#orion goes to college

[undeadorion]

It's wild how the right teacher or the right format for information delivery is the difference between night and day.

Last spring I took a class in JavaScript. I really liked working with it, but I struggled super hard with a lot of stuff in it. The usual teacher had taken a break from teaching so I had a guy who was teaching it for the first time.

He was terrible at communicating anything in general. He would ask the class a question and you may as well have flipped a coin to determine if it was a prompt for the class to participate or if he was asking genuinely and didn't know the answer. He punctuated sentences with either a short huff of a nervous laugh or muttering "does that make sense?" To the point that it was damn near impossible to follow what he was actually saying.

Then there was his material. There was no textbook. Just the content he gave us. There was a requirement of several classes for this one, yet he approached it as if we had never touched any programming ever. Then explained things so poorly, even I couldn't figure out what the fuck he was trying to teach us. On over half the assignments instead of showing us a different but similar way of doing the project, he'd just straight up give us the answers and do it for us.

I continued trying to work in JavaScript, and to learn more after finishing the class. But with such an unstable foundation, I floundered pretty damn hard. I was getting more and more frustrated because I felt like I was the failure and I'd never make it as a web developer, because JavaScript is king these days. If I couldn't easily use this language, would I ever get anywhere?

Well, come this spring I had a slot I needed to fill to maintain full time status, but I'd signed up for all of my remaining required classes. While poking through the catalog at the last minute to see if I'd over looked something I hadn't taken yet, I saw NodeJs in the description for the new version of the class. The past teacher hadn't even mentioned NodeJS (an extension of JavaScript that runs on the server).

So I signed up to retake it, despite getting an A in the last class, and thought I'd have to wait a while to get to anything I hadn't learned yet.

BOY WAS I WRONG!

Stuff that just flew over my head the last time around were presented in a way that made sense. And in just a few sentences. I could easily see how and where I would use the thing we were discussing rather than struggling to grasp even what it was.

I'm sure part of it is an extra year's worth of experience helping guide some of that understanding. But it's the difference of seeing something through glass, when before it was more like small holes drilled into a block of wood.

[undeadorion-archive]

This term has been both frustrating and mindnumbingly boring. That is until the final project for one of my classes when it became infuriating.

The class was pretty straightforward: Server Management. In which we learned how to manage a server through a terminal interface, installing everything from web servers to wordpress, and manually configuring everything. It was the easiest class, too. The teacher just did everything, then we were supposed to repeat what he did ourselves.

The final project what to just put it all together, with a partner. One ran the server side the other did the database side. Then each would make a video on what they did in their perspective roles. I hate group projects but it was only an afternoon's worth of work and we were given about 3 weeks total to get it done.

I was assigned a partner who needed a little help. He was behind in the class and the teacher assumed he just needed some guidance to understand concepts. I'd been doing quite well with a study group in another class, so I agreed.

It turned out the student didn't need help. He just wanted someone to mooch off of. We had a total of 8 modules spread across 11 weeks. Each module had just 2-3 assignments each, all but one of all assignments were shown in lecture. For as forgetful as I am and for as horribly sick I was this term, I managed to get everything in. If not exactly on time, very minorly late (a few hours to a day). And in the final 2 weeks my partner was still on module 3.

I know what it's like to feel utterly lost in a topic and anyone you ask for help treats you like an idiot. So I was prepared to roll up my sleeves and get this guy at least up to the modules that were needed for the project.

And the first question he asked as "Could you just install this for me so I can move on?" Installing that thing WAS the assignment. I thought maybe he just lacked social skills for one reason or another. So I explained why I couldn't. He kept asking weirdly vague, broad questions that I quickly realized boiled down to "give me a direct, personal walk through and tell me every command to enter."

The biggest problem? That's literally what the teacher did in lecture. Every single assignment, he just showed you everything. So I would direct him to the lecture.

Eventually it got a point that I worried about the project. There were only a few days left, and this guy had barely gotten through 1 1/2 modules. So I talked to the teacher and we made arrangements so I could get the project done without penalty and still leave an opportunity for my partner to do his part.

Then that very night, my partner pulled something that sent me through the damn roof. He outright said "let's just set aside the tutoring thing for a bit, and you just give me the answers I need to get up to speed or else I'm dropping this class." It was litterally the last day before finals week.

I called his bluff. Not only did I say "absolutely not" but told him he was on his own for everything, including the project. I gave him a full write up of what he needed to do and what I'd done. I even included which assignments to reference to know what to do.

He didn't respond for several days. Then, 2 days after the project was due (I'd turned it in 3 days prior), he comes to me and offers to talk to the teacher for me to make sure I wasn't penalized for his inaction on the project. Even though I'd made it crystal clear that I'd done so already. I'd given him documentation about it, too.

He then proceeded to argue with me. Saying that it was his "philosophy" that tutors should just give people the answers. And that it was just my "opinion" to disagree with him. Ignoring that in the middle of this whole process I was hired by the school to be a goddamn tutor for the whole program I'm in. I may have only just started, but the very first thing they teach is how you fucking tutor by guiding, not giving answers. They outright say you're not to walk students through everything.

He came back again today, asking me to help him with the project. Asking me to give him a "quick rundown" of what the project was about. After telling him already in that conversation and at least 3 times prior that I would no longer be helping him, he outright asks if I was done helping him.

Now, you may have gotten this far and thought this was some 17 or 18 year old kid. It's Fall term. It's probably his very first experience outside of high school. I thought so, too. But no, he's been in this school for 4 years before this term. It's the start of his 5th year.

Remember. While setting boundaries is difficult, it's more important that you maintain those boundaries. Even when someone repeatedly tries to force their way through them for their own self interest.

[scoops-aboy86]

Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Stranger Things

combine your first real fandom with your current one to create a terrible, terrible au

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (X)

Chapter 10 : [I] was angry that my trust could not repose in the clear light, like poetry or freedom leaning in from sea

Hi! Here is another chapter! Today: lots of misogyny, the academic world being what it is, and some time spent at the beach with our best boy Elwood!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 4344

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Oysters

Our shells clacked on the plates. My tongue was a filling estuary, My palate hung with starlight: As I tasted the salty Pleiades Orion dipped his foot into the water.

Alive and violated, They lay on their bed of ice: Bivalves: the split bulb And philandering sigh of ocean Millions of them ripped and shucked and scattered.

We had driven to that coast Through flowers and limestone And there we were, toasting friendship, Laying down a perfect memory In the cool of thatch and crockery.

Over the Alps, packed deep in hay and snow, The Romans hauled their oysters south of Rome: I saw damp panniers disgorge The frond-lipped, brine-stung Glut of privilege

And was angry that my trust could not repose In the clear light, like poetry or freedom Leaning in from sea. I ate the day Deliberately, that its tang Might quicken me all into verb, pure verb.

Seamus Heaney, Field Work, 1979

Lunchtime with Andrew and Colm had turned into lunchtime with half the department somehow…

You were tired, you wanted to go home. A few weeks into teaching, you were already starting to feel the familiar tug of exhaustion. You had a thousand things to prepare for your research, books to read, articles to go through… And Andrew and you were still trying to fight against Sam and Frank’s marriage the best you could.

After the flower fiasco, out of which Andrew had managed to gain a moment of glory and a longing gaze from Sam, the two of you were working on a way to make you shine in Frank’s eyes. The perfect gift to offer the couple as they were moving in together seemed a good occasion. You had spent most of your evening the previous day browsing the internet with Andrew. He had come over to your place, had left well after midnight, didn’t want to disturb you by sleeping in the second bedroom. And you had fun, that was the strangest part of your evening. You had fun looking for gifts with Andrew, it had turned into finding the most ridiculous items available for purchase, and you had laughed until your eyes watered at his silly jokes. It was a sad thing to realise this had been the more you had laughed since Frank had left you…

You had stopped listening to the on-going conversation about a writer you didn’t know, your mind wandering away from your lunch to settle back on the previous evening. You were beginning to pick on some of his habits, noticing details about him. He hummed a lot, he tilted his head when thinking, ran his fingers through his hair when he was focused, he rubbed at his neck, his chin, his cheek when he was nervous or uncomfortable, pushed up his sleeves often too. Last night, when the conversation drifted away from your exes and onto the last museum you had visited, his head was tilted, his gaze stern and unwavering while he listened intently to you. It felt strange, to be near someone who listened to you so fully. Frank didn’t…

Your heart and chest grew warm at the memory of Andrew getting ready to leave. After midnight, he made a joke about the Gremlins when you offered him one last drink or bite to eat before he would leave, feeling guilty for your conversation and planning to have robbed the two of you of a decent dinner, your stomachs filled only with biscuits and coffee. He was putting on his coat when he joked about making a mess of your apartment if you fed him now, you both laughed at the silliness of it. You waited for him to wrap a warm scarf around his throat, to cover his ears with a beanie.

“Good night, Andrew.”

Simple words, and yet they made him look at you. You noticed the way his head bent a little, as if leaning towards you. His eyes were so green at such an ungodly hour, tiredness making the brown of his eyes recede. He offered you a shy smile, fidgeting with the sleeves of his warm grey coat.

“Andy.”

You stared at him in silence, surprised by his answer. His smile widened when he went on.

“Andy’s just fine, Y/N.”

You could only smile up at him then, you noticed the way his cheeks were flushed when you repeated his name.

