#the more i learn about him the worst it gets

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Sweet like chocolate

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 23

Prompt: Hot Chocolate

Rated: T

Tags: Post-Vecna; Vampire Eddie; Bloodbank Steve; Sexual Tension; Blood Drinking; Pining; Eddie has a crush on Steve

When Eddie walks into the living room, Steve is on the sofa with two mugs sitting on the table.

“Finally,” he says. “I thought they'd get cold before you moved your broody ass down here.”

Eddie grinds to a stop.

“What the fuck?” he finally mutters, inching closer like a wild animal smelling a trap. The scent that hits him makes his stomach give a violent, empty lurch. Sweet and creamy and heavy. “What's this?” 

“Hot chocolate,” Steve replies, picking up one mug to take a generous sip. The other one, he nudges towards Eddie. “You said you used to like it.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says slowly. “Used to. That's the problem, Steve.” 

He did. He used to love hot chocolate. The sweet, rich taste of it, the whipped cream and marshmallows on top. It used to be one of his favorite things in the world. 

And then he died. 

Which blows on so many levels, really. He can't go out in the sunlight, he's always freezing, and he must’ve given himself approximately two dozen accidental lip and tongue piercings before he figured out how to draw in the fucking fangs.

But the absolute worst part are his newly acquired dietary needs. 

So yeah. Maybe he's been a bit grouchy about it. Which probably isn't entirely fair to Steve.

After all, the guy has not only opened his home to him, offering him a place to lie low while the rest of the Party figure out this unfortunate situation. He's also been offering so much more.

“I thought we might try something,” Steve's voice tears him from his thoughts. When he pats the free spot next to him, the collar of his sweater slips, revealing the never-quite-fading bruise on his neck. “Sit?” 

Eddie does. He doesn't think Steve realizes how much he'd do, simply because he asked. Steve takes another long sip from his mug, then gestures for Eddie to take the other one. There's a thin film of whipped cream on his upper lip, and Eddie finds he needs to look away. 

“What are you trying to do?” he mutters at the little marshmallows in his cup. It's warm as he takes it and cradles it between his cold hands. His fingers never seem to get warm anymore. “Tease me? You know I can't drink this.” 

“I know,” Steve confirms. “But you can pretend.” 

Eddie wrinkles his brow at him. 

“You know how you told me that you can sort of … tell when I've had lots of sweet or spicy stuff to eat?” Steve asks. The bruise on his neck darkens as he blushes, just a little. “How the taste is different? I thought we could- … I know it’ll probably not be the same, but…” 

He trails off and averts his eyes, suddenly bashful, and that’s the exact moment it clicks into place for Eddie. 

“You want me to feed while you drink this? Like what, second-hand hot chocolate?” 

Steve snorts, blush darkening. “Yeah, nevermind, it was a stupid idea.”

He makes to get off the sofa, but Eddie holds him back with a hand around his wrist. He’s absurdly strong, these days, but he’s learning how to control it. 

“It’s not stupid,” he blurts before Steve can say anything else. “I… It might work, but …Are you sure?” 

Steve smiles. “Sure, why not? You feed from me all the time.” 

But not like this, Eddie wants to say. Not all soft and cozied up on the sofa, with the lights low and hazy, Steve's warmth bleeding into his own, cold skin. Not like it is anything other than a strict necessity. Not like it means anything. 

“Yeah,” he hears himself mutter. His body develops a mind of its own, inching towards that warmth, that thrum, as if pulled on an invisible string. “Yeah, you're right.” 

“Right,” Steve says. He, too, sounds just a little breathless. He takes another long gulp of his drink, throat bobbing, and Eddie feels his fangs slide out and saliva gather on his tongue, hunger coiling low in his stomach like a living thing. And then, Steve puts down his mug and leans back, baring that perfect long neck, and the hunger explodes into pure, primal want.

He's in Steve’s lap before he even knows he moved, fangs piercing the familiar spot. Steve's taste floods his senses, sweet and rich and heavy, and so, so addictive. He moans, and Steve’s pulse kicks against his lips. Steve has gone perfectly still - bar for the light hitch of his breath, the barely there stutter of his heart, the minute twitch of his fingers in Eddie’s hair, almost like he's trying to draw him closer. Almost like he's enjoying this. 

It's torment, forcing himself to pull back, but Eddie does it. For a few seconds, they sit and stare at each other, jagged breaths mingling in the space between them. 

“Good?” Steve asks. His pupils are large and fuzzy, his lips pick and lightly parted, still with traces of whipped cream clinging to them. Eddie wonders if his body would reject it if he licked it off. 

“Yeah,” Eddie whispers. “Yeah, great.” 

The mug is still in his hands, warmth seeping into his fingers, his arms, his blood. He leans in. 

And the walkie on the table crackles alive. 

“Steve? Eddie?” says Dustin’s voice. “Do you copy? We've got something you should see.” 

Eddie groans as Steve slips out from under him and stands. 

“Hey, don't pout,” Steve says, taking the walkie. “Maybe it's a lead on how to turn you back. Let's go check it out. I can make more hot chocolate once we get back.” 

Then, he's gone, talking to Dustin on the walkie while he runs off to get his car keys. Eddie stays on the sofa until he comes back and throws his jacket in his face.

For the first time in weeks, he isn't cold anymore. 

More holiday drabbles

[gay-dorito-dust]

Jason will forever be my comfort character, forever and always

Jason knew from an early age that love was conditional. This was especially more so if you lived in Gotham, and if that was the case then love was more or less something that’s purely transactional. The moment you lose the ability to give anything to someone else, you’re more then likely left to die in an alleyway or in a far away abandoned warehouse that was rigged to blow up.

Love was a weapon utilised in every possible way then what it was meant to be used for, and so Jason didn’t grow up with a very good experience with love or what others claimed as love.

Yet he read books where love was pure, love was powerful and empowering to the people who had the chance to experience it, love was scary and brutal as it was beautiful and something everyone desires to have in their life; whether or not it was real for everyone will chase after it blindly and carelessly as though their self worth was dependent on such an emotion.

He’s read books where love could break someone so badly that they can’t get up, where love can cause more cuts and wounds than knives and other weapons could ever inflict. He’s read books where love has left people wonder their self worth and if anyone else could love them as deeply and truly as the person who had just walked out of the door.

However Jason wondered that if people did love that deeply, wouldn’t you want to stay with that person even through the toughest times of their lives? Help them pull through instead of abandoning them when they were in the most need of their life? To Jason that didn’t sound like love at all as he couldn’t help but see himself in these characters that only saw the worst in themselves, truly believing that love wasn’t for them nor ever will in how their entire lives was the biggest example of such.

However all that changed with time the moment you entered his life and for good.

Jason was on the defensive as his eyes wouldn’t leave you as all you did was simple things for him unprovoked, unwarranted, as though you wanted to do these things for him. You would care for his books as though they were irreplaceable while rearranging them in alphabetical order, clean his weaponry and armour before he could early in the morning, and even would him breakfast in the morning when you noticed that he didn’t eat nearly as much as he should to properly function.

Jason didn’t know how to feel, nor how he could repay you back in response and even when he did, you would just brush him off and tell him that you could handle it, telling him that he shouldn’t worry about doing anything for you purely because you did things for him one day.

‘I just wanted to do these things for you.’ You tell him with a smile. ‘You’re a busy man and you don’t have nearly enough time to catch up to everything and I merely wanted to help clear your schedule somewhat while you’ve got your hand full.’ You add and Jason could only stare at you.

‘You wanted to?’ He said with a raised brow. ‘Sweetheart, there’s no such thing as people doing things for others out of the kindness of their heart, everyone wants something in the end as nobody is above their own desires.’ He then crossed his arms over his chest as a look of unconvincing overcame his face at your words.

You frown at this but didn’t hold such views against him, Gotham wasn’t a city where love was genuine and not corrupt nor unhealthy to some extent, if anything your heart ached for him as you could only imagine a young Jason having to learn this cruel lesson in the worst possible way; one that left a permeant scar upon his heart that would ache painfully as a reminder that in a city of Gotham love didn’t exist unless it was for transactional or conventional purposes for even more corrupt figureheads.

‘Love shouldn’t be used to hurt people, it should be used to help people and allow them to gain the strength to let others into their heart and trusting that person to not stab them in the back, love should be used between friends, family and lovers and no one else who could corrupt an innocent emotion such as love.’ You stepped closer to him as you watched his eyes and the flickering of emotions within them as his jaw clench and he would straighten his posture as though he was trying to scare you off with his height, it wasn’t working.

‘Love should help you realise that the love you’ve been receiving is not love at all, Jason you deserve love much like everyone else, for someone will look at you and see a beautiful man with scars that tell stories that they can only hope you’ll be ready to share with one day at your own comfortability.’ You finished as you rested your hand upon his bicep, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch, as your thumb caresses a faint scar of his. It wasn’t a touch tender as anything Jason had experienced before and it both frightened and intrigued him at how much he needed this.

Had he found the love that the books he’s read in the past promised? That child in him said yes with such an eagerness, but he was still uncertain but knew that he felt safer with you than he did anyone else, and that was certainly a start in his eyes.

[soo0hee]

Fallen for you

Pairing — Lee Seokmin [DK] x gn!Reader

Summary — You weren't happy about having to go Ice Skating knowing very well that you were not good at it, but maybe it was just what you needed to get your man

Genre — fluff, friends to lovers au

Warnings — tension, first kiss

Word Count — 0.8k

Rating — sfw 🍵

A/N — Here comes your Secret Santa with your gift @lovetaroandtaemin , i hope you like it!✨️

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©soo0hee on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

„I will fall.“ You deadpanned unimpressed when you stared at Seungkwan who held up the Skates for you to take.

“I will. Fall.” You said again, you words almost like a promise for the future but your friend yet again waved your concern of to force the skates into your hands

Not entirely sure how you had gotten roped into Ice Skating with your friends when you loathed the cold with your entire being, but somehow there you stood. Wrapped in your winter coat, a scarf so big you could use it as a blanket around your neck and a hat with cat ears that Seungkwan had gifted you the year before placed on your head.

The worst thing wasn’t even the cold or that you would surely fall flat on your face as soon as you would step on the ice, no. It was that you would do all that not just in front of your friends but also in front of the one guy you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front off. Seokmin wouldn’t laugh at you, that you were sure off. But you’d still rather roll over dead then stalking around like a new born fawn learning to walk.

But knowing your friends, they would not let you just stand at the side and watch them so you accepted defeat. (More or less at least)

“I WILL FALL, BOO SEUNGKWAN!” You tried one last time, now sitting on one of the benches that were provided to slip the skates on and not daring to move a muscle.

You could hear them snicker at you, most of them already cruising around the frozen surface and kindly flipped them off. Jun gave you one right back with a bright smile which earned him a tongue stuck out at him.

Seungkwan rolled his eyes.

“Come on y/n! The ice will have melted by the time you get on it…”

Asshole.

“Aish Dkkkk, get her on here already….”

You would kill him.

The blond boy would die at your own hands sooner rather then later!

Wanting to wipe the shit eating grin off his face when Seokmin did in fact listen to him and came to the barricade of the rink where you were still sitting in your internal panic that you prayed to god, did not show on your face.

“I don’t want to…” you pouted up at him but only received a shake of his head with that dazzling smile on his face that always left you star struck. You watched in defeat how he Seokmin stepped of the ice to bend down, take your hands in his and pull you to your feet.

“Come now, I’ll help you.” He snickered at your reluctance.

“But Kyeom-ah–“

“Just keep holding my hands. I promise I won’t let you fall.”

His words had your cheeks heating tremendously but they shut you up and you followed his lead onto the ice.

The first step already proved to be quite the struggle as you quickly lost your footing upon contact with the frozen water.

Seokmin, slowly gliding backwards never let go.

“Just trust me.”

He guided you further along, preventing you from falling with every step you took while gentle praises for staying upright rained down on you. It made you blend out Seungkwan, Jun, Vernon and Gyu almost entirely. Eyes solely set on him just like his were on you.

“Take one step after the other, slowly. We have time so we don’t need to rush anything. One and two and one and two…”

You shivered, this time not because of the cold.

Following his instructions it was like you were in trance. Completely absorbed and concentrated you bit your lips, not noticing the way Seokmin’s eyes flickered down and neither did you notice how it affected him.

The man almost melted at the sight.

“Just like that and just keep your balance.”

“Isn’t that what I got you for?” you questioned shakily when your knees buckled.

Vernon, leaning against the barricade with the boys shook his head at the two of you.

“God how obvious can these two be?”

Jun and Seungkwan snorted at his words.

They watched the spectacle and how their friend carefully loosened his grip on you. Watched how you panicked, slingered and toppled down to the icy floor, pulling Seokmin right on top of you. They didn’t see how in the split of a second your lips suddenly touched his nor did they hear how you stuttered out a hasty apology that Seokmin simply ignored in favor of properly kissing you again.

The boys watching had to pick their jaws up from the floor at the sight.

“What even-“ Jun cursed with wide eyes.

Wide eyes that mirrored yours own.

