#and it’s your responsibility to acknowledge and understand this

[4seb]

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. you notice sebastian waiting until the day he can taste your soul. — drabble

i.・✦. *. ⋆

╰﹕ seb's interest

﹕You woke up startled, rising from a deep slumber. Your tired eyes struggled to adjust to the bright, red ones gleaming back at you through the dim light of the room. "You stupid fiend," you sighed in relief, realizing it was only Sebastian, your ever-watchful demon servant. The flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows on the walls, adding to the surreal atmosphere.

Wiping the sleep from your eyes, you looked up at the imposing figure standing before you. His presence was both unsettling and familiar, a constant reminder of the pact you had made all those years ago. "You were staring at my soul again, weren't you?" you questioned with an arched brow, fully aware that the demon was patiently waiting to consume his beloved master's soul.

Sebastian's lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. "Merely ensuring your safety," he replied smoothly, his voice a velvety whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You couldn't help but feel a mix of exasperation and begrudging affection for the demon who was both your protector and eventual doom.

Sebastian's eyebrow raised at your disapproval, a slight smirk playing on the corners of his lips. He held the corner of the blanket gingerly between his long, slender fingers, ensuring not to accidentally rip the expensive material. "I was merely appreciating the view," he replied, his voice filled with an exaggerated innocence that he only used to rile you up further.

His eyes, a deep and unsettling red, held a mischievous glint as he studied your reaction. Still groggy from your abrupt awakening, felt a mix of irritation and amusement. You knew Sebastian enjoyed these little games, finding delight in your every flustered response.

"And it's not 'staring' if it's a part of my daily duties," he added, unable to resist the opportunity to tease further. His voice was a silky purr, each word carefully chosen to provoke. The room, with its heavy drapes and antique furnishings, felt like a stage for their nightly performances.

You shook your head, a wry smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. "You're not very slick, hound," you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You pulled the blanket tighter around you, a shield against both the cold and the unsettling intimacy of Sebastian's gaze.

Sebastian stepped closer, his movements graceful and deliberate. "Indeed," he said, his tone mockingly formal. "After all, I am bound to serve you in every way possible. Watching over you is but a small part of my eternal devotion." His smirk widened, and he leaned in slightly, the space between you charged with an unspoken tension.

You felt your pulse quicken, a familiar heat rising in your cheeks. "Eternal devotion, huh? Just don't forget who holds the power here, Sebastian." You warned, your voice firm but laced with an underlying vulnerability. You knew the demon's loyalty was complex, tied not just to the pact you made but to an enigmatic bond you couldn't fully understand.

Sebastian's expression softened, just for a moment, a flicker of something deeper crossing his features before his usual mask of playful arrogance returned. "Of course," he said smoothly, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgment. "I am ever at your service."

The room fell silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Outside, the wind howled softly, a haunting melody that seemed to echo their unspoken thoughts. You lay back down, your mind swirling with a thousand questions you dared not voice.

"I'm sorry you're starved," you sighed after a few moments of uneasy silence. You shifted beneath the blankets, seeking a position that felt secure, though your thoughts were anything but settled. "I know you long to consume human souls—"

He watched you lean into the touch when he reached out to caress the side of your face, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment as you savored the brief respite his presence provided. His smirk widened for a brief moment as he observed you, the sight of your sudden vulnerability stirring something deep within him. "I've made a conscious decision…" he began, his voice low and deliberate, each word carefully chosen.

"…to wait for something in particular to sate my hunger," he continued, his gaze never leaving your. There was a depth to his crimson eyes, a complexity that hinted at emotions he rarely allowed to surface. His thumb traced small circles on your skin, his touch a mix of possessiveness and tenderness.

He leaned in closer, the warmth of his breath grazing your skin that sends a shiver down your spine. "I am waiting for the moment when your soul is truly ready, when it reaches its fullest potential. Only then will I be satisfied," he said, his voice a velvet murmur.

The demon pulled away slowly, his touch lingering on your skin before he straightened up. He flashed you an innocent smile, a stark contrast to the gravity of your conversation, and bowed gracefully. "Until that time," Sebastian continued, "I will protect you, nurture you, and ensure that you reach that point." His words were a promise, a vow etched with a complexity of emotions that left you breathless.

