#at least not in any way i had success with

[multipleoccupancy]

Satisfied that whatever hesitations she had originally had since faded, Sloane accepted her confirmation but was more grateful of the explanation when it came. "I see," he acknowledged but didn't seem all that worried about it or put off. "Thank you for explaining, and for agreeing to the work. There will be no need for you to be near any edges or the like, just the widow which I am sure will be safe." They didn't tend to open all that far but she could certainly aim the crossbow through them.

"You may find that you spot the monster before we do while you're up there but it'll be worth waiting for it to go into your trap before firing anything." That made sense right? No point in scaring it off if they had the means to capture the mutated student.

Theo followed Samantha back towards Sloane and Violet, quickly fixing his hair with his hands as he went with at least some success as they drew up to them again. His heart getting just a little bit faster as he accepted they were now at the point where they had to kick their plan into action.

However, Samantha opened up such a golden opportunity that he couldn't resist offering one more laugh as he spoke to Violet but to also wind up his fellow agents. "You'll be way better than either of these two anyway." He encouraged with a light laugh and another short little wink to Violet. He still wasn't fond of the plan but he would do his part in any case. That's what they did.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

"Oh." Violet was terribly relieved. A room with a window was much less scary than a roof. "Yes, I can do that." She was so glad that she wouldn't have to stand on the edge of a roof, that she didn't realize Sloane was trying to keep her as far away from the fight as possible.

She blushed, embarrassed. Somehow, she feared that admitting any weakness would confirm in his eyes that she was too young for this. That he shouldn't trust her with a weapon. But he had noticed her discomfort and so she figured it was best to tell him the truth. "I'm scared of heights," she admitted, "I fell from a great height, and since then I just..." She shook her head. "But I'll be fine aiming from a window." As long as she could feel the hard, reassuring floor beneath her feet.

Samantha was about to tickle him again for his comment about the cans, but when she noticed that Sloane and Violet were having a serious conversation, she simply nudged him back with her elbow and nodded. The hours had passed, and the time to put their plan into motion had come.

"Ready to be our stealth archer?" she asked Violet, smiling, as she walked up to her. "After seeing you in action, I know I'm gonna be well protected out there."

[misspelledwordswizard]

ok, we see waterbending and bloodbending but what about firebending and lightningbending?

I think the Chain going to be crazy see reader redirects a lightning un middle of the battle.

Thank you so much for the request, I really love writing about this! Mixing fandons might be my weakness… hope you like it <3

The dark sky was barely lit by the moon, which was hidden by the dark, heavy clouds, dumping heavy gusts of rain on the world below. The wind howled loudly, carrying the rain with it and making the experience all the more extreme in itself, it was as if the forces of nature were determined to prevent us from advancing. 

All this chaos was experienced by our group of ten, somewhat distant at the moment, while we still had to deal with the horde of monsters that followed right behind us. Due to the darkness and the heavy rain, we had made a mistake, without seeing the monster camp a little further ahead of us, all we could do was try to create distance to gain some time and think of a decent strategy to deal with them. 

The group of lizalfos seemed more than determined to pursue us, without giving us any room to counterattack. Shit, if only I could firebend now. It was no surprise to the heroes that I had a “special” ability to control and produce fire, the firebending that I was so proud of, and my main form of defense, but it wouldn’t be very effective in heavy rain like now. 

The rain seemed to intensify as we advanced, out of the corner of my eye I could see the team aiming arrows at the monsters, I preferred to stay focused on the path in front of me, but from the sound that echoed I could assume that he had hit at least one. Good. The others were trying their best in this situation, looking for various creative ways to achieve some kind of success. 

I felt useless, incapable, too dependent on firebending. Of course I have some experience in hand-to-hand combat, with arrows or bladed weapons, but I almost never use them, after all, why would I do that when a few body movements were enough for me to fight my enemies? Well, now I understand. In the distance I could hear the sound of thunder echoing in the sky, making me shiver. 

The cold of the rain was starting to affect me, I felt my frozen body tremble and my teeth chatter as I continued to advance. A real nuisance. It was when I turned to see how far we had gotten from the group of monsters that I became careless, tripping over a tree root and hitting the ground without further ado. I acted on instinct, trying to get up as quickly as possible when I saw a particular lizalfo coming towards me, approaching at speed, I felt unbalanced, trying to defend myself without even thinking, as I would do with firebending, I closed my eyes in fear as I did, realizing that it would have no effect, but now it was too late to stop.  

The loud sound of thunder echoed in the sky and at the same moment I felt a tingling electricity pass through my entire body, I felt alive, as if my brain sent a high dose of adrenaline to my body. The sensation was different from anything I had ever experienced, it seemed crazy.  I opened my eyes just in time to see the effects of the movements, seeing the lightning strike the monster that was just a few meters away from me, leaving it stunned. 

Did I do that? 

It wasn’t too hard to associate the action with the lightningbending that I had witnessed only once in my life, a long time ago, but that I never thought I would be able to reproduce. I could feel my heart beating fast, my body heating up as I recovered from my shock. How ironic. 

I blinked a few times before realizing again that I was in a dangerous situation, running again to gain distance, now more confident, but still unsure if I would be able to reproduce what I had done. I noticed some looks of surprise and concern coming my way as I reached the rest of the group, but not everyone seemed to have noticed my little discovery. When I considered myself to be at a safe distance, I tried again, remembering how I felt in that moment of pure panic and adrenaline.   

Before I could realize it, my surroundings were being illuminated by the lightning I produced, redirected to the monsters who were suffering without being able to react due to the high voltage that was passing through, until they turned to dust. I felt my head hurt and my heart raced, maybe this was all a bit too much for me at the moment, but luckily for me, I was not alone. Several arrows came from behind me, hitting the remaining monsters, while some of the heroes took the opportunity to get closer and deliver the final blow with their swords, finishing off the rest of the monsters. 

All tired of the rush and adrenaline, we could finally breathe again. I threw myself on the ground, enjoying the feeling of relief that overcame me while a fit of laughter hit me, making me receive confused looks. Who would have thought, right? I managed to calm myself down while breathing heavily trying to calm myself down, the rain now seemed like a relief to my overheated body. 

— I didn’t know I could do that. – Sky’s voice reached me, making me look at him and smile, as confused as he was. 

— Yeah, I didn’t know either. 

— That was really cool! – Wind exclaimed, throwing himself next to me and making me laugh. The others seemed to agree with the brat, yeah, I thought it was really cool too. 

Everyone took advantage of this moment to relax a little and catch their breath, all very exhausted after a long day and a not-so-fun chase. The sound of thunder now seemed more like a victory song, making me feel, in a way, powerful. But not powerful enough to deal with the freezing rain, apparently, because all it took was a sneeze from me for na uproar to start among the men in the group, something between scolding me for getting caught in the rain and looking for a dry and safe place to spend the night, as quickly as possible. 

