#at this point i am honestly just expecting it

[loveyourownsmiilee]

Like honestly as a Buddie shipper, what the fuck are we supposed to focus on??? What does all of this mean if not Buddie canon???

We get closer than ever this season. There’s a lot of changes in the relationship and how we interact. We’re trying to give the audience what they want.

Well, there’s something brand new for both of us. I can only say that much.

Outside of Christopher, Buck would be the second closest thing that he can have as a relationship.

And then go to Buck and say, 'I trust you with my child, and I see how much you put in for my son; this goes beyond friendship, and I love you to the core. To have that sense of vulnerability is a sense of strength that has been shown.

And the way Eddie navigates that is just kind of a no, that's just who he is. And nothing ruffles my feathers. Even if you break my ankle or maim me, it's fine. That's who he is, and I love him either way. And there's no competition for Eddie.

I don't think that the Buddie fans are wrong.

There is a chemistry there that exists just naturally, so we don't have to try and lean into that or lean away from that. We just let it flow.

Oh, 100%. 100%. I watch certain edits and I think 'Am I Team Buddie?' because there are really talented editors out there. And you know how it is.

Obviously Eddie and Ryan who plays him is obviously an attractive man.

I think with this season 7, we got a lot in store for the audience. You give them what they’ve known and a lot of what they don’t.

There’s a scene in the first episode, where Eddie reveals that he's going — or he mentions a first date, and it in fact ends up being Christopher's first date. And Buck has this moment of "Oh. I thought things were going great with Marisol...' So little moments where I felt like, 'Is there scope to play with Buck?'

They've both become quite embedded in each other's lives. "I think they've kind of bonded and connected on so many levels, whether it be work, their personal lives and then add in that kind of fun dynamic where they clearly do just get on well. I think it's just a nice recipe for a good relationship, however you choose to see it.

There's some really beautiful stuff between him and Eddie and kind of them being open and sharing things with each other that they may have been reluctant to share with—I know how that's going to be taken. But it's true. [They're] there for each other in a very kind of open and nonjudgmental way.

They get to show up for each other in different ways. Moving forward there’s almost like potential for things to come up in a not so great light. But we get to see their friendship persevering, and them being there in ways they didn’t necessarily expect for each other. And I just, it’s a really lovely journey for them this season.

Eddie doesn't really have a sense of direction, so he reaches out for the closest person, and that closest person is Buck.

And Eddie was a mess. I think at that moment, the friendship had a turning point and now has allowed Buck and Eddie to really share as much or whatever they'd want, the scariest things in the world they could share with each other. And we're going to be seeing more of that this season.

As far as [Eddie's] sexuality, I think it's pretty clear that he's tried to fill in this motherly, this wife type role—that's all he knows…"And he's a man [that] first off, he's Catholic. Second off, he's from the military. So those are very straight-edge kind of lifestyles that don't offer too much of exploring. But through the 118, he's had this epiphany each year, like, 'Well, maybe I don't know as much as I thought I did. And maybe I should be exploring a little bit more and maybe I should understand myself a little bit more and even seek a therapist, which is something new for Eddie.

He is actually starting to figure out who he is outside of 'I am an Army man who has a silver badge! ... He's way more than that. He's starting to live in that [feeling] a little bit more, and I think that's freeing to him.

At this point we can’t be reading between the lines or coming to random conclusions when every thing said is so blatantly obvious.

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 20

chapter 35:

1. 😟 james’ first kill had a wife and two little girls. i- these chapters always start off by hitting hard

2. “James, who is—for some reason—glaring at Frank like he's kicked his cat. James doesn't even have a cat. His cat is dead. Has been for years, so Sirius isn't sure what that's all about.” 😭😭😭😭 girl wtf

3. “Pandora marches off after the mayor with the clear determination to organize that poor man's entire life, which maybe he needs, honestly.” queen 👑

4. girl, why is james so possessive of sirius around frank?

5. ALICE MENTION!!!

6. awww james is jealous. that’s actually kinda funny

7. poor frank is caught up in a lot of jealousy

8. i’m far too worried for effie and monty. like, unreasonably worries

9. i- bernice was a mother to an INFANT. i- all these people who are young parents fucking hurt. i know that’s the point, but it hurts

10. ew, we have to deal with the malfoys and blacks i don’t want to do this

11. “For example, Regulus did not understand when he was a child that Bellatrix is fucking insane. He understands now, of course” 😭😭

12. 😧 bellatrix just- got away with murder. and she did it just to make her younger sister’s life a little easier. he didn’t even do anything wrong. i- regulus is right in calling her fucking insane

13. “Narcissa is not, and never has been, fragile. Oh, she pretends to be, sure, but she's as dangerous as her sisters, especially because you don't expect it.”