As you settled back into the pillows, your heart still heavy, somehow finding a fragile peace in the knowledge that you were not alone.

"Goodnight," he said softly, his eyes twinkling with a mix of affection and amusement. "Sleep well." With that, he turned and dismissed himself, his movements fluid and silent. Sebastian returned to his usual corner in the shadows of your room. He resumed his watchful stance, his eyes never leaving your form as you drifted back into an uneasy sleep.

[stuffyflowers]

Oh no pressure or rush or anything, but I would LOVE to hear your thoughts on Starlo's family and his relationship with them because truly no one talks about them despite Starlo being the fandom's darling, even though I find the way his family feels about him and the Wild East fascinating 👀

writing this at 3 in the morning sorry if it SUCKKKS lol

YEA YEAHHHHHH I love how each of them have their own unique perspective on star n the wild east.. though I do think there’s a pretty depressing through line that.. they kinda look down on what he does in one way or another

ok so. orions the most blatant abt it. he’s condescending as fuck towards clover after assuming they’re from the wild east. and it’s more him projecting his jealousy n resentment of stars life than anything else, seeing himself as the one burdened with “real” responsibilities

crestina is a bit more subtle, seeing the whole thing as something he needs to overcome so he can live a “proper” life (probably expecting him to follow in her and her husbands footsteps)

Solomon is the only one who really acknowledges the wild east in a positive light, but even then it’s bc he’s able to justify it as starlo using it to save their farm (even tho afaik there’s really no hard evidence that was his intention)

i see a lot of people joking about how weird it is that star never talks to his family when they live like. 3 ingame rooms across from his town but honestly? I can totally understand why. his family does love him (just look at how devastated they are when he “goes missing” in neutral) but they don’t seem to really consider that this life he’s built for himself is how he finds fulfilment and feels happy about who he is. like. every time kid star is talked about before he found those westerns he’s anxious at best and miserable at worst, they should all know star wasn’t happy living this life

I do like that we see them all setting up for the markets w/ the wild east residents in the pacifist credits: the implication that they’ve come to terms with who starlo is, no longer looking down on his accomplishments, and r finding a middle ground w him. joyous. more people should talk about these guys I love them

[alottiegoingon]

talking to the trees

lottie matthews x gn!reader

summary: the one where lottie's visions are getting worse.

warnings: wilderness based, implied mental illness, established relationship but doesn't really matter, angsty ending?, not proofread

lottie’s visions were worsening, and you were unsure how to help her. not only were they more frequent, but she also started acting unaware of everything around her.

sometimes she'd go silent, not uttering a single word for days and even weeks. you had to bring her food daily or else she'd stare at the trees and forget about taking care of herself.

being extremely careful, you place your hand on her shoulder, rubbing digitals on her skin through her clothes in a caress. "lottie, you need to eat. look, mari made us soup," you murmured, holding a steaming bowl.

the only way to make lottie to eat lately was to tell her that mari was the one who made the food. mari was responsible for dinner every night and lottie wouldn't eat anybody else's food. it was getting quite hard to convince her every day.

especially considering the fact that mari had died a while ago and lottie, lost in her own little world, were too absent to notice. well, she knew—she just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

"soup?" lottie's faint voice echoed yours, finally realizing that you were there. rarely did anything distract her from the strange symbols in the trees.

you watched as her eyes, dull and unfocused, flickered slightly at the mention of mari. it was a small victory, one you held on to desperately. lottie took the bowl with trembling hands, sipping the soup with a faraway look. you sat beside her, the cold ground pressing through your thin clothes, trying to offer her warmth with your presence.

it was freezing outside but, somehow, it was the only place she felt safe and you didn't want to make anything worse than already was.

"hey, lot, do you remember the night we all sat around the campfire on the first day? when laura lee said that we crashed because she called her piano teacher a cunt?" you asked softly, hoping to draw her out, even if just for a moment.

it was a funny memory overall. everyone was terrified but yet, that one time brought a momentarily relief to everyone.

lottie paused, her eyes briefly flickering with recognition before the fog settled back in. she nodded faintly, lips threatening to curl up, but her gaze remained distant. it was as if she was here, yet not here at all. you sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you.