[whatdoidosatoru]

crybaby

farmer x sebastian (stardew valley) wc: 1.4k it's raining and you're crying in sebastian's spot. that's it, that's the plot. cw: smoking, general feeling of inadequacy

“shit,” the water splashed as my feet came down on the surface repeatedly. “shit shit shit SHIT!” rubbing my hands over my tear-stained face, i kept disturbing the ocean, sitting on the end of the deserted pier in the rain throwing a tantrum like a child, very unlike what a ‘functional adult’ is expected to do. “FUCK!”

i let out my frustration, days of held-back emotions because ya gotta keep on truckin’... at least that’s what my dad had started saying when i’d call home in anger and despair, venting about how i must be useless, how my crops aren’t growing the way they should, how the damn crows just picked apart my most successful plant, how i don’t have time to shower, and not to mention eat proper food. ya gotta keep on truckin’ - fuck you, i don’t even have a truck.

“you think you’re gonna be here long or…?”

the sudden question caught me off guard, coming from an unfamiliar male voice. with the damn rain muffling every and any noise, i didn’t even hear the footsteps coming from behind me.

i sniffled, lowering my hands to grip the edge of the pier, contemplating just pushing myself off into the moody ocean, letting the current take me wherever, just far enough away from this life i’m messing up.

“i dunno.”

my voice cracked as i turned my head to the side to confirm my guess, the figure standing slightly behind me was none other than the town’s moody loner. at least that’s what i’d heard from some people. some name starting with an ‘s’.

my answer to his question didn’t seem to deter him, instead of leaving me to at least keep some of my leftover dignity, he stepped forward, coming more into my line of vision before sitting down beside me, his legs dangling off the edge just like mine.

i thought about introducing myself, but i doubted i could string together a coherent sentence without sobbing. nevertheless, i opened my mouth, ready to embarrass myself by whining out my name, but he just kept looking out into the horizon.

“i’m-” “i know.”

the abruptness of his words cutting me off shocked me enough to stop crying. my brows furrowed and my feet stopped splashing into the water while i gathered my thoughts.

he simply kept looking out, now taking a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it while holding a hand over the end, keeping the flame from being extinguished by the slight breeze and the drizzle. i shook my head when he offered me a cigarette, so his hand was quick to put the pack into his pocket again so it didn’t get wet.

the smoke was almost enchanting as it came out of his mouth and i had to force myself to look ahead, for the love of yoba, don’t stare at his lips. i tried again, this time clearing my throat before attempting to at least pretend to be civil.

“you di-” “we don’t have to talk, just shut up and enjoy the weather.”

this time his words made me close my mouth instantly. i couldn’t remember the last time i was spoken to like that. back home, everyone wore their fake smiles, they called you sweetie, said ‘no worries’ way too much, and expected the same in return.

even here, where everyone knew my grandpa, i was only a replacement for the old farmer. a failing replacement. a whole set of expectations already placed on my shoulders before i even stepped onto Pelican Town soil.

i took the time to steady my breathing, to stop these fat tears streaming down my reddened cheeks. after several minutes of silence only broken by the soft noise of raindrops meeting the surface of the water, i took a few deeper breaths and turned my head to the side again, this time letting myself look over his features in the least obvious way i could manage.

“so…” i started, giving him a second to interrupt me again, “do i have to look for a new crying spot?”

the perfectly raised eyebrow used to respond to my, admittedly stupid, line was nearly enough to make me choke on my own tongue. his face showed very little other than slight annoyance, probably at having ‘his spot’ taken by a messy-haired crybaby with stupid muddy overalls and dirt under their nails.

despite the sour expression, i had to admit to myself that he had a pretty face, along with a tempting set of lips that looked soft as they housed that nearly finished cigarette between them. he swore under his breath, lifting his lighter again to relight the end, trying to finish those last few drags before stubbing it out.

that last stream of smoke changed directions, now blowing towards me for a moment, a sure sign that he turned his head to look at me… or at least in my direction.

his voice carried a little less irritation than before, but he still didn’t sound too friendly.

“depends. you plan on crying a lot?”

i snorted. i actually snorted, immediately feeling mortified at myself and covering my mouth, in utter disbelief at myself. from the corner of my eye i saw his lips twitch, like he was a little proud of himself for my reaction.

though still a bit shaky, my voice seemed to be coming out fine, no stutters, no breaking.

“can’t say i have it in my calendar.”

and just like that, a pleasant silence envelops the air around us. he lit another cigarette, offering me one from the pack again to which i shook my head, instead picking up my feet from the water, sitting cross-legged.

the sky didn’t clear and the rain started coming down a little harder now. my hair was sticking to my forehead, doing the same to him though he didn’t seem to mind it. if anything, he looked right at home with darker spots of raindrops on the shoulders of his hoodie and his long side-swept fringe dripping with water.

the rain suited him.

he smoked another cigarette, stubbing it on the dark planks of the pier before putting the end into a small tin that i hadn't noticed before. it disappeared from my sight back into his pocket.

despite not needing to speak, i still felt a little odd not knowing his name.

sam had mentioned it, they were best friends, but much like a lot of things the rest of the townspeople had said through overcheerful smiles, it seemed to have vanished from my memory. i gave my throat a little hum before speaking with a pointed question in my tone.

“so uhm…” “sebastian.” “right.”

i couldn't cry next to him, but somehow it didn't feel suffocating. it wasn't weighing on me. i could breathe. so i pulled a wrinkled tissue out of my pocket and wiped my nose, clearing my throat a few more times before settling with my fingers absentmindedly tracing the stitching of my overalls.

sebastian was still looking out into the distance, looking like he was contemplating all of life’s mysteries at once with his bare feet slowly moving just under the surface of the ocean. his dark jeans were rolled up to the middle of his calves.

we sat like that until the sky got even darker and the bats started calling out to their friends. i noticed how sebastian’s head snapped up to look for the source of the noise, his lips curling into a small smirk in appreciation of the animal nightlife.

he sighed and took his feet out of the water, shaking off the droplets before putting his socks and shoes back on.

“you don't have to look.”

finally, his voice didn't sound like i was a nuisance to his peace. i looked up at him, my eyebrow raised in question, to which he rolled his eyes, though not unfriendly.

“for a new spot, i mean. i didn't mind sharing.”

he turned and left. for a while, my eyes were on his back, watching as his figure got smaller and smaller, but as he disappeared with only his footprints left in the sand, i felt like i could smile again, even just a little.

i sat on the pier for a little longer before getting up and padding barefoot through the damp sand and wet streets, making my way to the farm. the entire way home i thought about him. the entire time swearing to myself that i’ll try again, learn from my mistakes, and make sure i live to honour my grandpa’s memory while bettering myself. and next time i see sebastian, i won't be crying.

[vonlycaonwife]

Wise, Billy, Ben, Anton, and Lycaon w/ shy and oblivious reader hcs

I decided to combine a couple of similar requests together into one because it seemed easier! Plus I thought this combo would be more interesting together then separated!

Warnings: none

Oh boy, if the teasing from Belle wasn't bad enough when he was sure it was just him crushing. Then it's way worse once Fairy enters the picture.

Fairy very much had to spell it out to him that they were crushing hard on him! He just thought they were socially awkward!

