#is it clear i have only seen campaign 2?

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (2)

posted originally on my old account. will be posting twice weekly :)

Amelia Scott-Higgins was a person a lot of people looked up too. The winner of the 2019 Ballon d’Or who was just 21 at the time. She was an inspiration on and off the field, so you can imagine everyone’s shock when she disappeared. Only a few know the gruesome details of her injuries, and those happen to be Barcelona players Lucy Bronze and Keira Walsh. Alexia Putellas had always admired her, as a person and a player. 

“Do you think we could convince her to join us? We need a striker and she is the best!” Jana excitedly said to Alexia, Mapi and Ingrid as they walked into the locker room. 

“No, she was the best. Past tense.” Ingrid said. 

“Ale you could totally convince her! You guys were friends no?” Jana’s words were loud through the quiet locker room. 

“Who are you convincing?” The English accent through the Spanish was still very clear to this day and unmistakably came from Lucy. 

“Amelia Scott-Higgins! She’s living in Barcelona and Ale used to be her friend! We need her Luce!” 

“No. Understand what I am about to say. No one here is to contact Milly and ask her to play. No one is to ask her to come to a game or to hang out. She has been through enough and you will all leave her the hell alone.” Keira spoke extremely firmly. No one has heard her talk like that before. 

“Kei, come on they don’t know.” 

“That’s exactly right Lucy. They don’t know. You all think she’s this amazing footballer and want her to play, but she went through some fucked up shit. She doesn’t want to play, she doesn’t want to watch. She wants to be left alone so that’s exactly what everyone is going to do: leave her alone.” The locker door slammed as Keira left. She would protect Amelia now, since she couldn’t before. 

Before it all happened, Keira, Leah and Amelia were inseparable. The group was formed at a football event the first year Amelia moved over to the UK, in 2014, at just 16 years old. Emily played with Man City, alongside Keira, Lucy and Georgia. Despite playing at different clubs, they always made time for each other. The unlikely friendship with Alexia Putellas started in 2017, after both signing with Nike and having to do a campaign. Both girls were socially awkward, they sat in silence for most the day until Alexia invited Amelia to dinner. From there on out, they were very close friends. 

Alexia struggled with the fame, Amelia did not. She was able to offer advice to Alexia, sharing ways to keep relationships private, or how to compartmentalise. Alexia didn’t even get a text off of Amelia when it all happened. She had flown to England to attend the funeral. A numb, bruised and bandaged shell of a friend stood before them all. 

“You knew Amelia?” Olga asked quietly over dinner the night after their run in. 

“Yeah. I knew both Amelia and Emily.” The sadness evident in Alexia’s voice. 

“Why’d she quit? I googled her. She won the Ballon d’Or and UEFAs best player. What happened?” 

“Her wife was murdered and she was hurt. I don’t even think I can begin to explain the type of player she was. She was easily the best player the world has ever seen. No matter what, she worked hard. She cared, if a person got hurt you’d know because Amelia was there first. After her opponents lost, she wouldn’t celebrate her win, she’d go around and tell them everything they did well, hug them and let them cry. I went to the funeral, she was just a shell. Covered in bruises and bandages, in a wheelchair. Then she just vanished. On the first anniversary of Emily’s death, she deleted every single social media she had, changed her number and quit football. I hadnt seen her since, apparently Keira and Lucy hadn’t either.” 

“that’s a lot for one person to go through. Where are her parents?” 

“Doesn’t have any. They died when she was little, from what she shared she was in foster care in Australia until they let her come to the UK”

“Maybe you should invite her for dinner? She could use a friend.”

“No. YOU should invite her. You’re someone who she doesn’t know and you two seemed to hit it off.” 

Olga didn’t tell Alexia, or anyone for that matter, but Amelia had followed her on instagram that night after they met. Seemingly on a private, almost anonymous account. Olga had no plans to force Amelia back into football or back into Alexia’s life, but the more she learnt the more she wanted to ensure she wasn’t alone in this world. 

Every morning, Alexia would run along the beach. It was usually quiet and calm since Spain generally didn’t wake up until later in the morning. Every morning, she would watch the same surfer. Scars scattered on her legs, one long scar from the back of her hip, across her torso. Alexia knew it was Amelia, but she never stopped to say hello, not until that morning. 

The morning that would change things. 

[madridfangirl]

Making up after a fight - Jude Bellingham blurb

A/n - fluff, angst, comfort, suggestive

900 words. Jude*female reader.

……………………………………………………………………

‘You were amazing today. Congrats on the MOTM, so well deserved!’

You hit send, hoping for a response. You were supposed to be at the match, supporting him. But the two of you had gotten into an ugly fight just this morning. Which, in hindsight, was kinda your fault. But, hindsight is a bitch and you were downright furious in the morning.

A particular reel on your insta feed, of Jude with an upcoming Spanish actress, is what you had woken up to. The woman was gorgeous, and way too obvious with Jude - the hair flicks, side eyes, giggles, touching the arm for that extra second, all straight out of the playbook.

The hug though is what enraged you the most. Coz Jude had also wrapped both arms around her, not the typical one arm shoulder hug thing he usually did with other women. That, combined with the fact that Jude liked the pics she posted of the meeting made you blow your top.

To be fair, you had tried to avoid the fight before an important CL match, the first home KO match in-fact. But Jude had gotten impatient with your radio silence, pestered you for a call and then you couldn’t hold back.

He tried to explain that she was working on a social media campaign for RM, and other players had liked the post too. But you had shot back saying that was no reason for him to let that woman feel him up.

Jude was frustrated, and lost his cool too. This was not a new fight. You two had been here way too many times. Usually he was patient, knowing that his lifestyle was not ideal for a new relationship, but the timing of it, right before one of the most crucial matches of his career, is what irked him.

So yeah, it ended up with you not attending the match. Not even sending him a good luck message before the match, something you had never missed in the last 4 months since your first date. To top it off, you even used a nuclear weapon that you knew would set him off. By mentioning a colleague of yours who Jude hated with all the bones in his body.

It was only when you saw another angle of the video (taken on phone by other attendees) that you realised you had overreacted. The woman was still pathetic but Jude did pull back immediately from the hug, and maintained his distance. But, it was too late by then and the match had already started.

‘I am so proud of you, Jude.’

You were still on texts. Fully aware that if you call and he disconnects / doesn’t pick up, it will hurt you & your ego both.

The messages were seen. No response. It was now 1.5 hours after the match. He would be home already or on the way.

‘Wish I had been there, instead of moping all day.’

‘Why? That fucker wasn’t good company?’

Well at-least that was a response. At least.

‘Jude, I didn’t go. I wouldn’t. You know that.’

‘You had no problem throwing that in my face though.’

He was right, you could see that. It really was a low & petty blow. If only you were as clear headed in the morning.

‘I am sorry, baby. For that & everything else today. For assuming all those things without hearing you out. Really, I am.’

No response for 2 minutes, which made her anxious.

‘Don’t think I am cheating, then? Don’t think I am going to her right now or went to her last night?’

He was goading her, she could tell. But he was hurting too, that also she could tell.

‘No, I don’t.’

‘Why the change of heart, when you were so convinced earlier?’

He wasn’t gonna make it easy for her.

‘Is that important? Look, I know I messed up. I know I ruined what could have been a great day for us. You really should be celebrating right now instead of feeling shitty. And I really really am sorry, Jude. Pls can we just get over this?’

A pregnant pause, again.

She doubled down with another nuclear weapon in her kitty.

‘I love you. So much it hurts. Yes I do get crazy sometimes but you know, in your heart you know where it’s coming from.’

If this doesn’t work, she won’t know what else to do.

1 minute later, her phone flashed.

‘I needed you today.’

She clutched the phone to her chest, sighing deeply, sensing his resignation.

‘I know, honey. Promise I will be there for the next big game. And whenever else you need me.’

‘It was so shitty to play like this. Not knowing where we stand. Not knowing if you were anywhere near that asshole. Might have tackled some of the guys extra hard today.’

‘Again, I am so so sorry. But I am also super proud that despite all this you still came out on top. Like you always do.’

Jude read and re-read the text a few times, sat in his car. She always knew what she was doing so this couldn’t just be a coincidence.

‘Tryna tempt me?’

‘Depends - is it working?’

‘Be careful what you wish for, doll. I don’t have a handle on myself today.’

‘Wanna come here & show me what that’s like?’

‘Gonna ask one more time - are you sure?’

‘Uh-huh. I do deserve some disciplining today, don’t you think?’

‘I’ll be there in 20. And doll, you may have to take an off tmrw.’

……………………………………………

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 12

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

It’s just a bluff, one you’ve perfected over the years. You’ve pulled this trick countless times, especially when someone refuses to give you the information you need. Most crack under the pressure, some get nervous and spill their secrets, just as you want.

But a few? A few see right through you.

And Bucky? He was one of those.

He scoffed, leaning back with that infuriating smirk. "I like this mind game."

You sighed inwardly, knowing you’d lost this round. He wasn't going to give anything up.

The tension hung thick in the air until the bathroom door creaked open, and Nate emerged, oblivious to the storm brewing between you and his uncle. Spotting his small luggage by the counter, he beamed, zipping it open to grab a change of clothes and, of course, his stash of snacks.

With his arms full, Nate wandered over to the both of you and handed each a snack—his favorite, the snack he wasn’t allowed to have at home. His parents and Hazel were strict about it, but he knew he could get away with it here, as long as he shared. This was his little bribe.

"This is my favorite," he said, grinning up at you both.

You couldn’t resist. You pulled him into a tight hug, squeezing him gently. “Why are you so damn cute?”

Bucky, knowing exactly how strict Hazel and his parents were about junk food, raised an eyebrow. "Where did you get this? Did you ask the nanny?"

Nate shook his head, completely unfazed. "No. Uncle Steve gave it to me."

That name. The second Nate said it, it felt like an ice-cold bucket had been dumped over your head. You looked at Bucky, and his face tightened. His reaction told you everything—you weren't the only one feeling uneasy.

Something was going on, and Steve’s name was right in the middle of it.

You cleared your throat, determined to break the lingering awkwardness. “Let’s have lunch first. After that, what do you want to do next?”

Nate's eyes widened, his face lighting up with excitement as he turned to look at the spacious living room and the big TV. “Can we watch movies after lunch? Then take a nap together on that big couch?”

He’d seen that in a movie. With his grandparents, he could never relax like that, but he knew his uncles were much more laid-back. He wants to fall asleep while watching his favorite cartoon, being close to his uncle and aunt.

“Sure.” You patted his head gently, feeling a warmth spread through you. Besides, it had been ages since you’d enjoyed a good nap. It felt like a luxury for adults these days.

Lunch turned into a delightful moment of relaxation as the three of you settled around the table. Nate's innocent chatter filled the air, weaving a lightness into the atmosphere that slowly pushed away the tension between you and Bucky. Nate asked questions about everything under the sun—his eyes sparkling with curiosity as he talked about his favorite cartoons and the superheroes he admired.

After lunch, the three of you cozied up on the couch to watch a cartoon movie together. Nate nestled himself right in the middle, sprawled across both of you, laughter echoing through the room.

Within forty minutes, however, the excitement wore him out. He fell asleep, his head resting against your right arm. You smiled, reaching over to gently cup his cheek with your hand. “How did he get such a bubbly personality, considering the Barnes don’t seem to have it?” you mused aloud.

Bucky glanced at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “He’s different, isn’t he?” He reached over to place a soft pillow under Nate’s head, ensuring he was comfortable.

“Maybe my parents realized how strict they were raising me, Shawn, and Hazel. When Nate was born, I was surprised by how much gentler they are with him,” Bucky added, his voice softer, as if reflecting on the changes in his family.

“Do you think Steve has a bright character too? I wonder,” you said, still watching the peaceful expression on Nate's face.

Bucky’s smile faded, replaced by a more serious demeanor. “Why do you have to ruin this moment, my love?” he teased lightly before standing up and walking toward the balcony door. He opened it and stepped outside, lighting a cigarette.

You were surprised to see Bucky smoking; he hadn’t done that since you arrived. You knew he wasn’t a regular smoker, but sometimes the stress got to him.

You followed him outside, the cool breeze washing over you as you stepped onto the balcony. Bucky turned to face you, resting his back against the railing. His head tilted back, looking up at the sky as he released a plume of smoke from his lips.

“There’s a difference between me and Steve,” Bucky said, his voice steady yet reflective. “I got into this because of connections.” He paused, knowing that his privileged background played a significant role in his current position. “While Steve? He started from the military. He had no backup. He had real ambitions.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his tone cutting through the tension like a blade. "You see me as a manipulative person," he said, flicking the ash from his cigarette. "But you have no idea how manipulative Steve is."

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Steve. The insinuation sent a chill down your spine, and you straightened your posture, folding your arms tightly across your chest. You weren't sure if Bucky was trying to manipulate you again or if he was genuinely warning you about something darker. Either way, the unease crept in.

Bucky’s gaze lingered on you. “If you knew… compared to him, you’d think of me as an angel.”

You raised an eyebrow, your skepticism clear. “That’s hard to believe.”

A humorless smile tugged at Bucky’s lips. “He's a man of plans. If you and I think two steps ahead, Steve’s already thought 100 steps ahead.”

You let out a slow, steady breath, the weight of his words pressing against your chest. “That doesn't excuse what you've done,” you replied, your voice low but firm. “You’re still responsible for dragging me into this.”

Bucky's smirk returned, but this time it held something deeper—almost regretful. “You might think I brought you here just for my own selfishness, but it's also for your protection.”

You blinked, the words hitting you like a slap. “You? Protect me? That’s a joke.” You couldn’t help the bitterness that slipped into your tone. The idea that he’d done anything selfless seemed ridiculous.

Bucky's smirk deepened, almost daring you to challenge him. “Like I said before—you can hate me, stab me, poison me. I’ll take it. But you need to know, I won’t let you get hurt.”

The conviction in his voice sent a tremor through you, but you masked it with a sharp exhale. “Who wants to hurt me?”

Bucky's expression shifted, something darker brewing in his eyes. “You can figure out the truth about Nate. I’m sure you can connect the dots.”

You felt your stomach drop as your thoughts raced. Could he be implying…? No, it couldn’t be. But then again, there were too many unanswered questions. “Is this about the election? And Steve?”

Bucky took a long drag from his cigarette before answering, the smoke swirling in the cool air. “You were walking through a minefield, and I got you out before you stepped on something that could blow your life apart.”

His words struck hard, and you bit your lip, turning over the recent jobs you’d taken. None of them seemed directly linked to the election, but you were a journalist with many connections, many stories—maybe one of them had crossed the wrong lines without you realizing it.

“This… this just makes me wonder even more why you chose to support Steve,” you said, a bitter edge creeping into your voice.

Bucky stubbed out his cigarette against the balcony railing. “His leadership fits this country. You can disagree with that all you want. But Steve… Steve loves this country.”

You frowned, your mind spinning. Could that really be it? Could Bucky, despite all the manipulations and half-truths, genuinely believe Steve was the right person to lead? Or was this yet another layer of the twisted game they were all playing?

Bucky’s gaze softened slightly as he glanced at Nate through the glass door, the boy still soundly asleep on the couch.

“About Nate…” Bucky hesitated for a moment, and you could sense the weight of the words he was about to speak.

Your pulse quickened, your eyes narrowing as you waited for him to continue.