“Don’t apologize. You have no idea how long I wanted to do this, so don’t say you are sorry because I’m not.”

“I told him I would fall.” You whispered into the space between your faces.

“For me too?” he asked tilting his head gently with a smile that almost blinded you.

“For you I have fallen ages ago.”

[sports-on-sundays]

this simple feeling / LN4 & OP81 / Part 3

Summary: Lando x female!Australian!McLaren marketing unit worker!reader x childhood best friend!Oscar - Two Formula 1 drivers who just so happen to race for McLaren also just so happen to have fallen for you. Link to part 1, link to part 2

Warnings: I think I might've messed up the timeline just alittle bit but that's okayyyy (probably should have all taken place like a week or two later but I only realized that after it was all written so I guess you'll just have to deal with it; I'm sincerely sorry), language, sickness, vertigo, let me know if there's more I missed

Requested?: To be honest, I don't think so, but let me know if I forgot about you.👍

A handsome smile adorns Lando Norris's lips as he strolls down the Spanish paddock, and it's extraordinary to believe that despite his outside cover, he has the most pounding headache.

It's all my fucking fault, his mind roars as he catches the eye of Max Verstappen walking past and gives him a friendly wave. Y/n is a nervous wreck over the whole situation, and Oscar seems like he's going to blow if he sees me show Y/n affection one more time.

Why did I ever fucking start this stupid, stupid 'relationship?' It's a mess, and it's all my fault.

And I've got no way of fixing it.

Maybe I should have just given up Y/n in the first place, before all this happened.

Maybe I am wrong for getting in the way of her and Oscar.

But a part of him knows that's not right. He could never give you up. You could never give him up. And neither of you could ever give up on Oscar.

Even though it's starting to look like that might just be the best for him. Or at least, the best option at this point.

After I've gone and messed it all up.

For once in his life, sleep won't just take Oscar Piastri.

It sounds stupid, because he shouldn't be going to sleep. Not here. Not now. But as he lay in his driver's room, all he wishes is for sleep to take him away from his never-ending thoughts into a peaceful, sweet, dreamless slumber.

But every time he tries to replace his current ones with new ones, his brain always leads him back to the main point:

You messed up.

He sighs. He's just being over dramatic, isn't he? Isn't that all it is? Shouldn't he just get over himself?

It's not that he doesn't like Lando. In fact, he does. A... well, a lot. He could see himself having real affection towards him.

He might even want to.

But that longing, confused part in his brain keeps coming back to: But what if Y/n loves him more? Isn't he just getting in the way of what you always wanted?

Isn't this unfair, Oscar?

But that's just the worst part of it all.

It's not unfair. Not one bit.

For your whole life, Oscar has known you. For years, he's cared about you. He's even loved you. He just never said it. Always held back. When he shouldn't have.

If he had just acted way before, in the beginning, it would've been just you and him. That's the way it would have been, and Lando would have never gotten in the way.

But, Oscar's brain whispers, almost like a sneaking suspicion, do you really want Lando out of this, now that he's in it?

Maybe I just have to learn to accept it. Accept him. Trust them both.

Do I just need to get over myself?

Because I am the only reason why this isn't working...

Right?

No one else can feel it, but it's getting awkward. Not even so much in private. In private, Lando is honest, and Oscar tries. In private, you see. They're not all lovey dovey, but they care about each other. It's like all is well, though you and Lando both know how Oscar can get.

But in public, it's worse. Terribly worse. It's like Lando and Oscar want to have something, but they can't. It's like Lando wants it but Oscar won't let him... and, at the same time, as if Oscar wants it but Oscar also won't let himself.

Why not?

In public, since they have to fake, it's like it's hard not to. Because they're closer than friends, but not more than that.

In private, they're trying to fake, so it almost comes easier.

But in public, they almost avoid each other at the same time as being super friendly with each other when they do have to talk.

You hate it.

A huge part of you wonders: If Oscar likes Lando back, why doesn't he just relax and let this whole thing work? Doesn't he need it?

Doesn't he need Lando, just the same way I need him?

He certainly acts like it. Sometimes. The only solution you can think of, though a not very clear or perhaps not very accurate one, and one with certainly no answer, is this:

He wants you more than anything. But he needs Lando more than anything.

But because he wants you so bad, it hurts him to see Lando having you.

Though he has you, too.

But he can't let himself break out and let himself love Lando back, because his feelings towards you are so incredibly strong.

You sigh.

Oscar. Why can't you just give up? Give in? Why can't I show you just how much I adore you?

What do I have to do to show you?

Is there anything I can do that would be enough?

You sigh. What if you're all wrong? What if Oscar really can't love Lando back? What if this whole thing is bound to fail?

What if there's absolutely no solution?

As anxiety begins to fill your chest, you feel as though you're right back at square one again.

Why didn't I just choose, from the beginning? Wouldn't it have been better to break one of their hearts, than all three of our hearts?

Because isn't that what is going on right now?

We're all breaking.

And we wouldn't be if I hadn't ever, ever let it get this fair.

Damn it.

It really is all my fault.

Maybe it's all the stress, or maybe it's just the natural way of things, but either way, by the time a week later that the Austrian Grand Prix comes around, you are in no world feeling well enough to go to it.

Of course, that's fine. You're sick; no one will have a problem with you staying home to rest up and get better. There are plenty of other people who can take care of your usual responsibilities for one race weekend. That's not really a big deal at all.

Of course, Lando and Oscar sure treated the whole thing as one, both of them talking about how one of them should stay with you, and how are you going to get on by yourself, and they feel like such bad boyfriends for leaving you in your unwell state, and so on. Blah, blah, blah.

Really, it was the sweetest thing. You know you shouldn't complain. But you did end up telling the two they were both wrong, not to worry, go race, and it's quite easy to FaceTime and stay in touch so they can check up on you over the weekend.

So despite whatever your boyfriends think about it, that's the decision you made sure was made, because there was no way you'd let either of them do something so ridiculous as to miss a race because of you.

Especially not the Austrian Grand Prix, for God's sake.

Well, whether Lando and Oscar would admit it or not, both of them, in their own little ways, see this as an opportunity for connection with each other.

One-on-one.

So now, of course, Lando has been the sole thing, other than racing, that's been on Oscar's mind all weekend. So much so that he finds himself wandering towards Lando's driver's room after qualifying, his heart leading the way more so rather than his head.

When he reaches the door, he finds it ajar, and peeks in through the door frame, his heart pounding.

Why is his heart pounding?

He swallows, his eyes resting on Lando relaxing, scrolling his phone. He hasn't seen Oscar yet.

Lando. There's a lot I like about him.

Let's just try this. Just for now, forget about Y/n. Think about Lando. Think about all the reasons why you care about him. Think about it as if it were just you and him.

Would you want it to work?

He knows the answer, but wouldn't dare let himself consciously think it.

Oscar gently knocks on the door, as to avoid startling Lando, before saying softly, "Hey, Lando?"

The British man immediately looks up, his hazel eyes meeting Oscar's plain old brown ones. Though he doesn't smile, his eyes soften. And brighten. "Hey, Oscar." He sits up a bit, as to make more room on the sofa. "Wanna come in?"

Oscar nods, stepping inside. Gently closes the door behind himself. Somehow, Lando seems to understand.

He sits down. Closer to him. Turns and looks him right in the eyes. Opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it when he realizes he has nothing to say.

Lando talks instead. "How are you?"

"Fine... and you?"

"Good... I think the race should be promising."

Oscar nods in agreement. The silence feels so simply empty.

"You missing Y/n? Is that what it is?" Lando gently asks.

Oscar considers that for a few seconds, before slowly shaking his head 'no.' "Of course, I wouldn't mind her being here. But that's not it."

"What's 'it,' then?" Lando asks.

Somehow, he just knows, doesn't he?

Oscar's starting to see why you might love that about him so much.

"It's not Y/n I'm missing. I guess I'm missing you. And me. I'm missing us."

"Hm," Lando says simply, seeming to ponder that for a few seconds, before saying softly, almost as a dare, "How could you miss 'us,' if 'us' was never a thing?"

Oscar feels the sudden urge to reach out towards Lando. Put his hand on his, or fix that loose curl, or do something.

But he holds back. Like he's always done with you.

God damn it. Am I really doing it again?

What am I even doing?

"I guess..." Oscar murmurs after some hesitation, staring down towards the tiled floor, "I miss the 'us' that could be and should be but never has been."

Oscar feels Lando look up towards him, but continues staring at the floor.

"Look at me."

But Oscar doesn't dare.

That's when Lando gently moves his hand to grab Oscar's chin and force his head to look at him. Not in an overly gentle way, but not in a way that hurts.

Oscar sighs. Those eyes.

When did he start liking them so much?

"We can make that reality," Lando murmurs, in the same determined way he talks about sports, or strategies. "We can make it happen. You don't have to miss me, or Y/n, and we can make 'us' come true."

Oscar gulps. Nods, though he knows not why.

Maybe it's because I really do want it.

I do, don't I?

Us.

Lando reaches over and grabs Oscar's hand strongly. Wraps his hand around the other man's. "This simple feeling..." Lando whispers. "Don't you like it?"

Oscar swallows. "I don't know if I like it, but..."

Lando waits for him to finish, even after he's trailed off.

"...but I think I know that it's exactly what... what I need."

Lando sighs. A little smile even begins to sneak up on his lips, just gently. Softly. Hardly there.

That's when he leans in and pulls him into a hug. And embrace. And it's refuge that Oscar finds there, in his arms. The same kind of irreplaceable refuge he finds in your arms. He sighs, wrapping his arms back around Lando, feeling the warmth of his body around him like a blanket.

"This simple feeling," Oscar murmurs this time, mirroring Lando's words, swallowing, his voice cracking softly, though tears don't threaten to fall.

It's just a little raw.

"This simple feeling... it's exactly what I want. What I need. From both of you.

"It's like I'd be content if we let this last forever," Oscar finishes softly with, close to Lando's ear.

"We can make it last forever," Lando utters back.

And all time stops in that little room as the two men embrace. A cavern of honesty and truth.

A safe place that promises to hold them forever.

It's funny how someone's cares and concerns can be washed away so quickly.

Like, for example, Oscar's podium at the Austrian Grand Prix in 2024, seeing his team grin up at him, spraying the champagne with George and Carlos, the joy of getting second place.

Partially, also, the joy of being the one to score points for the team.

But once that's all done and he's talking and doing all that PR, it starts nagging at him. You're not here, which means Lando's all alone.

Probably fucking pissed off.

P20.

So it's a mix. He got 2nd! But Lando got 20th.

So he tries to get through all the PR gobbly-gook as fast as possible, while still putting on a good face, since he knows you'll particularly care a lot if he screws up all his interviews the one race you weren't able to make it.

As soon as he's set free from his duties, though, he rushes to Lando's driver's room. On the way, someone even grabs his arm, saying, "Oscar! Oscar! An autograph? Please?" but he brushes them off, saying, "If you stay around, I'll be back to give it to you!" before just running off again.

He honestly can't grasp why he's so particularly and intensely desperate to see Lando.

It's because he did something for me last night when I needed him. Now I can't just leave him when he needs me most.

Soon, he reaches the latched closed door and knocks hard, saying, "Lando? Are you in there?"

There's a few moments of silence, and for a moment Oscar's nerves tell him that Lando isn't even here, and that he ignored that fan for no reason at all, until those thoughts are interrupted with Lando responding with a heavy sigh in his voice, "Osc? You can come in."

Oscar sighs with a certain amount of relief before gently opening the door and letting it shut behind him.

Lando is standing, not facing Oscar, on his phone, texting. Head down.

"How're you-"

"Texting Y/n."

Oscar nods, slowly walking up behind him. He gently rests a hand on Lando's shoulder, and says softer, "What's she saying?"

"Everything she has to in order to try and make me feel less like shit."

"Is it working?"

Lando turns, looking over his shoulder back at Oscar with a wry smile, saying, "Not at all. Max is a fucking-"

"Cheater, aggressive driver, idiot, bad sportsman. I know that's everything you're going to say. You just need to blow off some steam, hm?"

Lando snorts, shutting off his phone, hanging his head. "I've had an hour and a half to do that since the race."

"It takes a while," Oscar says simply, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

Lando sighs, nodding. "I know... I guess I'm not even really that mad anymore. Just disappointed. And frustrated."

Oscar nods, glancing away, beginning to slip his hand off Lando's shoulder.

But Lando reaches back, slipping his hand over Oscar's to keep it there, dragging his other hand over his face with a heavy sigh

It's then that Oscar suddenly feels compelled to do something he never thought he would.

Yet he gives in, simply because it feels like exactly the right thing to do in the moment. So he wraps both arms around Lando from behind, pulling him towards himself, letting his nose and lips press against his neck, next to Lando's ear.

Lando sighs in something like contentment.

And Oscar feels himself smiling softly, before it quickly fades off, and he whispers gently in Lando's neck, "You're a good driver. You would've won that race. But I also know that means you'll be able to win the next one, hm?"