Now he has no idea what to do! He was fine! But now seeing the obvious signs makes him all shy and awkward too. Belle and Fairy are having a field day in the back.

Though once he's given himself a big enough pep talk, he doesn't really have any trouble trying to ask them for a date.

…at least he didn't think it would be that hard. But now he's dealing with a whole ‘nother issue! They're oblivious! Belle is cackling at his dilemma!

All I can say is good luck to him, he's gonna need it.

Nicole, Anby, and Nekomata are all screaming internally at these two! 

There's no hope for them, no matter how much they've tried to just outright tell either of then it doesn't work!

“Whaaaaat? Psh! No way! They don't have a crush on me.” Billy for the love of all that is holy THEY BLUSH ALL THE TIME YOU ARE NEAR!

“H-Huh?! M-Me? N-No way!” …my friend Billy has only let you hold his guns, he doesn't even let the other hares do that!

Even Wise and Belle have a hard time getting the both of them to understand their feelings are mutual, and they have a higher success rate!

Okay I can see Ben having a better time than the last two solely because he would be very genuine in his confession that even the most oblivious person wouldn't be able to misinterpret it.

But getting to that point is the hard part, as I can see him first thinking that the reason they're nervous around him is because they're scared of him. 

It would take a lot of convincing from the other Belobog employees to make him think otherwise.

And then the next challenge comes in, trying to find the best time to talk. Honestly this would be the biggest hurdle since he would be very busy working on the company's finances.

But once he has the time, he definitely takes this opportunity to tell them about how he feels!

Yeah…this is basically the same as Billy. The others are screaming at the double obliviousness. 

It doesn't help when Anton is constantly calling them his bro, which makes things worse. 

Belobog's only hope is to just stick these two into a closet and wait until they finally say something, even then there's a chance it just makes things even worse!

Honestly I'm praying for these two, and everyone trying to help them.

This man has a way better chance than everyone, since he wouldn't need to be told that they're crushing on him like the others. He probably already knew.

He knows he's handsome, so it wouldn't be hard to pinpoint exactly why they're so shy around him. If anything Rina would be able to confirm his suspicions easily if he needed a second opinion.

Though for him to go about confessing, that's where his troubles lie. Since while he would be making these romantic gestures, it would catch him off guard when they're misinterpreted as platonic.

Luckily he's usually able to bounce back quite easily, quickly explaining his intentions. King of communication here.

Honestly it would be hard for him not to be successful at confessing since he's very thorough in making sure his feelings are known.

[notiddygothgf]

1. Fucking Great

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ You're desperate. It's not attractive. ❞

★ c.w.: drinking

★ a/n: finals have been literally beating me to the ground like a dog but. im finally free. OMFG!!! to celebrate, i wanted to drop a lil special sum sum for u guys, even though i wasn't planning on updating again so soon. Make sure to comment and interact and whatever, I love hearing from you guys!!!

★ w.c: .4.2k

call out my name ; chapter index

PEOPLE SAY DIVORCE never gets easier. That simply is not the case. In fact, after your fourth or fifth one, moving on became second nature. Then again, that’s easier said than done – especially when it’s your job.

A little background – you were a Temporary Wife. You worked for an organization called NewlyWeds, through which bachelors, lonely men, those with far too much time (and money), and the like could “rent” wives… so to speak.

The reasons for needing a fake wife were as varied as the men themselves. 

For some, it was a matter of societal expectations—warding off nosy relatives at family gatherings or appeasing traditional parents who couldn’t bear the thought of an unmarried son. Others needed a polished facade for their careers, a stable "marriage" being the key to promotions or winning over conservative clients. Some wanted a sexual companion (which was not your area of specialty – in fact, you had never stooped low enough to actually sleep with any of your so-called husbands). And then there were the lonely ones, men who craved companionship without the complications of real commitment. 

What better way to fill the void than with a year-long marriage contract?

Whether it was to silence judgmental whispers, project an image of success, or fill an emotional void, the demand for a temporary wife was steady and unrelenting. It was your job to play the part flawlessly. And you were damn good at it. Five happy husbands – four, if you don’t count the dead one – were a testament to that. 365 Days per contract, and not a single unhappy customer so far.

Marriage was a way to pay the bills. Nothing more.

So why did this one make you feel so nervous? 

As you crossed the threshold to your new husband’s house, you couldn’t help but feel a little… well, anxious, to say the least. Your suitcase rolled to a stop behind you – a sizeable one, one that had your clothes and essentials. Of course, you would more than likely purchase more a little further down the road. For now, though, a suitcase was all you needed. 

One year. One suitcase. One ginormous house.

You had to crane your head all the way back to look at the ceiling. House is a bit of an understatement… Grey walls opened up into the foyer, where a grand staircase spiraled up to the second floor. A sleek, minimalistic design with tasteful decor. A chandelier hung in the middle of it all, what had to have been hundreds of glass pieces glimmering with light. 

Mansion would have been a better word. In all of your 5 marriages, you had never stayed anywhere so lavish. Then again, you supposed you had to have a lot of money to afford a fake wife.

He knew I was coming at some point today, you thought to yourself. It was dead silent in the house. I wonder where he is?

You towed your suitcase over to the door perpendicular to the stairs. According to the briefing you had read on the way here, you would be setting up shop in the guest bedroom, that way you could make room for all of your stuff (not that there was much of it). The guest room allegedly was tucked away near the staircase, so you tried the handle.

When it gave, you pushed the door the rest of the way open. The guest bedroom was pretty sizable. A queen sized bed with neatly tucked black sheets, a sleek, dark-oak closet with a matching furniture set, and a nightstand with a pretty lamp and a vase of flowers on it.

This is one hell of a guest room, you reasoned. It put the measly back room in your old shithole apartment to shame.

With a great amount of effort, you hauled your suitcase onto the bed, unzipping it and viewing its contents. Then, slowly, you began to unpack – setting neatly folded clothes aside, organizing them by season and type.

You changed out of your travel attire, a tailored suit and pencil skirt, which now felt constrictive and far too formal for the empty house. Digging through your suitcase, you pulled out a pair of comfortable leggings and an oversized sweater—neutral tones, soft fabric, nothing too flashy. Something “homely,” as your job often required. Sliding into the cozy ensemble, you felt the tension ease from your shoulders, the weight of first impressions temporarily set aside.

With your outfit taken care of, you turned to the task of settling in. The guest bedroom was pristine, almost unsettlingly so. You hadn’t expected a mess, but the level of order was borderline clinical. Not a single speck of dust marred the dark wood surfaces, and the flowers on the nightstand seemed freshly arranged. You suspected they were artificial, the kind that stayed perfect forever. It gave the room an impersonal feel, as though it belonged to no one in particular. Temporary, like you.

“Well,” you muttered under your breath, running your hand along the smooth surface of the dresser. “Guess I’m not the only one passing through.”

After organizing your belongings in the spacious closet, which felt like overkill for the modest amount of clothing you’d brought, you decided to explore. The house was massive—mansion, you corrected yourself again—and you figured you’d better learn your way around before embarrassing yourself by getting lost.