“I won’t add more to what you already know,” he finally said, his voice heavy with the promise. “Because I made a vow—I’ll take the truth about Nate and Hazel to my grave.”

The room seemed to tilt slightly, and a cold realization settled over you. Whatever secret Bucky was keeping, it was bigger than you’d thought. And it wasn’t just about the election… it was about Nate and Hazel.

“So, I should be grateful that you dragged me out of a minefield?” You raised an eyebrow, the skepticism clear in your voice. “I’m not even sure it exists.”

Bucky met your gaze, unflinching. “Why do you think I’ve supported the independent company where you work?” His tone was steady, calm. “I could’ve ruined it. Could’ve made it go bankrupt, easily.”

Your fists clenched at your sides, heat rising in your chest. His words stung, even though he wasn’t saying them with any malice. Still, you couldn’t help the tension building inside you.

But then his voice softened, the intensity in his blue eyes never wavering. “You probably didn’t realize it,” Bucky continued, “but you’ve already passed through a minefield that could’ve ruined Steve.”

Your breath caught for a moment. Wait. Does that mean he sees me as a threat? The thought swirled in your mind, unsettling you. Was that why Bucky had been hovering around, keeping a close watch?

The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thick with the weight of unspoken truths. You searched Bucky’s face, trying to read between the lines. But there was no malice, no manipulation there—just something deeper, something protective.

“What are you trying to say?” you asked, your voice quieter now, a mix of confusion and frustration.

Bucky’s eyes softened. “I’m not here to control you. I just… don’t want you to get caught in the crossfire of something bigger than either of us.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, the tension still lingering, but his words had shifted something inside you.

"Crossfire?" you scoffed, shaking your head. "It’s ironic, isn’t it? We can talk about other people, stay calm. But when it’s about us? All we ever do is argue."

Bucky’s jaw tightened at your words. She’s right, he thought, his heart aching with guilt. It’s always a fight when it comes to us.

He wanted to say something to ease the tension, but every word seemed wrong. He watched you—how your arms crossed defensively, how tired your eyes looked. Not angry, just… tired of it all.

“I know,” Bucky finally admitted, his voice rough with regret. “I’m the one who keeps messing this up. I keep dragging us into this same damn fight.”

You didn’t blink, didn’t soften. You were too worn down by it all. "Then why keep doing it?" you asked, voice tinged with exhaustion. "Why keep playing these games, Bucky? I’m tired. I’m so tired of being caught in your manipulation. It’s like… you don’t even care what it does to me."

Bucky winced at the rawness in your words, the reality of it hitting him hard. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his mistakes like never before. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he said quietly, his gaze dropping. “I know it looks like that, but… I never meant for it to be this way. I did it because I was scared.”

Your heart clenched at the confession, but the exhaustion was still there, weighing you down. “Scared of what? Of just talking to me? Of being honest?”

Bucky shook his head, stepping closer, his hand twitching like he wanted to reach for you but unsure if he could. “I was scared of losing you again,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “I did everything I could to keep you here, to keep you close. But I know I went about it all wrong. I twisted things, manipulated situations, because I thought it was the only way.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening as his words sunk in. He wasn’t trying to push you away—he was clinging to you, so tightly that it hurt.

“You have no idea what that feels like, Bucky,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “To be pulled into your games, not knowing why, thinking I don’t matter to you. It’s exhausting.”

Bucky’s face fell, the guilt in his eyes unmistakable. “I know. And I hate that I did that to you,” he said softly. “I hate myself for it. But it wasn’t because I didn’t care. It’s because I care too much, and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You could see the truth in his eyes now, the desperation behind his actions. It didn’t erase the pain, but it explained it.

“I was afraid that if I didn’t do everything I could, you’d leave me again,” Bucky continued, his voice shaky. “And I couldn’t take that. Not again. I know I’ve been manipulative, and I know I’ve hurt you because of it. But I was doing it to keep you close… not to push you away. I’m sorry.”

Your throat tightened, the weight of his confession settling in. You hated what he had done, but you could finally see where it came from—fear, desperation, and a love so deep he didn’t know how to control it.

Bucky stepped closer again, this time more confident. “I’ll stop,” he said, voice steady but full of regret. “I’ll stop with the manipulation, with the games. You deserve so much better than that. You deserve better than me, but I’m not giving up. I’ll make things right if you let me.”

You didn’t answer right away, the ache of everything still too fresh. But before you could respond, Bucky took a step back, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and fear.

“I don’t want to lose you again,” Bucky whispered, his voice barely audible. “But I’ll understand if I already have.”

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[meanbossart]

im so curious-- how well does DUDrow get on with the other companions? I've only seen your art and going off that I feel like: he gets along with Shadowheart, Gale I think he borderline cant stand, and Wyll/Lae'zel/Karlach I have no idea how he'd feel about them but id love to know!

So, funfact, because I was not familiar with these kinds of games at the time I played BG3, I practically stuck with the same exact party the entire playthrough. I distinctly remember swapping Wyll in for Astarion once at the end of act 2 because I thought he NEEDED to be there to find Mizora, and I replaced Gale with Karlach when I went to kill Gortash. Otherwise... It was pretty much always just DU drow, Shadowheart, Astarion and Gale. I did this because they were the characters I liked most, so I wanted to see all they had to offer.

Anyways, I mention this because it reflects how DU drow related to everyone - which is to say that he didn't. He picked his favorites (two because he liked them, one because he has fireball) and didn't get particularly close to anyone else.

BUT, there were definitely notable dynamics!

Lae'zel: She's dead. He killed her night 3 or something. Before that he thought her annoyingly demanding and over the top. I don't think DU drow even remembers her by the end of the game.

Gale: Just to add to your original observation, Gale and DU drow have a little bit of history. Gale tries, for about half of the campaign, to pursue him romantically. DU drow keeps turning him down and is either misinterpreted or ignored, and by the time Gale does give up on him their relationship has completely soured to the point where they are constantly shooting daggers at each other. (this reflects a romance bug I got in my first run, except I didn't realize it was a bug. Either way I think its more interesting storytelling than the intended experience.)

Wyll: DU drow was profoundly frustrated by Wyll every step of the way. He found him to be incredibly naive and a bit delusional in his pursuit for heroism, and could never relate to Wyll's perspective or choices - the few he made for himself, at least. They definitely had the least in common and DU drow avoided interacting with him most of the time.

Halsin: He didn't care for Halsin much. He was vaguely helpful but by the time they got to the shadow-cursed lands DU drow had the impression he'd only been dragged here to help him clear his conscience, which he didn't appreciate. Also, he couldn't bear to have someone in camp be taller than himself. Halsin was left behind in Act 2.

Jaheira: DU drow fucking loves Jaheira. They bickered and borderline insulted each other and had a great time doing it. He can respect anyone who will call him a monster, threaten to murder him in his sleep, and make light fun at him the next day. It helps that she's hot, also.

Minsc: Weird hamster man. Ocasionally rendered him speechless. Puzzling human being.

Karlach: He didn't get Karlach, but he was often amused by her and curious enough to want to hear what she had to say. There was a similar issue here as Wyll's where he just couldn't relate to her enough to have much to discuss, but Karlach at least had an edge to her that made her far better company. They got along pretty well when the topic wasn't serious, but when it came to the problems she actually faced their perspectives shifted significantly. DU drow thought everything could be fixed, that accepting her own demise was a cowardly thing to do - and as they approached the end, and she asked him if he would stay with her when she died, he thought she was weak. I don't know if he ever discusses it with anyone, but he feels guilty about her death to this day and sees it as personal failure.

[darknessisafriend]

Oooh, 2) would be right on point for Commodus in a way...but 18) would be also very interesting, in an ancient setting of course.

Here you go! As you will notice I got a bit carried away, I got insipired and defined a nice setting for this smut! I hope you will enjoy it, do not hesistate to comment ^^ For logistical reasons, historic accuracy, it won’t happen in a bathroom because there were no bathrooms, and the public latrines are not possible either in that context, but the tavern is there as well as the rest 😉

                                           The disappointing son , Commodus x Reader

Roman itinerary camp, back from a military campaign in the north, heading back home, to Rome

“Do you think Commodus will share a drink with us tonight too?” spoke a centurion, ruffling his own damp hair after removing his helmet, sitting down at a table with his fellows.

“Quite sure yes, he likes being with us.” Replied one of his companions joyfully; felt nice to have those from above by their side.

“He doesn’t like just to be with us. He comes for her too.” Commented the third man, a lieutenant eating bread and goat cheese, pointing with his fingers full of food towards a waitress. You, dress in Gaelic dress but without any of your cultural jewels that had been taken away. “Since she arrived in the camp, he comes here. I don’t think it’s just a coincidence.”

“Why would he come for a slave? Sure, he could find more refined whores. Leave us that one.” Commented the other, looking at you hungrily.

“No, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. The governor Durocortorum offered slaves to the imperial family; the son chose her. Why do you think she remains untouched while being all day among us? No one wants Commodus to slit our throats.” Grinned the first one, passing finger on his jugular.

“And you know what else I think? I think that from the start she got her eyes on him, I saw the way she looks at him. A man told me once, the power of a man is in his fist but the one of a woman is between her thighs!”

“CENTURIONS, SOLDIERS SALUTE!” announced a general entering the tavern, making everyone stand at attention “His imperial highness Commodus grants us his company again tonight! Do not bring me shame.” He spoke as Commodus entered, he didn’t wear any armor, only his imperial tunic, a dagger sheathed around his hips. He entered with a smile, his eyes scanning the tent and instantly landing on you.

“See? Told you…” whispered the soldier to his comrades, thankfully not heard by the heir of Marcus Aurelius.

“Rest at ease my friends! Once again, enjoy the victory we inflicted to our enemies and celebrate on all our way back to Rome!” he said, making everyone cheer and go back to their business. He greeted a few officers and generals. Commodus did not notice that you had briefly exited the tent to look at yourself on a bronze plate, making sure you looked good enough. You were determined to get Commodus, at first it had only been because you wanted to escape that old pervert governor. And ensure some physical safety, food and a roof over your head with someone of the imperial family, you had seen an immense opportunity for power.

But then you sighed, annoyed as you fixed your hair. You were developing interest into that young man, he turned out not being stupid, nor cruel to you. In fact, he was rather nice to talk to and treated you with more respect than you ever got. If you fell for him, you would let him do whatever he wanted of you, and you didn’t want that, you wanted enough power to gain freedom. “I have to keep a clear mind...” you murmured to yourself, easier said than done. You went back inside the tent right in time as his gaze had grown almost worried, he was looking for you.

“Oh! Y/N! come here!” he called almost too joyfully. Was he already drunk? You thought as you bowed your head at him and approached. He sat at a table by himself, but close to the table of the gossiping centurions.

“Your highness.” You greeted him since he had pretty much allowed you to address him from the first moment. “What shall I serve you?” you asked with a pretty smile.

“From you, I would accept anything, and it would taste divine.” He flirted with a candid smile, his eyes shining, he kind of looked foolish you thought. He was a prince, surely, he had all women at his feet. Still, it didn’t prevent you from blushing.

“Then, I shall serve you posca freshly brewed. We have warm bread and goat cheese. We also have roasted boar tonight.” You suggested holding your wooden tray against your chest, he really had charm despite the absurdity of the situation.

“Then so be it Y/N.” he beamed and before you left to get his order, he caught your hand “Oh and take whatever you desire for yourself. I wish for you to join my table tonight.” He spoke, letting go of your hand. You looked at him with wide eyes, had you heard correctly!? The men nearby had stopped chatting, trying to watch the scene.

“Thank you, your highness. But forgive me, are you sure? Don’t mistaken my words I would be very pleased.” you questioned, you knew that questioning his invitation was an insult to his superior status, but his request was…

His eyes darkened briefly, throwing a look at the soldiers that were too curious “Yes, I am extremely sure.” Then he laughed, focusing on you again “Are you worried I might run into trouble?” he cooed, finding it adorable “The men here are also loyal to me, they won’t speak of it. And if for some reason my father finds out…it will just earn me a lecture about virtue. I can survive.” He winked at you, making your cheeks burn. If there was something you liked in a man was confidence and power. He was terrifying already and could only imagine what it would become once he reached the throne.

“I am reassured. Thank you, highness.” You replied sweetly, your smile more natural this time, you didn’t keep your head clear for long. You went to the kitchen to collect his order, feeling the look of men on you, intrigued, amazed, some whispering about the scandal of the prince seducing you so openly. You couldn’t help but chuckle, he was courageous…you decided to steal a look at him as the cook cut pieces of meat for Commodus and you. The prince was handsome, you saw the resemblance with his father, yet he had the air of a fox. He always seemed like he was amusing himself with his eyes shining mischievously, with that little grin…it made your gaze stop on lips, you found them very attractive, especially that hale lip, it made him even more special.

“Hey I’m talking to you! It’s not because the prince is getting you a meal that you have to slack off.” Scolded you the cook, bringing you back to reality. You quickly nodded, putting everything on the tray, adding some fresh fruits since you didn’t have the luxury to eat some every week. You hurried back to the young prince, muttering an insult in your native tongue towards the cook. Commodus’ eyes followed your every movement, almost as if he was devouring you with his gaze.

He made you sit in front of him, setting a plate for you as well since you didn’t quite dare to do it yourself. In any case, you also knew that the image of Commodus doing this for you was a terrible advantage.

“Allow me.” You spoke, taking the wine and serving him first, generously, for you a little for now. If you got him drunk, you thought, you would get his true intentions with you. Or perhaps you could convince him to take you closer to him. The prince smiled and the two of you started eating; you did your best to eat correctly, not showing you were famished and answering his questions.

Commodus was genuinely interested into you, wanting to know about your family, where you grew up, what you enjoyed doing in your free time…well before you got turned into a slave by a Germanic clan.  Turns out you were enjoying once again talking with him, drinking wine alongside him, giggling as he joked or as he told you about his life in Rome, it made you marvel.

“I do love your accent...” he complimented at some point, loving the rawness of it, the way you didn’t roll the ‘r’ like romans did. You felt your cheeks burn at the praise, briefly pinching your lis together. You wanted to compliment him back but you didn’t dare, not in public.

“How much longer until we reach Rome?” you asked him curiously, refilling both your glasses once again, your cheeks were burning from alcohol as well, and your minds not as clear as before, you were simply enjoying that moment with him.

“We have about two more weeks travel if the weather conditions are good. Are you tired of traveling already? Or is it the company of so many soldiers? Are they bothering you?” replied Commodus, clearly, he enjoyed chatting.

“I am a woman of the city, highness. I’m used to a certain comfort, that until the barbarians invaded my town and sold me to another clan which then gifted me to you.” You listed bitterly, you had suffered greatly as a woman and you’d rather not think about it. “None of them were tender to me. You are the first one to consider me human…you will understand naturally that I’m not comfortable around so many warriors even if those didn’t bother me. I suspect it is thanks to you.” You explained to him as he drank posca, the disadvantage was that such cheap drink got you drunk pretty fast, especially if you were not used to it. Commodus was used to only savoring expensive red wines. The cheerful smile he had briefly faded, his eyes detailed you, he understood and seemed almost angry.

“Believe me or not, I am not fond of trading women and children in war. They are the shield, and we are the sword; treat a shield poorly and the sword won’t be of help for long.” He simply replied and looked around. The moment he did so everyone looked away, making him grin and leaned closer to you to whisper “I shall hope they remain afraid for long. I don’t want them to touch you.” He clearly said, making your heart skip a beat.

