#but those are only like. vague theories

[nellasbookplanet]

I just finished my most recent Mass Effect playthrough (and I'm a big girl and absolutely didn't cry) and am once again thinking about the endings. I've spoken before about how the endings work weirdly against the core themes of the trilogy (tl;dr: Saren and the Illusive man argue for synthesis and control, and are both proven to be wrong and indoctrinated, yet they are presented as valid and equal endings; cooperation with the geth and EDI prove that peace between synthetics and organics is possible, yet destruction of all synthetic life is, again, a valid and equal ending), but as with the Arrival DLC I once again feel that my frustrations lie largely with the fact that it could so easily have been fixed, had only the narrative been ever so slightly nudged.

The endings are not only about making a choice, but making a sacrifice. You sacrifice your morals, your ethics, your allies' lives or agency, your own life and humanity, all for the sake of stopping extinction. And this isn't bad! It goes well in hand with the themes of choice and sacrifice throughout! But not only does it fail to take these previous choices into account (frankly, renegade and paragon endings should've looked wildly different even if you pick the same option), it also fails to make the choices you have feel feasible. (and then the extended endings seemingly caved to pressure and painted them all as wholly happy endings, while completely burying the inherent tragedy every choice brought with it, leaving you with a weirdly disjointed final product)

We know coexistence with synthetics is possible despite it being argued against by many characters because there is also a running theme of disproving it: in ME1 Tali's dialogue shows that the history of the geth is more complicated than them simply wanting to wipe out organics; in ME2 Legion and EDI show that cooperation is possible; in ME3 actual peace can be achieved. Yet none of this same care is shown to synthesis and control. Saren is disproven, the Illusive Man is disproven. There are little hints - such as EDI and the geth having reaper code and Shepard having A LOT of implants and interfacing with geth - that reaper upgrades or a mix of synthetic and organic could work, but it isn't enough of a running theme for it to rival the absolute dismantling of the arguments prior. Adding them as options feels, well, like the reapers' last attempt at derailing Shepard from destroying them (as I've said before, there's no wonder the indoctrination theory caught on). But they aren't. The endings are legit, no matter how out of left field they feel.

So, my recipe for fixing the endings: either actually do the indoctrination theory (they would have to change very little), or plant the seeds for control and synthesis being feasible without indoctrination throughout the game for narrative satisfaction, while also incorporating renegade/paragon in the epilogue for individual player satisfaction.

[neunhofferart]

Not sure if there's anything official- based only on a vaguely similar shape and location and seemingly supported by the map pictures released by Dreamworks TV recently, would Yaz's island be Frank Island in Yellowstone National Park? Only for JWE2 building reference purposes 😁

It's possible it was used for some visual inspiration, but I think the EXACT location in Wyoming was probably meant to be a little vague, as a fictional location.

[storywestistrash]

i am actually so tired of the way westerners treat eastern europeans

[satellite-blossom]

The average "schizoposting" enthusiast wouldn't survive a day in my brain.

[rin-may-1103]

Just a Bite.

Master Post | Next

Danny stared out at the busy street from behind his dumpster.

or well, not his dumpster, but it might as well be his considering how many nights he's spent sitting behind it like some rabid raccoon.

Two months ago, he would have been sleeping in his own bed. His glow-in-the-dark stars vaguely lighting up his room in soft luminescent colors. The sound of Jazz snoring in her sleep just a room over, his parents still milling around in the basement.

he would have just finished fighting the box ghost and collapsed onto his bed, the sound of his home lulling him to sleep.

Oh, how things can change in a blink of an eye.

No, instead of sleeping on his bed with his cartoon ghost sheets and NASA poster covered room, he's out here in some random dirty city, sleeping behind dumpsters.

dirty, grimy, rusty dumpsters.

"did you hear?" some lady dressed in a light blue summer dress asked, turning to look at her friend as they started to walk past. "Mr. Wayne donated another lump sum to that charity." she huffed, shaking her head like she had just said the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard.

her friend stopped in the middle of the alley opening, her graying hair splaying in an ark as she twisted to face the other women. "my word! again? what the hell is that man thinking?"

the woman huffed, then smirked in amusement. "it's like he's shouting for the world to hear how desperate he is for attention. he thinks if he donates enough money to those scoudrails they'll love him or something. With how he's acting lately, it's like he wants all the street rats to barge into his home asking for money, food, and clothes."

her friend clicked her tongue in disgust, "I'd believe it. he has so many kids now, it's like he's running an orphanage. someone, anyone really, with black hair and some tragic story could walk right in and not even be noticed. they'd blend right in with the others."

"I heard it's genetic, his father was the same way before he met Martha. Bruce's blood son, Damian I believe, acts just like his father. the boy's been spotted taking stray cats and dogs inside. It wouldn't surprise me if the paper posted about him convincing his father for another sibling at some point."

the women then turned and started to walk away, their conversation slowly bleeding into the surrounding city ruckus.

Danny leaned back, resting his head against the crumbling brick behind him.

walk right in and not be noticed? wouldn't that be grand. He had heard of Mr. wayne and his gaggle of black-haired children. What were their names again? he could have sworn Sam told him before, in one of her rants about rich society.

Richard Grayson was the first, Danny remembered because Tucker had been making none stop dick jokes for a few hours. Danny didn't understand why the man would willingly go by Dick, but then again, who was he to question someone's name when he fights ghosts like Skulker and Technis on a daily basis?

Next was... Jason? Sam had mentioned there was a whole conspiracy theory of how his death was a cover-up. how all the unsolved crime community swore it was Bruce who killed the kid, that or the kid had some terminal illness that Bruce didn't want the media to know about.

thennnnnn-

Danny glanced around, trying to dig through his memories of Sam's rant. Dick: the orphaned circus act taken in the night his parents died. he's romanie? maybe, Danny wasn't too sure on that one. Jason: taken off the streets, one of his parents was out of the picture and the other one died of a drug overdose.

and then there was..... Tim! Right, Tim, the one who was Mr. Wayne's neighbor before his mother died and his dad went into a coma, then died later on. right, right. he was the known tech genius, the one who took over the company while Mr. Wayne stepped back for a while.

there were others? like, four others? Damian, the lady said he was the blood son sooo, that would imply he was the only bio kid.

who else was there? hmmmm.

well, either way, Danny's tired brain agreed with the women. someone, anyone, who looked vaguely like the other kids could walk right into the house and no one would notice.

it was a bad idea. a terrible one really. but. Danny was hungry.

he's been sleeping behind dumpsters for a few weeks now, he hadn't had anything good to eat in forever, and he was tired. (not as exhausted as he was back home, but still tired. who would have guessed he'd sleep more while homeless?)

he wasn't going to steal from people, his core wouldn't allow him to. and well, he's pretty sure Dan would have stolen already, so there was no way Danny was going to. not unless his life was at risk, and well? it wasn't right now, so no stealing.

but this? walking right into a house and blatantly taking food? right in front of them?

it wouldn't be stealing if he just flat-out didn't try to hide it. they'd be able to stop him and send him away. heck, he doubted he'd even make it past the front gate before they turned him away.

...

was he really going to do this?

...

yes, yes he was.

standing up, Danny started making his way out of the alleyway and over to the tall building with Wayne's name on it. It was a good place to start, maybe he could even find one of the kids and walk with them. or, even better, he could find Mr. Wayne and walk with him. he liked that better than following some kid around.

suddenly, a car honked right next to him, the window rolling down to reveal a tired and disheveled man behind the wheel. glancing up, Danny made eye contact with the taxi driver.

the man yawned and gestured for him to get in, already speaking before Danny could decline. "Mr. Wayne! Your father," yawn, "Father already paid for me to take you home. just hop in."

Danny blinked then glanced around, looking to see if the Wayne the man was talking about was around. nope. turning back, Danny spotted a green sticky note on the back seat.

well, alright then. guess he was getting into the taxi and doing this after all. Clockwork obviously approved if he messed with the timing of things.

Next

[erythristicbones]

i do think it's really funny that JDK as a project started out with Jonas as the main focus and everything else secondary, but then I put my repurposed old edgy OC i adored when I was 12 in it.......and now I'm just like "what if she gets to be super important too? What if she's just as integral to the story?" bc i have no self control

[on-the-clear-blue]

Dead Man's Diner pt 2

Danny had to admit, Lunch Lady was an excellent teacher.

Sure they were blitzing though a cook book thst was more tape and hope the paper, but Danny was for once actually understanding and enjoying being taught.

Cracking an egg into a bowl, Danny held it close while whisking quickly, not fully incorporating the flour in his pancake batter before dumping a good sized dollop on the flat top, smiling from the brief sizzle that he heard.

There was a sudden cacophony sounds from the front of house (which was the dining area? He never knew that before) putting the flat top on low, Danny looked over to where Lunch Lady was floating only to find nothing.

Blinking a bit, Danny wiped his hands off OK his apron as he poked his head out, frowning at the diner car, "What was that..." his words were cut off by one of the blinds slats bending as if pried open, and as he squinted, Danny saw two figures watching from a distance ontop another rail car.

Vigilantes

Danny felt his heart flutter with excitement, while not as cool as maybe Martian Manhunter or StarFire (since y'know...fucking aliens, Space) the Gotham caped community were interesting, if only since Batman and his Flock were Sam's low key obsession, she had even gone out as Robin for multiple Halloweens, and don't even get him started on the fan theories about them all.

Smirking he tapped the bar, allowing thr blinds to snap closed, "Sam is so going to flip that I saw the Birds before her." Letting out a little giggled, Danny quickly swore as he smelt a bit of burning and rushed to flip his pancakes.

---

Tim was, in Dicks opinion, the most concerning member of the family, sure most days he gives of "miserable wet cat" energy but even then Dick had seen his little brother easily take down guys that even Bruce had trouble with.

That wasnt even touching on his um...mental quirks

The less he speaks of the time period between Bruce's and Kons deaths till their eventual return, the better.

Putting down the binoculars, Dick stole a glance over at Red Robin, who was frowning deeply at his wrist computer, scooting a little closer Dick leaned over to see what was happening, "Whatcha do~oing?"

So entranced by what he was reading Tim jumped a little, an elbow flying out to where Dicks face had been a second ago as he turned and glared.

"Don't...! Do that Wing! Ugh..." shaking his head as he let out a huff Tim took his eyes off the small monitor and looked up at the diner car, pointing at it as he spoke scornfuly.

"That place does not exist."

"Like, legally? I am sure Batburger doesn't either-"

"No." Tim said, cutting the older vigilante off, "It doesn't exist physically."

"Timmy..." Dick said as he ran through the protocols for when RedRobin got a little too many insane things in his head.

"Get that look off your face Wing, it really doesn't exist, like..." letting out a sigh, the teen tried to put his words right "Don't look straight at it but a bit to the side so it's to the side of your eye." Pointing to a middle distance a bit away from the diner cart, Dick sent a small frown at his brother but did as he was asked.

"Holy leaping lizards..." Tim, somehow, was right, since when Dick just looked about a few feet away from the diner, it started to waver turning...transparent? And a little blue? But when he looked at it closer it was just a normal, abet run down looking diner.

"Exactly, no need to bench me till Agent A stuffs me full of anti-psychotics!"

"That was one time Tim, and you were having a mental break down."

"I am not lying when I say we killed Santa Claus Dick!"

"Sure Tim...sure"

---

Danny drummed his fingers on the breakfast bar, nursing a cup of coffee as he waited for something to happen.

He knew thst he was being watched, he had a vague idea who was doing the watching, but was starting to get a bit bored waiting for them to get closer.

Pausing mid sip, a grin spread across Danny's lips, "Hey cart? Can you do something that might draw those guys over here? Let's get some customers!"

Some how, Danny's grin only grew at the rumble of the cart, and he xould hav sworn he heard a sound that was a mix between a train horn and a chuckle.

---

Tim shot his brother a stinging glare, swatting at his arm as he blushed, he did every much indeed accidentally killed Santa Claus and took an impromptu trip to Apokolips to give DarkSeid coal.

His next rebuttal to Nightwing was cut off as the diner cart shuddered as if it was in an earthquake before it stilled, and the banner that was across it suddenly gained a new line.

[JUST NOW! VIGILANTES AND HEROS GET ONE FREE SIDE OF FRIES! COME ON IN BEFORE THE OFFER ENDS!]

Tim was silent for a moment, watching the cart to see if there was any more changes before turning to Dick, who had lost the joyful energy that he always seemed to have.