Starting in the foyer, you took in the grandeur once more. The chandelier overhead sparkled like a constellation, its light refracting across the grey walls and polished floors. You wandered into the living room, where sleek furniture—a monochrome mix of black, white, and grey—was arranged with a precision that felt more suited to a showroom than a home. A massive flat-screen TV dominated one wall, but it was spotless, devoid of fingerprints or smudges. No cozy throw blankets, no scattered magazines, no signs of life.

The kitchen was similarly sterile. White countertops stretched endlessly, interrupted only by high-tech appliances that gleamed under the recessed lighting. Not a single mug or dish sat in the sink, and the pantry—when you dared to peek inside—was meticulously organized, though oddly sparse. A few boxes of cereal, some canned goods, and a row of bottled water. No clutter. No warmth.

“Does anyone even live here?” you wondered aloud. The silence was your only answer. No photographs adorned the walls or countertops, no hints of personality or history. It was as though the house existed solely for appearances.

Your unease deepened as you ascended the grand staircase. The second floor was just as immaculate, the long hallway lined with closed doors. You passed a library—if you could call it that—a room filled with books arranged in perfect alphabetical order, the spines unbroken. It smelled faintly of leather and wood polish, not the warm, musty scent of well-loved pages.

Finally, you reached the master bedroom. Aki’s room.

You hesitated at the threshold, hand hovering over the doorknob. This was his space, his sanctuary. You were here to do a job, not invade his privacy. But then you remembered the briefing. Part of your role was to ensure everything ran smoothly, to maintain the illusion of a harmonious household. That included housekeeping duties. Squaring your shoulders, you turned the knob and stepped inside.

The room was as impersonal as the rest of the house, though it carried a faint trace of its occupant. The bed, a king-sized monolith with crisp, white linens, was unmade, the only imperfection you’d seen so far. The furniture matched the sleek, dark aesthetic of the guest room, but there were no personal touches. No photos on the nightstands, no trinkets or mementos.

Your gaze shifted to the walk-in closet, its door slightly ajar. Curiosity tugged at you, and you couldn’t resist taking a peek. Inside, you found rows upon rows of clothing, organized with military precision. Suits dominated the space—tailored jackets, crisp dress shirts, and neatly pressed trousers in shades of black, grey, and navy. Sweaters and casual wear were tucked away at the back, their softer fabrics and muted colors almost an afterthought. Everything was of impeccable quality, from the silk ties to the polished leather shoes lined up along the floor – everything except for the lone pair of beat-up converse hidden just out of plain sight.

So he’s got an edgy side, you thought, stepping back to close the door. Whatever picture you were beginning to form of Aki was still incomplete, but one thing was clear: this man valued control and order.

You decided to mind your business and focus on your task. Returning to the bedroom, you stripped the bed, bundling the linens into a neat pile. The mattress beneath was bare and spotless, further testament to the house’s almost eerie cleanliness. As you worked, your mind wandered.

Why had he hired you? The briefing had been thorough, but it was always the practical details: the contract, the expectations, the rules. It never delved into the personal motivations behind the arrangement. Was he one of the lonely ones, craving companionship without complications? Or was this a calculated move, a facade for career or family? This place was unnerving in its perfection. You’d lived in luxurious homes before, but they’d always carried a sense of life, of personality. This house felt like a stage, a beautiful but hollow set piece.

None of my business, you reminded yourself firmly. You’d learned early on not to pry. The men who hired you weren’t looking for therapists or confidants. They wanted a wife, and you were here to play the part. Nothing more.

With the sheets bundled under one arm, you headed to the laundry room.

Aki always looked forward to Fridays. It was her day. Every Friday at 7 o’clock sharp, his wife – yes, not yet ex wife, because they hadn’t actually started the process of a divorce yet – would meet him at Prime Cut for a steak dinner. They would undoubtedly catch up, talk about the week they had spent apart, and Aki would inevitably try to convince her to take him back like the pathetic man he was.

His watch read 6:59. She was always punctual. 

Anxiously, he fiddled with his appearance – smoothing his hands over his suit jacket, his slacks, his hair. He couldn’t see how he looked, but he hoped he looked put together. His eyes darted around nervously, searching for signs of her.

And there, at 7 o’clock sharp, she walked in. He caught a glimpse of her hair first – pink locks braided into that signature hairstyle of hers that he had grown to love. The one he had seen her do in the early hours of the morning before they had to leave for work; boar-hair brush combing through the rosy strands while she braided them. He would sit on the bed and watch her like the lovestruck fool he was.

Makima looked as polished as ever.

Aki stood up, walking over to the other side of the table and pulling the chair out for her (again, like the dog he was). She took it, muttering a soft, Thanks, and Aki’s heart soared at the sound, at the smell of her. She carried the aroma of something floral and fresh, a new perfume, no doubt. Aki, as desperate as ever, wore the same cologne he wore when the two of them were still husband and wife (as opposed to whatever they were now) in the selfish hope that she might be reminded of those days.

He cleared his throat, heart racing against his ribcage. “How was your trip over here?” He asked. “You look lovely.”

Makima smiled, adjusting the hem of her pretty red dress, the one with a low-cut neckline that revealed a tasteful amount of cleavage and accentuated the beautiful curves of her body. “It was provincial.”

"Provincial?" he echoed with a faint smile, his attempt at humor falling flat. "Did you walk here?”

"Why would I?" she teased, her tone light but her gaze sharp. She picked up the menu without waiting for his response, flipping through it leisurely. "Let’s not waste time, Aki. Order for me. You know what I like."

"Of course," he murmured, signaling the waiter. His hands trembled slightly as he recited her usual order—A glass-and-a-half of merlot, and a beer for him.

The silence between them stretched thin as they waited for their food. Aki cleared his throat again, desperate to fill the void. "Work’s been… busy. I had a case this week that reminded me of the ones we used to handle together."

Makima arched an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. "Still clinging to the past, I see."

They had only been apart for six months, in his defense. Compared to the eight years they had spent together, it wasn’t nearly enough time.

"I’m not clinging," he lied, his voice cracking slightly. "Just… reminiscing."

"Hmm," she hummed noncommittally, taking a sip of her water. "And how’s your health? Still smoking like a chimney?"

"I’ve cut back," he said quickly, eager to please. "Only a couple a day now."

Her lips curled into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "Progress, I suppose."

The tension between them was palpable, and Aki felt himself floundering. He reached into his pocket, fingers brushing against the small velvet box he’d been carrying all week. Taking a deep breath, he pulled it out and set it on the table between them.

Makima’s eyes flicked to the box, her expression finally betraying a glimmer of curiosity. "What’s this?"

"A gift," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "For you."

She hesitated for a moment before picking up the box, her manicured fingers deftly undoing the clasp. Inside was a pair of delicate diamond earrings, the stones catching the soft light of the restaurant. They were understated but elegant, just like her.

"They reminded me of you," Aki said, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure she could hear it. "I thought… I thought you might like them."

