#so i wanted to do some writing but i didn't really feel like working on any of my wips i just wanted to smth kinda random
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zorbik-guligan · 1 day ago
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Not really sure what incongruous means so I'll look it up after but it does feel like as i get older life gets more complex theres more things i understand now that sure i knew about them before but not in great detail but it feels like I've become so fucking complex as a person that if i tried to explain what i actually think and feel it would just overwhelm a person so i try and section myself off into pieces and just use different parts of me with different situations or people and it may just be because ive spent most of my time these past 2 almost 3 years now alone with nothing to do but think and figure myself out that when im asked what i think about something slightly personal its kinda hard to say it just got lost in my head somewhere and that whatever i think will change at a moments notice like i can bring up memories of lots of things and remember nostalgic times but i spent so long thinking about why i feel a certain way or what makes me feel a certain way in order to try and get a better hold of myself that ive kinda forgotten alot of my past like so many memories that i made are just gone because remembering them made me feel a way i dont want to feel like i remember realizing the beginning of 6th grade that i had completely forgotten 5th grade and the reason why was because that time i had was so nice yet not at the same time my brain just frogot because it didn't want a reminder of how good yet not something can be like great teachers who for the first time ever actually seemed to care as far as i could tell class mates who were generally friendly and occasionally checked on me if i seemed off yet i felt so alone cause nobody there really seemed like a real friend like the friends i had before who even when we were in deep trouble wouldn't rat me out and would stick with me who genuinely cared and missed me if i was sick getting older and not having anyone to socialize with for really formative years off my life has made understand those really old dudes who are nice and always up to make friends but just seem extra lonely for some reason despite knowing so many people i guess technically being that alone did hurt me but i kinda learned that im just not alone ever when im outside theres always some squirrels birds or plants nearby that make it more lively its why ive grown so fond of certain forested spots they are always lively and it feels like hanging out with all my friends its also why i enjoy making things like with metal or wood stone or even writing and painting those things feel alive in a way same with music and having time to think so much has made me reflect and realize that no day is the same and even when something changes something else stays the same or gos back to how it was in a weird cycle like growing but remembering where you were growing older for me anyways is like gaining more skills and more knowledge not just on the stuff around me but on myself too obviously people change sometimes pretty quickly too but getting older makes you learn more about yourself which duh that how life works but still it feels weird to be aware of it at 17 when it feels like i should still be trying to figure out my favorite youtuber or something not contemplate who i am as a person and what makes me feel the way i do but its a good kind of weird and theres always more to learn and find so i still have plenty of room to learn more about myself still not being able to really fully let a person know you kinda sucks but to be fair that is a rather special thing its also nice being able to put into words why i feel a certain way so that i can actually explain myself instead of just going quiet cause i dont know myself that well still kinda funny to know your own problems but not be able to jusy fix them when you know its a very deep problem even when it seems surface level and damn i got kinda personal there woops also just noticed that im shaking so might be overwhelmed remembering 5th grade which is probably why i frogot it or at least thought i did
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anybody else feel that being human is like being a long-time syndicated cartoon character watching the world get more complex while your own design stays the same until youre incongruous with the reality around you??
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fillinforlater · 2 days ago
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The Archive of Smite
This page belongs to the writer named Smite. He wrote fics starting in September of 2021 up until April 2024. In these 2,5 years, over 8.000 people followed him to read some of the craziest k-pop girl group smut out there. Almost 150 stories of sex in all kinds of positions, for many reasons, all over the world (and in outerspace), with too many kinks to count.
"When I started, I kinda wanted to become the best. I wanted my favorite writers at the time - Levi, Peach, Sins, and many more - to know that I could write as good as they can. I wanted to go wilder and crazier."
Smite, though ambitious, was also stupid and naive. At roughly the same time he started writing, two other community legends began their careers. IZ and Kaede crushed everything in their sight, especially the former becoming an absolute legend.
"Writing was fun. At times, it was escapism from everyday worries. At other times, it was fulfillment of fantasies I could never reach. Mostly though, it was just horny. BFH that just became words. If you go through my Masterlist, you might see which idols had some random heights or were just... Always on my hot list."
Smite never really stopped writing, not for long stretches that is. It didn't really occur to him that there might be a sudden, drastic reason to stop. He considered doing so anyways. Something about writing porn about irl people without them knowing or wanting - needless to say, it is an odd hobby. Nevertheless, he enjoyed it amd the community it brought with it.
"I fucking love these guys. So many hilarious peoplefrom all over the world. One became like my best friend, a rock during my emotional struggles. Another was my boyfriend for a short time. Man, I screwed up with him kekw. There are too many to mention. I've had long talks with some, others just came by and listened to me mald or something. I love you all, some of you I consider true friends - part of my soul - and I feel connected, even if you are thousands of miles away."
2024 started stressful for Smite. The pressure of Uni started to collapse on him. Even the thought of big kpop concerts wasn't enough to cheer him up. Luckily though, there was this girl. Sweet, kind, caring and in the same position. Soon, he had found something that seemed impossible. She was in love with him and he in love with her. And when everything unraveled.
"I stopped writing. I burried my drafts. I finished only one story and released it way later. I'm sorry I didn't announce it properly, but I just felt that this smut writing career was over. I don't regret it - I gained something beautiful I want to keep for the rest of my life. She is at least as pretty as Minju, so I call that the biggest win imaginable lol."
So no more smuts from Smite?
"99% no"
No more fanfictions/girl group stories in general?
"Eh, 80% no. Still some unfinished angst that I would love y'all to read tho"
Will you ever reach those 150 fics?
"We will see. In this count there are fics with less than 1000 words. I might just sneeze and finish it kekw"
Any fic you regret not writing?
"Not really? Maybe a proper ending for Starship: Horizon? Or yet another Minju fic? Futa stuff? Gaeul angst x female reader? Or how about a fic with 69 different idols at once? Who but me would dare to write something so stupid?"
Do you think you reached your initial goal?
"Do I consider myself the GOAT? No. That title belongs to either Peach, Levi or IZ. But I know that of my now 8.700 followers some consider me their favorite writer. I'm flattered and thank you very much for reading amd enjoying my work."
Now for the most important question: does this post mean you are finally leaving the community behind for good? Is this your last hoorah?
"..."
"Never."
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silcoitus · 2 days ago
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Could you write a (young)Silco/Disabled Reader, who for the most part is able to walk just fine with the help of a brace but on bad days they’ll bring out the cane and on really bad days a wheelchair but is still insistent on trying to do things no matter how much they shouldn’t?
I tried to be as sensitive as I could towards reader's disability. I hope it comes across sincere and that I haven't committed any faux pas. If I have, please let me know in the comments and I will happily revise. Like young Silco in this fic, I will quickly apologize and learn if given the opportunity.
A Voice Like Yours
Masterlist | AO3 link
Rating: Mature
Tags: gn!reader x silco; disabled reader; Silco; Felicia; Connol; Vander; Benzo; fluff; angst; hurt/comfort;
Word count: 3.5k
Beta reader: @juniper-sunny
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You would've liked to get to the market sooner, but getting out of bed was particularly hard today. Typically, you're able to handle just fine with only your brace. And when that doesn't work, your cane will usually suffice. But with rough sleep last night and a flare-up this morning, you opt for using your chair today to get to the market. Just until you can get your bearings again.
With your later arrival, you're unable to beat the morning rush, sandwiched between what seems like every citizen of the Undercity. Most give you a wide berth, but others shove past you unceremoniously. You're used to it by now, but your fatigue plasters a permanent scowl on your face as you try to find your usual vendors.
As you make your way through your shopping list, the bag sitting on your lap getting slightly heavier with each new stall you visit, you feel a bit better. (You used to keep your bag slung over the back of your chair, but stopped when some asshole stole it.)
You're on the last item on your list when you get settled in front of one wooden stall and make small talk with the shopkeep. He greets you by name and grabs your usual order, setting it down on the counter before turning his back to fix something. You try to reach for your purchase, but it's just a touch too far. You're about to move your chair closer when a stranger waltzes up and plucks the bag off the counter.
“Hey! That's mine!” you protest, rolling closer to him.
“I know,” he replies, handing it to you. “I was just getting it for you.”
You snatch it and shove it into your canvas bag, still frowning at the tall, slender man with long raven hair. 
“I'm perfectly capable of doing it on my own.” You grab your wheels and in one fluid, practiced motion, reposition your chair away from him. You start to leave, but pause, looking over your shoulder. “I don't need your help.”
Out of your periphery, you see him raise both hands in surrender, but from this angle, you can't tell if his expression is sincere or sarcastic. You try to shake it off, ready to go back home and wash your hands of the interaction. 
The Undercity is supposed to be the city of self-reliance.
So why does everyone still treat you like a child?
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The following day fares better. You bring your cane (just in case) for your shift at the shop, settling into your stool at the cash register. You're reading a book during the slower hours when a customer comes in and sets a stack of papers down onto the counter. Your eyebrows furrow at the flyers and you lift your eyes to see a familiar face.
“If it's alright, I'd like to add these to your bulletin board,” the man from yesterday says, not even looking at you. He leans on the counter, looking out the large windows to the street. “Got a meeting coming up and want to get the word out.”
Finally, he turns to you.
You watch as his face cycles from apathy to confusion to recognition. His eyes dart down to your stool and the surrounding area, seemingly looking for your wheelchair. When he comes up empty, he looks back up to your face, head tilting to the side.
“I didn't need it today,” you preemptively answer. “Not that I owe you an explanation.”
“Right, right, sorry,” he's quick to apologize. “I didn't mean to insinuate—”
“That I'm faking?”
“No! Never!” he says, hands coming up in surrender, again. His shoulders sag forward slightly and he runs his fingers through his hair, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “I'm sorry, can we start again?”
He puts his hand out. You eye it warily.
“Hi, I'm Silco.”
Your lips thin, but you take his hand.
“Hi, Silco.” You give him your name.
“I would like to put these up on your bulletin board,” he says, nodding to the corkboard behind you.
You put your hand out.
“Only two,” you instruct. “One here and the one in the back.”
He starts to hand you the flyers, but then pulls back.
“I can put up the one out back,” he offers.
“It's fine,” you say, insisting with a gesture of your hand. “I can do it.”
Silco looks at your hand then up to your face, understanding slowly spreading across his features. He nods, mostly to himself, as he hands you the papers.
“Of course.”
You take one flyer and a thumbtack from the corner of the board, stabbing it in place with a bit more force than necessary.
“You should come,” Silco says from behind you. “We could use a voice like yours in the Children.”
You turn back to him, eyebrows furrowed.
“Just think about it,” he says softly, gathering the pile of papers. With a small, almost apologetic, smile, he leaves.
You lift the remaining flyer, scanning it.
Children of Zaun 
Town Hall
Wednesday 
4pm
The Last Drop 
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“Hey, Monte?” you call out. “If it's okay, I think I'm gonna head out a little early.”
Your boss peeks his head out from one of the aisles, his glasses slightly crooked on his nose.
“That's fine,” he reassures you, calling your name. “We're pretty slow today; I can take it from here.”
You take your cane from behind the counter, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.
“Thanks! I'll see you tomorrow!”
You make your way to The Last Drop, having spent a couple days wrestling internally about whether or not to go. You had heard of the Children of Zaun, but not really given them much thought. From what you'd heard, they were a ragtag group of misfits posing as rebels, claiming to want independence from Piltover. You had rolled your eyes in disbelief at the notion. Besides, you have plenty of your own concerns to worry about; it's not as if you have time to take up some righteous cause.
But Silco's words ring in your ear, propelling you forward.
“We could use a voice like yours in the Children.”
What did he mean by that? “Like yours”—what’s that supposed to mean? So they want some sort of token disabled person on their crew to make them look better or something?
But the sincere remorse on his face and the softness of his tone told you otherwise. 
Maybe he meant it.
Maybe he does actually want to hear what you might have to say.
So you walk up to The Last Drop, hand clutching your cane, holding it less like a walking stick and more like a blunt force weapon (which it has had to be, on occasion). Taking a deep breath, you pull your shoulders back, and push open the door.
You're by no means early, but there's no way this is the entire gang. You can count on exactly one hand the number of people that showed up. There's Silco, standing with his back to you, what looks to be a couple sharing a table, and then two larger men standing by the bar. You're immediately filled with regret and start to turn back around, until you hear someone call your name.
