#i'm very dysfunctional

[trixree]

in the mood for codywan spicy fics, any recs???

Per my last post, I'm catching up on old Asks, AO3 comments, and messages received during my hiatus! (Psst, go do my Fanfic Poll)

So I play this game in my brain called "the things you love are illegal to enjoy" whenever I am in times of high-stress. The way that this manifested for me during the last, give or take, 5 months??? is that I've thrown myself into fandoms that I AM NOT IN, I DO NOT CARE ABOUT, THESE ARE NOT MY MEOW MEOWS, because the stakes are lower for enjoyment, ya know? Like, it was too stressful to read codywan for awhile because I LOVE THESE CHARACTERS and have VERY STRONG OPINIONS AND FEELINGS ABOUT THEM. So instead I started realling call of duty fanfic. no, i cannot explain that move. I will not even try. my partner keeps jump scaring me by googling what the characters in COD look like and showing them to me. That in fact ruins it for me. I don't want to know what these men look like, the point is that I have less than 0 investment in them and that's why i can fearlessly enjoy them banging across many different surfaces. I call it 0-investment smut.

Now that I am somewhat A Person again, I plan to go back to fandoms that I truly do have lots of investment in.

GIVE ME YOUR CODYWAN RECS!!!!!

(I do want to note with immense sadness that my absolute favorite codywan writer of all time, @glimmerglanger both here and on AO3, removed their fics from AO3 I believe due to harassment they were facing. I wasn't around at the time all this went down so I don't know many [if any] of the relevant details, but I was very sad to see that this happened to them and i would be remiss if I didn't at least mention that the fandom has lost an incredible source of talent with their departure. Many of their fics were personally very impactful on me and I hope that they are doing well and wish them all the very best. And here's your reminder that fanfic writers do what they do out of a love for the craft, out of a love for the universe and its characters, and harassment of a creator you don't like is NEVER justified.)

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

anyone else have multiple traumatic memories associated specifically with holidays/family vacations? because that is a topic I never see discussed in all the So You Had A Shitty Childhood, Now What? self-help books i've been reading. but for me, it was a significant thing. and the more i think about it the more it seems like this would be an (unfortunately) common experience. would be grateful to hear if this matches other peoples' experiences...

[coquelicoq]

the executive dysfunction is not going to win today. i am winning. pay no heed to the fact that i am on tumblr writing this post instead of doing a task. i am winning. i am winning. i am winning.

[lylahammar]

does anyone else feel like they become neurotypical while they're in the shower

[creekfiend]

oh my god today was so comically garbage and I decided to end it by trying to make waffles for myself which I have been doing multiple times a week for the last month and I know the proportions by heart and yet I got them incredibly wrong and then I was like "no worries I will simply make a double batch and freeze some of them" and then I got the proportions even wronger and now I have like five very dense very dry waffles instead of eight regular waffles that would have had the right amount of milk in them and I am going to bed and tomorrow the gremlins had better cast their eyes on someone who isn't me or I cannot make any promises about what I will do

[lucreziagiovane]

"He's not a villain, he is misunderstood and wants people to realize that he's actually doing things for the right reasons but by doing that he acts like a child and acts like brute and acts like a bit of a psychopath at times. As far as Juan is concerned he's always had the best interests of the family at heart, however misguided that might be and doesn't quite comprehend why nobody understands that. Nobody seems to understand that what he does, he does for the betterment of the Borgia clan and never waivers from that. He does that in ways that perhaps aren't sanctioned by the church or sanctioned by family law. It's a great character to play, that's for sure." — DAVID OAKES

[gideonisms]

Once again frustrated by how Difficult it is to do very basic tasks

[ruvviks]

The Dobrynin family is a corpo family through and through, rooted in Arasaka and Orbital Air going back by several generations; though their powerful position within the corporate world ends with the children of Nadya and Matvey Dobrynin. With Vitali and Daniil fired from Arasaka and Kang Tao respectively— the former indirectly getting his parents fired, too— and Roksana having refused to set foot within a megacorporation from the start, the family begins crumbling apart at the very seams when clashing interests lead to grudges, betrayal, and pointless acts of revenge. ↳ read the unrevised fic here if you're interested!

