#we're just having a conversation about it

[scarlet-letter-s-for-soft]

As someone who has studied and worked as an astrologer, has found great value & enjoyment in the practice, and also doesn’t take it that seriously, I have a few thoughts:

It’s an art, not a science. It’s the same with testing psychic powers through remote viewing. If you’re trying to prove it is true, you’ve missed the entire point. It’s not ‘can this system objectively be correct about me,’ especially if they handed someone facts on paper and not a living, breathing person to interact with.

I understand wanting to 'prove your skills' in any profession. But the astrologers who set themselves up with *this* kind of test ... were doomed to fail even if they are experienced.

Astrology is about the journey you go on to learn more about yourself and the people who help you do that. It’s about the questions. It's how you, as a person, interact with your chart. It’s never been about some outside, black-and-white answer and anyone proclaiming to know some dogmatic, unchangeable truth about you is … a shitty astrologer???

There are like nineteen different charts you can run, and the older you get, the more you grow and the LESS accurate birth charts are. A birth chart is your factory settings. I sure as heck hope you've changed. And if you're using Astrology as an excuse (sorry, I'm controlling just because I'm a Scorpio, etc.) to not do the work of growing... bro, come on.

It's why people insisting I try and guess their sun sign are so frustrating. Sun sign astrology is unfortunately very popular now, but it's not all that useful. Your sun sign is one of twelve and you have it in common with 1/12th of the world. Your full natal chart isn't likely to be repeated for thousands of years. You can't just look at the surface.

Again - it’s the process. Astrology is a conversation. It’s archetypes and behavior patterns and depth psychology with a flair for the mystical. If you don’t ‘believe’ in it, that’s amazing! It's not a tool that is useful for you on your journey of healing and self-exploration. Other things will be and I hope you find them!

But if you look at something that has been useful to someone else and mock it or judge it… that says far more about you than it does about them. Not believing in something is still a belief in and of itself, and all of our beliefs say something about who we are and how we interact with the world.

All I’m saying is - don’t be a dick. 99% of the witchy/spiritual folk I know aren’t delusional or somehow hurting themselves by *checks notes* believing in something. If you’re so offended by these concepts, I’d suggest you dig into why you feel vindictive joy in reading the above study.

I can guarantee your friends who like astrology or read tarot cards or practice psychic skills don’t give a shit if you think it’s ’real.’ But they absolutely hear the derision in your voice and are going to stop trusting you with important parts of themselves. Life is confusing and weird and we're all just looking for answers and doing our best. Be kind, yeah?

Astrology doesn't seem to work.

[bratbarzal]

you said i could send multiple requests and you wouldn’t block me

could you do roommate (or neighbour) nico with ³⁾ “i’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything i need to know about how your date went.”

✩‧₊˚ bratbarzal's valentines event!˚₊‧✩

“i’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything i need to know about how your date went.” with neighbour!nico!!!!! bc of course neighbour nico joins your boozy galentines, wears pink fluffy cowboy hats and sings horrific karaoke duets with you. why wouldn't he? not to toot my own horn (again) but beep beep this is a dream that I have had since lunch and I am not giving up on it now.

“I’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything I need to know about how your date went.”

You're locking up your apartment when Nico emerges from the elevator down the hall, shoulders slumped and face downcast as he trudges over to his door.

You'd seen him when you got home from work, earlier - dressed in a dinner jacket, hair all styled, shirt tucked neat - and he had told you he had a date. On Valentines Day.

And yeah, your heart had pretty much plummeted to the very core of the earth, but at the very least, you got to see him looking so good - a vision to store in your memory bank for a rainy day, when you're thinking too hard about how close he is, just across the hall, but so far away, only being your neighbour, and all.

And that was only an hour ago. Just enough time to get ready, yourself. Hair curled all nice, makeup done - the sexiest outfit you could possibly throw together, because it's girls night, and you deserve to feel your best.

A good date doesn't last an hour. Doesn't end up with a guy slumping home, hair all mussed from running his hands through it, jacket slung over his arm and his heart crushed into pieces.

"Got stood up," he huffs, reaching into his pocket for his keys, "Said she didn't realise I was a hockey player, and didn't think I had the brain cells to hold a serious, thoughtful conversation for a few hours."

"Ouch," you frown, feeling anger more than pity - because, wow, what a bitch!

"You look nice, though," he throws out the compliment almost as an aside, but you can tell by the way his eyes linger that he means it - fixated on the spot where your skirt ends and meets bare thigh. You're probably gonna freeze, but you're going to get some great pictures for your Hinge profile, so does it really matter? "Didn't realise you had plans."

"Going out with the girls," you tell him, "Galentines, 'cause we're all single this year."

He nods, his gaze trailing back up your body until your eyes meet, torturously slow, only enhanced by the darkened colour of his irises. "Have a good night."

"You should come," you tell him without thinking better of it - hypnotised by the low, sexy tone of his voice. It goes straight through you - almost takes control of you like a puppet on a string.

"I'm not a gal," he frowns, although he makes no move to go into his apartment.

"You're single, though," you shrug, "I don't think they'll be too fussy on the criteria once we get a few drinks in."

