#Because I really want to make these for people to buy

[skipper1331]

We listen and we don’t judge // Alexia Putellas

a/n: short one

It was all over your foryou page - the 'we listen and we don’t judge' trend. So obviously you had to do it with your girlfriend.

After you had explained the rules to the Barcelona captain, you sat down next to each other at the dining table, your phone recording.

"Hello guys!" you greeted, Alexia greeting in her mother tongue, "today we‘re doing the we listen and don’t judge trend" you explained once again how it works for those who didn‘t know, "and I’m very excited how this turns out" you laughed, grinning at Alexia who held your hand underneath the table.

"Do you want to start, amor?" she asked.

"Yes okay." you thought about it for a moment before you came up with one, "we listen and we don‘t judge"

"Sometimes when you leave the house for training i eat the chocolate bars you get from the physio and when you ask where they are i tell you that you probably ate them already"

Ale chuckled before she answered, "amor, i buy them in the store. I know you like them. Since I’m injury free the physio doesn’t buy them anymore. It was a treat for every step of recovery"

"What? You didn‘t tell me that" you huffed, playfully.

"Yes because you always look so cute with the guilty mischief glint in your eyes when you tell me I ate them"

"Hey!-"

"We listen-" she cut you off, encouraging you to join the end of her sentence "and we don‘t judge" you said in unison.

"Sí, um, sometimes when I look through the newest football footage and you‘re nearby I make sure that you only see the best of me and my skills, so you’re impressed by me." she admitted with a shy smile, tracing patterns of the back of your hand.

leaning over to whisper in her ear, "I’m always impressed by you, don’t worry" before you said, "we listen and we don‘t judge"

"When we‘re going out and I ask if I should drive, I always hope that you say no because I don’t want to drive, I’d rather be the passenger princess with the privileges than the driver."

Alexia looked at you - indeed you often asked if she was sure that she wanted drive and that it wouldn’t be a problem if you sat behind the steering wheel but Alexia always had a feeling. Besides she loved driving you around.

"We listen and we don’t judge"

"When I’m in the supermarket and you ask me to buy something for you and it isn’t on the paper list, I forget about it most of the time. And when you ask where it is and i suddenly remember it, i tell you that the store didn‘t have it" she innocently smiled at you, the judgmental expression on your face obvious.

"Te amo, eh?"

"We listen and we don't judge" you replied.

"When we watch a movie I pretend to fall asleep, so you would carry me to bed"

"You cheeky girl" the midfielder kissed your cheek before her arm went around your shoulder, pulling you a bit closer.

"We listen and we don‘t judge"

"If you try to cook my mother's food, I tell you every time that it tastes delicious, even if sometimes it doesn't taste that good" she said, quickly adding, "because I really appreciate the effort" smiling.

"Yeah, that‘s fair. Your mum is an amazing cook"

With that being said, you continued little game for a bit before you said your good byes to the camera.

"I thought you‘d admit worse things" you said, smiling at the catalan, happy that her statements were harmless. You had seen many horrific statements on the internet which left you shocked and wondering how these people stay in their relationship.

"Why would I, amor? I like being with you and I wouldn’t ever judge you" she said with heart eyes. The girl so in love with you.

And truth to her words, there‘s never been any occasion where she had judged you. She trusted you in everything and besides, mistakes happen too, so why would she judge that? Nobody was perfect, she wasn’t perfect, neither were you. Even though she truly believed that you were the closest thing to perfection.

"Te amo mucho"

[heyysteven]

I love, I love, I love

Summary: Some Husband!salesman headcannons

Warnings: Brief mentions of death and Fluff :))

Husband!salesman who just loves to be the little spoon, he absolutely loves the feeling of resting his head on your chest as you caress his hair talking about the details of your day. He didn't mind being the big spoon either. He just loves any reason to be wrapped around you really.

Husband!salesman who could hear you talk for the rest of his hours. Tell him about the book you just finished reading, tell him about the new recipe you wanted to try, tell him about new gossip at work. He would listen patiently and ask questions wherever he got confused.

Husband!salesman who texted you every two hours. Did you reach your office safely? I’m eating the sandwich you packed! Did you have your lunch? Any updates on the new gossip? Will reach home in twenty minutes;)) Do you want anything from the grocery store? Got you donuts just in case.

Husband!salesman who would take pictures of every sunset, every animal, every flower and send them to you because they reminded him of you and how you would have taken pictures if you were with him.

Husband!salesman who would buy you a huge bouquet of flowers before every date night, conveying different messages using the language of flowers. Last time he got home one full of red tulips and sunflowers (because his passion for you ran murderously deep silly!).

Husband!salesman who planned every date night down to the minute. He would book the reservations for that cuisine you once mentioned you wanted to try. He would whistle as soon as you step out the room in your evening dress, twirl you by your hand and ask for the n’th time how he got so lucky (would definitely be disappointed if you wore something without back zips). He would always be the perfect gentleman for you; right from driving you, opening the doors, pulling your chairs, all you had to do was shut your brain and enjoy the evening.

Husband!salesman who always tried matching his tie to the color of your dress.

Husband!salesman who loved holding hands more than life itself. He would love feeling the cold metal of your wedding ring every time you locked your fingers. He would walk around with the most proud smile ever on his face, softly swinging your intertwined fingers with each step.

Husband!salesman who could never say no to you. He was born with a lot of impressive abilities and strategic skills. Murdering someone with a fork? Easy! Selling people the idea of getting rich by playing a bunch of game? A piece of cake! Saying no to his wife? What is that? Shouldn’t it be punishable by law?

Husband!salesman who couldn’t cook to save his life. He somehow ended up burning everything he put on stove, so he just stuck to cleaning instead. It was a silent agreement, you would make the breakfast and dinners and he would wash and dust while you cooked. On days he ran late, he loved being welcomed by the aroma of the dish you were making. It made him feel like that this was the reason he was alive.

Husband!salesman who still got flustered when you kiss his cheek. It had quickly become your power move. On the rare occasion where you disagreed upon something, you would simply kiss his cheek and watch him fumble with his words. It was the most adorable thing ever.

Husband!salesman who would kiss and bite your neck every chance he got. He loved the fact that he could attack your neck any time he wanted.

Husband!salesman who loved when you asked him to pick you up after work. He waited for the moment you would come running and jump to hug him tight.

Husband!salesman who always noticed every single detail. Like the time he caught a man making you uncomfortable while walking. He did exactly what the man deserved; beat him till his teeth were bloody and carved his fingers out from their socket,  for ever daring to make his wife feel unsafe.

Husband!salesman who got jealous easily. He didn’t ask for much, he just wanted every single person with conspicuous intentions towards you to just get hit by a truck on the highway (with him driving the truck preferably).

Husband!salesman who always made sure to support your hobbies! Even if you abandon them after two weeks, he’s proud of you for trying.

Husband!salesman who hated your plushies and teddy bears. He hated how much distance they created between you while sleeping. He would just throw them to the floor when you weren’t looking.

Husband!salesman who doesn’t like getting his shirt bloody because “My wife chose that for me, its rude of you to bleed on my clothes.”

Husband!salesman who says I love you like it’s the air he needs for breathing. He would find every reason to squeeze your hands thrice.

[cosmic-spoons]

One time back when I was trying to convince myself that I could still date people, my bf at the time asked to go grocery shopping with me. He lived about 40 min away and I could not FATHOM why he wanted to drive that long and waste that much time and gas just to do what I considered a stressful chore. It was already a drag, and him being there to distract me would def make it take longer than it needed to be. I couldn't imagine having any kind of meaningful conversation or fun well I blue-screened staring at a box of cereal for 5 minutes before ultimately deciding not to buy it. What could he possibly get out of that? I asked him why he wanted to be there, and he said "because we're dating?" like it should have been obvious. It was in that moment that I realized allo people really do want to share nearly every waking moment with each other, that's not a hyperbole or a joke. I could never drive 40 minutes just to grocery shop with him, it already takes a Monumental amount of effort to get me to the store that's 5 minutes away. I didn't want to waste his time.

Oh...but it's not a waste of time for him, is it? There's a missing component of the equation here that I'm completely blind to. So blind, in fact, that he broke up with me over it. I was trying to be considerate like with all of my other friends, but apparently being considerate is actually rude in romance sometimes. Absolutely fascinating.

this is really weird but part of my aroace experience is viewing allo people like a scientist would view a living specimen in an experiment

its like. they do something and i observe and note their behavior. i know this sounds super fucked up but here is something that happened today:

my sister was showing me her texts from her boyfriend and he was saying stuff like "if u want i can spray a shirt with my cologne to give to u" or "i'll give u my hoodie to wear"

and i just looked at her and said "people exchange clothes because they like each others scent? fascinating." and i felt like a freaking scientist observing a new species' behavior. i promise its not as weird as it sounds. im not uncomfortable with romance/sex (for other people), i just have no idea how it works.

im curious do any other aspecs have experiences like this? or is it just me?

[munsonsmixtapes]

hello! if you have the time could you please write soft Eddie guiding a shy reader when they make out for the first time?

There's a knock on Eddie's door and he hurries to answer it, hoping it's who he thinks it is. He isn't expecting anyone else, but it's not uncommon for people to show up looking to buy from him, but he really hopes it's you. He's been looking forward to tonight for over a week since you suggested it. He opens the door and there you are, beautiful as ever.

He steps aside and you plant a soft kiss on his cheek as you enter the trailer. You hold out a DVD and a few of Eddie's favorite snacks and he can't help but smile at how sweet you are. You've only been on a few dates and hopes he wouldn't scare you off if he proposed. Because if he's being honest, he can't see himself with anyone else.

No one he's dated has ever been so sweet to him. All they seemed to be interested in was using him for his body and rarely anything else. He wasn't really known as Eddie "the freak" Munson (well, maybe in other ways) anymore, but it still seemed like people didn't want anything else from him besides drugs or sex.

But you? All you seem to want from him is his company, genuinely interested in all of his fun facts that he has about random subjects and you even laugh at his jokes. And they aren't pity laughs either. You're a breath of fresh air and he hopes you'll stick around forever.