Makima studied the earrings for a long moment before closing the box with a soft click. "They’re lovely," she said, her tone neutral. 

“Try them on,” Aki implored her.

“I’ll try them on later,” She replied, and Aki visibly deflated at the words.

A tense moment passed, and then, finally Aki acknowledged the elephant in the room, “How is everything with your… your husband?”

The words felt like knives in his chest.

Makima tilted her head slightly, a faint smile gracing her lips. "My marriage is… good. Stable. He’s dependable, attentive, and he listens." Her tone was measured, almost clinical, as though she were describing a well-functioning machine rather than a relationship. "Everything I’ve always wanted."

Aki felt his stomach drop, her words a cold slap to his face. He tried to smile, nodding as though he could be happy for her, but the ache in his chest told a different story. "That’s good," he murmured, his voice hollow. "I’m glad."

But he wasn’t glad. Not even a little. 

The image of her with another man, sharing the moments that had once been his, twisted like a knife in his gut. He wanted to be the bigger person, to wish her well and mean it, but the truth was, he couldn’t. Not when every word she spoke felt like another reminder of how he had failed her. 

Instead, what came out was, “I don’t know why you want to go through with this fake marriage stuff. It doesn't make sense. How long are you going to drag this out?”

“I’m happier this way,” She answered calmly, like she was talking about the weather and not her other marriage. “And you’re desperate. It’s not attractive.”

Her words hurt. Bad. The slightest flinch in his expression probably betrayed that much, but he couldn’t help it. She always knew exactly what to say to keep him up at night. 

With a frown, he retorted, “You’re punishing me. What do I have to do to show you I’m sorry?”

Makima’s demeanor shifted enough for Aki to know he had pissed her off – even if she didn’t explicitly say it. Her eyes darkened, glazed over with that apathetic haze he hated as she asked, “I’m punishing you?”

Aki said nothing, letting his gaze fall to the floor. She was right. For what he did, he probably deserved this.

“Do  you really not understand the gravity of your situation?” She added, as if asking him to reiterate didn’t hurt enough. Her hands were folded neatly atop the table, lips pressed into a thin line, eyes full of nothing but apathy – yet her words bore a sharpness that cut deep. “Every day that I had to wake up and look at you was my punishment. I’m doing you a favor.”

When he said nothing, she continued, “If you don’t go through with this, Aki, you will never… see me again. I can promise you that much.”

His stomach was tied up in knots – a heady feeling of nausea burning its way up the back of his throat. It felt as if his heart had been ripped right out of his chest. Still, though he felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, he built up the strength to nod.

He deserved this, didn’t he? 

“Let’s wrap up early,” Makima sighed, dusting off her lap and standing up. “I can eat at home.”

Aki’s gaze flitted up to her, heart racing. “What?” He tried, “Sit down, let’s eat. You’ve only been here for a little while.”

She didn’t even look at him as she shouldered her bag and gathered her belongings – including his earrings. “No, thanks,” She replied. “I lost my appetite,” When she was ready to go, she finally looked at Aki (and made him wish she hadn’t). “My husband is waiting outside.”

I’m your husband.

Not him.

Me.

Aki didn’t miss the way she put emphasis on the word husband – as if this little infatuation wasn’t a contractual one. Six months of this shit was enough to have him at his wits end. Again, the thought of her happy with someone else, even if it wasn’t real…. It was enough to drive him up the wall, keep him up at night.

He furrowed his brows, “I only get to see you once a week, Makima. Can’t we–”

“That’s more than enough,” She interjected. Again, her words cut deep. 

“We’re married,” He reminded her, though it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Could he even call their relationship a marriage? They lived in two separate homes, had two separate lives, and – as of today – had two separate spouses. “We’re supposed to see each other every day, if you want to be technical.”

“In principle, yes,” She added. Her voice was calm, calculated, but the message was harsh, “In practice, I can hardly bear to look at you. We’re not husband and wife anymore. If you want to keep seeing me, then that’s something you’ll have to come to terms with.”

Then, without so much as a goodbye, she walked away.

Aki sat there long after Makima had left, the cold, untouched plate of food mocking him as the restaurant buzzed on around him. His heart felt like it had been ripped to shreds and left on the table beside her empty chair. He tipped his head back, letting out a quiet breath, the warmth of the restaurant doing nothing to stave off the chill settling in his chest.  

His fingers brushed the rim of his glass, and before he could think better of it, he motioned to the waiter. "Another round," he said, his voice gruff.  

The drinks kept coming, and with every sip, the edges of his heartbreak dulled just a little. He told himself it wasn’t to drown his pain but to find clarity in the haze. Makima's words echoed in his mind, over and over: “We’re not husband and wife anymore."

By the time he paid the tab, his limbs felt heavy, his thoughts muddled. The world tilted slightly as he stood, stuffing his wallet into his jacket pocket. At least he didn’t have to drive, he thought, as he stepped out into the cool night air. The bar was only a few blocks away from his place, and walking was safe—safer than going home and facing the emptiness waiting for him there.  

But instead of heading to his apartment, his feet carried him somewhere else. He didn’t even realize where he was going until he stood at the corner near Makima’s building, the faint glow of her apartment windows visible against the dark sky.  

His better judgment screamed at him to turn back, to leave her alone. But drunk, heartbroken, and full of misplaced determination, Aki walked toward her building. The thought of her with him—her so-called “husband”—gnawed at his insides.  

His lips on her hand, her skin, her neck…

His stomach twisted. That box had meant something. He’d agonized over it—picked out the perfect earrings, wrapped it carefully, written her name in his cleanest handwriting. And now it sat here, abandoned, like it meant nothing at all.  

Aki’s jaw clenched as his gaze flicked up to the second-story window, drawn to the warm glow spilling out onto the street. She was there. Makima. Her silhouette was unmistakable, standing close—too close—to the man beside her. Aki’s breath hitched as she leaned in, her head tilting just enough for him to see the way her lips pressed against the other man’s.  

Not just a kiss. A deep, lingering one.  

The world around him spun as nausea clawed its way up his throat. His chest burned, his heart thudding painfully against his ribs. His hands balled into fists at his sides, and without thinking, he pulled out his phone, fumbling to unlock it with freezing, clumsy fingers.  

He tapped her name. The phone rang. Once. Twice. His eyes stayed glued to the window, hoping—praying—that she would step back, check her phone, and answer. But no. The call went to voicemail.  

“Ah, shit,” he muttered under his breath, tapping redial with shaking fingers.  

It rang again, louder in his ear this time, but it ended the same way. No answer.  

He let out a bitter laugh, his voice cracking under the weight of it all. Of course, she wouldn’t pick up. Not now.

He called one more time, his voice barely a whisper as he stared up at that now-dark window. “Pick up, damn it. Pick up.”  

Nothing.  

His gaze dropped back to the car, and the box sitting in the backseat felt like a cruel reminder of everything he’d lost—or maybe everything he never really had. His breathing quickened, the alcohol amplifying the surge of anger and humiliation in his chest. He spotted a rock near the edge of the driveway, half-buried in dirt.  

