#obviously if you created it for some specific thing then okay

[drchucktingle]

work of jordan peele is BIG influence on chuck this is correct. there are quite a few similarities actually, especially when you consider both of us are coming to horror from place of comedy (i personally do not see tinglers as comedy but obviously this timeline has placed them there and i am perfectly okay with this trot).

we are both creating horror stories for our own historically marginalized groups and in particular, writing stories that are SPECIFIC to those groups.

for example when thinking about QUEER HORROR there is plenty of queer horror where the horror itself has nothing to do with queerness, or the queerness is subtext. for instance you could have a slasher where the main characters happen to be gay, but their queerness is not necessarily part of the fear.

on the other hand, CAMP DAMASCUS is directly commenting on a queer issue

BURY YOUR GAYS is directly commenting on a queer issue

by the same token GET OUT is directly commenting on a race issue

US is directly commenting on a class issue which is, of course, going to be wrapped up in topics of race and marginalization

it should be said that the other kinds of horror where issues of the marginalized groups is more in the SUBTEXT are not wrong. there is a time and a place for that. the book that will likely be chucks next horror novel is about bi erasure, but it is much more about the subtext and symbolism. there is a bi lead, but also a monster that does not seem to be about bi erasure AT FIRST. it is much less direct. so there is a time and a place for both kinds of approaches.

but i think the biggest thing that is similar about jordan and chucks approach (and what has been a big influence on me specifically) is that our goal is NOT: 'how HORRIFYING AND TRAUMATIC AND MESSED UP CAN WE MAKE THIS?'

we are doing something else

processing trauma by exposure can be a common goal for horror AND honestly i think it is also totally dang fine to make art like this. there are some incredible pieces where trauma and tragedy is the goal. however (and i will speak for myself here) when you are coming from a buckaroo community that has been through so much of this trauma in real life, i PERSONALLY find that goal to be a little too boring.

my goal is more like this: how can we use this genre of fear and tension that i love to comment and explore and say something new? how can i pull apart an issue and deconstruct it in a way that is cathartic and maybe even changes minds?

so i cannot speak for jordan but i feel like our approaches are similar in this way. i see a LOT of reviews that make comparisons between CAMP DAMASCUS and GET OUT and i am always very flattered

[blockgamepirate]

This is my petty complaint time, this video annoys me SO MUCH and even more so what annoys me is that the latest comment on it is this:

HE TAUGHT YOU SO MUCH BULLSHIT, PLEASE NO, DON'T LISTEN TO HIM

And yes, I've been thinking about this stream for nearly three years now, I've been meaning to go through it to critique Wilbur's arguments, I just never got around to it

Wilbur: "Tubbo, you've created an anti-state capitalist dystopia"

So all Tubbo had explained so far was that his town had a big company that owned two other big companies. Nothing about the government or anything. It's true that one company owning all the major businesses is pretty dystopian, sure, but I have no idea where Wilbur got the "anti-state" thing from, usually capitalist companies are fine with the existence of states, states do a lot of dirty work for the capitalists

Spoiler alert: Tubbo's city turns out to be pretty much a city state so Wilbur is just wrong anyway, not that he ever acknowledges it even when it does come up

Also it's not like corporate acquisitions are completely unheard of in the UK, as far as I know. Admittedly the UK is also arguably a capitalist dystopia but you know what I mean, the concept shouldn't be all that shocking to Wilbur

He's being so dramatic and trying to make it sound like he's caught Tubbo in a mistake or something. He also keeps asking questions and then not letting Tubbo answer properly before taking like one word Tubbo says and running with it

But this is the one that I find the most obnoxious:

T: "I did some research into like economics and stuff and I discovered this thing called UBI, have you heard of it?"

W: "What's it stand for?"

T: "Universal Basic Income"

W: "Yeah, I know about that"

He clearly does not know what UBI is.

It becomes very apparent very quickly:

W: "So you've got universal basic income but then also the rich exist still?"

T: "Yeah! Yeah they do."

W: "How does that come about then,"

T: "So in my mind--"

W: "is this universal basic income different for different people?"

T: "No, no, the universal basic income is better for everyone, just the people who have--"

W: "In order for there to be a 1% that means someone's earning more,"

T: "Yes, someone is earning more"

W: "but that means the universal basic income isn't universal!"

T: "No no no, not everyone's getting paid the same but everyone gets the same to begin with, okay? But then you can build on top of it."

W: "Oh no, you've got a-- Tubbo, you've got a fucking social point system!"

T: "Have I made a social point system??"

W: "Tubbo, you've made China!"

None of what Wilbur says makes ANY sense here. The only explanation I can think of is that he didn't know what UBI was, made an assumption that it just meant "everybody gets paid the same amount of money" or something like that and then just spoke fast enough that Tubbo couldn't correct him

Tubbo is correct here, Tubbo knows what he's talking about, but he can't out-speak Wilbur who is just throwing so much bullshit out of his mouth that there's no time to even respond

So, UBI means that everyone in the society gets a regular payment of a specific amount of money that's the same for everyone regardless of their life situation (and generally a requirement would be that it has to be enough to live on, altho people do like to water this down a lot...) This would be completely irrelevant to your wages or salary or capital gains. You can choose to either live on the UBI or you can just do the regular capitalist things to earn extra money on top of the UBI

Obviously I'm not one of those people who think that UBI would solve all of world's problems, I mean I am an anarchist and all (and not an ancap either), but it's literally just a very streamlined welfare system. That's all. It would probably be a lot better than the current models we have but it's not fundamentally different. There's nothing particularly weird about it, the point is just to make sure that everyone has enough money to live on, in every other regard it's just normal capitalism

Wilbur completely misunderstands the whole thing (because, again, he does not know what UBI is so he's just trying to imagine what it might mean based on what Tubbo is saying) and jumps immediately to something he apparently has heard of, which is the Chinese social credit system, which has nothing to do with UBI. In fact I'm pretty sure it also doesn't actually have anything to do with income either, or at least not directly, so I don't think Wilbur knows what the social credit system is either

He's literally just talking in buzzwords

Like if you actually wanted to make a leftist critique of Tubbo's city, you could, don't get me wrong. But instead Wilbur keeps insisting that he's made a social point system despite Tubbo trying to explain why it's not that at all

Wilbur just keeps yelling over Tubbo until his own chat turns against him and finally Tubbo himself also kinda gives up

And from there Tubbo also kinda just starts playing into the bit and just lets Wilbur direct the whole conversation, the rest of it is just them getting more and more into the roleplay. Wilbur keeps talking about the state pension plan, even though Tubbo already tried to explain that it's part of the UBI (this actually is how UBI is supposed to work, it does indeed streamline most of the welfare spending! Obviously you can still raise questions about that (I can think of a few at least) but Wilbur didn't let Tubbo explain so I have no idea what Tubbo actually had in mind)

I could try to go through all of what Wilbur says here but it's just too much, so maybe some other time. Although to be honest there are so many other streams that I probably should talk about instead that some fans unfortunately took a bit too seriously because they assumed Wilbur knew what he was talking about

My point here is mainly that just because someone sounds really confident and knows a bunch of buzzwords doesn't mean they know what they're talking about.

[antimony-medusa]

Honestly though like if you're following Philza you should get used to the fact that since the dawn of him streaming RP people have violently disliked his reaction to any angst beats because like, the cc finds angst rp funny and is also a very giggly guy. And if you're here for drama and tragedy it looks like he's not taking the pain seriously, which is obviously going to be something you don't like seeing. Trust me. We have been here before. I have watched DSMP. There were people saying he didn't take Techno's IRL death seriously enough because he was positive on stream. Like, this is top five things people get mad at cc!phil and his characters for, after "breaks the fourth wall" and "is an imperfect person/parent" and "idk his vibes just grate and I read them as Bad y'know".

I personally think that like the fact that he was repeatedly saying to the eggs that they were gonna get Tubbo back, they'll bring him back with the create wrench cause he cares about create, don't worry it'll all be okay; that was all evidence that the character does care about Tubbo and for heaven's sake, if you want angst, read that as denial and you're fully comfortably in one of the recognized stages of grieving. I was making jokes the day people in my life died, this is also one of the ways people deal with loss. But I also see why that's a POV clash if you wanted a more straightforward depiction of grief and angst? Phil was pretty far from being in tears, which is what some people think was warranted. So like, sure, if you've been watching a specific perspective, Phil's reaction was trivializing. I can see that perspective as well.

It is not fun to see someone calling your POV "vile" and "heartless" and "too selfish to consider other people" and the other delightful stuff that I just saw on a scroll through the tag, but like, that's just POV clash, you gotta let people have their own opinions and block the neg tags and maybe block people who are being really loud. Sincerely, it does nobody any good to go beefing about people being mean about your favourite cubito. Post careful lore exploration on your own blog if you want but doing replies, sending anons, all of that is the way down which A Bad Time lies. Sincerely like, this has happened before, this will happen again, just go listen to good music or something and ignore it.

[girlgenius1111]

wavin' from the shore

screaming underwater part 2 r struggles under the weight of it all. her teammates try to help. the circumstances seem hellbent on making it impossible for her, though. tw for allusions to mistreatment from coaches / trainers. nothing specific and nothing graphic. wrote most of this while i was sad. angst ahead 🫡 [some fluff]

------

Your teammates were patient people. They sat with you until you stopped crying and collected your thoughts, which took a while. They didn’t rush you, or ask you questions. They just sat with you, squeezing your hands and murmuring comforting words. 

When you did speak, finally, your voice was scratchy from all the crying. “I don’t know where to start.” 

“Wherever you want, nena. You do not need to tell us anything you do not want to.” Mapi promised, hoping to settle your nerves. She was sitting next to you, but gripped your hand tight in hers, almost as if she needed the stability, too, but she didn’t look at you. Almost as if the look on your face would be too familiar, too painful. Alexia, on the other hand, looked determined, her eyes blazing with anger when she looked at you, though you knew you were not the cause of it. 

“What happened to your face?” Alexia asked after a minute, when it was clear you were still unsure where to begin. 

Every word that left your mouth was difficult. You had to force every syllable, keep yourself talking, remind yourself that you were safe. That you trusted your teammates. “After the article came out? The coaches were really mad, and they didn’t know who’d talked. So they punished everyone. We had to run the bleachers until we couldn’t go any farther. It was really hot, and I collapsed after 45 minutes. Hit my face on a bench on the way down.” 

You told it so emotionlessly, like you were completely detached from the situation. Alexia and Mapi knew it was just you trying to protect yourself, but it was still concerning to see the way you forced your emotions off. 

