#also the worst part is because of it i think even if i get that day off again i will no longer get holiday pay on new years

[heyftinally]

I specifically want to elaborate on this part:

Decontextualizing and rephrasing an interview: I am not going to pretend that I am an expert in academic best practices, but I do believe one thing, if a person is speaking on their own identity and lived experience, it is always much better to directly quote than it is to rephrase. As I read this source, I initially didn't know that it was AI, and I was already upset. An interview that is widely available on the internet with no pay wall, was poorly sourced and made more vague than it was in the initial text. By creating one degree of seperation between the original words of A WRITER (whose literal job was largely based in choosing the right words to describe experiences they had) harm is already done. It makes vague what was once clear, and removes Keri Hulme's voice from her own narrative.

As someone who has spent a LOT of time and effort on the nitty-gritty of quoting others in professional documents, I feel like I have a pretty good foundation on which to speak about this.

As a general rule, you want to directly quote the speaker as much as possible.

First and foremost, this is because you don't want to put words in their mouth or misrepresent what they said, as that's dishonest on your part as the interviewer/writer/etc, and harms your credibility. Remember the "Coolsville sucks" meme? Yeah, don't be that person. Quotes should be full and verbatim as much as possible, because anything else presents the possibility that you aren't accurately or fully representing what the speaker said.

The second reason is because when you re-word someone else's quote, you inherently inject your own biases into the new version you create. What that means is, consciously or unconsciously, you are influencing the way readers perceive what was said. This is bad because at best, you're speaking over the person who's quote you re-worded. At worst, you're manipulating your readers to think as you do, regardless of what the original quote said.

When presenting a quote from someone else, your job is to communicate as clearly as possible the speaker's original statement and intention. If giving the direct quote is not possible, careful paraphrasing is vital.

If I say "Sara James then went on to express her dissatisfaction with the pay she received", what would you assume the original quote is?

It could be "Yeah, I found out I was only getting paid ⅓ as much as my costar, even though I have 40% more screen time and I did almost all of my own stunts, so needless to say I'm not happy and I've been talking to my team."

But it could ALSO be "I was surprised when I found out what we were all getting paid. Not to sound like a total nepo baby or anything, but normally the projects I do pay more, y'know? But then I found out that the reason pay was lower for everyone - not just me - was because production was donating a whole bunch of money to the local children's hospital since we filmed in the lot next door. Which I thought was really cool of them! Like, obviously the hospital doesn't get much say in the filming, so I thought it was really cool of production to give back as, like, a thank you. Plus we got to go visit the kids, which was just amazing!"

TECHNICALLY in both of these, you could argue that displeasure about pay IS mentioned - but the specifics of the situation are entirely lost in the oversimplified paraphrasing, and THAT is why changing direct quotes can be dangerous.

So, yeah. I just wanted to elaborate on that particular point because it's one I covered *heavily* while in college. How you quote someone is important.

":')))))))) you realise that gen AI is available to everyone though right??? Queer creators can use it just as much as anyone else??? I just don't understand this post... It really feels like a cheap way to get on the 'AI Bad's bandwagon, and coming from such a thoughtful and insightful creator that's incredibly disappointing... It's okay to not comment on subjects you're not an expert in y'know...?"

Y'all know the drill, I am replying to this publicly but that is not an invitation to send any negative messages to the person I am replying to.

Anyways, let me start by saying that the original context of the post you're replying to is discussing an event where a queer org used generative AI to steal an interview with Keri Hulme. So let's start there. To be clear I don't even know if the original interviewer was queer so let's put the identities of stealer and stolen from to the side. I want to explain the harm done in this example specifically and I hope this is illustrative of what harm generative AI can (and does) do.

The original place I saw generative AI was a queer org that explicitly says they are using generative AI "for good", and as a way to bring more queer history to light. So let's take them at their word, and assume they are not out to cause harm. This is the best example of generative AI that I can imagine, so I hope that makes it clear that I am not coming at this issue from bad faith in any way.

Here is the harm they are causing:

Decontextualizing and rephrasing an interview: I am not going to pretend that I am an expert in academic best practices, but I do believe one thing, if a person is speaking on their own identity and lived experience, it is always much better to directly quote than it is to rephrase. As I read this source, I initially didn't know that it was AI, and I was already upset. An interview that is widely available on the internet with no pay wall, was poorly sourced and made more vague than it was in the initial text. By creating one degree of seperation between the original words of A WRITER (whose literal job was largely based in choosing the right words to describe experiences they had) harm is already done. It makes vague what was once clear, and removes Keri Hulme's voice from her own narrative.

The original interviewer is not paid, or given proper recognition: I get it, sometimes just copy pasting an interview doesn't feel transformative enough, but something that one would learn if they worked in the queer history field and weren't a literal robot rehashing what has already been said, is that not everything needs to be transformed. In those cases, we give credit to the person who said the original words (in this case Keri Hulme), and the interviewer who facillitated the conversation (in this case Shelley Bridgeman). This case (again a best case scenario), takes the attention and byline away from the original interviewer and gives it to an AI.

The original publisher of this story is deinsentivised from paying interviewers in the future: The original publisher of this interview has ads on their website. As a person who also has ads on their website, taking an article like this and rephrasing it for no good reason (the orginal word count was not prohibitive and the rephrasing did not make it more readable), takes money from the publisher. It's pennies, but it's also removing numbers could have been used to justify further interviews with asexual people and archiving of asexual stories. The org that stole from this publication does not interview people themselves so the money and numbers that could have gone to continue to preserve asexual stories goes to stealing them instead.

These are just the active harms that I saw in this specific case. As you said, I am not an expert in generative AI, and will not be speaking as if I am. But I will say that asking me not to speak out on active harm that is being caused in queer history spaces, is disrespectful to my many years in this field.

To illustrate this even clearer: if you were a patron, you would know I recently took down an old article. I have been rereading and editing our backlist of articles, and I found one that no longer fit my standards of sourcing. My standards had recently raised due to a video made by HBomberguy about someone in the queer history space who was stealing from other creators. I watched this video not as a work project, but because I watch most of HBomberguys videos, and this one made me think more critically about sourcing. An AI can't do that. All an AI has is what has been inputted, and it is right now impossible to input every available peice of information about ethics into an AI and get a coherent ethical basis on which it will function.

It is a distinctly human trait to absorb information and change in that way. AI can rephrase information that already exists, steal it, recontextualize it even, but it cannot create something altogether new.

Do I believe that there one day might be an ethical use for Generative AI? Maybe. Do I believe that coming into a queer history space, stealing the words of a Maori asexual author, rephrasing them, and giving the original interviewer and publication no form of compensation for their work, is accomplishing that? No.

On a more personal note: I am coming at this issue with a bias. As a queer history creator, I do not want AI in my space, because it is literally damaging to my financial prospects. It has been like pulling teeth to try and get patrons in the current state of the global economy. I don't blame anyone from that, but I feel very disrespected that I am being asked to compete with a machine now. Not only that, but I am being asked to shut up and be fine with it? No, absolutely not. I cannot and will not stay quiet as space that I have fought tooth and nail to create in mainstream discussions is taken and given to AI.

AI was not supporting me when I was sent gore to try and scare me off of discussing queer history. A person did that. AI was not there to tell me I had written too many sad stories, and I needed some happy endings to remind myself of the good in the world. A person did that. AI was not there when I was being harrassed for supporting and including asexual stories on my website. A person did that.

And after all that, I am being asked to lie down and take it when my ability to pay the people who supported me in those ways, is being threatened. Nope. Not going to happen.

An AI doesn't have to make rent. An AI doesn't understand what it feels like to have to stop holding their wife's hand in public. An AI didn't get calls from people needing comfort in reaction to the election. Pay me for my work, and get this AI nonsense out of my face.

[joemama-2]

thinking of a very annoying gojo 😕

when he’s feeling particularly arrogant and just needs a good laugh, he folds his arms behind his head while he watches you attempt to ride him with no help whatsoever

but he’s just so big and you can barely take him without whining for his hands to slowly maneuver you down. he’ll chuckle, head tilting in a condescending way and says, “you can’t take cock on your own now? what about the way you used to fuck yourself with that pink dildo?”

and immediately, your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. he always brings that up at the worst time. shyly ducking your head, just barely peering up at him. but when you see his grin and amused expression, you want to shove his face in a pillow

when you gain the courage to start moving up and down, pathetic mewls and pants fall from your lips. “s-stop looking at me like that…!”

“i’m just watching you ride me, baby. can’t i do that?”

“you’re making me nervous….”

he laughs, bucking his hips upward so suddenly that a squeak leaves you. you’re a little surprised at the high pitched tone of yours, unaware that you could even make a sound like that

“fuck me faster.” he commands in a soft, inviting voice. “or i’ll laugh at you.”

“shut up!” you breathe out, hands sliding up from his bare chest to his shoulders. gripping the broad skin as you will yourself to move faster. but your knees are already starting to hurt and the tip of his cock is hitting you so good you feel like you’ll cum soon.

hips stuttering and soft mutters of “ngh”, “ah”, “t-toru….”

as much as he enjoys watching you ride him in such a wimpy way, he can’t deny the fact that your warm walls are sucking him in perfectly. the glowy look on your cheeks, the way you bite your lip between your teeth, and the way you’re holding onto him, it’s all trying his patience.

and finally, with a soft, broken plea of help, he’s sighing heavily like it’s a huge ask of him. giving in as he places his large hands on your hips, giving your ass a slap. “i need to train you better.” he sounds like he’s chastising you, but it could also be himself.

feeling him guide your movements, allowing your body to slump over him. parted lips against his ear as he uses you like his own personal fleshlight. it’s exciting and just feels so good. your release trickles down, wetting the lower half of his stomach and top half of his thighs. wet squelches filling the room as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm because he hasn’t finished yet.

“not done,” he grunts, shifting your positions so he’s behind you. raising your ass in the perfect position, keeping a hand to your lower back to keep your arch in place. “stay like that, baby. move and i’ll make you fuck on your own again.”

“ngh!” you muffle your moan into the mattress, fingers gripping the comforter.

the white ring that forms around his cock, watching himself enter and exit your fluttering hole is a heavenly sight to him. feeling his lips upturn into an entertained smile. a breathy chuckle sounding from him like he’s completely enthralled. he’s all but ignoring your cries for him to slow down and warnings that you’ll cum again.

“like i said,” he breathlessly mutters, emphasizing his words with a particularly hard thrust. “i’m gonna train you better. you’re so messy right now—look at you.” he coos.

you try to respond, but your words come out as a broken whimper, incoherent and entirely needy. he chortles and leans down, lips above the shell of your ear. “but first,” his voice lowers another octave. “i’m gonna fill you up. over and over until you get it, mkay?”

“m-mhm…!”

he kisses down your spine. “good girl,” his tone softening despite the way his hips snap harder against your own. “knew you could listen.”

[annasofthe11thdimension]

Alright, so this is basically...an art dump for all the pics i drew when i was trying to draft the ending i wanted my Odile looping Au 'Like a Wheel Ever Turning' which...is not even SLIGHTLY how this fic is going to end now, but while figuring that out i still like draw all this and had to do SOMETHING with it.

So figured I'd post it and be like 'hey! fun Odile looping act 5 boss fight vibes not connected to anything else!' since like...that basic IS what they are at this point lol.

The one cool idea i loved that i think is now FIRMLY ditched is the act 5 boss fight starts when Odile uses wish craft to splinter herself into two halves.

The 'old/current' her that is meant to be her coldly logical side, and a younger 'copy' version, which is meant to be the childish irrational side...that is what's stopping her just shutting down the time loop because she can't figure out how to be happy with her friends leaving.

I mean, if you murder the part of you that WANTS the wish to come true, that's basically a 'get out of time loop free card' right? Right! Totally sound logic!

Yes the 'young' version of her firmly believes that she's real, and also also got memories going up to about age 21, and also that she ought to be in Ka Bue not HERE among these french weirdos.

Also yes again, a 'young' Odile is EXACTLY as unhinged about this as you'd expect a 21 year old to be upon finding out that apparently the 'real' her think murdering her is the correct solution to this problem!

The shift of the fight was meant to have the inverse 'colors' shift from one version to the other by the end, wrapping up with the point where the 'original' Odile is forced to have a heart to heart with the personification of her perceived 'worst' qualities.

Pretty sure the vibes for this ending was a lot more focused on the resolution of having deeply complex feeling about EXPRESSING emotion directly to other people. That along with a side helping of how isolating it is to be perceived as a 'real' adult such that you can't be weak enough to ask anyone for help. Because really if you can't even be that then why are you any different then when you were irritating mess of a youth?