The rational part of him—the one that normally reined in his impulses—was drowning in whiskey and despair. He stumbled over, grabbed the rock, and staggered back toward the car.  

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he muttered, raising the jagged stone. “She’s ridiculous. I’m ridiculous.”  

The rock crashed through the car window with a deafening shatter. Glass sprayed across the seat as the alarm screamed into the cold night air. Aki winced at the sound, his heart pounding as he shoved his arm through the broken window to grab the box. The shards scratched his hand, but he didn’t care. He yanked the box out and stumbled back, clutching it tightly in his arms like it was some kind of trophy.  

But before he could even catch his breath, he saw it: the unmistakable flash of red and blue lights cutting through the darkness.  

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, his stomach dropping.  

A patrol car rolled up slowly, its headlights illuminating him in harsh, unforgiving light. He froze, his grip on the box tightening as two officers stepped out. One of them shone a flashlight directly into his face, and he squinted, raising a hand to shield his eyes.  

“Sir, step away from the vehicle,” one of them said firmly, their voice sharp and no-nonsense.  

Aki opened his mouth, but his brain was too foggy to form a coherent excuse. “Uh... I can explain—”  

“It looks like you broke into a car,” the other officer cut in, their tone laced with skepticism.  

“Yeah, okay, fine, it is what it looks like,” Aki admitted, the weight of the situation crashing down on him all at once.  

The officer sighed, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”  

“Come on,” Aki groaned, his voice slurred as he stumbled forward. “This isn’t... this isn’t even about the car, it’s—it’s personal.”  

“Personal or not, you just committed a crime,” the officer replied.  

Aki felt the cold steel of the cuffs bite into his wrists as they clicked shut. His head swam as they guided him toward the patrol car, the box slipping from his grasp and falling onto the pavement. He glanced back over his shoulder, his heart sinking further when he saw her apartment. The lights had gone out, the window now dark and empty.  

As they pushed him into the backseat of the car, Aki leaned his head against the window, closing his eyes. “Great,” he muttered bitterly. “Just fucking great.”

a/n: if you haven't already, you should totally read my other aki story, Shameless! okay thats all, bye lovelies, hope you enjoyed! stay tuned!!! x

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

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[estebanbicon]

nat...i mean i CAN believe it because it's fucking briatore and alpine...but truly what the fuck...

first of all this alleged gap to pierre. like obviously ALPINE would be complete dumbasses to openly discuss the qualifying gap that very conveniently overlapped with esteban joining haas/briatore officially being brought on board, the one that esteban couldn't even talk openly about according to canal+, the one that alpine refused to even try to fix...

but it begs the question...what gap ARE they talking about??? i swear they're actually trying to get people to think the points gap between the two at the end of the season started well before it actually did. like literally before brazil the points gap was 9-5 in favor of pierre and then from brazil to qatar the points difference was 26-23 in favor of pierre (and considering what happened in canada it should actually be a touch closer). that's literally...not a giant gap AT ALL? it's in fact a very normal gap??? this so-called gap they keep alluding to only enlarged in the last two races - qatar (where esteban was knocked out in the first corner) and abu dhabi (where esteban was forced to give up his seat). like what the actual fuck???

also if they want to give pierre exclusive credit for p6 in the constructor's, why don't they just take out esteban's points from the total tally and see where that leaves them in the constructor's battle...

like it's literally basic math that these fuckers seem to refuse to do time and time again when they accuse esteban of SaBoTaGiNg them in the p6 battle...how the fuck do you think you got into this battle for p6 in the first place???

also knowing that esteban was literally a part of lotus/renault/alpine for HALF HIS LIFE flavio's "he's really OUR pilot" comment about pierre really rubs me the wrong way...

as SO MANY people have realized lately, esteban is alpine. he has been their most successful driver for the past decade. so to put that comment in about a red bull academy driver was just yet another targeted barb at esteban...it's just such nasty behavior to say the least.

not to mention that coupled with flavio's fuckass and completely unnecessary comments about nationality...i can't help but agree with you about they're feeding into the racist narrative of esteban not really being french because of his algerian heritage...and that "OUR driver" is absolutely part of that imo

couldn't have said it any better! he gave alpine the best result every single year, three podiums and a win, he helped with a program for aspiring engineers, interacted with racing pride and alpine's collaboration, had a helmet with names of alpine employees, and of course the other thank you helmet for the last race, expressing grief that he cannot say goodbye to people at the factory, alpine workers actively seeking him out to take a pic together,,,,,

este was never the problem. the team is rotten, has been from the start and it just has gotten deeper over the years.

making gasly the face of alpine - along with commentators even at the beginning of 2023 claiming that gasly would lead a team este has been in for three years - just screams racism to me. they were matched in so many ways, yet everyone seeemed to pick gasly over este, which always seemed odd to me, but now it is just even more insidous since they damaged his reputation yet again.

i wanna burn the alpine hq to the ground and put briatore's head on a stake.

[ganondoodle]

1 year since i got scammed by nintedno leaving me forever yearning for a game we will never get and an extreme worry for the future

[fynnlink]

First of all: Thanks and Merry Christmas / Happy Holidays to you too.

My first response was to your framing it as not having any answers to the points you brought not that said answers maybe weren't satisfying or "enough".

And I in no way mean to argue against your "being pissed off" since it's a valid opinion especially if you like Aaravos a lot. So if I in turn offended you I apologise; I merely mean to discuss and engage with the media.

Now on to the important stuff:

I agree wholeheartedly with the point regarding "external" material (outside of the main series) but I think one of the issues TDP suffers from most is too much lore/story having to be squeezed into short, 9 episode seasons which is a shame as the world building is my favourite part of the series. Thus the need to use other ways to communicate parts of the story or lore. (The image of Ziard for example and the monologue/story attached to it are freely accessible but the point stands)

Having certain expectations even "high" ones is of course more than justified and feeling upset/unsatisfied when those expectations aren't met is too. There are quite a few plotlines which have developed in a specific way or not developed at all, that have disappointed me after waiting for answers since 2018. (Damn I've started this series at 14. That hiatus, seriously, never again please)

When exactly did Zubeia say that? Or are you referring to her lines in S4 E4? Because I wouldn't call the results of Aaravos' actions/involvement before his imprisonment Revolutions but rather Civil Wars / Unrest and I think her line "A Startouch Elf, one of the Great Ones, respected and loved by all until we discovered long-hidden treachery." is more of general statement than referring to her and the Archdragons. And the crime he was punished for was being responsible for Queen Aditi's disappearance (though no one knew what exactly happened to her until Aaravos told Khessa and then Janai found out) thus causing the tensions between the Elves and Dragons to boil over and also depriving the Archdragons from ending their succession conflict peacefully. (I'm hoping that if we get Act 3 we finally actually learn about the Orphan Queen.)

As to the severity of Aaravos' punishment it is quite literally the only punishment pissible as murdering him would've just had him return at a later point and imprisoning him in any other way would be nigh important due to his immense power both in terms of magical ability and persuasiveness manipulation.