"You didn't have to do all this," he tells you with a smile as he takes the stuff from you. You're staring down at the floor and he can tell you're getting shy on him again. He doesn't mind, though. He thinks it's cute.

"Of course I did," you insist. "I wanted to treat you for once," you then smile and Eddie never gets tired of seeing it.

"Well I'm not going to say no to that," he responds then takes you by the hand, threading his fingers through yours. "Now c'mon."

You follow him over to the couch and the two of you sit together, but you make sure to leave a little space to be polite. You want to be cuddled up into his side, though. You want rest your head on his chest as his hand lazily runs up and down your back.

A lot of the people you've out with all seemed to be after one thing so it warms your heart that Eddie is willing to go at your pace. He always waits for you to initiate things like hugs or kisses and waits until you pull away, never asking for more. He's nothing but a gentleman and you really like spending time with him.

Eddie spreads out all of the movies you brought, his eyebrows quirking at the variety. You seem to have an eclectic taste and he admires that. He plucks the horror movie from the selection and heads over to the VCR. As soon as his back is turned, you begin to panic. You had only brought the movie to give you excuse to get close to him because of the scary scenes, but now you're beginning to regret your decision.

Eddie turns back to you and you try to hide your fear, debating on telling him that you'd rather watch something else, but you can't yourself to form the words. So you just sit in silence as Eddie moves back over to the couch, sitting even closer to you now and your fear takes over as you throw yourself into his arms.

Eddie lets out a laugh at your eagerness but he wraps his arms around you anyway, pulling you even closer to him as he turns his head towards the screen. You instantly feel better knowing that he'll keep you safe but can't help but think about what Steve told you when he rented the movie out to you.

He told you that it was the scariest movie he'd ever seen and that he couldn't sleep for days afterwards. And you rented it anyway even though he had suggested many more options that weren't nearly as scary and would still help you get into Eddie's arms despite how silly he thought the idea was.

The movie hasn't even started and you're already burying your head into his chest, gripping his shirt in your fists as tight as possible. His hand moves up to stroke the back of your head as he murmurs something to you that you can't quite hear.

"Hey, hey," he says as grabs hold of your face, forcing you to look him in the eye. His are nothing but soft as they look at you, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," you shake your head, suddenly feeling silly for how scared you just were. "It's nothing."

"We don't have to watch the movie," he tells you. "If you were scared, why didn't you say something?" It's a fair question, but you stay silent, not wanting to tell him the truth.

"I-" you start to say but cut yourself off, not wanting to admit the truth nor finding the right words to use.

"You what, honey?" He asks, his hands moving up and down your back exactly the way you wanted him to. Sometimes you're convinced he's a mind reader.

"I just wanted an excuse to cuddle you," you tell him, your voice so soft he almost didn't hear you. And at that, Eddie lets out a laugh before pulling you to his chest, giving you a tight squeeze. You have to remind yourself that he's not laughing at you, but because of you.

"You could have just cuddled me," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world and it is. Well, it should be, but you've always found it hard to voice what you want no matter how badly you want it.

"How about we call off the movie for now?" He asks and turns off the TV then pulls you closer to him, his hands still moving up and down your back. You look up at him as he licks his lips, now unable to think about anything but how inviting they look.

The two of you have kissed multiple times, but it's never gone any farther than little pecks here and there because you've been too afraid to do any more than that. But now you feel the need to go all the way, wondering what he tastes like, if his hair is as soft as it looks.

But you've never made out with anyone and that scares you. Even though you know for sure that Eddie would talk you through it, the whole thing still makes you feel nervous. But apparently not nervous to forget it completely because before you can stop yourself, you're looking up at Eddie, gulping before getting his attention.

"Eddie?" You ask and his head turns to you, those honey eyes boring into yours. You melt under his gaze but trying to muster up the confidence again.

"Hm?" He asks, that stupid smirk making its way upon his face, the same one that's always there when he looks at you.

"Can-" you cut yourself off for the second time tonight but Eddie just sits there, patient as ever as he waits for you to speak. He knows how hard it can get sometimes for you to speak your mind so he doesn't mind waiting for you to finish your thoughts. "Can I have a kiss?"

"Of course you can," he responds, taking your face in his hands and pecking your lips once, twice, three times before pulling away only for you to grumble in response.

"No," you shake your head. "I want a real kiss."

"Oh," he replies, wondering what made you decide on that, but wanting to oblige. He's willing to give you whatever you ask.

His hands move down to neck, his thumbs rubbing back and forth across your jaw as he leans in again, his lips slowly capturing yours as they move together slowly. He's nothing but gentle as he kisses you, showing you how it's done.

Your hands press against his chest and all you can think about how you can't believe you've gone so long without his lips attached to yours. They're nothing but soft and gentle and now you're sure that you can do this for hours.

Eddie breaks away before you're ready and you're breathing hard as you try to catch your breath. He stares down, a chuckle falling from his lips as he presses his forehead to yours.

"You're supposed breathe, baby," he tells you softly and you feel your cheeks heat.

"Can we try that again?" You ask as you pick up one of his curls, twirling it around your pointer finger, staring down at it as you speak again. "Do you think we could...make out? I promise to breathe this time."

"Oh, honey," he sighs before pressing a kiss to you lips. "I'd love to make out with you." Another and another until he's capturing your lips again, taking the lead again. You have no idea what you're doing but Eddie is being nothing but a sweetheart as he guides you through it.

He pulls away again and you whine this time at the absence of his lips, chasing him and getting in another quick kiss before you sit back, waiting for him.

"Do you want to sit in my lap?" He suggests. "I think that'll be more comfortable for you."

Eddie sits with his back against the couch and you do as he suggests and straddle his waist which feels foreign to you but he's right. It's much more comfortable. Your arms wrap around his neck as his rest on the small of your back, a good spot between your waist and upper back because this is just kissing and he doesn't want to give you the impression that he's going to go any farther.

"You kiss me now," he says and your heart races in your chest as you think about fucking it all up.

"Are you sure?" You ask, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling on it as you contemplate.

"Positive," he nods. "You've got this. Do whatever you want, baby. This is all about you."

"Okay," you nod, leaning forward and slotting your lips just like he did, Eddie immediately responding to you but he's moving at your pace instead of leading like he previously had.

You remember to breath through your nose as your fingers thread into his hair on each side of his head. His hair is normally off limits because people get too rough with it, but with you, he doesn't care. In fact, he loves when you play with his hair, a little bit of love sprinkles into every touch of it.

"You're doing so good, honey," he murmurs against your lips. "Do you want to try sticking your tongue in my mouth?"

"Please," you whine with a yank of his hair and if you can feel his cock hardening underneath you, you don't say anything. And thank god for that.

"Do you want me to show you first?"

"Yes," you breath against his lips and he's getting even more hard, knowing that he's going to have to get himself off later because there's no way he's going to expect you to go all the way right now.

Eddie captures your lips again as his hands rest against your waist, landing on the strip of skin where your shirt has ridden up. His lips are moving against you to warm you up and then he gingerly flicks his tongue against your bottom lip.

"Open up," he commands against your lips and you do as he says, opening up for him as he slides his tongue into your mouth. He swirls his tongue around yours and you mimic his actions, tugging on his hair as a moan falls from your lips at the feeling of his tongue moving with yours.

Your eyes widen and you can't help but pull away as you suddenly feel embarrassed at the sound you've just made. Eddie, though? Eddie's convinced that's the hottest thing he's ever heard and he really wants you to make it again.

"You don't have to be embarrassed," he says quickly, trying his best to assure you. "It was really hot, actually."

"It was?"

"Definitely," he nods. "Would it help if you made me moan too?" All you can do is nod and before he can say anything else, your lips are on his, only a few seconds passing before your tongue is flicking against his bottom lip. He opens up immediately and you mimic what he just showed you, your tongue swirling around his as you pulling on his hair even harder, a loud moan falling from his lips.

You haven't thought about it until now since you were so caught up in his kisses, but you're soaking wet between your legs and if you had more confidence, you'd ask Eddie to take care of you, but you don't so you don't. You don't think you're ready for that right now anyway.

You try to focus on the taste of him to get your mind off of it. He tastes like cigarettes that you know he smoked before you came over and you don't know why but you can't get enough of it. It's intoxicating.

You stay like that for a while until your lips are kiss bitten and your legs are asleep from you straddling him for too long. You both decide to call it a night and Eddie walks you to your car like the gentleman he is, kissing you one more time before you drive away. He then goes back inside and heads to his room where he collapses onto his bed, deciding that he's probably (definitely) in love with you.

[morlock-holmes]

So, people explaining that AI isn't "real art" bother me, not so much because of the answer they reach but because most of the people saying it isn't seem to romanticize not just commercial art production, but also bizarrely to romanticize AI as well, in ways that bother me for subtle reasons I want to try to articulate.

So, first of all, I personally don't think fine art will be changed much by AI.

"What if the artist isn't directly producing the art but instead letting some process create it?"

Convergence by Jackson Pollock, 1952

"What if the so called "artist" is merely rearranging and recontextualizing something that already exists?"

"What if the artist outsources a tremendous amount of work?"

Cambell's Soup Can, Andy Warhol, 1968

The fine art world already confronted these questions and answered between 1912 and, what, 1980 at the latest maybe?

My point here is not to assert the artistic worth of these paintings but to assert their undeniable importance to 20th century art history.

Nobody paying thousands of dollars for a traditional painting on canvas is going to buy an AI version because it's cheaper; such people are already paying a premium for artistic technique and cultivated human talent.

Or, alternatively, I have absolutely no doubt that people would pay a lot for an AI project with, I don't know, Banksy's name on it, even if it was made with freely available, open source tools, because in other cases people are paying for, essentially, a name.

The fine art community already confronted the questions raised by AI art and we're already on the other side of that confrontation. Statistically, the large battles being waged over these issues already finished before you were born.

The actually (potentially) endangered part of the art world is the commercial art world.

Not fine art, but art produced as part of an essentially commercial process in large part under the direction of other people. Fan Art, scripts for films, stock footage, key art used for commercial campaigns, pulp fiction cover illustrations, etc.