𖠋

days turned into weeks, and lottie's situation only worsened. the forest around you seemed to close in, the shadows growing longer and darker and winter was only getting started. you knew you had to do something, but every day felt like a losing battle.

one particularly cold night, you wrapped lottie in your arms, trying to keep her warm. everyone else was sleeping around the weak fire, but she was shivering even under all the clothes. sitting by her side, you were determined to make her sleep at least a few hours.

"aren't you sleepy?" you whispered, holding her tighter. if it wasn't for the fire, your only source of light, you'd barely be able to see her.

completely focused on the light and intrigued by the crackling noises, lottie finally said something, her voice a broken whisper, "do you think they're watching us?"

"who?" appreciating the fact that you were finally hearing her voice after days, you didn't mind her ignoring your question. definitely wasn't sleepy but very much tired.

"they don't want us to leave," she murmured, her eyes reflecting the flickering flames. "i can feel them… always watching, waiting."

you swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice tender. "lottie, no one's watching us. it's just you, me and the girls. we're safe here. i promise."

but she shook her head, a haunted look in her eyes. "no, you don't understand. they're always watching. they won't let me go."

you didn't know who she was referring to, but nodded either way, hoping to calm her fears. how could you ever push her away or call her crazy in this cirscunstance?

"we'll be okay, lottie. i won't let anything happen to you." she fell silent again, staring into the fire, back to get lost in her thoughts.

"hey, don't worry," you give her shoulder a gentle bump to hopefully catch her attention, "if they ever try to get you, i'll throw a ball in their face like nat did to shauna that one time."

lottie let out a small, almost imperceptible chuckle. it was a sound you had missed, a tiny beacon of hope. "that was funny," she whispered, her voice still distant but a bit lighter.

𖠋

it took lottie several extra hours to fall asleep, while you managed only two or three hours at best, always alert and prepared to comfort her if necessary. you knew the other girls were there, but she didn’t trust them enough. neither did you, honestly. they were always gentle with her, of course, but you preferred to take care of her yourself.

still groggy, you jumped up from the makeshift bed on the ground, finding lottie in the lake. everything below her knees was submerged in the icy water, and the sight made you panic. rushing toward her, you stopped at the edge before the water could touch your skin.

“lottie, it’s too cold to swim now,” you exclaimed, your words punctuated by the splashing of your feet in the shallow water. “can you come back, please?”

for a moment, she didn't respond, her gaze fixed on the tranquil surface of the lake. then, slowly, she turned to face you, her expression distant yet strangely calm.

"it's okay," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "the water feels nice."

your heart clenched at her words but you knew you had to be there for her when she needed you most. taking a deep breath, you waded into the water towards her, your hand outstretched in a silent invitation. "come on, let's go back inside," you said gently, your voice was a soothing presence in the stillness of the very silent morning. "we can change clothes and have breakfast together."

“inside?” she stopped following your steps, the frigid water stinging your skin. looking back, you saw her confusion.

"it's warmer in there. you are freezing here, baby, and your clothes are all wet," you explain, holding her hand.

"fire," she frowns, "remember?"

right. the cabin had been burned to the ground months ago. how did you forget that?

"it's alright. we can find some other place."

"but the girls?" she asked immediately, searching around. you noticed her muscles tensing.

"they're in there already," you promised, being cautious when placing a kiss on lottie's cheek. "come on."

"is mari cooking breakfast there?" still wary, lottie rooted herself to the ground, grasping your hand before you could continue walking.

"she is, sweetheart."

“mom and dad too?” for the first time in weeks, lottie was mentioning her parents again. god, you hated them. what kind of people would abandon their own daughter in a different country like that? yes, they paid for it but yet—

“i’ll give them another call.”

𖠋

a soft knock on the door broke stirred you from your thoughts. there stark, white walls of the psychiatric ward came back into focus. lottie still slept soundly, her head nestled on your shoulder. finally, a full night’s rest.

you look at the door as lottie's usual nurse stepped in, giving you a sympathetic smile. "how is she today?"

you glanced down at lottie, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “improving,” you replied softly. “she’s slept through the night.”

the middle-aged woman nodded, looking pleased. "that's good to hear. keep talking to her. it seems to help."

