#and those that are going on spaces and saying they are are living in the same world where Larry are married with children living HEA

[witherby]

Could you make more Damian and mer!Reader? I wanna see them swim together!

Yeah, I can do that! The previous post surpassed 10 reblogs so y'all can have another installment :)

Part 2 of Human!Damian x Mer!Reader

Content: Fluff, Swimming, Language Barrier, Courtship Ritual (unbeknownst to Damian)

Part 1 is Here!

You swim in fast spirals through your enclosure, ducking around seaweed and colorful rocks and the fake castle spire they installed for you to hide in, tail brushing against the rough, stony texture. The lights all dimmed about thirty minutes ago, leaving just the bioluminescent foliage scattered throughout your tank and a few, small overhead lamps to illuminate the space. You know that this means all the Attention Time is done for the day, and that Damian will soon be around for dinner and playtime.

When you feel those familiar disturbances in the water, the gentle swish, swish, swish of your favorite caretaker's hand, you bolt towards it and surface with a splash and a chirp. Damian wipes the water off his face and levels you with an unamused look, which you preen at, and you rest your arms on the lip of the tank.

"Hello to you, too," he greets, holding up your bucket. "It's dinner time. You did great today, as though we could expect anything less than perfection at this point."

You take the bucket and start eating, offering a piece of squid to Damian. He scrunches his nose and politely refuses, so you shove it between your own, razor-sharp teeth instead.

"Visitors asked a lot of questions about you today," Damian says. You register the general idea of what he's talking about — the "visitors" are the creatures that come to stare at you in the funny tunnels. "Two of the tour groups asked if you were lonely, being the only mer we have in the aquarium."

The boy tilts his head, vibrant green eyes unusually pensive as he regards you. You stare back as you chew, the fins on either side of your head twitching. You love staring at his eyes, more vibrant than any foliage in your tank and endlessly entertaining to look at. When he speaks again, you do your best to keep following along.

"I didn't know how to answer them. Mers, from what few we've observed in the wild, travel in pods. You don't exhibit behaviors of loneliness or excessive stress, however; I don't think living here without pod-mates is causing you harm, otherwise we'd see you picking at your fins and scales, or lashing out more violently, or at the very least hiding more often."

You smile. How silly of your caretaker — he is your pod! You socialize with him plenty, even if he can't live in your enclosure with you! You click your tongue and trill, showing him your empty bucket to get the frown off his face.

Damian takes it back with a quick word of praise and dodges your grabby hands when you make to pull him into the water.

"Patience. Let me change into the wetsuit, okay, Princess?"

You perk up and chirrup with glee. You know that word! He's going to come into the tank and play!

Damian disappears through a set of doors several yards away from the edge of your tank. You slip under the water to rehydrate your gills, floating aimlessly for a few minutes. When you surface again, Damian is standing on the edge of your tank in a black wetsuit with a small apparatus on his face. After an accident (and it was an accident, you promise! How were you supposed to know the land creatures couldn't breathe water the same way you did?) where you almost drowned Damian trying to play with him, he showed up a few days later with the suit and small face-thing that you learned was important not to pull off of him.

You whistle and trill, arms extended in delight. Damian's eyes crinkle just slightly around the edges, as he can't smile around the rebreather, and he lets his body tip forward into your waiting arms.

You splash into the water together, squeezing him in a tight hug, then draw back to grab his hand and pull him along. Damian allows it, kicking the flippers on his feet to help propel him along, though they're no match for your huge tail.

Playtime always starts with you dragging Damian to the bottom of your tank, either to show him the latest way you've arranged your collection of colorful rocks, or to find a gift for him. Sometimes you give him a rock, sometimes you give him a piece of foliage, and once you gave him a loose brick taken from your castle spire (he put that one back).

Today, you release his hand to dart into your seaweed nest, pawing around until you find what you're looking for, then pop back out and press it into his hands. Damian's eyes go wide, clutching the small handful of shredded scales you passed over with the delicateness one would use to cradle a baby.

Mers tended to have hoarding tendencies, especially for shiny things. Your myriad of painted stones and other aquatic-safe decorations were proof of that. In the wild, shedded scales were kept and used as further decoration for a nest, or placed around the entrance of their home so it could be easily identifiable. To see you hand him what is typically considered a valuable resource to your species...

Well, he's nothing short of flattered. You must care for him a great deal to be willing to part with your scales.

He signs Thank You under the water and carefully tucks the gift into a bag on his hip, since the wetsuit has no pockets. You grin back and twirl around him, bumping him a bit with your tail. Damian can just barely make out the sound of you trilling under the water as you bump him back and forth a couple times, a behavior you've never exhibited before. He bumps you back, which makes you trill even louder. It's fascinating.

When you're done, you circle Damian a few times, chittering and chirping, then gently shove his shoulders and take off like a bullet through the water, off to find a space to tuck yourself into for hide and seek. You can't play tag with him, it's never fair, but other games like this are easily adaptable between the two of you, especially given that your enclosure spans several floors of the building.

As you dart across your expansive tank looking for a place to slip into, you can't fight the giddy little skip in your heart. Damian accepted your scales! He accepted them and thanked you! You're so happy he accepted your proposal to be mated!

-----

Thanks for your support! Reblogs = more content!

[am-i-interrupting]

Across the River | Viktor x Jinx’s Older Sibling

Chapter 5: Defying the Laws

Summary: After the explosion and disappearance of Vi, you take your little sister across the river to Piltover. You struggle to keep the two of you afloat but manage to get Jinx to the academy. This is where she procures an internship that changes your lives.

Five months into her assistant career is what it took before Jinx saw the beginnings of Hextech. Jayce had been the one to offer to show her what Hextech looked like in practice after realizing that she’d only been practicing in theory.

Viktor shocked his head with a small smile when Jayce brought out the stabilizer they’d made those many years ago. Now tweaked to better preform than it once had.

Jinx was the one who laid the orb into the contraption. It slipped from her fingertips and caught in her long nails before she gently let it plop into place.

Jayce turned the dial and it sparked to life before the room engulfed in blue for a moment. It twinkled out as things began floating.

“Turn it off,” Viktor said almost as soon as the room went back to its natural coloring.

“What?”

Viktor gestured towards Jinx’s. Her eyes were wide but not in the excited way more so in the hallowed, haunted way.

Her breathing was labored. It huffed out harshly. Like she’d been running for miles without a break.

Jayce quickly shut off the device. While Viktor and Jayce landed in their original places with grace, Jinx fell to the ground.

Her knees took the brunt of the fall as her hands came up to her head. She stared off into space.

“Jinx,” Jayce said softly as he approached her, his hand extended.

“No,” she said, voice cracking, “no.” Her head tipped forward against the ground. “It was a mistake.”

Jayce’s hand pressed against her shoulder. She bolted up and jerked away like he’d just slapped her. Tears were prickling at her eyes, waiting to fall.

“It was a mistake,” she repeated right before they fell.

She kept repeating the words to herself like a mantra.

“Go get her sister,” Viktor told Jayce.

Jayce looked between the two of them. Viktor gave a soft nod, a silent “I’ve got her.” Jayce bolted out of the door.

“I didn’t mean to,” Jinx said.

Viktor slid down into the floor, using his crutch to make sure he didn’t topple. Slowly, he placed it on the ground.

“I was just trying to help,” she said, a sob beginning to tear through her. “I was going to save them.”

Viktor sat with her on the cold floor.

The door to the shop didn’t normally open unless someone was getting something fixed or picking it up. It certainly never chimed open followed by hurried footsteps of someone who’d been running.

You looked over the automobile you were working on and saw none other than Jayce Talis looking frantic. Immediately you were on your feet.

“Jinx,” he said, “she needs you.”

“Kash, I’m gone!” you yelled as you ran to the door.

“Wait—“

“Jinx,” was all you said.

“Go,” Kash said, granting his permission. Not that you needed it.

It felt like it took forever to get to the Academy. Only when you were anxiously waiting in the elevator did you ask what happened.

“I don’t know,” Jayce said. “We were showing her some stuff with Hextech and she just started freaking out.”

“Shut up,” Jinx said in a quiet voice despite Viktor not saying a thing. “I was trying to save you!” Her head whipped around to behind her shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Such a stark contrast to the yell that had just ripped through her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It was a mistake.”

It was then that the door opened. Viktor didn’t turn to see who it was though from the sound of the footsteps, Jayce was certainly there so the other pair were bound to be you.

“Hey,” you said as you dropped to your knees next to Viktor and Jinx. “What’s wrong?”

“They won’t stop yelling,” Jinx said.

You extended your arms to her and she leaned into them. You cradled her close. You took out the pins in her hair and her braids fell down.

“You did nothing wrong,” you told her.

“I jinxed it,” she said through sobs wracking through her body. “I always do.”

“You don’t jinx anything.”

She kept muttering. You began to rock her. Softly shushing her before you began to sing.

“Dear friend, across the river

My hands are cold and bare

Dear friend, across the river

I’ll take what you can spare”

You continued on as Jinx’s sobs slowly began to fade.

“Mom,” she said.

She curled her arms tighter around you and stuck her face between your neck and shoulder. She didn’t care that she got axle grease on her skin. Your purple blue hair covered her face in a blanket of security.

She shaking it joined your soft singing.

“I ask if you a penny

My fortune it will be

I ask you without envy”

Viktor raised his head and looked up at Jayce. Jayce met his gaze.

There was clearly much neither new about their assistant. Much to learn. Careful waters to tread.

What had happened to this young woman? What had happened to the both of you? Why such an adverse reaction? So many questions and no answers.

It took a while before Jinx’s breathing went even and her eyes fell closed. Her hands that had a death grip on your clothes went lax.

“Show me what happened,” you said.

Viktor and Jayce shared a glance. Inhaling deeply, Jayce picked up Jinx from your grasp. He walked over to a small door that led to their break room of sorts. Inside was a couch that he laid her on.

Viktor stood and walked over to the stabilizer. He waited until Jayce clicked the door shut to begin fiddling with the dials.

The same series of events happened as the first time earlier in the day.

“Good job—“

One, two, three explosions.

“Claggor!”

A hand pushed you. Just as something few where you had been. The space now taken up by your friend. His goggles were knocked off his face. Blood splattered against them as you were thrown through the hole in the wall.

You fell down. At a rapid speed. Your head smashed into the pavement. Something was coming toward you from above. You tried to move out of the way.

Your world went dark.

Your eyes closed. Your jaw clenched. Your hand came up to block your face. You fell against a floor of tiles.

A hand was placed atop your own. Slowly you let it guide your hand away from your face.

A muffled voice surrounded you.

That hand was still on your own. You let it guide you to a firm surface. Up and down it went in a slow, steady rhythm. Your fingers twitched, something bunched beneath them.

You tried to focus on that rhythm. The feel of the soft. . . fabric(?) beneath your hand.

You found yourself wheezing out breathes in harsh huffs. You tried to steady it but the sharp burning behind your nose did nothing to help. Your leg curled up beneath you. You could feel the pain that should be long gone given the several year old scar but it never vanished.

“Breathe in,” a thickly accented voice instructed. “Breathe out. Good. Repeat. Breathe in. Breathe out. Very good.”

You followed the demands of the voice you distantly recognized.

When your eyes opened, you were faced with tiled floors. A pair of legs bent at the knees right beside yours. A white vest and tie against a red shirt. A long, dexterous artist’s hand pressed against yours.

“Are you back with us?” A different voice asked as the accented one continued on.

You nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think so,” your voice felt thick on your tongue. “Whatever that was, don’t show it to Powder again.”