And, first of all, the reason that you can be so romantically attached to low-brow, heavily commercial art in the way that you are without feeling utterly absurd about it is Marcel Duchamp's Fountain and the works of Andy Warhol, so maybe have a bit more respect for them and their place in history if you are going to romanticize commercial art production.

Second, because it is those things that are threatened, defenses of human art against AI tend to have this kind of implicit view that the things which characterize commercial pop art are the most important characteristics of art. There is something about this that kind of bothers me for reasons I have trouble bringing up.

Okay, like, one I just watched a YouTube video where the creator said, more or less, "Can you imagine a world where people are so alienated from the production of art that instead of learning to produce it themselves, they type 'woman painting a picture' into a box on a computer and something just pops out?"

The video background was stock footage of a woman painting.

You have this really obnoxious trend of people who make monetized YouTube videos out of other people's copyrighted clips (Claiming "Fair use") talking about how awful it is for AI to "steal" other people's works, and people who fill their videos with stock footage and library tracks talking about how crazy it is that anybody would want to outsource this stuff instead of learning to do it themselves.

But also, beneath that, there is a kind of picture of "What's important about art" that is being built purely out of commercial concerns but masquerading as belief in something higher, and that really bugs me. Stock footage is elevated to the highest of human endeavors purely because it is commercially threatened by AI production.

[treesbian]

i'm homeless right now. i'm lucky to be confident that it will be resolved eventually, but my family and i have been moving around to hotels since dec 19th.

and it just really, really sucks because i want to help my friends in gaza, but i can't spare anything at all right now. i really can't afford anything but what my family needs to have for food and shelter.

i'm lucky to have shelter, i'm lucky to be homeless in a hotel with the confidence that it will at some point be resolved, i'm lucky that $300 dollars can buy me more supplies than just a bag of flour, i'm lucky to not worry about being injured or killed in a war zone. yousef and mona and their one year old alaa are homeless, in a tent, in gaza. to be honest i'm not sure how much a bag of flour is right now, the price keeps rising and rising. i'm so angry at wealthy people doing nothing. i know most of you are like me, working in retail or restaurants and making maybe around $300 in a full work week, if that.

if you're confident that you will survive the week, or until your next payday, even after sending some money away, please help this family.

vetted here

10 kr is 94 cents usd, please mind the conversion rate

[tumblehcendrum]

I OBJECT.

I talk socialism and all that shit, but if we live together, this man will not be washing any dishes.

Because I am buying a dishwasher the second I get in.

It sanitizes dishes to a level literally inaccessible for a human on a biological level (you can only wash your way through a first degree burn for so long) and it does so while using so little water that even your power bills will be lower overall because that's how much less water you need to heat up. And you can easily find a way to have one in your house for a buck per day of the year or less, meaning if in that year it saves you twenty minutes a day you'll have paid under three bucks for every hour it saved you - and I like to think the socialist circles will value an hour of work at a lot more than three bucks. And this without considering that for sharing the dishwashing workload to have ever been brought up it means there's multiple people to split the expense between - and that, again, it saves water and power, so it eventually repays itself anyway.

"But then it just moves to pre-rinsing the dishes-" no it doesn't because you don't have to prerinse your dishes stop doing that just plonk the largest food blobs in the bin the dishwasher already does a pre-wash cycle for you. If it's ever not enough just put some detergent in that little pocket next to the sealed one (or if you don't have it on the door itself) and hey presto.

Really, I cannot overstress how little sense it makes to not have a dishwasher in any situation that isn't "I'm one such expense away from the sidewalk" or "I'm moving within three months and don't want/need a dishwasher there".

Dishwashers. Wohoo!

[burningembers91]

Powder Blue Dress - Cho Hyun-Ju x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: For the first time, Cho Hyun-Ju is living the life she had always wanted. But when you move into her apartment block, will she allow herself to open up?

A/N: This is my first time writing for a transgender character, and I really hope I've done her justice. I adored her character is Squid Game

Warnings: mentions of transphobia, low self-esteem

Cho Hyun-Ju had always known she was different. She couldn’t precisely pinpoint when exactly, but she’d always had an inkling that wasn’t like her family or friends. She’d tried hard to make a life for herself, to pretend that she was happy in a body that felt completely alien to her. She tried to build relationships, shape her career and mould herself into something her family would be proud of. But the more time that passed, the more she realised that she was living a lie. This male body, it didn’t suit her, it wasn’t who she was on the inside. She was tired of looking in the mirror and not recognising the person that stared back, she was tired of people not understanding how uncomfortable she felt in her own skin.

The day she told her family she wanted to transition from male to female was a day she would never forget. There was so much anger, so much shouting. She was ejected from her parent’s house immediately and told in no uncertain terms to never darken their doorway again. She had thought her friends would be a little more understanding, but they too started to distance themselves. They called and texted less, stopped inviting her out with them. She didn’t expect much from her work and wasn’t surprised when they fired her after she told them about her dreams of transitioning into the woman she’d always known she was. she went from being surrounded by a network of family and friends to being utterly alone in the space of three weeks. Hyun-Ju packed up and moved to a small apartment on the other side of the city. She put her past out of her mind and chose to look forward instead. She grew her hair, started experimenting with makeup. She took a job in a warehouse, picking up extra shifts whenever she could to bolster up her savings into order to pay for top surgery and the hormonal medication she needed. It had been tough, and she’d taken out several loans she couldn’t afford, but the debt was worth to finally be able to look in the mirror and recognise the woman she saw smiling back.

Most days were still a challenge; people loved to stare. She understood why though, she was a 6ft female in a dress who still had a six o’clock shadow. Hyun-Ju ignored the stares and the jeers, but life was so lonely now. She found the courage to go and shop in a boutique she’d passed a few times, buying herself a few dresses and a pair of ballet flats. She was desperate to showcase her more feminine look, but where was she supposed to go when everyone was pretending she no longer existed?

She ran into you in the lobby of the apartment block one day, and her world was forever altered. “Cute dress!” you exclaimed, admiring the powder blue cotton with lace details. “It’s absolutely stunning!” Hyun-Ju felt herself blush, and her smile was so wide it made her jaw ache. No one had ever complimented her style, not before or since her transition. She wanted to ask you out for coffee, but something stopped her. Just because a person likes your clothing, it doesn’t mean they like you. But she kept running into you, and every time she did you made her blush and smile all over again. It was you who finally made the first move, inviting her out for cocktails. You were new to Seoul, and the pretty girl in the powder blue dress made your heart sing.

The two of you became inseparable, and Hyun-Ju found herself able to open up to someone for the first time in her life. You were a great listener, and you never once made her feel invalidated or wrong. You made her laugh, and the two of you spent hours together talking about everything and nothing. You were the greatest friend Hyun-Ju had ever known, and she slowly found herself wishing you could be more. But you were the beautiful girl with the sparkle in her eye and the confidence of Beyonce, and she was still scared that you’d turn her down, that she wouldn’t be enough for you.

“You have a beautiful smile,” you told her one evening, after you’d spent the night watching a comedy on Netflix and eating your bodyweight in chocolate. Hyun-Ju didn’t meet your eye as she thanked you, and you wished she could see herself the way you did. She was funny, and kind and so beautiful to you. You wanted to tell her all this, but you were terrified of pushing her away. She’d been so open and honest with you, and you didn’t want her to think you were taking advantage of her.

As she said goodnight to you, and headed back to her own apartment, Hyun-Ju studied her smile in the mirror. She wished she could see what you did, and she wished she could tell you how much you meant to her. But a lifetime of hiding your true feelings had left its mark on her. There was still so much fear and anxiety of opening up. Sure, she’d told you about her past and her transition journey but opening up to someone romantically was something she hadn’t done before. She wasn’t even sure how you felt, and she could have the situation completely wrong.

As she climbed into bed that night, she thought of you. She thought of your melodic laugh, your perfect sense of humour. She thought about the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, the way your floral perfume wrapped her in the sweetest of hugs. She wondered how it would feel to kiss you, to have you run your hand through her hair. As she looked up at the stars shining over the city, she had no idea you were thinking of her as well.

[stellasdrafts]

The Light in His Eyes (Vendetta! Leon)

Summary: you have each other’s backs (Vendetta! Leon x DSO!Reader)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: alcoholism (on Leon’s part), some vendetta leon comfort because that man needs it :(, no official relationship but mutual feelings are implied, pining…

Notes: a small Christmas-ish one-shot in january because it’s my blog and i make the rules (i forgot to post in december whoops). also sorry this one is christmas specific but christmas lights are very special to me and i wanted to write a little something about them <3

One of these days, these missions are going to kill you. You’re sure of it. You find yourself sitting on a rooftop overlooking the city, needing some fresh air after almost getting your head bitten off on call today. Being a D.S.O. agent isn’t for the faint-hearted and truth be told, sometimes you aren’t sure how you got this far in the first place. You close your eyes, deeply breathing in the cold, stuffy city air and listening to the night traffic below. What would it be like to live a normal, quiet life? For your only burden to be being stuck in the traffic below on your way home from your safe nine to five? Your heart aches when you have thoughts like these…

You’re snapped out of your mournful contemplation when someone clears their throat behind you. You whip your head around, startled. You barely register your fists clenching and muscles tensing up, ready to throw a punch or something, your tired brain registering the sound as the grunt of an infected.

“S’just me.” Leon lifts his hands, traipsing toward you. “Can I join?”

Your shoulders slump with relief. Truth be told, you wanted to spend time alone tonight, but Leon happens to be the one who saved your life today and you figure you owe him this much. “Mhm.” You nod and pat the freezing concrete beside you.

He takes the offered seat and leans back, propping himself on his arms. His warmth carries through the cold wind and seeps through your jeans. He’s only an inch or two away, after all. Despite your previous sentiment, his presence is oddly soothing. You’ve never met anyone as good as him in your field of work. He makes you feel safe, like somehow, you’re immortal in his presence because he always looks out for his team. It’s impossible, really. You know it’s a childish and dangerous mindset to have in this line of work, but there’s just something about him. You wonder how much that selflessness is destroying him from the inside….

Actually, the habituality of the liquor on his breath may already give you an idea.

“Quite a view, isn’t it?”

“Hmm?” You look up at him, noticing how his eyes are fixed on the sea of tall buildings before you. “Oh, yeah… I like the lights. I’ve always liked lights.”