Not saying any of that isn't still present in the story, but like...there is a LOT of other stuff going on, and those themes are now linked into many other ones too, and that's not even TOUCHING on how Loop's been...somewhat complicating my redrafting lol.

...Also I might have drawn/plotted this version before i knew about two-hats lol. THAT also is a factor.

Anyway! Still liked all of these enough to want to do SOMETHING with them, and figured this worked, so i could like map out my thoughts on them, even if i never got to write this.

[sports-on-sundays]

this simple feeling / LN4 & OP81 / Part 3

Summary: Lando x female!Australian!McLaren marketing unit worker!reader x childhood best friend!Oscar - Two Formula 1 drivers who just so happen to race for McLaren also just so happen to have fallen for you. Link to part 1, link to part 2

Warnings: I think I might've messed up the timeline just alittle bit but that's okayyyy (probably should have all taken place like a week or two later but I only realized that after it was all written so I guess you'll just have to deal with it; I'm sincerely sorry), language, sickness, vertigo, let me know if there's more I missed

Requested?: To be honest, I don't think so, but let me know if I forgot about you.👍

A handsome smile adorns Lando Norris's lips as he strolls down the Spanish paddock, and it's extraordinary to believe that despite his outside cover, he has the most pounding headache.

It's all my fucking fault, his mind roars as he catches the eye of Max Verstappen walking past and gives him a friendly wave. Y/n is a nervous wreck over the whole situation, and Oscar seems like he's going to blow if he sees me show Y/n affection one more time.

Why did I ever fucking start this stupid, stupid 'relationship?' It's a mess, and it's all my fault.

And I've got no way of fixing it.

Maybe I should have just given up Y/n in the first place, before all this happened.

Maybe I am wrong for getting in the way of her and Oscar.

But a part of him knows that's not right. He could never give you up. You could never give him up. And neither of you could ever give up on Oscar.

Even though it's starting to look like that might just be the best for him. Or at least, the best option at this point.

After I've gone and messed it all up.

For once in his life, sleep won't just take Oscar Piastri.

It sounds stupid, because he shouldn't be going to sleep. Not here. Not now. But as he lay in his driver's room, all he wishes is for sleep to take him away from his never-ending thoughts into a peaceful, sweet, dreamless slumber.

But every time he tries to replace his current ones with new ones, his brain always leads him back to the main point:

You messed up.

He sighs. He's just being over dramatic, isn't he? Isn't that all it is? Shouldn't he just get over himself?

It's not that he doesn't like Lando. In fact, he does. A... well, a lot. He could see himself having real affection towards him.

He might even want to.

But that longing, confused part in his brain keeps coming back to: But what if Y/n loves him more? Isn't he just getting in the way of what you always wanted?

Isn't this unfair, Oscar?

But that's just the worst part of it all.

It's not unfair. Not one bit.

For your whole life, Oscar has known you. For years, he's cared about you. He's even loved you. He just never said it. Always held back. When he shouldn't have.

If he had just acted way before, in the beginning, it would've been just you and him. That's the way it would have been, and Lando would have never gotten in the way.

But, Oscar's brain whispers, almost like a sneaking suspicion, do you really want Lando out of this, now that he's in it?

Maybe I just have to learn to accept it. Accept him. Trust them both.

Do I just need to get over myself?

Because I am the only reason why this isn't working...

Right?

No one else can feel it, but it's getting awkward. Not even so much in private. In private, Lando is honest, and Oscar tries. In private, you see. They're not all lovey dovey, but they care about each other. It's like all is well, though you and Lando both know how Oscar can get.

But in public, it's worse. Terribly worse. It's like Lando and Oscar want to have something, but they can't. It's like Lando wants it but Oscar won't let him... and, at the same time, as if Oscar wants it but Oscar also won't let himself.

Why not?

In public, since they have to fake, it's like it's hard not to. Because they're closer than friends, but not more than that.

In private, they're trying to fake, so it almost comes easier.

But in public, they almost avoid each other at the same time as being super friendly with each other when they do have to talk.

You hate it.

A huge part of you wonders: If Oscar likes Lando back, why doesn't he just relax and let this whole thing work? Doesn't he need it?

Doesn't he need Lando, just the same way I need him?

He certainly acts like it. Sometimes. The only solution you can think of, though a not very clear or perhaps not very accurate one, and one with certainly no answer, is this:

He wants you more than anything. But he needs Lando more than anything.

But because he wants you so bad, it hurts him to see Lando having you.

Though he has you, too.

But he can't let himself break out and let himself love Lando back, because his feelings towards you are so incredibly strong.

You sigh.

Oscar. Why can't you just give up? Give in? Why can't I show you just how much I adore you?

What do I have to do to show you?

Is there anything I can do that would be enough?

You sigh. What if you're all wrong? What if Oscar really can't love Lando back? What if this whole thing is bound to fail?

What if there's absolutely no solution?

As anxiety begins to fill your chest, you feel as though you're right back at square one again.

Why didn't I just choose, from the beginning? Wouldn't it have been better to break one of their hearts, than all three of our hearts?

Because isn't that what is going on right now?

We're all breaking.

And we wouldn't be if I hadn't ever, ever let it get this fair.

Damn it.

It really is all my fault.

Maybe it's all the stress, or maybe it's just the natural way of things, but either way, by the time a week later that the Austrian Grand Prix comes around, you are in no world feeling well enough to go to it.

Of course, that's fine. You're sick; no one will have a problem with you staying home to rest up and get better. There are plenty of other people who can take care of your usual responsibilities for one race weekend. That's not really a big deal at all.

Of course, Lando and Oscar sure treated the whole thing as one, both of them talking about how one of them should stay with you, and how are you going to get on by yourself, and they feel like such bad boyfriends for leaving you in your unwell state, and so on. Blah, blah, blah.

Really, it was the sweetest thing. You know you shouldn't complain. But you did end up telling the two they were both wrong, not to worry, go race, and it's quite easy to FaceTime and stay in touch so they can check up on you over the weekend.

So despite whatever your boyfriends think about it, that's the decision you made sure was made, because there was no way you'd let either of them do something so ridiculous as to miss a race because of you.

Especially not the Austrian Grand Prix, for God's sake.

Well, whether Lando and Oscar would admit it or not, both of them, in their own little ways, see this as an opportunity for connection with each other.

One-on-one.

So now, of course, Lando has been the sole thing, other than racing, that's been on Oscar's mind all weekend. So much so that he finds himself wandering towards Lando's driver's room after qualifying, his heart leading the way more so rather than his head.

When he reaches the door, he finds it ajar, and peeks in through the door frame, his heart pounding.

Why is his heart pounding?

He swallows, his eyes resting on Lando relaxing, scrolling his phone. He hasn't seen Oscar yet.

Lando. There's a lot I like about him.

Let's just try this. Just for now, forget about Y/n. Think about Lando. Think about all the reasons why you care about him. Think about it as if it were just you and him.

Would you want it to work?

He knows the answer, but wouldn't dare let himself consciously think it.

Oscar gently knocks on the door, as to avoid startling Lando, before saying softly, "Hey, Lando?"

The British man immediately looks up, his hazel eyes meeting Oscar's plain old brown ones. Though he doesn't smile, his eyes soften. And brighten. "Hey, Oscar." He sits up a bit, as to make more room on the sofa. "Wanna come in?"

Oscar nods, stepping inside. Gently closes the door behind himself. Somehow, Lando seems to understand.

He sits down. Closer to him. Turns and looks him right in the eyes. Opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it when he realizes he has nothing to say.

Lando talks instead. "How are you?"

"Fine... and you?"

"Good... I think the race should be promising."

Oscar nods in agreement. The silence feels so simply empty.

"You missing Y/n? Is that what it is?" Lando gently asks.

Oscar considers that for a few seconds, before slowly shaking his head 'no.' "Of course, I wouldn't mind her being here. But that's not it."

"What's 'it,' then?" Lando asks.

Somehow, he just knows, doesn't he?

Oscar's starting to see why you might love that about him so much.

"It's not Y/n I'm missing. I guess I'm missing you. And me. I'm missing us."

"Hm," Lando says simply, seeming to ponder that for a few seconds, before saying softly, almost as a dare, "How could you miss 'us,' if 'us' was never a thing?"

Oscar feels the sudden urge to reach out towards Lando. Put his hand on his, or fix that loose curl, or do something.

But he holds back. Like he's always done with you.

God damn it. Am I really doing it again?

What am I even doing?

"I guess..." Oscar murmurs after some hesitation, staring down towards the tiled floor, "I miss the 'us' that could be and should be but never has been."

Oscar feels Lando look up towards him, but continues staring at the floor.

"Look at me."

But Oscar doesn't dare.

That's when Lando gently moves his hand to grab Oscar's chin and force his head to look at him. Not in an overly gentle way, but not in a way that hurts.

Oscar sighs. Those eyes.

When did he start liking them so much?

"We can make that reality," Lando murmurs, in the same determined way he talks about sports, or strategies. "We can make it happen. You don't have to miss me, or Y/n, and we can make 'us' come true."

Oscar gulps. Nods, though he knows not why.

Maybe it's because I really do want it.

I do, don't I?

Us.

Lando reaches over and grabs Oscar's hand strongly. Wraps his hand around the other man's. "This simple feeling..." Lando whispers. "Don't you like it?"

Oscar swallows. "I don't know if I like it, but..."

Lando waits for him to finish, even after he's trailed off.

"...but I think I know that it's exactly what... what I need."

Lando sighs. A little smile even begins to sneak up on his lips, just gently. Softly. Hardly there.

That's when he leans in and pulls him into a hug. And embrace. And it's refuge that Oscar finds there, in his arms. The same kind of irreplaceable refuge he finds in your arms. He sighs, wrapping his arms back around Lando, feeling the warmth of his body around him like a blanket.

"This simple feeling," Oscar murmurs this time, mirroring Lando's words, swallowing, his voice cracking softly, though tears don't threaten to fall.

It's just a little raw.

"This simple feeling... it's exactly what I want. What I need. From both of you.

"It's like I'd be content if we let this last forever," Oscar finishes softly with, close to Lando's ear.

"We can make it last forever," Lando utters back.

And all time stops in that little room as the two men embrace. A cavern of honesty and truth.

A safe place that promises to hold them forever.

It's funny how someone's cares and concerns can be washed away so quickly.

Like, for example, Oscar's podium at the Austrian Grand Prix in 2024, seeing his team grin up at him, spraying the champagne with George and Carlos, the joy of getting second place.

Partially, also, the joy of being the one to score points for the team.

But once that's all done and he's talking and doing all that PR, it starts nagging at him. You're not here, which means Lando's all alone.

Probably fucking pissed off.

P20.

So it's a mix. He got 2nd! But Lando got 20th.

So he tries to get through all the PR gobbly-gook as fast as possible, while still putting on a good face, since he knows you'll particularly care a lot if he screws up all his interviews the one race you weren't able to make it.

As soon as he's set free from his duties, though, he rushes to Lando's driver's room. On the way, someone even grabs his arm, saying, "Oscar! Oscar! An autograph? Please?" but he brushes them off, saying, "If you stay around, I'll be back to give it to you!" before just running off again.

He honestly can't grasp why he's so particularly and intensely desperate to see Lando.

It's because he did something for me last night when I needed him. Now I can't just leave him when he needs me most.

Soon, he reaches the latched closed door and knocks hard, saying, "Lando? Are you in there?"

There's a few moments of silence, and for a moment Oscar's nerves tell him that Lando isn't even here, and that he ignored that fan for no reason at all, until those thoughts are interrupted with Lando responding with a heavy sigh in his voice, "Osc? You can come in."

Oscar sighs with a certain amount of relief before gently opening the door and letting it shut behind him.

Lando is standing, not facing Oscar, on his phone, texting. Head down.

"How're you-"

"Texting Y/n."

Oscar nods, slowly walking up behind him. He gently rests a hand on Lando's shoulder, and says softer, "What's she saying?"

"Everything she has to in order to try and make me feel less like shit."

"Is it working?"

Lando turns, looking over his shoulder back at Oscar with a wry smile, saying, "Not at all. Max is a fucking-"

"Cheater, aggressive driver, idiot, bad sportsman. I know that's everything you're going to say. You just need to blow off some steam, hm?"

Lando snorts, shutting off his phone, hanging his head. "I've had an hour and a half to do that since the race."

"It takes a while," Oscar says simply, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

Lando sighs, nodding. "I know... I guess I'm not even really that mad anymore. Just disappointed. And frustrated."

Oscar nods, glancing away, beginning to slip his hand off Lando's shoulder.

But Lando reaches back, slipping his hand over Oscar's to keep it there, dragging his other hand over his face with a heavy sigh

It's then that Oscar suddenly feels compelled to do something he never thought he would.