“Powder,” the accented voice, which you now processed as belonging to Viktor, repeated. His voice curled nicely around the name.

You shook yourself. “Fuck. Jinx. Don’t show it to Jinx again.” You took a few more steadying breaths. “Whatever else you’ve been doing with Hextech, sure, but not that.”

“Can you explain what just happened?” Jayce asked.

“That,” you pointed to the contraption, “killed our family.”

Jayce and Viktor looked at each other, both with furrowed eye brows.

“How did. . .” Viktor’s voice trailed off.

“Wait a second,” Jayce muttered to himself. “There were four suspects, two boys and two girls. One with. . . blue hair. Did Jinx steal my prototype?”

“We’ve all stolen from a lot of people,” you said as you stood up. Viktor’s hand steadied your calf and thigh when you wobbled a bit. “I don’t keep track of from who.”

You brushed past Jayce and went directly to the room that held your sister.

“Stolen from a lot of people?” Jayce repeated.

Viktor grabbed his crutch and stood up, accepting Jayce’s offered hand. “You don’t know what it’s like in the Undercity,” Viktor reminded him. “You go home. I’ll stay with them.”

“Are you—“

“Go, Jayce,” Viktor said, a rare authority ringing in his tone. “I’ll stay with them.”

Slowly Jayce gathered his things and headed home for the night. Viktor knocked on the door with soft raps before he opened the door.

You were sitting in the floor, holding Jinx’s hand that hang from the couch in yours. It draped across your shoulder. You looked up at Viktor and then looked away.

He took a seat in the plush chair across from the two of you. He sighed as his aching bones relaxed just the slightest.

“When I was eight, I tried to steal food from some riverside restaurant. I wasn’t fast. I got caught,” he said. “I was ten when I attempted to steal again. It was after my parents died in the mines.”

“Are you trying to make me let my guard? Admit to something I’m not even sure she did,” that was a lie. You did know but no need to tell him that.

He shook his head, his lip went inward a bit as the edges tilted down. “No, no, I’m simply telling you I understand.”

You exhaled through your nose and leaned your head against Jinx’s arm.

Silence came between the two of you. It wasn’t harsh. It wasn’t kind. It just was.

There hasn’t been much silence in your life ever. Not in Piltover. Certainly not in the Undercity. It was nice.

Viktor broke it, “She called you mom. You’re not. . .?”

“No,” you said, voice barely above a whisper, “no. She doesn’t really remember our parents much but mom always smelled like axel grease, she sang that song, and we have the same color hair. When she’s out of it, sometimes she gets confused.”

He hummed. “How often is she ‘out of it?’”

“Often enough that I’m used to her talking to people who aren’t there. It’s rare that it gets this bad though,” you told him.

“And do you?”

“No,” you answered. “What happened happened when she was pretty young. I was lucky enough to be old enough to understand when everything happened, all the time. I guess that’s a benefit to being the oldest.”

“How much older are you?” he asked.

“About eight years, give or take.”

“Your family?”

“All dead. Mom and dad died during the battle at the bridge. I was thirteen, Jinx was five? Vander and. . . our siblings died in an explosion when she was ten.”

“That must have been difficult.”

“I don’t want your pity.”

“You don’t have it,” he said. “I understand. I don’t have siblings but my parents died when I was young. For about a year I was by myself before I was taken in by a man but that didn’t last,” he told you. You met his eyes, golden like honey. “She’s lucky to have you.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” you said.

“It can be both.”

“Thank you for staying with her,” you said. “A lot of people don’t.”

“Of course.”

He said it like it was so easy. Like it was nothing. Like you hadn’t had people yell at you when you were on the streets and she started muttering to herself that you needed to take her to her parents and get her evaluated as she started hitting her head.

He said it like it was simple.

Maybe with him it could be.

[chrystal-ink]

Shadvent calendar Day 24

Shadow x GN Reader

Mistletoe

Shadow was never one for PDA. in fact you two barley held hands whenever other people were around if he could help it. however, tonight the cocktails were flowing and the spirit of Christmas was in the air.

The two of you had managed to miss each other all night. getting wrapped up in conversations with other people, giving out gifts, and avoiding the mistletoe hung ever so delicately in the living room for all to see. You were consciously avoiding it knowing that Shadow did not want to kiss in front of a room full of his closest friends, coworkers, acquaintances, and sonic.

Still he looked so nice in his tux and you knew that he had been eyeing you all night. but attraction or not you were going to respect his boundaries, you would just have to make up for it later.

Shadow on the other hand was craving the touch of your lips right about now. Denied their rightful place upon his earlier in the evening his distain for witnesses was thrown to the wind. You looked incredible tonight and the world needed to know that you were taken, that your lips were for his and his alone.

unfortunately he was caught up in a meaningless conversation with one of his coworker's and he could not get out of it. he had to do something and quick. signaling to Rouge he requested her to get him out of there.

Luckily they had been working together for so long that she understood immediately what he was trying to communicate. Not wasting a moment Rouge swooped into the conversation ending it with grace.

"What do you need Hon?"

"I need to get over to Y/N, I have a matter that needs addressing"

"Is this about those lips you've been staring at all night?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business bat, but yes."

"Fine, I'll help you, but you have to do it over there." She pointed to the mistletoe hanging in the center of the room.

"What? Why?"

"Why? well you two have been together for so long and yet I've never seen the two of you give each other more than a peck. I just want to make sure you're doing it right, for Y/N's sake."

"You are a pain you know that right?"

"Just looking out for you doll."

Shadow weighed his options for a moment, if he tried to make his way across the room he was sure to run into more people and have to engage in more meaningless conversations. it would take at least an hour to get to you, and even then he would have to wait for your conversation to end before he could even attempt to kiss you.

Still to kiss in a crowd was one thing, to do it with everyone watching was another.

He gritted his teeth it wasn't like him to shy away from anything and he wasn't about to start now. He needed your lips and fast so reluctantly he agreed.

"You wont regret this, I promise." Rouge responded happy her little negotiation worked. She took out her phone and texted everyone her plan, all they had to do was get you under that mistletoe by any means necessary.

❄️

You were mid conversation with Amy when her phone went off.

"That's weird who could be texting you right now? everyone we know is here."

"Don't worry about it, it's nothing." she reassured quickly putting her phone away. "Say, why don't we look for some more of those delicious crab puffs I think I saw some over there."

"umm okay, I guess we could."

But before you could actually turn to go the opposite direction Sonic interrupted your conversation.

"Hey Y/N How's it goin? Say, is that cocktail for me? Thanks!" He took your drink and bolted across the room before you even had the chance to react.

"Hey!" you whined before following after him, it was a confined space and with all the people there he couldn't have gotten too far.

You followed him almost to the center of the room before he stopped turning back to you your drink still in his hands.

"What's the big idea? you can't just do that at a party."

"I had it under control Sonic" Amy called finally catching up to the both of you.

"Yah, but I was faster."

"What's going on you two?"

"You'll see." sonic replied "Sorry about this" He gave you a gentle push. Stumbling backward you almost fell thankfully, a pair of hands steadied you before you could reach the floor.

"Hey." shadow looked down at you giving you a handsome smirk.

"Shadow? thanks, but how did you-"

"Everyone! looks like we have our first two lovebirds under the mistletoe!" Rouge announced "Why don't you give them a round of applause?"

You looked up and saw the offending branch right above where you and Shadow were standing.

"Oh no, we don't have to if you don't want. I know you don't really like this stuff." you apologized.

"Don't be ridiculous, It's tradition." Shadow said grabbing you by the chin. "And besides with the way you look tonight I want everyone here to know you're mine."

And with that he kissed you it was passionate, full of love and devotion. he was getting the touch he so craved and he didn't care who saw it.

Once your lips had parted and crowed died down a little you looked into his crimson eyes and smiled.

"You know, you could have just asked for a kiss my love."

"Yes, but I wanted to make this one special."

You giggled placing your hands on his chest.

"Well then love, You accomplished your mission"

You gave him another kiss each of you smiling against the other's lips before rejoining the party hand in hand.

[meazalykov]

baby its cold outside

barcelona femeni x salma paralluelo x finnish!reader requested

summary: the request

merry christmas!!!

the snow crunches beneath your boots as you lead the group toward the log cabin nestled deep in the forests of rovaniemi. 

the cold bites at your cheeks, but it doesn’t bother you. this is home, and it’s always been beautiful no matter how many winters you’ve spent here. you glance back, a grin tugging at your lips as you watch your girlfriend, salma, and your teammates—vicky, martina, sydney, jana, and kika—trying to maneuver through the snow, bundled up in layers upon layers of thick coats, scarves, and hats. 

for most of them, this is their first experience with real snow, and their reactions are nothing short of hilarious.

“i swear, i’ve never seen this much snow in my life, shit i think my eyes are blinded by the brightness” vicky says, her voice muffled by the scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. 

“do people actually live here?” kika mutters, her portuguese nose red from the cold as she tries to step into the packed down path you’re making for them.

you chuckle softly, slowing your pace so they can catch up. 

“yes, kika, people live here. it’s not that bad once you’re used to it.”

“used to it?” martina exclaims, dramatically pulling her gloves tighter. 

“my toes are going numb, and we’ve only been outside for five minutes.”

salma catches your eye, her own lips twitching into a small smile as she shakes her head at the antics of your friends. her cheeks are somewhat flushed from the cold, and the spanish woman tucks a stray strand of her dark hair into her hat. 

even in layers that nearly swallow her whole, she’s beautiful. the sight of her here, in your world, makes your chest feel warm despite the icy air around you.

when you finally reach the cabin, you pause and turn back to them, throwing your arms out. 

“ta-da!” you announce. 

the girls gape at the cabin. it’s exactly what you wanted—cozy yet spacious, its wooden exterior dusted with snow, smoke curling from the chimney, and fairy lights strung along the railings of the porch. a warm glow spills from the windows, promising comfort and warmth inside.

“it looks like it came straight out of one of those christmas movies jill shows me,” jana says, her eyes wide.

“please tell me there’s a fireplace,” sydney adds, stomping the snow off her boots as she makes her way to the door. 

you laugh, grabbing the keys from your pocket and unlocking the door. 

“of course there’s a fireplace, and hot chocolate waiting inside.”

as everyone piles in, kicking off their boots and shedding their layers, you guide salma toward the couch by the fireplace. she sinks into the cushions with a sigh, and you sit beside her, pulling her close under the thick blanket already draped there.

“better?” you ask, tilting your head to look at her.

she nods, resting her head on your chest. 

“much better.”

meanwhile, the others are exploring the cabin, voices echoing through the space. sydney is already inspecting the kitchen, while vicky is pulling an xbox out of her carry-on bag, much to everyone’s confusion.

“you brought an xbox?” martina asks, her tone caught between disbelief and amusement.

vicky shrugs nonchalantly. 

“we have downtime, and fifa’s a must.”

you roll your eyes fondly, turning your attention back to salma.

“so, what do you think? worth braving the cold?”

she leans into you, her dark eyes meeting yours with a teasing glint. “baby, it’s cold outside,” she murmurs, a playful pout on her lips.

you laugh softly, brushing your lips against her temple. 

“yeah, love, we are in finland. what did you expect?”

salma’s laughter is warm and light, and it makes your heart swell. moments like this, with her wrapped up in your arms, make you forget the freezing temperatures and the chaos of bringing your friends to your hometown.

the next morning, you decide it’s time to introduce the girls to some true finnish winter activities. breakfast is a lively affair, with sydney teasing kika about her dramatic reaction to the cold, and martina snapping pictures of the snowy view outside the window. after everyone’s bundled up again, you lead them out to a nearby trail for cross-country skiing.