14. 💕💕NARCISSA💕💕 asexual lesbian queen

15. “”I want to raise a child. He wants to train a Victor."”

god, that hurts. lucius needs to go rot in a ditch

16. i hate bellatrix, but she’s honestly a pleasure to read about

17. 😧😳 FUCKING WILD. every time reg tells someone not to touch james or he’ll [do something], nobody ever believes him, then he follows through with exactly what he threatened. also, maybe bella needed her hand to be stabbed with a fork

18. i love that sirius has no context, but he is IMMEDIATELY gonna throw fists with bella, no questions asked

19. REMUS LUPIN!! HE RETURNS!!!! MY LOVE!!

20. AWWW PANDORA IS A QUEEN!! THIS IS A SURPRISE FOR SIRIUS

21. SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP!! HIS WORDS ARE “HI SWEETHEART” I AM NOT FREAKING OKAY

[tennessoui]

Last line challenge (airport!kit edition)

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like). 

I was tagged by @palfriendpatine66 - thank you!! :D it made me return to my wip document and type a lot more!! So here is…a lot more than just a line because I wrote 2k just to get to this scene lol….It’s from couples counseling au:

Obi-Wan considers himself in the mirror.

“You’re going to cause a galactic incident,” Quinlan says, leaning against the fresher’s doorway. “What are you thinking, wearing your old armor to the Senate?”

A thousand barbed words flash through Obi-Wan’s mind as he fastens his arm brace tighter to Fe fabric of his robe. They did not mind me wearing it when I led their troops into battle.

Or: what do you expect me to choose from my wardrobe? Half my closet is armor I cannot wear and half is a Jedi master’s robes I do not feel comfortable in anymore.

Or: what else would I choose that would be more appropriate? I feel as though I am going into battle.

Instead, he smooths down the spotless front plate. “I seem to remember you telling me the same thing years ago, my friend. About a rather different sort of outfit altogether.”

It does what Obi-Wan had meant it to do. His friend is nothing if not easily re-directed when he decides to be. Quinlan barks out a laugh and pushes himself off the fresher’s closing point. “Honestly, I’d pay you good credits if you went before the Senate wearing the things you used to wear when we were sneaking into the Lower levels.”

“I’m not going before them,” Obi-Wan corrects, running a hand over the lines of his beard critically. “I will be becoming one of them. A Jedi senator.”

“Hence the armor,” Quinlan says.

Hence a great deal of things, Obi-wan thinks but does not say. “Quite,” he says.

Unfortunately tho I am also like a week late to this game and also I think this is more words than people on tumblr so pls consider yourself tagged and tag me in your response I would love to see other peoples last written lines!!! or you know. scenes!!

[takeyourcyanide]

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell

AO3

Fandom: Soul Eater

Character(s): Spirit Albarn, Franken Stein, mentions of Kami

Tag(s): Hurt/Comfort, Age Regression (SFW), Men Crying, Mental Instability, Stuffed Toys, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff & Angst

Word Count: 2 710

Summary: Stein sees a T-Rex stuffed animal, regresses before and after being allowed to purchase it, and shit also happens to hit the fan, because I don’t write for happy people LMAO

Note(s): I finally wrote more age regression like I said I would. I don’t like this a whole lot either, but I’m planning on writing some longer and better things, so hopefully that will happen. I am just posting this and Muse of Tragedy, because these are ideas I’ve had in my head for a long time that I simply never wrote. So, here!

The vivid, fluorescent lighting of the quaint drugstore left Stein internally grimacing, keeping his limbs close to his frame as to make himself seem smaller and further away from the blaring stimulus.

Going in one ear and out the other was the apparently endless rambling of Spirit, as he went on and on about Kami, and Valentine’s Day, and how he nearly forgot, and how he just has to buy her the cutest teddy bear ever. Franken merely hummed in response, scanning the aisles both curiously and indifferently, bored and more than prepared to exit the store.

As they, at long last, arrived at the line of shelves filled with stuffed-toys, particularly bears and rabbits holding non-anatomically correct hearts (Stein would much prefer to see anatomically correct heart candies) and lollipops, the meister spotted the best thing in the entire drugstore; a medium-sized Tyrannosaurus-Rex, greenish-brown in color, and without the glass eyes that left him suspecting whether or not it came equipped with a built-in camera.