Lando nods, sighing. "You're right. I know you're right."

Oscar nods, murmuring, "But you have every right to be upset. And I'll be with you during that working through it as long as you want me to be."

Lando feels an unexpected smile begin to creep up on his face as he mutters, "I want you here with me every single moment you want to be here, Oscar."

"Yeah? It's funny how I've started to like to be with you more."

"I guess that's just my natural charm, hm?" Lando says softly, his smile growing.

Oscar can almost not believe how he naturally chuckles at that and responds softly, "I don't know about that..."

Lando is full on grinning now. That handsome, big, sunny smile of his. "Just ask Y/n about it. She'll tell you all about my charm."

"Hah," Oscar says sarcastically, but for some reason, instead of coldness, like that comment might used to have filled his chest with, he feels an undeniable, affectionate warmth fill his body.

A feeling that he seems to like a lot more.

He just re-wraps his arms around Lando and responds softly, "I'm sure Y/n would tell you all about my charm, too, Lando."

Lando smirks, glancing back at Oscar, meeting the Australian's milk chocolate eyes. "But you don't have to ask Y/n to hear about how charming you are, Oscar. I could talk about that all night." Lando's honestly not sure where all this bravery on his part is coming from, but he's honestly glad for it. Since it seems to be going down well.

Oscar's eyebrows raise as his light complexion becomes slightly flushed. "Hm. You could?"

"Oh yeah," Lando laughs a bit. A beautiful sound. Then the two remain in that peaceful silence, before Oscar lets his hands slip away from Lando gently.

Lando turns, taking the younger man's hand in his, looking earnestly into his eyes. "Hey. Congratulations on your P2, by the way. I was so caught up in my own shit, I completely forgot about your-"

"Don't worry," Oscar says, waving it off. "I don't mind. But thank you, anyway."

Lando grins, leaning in to kiss his cheek and saying simply, "No, thank you, Oscar. Look at the way you've managed to cheer me up like that, huh?"

Oscar smiles at that, his eyes fluttering shut for just a moment, perhaps in something like peace, or trust, for him to murmur, "Not sure how that happened..."

"Guess it's just that charm of yours we previously discussed, huh?"

And Oscar's eyes flutter open just in time to see Lando peck his lips.

And with Oscar's face fire hydrant red and Lando laughs filling the small room, I'll leave it up to the reader to go and imagine what could've happened next.

Oscar and Lando get out of the car, Lando holding some flowers and Oscar a grocery bag of goodies.

"You ready?" Lando says with a little smile, nodding to Oscar.

"Can't wait to see her, despite the poor state she must be in," Oscar says with a nod, and is about to start walking, when he suddenly stops and, with only a moment of hesitation beforehand, holds his hand out to Lando to take.

Lando looks at the hand, before looking up at Oscar again, taking his hand, with a little grin. He gives him a nod, before the two head off towards the house, hand-in-hand.

You're awakened in your feverish state by the ringing of the doorbell. You know you should get up and at least look to see who it is, but at the same time, who could it be? You're not expecting anyone. So you opt for the easier decision to just assume it's something unimportant like the mailman or something and leave it, letting yourself drift back into your feverish half-sleep.

But just as you're about to fully drift back off into slumber, it rings again. You sigh and stand up with an ornery groan, dragging your shaky legs to the window, to peek out of it, to see what on earth is so important.

But you stop as soon as you see them.

Your boys.

Lando holding flowers.

And what's more, they're holding each other's hands.

And they both look completely comfortable with it.

Really? Even Oscar?

He's not that good of an actor!

Soft smiles adorn both their handsome, perfect faces, shining like a charming prince and a shining knight.

Your foggy brain doesn't take the time to consider which is the prince and which is the knight, and you instead rush to the door right away, unlocking it and exclaiming, "Lan! Osc!" You stumble a bit dizzily as your weakened legs threaten to give out, but Lando's arm is there to steady you right away, keeping you from falling.

"Hey, Y/n," Oscar says gently, putting his arm on yours as Lando plants a quick kiss on your forehead, asking, "You okay?"

You sigh, nodding, and saying after the wave of vertigo subsides, "Just still a bit sick."

"No kidding. My God. Let's get you back inside and in your bed," Lando says gently, letting you use his arm to steady yourself as the three of you head inside and to your bedroom.

Once you're there and crawling back into bed, Lando hands Oscar the flowers and says, reaching in the shopping bag, "Got you some chicken noodle soup, Y/n. Want me to make you some?"

"Oh, God," you murmur, sinking back down against the pillow, "Yes, Lando, that'd be great."

He nods and leaves, going off to do that, leaving you with Oscar.

The first thing Oscar does is say, taking the blanket from the bottom of the bed, "Want this on?"

You nod, sniffing up your stuffed up nose. He gently tucks you in, kisses your forehead right where Lando kissed it, and grabs a tissue for you, seemingly out of thin air.

If you weren't a bit feverish, maybe you would of just known he got it out of the shopping bag. But you kind of missed that detail.

"We got you flowers," Oscar says gently, sitting on the edge of the bed, next to you.

You smile softly, leaning up to smell the bouquet, saying weakly, "Aw... that's so lovely... You guys didn't have to."

He smiles softly. "We wanted to treat you. To show you how much we missed you this weekend." He brushes a strand of hair from your forehead, before frowning and murmuring, "You're really warm. Hey, I'll be right back, m'kay?"

You're not sure how long it takes, but in a bit, Oscar comes back to place a cool cloth on your forehead, and puts the flowers, now in a vase, next to you, on your nightstand.

"They're so pretty," you murmur softly, gratefulness to you warm in your voice.

Oscar smiles. "Pretty flowers for a pretty girl."

You smile softly, reaching to take his hand. "I like you like this."

"Like what?" his eyebrows raise.

"All soft. I like that."

He smiles. "Just taking care of you." He leans down and kisses your cheek, saying, "Can I get you anything? A drink? Water, tea?"

"Oh... I think I'm good. But thank you," you weakly smile.

He nods. "Are you comfortable? Do you want a fan, or another blanket, or anything?"

You shrug. "I dunno... Maybe a fan would be nice. There's a big one in the closet. Jus' put it on low."

He nods and immediately heads to do that. Once he's done, he goes straight to the windows, saying, "And the blinds? Are they good the way they are, or should I-"

"Oscar, Oscar," you say softly, giving a lazy wave of your hand. "None of that matter. Not really. I don't really care. Why don't you just stop worrying and running around and taking care of me and doing everything for just a moment and just come and be with me, huh? That's what I want for you to do the most. Just come be with me. Let's just talk, hm?"

Oscar blinks. "Oh. Of course." He nods, making his way across the room. As he settles down on the bed next to you, he says simply, "Sorry."

"Don't worry. I like it. You just need to give yourself a break, too. And I want to talk with you, Osc." You slip your hand in his.

He nods, and after a few seconds murmurs, "Maybe that's just what I want, too."

"See?" you smile softly up at him.

You sit together in silence for a bit, him gently rubbing your hand in his, before you finally think to ask, "So... How... How are things with you and Lando?"

"You noticed a change, didn't you, huh?"

"For the better. Unless I'm imagining. Or you suddenly became an amazing actor in one week."

He smiles, nodding. "Lando, he... I think we worked it out. I worked it out."

"Worked what out?"

"That I love you, and I might just love Lando, and that in order to love one, I've got to love the other."

You stare. "You... You and Lando?"

Oscar nods. "We talked. I think I can make this work now. Let this work. We can let this work."

You smile. "Hm. Really?" you look at him with fluttery eyes.

He shrugs, smiling softly. "I can't just care about myself. That's not what a relationship is about. Nor can I just care about you. Nor can I just care about Lando. It needs to be selfless, you know? We need to be there for each other."

You grin and murmur, "For some reason, Osc, I really wanna kiss you right now, but I'm sick. It's like you've just said what I've been dreaming for you to say for weeks now. Probably months."

He smiles, nodding. "I guess it was bound to happen. I just had some things to work through. And even though I don't even know how, and don't think he does, either, Lando helped me work through them, partially, too... Oh, and by the way, with the kiss thing?" he smiles, leaning down a bit closer, before murmuring, "I'm sure you won't get me sick. You're probably way past being contagious." And with that, he closes his eyes and leans in to kiss you gently.

It's then that Lando walks in and says with that cheeky smile of his, "Hey, lovebirds, can I get in on this? When's it my turn?"

You pull away from Oscar and tease, "Oh, get back in the kitchen!"

"Jeez! I guess I'll just eat your soup, then, if you're going to be like that!"

"Wait! No!" you say, reaching your arms out for the tray in his arms.

He chuckles, placing it in your lap, and says, slipping on the bed next to you, on the opposite as Oscar, "Did you really think I would eat your food?"

"You might..."

He grins. "I might."

"Hey!" you giggle, rolling your eyes.

Lando lays down next to you as Oscar says, "My goodness, Y/n, you're so peppy as soon as Lando enters the room. You were acting so sick before, just a few minutes ago!"

You grin, looking him over with a shrug, "I guess I liked the way you were treating me so softly and delicately. I didn't want you to stop feeling like you had to take care of me. Now, come on. You lay down next to me, too, won't you?"

Oscar smiles and does so, murmuring, "I guess I can't say no, huh?"

You smile, contented, shutting your eyes as you feel the warmth from both of them, on each of your sides, envelop you. "I guess not."

As you eat your soup, your boys snuggle up to you, their arms wrapping around you, and the three of you talk. Mostly about Austria, and then about he upcoming British Grand Prix in less than a week now, which you're sure you'll be healed up enough for, especially since getting there doesn't require any planes or airports. Sometimes, that can be the worst part of travelling to Grand Prixs far away.

Soon, though, you finish your soup, and sink back down into the pillows, letting the tiredness seize your body once more. As you begin to drift off, the last thing you whisper is, "I love you guys..."

On each side, you feel each of their lips gently kiss your cheeks, but you don't stay awake long enough to hear how they respond to that.

Here you are, with your two McLaren boys.

Sure, there'll be rough spots. Lots of them. Something like this doesn't promise to be easy.

But sometimes, the harder path is the better one in the end.

And right now, in this simple moment, it feels perfectly worth it.

Well, maybe perfectly imperfect.

But would you really want it any other way?

This simple feeling...

[overmystars]

The Until Dawn cast and Mario Kart Wii... I pondered very long and very hard about this question... and return bearing real and true answers (headcanons and rambles ⬇️)

Beth: Insane MKWii goddess. Grew up on the game and played constantly. Put lots of time into learning a handful of ultra shortcuts and sometimes pisses everybody off by using these just for fun. The group can count on one hand the amount of times she hasn't gotten 1st. Can efficiently use any controller, but prefers the Wii classic controller. Put crazy time trials on every single track that remain unbeaten to this day. Not that Josh would ever beat them even if he could. She'll always be remembered through the ghosts she left. Josh has thought about booting the game up just to drive around with her again but... hasn't

Hannah: Prefers coin runners to racing. Peach main as soon as Beth became a Daisy main (matchies) chose the prettiest vehicle and is sticking with it <3 didn't play nearly as much as her siblings but did spend many hours watching both Beth and Josh grind glitches/time trials and stars. Wii wheel user!

Josh: Really good at this game. He can get fiercely competitive too, depending on who else is playing. Otherwise he's chill. Played almost as much as Beth did- and spent hours and hours trying to get stars on every cup to unlock Dry Bowser. He refused any help from Beth and celebrated for a week when he finally did it. Prefers how Jr feels to play and breaks him out when he's feeling particularly competitive but otherwise sticks to Dry Bowser because he's not letting that effort go to waste. Changes controller based on who he's racing, to "make it easier for you". Prefers the GameCube controller

Sam: Rarely ever places below 4th. She also grew up on this game through the Washingtons and has lots of fond memories spending sleepovers with it and the siblings. She's very humble, and doesn't usually say anything when getting 1st. She grins though (Josh loves that grin). Always down for battle mode! Plays with the Wii remote + nunchuck

Chris: Winning the custody battle over Rosalina with Emily. Usually when Em is also playing he doesn't get first dibs. So he goes Waluigi and mimics him every time he has a voice line. Funny at first but now it drives everyone (except Josh who joins in) insane. More and more often Em lets him have Rosalina just to spare herself from the constant Waluigi impressions. He's either really good or really bad depending on the tracks and typical MKWii luck. Goes for super fast vehicles with like no other good stats and either flies through courses and has super easy victories or has the worst time and comes dead last. Uses the GameCube controller

Ashley: Bad luck magnet. Hit by every shell. Trips on every banana. Once she used a bullet while over a gap and it just carried her into the abyss instead of saving her. She hasn't let this go and it happened 2 years ago. Vibes with Toadette and chooses her in any game she's an option. Also prefers coin runners and is usually content to just watch the others play. Another Wii wheel user!