“okay,” you say, holding up a pair of skis, 

“this is one of my favorite winter sports. it’s not as hard as it looks, i promise.”

your words are met with skeptical stares. salma raises an eyebrow at you. 

“are you sure about that?”

“positive,” you reply with a grin. 

“just watch me.”

“alexia is going to freak out if you come back to barca injured!!” vicky calls out. 

“i won’t, i know what i am doing!” you laugh. 

“we don't!” sydney protests.

you strap on your skis and push off, gliding smoothly over the snow. the wind bites at your face, but it’s exhilarating, the kind of freedom you’ve missed since moving to barcelona. you glance back, expecting to see the others following your lead… instead, you’re met with chaos.

kika is flat on her back, her skis tangled beneath her, while martina tries—and fails—to help her up. jana wobbles dangerously before falling into a snowbank, and vicky is clutching onto sydney for dear life as they both struggle to stay upright. 

salma, to her credit, manages a few awkward glides before losing her balance and landing on her knees.

you can’t help but laugh, the sound echoing through the trees. 

“come on, it’s not that bad!” you call out, stopping to wait for them.

salma glares at you playfully, brushing snow off her gloves. 

“easy for you to say, ms. finnish! you’re a natural.”

“and you will be too, with a little practice,” you tease, skiing back to her. you help her to her feet, your hands lingering on hers for a moment longer than necessary. 

“you’re doing great, though.”

her expression softens, and she leans in close enough for only you to hear. 

“you’re lucky i love you.”

your heart skips a beat, and you grin. 

“i know, and i love you too.”

by the time you all make it back to the cabin, everyone is exhausted but in high spirits. hot chocolate is the first thing on your mind, and you quickly set to work in the kitchen, heating milk and stirring in cocoa powder while salma hovers nearby, sneaking marshmallows from the bag.

when the mugs are ready, you carry them to the living room, where the others are already sprawled out on the couches and floor. vicky has fifa up and running, and the sound of friendly banter fills the room.

you hand a mug to salma and sit beside her on the couch, draping the blanket over your laps. she takes a sip, her eyes fluttering shut as she savors the warmth. 

“delicious,” she murmurs.

you steal a sip from her mug, earning a mock glare. 

“sharing is caring,” you say innocently.

she rolls her eyes but doesn’t protest, leaning against you as you both watch the chaos unfolding around you. kika is yelling at jana for a missed goal, while martina and sydney cheer on their teams from the sidelines.

the xbox, as ridiculous as it was to bring, has brought the perfect amount of holiday cheer to the cabin.

outside, snow begins to fall again, soft and silent. inside, the warmth of the fire and the love of your friends make the cold seem a distant memory. 

you tighten your arm around salma, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“thank you for bringing us here,” she says softly, her voice barely audible over the laughter and shouts of your friends. 

“this is… it’s special.”

you smile, your heart full. 

“you’re welcome, love. i’m glad you’re here to share it with me.”

masterlist

[mcjhay]

If Someone Wants You in Their Life, They'll Make Room for You

If someone truly wants you in their life, they'll make room for you—no excuses, no hesitation, no hesitation in finding space for you. It's not about the time they have or the things they think are more important. If they really care, they'll prioritize you and find a way to fit you into their world. People often say they're too busy, too tired, or too caught up in their own lives, but the truth is, we always make room for the things and people that matter most. When it comes to love, connection, and meaningful relationships, it's not about having the perfect circumstances, it's about choosing to create the time and space for each other.

We all lead busy lives, filled with obligations, responsibilities, and ambitions. But there's something beautiful and powerful about making space for someone in your heart and in your daily existence. It's not a matter of convenience-it's a matter of intention. When someone values you, when they see your worth, they'll naturally make the effort to integrate you into their life, to show you that you matter to them, not as an afterthought but as an essential part of their journey. They'll create time for your conversations, make plans to spend time together, and move things around to ensure they stay connected to you.

If they want you in their life, they'll make room even when the world feels busy and chaotic. They'll find ways to include you in their day-to-day, even if it means shifting some priorities, because they recognize your importance. Relationships, whether romantic, familial, or friendships, are not meant to be an afterthought or something that fits into a leftover gap in someone's life. True love, friendship, and connection are built on the foundation of mutual respect, effort, and a willingness to make space, even when life doesn't seem to slow down.

It's so easy to get caught up in the idea that we are just one part of someone's busy world, but the reality is, the right people will always make room for you. They'll carve out moments in their day to check in, to see how you're doing, to show that you matter to them. They'll adjust their schedules to accommodate you because they understand that relationships are about sharing time, experiences, and a willingness to be there for each other, even when it's inconvenient.

It's important to remember that love is not something you should have to chase. If someone truly cares about you, they will find a way to make space for you, to keep you in their life despite everything else that may be going on. When someone truly wants to be with you, it's not just about words, but about actions. They will make time for you without question, because you won't be an inconvenience; you'll be a priority.

This doesn't mean that they'll always be perfect or that there won't be times when life pulls them in different directions. But even in those times, if someone truly values you, they'll let you know you're still important, they'll keep the lines of communication open, and they'll make sure to show you in their actions that they're committed to you.

They'll make room for you, and not just when it's easy, but when it matters most. You shouldn't have to fight for a place in someone's life. If they want you there, they'll make room for you without hesitation. Your presence won't feel like a burden or something to be squeezed in only when it's convenient. Instead, it will feel like a natural part of their world, something they cherish and protect.

So, remember: if they truly want you in their life, they'll make room for you. They'll show you through their actions, their effort, and their dedication that you are not just another obligation but someone they genuinely care for and are willing to make space for. The right people will never make you feel like you're an option—they'll show you that you are a priority. And when you find that, you'll know that you're with someone who truly values you.

Single soul❤️

[iatrophilosophos]

From a US perspective, I think a way more thoughtful and useful lens of critique is that this country did & is responding to covid in the best way that's actually possible for it-- CONTRASTS with the AIDS epidemic, lesser-known public health crises (like deadly weight loss fads!), the historical* management of + even the deeply violent eradication efforts against previously endemic diseases like TB, and the general state of non-contageous chronic illness management will lay this bare.

*within your grandparents lifetime.

This is actually the best this state, this way of LIFE, is capable of. That SHOULD piss you off, it SHOULD seem horrific.

The lens that this is an anomalous tragedy and not a massive R E L A T I V E """success"""" is contradicted by the historical record and leads nowhere. I suppose I have nothing to much to say to people who are extremely stuck on this "i have a right to never get sick ever" kind of idea, bc i think that's simply an unfeasible position to hold as a living body and betrays an unfortunate lack of thoughtfulness and regard for, uh, literally anyone with a genetic/ otherwise non-externally-aquired disability; but short of that like. There's ways of thinking about this shit that lead somewhere. There's ways of thinking about how civ is hostile to disabled beings, and causes certain kinds of disabilities certainly, while also rejecting the notion of a perfect Ur-body as a "natural state". Yever looked at a wild animal? A fucking TREE? those things are fucked up yo. To live is not to be made in the perfect image of an abled anglo-saxon God, but to be born through a chaotic and imperfect and highly variable smashing together of organic material; to get screwed up by time; to exist in an ecosystem of pathogens and physical dangers and bear their marks--NOT PASSIVELY! Not without medicine, an extremely basic activity of living beings shared by other animals, not without learning, strategizing, reducing spread; not without accommodation and aid; but these are all activities through which we *participate* in the ecosystem, not rise above it.

Yes, some diseases have been nearly eradicated, but they have been replaced by *new ones*, MRSA and other antibiotic resistant infections, covid, and so on. Open a niche and something else will grow there.

It is hard to go through, it is hard to learn to live with, but at base level it is not a tragedy to get sick. The horror, the tragedy, the injustice is a world that does not make *space* for the realities of that sickness; that doesn't support effective medicine; that doesn't allow for the neccesary reconfiguration of lives in response to sickness--where even with the prompt research and highly funded attempts at remediation that so many other people have been denied, the basic demands and structures of our ways of life result in mass death.

[hishighnesstheprincess]

so what's your overall thoughts on the movie??

General: sa2 still clears and specifically I think the sa2 lore for the ARK trio (Shadow Maria and Gerald) is a lot better, but this was pretty good (sometimes even great) for a movieverse (loose) adaptation of sa2. I did not like Gerald though, I think his crusty ass should have been left in the 70s

Specific thoughts under the cut (spoilers obviously)

My main criticisms rn is that it basically just feels like a watered down version of sa2, from most of the main story beats to the lore to the characters etc. Obviously I was not expecting them to have the same amount of depth that the games managed to give to Shadow's story from both the extra content that comes along with the games (like the manual that confirmed Maria's illness) but I feel like cutting out stuff like Maria's illness and her wish just left the story feeling neutered in some very important ways. The other big thing I didn't like was Gerald in general. Like yeah he was kinda funny the first two acts, but then he keeps the goofy schtick up while Sonic and Shadow are trauma bonding and kicking ass in space and idk. If they wanted to show him as a more evil version of Eggman maybe have him just actually be more evil for the final act. Ideally he should have behaved more menacing after dropping the "You're no Maria" line. Also the pacing was fast as hell, and apparently the film cut relatively important stuff like explanations for how Gerald was alive at 110 years old (he was licking that Shadow quill apparently) and also led to stuff like Shadow's entire arc being kinda rushed.

Aside from those though... I kind of loved it???? Big surprise coming from me I know, and I do wonder if it's just recency bias, but I think this is easily and by far the best project the films have put out. If you've seen both trailers for this film you can predict how 95% of the plot is going to go along with the character arcs, but they're still decently effective (for everyone except Gerald). The goofiness does get to be a bit much sometimes and my god I wish they would just let movie Sonic be quiet for once in a while, but towards the later half it starts getting really good. The parallels between Sonic and Shadow are well-made and impactful. Super Sonic and Super Shadow are hype. The action is fucking fantastic (if you go to these films just for spectacle you ABSOLUTELY want to see this one). And the found family stuff is the best it's ever been. If you like Wachowski sibling content, and specifically Wachowski sibling angst, you will be feasting. Tails and Knuckles fans, GO TO THIS MOVIE. I won't say why but you'll fucking love it

Depending on my mood, it's a 6/10-8/10 from me

Random thoughts

The non-game human characters are the best balanced that they've ever been

The game human characters are not well balanced at all lmao

Even if movie 4 will inevitably be less hype than movie 3, I can honestly see it maybe being the best so far which is 100% my own bias

Amy's design is cute as hell and Metal's design is awesome as hell

I'm kinda glad Jim Carrey is (presumably) gone ngl

I hope they keep the energy Sonic had in the third act and mid-credits for the rest of the franchise, even if it will obviously be less intense than when he was literally trying to kill someone

I am going to make so many fanfics where movie Sonic suffers bc I adore him so much (/negative) (/positive)

I think it would be best if the next movie was just Sonic, Amy, and Metal. I love the sibs but this being in live action, if the cast keeps getting inflated every individual member is just going to have so much less time. Maybe Sonic and Amy get kidnapped to Little Planet or something

I want them to keep her crush on Sonic but also her spunky and somewhat violent and irrational attitude. If they kept Knuckles gullibility they should also keep her flaws

Shadow and Maria's story may be infinitely more compelling in the games but them in the movies is just more entertaining idk what to tell you

They gotta give Maddie something to do. She is literally just Tom's +1 at the moment please god give her something to do

I do not feel bad about the GUN commander guy at ALLLLLLLL lmao i think he shoulda died choking on his own blood. bitchass

you still don't need to watch the knuckles show

[oacest]

fic: kenet, dragon!liam, 3.6K words

When Liam was little and did something to annoy Noel, whether it be stealing his stuff, whining, chattering, following him around everywhere, or generally just existing in his space, he used to tell him they weren't really brothers.