“Would that bother you so much?” you asked in an equally low tone; there he was talking. You couldn’t help but feel flattered, wanting to have his protection. His eyes detailed your face, briefly gazing at your mouth.

“Immensely. I would probably kill them.” He breathed, his hand squeezing his cup of wine, he could almost deform it. You smiled genuinely, loving those words that almost sounded like a promise.

“That would be hard to do if I you are in your palace in Rome and I…among the soldiers.”

“Who said you would remain with them? I chose you, you are mine Y/N. And I shall keep you close enough.” He retorted possessively before looking around “How about I take you away now? I’m tired of the way they look at you, us. Don’t you?” He suggested, a playful glow in his eyes. Clearly Commodus enjoyed going against the wind. You detailed him, trying to retain a grin. After all, why not? you already imagined yourself in his possession, even more untouchable by others.

“What would that imply Commodus?” you purred, your foot under the table going to brush along his leg. He shifted in his seat, reacting instantly, licking his lips in anticipation. You had gone so bold after a few drinks and Commodus couldn’t hide his emotions that well anymore.

“Anything you could desire. Much better wine and food…a warm bed, my bed.” He replied, his eyes growing dark with desire. His hand reaching for yours, his fingers brushing over the back of your hand.

“I hope that includes you inside then.” You replied, your pulse wild, warmth spreading from your lower belly down to between your legs. His answer was a giggle and a boyish smile, he was extremely happy with your words, seems like you were indeed a big crush for him. You were glad to think the same, now dreaming of that prince being yours, your body covered in jewels as you walked by his arm, watching him rule the biggest empire in the world. The both of you were so caught in your drunk state, dreaming; you had forgotten the world around you, the gazes and chatter of people.

Commodus stood up, offering you his hand, which you accepted. He wanted to lead you through the main entrance of the cantina, proud of himself to have gotten a lady for himself but a little voice in your head seemed to have some reason. Your little adventure could stop very shortly if his father caught you. So, you pulled him back before he could cross the entrance, making him slightly lose his balance and catching himself up in your arms.

“What?” he laughed, his hands caressing your waist, leaning forward to capture your lips for a kiss.

“I know another way…much more fun.” You replied close to his lips but not kissing, his drunkenness made that he couldn’t listen and do something else at the same time.

“Lead the way love…” he breathed excitedly and following you through the tent, then the kitchen area, here was a smaller exit for the servants and cooks. The fresh wind hit your face as you made it outside, the both of you were still mostly hidden as this exit was surrounded by barrels of posca, crates of cured meats and fruits.

You gasped as you felt arms wrap around your waist “Got you…” breathed Commodus against your ear, smiling. You felt goosebumps grow all over your skin, your arousal too. His warm breath was tickling your skin, his scent intoxicating, he smelled so good…you wanted to taste wine on his tongue.

“You know what? Fuck it…!” you exclaimed, turning around and grabbing his face for a strong kiss. He gasped against your lips, his back crashing against crates as he pressed you against him. You closed your eyes, opening your mouth to let his tongue in; that posca tasted so much better on him, his tongue so soft against yours. He moaned as your hand went to his neck, caressing his skin, discovering his sensitive points. By the Gods, you wanted to discover them all, find out what made him ache, beg you for more, the prince begging a slave for more, what a sweet idea.

“Y/N..” he breathed, his hands caressing your lower back and down to your butt, squeezing it between his hands “I want you.” He said with a smile, giggling, so glad to be able to say it aloud. You shared his amusement, filling his lips with more sensual kisses.

“I’m all yours Commodus…” you breathed against his lips, taking his hand and guiding it to your breast, exhaling and biting your lower lip, loving it as his hand groped it. He looked at your breast hungrily to the point he ended up burying his head between your tits, kissing your chest while softly moaning, inhaling your scent, enjoying that body that begged him to be taken.

Your own hand traveled down his belly; those damn imperial clothes were hard to undo. But you found your way under his tunic, pressing against his braccae, a Celtic pants the romans had adopted.  You licked his lips as you felt his erection “I like what I feel…is this for me?” you flirted playfully.

“Ah…all…only for you my lady…” he panted, letting out soft moans as you stroke him slowly above his pants.

“My lady? I like this!” the both of you laughed between kisses, caressing each other’s parts, discovering the other’s body. Your moans were thankfully concealed by the chatter inside the tent, you could let it out freely. Your legs quivering as he inserted his fingers inside you, then out, sliding along your slit.

“You are so wet for me…I am so honored...” he breathed, retracting his fingers and bringing it to his mouth, tasting you, closing his eyes as he did so. You were amazed, he was the opposite of romans as you knew them, he cared about female pleasure and didn’t find it repulsive.

“Then get inside me Commodus…please.” You breathed excitedly, turning around and bending over a barrel, lifting your dress to expose your backside. The prince glanced at your body; never he had such an exquisite view, he could see it all, your round ass, your glistening pussy desperately waiting for him. He bit his lower lip, caressing your ass, squeezing it between his hands. But then he glanced at you, he couldn’t see your face and that he didn’t like. He suddenly got taken by total romantism, he was a romantic, but the society saw that badly for a man, even more with a woman of a lower status.

“Not like this Y/N. Turn around.” He asked tenderly, grabbing your waist to help you since your balance was lacking “I want to look at you. See you as I give you pleasure.” He breathed, kissing you again, your kisses wet, getting terribly needy. He was the first to want you that way, it made you fall even harder for him.

You nodded against his lips and gasped when he grabbed you by the back of your thighs lifting you up “Commodus what are y-…!” you exclaimed as he lost balance, and the both of you fell on the ground, Commodus hitting his head against a crate but he was actually so drunk he didn’t feel any of it, laughing loudly. “Ouch.” He giggled as he pinched your butt.

“You…!” You wanted to protest to his unconscious actions, but you were distracted by the prince, parting your thighs, grinning. The rascal hadn’t lost his objective. You smiled and grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him for a messy kiss as he penetrated you. Your moan was muffled against his lips, your legs parting even more for him, your hands gripping his tunic.

What followed as a messy, rough and clumsy lovemaking. Both you and Commodus were letting out noises without restraint, to the point that this time your activity could be noticed.

“Commodus!” You loudly called his name, your breast bouncing under his hard thrusts, encouraging him to go harder inside you, not noticing that the cantina had gone quite, perhaps listening. Your thighs were bruising by how much he was gripping you, his clothes screwed, his hair ruffled and lips swollen red by how much you kissed. His thrusts were fast and strong at first but the both of you were quickly breathless, alcohol making you last less. Naturally you reached climax quickly, your legs shaking, you back arching as you felt his warm seed spill inside you. Soon, Commodus slowed down, his kisses becoming sloppier until he stopped, slowly collapsing on you, his head buried in your neck, snuggling into your embrace as you hugged him, breathless.

“I can’t wait til we do more…I want to do more Y/N…” he breathed, his voice tired, he was surely growing sleepy.

“Me too…please Commodus, don’t leave me now that you have me.” You murmured, kissing his damp hair.

“I won’t.” he mumbled sleepily. Your eyelids were heavy too, you wanted to sleep there…in his arms, safe.

“Commodus…he is going to know...he is going to find us…” the alcohol was slightly going away from your body, making you anxious. If you were seen like this, you would be treated as a whore, thrown to soldiers, or sentenced to death for making a fool of Commodus who exposed himself publicly like a drunk commoner, fucking under the nose of all. Ridicule, worthless to the eyes of his father.

“Let him find us. Won’t let him do a thing. I am his only heir, he will comply.” He groaned and with difficulty tried to stand up “But first, let’s go to my tent, you deserve a good rest in my bed. With me.” He said, his eyes were still cloudy and his balance uncertain as he extended his hand to you.

Thank you for reading and please don't hesistate to leave a comment, it makes me really happy <3

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[utilitycaster]

I love the current discourse because a "woman with a crippling traumatic pasts, gets help of her party to heal from it and spends the rest of her life living a simple quiet life with her lesbian partner" is not the problem, and it has been done before in CR, it's Yasha

If you think about it, Laudna and Yasha's characters mirror each other in more ways than just a monochromatic palette, but one wound up being more interesting and earned her epilogue better and it's not the one that was present for all 100+ episodes of her respective campaign

Yeah; this has come up a TON but like. I have watched/listened to all or part of the following actual play series:

Critical Role (almost everything barring a few one shots, mostly from C1-era)

TAZ (afaik everything except a couple of the most recent episodes)

NADDPod (everything)

RQG (only main campaign and main-campaign canon sidequests, not one-shots, but I listened to all of that)

Relics and Rarities (all)

D20 (most)

Desiquest (first 2 episodes)

Into the Motherlands (first 2 seasons)

Burnt Cookbook Party (haven't listened the last few months for life reasons but intend to catch up, was otherwise caught up)

WBN (first 3 arcs, intend to catch up)

I also am a regular listener to NADDPod and Critical Role's talkback shows. I've been a regular DM since 2020 and had DM-ed one shots prior; I've been playing D&D and occasional other TTRPGs since 2016. I've read a number of articles on the topics of actual play as a form and TTRPGs and discuss it with friends. I'm saying all of this to make it clear: people can tell themselves that I'm stupid and uninformed and don't know what I'm talking about, and I think we all know they're just mad I disagree with them and am a better and more convincing writer to boot, and they're entitled losers who want me to write posts that make them feel good solely through what I'd call bullying but really it's more like if someone tried to shove me in a locker and accidentally gave themselves a concussion running headfirst into a locker, and I filmed it.

ANYWAY getting to the point yeah Yasha tells a story that hits the same core beats while also being a superior character on every level. She also had a difficult and abusive childhood (starting from a younger age) and experienced great loss and injustice, and also committed great harm. In her grief she was taken advantage of by sinister forces that sought to use and control her, and while she was able to escape with assistance, the bindings followed her. She continued to experience loss, and despite fighting back succumbed to her past controllers until her friends - not some stranger, but the people she'd met, coupled with her own abilities - broke her free, and she was able to meaningfully and rewardingly end her servitude. She messily worked through her feelings and in the process found love, and, having been forced to be a weapon and killer, made a choice to set that aside and find her own identity.

Any claim that Laudna's story manages to touch in a meaningful way on the same notes, when she never takes charge of her own destiny and simply drifts and flops about through various paths of least resistance until settling back in a rut, is a desperate and sad lie told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

I say this as someone who thinks that Critical Role campaign 2 is the best longform campaign of D&D I've seen, and that Candela Obscura Circle of Needle and Thread, Moonward, and EXU Calamity are all some of the best shortform campaigns of actual play: there is nothing I can think of that Campaign 3 does, across the board, that something else in actual play (ie, in this improvised format) doesn't do in a far superior fashion. That's really it. It's mediocre at best. None of these were the casts' strongest character nor relationship and it's certainly Matt's weakest plotting. If you liked it, that's great, but yeah there's nothing special about it.

[ashleymilesphil]

Honoring Intersex Awareness Day: A Call to Support LGBTIQ Refugees in East Africa 🌍🌈

Today, October 26, we honor Intersex Awareness Day—a day dedicated to recognizing and supporting the intersex community around the world. For many, it's a day of visibility and celebration, but here in East Africa, for those of us living as LGBTIQ refugees, it's a day that highlights the harsh reality of our lives.

As a transgender queer refugee and a member of the broader LGBTIQ community, I’ve seen firsthand the struggles that intersex refugees face. We are often forced to flee our homes, escaping violence and persecution, only to find ourselves living in camps that offer little protection or acceptance. Many of us have endured a lifetime of discrimination, not just for our gender or sexuality, but for the simple fact of being who we are.

We Face Violence, Isolation, and Starvation

Here in the refugee camps, resources are scarce, and discrimination follows us even after we’ve fled our home countries. We lack access to basic needs like food, clean water, medical care, and safe housing. Medical treatment, especially for intersex and transgender individuals, is nearly impossible to get. Our LGBTIQ community faces daily harassment, violence, and the constant threat of starvation. We are isolated and often forgotten—our stories left unheard by the rest of the world.

A Call to the Queer World for Solidarity

On this Intersex Awareness Day, I’m reaching out to the global queer community with a plea: We need your help. As fellow members of the LGBTIQ family, I ask you to stand with us, amplify our voices, and bring awareness to the urgent situation we face. Your support can make a difference—whether it’s sharing our stories, advocating for our rights, or donating to help meet our basic needs.

How You Can Help

1. Amplify Our Stories: Share our struggles on social media, talk about the hardships LGBTIQ refugees face in East Africa, and help break the silence that surrounds us.

2. Donate: If you’re able, please consider contributing to our GoFundMe campaign, where every donation helps us secure food, clean water, medical care, and safer shelter. Every contribution, no matter how small, can save a life.⬇️🙏‼️

3. Advocate: Call for better protection of LGBTIQ refugees worldwide, and urge your local representatives and organizations to offer support and resources to those of us who have been forced to live in exile.

Our journey is a difficult one, and we can't make it through without the support of the queer community worldwide. You can be our lifeline, helping us survive and continue to fight for our right to exist in a world that too often tries to silence us.

Thank You for Standing with Us

We are grateful for every bit of support, solidarity, and care that you can offer. Together, we can ensure that no LGBTIQ refugee is left behind, and that our voices are heard—loud and clear—on this Intersex Awareness Day and beyond.

With deep gratitude,

AshleymilesPhil

[read-marx-and-lenin]

hey, two questions.

1) do you have any good resources on art & marxism? im currently studying art history from the western/capitalist perspective and im looking to read the materialist perspective aswell. rn i know of john berger.

2) as a stalinist, what are your opinions on art or socialist realism?

I don't know of any particular works. Art history has never been a focus of mine. If anyone else has any suggestions, please leave them in the notes.

I don't consider "Stalinism" to be a real thing. It's an anti-communist boogeyman, like "authoritarianism" and "totalitarianism". I don't think Stalin made any major theoretical breaks from Lenin, he simply had a lot more experience with the practical side than Lenin did since he lived so much longer. The Stalin years, especially pre-war, exhibited some of the most progressive and radical social developments in the history of the USSR, many of which would not be seen again after his death and Khrushchev's de-Stalinization campaign. Obviously he was not the sole person responsible for this, he was never a dictator as so many anti-communists claim, and there were conservative elements during this period too such as the re-criminalization of homosexuality in the Soviet Union. But despite Stalin's flaws, it was the USSR under his leadership that succeeded in so many ways and demonstrated the possibility of long-lasting socialism to the world.

On the subject of Stalin, I recommend Pat Sloan's "Soviet Democracy" for an account of life in the USSR in the mid-1930s and to see why I deemed the period to be especially progressive. I recommend Anna Louise Strong's "The Stalin Era" for a much larger historical account of the USSR under Stalin, which goes into WW2 and the post-war period, including his death and a few years after it. And this one is a bit controversial, and I must admit I have not taken the time to go through it myself to a satisfactory degree since it is very dense, but I suggest that you read Grover Furr's "Khrushchev Lied" because it is the only work I know of that takes the effort to examine the claims Khrushchev made in his "Secret Speech" in detail.

