#young blood 2019 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

delulujuls · 11 months ago

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young, dumb & bwoke | ln4

hi! as u can see i couldn't stop myself from writing about last saturday events in amsterdam with mr norris as main star (he was more popular than the king himself lmao). lando is literally what i always bring to the function and yup, enjoy him being the chaotic drunk bestie while max and y/n are his literal party parents. its nothing crazy and without plot basically, i just added sum to this years' koningsdag so yeah, enjoy!

summary: there is nothing that lando loves more than a good party and his beloved dutch friends so imagine him with drink in his cup surrounded by whole orange nation. it could be nuts and it was

warnings: TONS of alcohol, lando being drunk (and hurted), mentions of blood, basically sum chaos

pairing: fem!dutch!bff!reader x lando norris (ft. max verstappen)

Lando couldn't wait for the plane he was on to break through the heavy cloud cover and land in Amsterdam.

China and Miami, which were the next rounds on the calendar, were separated by two weeks that were nothing else, in Lando's case, than a time of stagnation. Add to this the fact that Lando had bad memories of his performance in China and, what's worse, the sprint he failed so badly and which constantly played in his head like a jammed record, one could go crazy. That's why the Brit was extremely happy when he received an invitation to spend the weekend in the capital of the Netherlands. He was invited to Amsterdam to celebrate King Willem's birthday by none other than his favorite flying Dutch.

The friendship of Y/N, Max and Lando began in 2019, practically from the very moment he entered Formula 1. The kid, who was barely 20 years old but looked like 12, immediately won over the Dutch couple with his smile and sense of humor, who, due to their sometimes severe temperament, could not boast of having many friends in the paddock. Even though the three friends were only two years apart, Max and Y/N naturally became Lando's racing parents, with whom the Brit spent practically every moment, from time in the paddock, through celebrating on the podium, to time away from competitions. So it was no surprise when they invited him to spend the weekend together, to which he, of course, eagerly agreed.

When the plane landed, Lando pulled the hood of his orange sweatshirt over his head and slung his backpack over his shoulder, in which he packed everything he might need for the coming days. As you could guess, there wasn't much of it, he actually had everything he needed on him and the most important part was an oversized orange sweatshirt. Waiting for him at the airport was Y/N, who couldn't wait to see him. She didn't have to wait too long, because a moment later he walked out in front of the terminal. Y/N smiled as she saw her friend walking towards her and she hugged him tightly.

"You knew I was coming, you could have asked the king for better weather," Lando joked, trying to sound serious, which only made the girl giggle.

"If you think that the weather will have any influence on what will happen in the evening, then unfortunately I will have to disappoint you," she replied, getting into the car. "It's already starting to get crowded in downtown, and it's not even noon."

Lando threw his backpack into the backseat and got into the passenger side. He smiled like a child, looking forward to how the weekend would unfold. It looked like he would spend a nice few days, able to finally de-stress and relax, and in the company of friends. But speaking of friends, one of them was missing.

"And where's Max?" he asked as they left the airport and were on their way to the girl's apartment. "I thought he had been waiting for me with the welcome committee since yesterday."

"He's already in town, I dropped him off while I was on my way to pick you up."

"He's fast," Lando laughed and shook his head, "I hope he's still on his feet when we get to him."

At that moment, Lando didn't think about the fact that no one else but himself would be able to stay on his feet. When the Brit set off for Amsterdam, he obviously expected to spend two days drunk, with legs sore from dancing and a sore throat from singing, but he forgot that he has absolutely no immunity to alcohol.

When the three friends were finally together, alcohol quickly appeared in their hands. Y/N and Max started with beer, but Lando had no intention of wasting his time drinking something that would only cause pressure on his bladder. As soon as he boarded one of the barges floating on the Herenbracht Canal, he drank several shots at once. Y/N and Max just exchanged glances as he drank the drink standing on Garrix's console in one gulp, who didn't care one bit about it, being already in a good mood himself.

"I'm a little worried about how this might end," Max said in her ear as she took a sip of her cider, watching Lando jump happily.

"Even if he's drunk, so what," she replied, handing him her bottle and taking away the body paints in circulation, "He didn't come here to be bored."

Max was about to say something, but she pushed his hand slightly, bringing the bottle he was holding to his lips. Max shook his head and took a few sips from it, while the girl started painting flags on his cheeks. When she finished, she waved them up, attracting Lando's attention, who understood what she meant and nodded eagerly. The girl squeezed through the console and stood next to him, leaning him against the barge rails, because Lando had trouble not bobbing to the music for a moment.

The smile that never left his face wrinkled his cheeks, on which she tried to paint Dutch flags. When she finished and turned to pass the paints, Lando took off her sunglasses and put them on himself.

"Have a drink with me!" Lando shouted, holding out his empty cup to her, and she raised her cider bottle in response. He rolled his eyes in dissatisfaction when suddenly a bottle of vodka appeared in the crowd and someone handed it straight to his hands. Without much thought, Lando unscrewed the cap and took a few sips as if the contents were water, which of course met with the crowd's approval.

Y/N took the bottle from his hands, fearing not the amount Lando drank, but the relatively short time it took him to do so. However, not wanting to seem boring, she tilted the bottle herself, letting the liquid burn her throat. Delighted, Lando clapped his hands and hugged his friend, causing some of the alcohol to flow down her chin. She smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist as well, and raised her hand in a toast, which was joined by everyone who had something to drink.

Max also raised his beer bottle a bit. However, somewhere in the background of his mind there was an image of Lando and what he would look like in the near future. However, the Brit himself did not care at all about this. As long as he was in the company of his friends, his plastic cup was full and he could jump to the music and sing along, he was happy. Even the fact that his face was in the wrong place at the wrong time, when someone, completely by accident, punched him in the face, didn't disturb it.

Y/N, who also decided to pick up the pace after drinking her cider, immediately sobered up when she saw blood on her friend's face. She quickly pressed a tissue to his nose, but he tried to assure her that he was fine. His brain didn't encode the impact or the pain, didn't acknowledge that he was bleeding, even when he ran his tongue over his lips and tasted blood on them. People in the crowd started calling out to each other to see if anyone had a first aid kit. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a bandage appeared, and just as Y/N, being drunk, thought it would be a great idea to wrap Lando's face in a bandage, Max started asking people if they somehow had band aids. He couldn't let that dumbass parade around like that for the rest of the evening.

“I've sobered up a bit, I can keep drinking,” he said as Y/N finished clumsily bandaging his face, “I probably look worse that i did when i crashed in Vegas.”

Her friend tried to be serious, but it was impossible to stay serious around Lando. "You have to be careful, Lan," she said, trying to retain some sanity and touching his cheek, looking into his eyes, "I hope it's not broken."

"Bwoken," he repeated in silly voice, giggling "Oh no, it couldn't be bwoken"

"Honestly, i also hope it is not," Max interjected when he managed to rejoin his friends after some time, "Getting to the hospital now would be a near miracle."

"Hey, I'm fine," he said as Max waved the Band-Aids in his face and began to remove the clumsy bandage into which their friend had probably poured her whole heart and a few drinks that she drank earlier.

"I'm glad you don't feel anything, but that doesn't change the fact that I won't look at it," he replied, lifting his chin and examining his nose from every angle. Luckily this one seemed fine.

Once Max had placed two tiny patches on him, Y/N handed him his mug with a fresh drink again. "Brave patient," she smiled at him.

"In a state like this, I'd be surprised if he felt something," Max admitted, taking a bottle of vodka standing nearby. He decided that since Lando had had an accident, nothing worse awaited them and he could allow himself to loosen a bit more. He took a few sips and handed the bottle to the younger one, who smiled, tightening his hand around it. He looked at his friends standing in front of him, slightly drunk but still fully focused on him. He knew he was important to them and that he is not alone in all this madness.

"I love you guys," he said, with a bottle in his hand, pushing himself off the railing and hugging them, "You are the best in the world, simply the best."

The rest of the day and later in the evening took place in a great atmosphere and the party lasted until 3. in the morning. For the rest of Amsterdam it probably lasted longer, but for Lando it began to end after two o'clock, when he was barely able to stand. Partly from being drunk, partly from being tired. He didn't stand still during a single song, so the next day, apart from his face, his legs will certainly be visible. Taking a break for something warm to eat, Max, Y/N, and Lando sat down at one of the wooden tables. While waiting for their orders, Lando rested his head on Y/N's shoulder and closed his eyes. It was obvious that he just needed something to lean on to fall asleep.

"I think it's time for us to go," the girl announced, directing her words to Max. "The baby is only fit for bed now."

"He's been in great shape for a long time anyway, judging by how much he was on his feet today," Max concluded, glancing first at him and then at the girl, "But you're holding up pretty well, aren't you?"

"Yes, I do," she nodded and hugged Lando, who began to slide off her shoulder, "But I'm also getting sleepy."

"Me too," Max rubbed his face with his hands, "At least we can be sure that no one will wake us up first thing in the morning to explore the city."

He said, glancing at Lando, who was dozing with his mouth open on his friend's shoulder. After eating casseroles and fries, which were for Lando and which he was unable to eat, the three of them went to the girl's apartment. Of course, only she and Max were walking on their own, Lando was between them, leaning on their arms. He was muttering something incomprehensible under his breath, so it was obvious that he was alive and everything was fine, besides the fact that he was completely drunk.

When they arrived at the address and crossed the threshold of the apartment, they immediately went to put him in the bedroom, not wasting time in unfolding the couch for him. Max was in the process of stripping him of his shoes, pants, bloody sweatshirt, and all the necklaces and ribbons he had collected the previous day, while Y/N placed a large bottle of water, painkillers, and a bucket by his bed, as if the contents of his stomach had suddenly decided that they wants to get outside. However, there was no indication that Lando was going to have a restless night, because he started snoring softly as soon as his cheek touched the pillow. Max covered him with the blanket and took a few steps away from the bed, standing next to his friend who was looking at the sleeping boy.

"Can you hear that?" Max whispered, glancing at her, and she frowned questioningly, "It's silence, listen to it, because when he gets up, the only thing you can hear will be his lamentations about how hungover he is."

The girl snorted quietly and shook her head, taking Lando's clothes to the laundry.

"The most important thing is that he had a good time. And a little hangover never killed nobody."

The next day, however, did not bring anything unexpected. When Lando woke up, the first thing that hit him was a terrible headache that got worse when he sat down and tried to get out of bed. When he stood in the doorway of the bedroom, Y/N and Max's eyes immediately went towards him and Lando could swear that they looked like they spent the entire last evening on the couch.

"Hi honey, did you sleep well?" Max asked playfully, in the perfect mood for jokes since he himself was fine after last night.

Lando just blinked several times and wanted to wipe his face with his hands and collect some words to answer, but when he touched his cut nose, he cursed loudly.

"What the fuck?"

"A souvenir from yesterday," the girl answered him, getting up from the couch and taking out a frozen package from the fridge, which she handed to him, "I recommend a shower and I'll make you some coffee."

He closed his eyes and put the package to his nose, sighing and grabbing the bathroom door handle. Before he disappeared, Max just shouted after him.

"And don't puke in the shower!"