Albarn grabbed on his chosen teddy, beginning to march away from the aisle and to the checkout area, as he glanced over at Stein conspicuously gazing longingly at a stuffed dinosaur, not moving, simply staring. The glint in his partner’s eyes was almost cute; childishly curious and desiring.

“Stein?” He called out. And before he could ask the boy whether or not he wanted him to buy the stuffed animal (he looked too intrigued by the toy to deny him of it), Franken turned towards him, not verbally requesting the stuffy, instead, pointing at it with an expectant and hopeful look to his countenance. He appeared as though he was preparing for disappointment, or to be yelled at. He honestly seemed to expect overly negative reactions rather often - too often - and something about that sent a pang of sorrow down Spirit’s tired spine. He’d never seen him look so childlike and tiny before.

Now he really couldn’t say no.

“You wanna get it?” Stein clumsily nodded his head once, a dramatic motion of his head as he pursed his lips slightly. “I didn’t think you were the type to like plushies. But sure, go ahead and grab it.”

“Dinosaur,” the meister said, holding the animal to his chest, moving to walk beside his weapon-partner, not ceasing his intense and elated staring content with it.

“Oh, yeah. You do like dinosaurs and all that science-y shit, so, I guess that makes sense,” the weapon shrugged his shoulders, grabbing it briefly from Stein, as he scanned the toy. The silver-haired boy seemed to subdue a pout, returning to his former blank state. “You want it back, right?” Spirit returned it into Franken’s hands, placing the bear he bought into a plastic bag, paying for the items.

“Thank you,” Stein mumbled, not exactly smiling, though the corners of his mouth were more upturned than usual.

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” he felt more like something of a parental figure to him everyday, or at the very least, when his partner would begin acting… like whatever this was. But the meister’s policy was ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell,’ so interrogating him about his quirks would more than certainly get him nowhere. “You don’t have to pay me back or anything, by the way. Knowing you, though, you’d definitely find some sneaky-ass way to never pay me even if I wanted you to. You’ve done it before, you bastard! So, I know for a fact you would!”

Stein giggled mischievously in a hushed voice, Spirit joyfully smiling and chuckling to himself as he listened to it. He hadn’t heard the male really laugh in a long while, he’d seemed rather morose and sort of lacking in any and all emotion as of late - even more so than typical, which he frankly didn’t think was even possible. And for what reason his partner was behaving more overtired and flat, the ginger did not know.

They exited the drugstore, Stein seeming more relieved in a sense as they were shrouded in the shadows of the night, the desert air much cooler than just a few hours ago.

<——————————————————>

Stein plopped swiftly down onto the sofa with his prized plushie, Spirit sitting beside him and placing the lovey-dovey teddy bear onto the coffee table, where the tissue paper and gift bag happened to be located.

Whilst writing thoughtful sweet-nothings on the sparkly and shiny card he had bought a little while back, he made repeated glances at his partner, of whom was merely sitting and staring into space, a more petulant, yet deadpan twinge to his countenance.

He looked awfully squeezable, however, with his stuffy tucked against his sternum, his knees holding the toy even closer. Perhaps this newfound affectionate feeling he didn’t think he’d ever feel towards Stein would dissipate once the meister said anything about ripping someone limb from limb.

“You okay over there?” He chortled, his brows pinching together in mild concern as he signed the glimmering card, placing it into the bag along with the heart and candy-holding bear.

Franken remained particularly unresponsive and immobile, it was almost as though he was entirely zoned-out of life itself, not present in the room with Spirit. Though there was something stirring within him, he could see it in his exhausted and narrow eyes, they were both decomposing and lively simultaneously in a way that only Stein could achieve.

“Hey. Did you hear me?” Albarn poked his arm, only to receive nothing back.

He inched closer to his partner, untucking and lifting Stein’s arm from the stuffed T-Rex as gently as he could, as to hopefully not startle him. Though, perhaps if he were to startle him, he’d scare him out of his current stupor.

As he raised his appendage, he moved it up and down almost playfully, stopping and leaving it to hang right in the middle. And his arm did not fall.

Spirit rose an eyebrow in the face of this strange behavior; Stein had gotten like this before - he’d refuse to speak, and would either move too much, not too much, or very robotically. But he had never done this before.