He was so cute…

“That’s a little too much though, this whole thing about a feminist rewriting of history. To give classes about that… what a joke…”

Patterson’s words tore you away from your happy memory, pushed you right back in the present, in the reality you faced daily. University was not as progressive as it longed to be seen as, you were a painful witness of that…

You remembered the list of names Andrew had spontaneously given you during your first week. You reckoned his selection was spot on. Patterson was no exception. Mahoney was nodding enthusiastically, and you chose to ignore them. You were too tired, too emotionally exhausted to go through that kind of misogynistic conversation. You forced yourself not to listen to Andrew’s and Colm’s answers as they entered the debate, defending your side.

But then Andrew looked at you, spoke your name, and you were forced into reality again.

“Asking for help because you’ve run out of arguments?” Mahoney asked Andrew, and it was supposed to sound like mockery but it was too bitter for that.

“Y/N is literally an expert in what we’re discussing and a woman, don’t you think you should listen to her rather than your stupid biased views on such a matter?”

“I know plenty about the matter.”

“What a misogynistic answer… thank you for proving my point about your absolute ignorance.”

“And you’re an expert?”

“I’m not. That’s why I ask someone who’s dedicating her life to the voices of women and who is a woman when discussing something about women.”

Andrew’s breathing was heavy, his eyes stone cold and sharp. You had only seen him angry once before, that night you had learnt about your exes’ engagement. It made his voice deeper than usual, a low rumble that was scarier than the loud booming voice Frank used during arguments. His impressive stature wasn’t helping. And yet, when Andrew turned to you, his eyes were soft again, his voice back to its usual warmth, and he didn’t seem intimidating anymore.

“Do you want to add something?”

You didn’t, but the conversation was happening, and fleeing would only result in more violent views being expressed next time. So, you sharply looked over at your two mocking colleagues, and got to work.

You countered every argument, you offered numbers and examples even though you knew it would make no difference. After a while, you were getting angry more than annoyed. Colm and Andrew were backing you up every now and then, but the rest of your colleagues seemed uninterested by the debate at best, at worst they were enjoying the argument.

You let out a wry chuckle at Patterson, who was now not even trying to find arguments, but straight up rejecting your facts.

“How scientific of you to dismiss proven facts simply because they don’t fit your narrative…” you fought back with sarcasm, and he glowered at you. “And you call yourself an academic?”

“Hey! I’m not attacking your professionalism…”

“Are you not? As Andrew said, I’m the expert in this field. I am studying this issue and the impact of misogyny and patriarchy. And yet, you dismiss all my arguments without any proof whatsoever, without offering another explanation. You are only rejecting facts that do not fit your view of the world, or to be more precise, the world that brings you in a position of power over others. You enjoy the system that favours you instead of favouring everyone.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You are ridiculous, claiming to have arguments when all you have are thoughts and no facts or proof whatsoever. I do have those. You’re a misogynistic man who clings to his tiny bit of power and feels emasculated if anyone dares to contradict him. You’re pathetic.”

You shot up, standing in a hurry and grabbing your stuff before heading back to your office. You didn’t pay attention to the discontented grumble that followed you, nor the scratch of another chair being pushed away from the table. You didn’t notice Andrew was following you until you were outside the room, heading for the stairs to go back to your office. You turned to him with a surprised expression painted all over your features.

“Andy?”

“Hmm?”

You stared at him in silence for a moment.

“You’re okay?” he asked with warmth in his voice and gaze.

“Yeah… I’m okay. I’m used to it.”

You didn’t like lying, but it was only half a lie. You were used to it, it happened more often than you had expected when you had chosen this career. You thought that the world of knowledge was a progressive one, a world filled with open minds. What a fool you had been… how naïve…

Now, you were growing numb to it, to some extent. The animosity was never far away. The attempts at slowing down, blocking, or even ending your career were a threat too. And you wished you could say you didn’t care at all by now, but you did. You did, and it drove you mad how frustrated you felt in front of such injustice, over the weight that was put onto your shoulders, over the exhaustion that came with constantly having to prove yourself, over the doubts that slithered there through your system even if you tried not to listen. It was the hardest part of your job, by far.

And then there were a few good ones like Andrew who gave you faith in humanity all over again.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, rubbing at his neck.

“It’s not your fault. On the contrary… thank you, for taking my side.”

“Of course.”

“And thank you for asking me. For including me in the conversation. For recognising the need to put me at the centre of the argument, instead of a male voice.”

You let out a chuckle as you opened the door of your shared office.

“I bet your mam taught you well.”

He grinned, fondness evident in his eyes as he talked about his parents. You had noticed how love was always in his gaze when he spoke of his family.

“Yeah… trying to put in practice what she taught me.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ll never have to thank me for something like this.”

You tried to ignore how much that fight had shaken you, but you could barely focus all afternoon, and Andrew seemed to notice. It was still early when he turned off his computer and grabbed his coat, then planted his tall frame in front of your desk.

“Come on, let’s go to the beach.”

You stared at him with a blank stare, blinking.

“The beach?”

“Lunch got me worked up… I can’t focus on anything. I need to clear my head, and to me, there’s no better place for that than the sea. So… come on! Let’s go to the beach!”

“I have work to do.”

“You’ll work tomorrow.”

“Andrew…”

“Andy,” he corrected you with a warm smile, and you couldn’t refrain your own grin.

“Andy,” you repeated. “I’ve got things to do!”

“Yes! And they include breathing the fresh air of the sea, listening to the waves and having fun!”

“And freezing to death? It’s November… in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I haven’t forgotten… I go swimming almost every morning.”

You stared at him with unfaltering eyes.

“You’re insane.”

“I need to go home first, but we can meet up by the coast? I know a nice spot.”

“Okay.”

“Do you like dogs?”

You raised a surprised eyebrow at his question, it was coming out of nowhere.

“Erm… yes… of course…”

“Good. I mean… I have to get my dog. He will never forgive me if I go to the beach without him.”

“You have a dog?! How cute! What kind of dog is he?”

Andrew chuckled at that.

“I don’t know… some kind of mix between a border collie and… something else. I have no clue.”

Your expression softened as you smiled. He looked away, his cheeks turning a bright shade of pink under the darkness of his beard.

“Alright, I’ll text you the address of the nearest village, and I’ll guide you the rest of the way.”

“You’re not about to murder me and get rid of my body in some deserted creek, are you?”

He laughed at your joke, bright and loud, and you were quite proud of that, of being responsible for such a sound.

“No guarantees…”

“I should decline then…”

“Hey! You need to live a more adventurous kind of life! Take risks!”

“You could be planning on feeding me to your dog.”

“Now that you mention it, he hasn’t had his ration of human flesh this week.”

“See? That’s what I’m saying!”

You both laughed, Andrew shook his head fondly at you.

“Elwood is a good boy, don’t worry. I won’t be long.”

You were shutting off your computer as well when Andrew exited the room.

You had hurried to the tiny village, spotted a shop and were now motionless in the middle of the aisle, staring at rubber bones and colourful balls.

Andrew should have reached the village fifteen minutes ago, but you were starting to get used to his chronical lateness. He seemed to never be on time for anything. “Time blindness”, he called it. Whatever it was, there was no need to worry. He would show up eventually, apologise profusely, with a mix of guilt and embarrassment on his face, and then you would tell him it was alright because you couldn’t find it in you to be annoyed at him, and he would look at you again and smile…

You smiled as you reached for a squishy ball, with little flowers painted on it. Yellow and white. Daisies.

You bought the toy, went back to your car to wait for Andrew. He arrived almost thirty minutes late, hurried out of his car and secured his dog on a leash before walking over to you. The guilt and embarrassment you were expecting were painted all over his features, indeed.

“I’m sorry… it took me longer than I thought to pick this one up,” he explained with a nod towards his dog.

“That’s okay. And God, you’re adorable,” you said to the dog, crouching down to let the dog approach you. “What’s his name?”

“Elwood.”

The dog seemed to immediately like you, he let you pet his head, wiggling his tail in delight.

“Oh, yes… you’re a good boy!” you cooed. “Here, I’ve bought you something!”

You stood straighter again, offered the ball to Andrew.

He stared at you with bewilderment.

“You… you bought him a toy?”

“Yes! I love dogs! I hope I can have one, someday…”

“You… you shouldn’t have…”

“It makes me happy.”

Andrew couldn’t find any argument against that.

“Thank you.”

You headed towards the beach together. Elwood was obedient yet excited, clearly recognising where you were heading. It was sunny despite the cold weather, you readjusted your scarf a couple of times, put on your gloves after a while. And it was easy to find a topic of conversation with Andrew. First work, your classes, your research as you reached the beach. Then politics as you walked across the sand, sending the ball away for Elwood to catch and bring back. Then movies and art as you watched the waves roll towards you. And then your broken hearts when you were sitting in the sand, side by side, watching over Elwood who was running around by the edge of the water.

The sand was soft under your fingers, your gaze set on the horizon, an infinity of blues and greens, of white waves and the moving shapes of seagulls.

“Are you coming to the dinner next week?” Andrew asked, his deep voice breaking the quiet of the cold sea.

You heaved a sigh, closed your eyes for a second. Frank and Sam had invited both you and Andrew to have dinner in some expansive restaurant in Dublin. A way to ‘get a brand-new start’, Frank had called it. You thought it was rather a new way to get your heart broken, but you didn’t have a choice. If you wanted Frank back, you couldn’t miss any opportunity to see him.

“Of course, I’m coming.”

You opened your eyes to look at Andrew as he slowly nodded.