"Are you sure your friends won't mind?" he asks, eyebrow wiggling and head tilting in the adorable way it so often does.

You press your lips together as if you're rethinking it, casting your eyes slowly down his figure - broad shoulders, big arms practically bulging through his shirt, slacks clinging to his thick thighs for dear life. Your friends will have the time of their lives with this.

"Considering a night out only won the vote for what to do by fine margins, I think they'll be okay with it." You smile, knowingly, nodding toward the elevator, "C'mon, we don't want to be late."

"I don't get what that means, what came second?"

"Magic Mike." You smirk as you walk backwards, reaching to press the button and laughing when his jaw drops. "You take your shirt off later and we'll be golden."

The poor guy has no idea what he's in for.

--

Your girlfriends don't mind when you and Nico meet them at the bar, not once you've introduced him - his name not ringing a bell until you mention he's from the apartment next door, and you see the flash of recognition wash through them almost like cascading dominoes, knocking each other over one by one.

They don't know him as Nico, he's much more fondly referred to in your group chat as sexy neighbour, after all.

You've only been telling them about him for the past 18 months you've lived across the hall - regaling them with stories of bulging muscles carrying grocery bags for you, compression shirts sticking to him when he comes back from the gym, and the one time the fire alarm went off in summer, and he hadn't thought to put a shirt on when you met out the back of the building.

Yeah, sexy neighbour is pretty much a celebrity in your friend group.

They welcome him with open arms, and the night evolves, as they so often do in your friend group, in highly chaotic fashion.

It starts with a round of shots, because of course it does. The bar is rowdy, the music loud, and those tiny little glasses of you-don't-even-want-to-know-what loosen lips all around. Nico picks up on the dynamic of your group pretty quickly, shifting the shyness he had walked into the establishment with and charming them all with that same dimpled smile he got you hooked on the day you met.

Shots turn into drinking games - chugging cocktails, taking on dares, spilling secrets, and you learn so much about Nico that you would never have known otherwise, so much that you would never have had the guts to ask.

Drinking turns to dancing, which starts in a crowd on the floor, bodies all smushed together, and ends up on tables, Nico by your side the whole time, hooking an arm around your waist so that you don't fall.

You end up bar-hopping to an extent, the second place you go being a little quieter, and you're all way too drunk to stay, so you end up at the karaoke joint further down the street.

Your friends all pick the girls night classics, Man I Feel Like A Woman, Girls Just Wanna Have Fun and there's even a full dance intermission for three of your friends to perform Single Ladies.

You all end up adorning fluffy pink cowgirl hats from god knows where, fluffy feather boas slung from your shoulders, and Nico is suddenly grabbing your hand, dragging you on stage, and handing you a mic before you're fully aware what's going on.

But by then you're too drunk to care, belting What Makes You Beautiful at the top of your lungs with him, still conscious enough to blush when he directs the lyrics towards you - as out of key and awful as they may sound.

And you don't know what happens between that and ending up at the club, bass thumping in your ears, blood pumping, skin sweating, and your back is pressed against his chest. You can still see flashes of feathers in your peripheral, your friends close by, but you can't really focus on anything else.

Anything other than the heat of Mr Sexy Neighbour, himself, flush against you, one of his hands holding yours to keep you steady, the other in the dip of your waist, and his breath warm on your bare neck. You lean into him more than you probably should - more than the sober you of tomorrow will be comfortable with, when you're bumping into him again and unable to look into those pretty eyes - and he leans in right back, nose at the junction where your jaw and ear meets, lips flush against your skin, where you hear him mutter, "I should get you home."

You nod, because what are you supposed to do, speak? With him looking at you like that?

Fat chance of that happening.

And he takes your hand in a firm, clammy grip, doing the rounds between those friends that still remain - the ones he hasn't had a chance to personally see off into a cab - telling them to text him if they need help getting home, and to text you when they eventually make it there.

He guides you practically the whole way home - helps bundle you into the back of a cab, buckling you in for safety and sitting in the middle, where you can lean on him with a heavy head, and your hand in his the whole way.

He throws an arm around you to help you stumble your way through the lobby of your apartment building, holding you up in the elevator and pressing the button for your shared floor. And then he props you up beside your front door, taking your keys from your purse and unlocking the door for you as you watch him with a tired but focused gaze.

God, you want him.

Is the world really so cruel that he would never want you back?

When he finally tries the right key and pushes the door open, he looks over at you, a heated gaze assessing if you're fit enough to send in on your own, and you imagine it's the way you blink slowly at him that tells him you're not.

You were just admiring him, really - your buzz wearing off, and the stumbles added for dramatic effect so that he wouldn't stop touching you - but he doesn't need to know that.

He makes a come here motion with grabby hands, and you practically launch yourself back into his arms, him accepting you with an amused smile as he walks you into your apartment, throwing your purse onto your counter and leaving your keys on the side.

You tug a little to steer him down the hall - in the direction of your bedroom, because if he's gonna play white knight, he may as well go the whole way.