#f1 imagines #f1 #f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #f1 imagine #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #max verstappen #mv1 #mv33 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you

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vampirecorleone · 6 months ago

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gh0stsp1d3r · 9 months ago

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ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

the prologue- piece of shit

Series masterlist

Warnings- mental/physical abuse, neglect, mentions of blood, read at ur own risk

“J.” You sighed in relief when he came out, wrapping your arms around him quickly and tightly.

“Hey, y/n.” He mumbled, returning the gesture.

You all walked outside, your heart sinking with each step.

“I wonder what restitutions gonna be on a 2019 Malibu.”

“I’ll pay it off. All of it. I swear, dad.” JJ said.

“Shit. 30k? When you gonna clear that, big guy? When all you do is smoke weed and hang out on the south side?”

JJ looked at the ground, you worried for him as you both stopped in front of the car.

“Get in the car.” Luke spoke, getting into the drivers. “Let’s go.”

You looked at JJ, giving him a small smile and patting his shoulder before going into the backseat.

JJ sat, Luke staring ahead at the street in front of him.

“Dad, I swear-“

JJ was cut off when your dad lunged at him, punching him. You let out a scream, trying to stop your dad and pull him off, but he just pushed you back into the seat.

Luke got on top of him, JJ struggled against him.

“Thirty thousand dollars! Do you know what you did to me? Damn-“ he yelled, JJ groaning in pain.

You shouted in the back seat, sobbing out your brothers name while your dad and him argued, your dad hitting him multiple times, his blood splattering onto the windows.

You desperately tried to grab your father’s hands, try to pull them away, but he just slapped your hands away, all his focus still on JJ, who he felt had disrespected him.

You shouted and cried, JJ leaning his head against the bloody window as your father finally stopped, leaning back in his seat.

—-

The drive back was Luke shouting at JJ, while you tried to intervene from time to time.

“Dad, that wasn’t his fault, It wa-“

“You, shut up! I told you already, young lady, stop tryna defend him!” He slammed his hand onto the steering wheel, you swallowing the lump in your throat.

JJ had glanced back from the side, shaking his head at you, his way of telling you to stop. When you got back home, JJ stormed into his room, pacing.

You began to follow JJ before your dad stopped you.

“Jesus, stop followin’ him. Go get me a fuckin’ beer. Or two.” He said to you, nodding over to the kitchen. You sighed, going into the kitchen and grabbing two bottles, handing them to him. He popped them open and began to shout again, making you flinch.

“By sittin’ around doing nothing! I’m gonna tell you right now, you are a worthless piece of shit!” Luke shouted.

You felt terrible, scratching at your skin as you looked down at the floor, you felt like a failure of an older sister. Always at your dad’s beck and call- it was why he had a little bit of a soft spot for you. He didn’t hit you as much as he did JJ.

No, he more so liked to throw misogynistic comments at you. Or call you names, or toss insults and scream and yell. But he rarely hit you- only when you did something truly to piss him off.

Like that one time when you showed up to school and had told some counselor about what he did. You were 13 at that time and he never forgot about it.

But JJ always got the worst end of it, he was the one getting hit more than anything, you didn’t know whether it was because of your mom or whether it was because of his rebellious nature.

“Shut up!” He shouted from inside his room, pacing it with his hands tugging at the roots of his hair.

“Your mama knew.”

“Shut up!” He was enraged at the mention of his mom, God he hated it. Your heart sunk at it.

JJ threw things around the room, growling and screaming in anger, they continued to go back and fourth for a while.

“Get your ass in here!” Luke shouted, you watched the two argue again for a while, things escalating until you broke it up.

“Dad, dad, chill out, okay? It’s done.” You spoke, putting your hands on your dad’s chest. He heaved, JJ stepped back away from him.

“Why do you always fuckin’ protect him?” He asked you now, looking down at you.

You didn’t answer, just looked back down to the ground.

“Huh? I asked you a question! Why, y/n?!” He scoffed. You shook your head and began to cry again.

Luke backed away, shaking his head as he sat back down onto the couch.

“God, I raised a bunch of fucking losers.” He mumbled with a laugh, taking another sip of his beer.

Finally, Luke had fallen asleep and you and JJ were left alone out in the living room.

“Jj..” you mumbled, sitting in front of him now with a bandage and some alcohol.

He breathed heavily, not glancing up at you.

“Can you let me clean it at least?” You whispered to him, tears falling down your face again. He looked at you now, and back at his dad.

“Please?” You pleaded, he didn’t say anything as you dabbed his face with a cloth full of alcohol.

“Sorry.” You told him when he winced in pain. He didn’t respond. You grabbed a pink bandaid- the only ones left you had, putting it onto his face and sighing, standing up again.

He wordlessly walked to his room, packing a bag full of clothes and other things. You furrowed your eyebrows, eyes following his every move.

“J?” You questioned when he stood at the door, bag slung over his shoulder. You stood up, going to him now.

“I gotta go, y/n. I can’t be here.” He told you, your hands going to his face, rubbing off the dirt he had.

“What? Jj, I- I mean I know tha-“

“You should leave too.” He told you, you shaking your head.

“I- JJ, I get it, I do, but I- I mean-“

“I gotta go, y/n. I can’t do this anymore. I’m not goin’ to.”

“Are you gonna be back- or- or-“ you stuttered out.

He shook his head. “If you need anything, I’m at John B’s. You know that.” He held back tears of his own.

“Jj, what about- you’re just leaving me?”

“Then come with me-“

“I can’t! I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.” You whispered to him, shaking your head. “I can’t, JJ.”

“I’m sorry.” He said again, pushing your hand away from his face.

“J- JJ- are you serious right now?” You laughed like it was some sick joke, following him outside, he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“JJ!” You shouted as he started his bike and drove away, giving you one last glance.

“Fuck.” You cried out, sitting on the grass, putting your hands over your head. You were completely and utterly alone.

—-

JJ didn’t talk to you for months after that, you’d been busy taking care of your dad and make sure he didn’t end up in jail again.

And you ended up paying off the 30k, slowly and gradually with the money you had saved up for college or a car. You didn’t know what for, really. Just saved it up since you were 10.

Along with that, you’d taken on three jobs. Things seemed okay for a little, you had a boyfriend for a few months, Luke was out of jail, and you had managed to keep three steady jobs for a while.

That was until JJ showed up again, taking the keys to the phantom. Everything changed after that.

#jj maybank x sister reader #jj maybank x reader #maybanks sister #maybank!reader #jj maybank x y/n #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron x reader

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mononijikayu · 6 months ago

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marutsuke — gojo satoru.

You smiled back, though it was small and fleeting. "You could start now, you know." Satoru let out a soft laugh, the sound almost bitter, but there was a hint of something lighter underneath it. He took another sip of his drink, shaking his head slightly. "You’re asking a lot of me right now, Gen–senpai. You know that?" "I’m just asking you to be human, Gojo–kun." you replied softly. “Just be yourself.”

WARNING/S: post-hidden inventory (2006-onwards), domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

WORDS: 5.3k words.

NOTE: i wrote this a long long while ago and to celebrate jjk ending, i would like to give this as a humble offering. i've been a fan of jjk since 2019, when my friend introduced it to me. jjk means the world to me. it was there for me as much as bts was in my harsh and painful years. i am most grateful to share and continue to share the joy of it here in my little corner of the world. thank you guys for sharing the love of jjk with me. you guys are amazing. i love you guys so much. let's continue to be fans together for a long time!!! also the song is from given. its a lovely song <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

if you want to, tip! <3

YOU HATED THIS FEELING, YOU HATED REPETITION LIKE THIS. You stood in the dimly lit hallway, fists clenched, your eyes burning with fury as you learned what had happened to the first years. The mission had gone horribly wrong, and Haibara—kind, hopeful Haibara—was dead. Nanami barely made it back. You trembled with rage, unable to process the incompetence that had led to this.

It was just like this when it was Namie.

Your mind flashed back to the past, to the same helplessness, the same sickening weight that had crushed your chest when Namie, your dear friend, had been sent out on a mission with faulty intelligence. They hadn’t even gotten her body back. You remembered the emptiness, the cold fury that took root inside you ever since.

And then there was Amanai Riko. Another loss, another innocent life extinguished because of their arrogance, their reckless disregard for the lives they swore to protect. Your nails bit into your palms as you fought back the wave of grief and anger.

And now... now Haibara.

Another young life, snuffed out before it could even truly begin. Your breath came in short, ragged bursts as the memories collided with the present, your fury building to a boiling point. You had warned them. You had fought, had demanded better, and yet nothing had changed.

"How many more?" you whispered to yourself, your voice trembling with fury. "How many more have to die before they open their eyes?"

"They had faulty intelligence," you spat, your voice laced with venom. "Faulty intelligence, and they sent them in blind. Blind!"

Your words echoed down the empty corridor, but it wasn’t enough to release the fury simmering inside you. You stormed forward, your footsteps heavy with the weight of your anger, the hallway dim and suffocating as you advanced. The rage that coursed through your veins was more than just anger—it was righteous fury, the kind that demanded answers, demanded justice for those who had fallen.

You didn’t care about decorum or procedure. Not now. Not when another life had been so carelessly thrown away.

The sight of the mission manager at the end of the hall, sitting casually at his desk, only fueled the fire inside you. He looked up, his expression one of mild surprise as you approached—indifferent, as if the death of a student was nothing more than an inconvenience, a casualty of duty.

Indifference. That look—the one that dismissed Haibara as just another statistic, another name on a growing list of losses. It ignited something in you that was barely contained.

"You!" you hissed, your voice trembling with the intensity of your rage. The air around you seemed to crackle with tension as you marched up to the manager’s desk, eyes blazing. "You sent them in blind! Faulty intelligence, and you signed off on it like it didn’t matter! Haibara is dead because of you!"

The manager blinked, clearly taken aback by your outburst, but his calm exterior didn’t waver. He leaned back in his chair, hands folded calmly in his lap, as if he was used to this—used to the accusations, used to the aftermath. He probably expected you to eventually calm down, to accept that this was just the way things were.

But you weren’t going to calm down. Not this time.

“You think this is acceptable?" you seethed, leaning over his desk. "You think sending kids in with faulty information is just part of the job? You didn’t care about what would happen to them—you cared about following protocol, making sure you checked off the boxes so you could wipe your hands clean when it went wrong."

The manager gave a slight sigh, adjusting his glasses as if the whole situation was an inconvenience. "These missions come with risks, you know that. It’s unfortunate, but we—"

"Unfortunate?" your voice rose, fury spilling over. "You think this is just 'unfortunate'? Haibara’s dead because of your incompetence, and all you can say is that it’s unfortunate?"

The manager’s lips thinned, his calm demeanor wavering for just a moment. "We did the best we could with the information we had. It’s not always perfect—"

You slammed your hands down on the desk, silencing him immediately. Your face was inches from his now, your voice low and lethal. "No. You didn’t do the best you could. You cut corners, and you sent them in knowing it wasn’t safe. You sat behind this desk while they went out there, while they—" Your voice caught for a moment, thinking of Haibara, of Namie, of Riko. "You have no idea what it’s like to lose someone because of your arrogance."