“I’m glad you’re coming,” he confessed. “I was worried to go on my own.”

“Don’t worry. We’re a team for this! We said we would help each other out, and we will. We’ll get the people we love back.”

Andrew smiled, a gesture grateful, but tainted with sorrow. He set his green eyes on the horizon, you watched as the loose curls that had escaped his man-bun were floating in the wind. But then you followed his gaze, stared at the wildness of the sea, its everchanging shape, and you wondered if anything was meant to last in this world, if anything at all could be called permanent…

“What’s going to happen, then? If we fail, if we can’t get them back, if they really don’t love us anymore… what will happen then?”

Andrew was silent for a moment, staring at you now. You could feel his gaze set upon your face, but you couldn’t look at him. It was easier to search for where the sky met the sea.

“Then… we’ll go through hell.”

You let out a long exhale. His voice was quiet, barely there over the wind. Deep, calm, aching.

“We’ll suffer. A lot. And eventually, we’ll get over it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“I don’t think that I could love anyone else the way I love Frank.”

“We don’t have to love them the same way we love Frank and Sam. On the contrary, I think every love we feel is unique. It’s shaped by the person we feel so intensely for. I’ll never love anyone the way I love Sam. But maybe I’ll be able to have a love that’s just as important. It will simply be… different.”

“Missing him feels like grieving.”

“Hmm… Missing her feels like grieving too. It’s the same kind of… void. The emptiness that’s left behind. The silence, the habit of opening your mouth to speak to them, but remembering they’re gone, that there’s no one left to listen to you now, and closing your mouth again… a mouth that’s rendered useless now, as there is nobody left to listen to you anyway.”

Slowly, you nodded, feeling your throat tightening at the pain in Andrew’s voice, at the way his thoughts echoed your own.

“I forget that he’s gone all the time,” you nodded, sniffling, although you weren’t crying. “I just… forget… and then I remember, and it hurts all over again.”

“Yeah… me too.”

The wind was so cold, it felt like knives entering the skin of your cheekbones. You readjusted your beanie so it would perfectly cover your ears. Every time either of you spoke, a tiny cloud was born from your lips, and died in the wind.

Andrew’s dog was unaware of your sadness, unaware of the hole that was gnawing a little bit more every day at your heart. He was happy running around the beach, chasing after birds, playing with the waves.

You smiled, soft and sad and filled with the want to forget again.

“I really like your dog a lot,” you chuckled.

Andrew looked at his pet as well, a tender smile on his lips.

“I’m glad,” was his only answer.

“He’s a good boy.”

He hummed softly, rubbing at his cold hands.

“I don’t think Sam likes him very much.”

“Really?”

“I don’t think she likes dogs in general all that much. She was always nice to him, don’t get me wrong. But I don’t think she loved him. When I do. I love him. He’s family.”

“Of course, he is,” you answered with an unmistakable fondness in your voice, one that made Andrew look at you again.

You could feel him shifting next to you, guessed that he hesitated to ask a question. You encouraged him to ask whatever he wanted. You were in a confessing mood, after all.

“What’s your dream?”

You looked up at him with a questioning look, surprised at his question coming out of the blue.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you have a dream? Or… did you have one? When you were younger?”

You blinked up at him, feeling silly as you thought of an answer.

Of course you had dreams. You had tons of them.

“I’ve learnt a long time ago that dreams don’t come true.”

He frowned at your answer, his gaze saddened at your words.

“If you could make one true, what dream would it be?”

You blinked tears away, set your gaze on the sea again.

Blue. Blue and splashes of white. A thousand hues of those colours, as far as the eye could see. Such a beauty… And the sound of the waves reaching the shore, curling into white foam, regular like a pattern, soft like a melody.

“I really wanted to be loved for who I am. I just… I would really like for someone to love me. To care about what I think, to care about what I have to say, to hold me when I feel sad. I just… I would really like to feel safe, just once. To have someone… who would treat me as their equal, someone for whom I wouldn’t have to overthink each answer, someone with whom I wouldn’t have to fight to have a chance to be listened to. Sometimes I… It’s so hard to be a woman sometimes. It feels like I’m always fighting. Fighting for my rights, fighting for a chance to be who I want, fighting to be listened to, fighting to be taken seriously, fighting to get my life together, fighting to meet people’s expectation, fighting… for everything. I just… I want to have someone who would make me feel safe enough so I could stop fighting around them. It’s a lot to ask.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

You were surprised by his words, but when you looked at him, his stare was stern and unwavering.

“Did you feel like that with Frank? Did you feel safe enough to be yourself?”

You bit on your lip, hesitated on whether to lie or tell the truth. You didn’t feel like lying though…

“Not all the time.”

You let out a sad chuckle.

“But it’s just a dream, Andy. Dreams don’t come true. I can’t offer to stop fighting. If I do, I’ll just end up giving up… And I’ve done so much already to get my career, to be who I am today… I can’t rest, not when there’s no one to offer me a place to do so. And there will never be anyone to offer it to me. People are too flawed for that.”

You were surprised when Andrew reached for your hand, but you let him touch your skin, wrap his fingers around yours. His hand was so much larger than yours…

“I really wish you could have someone who would make you feel this way. I wish… I wish you didn’t have to fight in the first place.”

You looked up at him, blinking tears away.

“You’re so strong,” he whispered, and there was something close to awe in his expression, although you couldn’t believe that someone could have such feeling aimed at you. “I hope you know that, at least. That you’re unbelievably strong.”

You smiled, and so did Andrew. A genuine smile, that wasn’t so sad anymore.

“What about you? What was your dream?”

Andrew let go of your hand, rested his forearms on his knees as he looked at Elwood, checking that his dog was alright, but he was still busy running after seagulls.

“I wanted to be a musician, once.”

“A musician?”

“Yeah… I used to sing a lot. Played guitar too. I still do, with old friends.”

“What made you decide to be an academic then?”

A pause, filled with Elwood’s happy barks, the distant cries of seabirds, the regular whisper of the sea.

“There were sacrifices to be made. I didn’t want to make them. I thought I could, for a while. I had a few opportunities. But they were all… They were not me. There were talks for an album at one point, an opportunity for me to sing and be paid for it. But they wouldn’t have been my songs. They were pop hits in the making. They were aimed to please others. And I… I didn’t want to do that. I had things to say, and I wanted to tell them my way. It didn’t work out. And then my father…”

He blinked tears away, and you said nothing. He cleared his throat.

“My father had surgery when he was younger. He had some trouble again a few years ago. He’s fine now, and it wasn’t anything serious, but… I don’t know, I think… I thought about the cost that having a life on the road would have. If I wanted to make music the way I wanted to, it would cost me even more than a pop hit would. And I was in love with Sam, and my family needed me, and I thought… I thought it wasn’t worth it. At one point, I had to choose between studying or music. I changed majors from music to literature, finally had the opportunity to study things I was interested in. I didn’t drop out. Instead, I stayed in Dublin, I gave up on the hope of having a career as a musician.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “More so since Sam has left.”

You playfully nudged him.

“Hey! We wouldn’t have met had you become a rockstar! So, it’s not all that bad! I’m glad you chose a life where we could become friends.”

He looked at you, hazel turning fully green in the pale light of winter, cheeks pinkish in the cold. His nose was a little red, his gaze tender as it rested upon yours.

“I’m glad we could become friends too, Y/N. I’m really glad about that.”

You exchanged a smile, rested your head on his shoulder, wrapped your arm around his. You both remained silent for a long time, staring at the sea, the beach, the birds, Elwood still having the time of his life. And you were content to say nothing, to simply be there next to Andrew.

Your cheek felt warm while it rested against him.

[artsy-hobbitses]

I've seen the headcanons with Megatron (ıt's delightful but i get a little sad at the headcanons involving Op and his blackling disease). I wonder if you have headcanons for Optimus or Strongarm Sideswipe ? 👉👈

By popular demand, please enjoy this compendium of Daddimus headcanons!

Optimue Prime/Omar Parvez used to smoke while he worked in the Dead End (mainly due to the stress), but gave up the habit when he was demoted to a dockworker.

He's the long-suffering mediator between the souls of the twelve Primes currently locked in the Matrix which he now bears. It's not unusual to hear him seemingly talking to or negotiating with himself, and Prima and Megatronus' catfights comprise the majority of his headaches.

Omar doesn't like being called Prime, but accepts it reluctantly as a rank. Those close to him only refer to him as Omar, or Optimus on a more formal basis. 'Prime' is who he is to the wider world, and was a rank unwittingly accorded to him by Alpha Trion/Aillard Toussaint. This happened when Aillard, upon facing an increasingly megalomaniacal Sentinel/Sedgewick who was trying to fashion himself as the next Prime and had arrested him under sedition charges for associating with Omar and owning banned literature, told Sedgewick that Omar was "more of a Prime than you'll ever be." That was captured on recording, and went viral very quickly, and Omar was being associated with the rank 'Prime' at a time when he was still using 'Orion Pax' as a codename. Optimus ('the best' ie. 'the best of us'), was co-opted by his supporters to counter Sedgewick's attempt to fashion himself as 'Sentinel Prime', defender of order. It's not until Omar comes back from the dead with a strange bauble embedded in his chest that he starts going by Optimus -sigh fine- Prime, to distance himself from his a nickname given to him by a now-enemy.