Yet he gives in, simply because it feels like exactly the right thing to do in the moment. So he wraps both arms around Lando from behind, pulling him towards himself, letting his nose and lips press against his neck, next to Lando's ear.

Lando sighs in something like contentment.

And Oscar feels himself smiling softly, before it quickly fades off, and he whispers gently in Lando's neck, "You're a good driver. You would've won that race. But I also know that means you'll be able to win the next one, hm?"

Lando nods, sighing. "You're right. I know you're right."

Oscar nods, murmuring, "But you have every right to be upset. And I'll be with you during that working through it as long as you want me to be."

Lando feels an unexpected smile begin to creep up on his face as he mutters, "I want you here with me every single moment you want to be here, Oscar."

"Yeah? It's funny how I've started to like to be with you more."

"I guess that's just my natural charm, hm?" Lando says softly, his smile growing.

Oscar can almost not believe how he naturally chuckles at that and responds softly, "I don't know about that..."

Lando is full on grinning now. That handsome, big, sunny smile of his. "Just ask Y/n about it. She'll tell you all about my charm."

"Hah," Oscar says sarcastically, but for some reason, instead of coldness, like that comment might used to have filled his chest with, he feels an undeniable, affectionate warmth fill his body.

A feeling that he seems to like a lot more.

He just re-wraps his arms around Lando and responds softly, "I'm sure Y/n would tell you all about my charm, too, Lando."

Lando smirks, glancing back at Oscar, meeting the Australian's milk chocolate eyes. "But you don't have to ask Y/n to hear about how charming you are, Oscar. I could talk about that all night." Lando's honestly not sure where all this bravery on his part is coming from, but he's honestly glad for it. Since it seems to be going down well.

Oscar's eyebrows raise as his light complexion becomes slightly flushed. "Hm. You could?"

"Oh yeah," Lando laughs a bit. A beautiful sound. Then the two remain in that peaceful silence, before Oscar lets his hands slip away from Lando gently.

Lando turns, taking the younger man's hand in his, looking earnestly into his eyes. "Hey. Congratulations on your P2, by the way. I was so caught up in my own shit, I completely forgot about your-"

"Don't worry," Oscar says, waving it off. "I don't mind. But thank you, anyway."

Lando grins, leaning in to kiss his cheek and saying simply, "No, thank you, Oscar. Look at the way you've managed to cheer me up like that, huh?"

Oscar smiles at that, his eyes fluttering shut for just a moment, perhaps in something like peace, or trust, for him to murmur, "Not sure how that happened..."

"Guess it's just that charm of yours we previously discussed, huh?"

And Oscar's eyes flutter open just in time to see Lando peck his lips.

And with Oscar's face fire hydrant red and Lando laughs filling the small room, I'll leave it up to the reader to go and imagine what could've happened next.

Oscar and Lando get out of the car, Lando holding some flowers and Oscar a grocery bag of goodies.

"You ready?" Lando says with a little smile, nodding to Oscar.

"Can't wait to see her, despite the poor state she must be in," Oscar says with a nod, and is about to start walking, when he suddenly stops and, with only a moment of hesitation beforehand, holds his hand out to Lando to take.

Lando looks at the hand, before looking up at Oscar again, taking his hand, with a little grin. He gives him a nod, before the two head off towards the house, hand-in-hand.

You're awakened in your feverish state by the ringing of the doorbell. You know you should get up and at least look to see who it is, but at the same time, who could it be? You're not expecting anyone. So you opt for the easier decision to just assume it's something unimportant like the mailman or something and leave it, letting yourself drift back into your feverish half-sleep.

But just as you're about to fully drift back off into slumber, it rings again. You sigh and stand up with an ornery groan, dragging your shaky legs to the window, to peek out of it, to see what on earth is so important.

But you stop as soon as you see them.

Your boys.

Lando holding flowers.

And what's more, they're holding each other's hands.

And they both look completely comfortable with it.

Really? Even Oscar?

He's not that good of an actor!

Soft smiles adorn both their handsome, perfect faces, shining like a charming prince and a shining knight.

Your foggy brain doesn't take the time to consider which is the prince and which is the knight, and you instead rush to the door right away, unlocking it and exclaiming, "Lan! Osc!" You stumble a bit dizzily as your weakened legs threaten to give out, but Lando's arm is there to steady you right away, keeping you from falling.

"Hey, Y/n," Oscar says gently, putting his arm on yours as Lando plants a quick kiss on your forehead, asking, "You okay?"

You sigh, nodding, and saying after the wave of vertigo subsides, "Just still a bit sick."

"No kidding. My God. Let's get you back inside and in your bed," Lando says gently, letting you use his arm to steady yourself as the three of you head inside and to your bedroom.

Once you're there and crawling back into bed, Lando hands Oscar the flowers and says, reaching in the shopping bag, "Got you some chicken noodle soup, Y/n. Want me to make you some?"

"Oh, God," you murmur, sinking back down against the pillow, "Yes, Lando, that'd be great."

He nods and leaves, going off to do that, leaving you with Oscar.

The first thing Oscar does is say, taking the blanket from the bottom of the bed, "Want this on?"

You nod, sniffing up your stuffed up nose. He gently tucks you in, kisses your forehead right where Lando kissed it, and grabs a tissue for you, seemingly out of thin air.

If you weren't a bit feverish, maybe you would of just known he got it out of the shopping bag. But you kind of missed that detail.

"We got you flowers," Oscar says gently, sitting on the edge of the bed, next to you.

You smile softly, leaning up to smell the bouquet, saying weakly, "Aw... that's so lovely... You guys didn't have to."

He smiles softly. "We wanted to treat you. To show you how much we missed you this weekend." He brushes a strand of hair from your forehead, before frowning and murmuring, "You're really warm. Hey, I'll be right back, m'kay?"

You're not sure how long it takes, but in a bit, Oscar comes back to place a cool cloth on your forehead, and puts the flowers, now in a vase, next to you, on your nightstand.

"They're so pretty," you murmur softly, gratefulness to you warm in your voice.

Oscar smiles. "Pretty flowers for a pretty girl."

You smile softly, reaching to take his hand. "I like you like this."

"Like what?" his eyebrows raise.

"All soft. I like that."

He smiles. "Just taking care of you." He leans down and kisses your cheek, saying, "Can I get you anything? A drink? Water, tea?"

"Oh... I think I'm good. But thank you," you weakly smile.

He nods. "Are you comfortable? Do you want a fan, or another blanket, or anything?"

You shrug. "I dunno... Maybe a fan would be nice. There's a big one in the closet. Jus' put it on low."

He nods and immediately heads to do that. Once he's done, he goes straight to the windows, saying, "And the blinds? Are they good the way they are, or should I-"

"Oscar, Oscar," you say softly, giving a lazy wave of your hand. "None of that matter. Not really. I don't really care. Why don't you just stop worrying and running around and taking care of me and doing everything for just a moment and just come and be with me, huh? That's what I want for you to do the most. Just come be with me. Let's just talk, hm?"

Oscar blinks. "Oh. Of course." He nods, making his way across the room. As he settles down on the bed next to you, he says simply, "Sorry."

"Don't worry. I like it. You just need to give yourself a break, too. And I want to talk with you, Osc." You slip your hand in his.

He nods, and after a few seconds murmurs, "Maybe that's just what I want, too."

"See?" you smile softly up at him.

You sit together in silence for a bit, him gently rubbing your hand in his, before you finally think to ask, "So... How... How are things with you and Lando?"

"You noticed a change, didn't you, huh?"

"For the better. Unless I'm imagining. Or you suddenly became an amazing actor in one week."

He smiles, nodding. "Lando, he... I think we worked it out. I worked it out."

"Worked what out?"

"That I love you, and I might just love Lando, and that in order to love one, I've got to love the other."

You stare. "You... You and Lando?"

Oscar nods. "We talked. I think I can make this work now. Let this work. We can let this work."

You smile. "Hm. Really?" you look at him with fluttery eyes.

He shrugs, smiling softly. "I can't just care about myself. That's not what a relationship is about. Nor can I just care about you. Nor can I just care about Lando. It needs to be selfless, you know? We need to be there for each other."

You grin and murmur, "For some reason, Osc, I really wanna kiss you right now, but I'm sick. It's like you've just said what I've been dreaming for you to say for weeks now. Probably months."

He smiles, nodding. "I guess it was bound to happen. I just had some things to work through. And even though I don't even know how, and don't think he does, either, Lando helped me work through them, partially, too... Oh, and by the way, with the kiss thing?" he smiles, leaning down a bit closer, before murmuring, "I'm sure you won't get me sick. You're probably way past being contagious." And with that, he closes his eyes and leans in to kiss you gently.

It's then that Lando walks in and says with that cheeky smile of his, "Hey, lovebirds, can I get in on this? When's it my turn?"

You pull away from Oscar and tease, "Oh, get back in the kitchen!"

"Jeez! I guess I'll just eat your soup, then, if you're going to be like that!"

"Wait! No!" you say, reaching your arms out for the tray in his arms.

He chuckles, placing it in your lap, and says, slipping on the bed next to you, on the opposite as Oscar, "Did you really think I would eat your food?"

"You might..."

He grins. "I might."

"Hey!" you giggle, rolling your eyes.

Lando lays down next to you as Oscar says, "My goodness, Y/n, you're so peppy as soon as Lando enters the room. You were acting so sick before, just a few minutes ago!"

You grin, looking him over with a shrug, "I guess I liked the way you were treating me so softly and delicately. I didn't want you to stop feeling like you had to take care of me. Now, come on. You lay down next to me, too, won't you?"

Oscar smiles and does so, murmuring, "I guess I can't say no, huh?"

You smile, contented, shutting your eyes as you feel the warmth from both of them, on each of your sides, envelop you. "I guess not."

As you eat your soup, your boys snuggle up to you, their arms wrapping around you, and the three of you talk. Mostly about Austria, and then about he upcoming British Grand Prix in less than a week now, which you're sure you'll be healed up enough for, especially since getting there doesn't require any planes or airports. Sometimes, that can be the worst part of travelling to Grand Prixs far away.

Soon, though, you finish your soup, and sink back down into the pillows, letting the tiredness seize your body once more. As you begin to drift off, the last thing you whisper is, "I love you guys..."

On each side, you feel each of their lips gently kiss your cheeks, but you don't stay awake long enough to hear how they respond to that.

Here you are, with your two McLaren boys.

Sure, there'll be rough spots. Lots of them. Something like this doesn't promise to be easy.

But sometimes, the harder path is the better one in the end.

And right now, in this simple moment, it feels perfectly worth it.

Well, maybe perfectly imperfect.

But would you really want it any other way?

This simple feeling...

[sweetflanfiction]

Assymetrical Symphony - Part 12

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

A.N: Still on vacations!

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10

• ··········· • ············ •

In a very proficient succession of moves, Viktor had grabbed his keys from his bag, locked the front door—something he wasn’t supposed to do because of the council’s shenanigans, but Viktor hardly ever did what he was told—and had opened the door, holding it open for you.

Shaking your head at his antics, you made your way to the room and short of going inside. A butterfly had flapped its wings somewhere down the space and time lines, and what was once a spacious room was now nothing more than a broom closet.

“I know it is not ideal, but…it’s this or the hexcore room.” You heard behind you and cleared your throat.

“This is… um… fine…” You nodded and walked to the back of the room, which was exactly a small step forward, and turned back to the door.

Viktor walked behind you and closed the door, leaving both of you in darkness. He shuffled to get himself in a comfortable standing position, his cane leaning on the shelf behind you.

You knew if you could see anything but the soft glow of the room outside from under the door, you’d be face to face with his chin, having to still tilt your head up to look at him whenever you were in close quarters. You shook your head and cleared your throat to get your mind back on track. He took half a step back, completely oblivious of your thoughts, and you did the same, the shelves behind you carving a dent into your back. 

“Alright. The baseline for your starlight rune is about fifteen minutes.”

“Starlight rune?”

“I told you I wasn’t good with names…Do the rune with the new variant.”

The glove came off with a practiced tug, and the small room was slightly illuminated by the blue glow. You saw Viktor's hand immediately shoot up to touch it again, his never-ending curiosity getting the best of him. Your hand twitched in anticipation of the contact, and he stopped short of actually touching it.

“Sorry, it’s not you…it’s…” You started but couldn’t finish when you realized that it was in fact because of him.

“Don’t worry. It’s my fault…Learn not to touch anything before checking it’s safe... Truly, it’s the worst... I have a few scars to show for it.” He used the glow of your hand to touch a few small scars on his palm.

SVRCINA - Astronomical

You laughed quietly, tracing the rune for the tiny lights in the air, adding the small symbol on the top right of it. A flick of the wrist and up they went. Viktor tapped his fingers on his thigh, counting the time, his neck stretched up to look at the ceiling.