“You came!” Silco says, more excitement in his voice than you'd expect. “Hey, this is who I told you about.”
Four pairs of eyes turn to you and you feel rooted on the spot.
You shoot Silco a look.
He told them about you? What could he possibly have said?
He gestures you forward, leading you to the couple at the table. You take one of the empty seats and Silco sits in the one next to you. He leans forward, one forearm barred along the wooden surface as he addresses the couple.
“I told you we were missing something,” he starts. “That this—” he gestures to the group, forefinger pointed and moving in a circle, “wasn't enough.”
That same forefinger comes down, tapping incessantly on the table.
“If we're to be the voice of Zaun, we need to make sure that everyone has a spot at the table.”
The woman glances at you before turning back to Silco, nodding slightly as she speaks.
“Okay…” she nods a little more, as if the thought is taking root in her head. “Yeah. That makes sense.” She turns toward you. “My name is Felicia and this is Connol,” she says, leaning her head toward the man next to her. 
“Felicia. Connol. Nice to meet you.”
You shake hands with both of them.
“Would you like a drink?”
You pull your lips through your teeth and Felicia is quick to reassure you.
“Don't worry; it's on the house.” She straightens up, calling out to the large man behind the bar. “Vander! Some beer!”
“Get it yourself!” he calls back.
“Fuck you,” she laughs.
“Oy,” the other man says, bringing a tray over. “Watch yer language ‘round the new recruit.”
Felicia laughs.
“They’re an adult, Benzo; they can handle it.”
You look back at her and she offers you a smirk. You take the free mug of beer and Silco raises his up in toast.
“To the Children of Zaun.”
Felicia and Connol mirror the movement.
“The Children of Zaun!”
You lift your glass and say the words, though you don't take them to heart just yet. But as you bring the mug to your lips, you can't help the small smile from creeping onto your face.
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Every Wednesday, you leave the shop to go to the bar. And every Wednesday, you become a little more smitten.
With the cause.
With the man that introduced you to it.
The more you get to know Silco, the more you realize your first impression of him wasn't a good representation of the man he is. 
Or, perhaps, maybe it was the perfect representation.
A man who only wants to help, eager to uplift those around him. So excited to do so that he steps on a few toes in the process. He's stumbling and clumsy with his help, but he's quick to apologize and quick to learn. 
It doesn't take long for you to realize—he’s that way with everyone. It wasn't just you and it wasn't just because you're disabled. He's always on alert for if someone could use a hand, always first to arrive when someone asks for assistance. That's just who he is.
And if this is one of the rebels trying to uplift the Undercity, the Nation of Zaun is in good hands.
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Silco is keeping you company at the shop, following you around as you restock some items. He carries a crate of goods while you arrange them on displays, your discerning eye careful to make them look as appealing as possible.
You drop one of the small boxes and Silco is quick to bend down to grab it.
“Silco,” you warn, “What'd I say about helping without being asked?”
“Sorry, right,” he says, straightening up to let you retrieve it. “Force of habit.”
You grin up at him, chuckling. “I'm just fucking with you.”
With some assistance from him, you get out of your wheelchair and resume your place at the cash register. Silco takes the opportunity to sit in your chair, long fingers fiddling with the wheels. You laugh as he tries to maneuver the chair around the front of the shop.
“Have you learned any tricks on this thing?” he asks, trying to lean back and balance it so that his feet lift off the ground.
“It's a wheelchair, not a skateboard, you jackass.”
“That's a ‘no’ then,” he says, smirking. But the smirk is wiped clean off his face when the chair tumbles backwards, sending him crashing to the floor.
You let out a bark of a laugh at that, laughing even harder when he starts to groan.
“Serves you right!” You grab your cane, gingerly getting off the stool to help him back up. “If you broke my chair, I swear to Janna… Do you know how hard these are to get? I had to pay so much coin for it.” 
You point your cane at him threateningly, but he wraps his fingers around it and tugs, pulling you forward. A startled squeak at your throat, you fall on top of him, catching yourself just in time so you don't headbutt him.
“Silco—”
“Now we're both down here,” he teases, smirking.
“Wonderful,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “What a masterful plan.”
Something sparks behind Silco's ocean green eyes, something playful, mischievous.
“I'll say it is.”
And with that, he lifts his head, closing the distance between your lips. Your eyebrows lift and your eyes flutter closed, savoring the warmth of his mouth against yours. His hand comes up to tenderly cradle your face and you lean into the kiss, pressing your chest to his so you're flush with him. You don't know how much time has passed, but as you kiss him, you feel as light as a cloud, until—
“Hey!”
You straighten up, face red with blush.
“I don't pay you to swap spit with the customers,” Monte says, but there's no bite to his words. “Get up before someone trips on you.”
You laugh, pressing your forehead to Silco's. 
“Here.” You push yourself up, offering him a hand. “Let me help you.”
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It’s been a while since you’ve had a friend group like this. Ever since the accident that caused your disability, no one seems to have the patience to deal with your rougher days, as if you’re holding them back.
It’s hard to not internalize that feeling.
But with Silco and the rest of the Children of Zaun, you feel different. Whereas before, it felt like your mere presence was a burden, you feel seen and appreciated. You feel heard.
When you tell Vander that the bathroom stalls are too tiny for your chair, he knocks the dividers down to make room.
When you lament about the small step outside the front door, Benzo throws together a small wooden ramp. 
More and more, The Last Drop feels like home, though going to the basement or the upstairs office still eludes you. It’s not that you can’t. It’s more that you’re worried that you’ll have to ask for help to get you back on the ground floor should you get stuck in either place. But, there’s never really been any reason for you to visit either floor, so you’re content to stay in the main bar area, occasionally ducking into the back room when the crowd gets a little too loud.
It’s on one such trip to the storage room that Silco finds you, huddled on the floor, your cane propped up next to you. Your knees are pulled up to your chest and your palms pressed flat against your ears, trying in vain to drown out the sounds of the bar. You had made the mistake of visiting during peak hours and didn’t have the energy to go all the way back home. You thought you could power through it until the customers dwindled, but it became too much. So, you retreated to the back room, holding back tears.
“We have one more!” Silco calls over his shoulder as he opens the door, talking to Vander who tends the bar. “After this, we’ll need to get more.”
He turns over his shoulder to see you on the floor. Immediately, his voice lowers and he crouches down to get eye level, your name a reassuring coo on his throat.
“Hey… are you okay?”
You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut.
“Okay, just… give me a second.”
You hear him pick up a crate of bottles. The door swings open, letting in the raucous noise from outside. You let out a whimper as the door swings closed. After a few tense minutes, the door opens again and you hear footsteps approaching you.
“Hey, I’m back,” Silco coos. There’s shuffling as he moves to sit next to you. “What do you need?”
It’s a sentence you practically trained him to ask. With his tendency to charge forward offering the help he thinks you need, you managed to finally get him to learn to ask you first. 
It’s a small gesture, but at this moment, it’s everything.
“I need…” Your breath is shaky, your eyes holding back tears. “I need quiet. And— And it’s too far to walk home.”
Silco shifts, moving to crouch in front of you, hands on either of your shoulders. He squeezes them and you look up to see a tender expression on his face. Not pity or condescension. Concern. Sincere, genuine concern.
“It’s much quieter upstairs in the office,” he offers. “Do you think you can make it?”
Your lips tighten. It’s hard to think with so much noise; you can barely hear your own thoughts. It doesn’t help that you can feel a flare up coming on, pain shooting through your legs.
“I… I don’t know.”
You watch Silco chew on the inside of his mouth, thinking. 
“I could… carry you.”
You shoot a look at him, equal parts indignation and humiliation.
“I know, I know. It’s not ideal.” He looks around the storage room as if he’ll find an alternative answer. “But the sooner we get you out of here, the sooner you can feel better.”
You bite down on your bottom lip, wrestling internally. The sting behind your eyes is threatening to push past your defenses. Finally, wordlessly, you nod.
“Okay,” he says, tone firm. 
His ocean green eyes dart around your body, trying to figure out how best to pick you up that keeps your dignity intact. But before he can reach a decision, you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him to yourself, holding him in a tight embrace.
“Oh! Hey…” He melts into the hug, bringing both arms around your back, squeezing you gently. “It’s okay.” He rubs your back with one hand, palm warm against your shirt. “It’s okay. We all need help sometimes.”
“I did too much today,” you say into the crook of his neck, tears escaping your eyes. “I should’ve stayed home.”
“Shhhh…” he shushes, shifting his arms as he slowly rises to his feet, bringing you along. 
You manage to get to your feet, but your legs feel wobbly and unstable under your weight.
“Here, let me…” Silco bends down and hangs your cane over the crook of his elbow before bringing one arm behind your knees. “On three. One… two… three.”
You lift your legs up and he scoops you up in his arms, straightening to a stand. Instinctively, you wrap both your arms around his neck, nuzzling your face into his shoulder.
“I got you,” he coos. “I’ve got you.” He takes one final look around the room before pushing the door open with his back. “We’ll go behind the bar; no one will even know.”
You nod, tears flowing in earnest now to stain Silco’s shirt.
You press one ear to the crook of his neck, trying to dampen the loud voices of the bar patrons. At that, Silco walks a little faster, making his way up the staircase. In his haste, he drops your cane on the landing.
“Shit! Sorry, I’ll go back for it,” he says, continuing forward.
After opening the door and carefully depositing you onto the plush red cushions of the couch, he darts out the door, returning with your cane in hand. He sets it on the coffee table in front of you before sitting next to you.
“There.” He rubs your hip as you lay on your side. “Is that better?”
You nod, reorienting yourself to rest your head on his lap. Silco settles on the couch, bringing one hand to your head, smoothing down your hair in soft reassuring strokes. His other hand grazes your cheek, wiping away your tears.
It’s finally quiet.
Your legs still ache, but it’s not as bad as it was before. You can feel the rise and fall of Silco’s chest against your back, his breathing a calming rhythm.
“Thank you, Silco,” you whisper.
“Of course,” he whispers back.
After a moment, he shifts, bending down to bring his lips to your temple. You smile at the touch, feeling warmth settle behind your ribs.
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t,” he cuts you off. “I’ve never heard you apologize before and I don’t want to hear it now.”
The firmness in his voice has you turning your face to look up at him. There’s a resoluteness in his expression, a confidence you typically see reserved for Children of Zaun meetings. He looks off into the distance, as if seeing something that’s not there. A vision. A promise.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he continues. His chin dips and his ocean green eyes find yours. His eyebrows lift and his lips curl into a soft smile, full of pride and affection. “You’re perfect.”
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Taglist: @averagecrastinator @mazikomo @writingmysanity @insult-2-injury @ariaud @jennrosefx @ins0mniac-whack @steponmesilco  @sherwood-forests @leave-me-alone-silco @givemebeansnow @aeryntheofficial @dreamyonahill @lostbunn @whatisafandom @violet-19999 @juicboxd @sageandberries-png @sirenofzaun @blissfulip @mutedwordz @fly-like-egyptian-musk @jennithejester @mrsdelirium @witheringblooddemon
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daenysx · 3 days ago
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hellooo <33!! could I request a 5:15 AM for dreamer girl sleepover x remus? tyyy!!
5.15 AM | REMUS LUPIN
you don't mean to do it, but you end up pulling an all nighter to finish writing your essay.
remus insisted on staying awake with you, he was actually reading his book on the bed as he sometimes looked at your direction. he didn't want to distract you so he kept his mouth shut mostly. he also had this nice feeling of watching you all focused on your studies, his smart girl, you really didn't let anything distract you and it was attractive.
he fell asleep at some point with his book on his chest, you completed your last a few paragraphs and left your essay to be checked with a clear head later.
"remus." you whisper, sit on bed next to his body. he put his head wrong, he's gonna ache when he wakes up. "baby, wake up."
you hate waking him up but it's for his own good. he's so cute like this, his face puffy and soft. you can't help but stroke his cheek with kind fingers, he leans against your palm in his sleep.
"dove?" he murmurs. he can't open his eyes, you totally get him. your eyes feel too much right now, too, you only want to lay down and fall asleep properly.