Alexia thought for a moment, trying to figure out how to ask you more without pushing too hard. “Did that happen a lot? Pushing you guys past a healthy level?” 

You were silent for too long, and when you finally spoke, it was quietly, shame clear in your tone. “What is a healthy level?” 

You weren’t proud to admit that you didn’t know. When you were with the national team, it didn’t seem like there were any boundaries, or the ability to create one. There wasn’t any opportunity to ask for a break. It wasn’t allowed. When you were with Barça, things were obviously different. You took breaks when everyone else did, and occasionally when one of your teammates told you to. 

You didn’t know what your limits were, though. All you knew was that you had to keep going, until someone told you to stop. Both girls looked struck at this confession. 

Mapi took a deep breath, before she answered you as calmly as she could. “You shouldn’t be collapsing. You shouldn’t be throwing up. I… It’s really important to know your limits, nena. Really important. You have to know, so you know when to stop, when to not push yourself too hard.” 

“I didn’t know I was allowed to do that.” You whispered. Mapi’s hands clenched into tight fists, her knuckles turning white. On your other side, Alexia inhaled a deep, shaky breath. 

“We can work on that, pequeña.” Alexia paused. “The article said something about one of the recovery specialists…” she trailed off, allowing you to respond if you wanted. 

“He was fired.” You told her stiffly. 

“Do you want to talk about that?” She asked softly. 

“No.” Your answer was firm, and both girls nodded immediately. You’d taken a big step already, calling and asking them to come over. You’d exceeded their expectations when you actually talked to them, even if it was just a little bit. 

“That is perfectly fine. Mapi and I will see what we can do, okay? Try not to worry about it. I know that is hard, but we are not going to let you near that camp again unless we know it is safe.”

“Thank you.” You mumbled, sending them each a half smile.

The conversation ended there. You were done talking, clearly. You just weren’t sure what came next, now that you’d admitted there was a problem, and shown your teammates how fragile you were. It wasn’t clear to you where you went from here.

------

The answer was, apparently, Mapi’s house. She and Alexia had decided without a single word exchanged between them that you needed supervision. Mapi had offered, and privately, you thought it must be because she missed Ingrid, and was tired of spending her days talking to her cat. 

There was no use arguing, the decision had been made, so within an hour, your bag was packed, and you’d been driven to Mapi and Ingrid’s apartment. After you’d been force fed a meal and sent to lay on the couch with an ice pack on your face, Mapi called her girlfriend. She was in the kitchen, and all you could hear were muffled voices, but you were pretty sure they were discussing you. 

Sure enough, a couple minutes later, Mapi entered the room, holding out the phone to you. 

“Ingrid wants to say hi.” She threw herself down on the couch next to you, shoving her face close to yours so that both you and her were in view of the screen. 

“Hi elskling,” Ingrid greeted softly. You’d always been close with Ingrid. Mapi and Alexia were like your sisters, but neither of them were… great with emotions. Ingrid was a sensitive person, as were you, and you’d talked to her about a lot more in your life than anyone else. The minute she spoke, the minute you saw her looking at you through the screen, you were choking back tears. You wanted a hug from her, absolutely desperately, all of a sudden. Ingrid, though, was in Norway. The international break didn’t seem to care what it took from you, you thought sarcastically. 

“Hey.” You said finally, clearing your throat in a way that accidentally told both girls you were upset. 

“Oh, honey.” Ingrid sighed, her eyes flitting over you through the camera, lingering on your wounds, before flicking nervously to Mapi. “María caught me up. How are you doing?” 

“I’m okay.” You lied. 

“Yeah you seem okay.” Mapi grumbled, shrugging when her girlfriend shot her a look. 

“No one expects you to be okay. I know you don’t want to talk, but just remember that I’m here whenever you need me okay? I’ll be back soon, and until then, María’s got you, yeah?” You nodded, but shifted somewhat uncomfortably. “No, I know what you think. María wouldn’t have offered to let you stay if she didn’t really want you there. I know she seems like she’s allergic to feelings sometimes, but she gives really good hugs.” Ingrid reminded you, bringing a slight smile to your face. 

“Really, nena, I want you here. I’m so bored without Ingrid, I called her 5 times yesterday. Tell her, amor.” 

“It’s true. One of the times she only put Bagheera on the screen, and pretended to be the cat for a full 15 minutes.” Ingrid laughed. 

Mapi blushed heavily when you sent her a smirk. “Amor, that was private.” She grumbled. 

“I know.” Ingrid said gleefully. 

“Well, when I walked in the house, Mapi greeted me as Bagheera, and for some reason the cat speaks bad English and has a thick accent.” You commented, a real smile stretching across your face. There really was no better way to cheer you up than to tease Mapi. 

“Fine. Bagheera won’t speak to EITHER of you anymore.” Mapi grunted, crossing her arms and pointedly looking away from the camera. 

You and Ingrid laughed, and Mapi pouted even more. It took a lot of stifled laughs and ridiculous compliments before she turned back towards the phone, although the teasing didn’t end there. 

It was a short phone call, only 20 minutes, but it did wonders in getting your mind off of everything, and by the time Ingrid had to hang up, you were grinning at Mapi, and she was smiling back at you. It didn’t take long for reality to hit again, though, and Mapi watched as your face fell, and you took a deep, shuddering breath. 

“It’s all gonna be okay, nena. I promise.” Mapi murmured, pulling you into her side. You wanted to believe her, more than anything. You feared that this problem, though, wasn’t something she or Alexia could solve. 

------

It was pure chance that Mapi caught you when she did. She’d twisted her knee a bit in the sheets, and a jolt of pain had roused her. Her clock told her that it was the middle of the night, and she was content to go back to sleep, when she heard noise coming from where you were supposed to be sleeping in the guest room. Something in her told her to check on you, and she quickly got out of bed and headed down the hall. 

You were wide awake, fully dressed in running shorts and a shirt, hurriedly throwing your hair up into a ponytail when Mapi walked in. You were still crying, hands still shaking from the nightmare you’d had, and Mapi approached you like a wild animal, her steps slow and measured. 

“Hey, nena?” She said softly. Your head snapped up, and when your eyes met hers, Mapi suppressed a shudder at how absolutely terrified you looked. “What is going on?” 

“Gonna go for a run.” You said in a monotone, reaching for your shoes to slip them on. Mapi got there first, though, pulling them away before you could reach them, and guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“It’s the middle of the night and you have a concussion, you cannot run right now.” She said firmly. 

“Mapi, I can’t,” you whispered, very suddenly seeming to come back into yourself, hands reaching out to grip tightly onto Mapi’s top. 

“Hey, shh.” She soothed, pulling you into a tight hug. “Did you have a nightmare?” 

“Yeah.” You mumbled, whole body trembling against your teammates. 

“What happened in it?” She asked casually, clearly giving you the option of ignoring the question. 

You answered before you could convince yourself not to. “Barça hired that one recovery guy the national team fired. He came here. Everyone liked him, and no one would listen to me. No one believed me when I told them what he was like when he was with us, before.” 

It was vague, and yet Mapi got the gist. She understood, and it made every cell within her flame with rage. 

“That would never happen. We would never hire him, or anyone that treated you wrong. Never. And we will believe whatever you decide to tell us.” Mapi assured you sitting down on the edge of the bed next to you, and taking your hand. 

“Will it ever stop?” You asked after a minute. 

“Will what ever stop?” 

“This feeling. I’m scared all the time. I don’t feel safe anymore, and nothing I do is ever enough, Mapi. They ruined me. I don’t think I can fix it.” 

It was a horrible thing to hear, something that made Mapi understandably sad. But what really broke her was that she’d had all the same thoughts before. She didn’t really remember how she survived them. Ingrid, she supposed. You didn’t have an Ingrid, not like she did, but you had her, and you had the team. You weren’t alone, no matter how it felt. 

“It stops. It takes some time, but you will feel okay again. You will feel safe again. Whatever you give is enough, pequeña, I promise you that. You are not ruined, just a little broken right now, yes? And maybe you cannot fix it by yourself, but you do not have to. You have every single one of us, and we are not going to stop until you are okay again.” 

You couldn’t put into words how much that meant, how much comfort that brought you. You would have tattooed the statement into your skin at that moment, if you could. Just so you could read the words over and over again. Stop blaming yourself, stop hating yourself. For the moment, though, you settled on leaning against Mapi, and running through the words in your head, over and over. Over and over. 

-------

Mapi kept herself together until you fell asleep, and until she made it out of the guest room. Her phone was in her hand the second she was walking back into her own room though, instantly beginning to pace as she pressed call, and hoped to god that Ingrid had left her ringer on, no matter how selfish it was. 

“Ing?” Mapi asked softly, as soon as the phone was picked up. She almost never called Ingrid that, only when she was really upset, so her girlfriend was instantly on high alert, despite the late hour. 

“Hey, baby. What’s wrong?” 

All Mapi could do was try to stifle her cries in response. 

“María, my love, tell me what’s happening.” Ingrid pressed, starting to pace in her hotel room. 

“I was talking to-to pequeña, and it just-just reminded me of everything, and I do not know why I am crying, I just can’t, Ingrid, I can’t, I can’t.” 

Ingrid forced herself to remain calm, knowing that panicking wouldn’t help her girlfriend at all. 

“María, sit down.” She instructed, hearing some shuffling and assuming Mapi had done as she asked. “Where are you right now?” It was a familiar routine that Ingrid began taking Mapi through, but it worked all the same. She asked Mapi question after question, knowing just how to bring her girl back to her. Where she was, what she was wearing. What lights were on in the room. What she’d had for dinner. Mapi told her that Bagheera was sitting next to her, watching closely, and that you were safely asleep in the room next door. Eventually, when Mapi was calm, Ingrid told her exactly what she needed to hear. 

“She’s got you, love. She’s safe, and you’re safe. You’re not going to let anything happen to pequeña, and I am not going to let anything happen to you. I promise you, María, anyone who wants to hurt either of you is going to have to go through me first.”

Mapi let her girlfriend’s words sink in. “Jeg elsker deg,” she said finally, and Ingrid smiled to herself at Mapi’s use of Norwegian. 

“Te amo, cariño.” Ingrid whispered back. “Go to sleep. Take care of nena. I’ll be home before you know it.”

And if Ingrid would always protect Mapi, then Mapi would always protect you. 