When it comes to socialist realism, what comes to mind for me is a scene in a documentary called "My Brothers and Sisters in the North" (timestamp at 37:31 included in the link), about a woman from South Korea documenting her experiences traveling in North Korea. She meets with and interviews an artist there who is in the middle of creating a socialist realist painting, and asks him why he only paints beauty and why he doesn't paint "nastiness" and "ugliness". He simply says that he paints beauty because he enjoys it, because he's good at it, and because he wants to bring joy to other people. I don't see any reason why I should take stock in the typical Western narrative about artists under socialism being forced into narrow genres (and to be clear, I am not accusing you of holding this view). Socialist realist art has never been the only form of art to emerge out of the socialist world, and at the end of the day, socialist countries have been far more enthusiastic about giving artists the resources and opportunities they need to create than capitalist countries ever have.

[shorthaltsjester]

okay but i am very confused about the energy regarding the weavemind as. bells hells specific enemies? like sure they’re on ruidus and have been introduced in campaign 3 but none of bells hells have expressed a specific interest in taking them down, the weave mind has committed no specific crimes against bells hells that would equate it to being Justice™ for bh to fight them. even if you want to make the tenuous connection that like imogen and fearne are ruidusborn: both of them have focused much more on the consequences and revelations about their families that have come about from their ruidusborn existence than the authoritarian leaders of ruidus itself. so, uh, it is profoundly more interesting to have the party go after the person in charge of the army cult that contextualizes both of their existences and the trauma of the entirety of their party than a obscure group of villains that bh has no actual tangible relation to. like this was literally laid out in the conversation. bh get the cage and ludinus because that’s Their Fight that they’ve been fighting since imogen started dreaming and since orym’s family got killed. vox machina is taking the bridge because of the vax of it all. and mighty nein got the third less prevalent thing, because they’re experienced with psychic threats and manipulation (and also because of course the mighty nein are the ones dealing with the assignment less likely to be seen or heard about).

like the in-character reactions to the breakup of activities were only really considered anything close to negative by braius and dorian who while certainly now members of bells hells aren’t the ones upon which people are claiming to build their “this story is an injustice to the bells hells” sure it is. like ignoring the fact that being unable to get closure on every single issue and potential villain is a long-standing tradition in cr campaigns, i thought the thing everyone loved so much about bells hells is that they’re the npc party? and for better or worse c3 has been about being fast paced and it would be extraordinarily out of character for matt to say “oh these two high stakes and powerful groups have decided to fulfil their plans one at a time so that bells hells can sufficiently take them out.” like the only way that bells hells — the lowest level party — getting to take out One Of The Most Powerful Exandrian Mages is an injustice is if you’ve ignored the entire campaign and its context. like seeing the complaint that “it’s not bells hells story” yes, that has been made clear time and time again in the past 100 episodes. it’s completely fair to not like this, it’s extremely odd to see this as some sort of surprise wrecking ball that has come about in the decision to have more than one party of eight fuck ups trying to stop the unavoidably obvious world ending threat that exandria currently faces and not as something that has been made repeatedly clear by the themes and position of bells hells. like, throughout, unlike vm or mn, they have been handed their missions rather than choosing them (even if between 2 or 3 choices as was often the case with mn), they have explicitly discussed being the npcs or little guys, they have consistently gone to the bigger guys for help with things that previous parties either managed themselves or suffered without or had allies to help them (versus the like. Leaders that bh look to), even the dynamics of the parties express that bells hells are people stuck saving the world due to a bunch of personal moral codes rather than a specific decision to save the world because they’re the only ones who can, they’re expendable. that has made this campaign different throughout, it has made the characters less explored because they don’t have the time or means or desire to do so. and again it’s a matter of taste whether that’s something you enjoy, but it shouldn’t be a matter of “why would they do this” this far into the Bells Hells Aren’t Special They’re Just There campaign (which isn’t to say the characters aren’t special or whatever like they’re a bunch of weirdos but as a party they’re just a party)

[austinslounge]

I didn't want to bring it up, but now that another anon mentioned it, I'll admit that I too am worried about Austin's disappearance. I don't expect him to be seen out on dates like a wild man, but he hasn't even been spotted out with friends in LA or elsewhere. One red flag was just 2 nights ago, when Dune 2 cinematographer & Josh Brolin had a Dune book release party at a gallery. Denis & Timmy showed up, but not Austin. Can't he do at least the minimum promo, as a courtesy to his friends?

I'm glad he's been spending valuable time reconnecting with family, but eventually he'll want to go back to the life and career that he's worked so hard for. Yes, there are certain successful actors that can live a life completely outside of Hollywood (Ryan Gosling comes to mind), but Austin is just not there yet. He's still building his career, and any talent manager or pr professional will tell him to get out there & network.

I know you are of the opinion that Austin was so happy to dump K's ass & they were a meaningless pr relationship, but what if that's not the case? What if he had a change of heart or was hoping to patch things up, but K moved on like Austin never existed? What if the breakup has taken its toll & he is struggling? None of us are in his head, by your own admission, so we don't know what negative thoughts he might have while alone & no longer with a romantic companion. That can be the case for any person, but compounded by the pressures of Hollywood stardom makes things even more challenging.

Okay, you all are going to need a seat for this one, because I have a lot to say.

Anon, I understand your concern, but keep in mind that even early last year, Austin wasn't spotted in LA for months unless it was during a red carpet event (and he had several last year).

His pap visibility, even from last year in LA, subsided drastically. The only time he was usually papped was when he was spotted with [Redacted] or in NYC filming. I think it's pretty clear now who was calling the paps.

I think fans just got used to him promoting a bunch of stuff last year, being everywhere for "Elvis" promo and awards season, and being with a pap-calling gf, that fans didn't realize that he's actually pretty low-key when he's not working or dating someone who's calling the paps every 2 seconds. 😒

Keep in mind that Austin might not even be in LA atm. We really don't even know. He hasn't been spotted since Colorado. If he's spending time visiting his family, then good for him! That should be encouraged, not discouraged (imo).

Also, keep in mind that Austin and Callum hung out and weren't papped or even seen by locals while out together. They mentioned during their MOTA press tour that they hung out together with each other while Callum was in LA visiting from London. We didn't even know that they had hung out in LA together until they themselves mentioned it. Again, more signs that Austin isn't the one calling paps on himself.

It's also good to remember that Austin is usually a homebody. Even Florence said during their Dune Press Tour that she had to drag him out of his hotel room to get him go out while they were in Budapest filming lol. 😅 He's an introvert. Him being by himself or not "out and about" doesn't mean he's depressed. Just because you're alone, it doesn't necessarily mean you feel "lonely". You can be in a relationship and still feel very lonely and dejected. (Keep that in mind)

Wrt the Dune Book Release Party -- Ummm...Timmy is the lead in Dune Part 2. Austin is not. Timmy is also campaigning for an Oscar. Austin is not. Austin has already done the whole Oscar campaigning where he was seen everywhere. He's not going to do something that he doesn't have to do lol.

Austin's career and visibility is just fine imo. It's actually very smart if he wants to be an actor who people can realistically believe can disappear into various different roles. Maybe he himself doesn't want to become too overexposed since he already went through a huge Elvis press tour & awards season where he was everywhere, and he had 3 projects to promote last year.

Austin (so far) seems like he's honestly just enjoying his life and time off before he has to promote 2 films this year, and possibly film something else.

Look, I know some of you out there may have this whole fantasy in your heads about how Austin is missing [Redacted] and wants her back lol, but just look at the facts!

Austin dumped [Redacted]. It was his decision! It wasn't like she dumped him, and now he's feeling bad and wants to make things work. It didn't even seem like they had a huge blown up fight and broke up in haste! According to DM, he had even stopped making an effort 6 months prior to see her. That right there should tell you something. She was turning him off pretty badly if he didn't even want to see her, even just for.... 👀 Look -- He pretty much showed by his actions how he feels.

Austin and [Redacted] broke up months ago. In fact, I believe they broke up even as early as September. Don't you think that if he wanted her back, he would have done something by now?? She's been single for months before getting with Lewis lol.

If Austin were "sad" about her being with another guy and wanted her back, don't you think he would have done something to get her back while she was getting close with Marcello?? Toe Thumbs Dude? Santa's Lap Dude? Think about it. 🤔

Look at the way Austin looked while in a relationship with [Redacted]. Can you honestly (with a straight face) say that Austin looked happy...especially all of 2024 with her? Why would you think that he would want to go back to a relationship w/a woman who he looked miserable and depressed with most of the time?? Someone who he was liking videos on IG tagged "toxic relationships"? Girl, get real! Idk any man who would be mourning a relationship like that. Especially one in which her family threw him under the bus, and one where the media was going back and forth on how "they have nothing in common" and there's "trouble in paradise". Why regress back into a relationship in which Austin didn't even look in love with her? (And we all know what Austin in love looks like -- We had 8 years of seeing him in love).

In conclusion, before I end this essay, I just wanted to say that we just need to be patient. We will see Austin again.😊 He will pop up (maybe even unexpectedly!?). Fans just have to be patient, that's all. 💜

[sugarcoatednightshade]

I haven’t thought of Lily Orchard in years, but she just made a video on dungeon meshi and I wanted to hear what she had to say. I couldn’t even finish it.

It’s clear she hates anime as a genre and is pissed about having to review something she didn’t want to watch, and that anger permeates the whole* review. On top of that, it’s so fucking disingenuous to review a show that’s not even halfway over and then claim it’s thematically disjointed - like 1. Of course it’ll seem that way if you’ve only seen the first quarter of a piece of work, we’re still in the setting up stage, these themes haven’t had time to fully commingle and resolve and 2. Even considering that, dungeon meshi does actually know what it is/where it’s going, and at this point it’s fairly obvious how all the themes/mixed genera’s are gonna fit together.**

*to be fair, I haven’t seen the entire review, so maybe she calms down partway through. I don’t make a habit of watching things I know will upset me, and watching someone make bad faith criticism of something I like would literally ruin my week

Post chapter 65 spoilers below:

**Granted, cookings prominence in the show, while cute*** on its own, didn’t really seem plot relevant to me until around chapter 65 when it was revealed that in order to save falin they would have to eat her dragon half. Y’all, I went fucking feral over that reveal.

***cute meaning: it’s used mostly for worldbuilding at first. That’s really cool if you’re into it, and an integral part of the story ryoko kui is telling, but not technically necessary in every story. There are plenty of storys who spend needless time expositing about the world instead of focusing on the interesting bits, and if you’re only a quarter of the way into DM, I can see how you might think that this is one of those cases.

But obviously, as time passes, the worldbuilding aspects become more important, because the entire show is about worldbuilding. Or more accurately, it’s a deconstruction of the fantasy genera. It spends time setting up familiar tropes and then examines how those tropes would actually play out in a realistic world, setting up and then questioning our expectations for the world in a really nuanced way.

My favorite example of this is how dungeon meshi treats dark/ancient magic.

1. The words ‘dark magic’ and ‘dark elf’ have negative but vague connotations in traditional fantasy. “The thing is bad because it is bad.” It’s a fact we’re primed to believe, but shallow and easy to question

2. We learn that marcille uses dark magic, but that she’s using it for good. “Actually dark magic is forbidden because the people in power were afraid of The Plebs and want to restrict the populaces access to knowledge” is also a common fantasy trope.

3. As we learn more about dungeons and how they intertwine with dark magic, we learn that it does truly have the power to end the world. Not by itself, but because the dimension it pulls power from is populated by beings who would use that bridge of power to enter our world and cause havoc. Holy shit, we think, black magic is actually dangerous and was banned for a reason. Naming it ‘black’ was part of a smear campaign intended to save the public by dissuading them from using it

4. And then we learn that the so called catastrophe scenario has never happened, no demon has ever escaped a dungeon and successfully ended the world. Is this because of the work of the Canaries and ppl like them, or are demons perhaps not as much of a threat as they are made out to be?

And it’s great because there is no one correct answer. We learn things through the characters, whose perspectives are limited and realistic and based on their own life experience. Nobody knows the whole story, and neither do we.

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

This is the kinda shit that makes me laugh for 2 reasons.

1 Biden spend 2/3's is good time in office not even doing his job, and didn't even get elected on his own, the media literally ran his campaign.

And Trump is golfing. Who gives a fuck. Literally. If you arrogant assholes didn't have double standards you wouldn't have any at all. Hell let's look back at the Texas freeze. ALL I HEARD noon stop was how Ted Cruz went on vacation with his family. A FUCKING SENATOR! Meanwhile Abbott was doing his job as governor. Newsom though. MFer little bailed for several days and he's the actual governor of California. Where was the criticism? Hmmm. Yeah that's what I thought. You only whine about Republicans because it's all you do. With almost no merit to the bullshit.

Hell you people scream we should trust the FBI except not when they clear a Republican you don't like. I can count the amount of times I've seen Geatz called a pedophile because of unsubstantiated claims. Claims he was LITERALLY CLEARED OF. None of you have consistent standards. At all. And it's annoying.

Honestly must be nice to have no other problems in the world than worrying if Trump is golfing. Actually shouldn't you all be happy he's golfing and not doing his supposed "fascist take over"? You people literally can't be happy unless you have a boot on someone else's neck. It's frankly sick.

[httpsryu]

kites : part 2

pairing : kim minji x fem! reader

summary: both you and minji both decide to run for class president in order to prove one another on who's the brightest but it also happens to be the exact time a certain someone decides that her silly heart beats for the other

category: enemies-to-lovers(ish?), high school au

genre: slow burn(?), fluff, and angst tiny amount or not

warnings: competitive and jealousy, kind of makes you feel single ;-;

a/n: be sure to check out p.1 of kites

minji clears her throat, sitting straight up in her desk as she tells herself that she doesn’t have a crush on you. 

yeah, she was just tired, that’s all. (no, it isn’t)

however, she didn’t get any sleep at all last night because even though minji wanted to rest, her tired brain decides to think about you and your dumb smile. that already speaks a pretty high medium. 

“bro! bro! bro!” hanni runs in the class, panting as she sits down in her seat. 

the other hums in response. 

“shin yuna confessed to y/n out this morning!” hanni shockingly exclaims. 

what? 

shin yuna, otherwise known as the school’s breadwinner for soccer, floor ball, and volleyball. 

the whole female and male population would kill to even have the talented athlete look their way. and honestly, it’s no surprise if you accept her confession because yuna always gets everything she wants. 

but why would yuna confess to you?

for all minji recalled, she’s never seen you hangout with the year 4 student. 

but then again, who wouldn’t confess to you? 

you were always hardworking, never letting anyone take advantage of you when it came to your education, and you viewed every assignment as an opportunity to grow. 

you’re pretty too. especially when your hair is half-up and half-down, framing your face beautifully. or when you come to school with glasses that’s a tad big for your face but nonetheless, everyone still finds you adorable. at least, minji does. 

minji shrugs, trying to look disinterested in the topic of you. “and you’re telling me this why?” 

“it was romantic, bro!” hanni clasps her hands together, leaning her cheek on them as she remembers the way everyone was screaming at the interaction this morning. 

“yeah? how romantic?” minji asks, knowing the chokehold romance has on people. 

especially you. 

“well, yuna walked up towards her at her cube box and handed her a letter with a small bouquet of roses.” the other replies, smiling again. “she also gave y/n her letterman as a form of respect.” 

minji wanted to laugh. you dislike roses, you’ve always preferred lavenders and orchids more. you weren’t a big fan of letters either because you’ll just end up giving them back graded. 