The manager didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. His silence was answer enough.

Your fists clenched again, your whole body trembling with the effort to contain your rage. You wanted to scream, to tear this entire building apart, but all you could do was stare at the man who had signed Haibara’s death warrant with his negligence. The worst part was you knew it would happen again. As long as people like him kept making decisions, more lives would be lost.

“That’s enough.” That familiar voice. You stopped.

“You piece of shit!” you snarled, your energy crackling dangerously. You lunged, but before you could strike, Yaga intervened, gripping your arms to hold you back.

You whipped around, your rage now directed at Yaga. “You! I warned you. I fucking warned you! But you listened to those old farts, didn’t you? You think it’s okay to send them in, even blindly.” Your voice cracked with fury, your eyes burning into Yaga’s. “And now, you’re stuck having to explain to Haibara’s parents why their son isn’t alive! That blood is on your hands!”

Yaga’s grip remained firm, but his expression darkened as you pressed on.

“My father would be ashamed of you,” you said, your voice low, bitter. “You’ve become exactly what he stood against.”

Yaga’s eyes hardened at your words, but he didn’t let go. He knew your anger wasn’t just at him—it was at the system, at the higher-ups, at the entire broken system that cost Haibara his life. But your words cut deep. Mentioning your father, a man Yaga once respected, felt like a blade twisted into his gut.

"Genmei," Yaga said, his voice steady but tense, "I didn't want this. You think I don’t care? You think I don’t feel the weight of it? I never wanted to send them in like that."

"Then why did you?" you snapped, stepping closer, your face inches from his, rage seething in every word. "You could’ve stopped it. You had the authority! Instead, you caved to those senile cowards who sit behind desks, making decisions they’ll never face the consequences of."

Yaga's jaw clenched, his voice growing colder. "You think I had a choice? You think I didn’t fight back? The orders came from the top, Genmei! From people I can’t defy."

You shook your head, trembling with disbelief. "So that’s it? You just roll over and let it happen? You tell them it’s fine to send kids like Haibara to their deaths? You and those spineless managers let them go out there—for nothing."

Yaga's grip on your arms tightened slightly, but his voice remained calm. "I know you’re angry. I know this isn’t fair. But it wasn’t blind. They were prepared."

“Prepared?!” Your laughter was bitter and sharp. “You call this prepared? Haibara is dead! Nanami is broken. And now you have to look those parents in the eye and tell them their son is never coming home."

Yaga’s silence spoke louder than anything. The weight of what you said settled in, his posture stiffening with the responsibility he bore. He hadn’t spoken to Haibara’s parents yet, but he would have to. And the thought of it, the unbearable weight of it, gnawed at him.

"Every single student is my responsibility, you know that." Yaga finally said, his voice quieter now, though no less strained. "I carry that burden every day. You think I don’t feel it? That it doesn’t tear me apart? But I don’t have the luxury of rage. I have to keep moving, keep fighting—for the ones who are still here."

Your hands fell to your sides, anger simmering down to a bitter ache. You looked at Yaga, your voice softer but no less furious. "They trusted you. We trusted you. And now we’re left with nothing but grief. Don’t you dare try to justify this."

Yaga looked away, his jaw clenched. "I’m not trying to justify it. There’s no justification for it. But you think I haven’t warned them, too? We both know how they operate. But my hands—"

"Don’t tell me about your hands being tied." you interrupted, your voice sharp. "You had more than just orders. You had a choice. And Haibara Yu’s blood is on all of us for not stopping it. And I'm sure....too sure. That there will be many more. All because you can't fight against those old farts."

Silence hung between you, heavy and suffocating. Yaga’s grip on your arms loosened, his expression still hardened by guilt and responsibility. He knew it too well, he knew that it was also his fault. And perhaps, in truth, you didn't blame him that much. You knew there was nothing a teacher can do against the whole of Jujutsu society. But you can't help but be angry. Just like at your father's funeral. And that too, Yaga blames himself.

“I’m going to make them pay for this.” you said in a low, deadly voice, your anger no longer explosive but cold and resolute. “The ones responsible, the ones who allowed this to happen—they’ll know exactly what they’ve one.”

Yaga met your eyes, his voice quiet but firm. "Don’t let your anger consume you. Your father would say the same thing. This world is already full of enough darkness."

Your expression didn’t change, unfazed. "Maybe it needs a little more darkness before it can see the light. My father also knew about that."

YOU WANTED TO HAVE A SMOKE. But you were sure that the sprinklers would alert people. So you went against it. You stormed out of the manager’s office, your fury barely contained as you made your way down the empty corridor.

The cold, sterile walls felt suffocating, your mind clouded with the weight of it all—Haibara’s death, Nanami’s devastation, the recklessness of the higher-ups. You needed to see him, to confront the harsh reality of what their negligence had wrought.

The morgue was dimly lit, its stillness heavy with the presence of death. You moved quietly, but your footsteps faltered as you approached. Standing just outside, you heard voices—low, tense. You stopped.

"Why not let Gojo take care of everything?" a bitter voice sneered. It was Nanami Kento.

Your breath caught in your throat as you recognized that tone. Nanami’s words were sharp, laced with exhaustion and frustration, and just as the retort began to form on your lips, another voice cut through—calm, but strained.

"Nanami, that’s enough," Geto Suguru’s voice was tired, a weariness that weighed down each syllable. "This isn’t about Satoru. Don’t take your anger out on him just because you feel helpless. We all do."

Helpless.

The word hit you like a punch to the gut. Your body froze as Nanami’s bitter words echoed in your ears, triggering a flood of memories you had buried deep. You could still see the way Kaiko had looked at you after Namie’s death, the sharp, accusatory words that came spilling out, venomous and cruel.

"Why not let Genmei take care of everything, huh? She’s always so sure of herself, isn’t she?" Kamo Kaiko had sneered, the pain of loss warping into something uglier, something that wanted to hurt others. The same helplessness Nanami was drowning in now.

You had seen the look in Kaiko’s eyes—the same bitterness, the same exhaustion, the same desperation to place the blame somewhere, anywhere, other than the black void of grief you were all struggling to survive. And you had tried to calm Kaiko down, tried to reason with her, but the pain had been too raw, too fresh. It had escalated. Words had become fists, and by the time it was over, you were both broken in different ways. You never spoke again after that fight.

Now, hearing Nanami’s voice, the echoes of Kaiko’s bitterness in every word, your heart clenched. You couldn’t let this spiral the same way.

You stepped forward, your presence quiet but commanding. The shadows shifted as you moved, your eyes falling on Nanami, who stood rigid, his face a mask of exhaustion and grief. Geto Suguru leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his own weariness mirrored in his posture. He looked over Haibara’s body, as though he was in a trance. He was shell–shocked, you think.

"That’s enough." you said, your voice calm but firm, the weight of your past mixing with the present. You couldn’t watch this play out the same way it had before. "This isn’t about blame. None of this is about whose responsibility it is to fix things."

Nanami flinched slightly at the sound of your voice, his jaw tightening as he avoided your gaze. But you knew what he was feeling because you had been there. You had stood in his shoes, grappling with the same rage, the same helplessness, when you lost Namie.

"It’s not Gojo–kun’s fault, you know that." you continued, stepping closer, your voice softer now. "And it’s not yours. Haibara’s death wasn’t something you could have prevented. Not under these circumstances."

Nanami's fists clenched at his sides, the tension in his body radiating outwards. "I could have, senpai." he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I should have."

"No." you said firmly, your voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "This wasn’t on you. Don’t let the guilt consume you, Nanami. I’ve seen it before, and I know where it leads."

The memories of Kaiko haunted you, the way grief had hollowed her out, leaving her with nothing but resentment and bitterness. You couldn’t let that happen to Nanami. Not again. This doesn’t have to continue. No one else has to suffer.

"Listen to Geto–kun, okay?" you added, your gaze softening as you looked at him. "We all feel helpless. But turning against each other won’t bring Haibara back."

Nanami’s shoulders slumped slightly, the tension in his body giving way to something closer to defeat. He didn’t respond, but you knew your words had reached him. Turning away from them, you took a breath and steel yourself. You still had one last thing to do, no matter how much it hurt.

You had to say goodbye to Haibara.

You walked out of the room, the heaviness of the conversation weighing on your shoulders. You pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway, your emotions a turbulent storm beneath the surface. Your eyes immediately caught sight of Satoru, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed.

You knew, just by the way he stood, that he had heard everything. There was no need for words. His expression wasn’t the usual carefree mask he wore—it was more serious, though his eyes were still bright behind his dark shades, silently watching you.

You sighed, your frustration and exhaustion bubbling up. Without a word, you stepped closer to him and gently placed your hands over his ears, your palms lightly cupping the sides of his head. The sudden movement caught him off guard, and his eyes widened, blinking in surprise. He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to understand what you were doing.

Don’t listen, you mouthed, your lips forming the words slowly and deliberately, knowing he would understand.

For a moment, Satoru just stared at you, his gaze flickering between confusion and something softer, almost curious. His lips pressed into a flat line, and after a heartbeat of silence, he nodded, an unspoken agreement passing between you.

He wasn’t going to argue. Not this time.

You let your hands fall from his ears, giving him a weary look. There was nothing more to say. You both knew the weight of everything that had happened, and for once, Satoru didn’t push. He just stood there, understanding what you couldn’t put into words. The hallway stretched ahead of you, quiet and still, but the heaviness lingered in the air.

You let your hands fall from Satoru's ears, giving him a weary look. There was nothing more to say. You both knew the weight of everything that had happened, and for once, Satoru didn’t push. He just stood there, understanding what you couldn’t put into words. The hallway stretched ahead, quiet and still, but the heaviness lingered in the air.

The two of you wandered outside in silence, the weight of recent events hanging heavily between you. The cold night air bit at your skin, a stark contrast to the suffocating heat of the emotions you both carried. You led the way toward the vending machines just outside the building, the quiet hum of them the only sound in the stillness.

You didn’t need to look at Satoru to know he was thinking about everything that had happened. It was rare for him to be this quiet, this subdued. You pressed the buttons on the machine without a word, watching the drinks tumble down with a soft thud. You handed one to him, the cold condensation clinging to your fingers as you took your own.

Satoru cracked open the can, the fizz breaking the silence between you. You took a slow sip of your drink before finally speaking.

“It’s not your fault, you know.” you said quietly, your voice steady but carrying the weight of someone who had seen this all before. "You can’t blame yourself for what happened."

Satoru didn’t respond right away. He took a long drink, his gaze fixed on the horizon, the usual brightness in his eyes dimmed by something heavier, more complex. He leaned against the vending machine, one hand loosely holding the can, the other shoved in his pocket. His shades were off now, dangling from his collar.

“I think it is, Genmei–senpai.” he finally said, his voice low, almost resigned. His gaze drifted down to the ground. “If I were just a little stronger, a little faster... if I had trained them better, maybe… maybe they wouldn’t be dead.”

Your chest tightened. You had heard these words before, a thousand times in different voices. From yourself, from others who had lost people they cared about. It was the familiar cycle of grief and guilt. Gojo Satoru doesn’t easily fuss over his feelings. This was the first time truly, you think, that he’d willingly told you what he felt. Without you having to ask. In a way, you think that has reminded you of yourself, even for a little bit.