-------

The next day was better, though that was a low bar. The few remaining team members not away on international duty didn’t have training, and your teammates decided their tactic for the day was to keep you inside, keep an eye on your concussion, and distract you. Mapi and Alexia kept you busy watching nations league matches, and playing fifa. Mapi showed you a few sketches she was working on for a new tattoo for Alexia, and Alexia put on her guilty pleasure show, which was, amusingly, below deck. You wouldn’t have picked your captain as one for reality TV, but that assumption was clearly wrong.

They did limit your screen time, though, and they made you take a nap. It was during this nap that you got a phone call. From a reporter.

From the same reporter who had written the article. 

He wanted to talk to you about the conditions you’d endured with the national team. What it had been like after the first article had come out, and why you left camp early with a mysterious injury. He wanted to know everything. And he wanted your name on it. Anonymous witnesses could be ignored. Named ones could not, he said. 

You hung up pretty quickly, informing him that you needed some time to think. It was a testament to how much you trusted both Mapi and Alexia that you walked back into the living room right after, and told them about the phone call. 

They were careful not to tell you what they thought you should do, though you were pretty sure they didn’t agree with each other. Instead, they stuck to a neutral message. 

“You need to decide what to do, pequeña, for you and not for anyone else.” 

“Ale is right. Your healing needs to be your priority, and you need to figure out how this interview would fit into that.” 

You could talk. The team would know exactly who it was. Your teammates and your coaches. Everyone from that team that you hated and everyone that you loved. You could tell the truth. You could be brave. You weren’t sure you could survive the shit storm that would follow, though. You were barely surviving now. Maybe, though, your survival wasn’t the priority. Maybe the wellbeing of your teammates was. 

You could be selfless, or selfish. Put yourself first. Treat yourself the way your teammates were convinced you deserved to be treated. You could forfeit your wellbeing for that of your teammates, practically invite a media invasion into your life. You could do the objective right thing, or you could do the right thing for yourself. 

You could be selfless or selfish. You weren’t sure which option was better. You weren’t sure which option wouldn’t suffocate you. 

--------

hehe. 

theres a lot of ways i could take a part 3. do you even want a part 3? do you have ideas? let me know :)

[overly-distressed-mouse]

Okay I'm now home from watching the Barbie movie, so I have to bestow some knowledge upon you fuckers (aka me infodumping actual Barbie lore because there were a lot of references there).

So, first and foremost, in one scene, we see "Earring Ken" and "Growing up Skipper" (very short scene, don't worry if you missed it). But these were actual Barbie dolls released by Mattel way back whenever (See pictures below)

So, "Earring Ken" was actually "Earring Magic Ken". His whole thing was Mattel wanted to be cool and hip with the kids or whatever, so they created him. Except their idea of going out and finding inspiration and information as to what was "hip with the kids", was gay bars. And raves. As you can imagine, Earring Magic Ken did not stay on shelves too long (about 6 months) (though he did sell actually really well and I believe is still one of their most sold despite only being available for such a short time). I'm pretty sure his necklace charm could be swapped out too and also worn as actual earrings. HOWEVER, the part about Earring Magic Ken that kills me, is that because they went to gay bars, not only did they give him a mesh shirt and shit (as seen above), but the charm on his necklace? Is a cock ring. Did Mattel realize this? Probably the fuck not, but that's what it was💕

Growing up Skipper was also an actual doll, and just like in the movie, if you twisted her arm, she grew boobs. She also grew like an inch taller or something. I'm pretty sure she also was not on the shelf long, but she was introduced in the 1970s. So that's fun

Next up, Midge and Allan (who both play slightly bigger roles in the film but here's pictures anyways)

So Midge was Barbie's best friend, and was released specifically because Mattel found themselves faced with high demand for a pregnant Barbie doll. But of course, Barbie can never get married or be pregnant or have kids, because it ages her, and obviously seeming a little older means Barbie is suddenly worthless and unappealing (Woo patriarchy!). So their solution was Midge, who, ironically, ended up being everything Barbie couldn't (which is kind of funny since she's supposed to be able to be any and everything ever). So, them making her only personality trait in the movie her pregnancy, is kind of spot on. She did have actual dolls initially but then seemed to disappear for a while, having been replaced with other "Barbie's best friend!"'s. Actually they also replaced Barbie's siblings several times but that's another post. Midge did eventually return though in Life in the Dreamhouse (See below)

One thing they never mentioned in the movie, however, is that Allan was actually Midge's boyfriend. I don't have too much on him besides that but I think it's worth mentioning.

Anywho, there's my rant on some of the characters in the Barbie movie, if you made it this far, thanks :))

[ferrstappen]

what happens with the kids? l Max Verstappen x reader

a/n: *sigh* I'm so done with this season bc I just know we'll be getting the same podium every other career and my tifosi dreams are just crumbling... also can we please just talk about that driver introduction like?????

anyway, this is based on this request I got the other day! thank you for requesting and sorry it takes me so long write the requests, but uni is kicking my ass <3

genre: angst oop

pairing: Max Verstappen x female reader. Lando Norris x reader but not serious.

warnings: divorce, kids, not proofread.

summary: Max really didn't have to find a girlfriend that soon after the divorce, and the fact that his girlfriend had a daughter of her own, didn't really help your case.

It's safe to say you never really saw it coming. or maybe you did, but tried to ignore it as Mila and Luca had just celebrated their third birthday, with the second half of the season looming over your household, Max said the the words you never thought you'd hear.

I think we need some time apart to figure out some stuff.

At first you didn't really process it. Why would you possible need time apart? The twins were so young, you needed all the help you could get and things were good.

That's what you thought.

He said it was hard to continue your marriage if you couldn't keep him company or support him the way you used to, before having kids. Maybe he was oblivious to the disbelief showing on your features, trying to comprehend if he really needed to be reminded of your two young children, who had strict hours. You didn't feel the need to remind him that just three weeks ago Mila had to go to the emergency room for an allergic reaction, and a week before that, Luca was questioning you about why his dad wasn't around as much.

Max rubbed his left hand on the nape of his neck, obviously trying to ignore this part of the conversation, seeing as you eyes became teary and your eyes tried to find his blue ones, but he avoided them at all costs.

Then, it was time to bring the kids to a race, Austria to be specific. It was strange to walk without him on the so familiar space, holding Luca and Mila's hands, making your way to the Red Bull hospitality where Max was supposedly waiting for his family.

During the walk, you were greeted by most people from every team; engineers fist bumping the twins, Lando and Max Fewtrell giving you a side hug before trying to talk with Luca and Mila. Yet, when you reached your finishing point, Christian Horner's eyes opened widely, like his mind was trying to process something.

The Red Bull team principal was clearly distressed as he walked towards the three of you, greeting you as usual, but offering to take the twins for a quick tour, telling you there was a new snack bar the engineers had created and they should get to know it.

It didn't take long to realize the brit knew something you didn't.

A feeling you couldn't explain sank on your stomach. Your cheeks were already flushed, palms turned sweaty and suddenly your subconscious was trying to convince yourself that it couldn't be that bad, whatever it was. The world shook and your vision slowed down when you noticed a gorgeous black-haired woman, leaning against your husband as he laughed at something she said.

Your trembling legs managed to silently take a step back, trying to hold back the tears as you left the room, watching as Christian was still entertaining the twins, following you as the kids noticed you.

"Christian, can you please call Max to tell him we're here?" Somehow, with some divine strength, you were able to get the words out, ignoring Christian's glare as if he was trying to ask if you were okay.

In a matter of seconds, Max had joined you, receiving Mila and Luca with open arms. He wasn't aware of the fact that you already knew the reason he wanted a time off wasn't because he didn't get to see you, or that you couldn't make the effort to travel with the kids.

No.

Just as Christian had suggested, the kids went with him as Max directed your way to a secluded space. He didn't know what he was expecting, but it sure wasn't "I want a divorce"

He blinked. Once. Twice. "What do you mean you want a divorce?"

A snicker left your lips, was he trying to play dumb? You knew Max Verstappen as the palm of your hand. You knew him better than yourself.

You didn't need to see him kissing the black-haired woman, or holding hands, or even touching her.

Max's eyes, your husband's eyes, expressed everything you needed to know.

It wasn't important that he berated you for dropping this news right before Red Bull's home race, that his eyes tried to find yours but were unable to, as your crossed your arms as if that would protect you from the heartbreak and sudden change of plans; from a happy couple, a merry marriage and joyous family, to a life of weekends separated, of preparing their bags on Friday night, of being civil for the sake of the twins during their birthday...

And because you knew him so well, the relief that flashed through his blue eyes didn't pass unnoticed by you, because it wasn't him who said the words. He was guilty, but he didn't take the shot.

Your girlfriends always joked about his friends always were the first ones to reach out after a break up, making you laugh until text messages and Instagram DMs started rolling in: Red Bull engineers and mechanics, Lando Norris, Martin Garrix, among others.

Hey! I heard about you and Max, just wondering if you are okay and want to meet up some time?

It didn't take long to accept one of their offers, having messy nights with a British driver and multiple people from the paddock, but it was never meant to be more. and it absolutely wasn't, but it was early Sunday when the concierge called to inform the arrival of Max and the twins. Of course you didn't hear, Lando's body pressed against you as his soft snores invaded the bed you once shared with Max.

and obviously, Max being as restless as always, decided to just take the direct elevator to the penthouse overlooking Monte-Carlo. That's what made Lando open his eyes, very widely, as you hastily walked him towards the walk-in closet so that he could get dressed and not be seen or heard by Max.

Not that it mattered, but you were capable of putting family peace in front o making your ex-husband jealous.

"Hello my sweets!" Mila and Luca made their way into your arms, not caring about their backpacks making things a bit uncomfortable. "Did you have a good weekend?"

Luca started blabbering about papa's new place, the dishes Max's girlfriend cooked for them, and the incredible time they both had with Sara, the daughter of Max's girlfriend. There obviously was a bond between the three children, both arguing about how Sara liked them more than the other.

Max hadn't had the time to greet you or ask about your weekend, his gaze fixing on an orange hat.

"Since when do you own McLaren merch?" Max questioned you, pointing the foreign object, the logo being unusual on the household.

Ignoring how your heart skipped a beat, feigning ignorance your body turned to where Max's finger was pointing. "Oh, I don't know? I think someone gave it to me at one of the races. Long time ago, though."

That's when both Max and you noticed the twins were gone, probably on their bedroom unpacking or searching the kitchen.

Max took a couple of breaths, his eyebrows scrunched and eyes trying to find yours, not even attempting to hide his feelings. "Are you hooking up with someone from McLaren, (Y/N)?"