“and apparently, she accepted.” 

“oh.” 

at the mentioning of one’s name, y/n walks in, linked arm-to-arm with rei. 

however, the only thing that minji’s eyes landed on was the letterman bunched in your hands. 

she observes the way you place your books down first before sitting, observing the way you let go of your best friend’s arm once you realize class is about to start. 

“i can’t believe yuna went for it! look at me playing matchmaker!” 

at hanni’s words, minji turns towards the other. 

“w-why are you looking at me like that?” “minji?” 

what minji didn’t observe was the way you subtly sneaked in a glance at her. 

“why do i have to be there to help you with the campaign again?” wonyoung whines, barely being able to see with two bins full of poster papers, markers, and other fun stuff in her arms. 

you laugh, tip toeing to pat your best friend on the head. “oh my sweet wonyoung, did i tell you that yujin is also going to be in the art room as well?” 

“oh hail y/n.” wonyoung smiles while she tries her best to place a kiss on your cheek. “thank you! thank you! i love you!” 

you screech, backing away as she comes closer to you. 

“come onn~ you know you want a kissy from wony.” the taller teases. 

shaking your head at your best friend’s antics while laughing, you didn’t seem to realize that you two were still in the hallways where many students are on their way towards walking home. 

feeling the back of your shoes bumping into something, you suddenly lose balance and gasp at the feeling of falling. wonyoung’s eyes widens as she drops the bins, her arm reaching out to catch you. however, it’s too late as someone else holds you from behind, their arm securing around your waist. 

wonyoung gasps, seeing the hero of the day as she puts her hand over her mouth to contain her squeal.

it's finally happening.

"i got you." the voice from behind gently says, her hold still on you.

you're taking in everything all at once. from almost falling to your death, seeing your best friend's failed attempt at reaching out for you, and being caught in the arms of the girl you despise the most.

"y/n?" minji asks, trying her best to sound gentle in order to not startle you.

you rush from releasing yourself out from her hold, turning around to face her. "thanks, kim..."

avoiding the stare from her, you gaze down at the girl's shoes, which has a scuff on from you. you feel your cheeks heating up at the mere thought of being clumsy in front of her.

minji feels as if someone punched her in the stomach, speechless from the way you look so cute in front of her. "oh. i-it's whatever."

"i'm sorry about your shoes." you look up, trying to ignore the way her stare suddenly makes you feel.

the taller shakes her head, letting out a half smile (she's trying to playing it cool). "it's okay, y/n."

"cool." you respond, gasping once you suddenly remembering about wonyoung and the dropped bins.

minji takes notice of your concerned face, placing a hold on your shoulder to relax you. "everything okay?"

"yeah, it's just wonyoung was holding the bins and-" you turn around to find no wonyoung but only the dropped bins.

oh, fuck her.

"looks like she left you here to clean up by yourself." minji looks down at the bins as well, walking over towards them and kneeling to pick up the dropped materials. "i can help lend a hand if you don't mind?"

minji is different from the image you always had of her.

maybe because today she isn't glaring or staring directly at you like she hates your guts. she's actually taking time out of her day to help you...

without realizing it, you let out a nod, while you too, kneel besides her to pick up the materials off of the ground.

you don't notice but minji sneaks a subtle, quick glance at you, the suffocating air makes her realize that maybe this is more than a sudden attraction to you.

she gasps silently at how obvious she was looking at you, panicking as she starts to grab whatever off of the floor. accidentally, touching your hand while you went for the same marker as well.

"oh! sorry!" minji pulls her hand back, wanting to hit herself for the stupidity.

you let out a small shrug.

minji glances down at her watch.

5:45 pm.

that was the exact time when minji finally realized she definitely and surely does have a crush on you.

with a heavy inhale, minji holds her breath before stepping into her homeroom teacher's office.

"oh! minji, what could i help you with at this time?" the mid-twenties woman looks up from her clipboard with a cheerful smile.

minji bows at her teacher, fidgeting with her hands while trying to come up with a way to break the news. "i-umm..i want to forfeit out of the class election."

"but it ends tomorrow, minji-ah."

"that fast?"

the woman nods slowly, understanding the sudden pressure that the students are developing from the race. "the rules was two days maximum to get a good campaign running, along with a speech."

"and i won't be able to forfeit? i haven't started anything yet."

"i'm afraid it's too late, the only ones running are you, y/n, and jungwon. it's only fair to have three instead of two."

curse ms. ahn (not literally though).

the female student disappointedly nods before once again bowing. "i understand. thank you for informing me."

ms. ahn smiles apologetically, waving bye at the student.

welp, there goes minji's plans now.

the said girl sighs, disappointed with how she couldn't forfeit running for class president. she leans against the wall, sliding slowly to the floor slowly while groaning in frustration.

"woah, what's going on with you?" a voice distracts her from her thoughts.

looking up, the girl is faced with all four of her best friends.

minji slightly frowns. "i'm not allowed to drop out from running for class president, bro."

"wait-drop out?" hanni exclaims. "but i thought you always wanted to be class president?"

the older shrugs. "I only wanted to be class president because i thought only the smartest person could won, which would prove i'm a lot smarter than y/n."

"uh huh...?"

haerin quietly observes the way minji's facial expressions appeared upon saying your name. and the cat eyed female wonders why minji is deciding to throw away her lifelong dream of being class president because of you.

until, it hits haerin at the fact that minji could be hopelessly and stupidly in love with you.

"but now, i realized it's stupid and that y/n definitely deserves it more than me, the title of being number one." minji sadly says, looking down at her shoes and a smiles upon her mouth at the scuff on her left shoe, precisely. "she's so hardworking and determine, ever since we were young. and we could've been great friends but i ruined it first."

friends, huh?

that was the biggest lie minji has ever said. she wants to be more than friends with you. but, everything is too late. minji feels like she's one second behind.

"well, if anything could help, how about you help out with y/n's campaign instead? you know..like secretly?" danielle suggests, hoping her best friend head lifts up slowly. "she's been struggling on coming up with an idea for her posters."

increase the chances of you winning? why didn't minji think of that earlier?

"oh my gosh, wait! that's a genius idea!"

"wow, you're so smart." hanni looks over at the other australian.

danielle nods with happiness, her smile bright as the sun while haerin softly lets out a hum at how pretty her girlfriend is.

minji quietly sighs while looking at the two.

it's not unusual for others to come talk to you, however, it's not common either.

all morning, everyone you passed by or made eye contact with stopped you to ask about why you rejected yuna.

"geez, they really need to stop bombarding you with this subject." wonyoung rolls her eyes.

you nod in agreement.

"omg, i heard from others that they saw minji hanging up campaign posters and they looked amazing." a passing student gossips with her friend, earning your attention. "i won't be surprised if she wins for her class."

WHAT?

stopping in the middle of your tracks, frightening your best friend besides you, you gasp.

"MY POSTERS!" releasing yourself from wonyoung's grip, you panic before making a run towards the art room to print out the posters you came up with yesterday.

wonyoung stares at your back, shaking her head in disbelief at how you always do things last minute and manages to perfect your grade.

the only thing on your mind while sprinting full speed was ways to gather more attention on your campaign instead of your arch nemesis's campaign.

upon seeing the room, you slow down a bit.

"oh! y/n, what are you doing here? i thought you already printed out your posters?" seeun brightly asks, running into you at the entrance. "they look amazing by the way!"

posters? huh?

"what do you mean? i haven't printed out any posters yet.." you tilt your head to the side gently, leaving the upperclassman in awed and she clearly understands why her friend, yuna is having a rough start to her day.

seeun purses her lips out, remembering clearly what minji told her. "really? minji told me that you asked her to print your posters out first thing in the morning."

kim minji.

"oh. i guess i did." you reply with a strange tone. "i'm going to get going then! bye seeun-sunbae!"

and before the older could bid your goodbye, you were already off.

"that kid." she giggles at your antics before returning on refilling the printers with paper.

minji didn't expect to find you standing in front of her desk to say the least, yet here you stood in front of her with evident anger from your expression. she amusedly crosses her arm, eyeing you from head-to-toe with a strange glint in her eyes.

"bro, you're in my view." minji tsks with her tongue.

"b-bro?" you're honestly appalled she has the audacity to call you bro when she tampered with your campaign posters. "you think you're allowed to sit in your seat right now?"

the older girl raises her brow in confusion. "excuse me?"

"why did you print out posters for me?" you ask with anxiety suddenly flooding over you. "is this one of your sick games, minji?"

minji stares blankly at you, trying to process everything that happened between the both of you. "i-i didn't mean to mess with anything."

"you wanted to prove you're smarter than me that bad, huh? you're always going to be the same kim minji since primary school."

minji opens her mouth to say something, however, you start walking away from her desk. hearing you mumble something along the lines of "i need to transfer".

"bro, what just happened?" hanni asks besides her. "i thought you made and hung up posters for her?"

the other watches your back leave with a sad expression.

"i did."

what went wrong? minji swore she made sure no one else was in the school when she hung up the posters in fear of others switching up actions or hence making up rumors.

"i need to go!" the female stands out of her seat, ready to follow after you.

of course, time is the enemy for kim minji because the bell's tone rings throughout the school indicating that school is now starting.

"good morning class!"

what about you, though?

you glance down at the view of seoul from the school's rooftop, closing your eyes in the process as the wind gently blows across. inhaling the air and exhaling shortly afterwards.

opening your eyes, you lean against the railing while you couldn't help but to think about the other student; kim minji.

you assumed the unspoken rivalry between the both of you has gotten squashed but the other assumed something else.

it's always been like that since primary school so why does it bother you so much?

"i knew i could find you here." a voice appears and immediately you roll your eyes from irritation and anger starting to form inside of you.

the person sighs, not hearing a response from you.

"y/n...i never meant to tamper with anything, i care about you way too much to do that."

you budge a little, still not believing her words. why should you?

"i-i'm still not sure how to tackle this." minji says from behind, her footsteps coming closer from behind. "especially because someone else is interested in you."

you furrow your brows from the other's words.

"what are you talking about, kim?" turning around to face her, however, before you can take the chance to see her, you space out once you feel a pair of lips against yours.

this kiss, you're confused on if it's actually happening. once or twice, you've wondered what it'd be like kissing kim minji - everything is all slow and soft and it's all like a dream however, you reciprocate the kiss.

getting pulled back in reality when you feel a strong hold finding your waist, you can't help but to snake your arms around her neck. you notice the way minji's kissing turns to a change of going faster and deeper, a bit desperate to say the least.

but in a flash, the warmth between your lips leaves. minji gasps, taking quite a few steps back away from you.

"fuck. i-i don't know what came over me. i shouldn't have done that." she says, looking down at her scuffed shoes.

"what?" you ask in a whisper tone-like voice.

minji closes her eyes, wanting to hit herself. "i'm sorry."

for some strange reason, you feel tears welling up in your eyes. humiliation becoming your strong opponent and you too look down at the ground.

"i think i should head back." minji sighs to herself, feeling like the worse person right now.

before you could respond to her, the older is out in a scurry.

watching the emptiness in front of you, you couldn't help but to touch your lips with your fingertips and feeling the other's touch still lingering.

minji rushes towards to the canteen, her heart still beating very loudly to focus on anything, her face definitely flushed as she can't stop shaking from nervousness and guilt as well.

"fuck. fuck. fuck." she mutters, biting on her thumb while she walks towards the lunch table where her friends are sitting, ready to dive into their food.

hanni tilts her head slightly, wondering why minji took long to use the restroom. "bro, you okay?"

"yeah." the other replies while taking her seat, wincing at the way she sounded a little too harsh. "sorry."

the australian shrugs to the others before she opens up the lunch that her mother packed for her.

haerin notices the way the oldest isn't touching any of her lunch, her leg constantly bouncing up and down from some sort of anxiousness feeling. she also observes on how minji's face has a slight and faint flush to it.

what the hell happened in that restroom? (if minji even went in the first place).

"rin? everything alright?" danielle asks upon seating besides the kitty-eyed female.

haerin lets out a hum in response, scooting closer to her girlfriend and resting her chin on the other's shoulder.

"have any of you seen y/n yet?" wonyoung places her lunch tray on the table, along with rei and jiwon.

minji tenses up at the your name.

"she left home room since school started." hanni replies, concern glowing down on her face. "why? is everything alright?"

rei pouts, shaking her head. "she isn't answering any of our calls."

"today is her favorite lunch menu too." jiwon softly sighs, looking down at the food for today with a sad look.

wonyoung constantly stares at the canteen's doors from her seat, scanning for the sight of you. "i'm sure she'll come around. y/n never vanishes on us like that out of nowhere."

minji couldn't bare to make a noise.

for the second time in a row, lunch doesn't taste as good because you weren't there and minji knows that it's all because of her.

as all the students gather in home room for the announcement of the winners, minji stares at the door of the room. her eyes doesn't budge, manifesting for your figure to walk through.

"still no sign of your girlfriend yet?" hanni teases, wondering why minji is so concerned of her so-called rival.

"shut up."

the universe must be in the favor of the female because at the exact moment, you appear right in front of her eyes.

but..why do you look upset?

"oh. she doesn't look too well." the vietnamese-australian purses her bottom lip out in sadness at your expression. "maybe because the others won't stop pestering her about rejecting yuna."

YOU DID WHAT?

"rejecting yuna?" minji asks, looking at the back of your pretty head.

hanni nods, her eyes lighting up at the gossip. "it happened yesterday at the softball field."

why would you reject yuna?

a small hope in minji's heart yearned at the possibility that maybe you reciprocated the same feelings as her but another part of minji's heart is telling her that you probably like someone else.

however, after all, you did kiss her back.

that has to mean something, right? RIGHT?

"oh my gosh, where were you? we were looking for you." rei exclaims, hand over her chest as if all her worries finally floated away and relief took over. "jiwon was so close to filing a missing person report but wonyoung managed to convince her not to."

you let out a small laugh at how your best friends are, letting out a squeal the second rei wraps her arms around you and placing small friendly kisses on your head.

"i swear if jungwon gets vice president and not you, i will genuinely throw a tantrum." hanni comments, looking at the way the male student is running around with his banner wrapped around him like a cape.

minji besides her lets out an uninterested hum, squinting with her eyes at the sight of you and rei getting a little too comfty.

"welcome back from lunch, class!" ms.ahn barges through with a bright grin and a clipboard. "who's ready for three awesome students with their three amazing speeches they wrote?"

after jungwon finished up his speech, claps floods the room and whistles from his friends are echoing throughout. "thank you everyone!"

"that was wonderful, i'd believe up next we have y/n." ms. ahn's direction trails over to you.

you're not sure why but in this exact moment, you feel like you're suddenly sweating gallons and gallons and your heart is pounding like crazy at the sight of seeing all your peers looking at you in anticipation. it feels as if someone wrapped a hand around your stomach and you didn't like that.

somehow, you want to win. not to prove to minji that you're obviously the smarter one but the feeling of winning and being the student to where others ask for help makes you want to win. so bad.

minji notices the way blood is drained away from your pretty face, she takes a glance down at your feet tapping rapidly against the glossed floor.

"y/n? are you okay?" she gently whispers, one of her hand ready to grasp ahold of yours.

you bring your hand away from within her reach, giving her a glare before walking up to the "podium" to do your speech.

minji feels a part of her chest shattering at your action but she knows she probably deserves that. especially, after kissing you and escaping before you, yourself could say anything.

besides, she kissed you without your permission.