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @roseeway, @stars-of-the-heart;

@lestatlioncunt, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree;

@kanos, @swordcoasts, @ordinarymaine, @claudiawolf, @strafethesesinners

[dracaelus]

Do you ever just think about how in Batman The Knight, Bruce mentions they promised to not use guns and yet Bruce is the first one to shoot Luka to protect Khoa? Especially considering his small flashes whenever he had to use guns even at inhuman targets? And he still did it?

YES!!! Yes, I do!!!

I went through this specific issue recently and i have so many thoughts, I hope you don't mind me using your ask as an excuse to ramble :)

Bruce was having such a bad time in this issue it's not even funny. Luka just decided to kill the only constant figure in his life at this point, his partner, his bestie, his boy crush, his only companion, and just expected him to sit and watch while he shot him right in front of his eyes, like, bro, right in front of the traumatized by loved ones being shot in front of him boy??? WHY

And of course that happened after months of him relieving this particular trauma repeatedly on account of having to use guns and interact daily with a guy who, bc of his past career, he couldn't help but compare to his parents' murderer. Why not, after all. Just marinate him a bit before going for the kill.

Obviously, Bruce couldn't let Luka just kill Khoa, so he takes the gun, and he doesn't even kill Luka, but taking that shot was such a difficult thing to do in such a stressful situation in which he's clearly relieving his biggest trauma. And like, sure, he made his promise to Luka, but more than that, guns are forever associated with his parents death and their murderer. Bruce very much can't use guns on real people without shaking, trembling, throwing up, yk, feeling like he's putting himself in the shoes of joe chill and feeling so intensely guilty. It’s really his last resort - if it was Bruce’s life that Luka was threatening, he might even have let himself be killed in order to not have to use the gun.

However, since the universe is not over with him yet, and still has some ideas about how to make his day worse, it decides instead to force his hand by making Minhkhoa be the one being held at gunpoint. Thus, Bruce does take the shot anyway in the worst way possible and in the worst situation ever, and literally the only thing that could've been worse would be making him kill someone, so of course,

THEN

MINHKHOA TAKES THE GUN

AND SHOOTS LUKA RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM

MAKING SO THAT BRUCE'S SHOT REALLY RESULTED IN SOMEONE'S DEATH

ONCE AGAIN

RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIS TRAUMATIZED EYES

and as if this wasn't enough

HE THEN POINTS THE GUN AT BRUCE

Honestly his biggest crime, I don't care about the murders and other felonies, this moment right here is the only thing he ever did wrong.

Like, can you imagine the level of brain damage bruce was receiving that day?

Khoa went from loved-one-about-to-be-killed to being the one walking on joe chill's shoes. His range, honestly. No wonder Bruce got so mad and then so heartbroken. Crying his eyes out, literally hugging himself. The saddest, most traumatized boy ever

Anyways, bruce still misses him, even after all khoa put him through. Or, as he says, he misses who he thought he was. After their first breakup khoa's image took a lot of damage - bruce really starts to wonder if khoa wasn't just a monster and he was the only one not seeing it. He thinks minhkhoa is sabotaging him, and that he might have killed alfred and his ex-girlfriend.

But of course nothing of this it's true and Khoa manages to undo some of the damage to bruce's opinion of him by trying to warn him about the guy actually sabotaging and trying to kill both of them (he also almost dies in the process, which i'm sure made him seem extra harmless and babygirly to bruce), so i guess that was enough to take away the thoughts of khoa being very likely to kill him one day.