Your eyes widened, then took a step back trying to see if you heard him right. "Why would you even ask me that?"

Max shrugged; "I have a right to know, in case they end up sharing time with M and Luca. I can't control how everything works during the week so I'd like to be kept in the loop."

This time it struck like lightning, the fury and anger and disillusion your heart was carrying. "You have no right, Max. Absolutely no fucking right to be kept in the loop about what goes on in my life,"

Max didn't flinch at your tone, "I didn't say about your life, I'm aware that we are divorced, I'm talking about Mila and Luca,”

"I always think of them, they're the first thing on my mind when I wake up, and the last thing when I go to sleep. They're always on my mind and never leave, and I would never do anything to hurt them or even cause them the tiniest bit of disappointment. You have no right to come here and tell me you want to know about what goes on in here, because you are the one who chose to leave us in the first place," You vented, with Max's blue eyes fixed on you he was trying to keep his composure, but you knew he was uncomfortable.

"We are not having this conversation now, (Y/N). It's over, now it's just about the kids," Max added with a slight roll of his eyes.

"When are we having this conversation, then? When are you going to tell me that you wanted to separate because there was someone else already? that I wasn't enough for you? not even our kids were enough to make you doubt your decision to leave me, and it feels terrible and I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to feel the same because I'm shattered, Max." The words felt like someone was ripping your heart out of your chest, leaving you vulnerable as the thoughts became real, they were out there, but then it was followed by a bittersweet relief of not holding back anymore.

He noticed the tears and hiccups as you tried to make the point. His eyelids trembled as his hands meant to reach out to yours, pull your body to his, squeeze your waist and kiss your hair while assuring everything was going to be just fine.

That was the moment he realized that wasn't his place anymore, probably would never be again. Max didn't even think about that while signing the divorce papers, he didn't bother to show up to anything, sending a lawyer to do whatever was needed, and now it was hitting him like a ton of bricks.

His realization was cut short as the kids came running, Luca placing the McLaren hat on his head, ignoring Mila's voice telling him it wasn't daddy's team.

"I think this is when you leave, Max,"

You managed to keep your voice from quavering and erasing every trace of a tear, telling the kids to say goodbye to Max.

Yeah, this wasn't what Max had in mind for his Sunday morning.

[sailoryooons]

I am going to say something that has really been bothering me that not everyone may agree with, which is totally okay, everyone is entirely valid to disagree with me: There is a fast fashion problem in fandom, specifically fanfiction.

Disclaimer: This conversation is not about broadly writing the same tropes, genres, and ideas. I am not talking about people writing fics with similar themes or the same name. I am specifically talking about people writing fics that are very obviously heavily influenced by other fics. This is not me talking about: I wrote __ character as enemies to lovers vampires and so did this person so they stole. Please do not trivialize this conversation with instances that are very obviously not what I'm talking about.

As someone who exists in the fanfiction space, I want to express what I have seen specifically in this space in my own experience, my mutuals experiences, and random experiences I have seen on my dash.

Recently, it seems like there is a reoccurring theme of writers (often new writers) taking "inspiration" from fanfics that they love and value and essentially creating their own version of that story to the point it is bordering on plagiarism. I say bordering on plagiarism because while people may not be copying line for line or entire scenes in order, you can tell that it is a re-arranged duplicate of another story.

I am not talking about writing similar tropes and dynamics. No one owns a trope or a dynamic. I am specifically talking about people taking the plots, scenes, concept and core of fanfics and recreating it and changing some plot elements or placing it in a different alternate universe and calling it their own, when at the heart of that fanfic, it is taken from someone else's creation.

This to me, reads like people who read a work, fall in love with it, but think 'this is easy to do, I can do this myself' and they end up making a replica of a fic that you can tell is a replica of another fic, despite adding some changes. Nine times out of ten, these inspired fics lack the obvious thought and heart the original writer put into it.

Which, begs the question: How is this different than fanfic writers taking inspiration from media (i.e. published books, movies, music, shows)? Because fanfiction is meant to replicate a specific something from published media. It is not meant to duplicate an already established fanfiction contribution.

I know that the nuance between that line is very ambiguous and it brings up the discourse on 'should there be fanfiction of fanfiction' - to which my response is it is, generally, pretty obvious what the difference between being inspired by a fic and copying a fic are.

In the last few months, I have lost count of how many times I or mutuals have a) discovered someone has been writing a story based off of their fic 2) have been asked to use an already written work to make their own or 3) already have started writing works modeled after an already written work and in hindsight asked the author if they could keep doing so (this third instance almost always happens after someone accuses them of stealing another work).

This feels like the fast fashion industry. Someone finds a story that is popular (whatever that means to the individual), takes all of the elements they think makes the story works, rearranges it, posts it as their own and and says they were 'inspired' (if they credit the original story at all).

This is why so many works that readers are coming across feel like they are the same thing. It is the same A + B + C = D over and over and over again, because people are outright just taking what they think works from other stories and using it.

Again - I am not talking about people who come across a trope, AU, genre or dynamic they like and add something similar to their story. I am talking about the people who are very intentionally and obviously writing the same exact fic with their own 'twist' (whatever that means).

Why is this a problem (beyond the fact that it's essentially roundabout plagiarism)? You're taking the heart, soul, and creativity someone poured into something and posting it on your own and robbing it of the originality, the essence, and the intention behind it. You cannot replicate a writer's feelings and obvious emotions that they have poured into the original work, and it shows. And it is gutting to the original authors who are finding remixes of their work across the fanfiction space.

Please consider whether or not you are inspired by a story or if you are redoing it in your own image. If you find yourself worried enough about your story that you feel like you have to publicly credit someone to avoid scrutiny, perhaps the question needs to be asked of whether you're just redoing what someone else already wrote.

Please do not confuse inspiration and recreation. 9 out of 10 authors will love that they inspired you to write, but would not love to find that you wrote a fic inspired by them that is a rearranged or hollowed-out version of the fic they wrote.

The fanfic space wants and needs more writers, but it does not need people unwilling to create their own art, instead taking bits and pieces from others and calling it a success.

Also adding: This problem also directly contributes to 'smaller' writers or more niche (often queer and bipoc) stories not getting the hype, readership, or recognition they deserve. On more than one occasion I've seen stories that had explicitly queer or bipoc characters taken and turned into heteronormative or white-presenting stories.

Note: This 1000% goes for actual visual art as well, including gifs etc. in fandom but I'm not well-versed there and thus, did not include it.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 13 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley sees Meredith again after so many months, he is filled with a range of emotions. He wonders if he has done enough for Noah on his own. His primary mission in life is to be the best dad, the one Noah deserves, and he has to be honest about how that is going to affect what he has going on with you.

Warnings: Angst, smut, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley was up early. He'd barely slept anyway, but that wasn't entirely Meredith's fault. He had been scrolling through all the photos of you that he had saved on his phone, and he even considered calling you well past midnight. 

He had a bad feeling. Meredith had never gone this far before. Last year and the year before, she had simply called Bradley, begging for an update about Noah around his birthday. And once he had sent her some updated photos, she briefly bugged him about custody, and then she had vanished again. But now he felt like he had made things so much worse by ignoring her calls for so long. 

"What the fuck," he muttered as he got dressed. Meredith had followed you and Noah to the damn park! He wanted to believe that she wouldn't intentionally do any actual harm, but she obviously spooked you. Since you had no idea what she looked like, your reaction had been to put Noah's safety first.

Every time Bradley thought about you protecting his child, he got a warm feeling in his chest. Simply thanking you wasn't enough; he wanted to hold you and Noah and spend hours explaining it to you. Then maybe he could understand this feeling better himself. 

But you got hurt in this mess that Bradley had helped create. And he needed to make it better if he could. 

There was a light knock at his front door, and he went to answer it as he zipped up his jeans. "Hi," Nat whispered, giving him a tight hug as he let her inside. "What time is she coming?" 

"I have no idea," he replied miserably, and Nat rubbed his back for a moment. When Bradley called her last night, she agreed to watch Noah while Meredith came by. He wanted to find out what Meredith wanted before he let her see Noah.

"Okay, well, I'm free all day. I'll take Noah with me back to my place, and you can just call me after Meredith fucks off."

Bradley nodded. 

"And if Meredith doesn't feel like fucking off," she added, "I'll make her."

Bradley couldn't help but grin down at her. "Thanks, Nat. I'll go wake him up."

Once he had played another round of musical car seats, Bradley waved as Nat pulled out of his driveway with Noah and a stack of coloring books in tow. Of course the coloring books were ones that you had brought over when you came to babysit or just spend time here, and now Bradley was itching to call you. 

Instead he messed around with his coffee maker and brewed a vanilla latte, just the way you liked it. He was still sipping it and thinking about how much he loved the way you looked in his house when another knock jarred him from his thoughts. 

He abandoned the coffee on his counter and went to the door once again. "Meredith," he said with no emotion as the tall blonde pushed past him and into his living room. 

"Bradley." Her expression was smug as she looked around; it had been years since she was here, and very little had changed. But Bradley did see her eyes catch on some of the artwork you and Noah had made for him which was hanging on the far wall. "Where's Noah?" 

"He's not here," Bradley replied, tucking his hands in his pockets.

She turned back to him and glared. She had always been beautiful but haughty. "I don't want to see you. I want to see him."

Bradley didn't waver. "You specifically told me on the phone that you wanted to talk to me in person. So let's talk."

"Fine," she said cooly, dropping down onto his couch. "But next time we set something like this up, I want him here too."

Bradley almost laughed in her face as he sat too. Next time? Over his dead body there would be a next time. Noah didn't know who his birth mother was, and Bradley wanted to keep it that way. Bradley grew up without a dad, but under very different circumstances. Meredith had a track record of being nonexistent, and Bradley didn't want that for his son.

"Where is he?" she asked, sharp eyes on him. 

Bradley sighed. "He's being well taken care of, Meredith."

"By your babysitter?" Then she said your first and last name, and Bradley felt a chill wash over his body. 

"How do you know her name?" he grunted, clenching and unclenching his fist in his lap.

"It wasn't hard to find out after I got her license plate number. She's a nursing student at the University of San Diego, Bradley. A mere child," she said, shaking her head sadly.

Bradley's heart was pounding. Meredith knew who you were, and she wanted something from him. "Did you scare my babysitter on purpose yesterday?"

Meredith laughed, head tipped back as she placed her hand over her heart. "Are you really going to keep calling her that, Bradley? She's obviously 'babysitting Noah' because you're messing around with her. Your little booty call. And she looks like she is all of eighteen years old."