(This was before Liam's fire came in, before his explosive tantrums were a threat to the structural integrity of the council house.)

Liam was bad at school – his head was in the clouds years before he ever managed to wing his way up there. If he'd paid any attention to his special classes, he would've known Noel was only having him on, that it was one of those genetic fuck-yous that riddled their family. They had a grand uncle in County Mayo like Liam; he was locally famous for having a few too many and terrorizing pilgrims off Croagh Patrick.

As it was, it didn't take much to convince Liam he was adopted; it wasn't like Noel or Paul occasionally had a tail, now did they.

You're lying, Liam would moan. As if he wasn't already tearing up.

I ain't. Da won you in a card game. Pair of sevens was all he needed to bring you home.

It didn't matter to little Liam that their family was dirt poor and kind of awful; the idea of not really belonging to it filled him with an instinctive terror. Noel never knew if that was because of his condition or just being the baby of the family.

Of course it always backfired, because Liam would go running to Mam, and then she'd twist his ear for telling his little brother he came from an egg like one of them turtles down by Cringle Brook.

Noel pretty much forgot about it by the time they left Tommy and got the new house. The old taunt got buried under years of other insults and lies, under a mountain of reluctant fondness and occasional wonderment, and then other things.

By the time they were in Oasis, the fact of their brotherhood was not only obvious to anyone who looked at them, it was also central to every facet of their waking lives. It was the first thing people knew about either of them, which is a bit fucking much when you considered Liam occasionally shifted into a winged, fire-breathing creature the size of a fucking tank.

Nevertheless: Noel Gallagher, big brother to Liam. Liam Gallagher, little brother to the entire fucking country it sometimes seemed. But first and foremost Noel's.

So yeah, Noel forgot what he used to say.

Liam never did, though.

–------

Most dragons? Proper ugly fuckers. Bullish heavy foreheads and beady eyes, ill-formed features like they got jumbled about after a lifetime of being rearranged all the time in the shift. It's just one of the many ways Liam was blessed at birth that he seems to be the exception.

In some lighting you wouldn't even notice the faint iridescence of scales just under Liam's skin where it gets thin: the underside of his wrists, the imprint of his spine. The bleach of his knuckles when his hand is in a fist.

He has a slight pebbling at the ridge of his eye socket, but somehow through the magic of his brother that gets turned around into something beautiful too. Beautiful and occasionally terrifying.

Between the two of them, Noel is the one who looks like he'd be the dragon. But he's never been jealous, except for a brief stretch of years when he dreamed nonstop about what he'd do if he could grow bigger: if he could smash Tommy into bits or breathe fire, transform his entire ugly world into cinders.

He got over that, though. And Liam went on to live his life in such a way as no one could feel jealous of it.

1994

“Is it true you're telepathic?” asked the girl from Em Tee Vee. They were in some hotel room, where half these interviews seemed to take place.

Truth was, they used the hotel rooms because their schedule was so crazy, and also because Marcus hoped Liam would behave better if he was in a space he felt he could own. What Marcus or anyone had yet to understand was that Liam felt he owned any and every space he happened to be in at the time. And that he was hardly more likely to behave if Noel was present.

“No,” said Noel.

“'Course it is,” said Liam. He waved a hand between them and then at himself. Wiped his nose; the fire made his sinuses tingle sometimes. “But not – not like this.”

“Not ever,” said Noel firmly. Liam couldn't communicate in his other form; he could barely communicate in this one.

“He's lying,” said Liam. He took a drink from his pint, looking sullen. “I remember, when I was little and could still like, perch on his shoulder—”

“So when you were two?” said Noel, shaking his head at the girl.

“You let me do it until I was at least five. Anyway, I could talk to him then. Hear 'im in me head too. 'Course I did, how is a kid supposed to get on if he can't talk to anyone and he's hungry or, or gets lost up a tree or summat? But he stopped talking back. Now he never listens neither.”

“None of that is true,” said Noel, and the world believed him because the alternative was insane.

2015

Noel.

Noel.

Noel, Noely G, Noel Gallagher. You fuckin prick, let us in. Noel, you awake? Noel, I know you're awake, the cousins always drag us out when we're in Dublin. Nole. Noel! NOELNOELNOELNOEL—

He groaned and finally pushed up from his marvelous big bed. There was the not-lately-familiar feeling of someone trying to tweeze out thoughts from his head with a pair of serrated chopsticks, and he half-hunched over in pain as he made his way over to the window of the rented flat.

He dragged aside the floor-length curtain and grimaced up into the glowing blue eyes of his brother, who had somehow wedged his elephantine body into the narrow space of the balcony. The wrought iron railing was battered and bent outwards, the grill and wicker chairs toppled over. This was going to do wonders for Noel's reputation for partying.

He rubbed his eyes and considered shutting the curtains again.

Liam, as if he could read his thoughts (he couldn't), huffed a massive breath that caused half the glass door to immediately fog over, and then thumped his head against it. Once, twice. He blinked his massive eyes down at him.

Let me in, cunt.

“Why are you here?” he demanded as he slid the balcony door open. Liam's head immediately pushed inside, followed by his long neck. “Aren't you supposed to be in New York for court? What the fuck, Liam?”

Liam shook his head like a dog and wiggled forward a few more steps. Out on the balcony, the railing groaned and shrieked as his heavy, razorback tail slid free of it.

He shifted as he walked, because even those massive balcony doors wouldn't fit his shoulders. In a minute he was standing naked in the middle of Noel's bedroom, looking around like he'd never seen one before.

“What the fuck?” said Noel again for good measure.

“In the morning,” he grumbled, rolling his neck and already stepping towards the bed like it was his. “Man, 'm completely knackered.”

“Long day being unemployed and a wanker?” But he was tired too and, while he had long since learned that the path of least resistance did nothing to actually ameliorate their relationship, he couldn't be bothered when it was four in the morning and he had a busy schedule the next day.

He got back into bed and Liam wasted no time cuddling up, like they still did this all the time. As always, his chest was like a reactor core. It was like trying to sleep on a bed of hot coals.

“You're sneaking out tomorrow morning,” said Noel, shoving a pillow in the nonexistent space between their bodies for some insulation. “I mean it. Tour's only starting, and if I have to spend it talking about you drunkenly winging across Ireland sky-writing tweets instead of promoting my album, I'll kill you. I really will.”

Liam ducked his head and chewed on the corner of the pillow. “Your album,” he muttered, muffled. “I used to have albums. Loads of 'em. A lovely, bright collection.”

Noel rolled his eyes. He said nothing and hoped for sleep to instantaneously claim them both.

“And fans,” continued Liam mournfully around the pillow corner, which was starting to get singed. “And music every day.”

His eyes slid up the length of Noel's body, faintly glowing again. If he tried shifting and broke the bed, Noel would find this flat's fire extinguisher and spray its contents down his throat.

“You could still have all those things,” he pointed out, exhaustion masquerading as patience. “If you got off your ass and put your name on the line. You know, you'd think you'd want that – your name over everything.”

“That was always the difference between me and you,” said Liam. “Didn't need my name over something to know it was mine.”

He slid his knee forward and up over Noel's legs. His dick was a hard burning line against his thigh.

Noel chewed on his lip and held his breath for a long moment of possibility. It had been years since they did that. Stopping was probably part of the reason things got so bad; generally speaking, dragons did not like being told no. But it was the only way.

Noel had worked too hard to start saying yes again on some random night in March on the eve of his second world tour.

“Go to sleep,” he said, and he rolled over so his back was to him.

2018

People were too fucking precious about it these days, the way they were about everything. Fucking snowflake millennials. Suddenly naming something for what it was or describing how it fucks with your day was simply not on, apparently.

Back in the nineties, people would meet Liam, spend maybe half an hour with him, and come away wincing sympathetically at Noel for what he had to deal with all the time. Twenty years on, neither of them have changed and yet now Noel's the bad guy for simply stating Liam is obsessed and jealous and thinks even now that Noel is part of his—

“Ooh,” says Donald from Radio 2, “I don't think we should use that word.”

It takes a moment for Noel to realize which one he means. “What, hoard?” he says incredulously.

A click signals the producer on the other side of the glass has hit a button. Cathy's voice pipes into the booth. “It's considered othering, Noel.”

“Then it's doing its job, because my brother is as other as it fucking gets.”

“That – may be,” says Donald bracingly, “but our listeners are not, and we wouldn't want to blindside them.”

Blindside, fucking christ. As if they were not talking about the man who once went on a three-day bender and passed out in broad daylight in Notting Hill on Michael Hutchence's jag, crushing it.

Noel sits back and crosses his leg, then his arms for good measure. “What word should I use, then?”

Donald looked back through the glass to Cathy for guidance. They waited while she considered the question or, more likely, googled it.

Another staticky click and she came through, clearly reading off her phone, “People avoid the H-word because it puts the compulsion at the center of the experience. This can be avoided through the use of people-first language—”

“People-first language,” repeats Noel. “Well, there's your problem right there. Liam's not a person.”

There's a beat of silence and then Donald gives a short, uncomfortable laugh.

–---

Any-fucking-way, here is a list of everything Liam considers part of his hoard:

When he was really little, Noddy toys; thereafter their childhood bedroom and everything in it; Noel's apartment in India House; Noel's first apartment in London; a series of very stupid hats; every fucking song Noel ever wrote for Oasis, including the ones Noel kept back to sing himself; every fuzzy layering garment he has ever clapped eyes on through a shop window; Noel's time; Noel's attention; and lastly but also firstly and everything in between: Noel himself.

1996

It was probably really fucking dangerous, flying while they set off fireworks below. But Liam was off and running before anyone guessed what he was doing, and then it was too late to even worry. It was always too late to worry about Liam.

Anyway, after a show like that, everyone kind of thought he was untouchable. He'd make the universe bend around him.

The massive crowd continued to cheer; music poured from the speakers. Noel leaned against the fence and sipped his beer, watching along with everyone else for glimpses of his brother through the explosions and smoke overhead.

His chest felt like it was bursting full of warmth and light. He might start floating any second. He wondered if this was how Liam felt all the time.

1985

C'mon, wheedled Liam.

“Not a chance.” It was the fourth time he said it, and it was growing harder with the repetition to say it casually. He tried smiling at Diane, who was sitting on the park bench drinking a lemonade and managing to look absolutely stunning as she did it. She smiled back, sorta.

Liam put his head down like an anteater and started trotting at him. It took Noel a baffled second to realize he thought he could scoop him up like that. It was really embarrassing, but it would've been even more embarrassing if he succeeded, so Noel evaded him by darting and jumping behind a tree.

So then he was hiding behind a tree from his kid brother while his potential girlfriend watched. He hated his life sometimes.

A furnace blast of air ruffled Noel's hair as Liam wound his head around the tree. Why not? He sounded plaintive in Noel's head.

People who saw them only could see the surface of things. They saw a little guy getting harassed by a massive blue-green dragon with a lazy eye. And then they looked the other way, because that's what everyone in the world did when things were happening to little guys.

“The last time we tried flying, I damn near broke me arm,” he said, pressing back again the bark like he could become one with the tree. “I said never again, and I meant it.”

I was ten. My balance is way better now. I been practicing.

“Practicing with who?” he scoffed.

Girls, mostly. But Polly Lynch let me take her guinea pig up once. I reckon if a guinea pig can manage it, so can you.