"let's get under the covers." you say, gently. "give me your book."
you mark the page before putting his book aside. he can only lift his body enough to get under the covers. you settle down next to him.
"finished your essay?"
"yes." you say, putting your head on his chest. his arms are wrapped around you almost instantly.
"you're so good." he praises in his sleep. "literally. smart girl."
his voice is sleep soaked and lovely, you wanna drown in it. your bones make tiny cracking sounds as you get comfy in his arms. kissing his neck thank you, you hold onto his waist.
"good night." you say, finally relieved for finishing your work and being in bed. "good morning?"
"yeah." he murmurs. "either of them."
dreamer girl sleepover ♡
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tpwk-formula1 · 1 day ago
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Biggest Fan Pt 1 - CL16
Requested by @nina-or-anna-or-nora "Heyy!! 💕 I saw you were asking some requests so I have one for an Smau!! (If you want to do it ofc) I was thinking about the reader being kinda like Sabrina or Olivia (a performer) and then Charles being like her biggest fan🤭just a super cute fluffy thing and he goes to every show he can or posts her and stuff🥹"
AN - Had so much fun writing this SMAU for you! Don't be afraid to send in requests that aren't apart of the Pizza Menu! I love Sabrina but I'm not a die hard fan so I have no idea how many outfit changes she has or the order she performs so if it's a little messed up I apologize! Also LMK if you wanna see me do this with more drivers and make it a little series of the drivers being head over heels for their girl friend!
Summary: Just Charles being in love with Y/N... and basically everyone in the F1 community!
Charles insta stories over the fall break
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Twitter
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Charles instagram
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Liked by landonorris, youruser, carlossainz, and 2,090,513 others
charlesleclerc We're ready for you Austin ft. Y/N and all the fan gifted hats that will make an appearance this weekend tagged carlossainz and youruser
user5 I love how he makes a post for work and still finds a way to get Y/N in there
user6 your honor... it's them. It's always them!
youruser I'm ready to be back in my home soil!
user7 I constantly forget our girl is from the US charlesleclerc you mean MY girl user8 Charles will never learn to share charlesleclerc not when it comes to MY Y/N youruser alright calm it down you charlesleclerc yes maam
user9 I hate feeling single but I do love you guys!
carlossainz Will I ever get a post with just us?
user10 Carlos... they're a package deal user11 If I don't expect anything less, you shouldn't either youruser damn... catching strays carlossainz Y/N I thought we were friends!
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Your insta story
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user12 how does it feel to be living my dream
carlossainz he's been smiling at his phone for 10 minutes because you posted him
youruser I love knowing he loves me as much as I love him
user13 his eyes
charlesleclerc that's one lucky man
youruser he really is!
user14 I love the way you guys love each other
landonorris you guys disgust me with how cute you are together
youruser you wish this was you huh? landonorris I miss when you were to shy to interact with us... kinda a meanie youruser you'll learn to survive
Twitter
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your Instagram
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Liked by charlesleclerc, yourbff, oliviarodrigo, and 3,092,172 others
youruser Thanks for the warm welcome home... see you in a few weeks for Vegas!
Look for a surprise tomorrow around noon YeeHaw time!
charlesleclerc Ooooo I wanna know the surprise
user18 I can't believe I have notifications on and Charles is still here before me
charlesleclerc you snooze you lose! gotta be quicker than that! youruser love you need to be a bit nicer! user18 no this is on me... I should know no matter how much I love you Charles just loves you that much more! user19 I'm sobbing at this! Charles is so unhinged when it comes to Y/N
landonorris Can I also know the surprise
charlesleclerc NO!
user20 YeeHaw time is SENDING me! For anyone confused she's talking about CST
user21 THANK YOU! It makes so much sense now that you've explained but as a non F1 Y/N fan I didn't realize she was in Texas haha
user22 I love their height difference. I forget just how SMALL Y/N is.
Your Insta Story
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charlesleclerc I can't wait to watch you!!
user23 HOLY SHIT! I can't fucking wait!
user24 omg! I'm so excited for this!!
landonorris: I hope you have a ticket saved with my name on it!
youruser: I do including the rest of the grid... spread the word pleaseeee
user25: Oh to be in the US rn to experience this concert! I just know it's gonna be amazing
Twitter
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Charles Insta story during the show
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Max's Insta story during the show
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Youruser: Max! hahaha you had me cracking up in the first slide... then tearing up through laughter in the second. Thank you so much for finding time in your title fight to support!
maxverstappen1: I wouldn't have missed it! Had to see what all the hype was about. Please invite me again
Grid Members Stories (Lando, Carlos, Oscar, Yuki, Liam, Franco)
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s1m0nth3swag · 3 days ago
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Could you write “How would Viktor does when reader has depression”.
Of course! Thanks for the ask pookie :)
These r a little short because I am still ill (and my head is literally killing me as I type this) but Viktor is more important than getting well!! (Also bawling my eyes out after act 3, even though I'd still love Viktor nonetheless, machine or not, he's getting it)
WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO: Mentions of Depression (obviously), GN!Reader, sweet Fluff, Viktor has no clue what he's doing in all honesty, he tries (and succeeds) to be sweet
2 Stories - One more casual/not yet dating and the other is established relationship
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You've been off lately, Viktor had noticed. Isolating yourself bit by bit, looking more tired and overall acting just weird. You've had your phases before, but this one was too long. It wasn't like you at all. You've barely even spoken to him or Jayce, when usually you'd yap both their ears off about whatever topic you had learned about the previous night. Now, the lab was silent. Jayce was away on some Council party, and god knows Viktor would never start a conversation on his own while working. Though, he couldn't focus tonight. He mindlessly tinkered with small parts that laid around his desk, his thoughts clouded with the question of what was bothering you. Whatever it was, it bothered him as well. He'd never say, but he missed the cheery and chipper way you'd usually be.
"Are you... alright?" He questions after a while, clearing his throat slightly. This was already too awkward for him, but he did care. Totally just because the atmosphere of the lab would suffer if you weren't your usual self. He noticed the way you shifted uncomfortably as he glanced over to where you were sitting, like you were pondering how to answer. He wondered why you'd need so long to think of an answer, as if you couldn't tell him the truth. "I'm fine. Just a little tired, I just haven't been sleeping well." You answer, a soft, akward chuckle slipping from your lips. Viktor doesn't like that answer. You're different from how you are when you're just tired - not that he actually paid attention to that, but you weren't on your fifth cup of coffee yet. Actually, you hadn't had coffee at all today, another unusual happening. He sighs softly, and you immediatly know that he's gotten into questioning mode - he was a scientist after all. He really couldn't help it. "You can talk to me, you know? We don't have to be lab partners and nothing else, we can be friends." He speaks, his voice softer than before. "What's bothering you, hm?" Viktor adds, turning his chair around to look at you properly. It's your turn to sigh, letting your head hang slightly. "I've just been... feeling off. Like, actually tired but in a mental way? I don't know how to explain." You mutter, awkwardly averting your gaze from him. "We should take a day off, then. Do whatever you want instead of working." Viktor answers casually. "I don't want to miss important stuff in the lab Viktor, I can't take a day off." You throw back at him. He huffs, a slight chuckle filling the room. "Not you. Us. Maybe all three, if Jayce is willing." He clarifies, already noting it down in his notebook to make sure that day off actually happens.
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Viktor noticed the moment he woke up next to you. You'd fallen into another slump. He could tell just by the way you didn't just not want to get up - it was a physical challenge for you. He's seen you like this before, though usually it didn't last too long, at least not that he's noticed, maybe only a day or two at most. But by now, it's been almost a week, and you haven't spoken to him about it. You've been more abrasive, have started caring less about your personal hygiene, and while Viktor doesn't mind, he always hated when you didn't take proper care of yourself. He wanted you to feel good, not fall into a depressive hole. He offered to take a shower or bath with you, to make a game out of brushing your teeth, but you had shut everything down. It wasn't because you didn't think the ideas were sweet, but more because you didn't think you even deserved that much effort. Viktor had to helplessly watch you get worse, and he couldn't even do anything to properly help. It was absolute hell to him.
He'd had enough, wanted to be mad at you, even, but he couldn't blame you for it. He could, however, force you to stay cuddled up in bed with him. You liked staying in bed anyway, and cuddling with him was always one of your favourites. So, here you two were, snuggled into the covers of Viktors way too confortable bed. "You know that I love you, right?" Viktor mumbled, his accent more heavy with sleep. He didn't say it enough, at least that's what he thought. "I do know..." you answered, just as sleepily. "I know you can't control this.. but let me help you, please? I know it's hard, trust me I do, but I hate having to watch from the sidelines as you get worse..." He sighs, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "Let me just be there for you, yeah, my dear?" Viktor adds, pulling away slightly to look at you. "Alright.. I'll... I'll try, I promise." You answer, scooting back towards him so you could press your face into the crook of his neck, basking in his warmth for a little longer.
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misspelledwordswizard · 3 days ago
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Some forms of courtship of male wolves are to adopt dominant postures, like show their teeth or they may give gifts such as meat or bones, all to impress the female
I like to think that Twilight unconsciously does something similar, he stands at attention around you, puffs out his chest a little, if he hunts an animal he makes sure to pass close to you so you can see it, finds nice things around and leaves them in your stuff, etc
It's all about you, he wants your attention and approval so much unconsciously that he's like a puppy, If you want, he can lie on his back in front of you (act of submission or surrender) Just so you understand how much you have him wrapped around your finger, But please tell him he's doing everything good 🥺
I really like this, this idea itself is very good, and maybe it's because I like it so much that it was so difficult to do.
It took me a long time to get around to writing something about it, because all the ideas didn't seem good enough, and I still think it didn't turn out the way I wanted. But here it is!
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Instincts
The Rancher approached me, with something in his hands, crouched down in front of me, where I was sitting, extended his closed hand towards me and opened it, revealing a golden ring with a blue stone in it. 
— What is this? – I asked, confused about why he had it, and why he was showing it to me, and not about what the object itself was. 
— A ring, I found it in a chest. It’s for you. – He answered, still with his hand extended, offering me the ring. – As soon as I saw it, I thought of you. – He concluded with a sweet smile on his lips. 
That made me smile too, it was really nice to know that someone thought of me seeing something like that, especially when that someone is Twilight. This feeling has been following me constantly for the last few weeks, I feel strangely silly when he’s around, and it feels like I’m going crazy, because I’m starting to think that maybe this could mean something more coming from him. This is probably just my deluded mind seeing things, but it makes me happy. 
I accepted the ring, he didn’t seem willing to give up on the idea of ​​me wearing it, and it fit perfectly on my ring finger, it felt right to be there, and it was really very beautiful.  Satisfied with that, the blond stood up and turned his attention to something Time had said, but I hadn’t heard it, as I was too focused on the present to notice the things around me. 
I sighed and hoped that no one was around to hear my silly act of a little girl in love, especially the Veteran and the Captain. I got up from the place I had been sitting under the shade of a tree. It was still morning, some of the boys had gone out to explore the surroundings of the place where we were camping and had just returned, as had Twilight. This ring was probably found in the surroundings. And now, he, Time and the Champion were going to hunt for our food. There wasn’t much to do. We would be staying here all day to replenish our supplies and regain our strength, as the next city was still far away. 
I went towards where Sky was sitting, he was sculping something on a small piece of wood, which ended up catching my attention.  I sat down next to him and was greeted by a kind smile. He seemed to understand my curiosity, because before saying anything he showed me the object he was working on. It still looked very unfinished, almost shapeless, but I was able to recognize that it was a bird. 
— It’s a hobby of mine, it helps me to distract myself.  
— I liked it, it’s really cool, but it seems difficult. You’re talented. – I replied, enchanted by the manual work, I wanted to know how to do things like that, it would be great to give as a gift.  
— Do you want to try? I can teach you if you want.  
— Are you sure? I won’t get in your way? – He just laughed at my question.  
— No, of course not, it will be fun!  
That was enough to convince me, after all, I was already very tempted. Sky gave me a square piece of wood that I could make whatever I wanted and asked me to choose something to carve. I thought for a moment, but soon a perfect image came to mind. He helped me mark the shape on the wood, and then he showed me how I should use the tools.  