Emily: Losing the custody battle over Rosalina with Chris. Goes with Birdo as an alternative. Is arguably even better when playing her. She was immediately amazing the first time she played. Gets really really competitive and Beth and Josh love the challenge and the intensity that comes with Emily's gloating and high confidence. Doesn't play the game outside of when at the Washington's but knows a good few shortcuts and tricks because she spent hours looking into it when she got home to ensure victory in the future. Plays with the Wii classic controller

Matt: Likes balloon battle and always pushes for team racing. Pretty average player. His character/kart combo is so light that he often gets bumped onto the off-road and pits, but he refuses to change. That's just a little guy right there in his little car! Something Matt appreciates. Really really insane on Rainbow Road for some reason. While being a Wii wheel user! Beth and Josh don't get how that's possible and hype him up every time

Mike: (Unknowingly at first) uses the best character/kart combo. Still gets 6th or lower 74% of the time. Always really cocky for some reason. Uses the plain Wii remote without the wheel (where is your whimsy, Michael?)

Jess: She got 1st once and brings this up any time anyone makes fun of her for hitting every possible obstacle. Still usually does better than Mike and is super vocal while playing, commenting on everything that happens. Wii remote + nunchuck

[nislost]

unvirgin | chapter 6

warnings: suggestive, people being mean again

(written + smau)

you’re driving back to your apartment after you finished your class. you have 2 hours to get ready and you need to look good. you quickly jump in the shower to shave and take off all that school stench off of you.

after two hours you check how you look in the mirror and you feel good. wearing the two piece outfit your friends voted on that consisted of a tight miniskirt that matched the cropped jacket you had and platform heels because who are you without your heels?

you rush out the door and make your way to the library after you notice you’re 5 minutes late. at least you’ll be fashionably late! you walk into the library searching for the black haired boy and when you do you smile walking your way over. tapping jeno on his shoulder he turns around startled.

“sorry i’m late” you whisper giving him an apologetic smile. “i-it’s fine don’t worry” he whispers before clearing his voice his eyes looking everywhere but you. you giggle at his nervous state before sitting in the empty seat next to him. you noticed he looked good really good…why? well he’s wearing the number 1 kitty cat defeater. gray sweatpants and a matching hoodie.

“so what did you need help with?” jeno asks softly not to bother others around. “everything” you groan “i swear math is my worst enemy” he chuckles at your words. “okay let’s start from the beginning of the topic we’re currently learning” he says as he takes out a stack of textbooks from his bag causing your jaw to drop.

your reaction makes him giggle which in return causes you to pout. “stop laughing at my pain” you mutter. you prepare mentally and physically for the time you’ll be spending here.

30 minutes in your brain is hurting and you’re completely frustrated. you begin working on a problem jeno gave you until your ears pick up a conversation behind you “omg did you see y/n with jeno?” one voice says “omg yeah i bet she’s trying to get into his pants” the other voice replies with a giggle. you can’t blame them you have a reputation, but it doesn’t give them the right to talk about you like that. “she’s such a fucking slut. poor jeno” the first voice says.

jeno notices your mood change and the conversation behind him. “i heard she fucked the principal and that’s why she’s here” they just kept going. they were wrong the reason you even got into this university was because you (kinda) tried in high school. don’t get you wrong you never studied or anything you just did the bare minimum and that got you a 3.4 gpa.

your friends wondered what happened since then and it’s just because you lost motivation and wanted to have more fun, but look where that landed you. you get up from your seat causing jeno to look at you confused and worried. you give him a smile “i’ll be right back” you state before you walking over to where those girls were.

seeing you in front of them made them shocked “what? you can talk shit about me behind my back why not in my face” you raise your brow waiting for them to respond. they just look at each other before one of them finally speaks up. “w-well it’s not like we’re wrong! look at yourself you dress like a prostitute” she spits out. the other girl taps her friend and points somewhere behind you. you turn around confused and see jeno.

“what’s going on here?” he asks. both the girls in front of you begin to stutter “n-nothing” “nothing at all! we’re just talking about how much we love y/n’s outfit” you roll your eyes at their words. jeno just hums in response before grabbing your arm and taking you back to your table. “anyways let’s continue our tutoring. don’t let anyone distract you.” he says giving you back your pencil.

you sigh before continuing solving the equations given.

2 hours pass and you’ve grown tired. “do you think we can stop for today?” you ask letting out a yawn. jeno chuckles before nodding. “oh i forgot to ask earlier but what would you want in return for you helping me? money, food or something else? i’m okay with doing anything” you turn to him. jeno ponders seeing if there is anything you could possibly help or do for him.

“can- no never mind that’s too embarrassing to ask for” he says blushing and looking away. this interests you a lot and makes you wonder. “just ask i already said id do anything” you say softly somewhat implying something. “i-i can’t” he stutters his nervousness makes you grin. you place a hand on his thigh to “comfort” him and it causes him to flinch. “jeno you can tell me” you pout tilting your head. he looks at the hand on his thigh then up at you.

“i have no experience…in you know” he mutters because you could hardly hear him you lean in closer “repeat what you said louder” he looks at you all flustered which makes something purr and it’s definitely not your pet cat at home. “can you h-help me um” he groans “take your time baby” you giggle. his ears perk up at the nickname you didn’t even realize you said.

“can you um unvirgin me?” he says softly looking at you with a vulnerable expression. you can’t help but giggle “unvirgin? seriously?” he looks at you embarrassed. “jeno are you sure? wouldn’t you want to save something like that for someone special?” you giggle again “i have no experience and everyone around our age has at least done it once and all my friends tease me” he looks at you with a pleading gaze.

“fine. i’ll unvirgin you, but only if i pass a math test. just so that’ll give you time to think this through” you stand up. jeno quickly nods before standing up as well and walking you to your car. “u-uh ill text you about our next session” he stutters slightly which makes him want to punch himself. you nod before driving off.

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[josgalaxy]

MY PERSONAL RANKING OF BALDUR'S GATE 3 COMPANIONS FROM WORST TO BEST (spoiler alert!!!)

Of course this is just my humble and personal opinion, let me know if you agree! Trigger warning, I have a lot to say:

11. The Emperor

I know he's not technically a companion, but let's be honest, he is with Tav since day one. Let's just say this one is a shady bitch. From the get go I didn't trust the Emperor, and going forward with the game my suspicions were confirmed. Not only he literally exploited everyone that could help him reach his goals, but he shows no true loyalty to anyone but to himself.

Proof that the Emperor is just a gaslighting bastard: 1. Lied to the whole party by changing his appearence to seem more trustworthy 2. Killed his dragon bestie Ansur that was just trying to find a cure for him. 3. Kept a Gith prince imprisoned to exploit his power and was willing to eat his brains out to get more powerful. 4. Tried to sleep with Tav and secure their trust (btw, a kinky bitch). 5. LITERALLY SIDED WITH THE BIG BAD NETHERBRAIN as soon as Tav was not okay being manipulated anymore (like babygirl, you spent the entire game telling me we had to kill that thing and now you're ending up siding with it? Excuse me??)

So, yes, The Emperor deserves to rot and I was very happy to fry that calamari.

10. Minsc (and Boo)

So, I haven't played bg2, so I don't have that kind of attachment to the old characters. I don't mind that he is juts this brainless hunk, and I like the fact that he carries a cute hamster with him. He kinda reminds me of Kronk, and I love Kronk so he gets a few points for that. But other than some muscles, dumb jokes, and Boo, what else is there?

Let's just say that he made me smile a couple of times, but I got bored of him (but not the hamster) almost instantly.

9. Jaheira

Same here folks, I appreciate Jaheira but I don't feel that attached to her as the rest of the companions (probably because of the fact that she and Minsc are introduced in the game quite late). I mean, you get this badass milf Elf (mother is mothering) that can turn into a panther and has a cute accent... how can you not like her? But do I find her as interesting as other chatacters in the game? Not really.

I would probably share a drink with the tho, to hear all the stories from back in her day.

8. Wyll

Before any of you come for me for putting The Blade of the Frontier this low, let me explain. I like Wyll, I like the fact that he is a dancer, he's romantic, and that his main goal is to help people. I mean, he made a pact with a literal devil to save his city! Don't get me wrong, I think I would be friends with him irl, but as for character growth and depth, I think he passes off to be more bland than the rest of the companions, probably for his too goody two shoes attitude.

Let's just say if he was a spice, he would be flour. Sorry.

7. Minthara

You see, a long time ago my first playthrough, when I met Minty, I seriously contemplated killing all the Tieflings just to be with her. This is just to let you have an idea of the hold this woman has on me. HAVE YOU SEEN HER? Apart from being a hottie, and incredibly useful in combat as a paladin, she is hilarious without even trying. When you see an [ ! ] over her head you know for a fact she is about to tell something UNHINGED. I'm gagging.

Anyway, just so you know I haven't sacrified the tieflings to recruit her. I'm not a monster. I simply knocked mommy out and found her in Moonrise Towers.

6. Lae'zel

I believe Giths and Drows are quite similar: they both crave violence and see any kind of kindness and compassion as weaknesses. But what makes Lae'zel a better character than Minthara, is the fact that she evolves from her prejudices and violence, while the drow doesn't. She starts off as this ruthless and closeminded character, but later on she learns to challenge authority and her tyrant, save her people, find compassion in others and fall in love.

I think her romance is one of the best ones in the game. It starts off as a simple one night stand where she tries to dominate you, pure physical, but then she starts to soften and open up to Tav. I mean the rooftop scene where she calls you Source of my Joy?? Sounds more like Bae'zel to me.

5. Gale of Waterdeep

To be honest, Gale is literally my type irl: a hot scruffy nerd whose ideal Saturday night is reading a book and drinking some wine in front of the fireplace. Also, he has a cat! He is a bit of yapper, I know, but I find him quite charming, even though he eats magical boots from time to time in order not to explode and kill everyone in the vicinity

I believe Gale had the potential to be a heart-throb, but the only thing that gave me the ick about him, was the fact that he is too obsessed with his ex! I get it, she is the goddess of magic, but that doesn't change the fact the she literally groomed him since he was a child. He was willing to go full Manhattan Project just to get her approval. You are cute magic man, but you need to get over your ex.

4. Halsin

May the Oakfather protect me. He is such a dreamboat. He is kind and forgiving with everyone, loves animal and nature - duh, is great with kids, and let's not forget he is absolutely gigantic (points for him). He even carves out a wooden duck for you at the end, so cute! I love the fact that he knows his boundaries and is particularly attentive to respect everyone, like when he flirts with Tav but will wait for them to speak with their partner in order to have an open relationship.

I know he may not have the same depth some other characters have, but who cares?? Teddy Bear over here is fine as he is. What can I say, I'm a sucker for big men that try to be gentle.

3. Shadowheart

Shar's favourite Princess is one of my favourite characters in the game. She starts off as being wary and skeptical about Tav, but she quickly opens up as soon as one shows her kindness. Which is heartbreaking since she led her life following the Lady of Loss, hence without any kindness or compassion. Her backstory is particulary well made, so that you can truly see her growth: from standoffish, she ends up being such a goofy and sweet character. From putting all her faith in a goddess that has literally taken everything from her, she then learns how to discover herself and prioritise her feelings for the first time. I love that for her.

She is quite frustraing sometimes since she keeps missing in combat, but we love our emo babygirl anyway.

2. Astarion

So, the only reason I didn't put Astarion in first place, is because I know for a fact that in real life I would LOATHE the man. But we're not irl, so his gaslighting and manipulative tricks are overshadowed by his witty answers, his flirtatious expressions and the incredible velvety voice of his (thanks Neil Newbon). And to think that I thought I had successfully avoided the Vampire phase... well, I hadn't met this diva right here.

His backstory is one of the most heartbreaking, and with the right choices, I believe he can grow more than any other companion, which is why he is such a fan favourite among the fans. He starts off as being a vain and manipulative twink, but as you get to know of his past and the horrible things he has been through, you realise he is simply a victim that doesn't know any better.

I just love his confession scene to Tav: "I had a nice, simple plan - seduce you and manipulate your feelings. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do was not fall for you... which is where my nice simple plan fell apart." EXCUSE ME?? WHAT ARE WE TALKING ABOUT??

1. Karlach

She's an icon, she's a legend, and she is the moment.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Karlach officially is the most likable companion of this messy rank. From the first moment you meet her, it's so difficult not to fall in love with this fireball of energy and kindness. Her backstory is probably the saddest of them all: a hopeful kid that gets betrayed and forced to live with a deadly engine that will one day burn her from the inside, like a tragic metaphor for an illness.

She is also smocking hot (and not just because she is literally burning), I mean, the tats, the muscles, the badass hair and half horn?? Child, she ate and left no crumbs. She is a total smokeshow, and despite her bubbly personality she is not afraid to be a bit sexy and flirtatious. Can we talk about the: "I wanna ride you 'till you see stars" YES MA'AM, PLEASE MA'AM.

But in spite of everything bad that has happened to her, Karlach is always smiley, loves her friends deeply and uses every moment to be a goofball and dance around. She is too pure for this world, which is why you feel that her horrible fate is particularly unfair to someone like Karlach. To be honest, her scene in the harbour after defeating the brain is heartbreaking.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

So folks, here it is my personal ranking from least to most likable companions of Baldur's Gate 3.