The endlessness of darkness is hovering. The sound of the silence is deafening. Ten billion decibels shattering

The opportunity presented itself to look at him in detail. On the forefront of your mind was the need to find any difference from your Viktor. On the back of it, the hope that there was none. 

The shimmering lights gave his already pale skin an even white tinge, but you could see the small freckles and skin marks he had running behind the collar of his shirt. His jaw was still sharp and angled, and his cheeks high; you peeked at the beauty mark under his eyes, and he still chewed on the inside of his mouth when he was thinking hard. Your eyes shifted down to take notice of his breathing. Closing your eyes, you listened to it. Clean, no wheezing, no strain. 

I'm drawn to the unknown where shadows hide. A slave to the powers that magnetize There's something inside of me I can't fight.

The smell of mint and cinnamon filled your nostrils. You had forgotten the height difference, the gentle way his breathing would make his chest rise and fall on his better days. You’d forgotten the time before he became consumed with legacy. You’d forgotten he was once flesh and blood and warmth.

You heard the shift in breathing before you heard the quiet laugh and looked up at him. True to his word, he had a hand outstretched, touching the tiny specks of light floating above you.

Weightlessness forsaking me. This pull is astronomical.

“Fascinating.” He murmured, his long fingers swirling around the shimmer. “It’s cold, but…not unpleasant.”

Viktor’s smile never faltered, a pleasant sound coming from his throat. The floating orbs just floated around the tips of his fingers, like smoke around a tree branch.

He moved his fingers to grab one of the lights, and your breath got caught in your throat. You really should stop him, but the gentleness of his long fingers as he swirled them around the smoke, nudging the smaller nodes away to grab a bigger one, left you hypnotized and mute.

Viktor’s fist closed around a glowing marble, and it burst like a soap bubble, breaking into tiny wisps of glitter and regrouping again after they passed his fist.

Can anybody... Anybody... Can anybody stop me?

You looked at his face; the usually warm golden eyes have taken a paler palette with the white cold light reflecting on them. His lips were curled up in a soft, wondrous smile that reminded you of a child; his long neck was stretched upwards, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed his amusement. It was new... this was new...

It hit you like a ton of bricks that even though you’d seen this man in almost any state of mind, this childish wonder was something you never noticed. You were far more preoccupied with keeping him alive than finding something that gave him this type of feeling. Even if in the end, whatever feelings he had were gone.

Ooh, this pull is astronomical.

“You’re staring again…” He snickered, and you nodded.

“You remind me of someone…” 

“Hopefully a good someone…”He looked down and smirked at you.

“Heh…He had his moments... You cleared your throat. "Shall we test the other theory perhaps?”

Viktor nodded and had once again craned his neck upwards. You did the rune and added the coda symbol on the same corner as the infinity symbol and flicked your wrist up.

The rune disappeared, but the stars stayed. You both locked eyes with each other and then looked at your hand, as if it was to blame for the lackluster results.

“Maybe it’s the symbol? Or the intention?”

“Perhaps…what have you been setting as the intention for this one?”

“Just…light up. The first time it appeared, I was in a dark room, so light seemed the best option.”

“Maybe think…dark…or…off.”

Shaking your shoulder to release some tension, you drew the rune, drew the coda, and set it free with a very defined 'turn the light off' intention.

“Rune… intention… push forward…” Viktor repeated, his eyes darting around the darkened room. “Rune…intention…push forward…”

“I could try other symbols…”

He nodded, and you started to add symbols to the rune. An exclamation point, a dot, two dots, an X, the actual word STOP. But nothing seemed to be the floating little light from floating.

“You push it forward…” He raised a hand and placed it next to yours, palm up. The glow of your hand casting a light on the side of his hand

He drew the rune with his index and middle fingers and flicked the wrist up. By the third time he did it, you mirrored his movements, you drew the rune and the suffix you had initially given it, and flicked it up. Nothing.

The small blue brush strokes grew in brightness as you finished the drawing. The rune itself was a dainty thing, swirly with a loop and a dash. It was your favorite rune to draw, you thought at that moment.

“Rune…intention…push it forward.” You both whispered in sync as your hands danced in well-choreographed movements.

“Of course…” You heard Viktor exclaim and looked up at him, but his eyes were still on your hands.

He turned his hand so that it was hovering on top of yours without touching, his long fingers by your wrist, yours under his own joint. He drew the rune, like he was stroking your wrist. A shiver ran down your arm, but you mimicked him like before and drew your own rune. When you flicked your hand up, your fingers touched his wrist with a soft thud, but his hand did the opposite movement; instead of moving downwards—since he was mirroring your movements—he pulled back, his hand arching back.

“It makes sense…you speak the rune…” He made the motion again, you repeated. “You set the intent and…”

You both snapped your hands backwards. The rune shimmered, and the floating lights shot towards your hand, leaving the room in darkness in a blink of an eye, the only sound the slight heavy breathing from the sudden shift in brightness.

"You pull it back." Viktor whispered. 

"That's..." You thought about saying smart, but this was Viktor, one of the most intelligent people you've met.

"Unlike words, once you speak the runes, you can take them back, and everything goes back to normal."

"Words can be taken back." You said, moving your hand up and feeling his wrist still hovering there. 

You let your fingers touch his wrist, gently flattening them against his skin, your thumb softly grasping his forearm. You felt his own hand rest on top of yours. You could see the blue light engulfing his hand.

"They hurt all the same." He softly whispered.

"Pains and aches, eh?" You heard him chuckle. "The mending rune... I can sustain it now. Imagine being able to keep something from breaking."

"You have to be careful. Magic is not free. There will be a toll to pay.” His voice shifted and something mechanical. 

“I’m actually doing this…I’m learning... and adapting... and”

“Evolving…” A mechanical low voice came from where he was, but you didn’t feel it like last time.

“What?” Your eyes snapped up to where his should be.

“What?” He looked at you confused, and you shook your head, dismissing it.

A second of silence until you heard a quiet laugh come from him.

“This is... real magic. It’s just like we thought. Exactly like we thought. The books were right. The hextech is an almost exact copy of what actual magic is.” 

“Viktor…breathe…”

“I’m breathing…I’m breathing..." He moved his hand away, pushing a hand through his hair. "We are finding ways to control wild runes.”

“Don’t look wild to me. That one actually looked like it was meticulously drawn.”

“They are wild because they are natural, not because they are unpredictable.” He grabbed the door handle with one hand, his cane with the other, and pushed the door open. “I need to write this down.”

He was halfway out the door when he stopped abruptly, and you managed to stop just in time by placing your hands on his back, almost throwing him off balance and to the floor. A hand on his elbow balanced him out.

“Good gods, Vik… What the..." You started but then looked at what—or who—was staring at.

“You two kids wanna to tell me why you were inside a dark closet?” Jayce inquired, his lips curling up on one side, his eyebrow going up on the same side.

Viktor straightened up quickly, and you did the same, more flustered about the almost tumble than Jayce’s questions. 

“Nothing.” Viktor quickly answered

“Magic.” You said at the same time, with the taller man’s face snapping to yours, mouth agape at your nonchalant tone.

“What?” You shrugged as you walked past him to the table.

“What kind of magic?” Jayce’s eyebrows wiggled suggestively. 

“Jayce!” Viktor, whose gaze had been following you around the room, snapped to Jayce.

“The actual magical kind.” You pulled the glove back on your hand. “The rune one.”

“Oh…eh…that’s fun too, I guess.” The broader man shrugged.

“How’s Mel?” You retorted.

“Magical…” He sighed and then winked at you.

You looked at him, face blank, and shook your head; he gave a goofy lovesick smile, and you groaned dramatically to emphasize you were joking.

“She does have some news for us about the council…shenanigans…” Jayce straightened up and leaned on the table.

“No…no…nonono.” Viktor shook his head and strode towards both of you, a small scowl of confusion on his face. “We are not just going to breeze by this… What is happening…? When did this happen?”

Jayce looked between Viktor, you, and then pointed to himself.

“Kid who jumped places because a mage decided to save his life…” He pointed at you. “Actual Mage.”

You were happy that he didn’t add the rest of his sentence about you.

“Wait…they know about the…happening?” Viktor looked at Jayce with wide eyes.

“They do.” Jayce nodded, and Viktor turned his eyes to you.

“And he knows about the runes?”

“He does.”

Viktor looked at the ceiling of the lab, taking a deep breath, while these pieces of information all fit in his head. When he was satisfied, he looked back down to you and Jayce, nodding. 

“All right… all right…” He walked over to where Jayce was leaning on the table and you were seated on a stool. “What did Mel say?”

“They have a date for the council meeting.”

• ············ • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr @kapitankarate @mynicknameisgasoline @octo-octopie @birbwithhat

[lost-romantique]

I am trying desperately to figure out why parts of this fandom WANT a Stolas/Blitz/Vassago love triangle.

First of all, I thought we as a society have agreed that the love triangle trope is one of the worst romance tropes out there and that we’re all ready to retire it.

Second of all, it would be such a fundamental betrayal of both Stolas’s and Blitz’s character journeys for that to happen. Stolas would roll back his progress in making choices for himself and owning up to his mistakes, and Blitz would have every dooming fear he had about love validated and he’d shut down again.

Even if it’s just coming from the perspective of loving Stolas and thinking he can do better than Blitz, making Stolas even CONSIDER something romantic with Vassago, after everything he and Blitz went through, would be such an audacious display of character assassination.

And even if you don’t care about the characters, with all the other conflict going on, throwing a love triangle in there would just make the story bloated and irritating.

No matter how you look at it, adding a love triangle would be a dooming decision for the show.

I could understand the sentiment of Stolas and Vassago being a possible thing if we're referring to Apology Tour Blitz.

Back in Apology Tour, Blitz in no way was ready for a relationship and no matter how hard he tried to put that mask down, he wasn't able to open up completely without looking pained.

However, Sinsmas Blitz is genuinely the very best version of Blitz there is (so far).

Attentive

Caring

Fun-loving

Caretaker

Protective

Patient

Happy Cuddly Lizard 🦎

Suave and Romantic

And this version of Blitz is only able to exist because of the intensive character growth he went through in Apology Tour, Ghostfuckers, and Mastermind.

But the main reason why this Blitz is able to exist right now is because he has completely opened up his heart and soul to Stolas, and knows that without a doubt that he is genuinely loved by him (Stolas), Millie, Moxxie, and Loona.

Of course, Blitz has some more character growth to do, but right now, he's at much more healthier mindset than he ever was, and that's a miracle.

Stolas, right now, needs help and assistance and has some growing to do. And Blitz sees that and knows that. There is no better person to care for Stolas right now than Sinsmas Blitz.

I know Stolas is confused, lost, depressed, and is in desperate need of his antidepressants; but he is going to be fine as long as he is able to grow and adjust to his new way of life.

Right now, the man is now dealing with the fallout of every wrong thing he has ever done in the course of the series in genuinely the most fucked up way possible. Actions have consequences, and Stolas is now learning the gravity of that.

But I'm going to be blunt, the man made his bed, and now he only has Blitz. They don't owe each other a relationship, but if Blitz is giving 110% of his love and devotion to Stolas, and Stolas repays him by literally going, "I am now magically in love with Vassago who I have never had a fucking conversation with once in the entirety of two seasons."

That is going to ruin Stolas' character for a lot of people, and that is going to break Blitz in a way I fear he won't ever be able to recover.

Also, these guys are endgame. You can't get anymore endgame than the gayest- cheesiest Disney duet in the universe.

[crimsonphantasmagoria]

I've been scouring my brain for weeks now, trying to come to a reconciliation between the Solas we get through Inquisition into Trespasser, and the Solas we see in Veilguard, and I think I've finally come to an answer which satisfies me, though YMMV of course. It all has to do with selfishness.

What put me onto this is the way he talks about the romance path. "It was selfish of me" he says, almost angrily. Selfishness is a thing he can't stand in others, and certainly can't stand in himself.

Solas has had his opinions and wants dismissed in the name of selflessness again and again. Most importantly, this has been done by the person he Respects the most, Mythal (this is true whatever you believe the nature of their relationship was).

The first thing, which led to everything else, is that she persuaded him to take a body for a selfless cause: protecting the People from those like Elgar’nan. Then, she had him craft the Lyrium Dagger, against his wishes, because it was necessary to end the war. And then she betrays him. He was brought into this world against his will to prevent Elgar’nan and the like basically from doing exactly this, and she's going along with it? He doesn't want to go against her, but he has to, for the good of the People.

Once the rebellion starts, Solas is required to act against his personal wishes again: he has to uphold the mantle of the Dread Wolf. We see this in Felassan's letter to him.