"RR, plans changed, we are going to investigate inside."

Tim gave a sharp nod, his bo staff elongating as he grappled down to the train tracks below, his boots crunching gravel underfoot as he slipped from shadow to shadow, getting closer to Big C's diner.

---

Danny was in the back, flipping through his cook book as he heard a bell ring, jolting up, Danny could see through the service window and see who came in.

He had never met a real hero before, not like the two that had just came in, feeling nervous, Danny fumbled with a small notebook as he came out from the kitchen, grinning at the two Birds.

"Heya! Thanks for coming to Big C's! Names Danny and I am kinda the only one in today, what can I get you both?"

His eyes flickered between the two vigilantes, noticing new things each time he looked at them, like how Red Robin's cape had buttons instead of being sown on, or how Nightwings suit wasn't slick but actually textured.

---

Dick looked at everything he could as he stood in the diners door, it looked like a typical 50s styled mom and pop kinda place, an old radio buzzed with songs of a bygone era while the seats were cracked pink leather vinyl.

He could hear someone moving in the back, resting a hand on his eskrima sticks, Dick stalked further in, it felt real enough...

He could feel Red Robin knock into his back as the person from the back came into view, it was a teen, and holy hell did he look like Bruce Wayne adoption bait, raven hair, blue eyes and a cheesy looking grin.

He couldn't be older than Damian, who had turned 16 a few months ago, the teen was just so...tiny.

Danny, that's the name given to them, and Dick can see it, he looked like a Danny.

Pausing to look to Tim, Dick smiled back at the teen, "Well...can we see a menu?"

[reidrum]

the prophecy part 1:

cards on the table, mine played out like fools in a fable | s.r.

A/N: trying something new…..this one’s been on my mind for too long and the angst hurt too good. sorry in advance ! perhaps a part 2 who’s to say ..,,,..,. ?

cw: bau!fem!reader, spoilers for prison arc, implied talks of SA (referring to when lindsey doses spencer in mexico), maeve donovan, just angst bro this doesn’t end well

summary: you and jj accompany spencer to cat’s correctional facility to play her games, except there’s more than one loser

wc: 2.1k

part 2

——————————————————————————

Cat Adams’ taunts and demands have led Spencer, JJ, and you to visit her in her correctional facility to play whatever game she has for him. Emily had you and JJ go with him given his erratic state from just being released, in hopes that you both could regulate and monitor the whole meeting.

You and JJ watch Spencer walk in stoically, sitting down across from Cat as she smiles at him. He angrily demands for his mother’s location, but she gets upset and tells him that he doesn’t get to treat her like a criminal. She only agrees to tell him the location if he plays her game, and figures out the secret she knows about Spencer.

Spencer’s brain works overtime to figure out what he’s missing, what Cat could possibly be holding against him that would make him deny the truth of it. He runs through all the scenarios; Spencer being able to now understand how it feels to have a parent used as a pawn, Cat wanting him to admit his love for her. But she shakes her head and reveals that a clue was left in a scrapbook in Spencer’s apartment.

You remember you took a picture of it when you went with Spencer to scope it out, and pulled it out to show JJ.

“Is that an X and a Y?” She ponders, “What could that mean?”

“I think it’s…” You stop halfway, realizing what it means. Your face drops and you look back in the room to watch Spencer come to the same conclusion.

“We’re pregnant!” Cat sings.

You and JJ look at each other in shock, the blonde’s voice slowly drowning out as you sink further into the Cat shaped hole. You vaguely hear her mention going to the guard to find her medical records, but all you can think about is how she could be bearing Spencer’s child.

Spencer and you had been together for a little over two years now. While still in the relative early stages, a lot about your relationship had been figured out and solidified. It was the most secure you’d ever felt with anyone, and despite the road bumps with Mexico you felt that you both came through it as well as any couple would in that situation.

You loved Spencer, and Spencer loved you. Right now was just another one of those road bumps, just like Mexico. That’s what you needed to tell yourself.

JJ bursts through the door with the medical documents, “I got them.” breaking you out of your spiral. You both anxiously look at the paper to find a little (+) sign ticked next to the pregnant box.

Cat Adams really was pregnant. You think you could be sick, you feel JJ’s hand grip your arm in an attempt to tether you back down, but it’s a futile effort. Your brain has already taken the information and ran a billion different directions with it, each coming up with a more crazy conclusion.

You stare blankly into the interrogation room as Spencer vehemently denies the child being his, denying any such way that it could even be his. The disbelief is ruling his words as he shuts down any theory that gives it truth, until Cat reminds him of the heavy dose he was given in Mexico. It hit him then, if he could barely remember the third person in that room, he had no bearing on whatever else transpired.

Spencer tries not to let the anxiety and shock show on his face as he sits down to face Cat in the eyes, “How did you do it?”

“I gave Lindsey very specific instructions to get you in the mood.”

“She pretend to be you?”

“Why, would that have worked?”

“No.” he says sternly.

She pauses, ego clearly bruised, “Yeah, I know. I know. Believe me, I know exactly where I stand on the Spencer Reid "Hot or Not" list. I told her to pretend to be Maeve. Maeve Donovan, who had her brains blown out right in front of you before you two could even kiss.”

Spencer’s face falls. No, he thinks, no no no. He looks back at the one way window behind him, knowing very well he can’t see you but you’re watching everything unfold disastrously.

Your heart drops so fast it could have very well been seismic. To your horror, Cat continues.

“I thought about telling her to pretend to be your little BAU girlfriend,” she chuckles, “But then I realized, you only had one love of your life. and you won’t let anyone else measure up.” She leans in closer, “By the way, I know that you still think about Maeve when you’re, you know, with your little crime fighter over there. But don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” She gives an over exaggerated wink to the window.

Spencer feels like he’s seeing white, anger coursing through his body as the reality of his situation comes to a head. He’s definitely not thinking when he pushes the table aside harshly, grabbing Cat by the collar and pushing her against the wall. He’s only able to stop when JJ is beside him suddenly attempting to pull him back, reminding him that she’s pregnant.

His fists are clenched and without a second thought he storms out of the room, his tunnel vision taking him right past you and JJ.

JJ doesn’t know what to do, she looks back into the room to see Cat smirking to herself, and god if she didn’t have morals she’d finish what Spencer started. She thinks it’s wise to go after Spencer and check on him, knowing that Cat’s timer is still ticking and the faster he gets back in there the sooner they can find his mother.

But then she looks at you and suddenly her feet are rooted next to yours.

She lays her hand on your shoulder and gently speaks, “Hey, I’m right here okay?”

You nod mindlessly, hoping you can keep the ocean of tears at bay with whatever resolve you can muster. She squeezes her hand at your acknowledgment and doesn’t move.

How is she supposed to even comfort you? How are you supposed to process this?

You knew how important Maeve Donovan was to Spencer. The whole thing had happened a year before you joined the team, only having heard the story through your teammates. It was tragic, there was no other way to put it, and your heart clenched for Spencer for having to go through that by himself. When you both first started dating, he disclosed the more intimate details to you, wanting nothing to be left unspoken about his past to affect his future with you.

What a cruel twist of fate.

“I—I think,” you stutter, “I have to go, JJ, I can’t be here right now.”

“But—“ She starts.

You cut her off, “No, JJ you have to go talk to Spencer and get him back in there. The longer his mom is with Lindsey…” you trail off.

She nods, understanding that you’re thinking about the priorities right now, “Okay, okay I’ll go find him. Where are you going to go?”

You could go home, the one you share with Spencer. Or you could go back to the office, the one you also share with Spencer.

Every realization adds another needle to your stack, and you’re about to crumble under the weight. “I—I don’t know.” You whimper.

JJ closes her eyes to think quickly and grips your shoulders, “Go back to the BAU okay? I’m going to call Emily and tell her to expect you back, you go straight there, do you understand me?” she emphasizes. JJ is smart enough to know that you cannot be alone right now, and that Spencer wouldn’t be able to scrounge up whatever focus he could into getting answers from Cat if he knew you had left by yourself to god knows where.

All you could do was nod, and hope and pray that your feet would carry you to the car and back to the bureau. JJ was nervous having you drive back, but she really didn’t have a choice. All she could do was notify Emily, as well as Penelope for tracking purposes, that you were headed back, and to not ask you too many questions.

After you left, JJ stood in the waiting room for a brief moment before going to find where Spencer went. She finds him sitting on the floor of an unused interrogation room with his head tucked into his knees.

She speaks quietly to not startle him, “Hey.”

He looks up at the voice, JJ noticing his eyes flit around and behind her as if looking for something, or someone. His eyes sulk back when he’s unable to find it.

Spencer opens his mouth to speak, “Is she—“

“She’s going back to the BAU, Emily knows she’s on the way,” she cuts him off already anticipating his question, “Listen, whatever you’re feeling about what just happened right now has to be paused. You need to focus and finish this stupid game with Cat so we can find your mother and be done with her.” She grits out.

He sighs shakily, he doesn’t even want to think about what must be going through your head. As much as it pained him to experience her vitriol first hand, you were on the other side of that window listening to every word Cat spewed out. And somehow, knowing you watched all of that hurt worse than Mexico, worse than Tobias Hankel, and even worse than Maeve Donovan.

Cat was playing a deeply fucked psychological game with him, and she had now called you in as a pawn. You, his darling girl. The one who made him see the light of the sun after it was constantly being put out, the one who loved him through his mother’s illness and wrongful imprisonment, the one who is, with all and every bit of certainty, the love of his life.

If the velvet black box in his sock drawer was any testament to the power that love held, he hoped it would take mercy on him in this moment.

He stands up and paces the room for a moment before kicking the chair to the other side of the room. JJ startles, her eyes widening but attempting to remain neutral faced as Spencer sorts out his emotions.

“Spence, we need to focus,” she reminds him, “Time is running out.”

“I know,” he mumbles and paces the room hoping to have a stroke of insight, “I have an idea.”

———

You must be no better than a zombie in the final apocalypse when you walk into the bullpen, stumbling around with glassy eyes, no regard for what’s in your way. The apathetic coping mechanism you’ve deployed almost makes you seem as mindless as those monsters, if it weren’t for Penelope to show up and steady you.

“I gotcha, honey,” She makes eye contact with Emily, acknowledging that she’s got you, before turning back to you again, “Come here, let’s sit down.” Penelope sits you down in the nearest chair and drags another one for her to sit right next to you.

You don’t speak for an hour after sitting. Penelope doesn’t ask, only checking in every ten minutes to see if you want a snack or some water, to which you shake your head no every time. She’s too busy typing away on her laptop getting information that could help the team find Spencer’s mother, the last thing you want to be is a bump in the road for them.

Another hour passes before the team exits the conference room, alerting you and Penelope that they think they’ve found the cabin where Diana and Lindsey are. Emily gathers everything they need before approaching you in the bullpen.

“Do I have to be here when you guys come back?” You ask quietly.

Emily sighs, understanding the gravity of your circumstance, “No, you don’t. Will you let Garcia drop you home though? Give us all a peace of mind.” She chuckles humorlessly, unknowingly squeezing the other shoulder JJ didn’t.

You know the ‘all’ she’s referring to really just means one person. It doesn’t make you feel any better, but you don’t think it’s meant to. She brings you in for a tight hug, “I’ll check on you after, okay?”

You nod and release from her embrace. Penelope gathers her things next to you and you both walk to the elevator.

“Honey,” It pained Garcia to see you like this, and she didn’t know how she could help, “What can I do?”

You sniffle and shrug, there isn’t much she can do. There isn’t even much that you could do. Not that anything you could do would be enough, it was never enough. Not for you, not for the team, and not for Spencer.

With a bitter chuckle you answer Penelope’s question,

“Bring back Maeve.”

[hotchner-edu]

Eyes Don't Lie | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: The one where you think you’re being slick about your crush on Aaron (spoiler: you’re not.)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!sunshine!reader

Warnings: fluff, Aaron's arms, drinking

You remember it all too clearly, the day you got the highly coveted profiler position in the BAU. Not because you actually managed to get the job, that was secondary, but because the man who interviewed you was possibly the most gorgeous human you'd ever laid eyes on.

And now that very same man was your unit chief. Unbending in his resolve and ever self-assured, you stood absolutely no chance. You still had trouble recalling how you even answered the interview questions back then, only remembering how your mind spun the longer you stared at him.

When you joined the team, the overflowing abundance of joy and sunshine tying them together (thanks to one Penelope Garcia) seemed to fly into overdrive.