A grin tugs at his lips. “Oh yeah?” He shifts to rest on one knee to get a better look at you.

You feel yourself melt under the older agent’s gaze. “Yeah. All kinds of lights…”

He just watches you for a moment and you find yourself silently cursing the extensive psychology training the government’s had you D.S.O. agents do. You’re sure he can read you like a book, seeing through the façade you’ve been tirelessly trying to keep up. He has his own, after all.

He looks out at the few festive lights wrapped around balcony railings and trees standing proudly in windows. “Like… Christmas lights?”

That reaches you. You turn your head to look at him with a dopey smile. “Especially Christmas lights. I miss them a lot.”

Your nostalgia must be contagious because he smiles at you too. You never see him smile anymore. In your few years of working together, you’ve never known him to be an extraordinarily sunny man, but it had worsened recently. Little to your knowledge, he likes seeing you smile, especially when it’s directed at him. “I didn’t know you liked Christmas so much. Maybe I should buy you a tree and some lights this year,” he jokes lightly.

You shrug, your smile fading a bit. “We never stay in one place long enough… And people don’t celebrate as much as when we were kids. It wouldn’t be the same.”

His expression softens considerably when he notices the shift in your demeanour. His lips pull into a much more familiar tight frown, his shoulders dropping a bit as well. “Yeah, I guess so…” he pauses for a moment, debating his next words. “We could make our own tradition, you know?”

You tilt your head, your smile fully sarcastic and sour now. “Sure. If we’re both still alive by holiday break.”

He grimaces, evidently not liking the sudden grim attitude, even if it carries truth. Ironic, you find yourself thinking, for a man with his attitude. “Don’t talk like that,” he chides softly, wrapping an arm behind you and dragging you a twinge closer. “I’m not letting you die anytime soon.”

And you know that coming from his lips, that’s a vow, not a weak promise. You lean into his warmth, the cold wind hitting you again now that you’re no longer in your cozy bubble of colourful lights and denial. “Right. Sorry…”

“It’s alright.” He gives your side a reassuring squeeze and resumes staring out at the dark skyline.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a minute or two, admiring (perhaps longingly) the people going about their lives in their apartments and offices. Parents putting their children to bed, couples cooking together, families watching what you self-indulgingly believe to be holiday movies in their decorated living rooms… Even the young man working alone at this hour of the night seems to sit with some sense of serenity. All possibilities of the lives you and Leon could have had if you hadn’t been pushed into the claws of the genius Division of Security Operations. He sighs – if in soul-crushing envy or in momentary peacefulness, you can’t tell. But his whiskey-ridden breath is warm and a welcome contrast to the cool winter night air.

You chew at your lip, getting a bit nervous. “You smell like booze,” you remark quietly.

“I know.” He chuckles and you know it’s a piss-poor attempt to cover how uncomfortable the topic of his drinking makes him feel. “You got a problem with that?” He scratches his neglected stubble.

You know a slightly hostile question is the best outcome for you. If it were anyone else starting an intervention, we would’ve raised his voice already. You’ve seen it first-hand with some other people on the team. “You’ve got a problem with that, Leon.” You stare blankly at the buildings ahead, your previous fascination and warmth for the sight dampened.

You feel Leon’s body stiffen beside you and his demeanour shifts. You look, and like you, he no longer seems as placated as he was a mere minute ago. His brows tug down and his gaze darkens. “Don’t do that. Not you,” his tone is surprisingly tender for being paired with his current expression.

He knows you mean well. He knows you’re worried about him. But he can’t bear having you look at him like everyone else does, like you have to tiptoe around him or like he’s always incompetent and inebriated. He looks away out of shame. He knows you’re right, but he’s stubborn and also knows that’s led to his downfall more than once.

“Are you even going to remember this tomorrow?”

Leon looks back up, his gaze stormy. His defensiveness gets the best of him, as it usually does in these situations. He’s angry, or at least he’s trying to be. But you’re sitting close enough to spot the gleam of self-hatred in those beloved blue eyes. “Why does it matter if I do or not?”

“Because believe it or not, our conversations actually mean a lot to me.” The weight of your words hangs between the pair of you for a moment. “And it’s dangerous to day drink with a job like ours. We never know when we’ll get called out. It’ll get you killed,” you add to try and save face as if you don’t care more about him than you do the other agents.

He cringes a bit more at that, and his anger falters in favour of discomfort. He sighs and leans an elbow on his knee, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I appreciate the concern, but you don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine.”

You tuck your knees up to your chest, even his body heat isn’t enough to cancel out the cold between you now. “That’s what worries me. You act like it’s fine, it’s normal. You don’t even act drunk anymore. You don’t… slur your words or stumble around or vomit everywhere. Apart from being angrier… depressed… you behave normally when you’re drunk.” You turn your body in his direction, trying desperately to get through to him. “You’re not even you anymore. Isn’t that scary?”

He exhales again, letting his hand drop from his face. He knows you’re right. Damn it, you’re always right, but he can never bring himself to admit it. “I… I don’t get what the big deal is. I do my job – well, if I might add. I don’t get into bar fights with random civilians… unless they ask for it. I supply my own drinks and keep to myself. So why’re you worrying?”

You take his face in your hands, your expression softening. Maybe he won’t lie to your face if he’s looking right at it. “Leon, drop the act, please.” From what you hear, he’s a shell of the person he used to be.

His eyes widen with surprise. He doesn’t answer anything for a few moments, your gentle touch making his mind go blank for a second. He can’t remember the last time anyone was gentle with him. He knows he can’t argue when you use that tone or when you have that look in your eye. “Fuck…”

He practically sags onto you as he lets himself feel everything he’s been drowning in alcohol for months. You have an agonizing way of making the tension in his body disappear with nothing but a few words in that honeyed tone of yours.

You support his weight. Like you always do, as he always does yours. Because it’s just Leon. You’d never let him fall, in any sense of the word. “You know, how are you supposed to put up that tree and the lights you offered me if you’re too drunk to make sense of anything? I’m not letting you in my room at HQ if the drinks are making you a grouch, either.”

He does want to give you that, a tree grand and worth being yours, pretty lights you can stare at while you doze off in the evenings, Christmas itself… More than anything, he wants to make you happy. The thought alone makes him happy. He huffs and looks away to hide his smile. “Yeah, yeah. Damn you.”

You let out a breath and a smile of your own, feeling relieved that you got to him at least a little bit. “Try again, please… At least to cut back. We can do it this time.”

He tenses again at your request. It’s not an easy one, and he’s reluctant to agree, not sure if he can even will himself to cut back so easily. But you’re too close, too warm, and you’re using that damn tone in your voice that always gets to him. He wants better for you. For himself, too. A shot at a better life. “I’ll try. Try. For you, alright?”

You hum. “That’s all I ask.” You bring up a delicate hand and brush some of that pesky hair out of his face.

He practically melts into your touch, too tired to bother hiding the effect you have on him. You both know something has been lingering between you for a while, anyway. “Anything else you want from me?” he mutters in a teasing tone, trying to lift the atmosphere he feels he ruined.

You chuckle lightly. “Probably, but we’ll work towards those things later on.”

He perks up at that, a smug smirk toying at his lips as he picks up on the implications of your words. “Y’gotta be a little more specific than that.”

Your eyes soften. Not now. Not like this. “I’ll tell you when you’re sober.” Your timbre isn’t unkind – it’s careful, genuine… You’re trying to encourage him more than anything, knowing he always fares well with a challenge or an end goal.

The muscles in his face ease as well. He gives a small nod. “I’ll hold you to that.”

You feel a spark in your chest of something you haven’t felt in a long time – hope. “So will I.”

You’re more determined than ever to bring back that light to his eyes.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

2 Hot Chocolates & a Fortune Cookie

SUMMARY: “Never forget to tell people how much you love them. They may not know.” is what is written on the little piece of paper in your fortune cookie. But maybe the boy who gave you the cookie feels that these two phases applies to him too.

CHARACTERS: Deuce Spade / Kalim Al-Asim

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Kiss

WARNING: Spoilers from "Sam's New Year Sale"

WORD COUNT: An average of 1.180 words per character.

COMMENTS: I like to write things based on the cards and I wanted to write something with the New Year's cards but I never thought of anything good enough. Until I reread the story looking for an idea and here it is.

I hope you all enjoy 🥠 And Happy New Year! 🎉

About the currency in Twisted Wonderland: From what I understand, on the JP server the Madols would be the equivalent of Japanese Yen while on the ENG server the Thaumarks would be the equivalent of US dollars. Which personally makes it easier for me to tell whether something is expensive or not in this world.

P.S.: In the second Sam's New Year Sale event, Vil is the one who says that the Mystery Bags cost 40 Thaumarks.

CONTEXT: You even thought about buying one of Sam's mystery bags, but when you saw all the commotion that there was every day in that store, plus the fact that the bags cost 40 Thaumarks (and it's not like you could afford to spend that much on a simple bag considering the money Crowley gives you), you ended up giving up on the idea and not even going to Sam's store to say hi to Deuce and Kalim.

It was evening and you were in the lounge of Ramshackle Dorm when you heard someone knocking on the door. You open it and see Deuce still in his New Year's Attire.

“Good evening, (Y/N). Sorry to show up so late, but I wanted to give you one of these.” He hands you one of Sam's mystery bags. “I bought one and saved it for you. You never went to the store, did you? Neither Kalim nor I saw you. I thought maybe you were too busy or couldn't make it because it was always full. But I thought you might like to receive one. ...Hm? Oh, don't worry, you don't have to pay me back. It can be a New Year's gift for you. Open it! I'm curious to see what you got.”

You thank him, take the bag and open it. You take out a large box that says ‘Hot Chocolate Kit’. In the box there is a bag of mini marshmallows, a packet of chocolate powder, a bag of cookies and two edible spoons.

“Did you like it? I'm glad. Since it’s random, people often receive things that have nothing to do with their tastes. But who wouldn't like a hot chocolate in this cold?”

You put that box down on the entrance table and take out a second box which is a set of matching winter themed mugs. You suggest to Deuce to use those new mugs with you and taste that hot chocolate together.