“Oh, that's just what Mam needs, you killing some poor girl and making us pariahs in the neighborhood.”

Liam nosed forward and chucked his chin with his snout. Not gonna kill nobody. Told you, I'm good at it.

“Answer's still no.”

Why not? I wanna show you things, like Black Chew Head and this one geezer's office in City Tower, you won't believe it, he's got a whole wall full of—

“You ain't supposed to be going into the city,” says Noel sharply. “How many times we gotta tell you that, you'll get in trouble. There's rules, Liam.”

Liam chucked his chin again, but more roughly this time. Noel could feel the sting of scraped skin along his neck and clapped a hand to it, grimacing and cursing.

His little brother stepped back, long tail shambling in a large circle over the park lawn as he turned his back on Noel.

Unease trickled in, too late. Noel started after him. “Liam!”

If you're not coming with, you don't get to tell me what to go.

And then he was taking off with a heavy, sulky beat of wings. Noel and Diane watched him go. He favored his right side, listing badly. Better balance his arse, thought Noel. He would've killed Noel for sure.

“What did he say?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing, I don't – I don't know. He can't talk when he's like that.”

“Oh.” She seemed surprised. “But I thought—”

“What?” he asked, real fast (too fast).

She looked at him in steady appraisal. Eventually, she shrugged and said, “Nothing. I just thought you could hear him, is all. Your mam made it sound like you could. Said you were the only one.”

Noel looked back at the sky, where Liam was only a small dot now. He was going too high.

“I'm a good guesser, is all,” he said.

2019

He didn't need the tell-tale shadow or the sound of beating wings overhead to know his brother had just left. It was obvious from the scorch marks spelling out CUNT in the lawn. The letters were large and crooked, somehow identical to his scrawl when he signed something for a fan. The T was still actively on fire in two spots.

It was just as well Sara and the kids weren't here yet and wouldn't be until the end of the week. The Hampshire house was still mostly empty. Noel was only out there to oversee the relocation of some of his more precious items (that is, his guitars).

He walked across the lawn, already hearing his wife's voice in his head: this has gone too far, we need to get a restraining order, he's dangerous, can't you see he's not well? How are we supposed to sleep like this? What about the boys, what if he takes the boys? After the things he's said and now he's over here proving he knows exactly where to find us?

The problem is, Liam will always know where to find him. There's nothing he can do about that, short of murder and/or suicide. He's only not done at least the former because the mere thought of the Cain and Abel references in all the headlines and book titles and documentaries made him disgusted.

Noel stamped out the two small fires and wiped his shoes on the grass to get the ash off. He took out his phone and made two calls standing there in the center of the lawn. The first was to his landscaper.

The second was to his mother.

2006

They had told Liam from the very beginning he needed to take special care with his voice, because of his condition; the fire was harsh on his larynx, made the cartilage more brittle. But Liam said fuck you, first just in his head, and then in Noel's, and then a few times aloud to anyone who dared tell him how to live his life over the years. And now that voice was gone: shredded and hoarse, you'd never guess what he used to be able to do with it.

“What do you mean, you're going on tour without me?” he said. They were in his local in Primrose Hill, in a corner booth. Noel had wanted to break the news somewhere familiar, so Liam wouldn't destroy the place if things went really poorly.

“It's not a tour,” he said, downplaying it like that has ever made a difference. “It's a few acoustic shows. I've always done those on the side.”

Liam shook his head. “But not like this, not as a tour.” He sat back, putting his arm over the back of the booth. His eyes traveled over the room, already seeing past Noel to the ranks of invisible enemies lying in wait.

Like a fool, Noel leaned forward to reason with him. “Look, it's to promote our album. You cannot possibly have a problem with this. I promote the album, you don't have to do nish, we both rake in the money.”

“Fuck the money,” said the man who's been a millionaire for a third of his life. “You're running off with my shoes, trying them on for size. Well, I think you'll find they're too big for you, little man.”

Noel tapped the table. “Right.” And then, to himself, “Why the fuck did I even bother.”

“Yeah, why did you?” he asked as Noel began sliding out of the booth. “I'll tell you why – you wanted to be able to say to people, I gave him fair warning. But I see through you. I got that third eyelid, brother, I'm always watching.”

He informed him, “I didn't have to tell you anything, actually. I don't need your permission to tour and, as I won't be dealing with your sulking on the road, your cooperation is also irrelevant. But I thought you deserved to hear it from me, that you might handle it like an adult and not a puffing little skink.”

For some reason, this is what cause Liam to flip his colours. His arm shot out and he grabbed Noel's wrist in his hot little hand.

He stood there looking down at it, for some reason not pulling away immediately.

“My voice is recovered from the spring, if that's what this is,” said Liam quietly. “I'm ready to go, Noel. Just name the date. I could do Knebworth tomorrow, man, you know I could.”

Despite a lifetime of proof that it wasn't any good, sometimes Noel caught himself wishing they could speak telepathically like this. Maybe it would be better, if it were these eyes he was looking into, this hand he was holding, when he lied and told him it wasn't about his voice.

[raxistaicho]

Woah, this one blew up since I first saw it, very interesting.

I thought sealioning was our thing, but Fewix (emblemxeno) decided to toss in his two cents. Badly, as is his won't, but oh well.

First, starting with something Fewix said:

Rhea's a genocide survivor and the "evil red lady" in question was grave robbing her dead family's tombs

As usual, Edelgard had no way of knowing Crest Stones are the body parts of Rhea's dead kin. Thanks to Rhea herself. From Edelgard's perspective, she was raiding a weapons cache hidden within a tomb, rather like how Rhea hid a Relic in her own casket. You can't desecrate a site that's already been desecrated.

and has been complicit in most of the tragedies and dangers that have befallen garreg mach during that year. Rhea should've done more batshit things actually.

She threatened to kill Byleth in an exceptional vicious and traumatic way, my dude. The death she prescribed for Byleth was brutality that would be right out of The Witcher.

We generally frown upon paying evil unto evil.

Also the devs said that Rhea's a cat lover which is why there's animals througout the monastery and there was a plan for her private quarters to be filled with cats/materials that cats love

No, she was planned to be an animal lover, but that got cut from the finished product.

Also nice to hear Rhea's swanky living space was also going to have a private bathroom. I wonder if it had proper plumping, too?

From Diaphin:

being a genocide survivor doesn't entitle her to hold an entire Continent of people hostage due to the notion of her own racial superiority based on her own ancestry. Especially after she chose to already activeöy reward the benefactors of said genocide.

I'm not quite sure I'd call it hostage, but Rhea definitely did believe humans weren't fit to govern their own affairs. The whole point of the Church of Seiros was to maintain order as a holding pattern until Rhea could bring Sothis back to life to continue ruling the land.

And funnily enough…isn't she a heretic to her own religion in CF? In CF, Edelgard gets crowned with Sothis living Vessel and chosen successor as her witness, who protects her from Rheas judgement in an act of divine Intervention. Rhea loses all authority as archbishop of Sothis the second she doesn't accepts Byleths judgement. According to the Central Churches own teachings, everything Edelgard does in CF is right.

Heheh, and I take full advantage of that in my fanfic, On Black Wings. Byleth grants Edelgard a lot of legitimacy in the eyes of the faithful thanks to Rhea spreading word of her divine status before the Holy Tomb.

But yes, basically all of that. It's actually a shame 3H proper doesn't go further with those implications. Yet another issue of project bloat due to having too many routes. Diaphin and I are in agreement it should've just been Crimson Flower and Azure Moon.

From Fewix:

-"Hold hostage" Incorrect that she's holding anything or anyone hostage, when two of the three sovereign nations remain without strict influence from the church in the current era.

Rhea and Seteth don't seem to have gotten the message.

If you're referring to tech advancement, there are in-game signs that she has voluntarily let her influence on such restrictions wane (autopsy, advanced crest tech, mass book printing, etc.).

Aight, so I made a big rant on this one, but I don't give a shit if Rhea later relaxed her bans. She does not have the right to decide how quickly society develops. It happens as it will happen, and it's not for her decide how quickly is too quickly. That more than anything else is a sign of her arrogant certainty that humans can't govern their own affairs. It'd be one thing if she only restrained weapons development, but medical advancements and book-making? Nah, she can fuck right off with that. She's got blood on her hands with just those two restraints, to say nothing of all the others there might have been.

-"reward benefactors of genocide" Rhea killed the ten elites and spared their children because children don't deserve to be punished for the wrongdoings of their parents

Everything up until that is above board (if a bit uncharacteristic of her). It's galling that Rhea chose to allow mankind (and by mankind I mean Faerghus and Leicester) to continue to benefit from their horrific deeds by giving them the Relics when they proved useful to her. She should have sealed the Relics away in the Holy Tomb and never took them back out. Allowing her slaughtered kin to be used as tools of enforcement of the church, Faerghus, and Leicester's hegemony is a disgrace to them.

-"Isn't Rhea a heretic" Nope, because 3H's theological narrative is ultimately to discredit the Divine Right of Kings ("god said it therefore I'm right") and to prop up Mandate of Heaven ("may the ruler be virtuous lest he be overthrown by the people") instead. Rhea's not a ruler of a nation so she can't be overthrown out of her own church, Dimitri is falsely sentenced by the agarthans and traitorous nobles (not the common folk), and Claude isn't ever overthrown either. Edelgard is the only one who can get overthrown by her own subjects in-game, and even in her own route's epilogue there is mention of revolts that Hubert's Secret Police puts down.

Holy shit, that's a non-sequitor stacked with using semantics as a defense. If you're still confused, Seteth said Rhea committed a huge taboo trying to bring Sothis back from the dead. Trying to bring anyone back from the dead is typically the action of a villain in this series.

Edelgard is the only one who can get overthrown by her own subjects in-game

Most of them being,

traitorous nobles (not the common folk)

and even in her own route's epilogue there is mention of revolts that Hubert's Secret Police puts down.

Don't look now, Fewix:

To foster trust, Claude frequently sent Balthus into Fódlan on missions to help quell revolts begun by Imperial loyalists.

Byleth needs foreign help to maintain their throne? Guess they lost the Mandate of Heaven, too.

Also, you got that nonsense on Divine Right of Kings and the Mandate of Heaven from Fantasy Invader, who I consider an anti-source: if he says it, it's probably false.

Also Sothis' crest stone disappears and Byleth's hair turns back to blue, so no, even by your reading, you're still wrong since Sothis took her divine right away after her daughter was killed

Yeah, you're definitely using fucking Fantasy Invader as a source, ye gods.

Yeah, Sothis definitely hated Byleth and wanted to punish them.

Diaphin went on for a bit, but I was more interested in smacking Fewix around a bit, so I'll leave it at that. Merry Christmas, everyone!

I think one of the funniest arguments I've seen in FE Twitter for why Nabateans should be ruling and hold authority over the inferior race is probably how their age and lived experience makes them most fit to rule when the US just went over the issue of its running candidates for leadership becoming increasingly old.

Like yeah, there are old people who through lived experiences and age have gained alot of insights and wisdom, but then there is also your insane grandpa who is angry at kids day and age playing with their Minecrafts instead of working in the mines from 4am to 10pm.

Rhea is a person who gets so insanely angry over her science fair necromancy experiment siding with the evil red lady and her now losing the war, that against every offer to surrender or resolve this war with her dignity and life intact, she instead has the biggest german kid temper tantrum in gaming history and orders to burn an entire civilian city she and her remaining troops currently inhabit and which gave them refuge for 5 years. I wouldn't trust Rhea to take care of my cat without burning the town I live in to the ground because he wouldn't let her pet him.