The team never let you forget just how much they adored your smiley nature, grateful for your constant comforting presence. Although they all absolutely loved Penelope, she was usually stationed back in her lair when the team had to fly to different places, and the effects of heavy cases weighed on them during those days.

That seemed to change when you were roped into the team, always keeping someone company and trying to alleviate their stress.

Never with Aaron though.

You seemed to malfunction every time he was alone with you, and that often led you to scurry off, your school girl crush festering deeper in your heart.

"Good morning, sunshine." Derek's voice meets your ears as he enters the precinct, dropping a kiss to the top of your head as he sits beside you.

"Good morning!" You chirp with a grin, sorting out the papers in front of you— all ransom notes that had been left by the unsub for his victims' parents. All starting with demands for hundreds of thousands of dollars, and all ending with half-buried bodies.

Derek glances at the papers for a moment before directing his attention to Spencer who was staring at the whiteboard in front of him. "Any luck with the geographical profile, Reid?"

"Working on it..." Spencer mumbles under his breath, the precursor to his flow state. Yeah, he would figure it out in no time.

Your attention is averted to the entrance of the meeting room when Emily strolls in with both her coffee and yours in her hands. "Early start today... again." She grumbles playfully and smiles as she hands you your cup.

"At least we all seem to be energized today." You smile brightly in gratitude, bringing the cup to your lips so you could blow on it.

Emily nods and plops down across from you. "Yeah, and it seems like our guy is in no rush." She huffs and frowns a bit as she addresses the three of you guys. "Lisa's parents haven't gotten a second ransom note yet."

Your eyebrows furrow at the news. Lisa Thomas was the unsub's latest victim, having been snatched almost three days prior.

"He's breaking pattern?" You ask in disbelief, frowning as you think.

"Or he's found what he was looking for." Aaron's smooth voice flows into the room and you instinctively stiffen up, posture suddenly pin-straight. "Good morning." He nods to all of you.

You miss the amused look Derek and Emily share as your eyes flicker to Aaron's figure as he strolls towards the table. He was in his usual suit, bringing his arm up to check his watch for a moment, the action drawing your gaze to his hands.

Your voice dies a little in your throat and Aaron's eyes find yours, softening a bit.

Emily swoops in and jumps off of his suggestion. "You think he's found the perfect opportunity from Lisa?"

Aaron debates this and spares a glance toward Spencer's motionless figure. "Her parents are the most affluent. It could be that he's planning out his next move to optimize monetary gain."

Still, that theory didn't seem right to you. It had to be something else. His ransom notes were vague, making steep demands that were undeniably impossible to meet in his given time window.

Besides, autopsy had told you all that he had killed the previous girls only hours after the ransom notes were estimated to have been delivered.

And then it hits you.

"He was practicing." You suddenly say, blushing sheepishly when you realize you said it louder than you intended.

Aaron looks back to you and gently asks, "Practicing?"

Willing every ounce of professionalism in your body to come together, you nod and glance toward Reid's map. "What if Lisa isn't just another one of his victims? What if she was the goal the entire time? He never intended on letting any of his previous captives live, that's why he never even went to pick up any ransom money that was offered."

Derek's eyes widen and he nods, the gears turning in his head. "Her background doesn't match his previous three victims then, but how?"

Spencer suddenly cuts in, having had an epiphany as he draws four circles around the map, three forming a triangle around the fourth circle. "Status. Lisa's family lives on the top of the estate hill."

"But the other three girls also came from wealthy backgrounds?" Emily asks, leaning forward in her seat.

"The hill is the status symbol... he's been targeting increasingly wealthy girls to test the limits, to see if he'd get caught." You say softly.

Reid nods and looks to you in an almost excited manner from the breakthrough. "We've been looking at this the wrong way. He's not trying to get ransom money, it's much more personal than that and he's trying to throw us off his trail."

"We need to interview the residents living at the bottom of the hill. Prentiss, pay the Thomas' another visit and ask them about anybody in their lives who they've casted aside that may have been personally involved with Lisa" Aaron says firmly, already reaching for his phone. He pauses before looking at you, face softening a bit. "Nice work."

Your eyes widen and you stutter out a surprised response. "I... thank you, sir."

Aaron looks like he wants to say something again, but he decides not to and spins on his heel to make some calls. Derek chuckles and shakes your shoulders. "Good job, sunshine. But you have got to stop making googly eyes at the boss man."

"I'm not making googly eyes!" You protest, ignoring your sweaty palms and racing heart.

Derek lifts his hands up in surrender, his smug grin unwavering. "Whatever you say."

It takes only half a day after your revelation to catch the unsub, a secret boyfriend of Lisa's who lived at the bottom of the hill. He had intended to take her and run away since her parents disapproved of their relationship, but he wasn't able to follow through with that plan because Lisa had found out about his penchant for murder and planned to turn him in.

"How scary." You sigh and frown a bit as the team packs up, ready to leave the precinct and get back on the jet.

"You're telling me. Killing innocent girls to try and hide your girlfriend's abduction is certainly..." Emily trails off with a flabbergasted look, not having a word to describe the situation.

"This is why I am never dating." You grumble, smiling when Emily gives you an eyebrow raise. "I mean it!"

"Sure, sweetheart. Don't think we forgot how you want to be Mrs. Unit Chief." Derek jokes, snickering as he slings his bag over his shoulder.

Emily nods in agreement and pats your arm fondly. "Steam practically erupts from your face whenever he's within a four feet radius of you, honey."

You gasp in denial and turn to Spencer. "Spence, I'm not like that, am I?"

Your friend perks up at the sudden question and blinks a couple of times. "Uhm... you kinda are." He says with a sheepish smile, hating to burst your bubble of delusion.

"Oh my god... I need a drink." You huff and sigh in defeat.

"Now that's something I can agree with." Derek chuckles and slings his arm around your shoulder. "Let's celebrate when we get back."

You throw your head back and sigh dramatically. "You guys totally suck by the way."

You try to avoid thinking of the matter in the coming days, becoming even more skittish around Aaron. Unbeknownst to you, your boss had long caught on to the crush you harbored for him, and was growing more impatient with your constant avoidance.

A week after you get back from the case, you're distracted by a sight in front of you that has you nearly drooling. Aaron is pacing in his office, blinds open, suit jacket off, with his arm muscles rippling as he adjusts the cuffs of his sleeves.

He's speaking into his phone, his signature frown painting his face.

Your chin is propped up against your hand as you watch him, a hint of wonder in your gaze as your paperwork is long forgotten about in front of you.

You're suddenly jolted out of your stupor when a pair of hands land on your shoulders. "What are we looking at, sunshine?" Derek's voice rings out by your ear as he follows your gaze with a chuckle. "That checks out."

"Here to torment me again, oh great one?" You joke and poke his ribs with your finger.

He shakes his head and moves his hand to rest on the back of your chair. "Maybe later. The team was planning on grabbing some drinks tonight, and you're coming."

"I have no say in this?" You ask and chuckle, smiling brightly at the prospect of having a fun night out with the team.

"Nope. Neither does the boss man." Derek grins mischievously as he glances towards Aaron's office.

Your eyes widen owlishly and you gape. "Wait, Hotch is coming too?"

He pats the back of your chair and smirks. "Yep! See you tonight, sweetheart. JJ's picking the place so make sure to check the groupchat." He says and walks off before you can get another word out.

Blinking slowly, your mind suddenly conjures up a mental image of your closet as you start debating on what to wear.

Meanwhile, across the bullpen, Hotch is speaking lowly into his phone as he suddenly feels very silly. "So?" He gruffly asks, eyes darting to his discarded jacket.

"What? You're telling me you couldn't feel the heart-shaped lasers coming your way?" Emily's voice rings out on the other side of the phone with an amused huff.

He sighs softly and frowns. He had no idea what the hell he was doing and why he even agreed to the the team's little scheme in the first place.

"Okay, I can hear you overthinking from here. Trust me, she was ogling you like no tomorrow. And she knows you're coming tonight, so wear something nice." She advises gently.

His frown deepens and he looks out of his office window and into the bullpen, seeing your frazzled figure deep in thought at your desk. "Yeah, like what?"

"You didn't hear this from me, but she likes your arms. Do what you will with that knowledge." Emily muses out lightly, recalling the time when you had practically gushed to her and JJ that Aaron wasn't in his suit for once when he came by to pick something up at his office.

Both her and JJ figured out pretty quickly that you were raving about it because of his exposed arms as you kept circling back to how muscular they looked.

Emily felt a bit guilty for tipping Hotch off about that, but she could ask for your forgiveness at a later date.

Later that night, you're contemplating faking a flat tire to get out of the get-together, but Aaron being the kind of person he is, would likely offer to come pick you up instead.

Seeing no escape, you decide to just toughen up and join in on the night of fun. You were dressing up a bit more than usual, and you decided to arrive fashionably late to avoid being paired off with your early-bird boss. You don't think you'd survive another embarrassing interaction with him.

It's a bit past nine by the time you arrive at the bar, most of your team already two shots of vodka deep. Waving at the group, you do a double take when you see Aaron sitting beside the only empty spot, sporting a navy polo shirt that hugged his biceps deliciously, two of the top buttons undone.

You pause in step for a second and nearly stumble into someone as your eyes are zeroed in on him. What the fuck was he wearing, and was he trying to kill you?

Regaining your bearings after a couple of seconds, you continue walking and smile softly.

"Hey guys..." You chuckle as Penelope gasps at the sight of you.

"Hot! Hot!" She squeals out and stands up, hugging you and looking at your outfit.

You smile brightly and shake your head. "Says you, beautiful! Also, are you already drunk?" You chuckle, knowing she could never pass up any kind of fruity margarita.

"Not yet! I was waiting for you!" She giggles excitedly and drags you closer to the table your team was occupying.

"Look who made it!" Derek calls out and grins, a half-empty glass of negroni in front of him.

You slowly shuffle toward the only vacant spot that was coincidentally beside Aaron, narrowing your eyes playfully at your beaming friend. "I knew you'd come kicking down my door if I didn't turn up."

Derek simply picks up his glass and cheers to your words, not even bothering to deny it. Shaking your head a bit, you place your bag in your lap and brave a glance at Aaron, plastering on a small smile when you meet his gaze.

"You look beautiful." Aaron says to you in a low voice, his entire attention focused on you.

"Oh, thank you, sir..." You say bashfully, eyes scanning his face and dropping down to the pink cocktail JJ's sliding to you with a subtle wink.

Aaron tilts his head a smidge and smiles at you fondly. "How many times have I told you that you can just call me Aaron? Or Hotch, at the very least."

"Oh, right. Sorry, Aaron." You say a bit shyly, taking a sip from the cocktail and praying no one takes notice of your shaky hand. "Uhm... I'm surprised you came out tonight."

Aaron leans his elbows on the table, keeping his head turned to face you. It was sinful the way his muscles were flexing, and you really couldn't escape the sight of the defined veins running down his forearms.

His large, calloused hands kept calling for your attention and you could only force yourself to look away from them when he responded to you.

"Well, I thought it would nice to celebrate a bit."

You nod at his explanation and gaze at him. "You... you look really nice." Your voice is soft and barely audible over the booming laughter and upbeat music echoing around the bar.

Aaron seems pleased by your words, his eyes twinkling as he chuckles and smiles almost boyishly. "Thank you, sweetheart."

Your entire face blossoms with warmth as you hear the pet name, mouth parting a bit in surprise as you try to muster up a response. Luckily, you're saved when Penelope loudly announces that everyone is doing a round of shots, leaving no room for argument.

The rest of the night is filled with endless laughter and tall glasses of colorful cocktails, leading Penelope and Derek to quickly get tipsy, hitting the dance floor together before you're even through with your first drink. You and Aaron decide to opt out of drinking too much, with the man being completely sober by the time midnight rolls around.

It's not long before you find that your entire team, save for Aaron, are scattered around somewhere in the bar. You glance at the man and find him already gazing at you, expression soft and adoring. It was clear that he was growing a bit weary the longer the night dragged on, and you couldn't understand why he was forcing himself to stay.

"Are you the designated driver?" You ask and smile kindly at him, knowing everyone else on the team would be sloshed by the time they had the sense to call it a night.

Aaron nods and he leans a bit closer to you, shoulders sagging tiredly. "Seems like it." He pauses before sighing almost bashfully. "To be honest, I lied to you earlier about why I came out tonight."

"Huh, why?" You ask and tilt your head, your heart racing a bit as he licks his lips nervously.