“I would love to!” He accepts with a smile. “I'll help you prepare it. I hope we can make a third mug for Grim too, otherwise he'll be mad at us.”

But you see something else inside the bag, it looks like shiny paper. You put the box with the mugs on the entrance table too, put your hand back inside the bag and take out a golden ticket.

“It can't be!” Deuce is shocked! “It’s an Amazing Ticket! So they really are true!” He is very happy and excited for you. “You don't know what it is? The students were crazy about Sam's mystery bags because of this. From what Jamil-senpai told us these are tickets you can trade for any one thing in the Mystery Shop. And there's no price limit. You can trade it for literally anything in the store! This is the first time I've seen one. You're so lucky! That’s awesome!”

You feel a little guilty because it was Deuce who paid the 40 Thaumarks for that bag. So you try to give him that ticket.

“What? No! The ticket is yours. I gave you the bag as a gift. I made enough money from this gig to buy what I wanted, don't worry. If you were lucky enough to get it, it means you deserve it. Really, keep it and buy whatever you want.” He gives you an encouraging smile. “Oh! One more thing.” He takes a small bag out of his pocket and takes out a fortune cookie and gives it to you. “Don't worry, these were free to any customer in the store.”

You take the cookie, break it in half, take out the paper inside, give one half to Deuce and keep the other for yourself.

“Never forget to tell people how much you love them.” You read the message on the paper. “They may not know.”

Deuce chokes on the cookie but quickly recovers.

“Y-yeah, I'm fine. Sorry.” He chuckles awkwardly.

You jokingly ask if he forgot to tell his mother that and he laughs awkwardly again.

“Ha ha, no, I always end my calls telling her I love her." He gets a little embarrassed by this statement, but he continues. "W-what about you?”

You say making Grim's favorite dishes is an ‘I love you’ enough for him. Deuce laughs with you and suggests that the two of you go make the hot chocolates. Even if you seem as flustered as he is, he's too oblivious to notice these things.

He thinks about that message a lot while he prepares the hot chocolate with you in the kitchen, to the point of getting distracted from time to time. When you're already putting the marshmallows on top of the hot chocolate, you make a heart with them and give the mug to Deuce. He blushes slightly when he sees the marshmallows heart, but maybe it was the incentive he needed.

“Hum... (Y/N)...” Deuce starts saying, a little nervous, but then he takes a quick and deep breath and looks at you with renewed courage. “I was thinking about the phrase in your fortune cookie and...” He looks away to the hot chocolate you gave him. “I know I always call you buddy and stuff like that but...” He starts blushing again. “The truth is... I think... I like you as more than a friend.”

He won't be able to say much more than this, it's all still very new to him. So, you are the one who takes the next step and tells him, just as the cookie advised you, how much you like/love him. He looks back at you, surprised and with a sparkle in his eyes.

Now knowing that you feel the same way about him, he no longer needs to hold back and attacks you with a hug that lifts your feet off the ground while kissing your cheek.

He puts you back on the ground but continues to hug you. He doesn't have the courage to kiss you on the lips even if he wants to. But if you do it, he'll try to reciprocate with the most affectionate kiss he can muster.

After that, you two will go to the lounge with your hot chocolates. Grim will start complaining that you didn't make him one and Deuce will reveal a third mug of hot chocolate for him.

While Grim burns his tongue because he tried to drink the still-scalding chocolate right away, you and Deuce sit on the couch together with one of his arms around you.

“Happy New Year, (Y/N).” He wishes you with one more kiss.

It was evening and you were in the lounge of Ramshackle Dorm when you heard someone knocking on the door. You open it and see Kalim still in his New Year's Attire.

“HI (Y/N)!” Kalim greets you with his huge smile. “Happy New Year!” He reaches out and hands you one of Sam's mystery bags. “I didn't see you at the store, so I thought maybe you didn't want to get in the meddle of all that crowd. These have been some really crazy days. Ah hah. That's why I bought a mystery bag for you. Here! I'm so curious to see what you've got!”

You thank him, take the bag and open it. You take out a large box that says ‘Hot Chocolate Kit’. In the box there is a bag of mini marshmallows, a packet of chocolate powder, a bag of cookies and two edible spoons.

“Wow! So cool! You have everything you need to make hot chocolate. It tastes so good in winter. Did you like it?” You say yes. “That's great! I saw many students who were disappointed with the things they got. It's great to see that it was a nice surprise for you.”

You put that box down on the entryway table and take out a second box which is a set of matching winter themed mugs. You suggest to Kalim to use those new mugs with you and taste that hot chocolate together.

“Really?! I would love-!” His overly enthusiastic smile fades, giving way to a sad one. “I... would love to... but...”

“You cannot eat or drink anything that has not been approved by Jamil first.” You finish his sentence.

He gives you an apologetic smile.

“Yeah... But I can keep you company and help you prepare it if you want. I'm sure it's great.”

However, you have another idea. You pick up your phone and search for something while asking Kalim if Jmail knew he was there. He tells you yes, that he told Jamil that he just wanted to give you a New Year's gift before going to Scarabia. You find Jamil's contact and call him. He answers immediately.

“Did something happen to Kalim?!” It's the first thing you hear Jamil say.

You say no, that everything is okay, and tell him about the mystery bag and the hot chocolate to ask if you prepare it and taste it before Kalim he can drink it with you.

“Hmm... I don't know...” You hear Jamil's uncertain voice say. “It's not that I don't trust you. I know you would never hurt Kalim but...”

“No one needs to know.” You add.

There was silence for quite a while.

“*sigh* Okay. But only because it's you. And if this came in one of Sam's bags it could have gone to any student, which makes it difficult for it to be something directed at Kalim... Still, be careful you hear!”

You thank Jamil and consequently Kalim also shouts a ‘thank you’ to him. Kalim's sunny smile returns and he is now more excited than ever to make this hot chocolate with you.

But you see something else inside the bag, it looks like shiny paper. You put your hand back inside the bag and take out a golden ticket.

“WHAAAT?! IT CAN'T BE!” He sees you looking at him perplexed. “Sorry. But you got an Amazing Ticket! Deuce and I were wondering if they were even real. And now you got one! Hm? You don't know what they are? It seems that it was because of them that so many people were buying Sam's mystery bags. Jamil told us that these are tickets you can trade for any one thing in the Mystery Shop. And there's no price limit. You can trade it for literally anything in the store! Isn't it amazing?! You’re so lucky!”

You would feel guilty for being the one who got that ticket and not the person who paid 40 Thaumarks for the bag. But Kalim was filthy rich, there was no reason for you to feel bad.

“Oh! Speaking of luck, I almost forgot to give you this.” Kalim takes a small bag out of his pocket and takes out a fortune cookie to give to you. “Sam was offering them to all the customers in the store.”

You take the cookie, break it in half, take out the paper inside, give one half to Kalim and keep the other for yourself.

“Never forget to tell people how much you love them.” You read the message on the paper. “They may not know.”

“Aww. That's a really nice message.” Kalim says as he eats his half of the cookie. “I love you, (Y/N)!” He tells you smiling.

“Aw, I love you too, Kalim.” That's what you felt was the best response back.

He said it so naturally that it seemed like something he would say to any friend, like Jamil for example. So you kind of responded the same way, even though you may really meant it.

You and Kalim went to the kitchen to prepare hot chocolates. Kalim looked like a child with a new toy, he was so excited to do something like that with you. He commented that the cookies were cute, the mugs were pretty, asked how to make chocolate with that powder, read the instructions on the back of the box with you, etc.

He was very happy to see the hot chocolate made, and all that was left was to put the mini marshmallows on top. He made a heart with them and gave you the mug with a cute smile. You do the same for him and he is very happy with your gesture, but something seemed to be bothering him a little.

“Hey, (Y/N)... When you said you loved me back, did you mean it? Because I did!” He smiles at you, blushing a little. “You didn't realise that? Why not?”

You explain that since he is always very affectionate with everyone, it is difficult to realize when he is not just being nice or considering the other person just a good friend, or if it’s something more than that.

“Really?! Ow, I’m so sorry. I didn't mean to confuse you. Looks like your fortune cookie was right. Well, I need to fix that now!” He comes closer to you and holds your both hands with his warm ones, looks you in the eyes and smiles affectionately. “You are the best friend I have ever had. Every second with you makes me happier and more loved than I could ever imagine. I wish I could do the same for you, if you'd let me. I love you (Y/N).”

He's not afraid that you'll reject him. Will it hurt him? Sure, but the most important thing is that he was honest with you and you deserve to know that you're loved.

You confess that the feeling is mutual. He is so relieved and extremely happy to the point of hugging you and lifting you off the ground while doing a spin. He gives you all the kisses on the cheek he's ever wanted to give you and can't stop hugging you.

He doesn't want to go too fast so he lets you kiss him on the lips first if you're comfortable with that. And if you do, you will feel all his love and passion for you in response.

After that, you both go to the lounge and sit together on the sofa. Grim appears, attracted by the smell, and starts complaining that you didn't make him a hot chocolate too. Kalim starts to apologize but that's when you reveal a third mug of hot chocolate that Kalim hadn't even realized you had made. Grim thanks you and Kalim praises you.

While Grim burns his tongue because he tried to drink the still-scalding chocolate right away, Kalim puts one of his arms around you and starts imagining and talking about possible dates and that he should give you the best quality hot chocolate in Twisted Wonderland next time.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[fandom-go-round]

Hello! If you're still taking requests, I'd really appreciate it if you could please write some headcanons about Emmrich, Lucanis, Neve and Bellara dating a Rook who has pretty significant burn scars, particularly on their back, stomach, legs, arms, hands or feet. The scars are healed now, but they still consider them unsightly so they try to cover up as much as possible. I'd love to see your take on their reaction to Rook's scars being revealed to them for the first time.

Burn scars also come with a lot of complications like having to keep them out of sunlight, they often get pretty itchy and since skin regulates body temperature you can get cold super easily if you have significant burns. So if you want to include any of those factors feel free!

As someone who legit cannot be trusted around hot liquids and has scars from 2nd degree burns, I'd appreciate it, but if you don't want to write something like this I understand. Thank you, and I hope your day is going well!