[truthunfiltered]

Enough Is Enough – Addressing the Normalization of Toxic Behaviors on Desiblr

I can’t step into 2025 without addressing something that’s been weighing on me for far too long. Desiblr — what was once a space to celebrate culture, self-expression, and connection — has turned into something else entirely. It’s become a breeding ground for romanticization, fetishization, and sexualization. And the worst part? It’s all become so normalized. Excused. Ignored. Accepted.

Let me make one thing clear: this is NOT okay.

I’m writing this because I’ve lived it. I’ve seen it. And I’ve been victimized by it. I’ve had a front-row seat to this toxicity, not just for myself, but for those I care about, including a close friend who I consider my brother. The same toxic culture that I’ve been subjected to? He has too. And I know I’m not alone in this.

Here’s the truth: Behind closed DMs and hidden posts, it’s a different world. And it’s disgusting.

There are people — predominantly men — who act like they care, pretend to be supportive, pretend to understand. But deep down, they’ve got a different agenda: manipulation. A 25-year-old man I encountered had “18+” in his bio. He posted explicit content openly, then removed it, as if that changed anything. But did his behavior change? Nope. He still sent suggestive messages, acted like a predator, and went after vulnerable people, all under the pretense of being “chill” or “open-minded.”

And when I called him out? What did I get?

“Oh, it’s his blog. His rules.”

“He can post what he wants.”

Would you still say that if your younger sibling or cousin stumbled upon his account? If they became the next target of his manipulative, disgusting behavior?

When I tried to speak up, to raise awareness, I got dismissed. Some random person called me an “attention seeker” for standing up for myself. Since when did protecting yourself from being objectified turn into a “cry for attention”?

The normalization of these behaviors is the most dangerous part.

But this isn’t just about one man. It’s about the entire system. The culture that lets these men thrive without consequence. I remember a guy telling me he had a crush on me—great, but then he found out I’m an NRI and suddenly it was, “Oho, green card ka access mil gya.” Are you kidding me? This mindset is pure trash. It’s transactional. People are no longer seen for who they are, but for what they can offer. It’s disgusting.

But here’s the part that really stings. When I was harassed by that same guy who made the green card joke, no one came to my defense. Not a single person. Why? Because they knew who he was. He was the “popular guy,” the “known” one. So, instead of standing up for me, people just ignored it. It’s like they knew his behavior was toxic, but they didn’t want to risk angering him or getting caught in the drama. The girls who all claim to be “girl’s girls,” the ones who preach sisterhood and solidarity, where were they when I needed them? Nowhere. Not a single person stood up for me. But if it had been anyone else, I guarantee the story would’ve been different.

It’s like I wasn’t even worth defending because I wasn’t as “valuable” in their eyes as he was. And that’s the reality of it. The double standards, the prioritization of popularity and social status over basic decency. It hurts, but it's the truth.

I was harassed so badly that I ended up deleting my account altogether. I couldn’t even stand to stay on a platform where the toxicity outweighed the support. It wasn’t just about one incident—it was the culture, the dismissal, and the gaslighting that made it unbearable.

Later, I befriended a guy who seemed to get it. He understood how toxic Desiblr could be, how my ex treated me, and how I had been romanticized, fetishized, and sexualized. He seemed like someone I could trust especially after he had called out the other guy. But guess what? He ended up doing the same thing. Seriously? I made a fake account to go undercover and see if this really was the case, and he had the password because it was part of the supposed mission. I hadn’t used the account since June, but when my brother-like friend and I checked it recently, I saw that he’d changed the theme to make it look like a guy’s account. He even kept some of my posts and added vulgar things What. The. Hell. This guy, who seemed to understand, ended up being just like everyone else. The betrayal? Unreal.

Even my brother like friend, someone I trust entirely, has faced this. Women on the platform romanticize him, turn him into some kind of idealized fantasy, ignoring his boundaries, treating him like an object. When I talk to him, the first thing people ask is, “Who is she? Why is she always on your account?” The entitlement is real, and it’s infuriating.

And you know what? I’m done. I’m done tolerating this nonsense.

To those defending these behaviors, let me ask you something:

Would you leave your younger sibling or cousin in the hands of someone like that 25-year-old? Would you trust them with someone who claims “I’m not dirty-minded,” but then turns around and posts fantasies about dominance and control? Would you? No? Then why are you defending them?

Stop pretending this is normal. Stop pretending this is harmless. It’s not. It’s harmful. It’s disgusting. And it has real consequences. The emotional and mental toll of being reduced to an object of desire is immeasurable.

I’m speaking up because I refuse to let this continue. I refuse to let anyone else go through what I went through, feel the shame I felt. It’s time to stop pretending it’s “normal” and start calling it what it is.

And honestly? I’m still pissed.

It’s 2025 soon, and I’m not stepping into the new year without taking a stand. We need to hold people accountable. We need to stop excusing these behaviors. Stop calling them “harmless fun” or “just vibes.” It’s time to recognize the damage they cause.

This fight isn’t just for me. It’s for everyone who’s been silenced, dismissed, or made to feel like their boundaries don’t matter.

We deserve better. And we’re going to demand it.

[just-some-friendly-fun]

✦ ꜱᴏɴɢʙɪʀᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪɴᴇꜱ

: ̗̀➛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 1 :ᴀ ɢʟɪɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴜɴʟɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋꜱ

current, next chapt

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: News often travels fast within the energon mines between every miner. It's become a personal community of sorts. So when news catches wind of a new figure in the mines, D-16 ends up being the last to find out about this matter. And much to his surprise, D-16 comes face to face with the new bot!

■ ᴛᴀɢꜱ/ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Cursing, brief mentions of death, pre-exile/pre-canon

✎ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4,972

ׂ╰┈➤ A/N (if needed): Helloo, so with this there might be some inaccuracies? Maybe? It's more of just language-wise and term-usage. I think I might js bounce back and forth with using cybertronian and just standard English-terms for things. I don't want my readers to be bouncing back and forth on the transformers dictionary constantly as much as I did 😭. ALSO, you do NOT understand how many times I had to watch the movie to check how accurate I was on their MINING??? Anyways, enjoy <33

▶︎ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʟᴏᴠᴇ - ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴄᴄᴀʙᴇᴇꜱ

D-16 considered himself to be one of the more well-informed bots down in the lower sectors when it came to information.

Sometimes.

That is, if you consider the conveniency of how close he accidentally ends up being to one of his fellow peer or two when they've begun to spun up a little rumor-- that just happens to catch his interest, even if a little.

Whether it'd be mentions of a collapsed tunnel, the loss of another miner to said-collapsed tunnels, someone getting promoted--fired--hired, anything really. He'll have heard it, just as much as anybody else had in the operations below ground.

Information was as valuable as it was freely given sometimes, unconditionally--to the ones who humbled themselves as the "non-nosy" type and those who drank every word to the slightest sliver of the news temporarily unheard.

Someone would say something and suddenly, everybody down in every sector would know about that--something.

There wasn't really much to blame though with how rapid news spread about down in the mining operations.

None of the miners really went up to the upper levels, much less to be around in Iacon City, if at all--save face for a few, or if special arrangements and events were being taken place that allowed for the low-caste bots and miners to attend too.

But generally, heading up to the upper sectors was... Almost a privilege in a way. Visits up to the top, were rare and few. Some of the miners he'd known for most of his life cycle had only been outside of the mines solely for work-related measures, and even then it was brief--save space for Orion who'd disappear occasionally to chase after something that'd reprieve his boredom.

Naturally, the question on whether--"is this necessary and/or contributing to work?"--was constantly hardwired into their processor to think on every waking act. And if it wasn't?--Whatever action or initiative was going on should be promptly halted, work in the mines must always come first, that was simply just protocol. (Even if unsavory and neglecting of their own personal wishes and wants to see the floors above, ones devoid of the same faces of work peers, rocks, lifeless machines churning away at the belts, and ore-filled carts.)

So to hear of information often revolving around the mining operations was a rather common practice rather than to hear about anything up on the above ground level, lest it came in the form of a live transmission from Sentinel Prime himself.

And besides, whatever happens in the mines usually stayed down in the mines only, for better or for worse.

Not that anybody from the above ground level cared to pay much of a mind what happens down below, so long as every bot got their energon. They don't bother to ask how the process is done, it's only when do they get it and whether they can at all.

D-16 grunted, his tool struck against the stone, and sparks decorated the space that surrounded. His drill began to pummel its way through the stone in search of ore. The chisel of his drill ate away at the rubble, carving into it and demanding for its very own passage around the designated space until all that came loose in the end was am energon ore, raw and yet to be refined. The jackhammer he bore slowly came to a halt, a soft hiss escaping with his sigh of relief. it was slowly resorting to an idle position once his digits came free from the trigger. He reached forth to collect the bounty, nudging aside loose pebbles and dust to pluck up the cube and examine it.

It was fairly sized, small if anything but it would do. Anything to count for his fair share of the workload... And most of Orion's, as D-16 swept his helm left and right and even spun around to search for the bot but when his eyes scanned no sight of the familiar red and blue mech (even under the darkness of the cave). D-16's optics dimmed in realization that his mining buddy had fled off elsewhere for the time being to avoid the work shift for now, making a mental countdown on how long it'd take before he'd get his skid-plate hauled back into line. It'd been the fourth sudden take-off this month alone.

D-16 started to walk back and lazily chucked his ore in with the rest within the cart, an audible clatter resounded before the pile welcomed the new piece. The mech circled on back to where he first found the ore, burrowing through more of the space in hopes that one small pebble could lead to a bigger vein within.

...

Hours had gone by since his grueling search and so far, D-16 had only managed to find two underwhelming veins that lead to a moderate sized deposit. It was easily cleared out and thrown to the rest within the pile, that was now being pushed right back up to the entrance of the opened channel. He grunted and took to the rear position, having denied the initial assistance from most of the other miners to haul the load back to the entry point for refining.

Despite the heavy weight of the energon, there was also the weight of pride that lingered in his chassis somewhere. In his processor, he knew well that the heavier the cart, the more efficient and productive he'd been today! Which... Sparked some form of happiness in his endeavors, a trickling taste of enthusiasm for the day's accomplishment that would lead him to getting promoted, hopefully... One day, but it was a thought, nonetheless.

D-16 would tell himself the same thing day in and day out, punch in, get as much work done, refuel, and then hit recharge, wake up, repeat, and eventually it'll have been all worth it for something. Whether it was a shiny pin and a promotion to the upper levels, or mere praise from his supervisors (which came very rare to nobody's surprise). It gave him something to work hard for--motivation--an incentive, and with Sentinel Prime's constant emphasis in the importance of their work as miners, it gave him a sliver of motivation. (And perhaps it left D-16 exploring on the dream that maybe one day, he'd be able to hear Sentinel Prime say it himself to D-16 on how proud they were, personally, for his work. His efforts alone. It was a far-fetched idea, but an idea he entertained--embarrassingly than once but he'd never let that secret touch daylight).

It was a thankless job, but through the thick of it, D-16 had to persist. For Iacon, he thought, and if not, for Cybertron.

Soon enough, the cart managed to reach the open entry point and he raised his helm once the cart was taken off of his servos to be guided onto the conveyer belt, a quick "thank you" exchanged here and there. Before he turned around, ready to dive back into the channels until the sounds of a virtual beeping came overhead, and an intermission crackled from the speakers, "All mining units, cease operations. You've got an hour of intermission, refuel, recharge, and then return to work," a gruff voice resounded, before a crackle emitted as the intermission promptly ended with no further regard.