“i will,” you assured her. you never missed a day without visiting lottie, even booking the nearest hotel just to be close. spending days and nights with her was routine now, something her parents’ money afforded her. “any word from them?” you asked, shifting the conversation.

“not yet,” she exhales, glancing momentarily at lottie still asleep while clinging to your arm. “but i’m sure they’ll visit her soon,” she tries to cheer you up.

"and let's try to keep her out of the water fountain again," she adds with a gentle laugh, mentioning yesterday’s situation. "we don't want her to catch a cold now."

it could be freezing cold in switzerland’s winter.

[delicatebarness]

bring him home | chapter four

Summary: The beginning of the support groups, and a mission with your sister.

Warning: MCU Spoilers. Mentions of Grief. Violence. Car Crash. Guns.

Word Count: 1260

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A/N: It was quite fun to write a mission with Natasha.

Tags: @vampirethingz | @whiminiferous | @armystay89 | @bucky-just-needs-love | @esposadomd | @motylekrozi | @erica2024 | @wintrsoldrluvr | @mega-kittyglitter-1 | @mostlymarvelgirl | @ordelixx

Surrounded by community leaders, counselors, volunteers, and fellow Avengers, you sat at a large wooden table in a conference room filled with tension. The topic of discussion was that of establishing support groups for those still trying to grasp the aftermath of the Snap. 

“So, we all agree that there’s a real need for this,” said the head of the community center. Her voice held a lace of hope, though her eyes were weary. “But we need to decide on a structure, the goals, and how we reach out.” 

You nodded, a weight of responsibility once again settling on your shoulders. “I think the focus should be on creating a safe space, a space where people can share their stories,” you said, your gaze not once lifting from the piece of paper in front of you. “They need to know they’re not alone, there are others who understand.” 

Several others around the table gave verbal acknowledgments. A tall man, who had lost his wife and daughter, spoke up. “We need to provide resources for the ones struggling to find their footing. Assistance with job placement, mental health service, and even social activities… rebuild a sense of community.” 

For another hour, the discussion continued, and ideas flowed freely with contributions of thoughts and suggestions. There was a clear plan of action by the end, in two weeks the first meeting would be held. 

And you would be leading it. 

~

It was supposed to be a routine mission with Natasha, to extract Dr. Ivan Petrov from Iran. The mission was critical, he was a nuclear engineer who contained vital information, and Natasha trusted your skills, yet she insisted on having you by her side, wanting to keep you close. 

As the two of you crossed the Ukraine border, near the outskirts of Odesa, Natasha kept her eyes sharp, scanning the road and surroundings. In the passenger seat, you sat equally alert, with Dr. Petrov in the back. The tension in the car grew as the landscape was barren and quiet. 

Suddenly, a ping echoed through the air, a sharp and metallic ping, causing the car to swerve. The tires under you were shot out. 

“Hold on!” Natasha shouted, gripping the wheel. She used all her strength to control the car as it spun out of control. Skidding, the vehicle careened off the edge of the cliff.

As you plunged downward, time seemed to slow. Unbuckling your seatbelts, you and Natasha used your precise training as you gained speed. Natasha grabbed Dr. Petrov as you kicked open the doors, and you all leaped out before hitting the rocky ground below. 

After tumbling down the slope, Natasha quickly assessed your surroundings. You watched as the smoke rose from the wreckage, the car lying in a twisted heap below. With no sign of your attacker, you all knew you had little time. 

“Get up,” she commanded, steadying you to your feet. “We need to move.” 

Following her lead, you moved around the slope using the sparse trees and boulders to seek cover. Rustling came from behind you, causing your attention to snap as a figure emerged from the shadows. 

He wore a mask, but his arm was unmistakable– Soldat. 

“The Winter Soldier,” Dr. Petrov whispered, his voice tinged with dread. 

A chill ran down your spine as your mind filled with the memories of him. Standing before you, a ghost of the past, the man who made you what you are today. 

Natasha tightened her grip on Dr. Petrov, narrowing her eyes as she assessed the situation. Conflict etched on her face, should she protect, fight, or survive? She was a force to be reckoned with, however, similar to you, she became wary in the presence of this man. 