Albarn simply stared at the unmoving arm for a moment, confused and worried, not even noticing the salty tear falling from his meister’s right eye, or the way his chest made abrupt movements as noiseless sobs escaped him.

He gazed upwards, eyes widening at the sight before him, as he marginally began to panic.

“What’s wrong, Stein? Don’t cry,” he hadn’t realized before how much the sight of his counterpart weeping would both upset him and frighten him. “Was it something I did? I’ll never touch you without asking again, how about that? Please don’t cry.”

Spirit’s eyes flicked all over the room as he pondered how in the world he could possibly comfort his meister. He’d never seen him cry before, how was he supposed to know?

“Na’ yu,” Stein murmured under his breath, his tone sounding pained as though it was his first time attempting to speak.

“Not me? It wasn’t me, then? Can I touch you?” Spirit reached his arms out, retracting them, only to flail them outwards once more.

He didn’t reply again, instead focusing on trying to relearn how to move his body, desiring to position his arm back into its former place.

Spirit noticed this, grabbing his arm and moving it to tuck around his plushie just how it was before.

“T’an’ yu,” he whispered out slowly, mechanically.

“Of course,” the weapon reesponded with a polite smile, looking around the room one more time, before just pulling his partner over to him, essentially sitting him on his lap, shoving his head into the crook of his anxious neck.

This more than certainly alarmed Stein, his eyes bulging, as he acted on instinct - squirming and writhing out of his grasp.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to freak you out, I’m sorry,” he shushed his perturbation in the sweetest voice he could possibly muster. Stein sat up, perched on his thighs, as his bottom lip seemed to quiver lightly in response to his former statement. More tears bubbled up in his eyes, spilling over, as the scientist shoved himself right back to where the redhead had originally pushed him, choking on pitiful sobs.

“Shh…… I’m sorry. This is all so.. not you, I just don’t know what to do - I’m sorry,” he held his head, thinking to himself ‘Well, at least he moved for the first time in however many minutes he hadn’t.’ Spirit soothingly rubbed up and down his back, his nails dragging along empathetically. “And I know you never tell anyone anything.. You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong. I know this must be really scary already, isn’t it?”

Stein had evidently lost control of himself. It was clear as day to anyone that he had unwillingly began blubbering, as he repeatedly attempted to hush himself up, his efforts ultimately proving to be in vain.

He nodded his head in agreement with the weapon’s question, as he sniffled into Albarn’s shirt, his hands still maintaining their iron grip on the stuffed toy.

“Yeah, I know it is,” Franken was seriously the absolute last person he expected to be coddling. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I’m sorry. I’m always here, okay? You don’t have to tell me anything, but if you need to, you always can. Whatever was happening earlier didn’t look too comfortable or fun.”

Stein hummed in agreement once more, the noise reverberating within his overtired throat, as he huffed out another sob.

He brought one of his hands to his face, placing his thumb in his mouth, gently suckling on it, as his chest bumped up and down due to the suppressed wailing.

While it was a considerably strange thing for a teenager to do, Spirit couldn’t care less what Stein found tranquillizing, so long as it helped him.

“It’s okay to cry, Stein. I’m not judging you. I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise. You’re stubborn, so I know you won’t believe me, but I’m not gonna tell anyone, I swear,” he tenderly attempted to reassure the meister.

That only sent more tears running down his flushed face, as Stein glanced cautiously up at the ginger, whimpering into his finger.

Spirit grinned down at him, whispering, “You don’t have to believe a word I say, okay? I can see it in your eyes,” he adoringly flicked Stein’s forehead. “I don’t know what exactly is so hard for you, but I can see it’s hard for you. Stop arguing with yourself in there. Stop thinking about whatever it is for a minute. How about we play with your little dinosaur?”

He snuffled, lazily and begrudgingly removing his face from his weapon’s neck, making his stuffy more visible to the both of them.

As he did as such, Albarn could get a much better look at his blotchy, tear-stained face, a pout stretching his poor lips.

“Do you have a name for it yet?” Spirit prodded softly, restricting the urge to fondly crush the male he had seated on his femurs, as he stared shyly down at the dinosaur.

When he received no response, he assured, “You don’t have to speak, that’s okay. We can just play with it, or do whatever you want to do with it… Except dissecting it!” He earned another precious titter from Stein.

The meister held the T-Rex up to Spirit’s doting face, the ginger patting it jestingly on the head.