A symphony of relieved sighs could be heard once the announcement ended, and then, a steady line of miners began to pour from the open maw of the tunnels, flying on and marching out in rows. Steady and idle chatter began whilst D-16's shoulders drooped, he'd hoped to had gotten in one more round back in the tunnels but, a break was a break and who was he to deny to that?

After all, with the audible creak that came from his stiff joints and the tension in his wires. D-16 thought it would do him some good to begin some self-maintenance, and refueling sounded quite appealing at the moment.

His yellow optics searched for Orion Pax amidst the traveling sea of helms and workers departing as he slowly merged into one of the lanes, loosely calling out in hopes that the mech had returned from his endeavors, "Orion! Orion where are you??"

No response, yet.

Determined, D-16 continued to pass through the walls and lines of moving bodies, "S'cuse me... Pardon me... I'm so sorry-" Left, right, behind, was where he whipped his helm nearly spinning it while, gently pushing his way through to find his companion, monitoring through the waves that slowly diminished and began to sift itself out as workers broke off to go to their recharging stations, refueling hubs, or anywhere else really. He couldn't care less at the moment, more eager to find Orion Pax at the moment, so long as he hadn't already ran off to indulge in another one of his personal escapades.

He carefully navigated his way through the crowd, keeping his audial receptors and optics peeled for just one particular red and blue bot, picking up most of the conversations here and there:

"... Hey did you hear? There's a new bot down in the mines..."

"... Really? Is it a new miner?... Or just some lame old boss bot like Darkwing?..."

"... Shhh, careful. He might j'st be right behind ya..."

"... Heard she's not from Iacon..."

"... I don't even think she's meant to be down here..."

"... Who'd want to come down to a place like this? Must'a gotten some sort of malfunction up in their processor to-"

Suddenly, something clapped onto his shoulder-plates and pulled him back abruptly, the audible clang nearly ringing into his audial receptors, startling D-16 from his focus as he appeared to have gotten himself too focused on the passing current of whispers, reeling back to reality. The catch of rumors stowed away into the back of his processor. D-16 staggered, then twisted around, meeting to a set of familiar blue optics and a brightened grin. D-16 sighed and shook his helm, "Orion..." He began, almost with a breathless sigh from the near spark-attack, a slight chide in his tone far too exhausted to stand alone in his voice, but relief filled his tired gaze.

"Dee! Hey! I've been looking everywhere for you!" Orion Pax exclaimed, throwing an arm over his shoulder-plating and nudging him closer.

"Looking for me? Pff--I've been looking everywhere for you," D-16 insists after rolling his optics, gently pushing him back, "where the hell were you?"

"Ohh, wait until I tell you this!--" He said, holding D-16 by the pauldrons, suddenly guiding him elsewhere once Orion's blue optics spotted something behind D-16. And before the mech himself could catch a glimpse on what his close friend had seen. He was hurried off in another direction towards the refueling hubs, merging with the bundle of bots nearby.

Most of the miners had been used to Orion's antics, D-16 being the most well aware of them all, and like many would suggest.

Trouble always happens to find Orion more than he found it, and now? One could only guess that the trouble was currently sweeping the working grounds for Orion at the moment, leaving D-16 to place an arm around the back of Orion's neck to play his role of getaway, silently ushering him to move faster.

"C'mon! I wanna get some energon first, and then, I'll tell you all about it, It was crazy!" Orion spoke, lowering his voice as if it'd make them any less suspicious.

"Crazy, huh? No less than usual?" D-16 shook his helm and quietly laughed, looking over to the bot, "Got into some trouble again?"

"Ooh!... You bet, and big time," He said.

"I just hope I don't have to bust my skid-plate to pull you out of it this time..." D-16 noted, a slight drag to his tone, mentally counting just how many times he'd already done just that already--within a week or less so far. Orion Pax chuckled on and guided his mining buddy off down the path, offering little to no reassurance that this wouldn't happen again, but for now?

D-16 indulged to it, looking back every now and then to make sure they hadn't been tailed by any angry-looking bots.

...

The intermission came to a close, and eventually each bot was sent back into the mines. So with that, D-16 took to his drill once again and went down with the rest of the mining crew into the newly opened channels. The very minerals that made up the caves parted far them, presenting open pockets of ore that peaked out from the earth between, to which they went at within the first sight of it with starved drills and cutting edges. Buzzing and minerals chipping away filled the atmosphere around, with the occasional shouts and requests here and there for assistance. The hours dragged on, rolling by within the blink of an eye. Every passing minute was punctuated by the clatter of ore filling the cart until the metal wailed along the journey back up to the exiting point again, only for another to replace the cart soon enough.

D-16 was off on his own occupied chase, drilling into the minerals with desperation, a droplet of coolant ran down the side of his face. He had spotted a trace of a vibrant blue glow pulsating between the crevices and struck down with determination, breaking away the minerals as it forced through the stone, gutting and burrowing deep until he had reached the fruits of his labor, a large chunk of energon became exposed to the open air. It was larger than his last initial findings, nearly around half his frame, "This should do..." He sighed, leaning back for a moment to wipe the condensation off of his forehead, before chipping away at the massive chunk down to sizable halves before leaning his drill to the side to haul it back in his arms. He grunted, lowering for a moment before tossing the chunk over the wall of the cart and then repeated with the other. His success coming off in the sound of harsh crash of chunks and rocks, watching the pieces roll to the edge with a dull thud before it settled.

He dusted his servos off and nearly resumed back to work, only pausing as he collected his drill off from the stone wall to look over to the space beside him, "Hm?"

He paused in his work and glanced over, noticing to a bot who'd been struggling for quite some time, using to the same tools he did but with... Less efficiency, and expertise.

He wasn't sure if they had realized it, but they were holding their drill... Upside down, somehow managing regardless to maintain in using it and scoring a few measly pebbles and a few pieces capable of fitting into a servo, out of shear luck or spite somewhere. He was impressed by the odd sight in a way, nearly speechless.

He continued to stare on for a moment longer, merely marveling at how this bot was even managing as he watched them. They stood in the dark, devoid of using their headlamp, but with gritted teeth and determined optics that pierced the dim lighting around. She persisted.

...

The femme pulled back and for a moment, took to a deep sigh, her digits nearly loosening around the trigger from the coolant build-up, making her palms all slick and gross much to her internal protests and grimaces. She loosened her hold on the item and it settled--or rather slipped onto the ground beside her with a gentle "clunk!" and her shoulders drooped, looking to the fruits of her labor.

She nudged a few crumbled bits of rocks with her digits, trying to check whether any was "good enough" but, the femme hadn't really spent enough time before down below, looking at unprocessed energon ore to know a thing or two on what counted as "good" or "bad", nor the worth.

After a minute or two of fishing around between her remains, all she could find was supposedly one light shard of energon ore and a hundred littler... pieces... pebbles? She shortly estimated their worth to be rather appealing enough to skip across an oil stream at best, watching the pieces fall between the gaps of her fingers.

"... Slag," She whispered, so maybe she had bitten off more than she could chew.

Regardless, she threw her pieces up into the cart above, landing one and losing a couple from a few misses (to which she proceeded to chase and pick up again in mild embarrassment) before spending her time pinpointing accuracies on the arch of her throws. Once done, she steadily returned to her work, wiping the coolant off her palms against her skirt-plate, collecting dust and dirt that clung stubbornly. She huffed at the sight but found it to be useful at least, now that her hands were no longer leaving her tools to slip free from her fingers even if it was a little gross...

Okay, maybe not just a little--very, very dirty and gross.

The femme took to the drill and hoisted it up, accidentally pulling down the trigger for a second and scaring herself halfway to death once it struck against the rock and rattled loudly, leaving her to squeak in surprise. She remained frozen and embarrassed herself once again, internally smacking herself in the processor, before fixing her grip on the weapon and then hurriedly looked to her sides in fretting hopes that nobody had noticed her slip-up.

Once safe and certain, she was about to return to the task, sucking in a breath until, a hesitant hand came into her line of sight, followed by a stream of light.

She paused, looking over to follow the white lighting emitted before meeting to the source, standing in silent shock once she met gazes with a pair of bright, yellow--almost orange optics.

The yellow lenses stared back at her and for a moment, the hue deepened and she found herself lost in watching the rings of their optical lense spin slowly--her own silently responding in turn to take in the light.

And for a moment, all she could think of was how pretty they looked, under the dim lighting and soft, contrasting, blue, darkness that surrounded. She could never quite recall the last time when she'd seen a bot outside of her own family, carry optics such as these.

She lingered in her awe, holding her gaze and softly gasping once she realized she'd been staring too long. The monochromatic mech's servo retracted back at her sucked in breath, just as equally fretful of the idea of spooking her.

They both lingered in awkward silence, before he reached out again, keeping his digits distant from her own. The mech pushed his words out first, hastily before he'd become interjected, "Here, uh. Let me help you," He began, and at her tensed silence.

He reached out and carefully laid his servo over her own, guiding it when she had released the death-grip around the handle. He glided his fingertips along the steel and briefly persuaded her into forfeiting the drill on over to D-16 who rotated it around and handed it back to her. She gazed over with confusion riddling across her expression, the inner rings of her optical receptors glowed and rotated to adjust in the sight of the tool's rotation. She held to it and ran her gaze over what she could, squinting and forcing her optics to brighten a little further to see.

At this point, D-16 grew to notice that the femme before him didn't bear any kind of mining light upon her helm, and leaned forward slightly to focus his helm on positioning the lighting over the handle of her drill so she could see. He awkwardly shuffled close to her back and side to help lift the drill up, taking her servo into his own and securing it around the trigger. He made careful gestures to make sure at the very least not to push down the trigger from gripping her servos too hard,

He could feel her frame stiffen briefly against him and with that he tried to reassure her, "I-It's okay, I just... Need you to hold it like..." He trailed off, lifting the end of the drill up over her shoulder and guided the tip to touch into the slight hole she made earlier during her personal scare. He fixed her servos positionings with his own and she watched to him carefully, nodding with every silent lesson he gave and watched every point he gestured with, "This." D-16, now firmly making sure her position was secure, pulled back to give her a bit of room, and pointed to the back of the equipment.

"The end of the drill's gotta... go here, hovering just over your shoulder. I don't recommend resting it completely onto there unless your servo's off the trigger. It sometimes leaves scratches from the impact and from the intense, repetitive motions... a little," He informed, slowly finding his words, and to that she nodded slowly, glancing to her shoulder-plate to make sure she hadn't suffered that mistake yet and resumed to the position he guided her to take, breathing out slowly. She eyed at the placement in the stone, noticing to the bare glow beneath.

D-16 monitored her, and walked back to retrieve his own drill, marching back once she began to carry her drill with confidence, before pulling the trigger and digging back into the earth,

He watched the sparks fly and with that, he pushed for conversation to help loosen the atmosphere even more, "... First time using it?" He asked.

She anxiously shifted between watching where her drill went and to the mech beside her, giving a meek nod before eyeing back to the cracking stone, "... M-mh, yeah, actually." The femme responded.

D-16 nodded and struck to the sight of a glowing energon ore peaking out on his side, letting his own drill bury through and pursuemthe trail. In the meantime, he wanted to at least get to know the new face beside him as recollections of the rumors he had heard before hand began to resurface at the top of his mind. His optics scanned over her for a moment. Her frame was darkened all over, making her nearly one with the underground environments she was within. Her lack of helm-lights was odd initially, but upon further inspection. She bore no jetpack either.

How was she meant to escape a potential tunnel collapse?--maybe she forgot it up at the surface?

But that's dangerous and unaligned from safety protocols!