It took a while for me to get the hang of it, but soon I was in the mood and we were both working on it, focused, taking advantage of this quiet time to talk.  He told me about his Zelda, and how he used to make her these cute little gifts. There came a time when we just talked about whatever came to mind, without much concern. 
Until the hero stopped talking, and something covered the sun behind me, creating a large shadow. Sky looked at what was behind me, looking surprised and confused, mostly confused, which made me look back too. And there he was, standing, at his full size, carrying a slaughtered boar on his shoulders with a certain pride, with his clothes even a little stained by the animal’s blood, Twilight. For some reason, he was just standing there, without reacting, staring at his brother with something that looked like a frown, which only made the situation stranger and more confusing. 
— Well, if you’ll excuse me, I needed to talk to Time, now that he’s back. – Sky said, getting up from his seat and leaving, with an expression that looked like understanding. 
I could see the wolf boy’s posture relax drastically, and finally, when Sky left us, his gaze turned directly to me, with a big smile on his face. I stood up, putting my unfinished work in one of the pockets of my belt, and turning my attention to him. 
— I got this. – That was all he said, keeping his proud smile on his lips, making me smile with his attitude. 
— Impressive! I’m sure the Cook and I will be able to make something very good out of this. 
His smile faltered for a moment at my words, but then he just nodded in agreement, satisfied for some reason. 
— Yes, I’ll help you. 
— Oh, no need, you’ve already done great at that. 
— No, it’s okay, I want to help you. 
I ended up just accepting that, so I went over to where Wild was to prepare lunch. He didn’t take too kindly to the idea of ​​the Rancher helping, saying there wouldn’t be much for him to do, but his insistence ended up winning the argument. He ended up only being left with the task of cutting the meat, in the end, but that seemed good enough for him. While the Champion and I took care of the rest and talked, he kept staring at his brother with that same weird frown. What’s gotten into him? 
After we did most of the work, all that was left was to wait until the meat cooked, so Wild released us from the task. I went to a corner to read, and for a moment, I thought Twilight would follow me to that corner, if he hadn’t been called by Warriors, making him sulk again. It’s a shame, I really wish I had his company right now. 
 I didn’t see him again then, at least not until now. After lunch I spent the rest of the afternoon going back to work on the wooden sculpture, I wanted it to be perfect. This was good, because it distracted me for hours, when I saw it, it was already getting dark, the boys who were out, for unknown reasons, returned, including my wolf boy, who came straight towards me, ignoring any calls from his brothers.  
He threw himself down next to me, resting his head on my shoulder and sighing. Poor thing, it must have been a tiring day for him. I put my work, now finished, aside and moved so I could look at him better, making him raise his head, attentive to my movements. I put a hand on his cheek, I felt hypnotized by his beauty, and it hit me even harder when I saw him melt into my hand, smiling. That was, until his smile died, for some reason, leaving me worried. Did I do something wrong?   
Before I could ask him anything about it, he pulled me into his lap, making me squeal in surprise, and pulled me close to his body, hugging me tightly in a protective manner. I couldn’t be more confused, but I’m definitely not complaining. 
— What’s wrong? – I asked softly, and he took a moment to answer, looking thoughtful. 
— You still smell like Sky. I’m taking care of it. 
I didn’t know what to say to that, I didn’t imagine that I could smell like someone else like that, but there was no point in contradicting him about it either, after all, Twilight’s sense of smell is definitely quite sharp. I sighed, relaxing against the strong man’s body with a goofy smile on my face. What a good day. 
— Oh, I have something for you! – I said, picking up the sculpture I had been working on, which was shaped like a wolf, or rather, Wolfie, and handing it to him. – Sorry, it didn’t turn out very well, I’m still learning. 
He held the gift carefully, analyzing it, looking surprised. Then he pulled me closer, giving me a tight hug and burying his face in my neck, I could feel him smiling against my skin. 
— Thank you, dear. – He said, looking me in the eyes again, and placing a warm kiss on my right cheek. 
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faorism · 2 days ago
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im feeling real the call is coming from within the house vibes rn, so im going to be kinda nasty for a hot minute because you actually were the reason i came across this post in the first place. my friend and i were so aghast at your racializations of hardison in a fic, that they had to see who the fuck you are. and your own ignorance highlights why this response is kinda bullshit.
incorporating race is absolutely something that fandom needs to be better about doing. absolutely. but up your attempts at doing so show how stomach churning poor follow through can be, where i would have preferred you not give an attempt at all. because in the fic in question, you use the wildly outdated term "ebonics" to refer to hardisons exaggerated speech that he codeswitches into occasionally. my friend and i spent fifteen minutes trying to decipher your implications in the line: "He’s young, or maybe (hopefully) just black, is the first thing."
i did not read your evil!hardison fic, because i didnt trust your ability to write an entire fic focused on him. that said, i felt like a got enough out of this hc post:
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so! i think there's some good points here (perhaps!) about what hardison would look like with a possessive god complex, as opposed to him being a thoughtful provider building homes for the people he loves. and yes, "ownership" is a very contentous topic in the Black community, given how white supremacy has subjugated Black capital. but whatever analysis i would give you credit for—and any brownie points you could get from naming the racialized aspect—is immediately wiped when you fucking compare hardison to a goddamn overseer. you know, like an enslaver overseeing enslaved people? you imply here hardison, a Black man, would be a kind master to his employees. which is just so vile to be casual about.
attempts were made, i can say about your posting and writing. but i don't at all respect it, because you still have so much to really pull together to not be offensive about things.
which gets back to this post. you say your saw weirdness. why the fuck didn't you name it? no, really. did you actually see it or are you trying to save face now? you're not welcome for the labor i (nonblack latinx) and my friend (Black) had to go through to process this post. don't rely on others to do the work of naming racism and antiblackness; do the work yourself, or just don't reblog if you can't give commentary.
and, because i have been nasty and might as well be petty: honestly, there's just so much more work you need to do if you want me to trust you with handling race in fandom when you out here posting shit like this:
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you're the fucking issue here too.
Well, a realization just hit me. Don't know if this is true of not, I don't remember the timing.
Eliot said he didn't hit cops in the OG show. Well now that makes sense. His dad is Black. What do Black parents teach their kids when it comes to dealing with the cops? Part of The Talk. Just do as they say, not that that always work.
He would have at least heard that talk with other foster kids, or teammates, if not given it himself.
And why would he stick to that? Because his dad was upset with him and he was still trying to be a Good Boy in one way.
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eponymous-rose · 3 days ago
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Some (many) thoughts on Arcane s2 while it's still fresh in my mind:
(tw: discussion of fictional depictions of suicide)
I'm gonna do some nitpicking here, but only because I really did like it overall - I think for me s1 was a solid 10/10 and this season was an 8.5/10, so I'm certainly looking forward to rewatching it! The animation was a big step up from s1's incredible work, the music was great, the performances were fantastic. I do think the overall writing/story fell down a bit, though.
It's weird, because my go-to when character arcs feel rushed is to want more episodes, but I don't think that necessarily would have solved my issues with this season.
Cait turned on Ambessa on a dime - we love to see it, but I think we maybe needed a few more overt hints of her discomfort with her position, maybe a sense of wrongness in their adoptive relationship and some parallels with Jinx & Silco given what Vi says early on ("why are you the one acting like her?"). Ambessa believes her daughter to be lost, and Cait has lost a mother - they were certainly playing on that substitution, but the eventual turn, while fun, felt a bit quick and unearned. I saw someone joke about the word "Cupcake" flipping Cait back like a sleeper agent, but that's kinda how abrupt things felt.
I think Mel's plot largely hung together okay, although it was pretty disconnected from everyone except Ambessa - would've loved to have seen some acknowledgement that Cait was filling her shoes as Daughter for a while there.
Isha was sweet and I liked the parallels with the Powder-Vi relationship (LOVED Jinx running with the pink chalk and Isha with the blue), but I think the sacrifice metaphor got a little muddled. The parallels with Powder charging in and killing everyone around her, versus Isha charging in and saving everyone but herself felt a little forced and I struggled to see how they served the greater narrative. The whole point of Powder's failure was a messy combination of bad luck, overcompensating for what she perceived as a lack of confidence in her, etc. Isha had Jinx's confidence on her side, I guess, and now of course we have the foreshadowing of Jinx dying to save someone else, which she's been trying to do since Act II.
Suicide was a pretty heavy concept throughout the first season. We had the parallels of Jayce and Viktor, we had the little-remarked-upon moment where Viktor hesitates before cutting the wire on Jinx's bomb. I actually think this season did pretty well with those two (although I'll talk about a couple things that irked me below), but the concept that we can't escape the things that we've done and we instead have to find salvation in those around us felt kind of contrary to Jinx's finally finding a way to die for her sister. I don't know that Jinx's story was necessarily supposed to feel satisfying or complete, but without another season there's not much to dig through there.
And that brings up the main reason I don't think more episodes would have resolved my quibbles with this season: it was pretty prone to overexplaining. To me, one of the most exceptional things about that first season was how little it explained. You had these gorgeous, evocative flashes of Vander trying to kill Silco, Silco stabbing him and fleeing into the night, and that's all we needed! That's it! We didn't need to know the specifics, we didn't need more backstory than that - the whole point of the season was that these kids are trying to make their own stories, and these guys have set the stage and are in the process of bowing out. Much as I loved the glimpses this season into the past generation's adventures, it felt like it was pinning something down that was more effectively left to the imagination.
There were also some weird fumbles with discussions of disability, especially in that last episode. I loved so much of what season one did with it - the older generation of Zaunites almost all had some form of disability due to the way they'd been systematically poisoned and their constant exposure to danger, and that was a really in-your-face way to challenge the early "why can't we all get along" stuff. And so much of Viktor's and Jayce's arcs are tied in with the sense of time running out and how Heimerdinger's long-term goals are incompatible with helping the people suffering right now. But instead we get this weird "you didn't like your imperfections so you tried to eliminate all imperfections", which doesn't quite ring true.
We just fundamentally didn't get to a resolution that I think was heavily implied, especially in Act II. "No one in power is innocent" is a great, raw line, but we didn't really see it play out. Instead, we have everyone stopping from othering each other in order to band together against an even bigger Other. As a side note, I don't think that Sevika's ending is meant to be a positive thing - we see from the skeptical looks of others that she's got a long road ahead. The revolution we saw coming just sort of fizzled out, and I think it's still on the horizon, which makes things feel incomplete.
There were also a lot of notes that repeated instead of echoing or harmonizing. We had variations on the theme of Vander dying three different times. We had Vi being unable to kill her sister several times. The repetition felt a bit like it was filling time instead of moving things forward the way s1's plot kept pushing.
This season is also the first time I felt the hand of League of Legends Canon shoving the plot into place. We knew Vi was heading for that enforcer uniform, but after the initial conflict it sometimes felt more like we just unlocked a new skin for the character. The Vander-as-Warwick stuff was kind of silly and out of left field, although it was executed pretty well and certainly pulled at the ol' heartstrings. Ekko getting his time abilities was fun and impacted the final fight, but I feel like we were missing something there as well that I'm having a harder time putting my finger on. Some of Viktor's lines felt designed to make the League players in the audience go "HE SAID THE THING". And I hate the feeling of setting up the Next Installment in the Cinematic Universe, probably just because I'm exhausted with Marvel stuff - I'd love for an adaptation like this to be able to really and truly stand on its own.
Overall, it just felt less like the characters were driving the story and more like they were ticking off boxes, which is just something that any good finale has to contend with one way or another.
Anyway, that's a lot of nitpicking. Fundamentally, this felt almost like it was a really strong fic that did a surprisingly good job of wrapping everything up and was stunningly put together in places... but still lacked the spark of the original.
Stuff I loved: Vi/Cait getting a pretty strong arc and certainly the first lesbian sex scene I've ever seen in a TV-14 cartoon. Animation and score was stunning. I did love the what-if of episode 7 - something I've been waiting for them to acknowledge is that literally everything that happens in the show follows from that one break-in during episode one. I actually think Vi and Jinx's reunion and reconciliation felt earned.
I'm curious how I'll feel on subsequent rewatches - the first time I watched s1, I remember being blown away but not in a "this is the best thing ever" way, and it wasn't until the second time that it really clicked for me.
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icarusredwings · 3 days ago
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Letters.