Thank you so much for a Dragon Age request! I had a lot of fun with it!

Warnings: Burns, Talk of Burns, Previous Injuries, Implied Low Self Esteem, Implied Body Issues

Emmrich Volkarin:

As someone who usually wears layers when out and about, Emmrich doesn’t notice right away you’re covered almost always. He thinks of it as a personal style, at least until you’re exposed to the cold. It only takes one instance of fighting a desire demon and your hands to shake so bad you can’t hold your weapon for him to wonder. He won’t ask you of course, especially when Harding asks if you’re alright and you deflect.

The first time he sees your burns himself, Emmrich has a lot of thoughts. He can tell that you’re uncomfortable, not meeting his eyes as you continue to make dinner. It’s the first time he’s seen you in short sleeves and without gloves; you had thought you were alone at the Lighthouse. He wonders where you got the wounds and how but instead, he apologizes for starling you and asks if he can help. You agree to let him help and it takes almost a full hour for the tension to leave your shoulders. Emmrich is happy to wait as long as possible for you to trust him.

The longer the two of you are together, the more you open up about your scars. Emmrich is willing to listen to anything you say and go at your own pace. He’ll go out of his way to buy you embroidered gloves that you adore and has no issues steering the others away from the topic. He’ll hesitate to touch your scars because he doesn’t want to hurt you but once you assure he can touch, he loves kissing your everywhere. Scars are a part of you but they don’t define you.

Lucanis Dellamorte:

He’s one of the first companions to notice, mostly because he has some burns himself. Not as wide spread as yours but Crow training wasn’t kind to him and he sees the way you favor warm over cold and how your legs get itchy after being in Rivani. Lucanis makes sure to cook warm meals and uses ingredients that help with itchiness. He’s a silent supporter from the beginning.

The extent of your scars makes hm angry. He has no way of knowing (at first) where your scars come from and assumes them to be a battle gone wrong. Spite often speaks of hunting the people down who hurt you and he’s inclined to agree. If he finds out the burns are because of an accident he’s going to hover more. If you’re this accident prone he’ll be your silent shadow so you don’t get hurt again. Tell him off if he hovers too much; Lucanis will find something else to help with.

He has no issues touching your scars but will make sure you’re alright with it first. He never wants to make you uncomfortable and watches for your verbal and nonverbal ques. Lucanis will do whatever he can to help you feel better; putting on ointment, buying you new clothing, whatever you’d like. He won’t let anyone talk down to you. He’s protective on a good day and if someone tries to say anything about your scars? His knife is already at their throat.

Bellara Lutare:

Bellara doesn’t realize you have burn scars until you take your coat off, wet from being slammed into the lake. It took her and Davrin combined to pull you out and you’re swearing up a storm as you strip. Davrin just teases you about losing your footing before going to find firewood. Bellara doesn’t catch herself staring until you turn away and she busies getting the camping set out.

She doesn’t bring the scars up until the two of you are alone, checking in. Mostly she wants to make sure you’re not in pain and if you are, she can make burn cream. Someone in her clan had burns like yours that bothered them. You’re surprised by her practical offer and kiss her cheek, thankful for her support. You take her up on the offer, especially when you end up on the coast. The hot air makes you super itchy.

It becomes a habit for her to help you put the burn cream on your back since it’s hard for you to reach. It’s a soft moment inside the normal day to day chaos. Bellara loves that you trust her enough to let her do this and gets to touch you. Her face is red by the end and you tease her but its worth all the teasing to see the soft look in your eyes. Once of these days she’s going to get her nerve to kiss you, she promises!

Neve Gallus:

Neve figured you were using clothing to cover up something. Most people don’t wear as many layers as you and it a toss up between scars or you really are that much trouble. The truth is, as always, a little bit of both. You naturally run cold but it’s more than that. The first time she sees your scars, she’ll admit she wasn’t expecting them. She knows that jobs can go wrong, she just wishes you were luckier.

She won’t talk about the scars unless you bring them up. She understands how it feels for others to judge you based on old wounds; she’s almost punched people because of her leg. Neve does go out of her way to get you warm drinks to hold and buys you long pants as yours get ruined. The detective side of her wants to know how you got the scars but she does her damnedest to keep those thoughts to herself.

Neve can’t help but kiss the scars when she can, almost without thinking. Clothes on or off, she’ll kiss the palm of your hand or rub your shoulder. Let her know if the touching is too much and she’ll back off. She accepts every part of you, scared or not. She likes the flustered look on your face, it isn’t often she throws you off. Neve can and will use it to her advantage.

[3liza]

the main thing the general public does not understand about cryogenics (beyond it being a scam when done commercially) is that you can't freeze a dead person and then somehow the freezing process makes them resurrectable later. you have to freeze someone while they're still alive. cryogenics "works" in the sense that we can freeze and revitalize living animals somewhat successfully, but when you freeze a dead one it will still be dead with you thaw it out. like many public superstitions i think people understand this if you remind them that "freezing Disney's head" doesn't make any sense, they'll be like "oh of course" but the level 1, casual awareness of cryogenics as a thing is firmly on the "if we freeze dead people they will be alive later" level. the people who get suckered into buying cryogenics storage have been sold a bunch of bullshit about how curing death itself will be part of the package deal though, usually when they're already experiencing cognitive decline

it's kind of like how the pop culture understanding of time travel also assumes the time machine is a teleporter

the current way cryogenics operates in practice is equivalent to saving your game on 0 health and soft locking yourself. in 100 years they will (hypothetically because no they won't) look at the tag on your pickled head and go "oh this one died of death, still no cure for that, oh well" and charge another year to your estate.

if you really want a chance of "being reborn in the future" you're going to have to voluntarily walk into the freezer the minute you're diagnosed with stage 1 cancer and even then it's probably going to be too late

[niuniente]

Hello! I am visiting Finland in a few months, and I always love seeing you talk about it and the culture there. I'm definitely excited to experience Finnish sauna. Also, ice cream! I want to try as many flavors as I can before I leave! I was wondering if you had any advice for someone visiting for the first time? How to not be rude, or foods and such to definitely try? Or just anything that comes to mind.

(Also, I love Death-Head's Deal. Alrick is the best, and every update makes me so happy. The characters are all so interesting and make me want to know more about them. I think my favorite is Grimm, especially when he's with Pearl.)

I hope you'll have a wonderful trip in Finland! The country is very safe so you can be at ease in public places. If you lose something, Finns will try to deliver it back to you.

I always say that if you are familiar how to travel in Japan in a way that you are polite, the same rules apply to Finland. This country is often called the Japan of Nordics. The mentality and what is considered polite and what rude is very same between these two nations.

POLITE WAYS TO TRAVEL IN FINLAND

Leave people mind their own businesses. Don't be overly familiar. Finns are friendly but a bit reserved and need a lot of personal space around them.

If you need help, ask anyone, they will help and not be bothered.

In Helsinki, always stand on the escalator on the right hand side.

Don't be noisy in public places, including public transport.

Expressing emotions openly is considered rude, especially in public places.

Silence is polite and not a sign of boredom or someone wanting to get rid of you.

Be honest. When you ask from a Finn "How is it going?" they will honesty tell you how it is going and expect the same from you.

If you want to politely ask for something like in a cafe, use a word kiitos (thank you). We don¨t have a word for please. (Like "One coffee, kiitos" or "a ticket to airport, kiitos"). Kiitos is not necessary, Finns don't usually use it either but we just ask what's needed.

SHOES OFF INDOORS!!

In public transport and in public transport spots, leave space around other people when waiting for the transit and being in the transit. Sit next to someone only if there are no empty seats.

(Finns waiting for a bus and giving personal space for each other)

In Helsinki, you can buy public transport tickets, including 1-13 day tickets, from R-kioski kiosks alongside the ticket machines. You'll find one from the airport, too. Note that some ticket machines do not accept cash - in that case, go to R-kioski kiosk. There's one near to every train station in Helsinki if you don't know where to look.

To get to central Helsinki from the airport, you will need an ABC ticket. If you have to go only to Tikkurila to change a train, you will need a BC ticket. Remember to validate it by showing it to the card reader in the train/bus. If you travel around a one zone, you will still need a two zone ticket because singular zone tickets don't exist. Like in the central zone A you will still need to buy a AB ticket, in the B zone you will need a AB or a BC ticket etc. More ticket information at hsl.fi

If you arrive to Helsinki but are going to go somewhere else in Finland, buy your train tickets in advance. Otherwise, the tickets can be 3 times more expensive. Buy your long train tickets from vr.fi For short distances like 1-2 hours, you might also want to try Onnibussi, which is really cheap, starting from 2€/journey. You can travel long distances with Onnibussi, too.

From the airport, both train tracks go to central Helsinki. From the central railway station, trains P and I both go to airport. If you want to use taxi, order Uber, Yango or Bolt as those are the cheapest ones to use. Note that they are still rather expensive.

If you have time and you are in Helsinki, consider popping at Estonia! There's a daily big ferry running between Helsinki and Tallinn with 20-25€. Buy your tickets to Tallinn from Eckerö Line or from Tallink Silja Line

If you are in Turku, you can make a day trip to Stockholm, Sweden! Viking Line and Tallink Silja Line operate between Turku and Stockholm.

Pretty much everyone speaks English so you'll be okay!

It's safe to drink tap water. If you want to buy water from the store, hiilihapoton is still water and hiilihapotettu is sparkling water.

In grocery stores, all allergens are listed on the price labels. L = lactose free with 0% lactose, VL = low in lactose (lactose content 1-4)%, M = dairy free, G = gluten free, V = vegan (can contain egg).

You can get anything you can imagine lactose free and there's a great selection of gluten free and vegan food, too, including in restaurants.

Here are some tips where to visit if you come to Helsinki! Mind you that central Burger King is closed.

Ask if you need/want to know something else :3

[thecubspeaks]

[there is no one at work and i've been wanting to poke at this idea... i have no idea where the plot would actually go except in the broadest strokes, so who knows if there will be more]

Karlach cries when Jaheira presses the harp-shaped pin into her hand. 

She’s been crying at everything since emerging from Avernus, it’s honestly getting embarrassing. Sunsets, sunrises, grass, a guy selling cabbages, some kids playing a game in the street. 