"I had fun tonight," you tell him once he's dropped you off onto the safety of your bed, the bouncing motion only making you slightly dizzy again as you watch him stand before you, hands on his hips. "I don't want to say I'm glad you got stood up, but-,"

"I had fun, too." He tells you, dark eyes landing straight on yours as he slowly lowers, dropping to his knees in front of you and reaching for your leg. He starts unzipping your boots for you, and you watch him with what you can only assume are hearts in your eyes, a slow, dreamy sigh wracking through you.

"Wish I got to see you with your shirt off."

He laughs, in a way that makes his eyes crinkle in the corners and his shoulders shake - genuine amusement flooding through him as he looks back up at you, the angle straight up sinful and sobering.

He holds your other leg behind the knee, large hand warm against your bare skin, and slides your other boot teasingly slow - your gazes locked for the whole manoeuvre - his hand following down your leg until he discards both boots to the side.

He stays down there, kneeling in front of you, staring up at you with the prettiest eyes you've ever seen - a flush to his cheeks and a million thoughts racing through his brain.

You lean forward before you can think, and he meets you half-way in a kiss that's slow - sensual and pressured, firm and assuring - the taste of tequila on his tongue as it swipes against yours, which no doubt tastes the same.

He's the first to pull back, but it isn't all the way - just until your lips smack apart, his nose still pressed to yours as he avoids your chasing with a big grin.

"You're drunk."

"Don't care, wanna kiss you." You just about manage to catch him before he pulls back again.

"Not like this."

And then the touch of him is gone, the bump of his nose and the press of his forehead to yours disappearing in a way that makes you pout.

The way he kisses you again is quick - too quick to react, really - before he retreats again.

"You know where to knock when you're sober."

You let out a groan as you watch him leave, unashamedly watching his ass as he goes, eyes still lingering when he stops at your door and catches you with a knowing smirk.

"Happy Valentines Day, sexy neighbour."

[heavyhitterheaux]

40-22

See Me Through You Fic

Synopsis: You and your husband watch the Super Bowl along with your best friends in NOLA

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a gorgeous anon 😘💕

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Seeing as Joe was doing a press run the week leading up to the Super Bowl in New Orleans, you decided that the two of you should have a party for it at your new house that Joe had surprised you with as a Christmas gift. A party that would literally only be your best friends, but still a party nonetheless. He had noticed that you were missing being in Louisiana more than usual and it had actually been in the works for him to buy it since the beginning of last year.

In order to get your input without actually telling you about it, he would show you different pictures that the designer was sending Joe and as soon as you had given him the approval, everything was a go.

This was your first time actually seeing the house in person and you immediately fell in love. There was a hallway leading to what would be considered the man cave of the house and the walls were decorated with pictures of both you and Joe at your time at LSU. Seeing this definitely made a few tears slip out that you of course blamed on your hormones being all over the place.

Ja'Marr and Justin of course wanted to see the house and essentially invited themselves over, even though they were going to be invited anyway. You had sent a quick text to Erin and Alisha to see if they were free and they of course said yes to be able to spend time with you.

Joe told you that he could order food so that the two of you didn't have to cook and he didn't want you to be on your feet for a long period of time.

Of course he was met with resistance from you since cooking was one of your many love languages the last thing he wanted was an argument to come out of it. He knew once you made up your mind about something that it was the end of the conversation. But if it was something that he was dead set on not letting go, he had no problem letting you know how he felt. But for now, he would just help you with what you decided to make and make sure you got breaks in between.

As you were making your famous chili cheese dip that you knew was going to go in less than ten minutes, Joe had just finished seasoning the wings and was about to put them in the oven.

He had come up behind you and wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss on top of your head.

“You okay? And are my other two babies okay?” He asked and you nodded your head.

“Yes, babe. I told you that I'm fine. And they're fine too.” You replied and gave him a small smile before he gently moved you to the side to open the oven.

“As soon as we're done, you need to sit down and put your feet up so they don't swell.”

“Yes, Doctor Burrow.”

“Princess, I'm serious.”

“I know, I know and I promise I will. Just have one more thing to make and then I'll sit.” You replied as you reached up to kiss him.

“What else do you need help with so I can make this go faster?”

“They’re just cheesesteak sliders, but if you can start cutting up everything that would be helpful.”

“On it.”

When all of the food was done, Justin was already in the kitchen so you told him to come and get his plate so that way you could sit down yourself.

“Justin, it’s hot on the bottom, take the sides of it.” You told him as he was reaching for it.

“Uh huh.” He replied as he was still looking at the television and not at you.

“Don't touch the bottom. It's hot, move your hand away from it.”

Justin once again nodded and you decided since he wasn’t going to listen to just let him learn the hard way.

“Ow! DAMN, THAT’S HOT.”

“I know and I told your stupid ass two times not to touch the bottom, but you were so interested in looking at the TV instead. And you better not break my damn plate either.”

“Joe! Your wife was nicer before you got her pregnant!” Justin yelled towards him and Joe looked at him confused.

“Says who!?” Ja’Marr asked as he immediately chimed in and you gave them both a death glare.

“No, Justin, you just like to do stupid shit.” Joe shot back and Ja'Marr stifled a laugh.