The next time we see Solas and Mythal together is when he warns her about the Evanuris using the Blight, and more or less asks her to run away to the Fade with him. And she refuses. We can debate her motives all we want, but I think it's safe to say that running away to the Fade with her was what he wanted. His selfish wish. And she rejects it, and goes to confront the Evanuris alone, and dies. His grief reframes this as her dying because he was selfish. And in his grief, he chooses to seal away the Blight and the Evanuris. Now, this wasn't a bad thing to do, but he is pretty explicit in Trespasser that he did it directly in response to them killing Mythal. A selfish act. And it goes catastrophically wrong.

He comes to years later, and the world is horrifying. Elven mortality, corrupting spirits, magic suppressed, all because of his mistake. His selfishness has hurt the People he has a duty to, given to him by the person he respected the most. He immediately sets about fixing the mistake. After all, he's more or less the only one who can. He kills Felassan, when he betrays the cause. He doesn't want to, but since when has he wanted any of this? When was the last time something he wanted mattered? Fixing what he's done to the world matters more.

But then he gets outwitted by Corypheus, and the Veil is coming down in the worst way possible, causing untold harm on both sides. And he can't fix this problem. The only person who can is the one with the Anchor, the future Inquisitor. So he sets himself to helping them do so, because it's the best he can do to fix his new mistake. And in doing so, he sees the best parts of the new world. He meets people he genuinely likes and admires, potentially even loves. He realises that these people are complete as they are, 'real'. It goes faster with a high approval or romance Inquisitor, but even with low approval, he eventually gets to the same place. He wants to help them. He wants to stay with them. He wants his time with them to have mattered.

But that would be selfish. Since when have his wants mattered?

He leaves them. He doesn't want to, but he has to. He kills Flemythal, because he needs her power if he's going to do this, even though he doesn't want to. He weeps. Gets back up and continues on. Since when has what he wanted mattered?

Trespasser happens, and he tells the Inquisitor almost everything, because they deserve to know, but also...he doesn't want to do this. This is the beginning of his subtle attempts to help them stop him. He can't admit it. He can't admit that he needs help, that he wants to stop, but he can subtly, almost unconsciously guide them.

This culminates in him leaving the eluvian path open for Varric and co to follow him to the unguarded, unwarded ritual site. Unfortunately, Varric tries to reason with him. But he cannot be reasoned with by Varric. Nor by the Inquisitor, nor anyone else in modern Thedas. That's what he wants, you see? He wants to stop, so he can't. That would be selfish. I do think that, maybe, if Harding had taken the shot, he might have allowed it. Taken it as a fair defeat. But she doesn't, so we'll never know.

So he ends up in the regret prison, otherwise known as literal Hell for Solas, and tricks Rook into helping release him. He's more or less the only one with power sufficient to take on Elgar’nan. You know, the guy he came here, unwillingly, to oppose in the first place? So he goes and helps the Shadow Dragons in Minrathous, but it isn't enough. Fortunately, Rook escapes, and they defeat Elgar’nan together. Unfortunately, he has now run out of excuses to not do the thing he doesn't want to do, and the Veil is coming down anyway, so.

But then Rook offers another choice. Bind yourself to the Veil and save us. He does seriously consider it for a second, because it's what he wants to do, and Rook isn't a person he cares about personally. He might respect them, but he doesn't really like or care about them, like he does Varric or the Inquisitor. Weirdly, this might make it a more effective plea, taken from this perspective. Ultimately, though, the Unselfish thing is clearly to fix his mistake, fix the world, so he goes to do that.

Then here comes the Inquisitor. He can't stop for them either, but he feels like he owes them an explanation still. He failed Mythal, and she died. He was selfish, and she died. This will all have been for nothing if he acts selfishly now.

Now Morrigan arrives. Whose fault is that? She channels fragment Mythal. I like to think this part is these two fragments of Mythal reuniting for a few moments. And Mythal says, in effect, "if i had let you stay where you wanted, if I'd listened to what you wanted, then maybe none of this would have happened. You aren't the only one at fault here. Be free from your duty to the People, and choose your own path from now on."

The Inquisitor reinforces this, and it takes him about two seconds of collecting his thoughts to choose, because frankly it's what he's wanted to do the whole time. And then he chooses to return to the Fade, and to seek atonement for his part in creating the Blight. Probably also something he wanted, but felt like he couldn't persue because he wanted it. But now he finally can, because his wants have been acknowledged by that person he respected the most as valid. So off he goes.

This might actually make the romance with Lavellan even more powerful because it means he wanted her badly enough that he almost chose her anyway, even despite his prior conditioning. Sadly, he eventually realised that the relationship was fucked if he couldn't stop his plans and couldn't tell her who he was because he couldn't stop his plans, so he ended it, for her sake, another selfless act, to try and make it easier for her to hate him. And if she doesn't, and asks to come with him in Trespasser, he refuses, for selfishly stated reasons, because he wants this one thing to remain pure and uncorrupted. But in the end, he won't refuse her again because he's finally allowed to want again, and what he wants most of all has always been her.

Idk, I've just been struggling to make Solas’s motivation change between games make sense to me, and this is what worked. Nobody else has to think this. Totally just my personal speculation.

[cripplecharacters]

hi! there is a character in a dnd campaign i play who has fd. his current only ambition (as far as i know because he’s not my character) is to Get Revenge on the people who gave him his fd. he already hits a few bad tropes but i scoured your posts on fd and couldn’t really find anything about this specifically. is it a bad trope?

Hi, yes I'd say that it is a bad trope.

Is having a facial difference really that bad to the point your only goal in life is to [insert action] on whoever caused it? That's not only sad as hell but also no one does this. Even people who got their disabilities in traumatic events still have things going on for themselves.

Why does having a visible difference always have to be a metaphor for some event and never just a disability that real people have? One can be bitter and/or traumatized by what caused their FD and not be a villain archetype. It's literally like the first panel in this comic.

As a writer who has a facial difference I just think this is an incredibly bad motivation anyway. I get if they would want revenge because they lost a loved one in the attack that also disabled them or whatever, but who feels so much hatred over getting a scar to be doing all this? This is my perspective but it feels absurd.

Can't they want revenge over getting maltreated or something? Abused? Or whatever else was the Event? Anything that doesn't equate facial difference with something that it isn't? Facial difference is a part of your face. To me my facial asymmetry is as much a part of it as eyebrows are for abled people. If I obsessed over it or my slowly progressed paralysis to the extent that the average OC with FD does I wouldn't be able to function.

Would the character also become obsessed with revenge if the Bad People caused them to lose their hair or is it just that facial difference specifically is so bad you have no other choice but to make it your life's mission to avenge this Worst Thing that could happen to someone?

There's not much for me to say since it's not your character, but I'd advise putting some characters with facial differences who aren't walking tropes who hate their disability and have their existence revolve around it. An NPC who has a burn scar or was born with frontonasal dysplasia (or both, why not) and doesn't make it their entire personality would be cool.

Hope this helps,

mod Sasza

[rnadett]

@transsweets Sorry, Guys u clearly missed a LOT from my analysis.

1. It was never just Caitlyn. It was Vi’s and Jayce’s agreement too. Vi knew exactly what The Grey was, and Jayce specifically designed her weapon for a strike mission. Loris’s, Steb’s, and Maddie’s weapons were all built for the same purpose—to strike.

Do you really think Jayce was like, "Yeah, I have no idea why you need these weapons designed like this, but sure, I’ll do it—no questions asked"?

Second: Margot and Chross, with their "Game of Thrones" in the undercity, harmed more civilians than the gas itself ever did. If it had continued, it would’ve been a full-blown catastrophe for the people living there. Margot’s clients were mostly high-influence figures in Zaun—primarily criminals and other gang members—because they were the only ones who could afford her services. Also, Zaun is HUGE. Pls look at the map! And yes, that ties directly to the meaning of my first sentence. >>

Ekko didn’t intervene or say anything against the gas, even though he was still there when they started using it. The Firelights knew everything happening in Zaun, especially something as big as clearing out Zaun’s (Ekko's) number one issue—the Chem Barons’ turf war, which caused the massive influx of refugees. That's an agreement because:

Ekko would’ve been the first to storm out, especially on Vi, if he didn’t agree with it.

I broke down every point, and now you’re just bringing it back up without actually reading. Every single character interaction (even if it didn't happened directly but you have a feeling for it) in Arcane has meaning—even if you "miss" it. Also, if the gas was the worst thing in Zaun, then why wasn’t it in any other part of in the whole later? Why didn’t it linger in other areas? Pls, just rewatch the episodes.

Also, why didn’t Sevika bring it up again beyond Vander’s statue? She doesn’t mention a word about it. If this had been Caitlyn’s greatest crime against Zaun, she would’ve used it to rally the Zaunites to her side. Instead, the central point of her speech was that there were Noxian soldiers in Zaun—something, yes, Caitlyn allowed.

Also, I never excused the use of the gas, nor did I ever say it was the best thing that could happen or that they should be thankful for it.

All I'm saying: It prevented a bloody war that would have been far more violent and brutal than the one that killed Vi and Jinx’s parents.

Sometimes I feel like people have more sympathy for the Chem Barons because of the whole "what they’ve been through made them like this" narrative, but you completely ignore the fact that they hurt and kill civilians along the way, becoming oppressors to innocent people. This completely misses the point of the series—that there is always a choice in what kind of person you become, (even if you're in an oppressed group) and it’s never too late to change for the better.

It’s okay if ppl can’t forgive Caitlyn’s actions, even though she was willing to die for them. But I smell hypocrisy, especially when they say things like "Jinx never killed civilians." No, she just stood by Silco’s side and helped maintain his power while he got half of Zaun addicted to Shimmer, causing quicker and longer suffering. Good souls can only be exploited and driven to desperation for so long. (also with my slides, I never made Jinx dirty - My slides didn't meant to be a Pro Cait and Anti Jinx post... )

I lost my father to drug addiction—he ended up like the people in Zaun, just skin and bones. We fell into debt trying to get him from one therapy to another, (or what is the right word in english..) so I can relate to that aspect. And yet, I can still sympathize with Jinx and even Silco, despite the fact that they likely ruined countless families forever I can completely see every part of it, even the parts of Silco’s rule that weren’t shown—like how Silco might have sent his goons to collect money from families because, for example, the father was so addicted to Shimmer that he bought it on credit. Later, they’d try to collect the debt from a 10-year-old child who opened the door for them. You can imagine the rest.

Because everyone who upholds that system shares the guilt.

As Ekko and Vi said, under Silco’s rule, it was the worst for civilians. But at least Silco had a brain. The Chem Barons’ power war, like the one after Vander died, would’ve lasted so much longer and caused even more devastation.

How interesting that the strike team never targeted Ekko who didn't exploited civilians?

Also, what do you think who gave them the info that they should strike Margot's place?

It was most likely Vi's suggestion since the topside - thanks to Marcus- still didn't anything specific about the Chem Barons.

Ekko AGREED to use The GREY to neutralize the Chem-Barons.

Here's the analysis:

False, one-page or one-sentence ragebait posts always spread faster than detailed content, even though, to get an accurate picture, it's important to examine the details, not just take something out of context without meaning. If you're interested, you can find more in-depth analyses on my profile, such as why it was Heimerdinger, whose 200 years of neglect and inaction created the entire conflict between Zaun and Piltover.

Thank you for reading it!

[shallowseeker]

"We see a glimmer of emotional despair and blame lobbed at Cas which is… fascinating" out of curiosity and for clarification, what was the emotional despair lobbed at castiel? im reading the transcript and am not quite sure

Confession: This is conjecture on my part.

I feel like this scene in Ouroboros is ofc course directed at all of Dean's loved ones, as they were all working to convince Dean to stay alive.

But imho, here: Dean's squared up to Cas.

And Cas squares up to him,

while Sam's body instinctually takes on the body language of a peacemaker between them.

(Also// We as audience have the diner scene between Dean and Cas fresh on our minds: DEAN: "Okay. But if -- if you don't we still have Plan B. ... Coffin. Ocean. Done.")

Sam's not exactly "getting it," but I think his subconscious must understand something of it, maybe...

///

I think the emotional despair that seems be more directed at Cas isn’t blame in the traditional sense but rather a reflection of Dean’s internal conflict.

I think Cas represents something Dean deeply struggles with—his own desires.

Cas, along with Jack, symbolizes hope and the possibility of a particular kind of future happiness, which Dean has been convinced that he’s not "allowed" to want. He has to be covert about it, to take a meager, starved kind of approach to his own happiness. (Note: Dean is allowed to enter family units and support others, but he's rarely allowed to "need" something/someone for himself in earnest.)

There's 14x10's almost-happiness: "DEAN: This bar -- This bar -- This bar -- I've never had anything this nice. Rocky's still isn't for sale."