"Because... Well, the reason I decided to come tonight was because of you." He states quietly, eyes gazing at you fondly. "I'm tired of waiting."

You stay silent, eyes wide as you try to process his words.

"May I kiss you?" He finally whispers, eyes flickering from yours and down to your lips.

Without hesitating, you surge forward and lock your lips with his, hands resting against his firm chest. Aaron reciprocates immediately, one of his hands moving to your waist while the other rests against the back of your head, gently keeping you close.

Kissing Aaron feels magnetic, every movement flowing into something more intense as neither of you can help but draw closer to one another. His hand squeezes your waist as his nose nudges against yours, his lips relentless in their pursuit of yours.

When you finally pull back a little for air, you grow a bit shy as you see the string of saliva between you both.

"I like you." You whisper, hands rubbing against the material of his polo shirt.

He chuckles breathlessly and pulls you closer to him by your hip. "I like you too, honey." His arm wraps around you and your eyes close instinctively, feeling yourself becoming addicted to his lips already.

Neither of you see your team members cheering from across the bar as they see Aaron dive in for more kisses from you, movements akin to that of a starved man.

When they finally stumble back to the table a mere ten minutes later, no one says anything for a second as they all realize you're both long gone.

Emily groans softly and plops down in one of the chairs. "Did Hotch forget he was our ride home?"

Derek grunts and picks up a pink sticky note on the table, your penmanship a bit sloppy as if you had written on it in a rush.

'Called cabs for you guys! JJ, I called Will. Text us when you guys get home safely x'

[mesetacadre]

(sorry in advance for the more personal ask, you're the most intelligent person i know of when it comes to these things)

genuinely, how are we supposed to find the strength to go on? it feels like capitalism has won. only a few decades ago my country was openly and proudly socialist, and now we're nothing but an american military base with an economy. everything's been privatised, the unions are broken, the people are starving, and we keep voting for more of this! people are gleefully begging for yet more exploitation! sometimes it feels there's not a drop of class consciousness to be found in the entire country, and that it's pointless to even hope for change. how can i stay sane?

The class struggle is not a team sport which either side can win or lose. It is a historical and economic process, one that's inevitable. As long as capitalism exists, there will be a social majority of workers it must exploit, alienation will still happen, and a portion of these workers will be aware of this fact. The class struggle is also a long process, one that, most of the time, is imperceptible to the individual in physical and time scale. Only sometimes, it accelerates to dizzying speeds and the conditions necessary for taking power are met. We can talk about victories and defeats, but we can't lose sight of the fact that those "only" are points in time, momentaneous advances or retreats in the process that is the class struggle, but they never mean the paralization of this process.

We can only really talk about the bourgeoisie taking power and creating the first properly capitalist states in the late 18th century and early 19th, but the bourgeoisie had lead or taken part in attempts at or glimpes of revolution as far back as the early 16th century. The bourgeoisie never really had an unifying theory of the class struggle, most were never really fully conscious of it. But they still eventually took power, once the development of the national economies advanced so far that it forced the replacement of the feudal mode of production, the bourgeois revolutions became inevitable. Marx and Engels only ever saw one real attempt at the proletariat taking power, in the Paris Commune of 1871, but it only ever lasted a few months. They both were long dead when the first actually (relatively) long-lasting instance of the proletariat in power broke the oppressor classes' veneer of invincibility.

When Marxists talk of inevitability it is not in a conspiratorial manner, or an expression of satisfied optimism, we never mean that "one day the capitalists will get what's coming to them", in a vague way. We mean that, only if communists continue to work towards the revolutionary organization of our class, is a complete overthrow of capitalism inevitable. We should all do an exercise is historical perspective when it comes to analyzing progress, take the Marx and Engels example from the previous paragraph, they never got to see an effective application of their theories. Class consciousness will fluctuate continuously, it always has. The bolshevik party in 1913 had nothing to do with the party that lead the October Revolution, and 8 years after the defeat of the 1905 revolution, I bet many felt like their work was hopeless. My point is that, while the borders of the Communist Party may shrink, grow, or even disappear, and while we might be savagely oppressed, no system of oppression has ever lasted forever.

When it comes to revolutions, there are objective and subjective conditions. The objective we can never control; it's the stability of capitalism, the characteristics of its suprastructure, if there is a crisis or not. The subjective is what's under our control; our own work as communists, the state of the revolutionary party, the degree of influence of communists at the core of the working class. These two sets of conditions interact with one another, with the objective conditions influencing the possibility of development of the subjective conditions much more than the reverse. What makes you hopeless is in part the objective conditions. Capitalism is quite stable right now (though not as much as it ever seems), and, for now, we can't do much about it, because the subjective conditions, the other part of your homelessness, are also very delayed. But these we do have control over, at first very little, but as they improve, the control we have over them also increases. Essentially, friend, all we can do is prepare our class, do our best to gain more workers to our cause, bit by bit, so that once capitalism shows one of its cracks, we can be ready to pry those cracks open and bust the whole system. The Russian soldiers in WW1 were already discontent when the bolsheviks began to agitate up to the trenches, Mao's guerrillas grew to an army taking advantage of the deep fragmentation China suffered throughout the first half of the century, etc.

Once again, class struggle is not a straight line that we move in two directions. It is a complex space. The overthrow of the USSR was a very profound blow to revolutionary organizations all around the world, of course, but the state of communism in general in 1995 was still in a much better position than it was merely 90 years prior. Every defeat also sharpens the tactics and strategies we use. Eastern Europe (where I assume you're from) did use to be socialist, and those worker's states were overthrown. But you are still in a better position than a communist in the interwar period, facing borderline fascistic dictatorship and a future of Nazi-Fascist occupation. They did not have any precedent or much practical experience to learn from, but you do. Every day that we delay work, even in the most hopeless of contexts, is a day more that our grandchildren will have to bear in capitalism, and a day more they're deprived of true freedom and self-government

[crazy-pages]

I'm going to throw my two cents in to the conversation about why James Somerton didn't get caught earlier. Part of the answer is of course that he did get caught, he just bullied and lied to get away with it for a while, but I know a lot of people still express confusion. And of course he went out of his way to make sure his audience didn't know about other queer history sources other than himself. But still. How could he have so many viewers of his videos and none of them had seen X source material?

Well. To be blunt, most of his videos were pretty basic. He tended to copy the highlights of what he was plagiarizing, not the really advanced stuff. And insofar as he copied the advanced stuff, he had a tendency to chop it up and serve it out of context alongside other plagiarized work. The material he was presenting was revolutionary to an audience unfamiliar with queer history, but like. I'm guessing 'Disney villains are queer coded' is not exactly a new concept to the kind of people who read multiple books about queer coding in film.

Now I'm not a film studies person, I'm a physicist. But you know what I do when I get a video in my YouTube recommendations about some fairly basic physics concept?

I skip it. No shade to the creator, but like. I hit that topic a decade ago and I've added literally thousands of hours of studying and research to my brain since. I'm just going to give it a pass, all right?

These kinds of videos self-select for an audience which isn't going to be familiar with the source material. The people who know it are unlikely to keep listening after the first minute or so.

And you've got to remember how much of this content the experts have consumed! With very few exceptions for weird little things that stuck in my head after all these years, I would probably not notice a physics explanation plagiarized from one of my textbooks! Not because I wasn't intimately acquainted with the textbook, but because I was intimately acquainted with many such textbooks. Spend enough time learning this stuff and it all blurs together a little bit. Does this explanation sound familiar because you've heard it before, or because you've just read books which cover this specific topic seven different times? And does that wording or that example ring a bell because it's plagiarized, or because it's common to the field?

Catching this kind of plagiarism requires having the kind of people who are already familiar with these sources, and therefore uninterested in video summaries on the topic, to watch the video. And among those people who do, it requires them to match Somerton's words to one specific source on the topic out of many, that they probably read quite some time ago. And then you have the filter of how many of those subject matter experts have the source on hand to check, to turn a vague "...hmm" into something solid.

If you know enough about queer history to say that some of his plagiarism was obvious, now that you've watched the video, then you should remember that there is a reason you probably weren't one of the people watching his videos! And because YouTube promotes videos through algorithmic engagement, none of this stuff has to pass the sniff test for any other expert in the field before it gets released. No experts have to like it for it to get published or for it to get good reviews or for it to get a recommendation in, I don't know, the New York Times.

The only people who have to like the videos for them to get traction are people who are just trying to learn introductory queer history and film theory. The exact people who aren't going to notice this. And for those of you who to whom it is obvious, ask yourself. When was the last time you watched a basic level queer history introduction on YouTube?

[starbop]

How SMELLY all the Honkai Boys are...

Here's my ranking of HSR boys based on how much I think they smell. Explanations + headcanons below the cut!

The Top Stinkers

Caelus literally digs through garbage for fun. I don't think I need to defend their spot as the #1 stinkiest mf in this whole game. 11/10 on the stink scale.

Sampo also has the energy of someone who enjoys garbage. I, for one, have no idea where that thing has been and I don't think I want to know. He is also known to hide in piles of snow when need be, meaning he's just out there rolling around on the ground sometimes. 10/10 would not sniff again.

Luka is the sweatiest man alive. But he looks SO good doing it. The sparks and smoke his arm produces, while very cool to look at, do not help his smelliness rating. 8/10 because he at least has good reasons for smelling funky.

I do not think Blade has ever taken a shower. You could fry a whole chicken with the oil from his hair. 9/10.

Boothill smells like a mixture of motor oil, grease, and sweat. Not a smell I would personally hate, but objectively not a good one. Yeehaw/10.

The Smelly

I feel like, in theory, you could smell like anything in the Dreamscape. I just also feel like Gallagher would not choose to smell good. 7/10.

I really want to believe that he'd smell good, but the second he finishes his magical girl transformation sequence, Imbibitor Lunae reeks with the smell of seaweed. I will deduct a stinky point from my initial rating because some people may think this smells good. They are wrong. 7/10.

Neutral Smelling

Yanqing should reek from all the time he spends fighting and training, but Jing Yuan is not letting that boy leave the house without taking a bath. 6/10.

Arlan bathes regularly, but I can't imagine him having a particularly strong smell. Asta will occasionally gift him some lightly scented soaps, though. If anything, he smells vaguely like Peppy. 5/10.

Gepard might get a little sweaty under all those layers, but he doesn't have a strong scent one way or the other. 4/10.

I Am Sniffing Respectfully

I just KNOW that the Astral Express has the nicest bathrooms in the universe. Dan Heng and Welt stay smelling FRESH. 3/10.

(Though Dan Heng has ended up smelling like bubblegum on a few occasions after borrowing March's shampoo...)

Misha smells like a sweet dream. I don't know what dreams smell like, but that's the only way to describe Misha's scent. Vaguely like cotton candy, perhaps. Ethereal/10.

Jing Yuan takes bubble baths with Mimi and you can NOT change my mind. I can totally picture him dozing off peacefully after a nice, warm bath. I-can-overlook-the-cat-hair/10.

We've seen Ratio take SO many baths at this point that I don't think you could find a single speck of dirt on that man's perfect body if you tried. How are his fingers not just permanently pruney? I hate him so much. 1/10.

I AM SNIFFING DISRESPECTFULLY

Argenti smells like roses and sunshine. 0/10 smelliness can I please bottle your sweat sir

Luocha has to smell great with all those flowers he summons. I would grind him down to make potpourri. Not sure about the coffin, though. -2/10.

And as for Aventurine? Cologne. SO much cologne. Whether this is a good or bad thing is up to you, but he certainly has A Smell. Subjective/10.