He has a love for rearing pigeons passed down from his father, who built a makeshift dovecote on the roof of their apartment. The pigeons on Aillard's estate know his face and answer to his call when he goes out to feed them daily. He has each one named and tagged, and even without food, they still flock to him.

He is the imam of the Muslim Autobot prayer congregation which comprises Hotspot/Hassan, Trailbreaker/Tariq, Steeljaw/Salim, First Aid/Fatima, Ramhorn/Raminah, and later on Streetwise/Shamar.

As such with the info above, is usually the first person awake on the base on any given day.

Excellent in the kitchen. Loves making Tapsi (a Kurdish aubergine casserole) for himself as a post-battle treat, but also makes a beef stroganoff bonkers enough that old college buddy Elita-One/Alisa Ivanova, upon finally being able to land on earth after dealing with Liege Maximo's bullshit, immediately hauls Omar into the nearest kitchen so he can make that specific dish for her.

You'll notice that Ratchet/Ronan has a patch of dark skin on one side of his face (Inspired from Osamu Tezuka's Dr Blackjack). As part of his torture when he was captured and held by Bludgeon, half his face was flayed. After Omar rescued Ronan, he donated skin to him for a temporary allograft. However, even at a point where Ratchet was well enough to receive an autograft from his own body, he refused since his body had not rejected Omar's allograft, and he wanted to keep it as it was as a symbol of the deep friendship the two of them share and the sacrifice Omar made for him.

Omar keeps a sketch that Bumblebee/Benjamin drew of him on his desk.

He makes time for Ben whenever Ben is laid up in medical bay, whether it's reading to him, watching his favorite shows he missed during field missions together, or just humming to him until he sleeps.

He's a pianist who plays by ear mostly, and time spent with Ben includes playing during Ben's ballet practice. You can tell what his stress levels are by the tempo of the pieces he's playing---if he sounds like he's setting the keys on fire, he has grievances he clearly needs to work out.

Omar has in his possession the once-beloved water-damaged notebook in which Megatron/Morgan first wrote notes for Towards Peace in---he had wanted to return it to Morgan when he found it outside his precinct station, but was too late as Morgan had already been shipped to Messatine when he came to the mines. For a decade, he kept it with him, and when Morgan came back, he tried to return it. However, Morgan, while grateful for the gesture, refused to take it back and told him to toss it or burn it, as it was "penned by a witless, childish fool", which he wasn't anymore. Omar refused to do so, and it remains in the drawer of his study desk---when he's feeling quietly hopeless, he'll open it up and see the pages where he and Morgan in their youths had drafted ideas together for a better system, and he's back to the drawing board. He refuses to give up on the hope for a better world, or that the Morgan he knew is completely gone.

His mother was a journalist who had experience running an underground publication network in Iran, and it was from her experience that Omar collated and distributed the notes from Messatine written by Morgan, which made up the full copy of Towards Peace. In essence, for better or worse, Omar is the reason Morgan's words spread as swiftly as they did on earth.

He also has a Youtube channel specifically dedicated to a little book club Blaster/Brandon had encouraged him to open up, after Brandon one day invited him to speak on an Autobot radio show and the number of listened spiked significantly. On this channel, he usually reads from a book of the month and discusses its themes/characters, as well as fields questions about his favorite written works in general. He has also at times, chosen books that Morgan enjoyed in their younger days. Whether he knows that Morgan sometimes listens in on him is something he'll brush off, but on the off chance that Morgan does tune in… he still thinks about you, old friend.

Turkish tea fiend.

Green thumb from setting up an urban garden in the Dead End, regularly tends to the communal garden at the Autobot base alongside Sludge/Slavomir and Hound/Hale.

In his early days as Optimus Prime, suffered from internal burns, severe chest pains (he said it felt like the sun burning up in his chest) and shortness of breath after major use of the Matrix's powers in battle. Note that back then, using the Matrix's powers wasn't aways a choice he consciously made, as it treated him like a host and would react to/be triggered by serious threats. The only reason the Matrix stayed in him then, was because neither Ratchet nor Wheeljack could figure out how to safely remove it, and there was fear that despite the way it was affecting him, it was what was keeping him alive and was too ingrained with his neural network to be parted from him.

Per the above, he was actually in chronic pain which he was medicated for and hid very well, up to the point where he finally made contact with the volatile, conglomerated mess of Prime souls in the Matrix during a coma and managed to calm them down/'untangle' them.

There is a little cairn at the roots of largest tree in Alpha Trion's estate where Omar's pigeons most often roost, which he set up for his father, Mirzan, who was killed by his former mentor Sedgewick on charges of disseminating seditious literature. He's never been able to retrieve his father's body and consequently, give the man a proper burial, and he feels guilty about it to this day.

[illarian-rambling]

I've been cooking this in my brain for a while (thanks for the inspiration btw @mk-writes-stuff) and I think it'd be fun to do an Illaros themed ask game, so here goes!

🌠Illari Themed Asks🌠

Questions about characters:

Izjik - How does this character fight? Do they have a particular style of combat, or do they avoid violence altogether?

Sepo - What's something that, without fail, will always make this character angry?

Twenari - Is this character an expert in anything?

Djek - What is the best joke this character knows?

Astra - How self-confident is this character, and how earned is that confidence?

Mashal - Does this character have any major contradictions between facets of their personality?

Ivander - Is this character beholden to a higher power?

Elsind - What genre of stories does this character enjoy?

Avymere - Would you trust this character to run a country?

Faalgun - What gets this character's blood pumping?

Nyda - What did this character want to be when they grew up?

Kaulakri - Does this character plan or improvise? Are they good at it?

Pash - Does this character have a strict moral code? What's a line they won't cross?

Anarac - How does their trauma (I know they have some) affect their mannerisms and behavior?

Questions about the setting:

The Trench - How are criminals punished, and for what crimes?

Seluthena - What is the history of music in this world? How has music changed over time?

Illankas - How many religions are there, and how do they interact?

Unity - Describe a stroll down the street of the largest city in your world.

The Flying City - Have people made it to space yet? What is outer space like in your setting?

Landanium - Are there any diseases unique to this world?

Yewbury - What classes could you find at a college in this world?

Salis - What is the harshest climate people live in here?

Nace - How does organized crime work here? Who is currently on top of the criminal underworld?

Questions for the author (based on things in my writing space):

Playlist - Do you have anything you need in order to focus on writing?

Laptop - By what means do you prefer to write? Computer, phone, handwriting, or something else?

MacKenzie - Give us a picture of your pet if you have one :3

Blanket - What trope are you the best at writing?

Aloe Vera - Are there any skills you have in real life that you've been able to include in your writing? (Ex. chef describing food, martial artist writing fight scenes)

Sketchbook - What do you do to keep yourself inspired when you take a break from writing?

Hope this is fun, maybe? Feel free to send me asks too! I'll put my tag list under the cut :)

And have a bitchin day!

@amandacanwrite @elsie-writes @riveriafalll @kosmic-kore @kaylinalexanderbooks

@bard-coded @carrotsinnovember @patternwelded-quill @somethingclevermahogony @whatwewrotepodcast

@the-angriest-author @mk-writes-stuff @frostedlemonwriter @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @watermeezer

@leahnardo-da-veggie @mr-orion @televisionjester @the-ellia-west @ray-writes-n-shit

@evilgabe29 @trippingpossum @fortunatetragedy @halfbakedspuds

[red-n-ded]

The Ultimate Team-Up (reverse!AU)

Miguel Davidson, also known as Mirage, tries to steal rare 1994 Dodge Viper for money, unaware that it's a young Autobot in disguise with a protective green Dodge Challenger as a brother.

or

A Transformers Reverse AU of Noah meeting Mirage and the Autobots in Rise of the Beasts then joining forces to get the Transwarp key

Ao3 Fic Sneak Peek Below

Miguel Davidson remembers what the world looked like before it all went to shit. He remembers living in a beautiful home under blue skies and luscious green grass with smiling parents.

But that was when he was barely out of college.

Smog and grime fill the atmosphere and the smiles on his parents’ face are lifeless and covered in blood. Manipulated and brainwashed civilians walk the streets cheering the names of Megatron and his Decepticon task force with UniCorp’s face and logo painted on every flat surface on Earth.

For a while, Miguel felt alone in this dystopian world, just messing with officials and stealing cars and technology left and right when. He couldn’t leave all the credit to him, much thanks to his charisma and maybe a bit of help from his hologram tech. At least he's putting his optical engineering degree to some use.

They call him the Mirage, the illusionist thief. Kind of flattering. 

Mirage.

Kind of dumb but it fits.

Luckily for him, he’s not the only one with a dumb nickname.

Benjamin O’Brien, or Bumblebee the young speed demon insists Mirage to call him, was the first friend he made while wandering the 1984-remake environment. They met during a protest and they found each other as roommates when they were hiding.

Months later, they found each other as teammates when the scout convinced his leader, Orion Cullen or Optimus, to let the thief join their rebellion.

Bee doesn’t talk much, both literally and figuratively. Mirage knows a little bit about him.

He’s a few months younger than him, likes 80’s music, hates the Smiths but listens to them 24/7, dreamed of being a race car driver since he was little, and is a scout for the Freedom Racers, followed by stories of raids he led with the yellow Camaro he built from scratch in the racing pits of Optimus’ speedway.

Bee is also mute.

After a year living and working together, Bee told Mirage the story of losing his voice in a riot a few years back. Decepticon member Blaze Sobolov, nicknamed Blitzwing, shot him in the throat, getting multiple pieces of metal lodged in his vocal cords. From that day on, Bee now speaks through a built-in radio and soundboard in his smartwatch with the occasional sign language.