“Next time I'm not cooking shit for yall. I can't even see my damn feet and they're probably swollen and I'm stressed because I'll have to probably call 911 messing with both of you. Justin, take this plate and get out my face. IMMEDIATELY.”

“But we didn't ask you to cook since I…”

“Ja’Marr keep talking and I'm going to make sure the next time I cook for you will be at your funeral.”

Ja’Marr immediately threw his hands up in defense as you went to sit down while everyone fixed their plate.

“Damn that food is about to be good as shit. Baby, can I request meatballs?” Joe asked you and you stifled a laugh.

“SERIOUSLY?” Ja’Marr asked Joe as he shrugged.

“No, Joe you got it backwards. It's funeral chicken and baby shower meatballs.” Erin told him while laughing and Ja’Marr made a face at her.

“Not you encouraging his nonsense….”

“Well Erin come through with the meatballs for our baby shower.” Joe told her and she quickly agreed.

“All you had to do was say the word. Consider it done.”

“So, no one is going to mention how my twin is planning my funeral?” Ja’Marr asked the entire room and everyone gave him a blank stare.

“No.” Everyone replied and you couldn't help but to laugh.

“She’s older and she's pregnant? Yeah, not getting into that one.”

“Some friends yall are.”

The game was just starting and Joe told you to sit down while he fixed your plate for you. He made sure you were comfortable with your multiple pregnancy pillows and put your feet up for you.

“The Eagles have one damn job and if they don't come through, I will RIOT.” Alisha said as she sat to the left of you while Erin was on your right.

“You and me both.” You told her as you turned up the volume.

It was during the second quarter when you suddenly got bored. The Chiefs were playing like they had never seen a football before in their lives and you honestly couldn't believe what you were seeing.

“Are they really serious right now?” Justin said out loud and in disbelief.

“Apparently they are.”

“I told yall that they aren't as good as everyone thinks they are. Because they are playing like straight ass.” Alisha added and everyone couldn't help but to laugh.

“Jalen is cute.” Erin said and you gave her a small smirk.

“AHT! Princess, wipe that smirk off your face!” Joe said and you held your hands up in defense.

“But I…”

“Nope, don't even try it. I saw it.”

“I only have eyes for you and you know that! Last time I checked I am pregnant with YOUR children."

"Mm hmm. Sure."

"Such a big ass baby." You quietly said, but he still heard you.

"Want to repeat that Mrs. Burrow?"

"Nope, I'm good." You replied while taking a sip of your lemonade while both Erin and Alisha laughed.

“As I was saying before, Joe rudely interrupted. Have you seen the entire team!? It's a TRAIN. And I wouldn't get off until I had a taste of the entire roster.” Alisha exclaimed, and you couldn't help but to laugh.

"Alisha, I heard that." Joe said, and she held her hands up and acted as if she didn't know what he was talking about.

“You know that there's 52 people on the roster, right?” You asked her and she immediately nodded her head.

“Like I said before, it's a train.”

Joe was on his second plate of food and focused on the game when you decided to send him a text.

Wifey- Baby, I'm bored.

Joey- You don't want to watch the game?

Wifey- Yes, but at this point I want it to be halftime. But in the meantime could you do something for me?

Joey- Of course baby. What do you need?

Wifey- For you to put your dick inside me

As soon as Joe read the text, his eyes went wide and he glanced at you with a smirk on his face as he bit his lip.

Joey- We have seven minutes until halftime

Wifey- I'm not missing Kendrick so we have to do it now

Joey- Go upstairs and I need to teach you a lesson for having a smirk on your face about that quarterback who ISN’T me

Wifey- So dramatic as usual. Just like a Sagittarius. Smh.

Joey- Just you wait until I get you alone

Once you got up, Joe was following your lead and Ja’Marr suddenly made a face at both of you.

“Where yall going?”

"Just going to the bathroom." You told him, but looked at you confused.

"And taking your husband with you?"

"Look Ja’Marr! My whole body is swollen and I can't see past my boobs!" You exclaimed as you crossed your arms and continued walking towards the stars as Joe stifled a laugh.

“Those things are going to be Z cups by the time the twins get here.” Alisha said without hesitation.

"So, you don't know where your vagina is located anymore?"

“Ja'Marr, if your twin wants to get her cheeks clapped by her husband who has clearly done it multiple times before since she's pregnant, that's her business. That's obviously where they're going.” Erin told him and he made a gagging noise.

"Bam Bam, keep talking and I will choke you.”

“Wouldn't be the first time.”

"Unless you're volunteering to wipe my ass, baby brother. By all means, come on.”

“NO! I'm good!”

“That's what I thought and that's why you need to mind your damn business.”

“You're my twin so you are my business.”

By this time, you had reached the top step and rolled your eyes before you responded to him.

“Leave me alone, Ja'Marr!”

“Never going to happen!”

As you entered your bedroom, you were attempting to walk towards the bed before Joe tugged your arm in another direction.

“If I take you on the bed, you know for a fact we'll be up here for the rest of the game and you are entirely too loud. No offense, princess.”

“Hmm, good point. Bathroom it is. And if Ja’Marr would have minded his business we would have been up here sooner! We have like 4 minutes now.”