"You can't control everything, Gojo–kun." you replied softly, stepping beside him. "Not even you. It wasn’t your decision to send them on that mission. You weren’t the one who messed up the intel. And you’re not the one who could have stopped it from going wrong."

He clenched his jaw, clearly wrestling with the weight of his own thoughts. Gojo Satoru—the strongest sorcerer alive, the one who always acted like nothing could touch him—was grappling with the very human feeling of failure. It was a rare sight, one that he kept hidden behind his usual bravado. But here, in the quiet, there was no mask to hide behind.

"Being strong doesn’t mean being able to protect everyone. That’s impossible." you added, your voice quiet but firm. "Trust me, I know. We all do."

Satoru stared at his drink, the carbonation slowly rising to the surface. He let out a long breath, his fingers tightening around the can as if holding on to something he couldn’t quite grasp.

"I don’t know if I can ever believe that, you know?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "If I’m not strong enough to protect them, then what’s the point of being the strongest?"

You didn’t answer right away. You let his words hang in the air, knowing that there was no simple reply that could ease his burden. The truth was, you understood. You had felt the same way when your precious Namie died, when Amanai Riko was killed. The strength to protect felt meaningless when it failed you.

But you also knew that blaming yourself for every loss would only eat away at you, piece by piece. And you knew better than to wallow in it all. You wouldn’t be able to get up from your bed if it's all that consumes you. You didn’t want your dreams. You wanted to be awake. In your dreams, it was regret. In your reality, it was moving forward. And you’d choose a thousand cigarettes then see Namie’s eyes look at you like that again. You’d choose days awake rather than seeing Kaiko take her last breaths right in front of you again.

"The point, Gojo–kun," you finally said, your voice softer now, "is that you’re human. No matter how strong you are, no matter what kind of power you have, you’re still human, Gojo–kun. And that means sometimes... you’ll fail. It doesn’t make you any less strong. It just makes you... you."

He looked at you then, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his bright cerulean eyes—an acknowledgment, maybe. He didn’t argue, didn’t dismiss your words like he normally would. Instead, he just took another sip of his drink and nodded slightly.

“Maybe……” he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.

You stood there in the quiet, the weight of your conversation lingering in the cold night air. For once, there were no easy answers, no quick fixes. Just two people, sharing a drink, carrying the same burden of loss.

You tilted your head back slightly, looking up at the night sky. The stars were faint tonight, dimmed by the city lights, much like how everything felt dulled in the aftermath of grief. You took another sip from your drink, letting the cool liquid ground you in the present, away from the spiraling thoughts of what could have been.

After a long silence, you spoke again, your tone quieter, almost contemplative. "You know, you don’t always have to carry everything by yourself, Gojo–kun."

He glanced at you, but didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still clouded with that familiar weight.

"I know you feel like it’s all on you, Gojo–kun." you continued, turning your gaze to him. "Like you're responsible for every life, every outcome. But you're not. And it’s okay to feel... this way. To feel like you’ve failed. But that doesn’t mean you have."

Satoru stared at the ground, the quiet stretching on for a few heartbeats. Then, without looking at you, he spoke, his voice softer than before. “You say that like you don’t carry it, too.”

Your grip on the can tightened slightly. You felt the truth of his words settle uncomfortably in your chest. You did carry it—always had. The weight of those you couldn’t save, the memories of missions gone wrong, the faces of the dead. You carried them all, and sometimes it felt like too much. But that wasn’t something you would admit to easily.

"You’re right. Your senpai’s a hypocrite." you said after a pause, your voice barely above a whisper. A weary smile on your lips. "I do, don’t I? But I’m learning how to let some of it go. To not let it destroy me…..I have to learn, as you do.”

Satoru finally looked at you, his gaze searching, as if he was trying to understand something he couldn’t quite grasp. There was a vulnerability in his expression, one that he rarely let show. You know that you knew the answer. And so does he. But it was easy to ignore, when you’re given the world to carry.

"How?" he asked, his voice quiet, almost hesitant.

You looked away, your eyes drifting back up to the sky. "By realizing that it’s not all on me. That I’m not the only one who’s hurting. And by letting people in, even when I don’t want to. It’s not easy, and I’m still figuring it out... but I’m trying."

Satoru was silent, processing your words. You knew how hard it was for him to let people in, to show any weakness. He had built walls so high that even those closest to him struggled to see through them. But here, in this quiet moment, you could feel those walls cracking, if only just a little.

“I guess I’ll have to try that sometime.” he muttered, his lips curling into a faint, tired smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You smiled back, though it was small and fleeting. "You could start now, you know."

Satoru let out a soft laugh, the sound almost bitter, but there was a hint of something lighter underneath it. He took another sip of his drink, shaking his head slightly. "You’re asking a lot of me right now, Gen–senpai. You know that?"

"I’m just asking you to be human, Gojo–kun." you replied softly. “Just be yourself.”

The silence that followed wasn’t as heavy as before. It was the kind of quiet that settled between people who understood each other, who didn’t need to fill the space with empty words.

After a while, Gojo Satoru straightened up, his usual mask of nonchalance slipping back into place. But something had changed, even if just a little. He glanced at you, a glimmer of his old self returning to his eyes.

"Alright." he said, pushing off from the vending machine. "I’ll try not to carry everything on my back... but don’t expect me to go soft, okay? Can’t have everyone thinking I’m losing my touch."

You rolled your eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at your lips. "Wouldn’t dream of it, Gojo–kun."

He chuckled, tossing his empty can into the recycling bin with a casual flick of his wrist. “Good. Now, how about we get out of here? There’s only so much doom and gloom a guy can take. I wanna go and eat some burgers! Oh, oh and have a milkshake. Come on Gen-senpai! Don't be such a slow poke!”

You watched as he started walking away, his usual swagger returning to his step. Despite everything, despite the grief and the guilt, he was still Satoru Gojo. And that, in its own way, was comforting. You lingered for a moment, finishing off your drink before following him. The weight of the night hadn’t disappeared, but somehow, it felt a little easier to bear now.

epilogue

The afternoon sun bathed the park in a warm, golden glow, casting everything in a soft light that made the moment feel almost timeless. It was a day without expectations or duties—a rare occasion for you and Satoru, a time when neither of you needed to be the strongest sorcerers alive. Instead, you were just yourselves, surrounded by the warmth of your little family.

You sat on a bench under the shade of a sprawling tree, the leaves swaying gently in the breeze. From your seat, you watched Tsumiki and Megumi, their carefree laughter ringing out as they chased each other across the grass.

Fushiguro Megumi’s small smile hinted at how much he enjoyed these quiet moments with his sister, even though he pretended to let her win. His protectiveness over Tsumiki was subtle but undeniable, and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched their innocent game unfold.

Beside you, Satoru was sprawled out lazily on the bench, his sunglasses resting atop his head, soaking in the warmth of the sun. Satoshi, your energetic bundle of joy, was clinging to his father’s arm, trying to climb him like he was a human jungle gym. The sight of Satoru—so relaxed and utterly at ease—was a rare one, a moment where he let down his guard completely.

“Baby!” Satoru said, glancing over at you with a mischievous grin. “I think our son’s trying to take me down. Think he’s got the makings of a future jujutsu sorcerer?”

You chuckled, brushing a few strands of Satoshi’s hair out of his eyes. “Maybe he’s just training to be strong like you, don’t you think?” you teased, giving Satoru a playful look. “You’ll have to watch out—he might surpass you one day.”

Satoru sat up dramatically, hoisting Satoshi into his lap. “Surpass me? Oh no, not on my watch!” He declared, tickling your son until Satoshi was giggling uncontrollably. “Satoshi, my little dawn, promise me you won’t steal my title as the strongest!”

Gojo Satoshi, between fits of laughter, batted at his father’s chest. “Papa! No tickle!”

The sound of your son’s pure joy, Satoru’s playful antics, and the peace of this moment filled your heart. For once, there was no looming threat, no mission pulling you away. It was just the simple beauty of a family enjoying a sunny day.

Megumi, a little winded from chasing his sister, wandered over with his usual stoic expression, though you could see the faintest trace of a smile. You couldn’t resist teasing him. “Are you done showing off?”

Megumi shrugged, his tone as nonchalant as ever. “I wasn’t showing off. Tsumiki just needed to win.”

Satoru reached out and ruffled Megumi’s hair affectionately. “Such a gentleman. You’re really going soft on your sister, huh?”

Though Megumi swatted Satoru’s hand away, his eyes softened. “......She deserves it” he mumbled, trying to keep his fondness for Tsumiki hidden.

Tsumiki, noticing the conversation, ran over, her cheeks flushed from the chase. She flopped down onto the grass beside Megumi, leaning against him with a contented sigh. The two siblings sat close together, exchanging quiet smiles. You could see how much they meant to each other—the bond that had formed between them was one of the most precious things in your life.

Satoru stretched out his legs, balancing Satoshi on his knee. “You know, I think this is nice.” he said, his tone suddenly thoughtful. “We should do this more often.”

You turned to look at him, curious. “Do what? Actually relax?”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah. I like this better—just us. Just our little family, you know? No titles, no missions. Just being.”

There was something so genuine in the way he said it. You leaned into him slightly, reaching for his hand, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours. “I like this too, you know?” you said softly, squeezing his hand.

He smiles back at you with the most beautiful, warm gaze. He squeezes your hand back. “I know.”

Megumi and Tsumiki sat quietly, watching your interaction with curiosity but not interrupting. You could tell they were starting to understand the unspoken bond you and Satoru shared—the love that transcended the roles you played in the world.

Satoru let out a soft sigh, leaning back against the bench, tugging you closer. Satoshi, who had grown tired from all the excitement, settled comfortably in his father’s lap, his small hands gripping Satoru’s shirt. The park, bathed in the soft afternoon light, seemed to wrap you all in a blanket of calm.

“If you weren’t around to keep me sane…..” Satoru mused, glancing over at you. “I might’ve forgotten what a day off even feels like.”

You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder. “Oh, I’m sure you’d figure it out. You’ve always been good at pretending the world’s problems don’t exist.”

Satoru grinned, though there was a softness to his voice. “Maybe. But this…” He looked down at Satoshi, then over at Megumi and Tsumiki, who were now engrossed in their own conversation. “This is real. This is what matters.”

His words struck a chord in you. For so long, your lives had revolved around the constant threat of danger, the weight of responsibility. But here, at this moment, it was just the four of you—your makeshift family—enjoying a quiet afternoon in the park.

Leaning into Satoru’s warmth, you whispered, “Yeah, this is what it’s all about.”

The park’s hum continued around you: the distant laughter of children, the rustling leaves, and the occasional chirp of birds. But in your little bubble, time seemed to slow down. For a moment, there was no past, no future—just the present, where everything felt exactly as it should.

You rested your head on Satoru’s shoulder, Satoshi nestled between you both, and Megumi and Tsumiki chatting softly beside you. In this quiet, peaceful moment, you realized that despite the chaos of your lives, these simple, precious moments made all the struggles worth it.

And for now, that was more than enough.