He also offers a justification for the two murders he committed (Luka and master Ouahbi - honestly, what's the deal with all those criminals/ex criminals being both so good at diagnosing people with psychopathy and hating them so much????), and it was good enough for bruce, i guess? Tbh, he was mostly just trying to not think too deeply about it, 'cause he just wanted to have a little more time with him so badly. He would do so many things for khoa, and forgive him for so much stuff. HOW COULD KHOA FUMBLE HIM SO BADLY-

One thing I think about a lot is how in btk #7, bruce’s broken heart is addressed - he only references his trauma with his parents death in the issue, but the last issue ended with him saying his heart was broken bc of khoa so we can infer that he’s thinking about what happened between the two of them too. I find it interesting how this seems to be bruce’s way of dealing with khoa - he doesn't talk about him. Dick mentions it in Batman (2016) #104

And bruce never says a word about what happened between him and khoa to zatanna

I wonder if this is his way of keeping khoa with him. As he says, his heart never heals bc he doesn't let it - and so, he never talks about khoa, he only talks with zatanna about the loss of his parents, and he tells dick some of the bad khoa did to him, but doesn't delve into how important he was to him, or the good times they spent together, or how willing he was and still is to forgive him (tho he ends up showing him this part anyways when he goes to ghostmaker to ask him to coparent batman inc. with him when he first started it). He tells their story in a way that makes it seem like their separation didn't affect him negatively at all - dick only realizes bruce still misses him bc of his super powers of seeing right through bruce’s emotional barriers. But bruce keeps refusing to talk about khoa, or adress the ways in which he is still hurting, so he nevers gets better, and thus, khoa is still with him in a way, if only in wounds he left behind.

I also think bruce focuses a lot on everything bad khoa did to him and tries so hard to not even think about the good parts of their relationship bc the truth is, in his heart, the good outweighs the bad by a lot. Which is the reason why khoa barely has to do anything to win him back every time he comes back - bc despite everything, bruce has always been way too willing to forgive him for everything, and all he really has to do is to come back, and be willing to stay for a little while longer.

[gotchibam]

Dragonite ko-fi doodle for RayStarKitty!

[kindnessoverperfection]

ADHD really does put everything at equal levels of importance, huh? Like I'll have an email I need to write that'll take maybe 10 minutes, and getting that done will alleviate 6 months of stress. Then I'll notice a sock on the floor I need to put away. Then I'll get the strong conviction that it's up to me to cure cancer. And my brain will tell me that I need to do all of them at once, start and finish them all in the time span of 0 seconds, and my executive dysfunction will throw up its hands and do none of the above.

[zebratimw]

Spirit animal SQH

[veliseraptor]

WAIT ONE MORE IF YOU'RE GAME: mu qing/hua cheng 👀

yesss. hahaha yesssssssss <- me, about these two, constantly. like, the only reason I'm not thinking about them more is a decided lack of people to share that thinking with but oh boy would everything about their relationship be an absolute hot mess and it'd be great (for me)

the devotion here is for sure the fucked up kind but particularly hua cheng's devotion to loathing mu qing forever is Notable to me. all that remains is for them to get weirder about it. but also like. what if post-canon huaqing, that could be fun too, mostly I think about 800 year timeskip huaqing but consider--

[3-2-whump]

Brotherhood

A Thomas Costa Backstory, as told by himself.

Happy Day-before-Labor Day for US residents, and to everyone else, happy day before the beginning of your week! Let’s complete this backstory!

Full collection of Thomas Costa Backstories here

TW/CW: military whump, dysfunctional family relationships, allusion to neglected childhood, death of a minor character, whumpee turned whumper (whumper, former whumpee), slave whump, suicidal insinuation (at the very end, but honestly you could skip it and it would still make sense)

2002

“Gentlemen, this is the group we will be working with on the joint operation,” Sgt. Robinson announced. “Get to know each other…”

The rest of the introductions faded into the background noise as Thomas stared at a familiar face amongst the new squad. A pair of dark brown eyes that looked nothing like his own stared back with apprehension, despite the placid little smile on his slim face. A nerve twitched as Thomas clenched his jaw. Though it had been six years since he’d left home in the foolish hopes of something better, he would recognize his own brother’s face when he saw it.