And 2x20's DJINN CARMEN as she walks up to him, taking his face in her hands, kissing him* CARMEN: We can have a future together. Have our own family. I love you, Dean. Please."

And of course 8x17's DEAN: "I know you're in there. *CASTIEL raises his angel blade, ready to strike.* I know you can hear me. Cas... *DEAN's voice breaks, pleading.* It's me. *CASTIEL stands there, blade at the ready, light glints off the blade.* We're family. We need you. I need you."

And what's even more sickening? AU Michael's words later work to inflame this: "If only Dean had used that coffin when he had the chance."

(Aside/// And likewise, The Empty's deal works to convince Cas of the same thing, that he's not "allowed" to feel personal happiness or express love without dire consequences!)

/// Anyway, I think Dean’s decision not to say goodbye to Cas and Jack in 14x12 does stand in stark contrast to his other behaviors: hugging Sam, eating last meals with Mary and Donna, etc. I think this difference highlights how unique and emotionally complicated his relationships with Cas and Jack are. Dean’s reasoning—“I don’t need to get shaky on this thing”—reveals his fear of losing resolve if he faces them directly. (It's even unlike Lisa, whose goodbye was bittersweet but clean.)

In a nutshell, saying goodbye to Cas and Jack would force Dean to confront the depth of his attachments, making it harder to follow through with his sacrifice. (Or, per the script, it would make Dean himself "too emotional.")

SAM: You know, Mom hates this. I hate this... And Cas and Jack, you haven’t even told them. DEAN: Okay, well, yeah, that’s because I’m not good with the whole big goodbyes, alright? I-I-I don’t need to get shaky on this thing. SAM: Wouldn't be the worst thing.

Overall, Dean fears his resolve will weaken, that his emotions will spill out uncontrollably, revealing more than he intends, or that his goodbye would overburden Cas and cause him strife—because, much like Cas with his Empty deal, Dean doesn’t want to burden him.

Both Dean and Cas share a deeply ingrained sense of self-denial, prioritizing protecting others over addressing their own emotional needs.

I feel like The Gorgon’s line in Ouroboros, “Oh… you definitely want things,” brings this to the surface, as does AU Michael’s taunts. All season long, Michael asked his victims: "What do you want?"

Notably, Dream!Pamela says to Dean: "Why do you always want what you can't have?" And finally, AU Micheal's: “If only Dean had used that coffin when he had the chance.”

:(

////

Cas makes Dean want to stay, a feeling that unsettles him precisely because of how powerful it is. Perhaps, it stirs up frustration because it's something he can't seem to control, even after all this time.

This is a frustration that Dean largely directs at himself, but I think it occasionally spills over into his interactions with Cas because of the vulnerability Cas represents. (Note: All this isn't even factoring in Cas's well-meaning attempts to shield Dean, which winds up making Dean feel shut out.)

///

And of course... all hail 2x20.

John instilled hero virtues in Dean by teaching him that sacrifice and duty were part of being a hero/family caretaker, even at the cost of his own happiness. This mindset is clear in Dean’s painful reflection, where he questions why he has to carry the burden of saving others while his own life and the lives of his loved ones are sacrificed:

DEAN (to John): "Course I know what you'd say. Your happiness for all those people's lives, no contest. Right?" But why? Why is it my job to save these people? Why do I have to be some kind of hero? (begins to cry while talking) What about us, huh? What, Mom's not supposed to live her life, Sammy's not supposed to get married?  Why do we have to sacrifice everything, Dad? (pause) It's... (Dean's lips tremble. Silence. We hear the sky rumbling. Tears begins to falls on DEAN's cheek.)

[overtake]

A soft Maxiel Christmas moment | 2k (also on ao3)

CWS: mpreg and the canonical bodily terror of pregnancy

Daniel stares straight ahead at the faux crackling fireplace, his swollen feet propped as close as he can manage without risking them melting off with residual heat. Outside, there’s no majestic snowfall. It’d started briefly yesterday, and for a single minute, with the world a quiet white blanket outside their frosted windows, he felt a moment of peace and sanity.

It’d gone as quickly as it’d come. The temporary relief of fresh snow quickly faded to grey piles and puddles inside pot holes. They’d had to run to the store for last minute items, and Daniel’s mood had quickly soured with every step of his new boots through the slushy squelch. They were brand new for this season, a size up and wider than his old ones because his feet are too fucking big to wear what he already has, and he needed to pad them out because his ankles hurt constantly.

A warm shiver wracks its way through Daniel’s insides, like a hot fan coil has replaced his spine and is boiling his blood from the inside out. He throws off his wool blanket in frustration and tries to heave himself up. Unfortunately, all that brings him is a loud groan before he collapses back into his spot, suddenly sweating and ready to smash every single item in this stupid fucking house to smithereens once he figures out how to stand up again.

He pants for half a second, then uses his hands to shimmy himself along the couch until he’s as far away from the electric fireplace as he can reasonably manage.

Then, all at once, his body’s internal heater shuts off and leaves him shivering again.

“Oh fuck off,” he groans to his round belly. He doesn’t want to grouch at his unborn baby. There are all these studies about when the baby can hear them and how they react to their parent’s mood. It’s why Max says good morning to it before he helps Daniel out of bed. He’ll reverently kiss the bump three times before he leans up to give Daniel four kisses so, “You don’t think I love you less than I love baby.”

That’s what he calls it, baby. They’ve been in gridlock over the name for three months, and Daniel’s argument that he’s the one carrying the back pain and morning sickness falls on deaf ears because Max absolutely fucking hates his name choices. Maybe Daniel didn’t start off great by intentionally antagonizing him with the boy’s name of Dale and waxing poetic about Dale Earnhardt, but Max gave it right back to him by pretending he’d name a child after his father. Safe to say, pregnancy hasn’t brought out the best in them from time to time.

When they’d clasped hands tightly and watched the pregnancy test develop, both pretending they were doing something more dignified than staring at a cup of piss in Max’s plane toilet, Daniel had pictured pregnancy to be full of beautiful moments, some sort of film montage of kitchen dancing and 3d scans and tiny baby shoes.

He hadn’t been totally naive. Michelle had the worst morning sickness through both her pregnancies, and Victoria did not shy away from complaining about all the cruelties her children unleashed on her digestion, hair, and even her nose. Daniel had panic googled that one and immediately regretted it. The last thing he needed on his face was for his nose to get even bigger.

Max had just laughed when he expressed his concerns and kissed the curve of his nose, reassuring Daniel that he’d want him even if it fell right off.

So he knew there’d be hard parts, but he reassured himself that Max being there and the promise of their family together would be enough.

Instead, he’s awake at 4 a.m. on Christmas because he’s gassy and in too much pain to sleep, and the soft snores he used to love from Max made him want to claw off his ears and tear out his hair. He’s constantly overstimulated. Their cunt doctor kept saying things about how geriatric pregnancies are even harder on the body until Daniel refused to keep seeing him if he said the word geriatric one more fucking time.

Worse still, he was banned from flying home. They’d had a whole plan, with Daniel flying out just before it’d be too late term to make such a trip, so he could be around his family until the season ended and Max could join him back in Australia. He’d have a summer Christmas and let their baby be born in his country before he had to take his little family back to Monaco for the new season. It was planned impeccably.

Then the doctors started heming and hawing at his last scan before he left and told him that flying would be a major risk, especially such a long distance. This time, they were wise enough not to add anything about his age.

So now his whole family and Max’s are in a giant ski cabin, taken away from Monaco and the cats so they could all fit in one home, and Daniel had to sit through a 7 hour car ride that turned into 10 with all his toilet stops.

The worst part of all of this is that Max is so patient with him. He massages Daniel’s feet and knows how to tease him about the swelling without hurting Daniel’s feelings. He rubs stretch mark cream on Daniel’s bump, even though he thinks they’re cool and likes to run his fingers up and down the white marks, because he knows Daniel hates them but is too tired to prioritize putting cream on his stomach every day on top of keeping this baby alive. He’s going to be the best dad, and Daniel has to sit grumpy with the knowledge that he’s the pregnant buzzkill ruining Christmas and resenting the child that Max loves more than anything.

He must nod off at some point, because he wakes up vertical on the couch with his head in Max’s lap and a blanket tucked neatly around him to form a Daniel burrito. Max has his feet propped up on the coffee table and is playing classical music, a constant these days because he followed some Instagram parenting accounts that claim it’ll make your baby smart. Daniel’s skeptical, but god knows the baby could use any boost it could get because Daniel’s not handing down much in the way of school smarts.

The house is still silent around them, but light is starting to creep in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It highlights the silver ring on Max’s finger when Daniel pauses his movements and pulls Max’s hand to his mouth to press a kiss onto the cool metal. His matching one sits around his neck these days, his fingers too constantly varying in size to cover the tan line on his finger. It used to make him bitter to look at Max flaunting the ring Daniel can’t wear, but with some sleep in his system, he feels slightly less like the Grinch.

“Merry Christmas,” Max beams when Daniel lands his kiss and he registers that Daniel’s awake. “I’m going to help your mum make breakfast in a minute, but she’s getting you some cocoa and a moment to ourselves first.”

Max takes one thick finger and carefully thumbs the sleep out of Daniel’s eyes. Daniel’s body is too weighed down by foggy warmth and Max’s love to muster a response. Instead, he turns his face into the meat of Max’s thigh, dutifully clad in the matching pajamas his sister had brought for the whole group, and huffs out a hot breath he hope expresses his gratitude.

Max leans over him to kiss the bump good morning and wish it a, “Merry first Christmas.” Daniel can’t help a spark of warm satisfaction that Max said Merry Christmas to him first, then a flash of guilt and embarrassment that he’s competing with his unborn child on today of all days. Max thinks it’s funny, but Daniel tries to keep most of the thoughts internal.

“I have a gift for you,” Max says. His whole body is curled sideways over Daniel’s so his head can rest on the bump, and he rubs at it absentmindedly.

Daniel raises his eyebrows. “I should hope so. It’s Christmas.”

Max laughs, his crinkly-eyed joyous one that’s lived permanently on his face since they saw the plus sign, but also maybe since the day they both said I do.

“This one is very special,” he says, then dislodges Daniel’s head from his lap for a second so he can fish something out of his pocket and place it into Daniel’s waiting hand.

It’s not wrapped, so Daniel can see it immediately. It’s a picture ornament, small but ornate. The gilded frame showcases Daniel’s bump in the pregnancy photoshoot Victoria had insisted upon. She’d promised Daniel that pregnancy feels like shit for nine months, but you still regret all the moments you didn’t document. Daniel had tolerated about thirty minutes of it and refused to look at the pictures after, but he knows Max loved them. He had them printed and put in a special book, and he’d promised Daniel that he’ll keep it hidden until Daniel’s ready.

“I thought we agreed—“ Daniel says, but the words die out when he reads the little writing at the bottom.

“Joseph/Delilah’s First Christmas,” it reads. Stupidly, Daniel feels himself begin to well up.

“I’m not naming our child Dale,” Max says, wagging a finger in Daniel’s face and giggling when Daniel tearily bites at it. “But Delilah is a close for a girl, I think. And I would probably not name a baby after my dad, but yours.” He shrugs. Daniel’s dad is obsessed with Max. The two of them spent half of winter break fixing up an old motorcycle the first time Daniel had brought him home, and whatever happened in that garage had formed a tight bond between them.

When Daniel doesn’t answer, Max adds, “We can also do Grace, but then it feels like we’re picking a mother, and that’s not nice.”

Daniel clutches the ornament tight to his chest and buries his face tighter into Max’s thigh, blinking into the fabric and letting his tears soak Rudolph’s nose into a damp, dark red.

“Thank you,” he says wetly. He sniffles, then steals Max’s sleeve to wipe his nose with the corner of it. Max doesn’t even reprimand him for it. He’s too busy staring down at Daniel with his gentle, sweet lips tugged into a smile, then pursing them to warn Daniel of an incoming kiss once Daniel’s slightly less snotty.

“I know pregnancy has been really hard,” Max says. His head hovers right over Daniel’s, even though it must be killing his neck to crane it that way. “I love you for not divorcing me for doing this to you.”

Daniel shakes his head. “Hey, there’s a week or two left to go. Don’t count your chickens.”

He pauses, takes in Max’s face. He runs the hand still holding the ornament down the prickle of stubble dotting his soft chin, pokes the freckle decorating his pink lips, admires the morning sun glaring off yesterday’s fallen snow and making Max’s hair glow golden. “Pregnancy has been shit, and I complain a lot, but I’m really excited to be a dad with you. Thank you for this.”

His voice breaks off at the last words, and Max kisses him again. His mouth is cozy like the fireplace heat, and they break into still-kissing giggles when the baby does what feels like a flip of excitement under Max’s resting hand.