Stein chuckled, sniffling a bit once more, as he patted the scythe on his own head.

“Top hat,” the aspiring scientist vaguely spoke.

“What about a top hat?” He confusedly questioned.

The giggly meister pointed at the dinosaur’s head, staring inquisitively at his weapon, trying his best to temporarily forget about the bickering and the static and the inevitable.

“Oh, I see! We should get a top hat for your T-Rex, shouldn’t we?” Stein nodded his head, biting on his bottom lip in thought.

“‘N f’r you,” he elucidated, slurring his words in a baby-ish voice.

“Oh, really? Wouldn’t I just look dashing in one?” Spirit said in an overly and theatrically elegant manner, his visage contorting into a rather silly expression, leaving Stein to grin.

“No,” he was a menace, but at least he was honest.

The redhead feigned taking offense to his utter brutality, fake-crying with a hand on his chest. Franken heartily laughed, or rather, sadistically, and yet innocently, concurrently.

Abruptly, his giggles ceased, as a deep and troubled sigh escaped his lips, his countenance falling and returning to its earlier indiscernible oddity.

Spirit’s did just the same, his brows furrowing as he solicitously studied the meister’s body language and face.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He was hoping to Death that he would enjoy being referred to with touchy-feely nicknames in the state he was currently in, and that they’d relax him somewhat.

“Top hats and your dinosaur can’t really distract you, huh?” Stein sat still, blankly staring down at the stuffed toy. “That bad?” He nodded.

“Is there anything I can do?” His eyes watered once again as he processed the question being asked, moving his head from side to side, as he wanted nothing more than to forbid the tears from rolling.

“Not’ing,” he mewled. “I can’t ev’n do not’ing.”

“Aw,” he brought Stein in once again, warmly hushing his bawling. “I’m sorry you’re feeling so fussy, baby.”

Franken immediately looked up at Spirit, his eyes switching from wide-set at first to squinted and glazed over, his fingers immediately making their way back to his mouth, as his previously taut figure melted into the weapon’s chest.

“F’ssy,” he shakily repeated, hiccuping.

“Yeah, fussy,” Stein nuzzled into this shoulder, one arm holding his dinosaur, the other wrapping around his partner and gripping his shirt, as he sniveled even more so.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay.. It’ll be okay, Stein.”

“Won’,” he denied in a voice Spirit found it difficult not to coo at.

“Even if that’s the case, I’m always here, okay? You know that right?”

“M’no.”

Spirit delicately scratched at his scalp, primping his unkempt hair. “Hm…. That’s okay. I guess I’ll just have to show you, then, huh?”

“Don’ think I can live much longer,” he stumbled over his words, unsteadily speaking. “Na’ able.”

Albarn’s expression gave in to his sullen feelings, as he patted Stein’s back, rocking them both from side to side.

“No, you can make it through, you’re strong,” he encouraged the boy.

“You don’ get it,” he yowled. “Na’ my choice. Can’ do not’ing ad’all.”

Spirit continued to shush him, as that was all he could do, petting his hair, stroking his back, ensuring him that he’d always be there.

“‘M all gone. Bye-bye,” it was difficult to make much sense of what he was saying, but there was something at the bottom of the scythe’s soul that almost could grasp it.

<——————————————————>

Eventually, Stein’s eyes sluggishly closed, though he tried eagerly to hold them open. His sobs died down, his sniffling coming to a close, as he no longer babbled.

Spirit peered down at the male’s face, sympathizing with him as he witnessed how swollen and red his eyes were, his eyelashes doused in teardrops, cheeks completely damp. Even his neck was moist with the droplets that flowed downwards.

The weapon carefully and attentively pushed the meister’s bangs out of the way, caressing the side of his face perceptible to him, as he tucked the loose and free hair behind his ear.

“Please tell me what’s wrong,” he muttered, disquieted by the whole ordeal. “I hope you can learn to trust me. I’m sure that won’t be easy, though, huh? You’ve never trusted anyone your life, have you?”

And he hadn’t. That much was evident.

As he held Franken’s body in his arms, he didn’t dare to move, even as he groaned and whimpered in a distressed and distraught manner in his sleep.

Was he supposed to wake him? Or would that only prove to make him more fussy and irritable?

He never knew what he was meant to do when it came to Stein.

He could only pray that one day he’d finally figure the meister out.