“Then stop talking and let me take care of my wife.” Joe told you as he leaned down to kiss you.

“You don't have to tell me twice.”

As you were coming down the steps, Erin was grinning and wiggling her eyebrows at you and you instantly laughed at her.

“Nasty ass fuckers. Couldn't have even waited until we left.”

“I seriously went to the bathroom, dumbass!” You replied as you took your rightful seat in between your best friends just in time to see Kendrick come on the screen when Alisha leaned over and whispered in your ear.

“I know that white boy be turning you every way but loose.”

You tried so hard to keep a straight face but failed miserably as Ja'Marr shot you a look.

“What are you two whispering about?”

“You'll never learn, will you?” You asked and he shrugged his shoulders before turning back to the TV.

“Probably not. You know I'm nosey.”

“And no lie was told.”

It was now the third quarter when the Chiefs finally decided to score, which clearly still left everyone unimpressed.

“See that's what they asses get for making sure we didn't make it in the playoffs.” Ja’Marr muttered to your husband who quickly agreed with him.

“Look, I'm just happy that I don't have to look at Taylor Swift for four quarters.” Erin confessed with Alisha letting out a laugh.

“And her boyfriend has done absolutely nothing this entire game.” You added before getting up and sitting on Joe's lap.

You sat to the side so that you could put your head on his shoulder and your feet in Ja’Marr's lap who quickly protested.

“Why are these things on me?”

“So they don't swell. Help a pregnant lady out. And besides I fed you and you're in my house. And I just got a pedicure so leave me alone!”

“She has a point.” Joe said and he crossed his arms in response.

“My going rate for babysitting those two when they get here is 50 dollars. EACH.”

“BULLSHIT. We watch baby uno for FREE.” Joe exclaimed in response.

“Because he's a low maintenance baby! Yall kids are about to be spoiled as hell with big ass heads that look like Joe. That last sonogram picture was wild. Count on having a c-section.”

“HEY! MY HEAD IS NOT THAT BIG!”

“Keep telling yourself that, Shiesty.” Justin muttered and it took everything in you not to laugh. You turned away from Joe, but he could feel the vibration of your laugh since you were leaning against him.

“My own wife laughing about jokes about me, I see.”

“Um, pookie… have you seen your baby pictures? It's always been big.” You asked him and he turned up his nose.

“I…forget about that Birkin you wanted for Valentine’s Day.”

“Hold on! Wait! I take it back!”

“Nope. Damage is done. I'm sleeping in the guest room.”

“Okay Mr. Dramatic.”

“AYE! ANOTHER TOUCHDOWN!” Justin exclaimed as he raised his arms in excitement.

“Andy needs to whoop everybody's ass on that field.”

“I think the Eagles got him covered in that department.”

“No 3 peat is happening at this point.”

It was now the final seconds of the fourth quarter and it was now set in stone that the Eagles had won. They were interviewing Jalen when a thought popped up in your head.

"I can not believe they got their ass beat this bad. I feel like a curse has been lifted." Justin said, and you stifled a laugh.

“I expect everyone in this room that has an NFL contract to be in the super bowl next year. Do with that information what you will.” You said and all three of them looked at you.

“If the front office actually gets its shit together so we can keep everyone we need.” Joe said before rolling his eyes.

“Are we going to make bets? I think we should.”

“Sure when the regular season starts, but my husband needs to take me to Disney World after he wins. And Ja’Marr is on babysitting duty.”

“Fine, 250 dollars an hour. EACH.”

"You must be out of your damn mind." Joe told him in response as he looked at him in disbelief while you were laughing.

[maretinelli]

F1 SIMULATOR

Lando Norris X fem!reader

Summary: When Y/n accompanies Lando to McLaren headquarters for his training, and at the end of the day he teaches his girlfriend how to drive an F1 car on the simulator.

Words: 2.7K+

Warnings: Cute, mentions of engineering course, teasing and some parts that can be suggestive haha I think that's it.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. And you can also request stories on my profile.

MASTERLIST

The car pulled smoothly into the parking lot of McLaren's headquarters in Woking. The overcast grey sky heralded the approaching storm, thunder rumbled in the distance, and lightning streaked the horizon. Inside the car, Y/n gazed out at the damp, cold British landscape as Lando switched off the engine.

He turned to her with a soft smile, his hand resting lightly on her thigh.

"Are you sure you'll be okay on your own?" He asked, his voice carrying a tone of concern. "If you want, you can join me in the conference room. I don't mind having my girlfriend around while we discuss numbers and strategies."

Y/n smiled, her gaze shining with affection.

"I'll be fine, love. Besides, Oscar said he's bringing Lily, and the two of us will be able to talk. We probably won't even notice you're gone."

Lando arched an eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "You didn't even notice we were gone? So you two prefer each other's company to ours? I'm starting to feel shortchanged."

Y/n laughed and quickly replied: "Well, you're the ones who leave us out with these meetings and simulators. We're just creating a plan B."

He laughed and, without answering, got out of the car, walked around the front of the vehicle and opened the door on her side, extending his hand. Y/n took his hand and got out of the car, feeling the damp cold of the weather.