Let me know what do you think!

[eiralunaire]

Silence settled between them, but it was a comfortable silence, the kind they shared when words were unnecessary. Damian raised a hand to touch one of the braids Reader had made, noticing the care with which she had woven them. It was such a simple gesture, and yet filled with an intimacy that unnerved him.

“What was the worst part of that mission?” he asked suddenly, breaking the calm.

Reader lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him with a soft smile, though her eyes shone with something deeper, a mix of tiredness and sincerity.

“Seeing a little girl trapped in the rubble,” she said quietly. “She was alone, crying… It reminded me of me when I was little.”

Damian looked at her silently, his green eyes taking in every detail of her expression. He knew Reader avoided talking about her past unless it was strictly necessary. He had learned not to push her, but every time she let it slip, he felt a knot in his chest that he couldn't undo.

"Were you able to get her out?" he asked softly, even though he already knew the answer. If he hadn't managed to do so, Reader wouldn't be there, calmly, telling him about it.

She nodded, her smile returning, albeit with a melancholic tone.

"Yes. She was terrified, but when I told her everything was going to be okay, she stopped crying. I took her to the nearest shelter." He paused, playing with the hem of his shirt before continuing. "But I couldn't stay long. There was more to do."

Damian reached out a hand and placed it over hers, squeezing it lightly. He wasn't one for displays of affection, but with Reader, he felt he could make exceptions.

"You did more than most would have done," he said, with a seriousness that brooked no doubt. "You saved her life. That's what matters."

Reader looked at him, and for a moment, he didn't say anything. Then, she squeezed his hand in response and leaned into him, resting her forehead against his.

“Thank you, Damian. Seriously.”

He closed his eyes, enjoying the moment. But as always, he couldn't help but be himself.

“That doesn't mean you should neglect yourself in the future. If you fall off a roof again, I promise I'll lecture you until you regret telling me.”

Reader laughed, her light, melodious voice filling the space. She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her dimples making an appearance.

“And I promise to keep surviving so you can lecture me all the times you want.”

Damian rolled his eyes, but couldn't help a slight smile. Though he would never admit it, the chaos Reader brought to his life was exactly what he needed. And as long as she was safe, he could put up with anything, even braids.

Part One

[little-worm-grant]

Night Terrors

Moonboys x You (Reader) 574 words / 18+ only, no minors

Masterlist.

If you like what you see, leave a like or reblog and follow me ♥

Summary: Marc isn't the only one to suffer the occasional bad night, they all do. Here are some ramblings of how each of the alters handles night terrors with you around. This will contain descriptions but nothing graphic.

A/N: A lil cathartic trauma writing after a bad night. I have CPTSD that's not too different to Marc's experience with his mom growing up. No matter how many years of therapy I've done to find my baseline normal, I still get night terrors every month. This is a damn sure better than what it used to be, but still annoying. It's one of those things I will never have control over and just have to deal with it. Thought I'd use my experiences to write how I imagine it'd go for the moonboys. Regardless of the things I write, I'm genuinely in a good place in my life. Healing is not linear. The worst experience to ever happen to me was my childhood and I've gone forward in life with my head up knowing nothing will ever be that bad again. Look after yourself first, no one can do it as good as you can.

Steven wakes up sometimes in a panicked wheeze, flapping his arms as though to get a spider off his pillow (it's just the shadow indent of where his head was that his brain hasn't quite registered), or just straight up flying out of bed in a scramble to get away from the perceived threat. You've learned he needs a lot of physical contact to come around and be eased back into bed. He never remembers these nights or what he's dreaming about. Laughs and calls himself a "right plonker" when you explain it the next day. He'll comfortably make jokes about his evening escapades. He panics when he's conscious, it doesn't surprise him one bit he also does it in his sleep too. No wonder he's always so tired. Steven deeply appreciates knowing you're there for him when he needs it. He'll pamper you and try making your day a little easier to make up for it. Scratch each other's backs and all that. -

Marc shouldn't be touched when he gets like this. Always a small chance it'll freak him out more. He's never hurt you, more like he doesn't recognize you and tries to keep you at an arm's distance to keep himself safe. You've never seen him so tense. Sat upright, shaken breath. Eyes wildly scanning the dark of the room, convinced he's seen something in the shapes he can make out. As though it's both your lives on the line if he's distracted from it. He doesn't look angry, it's not like that stern expression he usually carries... but more like he's seen a ghost. He's terrified of whatever may come out of the dark. It breaks your heart. You talk him through his logical fallacies until he's convinced enough to settle back down. Sometimes it requires a light being turned on for him to snap out of it. Come the next day, he'll brush off your follow-up questions of it. Embarrassed you saw that side of him. Marc won't often remember getting up in the night, but he certainly remembers what he dreamt about. He won't willingly discuss that in any detail. He thinks you'll look at him differently if he does. The day naps wrapped around you make everything better. -

Jake you've only seen out once in this state. The broom you'd moved out the way before bed came tumbling down in a loud clatter, and he was up in a blink of an eye. No staggered breathing or wild eyes like Marc. None of Steven's exaggerated or fast movements. Stiff as a statue he's up and staring off into the empty void of the room. It was more unnerving than the other two. You try talking to him but he doesn't acknowledge you. A tentative touch snaps his eyes to yours. After a moment, he seems to soften and come back to himself. Some mumbled strung-together Spanish you aren't convinced was meant to be coherent. He chuckles and drops back down into the sheets. Reaching out to pull you in closer. Soundly snoring a moment later. You're left perplexed and blinking. Questioning who the hell that was. Jake tends to have a very vague recollection of coming to and trying to tiredly explain his reasoning. He doesn't remember if he was dreaming. "But there's no danger, so there's no problem. Go back to sleep," he'd tell you, thinking you understood him perfectly. He can sleep better for it.

[thedeskofaltoclef]

Hello to the desk. I write in all good things I promise I'm just nervous. But you make me smile every time you come up on any of my timelines. And me and my sibling share your posts with each other when we find something silly. But all that is to say...

I think you're pretty neat, and lots of other people do too. And if they decide to be mean... I say we make them go kaboomies. (Not actually, this is a joke). Anyways have a good day/night/whatever time it is- you do great things and keep making people smile. :]

I am very glad to hear you say that. Warms the old thumping meat sack in my chest. I think you humans call it a he-art or something lol.

You never, ever have to be nervous with me. Ever. I am just a dude who likes to act a fool. Nothing more and nothing less. If it makes you feel better I promise that I've made much a bigger ass of myself when I first met Author so I promise NOTHING you all can do would pale in comparison to that. But yeah, I'm just a old, fuzzy guy who likes to hang. Never be afraid to speak to me. I am always around and willing to listen if need be.

And we do not need to make those people go kaboomies. That is not what they need. If it were to get out who they are I would personally go after anyone who went to them because I left their names out for a reason. Our job in this community is not to damn others but to uplift others. If these people want redemption they deserve a second chance.

I'll use Clef as an example. Most people follow the 4231 line. Francis/Clef was given a second chance at life. In that story he was a part of one of the worst things imaginable and now is reveared as one of, if not the most popular SCP doctor. (We don't talk about the bad one on the Desk's blog)

If we can look at this character and watch him grow through his tales then we can learn from that and go "You know what, yeah, these people may suck. These people may have done terrible, terrible things... but I do not want to be like them."

I would rather people continue to trash my name than have any of you lower yourselves.

I'll bare the bullets, you all live and be good for me :-D

[disastrouscanasta]

@evidenceof happy christmas yna!!!! i was your secret santa this year, and it was an absolute BLAST! you were the best giftee, very thorough in your answers to my asks, and if i didn't need to maintain anonymity for so long, i would have picked your brain on soooo many of your wonderful thoughts. YOU UNDERSTAND ALL THE PAIRINGS SO WELL, and literally every prompt and idea you gave me was SO amazing, and incredible to explore. thank you for being so lovely <3 for you, i have a fic that i've worked on over the past few weeks, inspired by your prompts!

A Busy Blur | runner/leckie | 2k | post-war, developing relationship, a touch of epistolary & long-distance love

**

“You’ll write to me, won’t you Cobber?” Runner said, a playful lilt in his voice. Leckie could have sworn he caught a flash of something more vulnerable, more honest, from around the bags under his eyes, under the furrow of Runner’s brow. 

“If you learn how to read, sure.” Leckie said.

And Runner laughed, mouth splitting open in a bright smile that drew Leckie’s attention away from the bruises and the sling his friend’s arm was suspended in.

**

The first letter was simple.

Leckie,

I bet you’re home safe, now. And if you’re not, well, that’s your fault for being the only idiot sonofabitch to get hurt on the train ride from the harbour, instead of being killed by artillery. Somehow, that sounds about right.

Hope the mailing address is right,

Conley.

Leckie smiled wide when he read it, forgetting that he was sitting across from his stone-faced father at the table, half-eaten eggs forgotten in front of him when he had Runner’s letter in his hands.

“Did you get a cheque?” His father asked, speaking up for the first time since he’d come into the dining room and filled the seat at the far side of the table, away from his son.

“No,” Leckie answered simply. If his mother was there, she might have pried, probably asked about a girl, she’d have put just an inch more effort than his dad ever had.

His father made a short grunting sound before turning back to his paper.

(He read the Philadelphia Inquirer. Leckie himself worked for the Philadelphia Record. Figures.)

**

Leckie kept a notebook on him at all times, but he used it most at sports games, taking notes on the plays and activity of the baseball season. The notepad was filled with shorthand accounts of who was doing best, who was doing the worst, teams and rosters and everything he could come up with.

Some days (most,) he wasn’t granted the privilege of good seats, or even tickets to whatever sport was being played. But he had to write the damn article, anyway. So he sat by the radio, listening to the play-by-play accounts as they happened, with their paper’s roster open on the table in front of him.

His notebook looked something like this:

23/04/‘46

NY Giants vs. P. P.

JUDD, Oscar - pitching.

^ 3 SO

NORTHEY, Ron - batting

^ Home run, flyball to deep RF

SEMINICK, Andy - batting

^ Single, F. MCCORMICK SCORES

Playtime : 2hrs 14mins

PS: tell Runner about the weather

**

He’d been surprised at how easy it was to slip back into camaraderie with Runner.

But then again it had been easy on the boat, too, when—

Well, that was in the past. And even if there had been a few road bumps, they had never stopped being friends.

The war being over, reassuringly, didn’t stop that.

**

Runner,

He wrote at the start of his response, and paused. 

Runner’s letter sat next to him on his desk, under the warm light of the lamp. It had been dark for hours, and Leckie just couldn’t bring himself to put anything on the page until nearly midnight.

That letter had started with Leckie, and wasn’t that awfully formal? They’d gotten to know each other more intimately than most people would ever manage and— Leckie. It was impersonal. He’d expected something more ridiculous, Peaches, Cobber, something like that.

Leckie was sticking with Runner, for his own purposes.

(It had taken everything in him not to write Dear Vera. Less out of intent, and more out of habit. He’d never sent her any of his letters, and by the time he got him, she was already married. She looked happy, at least.)

Runner,

Got home in one piece. Based on your letter, and the fact that that chicken-scratch is unmistakably yours, I’ll guess that you’re alright stateside.

Since we haven’t got a war to talk about, I’m telling you a bit about work (a bit of complaining, so that you know it’s really me.)

The Philly Phillips won, 5-2. The paper made me sit by the radio box and take notes like some kind of spook, you’d think I work for the Russians, if you saw me hunched over my notebook like that. Last week, they got me a ticket to the actual game. We lost, with three points down. I think I’m cursed, if my presence makes the team lose.

Whatever. It’s still better than scraping out a latrine, with you sorry folks for company.

Leckie.

He posted it in the morning, and tucked Runner's letter away in his drawer.

**

Hoosier promised to write, so did Chuckler, and that Phillips kid, but ultimately, every time he got handed a personal letter by the postman, it was always, always, from Runner.

It felt ridiculous. He’d gone a whole war with those fellas, and they didn’t say so much as hello? But hey, what was he supposed to do?

(Their mailing addresses were tucked away in the same drawer that he kept any letters he got from Runner. They had his, he had theirs, and maybe his was part of some ongoing game of Chicken that he was playing with Hoosier. Either way, Runner didn’t care.)

Cobber,

The newest letter said, because Runner had quit with the Leckie pretence and cut to the chase with the stupid nicknames. Leckie couldn’t help but feel relief. Too many people had called him by his surname in the Marines. And back home, too many people called him Bob. Runner managed to find that surprising middle ground, by letting Leckie be someone else completely, just for a moment.

I’ve got a reason to write this, for once. Today, is Memorial Day. Which, as far as I’m concerned, is the government telling me to take the day off and get wasted, flashing that little veteran’s tag to get a discount at my local drink house.

Now, you’ll get this on, what? Beginning of June? Take some time for yourself, have a drink. (I’m not paying, though. That’s up to you, and your fancy paper job.)

Runner

If there was one thing that Leckie could be assured about, it’s that Runner’s letters would make him smile. He started reading them in his bedroom, instead of cracking the letter open in the dining room, where his parents had to see.