[galedekarios]

just musing about gale and his parents:

we only have a handful of conversations where he mentions his parents and when he does, it's usually only his mother, morena dekarios.

his mother is mentioned at several points in the game. during a custom protag playthrough, he mentions her in a datamined conversation that appears to be bugged/broken:

and he mentions her at the end of the game as well when he proposes to the player:

i was also able to find another mention in a banter with karlach that usually happens for me shortly after recruiting her:

from gale's origin, this aspect is explored even more deeply:

there's more, of course, and it very clearly shows that the bond he shares with his mother is a deep and loving one from both sides. it's also very interesting that he is called dekarios after his mother and not--even though naming conventions could certainly vary even in waterdeep--after his father.

who he doesn't mention at all.

the only time we do get a vague mention is during a conversation with the protag after saving mirkon from the harpies:

after that, i haven't been able to find any reference, indirect or direct, to gale's father in the game.

so, here we enter theory territory:

i feel that, from a narrative point of view, in keeping with what i think gale's themes are, gale's father may have abandoned gale and his mother when gale was still young.

gale's character is rife with what might be interpreted as abandonment issue and it makes sense to me at least that those weave through his life up until the point where the protag meets him in the game.

another theme with gale is that he appears to have a lot of female figures in this life, who all had a profound impact on him, whether that impact is positive or negative: morena, tara, and yes, mystra.

it feels like to me that he had no father figure--and i use that term a bit more loosely here--until later in his life with elminster. this is already hinted at in a game with a custom protag, but all the more solidified in a gale origin playthrough:

i think without directing telling you, the game does allow you to sort of guess at that part of his background in this way, and understand why gale is as he is as a consequence. you can also understand why he acts as he does with elminster. seeking his approval. yearning for it. being extremely hurt by elminster having to see him like this when mystra sends him to gale to deliver her... instructions. this almost pointed absence of a mention of his father in all his comments (and tara's too, now that i think about it) when it comes to family is glaring to me.

being left, being abandoned, makes it much more understandable to me why he doesn't speak of him at all: if gale's father had died, it would make more sense to me that he would remark on it or share it in some way or another. it might have come up in a banter with wyll, perhaps, who is struggling with the expectations his own father had placed on him.

"he died when i was still very young." perhaps, or something along the lines of, "i barely remember him; he died when i was only a child.", etc etc etc.

YET if gale's father indeed abandoned his mother--who he holds in such high regard, and not to mention his own hurt--i can easily see and understand why he wouldn't waste a word on him.

anyhow yes, this is long and ramble-y, and i 100% might be reading too much into what may be a simple oversight, but it was interesting to me and i still see it as tying in with the theme of abandonment, even though we don't know the reasons for it in this particular case.

was it not wishing to deal with a child with magical talents he couldn't control yet? was it for another reason entirely?

[mlyscha]

( ✉️ ) 𝒜nony𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬ly in l𝓸ve.

★ ( 언하이픈 NI-KI ) ── SUM. in which you have a crush on the popular guy in your class but is too shy to confess, sending him letters anonymously. genre. angst, cliche, fluff, crack, crush to more (?). 𝒻ℯ𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖾 𝗿𝖾𝖺𝒹𝖾𝗋! 𝓌𝒸. 799O ♡ 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌, 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱! ( 𝐦𝖺𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍. ) ❔ PART.2

BIG warnings. mentions of food, reader is bullied by mean girls in class, jaeyun, heeseung and sunghoon study in the same class as riki, sexual term: "get his dick wet", curse and dirty words, vague mention of sending nudes, reader lives with her sister and grandma, reader mum's passed away, sunghoon's indirect kiss theory is mentioned, slow burn, not proofread, english is not my 1st language.

𝒜!NOTE. HAPPY LATEEEEE BIRTHDAY MY BABY RIKI, I LOVE YOU MWAH MWAH IM GONNA CRY I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!!!! ><

YOU LOVE WATCHING YOUR CRUSH practice after class at an empty classroom. even though you felt nervous to be spotted and perceived as a creep, you kind of wanted to, wondering if riki would look deep into your eyes for the first time in years you've been loving him.

yesterday you wrote your first letter to him, expressing how much you admired him and how much you loved when his smile while he joked with his friends. you left the letter inside his backpack and watched his expression change the moment he realised something like a crumpled paper was hiding in the very depth of it. once you saw his frown and laugh while joking about the, well, the once love letter, you felt embarrassed ━ almost like ashamed.

you wondered for a second: why would he laugh at something you spent all night writing and planning how to give it to him? and why would he walk up to the trash bin? ━ did he threw it away? wait, did he? ━ your eyes began to form tears. you watched your crush walk out of the classroom while talking loudly with his friends, but the only thing that could be heard were your loud thoughts.

you quickly woke up from your trance and walk up to the trash bin to check if your situation was unfortunate. and i guess it was, well, is.

YOUR HEART BEGAN TO BEAT faster once your phone ringed. thankfully, riki wears earphones while practicing. you sighed before sitting on the ground while your back rested against the cold wall behind you.

"what do you want?!" "wow, someone's a bit grumpy today, huh? he didn't come to school?" your sister jokes. you take a deep breath before replying. "what do you want?!" you whine. "grandma is asking you to come back earlier," she says. "why?" "because she is worried about you." "okay, bye-" "wait! can you buy me some ice cream?" you sigh. "no! you just said grandma wants me to come back home earlier, dumbass!" "but... a few minutes won't hurt anyone! hang up and you'll get home even quicker! bye!" "by- ugh..."

you stood up from the ground, taking care to not be spotted again while adjusting your backpack. you took a quick glance at the classroom where riki were. however, he was gone, leaving you confused since you didn't know he just left. "does it means he saw me?!" you whispered-yelled, thinking to yourself. "did he?!" you glanced back, looking at nothing else than a beautiful orange sunset, temporarily painting those white walls.

YOU LEFT THE SCHOOL BUILDING and realised a few students were still wandering around the campus. you took a deep breath, enjoying the great weather of a breezy monday.

however, the weather felt colder and you began to feel fear, something about chills down your spine. that's when you knew they were coming. "hey, hey, hey, where do you think you're going, sweetie?" the three girls behind her chuckled after she called you that. "tell me," she looked down at you like you were a little kid. "is that how you want riki to call you, mhm?" she smirked while the other girls laughed again.

her name is yoko: an exchange student from japan. of course she protected riki with her heart! she is just his type and talks to her, differently from you. she is cute in the masculine perception, she has that haircut he loves, is good at everything and speaks three languages besides japanese. ━ literally a school queen bee.

"you want to have some fun with us tonight?" yoko placed her arm across your shoulders, abruptly pulling it to look down. "look at this scaredy cat!" she jokes, laughing out loud. "what are ya'll looking at?!" she yells at some students who were watching from afar. sighing, she angrily smiles. "you don't need to go home right now, right?" you keep yourself shut. "right, sweetie?" she pulls your hair and forces you to shake your head. "no, yeah... perfect! i am in a mood to..." she hums, thinking. "massage! ugh, my day was so stressful!" yoko leads you back to school, planning to get her massage done at one of the classrooms.

"Y/N, LISTEN: WHERE ARE YOU?!", "okay, at this point my ice cream is melted, come home!" "never mind, y/n, i don't want ice cream anymore, come home." your sister's voice echoed while you listened to her voicemail. you wondered if she were still awake at this point.

your head hurts and your mascara is ruined. your hands emptied and your legs almost giving up from being on your knees for two long hours. therefore, you called her while walking on the street back home.

"hey..." "Y/N?! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" "um... i got caught up on some things and-" "IT'S THOSE GIRLS AGAIN, RIGHT?! WHERE ARE YOU?!" "sis," you sigh. "stop. i am almost home." "stop? STOP, Y/N? WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO YOU THIS TIME?! WHAT HAVE-" bep ━ you hang up on her face.

YOU TOOK A DEEP BREATH before unlocking your house's door, silently walking in just to encounter the lights off and a awkward silence creeping you; once you saw the feminine figure walking down the stairs. "y/n?!" your sister whispered yelled, rushing to check on you. "are you okay?" you nod. "what have they done to you this time, oh my god, look at your face!" she tries to rub her thumb against your smudged mascara, but you avoid it. "i'm going up to my room," "no, you-" "let me go!" you snap, tears streaming down your face. "today was a hard day, okay?" you sniff before sprinting to your room, leaving your sister dumbfounded.

"HOW WAS SCHOOL YESTERDAY, SWEETIE?" your grandma asks you while placing a piece of teared bread on your plate. "um... it went fine." "oh, yeah? i was worried about you... i apologise, i slept before you could arrive home, did you eat something?" "oh, yeah." you nod, smiling a little bit.

"liar," your sister murmurs. "what? liar? who?" your grandma questions her behavior, sitting on her chair. "did i say liar?" she chuckles, sitting beside you after taking a sip on her coffee. "i meant air fryer! i need to buy an air fryer..." she address you a deep glance, acting a little thoughtful. "but our oven works just fine, hun'" "oh, yeah, i know," she shrugs. "i was just doing like, um... manifestation...?" "you and that manifestation thing," the old lady laughs.

"um... i should get going by now, i'll be late..." you murmur, standing up from the table still chewing on some bread. "okay, sweetie, take care!" your grandma and your sister wave at you and you finally walk out of your house.

you sigh before checking the time on your phone, making sure you could still get the bus to your school. confirming you were good, you walked to the nearest stop like you always did. you picked up your earphones from your backpack and began to listen to some music, focusing on your own steps, looking down.

feeling calmed down while holding the letter you wrote last light, you recapped your plan, in which: you will try to slip between his locker gaps. and then, you-

"oh, sorry," you bump onto someone's back, interrupting your thoughts. you take off your earphones before replying. "oh, no problem..." your tongue felt dumb for a second when you recognised those hands. those hands belongs to someone you like. someone you love. suddenly, reality check began to hit you, and realising your lover's hand were handing you the letter ━ supposed to be delivered a few hours later ━ you panicked.

"um... it's not mine!" you speak nervously, taking a few steps back while waving your hands. "but- it came out of your- um.. somewhere?" "u-uh... you can j-just throw it in the trash nearby-" "what? no way i am letting this go into the trash, this looks fire!" riki smiles. "you think so...?" "yeah! it's beautiful, man," ━ why did you throw it away yesterday, then?

"oh... but why would you keep it, it's not really necessary..." "why are you so interested on what i am going to do with this letter if it doesn't belongs to you?" riki suddenly speaks up, chuckling at your dropped jaw. he slips the/your letter on his trouser's pocket and nods at the bus ━ that just arrived ━ like he was telling you: let's go. ━ so you enter the vehicle.

you watched riki greet his friends that were already sat on the bus. by somewhat miracle, you were fated to sit beside him. your legs felt like jelly when he looked at you up and down before nodding his head at the empty sit beside the window. it took you a few seconds before walking up to that sit.

uncomfortably is how you felt for riki once he sat beside you, an awkward silence was created and the only thing you were hearing was his friends laughter while the japanese boy murmured something. you felt embarrassed, like you were a rock on their ways. somehow a burden.

"hey," a deep voice echoed close to you. you glance to your side and your eyes meet with riki's. "what happened to your knees?" he nods at your knees once he realised you didn't seemed aware. "you would you look down to my knees?" your crush's face expression changed to a confused one, almost like surprised by your question. "wow, i am not interest on you or in your intimacy, i was just simply curious," he lets out a nasal chuckle, almost like mocking you. "but, never mind, i guess..." you sigh, putting your earphones back, realising you just ruined everything.

IT WAS LUNCH TIME AND you have written your crush a letter while sitting on a toilet at the restroom's stall. you couldn't craft an envelope, so you apologised while thinking about what else to write. with that, while no one was walking by at the hallway, you took the chance to put your plan into action and slip the letter into his locker ━ you also wrote on the letter that you were upset he threw your letter away, giving him a hint you were from his class.

once the bell ringed, you were already at class taking some notes from last class. you saw riki walk in while holding your opened letter. your cheeks felt hotter, your surroundings was forgotten and your eyes locked on him.

feeling the burning sight, riki tries to find who was marking a kiss on his back, meeting his eyes with you for a second, nothing special. however, that was enough to get you all shy and giggly ━ obviously on the inside.

"Y/N! UGH, WHERE IS SHE?!" yoko's scream was heard throughout the halls and your eyes widened once you realised how mad she sounded. "I AM GOING TO KILL THAT BITCH!" once you heard that you started to run, you ignored everything: the growing embarrassment feeling inside of you and the looks people were giving you. "THERE IS THAT WHORE! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" she shouts, running towards you. "YOU CAN RUN AS MUCH AS YOU WANT, BITCH!"

while running, you looked back and drew your attention to her. with this little lack of attention, you bumped onto someone, in which you prayed it wasn't riki. however, that smell... that chest... that voice... "shit!" that was riki.

"I PROMISE! SHE DEFAMED ME! that's why i chased her!" you listened yoko complain to the principal. "is that true, miss?" the principal questions you, cocking a brow. you breathed to speak but the japanese girl had other plans. "yes! it is true, mr. yang! she did it!" "yoko, let your colleague answer!" "um... it's not tru-" "STOP LYING, YOU IDIOT!" she yelled. "SHUT UP!" you stood up from your seat. "GIRLS! STOP! YOU TWO WILL BE CLEANING THE SCHOOL AFTER CLASS! DONE!"