It didn’t bother him before but as time went by, his throat started to get infected, swollen and red. The team feared the worst if left untreated but they’re not in the position to go to the hospital and get help, afraid of getting caught by the Decepticons.

Mirage isn’t willing to wait for Bee’s throat to fully close up and goes out to do what he does best; Steal.

He got a tip that someone is willing to give loads of cash in exchange for luxury cars, specifically ones hiding in UniCorp parking lots. That money will allow Mirage to buy the materials he needs to build a magnet that could keep the metal pieces away from Bee’s throat and temporarily save him. It's only until the revolution is over and they can go to a real doctor.

Sneaking in was the easiest part. A few holograms here and there and he was within seconds. He wandered the parking lot holding a photo of the targeted car, careful to not make noises in the cramped concrete building. Luckily for him, it didn’t take too long for him to find it.

Two cars lay in front of him in the corner of the first floor.

One is a forest green 1970 Dodge Challenger, looking slightly beat up with scratches near the bottom of the metal and the bumpers.

Parked right next to it is a bright orange 1994 Dodge Viper RT/10. It shined as a distinct opposite of the old Challenger. The paint is shined and polished with a brightness that burns his eyes and the metal looks so smooth as if it was manufactured straight out of the factory.

“Goddamn!” He exclaims almost jumping in excitement. Getting this money will be easier than he thought.

“Do you hear that?”

“Shit.” Mirage quickly covers his mouth, realizing the echo from his excitement. Footsteps and mumbles of soldiers made Mirage flinch, quickly crouching down to hide behind the Viper.

The thief muffles his excitement, giddily shuffling towards the orange Viper, brushing his hands over the clean paint, a smile leaking onto his face. He does smell some rust near the undercarriage as he crouches. Mirage worries for a moment that it might affect the price but waves it off. Some air fresheners and a bit of charm could cover it up. 

Ignoring the rust, this car alone would be enough to pay for Bee’s magnet five times over. In addition with the Challenger, which with a bit of paint and buffers, doesn’t look too banged up-

“We’ll check it out later.”

Oh well, one will do.

Mirage quickly got to work. He stands up next to the driver’s seat, pulls out a wire from his bag and snuck it into the lock, pulling it to hear the click of the lock.

“Mirage is in.” The blue-haired rebel whispers, excited to get his ticket to extra cash out of the concrete parking lot. Unfortunately for him, it was quickly short lived when the lock went back down.

CLICK!

For a moment, Mirage was confused but quickly brushed it off to try again.

Then he tries again. And again. And again.

CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!

“You’re a real piece of shit.” Mirage wants to laugh. It’s as if the car is making fun of him, like it’s playing a game that only it knows the rules. Or maybe it just doesn't want Mirage to get inside.

“That’s how you want to play then.” Mirage grumbles, trying to ignore the fact that he’s scolding a car like a naughty child, before pulling on the wire again to get the lock loose. Before the car could lock it back in, Mirage pulls on the door handle to open. 

“Ah ha! Gotcha!”

The thief immediately hops into the navy blue and black leather interior, bouncing on the seat and drumming his palms on the steering wheel. He sits back and lets himself breathe, taking in the mix of bitter iron and new car smell and feeling the plastic of the dashboard and radio.

“Now this is what we call a car.” He mumbles before bending down to hotwire the car, pulling out a piece of the dashboard under the steering wheel to reveal multiple wires hanging out but burnt red and black dust fall from the compartment making Mirage cough. There’s even rust inside? Jeez, who owned this thing? Some car care.

Small sparks light up the dark car as he tries to start up the car with routine ease. The car starts to rumble a bit, waking from the sparks. For a moment though, he sits back up with a smirk to look back at the black and green Challenger, “Don’t get jealous, baby. I’m coming back for you later.”

“NYPD! Come out of the vehicle with your hands up!”

Shit.

Mirage turns towards the window and outside a couple feet away from the car are two police officers, aiming their guns at him with stoic expressions. The thief doesn’t even flinch, rolling his eyes and his cocky smirk returning his face. He rolls down the window and leans his head out the door.

“Hello officers. How may I help you?” Mirage asks with a natural suave, hoping the two will be distracted enough for his two hands to finish hotwiring the car.

The police don’t waiver from his charisma but are confused at his unshaken confidence. “The hell? We said to come out of the car! Or we will engage!”

Mirage laughs but he fumbles the wires a bit faster, “Sounds like the night shift is getting to you. How about we relax, go out for donuts or somethin’?”

One of the officers leaned over to the other, guns still pointing at the thief, “Sir, that’s Mirage. He’s one of the rebel racers. The one with the holograms.”

Mirage’s smirk grows into a big grin, “I see my reputation precedes me. Want an autograph or-”

The car’s radio buzzes to life, interrupting Mirage’s retort. His smile shrinks into a worried stare. The dials spin frantically between different stations before buzzing in white noise. If Mirage listens close enough, he can hear a voice.

“Kris! Bzzt! Kris! Bzzt! Can you hear me?” An urgent voice filters through the static, almost too buzzed for Mirage to translate but enough for him to slightly recognize a few words.

“The hell?”

“Are you listening to me?!” Mirage’s head shot up from the radio to the officers, looking more annoyed than before and slowly creeping up towards the car. “Get out of that car or we will shoot!”

“Screw this. I’ll get you pretty boys later.” The white noise continues to buzz in the back and Mirage, not willing to push any more buttons, rushes to open the door. He grabs the door handle and pushes to open but the sudden noise of the lock startles the thief, even more when the door refuses to open. “What the hell?”

“Kris. Bzzt! Please calm down. Bzzt! Just unlock the doors.”

“Who’s Kris?” Mirage yells amidst his confusion. 

“Get out of the car!” The officers are barely five feet away from the car door and his grip on the handgun grows tighter on the trigger.

“I can’t!” Mirage yells through the glass, banging on the window and kicking the frame, "It won't open!"

“You have three seconds to get out of the car!” One of the officer’s threatened as the safety of the gun clicking.

His original confidence has all but faded away, staring at the two uniformed men with panicked eyes. He’s not going to get caught now. He punches the doors and digs his heels into the plastic interior hoping to loosen the door but the car refuses to budge. It even seemed to flinch at every hit.

“Stop kicking me!” A child’s voice drips out from the car but oddly enough, not from the radio. “Noah! I can’t… I can't breathe!”

Was that a kid?

“Three!”

The green Challenger comes to life as well. The angry-sounding roars of a waking engine thundering so loudly that it made the concrete of the parking lot shake. Mirage and the police officers jump at the mere sound of it. The headlights flash on and the car inches towards the orange Viper ever so slightly.

“Kris, stay with me.” The voice returned, with an accent Mirage recognizes to be Puerto Rican, muffled by distance and no longer coming from the radio but from the other car. The urgency didn’t leave but it sounds gentle, comforting to the ear as the child’s voice starts to hyperventilate. “Please calm down. Cadimus Prime said to stay hidden.” Cadimus Prime?

“They have guns!” The child’s voice cries with a desperate voice that makes Mirage’s heart crack, his kicks faltering at his begs.

“Two!”

“Kritical, listen to me.” The hispanic voice, edging from urgent gentleness to growing fear, and softly grumbling to reassure the other car.

The orange Viper doesn't respond. The wheels begin to squeal and spin so fast that black rubber stained the stone floor like the car was having some kind of panic attack.

“Three!”

Mirage stops kicking the car, his head spins towards the police and hands pressed against the window in surrender. “Don’t shoot!”

BANG! BANG!

[50setsofplayif]

You are introduced as a manager for the college basketball team, but it seems like you've transferred on a messy year.

The team's reputation is at risk after one of its new star players, is accused of cheating in an exam. Your best friend, a sister of one of the players, pleads for your help in finding the real culprit before the team is banned from playing All Star School Tournaments.

You begin to investigate and get to know the different members of the team, including the serious scholar, the charasmatic captain, the laid-back joker, and the brooding outsider. As the investigation progresses, tensions rise among the team members and secrets are revealed as you learn about how deep the rabbit hole goes.

Will you be able to clear the team's reputation before it's too late?

No Demo - Spotify - Visuals - Pinterest

Features

A customisable MC – hair, clothing style- in general, physical features.

Build and repair relationships with a cast of characters from two different schools.

Choose between five RO's to romance or befriend.

Build up your stats! You'll need them.

This game is 18+ due to the basics (swearing, drug abuse and so on) a better description will follow with chapter 1!