"She's twenty four. And don't talk about her like that," Bradley replied through gritted teeth. "Don't."

Her eyes lit up. "So it is true. I was just making an assumption, going off a hunch. She's cute, so I'm not surprised at all. But I don't think they are going to take too kindly to a father who is busy fucking the babysitter. One who is basically half his age, at that. A father who is distracted. A trashy, young babysitter who is sleeping with someone over a decade older than her."

"Meredith," he growled, trying his hardest to stay calm, but he was seething now. 

"And you let that trash around our son, Bradley. A glorified slut, making money and getting laid while she's at it. And that's not even taking into account that you're still in the Navy. You leave Noah with random friends of yours every time you're deployed, none of whom are his legal guardian. None of them can make decisions in an emergency. You lack any and all stability." She was completely calm as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and sighed. "No, they will not like that at all."

"What the fuck are you getting at, Meredith?" And then Bradley noticed for the first time that she brought a fancy looking leather bag with her, out of which she procured a manila folder.

"This should spell everything out nicely for you." She handed it to him, and he opened it and skimmed through a stack of papers. His heart rate grew steadily faster until it was getting hard to breathe. It felt just like the first time he hit 8 G's. He was going to throw up. Bradley could feel the bile rising in his stomach as the panic truly set in. His insides clenched as he looked at her.

"You want custody."

"Full custody, yes. I have a lawyer. A good one."

He closed the folder and tried to hand it back to her, but she pulled her hands away and stood. "You can keep that," she said with a smirk. "I made several copies."

Bradley stood as well, and got in her face. "No judge in this entire state is going to award you custody of Noah. Not after the shit you've pulled."

She shrugged and headed for the door. "Lucky for me, you've pulled your own shit. We'll just have to wait and see who sounds more believable."

His heart was thudding, and his ears were ringing. "You abandoned us, Meredith! You haven't paid a single penny for anything in nearly four years, and Noah doesn't even know who the fuck you are!"

As she turned the knob, she looked back at him and said, "Abandonment is a strong word, and you can't prove anything. And may I suggest you learn to keep your emotions in check? It will be good practice for the courtroom. And you need to keep that girl you're sleeping with away from our son. I won't hesitate to ruin her if I need to. You already forced me to go through her once, Bradley. I'll do it again with no remorse if I have to. Noah is my son. Just because that girl is fucking you, that doesn't give her the same rights I have."

"Do I need to get a restraining order, Meredith?" he called, but she was already walking out to her car with a little wave over her shoulder. 

"Not if you want me to allow you to have visitation rights. Oh, and make sure you answer my calls next time, so we can prevent another visit at the park!"

-------------------------------

You were laying on your back porch in the sun, trying to finish reading your assignments for the following week. Every hour or so, your phone went off, but it was never from the only person you wanted to hear from. It was just a bunch of texts from Greyson, begging you to come over. He must be bored. It was probably too early in the day for him to get stoned, and you knew he was too lazy to look for another girl for the night. That was why he was bothering you now. 

You squinted and turned your head away from the sunlight and thought about your ruined sunglasses, crunched up in the parking lot next to the playground. Bradley said he was going to call Meredith. You were so embarrassed; you actually ran away from Noah's mom. Surely she wasn't going to hurt either of you. She probably just wanted to see him, even if she did sound like a bitch when Bradley described her. But she was pretty. And probably just the right age for Bradley. Now you had a very clear image in your mind of exactly what he was trying to replicate when he was using the dating app.

You had a gross feeling in your stomach. You hated waiting like this. You were always waiting for everyone else. First you waited for Greyson to contact you whenever he wanted to see you. More recently you'd been waiting for Bradley to let you know where you stood with him.

When you decided you were hungry, you stood and went to your kitchen. You tore open a bag of Skittles as you looked through your refrigerator, but after you ate a handful, you left the rest on the counter and walked away. 

When your phone rang late in the afternoon, you answered it as soon as you saw who it was. 

"Bradley?" you asked softly, and you were met with a beat of heavy silence that made you want to cry.

"Hi. Any chance you can stop by later? Just for a minute?"

"Yeah," you replied, pacing the length of your small living room before curling up on your couch. "I can do that."

"I'll see you later."

-------------------------------

Nat kept Noah at her place for most of the day while Bradley had a good, old fashioned nervous breakdown. His best friend was good like that, and he didn't even have to give her any details yet. She just knew what to do without any prompting. 

Bradley sat in the middle of Noah's bedroom floor and thought about everything he could lose if this didn't work out for him. He had a dresser full of Noah's little clothes behind him, and a closet full of Noah's toys next to him. He paid for everything for his child. And not that Noah was a burden on him in any way, but they never got any help from Meredith, monetarily or otherwise. But he could see how it would be impossible to prove she abandoned the two of them. And it probably didn't help that he never returned her phone calls or let her see him when she begged in the past.

She was a business developer. She made more money than Bradley. But he never went after her for a cent, because he knew he would rather have his son to himself than have to share Noah with someone who didn't really care about him.

So why the fuck did Meredith want to be involved now? It didn't make sense. And Bradley hated that he thought the worst of her at this moment, but he did. He just knew there had to be something he was missing here. 

He laid back on the floor and fiddled with his phone, forcing himself to stop from calling you. He rubbed one large hand along his face and let out a sting of curse words. The fact that he wasn't sure if he would be able to protect his own son was making him anxious and scared. But he could protect you. He could save your name from being dragged through the mud. He could prevent you from potentially spending your time in a courtroom, from becoming collateral damage to Bradley's crime of falling for Meredith and getting her pregnant in the first place. 

And Bradley knew he had to protect you, because he wasn't worth it. Getting messed up with him was not worth your time and aggravation. He just wished he had pumped the brakes a little harder, told you this was a bad idea and shut it down earlier. He should have never let it get physical. All the flirtation and banter should have been enough for him. He should have taken it for the ego boost that it could have been and moved on, pursued a woman from the dating app and stayed away from you. 

It was already too late for him though. Because he knew how you tasted. He knew all the little noises you made when you were underneath him. He knew how good you looked in his clothes. He knew how much Noah loved you. And he fucking knew you loved his kid right back.

And now all of his baggage was coming back to haunt him. 

"Fuck!" Bradley shouted. And then he scrolled through his phone until he found Tracy's number. It was a Saturday, and he hated to do this on the weekend, but what choice did he have? 

"Hello?" 

"Tracy? It's Bradley Bradshaw. I'm not sure if you remember me, and I'm sorry it's Saturday-"

"Bradley. Of course I remember you. And your sweet son. Noah, was it?"

"Yeah," he replied, running his hand over his eyes. He had taken Noah with him last year when Nat urged him to talk to a lawyer about setting up a will. They had also touched on the topic of a custody agreement, which Bradley had firmly told Tracy was something that wasn't necessary at the time. 

"What can I do for you?"

"Do you remember our conversation about custody and parental rights for Noah?"

"Yes, I remember."

He sighed deeply. "I think I need to revisit that conversation."

----------------------------

You changed into a cute sundress and packed up the three remaining coloring books and the pack of neon crayons you had for Noah. You added a bag of Skittles to your tote, and then you headed out to your car as tears prickled your eyes. 

Your arm hurt a lot more today, and changing the bandages with your left hand had been challenging. You considered taking your first aid kit along with you and asking Bradley for help. But then you decided that getting over there and getting this over with was more important. 

He must have spoken to Meredith by now, and while you weren't sure exactly what that meant for you, there was no doubt it wasn't good. 

You parked in his driveway alongside his Bronco, and let yourself in the front door. It was late. Noah was probably in bed already. That was probably why Bradley asked you to come now. 

"Hi," you whispered. He was sitting in the middle of the couch with his elbows resting on his knees, and he looked impossibly handsome as he glanced up at you. 

"Hi," he echoed, his voice deep and raspy. You thought that maybe he wanted to add Princess to that greeting by the way his lips were silently working, but then he snapped his mouth shut. 

You wanted to go sit in his lap. It was the only thing that would make you feel better right now, but you knew you shouldn't do it. And as you took a few steps closer to him, he stood, and you could feel the heat from his big body. 

"Are you okay?" you asked softly. He leaned a little closer to you, like he wanted to kiss you. His hands were reaching for your hips, but you watched him clench them into fists and drop them to his sides. 

"I think I will be," he replied, and you couldn't stand it any longer. You reached for his face, stroking his mustache as his eyes closed. And then you kissed him. And he kissed you back. Right before he took a staggering step away from you.

------------------------------

The only thing Bradley wanted to do was get lost in your kisses and beg for you. He wished he could forget about everything that had happened after he fucked you at your place and left for work yesterday. Pretend Meredith wasn't a threat. But he couldn't keep pretending. That much was made clear when he spoke to his lawyer earlier.

After he stepped away from you, he cleared his throat and said, "We can't do this anymore."

You laughed humorlessly as you ran your fingers along your glossy lips. "Can't do what anymore, Bradley? What exactly have we been doing?"

"Messing around," he replied, keeping his eyes on your face. It was so much more than that though, and he felt like the biggest asshole in the world for trying to make you think he felt any differently. For trying to make you think he didn't care about you. "It was fun, but I need to take things seriously. For myself and for Noah."

You pressed your lips together and looked at the floor. "Did you and Meredith get back together?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper. 

The thought of it made him sick. It made him feel outraged to even think about Meredith at all, let alone romantically. But if that's where your mind went, then so be it. 

"We talked about it."

You gasped, but you didn't look at him. "You told me she abandoned you. And you think that would be best for Noah? Best for you?"

"I'm... not sure," he replied, wanting more than anything to collect you in his arms and take care of you. Kiss you. Be with you. But he couldn't protect you and do those things right now. Not after his conversation with Meredith, and especially not after speaking to Tracy. "But sometimes people change."

"You sound unsure," you said, looking up at him hopefully as tears collected in your eyes. "Why won't you give me a good reason? A solid reason?"

Bradley ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath, using his anger to hold back his own tears. "I can give you a whole list of reasons. Is that what you want?" You didn't respond verbally, but the quiver of your lips made him keep going. "You're too young for me. I need a woman more mature than you. Someone who would help me take care of Noah. Someone I could be in a real fifty/fifty relationship with. And not just with Skittles."

You sobbed, and he hated himself. But he kept going.

"You think you want this, but you don't. You're just a kid. You don't know what you want. But I can guarantee that me and all my baggage isn't it."