[angel-archivist]

It's so interesting and so exceedingly frustrating how agab is being utilized now within the queer community as a way to isolate and sort nonbinary and genderqueer folks into binary boxes that determine their moral purity levels, and their authority to do and write and exist.

The way nonbinary writers are being put under accusation of fetishizing gay men while their AGAB is continually brought up in a way that feels like queer-space-approved misgendering.

The way feminist circles that are supposedly trans-inclusive will use the word AFAB in a way that implicitly but intentionally isolates nonbinary people who aren't AFAB from joining. It's for women*.

The way the language is already flawed and leaves out intersex folks from the conversations while focusing on a binary of sex that isn't truthful.

The constant obsessing over whether someone is AFAB or AMAB and whether or not that gives them the privilege to join, do, write, or be present in certain spaces really really concerns me. How are we supposed to dismantle a binary system of gender if we can't even move past forcibly assigning and focusing on people's genders assigned at birth?

[delicourse]

ohh to befriend a wolf...

[uncanny-tranny]

I know I've talked about this before, but as somebody with Strong features who has been mocked for it, it really infuriates me when people bully others for changing their strong features through surgery instead of criticizing beauty culture, you know, a big issue as to why people with strong or ethnic features are often bullied or even discriminated against. When you bully people for altering their appearance through surgery, you may just be victim-blaming somebody. Beauty culture is the issue, not somebody using their bodily autonomy as they see fit.

[majorshatterandhare]

Today I, an aromantic, was getting ready to attend a wedding… with Stranger on repeat.

[raiiny-bay]

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[magpigment]

finally got to episode 52 of jrwi and it’s good to see it’s taken a break from our regularly scheduled comedy podcast for an incredibly lengthy period of blatant psychological torture!! tune in next time to see what our poor motherfuckers are going to be Put Through Next!!!

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 21

chapter 36:

1. “It's been so long. Oh, there you are, here you are, hi,” *deep breath* AHHHHHHHHH

2. 😭😭😭 “Remus keeps a firm grip on him and turns around to promptly leave, which is probably a little rude, considering that the others are here and may wish to greet him, but he honestly can't bring himself to care about that right now” i would expect nothing less

3. WOLFSTAR REUNION!!!! I AM IN SHAMBLES!

4. “On the way, James glances back with a grin, internally wishing Sirius all the good things, because no one deserves them more.”

oh. wow. that’s such a soft line. it’s literally making me melt

5. “Remus could not be more in love if he tried.” shit shit shit shit sobbing. wolfstar deserves the world

6. “He does love Sirius, though. Loves him dearly, with every defiant bone in his body. This man, who doesn't even realize the importance of what he's just done by giving Remus an unopened envelope. Remus, who owns nothing. Remus, who has nothing. Remus, who is not granted privacy or freedom for anything like this, for anything at all.”

i am on PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION and i am BAWLING my eyes out as silently as i possibly can. y’all don’t understand the restraint i have right now to not loudly sob

7. the LETTER has me CRYING

8. THE SECRET MESSAGE

9. oh, okay. remus killed an auror/greyback. it’s honestly not as bad as i thought it would be. also, i love the lily and remus duo. they’re so iconic

10. i LOVE LOVE LOVE that zar made a point for sirius to have the discussion that his demisexuality is NOT because of trauma and he’s always been that way. it’s beautiful <3

11. “”You can ask Regulus and James; I walked around for a solid month making everyone call me Mr. Sirius Macdonald."” STOP PLSS THATS SO FUNNY

12. SIRIUS JUST TOLD REMUS HE LOVED HIM!!! this is literally so sweet

13. andjskjdksksjsms the authors note:

“sirius, internally: a guillotine could not sever the head im about to give this man. good for them 😌”

chapter 37:

1. i’m starting a gofundme to get regulus a balcony

2. "”Sirius doesn't let me drink," James replies flatly.

"Well, don't say it like that, James. You make it sound like I'm a strict parent, or a controlling spouse," Sirius grumbles. "And I do let you drink, in moderation, when you're in a safe environment and in a good mental state. Don't forget to mention that you only let me drink within those same rules."”

i bet james is upset with the rules he made for sirius so long ago. came back to bite him in the ass

3. describing sirius as “ruffled like an offended bird” has done wonders for my mental health

4. james, remus, and sirius are all hanging out and i am beyond angry that peter doesn’t get to share this moment

5. pandora is such an angel and doesn’t deserve this pain

6. pandora and reg friendship >>>>>>>>>

7. their outfits for the night!! every last one of them is slaying so hard

8. “There's a tense moment where a group of murderers all stare around at each other, not opposed to adding a few more names to their lists. Oh, and Pandora is there, too, startlingly calm despite this.”

yaxley needs to shut his fucking mouth and stop implying that sirius will fuck his way through issues

9. “"You know what they'll assume we're doing."