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shortnotsweet · 1 year ago

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[ “REMEMBER WHEN” ]:

I CAN STILL SEE YOU AT THE PLACE OUT THERE WHEN I CLOSE MY EYES. DO YOU REMEMBER WHEN WE FELT LIKE THE ONLY TWO ALIVE? DON’T LET ME BE ONE OF THE PEOPLE WHO SEEKS A LOST ROMANCE. WOULD YOU GO AND DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN GIVEN THE CHANCE?

— WALLOWS, NOTHING HAPPENS (2019)

Laena had known Rhaenyra since the two were only girls. They were the closest of friends—closer, even—under the watchful eyes of the castle and the upturned nose of the queen. Queen Alicent had a lovely face befitting for a lady and a brittle, jealous demeanor appropriate for a wicked stepmother. As much as Rhaenyra was drawn to her, she equally sought reprieve. Laena hardly worried, however, as Rhaenyra had the men, steel, and fortitude to rescue herself. It was only a matter of time.

In this AU, Rhaenyra’s older stepmother, Alicent, remains a contrary source of vitriol, intrigue, and affection. Her fixation on her stepdaughter evolves, until her envy is not only of her, but those who love her and are loved in return. Laena is clearly one of those people, and has earned the favor of the nobility in her own right. She wears gowns of silver, blue, and gold, and will become one of the most revered dragon riders of their generation. What else can she inspire but awe and envy? To Rhaenyra, it seems that tenderness is there, and maybe relief. Fondness is the word. It leaves a bad, coppery taste in Alicent’s mouth. Alicent doesn’t have hardly anyone to be fond of in this wretched place. Her children, perhaps, however many she’ll have. Or her husband, her father, or noble, dejected Criston Cole. And—well. No. It’s out of the question. Still. What compares to the camaraderie of shared girlhood? Like knows like, a dragon and dragon sharing the sky.

Laena is Rhaenyra’s first love and closest friend, and the two toe an ambiguous line between platonic and romantic. While they may never wed, their affinity towards one another is an open secret and there is an implicit understanding between families that should Rhaenyra be forced to wed Laena’s brother, arrangements will be made. It is, after all, hardly the first time such agreements have been enacted. Alicent is disgusted, of course; marriage between and man and woman should stay that way. She’s seen the wandering eyes and shared smiles, and something low in her gut twists in revulsion, and for some reason, hurt. Why are they free to do what they want and with whomever they please? No one is free here, not even the blood of the dragon.

Laena and Rhaenyra are both young women, not quite adults yet. In this imaginary timeline, Rhaenyra enjoys a relatively smooth few years before she is forced to take up a sword against traitors and defend her own right to the throne. Despite their complicated history, Alicent’s role in a usurpation attempt on Rhaenyra’s crown has been discovered. Laena reassures her not only of her own conviction and loyalty, but reminds her of the gossip and hurt Alicent has inflicted in the past, rooted in her own resent.

#laenyra #rhaenicent #rhaenyra targaryen #laena velaryon #alicent hightower #house of the dragon #rhaenyra x laena #hotd #my art #return of the jealous older stepmother au but this time its focused on laena. in this au she never has to marry daemon and she and Rhaenyra #get to live out their summer lovers agenda potential as they were always meant to do

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radioactive-earthshine · 22 days ago

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Hi! Im sorry if this is a silly question but I was wondering if you know what the Flash diabetes thing is? I've seen it around occasionally but never found out if it was a canon one off thing or a fanon group theory because on one hand I can kinda see it making sense although it would probably have to be re-worked to fit a speedsters bodily profile (in terms of their hyper-metabolism and all) but then on the other hand I'm reminded of the times I've read YJ fanfic and out of nowhere Bart is taking ADHD medication and I'm like.. he would not be able to take ADHD meds and actually feel a difference for more than maybe 3 seconds as seen with general painkillers and medication when he had the knee surgery with nothing. I just can't help but feel like, in canon, neither of these theories/situations would be possible but then again fanon is meant to be fun,, not serious etc. How do you draw the line?

Hello!

I have NEVER heard of it phrased as "Flash diabetes" but looking over the meat of your question it appears this is more about their metabolism, so I am approaching this as a metabolism question rather than a blood-sugar question.

When it comes to speedsters and their metabolism in the comics, it is very inconsistent and it honestly depends on the writer and what would be most exciting or inconvenient the most in any given scenario.

On one hand, the prevailing canon is that speedsters heal FAST. Their metabolism is so high they can get over broken bones, lacerations, even gunshots very quickly. We even have instances of them getting over drugs very quickly or drugs just not impacting them the way they should, because they metabolize them too fast for them to work.

The biggest in-comic example of this is Bart's famous knee surgery in Teen Titans v.3 when they were unable to put him under ANY anesthetic because his metabolism would negate its effectiveness.

Teen Titans (2003) #3

(Side note, the amount of laws broken in this scene would have probably shut that entire hospital down, licensees would have been lost, and Cyborg probably should have done jail time or at least been kicked out of the tower because holy shit the ethics.)

Teen Titans (2003) #4

This scene is one of the more poignant and famous examples of speedster metabolism being a medical foil as much as it is an advantage in combat and it is extremely dramatic.

We also have a more recent example of drugs just not working properly on speedsters, from Bart yet again in more recent publication history.

Young Justice (2019) #16

Sedatives or maybe even some sort of anti-psychotics only stayed in Bart's systems for so long before they wore off well before they should have and he was able to just leave.

If these are pushed out of his system prematurely, then it is extremely unlikely any ADHD medication would work on him unless they were specially made for speedsters which is not outside of any realm of possibility in a comic.

However... because these are comics and because these sorts of foils are variable and depend on whoever is writing them we also have some evidence that certain things do work on speedsters... but in heightened ways such as caffeine which makes no sense and yet...

The Flash (2011) #3

Barry had an espresso and got so hopped up and jittery he lost control of his vibrating for a while and ended up through multiple floors. How caffeine works on them, and in extreme ways, but other drugs don't, is something maybe a biochemist can answer which I am not.

We also have decades of publication going back to the silver age of Barry and other speedsters interacting with drugs, poisons, alcohol and them not working or not working properly and the above examples are just those I knew I could cite easily because I think about them a lot.

So returning back to the question of if ADHD medication would work... I feel like again in the comics they wouldn't work how they are supposed to unless they are specialized because even the caffeine did not work how it is supposed to.

But again this is fanfic and fanon so anything is possible and with this particular subject it wouldn't be too outside of canon to have ADHD meds work. Again any writer could also explain them as special speedster-strength medication then it is good to go.

I hope this sort of answers your question?

This is for the comics and the comics alone, no other form of media.

#bart allen #barry allen #my meta #speedsters #flashfam #the flash #dc comics #again this is for the comics and the comics alone

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jokeroutsubs · 10 months ago

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Joker Out Masterpost for new fans

New fan of Joker Out? Say no more!

Getting to know a new artist you’ve found can be intimidating if it’s all in another language, so we’ve compiled some of our favourite interviews, articles and lore here! You’ve arrived in a wonderful fanbase, welcome from all of us here at JokerOutSubs!

If you’d just like a short overview of the band and their history, you can watch this excellent Finnish summary of them that we’ve translated (14m 53s).

youtube

But if you want to dive into the details, then check out our timeline, full of videos and articles translated by JokerOutSubs!

Timeline graphic:

Timeline in details below the cut 👇

Timeline in details:

How did the band form?

Joker Out was formed from two bands, Apokalipsa and Buržuazija.

Apokalipsa included Bojan Cvjetićanin (vocals), Martin Jurkovič (bass) and Matic Kovačič (drums)

They gained some traction with young people around Slovenia, particularly with their song 'Mogoče' ('Maybe'), which you can watch on YouTube here.

They came to the attention of Kris Guštin, who was inspired to start learning guitar! He discusses the details in this video (at 9:40).

Kris then met Jan Peteh, another student of his guitar teacher, and at their teachers advice, they formed the band Buržuazija.

Bojan attended their second ever gig in 2016, and decided these two excellent guitarists were exactly what had been missing from Apokalipsa, as he wasn’t happy with their current guitarists. He asked them to join, and they accepted

The new lineup (Bojan, Jan, Kris, Martin and Matic) decided to rename themselves Joker Out. The name means nothing, but they thought it sounded good and was the ‘least horrible’ of all the ideas they could think of.

So, in 2016, Joker Out was officially formed!

November 2016, Kot srce ki kri poganja:

Joker Out’s first music video was for their song ‘Kot srce ki kri poganja’ ('Like a heart that pumps blood'), filmed in Jan’s hometown of Vrhnika! We eventually got this song on Spotify on their 2023 album Live from Arena Stožice!

Music video: Kot srce ki kri poganja

English Interview (from 3:37 to 6:05): Joker Out discusses filming the music video

June 2017, Špil Liga:

One of the earliest performances for Joker Out was at Špil Liga, a competition for young bands in Slovenia. They won, and recorded their winning song, Omamljeno telo (intoxicated body) in November as part of the prize.

Live (33m): Joker Out at Špil liga

Interview (5m): Reflections on Špil Liga in 2023

c.2017/18, Bojan’s attempt at going solo:

The band took a hiatus c.2017/18, and Bojan considered going solo at that time, even working with a few producers. He eventually realised that he belonged with the band! Hear him tell the story:

Reel (1m 23s): A1 Vajb - Bojan’s fail

2019, A change up for the band:

The band began working with their current producer, Žare Pak, and their videographer Mark Pirc, in 2019 - both of whom have been referred to as the sixth member of the band. This led to a change in their sound and production quality, which culminated in ‘Gola’ ('Naked'), the first of their songs to be a big hit!

Music video: Gola

Zlata piščal ('Golden Flute') - Best New Artist 2019:

Joker Out won their first Zlata piščal award in 2019, for best new artist (one of many they’d go on to win!) This is a kind of Slovenian Grammy! Covid interrupted the proceedings, but you can see their interview for it here (3m 59s)-

Interview: Joker Out wins a Zlata piščal ('Golden Flute') for Best New Artist 2019

Umazane misli, and a new member:

During the Covid times, the band began recording their first studio album, 'Umazane misli' ('Dirty thoughts'), which was originally going to be released in March 2020 but was repeatedly delayed until October 2021. The first half was recorded with drummer Matic Kovačič, but the band felt they needed something extra and brought in Jure Maček to help write the arrangements. They loved him so much, he never left!

Interview (from 10:40 to 11:36): Bojan talks briefly about Jure joining the band

COVID times, and Cvetličarna:

The band had arranged to do two concerts at Cvetličarna, a very important venue in Slovenia and a big break for them. This was delayed several times due to Covid, but eventually managed to go ahead in October 2021 for the release of their first album.

Video (1m 14s): Cvetličarna promotional video

Live (1h 28m): Joker Out at Cvetličarna

Interview (34m 55s): Bojan discusses Cvetličarna, its importance, and Covid

Umazane misli album launch:

'Umazane misli' was extremely well received! The band would go on to win two more Zlata piščal awards, Newcomers of the Year in 2020 and Artist of the Year in 2021.

Interview (37m 08s): Umazane misli album presentation

An acting career for Bojan?