Daniel’s mum is probably moments away from interrupting their moment. The kids are all going to be awake any minute now to start tearing into presents, and Daniel will probably be back to being grumpy and overstimulated within the hour.

He pushes what’s to come aside and cuddles into his husband’s loving arms and lets himself feel temporarily alight with gratitude.

(“So it might not even be a boy, but you still get all the credit of having maybe named a child after him?” Michelle hisses later, smacking Daniel’s arm as their dad hugs Max and cries. “Dickhead. Was it not enough to become a millionaire racing driver? You’re not invited for Christmas next year.”)

[dracaelus]

I have this hc that Bruce started letting his hair grow after his parents died. 

It wasn't a conscious choice; it's just that in the months following their deaths, no one remembered something as simple as his hair appointment. 

Then, Bruce kept seeing his photos all over the city—the photos they took of him the night his parents died, his face covered in blood and tears. Even worse, he saw the other pictures: the ones from back when his parents were alive, the ones where he was smiling at them, the ones where he looked happy. His uncle made sure the press didn't get a single picture of him after he saw the ones they took that night, so they kept posting "new" old pictures just to keep things fresh every time they talked about the Waynes — which they did a lot. Bruce looked at those photos and kept thinking to himself, 

"That's not me." 

He felt light-years away from the kid in the pictures. Bruce hadn't felt like himself since that night. He didn't know who he was now, but he wasn't him. In fact, he didn't even look like him. 

He couldn't remember the last time he smiled. He had bags under his eyes — the kind he'd only ever seen in grown-ups — because he kept having these stupid nightmares every time he tried to sleep. He didn't have his parents with him anymore. And his hair was longer, bc his mom wasn't there to notice and take him to her hairdresser. 

Everything changed. 

His entire life changed. 

And somewhere along the way, his hair became the only proof he had of this. 

So when someone, likely Alfred, finally realized how long his hair had gotten and tried to give him a haircut — to put it lightly, Bruce didn't take it well. He screamed and kicked and ran, and — most importantly — when they managed to cut a lock of his hair, he cried. He cried like he hadn't cried since that night. He sobbed so hard he almost threw up. 

So they let him keep his hair like that. 

And it kept growing. 

It was hard for him to explain why it was so important to him that his hair remained untouched. 

He didn't even care for it — he made no effort to take care of it and only bothered to brush it so it wouldn't look bad enough that someone would try to cut it again. 

It got even more neglected after he started on his journey around the world — there was no threat of anyone cutting it, so Bruce didn't have to worry about keeping it decent. 

When he met Minhkhoa, he was also wearing his hair long. At first, Khoa didn't think much about Bruce's hair, but after seeing how little effort he put into taking care of it, he asked why he didn't just cut it and keep it short.

Bruce's mistake was genuinely trying to explain. 

He talked about how it was a reminder of his parent's death and how part of him was disgusted by the idea of going back to how he was before they were gone. He told him how different and wrong he felt after their deaths and how the thing that scared him the most wasn't the idea that things would never get better, but rather the possibility of returning to how he was when they were still alive, as if their loss simply never happened. Worst of all, he talked about how in a sad way, his long hair reminded him of their absence because it showed no one was taking care of him. 

The tricky thing about his relationship with Khoa is that every once in a while, Bruce would say things about himself and unknowingly trigger a "self-recognition through the other" reaction in Khoa — something Khoa didn't like and almost always led to fighting. 

So they fought. 

Khoa responded to his vulnerability by saying a lot of mean things to Bruce, and then the fight got physical. 

Khoa went to a hairdresser that same day and got his hair cut — something he hadn't thought of doing since leaving home. He eventually learned to cut his hair himself and took special care of it, just to show Bruce how ridiculous he was for thinking he needed to let his hair grow messy and unkept just bc he didn't have a stupid adult to take care of it for him — unlike Bruce, Khoa was more than capable of taking care of himself without help from anyone.

He also tried to cut Bruce's hair in a fit of rage, but his rage wasn't quite as strong as Bruce's. He fought him like a demon, and the fight ended after Bruce bit him so hard it left a scar Khoa carried for many years after. 

Khoa didn't try cutting it again, but every once in a while, when they were at the same place and on good terms — a rarity — he would take care of Bruce's hair. He would untangle the thousands of knots, brush it out, wash and moisturize it until it looked good and felt nice to touch. As a show of trust (or guilt for the bite), Bruce sometimes let him trim the ends. Khoa did this mostly out of pettiness and as a strange and convoluted way of mocking Bruce for his irrationality — but deep down, it was also bc he cared for Bruce, and he could take care of him, couldn't he see that?

Bruce finally cut his hair before going back to Gotham. 

By then, years had passed since his parents' death, and he wasn't afraid anymore. He had made a decision, one that would tie him to them forever, and he didn't need his hair as proof of the transformation he had undergone. He knew what he had become now. 

He cut his hair in the same style he wore in his youth, and when he looked in the mirror, there were still no traces of the kid in those photos. 

He wasn't him anymore.

In fact, he didn't even look like him.

[sn0wp1anets]

hi im back this is worded so well i love this . sorry op im now going to be insane for a moment.

yeah scotts actions in liml are so.. genuinely wild like objectively at this point in the series joel is not the biggest threat to worry about. honestly joel shouldnt have been on scotts kill radar at all THEY WERE ALLIES. grian- joels close ally- who is also part of this pretty strained giant alliance is a much more logical target- grian is getting an insane amount of kills hes a much bigger threat, is one of the people with most time etcetc and ik grians being like 'friendlier' atp but all im saying is. there is no reasonable rationale behind joel being the target for scott starting like. a basically serverwide manhunt. also joels had like 3 series ended by scott i think about this Alot. and idk joel having a thing against scott seems at least partially justified to me. scott in like every series has large and stable alliances and alot of gear and also is good at the life series (like. all aspects of it. pvp social game self preservation whatever) i feel like targeting scott is not too far from the idea of just taking down the biggest threat or even people with most lives/people with totems etcetc

also . scott having a whole 'omg look!! evil joel out to get me!!' is not new at all. look at fucking kingdomcraft. i mean like early to midgame kingdomcraft joel and scott were very much committing atrocities against each other thats fine but at the end you actually cannot convince me that joel even gives a fuck about anything other than building and decorating pretty villain bases which scott just like blows up (obviously normal because . factions. but the scale and sheer insanity of the final villain base is honestly crazy and like. joels series just like ends randomly. like in his final video the base is fine and he never made another one again. hello . ) idk scotts just much more petty and vindictive towards joel in kingdomcraft even though joels worst actions are completely unrelated and shouldnt be offensive to him . like joel just blows up alot of the desert thats not even scotts biome. and like.. wow! scott using irrelevant and flawed reasoning to target joel repeatedly where have we seen this before!! oh wait like half of the life series

on the topic of joel's rivalry with scott; wasn't LL!scott's kill justified on Joel, though? I feel like since Joel created so much chaos, Scott wanting to kill him and actually doing so makes sense. and in Limited life, wasn't Scott killing Joel fair again, since Joel kept trying/killing Scott? genuinely curious! I'm also a Joel fan and I agree w/your point on scott, but I feel like, while it was frustrating for joel to die to scott like that, it made sense (?)

(I'm sorry anon because I trust that you are genuinely curious and I'm trying desperately to put aside my bewilderment because I strongly disagree haha, if I sound mean please just take it as me being a very passionate Joel enjoyer please...)

Joel didn't get a single kill on Scott in LimL. Did he lead the charge? Barely. Everyone was going after Scott by the time that Joel was as well. He was no more responsible for going after Scott than half the rest of the server. The only notable kill Joel has gotten on Scott was in DL and Scott never references back to it so it's not like he's holding a grudge from that, whatever his reasons are for labelling Joel as deserving of being killed pretty much 6 times in a row, 5 of which were him, resulting in Joel's permadeath, are faulty at best. Joel legitimately has not done anything to Scott that others aren't also guilty of, Scott's insistence of having Joel dead really comes out of nowhere and the sheer magnitude of it is difficult to reason even disregarding that fact

In Last Life, yeah, I don't really care about that, that was standard death game happenings. The other instance I've been referring to instead has been Secret Life where Scott shares this similar sentiment he has in Limited Life as he kills Joel's second to last remaining teammate, and then him immediately afterward whilst taunting him about it. Just leaves a significantly terrible taste in my mouth following LimL. Joel did try and go after Scott in SL but largely only because of a task to do so. He was very happy to do it but he has never once succeeded, not even in Wild Life. Scott keeps putting Joel down and painting this image of him being deserving of his downfall when 1. Joel hasn't even tried to harm him in any notable way that Scott has referred back to until after this started and 2. he has never actually succeeded in harming Scott in any notable way after this started. And yet still Scott keeps referring to how Joel is after him for some strange reason that he can't possibly figure out, taking opportunities to taunt him and making him sound like a nuisance to his backside that he did nothing to deserve. It's incredibly frustrating when there's no justification I can see for the amount of loss he's caused for Joel in complete nonchalance. He spreads the idea that Joel is just evil and crazy (even though I'm sure he isn't even convinced of it himself, it's just beneficial for him) and should be put down like an animal for everyone's benefit and he's good at swindling people in that way to enforce his own version of events and beliefs however little water they actually hold

[cherryssodapop]

Billy Hargrove astrology chart analysis

Though I could be wrong about the time, the aspects are pretty much the closest I’m gonna get (Unless somehow Dacre or the Duffers have released the information of Billy’s birth time and I just don’t know. I punched in 'March 29, 1967 11:06 AM San Diego USA' my fellow astrology baddies do what you will with this information Either way the main planets SHOULD stay the same but his houses might be different BUT we’re proceeding with what we have!).

Now, mind you I haven't done this in a while, I'm SUPERRR outta practice so to my fellow astrology baddies if I miss anything I'm so sorry 😭.

Alr lets get into it, same as the readings I did for Dallas and Darry I'm gonna go by planet and house and basically explain what it all means.

Sun in Aries (in 10th house) - okay so this is so interesting because even prior to me calculating his chart, I always knew Billy was some sort of fire sign, I mean, LOOK AT HIM??? Like HE'S a fiery little cracker (hahaha cracker... I'm sorry im jk I love u B).

But anyways the sun in 10th house is really interesting, I found a post on here that really explained in depth that aspect and how it affects the natal person (Post here) Basically, people with this placement crave recognition, they stand out with confidence and charisma that often draws attention towards them without fail (we see this the second he arrives at Hawkins, he draws attention towards himself immediately). They naturally gravitate toward leadership roles, even if they didn't ask for it (everyone gravitated towards him and put him on the pedestal of being the "King" and dethroning Steve from the social hierarchy). Their drive for validation stems from fragile self-esteem, leading to feelings of underappreciation despite their efforts. Failures can be deeply personal, like they take failure personally and it affects them greatly, but their ambition and resilience pushes them to rise again, embracing challenges as part of the path to success (started working full time the second he graduated so he could work towards leaving his abusive father).

But back to his sun though, Aries is so interesting because that's so accurate???? Like he's intense, he's passionate. He's very straight forward and will say what he has to say with his chest. People tend to follow him around where he goes, Aries are leaders. They can be spontaneous and impulsive. Stubborn but also a bit reckless. These people are your typical "act before think" people, but like who doesn't love a little chaos 🤪. They're ruled under Mars so this sign is all about action and getting shit done. They'll talk their shit and rock your shit, so messing with them isn't really a good idea. But if an Aries likes you they can be a lot of fun. They're very energetic and active people. You'll be anything but bored with them.

now onto his cutesy little moon

scorpio moons are have my heart because they're so sensitive and emotional, that often it's overwhelming even for them let alone an outside person.

People with Scorpio moons often have traumatic childhoods especially his being in 5th house, so probably exposed to big dramatic fights, or the conflict or circumstances were very grand and outrageous (bro kinda witnessed his mom get beaten by Neil and in turn gets beat himself now that he's older). At the same time these are very strong and enduring individuals. Because they tend to always think about the worst possible scenario, have a very cynical and distrusting view on the world. But at the same time, let's not forget, they are water signs, so that sensitivity will always be there, deep down this sign is scared of being alone. There will always be a part of them that will crave intimacy, like true, deep, raw (lol) intimacy. However because of this deep desire, these people can also often be a little.... delulu per say. Like obviously once you've lost a scorpio moons respect they will immediately cut you out like literally, they will treat you like your dead. But Scorpio being the sister sign of Taurus and being a fixed sign, it would take a lot for a scorpio moon to leave like they will put up with A LOT, which is why they often can get taken advantage of in relationships (:/// ). So yea scorpio moons need to be protected and wrapped up in a blanket with some hot coco and be kissed on the forehead.