"hi, homeroom G-32. ummm-i'm sure everyone knows who i am, haha. to tell the truth, i'm only running for president because i wanted to prove to someone over a childish banter but also while preparing for this speech, i learned that i suddenly want to be the type of person who is willing to sacrifice their own being for their fellow schoolmates." you look up and let out a small smile at the way you gained their attention. "i can't promise you all anything when it comes to pizza for lunch nor getting extended due dates for papers the way jungwon did. however, i can promise you with the fact that i will succeed in the rest of this school year an unforgettable one."

minji couldn't help but to softly and proudly smile at you.

"y/n, that was amazing." ms. ahn says in awed. "last but not least, minji."

you let out a bow, walking back to the spot where you stood previously. you feel a certain pair of eyes on you, to which you ignore with your head held up high.

"hello everyone, it's minji. i didn't prepare anything, oops." the other girl giggles to herself, her smile looking too mesmerizing to you. "and to be honest, i did try to forfeit out of running."

what?

scattered gasps are heard throughout the room, leaving the teacher to shush them and for minji to proceed.

"i know, shocking, huh?" minji understands why the others are surprised, she has always been evident of running for president ever since she was a child so where is all of this coming from now? "if you guys haven't know, a certain someone and i have been in this ongoing rivalry..on who's the smartest. i'm sure you all know who it is..and honestly, all throughout my years, i felt the need to show them that i was the most brightest one. i honestly don't know why either. and i guess that's why i always wanted to run for president, just so i can 1up her."

"i'm not up here to win for anyone's votes, i'm up here to let you all know that kang y/n is a wonderful, responsible, beautiful, and reliable human being that would make an amazing president for this homeroom. thank you." minji bows at the class.

what the fuck?

if anyone needs any pity votes, it should as hell should be jungwon and not you.

"well minji, i am surprised by your speech." ms.ahn says, finally understanding the reason the student wanted to forfeit as she takes notice of minji's gleaming eyes when you look at her. "okay class, now on the piece of paper i've handed out, please write down your vote."

that feeling is coming back into your stomach and suddenly you feel a drip of sweat running down your forehead from the hot air surrounding you.

"y/n?" the voice you strongly dislike asks in a whisper.

you want to ignore her, but you can't.

looking up from the ground, you're met with the older's eyes staring down at you with a weird look in her eyes.

"are you nervous?" minji takes notice of the way you're slightly trembling from either the air or because you're anxious of the sudden quietness in the room while the class votes for best pick.

before you could answer her with a nod, the back of her hand is already reaching to dab the sweat away with the sleeve of her uniform.

"t-thanks..."

minji smiles softly at you, not missing the way there was a kite softly flying out the classroom's window.

cliffhanger :P

update! pt. 3 is out as well! you can find it on my master list :)

[thequeenofmyownscreen]

My thoughts about episode 7, season 3 of The Legend of Vox Machina :

Anna Ripley backstory we've never seen before ! With some Cerberus Assembly thrown in there (at least 6 members of it... As we know from Campaign 2, not all members of the Cerberus Assembly have reached the 'I'm commiting a massacre and I don't care' evil point ; Oremid Hass being an example. I do wonder if the Mighty Nein animated series will be as clear on this point, because, for now, for TLOVM viewers only, the Cerberus Assembly = evil.)

That sure does sounds like the Vex and Percy we know and love (still going strong 30 years later !) :

I love the on-going conversation between Percy and Vex about the meaning of their relationship and the want to bare yourself for the others to see. Both their reactions are very true to character. And of course, knowing what we know about Glintshore, it hurts so good seeing Vex deny her feelings. It will be too late later...

That was very funny both times :

Look, do I find that Grog's nightmarish visions (a library filled with books with no pictures) a little too easy and relying a little too much on him not knowing how to read, making him once again just the comic relief ? Yes. Is it still funny ? Yes !!

I do wonder where they're going with that "Pike blood" storyline... Since Zerxus is apparently a follower of the Whispered One, maybe it's tied to that ? Or maybe it's tied to that character arc for Pike involving her family (you know, the Keyfish episode) ?...

That shot is amazingly beautiful :

I still cried, knowing what would happen, and what happened. In the end, Percy truly renounced vengeance, and Anna Ripley did not. And she did not even met her end at the hands of Vox Machina... I have to believe this is not the last we'll see of her, but if feels like déjà vu all over again. I would have prefered if she died in that episode. But we'll see.

[brightlypainted]

I went completely bananas and wrote a full analysis of Joker Out and JO fandom stuff and situation... idk

Hi baby boos!

I’ve seen some confusion regarding JO’s latest announcements and social media activity (or lack thereof) so I've tried to analyze the current situation with a critical eye 🤓

I don't use Tumblr much so you're probably more familiar with my Twitter but I got suggested to post this here for easier reading (and... better audience in general 👀)

Long rant under the cut:

Before I begin I must point out that these are my opinions and theories. I have no idea how JO’s communication and management is being organized right now, I’m just making assumptions based on my perception as a fan 🤷‍♀️

(also I’m a communication graduate but my studies and current job cover this sector only tangentially so I may not know how some/most of this works…)

Let’s start with comparing last year’s situation to the current one: one year ago the boys were riding high on the wave of enthusiasm, having had a successful ESC (despite the ending placement) and having gained a lot of attention as fan favorite competitors ✨

A very high % of the growing fanbase, esp the international one, was coming directly or tangentially through ESC and how do you maintain that attention once the contest is over? you increase your social media presence and you start planning international concerts. which they did!

This constant exposure to content made the fandom flourish: we were all witnessing how easily people from everywhere could join and already feel at the very center of attention, both because JO’s communication was being very active and successful and also thanks to fanmade organizations like JokerOutSubs, group chats, old time Slovenian fans sharing juicy pre-ESC content, etc. I'll be grateful forever

We had a past year that could be divided into 2 halves in terms of communication: it all went extremely well until more or less the end of 2023 (last tour dates in Spain) and then started gradually becoming very odd and chaotic all through 2024 until last month’s complete draught

We know that they mostly tend to manage their online presence on their own, so ofc during breaks and during very busy times is harder for them to find good content to share. They had also been very clear about needing time off their phones all through the London era and the album recording in Hamburg, so that didn’t come as a surprise for fans 🤷‍♀️

But having very sensible, personal reasons to quit/decrease social media presence has unfortunately no meaning in communication, where the laws are very simple: once you stop sharing, you stop existing

I don’t want to criticize their choices, because they are entitled to their privacy and offline time. I’m just pointing out that this very long, hiccup-y period probably could have been avoided with better management and with the presence of a smm/pre-planned sm communication 🙃

It also unfortunately happened concurrently to the new ESC season, which was bound to “organically” erode part of the fandom anyway, and to an EU tour that, although successful, has still highlighted a lazy/bad management and yet again a communication that made little to no sense at times (es. the whole campaign that subtly asked people to go to more than one concert, which clearly made fans with less financial and logistical possibilities feel ‘lacking’ and ‘inferior’) 🙄

In their defense, the tour was to establish a fanbase more than gaining more fans and exposure, so pushing for getting more of a loyal than an occasional fanbase wasn’t completely wrong an idea… it just backfired

And it did because the greatest part of their international fanbase is made of very young people who aren’t financially independent and whose interests are bound to be fleeting and shifting ESPECIALLY when they aren’t constantly met with content production/consumption

Let’s also not forget that having completely shifted their attention to international waters at the expense of the Slovenian/regional fanbase has been very risky. We still can’t tell if the gamble was successful or not

It’s never a good idea to ignore/neglect your hardcore supporters, the very people that helped you raise to your current standards. it’s true they are the most loyal, but they are also very easily the ones that could feel more betrayed

I also think it’s very risky trying to shift the fans’ content consumption out of social media and into a (controlled, easier to manage, ofc) site like Openstage for two main reasons: as said before, complete disappearance from socials means communicational suicide and until now, the “dedicated content” directed toward fans on the site has been… too bland and generic (sorry)(they can learn how to improve that)

Openstage has other very interesting uses tho, firstly the early access to ticket sales and secondly the tracking of international fan presence, which was pretty clearly the main goal and reason why they opened the site in the first place... so it’s not ex ante a bad communication choice, just (until now) one that has yet to show its potential and usefulness

So what now? I think it’s time they make a few considerations and sensible choices to maintain what’s currently the status quo and in order to tackle festival season in the best way

They need to keep their international presence by opening their fanbase to a new kind of fans: festivals bring exposure to bands from a very specific type of fanbase, more interested in music than in contents. If they manage to capture the interest of Sziget people, for example, they could gather a new type of international fanbase less interested in the “social media” content consumption and more in the “I wanna see these guys play again, somewhere else, maybe a show of their own” way

(which, to be completely fair, could be the best choice to cure their current crazy/shifting/confusing fanbase state, giving them more peace of mind, more privacy and a more “normal” rock band experience than the one they had in the past year… that we can all agree has been pretty bad at times)

I personally think this summer season must go in the quantity direction (gaining more new fans) and at the same time in the quality direction (less shows, bigger stages) and this is why some of you are disappointed in seeing so little shows compared to last year or to the SYS tour... I get it

Many of us, me included, won’t be seeing JO live for the whole summer season, and I’m aware that is disappointing, but I hope this analysis has helped you put things into perspective and consider maybe one of the possible reasons why this next phase for Joker Out is being organized this way

I’m still hoping they’ll find a good compromise with their social media communication, because right now I really feel that being the main issue with the gradual but constant drop in traction (please boys hire a smm. i adore jan’s sad edits and the unhinged video and stories like the next person but serious work has to be done too)

Ending the rant on a note of hope: I wish to see you all enjoy the summer and the content to come and I hope for the boys to have a successful, fun season full of new experiences, new music, new people, fresh ideas for the future. I’m honestly very excited for what’s to come! 🌻

[grandwretch]

only must i wander, chapter 9

dustin's intermission

[on ao3] [ch 1][ch 2][ch 3][ch 4][ch 5][ch 6][ch 7][ch 8]

1985, september

The gravel of Hopper's drivethrough crunched under Dustin's bike wheels. It was late, night having long since settled over Hawkins, but the cabin windows glowed warmly, beckoning him inside. He could already hear the voices of his friends inside, yelling and laughing over some joke he couldn't make out-- Excitement lanced through him when he heard Eddie's wild cackle. 

It had been months since he'd seen Eddie outside of school. Months since he'd been able to hang out with most of them, actually. He'd been grounded for weeks  after the mall fire, and once his mom had found out about Steve being a Grimm, he'd basically been under house arrest. Dustin had missed so much, catching up on the phone with El or in sadly human hangouts with Max. They had Wesen game nights, now. D&D campaigns he didn't get invited to. Movie nights where they watched his favorites without him. Summer had been torture, and seeing them in between classes at school only made it worse.

Well, Dustin was sick of it. There would be no more inside jokes he didn't understand. No more apologetic faces when they discussed plans. He was going to game night. If his mom woke up and noticed him missing, she was just going to have to get over it. He refused to let his own life pass him by because she was afraid. 

He ditched his bike next to Steve's car, the kickstand singing metallic at the force with which he snapped it in place. He hustled himself up the steps and onto the porch, shooting furtive glances over his shoulder. They were in the middle of the woods, no nosy neighbors to rat him out, but Dusin still felt hunted by someone's watchful gaze. Perhaps being hunted by the government for a few days had left more lasting damage than he'd previously expected. 

Throwing open the door with more strength than he'd intended, Dustin blinked as the light enveloped him. From the yard it had seemed cozy and welcoming, but now it stung his eyes-- He hadn't risked a flashlight to light his way on the ride here, and now he was paying for it. He recoiled from the doorway, cursing under his breath, and heard more than saw the party draw to a halt at his presence.  

"Dustin?" Steve asked, the Grimm suspicion that they'd all had to become accustomed to clinging to his voice.

"Dustin!" El echoed. At least she was happy to see him. As Dustin's vision cleared, El threw her arms around his neck, and he stumbled further back into the darkness. Behind her, Max hovered, staring off into the night to make it clear she wasn't waiting for a turn-- Of course, when El stepped back after a final squeeze, she didn't back away when Dustin pulled her in, either. She tucked herself under his chin, briefly letting herself rest against his shoulder before backing up. 

Both the girls beamed up at him, one brighter than the other, and Dustin was left with the dizzying thought of what his younger self would think of how easy it was to touch and be touched by El and Max. And, also, how little any of them seemed to care about it outside of what little comfort they could bring each other after the summer. Romance had seemed incidental, if relevant at all-- Dustin and El's newfound intimacy had very little to do with her breakup from Mike, and Dustin found himself lounging in Lucas's lap as often as Max, when they weren't in public. Hell, basketball season starting was the only reason that Dustin wasn't throwing himself at Lucas right now. The further their other friends slipped away, the tighter they clung to each other. It was more than a little odd, but Dustin wasn't surprised that their sense of propriety was more than a little warped. Look who they had for role models. 

Said role model was standing in the doorway, peering down at his charges. Dustin couldn't see Steve's face in the shadows, but he could imagine the frown that had taken his mouth. Stress lines had already begun to settle in around his mouth, years too early, the expression so common that even his smiles carried echoes of it. "What are you doing here, bud?" 

"I came for game night!" Dustin said brightly, as if it wasn't the first time he'd ever shown up to the cabin on his own. Or after 9pm, for that matter. 

"Uh," Steve grunted, that pissy little squint of his settling in. Always willing to throw Dustin under the bus in order to remain the favorites, Max and El ducked back into the cabin, giggling. "Does your mom know you came for game night?" 

Steve was a pretty terrible liar, but he was distressingly good at figuring out when Dustin was. There was absolutely no tactic that worked on him every time; Dustin just had to pick a really good one and hope that Steve was having an off night. There was one that worked more often than not, but Dustin tried not to use it too often-- Not just because of Steve, but because of his new ever-present shadows, Eddie and Robin. Even now, they blinked at Dustin from Hopper's couch, not even pretending to be interested in something else. Even on his worst nights, Steve wouldn't miss a pattern with three brains working on it. 

Blustering, Dustin decided the best way to not get caught in a lie was to not answer at all. Instead, he took a page out of Steve's own book, mirroring his pose-- Hands on the hip and all. With exggeration in every movement and word, Dustin leaned in, mocking, "What do you think, genius?" 

"I--" Steve began, and halfway through the sentence seemed to realize he didn't care all that much. Maybe Steve had finally remembered he had done his fair share of sneaking out, or maybe he was just tired. Either way, in that moment of hesitation, Dustin knew he had him. "Yeah, alright," Steve sighed, then turned, gesturing for Dustin to follow him. "Come on in."

Max and El were on the floor in front of the couch. They had pushed the coffee table out of the way and replaced it with a box of Clue, the pieces scattered across the floor. The actual board was still folded, halfway out of the box, and El was hunched over the worn cards, examining them carefully. "You're just in time to help me teach El the rules," Max said, with a smile that said Dustin would be doing all of the teaching. 

"I'm going to play the red lady," El said, not listening. Her fingers stroked Miss Scarlet's portraits, obvious envy in her voice. "She has such nice hair." 

Robin leaned over, humming as she examined the card. "Steve could probably help you do yours like that." 