Around the same time as 'Umazane misli' was released, Bojan began considering an acting career. He acted in two episodes of the series ‘Gospod Professor’ and in another series, which was eventually reworked as a film called ‘Kaj pa Ester’ and released in December 2023. He decided music was his passion though, and he wanted to fully focus on that.

Interview (from 10:04 to 11:30): Bojan discusses his acting career

Interview (2m 11s): Kaj pa Ester interview

Interview (2m 30s): Kaj pa Ester première

Article: Bojan on Kaj pa Ester

September 2022, Križanke:

The band got straight to work writing their second album, 'Demoni' ('Demons'), and decided to present it in September 2022 at Križanke, another hugely important venue in Slovenia. This whole concert wasn’t recorded, but we have an interesting advertisement they did for it, an interview and a clip of one song live from Križanke!

Video (5m 4s): Full Joker Out Hotline trailers

Interview (2m 16s): Joker Out with parachutes to Križanke?

Live (4m 7s): 'Novi val' ('New wave') live at Križanke

Interview (44m 35s): Demoni album presentation

Another new member!

After Križanke at the end of 2022, Martin Jurkovič, one of the founding members of the band, made the decision to leave to focus on his studies.

Video (2m 20s): Martin's departure

Thankfully, he was replaced by the wonderful Nace Jordan, who remains the bassist in the current lineup.

Article: Nace Jordan discusses joining the band

2023, Eurovision:

Joker Out were then internally selected to go to Eurovision 2023, and began recording their Eurovision song, 'Carpe Diem', in Hamburg in December 2022. To learn more, you can watch the Carpe Diem series, a documentary series which followed their entire journey.

The first episode, recording Carpe Diem, can be found with subtitles in multiple languages by JokerOutSubs!

Video (16m 41s): Carpe Diem Ep. 1 - Hamburg

The band performed their song for the first time live on Misija Liverpool, a televised debut, on the 4th February 2023.

Video (27m): Joker Out performing at Misija Liverpool

There are quite literally hundreds of interviews with Joker Out during the Eurovision era. Here's one from just before the final, that we have translated.

Interview: Joker Out before the final on the 13th May

And a few English interviews that became famous in the fanbase!

Interview (24m 29s): Eurovanja

Interview (8m 10s): Seize the Day situations

Interview (17m 18s): Tiktok Live

Interview (6m 30s): ‘Never have I ever’

Interview (14m 12s): Madrid Eurovision

Result

Joker Out came 21st at Eurovision, which they were satisfied with.

Interview (1m 36s): Bojan talks about their results

European tour and Sunny Side of London (22nd September)

Luckily, the best was still to come for Joker Out! The rest of 2023 was spent on an extremely successful European tour, and they also released their first English single, 'Sunny Side of London', in September.

We at JokerOutSubs were also thrilled to interview the band twice on their tour!

Original Interview (15m 25s): JokerOutSubs interview in Tampere

Original Interview (14m 37s): JokerOutSubs interview in Poznań

6th of October 2023, Stožice:

All of this, however, was building up to Stožice. This is the biggest closed venue in Slovenia and Joker Out managed to sell out their October show there - an extremely important milestone for Slovenian artists.

Interview (15m 4s): Stožice and their whirlwind post Eurovision career

Live: Full concert live-streamed part 1 and part 2

A lovely moment at Stožice was when former members Martin Jurkovič and Matic Kovačič joined the band onstage to perform 'Kot srce ki kri poganja'!

Interview (2m 4s): Martin and Matic discuss the experience

Interview (5m 9s): Joker Out post Stožice impressions

London era and Everybody’s Waiting:

Joker Out spent the beginning of 2024 in London, where they wrote new music, did live cooking shows on Instagram and met the incredibly talented photographer, Damon Baker, who did a beautiful series of photoshoots with them. They also released their next English single, 'Everybody’s Waiting', in February.

They sat down with us at JokerOutSubs to discuss all this on the 20th February!

Original Interview (59m 13s): JokerOutSubs interview in London

March and April 2024, ‘See you soon’ tour:

The boys then embarked on the ‘See you Soon’ tour, another very successful European tour. They played three new songs live during the tour, two of which we translated from the concert videos of our members!

Live: First performance of 'Bluza' ('Blouse')

Live: First performance of the hugely popular 'Šta bih ja' ('What would I')

We at JokerOutSubs also interviewed the band a fourth time in Padova!

Original Interview (22m 7s): JokerOutSubs interview in Padova

Now you know a little bit about Joker Out’s history, let’s look a little bit at the members of the band as individuals!

Who are the members?

Bojan Cvjetićanin - singer

Charming, charismatic and an all round green flag, deep down we’re all Bojan girlies! See him here on Cosmopolitan's Blind date, Portrait with Coffee and a lovely interview he did for Delo!

Interview (8m 49s): Cosmopolitan's Blind date

Interview (18m 3s): Portrait with Coffee

Article: “If we believed that we were “kings”, that wouldn’t be us”

Jan Peteh - guitarist

The mysterious mathematician of the band, Jan and his cat Igor have stolen the hearts of the fanbase. Here he is on Undercover Mathematician and on Metropolitan podcast with ex bassist Martin!

Interview (3m 26s): Undercover mathematician

Interview (43m 57s): Jan and Martin on Metropolitan podcast

Kris Guštin - guitarist

Known for his organisational expertise, 'slay pose' and 'cake baking skills,' Kris stays fabulous on and off stage!

Video (1m 5s): NGVOT backstory (Kris’ breakup) at Cvetličarna

Article: Interview with the entire Guštin family

Jure Maček - drummer

Described consistently by his band mates as ‘čaga’ (party), Jure brings a chaotic energy to Joker Out that we love to see!

Video (41s): Jure’s cheating (in school!) story

Interview (18m 3s): Sunday Chat on Radio 94

Nace Jordan - bassist

The oldest member of Joker Out, Nace is a genuine sweetheart who fit like a glove into Joker Out despite joining much later!

Article: "Enriched by a special [Eurovision] experience"

Interview (18m 24s): Interview with JokerOutSubs in Umag

Get to know the whole band!

They mostly do interviews together, so here are some of our favourites!

Interview (16m 52s): Vičstock Unplugged

Video (7m 3s): Joker Out pre-Križanke Instagram Q&A compilation

Interview (54m 42s): Multisciplinary panel at Bežigrad High School

Article: Joker Out for DELO

Article: Joker Out for Mladina magazine

Interview (6m 42s): Joker Out for RTV SLO

Interview (1h 1m): Joker Out for N1 podkast

We hope you’ve enjoyed learning a bit more about our favourite band!

If you’d like even MORE translated interviews, articles and Instagram stories, you can find us on Tumblr, X, Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, YouTube and Spotify under the name JokerOutSubs!

P.S: If you wish to share this post with new fans, we also provided QR codes!

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dykeknightrises · 1 year ago

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FALLING

A/N: Sooo, I never actually wrote anything like this, but this one pretty much wrote itself randomly in my brain and I kinda liked it! So I appreciate any feedback I can get and I really hope you guys enjoy it :)

(Also english is not my first language. I did check it but something may not be quite right )

Next parts: Part 2 - PROMISES Part 3 - US

She smelled like the sun. Whether this is a real thing or not, Y/N didn’t care. Right now, buried under and completely surrounded by her, Y/N would vow on whatever entity really existed that Alexia smelled like the sun.

It wasn’t always the case. Before, Alexia smelled like comfort, maybe even a little bit like being under the covers, a mug of hot chocolate between her hands while the rain poured outside. Now everything changed. Now she smelled like summer, like the water wetting your feet right on the edge on the sand on a hot day spent on the beach.

The in-between of then and now, and even the before that, if Y/N was being honest, was a rollercoaster of joy, happiness, heartbreak, and sadness. Falling for Alexia was far too easy and almost a habit for her, she had been doing that for years now.

Y/N first fell in awe of Alexia when she watched her play her first u-17 Euros, back in 2010, when she was just fifteen. Even when the Young Lionesses didn’t go very far, Y/N managed to convince her parents that they absolutely had to stay for the whole tournament.

Alexia was still a wide-eyed teenager, shy to give interviews and speak up, but so confident and skilled in the pitch that Y/N could not helped but to feel in absolute awe. It wasn’t even a question that the midfielder would be a great player and it wasn’t even a question that Y/N would start to keep up with her career the best she could, she would even use the poor excuse that the shared their position when her friends bugged her too much about it.

Y/N first feel in admiration with Alexia when she played against her during the 2012 u-19 Euros. Despite being only fifteen, Y/N was called up when someone got injured and even made the line-up for the game against Spain.

Ninety brutal minutes later that resulted in England being eliminated, Alexia made sure to speak and praise every single one of her opponents. That was the first time they ever spoke. Y/N wasn’t even sure if Alexia remembered that, but the praise the older girl gave her and the sheer amount of respect she was given made her admire Alexia as a player on a whole new level.

The “See you in a Champions League game.” that the older girl said goodbye with echoed in her head for years, until the moment she signed with Arsenal as her first professional contract a couple of years later. Y/N really hoped to play against Alexia again.

Y/N first fell in respect with Alexia in Budapest, during the Champions League final in 2019. Despite the overwhelming loss from the start, she watched as Alexia gave her blood on the pitch. One of the most agonizing games Y/N had ever watched, being able to even taste the desperation while surrounded by thousands of culés ins the stands.

She watched the absolute heartbreak the team faced, the broken stares as they watched Lyon lift the Champions League cup again. She watched as the twenty-five years old fourth captain picked her teammates up, reassured them and listened to them. She watched the midfield swallow her own despair and angst to take care of her teammates, as a captain and leader would. Y/N could help but to respect the Catalonian as player, as person. Not everybody can do that.

Y/N first fell in fondness with Alexia when she was the first to make her feel at home in Barcelona. Leaving Arsenal and home behind was terrifying, even if Lucy and Keira were in Barcelona too. It’s a new city, a new culture, a new language, new teammates, and a new sense of self.

Arriving and settling in Barcelona was easy, but fitting in and becoming a part of the team was much harder. Spending so many countless evenings and night trying to learn the language that Y/N began to neglect herself a little bit seemed like a small price to pay to be in the team. It wasn’t until Alexia herself asked to speak to you, realizing that you were unconsciously closing yourself off until you were “ready” that you realized what you were doing. Upon seeing the realization in your eyes and knowing that her mission was complete, the older woman slipped a bar of your favourite chocolate over and left with a squeeze on your shoulder.

After that, it wasn’t long until you were a part of the very chaotic Barcelona family. By the time that the Winter Break arrived, the team had settled in a very nice post-practice routine. On Mondays, the guiris got together, helping each other fit with the country. Tuesdays and Wednesdays the whole team holed up at someone’s house, usually Irene’s, and just bonded, going from watching trashy movies to destroying each other on board games. When there were no games on the weekend, the Fridays were for going out on a very non-wild night, just to eat out and spend more time with each other.

Thursdays were sacred. You and Alexia got together, spending the whole time watching old matches, nitpicking plays and dissecting games from opponents or your favourite players. The night usually ending with you cooking, her cleaning and crashing at the bed after taking Nala for her night walk.