ROs

( The charismatic captain: Riley ) : This basketball player is the charismatic leader of the team, with a charming personality and a magnetic presence. He's confident and outgoing, but also has a vulnerable side that he doesn't show to everyone. Lately, he's been feeling the pressure of being a role model to his teammates, and struggling with the realization that he might not be able to achieve his dream of becoming a famous basketball player if his team's reputation is ruined as he's torn between wanting to pursue his dream of becoming a famous basketball player and not wanting to abandon his teammates in the dirt of these accusation towards the new teamate, who are like family to him. How will you help him navigate these difficult decisions? ♥︎

( The serious scholar: Orion ) : This basketball player takes his academics very seriously, and is under a lot of pressure to maintain his high grades from his parents, as he's been threatened to be pulled out if his grades drop, while also performing well on the court. He's struggling with being a perfectionist, and it's affecting his sleep schedule and overall health. He's also worried about the accusations of cheating, as he knows how damaging they could be to his team's reputation. Can you help the serious scholar balance his academic and athletic responsibilities, and clear his team's name? ♥︎

( The laid-back joker: Isaac ) : This basketball player is always cracking jokes and making his teammates laugh, but he's secretly struggling with anxiety and introversion. He feels like he has to put on a happy-go-lucky persona to fit in with his outgoing teammates, but he's really struggling to keep up as he's secretly an introvert with anxiety. Can you help the laid-back joker find his true voice and overcome his anxiety, and find the confidence to be himself? ♥︎

( The brooding outsider: Vincent ) : This basketball player is the team's grumpy player, with a quiet and brooding personality. He doesn't reveal much about his past, but there's a hint of something darker lurking beneath the surface. Some people on campus whisper about rumors of him being involved in bullying in the past, but he's never spoken about it. Despite his prickly exterior, he's fiercely loyal to his teammates and has a strong moral code. How will you help him open up and confront his past, while also supporting him as a valued member of the team? ♥︎

( The enigmatic transfer: Eli ) : This basketball player is the team's enigmatic transfer, with a mysterious and elusive personality. He's new to the team and the college, and doesn't reveal much about himself or his past. After his first exam, he was accused of cheating and it's tarnished his reputation on campus. He's been keeping a stoic persona to avoid any further scrutiny, but he's struggling with the weight of the accusations against him. How will you help him clear his name and find the truth behind the accusations, while also getting to know him better and unraveling the mystery of his past? ♥︎

[inexplicablymine]

WIP WEDNESDAY

It is the first WIP WEDNESDAY of 2024 and in preparation for the start of the new year I have something fun for you!!! All of my WIP posts going forward into this next year will be for multichapter works that I have coming out sometime in 2024.

So for today, a current shortlist of multichapter works coming out + some little snippets

Giftmas

12 fics of Giftmas: 9 one shot works left to post that will resume in a “10 days of posting in a row” festivities once I am settled into my new home in a new country after a very abrupt move over the holidays

Looking for Orion

6 CH | art by @okayandre_art

5+1 Alive Arthur fic, five times Henry had important conversations with Arthur while hunting for Orion and one time Alex did. You can read my snippet here.

Olympic Proportions

3 work follow up | art by @noodles_and_tea

follow ups to my fic Because I’m A Scoundrel following the boys on their Olympic journeys to Paris 2024 (in real time) with the qualifying events and the Olympics themselves

Mind Over Matter

14 CH | Canon Divergence

Magical Mindreading AU; when Alex is granted the gift of being able to hear thoughts about him from those he is most compatible with, everything goes… slightly different.

Sweater Weather

9 CH | Letters Focused

Childhood Best Friends to Lovers over the course of their first year in college on opposite coasts as D1 Soccer players (yes it is football I know, apologies, they are playing in the US)

the ties that bond us

10 CH | art by literally almost everyone (not kidding)

Bond/Q actor AU following the boys over the ups and downs of shooting and promoting a new Bond trilogy and the epistolary view from the outside world as they get together!

[Redacted] co write with @celaestis1

15 CH | Dual POV

Strangers to Lovers AU, what happens when you don’t have that DTR, and the hilarious differences in the understanding of “what are we”

Ice Ice Baby

37 CH | Zukka | ATLA | art will be commissioned by @jasminedragonart

Olympic Figure Skating AU that follows the gangs journey over nearly a decade in the limelight. Yes that’s right. A full length ATLA work that has been outlined for 2+ years. I figured it was time. ;)

[redacted] for The Pairing

… yes that’s right I already have an idea for a work 👀 can’t wait to get my hands on the book and languish in it

Thank you to everyone recently for the tags in the end of year games ~ I have just complied them ALL below both as a thank you for tagging me and a tag back + some amazing wonderful people I would like to see how you are doing in this new year <33 (also open tag PLS SHOW ME THE THINGS!!!)

I am in the middle of an abrupt move and have not been as present taking care of those pesky real life things that adults must partake in.

@absolute-audacity @adreamareads @affectionatelyrs @alasse9 @anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @arand0mdutchgirl @athousandrooms @babiemonk @celeritas2997 @cityofdownwardspirals @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @cha-melodius @14carrotghoul @dumbpeachjuice @daisymae-12 @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @gayrootvegetable @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heartitinthesilence @historicallysam @hypnostheory @iboatedhere @indomitable-love @kiwiana-writes @leaves-of-laurelin @matherines @nontoxic-writes @orchidscript @onward--upward @peachesobviously @read-and-write- @rockyroadkylers @raysletters @smc-27 @saintlynomenclature @suseagull04 @songliili @three-drink-amy @tintagel-or-cockleshells @treluna4 @vonpeepsisback @welcometololaland @xthelastknownsurvivorx @zwiazdziarka

And there are more but I am limited by tagging conventions shakes fist

[gravesung-moving]

quick and dirty bios for the unseen's inner circle (the sanctum)!

bc i just remembered sage and fletch are the only unseen creatures i actually have bios for.

*note — by default, these descriptions apply to the unseen as they are in shelter island. some details are subject to change based on verse. *note 2 — each member of the sanctum has a self-chosen tarot card that's left behind as a "calling card" at a particular job they claim responsibility for. in place of a stolen bounty, on top of a body, etc.

acheron ??? (he/him) — the poisoner

the emperor

dilf

calm, collected, honest but in a kind way. pretty emotionally intelligent.

as a rule, never pries into other people's business. lane = stayed in.

has a son who's in college rn! on good terms with his ex-wife.

ex-safecracker/bank robber

he makes poisons! has a little lab and everything

occasionally fletch will pull him out of retirement and make him go crack a safe. he complains about his knees

norah suman (she/her) — the engineer

the sun

lesbiab

has had a secret crush on seph for a couple years. designed her arms from the ground up, and the first point of contact when something goes wrong or seph needs a redesign/upgrade

dry humor, very blunt and often sarcastic

eyebrow piercing

habit of chopping off her hair when she's sad

makes the gadgets. makes explosives, modifies weapons, invents new shit, always thinking about new ways to do stuff. engineering as an art and a science at the same time.

also an up-and-coming tattoo artist!

orion aisa (he/they) — the forger

the moon

seph's twin brother

not a great fighter, hates using guns

eyepatch over his right eye. fletch took it when he and seph tried to escape as teenagers, along with ripping seph's arms off, which is a very normal and cool and chill reaction to have

trans lad. top surgery, took testosterone for a few years but then stopped. pretty satisfied with where he's at right now

excellent painter

suffers from hand tremors, though they fade when he paints

hector dionísio (he/him) — the muscle

the wheel of fortune

unpredictable and violent. unhinged.

will be having a drink with you and then at a hair-trigger provocation, he'll just turn around and start kicking the shit out of someone

scarily good fighter, way too fast for his muscular build

no one knows why fletch trusts him to be in the inner circle and not rat on them

unexpectedly very reliable as a teammate. he does his job very well

fixated on seph in a "constantly riling her so that she'll fight him whenever he wants" way

fixated on edith in a "why can't i land a hit on you. come here" way

pit fighter. so far undefeated

cody shimura (he/him) — the accountant

justice

the most guy ever

he's so tired.

retired hedge fund manager, went into crime because he did some digging, realized the finance industry was already in fletch's pocket anyway, and his ability to stealthily uncover those secrets impressed fletch enough to hire him on.

tries to be a plant dad but he keeps killing them

surprisingly well-trained with a gun

occasionally pulls out the most scathing one-liners in the quietest and calmest voice imaginable

sage / VECTOR (she/her) — the driver

the world

technomancer (arcane hacker)

pokemon superfan

harvard dropout

a pretty normal person, generally, probably the least traumatized out of the crew

can summon cars / motorcycles made of, essentially, compressed/hardened demon souls sourced straight from hell

also has normal, non-summonable cars / motorcycles that she likes to augment and fix up with norah's help

has a giant fluffy dog named Baby

fucking Maniac behind the wheel. the dog's name is a reference to baby driver for a reason.

if she knew about @tewwor's vector alias, she would make them matching shirts

edith winter (she/they) — the thief

the hermit

sneaky. quiet. wow shocker

fey changeling who's lived on earth their whole life, but is in contact with the human child they replaced

raised by wolves a gang, sort of collectively alongside her parents. it takes a village yaknow. they all had a hand in training her to be the insanely skilled thief she is — edith was probably the most valuable piece on their board, even at a young age

said gang was absorbed by the unseen and scattered across the world for resisting said absorption. one of edith's parents was killed in the conflict, the other was sent across the world but she doesn't know where

no one knows if they're bitter about it or not. they don't talk about it

acheron taught her how to crack safes

caro vitale / deadfall (he/him) — the fence

the hanged man

owner of the black stag, a bar and antique shop just at the northern edge of the city where metropolis meets highway meets forest.

can sell anything to anyone

no one knows a single thing about this man except for the fact that he's fluent in italian. he WILL lie if you ask him anything else. caro vitale is also not his real name

he got that thang on him (a club)

tattoos everywhere

ishal king (they/them) — the doctor

death

fae nephilim (an angel fucked an archfey and produced a very strange kid), exiled from the autumn court for death crimes before going into the human medical field as a surgeon.

nearly got arrested for experimenting with nephilim blood (their own, but whatever guys), faked their death, joined the unseen. now works happily and privately for fletch in their silly little lab.