"Thank you, sir." She teased, giving his hand a light squeeze.

The two began walking side by side, hands intertwined. The wind ruffled Y/n's hair, and she looked up at the sky again.

"Looks like this rain is going to ruin our plans to go out tomorrow." He commented, watching another bolt of lightning cross the dark clouds.

Lando snorted. "I know, I was excited to go out and check out that restaurant, but with this weather..." He grimaced. "I guess we'll just have to stay stuck inside the hotel watching movies."

Y/n feigned discouragement. "Wow, how boring... Spending the day cuddling watching movies with you. How am I going to survive?"

"You're terrible." He chuckled and gave her a quick kiss on the temple.

Further ahead, near the entrance to the headquarters, Oscar and Lily were already waiting for them. The Australian girl smiled when she saw Y/n approaching, while Oscar waved to Lando.

"Wow, Piastri, how did you manage to get here on time?" Lando joked as he greeted his friend with a quick hug and a pat on the back.

Oscar rolled his eyes but replied with a smile. "Lily wanted to come early so she could have more time to talk to Y/n while we're stuck in meetings. I just obliged."

Y/n laughed, and Lily lightly slapped her boyfriend's arm.

"And why is he complaining? Better that than hearing me talk about how I didn't get a chance to talk to Y/n all night!" Lily countered.

Y/n laughed and pointed at the Australian. "See, Oscar? I'm your girlfriend's entertainment."

Lando sighed dramatically.

"You two look like a couple, and we're just the jilted lovers."

Y/n smiled in amusement, putting an arm around Lily's shoulders. "Sorry, boys, but we have a bond that you'll never understand."

The pilots laughed, and Lando squeezed his girlfriend's hand while Oscar pulled Lily closer. They walked together to the entrance of the headquarters, the two of them immersed in conversation about the day's agenda, while Yin and Lily talked about the college course they were taking.

"I'm still struggling with fluid dynamics." Lily commented. "Do you have any tips? I swear this professor is doing it on purpose to confuse us."

Y/n smiled. "Believe me, when I took this class, I thought I would never survive. But I can give you some summaries that saved me."

Once they entered the headquarters, it was time to part ways. Lando turned to Y/n, holding her hand.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" He asked again.

She smiled.

"Yes, love. I have Lily to keep me company. The one who might end up bored is you, in that boring meeting."

"I'll run out soon and see you again." He leaned over and kissed her cheek before pulling away.

Oscar and Lando headed to the meeting wing, while Y/n and Lily walked to the headquarters' large winter garden. The space was wide, full of comfortable armchairs and a panoramic view of the trees wet from the fine drizzle that was beginning to fall.

"Lando takes such good care of you. You can see it in the way he looks at you."

Y/n smiled, feeling her face heat up a little. "Yeah... We've been together for four years and it feels like we're still on an endless honeymoon."

"That's rare. But you two are perfect together." Lily smiled fondly.

Y/n just smiled, looking at the gray sky as she felt her heart warmed by the presence of the one she loved.

They spent most of the time talking about their universities, discussing assignments, exams and the challenges of the mechanical engineering course. Lily took the opportunity to ask for some tips on more difficult subjects, while Y/n shared her experiences from her last year of college.

Between one conversation and another, they also talked about their boyfriends' races, commenting on recent performances and some funny stories from the paddocks.

Meanwhile, Lando and Oscar were stuck in endless meetings, listening to strategy, planning and technical discussions about the season's car. Then, they moved on to the fast practice sessions in the simulator, where they could finally relax and compete against each other for a few laps.

After hours of talking, Y/n and Lily were now in an area where some old McLaren Formula 1 cars were on display. They walked slowly, observing the details of the historic models, but so immersed in the conversation that they didn't notice that Lando and Oscar had already left the meetings and the simulator.

They had both sent messages saying they were free, but neither of them even looked at their cell phones.

The McLaren drivers were walking through the corridors, looking for their girlfriends. Lando was looking around with a certain urgency, and the Australian didn't miss the chance to tease.

"You look like a dog looking for its owner."

Lando rolled his eyes, but laughed. "And you're like a parrot commenting on everything I do."

Oscar laughed out loud, shaking his head. When they turned a corner, they finally found them downstairs, still deep in conversation and laughing about something. Lando smiled automatically when he saw her, and Oscar did the same when he looked at Lily.

The two looked at each other and laughed.

"Look at us..." Oscar commented, still laughing. "Smiling like idiots at our girlfriends."

"What can we do? We're romantics." Lando shrugged, laughing.

Without wasting time, they went down the stairs, but as soon as they stepped onto the lower floor, Lando ran a little and hugged Y/n from behind, making her startle and quickly get out of his arms.

"Oh my God!" She turned around reflexively, ready to react, but as soon as she saw it was him, she smiled. "Lan! I almost hit you thinking it might be someone else!"

He laughed, pulling her back into his arms. "If it were anyone else, I'd help you beat him up myself."

Y/n laughed and hugged her boyfriend back, feeling Lando rock them a little from side to side playfully.

"How were the meetings and the simulators?" Lily asked, looking at her boyfriend.