Y/N first fell in love with Alexia after the Winter Break, when Alexia was opening the gift, she brought from England. It was a grand thing, but the older woman’s eyes shone so brightly when the Christmas tree’s light sparked that Y/N was sure her heart skipped a beat.

Being in love with Alexia was easy. Between the team’s bonding and their own, all their weekdays were spent together, and Alexia usually dragged Y/N over for lunch with the rest of the Putellas family, where she fit right in. Her days were filled with Alexia’s presence and her nights were filled with dreams of her.

Y/N never entertained the thought of Alexia loving her back. Not she was an asshole or anything, but Alexia was different. Keeping her feelings to herself, not even telling her best friends came naturally, as she knew they would encourage her to try something, but that is just because they didn’t see Alexia like she did.

Friendships with Spaniards were very confusing at first. They were very touchy and very feely and, at first, it made Y/N a bit uneasy to be able the differ when they were hitting on each other and when they were just being friends. She finally settled in taking everything as a friendship moment if she wasn’t told otherwise and left at that.

On a Thursday, instead of watching a game like their usual, Alexia wanted to go dancing. They got ready at arrived at the Sala Apollo when it was already packed, heading to the bar, and having a couple of drinks before the older woman dragged them both to the dance floor. The closeness and intimacy of dancing with each other came easily for them. Letting the heavy bass of reggaeton guide their moves and being pressed together was almost as natural as cuddling on the couch after a movie.

It wasn’t until Alexia’s hands began to wonder that Y/N though better about the whole night. When the older woman’s lips found a spot on her neck and her hands found their place on her hips after squeezing her ass, Y/N was gone. Turning around and kissing Alexia, they were locked in a much wilder dance at that point. Not staying too long after that was natural, as it was sharing a bed of a whole different manner.

Y/N first fell in heartbreak with Alexia when she called their night a mistake. Waking up the next day, surrounded of filled with the midfielder, Y/N smiled and lost herself on the skin of Alexia’s back being hit by sun. Having coffee turned sour on her mouth after Alexia’s words and feeling has heart break on her chest was hard enough, but she could let the older woman know the damage her words had done, she loved her too much for that.

Leaving Alexia’s house that day was one of the easiest and hardest things Y/N had ever done. It was easy because she desperately needed to leave, she needed to let the tears stream down her cheeks away from the other woman’s praying gaze. It was hard because it closed the door on any possibility of the words being a mistake themselves. After promising Alexia, and lying through her teeth, that everything was okay, Y/N left.

People say grieve has five stages. Y/N was no expert, but she was pretty sure that whoever was supposed to go through them was the person grieving, so she didn’t quite understand Alexia’s sudden avoidance. The captain found new teammates to do all the training exercises together, spoke to her only when necessary and cancelled all Their Thursdays for the past few weeks.

A part of her told herself that maybe Alexia felt guilty, maybe she wanted to take the word Mistake back. That part was very strong, it was pulsating, it gave her hope. That part told her to not give up and just give her part.

Y/N arrived just in time on the locker room to overhear Alexia answering a question about a date. Her latest one. On a Thursday. She couldn’t pay a lot of attention to the midfielder answer without had eyes tearing up, so she tried to block the conversation as much as she could, and it was going pretty damn well until she lied to her teeth once again when someone asked if she didn’t mind that the dates where always on a Thursday.

The called up to represent the Lionesses came as a blessing, giving her a break from the club. It was much easier to be her usual self, joke around with her teammates and going on a full-blown prank war against Georgia when she could pretend Alexia didn’t exist. It was also much easing swallowing down her hopes and downloading Tinder when she was sure Alexia would not pop-up on her screen.

Swiping left on all the women that the app showed her was unconscious. Y/N didn’t even realize she was doing that until Leah caught her with the app opened and started to swipe with her. When the captain asked for the billionth time what was wrong with the last woman, the only answer she had to give was that none of them were her. That prompted her to tell her best friend everything. After convincing Leah to not do something stupid, the captain just told you not to worry and that she would find you the perfect date.

With the time with the national team up, Y/N flew back to Barcelona, smiling as the she sees the city lighting up against the night sky. She barely has time to settle back before Leah texts her that she found her a great date and saying that they will both fly out for the Champions League match in a couple of weeks.

Between trying to find out more information on Leah’s mysterious friend and the sting that came whenever Alexia promptly ignored her, Y/N days passed slowly. It’s easy to distract herself on the days that are occupied by the team, but Thursdays were the worst. The hurt that came the being subbed out of Alexia’s life was just more prominent on these days and Y/N didn’t quite know what to do about it.

The Champions League finally came and with it, Leah and her friend being in town. The date was going to happen the day before the match and Y/N wasn’t sure whether the anxious feeling she had were for the match or for the date.

Getting ready was almost automatic. A nice short black dress paired up with a light makeup as they would go to dinner at a nice restaurant that Y/N absolutely loved. Waiting for the time to go out, she turned the TV on started watching and old match, absently minded remembering that it was a Thursday. Not that any of that mattered anymore.

The doorbell rang just as Ronaldinho scored a goal, making her tear her eyes away from the game. Y/N walk to the door in confusion, not expecting anyone today. The team was doing their own Thursday thing and Leah was out with Lucy and Keira, leaving literally no one to be at her doorstep at almost eight.

Hazel eyes greeted her upon opening the door. Alexia stood in front of her, in her comfiest hoodie and sweatpants, the beanie tucked in her head, cheeks rosy from the wind. Her gaze, holding hope and a thousand secrets, wandered through you figure, before settling back in your own eyes.

“I was hoping we could have our usual Thursday? I have a lot that I need to say to you.”

#woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

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monstercangirlofficial · 9 months ago

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Recommending some of my favorite rap songs. As a latin american trans woman, I didn't grow up with rap, but I learned to listen to and appreciate it. These are some great songs I think everyone should hear, and hopefully add to their playlists. These are Spotify links, but you can find these songs elsewhere too. My favorites are in blue:

Pop Rap: She's a Bitch by Missy Elliot (1999); Comfortable (ft. Babyface) by Lil Wayne (2003); Savage (ft. Beyoncé) by Megan Thee Stallion (2020); Too Many Nights (ft. Don Toliver & Future) by Metro Boomin (2022); Never Lose Me (ft. SZA & Cardi B) by Flo Mili (2024)

Classic Rap: My Mic Sounds Nice by Salt-N-Pepa (1986); South Bronx by Boogie Down Productions (1987); Welcome To The Terrordome by Public Enemy (1990); Born and Raised In Compton by DJ Quik (1991); When In Love by MC Lyte (1991)

Gangsta Rap: Gimme the Loot by The Notorious B.I.G. (1994); Cloverland (ft. Botany Boyz) by DJ Screw (1996); The Art of Peer Pressure by Kendrick Lamar (2012); Norf Norf by Vince Staples (2015); Tear Gas (ft. Rick Ross & Lil Wayne) by Conway the Machine (2022)

G-Funk: Nuthin' But A "G" Thang (ft. Snoop Dogg) by Dr. Dre (1992); Funkdafied by Da Brat (1994); It's Supposed to Bubble by UGK (1994); Dusted 'N' Disgusted (ft. 2Pac, Mac Mall & Spice 1) by E-40 (1995); Can't C Me by 2Pac (1996)

Conscious Rap: Proletariat Blues by Blue Scholars (2006); 4 Your Eyez Only by J. Cole (2016); Blood of the Fang by clipping. (2019); Iman (ft. SiR & JID) by Rapsody (2019); I Love You, I Hate You by Little Simz (2021)

Abstract Rap: Accordion by Madvillain (MF DOOM & Madlib) (2000); Mural by Lupe Fiasco (2015); The Punishment of Sisyphus by Hermit and the Recluse (Ka & Animoss) (2018); Magician (Suture) by Milo (2017); Arugula by Junglepussy (2020)

Jazz Rap: Jazz (We've Got) by A Tribe Called Quest (1991); 93 'Til Infinity by Souls Of Mischief (1993); The World Is Yours by Nas (1994); Yesterday by Noname (2016); Live! from the Kitchen Table (ft. Ghais Guevara) by McKinley Dixon (2023)

Trap: Ridin' N' Da Chevy by Three Six Mafia (1999); Love Don't Live (U Abandoned Me) by Gangsta Boo (2001); Kay Kay by Chief Keef (2012); Digits by Young Thug (2016); Poppin by Rico Nasty (2017)

Experimental Rap: Spiritual Healing by dälek (2002); Persistence by Lil Ugly Mane (2015); Ain't It Funny by Danny Brown (2016); Thug Tears by JPEGMAFIA (2018); Superman That by Injury Reserve (2021)

I strongly recommend checking out other songs by these artists, the albums these songs are from, more songs from these genres and others I didn't include, and to explore everything hip hop has to offer (especially hip hop made by women). Feel free to add any artists and songs I (obviously) missed, that you think deserve more love and recognition, particularly independent music. Enjoy!

#mine #music

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rafaelsilvasource · 2 months ago

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Rafael L. Silva feels like he accomplished what he set out to do with Carlos Reyes on 9-1-1: Lone Star — but that does not mean he thinks his character's story is over.

In five seasons of the Fox procedural drama, Silva's Carlos Reyes has transformed from a wide-eyed, well-intentioned police officer navigating an undeniable attraction to firefighter-paramedic T.K. Strand (Ronen Rubinstein) to a second-generation Texas Ranger hellbent on finding his own father's cold-blooded killer. Along the way, Silva — who landed his breakout role on Lone Star in 2019, a couple years after earning his undergraduate degree in acting from Pace University — has undergone a similar metamorphosis.

"Lone Star taught me a lot. It gave me feet to walk on, gave me some strong legs to stand on my own," Silva tells TV Guide. "I grew up as a person so much from the show, and I'm extremely grateful for [co-creators] Tim [Minear] and Ryan [Murphy] for having given me the opportunity."

In the final season of Lone Star, Carlos' investigation into the Rangers uncovers that his late father Gabriel's direct superior, Chief Bridges (Alan Autry), killed Gabriel and then set up Carlos' new partner, Campbell (Parker Young), to take the fall. While the bitter truth was never going to bring his father back, Carlos is finally able to get some much-needed closure about Gabriel's untimely demise — and he is now wholeheartedly able to focus on starting a family with T.K. In a flash-forward at the end of the series finale, which saw the first responders navigating not only the fallout of an asteroid but also a potential nuclear disaster, Carlos and T.K. are revealed to have adopted the latter's half-brother Jonah after T.K. decides to quit his job and become a stay-at-home guardian.

Below, Silva opens up about his extensive preparation to play a Texas Ranger (which he stresses is still not the same thing as actually being a Ranger), how he wanted to play the epic conclusion of Carlos' year-long search to finding his father's killer, and what he has made of the chatter about a potential Lone Star spin-off. He also speaks for the first time about his experience of shooting The Waterfront, a highly anticipated new Netflix series from Dawson's Creek and The Vampire Diaries creator Kevin Williamson.

The last time we spoke, you were telling me about the extensive preparation that you insisted on doing to portray a Texas Ranger in the final season of Lone Star — similarly to how you prepared to portray a police officer at the start of this show. How did your time with the Rangers ultimately inform your portrayal of Carlos in this new professional role?