"UGH! THIS IS UNFAIR!" you shout. "miss, watch your tone..." the principal threatens. "huh?! watch my tone?" you chuckle, slowly looking at mr. yang with teary eyes. "mr. yang, i think you didn't listen the way she called me an idiot and all the times i've complained about yoko's behaviour towards me! you don't listen!" "enough, y/n! i am calling the person in charge of you." "but-" "NO buts, dismissed," you sigh before walking to the door. "wait, miss y/n, i am keeping an eye on you!" the principal points at you, making your eyes roll with frustration.

once both of you walked off of the principal's office, yoko turned her face at you with a creepy smile. "i am not staying late cleaning this lousy school with you, i hope you know this." she shrugged nodding her head, bumping her shoulder against yours. "oh, and i almost forgot," she slowly turns back to look at you. "if you think you can get riki with those silly, dumb letters, i am afraid that... you might lose him for someone else..." flying you a playful kiss and realising you were in the brim of crying, she laughs out loud, walking away.

and you? you stay, standing there like an dumped idiot. feeling a sense of loneliness and humiliation, your feet felt numb and you fell onto the ground, weak and helpless.

you wanted riki to like you. you really wanted to. however, you knew you were and would never be in his league, that's why you preferred seeing him smile, even though it wasn't at or for you. ━ or, because of you.

your head hurts, sending you a signal of stress. your eyes were completely blinded by the sight of crystal clear hurtful tears, filled with nothing else but embarrassment.

"OH MY GOD! ANOTHER GUM!" you scrunch your nose while cleaning up a desk. "i guess that was mine," a deep voice echoed throughout the empty classroom and your heart dropped. you turned your head back, surprised and nervous. "oh..." "just kidding." riki chuckles, walking in. "will i disturb you if i sit here?" he asks you while sitting down on the chair you always sat on.

you smirk a little, but turn you head as it grew to a big grin. "no..." you murmur, using a wet cloth to wipe some notes written down on the desk. "great," riki sighs while watching you clean the classroom. "need a hand?" you pondered for a second. "sure..." you reply. in a abrupt act, you hear the sound of his wrinkled white school shirt while he stood up, and suddenly he was standing right beside you.

"what can i do to help you then?" "um..." you blink a few times taking a small step back. "you can get that extra cloth and, um... wipe the black board for me?" "yeah," your crush smiles at you, making your heart melt.

a few seconds surviving under a uncomfortable silence, riki speaks up: "where do you live?" ━ don't mess it up this time! "uh... i live close to that supermarket," "which one?" "i think its name is... fresh basket." "really?!" "yeah..." "i live on the street behind fresh basket!" you gasp, turning to look at him dumbfounded. "are you kidding me? how come i haven't seen you anywhere?" you watch him shrug while pouting his lips.

"by the way," he clears his throat, leading his way to sit on the teacher's chair. "are you and yoko in... good terms now?" you notice the hesitance creeping his tone. you sigh and sensing a hint that that wasn't the case, riki adds: "i guess not..."

"do you like her?" you went straight to the point. "what?" "i mean, i don't want to sound invasive but... i am curious," you lean back on one of the desks. "do you like, yoko?" "why?" "i don't know," shrugging, you pick up the mop to clean the floor. "i just think she is your type so... yeah." "fair enough, but, uh..." riki sounded thoughtful, replying: "isn't she like a mean girl or something?" "what do you think?" you ironically answer. "i guess that was an yes, i'll take that, um," he hums, still thinking. "i mean, i don't know where you heard she was my type, so, no, i don't like her." "why do you walk with her then?" ━ rude, y/n!

riki chuckles before sighing. "i am sensing some jealousy, huh?" "what?" you stopped mopping. "why? did i catch you up on a jealousy attack?" he stands up from the chair he was sat on and leans his face closer to yours, analysing you. "you're cute," he giggles, turning his back at you, walking back to the teacher's seat. "you're so cute, y/n, maybe i should start walking with you instead." your crush teases.

"oh, answering your cute jealous question i just walk with that petty bitch because heeseung wants to give her some kisses," he playfully pouts, mocking a peck. "that's all." "heeseung likes her?" "like her? nah, he just wants to get his dick wet," you hum, understanding the situation.

"can i get your number?" "huh?!" you gasp, making riki laugh. "your number!" he displays his hand holding his his phone. "come here, type it," curling his finger while calling you felt intimidating, so you walked up to him and took his phone, finishing mopping and leaving the cleaning tool away; typing your number. "should i save your contact with a heart?" he drops his head to the side, playing with your innocence. "if you want to," you shrug, turning your back at him in a nonchalant act ━ like you weren't dying inside.

"i just sent you an emoji, save my contact, please~" his tone sounded playfully cute. "you want to walk home together since it's late?" you blushed with the thought of walking home side by side with your crush. "uh, sure!" "good."

"HERE YOU GO, YOUR DELICIOUS ice cream," riki hands you an ice cream he insisted buying you since he was used doing it after school. "thank you." "no problem." for the first time a comfortable silence was established, but it didn't last for long since riki started talking.

"you wanna know something stupid i heard a while ago?" "mhm?" "sunghoon told me that, a friend of his, right," you nodded, drawing your attention from your ice cream to riki. "told him that when someone wants to try a drink or whatever once you had already put your mouth in it, it's an indirect kiss," riki chuckles, making you laugh. "stupid, right?" "i mean," you thought for a bit. "i guess it makes sense but... i dunno." you shrug, laughing with your crush for the first time.

"do you live with your mum?" you ask riki. "yeah, my mum, my dad and my two sisters ━ konon and misola." "konon? i heard about her! isn't she the girl who won that talent show a few years ago?" "mhm-hm." he confirms, leading you to complete surprise. "i didn't know, i think talent runs in your bloodline, huh?" you joke. "what do you mean?" "you dance, right?" "how did you know?" he stops with his eyes widen, taking a few steps back from shock. "uh... i thought everyone at school knew...?" his face expression has a sudden change: a big smile that wrinkles his eyes, "i'm just playing with you, everyone knows, you're good."

ARRIVING AT YOUR HOUSE ENTRANCE, no more ice cream and no more subjects to discuss at the moment, riki sighs, stopping in front of your house with his hands inside his pockets. "so... what do you say?" "what do you mean?" you frown. "would you like to walk with us?" your crush looks deeply into your eyes across the classroom. "i don't want you to feel like you have to do this ━ just because-" "hey, i'ts fine," he shakes his head, reassuring you. "the boys won't mind! come on!" "uh, i-i-i think i'll get sick tomorrow!"

"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS, Y/N? 'i think i'll get sick tomorrow!' ━ YOU DUMBASS! the boy you like asks you if you want to stay with him and his friends and you reply 'i think i'll get sick blah, blah, blah [...]" your sister complains after eating a spoonful of an old ice cream she had in the freezer. "i-i got nervous!" you defend yourself. "y/n... i fear something..." "what do you mean?" your eyes widened a little bit, confused and curious. "i-i fear i am... NOT your sister because i wouldn't be this stupid!" your sister almost spits on your face, standing up from the sofa and walking up to the kitchen.

"what do you mean~?!" you whine. "now i am feeling regret!" "as you should." she looks dead at your eyes, going back to the comfort of the sofa. "but-" "y/n, sit down," you hesitantly sit down beside your sister. "first of all, you shouldn't be whining and crying for me when you could be, at the very least, holding hands with riki next week," she sighs. "second of all, you said you gave him your number, go for it! text him!" she speaks like its obvious. "it's not that easy... "bitch, yoko made it because she is shameless, and you should be too! in a good way ━ of course."

"WHAT SHOULD I TEXT HIM?" you ask your sister. "i think a cake recipe won't be a good idea., y/n," she sarcastically says, shrugging. "what should i text him then?" she snuggles closer to you on your bed. "do you really want to send your crush a cake recipe?" "no!" "exactly, just send an: 'hey', nice and simple." "a 'heeey' or just 'hey'?" "at this point this word already lost its meaning, just send a 'hey', y/n!" she starts to get impatient. "okay, okay!" your sister watches you type something with a certain hesitance, and in a fast move she grabs your phone, stands up from your bed and texts riki.

"HEY!" you stand up, trying to get your phone back. "wow, i sent just that!" she hands you your phone back. "and a few more thin-" "HEY, HOW ARE YOU, HANDSOME?!" "i don't remember sending that..." you throw your phone on your bed and screams with anger, picking up your pillow and forcing your sister's face against it. "Y/N, IT WAS JUST A SILLY TEXT!" "YOU ARE DEAD, Y/S/N!" "Y/N-" ting ━ new notification rings.

"if that's riki, you're dead, y/s/n," you read his text, which were saying: "hey, i'm fine, how about you, cutie?" both of you started screaming as your nosy sister read his text with you. "OH MY GOD! THIS IS CRAZY!" "I KNOW! GRANDMA IS GOING TO WAKE UP WITH OUR SCREAMS!" "I KNOW, I AM SCARED ━ HOW SHOULD I REPLY HIM?" "ASK FOR NUDES!" "OKA- WHAT?!"

THE NEXT DAY YOU WOKE up late. any guesses? you got a little bit carried away while chatting with riki, leading you to a two hour sleep. you were quickly applying some sun screen when you heard something hitting your window.

at first, you ignored, too busy and late to deal with some random noise. but when it repeated, you got a little confused, ignoring the time just to open it, encountering the black haired japanese boy waving at you while smiling ━ your crush.

"what are you doing?!" you frown. "let's go to school, the last bus is almost arriving!" you gasped, spraying some perfumes and leaving without even closing your window. you sprinted to the door, getting your backpack and getting your shoes on in a very clumsy way, making your sister worry. "are you okay?" your sister asks you when she hears the front door opening. you laugh at her outfit before replying ━ her wet hair tied up in a towel, wearing a hot pink robe matching with her neon top and zebra print leggings. "you look amazing and yes i am okay, i am heading out right now." "alright, take ca- OH MY GOD, RIKI IS OUTSI-"

"hi-" "who was that crazy woman who just screamed my name?" you two began to walk side by side to the bus stop. "my sister..." you replied, kind of embarrassed. "she is so cool, does she live with you and your mum?" "she does but i don't live with my mum." "oh? yeah?" sensing your sensitive tone, he doesn't ask much about it. "yeah, i live with my grandma though." "so, you, your sister and your granny?" "mhm-hm." "your family feels welcoming," riki comments, making you smile and blush with the subtle compliment.

"are you hungry?" he asks. "kind of, why?" "here," he takes something out of his pocket and hands to you. "my mum made this biscuits," you took the sugary biscuits. "really?" he hums, confirming, adding: "once i commented about you, she freaked out ━ in a good way, saying she should make something for you." you giggled before replying. "thank her for me," you smile. "she'll be even happier if you ate them..." he hums and you take his sign, unlacing the little bow sealing the small plastic bag holding those sugary godness. "oh my god... it tastes so good, it's delicious!" your eyes widened. "i know." riki playfully brags, bumping his shoulder with yours while smiling.

arriving at the bus stop, you and riki quickly got inside the bus; and since both of you were late, riki's friend weren't there.

riki had to occupy the seat in front of you since both seats beside the window were occupied by two random strangers. thankfully, your relationship with your crush become comfortable overnight, leading to a certain intimacy. with that being said, riki was quick to sit and turn to look at you. but not just turning his head, but his whole body ━ his knees supported by the seat while both of his arms were crossed, laying on the upper part of it. and, of course, his face was just smiling at you. that youthful feeling of a first love began to creepy the corner of your lips, leading to a small grin and a flustered face.

"why? did i make you shy?" he asks. "you're embarrassing me!" you whisper-yell, discreetly nodding at the two strangers ━ giving both of you a confused, amused, yet, dirty look. "sit down!" "why~?" he whines, but you manage to make him seat ━ earning a pouty riki for the rest of the ride.

DURING THE RIDE YOU REMEMBERED last night, while talking with your crush on the phone, you wrote a letter to send him. this time, you were talking about the sound of his voice and how kind you thought he were, trying your best to not give him the hint it was completely and definitely you. because, even though riki seemed the popular, desired, careless japanese boy from school, you knew he is and was intelligent. wise enough to quickly find out about you in a blink of an eye.