“Costa, is there a problem?” his sergeant asked him.

Thomas remembered where he was as several pairs of eyes landed on him. Interestingly, the squad they would work with all zeroed in on Tony with the same intense curiosity. “No, Sergeant,” he replied as he reflexively straightened his posture.

“Care to explain why you’re glaring daggers at the new squad’s private first class?” And here he thought he was being subtle. Sgt. Robinson looked at Tony, then back at Thomas, and finally put it together. “Wait, you’re both Costa.” The man groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re related or something?” 

“This is my little brother, Sergeant,” Thomas explained as he willed his tone to stay as neutral as possible. “And last I checked, we weren’t desperate enough to take high schoolers in the US military-”

“Hey, I’m twenty years old!” Tony protested.

Some brief murmurs floated from his guys and Tony’s, but they were quickly shut down by the sergeant’s cold glare as he loudly cleared his throat. “Well, shit. It would have been preferable to avoid putting family on the same mission, but we can’t operate two units at less than half-capacity, so we’re just gonna have to deal with what we’ve got,” Robinson sighed. “So, dickhead 1 and dickhead 2,” he addressed, referring to Tom as ‘1,’ “you unfuck your family bullshit and make friendly in twenty. The rest of you, make sure those dumbasses don’t do the Taliban’s work for them and off themselves.” He threw in the last part so casually, as if he were reminding these soldiers to pick up a gallon of milk. Once he’d gotten a satisfactory amount of “yes Sergeant,” the commander left them to their own devices.

As soon as he left, Thomas immediately jumped on his younger brother. Yet, unlike the times when they were kids, Tony now had enough muscle on his bones to fight back. Both brothers pushed against the other as they tried to take advantage of any weak spot their opponent had.

Half of the team was trying to break up the impromptu wrestling match, and the other half of the team cheered on their respective Costa. Eventually, Thomas took advantage of his naturally bulkier frame to pin Tony’s smaller body to the floor, grabbing him by the front of his uniform and slamming his head into the dirt. Tony’s springy legs snaked their way from between where his older brother straddled him to curl up knees to chest, finally expelling Thomas from on top of him with a well-placed kick to the stomach. Thomas lurched upwards and landed ass-first on the ground. Tony tackled him, inverting their previous position, and got a few punches in until their audience finally decided to put an end to it. The two were forcibly separated for the rest of the day as their squads formed a protective ring around them, ensuring neither Thomas nor Tony could get within arm’s reach of each other until sundown.

Thomas had gone up late at night to the balcony of the watch tower to clear his head. He pulled out his cigarettes, then cursed under his breath as he realized he forgot the lighter. Just before he resigned himself to climb down the metal stairs and go back to the bunks to fetch it, a shadowed figure stepped into view. Tony stood on the balcony too, his own cigarette glowing dimly in hand as he held out a lighter like an olive branch. Thomas muttered his thanks as he plucked it from his brother’s hand and ignited his own cigarette before he passed it back. They stared out onto the endless desert plains with nothing but the moonlight behind them, until Tony finally broke the silence between the brothers.  “I’m sorry I punched you.”

“No you’re not,” Thomas retorted.

Tony muttered his own curse under his breath before he tried his apology again. “I’m sorry I ratted on you all those times when we were kids,” he murmured, his tone sincere.

Thomas shook his head, dispelling the cigarette smoke around his head as it moved. “Don’t be sorry, I would’ve done the same thing.” As if he could imagine straight-laced little Tony openly rebelling against their grandpa. The very thought wrung a wry chuckle from his lips.

“Yeah right,” Tony argued. “You might’ve been the more rebellious of the two of us, but at least you were always loyal. If anything, you probably would’ve snuck out alongside me.”

“Probably.” Thomas took a puff of his cigarette. He turned around and leaned onto the railing of the balcony, facing his brother who was copying the action. “So, why did you always rat on me? I actually want to know.”

“Well, it wasn’t out of any malice, surprising as that may sound,” Tony answered.