Tw: General warning about phycosis and bad mental health.
Thinking about Wade becoming conscious sometimes out of his manic/phycosis episodes and scribbling down everything, he wants to tell who he's with before he's gone again.
It starts off as a letter, adressing them, telling them his feelings, explaining complex things that he cant comprehend in this state, how much he loves them, and then it goes down hill to apologizing for being a burden, the end of the page scribbles in more and more pressurized versions of "Im sorry Im sorry Im sorRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY
I'M SORRY
I'M SORRY
I'M SORRY
IM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRYIM SORRY with tear drops smudging some of the words. And then when you ask him about it, he doesn't remember even writing it.
People always ask Vanessa why she stays with Wade. Why or how she could put up with him for so long. And the truth is, his good days? He's a great person. He's a good man, Savanna. And an amazing lover.
One day, Logan finds one of the letters on the counter, a lot of words scribbled out but it, in short, says
"Logan,
I know I'm a pain in the ass a lot of work but I love you please don't give up on me
But its the bad days that pile up, become endless. That's what breaks her. She can only help so much. And it breaks her heart to think about ever truely giving him up.
I'm loosing my mind trying really hard. Wade."
She's explained this to Logan, bringing him to her dresser and pulling out a shoe box full of papers, notes, letters.
Every single one of them is from Wade. Ranging from love letters that are multiple pages long, sticky note with hearts and a doodle of stick figures banging doggy style with "Happy hump day!" on it, and uncoherent smuged and half scribbled out notes from his bad days telling her how badly he wants the voices to stop. To leave him alone. Telling her that she should leave him. "You can do better. You DESERVE better." The words say.
"Vanessa,
I know you need me here with you, but I'm losing myself, and I'm afraid you're gonna lose me too. These powers keep me alive, but they're making me crazy. And I need to save you, but who's going to save me?
Please forgive me for whatever I do
When I don't remember you.."
"Is that?... That show with the strenchy dog?"
She nods, taking it back and carefully putting it back into the box. ".. That was one of the first letters I ever gotten like this.. he thought the cancer would take his ability to remember me. So.. he wrote me that."
"So what do I do?"
"What do you mean? There's nothing much you can do.. but according to this? Don't give up. If you want too.. I used to write back but.. sometimes he didn't awnser again. Still though... He said he's trying.."
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recurring-polynya · 1 day ago
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a cool thing about writing bleach fanfic is that i have read certain parts of the canon so many times that i feel like i know it really well and then i'll realize there's something i have absolutely no clue about. today's example: in the wake of Ichigo storming Soul Society, how widespread was the knowledge that Urahara had been assisting him?
Aizen knew, obvs, for Aizen reasons, but some of the stuff he mentions, like Urahara's known base of operations being in West Rukongai-> the involvement of known Urahara associates Shiba Kuukaku and Shihouin Yoruichi and other clues probably had a number of characters such as Yamamoto, Ukitake, Kyouraku, Unohana suspicious. I feel like Soi Fon and Kurotsuchi could easily have put it together as well, but I did not get that vibe from them so either they didn't or they were just too distracted or in Kurotsuchi's case, he probably did put it together and just didn't care (or pretended not to care)
When the captains finally show up in Hueco Mundo, we learn that Urahara had been working with the Gotei for some time so obviously his involvement has been known at some high enough level of security clearance.
Did Byakuya ever officially report the fact that Ichigo Hollowified right in front of him, which may not have meant much to him, but probably would have been a big tip-off to Yams. On one hand, it does not feel very Byakuya of him to leave something like that out of a report, but on the other hand, I really feel like he just kept it to himself.
Would Rukia have mentioned Urahara in her debriefings after she was arrested? On one hand, I do not think she understood who Urahara was and would not have thought much of mentioning him. On the other hand, Rukia is a "snitches get stitches" type to the marrow of her bones and I feel like she would have intentionally wiped any mention of him from her narrative 99% on principle and 1% for the purposes of protecting Ichigo
If I were banished from Soul Society and hiding out in the Living World, I would use an assumed name, probably all the time, but AT VERY LEAST for the case of interacting with active-duty shinigami. The only person who actually did this was Isshin and I honestly believe he just changed his name for wife-guy reasons.
Ichigo did, very much, straight up tell Ikkaku that Urahara taught him to fight and it was quite clear that Ikkaku was fully aware of who Urahara was. Did Ikkaku tell anyone this or otherwise do anything with this information? I feel like he did not.
Does Ikkaku have a security clearance???????
I would not give Ikkaku a security clearance
If I were going 100% by the manga, I would assume that Yoruichi ghosted after they failed to arrest Aizen, given that she's still very much banished, but in Honey Dish Rhapsody, she apparently hung around with Soi Fon for a while. Is it possible that she had some meetings with the Gotei higher ups in the interests of re-establishing a relationship/working on getting the banishment reversed? My heart wants to say no, but Yoruichi often makes herself freely available to the Gotei in filler arcs, so who knows?
When the Advance Team first goes to the Living World, Renji goes to stay at Urahara's in the interest of "asking" Urahara why he put the hogyoku in Rukia (I assume "asking" is a euphemism for breaking his nose). I feel like this could be the natural follow-on to the idea that Renji just got handed a file of classified info related to this mission and is freshly Hot Mad at this dude he didn't know existed up until now.
Presumably, Rukia also could have given Renji a more detailed version of her time in Karakura in a non-official capacity
Presumably also, the Karakura kids could have gone around telling anyone who would listen about their Mysterious Shop Keeper Friend
I think the answer I'm leaning towards is that the Gotei higher-ups knew about Urahara's involvement and re-established communication with him, possibly in an obfuscated way so as not to run into trouble with Central 46 (fairly easy to do, since they were dead at the time). It's a pretty poorly kept secret, but on the other hand, Gotei op-sec seems to lean pretty heavily on the assumption that people who accidentally learn state secrets don't know what they are looking at and will most likely forget it in a day or two anyway.
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rocknrolldecadence · 2 days ago
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PLEASE DO MORE OF IZZY ITS SO GOOD😜😜
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surprise
you uncover a secret of izzy’s.
warnings: none
a/n: AHHHH MY FIRST REQUEST!!! tysm i hope you like this even tho it’s short 🙁🙁 also everyone don’t mind the spacing, my phone is still acting up (i need a new one so bad it’s insane).
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it was a late summer’s evening and you and izzy were hanging out in the studio. downtown LA was busy as ever, and the cars provided a calming sort of ambience. it was just you two there. your boyfriend wanted to get some writing done without the other members of the band, and so he invited you to join him.
as izzy strummed his guitar, you stared out the window, just listening. the half-fleshed out melody provided a soundtrack to your daydream. until he messed up.
‟i keep fucking this up!” izzy complained, putting his guitar down and sighing.
you looked over at him. “babe, don’t worry about it. it’s fine. you aren’t even recording anything.”
he didn’t reply, but you could still feel the dissatisfaction. “what is this for?”
“a new song.”
“well… yeah. but do you know what it’s gonna be like? have you got lyrics yet?”
“i… dunno.” izzy coughed.
“what does that mean? you either do or don’t.” you laughed.
again, izzy didn’t reply. you eyed him up, trying to silently coax an answer out of him. it didn't work. but he seemed… embarrassed? that was unlike him. you pressed for information again.
“c’mon. are you hiding something from me?” you feigned sadness, clutching your hand to your chest.
“no. i just… wanted it to be a surprise.”
that caught your interest. the way he looked down at the floor was intriguing. was this a surprise for you?
“is this for me?” you giggled. it had to be. why else would he be acting so secretive?
“god, stop fucking pressing.” izzy huffed. he got up and left the room, reaching for his pocket as he did so, seemingly searching for his lighter.
you were taken aback. sure, you and izzy had both said much more awful things to eachother than that when you fought, but that was weird. you hadn’t meant anything by asking. the overreaction made you uneasy. what if it was for someone else? a secret girl?
you sat in the studio for a few minutes, staring at izzy’s guitar. you finally went to find him, and saw him leaning on the railing outside the building, smoking a cigarette. “hey,” you said, walking up beside him, “what’s wrong?”
izzy said nothing. he just took another drag of his cigarette. you looked up at the sky. it was sunset now. the tones of pink and yellow melted into eachother beautifully. minutes passed in silence, until izzy tapped you with his elbow and held out the nearly-done cigarette to you. you took it to your mouth and inhaled.
“look,” your boyfriend started, “i wanted it to be a surprise ‘cause i’m writing a song for you. well- songs. i wanted to perfect them and show you. y’know, with the rest of the guys.”
you looked over at him. songs? you hadn’t expected that. you and izzy hadn’t been going out for that long, only about four months. you didn’t think he could write multiple songs about you. that made you smile.
“am i really that important to you?” you laughed, stubbing out the cigarette on the railing the two of you were leaning on.
izzy pulled you in close to him, touching sides. “well, it would be kinda stupid if you weren’t. why would i be dating you then?”
“are any of these songs done? do they have a riff?”
“one does. if we go back in, i’ll show you.”
and so you dragged izzy back in eagerly.
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lalalian · 3 days ago
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dragon riding equipment | aethergarde academy dr
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date: november 23, 2024
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it's been a sec since i've done a longer post (like a little over a week or smth.. right?)
I was busy with my finals... I still am, but like... I miss posting 😭😭
Equipment will be outlined in aethergarde's student handbook too!
ANYWAY-- enjoy this incredibly long post! I'm sorry if there are any typos, I don't feel like looking over everything (T-T)
how to get your equipment (kinda)
It's pretty easy to find shops that sell dragon riding equipment in cities-- but in rural towns and villages, this kind of equipment can be almost impossible to find near you.
If you are not starting off as a noble like me, buy your equipment within the first week of school-- actually, no, get it ASAP. You should, ideally, start looking for equipment after you retrieve your egg (you need to get your egg as soon as you get to campus).
What if you don't have the equipment by the time you need to start using it? You'll be left out of lessons, standing off to the side while your peers fight or fly, which will absolutely tank your grades.
You should have your equipment before the first month of school ends.
If I have a month to get said equipment, why not wait?
There are lots of dragon riding equipment shops, but not all of them are of good quality. Rough half of the students attending Aethergarde will not be nobles, on top of that, nobles will commission the best shops-- especially luxury brand shops-- to custom make their armory, saddles, etc.
This makes the dragon equipment market rather busy around this time of year.
BUT
I'll help ya'll out, though, I can't promise you'll be the only commissioning things from these places.
school supplies list
let's start with the obvious, you'll need either an enchanted fountain pen, a regular fountain pen + ink, or some quills and ink. Quills and ink are cheaper, they're the equivalent to like, wooden pencils. Fountain pens have the same reputation as mechanical pencils. Enchanted fountain pens are really trendy! Definitely also get a set of gum wax, aka waxers (erasers); kids like to call them gummies (fruit gummy resembling snacks are called jellies here!)
You should get basic stuff like loose parchment (loose leaf paper), an academy bag (a backpack, highly recommend a messenger type bag), and writing books (notebooks to take notes in)
dragon mounting gear: includes such things like a saddle and reins, very similar to horse gear
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wind-breaking charm OR riding goggles OR a riding visor: Wind-breaking charms are pretty hard to find-- I mean it's not impossible, but it's just not cheap. Riding goggles are an old rider thing, they aren't used much anymore. Riding goggles look like your typical steampunk-esque goggles. If you want a physical facial wind breaker, get a riding visor. Riding visors look similar to ski visors, but the glass lookin part tends to be tinted orange due to a strong sunglasses effect.
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kinda like this ^^^^ but w/o the gas mask; if anyone's got a better idea for this btw, plz let me know!
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I'm still in the works with this aspect.. mostly bc I feel like the visors don't fit the fantastical aesthetic-- but I didn't want to immediately default to using magic and charms because I want the rider uniforms to be more unique than the typical 'fighting leathers', yk? Idk, maybe the décolletage cover is unique enough.