Steve glanced down at the card, frowning even deeper when he saw Miss Scarlet's teased curls. "Maybe when she's sixteen," he said, every inch of Hopper's disapproval in his voice, which obviously really meant 'never in a million years'.

"Steve, come on!" Max whined as El pouted up at him, both of them suddenly very invested in Steve's dedication to El's haircare. He ignored them with all the practice of a professional older brother, throwing himself onto the couch between Robin and Eddie. Immediately, he and Robin started talking about whatever boring grown up argument they'd been having before, but Eddie's eyes lingered on Dustin for a moment longer. 

His eyes said that they absolutely knew what Dustin was up to, and that he was choosing to ignore it. It was probably the only help he was going to get from anyone when it came to deceiving Steve, and Dustin chose not to push it. He mouthed a quiet 'thank you', then nearly tripped over himself trying to claim Professor Plum before Max could snatch it from him. 

They got halfway through a game before the door opened again, spilling their warmth out into the chilly autumn air. Chief Hopper's voice boomed through the small cabin, the beloved owner's words echoing through the space, cutting through laughter and arguments. The magic was wasted on nothing much at all. "Oh great," the echoes said, "a bunch of kids in my house." 

Dustin blinked up at Chief Hopper, looming over them all from the doorway. He was in uniform, the brown monstrosity that made him seem at once incredibly silly and largely intimidating, and holding a stack of pizzas that nearly went over his head. Dustin blinked a couple more times, and the pizzas didn't fade. 

Weird. 

While Dustin was... intellectually aware that Chief Hopper was now the adopted father of his two best friends, Dustin had yet to be adjust to that, uh, emotionally. For most of his life, the Chief had been a vague and mysterious form of authority, more of an icon than a human, and his mother and peers had warned him equally to stay out of the Chief's way. As Dustin grew older, the warnings grew with him, until Will's disappearance had turned the Chief from a distant warning to a very present adversary. 

It had been difficult to let that resentment go, even if Dustin had left most of the anger to Mike. It hadn't helped, either, that none of them had any idea that the Chief had been keeping El safe for almost a year-- It had been a revelation on a night of revelations, turning into a knot of confusion and emotion. Will is in danger again, you have a new big brother, the Chief is a wonderful father and also a liar. 

Excuse him if he wasn't exactly comfortable in the man's presence. 

Especially not, Dustin thought while every muscle in his body locked with fear, when he wasn't supposed to be here. 

Dustin was the only one disappointed to see an adult in the room, apparently. Greetings flooded the room as Dustin's mouth went dry, El and Steve's the loudest. Eddie even waved, remarkably chill for a man who had spent so much time in the back of the Chief's cruiser, although it might have something to do with the arm Steve currently had draped over his shoulders. Hard to be scared of a man whose son had latched onto you like a limpet, Dustin guessed. 

"Yes, yes, hello to the children who are supposed to be here. What the rest of you doing here?" Belying his harsh words, Hopper put a gentle hand on Max's head, large palm praticially enveloping her skull. She beamed up at him, but the Chief had moved on, his eyes now locked on Dustin. As the target of swiftly narrowing eyes, Dustin got the vague impression he had just interrupted some fatherly ritual he didn't understand. "Especially you, Henderson."

"Um," Dustin croaked, squirming. He searched desperately for a lie that would hold up under Hopper's narrowed gaze, but to his shock, the man barely held his gaze for another second. 

Rolling his eyes, Hopper visibily dropped whatever suspicion he'd had about coming home to Dustin on his couch. "Whatever," he said, echoing Steve with eerie similarity, looking to the other kids. "Time for dinner. Who wants vegetarian?" 

"Awesome!" Max crowed, El brightening beside her, but Dustin swallowed around a lump in his throat that told him he hadn't made it out of the woods, yet. 

Dustin ate his pizza-- surpreme, of course, with one slice of jalapeno and ham that Eddie had bullied him into trying --slowly, not liking the way Hopper and Steve kept looking at him. If this was what having a dad was like, Dustin was glad he'd missed out; Their gazes were knowing and unflinching, and while Dustin wasn't afraid, he felt bare and stupid. What was even worse was that afterward they'd look at each other, having a silent conversation through their eyebrows and shoulders. It was a language that Dustin hadn't even known Steve could speak, a language that seemed to be bestowed upon every parent the moment their child was born. Steve hadn't had any kids, and he didn't understand spoken language most days, but it didn't stop him from keeping up with Chief Hopper. Dustin watched his head bob in Dustin's direction time and again, and chewed crust that tasted more like cardboard. 

The moment the last piece disappeared behind Dustin's lips, Steve and Robin already leaping up to help clear the paper plates scattered across the table, Hopper stood. His chair scraped across the floor with a loud sound that had the rest of the gathered party pausing in their own movements; Dustin wasn't sure how the chair knew it needed to announce the importance in the set of Hopper's shoulders, but it had certainly gotten the message across.

"Alright," the Chief said, adjusting the belt around his stomach. "It's getting late. Dustin, I told your mom I'd take you home when we got done eating." 

Dustin swallowed. Had an olive gotten lodged in his esophagus at some point? Breathing felt suddenly out of his reach. 

"What?" El asked, a sharp frown on her face. "He didn't even get to play any games with us!" 

"Sorry, Janey. His mom's rules come first," Hopper said. He did look genuinely sorry about it, at least until his gaze found Dustin's again. He saw the iron return to the man's eyes and had to struggle not to reveal the way his heart raced in his chest. "Say goodbye, Dustin." 

"Bye, everyone," he said mechanically, wincing when he heard the shake in his own voice. 

"We'll see you at school next week," Max said, with a small, awkward smile. It didn't make Dustin feel any better, really, but it did remind him that whatever happened next, it wasn't like his mom could take school away from him. 

"See ya, Dusty," Eddie said, waving behind Steve's back. "Sorry, man." 

Not sorry enough to stand up for him, apparently. 

Dustin sulked out of the cabin, followed by the Chief's large, looming shadow. He hesitated for just a moment beside his bicycle, only to scurry away when the man gave a low, displeased grunt. Waiting by the cruiser door in silence seemed like the much safer bet, actually, Dustin decided. His bicycle could rot here, for all he cared at the moment-- Living was much more important.

"I should make you sit in the back, the way I used to make Steve ride back there when he was a dickhead," Hopper said, mostly mumbling as he fished his keys out of his pocket. "Actually, I've had Eddie back there a time or two, too. Maybe you need some better role models, Henderson."

Answering seemed like a bigger mistake than sneaking out had been. Every word of that had felt like a trap, either throwing his friends under the bus or digging himself deeper into Hopper's ire. He'd never been great at keeping his mouth shut, and the habit of letting his mouth run away from him had only gotten worse now that he had Steve to back him up-- The fear of Claudia Henderson, though? That was more than enough to keep him quiet. 

Dustin could feel the nerves causing subtle changes in his body as he waited for Hopper to unlock the passenger door. His teeth elongated and shifted texture, and he pressed the rough edges against his tongue until he could taste iron. Fur sprouted on fidgeting fingers. 

Hopper seemed to take his silence as a cue, because once Dustin was safely in the car, the man didn't speak another word. That was worse, somehow. The silence pressed in on them as they rolled slowly through the forest, and Dustin couldn't help that his gaze kept returning back to Hopper's blank, stern face. Had they ever spent this much time alone before? Surely not, and surely not enough to be silent with each other. Dustin had only just barely reached that level with Steve, a guy Dustin had all but made his emergency contact, and that was only because the school had refused to accept the paperwork. 

Somewhere in the back of Dustin's mind, he was vaguely aware of what Hopper was doing. He'd never been arrested before, unless you counted the brief run-ins with the federal government as resisting arrest, which according to the agents who had so passionately argued with Dr. Owens-- Well, whatever. Dustin had never been interrogated before, was the point, but he had seen movies. He knew that silence was just as persuasive as intimidation or a kind word and a cup of coffee. He knew the game Hopper was playing, and that was half the battle. He wasn't going to fall victim to such a stupid trick. 

Except he absolutely was, Dustin thought with his stomach in knots. He wasn't a hardened criminal; he was a freshman. He hadn't even had his fourteenth birthday yet. Of course he was going to break. The only thing left for Dustin to do was try not to reveal too much when he did. 

He barely made it to them same road before his control over his mouth snapped like a twig, the words tumbling over his tongue and out of his mouth. "Are you really going to tell my mom?" Fuck.

"Well, kid. I feel like I should," Hopper said, slowly. For the first time that night, Dustin could see that Hopper felt as awkward about this conversation as Dustin was. He was all but squirming in his seat, shifting awkwardly as he frowned out at the road before them. They both would much prefer Dustin was having this conversation with Steve, probably, but Dustin's mom didn't open the door when Steve knocked anymore. Which was the whole reason Dustin had to sneak out in the first place. "Seems like the kinda thing a mom should know." 

"You can't!" Dustin said, fully aware he sounded like the whining child he had always tried to avoid becoming. He had kept his cool through being hunted by federal agents, through attacks by eldritch dogs, through his best friends being drug to Hell and back. So much had happened in the last few years, and while the rest of Dustin's friends only seemed to improve from year to year, he could feel himself swiftly reaching the edges of his abililty to take random bullshit. 

"Oh, can't I?" Hopper asked, amused. The grin tugging on the edges of his mouth only twisted the knife in Dustin's chest further. 

"No! It'll--" Dustin swallowed, heart pounding so fast he thought he might throw up. "Fuck, Hop, are you trying to ruin my life?" 

Hopper sighed, shaking his head as he muttered, "Teenagers are so dramatic, Jesus." 

"Oh, sure, all parents are good and perfect," Dustin spat, crossing his arms around his chest. He wasn't being dramatic. Steve flipping out when someone broke his favorite mug was dramatic. Eddie writing a dirge for his favorite wornout cassette was dramatic. Freaking out because your mom was trying to lock you up for the rest of your life wasn't dramatic. "Why don't you call Steve's folks and tell him who he's hanging out with these days?" 

"Your mom is not Sophia Harrington, Dustin. Stop it." 

Hopper wasn't wrong, and the look he shot Dustin said he knew it, but Dustin still avoided his gaze.

"Yeah, but she--" Dustin ground his jaw, wincing at the sound the beaver teeth made in his mouth. "She's awful." 

"She loves you, and that's more than Steve ever had--" Hopper began, but Dustin cut him off with a shout. It was short and incoherent, barely more than a grunt of frustration, but he just couldn't take it anymore. 

 Guilt had already settled into Dustin's chest when he'd made the comparison; He didn't need Hopper to tell him he was out of line. Steve's mom was an even touchier subject than his dad. Whatever was going on there was much lonelier than fear or anger.

The fact of it was, though, Steve didn't matter right now. Not to Dustin. His only mistake had been bringing it up. Sure, Steve had a bad mom-- But everyone else had great ones. Even El, with no mom at all, got brought under the wing of Joyce Byers and Susan Mayfield. Where did that leave Dustin, quietly suffering alone, with no one to talk to about it? Why, because Steve had it worse? Steve wouldn't want that for him, Dustin knew that, and he wasn't about to accept it, either. 

"I'm not allowed to have friends, I'm not allowed to have a life," Dustin gasped out. With a distant horror, Dustin realised that tears had begun to well up in his eyes, but his body was spiralling swiftly out of his control. There was very little he could do, only double over, clinging to the door, as he tried to regain some composure.

Hopper's stern, detached voice only made things worse. "You disappeared for almost a week this summer, she's allowed to--" 

"She says terrible shit all the time about my friends, and everyone just passes it off as being strict! It's not just Steve and El, it's people she's never even met. You didn't even hear the stuff she said about Jeff and Gareth's families. I don't even--" Dustin choked, drawing to an end with a shuddering breath. Hopper was quiet as Dustin tried to catch his breath, chest heaving. He was still listening when Dustin continued, "I don't even recognize her anymore. The past two years have been... That's not my mom, Hopper. I don't know who she is."

Hopper's silence stayed firm even when Dustins' words finally drew to a more natural end. With a sinking heart, Dustin was sure that Hopper was just going to keep ignoring him all the way home-- That he was going to turn into ever other adult in the world and pretend that everything he didn't like wasn't happening. It would be so disappointing, Dustin thought, to know that Steve and El had been through so much and all they had to fall back on was someone who didn't listen. 

Blinking back tears, Dustin turned away from Hop, leaning so far into the door that his face pressed into the cool glass. Two could play at that game. He didn't have to listen, either-- When the lectures came, he would just let it all fade into background noise, focusing his mind on the swiftly moving lights that danced across the window's reflections. 

When Hopper eventually spoke, however, there was no lecture to be found. 

"Did I ever tell you that I went to school with your mom, Dustin?" he said, instead. Dustin peeked over his shoulder at him, but Hopper wasn't looking at him-- His eyes were still firmly on the road, though Dustin could see that his hands were clenched so hard around the wheel that his knuckles were turning white. 

"No," Dustin said, suspicion coloring every word. "We're from Chicago." 

"Well, that's where she went to college-- where you were born --but she grew up right here with me and Joyce. She was... " Hopper paused, as if unsure of how to explain himself. "Different, then, I guess. A real bright girl. Too good for a couple of outcasts like us, probably, but she acted like she didn't notice. Her and Joyce were something to see, always getting into problems, asking questions. I don't think either of them were afraid of anything at all, back then." 

Dustin tried to imagine his mother getting into trouble and couldn't quite manage it. Every attempt only ended with his mother being the one to do the scolding, to point out the danger. "Are you sure it was my mom?" he asked. "That doesn't sound anything like her." 

Hopper snorted. "Yeah, kid, I'm sure." 

"Then what... happened to her?" It wasn't just the way she acted; Dustin couldn't remember a single time his mother had talked fondly about the people of Hawkins. Chicago she loved, but Hawkins was nothing more than a prison to her, something she chose because the walls would keep them as safe as it kept them isolated. "The way she talks about Joyce-- The way she talks about everybody--"

Hopper shrugged. "I know she met your dad in college, and they settled down there permanently when they got married. She dropped out of college and joined a nursing program, instead. Spent a lot of time with your father's family, from what I heard. Joyce was worried about her, going through the same motions herself, but Claudia was happy. They lost touch after that, but she sent word when you were born. Joyce was thrilled; She was pregnant with Will and had been so afraid that Claudia would never have the family she wanted." 

Nothing abou this made any sense. Everything Dustin had ever known about his mom, about his own life, was in direct contradiction with what Hopper was saying--  but then, how many times in the past few years had Dustin's entire world view been challenged by one conversation? How many times had his mother told him something he knew was untrue, simply because she thought it was for his own good? 

"My mom told me my dad didn't have any family. It's just me and mom," he said numbly, because surely she wouldn't have lied about that. Surely she wouldn't have kept a family from him, one that she apparently had loved enough to turn her back on everything she'd ever known. 

"... I reckon that's still true," Hopper said, awkwardly. His eyes flicked towards Dustin again, just once, as if gauging how he was taking gaining and losing a family within the span of a few sentences. "When your-- When your dad passed, Claudia showed back up in Hawkins. She moved into her parents' old house, and when we asked, she said she didn't have anywhere else to go. We tried to get her settled, but it never really took. I don't know how much you remember, but we couldn't even convince her to let you leave the house until you were five or six. Took even longer for Joyce to convince her you were healthy enough to go to school." 