With her firearm steady in her hand, she positioned herself between you and the Winter Soldier, with a calculated grace and her gaze locking with his. As she prepared to to defend, you sensed her uncertainty, this wasn’t just another target, this was someone she knew… someone she had once trusted around you. 

He stood motionless, his expression hidden behind the mask, yet his eyes pierced at her. You could feel his gaze burning through her as if he could see you hidden behind. 

“Nat, he’s different,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as a rush of adrenaline coursing through you. “It’s Soldat.” 

The air thickened with tension, the impending danger was a feeling you couldn’t shake. He stood before you, silent and imposing. Natasha’s eyes flickered with recognition, her grip tightening ever so slightly on Dr. Petrov. 

But, before you could react, the Winter Soldier moved. He raised his weapon in a fluid motion, aim locked on Natasha. You watched in horror as time slowed. The sound of gunfire echoed, stillness in the air. 

Natasha staggered backward as the shot rang out. Disbelief flashed across her face as his bullet tore through her abdomen. She fought to stay on her feet, stumbling, her grip on Dr. Petrov faltering. 

“No!” you cried out, lunging forward, you reached to catch your sister as she fell. Her body collapsed against yours. 

Her blood began to stain your hands as her breaths filled with desperation. The doctor stood frozen in shock. 

“Soldat, please!” you cried, raw emotions straining your voice. “It’s me! Spiderling!” 

Your desperate plea for recognition hung in the air, yet it seemed no semblance of humanity broke through the facade of the Winter Soldier. His weapon and gaze stayed fixed on Natasha. Blocking her injured body with yours, you prepared for him to deliver another blow. 

It was then he spoke, “Run,” he commanded, “Run and don’t look back.” his tone was devoid of emotion, his gaze unwavering. 

You knew you had no choice, your sister’s life hung in the balance, once again you obeyed his orders. Gathering your strength, you helped Natasha steady herself, leaning her weight against you as you began to retreat.

~

Two weeks later you were stood in front of a packed room, each person carrying their weight of grief and loss. Looking out at their faces, the weight of responsibility carried heavy. 

You took a deep breath as you began the meeting, you tried to keep your voice steady as you addressed the room. “Thank you all for being here today,” you started, as you rifled through papers, “I know that each of us has experienced unimaginable loss in the last year and a half. But, today, we come together not just to mourn, but to support one another in our journey,” you paused, clearing the lump forming in your throat. “Our journey toward healing.” 

A palpable sense of emotion filled the room as you spoke, shared sorrow and pain heavy in the air. But beneath it all, a small glimmer of hope. 

Throughout the meeting, you listened as people shared their stories, trembling with emotion as they recalled memories of loved ones. You tried to offer words of comfort and encouragement. 

You felt a sense of pride wash over you as the meeting started to draw to a close. And, in the weeks and months that followed, the groups offered a lifeline to those struggling to cope. This was exactly where you were meant to be, standing with and for fellow survivors. 

For Bucky, all he wanted was peace, and you knew that seeing you support these people in finding that peace would have brought him a sense of contentment. He may not have been able to be here with you physically, but he was with you in your heart.

---

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[boysborntodie]

“I don’t talk about Palestine because I don’t like going into politics : /” fuck you. The existence of Muslims and MENA people has always been political to the West. Their lives and their deaths. Their happiness and anger and sorrow. Their love and hatred. Their sweat and blood and tears. Everything has always been reduced to politics when they are more than you could ever begin to comprehend. Palestine will be free. And so will Sudan and Pakistan and Lebanon and Yemen and Syria and every other country, place and people who suffer only for their pain to be called political by those responsible for and complicit in it

[sailing-ever-west]

wild to me that "they're just doing it for attention" is supposed to completely illegitimize a person's behavior. like yeah dude if they are doing insert crazy unhealthy thing for attention they probably have deep seated problems with it. probably had a traumatic lack of it during formative years. or maybe were never taught how else to ascribe themselves value. doesn't mean you have to like or put up with that person but it's not a silly non-issue. attention is a real need and when people are doing unhealthy things to acquire it that seems like a deeper concern not a cause for dismissal.