I wholehearted agree that the involvement of both the Orphan Queen and the Jailer is less than adequately explained. Like you said it makes little sense to 1) believe a random human who at the time was probably young too and 2) to entrust the entire imprisonment process to another human one who was supposedly very mysterious. It would also be interesting to know whether or not the Jailer used Dark Magic or just other means like a primal stone or inanimate objects like gemstomes.

I don't think Aaravos had enough power (as in political influence not magic) to do anything against Sol Regem overtly. As even back then Anak Arao was THE dragon prince (Aaravos calls him that in S6 E9) so one of his parents was mostly likely the current regent during Leola's childhood 2000+ years ago. And back then Aaravos seemed to live a humble(r) life away from the heavens on earth with Leola and had no sway on the council. (Though it is interesting that The Merciful One apparently cared enough about Aaravos to comfort him above the Sea of the Castout). The entire story isn't resolved but Aaravos playing the long game was him drawing it out. He, at least in part, is responsible for humans learning dark magic and thus for Ziard "blinding" Sol Regem, Aaravos was also probably involved in whatever caused Sol Regem to get angry enough to indirectly kill Aithne Solaire as Aaravos even knew about it. This to me at least is reminiscent of Aaravos' incredible quote about surviving such a terrible wound (losing a loved one) and thus suffering forever. Aaravos didn't directly attack or kill Sol Regem to prolong the Archdragon's suffering and since he knew how to easily manipulate and use Sol Regem to further his own plans. Never throw away something that could one day prove useful. It took barely any work to get Karim to do exactly what Aaravos wanted and then to use Pharos to direct Sol Regem against Katolis, Viren and Aaravos' imprisonment. (A bonus benefit which in my opinion Aaravos also planned for is that this further turned Claudia on this "dark path" when she was just beginning to question/regret it)

Personally I don't think Aaravos' line was supposed to single out Zubeia from the other Archdragons as the only/main one to BETRAY Aaravos. Both the Archdragons and Aaravos call what happened back then a betrayal (Rex Igneous' line about "Not long enough, Betrayer") the Archdragons for Aaravos' manipulations and Aaravos for the imprisonment. It's simply that she's the only one who was involved when he says it and he's addressing her and not the others in the beginning of his conversations via posessed Callum. And Zubeia has proven she's ready and willing to fight when necessary (the standoff with Rex Igneous, her fighting against the corrupted Banthers in the great bookery and her attacking Aaravos in the finale)

When does he differentiate between Zubeia and the other Archdragons, he has the lines about Zubeia being "ravishing" but back when he tells Viren about Avizandum imprisoning him him only mentioning Avizandum is, in my opinion, just the series trying to keep it simple and even in a watsonian sense Viren proved just moments prior that the names of the Archdragons aren't known to him. And he does seem to enjoy her suffering by making her face Avizandum in the finale.

Regarding the Staff of Ziard that's why I amended that Aaravos had taken the Staff not necessarily that he had stolen it.

I think the Starscraper might function as the Star Nexus and thus draws in a semi-religious following and it's made up of other Elves since the Startouch Elves "don't intervene" which is probably what inspired that part of the Celestial Elves' culture. As to why it's Skywing Elves, earlier it was said that only winged Skywing Elves live there before they changed it. Again in lore this change probably happened because some elves at the Starscraper were born without wings. But yes it is something they could expand upon hopefully if Astrid sticks around the Dragang.

There was at least one more Startouch Elf around during the division of Xadia and expulsion of the humans to the east. (Visible in the opening of S1 E1 next to what is either Queen Aditi or her daughter. And they look distinctively different from Aaravos)

100% agree. Elarion has fascinated me since the poem was first translated and has only grown more and more interesting since. It's probably too big/important and needs to be the main focus. I think Claudia's final scene might be near Elarion since it's the same place as the S4-S7 intro sequence and the mountain range and sky full of stars and nebulae looks like the one from the scene of Aaravos crying over (creating it) the Sea of the Castout.

I don't view it as the finale of the series just of the act and season. Both the way it ended and the fandom's reaction is exactly the same as when Miraculous' fifth season ended. If you view it as a Series Finale not a Season Finale then yes it leaves certain storylines and plotpoints unresolved but whether they continue the story via more seasons or novels, etc the story isn't over.

Which is not to say you're not allowed to disagree. Art and Stories and their interpretation are up to any who behold them. It's just a matter of viewing it as an end for now rather then a complete end. And since Act 3 has been planned for a while I don't judge the story without also factoring in the limitations placed upon it by Netflix at first only paying for the first three and then the next four seasons. Of course a story made for ten seasons limited to seven can't resolve all plotlines. It was always meant to have an open end to entice viewers to want the final instalment.

Ultimately I hope/want Act 3 to focus on explaining the history more in depth especially from 2000 years ago at the founding of Elarion to 300 years ago with Avizandum's reign, a more in depth look at the Startouch Elves and the Star Arcanum and 'everything' related to it (for example Stella having the Star Arcanum??) and most importantly, to me, the origin of Dark Magic and further explaining it's specifics.

All three could be tied to Elarion as the main geological focus (along with Evrkynd probably, which could even draw parallels with the first human city built in opposition/definace to "Xadia" and the latest built in cooperation and peace. Once again I'm also glad Sol Regem is just bones now because that prick deserved what he got.) as all paths converge either in Elarion or at the Sea of the Castout.

- - - - -

Unrelated Sidenote but I think Aaravos will ultimately be "defeated" by, like most other parents in the series, sacrificing himself to restore/resurrect Leola. 1) He wanted to sacrifice his life for her in the beginning but wasn't allowed/able to do so and 2) it would even be akin to a final victory for him in undoing the Cosmic Orders' plans. And it would once again call back to the series' message of Love triumphing over Hate and Vengeance and the theme of Parents giving their future for their children. And this isn't as unlikely anymore since the series has begun to make certain deaths less permanent i. e. Harrow = Pip

Narrative of Love not Strength as Aaravos can't be defeated by force alone but by appealing to his love for his daughter(s).

Depending on when this happens and whether or not the Cosmic Order feels threatened or disrespected by it it could even put the Dragang (who would probably not turn against Leola) and the C.O. at odds and lead to a resolution in which there's justice for the C.O.'s wrongful deed(s) and not Revenge the way Aaravos dies it right now.

Also it would be similar to Elves and Humans working together to return Zym and bring peace and would be poetic to now also "repay" Leola's kindness and her friendship to both peoples in the past.

wait a fucking minute...

We still don't know why and how Aaravos was imprisoned.

And what exactly his beef with Sol Reg and the other archdragons was about.

And what his relationship was with the Orphan Queen.

Oh yeah! And also his relationship with Ziard... and city of Elarion...

DID THEY JUST KILL HIM WITH ABSOLUTELY NO EXPLANATION?

I'M SO PISSED OFF

[spaciebabie]

at first getting diagnosed with cptsd was like, "yay my trauma has been validated (it always was valid)!" and i really thought that was going to be it, but then i started to do research as i do whenever i realize i have something and learned that!! the way i experience socialization is!! quite horrid actually!!