"I for one nearly died of boredom!" Lando made a dramatic expression.

"He almost fell asleep in the middle of one part." Oscar laughed.

"LIE!" Lando protested. "I just closed my eyes for a second."

"Thirty!!" Oscar says.

Y/n laughed and teased, "You don't have the patience for long meetings, love. That was to be expected."

Lando rolled his eyes, but laughed along with the others.

Oscar then looked at his watch and sighed. "We need to go, we have a reservation at a restaurant and we're already late."

Y/n broke free from Lando's embrace and pulled Lily into a tight hug. "Enjoy!"

"See you later!" Lily smiled.

Y/n waved at Oscar, who waved back before walking away hand in hand with Lily.

Lando and Y/n watched the two walk away, and then she turned back to look at the old McLaren cars. She ran her hand delicately over one of the panels and commented.

"It's incredible to see how the technology of these cars has evolved over the years. Every detail, every aerodynamic change... Everything has a direct influence on performance."

Lando watched her with an admiring smile.

"I think it's so cute when you talk about cars like that. I can see how much you love the course you're taking."

Y/n smiled, and before she could respond, Lando pulled her into a kiss.

The touch was gentle at first, their lips meeting in a calm, almost exploratory way. Lando held her face gently, deepening the kiss little by little. Y/n felt her body relax against him, her hands sliding to the back of his neck as she enjoyed the moment. The kiss was enveloping, slow, but full of affection, as if it were a silent way of showing how much he loved her.

Lando pulled back a little, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"I have an idea. Come with me, love!"

Before Y/n could ask what he had in mind, he grabbed her hand and started pulling her down the hallway.

"Hey, where are we going?" She asked between giggles, trying to keep up with his hurried pace.

"You'll like it!" He looked back and smiled.

Norris climbed a few flights of stairs, pulling Y/n by the hand excitedly. They passed through a few corridors until he stopped in front of a door with the sign 'Simulator' written on it.

He opened the door and let her in. The room was large, with soft lighting, screens scattered around, and in the center, a professional Formula 1 simulator. The black and orange McLaren cockpit glowed under the lights, with a steering wheel full of buttons and a screen on the dashboard.

Lando closed the door and smiled mischievously. "I'm going to teach you how to drive a Formula 1 car."

Y/n widened her eyes and walked towards him, who was already fiddling with the simulator's settings.

"You're kidding, aren't you?"

"Not at all." Lando laughed.

She let out a surprised laugh, shaking her head. “I can’t believe I’m about to destroy a virtual McLaren car.”

Lando made a funny face and shrugged. "Not a problem."

Y/n chuckled softly.

"What if someone comes here?"

"It's okay, I'm an expert at getting out of awkward situations." He winks at her and Y/n laughs, remembering how her older brother once caught them alone at home making out, right at the beginning of their relationship and Lando gave a cheap excuse, but it worked. "Now come on, love! Sit here!"

Lando adjusted the seat for her, adjusting the steering wheel and making sure everything was in the right position. With each adjustment, he got closer to her face, and Y/n smiled at the corner of her mouth.

He noticed and leaned in even closer, just inches from her face.

"Why are you smiling like that, huh?" He asked provocatively.

"Nothing, nothing." She blushed and laughed, looking away. Y/n touched the steering wheel, feeling the texture and analyzing the details. "This is much more complex than it looks!!"

"It's very realistic. You can feel every detail of the track, even the bumps." Lando smiled.

"What if I get it all wrong?" She hesitated.

"You won't make any mistakes, my dear. I'm here to teach you!" Lando smiled lovingly at her and then began to explain the basic buttons, how to brake and accelerate correctly. "I'll set a quiet track to start, how about Silverstone?"

Y/n nodded, and Lando finished the adjustments. He stood behind her seat, his hands on the back.

"Ready?"

"I have no idea."

She accelerated too hard at the start, and the car spun around the first corner. Y/n groaned in frustration.

"Well, I think I was born to be an engineer, not a pilot."

Lando chuckled. "If it's any consolation, even I've done that in real life." He leaned down and kissed her head.

Y/n laughed, took a deep breath and continued. She was in last place on that first lap, missing turns and crashing into other cars, but Lando laughed at every comment she made while still encouraging her.

"Damn, I'm such a bad driver! How did I get my driver's license?"

Lando laughs and strokes her hair. "It's different, love. That's why you're getting errors in the simulator!"

With each mistake, he would lean in closer to correct something, purposely getting close to her ear to explain, or letting his lips lightly brush against her neck just to see her shiver. And that made him smile hugely, knowing that he still had that effect on her.

"If you finish a lap without spinning, I'll give you a prize."

"What kind of prize?" Y/n raised an eyebrow.

Lando smiled mischievously and got closer to her ear, brushing his lips a little on his girlfriend's neck until he reached her ear and said something extremely suggestive, making her smile big and blush at the same time, turning to look at the pilot.

"Now I really want that perfect lap."

"Alright. I'll make sure to do that when we get to the hotel then!" Lando laughed too.