“So, you really were that much of a kiss-ass?”

Tony lightly punched his older brother’s arm and threw what could only be described as a pout at him. What was once an adorable little pout on a child now looked ridiculous on a grown man wearing desert camo. “If you really must know, I wanted praise and validation, just like you did, even if you were too prideful to show it,” Tony answered.

“When had I ever wanted Grandpa Tony’s praise?” Thomas asked incredulously. “Did we even grow up in the same house?”

The younger Tony crossed his arms and leaned against the railing too as he leveled him a flat stare. “I remember more than you think I do,” he said. “I remember when you used to spend several hours with the tutor to get your grades up. I remember you training so hard and going all out on those judo competitions. And in sixth grade, it finally paid off. You finally got an A in at least one subject and a gold medal at the youth competition. Yet it was never enough, was it?” His brother’s eyes softened into an expression that made Thomas uncomfortable. “No matter how hard you tried, it was never enough for Grandpa Tony, or for Mom, was it, Tom?”

What was that look, one of pity? Thomas met his brother’s eyes with a glare of his own. “It was much easier for you,” he muttered, taking a drag of his cigarette. “You had all the brains, and the talent, and a failure of a big brother you could always exceed.”

Tony’s brow wrinkled. “You don’t really think you’re a failure, do you?” Thomas’ silence as he exhaled his smoke was a reply in and of itself. “Bro! You’re not a fail-”

“Don’t. Pity. Me,” the older brother growled. He fixed his glare out onto the desert in front of them, huffing an annoyed little plume of smoke into the night.

Tony shook his head. “We had such a fucked-up childhood, didn’t we?” The way he said it didn’t sound like a question.

The brothers stared out over the horizon. “Things are gonna be different, when we come back,” Tony said decisively. He took a drag of his cigarette, holding it thoughtfully between his lips as he stared out at a future only he could see. “You’ll come home with me-”

“I’d rather eat shit,” Thomas deadpanned.

“You’ll come home with me,” Tony insisted, “and I will argue for leniency from the boss. Then, when I take over the Costa family one day –you’re not interested in becoming the boss anymore, are you?” he interrupted himself.

Thomas shook his head. To hell with the Costa family.

Tony continued. “-so when I take over for Grandpa Tony one day, I’ll bring you back into the family, and you can be my enforcer. That’s only if you want to, of course, don’t want to force you or nothing, but you’d be great at it.” He stubbed his cigarette out on the railing before casually flicking the extinguished butt into the sand below. “I just miss you, bro,” he admitted.

In that moment, it was all too easy for Thomas to see not the young man thrown straight into war, but the little boy whom he grew up with, still holding onto a childlike optimism that Thomas envied. “Yeah, I missed you too, bro.” His lips quirked into a small smile. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone with that asshole for so long,” he replied sincerely.

“You better be,” Tony groused. “It wasn’t easy being the sole focus of Grandpa’s hopes and dreams all these years!”

“But things will be different when we come back,” Thomas repeated. He stubbed his own cigarette out and tossed it. “If you’re serious about it, then I am too. Things will be different, and you and I will be brothers like we should’ve been.”

-

2020

It was a bright and sunny autumn day when Thomas finally made it out to the cemetery. He stooped over the grass before he folded his legs underneath him to kneel in the sun-warmed patch of earth. He faced the granite headstone that bore his brother’s name.

“Sorry I couldn’t come out for your birthday,” he apologized under his breath. “This ‘running the family business’ shit is hard work sometimes!” He dug his fingers into the dirt to pluck out the dandelions and bitter cress that grew around Tony’s grave, all while filling him in on the latest news.

“Master? Who are you talking to?”

Thomas had forgotten that he didn’t come to the cemetery alone. He stopped his murmurings and turned to look over his shoulder. “Khaled, come here,” he called, waving the slave over to him. The young man set the bucket and jug of water down as he knelt alongside his master. Thomas made the posthumous introduction. “This is Tony, my brother. Tony, this is Khaled, the boy I keep telling you about.”