"hey, wanna stop writing a little and grab lunch with us?" you stop writing something down on your notebook to look up at the familiar deep voice calling you. "um... maybe later, i'll finish this real quick and i'll catch up with you-" "ey~, come on... uh..." the aussie boy standing beside riki starts speaking, but suddenly stops. however, his friend saves him by whispering something in his ear. "y/n! yeah, come on, y/n! come with us!" you blink a few times, an awkward and painful silence creeping you and the four boys in front of you.

your crush coughs before breaking the awkwardness: "let's go, y/n, otherwise you'll miss lunch like you always do." "how did you...?" you question him and yourself, trying to find how he discovered that. he pulls you from your seat by your hand in a gentle way, placing his arm across your shoulders, attempting to make you more comfortable; and less of a burden ━ since you showed signs of being a over thinker.

"you have a beautiful handwriting i might say," riki comments and you look back, checking if the other boys were there. "oh, thanks." you innocently thank him, smiling. you notice how your crush's smile looked so big and mischievous, mysteriously hiding something. "what?" "mhm? what's what?" "whats up with that grin?" his face shuts. "uh, what grin?" in a cartoonish way, he frowns, mocking an angry face. "weren't going to get sick today?" "stop making fun of me!" you turn your face to avoid his, acting like a child. you pouted while listening to his laughter.

AFTER SITTING DOWN ON A table with riki's friend group, everyone was silent, and riki, noticing your shyness, he nudges heeseung so he can say something to break the ice ━ in which he whispered an: "i gotchu". "soooo... you are close to yoko, y/n...?" "oh my god..." the japanese boy covers his face, taking a deep breath. "what?! i'm just asking my friend something over here!" his friend argues. "sooo?" "um..." "'y/n," riki speaks up. "you don't need to answer this little bitch" he gives heeseung a dirty look. "━ he's being inconvenient right no-"

"no, it's okay, 'ki," you waved your hand. "he didn't know," heeseung glanced at his friend with widened eyes, bumping his shoulder against his, like he just said: "told you so!" "me and yoko we are close" the boy's eyes almost fell off of his face this time. "but" his happy expression dropped. "not in a good way..." you explain. "not in a good way?" he cocks a brow. "yeah..." "how come?" "i-"

"riki~!" that annoying, feminine, high pitched voice echoed all across the lunch room, walking closer to the table and standing behind riki ━ one of her hand placed on her hip. "oh... yoko..." riki's, sunghoon's and jaeyun's face dropped, except fro heeseung. "hi, heeseung!" she waved just her fingers at him in a flirtatious way. "and- oh? y/n?" yoko cocked a brow at the sight of you sitting across the four handsome boys. "what are you doing here?" "she-" "shush, jaeyun! i am asking her!" jaeyun scoffs at her rudeness. "i thought you guys weren't into that charity thing, but... seems pity wins sometimes,"

"stop, yoko." riki pissed off voice spoke up, looking at her with indifference. "what? can't a pretty girl say an ugly truth?" she shrugged and hearing her say that made you feel small. riki sighed before standing up from his seat and picking up your hand. "let's get out of here," the boys were just about to stand up and follow both of you, but riki gently stopped them. "just me and you." he murmured, noticing your vulnerability increasing.

all of the sudden, when you were just about to walk away with riki, yoko began to clap her hands ━ loudly ━ and laugh like she just watched an comedy movie. "don't make me laugh, riki!" yoko's eyes were burning the japanese's boy eyes. she took a step closer to him and whispered for the two of you to hear: "is she my replacement?" she laughed out loud again and at that point, everyone present in the room had their eyes on the three of you, internally fighting. yoko turned, taking a few step forward before dropping her head down ;and turn back with her head cocked to the side. "let's just-" riki tries to speak, but gets interrupted by you ━ pulling his hand to stay.

"i am sorry, y/n," she speaks seriously. "i am sorry, riki; and i am sorry to everyone in this room, but," in a creepy, yet, discreet way he picks up a pen she always kept on the little pocket sewn on her shirt. "there is no room for a replacement here." out of nowhere she screams and starts to chase both of you with a pen but yoko was quickly stopped by jaeyun and sunghoon, while heeseung went to call someone to calm her down.

meanwhile, you and riki ran to the terrace: not just because of yoko but to relax together. "SHIT, Y/N, WHY DID YOU HELD US THERE?!" your crush snaps at you once both of you reached the parapet and took a deep breath. "i-i... we would be fine! it was just a pen-" "JUST A PEN?!" he scoffs. "that shit can kill you if it hits a fucking vital point!" you sigh, way too overwhelmed to deal with his shouting and complains.

"yoko is crazy, you should've known better than anyone!" "i'm sorry..." you murmur, avoiding his angry glance at you. "that shit scared the fuck out of me!" "sorry... i am sorry! sorry!" you snap, falling onto the harsh ground made of hard concrete. noticing your sudden change, riki immediately falls onto the ground with you.

"oh shit, i'm sorry... sorry, y/n, i-i" he exhales. "i got nervous that's all-" "DO YOU THINK I DIDN'T GET NERVOUS TOO?!" you yell, frustrated. "no one has ever understood me! never..." your voice weakens and riki felt guilt flooding his heart. regret hitting his chest a billion times non-stop. "i am sorry. fuck, i'm sorry i hurt you..." "why does people apologise without meaning it?" you glance at him with an exasperated frown. "i mean it! i am not 'people'," he says. "trust me, y/n, i am truly sorry." he emphasises. "fuck it, i can't handle seeing you cry, come here," he embraces you and pulls you closer ━ your face snuggled onto his chest while your body remains half laid.

he holds your face with care and rubs his thumb against your shaky shoulder from small sobs. you start to wonder why he is being so gentle with you. like, one day he didn't even know you existed or looked in your eyes, and in the next day he is reciprocating.

noticing your silence, riki questions: "over thinking?" his voice hit you all of a sudden, making you slightly jump. "no, just-" you sigh. "yeah... how did you know...?" you let out a small chuckle. "you stop blinking when you start your trance." riki pinches your nose and you scrunch it, rejecting his action.

"what were you thinking about?" "mhm... us." "us?" "yes, us," "and 'us' is good or bad?" you feel his long fingered hands play with your hair. "i am not sure..." you pout. "wanna share?" "it's just that-" you kiss your teeth and fidgets with your fingers, conflicting with your own thoughts. "why are you being so gentle with me, riki?" you adjust your posture and look up at him. "all of the sudden?" "i mean," you sit up, interrupting your hair from being caressed. "you were the one treating me some type of way all of the sudden." you argue.

riki thinks and then shrugs. "i am not sure what this is supposed to me-" "what i mean is that: one day you don't even look at me and the other day we are literally cuddling on the ground!" riki and you became silent.

"i have never ignored you if that's what you mean," "eh?" you frown, scoffing as you were mocking his lie. "you're funny, riki; very funny..." you roll your eyes, avoiding his eyes. the japanese boy sits closer to you, pulling your face to meet your eyes with his. "first of all," he looks away from you after making sure you were paying attention to him. "i have looked at you a few- no, lots of times, but, you were too busy taking notes on that stupid notebook of yours." he chuckles. "also, i haven't seen you at parties so it was difficult to talk to you,"

"you could've just talk to me at class..." you murmur. "i tried! but every single time i tried to develop a deep conversation with you, you were always giving me short and dry answers! i thought you didn't like me!" "who said i like you?!" "do you hate me?" you hummed, like you were thinking about it, clearly teasing him. "you do?!" he made an angry face, speaking between clutched teeth. "okay, okay! yeah- i mean, no!" "you!" you stood up and began to run from riki while he chased you across the whole terrace.

"my ankle hurt, wait!" he complains, whining while holding his ankle. you stop for a second to look back at him, however, knowing his playful personality, you didn't believe him. "stop being a cry baby!" noticing he wasn't laughing a little bit but moaning in pain instead, you walk closer to him. "are you really hurt...?" "it really hurts..." when you were just about to gently place your hand on his shoulder, your action was interrupted by his hand holding yours. "just kidding!" and he holds you into a tight embrace. "let me go!" "lemme see... no, i won't!" "let me-"

"what is that?" you frown, confused. "mhm? what?" you began to look around, trying to find something. "that," he nods at the ground once you glanced back at him. your letter. the letter you wrote earlier on the ground in front of your crush, quite literally revealing it was you; who wrote those previous letters. you sigh trying to get an excuse. "what? a piece of paper?" "isn't that fancy envelope i saw that day?" he reefers to that day in which you bumped onto him. "uh... i don't think so..." you shrug, trying to act nonchalant.

riki free you just to pick up the letter from the ground, ignoring your reply. "strange, isn't it like these envelopes are seeking us?" he drops his head to the side, holding the letter. "should i open it?" your eyes widen discreetly. "no!" noticing your exaltation, riki frowns. "why is that?" "because... because what if it is something important?! like a secret or a..." you try to think, tensing your shoulders as you did so. "love letter...?" you shrug, relaxing your shoulders once riki's chuckle reaches your earbuds.

"so... i can't read it then because it can be an love letter?" your crush raises his brows. "um... yeah?" you shrug once again, trying to convince him to leave it alone. "okay," he pouts his lips, handing you the letter. "so, i won't read it," he surrenders himself, but then crosses his arms like an bad boy. "but you will; read it for me." riki sits on the ground, his eyes not leaving you. "we should get back to-" "no, you'll read it for me," he keeps a dead serious face. "now."

he notices how nervous you were looking. the way your fingers were clutching to the paper, slightly crumpling the harsh paper used to craft that beautiful envelope. "y/n," riki's voice wakes you up from your trance. "read it, please?" he kindly asks you this time, making you feel less intimidated. "o-okay..." you peel the small piece of tape you have glued just yesterday, hoping it was your crush ━ poor past y/n. and then, you open the letter and slips the letter out of the envelope, resting the letter above it. you unfold the folded paper and cleans your throat before reading it.

you did a quick read to the letter and remembered that you have mentioned his name many times, so you had to make up something up before reading the first paragraph.

❝ 𝒟ear, Mr. Kim,

I love your laugh. It's like music that heals the soul and guides me to you. I love how kind and playful you can be, it makes me wonder if I will ever be able to make you as happy as you make me. I know I will never be enough, so just read my words of love. I don't need your touch if it's not well deserved ━ ironic for wanting you completely. I like to use poetry as my main source of writing, because I know you don't understand much about literature ━ much less understand my feelings. Not because they are complex, but because they are too distant to ever be discovered by you. All of this may sound painful, and no matter how painful it is, I will be able to survive as long as I can see your smile.

The thought of having you in my life feels so right, like heaven and angels. But, when I remember of my surroundings and situation, feels like dreams not yet dreamed of, printed poetry, handwritten newspapers, silent parrots and talkative owners ━ in other words: one in a billion chance to be compatible.

However, remember me. Don't ever leave me. You don't have me, but it doesn't mean I can't have you, right?

𝒜nonimously in love with you.❞

"wow..." riki began to clap with star eyes looking at you. "so what you just read is a love letter to our... gym teacher?!" he stands up to analyse the letter, but you quickly avoid him from seeing his name written. "hey! i told you you can't read it!" "okay, okay..." he sighs. "do you really want to go back to class?" "i guess," you shrug, keeping the letter inside the pocket of your wool jacket. "wait! no, we won't! look at the sunset!"

"WHERE WERE YOU GUYS?! KISSING?" heeseung asks and sunghoon bumps his shoulders against his, disapproving his question. "yeah, we were," riki says. "wait, WHAT?!" sunghoon suddenly shouts. "yeah, WHAT?!" jaeyun is the next one to shout. "i told you two!" heeseung mock his friends dropped jaw. "give me my $50's, jaeyun!"

"you and jaeyun seriously made a deal if we had kissed?" "of course!" heeseung replied as it was obvious, taking the $50 from jaeyun's hand. "okay, heeseung give it back to him, no lips were touched," riki shakes his head. "HA!" sunghoon mocks his friends with a loud chuckle, making you giggle. "aw man... i just wanted $50 dollars..." "no money for you, idiot!"