[wonder-worker]

A.J Pollard’s biography on Edward IV was so cringe lol (generic; minor but frustrating inaccuracies; intensely judgmental at times and oddly dismissive at others while never considering the broader context; entirely diminished and trivialized Elizabeth Woodville as both queen and wife of his main subject in the name of "defending" her; created a false dichotomy between Edward and Henry VII’s styles of ruling and lauded the latter at the former’s expense even though Henry literally followed Edward’s example for the very things Pollard was criticizing Edward for; had a downright nonsensical and thoroughly misleading conclusion about Edward’s legacy & Richard’s usurpation that was based entirely on hindsight, Pollard's own assumptions, and the complete downplaying Richard’s agency and actions to emphasize what Pollard wrongly and misleadingly claimed were Edward's so-called 'failings', etc, etc)

I wanted to buy his book on Henry V but after reading this shitshow and the synopsis of that book, im guessing it's going to be 10x worse, so...no thanks

[brookheimer]

……starting to think a lot of you do not know what the word empathetic means

[maryyyy8]

The one good thing to come out of me being in guro spaces a bit too young is that all my takes on fiction are incredibly real and based

[nonbinary-octopus]

oops I started thinking about a frustrating event from highschool and spiraled into anger again :/

[navree]

Have you watched Rome (HBO)? If yes what's your opinion on it?

I've watched some of it, but to be honest I didn't really like it. They got things like how society operated in that time, and I think Ciaran Hinds is an incredible actor and did his best with the material he had, and if you just want a good drama and don't know anything about the period and the actual history that went on, you'll probably like it. Plus, James Purefoy was genuinely perfect casting. It's why I wish that the show was better than it was.

Problem is, I do know the history. I know the history quite well, because the general fall of the Republic and rise of the Empire is an incredibly interesting time and Augustus is one of my favorite people to read about, from a historical perspective he's fascinating. And the show bungles a lot in that regard. I've never been a particular fan of "we're going to invent these fictitious characters and make them important to the historical narrative" type things, and the combining of characters caused some major problems for me personally (combining Atia Balba with Fulvia to create the show's version of Atia was very annoying to me personally, considering how at odds it is to the historical Atia Balba), and just in general a lot of the characters felt very shallow and like they were crafted more out of a pop culture understanding of who these people were rather than actually examining them historically. Like, ooh Cleopatra is a sexually voracious and seductive minx and Octavian is a monstrous little viper, how incredibly novel, never been done before. Not like the reality of Cleopatra as someone who wasn't very attractive but was so intelligent and charismatic that she seemed leagues better than any other woman, but still prideful and stubborn enough to let it be her downfall is more interesting than cokewhore but make it Hellenistic. Not like Octavian as an incredibly smart person and brilliant politician whose complicated family life created a situation that had him latch onto Caesar as a father figure (and Caesar himself having lost a child shortly before they started getting close allowing that latching to be entirely mutual) and who started his journey to power as a personal revenge quest and whose litany of personal tragedies at a young age created the circumstances that allowed him to make colder and colder decisions for the betterment of himself and his family and his country is more interesting than wimpy deviant who can't fight. IDK, they made Livia marginally more two-dimensional than most other pop culture portrayals of her (I, Claudius your sins are numerous and shan't be forgiven), but that's about it. From someone who's read a lot about all of these people and has consistently found that who they actually were is leagues more interesting and creatively inspiring than anything anyone could actually make up, the show being composed entirely of preconceived notions with some sprinkling of "this is what I remember from Shakespeare's Roman plays" just did not do it for me at all.

Also, Agrippa/Octavia is a fucking cop out and anyone who writes it is a genuine coward. Like, you cannot tell me that out of the two siblings, the relationship you find the most interesting is the one he had with Octavia, when Agrippa and Octavian were friends since they were twelve and were completely and reciprocally so incredibly devoted to each other that it almost defies description and beggars belief. Agrippa never once tried to grab power even though he absolutely could have and was perfectly happy being nothing more than Octavian's right hand man until the day he died. Octavian's first ever political act, the thing that kickstarted his entire career, was asking Caesar of his own volition to not kill Agrippa's brother (it's complicated) and Caesar saying yes entirely because it was Octavian who asked, not only showing how loyal Octavian was to his friends but also essentially binding the two of them together for life. It was a forty year relationship of the most insanely codependent friendship of all time, either get with the program and make it homoerotic or just admit you have no talent and wanna hetify it.