"I never said you had baggage-"

But he cut you off, shaking his head and saying, "I said it. So it doesn't matter what you did or didn't say. This is not going to work. I don't want this."

You had tears dripping onto your cheeks now as you looked up at him. Your pretty face was scrunched up in sadness or rage. Probably both. Because he was behaving like a dick. 

Your shoulders shook while you cried. "Fine. I understand," you said through your tears. "I can't make you want me back."

He felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs, because you were the only thing he wanted right now. He had let himself indulge in his feelings for you, and now he was hurting you on purpose. And it was killing him.

"Can I say goodbye to Noah?" you whispered, swiping at your tears.

Bradley nodded, stumbling behind you as you walked quickly to Noah's room. He stood in the doorway and watched you gently brush Noah's hair away from his forehead as you sobbed. Then you bent to kiss his cheek and whispered, "I love you, Noah."

Bradley couldn't take it. He turned away and walked back to the living room. He broke his own heart, which he could eventually probably handle, because the outcome he wanted was important to him. He could come to terms with keeping you away from him. He knew you'd be better off without him in the long run anyway.

But he hadn't anticipated how much this was going to hurt his son. Maybe he had made a mistake.

When you walked back into the living room with your tote bag on your shoulder, you slapped Bradley's house key against his chest without looking at him. He fumbled and caught it before it dropped, but when he turned toward you, all he saw was the swirl of your dress as the door slammed shut behind you. 

Bradley stood with the key in his hand, inhaling the smell of wildflowers as he listened to your car pull out of his driveway. 

"Goodbye, Princess."

-----------------------------

Bradley, what did you do?! Hope you enjoy your babysitter fic which you help me write, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 14

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

[fatphobiabusters]

"I don't believe that fat people deserve basic human needs like love, food, or clothes. I think fat people are automatically ugly because I grew up only seeing thin people treated as beautiful in media and society. Because fat people aren't fuckable to me, I tell them to kill themselves and call them ob*se pigs. Which reminds me, the term the medical field uses for fat people, I actually treat it as a slur. I also treat the word 'fat,' the most basic term for a specific human body type, as a taboo insult that you should never, ever call someone. Unless you want to call them ugly or worthless, which I treat 'fat' as a synonym for. I give fat disabled people judging looks because how dare any fat people be disabled. I think fat people should be forced to pay more taxes and to park as far away from a building as possible to force these fat asses to walk. There's countless insulting euphemisms for fat people: fat ass, lard ass, butter ball, diabetty. Oh, that reminds me! I also believe I know the medical records of all fat people and use that to call the over 2 billion fat people on this Earth the dirt underneath my feet. I associate different diseases with fat people, who I hate, so I also put stigma on those diseases. I think it's okay for fat people to pay extra for clothing despite me being a size medium and not having to pay more than people who wear a size extra small. I mock fat people for dancing, walking, running, eating, exercising, swimming, existing, and even breathing! Literally! I laugh when a fat person breathes heavy for even a single second after they walk up a flight of stairs! I support and buy all of the diet culture products that make money off of fat people being viewed as scum. I once saw a fat person on the news talking about how she was enduring food insecurity, and I laughed for a full minute because obviously that fat woman is nothing but the stereotypes I support about fat people and actually overeats. I secretly have a thing for fat women, but I would never dare actually date a fat woman or be with a fat woman in public. That's why I fuck her in private and then pretend she doesn't exist. Whenever I create a character and want to make people know that the character is bad in some way, I make the character fat. I help bully fat people whenever I can. I not only make jokes when fat people die, I also assume every fat person died because they're fat and tell random fat strangers on the internet that they're going to die at age 35. I freely harass fat people because I know not a single person on this Earth will defend them from me, not even progressive people. But no, fat people definitely aren't oppressed. Stop kidding."

How every fatphobic asshole sounds when they tell me fat people aren't oppressed.

-Mod Worthy

[cupidlovesastro]

𝟷𝟶 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚢

1. sign ≠ house- the reason this is, is because they both have their own characteristics and also represent different meanings. the signs represent more of a personality and the houses represent aspects of your life. they correspond but they aren’t the same thing. this is because when you think about it, aries has qualities such as leadership and impulsivity, but the 1st house doesn’t represent those things. therefore they’re not the same thing. when you see post that say aries/ 1st house, it’s usually because they try to add aspects of both placements

2. there’s multiple kinds of astrology- most people that live in america follow western astrology, but there’s vedic astrology which is said to be the most accurate, chinese astrology, medical astrology, and more. they are all different but also similar and some ways

3. there’s multiple charts in astrology- this is one of my favorite parts about astrology but it can also get confusing lol. there’s your natal chart, which everyone knows about, but then there’s persona charts, transit charts, progressive charts, draconic charts and more. then synastry and composite charts which takes 2 people’s birth information to create

4. asteroids- you don’t have to only learn about planets, you can learn about asteroids too. asteroids usually fall between 2 planets, which somewhat helps form a personality for them. not all of them though, some of them are in the outskirts of our solar system and some have meanings that don’t necessarily relate to the planet it’s closest to

5. there’s thousands of asteroids- there’s so many asteroids out there, that have been discovered with in depth meanings, some that have been discovered with no clear meaning, and obviously some that still aren’t discovered. that’s why there’s so many different elements to your chart, and so many different things can dictate your personality in a natal chart

6. greek mythology and astrology- greek mythology and astrology have a lot of points where they correlate. especially with asteroids, if you read into greek mythology, you will start to understand why certain asteroids and placements mean the things they do

7. cusp- if you believe in degrees in astrology, then you don’t believe in cusp. cusp basically means when you were born “between” 2 signs. so people born on may 20th or 21st could say they’re a taurus/gemini cusp, but that’s not true if you believe in degrees. degrees can go from 0 to 29

8. no such thing as a bad placement- no placement is bad, some are just harder to deal with than others and that’s okay. it doesn’t mean parts of you or bad or that your cursed for the rest of your life. everyone has rough edges, you just have to smooth them out if that makes sense lol

9. astrology and tarot- some major arcana cards actually represent the zodiac signs. not all of them but about half of them do. like gemini is the lovers, aquarius is the star, libra is judgement, and so on

10. empty houses- technically no house is empty because like i mentioned earlier, there’s thousands of asteroids out there, and all of them fall in a house. but as for your natal chart, having an empty house doesn’t mean anything negative, it just means that’s an aspect of yourself you don’t really need to focus on or pay attention to, or nothing is really going to happen in those areas of life. if you have an empty 4th house it can mean that nothing significant or out of the ordinary or specific is going to happen to your family or children. i hope that made sense 💀

[jeremywhitley]

Here we are, six weeks later...

HEY!

So, in case you haven’t heard, our six week run on Love Unlimited following Gwenpool wrapped up today and...

and as much as I did write all of this and it is extremely important to me, I feel I really need to make sure you all know that this didn’t start with me.

To be completely accurate, it started with Chris Hastings and crew for creating such an amazing and nuanced character out of what could have only ever been a high concept and a cover gag. Not that the cover gag wasn’t good, but the statue that is revealed from that piece of marble over the course of The Unbelievable Gwenpool is truly astonishing.

Then, of course, there’s you. An audience of fans with an incredible love and passion for a character who also saw a lot of the quirks and experiences that we as people on the asexual spectrum experience and talked about it online.

Which is where the incredible @alannawrites, my editor, comes in. Alanna had been looking for an opportunity to tell a story about being ace in Marvel comics. We had kind of skimmed around the edges during Unstoppable Wasp, but ultimately being a character who owed so much to a movie franchise, there were a lot of nerves there. Gwen was not only a great opportunity to tell a story of a person hyper aware that they are in a story struggling with the tropes that affect their actual life, it was a chance to bring about this story for a character a lot of the fandom already saw as ace. Obviously, not everybody, but still a lot.

So when editorial game to okay to tell this story, Alanna reached out to me - somebody she’d worked with but also specifically had just had their own little coming out as demisexual a little while back. I was thrilled by the idea and before long we brought on @bailiesartblog and Kelly and had a full creative team of people on the ace spectrum. This is easily the first time that’s ever been a thought.

For me it was important that it not just be a story of coming out, but that it be a Gwenpool story. A story of knowing how stories work, what tropes you can play with, trying to direct the story where you think it should go, and ultimately finding that the story just won’t comply. And for people who have experienced being on the ace spectrum or a lot of other marginalized genders and sexualities - that’s a very familiar problem.

Ultimately, it’s different from a lot of other Gwenpool stories because it’s not the world around her. She has 2-3 real working possibilities for romantic relationships in this story and one that is about to become a fully adult sexual relationship with a woman whom she really loves before it skips the tracks. Ultimately, it’s not a thing from the 616 that’s holding her back, it’s a thing she brought with her from the real world - her sexuality - and no matter how worthy you are, you can’t beat that with a hammer.

There’ll be lots of time to talk about this later, but along with her actually saying the words and waving the flags above, one of the sequences that’s most important to me is the opening sequence of issue 6

This is the problem sometimes with being story tellers. When you think you know the story, realizing you’re not who you thought you are can feel like maybe you’re a villain. Maybe you’re a monster. Maybe you don’t belong here.

Some people on the internet seem to have decided to misinterpret this sequence as us comparing being asexual to being a monster, when very clearly that’s Gwen doing it. I’m just going to assume they’ve never had the experience of struggling to understand themselves and where they fit. Sounds fake, but whatever.

I love this FF story. I love Ben Grimm. I love this cover and that was why I gave my art team the truly unenviable task of recreating it. Like, I don’t know if you’ve been there, but I certainly have and I’d wager that most of us have at some point.

But perhaps the most important image in this scene is the next one:

Julie sees her friend, her girlfriend, the person that she cares about spiraling and literally yoinks her right out of the frame.

And sits her down and talks to her about it. And listens to her about it. And when she starts asking questions that Julie can’t answer, she finds Gwen somebody who can.

And that is an incredible gift to give to someone. And yeah, maybe we should all do that for each other, but man is it hard. Julie for one is in a multi-month relationship with this girl that just told her that not only was she lying about being ready to have sex with her, but that she didn’t actually like kissing her and has been faking enjoying some aspects of their relationship. You wanna think you would still be there for this person, but that’s a lot to handle and it takes a lot to be the person Julie is in this moment. But, personally, I love Julie Power and I think she’s the kinda person to stick with it.