mushroom garden

medicinal plant expert alongside their knowledge of modern medicine

ominous positivity

anah tannar (she/her) — the spy

the lovers, reversed

you know her! you love her! she's probably broken your heart!

local celebrity influencer

resident honeypot for any woman-attracted target

prefers to be flashy and stand out, but also insanely good at blending in and being invisible when need be

serial dater. never lets anyone too close, but loves to have a web of one-way connections to people who think they're her best friend or favorite ex, and/or owe her a favor (she has a book of debts)

a genuinely compassionate person underneath it all, she just leaned hard into her manipulative side after being used one too many times

persephone aisa (they/she) — the assassin

judgement

first lieutenant/right hand to amari fletch, and thus second-in-command to the unseen itself

sharpshooter, beat-upper, gunfighter, knife-swinger. if john wick can do it, so can they

cold, aggressive, hostile. deadly as fuck. if you follow this blog you probably came from hers so i won't go into too much detail SJDKHJKSD

amari fletch (they/he) — the leader

the tower (also the name they're publicly known by)

i swear they're not secretly thousands of years old i swearrrrr (yes they are) (they cheated death in a game of dice and bear the mark of cain for it)

think gus fring, netflix wilson fisk, silco — that type of person

spidery motherfucker, aka has connections eeeeverywhere. so many judges, cops, government officials in their pocket.

for the most part, fletch is satisfied with the world the way that it is. the unseen profits nicely, they have as much power as they need, and no one fucks with them (if they even know it exists)

if someone does fuck with him and his, however, he will not hesitate to make a violent and chaotic example of them for the rest of the world to see.

calm and levelheaded 99% of the time. 1% of the time, off-the-wall destructive

will take risks if they can see a benefit and the consequence of failure won't fuck up their plans.

extremely powerful in a fight (is not human) with enough raw strength to fully charge straight through a building wall by wall if they wanted to. but they don't. lmao

seph is their protegé (????) (i genuinely don't have a term for their relationship it's so fucked up and hard to describe), & they are very very possessive about it

[themickey]

mickey headcanons

when she first came to the house at 11, she knew very little english since growing up and going to a mostly french candian school. eliza was one of the first to try and bridge the gap because of her language skills

her accent went down over the years in woodrow but since moving back to canada four years ago, it's come back stronger so for the funeral, yall have to imagine an annoying french canadian accent when she speaks

mickey views richard as her dad because she never had one and pretty much imprinted on him

she never truly came out as a lesbian to the other wards but it was veryyy obvious. she used to steal the older boy's clothes when they went off to college before richard allowed her to shop in the men's department. she used to have much shorter hair, first cutting it off when she was 17 but has let it grow out to her current shag haircut in recent years

jessica was her first girlfriend. they met in college when they were 20 and started dating when they were 21

her and jessica have an orange tabby cat named bob. bob cat hehe

she first became obsessed with space when her grade 5 class had to do a project on the space race

her favorite movie is the 1995 hit apollo 13. she saw it in theaters 5 times and begged richard to add it to the household movie collection, which he of course did

she and esti were academic rivals growing up because they were both really good at math and science and when esti went off to college the year before mickey, she was sad to no longer have her as a challenge

natalia helped mickey with her english and in turn mickey helped natalia with her math

her favorite constellation is orion (this is also my own favorite lol)

she considers reece her best friend even if she is not reece's. reece used to get mickey in trouble for teaching her bad words in english and telling her they meant something else. she was always getting dragged into reece and dante's trouble because she liked being included

reece was also her first kiss when they were both realizing they like girls but mickey cut it off when it started feeling weird the more she viewed everyone as her siblings. she never told the others about this though

she mostly goes by mickey because she hates the way americans call her michelle instead of michèle

she wasted a lot of her allowance growing up on buying comics and video games and doesn't care about fashion which is why she looks and acts like a perpetual teenage boy

she got accepted into MIT but the idea of being so far away from home scared her too much so she decided to go to richard's alma mater instead to stay at home. she officially moved away in 2001 when she accepted her job in montreal

[showstopper35]

King of the Hop (A Megatronus x Orion AU)

a/n: I am weak at heart and mostly wrote this to deal with my own problems so…enjoy. Free therapy for both of us. Swearing ahead. Also, @plutoids-thoughts this is now dedicated to you.

An AU in which TFP is set in a college universe…with a twist. This is the story of Orion Paciano, the greatest ballroom dancer in his class. And when one aggressive, angry student is accidentally placed in a ballroom class, shit goes down. 

“You’re stepping with the wrong foot.” Orion gently corrected him and stepped back for them to start again. 

“Everything I do is wrong. This is so stupid.” Megs cursed under his breath, wanting to rip off the tight ballroom shoes and storm off. But he gritted his teeth and awkwardly gripped his partner’s hand again. Orion curled his fingers around his hand, and Megs had to fight to not look at their hands. 

He had danced with him so many times, but he could never get used to that sensation. Orion’s hold was gentle, but Megs knew that the second he messed up again he would grip tighter and push until Megs’ legs would follow Orion’s. Why the hell did his hands have to be so warm? 

“Left turning box, are you ready?” 

“No.”

“Shut up, you’re ready.” 

They turned, and Megs would have stumbled to the floor if it wasn’t for Orion sliding his hand down Meg’s back so that he stayed upright. Unnecessary, in his opinion. 

“Step back and to the si-yeah, you got it that time!” 

He got it? 

Megs looked over to meet Orion’s smile. It was slightly crooked in that sweet, hopelessly nerdy way. He should smile more, honestly. People with nice smiles-

“Now do it five more times.”

Megs decided it wasn’t that nice of a smile after all. Nope, perfectly ordinary. Annoyingly smug at best. Fuck you, Mr. Ballroom. He let go of Orion’s hand and let out a long-sufffering sigh. He closed his eyes and rubbed his arms, groaning. His muscles could get surprisingly sore from this class. 

A small chuckle from the other male caused him to open one eye. Orion’s eyes were twinkling, and Megs felt an unwelcome prickle of heat creep up his neck. Probably just because the ballroom classroom was always hot and stuffy, right? 

“I know it’s hard. My first semester was rough.” 

Megs scoffed. “See, you say that, but I don’t believe you at all. Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s bad to lie, Paciano?” 

Orion splayed his fingers with a hint of exasperation. “I promise, I’m not ly-”

“HEY! Listen to the teacher!” A loud voice cut through the air, and the two turned to face a frowning girl with dyed blue hair. Megs could never remember her name, but she was damn good at dancing and that was enough for him to find her annoying. He shot her a glare that she shrugged off with a smirk. 

“Now that I finally have your attention,” Mr. Magnus drawled, “We can start a new dance. This one is called the Cha-cha. It’s from Cuba. Watch me.” 

He gestured to Orion, who immediately began to execute the dance with flawless accuracy. Megs watched in disbelief at the way his hips moved back and forth, rocking from one foot to the other. The dance was fast, and looked complicated as hell. So many side-to-side steps that Megs suspected only Orion could pull off perfectly. 

God, why did he have to be so good at this? It was unfair, really. Megs was good at plenty of stuff. History, writing, swordfighting, even occasionally art. So why couldn’t he get this? Orion looked so happy when he was dancing. He had this wide, stupid smile that he couldn’t get off his face. All Megs did do when he danced was frown. 

The teacher let go of Orion and began going over the basic steps, instructing the class to follow long. Megs tried his best, stepping forward on the beat but losing all coordination once Mr. Magnus threw the random-ass spin in. 

“The hell? This is awful.” He tried to readjust his body, but now his rhythm was off. He moved backwards and stood stiffly to the side. Maybe if he observed this nonsense better he would be able to pick it up. 

He tried to ignore it when the blue-haired girl rolled her eyes when she caught sight of his still frame in the mirror. 

This dance was the worst. At least he could kind of do the other ones. Sometimes. This was just hell. What the hell were his fellow Cubans thinking? 

“This is my favorite dance.” A whisper in his ear nearly made him jump. Orion laughed at his startled expression and held out his hand to Megs. 

“Of course its your favorite dance. It’s fucking awful and I don’t understand any of it and I just want to go back to fencing because I’m not even supposed to be in this class and-” 

“Shut up, Megatronus.”

And before he could continue protesting, Orion took his hands in his and pulled him to an empty space in the ballroom. 

“Here. We’ll go at our own pace.” 

He clasped Megs’ hand to his, and kept a gentle but firm hold on his back. His hands were so goddamn warm. It was like he was trying to electrify him with the power of dance…or some shit. 

“One..two-three-four…” Orion murmured the count under his breath, making eye contact with Megs every few numbers. 

And of course, he was good. He guided them forward and back, keeping them both upright even when Megs stepped on his feet and even when Megs awkwardly crossed his legs around and nearly fell. 

“Okay, we’re going to try a spin.” 

“Wait-”

Orion pushed against Meg’s hand, and Megs turned, a little too quickly. He felt his ankles knock into each other and he fell forward, but Orion was faster. He reached forward and caught him with both hands, one hand against the small of Megs’ back and the other wrapped around his waist. 

They both froze, and Megs knew the warmth in his face wasn’t just from the stuffy room. He looked into Orion’s eyes for one second, two, before looking down and correcting his feet. 

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, be better.”

“Whatever, Paciano.” 

Orion let go, a small smile on his face. It looked more tender than smug, and his eyes were sparkling. A small snort left his mouth and he shook his head, still smiling. 

He was so beautiful.

He looked at Megs and held out his hands to dance again. 