Moving onto his Mercury (smiles in mercurian dominant myself)

I find this so interesting because on one hand pisces mercurials can be really wise and intelligent (being the last and oldest of the zodiac), these people can have an "old soul" type of mentality so I can totally see them being into topics like philosophy, spirituality, creative arts, anything to really boost their imagination. his 9th house boosts this even more since 9th falls under sagittarius which is all about philosophy and teaching. Because of this, often people with this placement are really good writers. (so I totally agree with the head cannon of Billy secretly writing poetry, and being good at playing games like dnd).

This placement often gets mislabeled as "dumb" or "ditsy" but they're not stupid they just process information slower than most people.

These people are also really good liars. Like they're some manipulative lil bitches (we saw how he lied to mrs. wheeler that he was worried about Max when he was actually raging mad.) They'll lie about almost anything. Sometimes they do it to keep peace around people and avoid conflict and to get people to leave them alone. But yea this placement certainly has a silver tongue innit, helps them get away with stuff but it also means they're really good at rizzing people with their words; speaking of...

our boy over here has a Taurus Venus. like first of all, this comes with so many pluses because Venus is right where it belongs. Taurus is ruled by Venus so this planet is right in its home sign. So my boy is a romantic lil bachelor 😜. Now his mars kind of makes him a fuckboy (most scorpio and sagittarius mars' are but the difference is is that sags often can't tell the difference between love and lust so they just pursue the person anyway whereas scorpio mars' are just horny fucks with strong game) BUT once he finds someone he wants to be in a relationship with, ouuuu girl he's such a gem.

Taurus Venus's value things like stability, security and comfort. He will very much pamper you. He'd give you the best he humanly possibly could. Taurus's are all about luxury and savouring the physical pleasures of life. He WILL be super affectionate, gifting you things, always touching you right, buying you or cooking you your favourite foods. Taurus's like routine so he will memorize your schedules and routines, coffee orders and all those small things. Although Billy would typically be impatient, he'd take his time pursuing you. Especially with his Scorpio Mars, he'd come in strong and steady .I don't wanna say like a predator stalking his prey cause that's more Scorpio Venus but bro definitely wouldn't back down easy. He won't mind playing the long game if he thinks you're worth it. The main thing here with this placement is their ACTIONS say a lot about their feelings towards their s/o. His Pisces Mercury will soothe you with sweet words, but his Taurus Venus will show you with his generosity and sensualness. He definitely knows how to make his girl happy and will stay loyal for a long time if he's certain about her.

Billy has so many aspects that indicate strong sex appeal and attractiveness, like it's written all over his chart lmfaoo his Venus trines his Pluto, His Venus also sextiles his ascendant.

His eros also trines his mars so he has a very passionate and intense drive, especially in the bedroom. No matter what you are to him, sex with him will always be intense. There's nothing soft about the way he engages in intimacy.

Billy has a cancer rising, for those of you that don't know your rising is in charge of your looks and people's first impressions of you. So cancer risings often have rounder faces, softer features and big eyes (I mean look at him bro, he's so baby girl). They also have curvier bodies (have you seen this man's thighs) shorter limbs too. Cancer rules over the chest so cancer risings can have large chests or big boobs ( he certainly has boobs). Also cancer risings are very pursued after, almost as much as scorpio risings but the difference is that Scorpios are very intimidating so often people don't wanna get past the sexualness of it. But with cancers, people simp over them emotionally too because cancer is considered as the "divine feminine" or "mother" in astrology, so basically people wanna wife them up as well as fuck them (literally his entire fandom). But yeah, anyway, Billy is a pretty boy we all know this, even his chart does 😭.

Alright now more about his mars-

Its in the 4th house, which is also another indication of his abusive childhood :/

His is in Scorpio and yes he's a kinky little shit and a great lover in the bedroom, however that's not all that Mars represents in a natal chart. It also represents how a person takes action to something. How they pursue and how they behave and manage their more aggressive and angry side. On one hand, Billy has the potential to be very good at achieving what he wants in life. He's capable of having a really strong mental fortress as scorpio is a very driven and determined sign. Tactical and calculated but also very loyal people. However at the same time, it makes them lowkey control freaks. They're the type of people to always want the last word in an argument and to have control over everything and everyone in almost every situation (though it does make them strategic leaders at the same time, it's kind of annoying). But yeah these people stand on business they will fuck your shit up if necessary because this planet is also in it's home sign, but Scorpio is also ruled by Pluto so it's the darker one of the mars ruled signs. So their anger can be very explosive and dangerous (we saw how he beat Steve to a bloody pulp), so don't piss them off, it takes a lot for them to loose their cool but once they've lost it, it's gone and not coming back.

Last thing I'll talk about is potential career placements he has because we never got to see him thrive and flourish in life because the duffers hate to give us nice things so I'll just tell you what it could've been with his chart

10 house/ MC in Pisces

So this is so cute because this means that he could actually be successful with a writing career, as this placement flourishes in creative careers. So these people are often musicians, actors, writers. They can also be philosophers, and teachers/mentors of some kind (he taught the kids at the Hawkins community pool how to swim). He'd be such an influencer 😝 I can totally see him being a model for Calvin Klein because he's literally built like a model (this is so possible with his 11th house in Taurus) As well as Leo in his second house, he'd live a very lavish lifestyle if financially stable and would really thrive in a position where he shines in his own spotlight.

Anywayssss that's everything for now, if there's anything else in his chart you guys want me to talk about don't be afraid to inbox me.

I hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing this <3

[thelov3lybookworm]

Weeping Heart (Part 5)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: panic attacks and tears

•○●⛦●○•

Warnings: the beginnings of a panic attack, cardan being sad and frustrated, though i dont go into details. yn running away again, ig. (the next part will include her getting comforted, dw <3 )

Word Count: 1107

A/n: shes a lil late but shes hereee yayyy 🥳

Imp: the next parts will be either posted on friday or next monday, depending on how quick i write. it will be a double update, so everyone whos on team herb can read the herb x reader part and ones on team cardan can read the cardan x reader part. i will add those links to this part when they are uploaded, so if you choose yes, you read the herb part. if you choose no, you read the cardan part.

anyways, enjoy🥹❣️

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Y/n did not mind mornings. She had come across quite a few humans who insisted mornings were the worst time of the day, about how they preferred night.

Most faeries would agree, considering they slept during the day and worked at night. But Y/n, she loved mornings. She could get some peace to herself, some quiet that seemed to betray her when her soldiers, male and female alike, were awake. It was just quiet chatter, but it still got on her nerves sometimes.

Y/n always got herself up a few hours before sunset to have some time to herself, to practise her fighting skills, to think.

Y/n also knew Cardan liked to sleep. Most of the time, he had no option but to sleep off his hangovers after drinking the whole night, but even when that wasn't the case, he would never wake up while the sun was still out without a reason.

So when Y/n snuck out of Herb’s tent in the afternoon, the sun beating down on her as she went, it was a huge surprise to Y/n to find Cardan sitting on her bed, wide awake.

She paused at the threshold of her tent, the flap fluttering shut behind her as she processed the sight. "Cardan? You’re up early."

He smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. "Yeah. I’ve been up for some time now." He paused, glancing down at Y/n’s boots. It was a thing he used to do, when he was feeling vulnerable but did not want her to see. "Waiting… for you."

Y/n’s blood slowed in her veins before rushing again, and she sighed, stepping forward and making her way towards the chair in the corner.  "I was sleeping, Cardan."

"Where?" His response was quick, sharp, as if he had been thinking of it since he woke up. It made Y/n freeze in her tracks, her eyes growing slightly wide.

"Uh… in a soldier’s tent?"

He stood. "Why?"

Y/n blinked. "What do you mean why? My bed was occupied, so-"

"So now you can’t even stand my presence?" He laughed.

Y/n stared at him, at a loss for words. She looked at him closely, noting the gauntness in his pale cheeks, he shadows under his eyes.

Sure, he had all those before, but the hollows seemed deeper, the shadows darker. "I never said that, Cardan. And I would never be intolerable to your presence."

He scoffed. "Right, that’s why you’ve been running away and avoiding returning to Insmire for so long."

Y/n sighed, rubbing her face. "It’s nothing against you, Cardan-"

"Then why have you been avoiding me since I arrived?! I’ve been trying to talk to you, I’ve tried so many times! Why are you running away from me?!" He snapped, his voice rising.

And Y/n froze completely.

Cardan never yelled. That was something Y/n had grown up with. No matter what, Cardan never yelled. He would drink, he would party, he would revel, hell, he’d bed people just to forget his frustrations. But he never yelled.

And never at Y/n.

It broke her will to care.

"Because if I don’t, I might just kill myself!"

He stilled, his eyes wild as he stared back at her, his chest heaving. Y/n stepped forward, closer and closer to him. His gaze tracked her movements, almost predatory.

"Do you know, Cardan, how much pain I have been in everyday since I realised that you would never look at me like I look at you?" He said nothing, his eyes wide. "Everyday, I’d put on a smile, act like I have not been in love with you since I understood what love was, and watched as you did all that you did, as you revelled and ruined your own reputation, as you acted like you loved all those females you bedded."

Y/n finally stopped a foot from him, jabbing her finger into his chest, fury blazing in her heart. "I was there as you watched your mother ignore you, I was there to comfort you, I was there as you shattered every time after her rejection. I was there when you wanted Jude, I was right there helping you out with her. I listened to every detail you provided of your love life, trying to hold myself together, and you just couldn’t see it."

Y/n shook her head, smiling. "You could never see it, you were too busy making eyes at others to notice me. And yes, if you’re going to ask me if running away was necessary, yes it was. Because I could no longer bear to watch you be in love with Jude while I stared at you like a lovesick puppy. It was eating me alive from the inside. And I couldn’t tell you about it either, because I saw how in love with Jude you were, and I never wanted to get in the way of your happiness. You know why? Because I care about you, Cardan. I care about you."

He stared at Y/n, looking like he was about to cry as she panted, her blood chilling as she realised what she had just done.

"Y/n, I-"

Y/n stumbled back, her heart beating in her throat.

The beating slowed.

Her hearing diminished.

Or maybe the birds stopped chirping. She didn’t know.

She didn’t care.

This was a panic attack, she was sure of it.

This was the first one she was having in years. The last time was when Y/n had realised she loved Cardan and had almost blurted it out at him, but stopped just before he could hear it, and then he had left with a pretty nymph on his arm.

Even back then, he had not paid any attention to her as he led the female away, already beginning to kiss her before they were even out of sight.

And she had made it a mission that she never had any other panic attacks ever again. And if she did, she’d not create a scene, especially not in front of Cardan.

So she took another step back, her heartbeat thudding in her ears, slow, unsteady, and then turned and sprinted out of her tent, her only focus her horse, Toad.

And the moment the horse was in her arms reach, she swung herself onto the mare’s back and rode away, tears beginning to gather in her eyes.

She heard him calling after her.

Maybe Herb would keep Cardan away. Keep him from following her.

But did she want him to?

No.

Yes.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[rainachaeri]

ramble under the cut because this became too DAMN LONG

OKAY OKAY MAYBE I AM COOL WHATEVER HWKDHQHD

okay but who the hell is hazel tho O.o

I MENTION EATING CRAYONS AND ATHENA GETS DRAGGED INTO IT WHAT HAVE I DONE

and the worst part is she would definitely eat a whole box of it just to compare if the red crayon tasted differently from the blue one and so on

Also dont ask but i ate crayons as a kid and it wasnt as exciting and yummy and mindblowing as I thought it would and i was very disappointed and basing from that Athena would probably feel the same way

I guess she would at least appreciate that it made her teeth colorful LMAO enough that she'll let it be for the whole day even in the morning jog PFTT

AND THE PAPYRI CANT EVEN SHAME HER FOR THIS ONE NOOPEE

because i bet as kids they did it too!! Like cmon!!! Theres just no way they didnt and their brothers probably laughed at them too

I mean, I guess they're only confused why she only tried it now. Like, cmon, athena, you had your own childhood right? Suuuurely you tried is as a kid?

But nope PFFTT

Alice will look at her stupid

Like maybe the morning jog crew would just shrug her off (minus Indigo he'll probably call her an idiot or something and ath may or may not cry about it), but alice will straight up tell her GIRL ARE YOU DUMB and she will laugh at her face HQJDJQJD

Also, I dont think crayons are that toxic that we'd need to drink medicine for it? At most its probably just stomach ache or whatever (not a doctor tho so dont take my word for it)

And Athena would probably let the stomach ache happen just cause she wanna know how it feels

this girl istg

And so she casually beat the Olympic sprint world record in for the sake of her chocolate milk

Last minute comic for @rainachaeri Merry Christmas :)