And ultimately I think this scene is so important to me because I hope this book is our opportunity to be Julie Power to somebody reading this story. I hope someone who is going through a hard time or struggling with how to define themselves will find this story and it can be the hands that pull them out of the cover of Fantastic Four 51 when they need it. Maybe that’s a lot to hope for a comic, but it’s really the ambition I think the team went into this comic with. We want to tell a story about an aroace character coming to terms with who they are and learning to accept and be comfortable with it, but ultimately we hope this story gets to someone out there when they need it and makes the difference.

Well, this has gone really long and I’m sure there will be other things I wanna say about it later, but until then take care of yourselves and hopefully you’ll get the chance to be someone’s Julie Power.

P.S. - Julie, you’re amazing and I’m sure we will find a romance for you that works out eventually. Sorry that we’ve collectively now put you through three breakups.

[fatkish]

I found this post you made and idk how old it is but it was about writing stories to heal inner child to give readers someone who stepped up for them as a kid since they didn’t have someone… idk if ur still taking requests for that, but if you are, any chance you could write smthing related to saving a kid from sex trafficking? Specifically where it was perpetuated by the parents if that makes sense?? Idk. I want Aizawa to come get me outta there lol(I’m okay now). Maybe he was undercover or smthing for a bigger operation and came in contact with.. that. Thanks for reading my whole request ^^;;

Aizawa x SA Victim Child Reader

TRIGGER WARNING: please be aware that the following content contains allusions to rape, the sexual exploitation and abuse of minors as well as unwanted sexual advances. Please be warned

Aizawa goes undercover disguised as a potential buyer for an illegal quirk boosting drug that the reader’s parents are selling and finds readers parents offering reader to buyers as well.

Reader is 12 and still hasn’t developed a quirk yet. They are a late bloomer and their parents decided that their kid needed to ‘help out the family’ since they haven’t developed a quirk

Reader is forced to take lessons on ‘dancing’ in order to entertain the clients. The reader’s parents have made them believe that they are not worth saving and that heroes will treat them like a villain because what they’re doing is wrong and because their parents are ‘evil’

Aizawa was back in his underground days and came upon the house acting as a corrupt hero. He had found an actual corrupt hero who used the drugs and knew about the kid. Aizawa followed the hero and was talking to the parents when they offered the reader to him.

Aizawa, not believing this, actually went to the room and paid the parents before going in alone.

The reader’s parents don’t really care how long people are along with the reader, as long as they pay them good money. The father’s quirk allows him to distort electrical circuits and signals rendering any device that investigators might use to capture evidence of their deeds, to be useless.

Once alone with the reader, Aizawa was revolted by the way the reader was sexualized by their own parents. He talked to the reader and it took some convincing but he eventually gave the reader a phone that they could use to gather evidence from the inside.

After Aizawa left, because there wasn’t anything he could do at that exact moment that wouldn’t make things worse for the reader, he informed the police as well as the other heroes he was working with about the situation and within the next three days, they had all the information they needed in order to get a search warrant and arrest the parents

Aizawa was the one who was in charge of the kid. It was during the raid that the reader’s quirk finally manifested.

Their quirk allows them to build up and store massive amounts of electrical energy and basically turn their body into electrical energy as well as manipulate it. The reader can travel through electrical circuits like landline phones and computers. They can create a force field of electrical energy that fries anything within it as well as control electricity and shape it.

The reader was being ‘used’ by a rather violent man who was being far rougher than anyone had ever been before. It was during all the stress and anxiety that the reader finally had enough. When Aizawa busted the door down he saw the man had been electrocuted to death and had electrical burns all over him.

Aizawa realizes the severity of the situation and instead of using his quirk he decided to have the reader try to control their ability themselves. Aizawa gently removed his goggles and slowly approached the hyperventilating child. He gently talked to them, speaking in a soft voice, he told them that it was over. That their parents have been arrested and that they will never have to deal with this kind of treatment ever again.

The reader obviously wasn’t comfortable with touching others and Aizawa understood that. Aizawa had given the reader the space they needed and made sure to always be within the reader’s sight and also made sure that anyone who had to be near the reader, followed the reader’s directions.

If they didn’t want to be touched, Aizawa made sure they wouldn’t be. If the reader was uncomfortable, Aizawa made sure that whatever was causing it was dealt with. For the first time ever, the reader actually saw and believed that someone was willing to protect them and after a few months the reader was finally comfortable with sleeping in the same room as Aizawa.

The doctors and nurses were worried about the reader since they refused to be touched and would use their quirk to defend themselves. It was only after Aizawa was able to gain the reader’s trust that the doctors had Aizawa be their proxy and do the tests needed. With every test that Aizawa had to do, he would explain in detail what he would be doing, why he was doing it and made sure that the reader felt comfortable and safe, making sure that they understood that they had to give consent before anything would be done.

Eventually a therapist and counselor where provided to the reader to help them deal with the trauma from their experiences. The reader wouldn’t really talk to anyone besides Aizawa

Seeing this the courts as well as the reader’s doctors suggested that Aizawa become the reader’s legal guardian

Aizawa adopted the reader and had Hizashi introduce himself to the reader. After that, the two of them decided to take the reader shopping since this was more of Hizashi’s area of expertise rather than Aizawa’s. They bought clothes for the reader, toys, books, electronics, snacks, toiletries, bedding, furniture, etc.

Once they got to Aizawa’s house, they helped the reader get everything inside and showed the reader their own rood with an attached bathroom. The reader even had a lock on their door that they could control from their side. Aizawa even helped the reader instal one of those chain locks on their door

It took a lot of time but eventually the reader began to trust Hizashi too. Eventually one day the reader had fallen asleep on the couch next to Aizawa. Aizawa was so touched and smiled softly. He made himself, as well as the reader, a promise, he would do whatever it took to keep them safe and make sure that they were happy and felt loved and cared for

(I hope this helps you and that you enjoyed this. I hope that your inner child finds some peace with this and that this helps them heal.)

[angelr-fish]

NPMD characters if they were in percy jackson cabins?

I do this thing where I always end up crossing over my hyperfixations so I NEEDED to do this.

Peter Spankoffski - Child of Athena

Peter is quite obviously a nerd, and while he doesn't come up with many strategies, he does have a some qualities in common with other children of Athena. (he is also the only one to notice that the building was not structurally sound)

Ruth Fleming - Child of Dionysus

Ruth loves theater, so much so that she'll do anything to be around it even though she cant be on stage. he is also the god of fertility which kinda fits yeah

Richard Lipschitz - Child of Hecate

now this one is kind of a stretch, I had a very hard time placing Richie somewhere. I landed on this one because Hecate is the goddess of "magic, witchcraft, the moon, graves, ghosts, necromancy, and sorcery." now while that is a mouthful most of those is what led me to this in the first place. magic and sorcery? that is some anime shit and Richie loves anime shit. now graves, ghosts, and necromancy that one was more of a stretch for me, I mostly chose it because he dies first. yes very big leap. in this little universe I've created for myself there could be a tie to this as to why Richie is the one who interacts with max first idk I'm rambling here.

Stephanie Lauter - Child of Jupiter

we are bringing in the roman gods now. Steph is a child of Jupiter because there is no way she isn't a child of the Big 3. I chose Jupiter specifically because she is often seen leading the group and if i were to chose a character she was similar to it would probably be Thalia. as for the roman thing well its just another way for max to forbid Pete from liking her cause of the camp rivalry. This is quite ironic in the same way it is in the show because....

Grace Chasity - Child of Janus (Huntress of Artemis)

yep grace is also a roman kid, kind of like how she's the exception of being a nerd in the show. I chose Janus specifically because he's the god of "beginnings, gates, transitions, duality, doorways, passages, and endings." Grace is the catalyst to the entire show, she unintentionally causes a lot of the issues that happen so I thought that slightly fit the doorways and passages part cause she kind of leads them through this maze. Grace has A LOT of duality to her. she is a nerdy prude through and through and yet, she does so many things like touching herself and lying to the police! next, she causes the ending of Max Jagerman's life as well as the end of his afterlife so that part fits. as for gates, she just talks about the gates of hell so much and I thought it was kind of funny. being a huntress is kind of self-explanatory though. I mean being abstinent and immortal? sign this girl up!

Max Jagerman - Child of Ares

I really don't even think I need to explain this one. 1. Competitive, its in a Ares kids blood to be competitive, lets be so real right now. 2. Daddy Issues, Every Ares kid has them, I mean why wouldn't they? they are all constantly competing with there siblings for just an ounce of his attention or approval and it just fits in my eyes 3. Bloodlust? have you seen this guy? he killed like 4 people! 4. Fuck Clivesdale

okay that's all I have of the main characters, but I might work on some of the others. or maybe even just Hatchetfield characters in general

[beesfairlyland]

ᵀᴿʸᴵᴺᴳ ᶠᴼᴿ ʸᴱᴬᴿˢ ᴮᵁᵀ ˢᵀᴵᴸᴸ ᴰᴵᴰᴺ'ᵀ ᴴᴬⱽᴱ ʸᴼᵁᴿ ᴹᴬᴺᴵᶠᴱˢᵀᴬᵀᴵᴼᴺˢ!!?

HELLO MUNCHKINS!!💗✨

So today I wanted to talk about manifestation taking so long. You must have gotten tired of trying again and again and still not seeing any movement in the 3d. Soo, today let's fix this problem!!

Firstly let's talk about what is manifesting...ik ik you all know what it is but let's go back to basics coz y'all need to put an end to your overconsumption and the habit of overcomplicating the law!!

Lesss gooo!!

What is manifesting?(Imo tho)

Manifesting refers to the process of bringing your desired reality into existence through the power of your thoughts and beliefs. It suggests that our assumptions about the world shape our reality. By assuming or believing that something is already true or already exists, we can attract it into our lives. The key is to focus on what you want, rather than what you don't want, and to believe that it is already a part of your reality.

Okay let's take my example:

Few weeks ago me and my best friend got into a fight and he said some really harsh and rude things to me. Obviously i cried at that moment but after few mins when i took all my emotions out. I said to myself No I don't choose this it's my Reality and i wiped my tears and said with authority he's gonna call me and apologize to me for everything he said and i didn't doubt it didn't give any second thought. I swearr within few mins he called me back and apologized to me i wasn't shocked coz i knew it's gonna happen.

See it's this simple! You just have to decide what you want and have full faith in it. Let's talk about how to do that!

How to manifest?

There's no hard and fast rule to manifest. It's your reality you choose what you want and how you want. But let's just talk about the basics you modify them accordingly.

Clarify your desires:- Take some time to reflect on what you truly want in life. Be specific and clear about your desires. You can't Manifest if you yourself don't know what you want.