“One..two-three-four…”

fin.

[sidersstuff]

*dog who’s seen a squirrel voice* OCs? OCs? OCs??? :000

OCS!!!!!

Okayyy just gonna explain them more in detail than the like single sentence the intro post gives them

Orion Flores - Human guy in my alien to Earth story!! He's from Tennessee, lives on his family's farm, and has a horse. His horse is awesome. Her name is Sable :3

Jasper Taylor - Alien in the alien to Earth story! His home planet is called Rana, he got sent to Earth with their brother to like explore, aaannndd their brother is no longer there!! He wanders onto Orion's farm and stays in the barn (for a little while) <3

Aster Mitchell - They were made for short stories along with Clementine, because they were going to be only for school projects, and that ended up not being the case! They're dating Clementine, and she lives with her dad, and she always tries to do way more than she can! Her free time is either spent with Clementine or just looking through shit to learn new stuff :3

Clementine Reed - Again, made for short stories. She moved out as soon as she could, and always tries to get Aster to take a break!!! Xe is SILLY‼️‼️ Love xemmmmm

Nova Warner - NOT A GOOD PERSON‼️‼️ did not realize at the time but they would be considered a yandere because HAHA they're so super normal about Opal! Xe is definitely NOT putting cyanide into the coffees of people interested (and eventually just. Talk to!) in her! Nope, not at all. ((:

Opal Weaver - she's so baby I feel so bad for her but uh not bad enough!!!! They're a college student, who goes to Overflow after their classes to do homework, most of the time at least. Nova is the normal barista that she runs into, and they start talking more than basic formalities because this guy who was talking to her suddenly just. died!(Not in front of them that wording sounds weird........) How weird is that??? She feels very guilty! :3

Willow Wilde - So they're an Earth Genasi with like vines and flowers and stuff embedded in her, and she was a artificer alchemist, she has like this huge garden full of different herbs and fruits that they tend to now almost all day every day! When they're not tending to her garden they're normally cooking or selling salves and potions and stuff! They were not able to save their wife. She misses her. [:

[fell-contract]

Questions 5 14 and 22 for the sex questions

5. What’s the best orgasm you’ve had in the past few months?

Geez, okay there's some competition but the one that stands out is when I was riding @orions-bolt backwards and ended up going over the edge just holding the base of myself 🙈 We'd been going at it for a while and the verbal is what did me in, as usual.

14. What’s your go-to nude pic to send to someone. Describe the angle, lighting, body part etc.

I hadn't thought about this! I was proud of a really good angle I got on my ass when I was right out of college, it was warm yellow lighting. I was on my stomach and had gotten the shot from above somehow, I wish I'd saved it to the cloud for posterity (pun...intended?).

22. What’s the hottest sex dream you’ve ever had?

Whew I answered this one but may as well fire off another. There's this really douchey guy that goes to planet fitness when I'm there, always dressing like he's 'down with the kids' but will have full phone conversation via airpods when working out. Well, I had a dream he challenged me to a frotting duel where basically we had to keep going and couldn't cum or get soft. I uh, definitely used that one when sentient.

Ask me these!

[best-of-basslines]

Song Masterpost

[I was planning on linking all the songs to versions on Youtube, but apparently it goes over the number of links allowed on a post. Instead, the songs will be linked on each poll.]

Talk Talk - "It's My Life"

Kajagoogoo - “Too Shy”

The Beach Boys - “Good Vibrations”

Rush - “New World Man”

Cream - “Spoonful”

The Police - “Message in a Bottle”

Jackson 5 - “I Want You Back”

Diana Ross - “I’m Coming Out”

Diana Ross and the Supremes - “What Becomes of the Brokenhearted”

The Supremes - “You Can’t Hurry Love”

The Jam - “Town Called Malice”

David Essex - “Rock On”

Radiohead - “15 Step” | “Paranoid Android”

Michael Jackson - “Thriller” | “Billie Jean”

Elton John - “Dirty Little Girl”

Angra - “Nothing to Say”

Serú Girán - “La Grase de las Capitales”

Os Mutantes - “Ando Meio Desligado”

Bill Withers - “Lovely Day”

Blur - “Girls and Boys”

Sly and the Family Stone - “Thank You (Falettinme be Mice Elf Again)”

Charles Wright and the Watts 103rd Street Rhythm Band - “Express Yourself”

Jr. Walker and the All Stars - “(I’m a) Road Runner”

Marvin Gaye - “I Heard it through the Grapevine” | “Midnight Lady”

Marvin Gaye and Tammi Tarrell - “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough”

Red Hot Chili Peppers - “Higher Ground” | “Snow (Hey Oh)” | “Give It Away”

Primus - “My Name is Mud” | “Is it Luck?” | “Lacquer Head”

Beck - “Go It Alone”

The Fabs - “That’s the Bag I’m In”

The Shapes - “College Girls”

Herbie Hancock - “Chameleon”

Pink Floyd - “Money”

Rasputina - “Secret Message”

Madonna - “Material Girl”

Was (Not Was) - “Walk the Dinosaur”

Lemon Demon - “Jaws”

Creedence Clearwater Revival - “Have You Ever Seen the Rain?”

Steve Miller Band - “The Joker”

Violent Femmes - “Blister in the Sun”

War - “Low Rider”

Poppy - “Motorbike”

Tokyo Jihen (Tokyo Incidents) - “Noudouteki”

Graham Central Station- “Hair”

Oingo Boingo - “Dead Man’s Party”

Vulf Peck - “Deantown”

Iroha (feat. Rin Kagamine) - “Meltdown”

Labi Siffre - “I Got The…”

Deep Purple - “Space Truckin’”

The Breeders - “Cannonball”

Earth Wind and Fire - “Let’s Groove”

Parliament - “Give Up the Funk”

Liquid Liquid - “Cavern”

Melle Mel - “White Lines (Don’t Do It)”

Tiger Army - “Cupid’s Victim”

Limp Bizkit - “Nookie”

White Zombie - “Black Sunshine”

Alice in Chains - “Rooster”

Pearl Jam - “Daughter”

Norah Jones - “Cold Cold Heart”

Joy Division - “Transmissions” | “Disorder”

Metallica - “Orion”

Anthrax - “Caught in a Mosh”

Muse - “Hysteria” | “Plug in Baby” | “Futurism”

Arctic Monkeys - “Fake Tales of San Francisco” | “A Certain Romance” | “Dancing Shoes”

Bauhaus - “Double Dare” | “Kick in the Eye”

Chic - “Good Times” | “Everybody Dance”

Royal Blood - “Better Strangers”

Fleetwood Mac - “The Chain”

Iron Maiden - “Aces High”

The Damned - “Neat Neat Neat”

The Smiths - “Barbarism Begins at Home”

New Order - “Age of Consent”

Talking Heads - “Psycho Killer”

Romeo Void - “Never Say Never”

Cocteau Twins - “The Hollow Men”

Rage Against the Machine - “Killing in the Name” | “Bulls on Parade”

Dance Gavin Dance - “Don’t Tell Dave”

Queen - “Another One Bites the Dust” | “Dragon Attack”

Gorillaz - “Feel Good Inc.”

Megadeth - “Peace Sells”

Korn - “Got the Life”

Pantera - “Cowboys from Hell”

Queen + David Bowie - “Under Pressure”

Stevie Wonder - “Superstition”

Shiina Ringi - “Koufukuron (Etsuraku-hen)”

The Temptations - “My Girl”

Paramore - “Ain’t it Fun”

Måneskin - “For Your Love”

The Seatbelts - “Tank!”

Cake - “The Distance”

Gloria Gaynor - “I Will Survive”

Miles Davis - “Bitches Brew”

The Fall - “I Feel Voxish”

Public Image Ltd - “Swan Lake (Death Disco)”

Thelma Houston - “Don’t Leave Me This Way”

Killdozer - “King of Sex”

The Beatles - “Hey Bulldog” | “I Want You (She’s so Heavy)” | “Lady Madonna” | “Dear Prudence” | “I Will”

Wings - “Silly Love Songs”

Lou Reed - “Walk on the Wild Side”

White Stripes - “Seven Nation Army”

Gang of Youths - “Achilles Come Down”

AJR - “Sober Up”

Duran Duran - “Rio”

The Who - “Baba O’Riley” | “Getting in Tune”

Yes - “Roundabout”

Led Zeppelin - “Ramble On” | “Dazed and Confused”

The Cure - “Lovesong” | “The Lovecats”

[illuxtre]

✨anyway✨ going back to my FHH reading

Should I make a division for spoilers? Just in case, spoilers ahead

I'm on the Oliver Rescue part (I'm stuck bc I am going insane due to college! Don't mind me) and I just love Phoebe sm

She's very precious, and she's starting to make me very sad

She's the youngest and yet she's doing the most between her brothers (not that I blame them! I mean. Oliver a little bit. I'm not done with the book and I hope he'll give some decent explanations) and the entire thing with Silas is so complicated, every single time Silas cries about how Priest might be able to help them and she thinks of how helpless she is??? I'm so sad for her

If I start rambling about how fucked up the family dynamics in the Hong family are, I will be here all night, suffice to say they all make me so so sad, idk what's worse, the way the boys were nothing but science projects, or the fact Phoebe is like a consolation prize

I just have to note I love the way Orion, absolutely amnesiac, goes "no yeah I'm rescuing my brother" "bby you kind of wanted to throttle him last time." "✨still✨"