Other sight wind-breaking options:
wind-protectant eyedrops: these are rather new (has been released to the market a year before you shift here) the liquid is runny like normal eyedrops when you put them in your eyes, but the substance begins to form a film over your eyes. The film feels exactly like contacts, so it's easy to forget the substance is still on your eye. The film only lasts for a few hours (the film will eventually dissolve), and does not do any damage to the eye. To manually remove it, use the 'antidote' eye drops (wind protectant eyedrops and antidote eyedrops are sold in a set) to lubricate your eyes, then after blinking a few times, remove the film by softly pinching it out of the eye (NOT WITH UR NAILS, USE THE PADS OF YOUR FINGERTIPS!!!). The downside to these eyedrops is that they do not protect against the sun; though, sun-resistance eyedrops are starting to come to the market. You must make sure the sun eyedrops are wind-protectant friendly, or the sun eyedrops won't stick to the film, causing the sun eyedrops to leave your eyes too quickly. These eyedrops are also pretty expensive, but it's still less expensive than rider grade wind-breaker charms.
rider grade sun-resistance charm: A lot of people carry these around just in general, especially during summer, but the one's you should buy should be rider grade. Rider sun charms are stronger and are made to be used when you're flying in the sky for long periods of time. Sun charms need to be replaced every few months; all sun-resistance charms have to (legally) have a label that gradually changes to black-- the darker it is, the less it works. It typically starts to darken after two months of use.
moving on--
fighting attire: Unfortunately, it's not ideal to fight in aethergarde's uniform-- But, it's not like it's impossible if you take the outer coat off. Speaking of uniforms, Aethergarde provides a fighting garment set that comes with the formal uniform (the pretty one). You're required to wear it for fighting lessons, including outside missions; in your third, fourth, and fifth years, you can start replacing elements of your uniform with better material. Why not simply allow students to get their own fighting garments from the start? Students need to know how to fight wearing armor made for higher ranking riders-- the material is different from lower ranking riders' uniform.
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you'd be wearing smth like this but w/o all the stringy bits! consists of a lot of wild dragon hide.
a weapon: you'll need to have chosen a weapon before the end of the second month!
optional riding supplies
décolletage cover: Main purpose is to provide warmth for the face and neck area without compromising movement. It's highly recommended-- plus, you'll look cool. Many décolletage covers are charmed to always be warm and protect against harmful gases.
often looks like this but less kinky looking and the bottom part is fitted to the chest-- also not all of them have this same design, but they all do cover the same areas.
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it'd fit like this ^^^^ to the body!
riding gloves: helps you have a better grip with weapons or to your saddle. If you're planning to sleep on your dragon while it flies, there's a little belt mechanism that you can loop through the front of the dragon saddle that attaches your hands to the saddle. This helps keep your body from sliding off the dragon during flight. If the front of your saddle isn't comfortable, you can loop the belt through any belt buckle on the dragon; the most common place is around the bottom of the dragon's neck (pictured in the 2nd pic). It's best to get black gloves, but brown can also work.
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the highlighted yellow area is, relatively, where the most popular glove attachment is (for napping). There'd be more belts and stuff around the dragon btw, I just didn't feel like doing all that shit.
belt vial holder: you can place travel sized containers of potion bottles in the best + you can attach charms to the belt too
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flight bag(s): This bag can be easily attached to your dragon's saddle, most saddles can hold up to 2-4 bags. Bags in general can be tailored to become flight bags, but it's best if the bag has some sort of tight buckle-- you don't want your bag to fall open when you're flying around!
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these kinds of bags are common riding bag designs! if you have a smaller satchel you like bringing around, you can put it inside of one of these bags
how to get your equipment (actually) pt.2
Like I mentioned earlier, it's better to buy rider equipment in cities rather than villages and small towns. During rider season, it won't be uncommon to see a bunch of stalls along the streets selling rider stuff.
Getting stuff like academy bags, belt vial holders, and travel bottles from stalls isn't a bad idea, but it's always best to get your most important equipment from an expert with a good reputation.
Unless you know the crafter is great at making everything-- extremely durable saddles, reins, weapons, and fighting attire, you should go to shops that specialize in each part.
recommended shops:
Since common street shops will be busy this time of year, I'm going to recommend you some underground shops.
I cannot guarantee that these places will be completely empty, as they're all well-known in their own right, but they all will be able to cater to you before all of your deadlines.
Make sure you bring the actual school supplies list with you!
middle steed
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Name: Aadam El-Hussein
Specialization: dragon saddles, belts, and flight bags
Summary: After his father's arthritis in the hands started becoming worse, Aadam took over Middle Stead. His dad still helps around at the tannery though! As with all the shopkeepers, Aadam and his father are extremely passionate about their jobs. Don't be afraid to ask for any innovative features; like if you think you'd sleep a lot on dragonback, you can ask Aadam to make the saddle more comfortable for you to lay in a certain position. If you're extremely worried about safety, you can always ask to have other safety features implemented in the design.
To get here:
Find the Dragonmead Brewery in Itresal (the city Aethergarde Academy is located in) the alehouse is located on Millmount Street.
There should be a space between that brewery and the bakery next to it-- go down that alleyway and pass two wooden doors. When you get to that third door, knock; either an old man (Aadam's dad) or Aadam himself will open the door
From there, you can order a saddle and all the appropriate equipment you need
Some tips:
Get another saddle commissioned by him every two years; dragons grow relatively fast, so simple tailoring won't always suffice
You can put off getting saddles until your dragon near rider flight age
Instead of bringing your dragon to Middle Stead, bring him into Aethergarde. He'll need measurements to make a proper saddle
Any metal (like in the buckles) should be plated with a matte coat or cold black iron
storm forage
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Name: Reynard Ulysses
Specialization: Dragon rider armor and rider fighting attire
Summary: Reynard was born into a rural farmer family, but after his older brother ended up being a rider, Reynard moved to Itresal with his brother. Since Reynard was often tasked with preparing hide, he decided to work at a local butcher shop to help his brother financially. Oftentimes, his brother would come home and complain that he needed to replace his fighting garments. The two of them couldn't afford to keep buying cheap fighting attire, so Reynard started learning how to make it himself. Eventually, he started selling his products to other people-- over the years, he's honed his skills, and became known in underground spaces for having great fighting attire.
To get here:
Located in the southern part of Itresal in Ranger's Way
Go down the alleyway between Steel Whim (blacksmith) and the Loving Fowl Inn
Walk straight until you reach a fork; walk through the rightmost path, then go left at the end of the path
There should be a wooden sign that says Storm Forage on a door; knock on that door, you can order from there
Some tips:
You may see Callisto here
Everything you wear has to be matte; tell Reynard to plate any metal on your fighting attire with cold black iron
waning moon burrows (face wear)
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Name: Yessuf Yohannes Tarik
Specialization: rider goggles, rider visors, cloaks, aerodynamic magitech
Summary: Yessuf is the only one out of all the merchants so far who was born of noble status; however, he left home to escape from the classic noble lifestyle in his early 20s. He no longer wants to be a noble, and simply identifies as a commoner. Yessuf was particularly driven to escape his luxurious life to pursue his passions and sell his products at a more reasonable price. Ever since he was young, he had a strong affinity for engineering, but when magitech came around, he took his passion to a whole different level. Though is not a dragon rider, he was always fascinated by dragons, this spurred him on to make technology that would aid riders. Yessuf is an innovative prodigy; Yessuf's shop is most likely to be busier than the all of the ones I've mentioned so far.
To get here:
Located in the central part of Itresal in Quarry Avenue
Find The Pioneer Brewery and ask for a "vermond tea served with a stick of sweetbark"
The bartender will ask you to come to the back to see the new selection of sweetbark; follow the bartender, they will take you to Waning Moon
Some tips:
Literally every single product this guy sells is amazing. Not a single one is bad, he puts in a lot of effort to make everything he sells as good as he can make it
Only sells wind-resistance charms on the weekend, but sells wind an sun-resistance eyedrops Monday, Wednesday, and Friday
His wind-sun resistance eyedrops and his wind-resistance charms sell really quick
if there's something you want that he doesn't actively sell, like, perhaps... a flying ship.. you can commission him to make one, but you will prob need to provide him with a lot of the materials
You should get wind-sun resistance charms here; they're cheaper because Yessuf does not base the price on existing market value
the dew drop: potion's shop
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Name: Katherine Dowenstein (Blonde lady), Lorelai Dowenstein (Brown hair)
Specialization: Potions, tonics, elixirs, balms, herbs
Summary: Katherine Dowenstein grew up in an orphanage. Despite that, her life was rather peaceful growing up. Since she loved going outdoors, cooking, and baking, her caregivers often remarked that she'd be a great apocathary when she's older. Determined to meet their expectations, she began learning all about different plants and potions through both books and experience. When she was older, she decided to work in a potions' shop, but hated the restrictions placed on her. Kathie grew to hate her job, and her love for potions waned, but it wasn't until she healed a child who was thought to have an incurable disease secretly by giving the child tonics Kathie believed had a chance at helping her through her illness. That child was Lorelai; after she recovered, Lorelai begged to become Kathie's apprentice. By Kathie's request, Lorelai lied and told her parents and everyone else that her body simply fought the virus on its own. Kathie didn't want a lot of people knowing about her skills, as she didn't want to be confined by strict regulations any longer. Kathie started her own potion's shop; Lorelai helps her out.
To get here:
There's two different ways
One way is to find Lorelai; she frequents a bread shop called Crumb Hours at 8AM-10AM to read a book and eat before she goes to work (Mon-Fri)
Ask her if she's reading Time of Barbury by Guinevere Roth; she'll say yes, and she'll ask you to join her on her walk back to The Dew Drop at 10AM
Another way is to find the way to the shop yourself
To do this, go to the same bakery that Lorelai likes to go to, Crumb Hours, and go down the alleyway located between the bakery and Utred's Lenses
Go straight down until you reach the area where the path deviates; go left, continue down the path until you come across a fork
Go down the middle path; then knock on a door labelled The Dew Drop
Notice that the area is not the shop is not selling any potions-- only herbs
Lorelai will answer; tell her if she's selling the book Time of Barbury
She'll nod, and she'll take you down a trapdoor, which you lead you to the actual store
Once you see Kathie, you know you're in the right place
Some tips:
Katherine prefers to go by Kathie!
Ok so do note that the regulations placed on potions and tonics are there to (obviously) make sure that potions and stuff are safe to consume, but since it's so strict, it's hard to be innovative, and use different kinds of ingredients and recipes to make potions
"but what about weapons?"
You'll need to go to a shop that specifically caters to your weapon type; if the store sells weapons that aren't closely related to each other (like swords, bows, and scythes), it's unlikely that to shop is of the best quality. if a shop sells only daggers and swords, that means that the people making the equipment are actually specialized in making those weapons. Since there are so many weapon types, I don't think I can make shopkeepers for each!
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aryesdanger24 · 5 hours ago
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I'm done with comparisons here.
I need everyone to understand right here and right now.
Everyone had a good ending that befitted their character arc!
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Spoilers below for the ending of Season 2 of Arcane, be advised.
We can be mad about Jayvik dying and not getting an absolute confirmation (though some may argue it is pretty clear) .
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Some can be mad that there wasn't enough verbally said to add that romantic nature to CaitVi (once again, some may believe they have done more than enough)
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IT ISNT A CONTEST!
I personally we are fortunate to have an ending that truly feels complete in some way. It was a good ending overall for everyone expectation wise.
Most of the time we get a physical show of love to confirm anything gay whereas lesbians often say some soft confirmation of love to be 'official' but this gave what media needed.
Lesbians showing a very physical and verbal show of their love while men are having their soft confirmation through verbalizing their love.
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It's wonderful, even if you are unsatisfied by the ending for your ship (if you have one) that's why we have fanfiction, to explore what could have been.
You got a problem with the finale, write a what-if spinoff or write how it should have ended or what happened after the official ending.
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Stop comparing Jayvik, CaitVi, and Time bomb. It's a waste of your time when you could be writing what you wished would happen in fanfic.
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Be happy that the ending is something you can work with, be happy the possibility exists with a solid world built to utilize.
Heck, don't like the world? Build an AU (alternate universe) for them! Make them coffee shop owners, have them be military personnel, make them crazy European tourists!
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Do something constructive and add to your Fandom instead of tearing down someone else's.
Getting mad at someone else's ship or flaunting about your own having a better ending is a waste of time and just literally detrimental to the show itself. Respect Arcane and what it was able to accomplish without push back, it is able to walk firmly because previous shows and their small steps.