"I didn't know Joyce was why I stopped homeschooling," Dustin said, head spinning. He'd always assumed the doctors had convinced her; That it was always a part of the plan, and the homeschooling had been them waiting for his body to catch up. "I never even met her until Will invited me over." 

"Claudia only let her in the house if you were upstairs. Never saw anyone else come in or out, either. Joyce was thrilled the first time you came over. Lonnie was afraid she'd never let you go home." 

Had his childhood really been so restrictive? Dustin remembered feeling lonely, sure, but he had always just attributed that to being a sick kid with no friends. The idea it was something that his mother had forced on him left him feeling slightly sick to his stomach. He could have known Will for years.  He could have had even more time with someone he might never talk to again. The games they could have played together-- The conversations they could have had-- Dustin could imagine a world where he and Will were just as close as Mike and Will, as close as Lucas and Dustin were now. 

The more he thought about it, the more the idea ached. If he and Mike had met then, would Mike have been less willing to cut them all out after last summer? Would he have stayed the way they needed him to? Would Dustin have been able to save his friends the way he couldn't now? And if all that was true, what else had his mother kept from him? 

He didn't want to accept it. As much as Dustin resented his mother's attitude towards the people he loved, he had never thought that she would turn that anger towards him. She had never done anything to hurt him, not knowingly, anyway. Until now, he had always thought she was just... misguided. He was suffering under her love, that was all. It happened to people all the time. But if what Hopper was saying was true, was Dustin wrong? Was she keeping him safe by taking away everything that could ever make him happy? Did she even care? 

"And she never told you why?" Dustin said, the lump in his throat shredding his voice to reedy, pathetic pieces. "She never... She never told you how my dad died?" 

"No," Hopper said, his voice softer than Dustin had ever heard it. "You?"

"No." 

It was, apparently, another thing she'd thought he didn't need. 

Silence took over the cruiser again, both of them unsure of what to say. Dustin was sure if he asked any more questions he would burst into tears halfway through, and Hopper-- Hopper kept looking at Dustin like he knew it, like he was afraid anything he said would break Dustin into tiny pieces. Dustin was so tired of being thought of as something fragile, but he had to admit that he felt like it, for the first time in his life. 

He felt like thin, warped glass, the edges of him already turning back into sand. 

"I do have a theory, if you're willing to hear it," Chief Hopper said eventually. Dustin hugged his arms around his stomach, holding tight. He wasn't sure that he did want to hear it, actually-- He wasn't sure he could live with knowing more truths about his mother. But Dustin had never been good at ignoring his own impulse for answers, even when it might be the death of him. 

"What kind of theory?" he asked, stomach sinking before he even heard the answer. 

"You know, Steve has been sharing a lot of that Wesen stuff with me, "Hopper said. "Stuff he thinks would be useful in my line of work when he can't be around. I'll admit most of it doesn't make sense to me, but I remember one thing about you beaver folk." 

"Eisbibers," Dustin corrected, on instinct more than any offense.

"Yeah, whatever," the Chief said, waving his hand in a way so reminiscent of Steve that Dustin almost smiled. :Anyway, Steve's grandpa says that the beavers are big on family. They live in big groups, and when two families mix they often become one big family. According to him, there's one family that makes up half of a small country in Europe. The way I see it, it's... a problem there's only two in Hawkins. You understand me?" 

Not really, Dustin thought, but the unease in his stomach only settled in further. 

Hopper sighed. "Maybe just give your mom a little grace, alright? I'm not exactly thrilled with how she's been talking about my kids, either, but sometimes people have a reason to be a little paranoid." 

Dustin wanted to protest, wanted to point out that he'd seen worse than his mom ever had, but something held his tongue. He wasn't sure what it was, exactly, but a voice in the back of his head kept hissing at him. Was he sure? Was he really sure that his mother hadn't seen anything worse? Dustin tried not to follow that voice any deeper, tried not to consider what would make an Eisbiber leave her family behind. 

If there was even any family left to have. 

"Yeah," Dustin choked out, squeezing his eyes closed. 

Silently, Hopper pulled to a stop. Dustin could feel the sway of the car, the small bump as Hopper pulled up onto the sidewalk-- A small crime done with the confidence of a cop. It took a few more seconds for Dustin to get the courage to open his eyes, but Hopper waited, not speaking. 

When Dustin finally peeked out the window, he didn't like what he saw. Mrs. Morgan's prized dahlia's stared back at him, dulled by the moonlight, an ominous sign that they had finally reached Dustin's block. In a few short yards, they would be at his house-- And if his mom caught him, or if Hopper forced him to explain, there would be hell to pay. She wouldn't hurt him, of course, probably wouldn't even yell-- But somehow that made it all worse. If she freaked out a little more, maybe Dustin could properly hate her. Instead, she would just stand there, saying horrible things in a calm voice that made his stomach turn. 

"Alright, kid, here's what we're gonna do: I'm gonna park right here, and you're gonna walk the rest of the way home," Hopper said, his voice soft. "Tell her or not, it's up to you." 

It was more than Dustin had expected from him. "I thought I was in trouble." 

"I trust you to make the right call," Hopper said. 

And wasn't that a guilt trip and a half? 

Dustin knew he was right. He should tell his mom the truth, if only because she seemed to struggle with the concept herself. He couldn't be mad at her, couldn't demand answers, if he was sneaking around, too. He would have to be brave. 

Pulling himself out of the cruiser with shaky limbs, Dustin nodded at Hopper one last time. It had been a weird night, but the man had at least tried. He wondered if this was what Steve had felt like, when Hopper first started reaching out to him-- But no, that was different. Steve needed a dad, had craved one. Dustin had more parental presence than he knew what to do with. 

He walked the last block home, the pressure in his head growing with every step. Dread rose higher in his throat until it pooled on his tongue, tasting of bile, but his determination grew stronger with it. He unlocked the front door, gritting his teeth until he felt a snarl settle over his face. He needed to not be himself when he faced her, needed to be someone stronger. Someone braver. 

He envied Steve's ability to mask himself in words and gestures, but it wasn't something Dustin could learn-- And definitely not in the next five seconds. 

Dustin's mother was exactly where he left her. Claudia Henderson was at the kitchen table, reading one of the many books that Dustin wasn't allowed to look at, much less touch. She sat, as she always did, in the only chair that gave her an unimpeded view of the front door. Which, of course, meant the moment Dustin walked through, she saw him. 

He watched shock then fear settle on her face and squared his shoulders, waiting for her to strike first.

"Dusty, you--" Her voice wavered, pitching up into a frightened warble that made Dustin wince. "Have you been out all night?" 

It was hardly what he would have considered all night, barely 11 pm, but he knew what she meant. "Yeah, mom." 

Claudia rose, her clothes swirling around her as frantic as she had suddenly become. She cleared the space between them in a moment, her hands gripping his shoulders. "Where? What were you thinking? Do you have any idea how dangerous this place could be for you--" 

"I do, actually," he said. Very few in Hawkins knew it better. "Do you?"

"Excuse me?" 

Dustin sighed, feeling not for the first time like the only adult in the room. "Look, mom. We need to talk." 

As if sensing the shift in the dynamic, Claudia pulled herself up to her full height, staring down at her son with a clenched jaw. Her approximation of sterness meant nothing to Dustin, all too aware of the way her eyes still darted from place to place. As if, somehow, Dustin might have brought the danger home with him. As if him sneaking out to spend a night with his friends wasn't a danger because he might get hit by a car or might be drinking, but because the sin itself would mean monsters lurked in the darkness. 

"There's nothing to talk about except the fact that you're grounded," Claudia said, and Dustin looked up at her with pity. 

"Alright," he said, willing to go along with it if it made her stop shaking. "But I still need to talk to you." 

The fear seemed to turn to frustration in half a moment, and Dustin watched color flood his mother's face. "What could you possibly have to say to me right now?" she demanded. "What could make this better? Better yet, what couldn't possibly wait until morning?" 

"... I want to be able to go to Hopper's and hang out with El and Steve," he said, because he deserved it. Because she deserved to hear the truth of what he wanted, even if she wasn't willing to give it to him. "They have game nights every Thursday, and I miss--" 

"No," she said, disgusted and betrayed-- As if Dustin had hurt her by even asking. 

"Mom, they're my friends," Dustin said, trying to stay calm. His throat still ached from holding back tears in Hopper's car, but he didn't feel like crying now. He couldn't afford it, not with Claudia shaking in front of him, so near tears herself. He couldn't remember the last time he had cried in front of his mother, couldn't remember the last night he'd trusted her enough to take care of him if he couldn't take care of himself. 

"You have no idea what Wesen like them are capable of, Dusty!" she said. Her fingers dug into his shoulders so deeply now that Dustin bit his lip to keep from jerking away. "I know they seem like your friends now, but when you're older, you'll understand." 

"I do, though!" Dustin said, because his had already friends done wonderful, terrible things, and it had only made him love them more. "I've seen what they're capable of, and they've never once used it against me." 

"For now!" Claudia finally let go, sending Dustin rocking backwards as she stomped back into the kitchen. She filled a glass of water with shaking hands, and Dustin wondered if she was trying to hide her anger or her fear from him. 

"I don't--" Dustin sighed. "What do you think is going to change?" 

"Mind my words, Dustin," Claudia said, voice grave."If you keep running around with predators like that, they'll kill you."

Scoffing, Dustin trailed behind his mother, asking, "You think El is going to kill me? That Steve is? Come on, Mom, you've met them."

"Yes. And I've met hexenbiests before. They always seem pleasant until they're cursing your bloodline," Claudia said. The calmness she wore from day to day was nowhere to be found, every inch of her consumed by the nervous dramatics that she had passed on to Dustin. She almost reminded him of Robin when she got like this, tongue sharp and hands flying. He watched her slosh water all over the kitchen counter as she gestured angrily. "Oh, I've also met Mr. and Mrs. Harrington. They're a delight, I assure you. I still wouldn't spend a moment alone with them! I definitely wouldn't trust them alone with you, Dustin. Imagine what could happen!" 

"Steve isn't his parents," Dustin said. The louder his mother got, the quieter he found himself becoming-- He had to force himself not to mumble, now. Every word threatened to die in his throat. 

"You can't change genetics, Dustin. There's thousands of years of murder in his DNA, and I'm not going to trust his control over his instincts with your safety," Claudia said. 

"Fine," Dustin agreed. "Then I want to join Hellfire next year." 

Claudia paused, sitting the half-full glass down on the counter. "What?" 

"It's a DnD group run by Eddie Munson, and--" 

"A Munson?" Claudia's voice was sharp with shock, bordering on a shriek. "You may as well play with a rabid animal, Dustin. Sweetheart, listen to yourself--" 

That stung more than anything she had ever said about Steve or El. They were dangerous, had the potential to take out all of Hawkins if they put their minds together, Dustin just knew them well enough to know that they wouldn't. To talk about Eddie and Wayne like that was another thing entirely. They were good people. Sweet in a way that Dustin had rarely seen in his short life. A family like the kind you saw on TV, always there for each other, family dinners and talking through their problems on the front porch. They weren't the kind of family that adults approved of, but they were the kind that ever kid wanted to be a part of. 

It seemed like profaning something holy to call them animals. Eddie, especially, seemed unfair. He was just a kid. A kid who was technically older than Steve, sure, but a kid all the same. Not only would he not hurt Dustin, he probably couldn't if he even tried. Eddie was good, and brave, and had saved Steve in ways that Dustin hadn't even known that Steve needed saving but he... He had fought and killed less than Dustin had. It was like calling a baby a monster, at the end of the day, and Dustin could barely hide his disdain for the thought.

"He's friends with Steve and Robin, and he's really nice," Dustin said, the words falling short of explaining everything Eddie meant to him and their group. "There's also other prey species in the group, and I think it would be good for me--" 

"I don't even know why the Harringtons allow Wayne and that whelp to stay in Hawkins after what his father did," Claudia continued, ignoring Dustin's clumsy pleading. "Honestly, if anything good comes from Steve and him running around together, it'll be that the Harringtons finally run them out." 

Dustin's blood ran cold at the very thought. Since finding out what Steve's bloodline really meant, the Harringtons had been little more than a vague horror story, a monster people told their kids about in whispers before bed. He'd hoped they'd never come home in the same thought as wondering if they were even real, and half the time Steve seemed to think of them the same way. They were a distant threat, looming over the town but never touching it. Hopper and Steve had a plan, after all. What did Dustin need to worry? 

The idea of the Harringtons actually hunting someone-- Someone that Dustin loved-- Someone that Steve loved-- sent Dustin's stomach into spirals so tight he thought he'd be sick. He couldn't fathom it. He'd been hunted before, watched his friends evade capture and fight against monsters and the government alike, but the Harringtons were... Grimms they might be, but the Harringtons were just people. Eddie was just a boy their son was friends with. 

He couldn't imagine the ways it would break Steve's heart. He couldn't imagine the ways it would shift the dynamics of their group, of the entire town. He couldn't imagine the way it would destroy him, shifting the foundation of his entire life to watch two of his closest friends to collapse in one fell swoop like that-- And if Eddie left, if Steve fell chasing him, then what would happen to Robin? To El? To Max? To Lucas? With all his friends falling like dominoes, what would Dustin have left? 

And his mother wanted it to happen. All but prayed for it, here in the holy quiet of their kitchen.

"You know, you have a lot of guts calling my friends murderers when you're the one wishing death on people." The words fell from Dustin's mouth, cold and sharp as the ice she'd lodged in his heart. 

Claudia looked at her son, fear and anger fallen away to reveal blank, dark eyes that stared at him for a long moment. "I've had enough of you tonight, I think," she said, and her voice sounded tired. "Go to your room." 

Dustin went, stomping all the way. She was tired? Her? She had no idea. No idea at all. The shit he went through everyday, the shit she was just piling on him further--

Halfway up the stairs, he heard her voice call out. "I hope one day you understand that I'm doing this for your own good." 

His only answer was the slamming of his bedroom door. 

There, alone in the dark, Dustin promised himself that he wouldn't give up. This wasn't over, not by a long shot. One day he'll be able to hang out with El and Steve again. Eddie would be a harder sell, probably, but he should be able to hang out with Steve in the next two or three years if he keeps his head down and plays his cards right. Maybe he should start hanging out with Eddie's prey friends, Dougie and Gareth, she would chill out more? What could be so scary about an otter and a turtle? 

Dustin sighed, and sat on his bed. 

The real problem was his mother's fear. That had to be fixed before they could start rebuilding Dustin's life into something approaching normal. Maybe he would never find out what happened to his dad and their family, but he had to start somewhere, and that was the only lead he had. 

He threw himself back, arms spread across his covers, staring up at the dingy glow in the dark stars. His mother had helped him put those up, carefully placing each one according to Dustin's careful instructions, until they had a perfect representation of his favorite constellation. She had loved him, once. Probably still did, in her own way. And somewhere beneath all the resentment and hurt, Dustin knew that if he was lonely, his mother had to be drowning. 

Maybe his only way out of this was saving her. 

Dustin closed his eyes. He would do everything he could, these next four years. Anything to make her less afraid to be alive, to walk the streets of Hawkins and smile and have friends again. And at the end of it, when he finally had a diploma in his hand and more freedom than he knew what to do with, he would either have his mom back or... 

Well. He would be able to do whatever he wanted, then, wouldn't he? He would have more than enough family to not notice the hollow in his heart the shape of Claudia Henderson.