Everyone seemed to expect him to have left the war overseas. And it might have been over, but he couldn’t help but yearn for something that he’d had then. Not war, but something that had been so closely linked with the brutality of it all, that he didn’t think he’d be able to articulate it to anyone.

Maybe, he pondered, Runner understood him. Runner had understood him better than a lot of people had. On the boat ride home from that Australian hospital—

Runner just got it.

**

Runner,

He started, a couple weeks later.

You should get this by July 4th, and I wish you a good Independence Day. Go to a barbecue, wear your dress blues, go to a banquet. 

I hope it’s better for you than it will be for me. My parents are leaving me all alone to spend time with my brother and his wife, a couple towns over. I’m expecting to spend the night tucked up in my bedroom, shouting bah, humbug! everytime I hear fireworks. I hope the reference doesn’t go over your head— I can explain it in my next letter.

Leckie

**

The Fourth of July was more miserable than he’d expected. The commotion stirred up more in Leckie’s chest than he wanted to admit. The fireworks were too loud, and July was too hot. He laid on his childhood bed in nothing but his boxers, staring up at the ceiling, working through his third glass of beer.

At some point, he got up, pulled a paper from his desk and started writing.

Runner,

These damn holidays might be more exciting if you got closer.

There’s a good bar near my work, they do swing dancing on Thursday nights: I’m sure it’s your venue. You’re the best dancer I know!

I hope you can hear the sarcasm.

I won’t pick Hoosier over you, this time.

Leckie.

In the morning, after a cup of coffee and an aspirin for his headache, he read it through (as well as a typed page-and-a-half of hazy memories from Mbanika, which he crumpled into a ball and tossed under his bed.) and tucked it carefully into the drawer with Runner’s letters.

He didn’t really want to think too hard about all that.

**

Peaches,

I got the reference, thanks. I like to think you have those big mutton chops that I remember from those old pictures. You’re called Peaches, but you’re not all that sweet, are you?

That’s not a real question. I know the answer.

Hope your Independence Day was as boring as mine. I forgot how loud those things were.

Runner

**

Leckie couldn’t stop writing them. Stupid, ridiculous messages that really meant nothing.

He put them in his drawer, tucked away just in case he ever needed it. Leckie didn’t think it was vain, but some of them were well written. He didn’t feel that too often, so he kept them.

**

I saw a guy with your haircut, made me look twice just to be sure. I should have known it wasn’t you; he was taller.

That one was scribbled in his work notebook, while he was at the game (Phillips vs. Chicago Cubs), and the audience clapped and jeered around him.

You’re a marine, but how well can you swim? I’ve never asked.

Leckie wrote that question on a napkin in a diner. His pen ripped through it at the end.

**

I miss the boys. I miss you.

He didn’t write that one, but he heard it reverberating in his head when he flicked the lamp off. It was burned into the backs of his eyelids, anyway.

I miss you.

He was surprised that he meant it.

**

Professor,

That was how Runner opened his next message. It made Leckie smile. (Of course it did. They all did.)

Why DO we celebrate Labour Day? I saw them putting streamers and banners and what-not up in the streets today. New York City is a funny beast— you should come by, watch the parade.

Hope you get a day off work, and some time to yourself. (I’m still not paying for your drinks)

Runner

Leckie stared at that message for longer than he had any right to. By the time he sent his reply, Labour Day had passed, and he could only wonder what Runner had meant by any of it.

**

Runner,

I’ve got to come up with something more exciting for you. It’s difficult when I can’t see all the ridiculous shit you’re getting yourself into. And you don’t have the inclination to write it to me, I bet.

I’d call you a coward, but you’d call me one right back. Have you ever realised that we bicker like school children?

Leckie

**

To the man who mocks me,

Yeah, well, it’s hard to come up with nicknames for you too. That one just now was shit.

You want to know what I’ve been up to? Really? Well, I’ve got a job at the steelworks, which is great and all. Except I ran into a piece of machinery the other day, busted my lip wide open. There was a hell of a lot of blood. I think the 16-year-old kid who works next to me fainted. How’s that?

We’re both cowards, so what? We served our damn country.

Buster (I sure buster’ed my lip open. Get it?)

**

Bruiser,

All I have to say is that: you’re an idiot!

Yours,

The brilliant professor who’s kept himself out of danger

**

Leckie thought about Runner too much, he realised.

Some part of him was always waiting for the next letter, waiting to write, to come up with something short and stupid to say to the man, just so that he could imagine Runner’s familiar laugh.

Shit. Leckie thought, as he folded up another half-drafted, but unsendable letter.

**

Professor,

Tell me a story, if you’re so wise.

Your bruised-lipped-friend,

Runner

**

Runner,

If you really want to know, I’ve been more of an idiot to you.

My mother asked me this morning if I was getting married soon. I told her no.

She said that she thought I had been in contact with “that lovely girl from across the street,” and the woman she meant was the dearest Vera that everyone was so tired of hearing about. I had to break my mother’s heart and tell her that Vera moved away months ago, and that she was already married— to an army man, no less.

The old woman was more distraught about it than I was. Turns out she thought that Vera and you were one in the same. I’m surprised she never sent you an engagement present.

Leckie.

**

Leckie,

Hell, why didn’t you say so? I would have acted soppier.

In that case, you should come to New York this November and visit your sweetheart, how’s that?

Runner

**

Leckie blinked at that, then he stared for a long time, hoping to make sense of it all.

**

Runner,

November’s no good, I’m all booked up. How’s early December?

Leckie

**

To a difficult guest,

I guess I can fit you into my busy schedule.

I’ll see you in three weeks, then?

Runner.

**

Leckie booked a train ticket before he could convince himself otherwise.

Then, he stuffed a handful of his little messages into an envelope, scribbled Runner’s address, and mailed it all without a second thought.

Five days letter, he got an envelope back, inside, with no signature, was something simple, etched in Runner’s charming chicken-scratch:

We should have done all this in February. I would have wished you a happy Valentine’s.

[whatdidtheydotomygirljinx]

Why Episode 7 is the worst episode in all of Season 2.

This fuckass Timebomb ship is the worst thing to ever happen to Jinx's character.

Ok so finally we're gonna talk about Boy Savior Complex and AU Girl Next Door Powder

This is gonna be long. Also, we're not only talking about Episode 7 and Timebomb, we're also discussing Jinx's suicide attempt and how her character's resolution is actually really sad.

First of all, Jinx never liked Ekko back. Season 1 makes it pretty clear that they're friends, and that Ekko has an unrequited crush on her. His feelings are clear, but she never shows any reciprocation. And, no, the art book that came out after season 2 concluded doesn't count. You can't just put "the boy with the unrequited crush" trope in your story and then retract it.

And now to get to the serious part... who the fuck is AU Powder?

Ekko gets transported into this alternate timeline where we the audience soon realize everyone is happy and none of the conflicts that plague the original story exist and everything is perfect and "as it should be". So this is the ideal world and the one where all these characters reach their highest form of happiness. Even Silco is back with Vander.

And in this ideal world Powder is... a waitress at The Last Drop? I rewatched this episode and I genuinely tried to pay attention to see what does she actually DO. Like what occupies her time in this universe. And between Vander's line about how she's "too smart to be spending her life in a bar" and the fact that she is at one point behind the counter (while Ekko is studying his books... imma get back to that) and the fact that we never see her in any other places besides the bar and her hideout and that one time Ekko takes her out... this seems to be it.

So in the perfect timeline, Powder has decided to stay back with her family once she's grown up, to remain with Vander and help him run his bar, and implicitly has no big ambitions of her own, and definitely no ideas that she would sacrifice her family life for.

Now... Powder/Jinx as a family person is not actually wrong characterization. This is pretty congruent with her character in season 1. Her entire story and literally everything revolves around her family and not much else. When she's Powder she's attached at the hip to Vi and when she's Jinx she doesn't seem too interested in the world outside of her hideout and Silco's office. So considering all we know, yes, Jinx does place family first.

And this is pretty assumed by the show. Now, I also characterized her like this in season 1! She is a family girl. And Jinx happens to have all these people with big revolutionary ideas around her, be it Vander or Vi or Silco or Sevika, but she herself never actually seems much interested in that. She has a small moment in arc 1 of season 1, which i think it's significant to mention comes right after Vi plants the idea in her head. It would've been one thing if these ideas stayed with her, but post time-skip she doesn't bring anything like that up again. She mostly acts like a bored teenager whenever Silco drags her to the river to tell her all about his tragic past that radicalized him. Overall, any time she exhibits any revolutionary spirit, it seems to actually be more of a personal vendetta for her.

So, okay, Jinx is a family girl and she's never really actually been about all these big ideas, I can agree with the writers that this represents her character.

It's just that... this much?

Man, COME ON. There were people making "Everything's Perfect" AUs since season 1, and they almost all had Powder be a student at the Academy. This girl was clearly passionate about her little inventions, her bombs didn't work but she kept and kept trying. You're telling me she would be completely uninterested in learning more about engineering, in getting a formal education in that, in doing anything with it? Since in this world, there's peace between Piltover and Zaun, we can't talk about any barriers to her becoming a student. And, for that matter, in League lore there's an academy in Zaun, too, that she could have attended.

Even Ekko points it out, man. Now, to the writers' credit, the story acknowledges quite clearly that Powder choosing to stay with Vander and help him run the bar is weird. It just... never explains it. Like why is she like this, though? Let's throw out some possibilies:

(1) in some scenes, there seems to be a little "jinxiness" in this Powder, too. maybe she's aware of that side of her, and doesn't like it, and fears that if she went off and did what she wanted, and was truly herself, it would ruin what she has, "things are good now" (in this case, this Powder is actually a tragic character. nowhere near ideal timeline stuff.)

(2) in act 1 of season 1, the reason Vi makes Powder stay back is because she fears losing her, after Vander tells her that she might lose Powder in a confrontation with Piltover. since Vi dies in this universe, on a job, maybe in that moment Powder internalizes that rocking the boat in any way is bad. Vi was spirited and had big ideas and wanted to be someone and it led to her death. so maybe this Powder gave up on all of that then. Vander seems like the type to give her a "look what happens" speech, too.

But these are just my theories. This doesn't ever get properly explained in the show. So then maybe Powder is actually content like this and likes this and maybe these people constantly pestering her that she could do and be more are just annoying nuisances to her, same as Sevika is an annoying nuisance to Jinx in the original timeline (although there it makes significantly more sense).

(Also, why is Vi even dead in this universe? They could've easily found another way for Piltover and Zaun to make peace. Guess Jinx doesn't even get to be happy in the Perfect Timeline, goddamn, girl really is cursed after all.)

If you're gonna spend an entire episode on fix-it fanfiction that is supposed to pander to fans and give them, on screen, what they always wanted to see, why didn't we get grown up Powder in a cute academy uniform, being a top student and working on school projects and being loved by her professors cause girl was a prodigy.

Instead... this is Ekko in this universe, actually.

Ekko is the "big idea guy" and he's working on an entry to the innovations fair and he gets to be Heimerdinger's pupil. To her credit, this Powder still seems to be very smart, Ekko comes to her for help cause he can't actually build his invention alone. But she only uses her intellect to help Ekko. I always thought it would be Powder who would be Heimerdinger's pupil. Instead, here, she's hanging off Ekko's arm, and being all cute, as he discusses Important Stuff with Heimerdinger, stuff that she doesn't get to be privy to, but that she is expected to help them with anyway.

So AU Powder is this very smart girl who is helping her boyfriend build his entry for a contest because he can't actually do it himself but it's okay she'll help him of course and no he can take all the credit she doesn't want to be recognized or anything or to go to like University that would be crazy she's doing it cause she loves him and she's sweet like that and she likes to help others and she doesn't have any character traits that make her difficult she's just a cute funny and relatable down-to-earth girl and she pokes fun at Ekko but like in a loving way and she likes being a waitress and she'd rather be recognized for her dancing skills and................ I'm sorry.....................

So you're telling me Ekko gets transported into an alternate timeline in which his childhood crush who never liked him back is stripped of all her personality, has no goals or ambitions of her own and has no interests besides being his supportive girlfriend, is devoid of all the traits that might have made a relationship with her difficult, and despite the fact that she never showed interest in him in the original world, here she is head over heels for him, always acting all lovey-dovey with him and being nothing but a cute and affectionate puppy.

This is every little boy's with an unrequited crush dream right here. Man, Ekko won more than any other character in this show. And she's mentally ill, too! He's hit the jackpot. Y'all what the fuck am I watching.

I'm sorry but literally ALL I COULD FUCKING SEE WHEN I WAS WATCHING THIS STUPID DANCE SCENE was that in this universe Powder is a good christian girl who stays home with her dad and loves her boyfriend and is always happy to help WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS GOOD GIRL PROPAGANDA get this bullshit OFF my fucking screen I cannot fucking believe what I'm watching here

Moving on.

Ekko has hurt Jinx more than any other character in the show.

Physically speaking.

Ekko is the one who does this.

Which leads to this.

Which ultimately leads to this.