Obviously she cries when Wyll sets off– she cries about ten times on their last night together, which very quickly becomes a very drunk last night– like, singing-on-the-roof-of-the-Elfsong drunk. Not that it’s the last last: they will see each other again, but Karlach needs to be in Baldur’s Gate for a little bit and Wyll needs anything but, and he’s given up enough for her so she’d never ask him to stay, badly as she wants him to.

She takes a couple days after that to just be. She wanders the city, she eats all the food she missed, she scares the hells out of Dammon turning up unannounced and they both cry yet again. She calls on every friend she ever had: Rolan and his siblings (Lia’s a Flaming Fist now!), Alfira and Lakrissa (not married yet, but possibly finally together? Still hard to tell), Fitz and the baby (not a baby now, he’s walking around and can almost hold a conversation), Danis and Bex (who have a baby now, too), Barcus and his pals– hells, she even stops in at the Guildhall. Cries at all of them.

She buys fruit on the Wide and visits the House of Wonders, because she’s a fucking hero of Baldur’s Gate and best mates with the Grand Duke’s son, so she can actually go to the Upper City now. Doesn’t spend much time there, though. There’s too much to do in the Lower City. She spends a day hanging out by the docks. She considers Sharess’s Caress, but loses her nerve. She haggles with street vendors in Little Calimshan. She visits her parents. Definitely cries there. She lays in the grass in Bloomridge Park for an entire day, even when it starts pouring rain. Then she catches a stonking cold, and spends a few more days in bed, luxuriating in the knowledge that she can just lie around feeling sorry for herself and a bunch of imps aren’t going to try to stab her in the neck while she’s sneezing. She has a big, snotty cry about that, too. 

When she’s well enough to not turn Jaheira’s place into a plague pit, she makes her way there, the last and accidentally delayed stop on her list. She hasn’t really made it past the Blushing Mermaid in this direction. She tries not to look at the statue of Balduran in the square– pity that, of all fucking things, didn’t get destroyed– and as she’s thinking it, resisting the urge to look at that face, she stumbles into someone.

She laughs at once– looking the way she does, you’ve got to let people know right away you don’t mean any harm– and hold up her hands in apology before she’s even fully turned around. “Sorry, mate, I wasn’t–”

She stops. The woman, dressed in a plain black gown, is brushing herself off with visible irritation. “Watching where you were going? Yes, obviously.” She looks up, and her frown deepens. “Why are you staring?” 

Karlach blurts it out despite herself, despite knowing what a bad idea it is. “Shadowheart?” 

Her eyes flash wide in surprise, then she quickly composes herself. “Is that supposed to be a name?” She gives her skirt one final flick– she’s wearing gloves, so Karlach can’t see if the wound is still there on the back of her hand, but why wouldn’t it be? 

The ache of grief and guilt is so sudden and strong, Karlach feels sick. She can’t speak, can’t say anything as Shadowheart gives her a last disdainful look, mutters something about people with more muscle than sense, and stalks away. Karlach sinks right down onto the plinth, sitting there at Balduran’s feet. This is a very different wanting to cry than all the other crying she’s been doing. This is– all the things she hasn’t been thinking about. The people she hasn’t seen, because she can’t bear to see them. This is two fucking years for guilt over what he did– what they did– to curdle into certainty that it was the wrong fucking choice. 

She’s never stopped thinking about it, even in Avernus where you couldn’t ever lose focus, had to sleep with one eye open and keep your mind ten steps ahead. Even in the midst of all that, her shitty old brain found time to remind her constantly, constantly, of the look on Shadowheart’s face as the Mother Superior and those creepy, evil masked Sharrans dragged her away. The look on Jaheira’s face as she stared down Astarion, like she might spit at his feet. Wyll and Astarion shouted at each other for what felt like hours that night, until Karlach and Gale just had to drag them off to separate corners of the camp.  

And there was so much left to do, so much they needed each other for. So they just never spoke of it again. 

They hadn’t killed her. Was that a comfort? 

And on the other hand, they had killed her, hadn’t they. They’d killed Shads, Fringe, the spiky heart with a soft centre that Karlach knew, wanted so badly to know better. There was nothing in those eyes, in a mind they’d probably had to wipe clean half a dozen times since Karlach saw her last. Since Karlach just let them take her away. 

I’m not usually one for making the first move, she’d said. But then again, you haven’t exactly been quiet about wanting some companionship tonight. So… shall we give this upgrade a trial run?

And she’d grinned and said, Oh fuck yes. 

And Shadowheart had laughed, just the smallest bit, and said, Let’s just not go announcing it to the whole camp.

So they never told anyone. 

She’s half in a daze still as she walks to Jaheira’s place, knocks on the door. She can hear the noise of all the kids tearing around inside. One she’s never seen before, an absolutely miniscule little halfling, opens the door and stares up at her with huge eyes and huge rosy cheeks like two apples. 

“Hi,” Karlach says. The kid is so small, it’s really not helping her feel more anchored in reality. “Is your mum in?” 

The halfling takes in a long, deep breath that puffs up her whole little chest, then yells impossibly loudly, “JAHEIRAAAAA!” 

“How many times, Cheska?” scolds Rion’s voice from somewhere inside, but then she, too, is shouting, “Mother! One of your mysterious friends come to call, apparently!” 

Coming here always feels like a flash of a life she could have had, and that’s really not something she needs layered on top of her present state of mind. She almost just turns and leaves right then, but Jaheira’s there at the door before she can, and must see something in her face, because she hauls Karlach right into her study and shuts the door. Then she stops short, her hands on Karlach’s shoulders.

“Let me look at you,” she says. There’s an unignorable waver in her voice.

“Jaheira,” Karlach says warningly. “I’m a fucking faucet these days, so if you start, you’ll never get me to stop. And I just…” 

“Just what?” Jaheira prompts, and seems very glad to get to move past the moment of near-miss vulnerability. “You do not look nearly as happy as I expected you to. How long have you been back?”

“Just over a tenday,” Karlach says. “I meant to come sooner, honest, but–” 

Jaheira cuts her off with a laugh and a wave of her hand. “You needn’t make excuses to me, of all people! Rion would tell me I am getting my just desserts. But come, sit. Tell me what’s the matter, cub.” 

A voice in Karlach’s head that sounds suspiciously like Rion’s points out that clearly, Jaheira is bored. She wouldn’t be home in the first place otherwise. But that can be true at the same time as it can be true that Jaheira cares. About Karlach, about all of them. 

About Shadowheart. 

Karlach takes a breath.

“I just saw Shadowheart.”

Something goes dark in Jaheira’s expression, like a shutter drawn over her eyes. Karlach should wait to see what she has to say, but– well, Karlach’s always been impatient, and talked too much, and two more years in Avernus isn’t about to change that. “How did I let that happen, Jaheira? How did I just– stand there? It was like… it was like I was in Avernus all over again, in Zariel’s court, just watching horrible things happen and telling myself I was powerless to stop them, so it was more important to keep myself alive.” 

“Astarion was in no place to be a leader then, and we should have been quicker to see it.” Jaheira sinks into a chair next to Karlach’s. Karlach knows she was angry about it once– she saw it herself– but it sounds like all that anger has burned away with time and just left weariness behind. 

“I guess we were so used to just letting him do the talking,” Karlach says, not that the thought consoles her. “And I was so proud of him, after everything with Cazador, freeing those other spawn. I really thought he’d just– keep making the right choices.” 

“No one makes the right choice every time,” Jaheira says. “And Astarion is better at hiding his grief than most. He was far less at peace with what he chose than he wished us to know. And Shadowheart paid the price for our inattentiveness.” 

Karlach shakes her head. “I should have seen. I should have done something. It wasn’t too late to fight.”  “You are finally free,” Jaheira says firmly. “Do not turn around and cage yourself in regrets. We were none of us thinking clearly then, with the weight of the world on our shoulders– you, with the spectre of your own death always at your heels.”

“It’s because I’m free that I have to think about her!” Karlach retorts. “I get to be free. We condemned her forever.”

Funny, to get angry and not feel the literal rush of flames engulfing her. It’s just a normal heat– well, probably still a bit hotter than normal, but not literal sparks at the edges of her vision, and– in those last tendays– not the ominous clunking and whirring that said she’d started to push too hard. But it was never just the engine that got her heated up. 

“You’ve had all this time to make your peace with it, but I’ve never stopped thinking about her! I don’t regret anything more in my whole fucking life. We did so much good, and none of it even matters to me because I just think of that one evil, evil thing we let him do. That we did. I need to–” The idea’s words before it’s an idea, she says it without entirely knowing what she’s saying ‘til it’s said. “I have to do something. She’s still alive. I have to help her.” 

“I should have guessed you would say something like that.” Jaheira stands up. She goes to her desk and starts to rummage through it. “I know you know the stories, so it will sound strange to you, but you remind me very much of Khalid. You have the same heart. The same passion, though you wear it differently. Nothing can crush your kindness, after a life that would have ground all the good out of most. You cannot bear injustice, despite all the injustices done to you.” She finds what she’s looking for and straightens up. She plants both hands on the desk and fixes Karlach with a long, level, unwavering look. “You know I do not say this lightly. And you also know it is not entirely a compliment. He had– you have– the true heart of a Harper.” 

Karlach’s jaw drops. She’s just staring like an idiot but she doesn’t know what to say. There’s nothing to say, how is she supposed to respond to that? Jaheira thinks that she–

“I have spent the past months,” Jaheria says, “determining how the House of Grief can be brought down. There is unsettled business between Viconia and myself, and I have allowed her to prey for too long on the city’s lost and hopeless. And I–” Her voice falters, almost imperceptibly. “I saw her, too. A few months ago. She must have been given some mission outside of the cloister. But that will be our opportunity.” 

“How’s that? Burn it down when she’s away?”

“We must be spies before we can be soldiers,” Jaheira says with a crooked smile. “They are too well-versed in secrecy. We must have someone on the inside, and none of my Harpers have had any success. There is only one person.” Jaheira splays out her hand. The silver harp glints in her outstretched palm. “When Shadowheart sees a glimpse of light, she reaches for it. They cannot crush this out of her no matter how hard they try. You have shown her before. I know you can do it again.” 