"Running away," Regulus mutters.

James sighs in exasperation and fond amusement. "No, Reg. Fucking. They'll assume we've snuck off to find a corner to go fuck in."”

😭😭😭😭😭 i love reg. he’s so ready to leave

10. jegulus is getting their shit together and improving. i’m so glad

11. “James swallows. "They're—they destroy things now, when they never did before. They're rough sometimes. Bloody."

"Warm," Regulus counters, pressing another kiss to James' shaking fingers. "Steady. Strong. These hands hold the people you love. These hands care for them. They're gentle. Tender."”

this is love. what they have is love. it’s messy and broken and so difficult, but they’re trying and it’s love

12. and once again we have wolfstar my true loves ☺️☺️

i feel like nows a good time to add to respect bizzarestars’ wishes to not have the fic reposted or reuploaded a different site. i can’t remember his wishes about bookbinding, but respect those as well.

thank you, lovely people

[trans-estinien]

honestly though. if youre one of those people that think the garlean arc in endwalker/post endwalker & sorrows of werlyt were "bad" please get off my blog.

[thedandelionthief]

Current mood is just failing at life in general

[soldier-poet-king]

Came to the realization (I've connected it! You didn't connect shit!) about the link between Stoicism (in the philosophical sense) and common trauma responses - both center around the locus of control, and having control over the boundaries of said locus.

The Stoics right, the whole thing with "virtue is sufficient for happiness" is that you don't worry about things outside of your control, and so moral actions (and therefore eudaimonia) are exclusively things within your realm of influence (yes yes that's a gross oversimplification, but the bulk of my academic work was with the Platonists anyway). The Stoics knew where the locus of control was, and their virtue, and their happiness, stemmed (in theory) from knowing, acknowledging, thinking, and acting within the boundaries of this sphere.

A common trauma response also revolves around control, or the lack thereof. When you're accustomed to instability and a lack of a sense of safety control becomes both a means of salvation and damnation. The lack of control, the uncertainty of it, the sense of walking on eggshells, is what causes the trauma in the first place - you have no control over anything and it's terrifying and dangerous.

But control can also mean safety, if you can manage to get it. And you can get control in one of two ways. You can reduce your environment severely, withdrawing from the world out of fear and isolating yourself. Or you can falsely extend your control, tricking yourself into a sense of stability with (often unhealthy) lies and mindgames. Often, people do both. They may become withdrawn and anti-social and fearful of new experiences, even if it is something that there is no reason to fear, no indication that it might be threatening. They withdraw as much as possible from any relationship, experience, or event which has any degree of uncertainty, which they cannot control.

You may also become a people-pleaser, or obsessive about responsibility and causality - if you take the blame for every event on yourself it restores a sense of control, even if it is based in falsity. If you are responsible for managing someone's moods, or causing widespread tragedy, or what have you, then you yourself are the only one to blame when you are punished or when something terrible happens. It is a small comfort perhaps, but better than no comfort at all. It is easier to think that the fault is within yourself, that only if you were faster, smarter, better this terrible thing would not happen. It gives the illusion that it may be different in the future, if you are (impossibly) better. It is easier than living with the knowledge that you can't control it, you can't do anything to change it, and you just have to live like this. The solace of lies you tell yourself.

I'm not sure where I'm going with this observation maybe I'm in love with the sound of my own silly little thoughts. Someone smarter and more eloquent could make further connections about the locus of control and how the Stoics did not try to change it, while trauma responses simultaneously try to reduce and expand that locus as a defence mechanism. I'm sure there's some sort of philosophical or psychological implication here. I'm sure Real Academics and psychologists have already made this observation elsewhere, but it only occurred to me this afternoon.

[sysig]

Some more Just Desserts pets, and thinking about Candy Mers again (Patreon)

Also ft. the pigeon study I did, what a cute bird!

[krourou2]

… y’know. I know it’s simply the nature of the Internet, but there’s something both oddly lovely and dreadful about how things can just… cease to be. Just stop being there. Vanish into dust, save perhaps hollowed ruins should anyone think to archive it, faint echoes of what once was.

Only ghosts remain.