Nonetheless, he kept calm with a twinge of concern for the newbie, his expression scrunched, "... First time... Down here in... General?" He asked, tilting the word on his glossa slightly, biting back in cautious hopes he hadn't offended the femme if she wasn't new.

The bot paused in her drilling, and looked over, before avoiding his gaze with a slight purse of her lips, "... Is it... that obvious?" She pushed back, almost defeated, as though her act had already crumbled before it could begin.

"Oh no, not at all. It's just--I-I don't think I've ever seen you around down here before," D-16 said, hoping to ease the defeated look in her optics.

Her lowered optical ridges raised up, and lessened into a more understanding expression, bobbing her helm slowly. Her grip on the implement readjusted once again, raising it up, until D-16 held out a servo to stop her. She froze and looked beneath to where her drill pointed to and hurriedly scanned the area for any mistakes. D-16 lowered his drill again and wandered over, guiding the edge of the drill into the ground and gestured her closer, "Here," He advised, before taking to his own drill to provide example.

"You have to hit it at an angle like--this--so it kind of sinks in properly," He informed once more, pulling back and pointing, "there's nothing wrong with the way you're doing it, but if you want it to stay still a little easier and maybe not carry as much of the weight then, it helps." He shrugged, before stepping back once again to give her some space. She nodded and narrowed her optics, searching for a designated spot to test out the method.

"Hit here," D-16 pointed, tapping the front of his drill against the stone to light a few sparks so she could see it, "and try to go for kind of a slightly tilted angle instead of keeping it directly vertical or straight, maybe like a light degree in-between,"

She bobbed her helm lightly, steeling herself once again and struck into the targeted area, pulling the trigger as it began to fill the air between them with an audible "rat-tat-tat!" sending small stars and sparks up from repetitive collision of steel to stone, as well as dust and pebble.

Moments later, the ore loosened from the stone, crumbling away enough for her to scramble and retrieve to the reward of her achievements with brightened optics and a smile that stretched from one audial receptor to the other. She dropped her drill for a moment and reached down to collect the material, curling her arms around the hefty chunk, a soft "hmmf!" escaped her as she strutted back to the cart, dipping into a crouch to amplify her jump and throw, pacing back and forth until all the ore she had mined out was finally cleared.

The femme looked up happily to D-16, the look of gratitude came in the form of her sparkling optics before the words had even yet to settle, a slow smile mirroring onto his lips from her own. He chuckled and reached down to pick up his own finds, wandering over to the cart to dispose it with the rest.

He looked over to the femme beside him and smiled, "see? All you needed was a little help with your technique. Now you don't have to struggle as much and you'll use less energon while at it,"

She hummed in acknowledgement, hastily nodding, “… T-Thank you kindly,” she remarked, a soft accent tucked beneath her words that tried to hide itself. The need for assistance wounded her sense of independency, but it was warmly welcomed nonetheless. She'd have preferred the help over making herself look like an even bigger fool than she was being mere moments ago. She clasped her servos together, digits entwined and folded formally before her, fidgeting “I-I don’t know how to repay you, stranger,” She admitted truthfully, averting her gaze for a moment, only for it to to light up when she noticed D-16's drill drew nearest to her side, retrieving to it and strutting right back to him.

He tilted his head slightly while he watched her return his tool. He chuckled a little more and crossed his arms, amused by the shy gestures, "you're welcome, though you don't need to pay me back really if that was your intention. I just wanted to help. What's your... Designation, anyways?" He asked, taking to his implement from her servos, leaning it on his shoulder for the time being.

“Silversong…” She replied, finally looking back to D-16. Silversong smiled with her optics, the very edges of her eyes slightly raising with the gentlest pull of her cheeks to perform the warm expression, “… And you, stranger?”

He smiled at her in turn, his expression a little worn out but it didn't stop him from offering a gentle expression back. His optics softening at the sight. He then placed his hand to his chassis, introducing himself, "I'm D-16. Nice to meet you, Silversong."

A trickle of humor ran through him and in the moment. He kept his hand to his chest and bowed his helm, nearly dipping the front of his frame in a regal manner.

Out of surprise, Silversong softly chuckled at his little bow, amused by the rather friendly gesture. She raised a servo to conceal her lips and thought for a moment. She wanted to continue talking, maybe longer if she could but the moment was severed into two and the reminder came in the form of another bot who had arrived, clapping D-16 on the shoulder-plate with a loud "clang!".

Silversong had nearly forgotten that there was work to be done, and internally deflated once the moment of reprieve slipped from her. But still, she persisted in her idle expression, watching the interaction. D-16, in his confused state twisted his helm to listen to--who she assumed was a friend of D-16.

"C'mon, Dee! I just found a rich energon vein over here, if we mine this, we'll probably be able to take the rest of our shift off for the day!” Orion Pax exclaimed optimistically, almost dragging D-16 away, unaware that he was talking to someone.

D-16 stiffened and felt his pedes drag a couple inches into the ground as Orion seemed determined to show him this energon vein, looking up to Silversong, who only bid him farewell in the form of a slow wave and a reserved smile. He would've returned the gesture, but by then she had already looked away.

D-16 slowly turned around to right himself back onto his pedes and fell into line beside Orion, looking behind him before, shaking his helm at Orion's blind optimism. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd hope that Silversong didn't think of his sudden departure as rude or anything... Stealing another quick glance back and--she was gone.

His lips pursed and his optics dimmed, sighing. He looked over to Orion and recovered his expression to an exasperated smile, rolling his optics, "Yeah, yeah..." D-16 cracked his knuckles and briefly went back to pick up his drill, dragging it along.

"I hope you're not just lying so we don't have to mine as much. Let's just just hurry and get this done with,"

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Remember: The burning sensation is part of the process.

[that-butch-archivist]

Making a birthday cake for a friend tonight (something I haven't done for a while), and I forgot how much I love baking & cake decorating. I'll post pics when I'm done, I'm very excited. 🥰

[bumblingbabooshka]

Archery Science Professor at the Vulcan Institute of Defensive Arts [Patreon | Commissions]

[kanmom51]

Time to wrap up and close shop.

3 years.

That takes us back to when?

2020?

I guess it is time for me to say my goodbyes, accept that JM and JK are not together and that Tae and JK are married.

But...

Before I go, I guess I have a few questions...

Can't help but wonder when this happened and how exactly Tae agreed to marry JK after JK sucked on his soulmate's ear and tattooed his soulmate's name on his hand.

Was it before or after Tae's soulmate sucked on JK's neck and JK, his husband then already (?) paraded said hickey around for all to see, caressing it so lovingly and proudly?

Kind of wondering how this marriage is working back in 2020-21 with JK and JM living together.

So, Taekook married while JK is keeping on holding JM?

And bridal carrying JM in LV.

And telling JM he loves him out loud and the finger hearts.

Always the finger hearts.

Wow, what a show JK was putting on...

Talk about dedication.

Hiding out in a dark corner touching... JK probably knew the camera was coming, he had to. Same with his arm on JM's waist.

And talking about waists... was this really necessary?

And all these latest lives. It must have been Tae's way of supporting his soulmate. Must have been. No other explanation why his hubby would be acting like a love sick puppy every single time JM showed up in the comments, or dedicate a full 90 minute live to JM.

See that smile?

Definitely put on, and all for the love of his beloved husband, who, btw didn't publicly congratulate his soulmate himself for his first solo album, or for his record breaking achievements. Nope. He sent JK to do it for the two of them.

Ok, I guess the joke is over.

Because if I don't stop here there might just be some that will actually think I'm serious.

Taekookers are reeling. They are devastated and throwing punches in every direction possible.

This one, TKK being married for 3 years is a new one. Well, sorry, I lie. Not first time I've heard the marriage story. The 3 years is new. The level of delusion here is wow, hard to describe. The story I heard was of marriage in LV, adoption of 2 little American kids, living with Tae at home. Sorry, with Taekook at Tae's. These beautiful children they adopted in LV and are now raising together.

So yeah, there's that level of delusion.

Now with Taenni out and public we have new stories.

We have the denial, of course, with the stories about cosplayers, all disproven (these fuckers stooped so low they stole a woman's photos claiming her to be the Jenni cosplayer only for her to go public about it).

And then you have those that are still towing the line and claiming it's all a publicity stunt.

Cause yep, the 2 super popular idols in the 2 biggest Kpop bands in the world need to have a supposed relationship to boost either of their popularity and help their careers.

Fucking morons.

a. Seriously? These two need that to boost their publicity. These two rival companies working hand in hand to create this fake relationship going on for over 18 months to what? Have Tae go from 58.8 million followers to 58.9 million. Talk about a failure of such an elaborate plan... Lest we forget about the hate Jenni has been getting all this time from TKKs all this time. Definitley a publicity stunt.

b. I'm infuriated at how ignorant these people are. Because with even minimal understanding of Kpop culture they would know that for an idol to go public with a relationship there is a price to pay. Idols don't have the right to have private lives. They don't have the right to have relationships, especially not in the prime of their success. the very few who had gone public with their relationships in the past had done so before marriage. They apologised for having a personal life.

Moon Hee Jun, Taeyang, Chen, Bobby.

The fact that there are so few of them should be an indicator as how this really is not a career helping move.

Having a personal life, being in a relationship, being emotionally unavailable for your fans is not a publicity stunt in Kpop. It can be a career killer. And even if it doesn't kill the career, it definitley does not promote it, quite the opposite in the short run.

And Tae, well he's already paying a price. We already saw all the angry fan messages about how they were betrayed by him, about how he's supposed to be theirs. Putting him together with JK is an easy fix, it's not realistic, it keeps him available for them (well in their twisted minds).

So yeah, definitely not a publicity stunt.

And then you have those that are turning on him. Well on the whole maknae line, because why not? Why not bring JK and JM in on this if you can (especially JM, right)?

The ones that are mad that he is in an actual relationship with another woman, the scorned.

The ones that are now angry claiming the maknae line were queerbaiting.

Like wtf?

How in the fucking hell were TKK queerbaiting?

Real genuine affection for the others? Yes.

Fanservice? Heck yeah.

Tae is the king of fanservice and teasing and flirting with the members. He loooooves it. And some play along more than others. As a matter of fact JK is one of those that plays along the least. But again, TKKs lack the brain capacity to watch original content and see that.

The hugs and affection and closeness isn't put on. It's genuine.

As for JM and JK, well they aren't fucking queerbaiting. They are just literally f***ing.

When Taenni did this, went public (and again, this was their choice of doing, walking hand in hand by the Saines river, identifiable managers walking 5 steps behind, Tae stopping to give autographs to fans),

I knew this would come back to hit us too. But you know what? I don't mind it. I love Tae and Jenni for this. They are very brave, both could pay a price for it. Tae is literally telling us all, the industry and the fans, that his personal life takes precedent. I love him for that.

We talk about BTS being the trailblazers, and this is the start of it....I hope.

[uncanny-tranny]

I think another aspect of conservative thought people need to understand is the idea that it's all about dominance.

The reason why sayings like "we don't want to trans your kids, we want trans kids to live" is because, in the conservative mind, you are replacing their dominance with your own. It can never be about what is best for others, it is always about expressing absolute power and control.

Natural selection, at its ideal, will weed out the people who "shouldn't live." If their existence is a threat to the already-established hierarchy, then it's obvious that they shouldn't exist in order to challenge hierarchy.

While this certainly isn't a "conservative-only" mindset, it's a trend I have noticed more in conservative spaces. This is why I don't always think it's helpful to go on about how, "Oh, we don't want to threaten your worldview. We just want people to live 😊". You will fundamentally be threatening their power in their minds. Therefore, nothing you say can truly take away from the anxiety, fear, and anger at losing control that may be instilled.