[binders-and-beanies]

If u tell a trans disabled person to call the cops or tell someone else to call the cops abt them u do not care abt that person’s safety

[unluckystreak]

Thinking about how in the USA (and other largely car-dependent places) it’s such a thing in the culture for teenagers to “have their first real taste of independence” when they get a license. I don’t know how to articulate this well but ... I feel like traveling, like literally just HAVING THE ABILITY to go somewhere, is so fundamental to humans in so many ways. Like developmentally, emotionally, physically, socially, it’s important to simply even just have the option. I just really fucking hate that without access to a car, you’re nearly entirely stationary unless someone else forces or permits you to exist somewhere else. It’s extremely ironic to me that cars are touted to youth as the great marker of independence and individualism. To me, there’s nothing more independent or individualist than not being FORCED TO RELY on someone or something else to simply move from one place to another. At a young age where are certainly old enough to be in public by yourself, you do not become independent by having your license and driving -- you are only shifting your dependencies.

[hella1975]

very hot of the kitchen staff yesterday to fuck up every single thing ever. like yesterday's shift was fucking HORRENDOUS there was zero communication between the supervisors and the chefs and the kitchen was just super understaffed and my boss had me MANAGING the food pass (like yes im very capable and good at my job and hot and sexy and have spent so so so many gruelling hours working the pass that i can do it in my sleep but i am still NEW) with the only other person on it to help me being some 17 year old boy who has NEVER had a job before and it was his first shift (like he was nice and i dont begrudge it him bc we all start somewhere and god knows my first job i was a terrible worker but still he had no initiative for anything to do with the catering industry and it was a Very Bad Day to have a first shift). so the thing with the food pass is that the waiting staff are in their own sections right and they'll take the food orders and deal with the customers, BUT if you're on pass then you're the one who gives the customer their food, so despite not being the one to take the order or being the one to make the order, any complaints go directly to you and it's just super shitty bc you're like my brother in christ i have no idea what you're talking about. like a mistake in the order either comes from the waitress writing it down/sending it out wrong OR the kitchen making it wrong, neither of which i had any control over yet the staff on pass are the ones who get the brunt of it. like i had a good 20 orders come back bc the kitchen kept sending them out cold or making them wrong and complaints either went to me OR the kid who would then - naturally, again no hate to him - bring them to me and either way it was very much My Problem and i have never been closer to smacking a customer in my LIFE

[bi-demon-ium]

i actually also have a lot of feelings on like. kids seeing adults as people? like. there's always that moment as a kid where it really like. hits you that your parents are like. human people. like, imperfect, flawed people, who can have negative emotions or not know the answer. and i think reynie has kinda already gotten there, and constance never had much of a choice, being psychic, although she doesn't seem to deal with it in the same way or like. hmm i'll get back to her actually but i want to talk about kate for a second. i have a feeling that a good way to get through to kate about the whole situation with milligan is to get her to see that like. a big chunk of the reason why he's behaving how he is has less to do with her and more to do with him--that he's someone who lost his memory for over a decade and as a result lost his daughter, and now desperately wants to keep her safe, be a good dad, make up for what she lost, etc, be the responsible one, take care of her, and like, yeah, obviously part of that is the fact she's a kid and he wants to parent her, but like. a lot of it also has to do with his own issues. you know what i mean. and then with the last reblog my god oh fuck like. cosntance having her dad "roommate" apologize for not being strong enough my god.

[rhymaes]

it's just that a declaration, to the other half of your soul, of "You say I killed you? Haunt me then! The murdered do haunt their murderers...Be with me always — take any form — drive me mad!" being matched by the response--from one of the only other people who knew your other half seemingly well--with "Heathcliff, if I were you, I'd go stretch myself over her grave and die like a faithful dog. The world is surely not worth living in now, is it? You had distinctly impressed on me the idea that Catherine was the whole joy of your life: I can't imagine how you think of surviving her loss" makes me want to drown myself in the pond of a church