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So, in short, behave yourself. This may be the internet but your words stay forever. Don't try to bolster the status of your ship by pulling down someone else's.
If you feel called out by this, evaluate your recent behavior.
If you feel offended by this, really think about why you feel this way, because it probably isn't because of my language.
Yes yes, I know comparing shows is how we understand and make progress, but I am specifically talking about unhelpful dissertations or memes that specify a ship.
It's fine to write a logical explanation of why you prefer a different ship. It's absolutely fine to explain how something could have been better or evaluate the show and what it has done and could do better.
What's not fine is bashing it because your ship didn't have what you deem a good ending.
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Not all people have good endings, not all characters will achieve their good ending despite how good they may be. That's simply the truth of reality and sometimes an author wants their story to mirror their idea of truth.
Respect the show and the work people put in it, and respect that someone else's joy does not deserve your anger just out spite.
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usmsgutterson · 12 hours ago
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We Could Leave The Christmas Lights Up Til January - S.R x reader
I am typing this authors note and feeling like the friend who's like "ITS CHRISTMAS" from the like. middle of the month forward when I'm actually the friend who reminds you how close it is to christmas or the new year bc I don't want to face that knowledge by myself and suffer well with others.
This was written as a through-the-years style fic. It'll have fifteen chapters which will correspond with the og fifteen seasons of criminal minds (I have not watched seasons sixteen or seventeen, please do not judge me lol) and three scenes per chapter, one set in November, one set on or around Christmas, and the last set at some point after it. The reader is also a fiber artist but if stuff relating to that comes up, I will make a note of whichever terms I need to.
Fic type - this is largely fluff!
Warnings - the reader in this has a slightly similar, but also somewhat dramatized version of my family dynamics bc I wrote this whenever the knit projects I was working on frustrated me and when writing the dynamics it just HAPPENED, but then I edited it so that the dynamics wouldn't hit SUPER HARD if I ever reread it. Otherwise, booze is mentioned a bit, and there is swearing present bc I apparently am incapable of writing a fic without dropping an f'bomb.
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When you leave the office that night, it's half-past seven on a Friday in November. You and the rest of the team have the weekend off, and while Penelope and the others had gone out for drinks, you'd gotten back from a case in Miami that morning and had said no to the offer when she'd made it.
You had really just wanted to get home, if you were being honest. You told her you couldn't swing it because of plans already made with someone else, but Garcia didn't need to know that those plans were a glass of wine, Loops 'N Threads Classic Cotton and a crochet hook to work up some dishcloths in lieu of anything too expensive for your aunts christmas gift, or that the someone else you had plans with was your DVR so that you could catch up on the five episodes of Prison Break you'd missed because of the way that cases and work had been piling up.
She also didn't need to know that the wine your mother had given you would have a spot, or that after you were caught up with Prison Break you'd probably order and eat your way through an entire pizza from Antonios while watching a documentary about lemon sharks. Your Friday nights were your own, and even though you adored everyone on the team, you would seldom give up your Friday night ritual of doing a craft while watching whichever cable TV you needed to catch up on or whichever one the network of your choice had been running a marathon of, even if giving it up meant giving up dinner, drinks, and laughter amongst yourself and the rest of the team.
So, as you and Spencer are heading out—Spencer had declined Penelopes offer but hadn't specified his reasons as to why—he looks at you with a knowing sort of smile.
"Crocheting and Antonios?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow.
You nod once, lips pursing just a little while you mentally ready yourself for any oncoming judgement. "Mhm," you nod. "I have a bottle of red I wanna drink, so it'll be a tipsy crocheting night, I think."
"That sounds fun," he says. "Enjoy it."
"What're your plans for the night?" You ask. You've been with the team since six months after Spencer had joined up. You'd joined, under Hotch's wing, at the age of nineteen where Spencer had joined up under Gideons when he was twenty.
He shrugs. "I was thinking about calling my mom, seeing how she's doing," he says. "I try to call her at least once every so often and I do my best to write, but—it's just—"
"Maintaining those kinds of relationships isn't that easy," you nod. "I mean—my parents just live in my hometown so the circumstances are different, but I get it, even if it's to a lesser degree."
You don't really talk to your parents, and they don't really talk to you, and it's been that way since you went to the FBI Academy when you were eighteen. You came to DC after being hired by the BAU and they stayed in Maine, and things have been like that in the five years since you left the state.
"Your mom came around recently, right?"
You nod. "She was in town for a bit, but she came down while we were working on a case so I only got to see her a few times before she was heading back to Maine." She'd come up at the start of October, while you were working a case out of state, and she'd left six days after you'd returned from the case. In that time, you'd seen her at breakfast, lunch and dinner on three separate days. She'd left you the wine as a gift because she hated red and needed to pass it off, but you loved red wine so it was fine.
"Was it a good visit?"
"It was—well—it was fine," you laugh.
"That's the nicest way to put it?"
"Calling it fine is me being stellar," you laugh again. "Being kind, being gratiuitous, even. It was less than fine, but it could've been worse, and other visits of hers have been by miles."
Your relationship with your mother has been somewhat contentious since you were a teen, but she comes down once every few months and unless a case or something better comes up, you usually try to book Christmas off to spend it with your parents and sisters in Maine. This year, a bigger part of you than not is hoping that Christmas is disrupted by a case somewhere completely out of Maines reach, like Nevada or California or even the likes of Alaska, which has got to be some snowy hellstorm in the wintertime, though you can't say.
"You gonna go down for Christmas?" Spencer asks, laughing a little. He knows some of what your relationships with your family are like—knows that you and your mother have a difficult time finding common ground, knows that you and your father don't get along but have found some weird little middleground where you can exist without screaming at each other. He knows that you and your older sister are sort of friendly but only really mildly close, and that you and your other older sister don't talk often and see each other even less than the sparing conversations you have throughout the year—and he always looks at you kind of pitifully when your mother gets brought into the conversation, but there's been less and less pity as the years have passed, more sympathy.
"I don't want to," you laugh. "I really, really hope we get a case in Nevada or somewhere that even my mother wouldn't be able to justify asking me to drive down to Maine from. Like—I'd love it if we got a case in Alaska the day before Christmas Eve, honestly. I know it's not gonna happen, but—Christmas with them, my aunt, and my uncle? No. I can't subject myself to that without a whole lot of booze."
Spencer laughs, shakes his head a little bit. "You'll be fine," he says. "I won't hope that a case comes up at Christmas, but if one does, I'll buy you a victory tea."
"Why?"
"Because I know you love your family—you're hardwired to love them—but you hate Christmas with them, and I don't really like the thought of you being where you don't want to be because of family ties and guilt."
You laugh. "If it gets too dreary, promise you'll answer my call?"
"Yeah," Spencer nods. "Of course, but what if I call you first?"
"I will answer so quick," you laugh again, shrugging. "Seriously. Whether it's you or Hotch, I will take literally any excuse I can get to slip out from whichever room I'm in to the back porch just so I can talk to someone who isn't my aunt for a few minutes."
"Looking forward to that," Spencer says.
You smile, turning away as you do to hide it. It feels like an awesome ending to a mediocre day and you're grateful for that.
-
When your phone rings at five o'clock something along the lines of five weeks later, it's Christmas Eve. You've spent the last couple of hours alternating between cheap screw top rose and a jack and coke, occasionally swapping both options out for a hot chocolate that you spike with kahlua and a splash of baileys, and when your phone rings, the sound of it is a welcome reprieve.
You tuck a mug of boozed up hot cocoa into your right hand, answering the phone with your left as you dismiss yourself out to the back porch, standing amidst snow that's, by that point, a couple days old. A fresh coat is due to fall any day now, but by the time it does you'll probably already be back in DC.
"Hey," you greet. "How's Christmas on your end?"
"It's good," Spencer answers. "How is it on yours?"
"It's amazing."
"You've been drinking?"
"Jack Daniels, cheap rose, and the occasional spiked hot chocolate," you laugh a little. "It's making everyone more tolerable."
"Thats good," Spencer says. "Don't forget to drink water, though. It'll make you less hungover tomorrow morning."
"Yeah," you nod. "I've drank plenty of water—hangover headaches are fuckin' awful, and I don't feel like dealing with that tomorrow morning. A headache on top of dealing with my aunt? I couldn't put myself through that kind of torture."
"How've things been with you and your mom?"
"So far I haven't done anything to piss her off yet, which is surprising," you laugh. "Normally she's leaping down my throat the second I do something like use a tone that she thinks is amiss or defend my dad where she doesn't agree with him. I'll say something stupid and she'll yell at me before midnight though, I'm sure."
"Try to be a little optimistic," Spencer says. "I mean—just—take it easy. Don't do anything too nuts, okay? I know you well enough to know you have Prison Break on one of the DVRs in that house, and I also know that you know your own limits. Don't push yourself past them."
"I won't," you say. You know yourself well enough to know that you're probably lying, but you brought your needles and a skein of yarn so worst case you can just knit and keep your mouth shut, hopefully not miscounting any of your stitches in your drunken state. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay? I get in around ten on boxing day too, so—coffee?"
"Coffee," Spencer says. "Merry Christmas, Y/N."
"Merry Christmas, Spencer," you respond, hanging up the phone thereafter. You stay outside for another few minutes, drinking your hot chocolate, watching the sky and prolonging the time between then and your next interactions with your relatives.
Eventually, when you go back in, you're met with a sly look from your aunt and a suspicious look in your mothers eyes, while your father and uncle chat about current events and your sisters are busy in a game of Uno.
"You got a boyfriend?" Your aunt asks, her smile cheeky.
You grimace. "No!" You say, beelining for the kitchen and the bottle of Barefoot brand zinfandel. "No—it's—it isn't like that. A friend had planned to call and I didn't say no."
"Oooh, a friend," your mother teases. "That's quite vague, Y/N."
You nod, finishing the last sip of hot chocolate in your mug and rinsing it out, setting it in your favored corner of the kitchen counter and reaching for the wine glass you'd left in that same area.
"Intentionally so," you laugh. "You two are so nosy. I love you both to bits and pieces, but—it's not anything like what you're thinking. The friend is a coworker."
You reach for the bottle of zinfandel and pour an amount that just barely skirts the edge of avoiding being obscene, putting the cap back on and leaving it on the counter along with the rest of the alcoholic companions that will reside on the countertop until at some point tomorrow, when the drinks are switched out from booze and beer to soda and water.
"You two will be an item in five years, I guarantee it," your aunt says. "Seriously. You don't be vague about someone with your family unless there are feelings there, Y/N."
You laugh a little more, taking a sip of your wine and debating rummaging through the fridge to find the brownies that you'd hidden in the back of the fridge for when the drunken cravings kicked in.
"I've been vague with you people about women coworkers," you retort. "I've been vague about mentors who are older than Dad. I'm vague about lots of things."
"You should open up," your uncle says. "Nobody likes a closed off little snowflake who wants to appear mysterious."
"Trust is earned," the older of your two sisters retorts. "You have to trust people to want to open up to them."
"Do you not trust us?" Your mother asks, looking at you with pain in her eyes.
Not like I did when I was a kid, you think. "I do! I just—work life and family life are two separate things to me. If I were as open as you guys want me to be, telling you work stories and funny office anecdotes, you'd all want to hear less about my job."
"Being an FBI agent can't be that hard," your uncle retorts.
"You say that as a man who's never watched someone you love like a sibling get shot at," you retort. "You've never seen someones body missing parts, or seen someone who narrowly evaded a serial killer shaking with grief and with survivors guilt already starting to manifest. I love you all, but not one of you understands what it's like, and I wouldn't wish you did across a thousand lifetimes."
Nobody knows what to say, but the look in your eldest sisters eyes is clear—she's proud.
"Well maybe you should work in a different area," your aunt says.
"I wouldn't trade my job or my coworkers for anything," you respond. "The plus sides make up for the drawbacks tenfold."
Things go a little quiet after that, and you eventually grab the bottle of Zinfandel and retreat back out to the back porch, not caring how cold it is.
You stare at the sky for ages, drinking your way through the entire bottle of zinfandel as you do. You're half asleep when your phone rings again, and you pick it up as you make back inside, figuring the rest of your family had gone to bed as well.
"Hey," Spencer greets. "Just calling to check in again."