Rafael Silva: When I was first notified that I was becoming a Texas Ranger, I simply just had no idea what that meant. I didn't know what a Texas Ranger was to begin with. How does one become a Texas Ranger? So I reached out to a couple of friends who had connections in Texas and I ended up being able to go to Texas and shadow some Texas Rangers, and I did that for some time. You simply cannot replace personal experience with any sort of study. One of the Texas Rangers that I shadowed told me that a man of experience will never succumb to a man of education, and I think that that's just one of the clearest ways to explain [the process]. You only learn by doing. You can read about it, you can watch tutorials, you can do so much study, but you will never know what something actually is unless you go through it.

It's an extremely exclusive and just definingly elitist department — and I mean elitist in the sense of, only the best of the best and only those who are willing to put in the work to become a Texas Ranger do become a Texas Ranger. They don't necessarily have an entourage of people that accompany them to do their job, to solve whatever situation they have at hand. They are expected to be their sole entourage. Which is why there is that famous saying: "One riot, one Ranger," because all it takes to deal with one riot is one Ranger. I was surrounded by extremely competent, smart, dedicated Rangers, and I have to thank them for allowing me to come into their world and showing me everything. That was a level of trust that I took to heart, and that's what I was adamant about coming into [this season of] Lone Star.

I had extensive conversations with Rashad [Raisani], our showrunner, and I told him, "I am not going to do this incorrectly. I am not going to just brush it for the sake of time, for the sake of network television. I'm not going to compromise." Rashad heard that — and this is why I respect him and Tim [Minear] so much, because they want the best to be on television — and they wanted to work with me. Rashad would call me, like, "Hey, can you touch base with the Ranger that you're friends with to see if this is correct?" And I would do so. So the willingness behind the creative team at Lone Star is also equally responsible for us to see Carlos portraying the Texas Ranger in the way that he did.

How else did that collaboration manifest over the course of the season? What were you insisting needed to be "correct" about this depiction of Rangers?

Silva: So when it came to building the physicality, the boots, the double rig [gun belt] — and we don't wear jeans, we wear wranglers — and the button down shirt, everything was [done] on purpose. There was not a single thing out of place, not purposefully. So that meticulousness is not only in the physicality, but also in the way the Ranger office was designed. The hierarchy, the presentability is extremely important. Every time I was on screen, I wanted to make sure that I was meticulous, because every time a Ranger is out on the field, they're not just representing himself or herself. They're representing all Texas Rangers. So what does that mean? It's above you. It's not about you. You have to take on this responsibility not only for yourself, but for everybody else. And that's an awareness you have to have.

I think witnessing that awareness, witnessing that energy in person was irreplaceable. So the purpose of [studying the process of] Carlos becoming a Texas Ranger is not only Rafael trying to do his job, but it's also Carlos not having to prove himself. Carlos is so young to be a Texas Ranger! He's a child. He's a baby. And that's mentioned, right? I was like, "We have to talk about how young he is, and we also have to talk about that this is not nepotism, because that doesn't happen in the Texas Rangers. That doesn't exist. Every Texas Ranger is absolutely qualified to do their job on their own and do it well. That needs to be honored in the script and the stories that we're telling." I just respect them so much. And selfishly as Rafael, I wanted that to be mentioned. I wanted that to be understood.

Parker Young, who played Ranger Campbell, recently said that he was a little sad when he read Episode 8 because he thought Campbell was Gabriel's killer, but then he was happy to discover that wasn't actually the case in Episode 9. When did you learn the truth about who killed Gabriel? Did you play any of the episodes under the impression that Campbell was the suspected assailant?

Silva: No, I absolutely did not want to know a fucking thing. [Laughs.] I didn't even know until I think someone told me, and we were shooting [Episode] 508. I didn't want to have the awareness. I didn't want to play something that Carlos was not aware of. That doesn't behoove me. That helps nobody. I think Tim wanted to tell me before we even started shooting Season 5, and I was like, "Shut your mouth. Don't do that! [Laughs.] Don't tell me a thing. Why would you tell me?" And I think there's such a freedom that comes in playing and being when you don't know everything. I completely disagree when people tell me that I need to know everything. I don't know everything that's going to happen in my life, so I just act according to the present moment. And why wouldn't my character do the same thing? So if someone wanted to tell me, I ran away from them. If someone tried to call me about it, I'd hang up. But eventually, I found out and then I just had to pretend I didn't know. [Laughs.]

There are a couple moments that stand out to me in Episodes 8 and 9, and they both have to do with the way Carlos reacts to his own investigation into Gabriel's murder. First, there's a clear switch when Carlos suspects Campbell was responsible, and Carlos has a difficult time trying to lie, and then there's another switch when Carlos discovers — almost too late — that Chief Bridges was his father's killer. How did you think about playing the conclusion of this massive arc for Carlos as he gets closer and closer to the truth?

Silva: I didn't try to play a conclusion. I was just trying to do the scene the way that it's meant to be played. The beautiful thing about the art that we do is that you can live as deep [as you want] in the illusion that you have control over what you do in terms of how the story's going to be told. The story's going to be told in the editing room. My job is to be true to how I feel the scene is going to go in that moment. So I don't put the responsibility on my shoulders. And that's something that I had to learn sort of the hard way too — to learn how to let go and just play the scene the way it's asked to be played.

So in terms of performance, I give all sorts of shades to the scenes. But essentially, something I knew before we even shot these scenes was that Carlos will not get the satisfaction that he's looking for by catching the guy or killing the guy. It's not like, "Boom! There you go. Justice [served]." No, it's not, because his father will not come back out of seeking that justice. His father will not come back if the guy gets murdered, or goes to jail, or he goes to trial and then he gets sentenced and charged. What Carlos is dealing with or trying his best to avoid is actually sitting in the pain of having lost his father and knowing that he will not ever come back. So in a sense, and perhaps we don't see a lot of this in the series, it's him dealing with the emptiness of like, "Now what do I do after this whole thing is over?" And that's up to interpretation. I think that would've been a beautiful moment to explore. Unfortunately, we just didn't have the time.

But I think Carlos's story was told. I think his rage was told — rage is essentially pain. I think his pain was told, and we were able to feel with him. We did have that scene at the cemetery. I actually forget all the lines [laughs], but essentially what he's saying is, "I don't have you by my side seeking justice. I don't have my father. I don't have you." So, as an actor, I don't worry about the big picture. I worry about each moment. Obviously, I've thought about the storyline, which is why we got the story that we did. Tim and Rashad were willing to give me that [arc], which I'm really grateful for. But you work so much, only to let it go immediately. It is just crazy to me. But that was sort of the intention. The intention is every moment. I think if you take care of every moment, the rest is also taken care of.

After Episode 9, you effectively bid farewell to Carlos, because it was the conclusion of his most substantive arc of the final season. Obviously, he and T.K. still had to overcome an obstacle to adopt Jonah. What was it like for you to say goodbye to Carlos? What do you remember most from your final day on set?

Silva: I cried a lot on my last day. There's that big red [Verizon] satellite truck that gives signals to the entire city [in the series finale]. That was my last day shooting Lone Star, and I didn't know how it was going to be. I am very fortunate that I have wonderful castmates that came and brought me flowers on my last day. I wasn't expecting it! I was not expecting a single person. I wasn't expecting anything. I was just like, "Oh, I'm just going to go home. And now it's done." But no, [Natacha Karam], Brian [Michael Smith], and Brianna [Baker] came out and they brought me flowers, and I just sobbed for about 20 minutes.

I don't know why that happens. It may be silly, but it's five years of dedicating your life to the people that you work with. I cannot emphasize enough the extremely talented and hardworking crew that we had on Lone Star. Our crew did so much for that show to work. I'm extremely grateful for them because [the actors] just had to show up, literally. These are men and women that give their lives just to create this industry, and I think they go unsung very often, and that is absolutely unacceptable. We have to mention our hard-working crew more often because they are as legitimate as the actors on screen. I grew up as a person so much from the show, and I'm extremely grateful for Tim and Ryan for having given me the opportunity. So I think, in the moment, we don't really register that [loss in our brains], but the body knows and it pours it all out and starts crying. I think maybe that's why it happens, but I think I was given a mission — and I think the mission was accomplished.

Did you get to take home anything from the set?

Silva: Hell yeah. I got my Steston [hat], my cowboy boots, and a jacket.

The legacy of a show generally becomes clearer over time, but many viewers have gravitated toward Carlos and the messiness of his relationship with T.K. over the course of these five seasons. When you look back on this chapter of your career five-to-10 years down the road, what do you hope the legacy of this character will be?

Silva: You can't really control how people identify [with] Carlos — at least that's what I understood. I just hope people see him as an ever-evolving human being. Like we all are, he's just trying his best to be his best. And I don't think his story is over. I really don't. There were ideas floating around about spinning off this world into something else, and I think that was a legitimate and smart idea. I just don't think the time is right. He will live forever in a sense, but I think his story is not over.

I definitely wouldn't shy away from continuing to tell his story — him being the leader of his [own] story — but it has to be complementary to the [9-1-1] world. It is not about Rafael being this [character again]. It's about Carlos existing. Why does he exist here, and what can we do to showcase this Latino queer man in a position of power? How does he live in the world? How does he influence people? How do people influence him, and what does he represent? What can he represent? Because people of all faces, all places, all sizes, all colors identified with him. They would tell me that [personally]. And I think that's such a privilege to witness — [for] people to gravitate toward him and want to root for him. And I'm not patting myself on the back. It's not about me and will never be about me, but that's someone people would root for, and I would be rooting for the people rooting for him. When characters like that come out, I think we shouldn't discard them so easily.

So, just to be clear, are you saying the door is open for you to reprise this character at some point down the road? If the executive producers decide they want to revisit just Carlos's story one day, would you consider coming back?

Silva: Yes. But it has to be done right.

Since wrapping Lone Star last summer, you booked and already filmed the first season of Kevin Williamson's new Netflix family drama The Waterfront, in which you play Shawn, a newly employed bartender for the central Buckley family who has a secret that could upend the family forever. The show is set to premiere later this year. What can you say about your experience of making that new show and playing a different character for a change?

Silva: I'm going to tell you right off the bat: I can't really say anything, because I've also not had any conversations about talking about the other show. [Laughs.] But I'll tell you: Living in North Carolina, working with [executive producers] Kevin Williamson, Michael Narducci, Ben Fast was an extremely privileged experience. It was wonderful. I worked with extremely talented people, people from the theater.

Our number one, Holt McCallany, is such a great leader, always prepared, knows his lines and everybody else's lines. [Laughs.] And it was a wonderful example of what can be done, what should be done. But also, I observed myself in that environment. I was like, Wow, Lone Star taught me a lot. It gave me feet to walk on, gave me some strong legs to stand on my own. And shooting the show was fun. It was very different from Lone Star because Lone Star had so much going on, especially in rescue cases. You have two fire trucks, two ambulances, cop cars — it's great, and it deserves its spotlight. And then [The Waterfront] was much less about the external, a lot more about the internal. The show is entertaining, it was fun, and it will be worth the watch.

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