[a-s-levynn]

So i had a dream last night which wasn't a nightmare and i even remember most of it! which is super exciting. I barely ever remember dreams that are just simply that so this is a fairly rare occasion for me.

It was weird tho

But it was.. i don't even know what it was so let me ramble about it in the tags a bit

[neredoesnotfail]

❛ do not forget what i am.  ❜ // @lcftyambiticns

"And what is that?" the drow questions with a mocking not-quite-smile, that telltale [ patronizing ] sing-song to his voice.

His head canted slightly to one side, he continues, pondering the potential answers aloud.

"A ne'er-do-well? A cad? A wizard of... questionable renown? A mere mortal hoping to cast off his mortality? What, precisely, is it that you wish us to remember that you are?"

[crunchymayo]

i have a question for other people out there who may be like me and have a taste in music that is confusing, weirdly specific, random, inconsistent, and really hard to explain to other people; HOW do you go about finding new music? do you have a method that's successful most of the time? or do you, like me, just keep desperately listening to playlist after playlist and album after album and hoping to get lucky by finding a song or two?

when people try to give me recs they ask me what genres i like and i just say "nothings off limits" but it's not in a "i'll listen to anything" kinda way, it's that there's just something about certain songs that makes my brain go "YES" and every genre has the potential to have some songs that scratch that itch. pretty sure genre actually has little to no bearing on what i like.

there's a few specific genres i end up listening to quite a bit more than other genres but i don't think that's cause there's actually anything "special" about them for me, i think it's just kinda incidental and a result of how spotify will be like "oh you liked a few songs from this one specific genre?? so it's your favorite genre???? you want to hear nothing but songs from this genre for the rest of time????" and so the vast majority of my recs on spotify are just from these few genres and i've just fallen into a loop of them. i don't even end up liking the vast majority of songs that get recommended to me anyway, and whenever i go to ANY genre-specific playlist i only end up liking a couple, if even that many. so yeah it doesn’t seem like genre matters at all.

i think it's more about the rhythm/melody/vibe of a song (and maybe it could have something to do with the bpm of a song but idk) but there still doesn't appear to be much consistency for me. like spotify has the playlists that are like "chill mix"/"energetic mix"/"moody mix"/etc. and it's the same as when i listen to a genre mix. i CAN find songs i like in any mix but i'll still maybe only like 1 song for every 25 i listen to. and it's also the same with artists and albums in general.

like basically i think the problem boils down to how there's no way to label my taste. like there's no key words or phrases for me to use to tell people or search engines what i'm looking for.

my best bet is just showing people the songs i like, and seeing if they can hear some kind of pattern, and can give me recs based on that. this is what i do with my sister, cause she's also kinda the same, having an inconsistent and indefinable taste in music, and the things we like overlap a little so i tend to get good recs from her, but that's obviously also dependent on her being able to find new songs, which doesn't happen a lot.

i don't usually have the ability to just ask someone who kinda understands my taste to give me recs, and when i do there's no guarantee they'll even have any, and i wanna find a way to be able to search for new music on my own.

[pynkhues]

Hey, just wanted to know your perspective on Shiv's decision. There's a huge discussion going on whether the decision was emotionally driven just to spite Kendall? Was it calculated in any sense considering her children's future or getting any power through Tom? Was she seeking Tom (the powerful man now)'s approval?

What do you think? I personally think it was multi faceted and complex and included all the things a little bit and lead her to the decision.

Would she have taken the same decision if she had no idea that it is infact Tom that Mattson's eyeing?

Hey! Oh man, it’s such a great moment and it’s one I’ve been thinking about a lot. I agree with you in the sense that it was such a multi-faceted and complex choice, and one that had many trigger points both in the sense of Shiv’s reality, her sense of power and control, and the real and mangled emotional root of her place in her own family.

Do I think it was strategic? A little, but I think she was passed the point of being able to strategise in part because she was out of time, but also in part because Shiv’s impatience means she’s just not very good at it.

I think one of Shiv’s greatest strengths is also one of her biggest flaws in that she tends not to see the wood for the trees. She’s a big picture thinker, she sees the end result she wants but not the daily machinations to get her there, which we see over and over again. She’s impatient, lives life on the backfoot so is always trying to hurry, overtake, skip steps, take shortcuts to get ahead, and when she’s asked to operate in a system where she’s forced to stop and acknowledge the reality of the moment, I think she can for once see everything for exactly what it is.

Funnily enough, I feel like the telling moment in terms of Shiv in that finale isn’t actually with Kendall or Tom at all, it’s the moment Sandi says yes in the boardroom. It’s the tiniest of beats, which Sarah plays beautifully, and it carries over from Stewy telling Shiv only moments before (after Kendall offers him Chair in their father’s office) that he thinks Shiv can still sway Sandi. We don’t see the scene, and I kind of wish we had, but the outcome is felt all the same. Shiv can’t do it, she doesn’t convince Sandi, the only woman she’s on any sort of equal footing with to vote with them, which means she has no accomplice at that table, no allies, no position, no weight, only brothers who have shown just how quickly they’ll shut her out.

I think its that failure with Sandi that ultimately untethers Shiv, because with that loss comes the loss of any way forwards for Shiv at the company. She’s no longer an heiress of her father’s making or even one of Matsson’s, she’s just a little sister, staring at her big brother, at the best friend he offers Chair to as a joke in his office when she could only play ‘behind the scenes’ so it didn’t look ‘wonky’, the person she’s spent her entire life trying to catch up to and beat, and I think she meant it, what she said to Kendall after.

She can’t stomach it.

If she can’t have it, he sure as hell can’t, and at least with Tom she has some sort of in, she has something. Not an accomplice at the table, but a trap door she could sometimes scratch her way beneath, someone who might not want a relationship with her, might not be loyal, but someone who’s bound to her, if nothing else, and someone who has no use for her brothers anymore.

Shiv would rather break the toy than let Kendall have it, even if she cut her own hands in the process, and honestly, it’s one of the reasons she’s a character of all time to me. She’s a survivor in a way none of her brothers are, but she’s also petty and selfish in the way all three of them absolutely are, and to see her really do what none of them could and cut their strings in the 11th hour was so thrilling to me. She’s kept her in, but she also knows she’s out, but at least Kendall and Roman are too. At least the three of them are locked out of the house together, even if, for a moment, they’re apart.

[the-physicality]

i do think, aside from mercury bias, if bg had been in all season she would have been all wnba, first or at least second. i think people undervalue her because of the rebounding but she is 1000% the worst officiated player in the league, on both sides of the court. so the fact that she's been able to have the performance that she had is incredible, and that she didn't get the acknowledgment really just underscores how much people take what she does for granted.

[earako]

This may be a late revelation but

Stan is a con man

And whats a greater con then letting everyone assume you're the dumb twin?

What better way to get peoples guard down then to act too dumb to be a threat?

But on the other hand

What about when the conman falls for his own con?

[icewindandboringhorror]

a boye whom'st loves to attack paper balls