Believe it's already true:- Once you have clarified your desires, assume that they are already true. Believe that they are a part of your reality, even if they don't appear to be yet and boom you've Manifested your desires. Ik for some of you it sounds to good to be true. But I'll try my best to make you believe it.

Okayy you see this ice berg right? What if i tell you that the exposed part is the only thing you know about i.e. the 3d that concious mind shows you and the rest hidden part is where the surprise lies! i.e. the 4d Reality which our subconscious mind creates.

Soo now you tell me whom you want to believe huh? The 10% of the concious mind or the 90% that our subconscious baby creates. Ohhh you still in lil bit of doubt😕 don't worry i got yaa!

This stoopid concious mind who thinks it knows everything relies heavily on the senses but our senses are not always correct! Have you ever seen something that appeared to be one thing, triggering a response and then you realise that you were wrong?

Such as seeing a snake and realising it was just a rope? Or thought someone was standing behind you only to Realise that it was just a jacket hanging? There are soo many examples of this!

"Okayy soo Bee what's the conclusion?"

The conclusion is these senses trick you, they try to fool you and want you to believe only them even when you know that 4d, your imagination is the only TRUE REALITY you still get tricked by them. Soo now whenever your senses disapprove something that you see in your imagination, deny them. Remind them you have seen it, you have it!

Now you might see yourself in mirror and say "but I don't see my desired appearance."

But i would say "noo baby you already have that beautiful appearance and look soo gorgeous idk what you taking about huh?😒"

Now ig I've made you understand how to believe that it's already yours ....and still you don't completely believe it all.

TEST IT ALL OUT FOR YOURSELF COZ ONLY YOU CAN MAKE YOURSELF BELIEVE 100% IN THE LAW!!

Whenever you have any doubt just say to it for what you've came huh? I already have it all don't try to fool me again! Ik this journey is not all sweet and smooth but trust me it makes you learn soo many interesting and new things. Don't be discouraged if you don't see it yet....may be have a look inside yourself and ask are you being completely honest with yourself? If you get the ans as a Yes then congratulations you are on the right path! But if you get your ans as No then sit down take a deep breath and comfort yourself and have some self talk... DON'T BE HARSH WITH YOURSELF AFTERALL IT'S ONLY YOU WHO'S GONNA WITH WITH YOU TILL THE END OF YOUR BEAUTIFUL JOURNEY!!

Hope I could explain y'all lil bit!🫶🏻

-Love, Bee💗✨

[hero-israel]

So I've seen a lot of talk from people who allow that Israel was justified to attack Gaza after October 7th, but they feel that Israel still attacked too indiscriminately, killed too many Palestinians, and destroyed too much of Gaza. Two particular hangups I've seen most commonly are the idea that Israel should have done a "tactical counter-terrorism" action rather than a ground invasion, and a specific objection to Israel dropping 2000 pound bombs on Gaza specifically. I don't feel that I know enough about military tactics, so I don't know how legitimate it would have been for Israel to go into Gaza "tactically" or to drop smaller bombs, but I suspect Hamas would be a lot stronger than it is currently, and the same people would still be tut-tutting Israel's actions (if not calling them out with equal outrage). It's very frustrating

Everyone wants a better alternative but nobody describes what it is. Reminds me of the recent post about the Houthis - "don't bomb them, you need to find a way to get rid of the Red Sea embargo that only kills the badguys and nobody else." Okay, I'll just ask the genie of the lamp to magic them away. There are no options for going into Gaza that aren't utterly horrible. Hamas knows this, it was the whole point of their trap, and it is working.

Here's a fair-minded, moving essay by a Gazan Palestinian saying Israel needs "targeted, low-intensity, long-term operation[s] that could sustainably reduce Hamas’ military capabilities and create conditions to introduce a new administration in Gaza," and also admitting "tunnel warfare is dirty, complicated, costly and requires lengthy efforts and campaigns, not the short and swift operations upon which Israel’s military doctrine is built."

IOW, "go in and kill Hamas and destroy everything they have - but don't kill anybody else. Find a way to do it slower and smaller and neater, but still make sure you win."

It doesn't work that way. The tunnels are obviously boobytrapped, how are you supposed to order men in? The problem isn't expense, the problem is failure. Also a slow, prolonged ground campaign would require a lasting re-occupation, another lose-lose. Israel has purportedly been using the 2,000 pound bombs as bunker-busters to collapse the tunnels - maybe that's working, but it also kills the hell out of people on the surface, again part of the trap. I am disappointed that the IDF hadn't spent every waking hour the last decade building some technical gizmo that could make the tunnels uninhabitable, some kind of seismic or ultrasonic whatzit. I said a while back that I was in favor of flooding the tunnels and fixing the environmental consequences later. I've got messages in my inbox now urging me not to take that stance, that Israel should not be seen as "salting the earth," but it doesn't matter since it seems Israel isn't actually doing it, for whatever reason, so there's no point in a Tumblr blog taking a stance either way.

Tom Friedman is another useless Boomer leftover from the '90s and his "philosophy-of-cab-drivers" shtick is laughable, but he actually raised a good point here:

Netanyahu, I would argue, doesn’t want to win. He wants to be winning, OK, that is, he wants to be able to say, we’re winning. We’re winning. We’re winning. It’s just around the corner. But he doesn’t want to actually win because, if the war actually ends, two things are going to happen. Then he can no longer avoid what is the new political end state. And I believe there will be an eruption, a massive eruption, of Israeli anger at him that I hope and pray will drive him from power because I believe he is not only the worst leader in Israel’s history. I believe he’s the worst leader in Jewish history.

And that’s a long history. And what is Netanyahu’s calculation? It’s very simple. If he is not in power and has to face the conclusion of his trial and three corruption charges without the protection and influence that comes over the judiciary from being in power, he has a very good chance of going to jail. People forget. Israel jailed a president and a former prime minister. They’re not afraid to do that. And he does not want to go to jail. And he does not want to give up power.

And so this is a terrible situation where Israel is in a existential war, and its prime minister has basically dual loyalties, one to the state and one to himself. And at every turn, he is prioritizing himself.

I wish I could totally rule out the possibility that Netanyahu is going to try to drag this out until Trump's inauguration next year. I can't.

[irisintheafterglow]

hear me out....Hawks hcs with a significant other who has a Chemist/Potion quirk. Like im talking a buncha potion bottles and glasses of little remedies they've made and have yet to test 🙏. Kei would occasionally find her notebook on the counter or table, the notebook being filled with ideas of new mixes or something specifically for healing for Keigo when he comes home injured

Also love your work! Some of the best things I've read have come from your page

good chemistry (pun intended)

cw/tags: fem!reader, established relationship, pet names (my girl, love, baby)

note: YASS YOU ARE COOKING and so is reader!! please excuse any chemistry misrepresentations i got a 2 on the ap chem exam LMAOO. thank you for the love, i hope you enjoy this!!!! been a hot minute since i wrote for keigo and i missed him :))

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

"you've got a visitor."

you startle when your coworker's head peeks into your lab, carefully setting down the beakers of volatilely combustible liquids on the black counter of the bench. she tilts her head to the side, urgently commanding you to check out whatever was making her so concerned. slipping off your gloves and sliding your goggles up on your forehead, you thank her as she opens the door and your jaw hits the floor. talking to an obviously starstruck receptionist was your boyfriend, still in his flight jacket and sunglasses and causing the biggest scene you've witnessed in the office since all might accidentally set off the sprinkler system. golden eyes flick over to you in the doorway and his mouth breaks out into a dazzling smile, one that has your coworker clutching the back of a chair for support.

"there's my girl," he murmurs, embracing you with strong, open arms and a chaste peck on your forehead, right under your goggles. you can feel the jealous eyes of the entire staff, but all keigo only pays attention to you. "you look beautiful today, birdie."

"you're saying that because i have goggle marks on my face, kei," you remark, unfazed, and he shrugs in defeat. red feathers sprinkle onto the floor and you make a note to remind him to recall them before he leaves.

"eh, worth a shot. you're unfortunately immune to my charm, now. just means i have to come up with some new lines." you scoff despite your racing heartbeat. with his stupid superhuman senses, he definitely knew exactly what he was doing to you.

"shouldn't you be on patrol?"

"i am, but i wanted to see you and bask in your radiance," he grins boyishly, running his tongue over a sharp tooth. despite every cell in your body wanting to drag him into the nearest supply closet and kiss him until you're breathless, you're still skeptical about the unexpected visit. his voice drops to a low, private octave that sends goosebumps up your arms. "also, i think you left a certain notebook on the kitchen table." your eyebrows blast off into the ceiling, panic overtaking you as you whirl your head toward your lab where you thought your formula book was.

"oh my god, did someone take-"

"no, baby. you're okay," he reassures you and the notebook magically appears from the depths of his jacket pockets. "i'm glad i picked it up before i left this morning," he chuckles. for good measure, you flip through the worn pages to verify that every experiment was, in fact, still there. exhaling a deep sigh of relief, you meet his gentle gaze with a thankful smile. the pages were worth more to you than any sum of money, since it held all the formulas for the antidotes and counteragents you made for keigo when he was injured.

you'd created it after he asked, between colorful strings of expletives, why getting patched up hurt more than the actual injury. being the loving partner you are, you decided to do something about it. your quirk allowed you to visualize all possible outcomes for a chemical reaction depending on the quantities of reactants and lab conditions. it ensured that every experiment you instigated would be successful, as long as you followed the conditions in your head down to the air temperature of the lab. your recordings in the notebook started as a simple antiseptic that didn't have the sting of store-bought bottles, one that could douse a wound without so much as a flinch from the injured patient. now, you were part of an independent company that created first aid products for heroes to use and distribute during rescues. and, it was all thanks to the oversized chicken-man that slept in your bed.

"whatcha workin' on right now?"

"some stronger eyedrops for eraserhead," you reply, taking his gloved hand and guiding him into your lab. he delicately picks up a few beakers, inspecting their color through the bottom of the glass like a kid in a soda shop.

"like the stuff you put in my eyes when-"

"when you got hit by that smoke quirk, mhmm," you hum, milling about in front of the shelf of chemicals. "if i figure this out, it'll also help when your eyes get dry from flying."

"you mean, when you figure this out," he reminds you, turning you to face him and pulling you close by your hips. he leans into your hand when you card your fingers through his wind-mussed hair, melting against your touch. "there's nothing in this world that you can't do."

"you're a really sappy guy, you know that?"

"i know it, as much as i know that you're never getting rid of me."

"you promise?"

"as long as the birds still fly, baby."

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