She cries when Jaheira presses the pin into her hand. 

[sunnirayss]

In that same video, she also claims that permashifting is impossible and that you cannot script out stuff like body hair/sweating without giving yourself a medical condition that causes those things 🤦🏽.

Videos like this only convince me that shifttokers don't actually want people to shift because it hurts their bottom line as creators. Because if their followers actually shift, then the creator is no longer "special" and the nonsense they spew as a self proclaimed authority on shifting will be seen for what it actually is... nonsense! People would lose the incentive to follow them and their platform would shrink into nothing. They would no longer buy all the overpriced shifting solutions that the creator sells in their store.

@fangsbaby hit the nail right on the head, they constantly say and do things to discourage people who are new to shifting or have been working towards it for years...and that's why! They make people feel broken and incapable so they will look superior by comparison, to promote this sort of hero worship dynamic between themselves and their followers. All so they can build up a platform and even make money off of them.

They create problems so they can sell people the solution, and they have no use for successful shifters who would see through their BS in seconds. And they don't care how much they hurt people by saying that they probably won't shift, as long as they get their views it's fine to them.

Otherwise it's just ragebait to get people talking about them, like those people who haven't been relevant since 2020 who'll randomly come out to say "I lied about shifting out of boredom, we all did!".

Christine posted out of nowhere and of course her first post is to drop her "hot takes", she just wanted people to talk about her again and it's working. I think Christine and other shifttokers from the same era really hate how they've slowly faded into irrelevancy while the community moved on without them. Or how their teachings that were once built up as the only way to shift are now viewed as outdated, overly complicated, and unnecessary.

If you want to shift, stay far away from shifttok because the majority of these creators do not want to help you OR even if they do, their advice is completely terrible.

Do you want to struggle for years following complex routines or be told that there's something inherently wrong with you that makes shifting impossible...or do you want to shift with ease and be in your DR already? The choice is yours 💙

BYE WHAT IM SOBBING 😭

[maxdibert]

In my opinion, Albus Dumbledore is one of the most hypocritical and despicable characters in Harry Potter—if not the most. I find it outrageous that this old man dares to say he’s disgusted by Severus when he’s not all that different. My soul cringes at all the "greatness" surrounding him, and his whole "for the greater good" rhetoric feels like a cold shower, as if people have a moral obligation to die to save the world.

Severus, a mere pawn in the grand scheme of things, is disgusting because he joined the wrong side, but the great and kind Albus is a symbol of the resistance against evil—even though he was practically Grindelwald's right-hand man. This attitude of placing himself above someone like Severus is so infuriating.

Not to mention all the mental gymnastics he does, belittling and minimizing Severus’s trauma, making him seem crazy when he snapped in POA. Apparently, the past is only condemnable when it’s convenient.

My problem with Dumbledore goes way back, long before the whole thing with Severus even came into play. I already thought he was quite a self-righteous prick for claiming to care so much about people and then leaving Sirius Black to fend for himself. I mean, the whole situation with Sirius, Peter, and the Potters never sat right with me. Seriously, with all of them supposedly under his command—because he was the ultimate leader of the four—when Sirius is allegedly the culprit, Dumbledore just lets him go to Azkaban without even probing his mind to see what happened?

Having a supposed Voldemort ally, a double-agent serial killer, and you seriously don’t want to extract every piece of information from him? You’re not interested in investigating what really went down there? Or maybe he probably knew Sirius wasn’t a threat but didn’t care because he’d already achieved what he wanted: Voldemort out of the picture for a while and the kid being watched over at his aunt and uncle’s house. That initial question then evolved into: The kid at his aunt’s house protected by his dead mother’s spell while a double agent infiltrates the enemy ranks, willing to do anything for Dumbledore’s validation? (Once it became known about Lily’s spell and that Severus had been working for Dumbledore).

Even before I had the full picture, Dumbledore’s attitude toward Sirius smelled fishy. It seemed really off and totally incoherent for someone who supposedly cared about the people under his command. This feeling intensified for me in the fourth book and then really hit home in the fifth. Sirius is essentially the only emotional support Harry truly finds in an adult. Sure, Sirius is dysfunctional in himself, but Harry sees him as the father figure he never had, or at least that connection to his parents he so desperately needs. It’s canon that he needs to talk to him, even if it’s just to vent.

Doesn’t the kid matter to you enough to use your super-powerful, highly respected wizard influence to clear Sirius’s name so the kid can at least spend weekends with him in Hogsmeade? I mean, come on. I’ve seen many people try to justify this by saying, “If Sirius were available, Harry would have wanted to go live with him and leave the Dursleys, and Lily’s spell wouldn’t work,” but that’s pure bullshit. Just tell Sirius that what keeps Harry alive is being at his aunt’s house. Sirius is rich enough to buy a house in Privet Drive and be close to the kid so he wouldn’t have to leave. It’s not that complicated.

But this is something I thought of later with the last book. What really bothered me in the fourth was: why wasn’t Dumbledore doing anything? Why, in the fifth book, does he have a guy who’s clearly a walking time bomb locked up in his childhood home? Just waiting for him to finally explode? Honestly, when I read the fifth book, I thought maybe Dumbledore put Sirius there and set all those restrictions because he knew him well enough to know he’d eventually snap and do something reckless, and Dumbledore could just wash his hands of it. Even before all the truth came out, before the seventh book, Dumbledore already disgusted me. With everything in hindsight, not only does my nearly two-decade-old theory still make sense, but I firmly believe it’s true. I think Sirius Black annoyed Dumbledore, not only because of how he could influence Harry but because he was a disruptive element. He was a soldier who didn’t blindly follow orders, someone explosive, with an uncontrollable temperament, whose leitmotif had always been opposing authority. I think Dumbledore knew that Sirius probably only stayed somewhat stable in the Order because of James, and once James was out of the picture, there was no one to handle him. So, indeed, he became a nuisance. He could do without him. Sirius wasn’t useful because he was too temperamental and impulsive for espionage or information gathering. He wasn’t helpful offensively because he systematically questioned authority and wouldn’t follow Dumbledore’s orders unless he had a good reason. So, Dumbledore let him remain a fugitive and then locked him up in his childhood home, which was essentially his greatest trauma, and left him there to drink himself into misery until he couldn’t take it anymore, snapped, did something stupid, and ended up dead.

But not only that, Dumbledore’s attitude toward his students always annoyed me. I’ve always hated favoritism because I was raised that way. My mother was a teacher at the school I attended until I was about 12, and I never got any special treatment. She was literally tougher on me than on anyone else. As a kid, I could never understand why Dumbledore showed so much favoritism toward Gryffindors. I could kind of get that Slytherins were the “bad guys” and blah blah blah, but there were two other houses he completely ignored. Over time, and with maturity, this feeling only grew stronger.

When I read the sixth book, I was genuinely outraged because the guy condemned Tom Riddle when he was just a kid. Like, ??? How is it possible to make those judgments when they’re just children? I also thought it was absurd that he told Draco not to do it. I mean, after six years of totally ignoring him because to you, he’s just a Slytherin son of purists doomed to darkness, you tell him not to follow the orders of the maniac threatening his family?? Don’t you think if you’d done your job as a teacher and stepped in earlier to make the kid question what his parents were telling him, maybe he wouldn’t have ended up in this situation? Don’t you realize you abandoned and ostracized an ENTIRE HOUSE FULL OF KIDS highly susceptible to supremacist ideas, didn’t give a damn, and now you’re surprised when decades of negligence result in those kids choosing the wrong path? Don’t you understand that the alternative to following Voldemort is following you, and the only thing they know about you is that you either ignore them or constantly favor their rivals? Like, WHAT THE HELL DID YOU EXPECT?

And then there’s the Severus issue. Some people say Dumbledore was the only one who understood Severus. Yeah, sure, he understood him all right. He understood him well enough to use all his traumas against him, manipulate him, and turn him into a weapon. Some people also say Dumbledore was like a father figure to him. I don’t doubt that Severus might have seen him that way, as a positive paternal figure (finally, after his father and Voldemort) whom he wanted to please because he felt that if Dumbledore validated him, it meant he was becoming a better person and redeeming himself—maybe in a way similar to how he saw Lily as someone through whom to measure the right direction. But this wasn’t reciprocal. Dumbledore didn’t give a damn. Dumbledore saw Severus the same way he saw Harry: as a weapon. He realized Severus was an unstable, scared boy with a massive load of guilt, and being fully aware of the power of guilt from his own experience, he decided to exploit it. He knew Severus was talented, knew he could become even more so, so he locked him in a gilded cage: left him at Hogwarts, which had never been a home to him but a torment, kept him closely monitored, and used his skills whenever he wanted.

Dumbledore is the perfect kind of person to be a general in a war. Honestly, he’s amazing at it. He understands that soldiers are weapons and must be prepared to die for the greater cause. He understands that wars have casualties and that’s okay as long as those casualties help move closer to victory. He understands that sacrifices must be made and that if those sacrifices bring us closer to the goal, that’s fine. He gets that disruptive or dissonant elements that could jeopardize his plans need to be eliminated. He perfectly combines Machiavelli’s style with Sun Tzu’s: make your soldiers see you not as a superior but as a father.

He earns absolute devotion by embodying this fatherly figure that inspires trust, but deep down, his mind is a tangle of plans. His goal is to defeat Voldemort (who, by the way, is also a product of his own negligence, because if he hadn’t been such a crappy teacher, maybe he would’ve noticed the red flags and stopped Riddle earlier, but okay). If defeating Voldemort means a bunch of teenagers have to die, another kid ends up in prison, a child has to sacrifice his life, or the people around him are manipulated, so be it.

I understand this philosophy—it’s very military—but I don’t agree with it because I hate that kind of mentality. I could respect it if it weren’t for the fact that Dumbledore, on top of it all, is so moralistic. The guy who should be the last to pass judgment on others’ decisions, who should keep his damn mouth shut, is constantly moralizing, being condescending, and posing as the champion of morality and the compass of good and evil. Honestly, I would have slapped him in the face, I swear. What a jerk. So many messed-up people, all because he was a narcissistic prick. Screw him.