"Hi," you respond. "Everyone else has gone to sleep, I think—nobody is in the kitchen or the living room, and if I don't hit the hay I'll be dead on my feet tomorrow morning."
"Do you have any sports drinks around?" Spencer asks. "The elctrolytes in them will help replenish the potassium and the salt that you lose after a lot of drinking. Bouillion soup also serves the same purpose, and water is basically universally known as the one thing you should consistently drink between alcoholic beverages."
"My mother gets a twelve pack of the fruit punch Gatorade, puts it in the fridge and normally will make the drunkest of us chug a bottle before we conk out, so I'm gonna grab one and then chug it and head to bed. Thank you for calling to check in, Spencer. It means a lot."
You head for the fridge and keep to your word, opening it and grabbing one of the gatorades.
"It's no problem," Spencer says. "I've know you—how long now?"
"Four entire years," you laugh, closing the fridge and pressing your forehead against the metal door of the freezer on top of it. "Oh, God. Four years of working at the BAU. That is a surefire way to make me feel old."
"How old do you think you'll feel when you've been working there for a decade?"
"Absolutely, positively, ancient," you say. "Oh my God—thirty three? That is not an age I can picture. Asking me to picture that while I'm drunk feels like such a low blow, Reid."
"How about twenty-eight?"
"I'm starting to think you just like the sound of my voice," you retort, laughing a little as you compose yourself just enough to turn your phone onto speaker and set it on the counter. You lean against the counter and take the screw top off of your gatorade, sighing a little. "Are you asking me if I have a five year plan, Dr. Reid?"
"Yeah," he says. "Yes is the answer to both your statement and your question."
"Well, in five years, I'll be twenty-eight," you start. "I'd like it very much if I were still on the team, and if I am, that means nine years at the BAU. I'm going to get better at knitting and finally stop knitting things for people who don't offer to buy the yarn or otherwise compensate, I think. I make things free for ungrateful people too often. Maybe even adopt a kitten or take in a shelter dog. Fuck—Reid, I can't really even decide what I'm going to do in the next five minutes, let alone the next five years."
You chug the gatorade as you think about it—a bigger apartment would be nice, one that's closer to work would be nicer still. One with a good view of the city, maybe a library or a liquor store within walking distance, if not a Michaels or a Joanns.
You've always been more of a cat person but you have a ridiculously insurmountable softspot for greyhounds and pitbulls, so if you thought you could take in an animal in the coming years, you would have the knowledge and the background to give them a good home.
You'd maybe want to change up your hair color, if the drunken opportunity presented itself. A change in appearance feels like the sort of thing a person finds necessary at the age of twenty four, in the last year before the brain fully develops and stuff starts changing bit by bit.
"I think I'll still be on the team," Spencer says. "I know it. I love what we get to do everyday, Y/N. Helping people? Saving lives? We do good. We're good people."
"What else do you think about the next five years?" You ask, your voice quiet.
"I think I'll still be living in my same apartment, and that I'll still bicker and get into prank wars with Morgan," Spencer says. "I think I'll still play chess against Gideon on the jet home, and I'll still love to learn anything I can. I know for sure I'm still going to be trying to get you to watch Dr. Who with me, though I hope you agree to watch it after five years of attempts at cajoling you to."
You laugh, and the air takes on a somber kind of tone. "Maybe," you say. "Not likely, but maybe, Reid. Look—I'm going to go to bed so that I can just deal with tomorrows probable hangover head on, but thank you for calling me not once, but twice tonight. I really needed some company that wasn't a little bit of an asshole."
"Yeah, of course," Spencer says. "I—well—merry Christmas, Y/N."
"Goodnight, Spencer," is how you bid him adieu, hanging up the phone thereafter. You throw the gatorade bottle into the recycling and head off to the room you'd claimed, turning the tv onto a low volume and falling asleep with The Muppet Christmas Carol beginning to play in the background.
-
"How was everyones Christmas?" Garcia asks, practically buzzing with excitement as she comes out into the bullpen. Spencer is leaning against your desk, the two of you talking about nothing in particular when she comes around, and Garcia looks at you with a happy grin. "How was Maine?"
"It was Maine," you shrug. "Snowed. A lot. In turn, everyone in my family drank. A lot."
"Oh," Garcia shakes her head. "Too many people and too much booze is God awful."
You shrug. "My parents, my sisters, and my aunt and my uncle hardly felt like too many," you say. "And the amount of booze in which I indulged hardly felt like too much."
"You had a lot," Spencer retorts, looking at you skeptically. "I got a text Christmas morning, if memory serves—"
"A text to thank you for being so nice," You fire back, cutting him off. "Totally not asking you for hangover cures. I would never."
Spencer shakes his head, laughing slightly. You grin, taking a sip of the tea he'd brought you that morning.
"Yeah," he says. "I didn't get a text asking for the ultimate hangover cure-all. I guess I must've remembered it wrong."
Your grin widens, and you nod. "Guess so. How were things with your Mom?"
"They were great," Spencer says. "I had a good time."
"I'm glad," you respond. "Your mother sounds pleasant."
"She is," Spencer nods. "I'd hate to spend more than an hour with yours though."
"She's comin' here in June," you fire back, leaning back in your chair as your grin morphs from grin to smirk. "Be careful for the next six months, Reid, or I'll invite you to dinner with her, myself, and my father."
"That sounds like some form of mideval torture," Derek fires, laughing. Spencer shakes his head.
"Not if Y/Ns there," he murmurs. You take another sip of your tea to avoid seeming flustered to the rest of the team, and Spencer sighs when JJ comes around. You sit up in your chair, already anticipating her next words.
"We have a case," she says. "A series of deaths in Witchita. Briefing room in ten!"
You and Spencer exchange a look. There are only a few days left of it, but it looks like the last of 2005 is due to be a whirlwind.
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nervouswhizkid · 19 hours ago
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i. am so mad. i'm mad at season 4 and at every one of you that interacted with my last post abt vld season 3. i know u were all sitting there giggling at me as i walked into s4 knowing full well it was going to destroy me. no WARNING??? i don't even want to sit down and write about it, i'm gonna start crying all over again
i hate that keith left the team. i have to actually practice breathing techniques right now because it's making me so mad omg. i know i said last time that voltron without lance was unthinkable, but i didn't mean that keith should leave. THAT IS NOT WHAT I WANTED!!!! that also means that there was less keith (and klance) content this season, which i take personally. they did that to hurt me specifically. and on top of that, the team was being so mean about keith's wavering priorities. i feel like when anything goes wrong, with lance and keith specifically, everyone is so mean to them??? god forbid they make a mistake or have personal struggles, DAMN
i feel like this screencap says it all.
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guys how about let's talk to each other instead of being passive aggressive and icing people out (i do want to point out though that lance seems more sad/disappointed here than anything. my little klance heart is breaking 😭) AND THIS SCENE??
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the moment i realized keith was about to walk in my stomach dropped. they all look so angry and here comes Mister Puppy Eyes McGee. i actually can't take it that's my son everyone leave him alone!!! 🤺🤺🤺🤺 i know they had a big group hug after but that's not good enough for me, they should have tied keith up or handcuffed him to the ship, or something. WHY ARE WE LETTING HIM GO WITH THE BLADE OHMYGODDDD
look at this, like??
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the camera setup is what gets me. you have keith smiling with all of his friends in the background and then it swaps to a dark, yawning hallway with the most heartbreaking frown on his face. that doesn't look like someone sure of their decisions to me. this boy is in pain!! i'm also just confused about shiro being able to pilot the black lion. maybe confused isn't the right word, but i'm not sure how to describe it. i'm not convinced?? black already denied him, so why now? i kinda feel like it would've been better had he not tried to reconnect with her at the end of last season, because there was no suspense for me this time. the moment he decided to go try again i was like "oh it's gonna work this time isn't it" i get that it's likely black could sense keith's internal struggles and feel him pulling away and maybe that's why she gave shiro a second chance, but shiro becoming the black paladin again gave keith the excuse to leave, because why do they need him now? they have a black paladin, and it's not him. but to me, it should have been. he went through all of that growth last season, and for what?? just to abandon them when things get rocky?? ugh, i hate this!!
i can't even talk about episode 2 without crying, so just know that i'm sitting here with tears streaming down my face as i write this. i was really excited to finally get some closure on the whole pidge-missing-family mystery, considering that's been a subplot since the beginning of the show. as much as this episode broke my heart, i really did love it. they executed it so well. the scene where pidge lands on that planet with the graves? and they're running and pleading for it to not be true, all the flashbacks of cherished memories and images of matt? dropping to her knees in front of his grave in disbelief??
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now that's fucking cinema. you best believe i was bawling my eyes out the whole time. i have a little sister and our relationship is very similar to pidge and matt's, so this was just excruciating. i'm very glad he wasn't actually dead, but part of me almost wishes he was? that sounds SO dark, i hope you guys get what i mean. they just put the audience through the absolute wringer and then they're like "oh, actually he's still alive LOL gotcha!" and that makes me really happy for pidge, but man, what a plot twist that would have been. they've been searching for their brother all this time, so you expect some kind of payoff for dedicating so much time to that storyline, but what if he was just dead?? and there was nothing she could do?? wow this is painful to talk about why did i start watching this show if there's a fic where someone explores that possibility then pls share, for some reason i want to torture myself again, i just love how they did this episode. it's very trope-y, but sometimes you just have to lean into it and enjoy, and this was one of those times
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the classic fighting-each-other-unknowingly and middle-of-the-fight-identity-reveal? i'll eat it up every time!!
real talk though why is matt so attractive 😏
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soo, zarkon is back. fantastic. do he and haggar just not care about each other?? they haven't mentioned the fact that they're married at all and haggar basically still acts like his loyal follower. i'd entertain the thought that maybe it's been so long that it just doesn't really matter to them anymore, but haggar sounded like she actually cared when she realized they were husband and wife last season. but now it's like nothing happened?? i don't expect them to act all lovey-dovey, but there wasn't even a single line of acknowledgment. and i still cannot understand what lotor's plans are. what is his agenda? he wasn’t bothered at all by zarkon reclaiming the throne, and even went to the trouble to make them think he cared. he got that comet and made a couple of ships, but i still don't know what he plans to do with them. also– i can't believe he killed narti!! i know, i was literally just talking about how she specifically frustrated me, but i was so not expecting their death. i get why he did it, but now the rest of his group doesn't trust him.
i'd say that the one bright spot in this season was episode four. that episode was just so silly and gave me so much secondhand-embarrassment i actually had to look away at times LMAO is this where we got the whole Loverboy Lance and Lone Wolf Keith thing from?? i thought that was purely fandom-made, i was not expecting to hear that in an actual episode. talk about whiplash. and we got this ICONIC scene:
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he did that wayyy too naturally. lance, buddy, got anything to share?
i really would have loved to see keith with the team during that episode. i can just imagine how he would've reacted to having to do all of that stuff. god, that would've been hysterical!! the images of the parasite in coran's brain made me gag though, was that really necessary🧍‍♀️
i don't have a ton to say about the final episodes. i mean, it was two episodes of them fighting on naxzela. it was definitely a bit of an avengers endgame feeling with all people they helped in previous seasons showing up to fight, so that was cool! i'm curious as to what purpose naxzela served to the galra empire though. were they always planning to use it as a bomb? and couldn't they still do that technically? they only broke the witches connection with it, so all they'd have to do is get another ship out there and she could do it again. what do you even do with a planet like that?? just destroy it?? i also just want to point out that lance said they should get out of there immediately, and nobody listened!! and then five seconds later they were like "oh no, we need to get out of here!" justice for lance i stg ohmygod and LOTOR is on their side now?!?!?! i actually can't wait to see how this plays out!! total transparency, i love atla and i could absolutely see this being a zuko redemption arc situation. it's clear his parents don't like him at all (are they actually heartless or something??) so why not join the other side!! I'M HERE FOR IT
i have to be honest, this definitely wasn't my favorite season. we're getting into the later seasons and i've heard plenty about how the writing goes a little left-field (though i'm not sure when that happens. most people seem to agree season 8 is shit, but i've heard complaints about s6-7 as well) so we'll just have to see! i'm sticking it out as best i can🚶‍♀️‍➡️ onto season 5!
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