It has always confused me and it continues to confuse me why no one in this fandom treats Jinx being injected with shimmer as a big deal, when this is the worst thing that happens to her post episode 3. And it's a point of no return for her character, she can't undo this. And yeah I know everyone thought Shimmer Jinx was cool in season 2, but her being turned into a half-dead monster is not a good progression for her character. She also goes through agonizing pain in the process.

Singed agrees.

It's Ekko who forces Jinx between death and being turned into a half-dead corpse. It's actually insane to me that no one in the fandom considers this and that this is never brought up in the show. If they wanted Jinx and Ekko to be a thing, you'd think this would be a big deal in their relationship. Ekko has changed her irreparably, for the worse.

Idk, is the guy who beat you up and left you for dead really boyfriend material?

This is the first moment Jinx shows any interest in Ekko. Interesting timing.

I'm pretty sure she doesn't even mention his name post act 3 of season 1. She doesn't wonder about whether he's alright after the bridge fight (for that matter, neither does he). The first time when Jinx looks at him with any hint of affection is when she's standing on a ledge, ready to throw herself off.

Jinx has no one anymore at this point. Her old family is long gone. Silco is dead. Isha is dead. Vi has decided having a good time with Caitlyn is more important than her. This is Jinx at her lowest moment. Does she like him back or is he just the only one who showed up?

Ekko is a winner once again. His crush has been abandoned by everyone, and he is the only one left to comfort her. Luck like this is hard to come by. And of course, she's gonna be super impressed and touched by any sliver of affection now. Probably gonna look at him with big, grateful eyes, and see him as her savior. I'm disgusted.

By the way, this should have never been Ekko. If Vi was too busy with fucking Caitlyn, this should have been Sevika. Sevika is the only character who has known Jinx since she was a child, and who has been with her through every iteration. And she's the only character who has never cared whether she's Jinx or Powder or any other persona she decides to take up, to her she'll always just be an annoying kid. And to Jinx this might actually be comforting. Sevika is the only one who has a realistic perspective on Jinx, and recognizes her flaws, so her talking her down might have actually been very touching, and there are things she could tell her that neither Vi nor Silco could.

(The fuck could Ekko tell her, honestly? That he went off to an alternate universe where she was his perfect girlfriend, so she shouldn't kill herself actually? What the fuck.)

I also wanna talk a bit about Jinx's resolution as a character. Not her fake-out death, but her in the last episode. I think it's interesting that everyone who had a connection to Jinx is gone, namely Silco and Isha. Silco and Isha are both people she chooses, actively, and she is herself around. Instead, now, she's back to Vi and Ekko, the same people that were with her in her childhood. This is a full circle moment for her.

This is Powder right here, guys. Powder was a little girl who made a mistake and then she went off on this journey where she met new people and she was someone else and it was fun for a while but ultimately she realized what she was doing was bad and she came back to her family and is ready to be that little, sweet girl again. The problem with the Powder-Jinx dichotomy is that Jinx, as much as she represents all this bad stuff that the show has made clear, also represents Freedom and Power, two things that Powder definitively lacked. Her coming full circle, coming back to Powder, is not actually a good resolution for her. She's right back where she started, with Vi and Ekko. Her venturing off on her own and making her own decisions was ultimately a mistake that only lead to her suffering. We can take this all the way back to when she decides to venture off on her own with that bomb, despite Vi's disagreement, and the consequences plague her for the rest of the story.

I know everyone thought it looked super cool when she lifted off that hood, but I could only think it was tragic.

[evans23]

RICKMAS 2024 - DAY 24 - CHRISTMAS PARTY

Pairing : Judge Turpin x OC Colonel Brandon x OC Sinclair Bryant x OC

Summary : It's the eve of Christmas for three generations of a same lineage.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Someone hates Christmas.

A/N : Thank you to @deepperplexity for hosting Rickmas but also for her kindness and for her talent ! It's always a pleasure to read you ! And I had so much fun challenging me for this Rickmas and it gave me the motivation to coming back to my own personal writing and for that even more thank you !!!

And Merry Christmas to you all dear reader, I wish you all the best.

Also read on AO3 - Wattpad

Richard hated Christmas. It was no surprise to you who had learned it in your first year of marriage. It was not really a problem for you not to celebrate Christmas, in your family, you did not have the means to do such a foolish thing.

Indeed, before your marriage to the High Judge of London, Lord Richard Turpin, you were nothing more than a burden on your poor family. Not that your parents had ever made you feel like one, but you were growing old without finding shoes that fit you, which had ended up alarming them. What is a woman if she is not married ?

And who would marry you if you were nothing more than an old maid who had lost her freshness ?

Judge Turpin, obviously.

You had been afraid at first, but you also knew that refusing would be foolish. You were past the age of being able to wait for your soulmate and when your father died, you would have ended up at best in a hospice, at worst on the streets of London. So you had accepted Richard's proposal reluctantly, worried about the trap you had closed on yourself of your own accord.

The wedding had taken place quickly and you had resigned yourself to being locked in a golden cage and to giving him the heirs he needed, because you were not naive, you knew that was the only reason why he had rushed the marriage with a complete stranger.

Except that night, he didn't touch you. Nor the following ones. After your wedding, when he had brought you back to the manor and shown you the room where you would sleep, he had gone out, leaving room for a maid who had helped you change. She had told you that Richard would come back later because it was his room and you had shivered with fear, except that when he returned, he had chastely kissed you on the forehead before ordering you to go to bed.

You had obeyed, expecting him to exercise his right as a husband, but he had said in a cold voice :

"You will be mine, but not by force. You will be because you want to be," and he had blown out the candle.

You still remember thinking that you would never be his, except that you already were, by law. And later, it was your heart that would decide that he wanted to be entirely hers.

Two years later, you gave birth to your first child, a son, an heir. A difficult pregnancy, a delivery that had almost left you for dead, but you had survived to the greatest relief of Richard who could never have imagined continuing to live without you. That night, as he forced you to eat a few mouthfuls of broth to regain your strength, he had confessed to you that he didn't know how he had managed to live until now before you.

When five years later, you were pregnant again, against all expectations given your advanced age for a lady but also because of the scars left by your previous pregnancy, Richard had made sure that nothing could happen to you. You couldn't even get up to go pee without being followed by the old governess who reported all your nonsense to him like a zealous employee... except that you knew that she did it mainly because of the maternal love she had for your husband and that she had become very attached to you, the woman who had managed to make the merciless judge of London human.

Richard and you complemented each other perfectly; he was the authority and you were the gentleness. He punished, you comforted and waited for him to leave for work to lift the punishments.

If only Christmas didn't exist. 

Except that after the birth of your first child, you had insisted on an intimate Christmas at the manor. Just the two of you and your son and later your daughter. And Richard, giddy with the love he felt for you, had agreed. But he still hated this holiday as much and never let himself get caught up in it, even if he tried to hide it more or less skilfully for the sake of his children.

"Woman, I swear that if you add one more garland, you will sleep in another room," he growled when he saw you decorating the banister.

"Well that's not what the manor lacks," you replied without looking up.

He rolled his eyes, mumbling something that sounded like "Ah ! women," when your little girl came running to throw herself into his arms.

He bit his tongue to keep from reprimanding her for running like a wild girl through the corridors of the manor. She was only six, much more impetuous than her brother, unimpressed by her illustrious father and showing him a love as overflowing as yours that always melted him, even if he was careful not to show it.

"Father, I want you to teach us a Christmas carol," she demanded enthusiastically.

Richard's gaze darkened. You gave him a warning look. If you were used to walking on eggshells when it came to Christmas, it was harder for children who didn't understand their father's aversion to this holiday.

You, of course, knew. His painful childhood, those holidays locked in his room while his parents feasted with their prestigious guests, the laughter that echoed while he opened the only gift he never received at that time, the one from his governess.

"I don't know any Christmas carols," he said, trying to control his tone.

"But you're old, you should know plenty," your daughter answered with the candour of a child her age.

"My dear, you should ask your brother. He would love to teach you the ones he knows," you intervened so as not to make Richard more uncomfortable than he already was.

Fortunately, your daughter was not a child who was too difficult to convince, and she went in search of her big brother who would have to sacrifice his game with his toy soldiers.

"That's why I didn't want us to celebrate Christmas in my mansion," he grumbled.

You went down the few steps that separated you from him to come and snuggle against his chest.

"Richard, we can't deprive children of Christmas," you said softly.

"And why not ?"

"Because we love them ?" you suggested with a smile.

"I can love them without Christmas. I would love them just as much without this damn Christmas, because they are yours, silly !"

"Well, since you love me so much, make an effort because it makes me happy to offer a little magic to children. I never had the right to it when I was little. I know you don't either, but if you would agree, just for once, to leave the past behind you and focus on what you have now, you could maybe enjoy this holiday."

He rolled his eyes but said nothing, just kissing the top of your head, undoing a strand of hair from your bun with his finger to let it fall down your shoulder.

"You're lucky I love you," he said with a sigh.

"No, you're the lucky one," you replied before going back to decorating the banister.

He would never admit it, but he knew he was the luckiest man to have met you.

"Richard," you called out to him.

He looked up at you, one eyebrow raised in question.

"You know, you've been led to believe that Christmas is just a frivolity, but the truth is, it's a family holiday. And we're here, all together. That's all that matters."

He pondered your words as you made your way upstairs. Shouts could be heard from the playroom and you assumed that the pretend war with the toy soldiers had become a real war between the siblings.

"Tell them that if I have to intervene, Christmas is called off," Richard said behind you.

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. Christmas was in two days and you weren't going to let your grumpy husband cancel it, and even the children knew that.

"Father, father !" his two children shouted in unison as they entered his office.

It was Christmas Eve, the only day when the children were allowed to stay up until midnight, but it was only nine in the morning and Richard could tell it was going to be a long day. He should have canceled Christmas yesterday, when they had given him the chance by bickering like paupers from the slums of London.

"Stop yelling like seagulls," he said angrily, "and what's the use of me hiring the most expensive and famous tutors if they can't teach you how to knock on a door ?" he added, looking at them sternly.

"Excuse me, father," they said in unison.

"Why all the fuss ?" he asked, inviting them to come and sit on his lap.

They didn't need to be asked twice to join him.

"Look what mother gave us ?" your son said, showing him an old account book.

"Can you read it to us tonight, father ?" your daughter asked, giving him her doe-eyed look.

He was about to answer that he didn't read that kind of book, but he stopped himself just in time. Your words the night before had kept him busy for a long part of the night, and he was determined to make an effort. For them. For you.

"Very well, but only if you finish your plates without protesting tonight and if I don't hear you arguing. You are brother and sister, behave as such, not like animals in a circus. Understood ?"

They nodded, kissing him each in turn on the cheek before returning to their games. Meanwhile, Richard, alone in his office, watched London stretch out before him with a smile on his lips.

That evening, he participated awkwardly, but sincerely in the party. He even surprised himself by enjoying himself, especially when the children presented you with a Christmas play that they had rehearsed since a story you had told them at the beginning of the month.

When it was almost midnight, Richard had an arm around the children who had fallen asleep against him on the sofa listening to him read the Christmas story, and another around you who was dozing, his head resting on his chest.

"You were right," he whispered so as not to wake them.

"I know," you answered, raising your head to look at him, "about what ?" you asked anyway.

He let out a rare laugh before kissing you tenderly.

"That if I focused on the present, I could enjoy this holiday.

You kissed him back, radiant.

"You see, it's not too late to create new memories for yourself. Happy memories."

"You're the one who makes me happy. And them," he said, looking down at your children.

You rested your head against his chest, your hand caressing your daughter and son's heads affectionately. It had taken Richard Turpin a while, but he had come to understand how much the family he had built with you was essential to him and that it was what made Christmas magical.

Christopher Brandon loved Christmas. Even more so since you were married and you had made him the father of five beautiful children. Three sons and two daughters who had inherited your sweet face and noble character, except for your eldest who looked exactly like his father, but who had your natural curiosity.

For Christopher, Christmas was the warmest holiday of the year. You and the children were by his side, and if he didn't organize any special parties at the Delaford and he didn't accept any invitations to spend this time with you, his domain was always filled with joy and laughter.

On this December 24th, the house was beautifully decorated thanks to you. The big tree in the living room added a little more warmth to your family celebration and the children were having fun by the fire. Your eldest son was playing the piano while your youngest daughter accompanied him by singing a Christmas carol that Christopher had taught him earlier in the day.

Your second son was looking out the window praying that it would start snowing, he who dreamed of a white Christmas to have snowball fights with his brothers and sisters and snowmen with his father.

Christopher was looking at them with affection, but he had this little smile, imperceptible to anyone else, but not to you. He was preparing something, you were sure of it. However, no matter how much you had pestered him all day to know what it was, he had refused to answer you.

"Dad, can we open the presents ?" your youngest son asked him. "Oh, yes," your daughters chimed in.

"In an hour, after dessert," you replied with a soft smile.

"And here I thought you were eager to see what I was preparing," Christopher teased you.

