually. contrary to popular belief we're not fucking stupid and we know how voting works. first of all if someone is making the choice to abstain from voting as opposed to voting for the lesser of two evils (or actually supporting one of the parties) they have put a LOT of thought into that decision and it's not made lightly! second of all do you fucking HEAR yourself. "don't even think about who that vote's going toward" what the FUCK are you talking about. it is so incomprehensible to me to walk up to someone and tell them that it's important to vote but not to? vote for something good? yeah don't worry bro just vote. surely putting no critical thought into the end result of your political actions will end up fine. even if this were not a much more complex situation where undecided votes are being used to pressure different political sides and decisions not to vote have a lot of thought put into them, this take completely ignores the central problem, which is that people don't want to put a man who is actively contributing to genocide at the moment back into power. i think it's pretty fucking significant to think about what someone might do if they get elected actually.

you get it. you understand. you see how it's different. man i really don't think you do actually. the way to fuck over one party in a two-party system is to vote for the other party and the "better" party here is fucking terrible and will only continue pushing right if unchallenged. "just vote for genocide joe! don't think about what will actually happen! don't you want to screw over trump!" man do you hear yourself???? if we could shut down the condescension for a second and use our brains maybe we could have a productive discussion that didn't hinge around a fundamental misunderstanding of both our electoral system and the political movements that are currently involved and invested in the actions of voters right now. in the meantime goddddddd if you don't know what you're talking about take the high ground and shut the fuuuckkkk upppppppp