A FEW WEEKS HAVE PASSED by. you and riki became even closer and you might admit you fell even more in love with him. if you had a crush on him back then, now you have a whole fantasy of your future with him. talking about relationships, by getting closer to your secret lover, you also got closer to his friends. if you think this doesn't means shit, oh, it does! after heeseung learned about yoko's shitty personality, he dumped her immediately, feeling an extreme sense of empathy for you ━ not in a romantic way.

also, thankfully, somehow, that day yoko freaked out chasing you and riki with a pen was recorded and leaked. with that being said, she probably got embarrassed and wasn't attending school anymore. another important information is that, by getting closer to your crush, you also got closer to his friends. if you think this doesn't means shit, oh, it does! after heeseung learned about yoko's shitty personality, he dumped her immediately, feeling an extreme sense of empathy for you ━ not in a romantic way.

now, you were at your room texting riki about what you had just ate as a midnight snack. then, you sat on your desk to get some work done for the next week. however, a hard object hit your window and your heart was saying something like: it's riki, it's riki, it's riki; but your mind was saying something like: it's nothing, it's nothing, it's nothing.

however, when the object hit your window again, so you opened the curtains and then your window, now confirming: it is definitely riki. "why didn't you answered me right away?" you sighed. "ki, it's literally 3 am in a saturday! and i am a woman, i can't just open my window in the middle of the night." "fair enough," he shrugs, agreeing.

when riki was just about to shout again, you stopped him, gesturing a stop sign with your hand, making him wait. you picked your phone up and pointed to it, mouthing: phone! text! ━ in which he nodded, gesturing an 'okay' with his fingers and then picking up his phone.

he texted: 'wanna sneak out?' ━ you shook your head in response, looking at him from your window. he snorted, frustrated. and then nodded to you ━ your phone. 'can i come in, then? i want to see you...' ━ returning your sight to the japanese pouty boy. you sighed, biting onto your bottom lip before nodding and closing your window.

you were just about to open your front door when another text from riki popped: 'why did you close the window? let me in! i am prepared!!!!!' ━ riki, you-

you sprinted to your bedroom and opened your window, leaving your door opened, worried. he knocked on the glass a few times after seeing you, patiently waiting while holding onto a random ladder. "did you really just brought a whole fucking ladder?" you question him with shock. "of course not," he scoffs like it was obvious. "so... whose ladder is that?" you squint your eyes. "neighbour." "riki!"

"whaaat now?" he whines, laying on your bed, occupying the whole bed. "you and your huge ass body just occupying my whole fucking bed, scooch over!" he groans before rolling onto the other side. "you're annoying..." he murmurs with a muffled voice. "but you love me," "but i love you, you're right," he lays on his back, glancing at you. "that's why you are annoying~" he whines, rolling onto his side, pulling you closer to him by your waist.

"y/n are you awa-AAAAH! WHAT THE FUCK IS HE DOING HERE?!" your sister walks in your room while riki tried to pull you closer to you, attempting to cuddle with you. "AND WHY-" she closes her eyes shut, trying to wake up from that fever dream.

you stand up from the bed and takes her hand, pulling her to talk outside of your room. you close the door behind you while your sister's eyes stayed shut. "tell me, god, am i dreaming? what the fuck did i just saw?" you sigh, squinting your eyes at your sister's childish like behaviour.

"open your fucking eyes, y/s/n," "is this the devil? is this god? i don't even know anymore! i'm going crazy..." "open your eyes!" you whispered-yell, trying to avoid waking up your grandma ━ even though she is a deep sleeper. "okay, sorry," she finally opens her eyes and stays quiet.

"what were you going to ask me?" "so we are going to ignore what just happened? what i just walked in?" "why do you got to be so nosy?" you ask her and she looked at you, offended. "why? you're pissed off because i happened to walk in while you were trying to kiss the love of your li-" "SHUT!" you cover her mouth. "he's going to hear!"

she is strong enough to take your hand off her mouth, whispering: "i'll leave you alone with him." she smirks and then winks at you, going back to her room. you rolled your eyes once she reached the door of her bedroom and sent you a flying kiss, mouthing: "use protection!"

you went back to your room and closed the door, locking it. you slowly turned around, embarrassed. "good job, y/n! forgetting about the first rule of the hundred of 'sneaking in' rules! 'inside version' because you live here, so-" "shut up," you sigh, laying on bed with him. "yes, ma'am." a minute of silence formed, but riki quickly broke it. "can we cuddle now? i am dying to- uh... cuddle, yeah..." you strange his behaviour but, obviously, agrees.

enjoying being the little spoon, you remained completely silent, loving the way his wide arms were around you and his hands rubbing your back. the warmth exhaling from his covered chest felt like you had the world keeping you close.

"y/n?" his voice echoes and you hum. "mhm?" "do you like... writing letters?"

© 𝓪𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝓮, 𝗺𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗮 𝗌𝓽𝓾𝖽𝗂𝗈𝓼. ⋆

[dukeofankh]

Trying to find progressive masculine community is so exhausting.

I've flipped through local men's groups, trying to find places to explore masculinity in a chill, progressive setting. First of all, they mostly seem to be modelled after AA, and like, my gender isn't a debilitating addiction, it's part of my identity actually, but also, the invite and description of the event have maybe a short paragraph tops actually waving vaguely in the direction of what the purpose of the group is, and then ten to twenty paragraphs breaking down the rules. One spent longer talking about the hand signals he would use to direct conversation than he did describing what the conversation would be about. Another had a full paragraph explaining that if the group thought you were evading what they thought your "real" problem was, they'd probably "call you to take accountability". Like...I don't even know who these people are yet and they're already letting me know that they view it as their right, no, their duty, to bully me into seeing things their way. Like, this is in the invite.

...and this warning is there instead of any sort of breakdown of like, I dunno. Whether you should be a feminist to show up. Whether it was a safe space for queer men. What the hell they wanted to talk about. Joining a men's space is on some level inherently submitting yourself to the authority of the leaders of that group, and you don't usually get a particularly clear breakdown of what the values and goals of those leaders are, because on some level the answer is always going to be "whatever I want"

And like, unfortunately you do need to filter men to build a men's space. You do need to remove or chastise men who act in ways that are toxic or disruptive or misogynistic. If you don't things turn into an MRA chapter pretty quick. But the sort of emergency powers that leadership takes on as a result of that...just kind of naturally end up reproducing masculine heirarchies.

MensLib, the only online community of progressive dudes talking about masculinity that I'm aware of, is...on Reddit. So there is a moderator system. In theory, a moderator is there to...moderate. This is a space where people are going to be talking, and mods are there to make sure things don't get too toxic or off topic.

The issue is that, on some level, that is technically a leadership position. In a sub trying to rehabilitate masculinity. So you've got a bunch of folks who view themselves as the leaders of this bastion of goodness standing against the depredations of the misogynistic internet, guiding the hapless smooth-brain neophytes towards The True Way.

In practice, this looks like 95 percent of the posts submitted for the subreddit being rejected. That isn't hyperbole. On average, the sub has about one new post per day. Almost all posts directly relating a personal experience are deleted immediately, in favour of articles written about masculinity in traditional media publications, which are considered more trustworthy than the sus lived experiences of the guys in the sub. The post I wrote here about the effect of purity culture on male sexual shame that's sitting at about 15K notes was based on a 10K word post I wrote for Reddit that was deleted because "I didn't cite any sources to prove that there is a link between purity culture and male sexual shame, or that my experience was anything more than anecdotal". I get comments deleted on a regular basis, and after paragraphs of protesting in modmail that my comments are both fully in line with feminism and not against the rules, the mods have just finally told me that the rules don't actually drive their actions as a team. They delete anything they feel leads the conversation in a direction they personally feel is unproductive. The rule cited at the time of deletion is really just the broad category of why they decided to hit the button that says nobody is allowed to read what I wrote.

The issue is kind of twofold. First of all, progressive men do not trust other men. A good dude knows that he, individually, is a good person, but literally any other man external to him is on thin ice. Do you really want to tie your wagon to that guy? Do you trust him, really? How do you tell the difference between a guy criticizing an article because it's factually incorrect and criticising it because a woman wrote it? Probably best to play it safe and delete it. Weight of the odds, he's probably a misogynist, right? This is the internet.

And thats the other half of it. If you view yourself as part of the leadership of The Good Guys, and you're getting hatemail from incels and facists all day, you get to the point where most of the time people challenge your authority it's because they're a terrible person. It is very, very easy to get to the point where someone challenging you is seen as evidence that they are a bad person. And now someone is challenging you (and therefore bad), in an environment where you are in charge, and you have a "make your opponent disappear" button.

I know. A Reddit mod was rude to me and now I'm butthurt. It's petty and stupid. I'm just feeling like there's nowhere else to really go, and I'm pretty despondent that literally every space I've seen that even looks like it might be for progressive men has the same deeply hierarchical structure and constant status-oriented squabbling as patriarchal spaces.

[mya-valentine]

Headcanon: Working Closely with Dottore and Pantalone

Working with both Dottore and Pantalone is a constant balancing act. Dottore thrives in the realm of chaos, with his twisted experiments and disregard for ethical boundaries, while Pantalone is the epitome of control and calculated precision. Your role often involves navigating between these two extremes, ensuring that Dottore’s reckless endeavors don’t entirely destroy Pantalone’s well-constructed plans—or his profits.

When working with Dottore, you can never fully predict what kind of experiment or scheme he’ll drag you into. His workspace is full of dangerous contraptions and ominous, mysterious equipment. He treats everything like a puzzle he’s determined to solve, even if it means crossing lines others wouldn’t dare. He might request your assistance in something seemingly innocent, only for it to evolve into a disturbing and twisted experiment.

On the other hand, Pantalone runs things with the precision of a businessman. Every decision is meticulously calculated, and he expects nothing less from those who work closely with him. He’s always thinking several steps ahead, and his projects often revolve around securing wealth and influence for the Fatui. When working with him, you are exposed to high-stakes negotiations, economic manipulation, and subtle power plays.

You often find yourself playing the mediator between Dottore and Pantalone. Dottore’s mad scientist antics sometimes clash with Pantalone’s structured business endeavors. It’s not uncommon for Pantalone to become exasperated by Dottore’s unpredictable actions, and you’re the one who has to smooth things over, explaining Dottore’s reasoning—or lack thereof—while ensuring Pantalone’s operations aren’t compromised.

Joint meetings between the three of you can be tense. Dottore often speaks in vague, almost mocking tones about his experiments, while Pantalone raises a brow, always concerned about how much these ventures will cost the Fatui. You’ll feel the palpable tension as Pantalone tries to rein in Dottore’s more outlandish ideas, but Dottore never gives in easily.

While Dottore can be incredibly intimidating, there’s a certain thrill in working alongside someone as brilliant—and dangerous—as him. He occasionally lets you in on his more technical ideas, expecting you to keep up with his genius. He enjoys showing off his creations and theories, and if you’re able to contribute meaningfully, he’ll regard you with a mix of interest and amusement.

Pantalone, on the other hand, values your ability to manage things with poise. He expects you to understand the broader picture, the economy, and how to influence people subtly. He enjoys teaching you about the intricacies of wealth management and expects you to adopt his same level of attention to detail. If you manage to impress him, he might even offer you a more strategic role in the Fatui’s financial dealings.

Dottore has a twisted sense of humor, and you’ll often find yourself on the receiving end of it. He’ll make cryptic or morbid jokes about his experiments or the people involved, and you’ll need to keep your composure to avoid becoming another one of his “test subjects.” There’s a fine line between working with him and becoming part of his next experiment.

Pantalone, being a man of wealth, spoils those who earn his favor. If you manage to keep things running smoothly between him and Dottore, he will reward you handsomely—whether that’s through financial compensation, gifts, or special privileges. He values competence and loyalty, and he’s more than willing to show his appreciation through luxurious means.

Both Dottore and Pantalone hold significant power within the Fatui, but their power manifests in different ways. Dottore’s influence comes from fear and intellect, while Pantalone’s stems from wealth and control. You’ll need to navigate their distinct power dynamics carefully, knowing that they both have the ability to make or break you in the organization.

Earning trust from either Dottore or Pantalone isn’t easy. Dottore respects intellect and curiosity, while Pantalone values loyalty and efficiency. Over time, you may find yourself in a unique position where you’ve gained the trust of both men, becoming someone they rely on—Dottore for assistance with his experiments and Pantalone for managing the financial and strategic aspects of the Fatui.

Working with them can feel like being part of a dangerously effective machine. Pantalone’s resources fund Dottore’s more elaborate projects, and in return, Dottore’s inventions or discoveries can increase the Fatui’s power.

Working closely with Dottore and Pantalone is a challenging yet intriguing experience, requiring adaptability, wit, and a keen understanding of both chaos and order. It’s a delicate dance between madness and strategy, and if you manage to thrive in such an environment, you’ll earn the respect—and maybe even the protection—of two of the most powerful Harbingers in Teyvat.

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Masterlist