You gently punched him on the shoulder, but with a nimble gesture, he grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips.

"Don't set a bad example for the children," he told you with a smile.

You rolled your eyes, returning his big smile.

Finally, at the children's insistence, you agreed to let them open their presents at the same time as dessert was served. Their smiles, their laughter filled you and Christopher with joy. He then got up and left the large living room under your surprised gaze to come back with a small package in his hands.

At least you thought it was a package, but when he approached, you saw fur. Fur fluttering.

"Dad ! You brought us a dog !" your youngest daughter exclaimed.

Your five children rushed over to him and your eldest took the little ball of fur in his arms to pet it to the youngest while warning them to be gentle. You couldn't help but notice how much he looked like his father.

"So that's what you were hiding," you said with a smile as you sat back down on the couch, the children at your feet playing with their new friend.

"They've been asking for years for a dog that wouldn't be used for guarding or hunting, but just to keep them company. John's dog had puppies and he kept this one for me," he said with a soft smile as he watched the young puppy shyly move into his new surroundings.

"What's his name ?" your eldest daughter asked as she turned to you, her auburn curls dancing around her head.

"It's up to you," Christopher replied.

That was all it took for the kids to get into a heated discussion over the dog's name.

"And to think we almost had a quiet evening," you said, feigning exasperation.

"Oh, but this was all part of my plan, Mrs. Brandon."

"What plan ?" you asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"We've got an hour, while they argue, make up, and decide on a name. Enough time for me to give you your present."

He stood up, holding out his hand to you with a mischievous glint in his eye, and you knew that didn't meanonly one thing: the library books would witness your antics again.

"Your ancestors are so funny," you said, closing the diary of Colonel Brandon's wife.

Sinclair turned to you with a smile, Richard Turpin's diary in his hands.

"This one belonged to my great-great-great grandfather, the High Judge of London."

"Do you think it's as interesting as your great-great-great grandmother's ?"

"Oh yes," he said with a big smile, "it's more... juicy."

"Juicy ?"

"She was rather reserved about everything to do with sex, but he goes into detail and believe me, she wasn't shy in bed at all !"

"Sinclair ! You're talking about your ancestors," you gently scolded him.

"But it's true !" he defended himself.

What had started as a search for a Christmas book in Sinclair's vast library had turned into a dive into memories from another time. You had found Colonel Brandon's journal by chance, the one that chronicled a time before his wife, in the army and Sinclair had then decided to share with you the intimate lives of all his ancestors, although he could not go back further than Christopher Brandon.

"What a treasure to have preserved all his memories," you said as he pulled another notebook from a chest.

"Lionel had Brandon's," he said, mentioning his rich and eccentric cousin, "but he didn't find them very interesting so he gave them to me. I never told him what Richard's contained, he would have been dying to have my hands on them and read the craziest positions he made his wife take," he said nonchalantly.

"Sinclair !" 

"Oh, don't be such a prude. You're shy in public too, but when we're in bed..."

"Sinclair Bryant ! I swear if you write that in a diary I'll kill you !"

He laughed as he pulled you against him.

"It would be for prosperity," he whispered in your ear.

"Our child could find it."

He pulled away, his eyes wide as you clapped your hand over your mouth.

"Our child ?" he repeated, looking at you intensely.

You lowered your head, guilty. You'd known for three days, but you wanted to wait until Christmas struck twelve to tell him. But you weren't far from four after all.

"You're going to be a father, Sinclair," you said, placing your hands on his chest.

"I... Me ?"

"Yes, you big idiot," you replied, tapping him gently on the shoulder, "who else do you want it to be ?"

"How long have you known ?"

"Three days, I wanted to surprise you, as a Christmas present."

He shook his head, closing his eyes. After his divorce, he thought he could never be happy again. Then, he had met you one evening when your train was stopped in the middle of the tracks because a tree had fallen due to the storm that was raging that day. He was coming back from Manchester where he had to go for his job, you were coming back after yet another job interview for a job as a teacher. A new refusal that had depressed you more than usual. He had seen your big wet eyes, but also the strength with which you fought not to let any tears fall. You started talking, he made you laugh, he appreciated your simplicity and he thought that maybe that was what he needed: someone simple who knew how to appreciate the little things in life.

You had parted ways that night without knowing that fate had decided that you could never live without each other again. You had crossed paths several times, Sinclair had helped you get a job thanks to his many contacts, he had invited you to eat with him several times, introduced you to his parents - and to his great relief, his mother had immediately liked you unlike the demonic bitch who had broken his heart -, you had introduced him to your parents, and finally, one summer afternoon, in a gondola in Venice, he had proposed to you.

And today, you were going to make him a father.

"So, you're not so disappointed anymore about missing Lionel's big Christmas party, right ?" you said, smiling. 

The doctor had warned you that the pregnancy could be complicated and that you should stay calm. Your bad cough had arrived just in time to find an excuse not to attend the party without having to confess the real reason to your husband.

"Maybe it'll be twins," Sinclair said, placing his hand on your stomach.

"I'd have enough on my plate with two Bryant," you joked.

Except that once again, Sinclair's skills as a forecaster had not been wrong. Eight months later, his mother and his aunt would no longer be the only twins in the family. Now there would be two beautiful little boys as curious as their father and gentler than their mother. But you didn't know that yet. It was for later, far long after this Christmas Party.

[hestzhyen]

Chapter 62 Chuunibyou Posting

...Hello dear void. Rumours of my death are only slightly exaggerated. I'm back from the hospital and I'm ready to chill with this chapter over the break. Taking it easy on myself and not doing the editor's notes this week. This will be short in general since I'm still in recovery, actually- sorry about that. Gonna rest up and get ready for the next chapter that drops on January 3rd.

Chihiro...?

Something something fresh hatred

I got a kick out of Chihiro from Wish, I really did. Goes to show how ridiculous his edginess in the first few chapters was before Char softened him up for the better. Everyone give Char a pat on the head for doing a good job, okay?

Iori's impression of Chihiro as a murderer is something I'll allow myself a little satisfaction for since I called him having a trashed public image thanks to his interruption of the kabuki play back in chapter 52. He's going to have a harder time completing his mission thanks to this in some way- betting on the Kamunabi using it against him somehow, but the Hishaku easily could too. It's anyone's guess on how exactly this will come to bite him in the ass but it will happen.

Worst of all, though, he's got kids imitating him like he's some MC out of an edgy wish-fulfillment LN. What a way to trivialize what someone's been through (not that Discount Chihiro knows, of course). Chihiro's image is already out of his control in some pretty damaging ways.

But She Was, in Fact, the Chosen One

Thank you for your helpful narration about the general public's reaction to Owl darkening the skies, Iori.

We don't know the kanji for Iori's name yet since it's only been spelled with Katakana so far (イヲリ), but it's clear as day that she's inherited some of Samura's reckless bravery and quick assessment abilities.

I like that she's very much an ordinary girl being thrust into a situation that's way over her head. Her memories of her dad are locked away so she's just an average highschooler being plucked out of the ordinary and tossed into the extraordinary like Discount Chihiro wished he was until Kuguri held a sword to his throat.

The seal is breaking through Iori's own will to know what the hell is going on so I wonder if the Masumi will re-do it. I think not, since Minimura had that bit about Samura underestimating kids near the end, so she'll probably get a few panels to come to terms with her real identity while Chihiro does some cool moves in the classroom to fend off the Hishaku.

I have a feeling that Iori's going to be sticking around for a while. She's getting a lot of screen time and set up for development if she's just meant to be an arc character or damsel in distress. Won't get too attached, obviously, but I kinda like her already based on the little glimpse we've seen. Looking forward to learning more about her personality and seeing what's in store for her beyond this arc.

Silly Murderers

There's no fixing this kind of crazy.

Place your bets: blood-based identification sorcery, or just plan nuts? We'll find out sooner or later.

This is gonna be another inconclusive fight since we need to see Kuguri meet the Bearer that's bonded to the blade he's pining for and learn Tomboy's name.

Small Complaint

Just a note about a small difference I'm petty enough to be annoyed about in the EN version:

The "no"s stop pretty short in English, but in Japanese...

...they run on into Minimura's speech bubble to show her racing thoughts getting cut short.

Alright dear void. Let's enjoy lobotomybachi week and let the brainrot flow during the break. Also, consider getting help before you shut down and enter a tailspin- this is a very difficult time of year for some of us. You're not alone if so. Reach out for help if you need it.

[nighhtwing]

#i could go on FOREVER about this line#much as i hate that the flash editorial sped wally and linda through the marriage and kids development#the placement of this line with wally specifically is so fascinating because he doesn't really know bruce at all#he doesn't know that bruce would wholeheartedly AGREE with him. that he feels deep shame and self loathing over this#wally (as well as every other member of the fab five) is only ever privy to dick's perspective of bruce as someone arrogant and unrepentant#even in tower of babel this is the view of bruce that wally parses his criticism of him through as do the other members of the league#bruce's silence and refusal to fight accusations made against him is taken as a sign of his arrogance#when really he's just sad! he's sad because he's wrong and he knows it and he doesn't know how to fight people who think the worst of him!#he doesn't know how to fight words that are true.. his modus operandi is to give up and to give in. to let people think the worst of him#and that's why everyone gets to kick him around like a dog. they would respect him more if he actually fought back#but he doesn't! so they get to dish out lines like this instead and get away with it#it's sooo fascinating i'm obsessed with it. because they're absolutely right in their criticism. but there's also something tragic#about how they never afford him the sympathy of knowing that he too has known parenthood. that he too has gone through the fears and despai#they've learned to read him as someone emotionless and unfeeling. so they treat him that way too (@roobylavender)

The Flash (1987) #233

FROM YOU? I TAKE THIS FROM YOU? I'M GETTING LECTURED ON CHILD SAFETY FROM A MAN WHO'S GONE THROUGH FOUR ROBINS?

[savebylou]

Recap Simon Cowell on The Ray Foley podcast talking about 1D, his show and Harry calling him.

Simon did another interview, I wanted to share another recap/transcript in case anyone was interested.

TLDR: He said that he and 1D had the best time working together and he really missed it, he made a deal with the company that made Formula 1: Drive to Survive (Box to Box Films) and is going to a streamer plataform. He is doing promo so more people audition because he think is the best way to get in to the music business (even though he said he is not going to offer a record deal and he will own the name), he wants to invite Louis Walsh to the auditions, last but not least according to him Harry call him just to say hello.

Below is the more detail recap with a few quotes.

Simon was on The Ray Foley podcast, it was a zoom interview of almost 13 min [20.06.24].

-According to Simon because there hasn' t been a successful UK band or Irish band since 1D, so he thought about a year ago to do his show to create a new boyband. He thinks is the only way to do it.

-What he is looking for? The best example is One Direction. He thinks is the best boyband of all time.  "There is something about each of them, they were all individually talented, collectively they were just brilliant, it was fun, talented and we had the best, best time working together and I really, really missed it and that is why I decided you know what? I'm gonna risk it and I'm just gonna do it."

-He then talk about his memories of the band. That when One Direction didn't win he was so unhappy and that the next day they come to the label and he said they are gonna sign them. After he says "I think if we could find a group of people like that again, with those kind of records, I really, really think there is a massive opportunity here, I can just feel it".

About his show he comment:

- "I'm working with a company who made drive to survive"[Note: I check the production company was Box to Box Films, the program is Formula 1: Drive to survive, that is a documentary series of F1 that aires on Netflix]. He went to see them and he said he was gonna do this [boyband] "with or without cameras, do you think it would make a good documentary? And they went are you prepared to show everything?" He said yes, so they make a deal. "Is going to be a documentary for one of the big streamers."

- He is doing promo so more people audition because if it works it's worth it, is fun and "it's the best way on getting in to the music business, because right now they just aren't enough new people being sign for whatever reason, and that's depressing." [Important to remember that the band that is going to be created will not have a record deal, they will have to find it on their own and Simon is gonna own the name, see recap of that here].

-He said that the person that records a video and sharing on social media they are competing with so many people, so the odds are not in their favor, record labels are not watching their videos, they have a departament checking with algorithms, he believes that if you wanna find people he needs to met them and they need to met him. His advice for artists is always to start in a band because they will find their lane and they got a better shot. He used to do this 30 years ago, go month after month in auditions.

About Louis Walsh (X Factor judge)

The interviewer mentions that Louis has a boyband and Simon comment he will call him and drag him to be in the auditions and that they will always be friends. [Note that Louis said that he hadn't talk with Simon in years and Sharon Osbourne comment how Simon got rid of their contract they had for the new season of The X Factor for 2018, this when they add it Louis Tomlinson, Robbie Williams and Ayda Field ].

-He talk about what happened with Westlife that Louis created and Simon rejected them, they change members and he sign them.

Harry calling Simon.

"It was very funny because Harry Styles call me the other day just to say hello, and that night I said [to his son] I was talking to Harry Styles the other day. Son: No you didn't. Simon: Yes I did, he call me. Son: Why he will call you? Simon: To say hello, people do that."

Let me know if you want me to record and upload audios of any of this parts. I can share them.