Khaled, to his credit, respectfully canted his head in greeting to the gravestone in front of him. “Is this where you go on Memorial Day and anniversaries when you don’t tell me where you’re going, Master?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Thomas fished out a flask from the inside of his coat and unscrewed the cap. Unlike most times he carried a flask with him, this one just held water inside. He poured it reverently over the gravestone’s top, letting it flow down the engraved granite as he instructed Khaled to pass him a sponge from inside the bucket.

“We thought we hated each other, Tony and I, and for a long while we did,” he reminisced as he cleaned away the dust and debris. “But that doesn’t change the fact he was my brother.”

A thoughtful look passed over Khaled’s face as he lowered his hand into the bucket and procured the second sponge, wetting it with water from the jug before he began scrubbing the gravestone too. They scrubbed and rinsed the tombstone in peace, with the occasional odd quips from Thomas as he recalled old memories and fresh regrets. Khaled pulled him away from the latest train of thought as he lowered the sponge and focused on the headstone to the left of them. “Luciano Antonio Costa?” he read aloud.

Thomas briefly glanced at the shabbier, much more neglected headstone. “Oh yeah, Grandpa Tony. That was the last boss, before me, and buried next to him is his wife, Augusta Francesca. And his father and mother are buried somewhere close to here.” He made a small sweeping motion around the Costa family burial plot. “And as for me, I’ll be buried here, next to my brother one day,” he said, patting the earth to the right of Tony’s grave. His right-hand man, just like we’d planned, he thought.

“And where will I be buried, Master?”

The morbid question snapped Thomas out of his thoughts as he stared curiously at his slave. “Aren’t you a little young to be worried about that yet?” he asked. Khaled stared silently back at him, his face set in a completely serious expression. The master dropped the now dirtied sponge to awkwardly rub at his neck. “Honestly, I hadn’t thought about it until just now,” he admitted, “though I guess you’ll be buried here with me one day.” He caught a glimpse of something broken and defeated in the depths of Khaled’s dark eyes. “You’d better tell me what your burial customs are if we’re already talking about something like this,” he suggested. Privately, he made a note to monitor Khaled’s actions more closely from now on. If his one and only very expensive pet was feeling suicidal, the last thing he needed was to leave any razors or pills out in the open.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

[wonder-worker]

"The newly widowed Elizabeth (Woodville) was exceptionally vulnerable. Several of the trustees responsible for her jointure refused to hand over the manors that were meant to sustain her in her widowhood. Moreover, her brother-in-law, Edward Grey, had seized estates that her son Thomas should have inherited from his paternal grandfather, while her mother-in-law’s new young husband, Sir John Bourchier, had prevailed on Lady Ferrers to settle her principal properties on them jointly for life, ensuring that Thomas would have to wait far longer for this inheritance too. Rivers and Scales were pardoned in July 1461 and swiftly moved into the Yorkist establishment, which perhaps explains the success of the chancery suits Elizabeth launched to regain her jointure. Her son’s inheritance proved harder to recover. By 1463, Rivers was often in (Edward IV's) company and on his council, but Elizabeth needed someone with much stronger influence over the King. She turned to a distant kinsman, William, Lord Hastings, the King’s chamberlain. Hastings drove a very hard bargain for his aid but it was probably amid these negotiations that the King’s desire for Elizabeth was kindled."

-J.L. Laynesmith, "Elizabeth Woodville: the Knight's Widow", Later Plantagenet and Wars of the Roses Consorts: Power, Influence, and Dynasty

[nostalgia-tblr]

I reckon I have at least one more sifki fic in me, somewhere. Because look:

They've definitely fucked, haven't they? (I made a gif to prove it. It's a fact now. A gif-proved fact.) There's a turbulent history there, I know it in my bones. I want to squish them together on the virtual page and see whether they fight or they fuck, or if - which I think is most likely - they do both of those things and also at least one of them cries for the lost innocence of the past and for the lost hopes of a misplaced future.