Y/n improved, she still made mistakes and crashed, but she managed to gain some positions. Whenever she did something right, Lando celebrated and smiled proudly. Sometimes, he put his hands over hers on the steering wheel to help her with the curves, and Y/n smiled when she realized how much he was enjoying that little adventure. Even more so with the teasing.

As he watched her, Lando realized that even after years together, he still felt in love like a silly teenager. Every detail of her, every quirk, every laugh—he loved everything about Y/n.

"Calm down, love!!" In a sharp stop, he suddenly grabbed her waist, pretending to protect her.

Y/n laughed and turned to him. "Thank you for saving my life, my hero."

They both laughed, and she went back to driving.

When she realized she was falling behind, Y/n glances sideways and then tries to change something on the simulator's steering wheel discreetly.

"Are you cheating?" Lando places both hands on her shoulders.

"Me? I don't even know how to use it." She feigns innocence, placing her hand on her chest and smiling sideways.

Lando chuckled, kissing her cheek.

After a few laps of spinning the car, hitting walls and nearly running over the simulator engineers while changing tires, Y/n finally managed to complete a decent lap. In last place, but without incident.

"YOU DID A LAP WITHOUT SPINNING! AMAZING!" Lando jumps up and raises his arms, as if she had won a GP.

Y/n laughed so hard she laid her head on the steering wheel. Completely ignoring the laps I still had in the simulator to complete the race.

Lando, excited, picked her up from the bench and spun her around in the air.

"AHH!! LAN!!" She let out a surprised scream before laughing even harder, briefly laying her head on his shoulder. Feeling her heart swell even more with love for him.

He placed her on the floor and held her face before kissing her. It was a kiss full of pride and affection, with his lips moving slowly over hers, showing how happy he was.

When he walked away, he smiled. "I can have you fill in for me in some races now."

"Oh, of course!!"

The two laughed, but before they could say anything else, a McLaren employee walked into the room and frowned when he saw them there.

"You guys... what are you doing here?"

Lando was quick. "Oh, I was just testing a new simulator setup. Very important for the development of the car and eventually my girlfriend came along, she's a mechanical engineer and she had doubts about something."

"Ah. Okay!" The engineer nodded innocently and left the room. Closing the door again.

Y/n and Lando looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Hey, good excuse huh!"

"Isn't it? I'm really amazing!"

They exited the simulator still laughing, and Lando intertwined his fingers with hers, with Y/n resting her head on his shoulder, as they walked through the corridors.

The rain that had been threatening to fall since early finally began to beat against the windows of McLaren's headquarters, but Lando didn't seem to care. He looked at Y/n as if she was the only important thing there.

And for him, indeed, it was.

Author: When I had the idea I thought it would be really cool, but I ended up not liking the story very much. Sorry if it's bad😭

[weaselle]

i definitely wouldn't consider myself abused, but my parents did things that were cruel and some that could be considered abuse, and they did it because they thought they were helping.

Things like not even telling me when teachers recommended i skip grades, not telling me when coaches recommended i be transferred to more competitive, higher skilled teams (they had no idea just how horrible my self image was, and thought they were helping me have a normal social development, when really they were hiding things from me that could have helped me overcome what is now a lifelong psychological issue)

They did things like kept me on restriction for 7th, 8th, and half of 9th grade. Restriction in my house meant no leaving the property, no having anyone over, no screens of any kind, no phone conversations, and sometimes i was also on book restriction, which meant no non-school books and involved being searched for contraband fiction everyday before i left for school.

They didn't say hey, we're going to lock you up in solitary confinement for 2.5 school years during the time when social interaction is most important for normal development. They simply said "every friday you need to get each one of your teachers to sign off that you completed 100% of your homework and turned it in on time for the week, or else you are on restriction for another week" and my adhd ass with my dysfunctional executives could never manage to do it.

They didn't say hey, we're going to let you continue to wallow in the belief that your birth parents were right to abandon you because you are not smart enough or good enough to be a worthwhile person. They simply thought "if a child skips grades and leaves their sports team friends behind they won't have a normal childhood" and left me with no way to know I wasn't incompetent and worthless.

They thought they were motivating me to do my homework. They thought they were helping. They were trying to get me to follow a normal childhood trajectory and develop good habits and achieve good grades so i could succeed in life. The reality is, it was very damaging to me. But they had three other kids and a lot to manage and didn't really realize what was going on with me, and what they were doing seemed very reasonable to them.

They love me and did some truly wonderful parenting.

And they also did a lot of damage. To me in particular. They really fucked me up. That's just the way things are.

They are good people who did their best. No child should be so confined that long the way i was, true. And their best in certain areas (like being perfectionists who only ever told me how i did things wrong) which might have merely been not great for another child, was incredibly bad for me because of my specific needs. In retrospect it seems like maybe they should have known better. But also in retrospect they were just normal adults making mistakes. In most areas they were better parents that many, many people have access to. And they also did some things that were terrible for me.

I know my experience is not the same as people who grew up in abusive households, I have had friends and partners who were very abused indeed. But I do think this post touches on something that is real, and worth digesting, and perhaps my own experience shows the far edge of the concept, as a place to start thinking about it.

otherwise interesting post ruined by the bold insistence that you can never accidentally abuse someone & that all abusive people are self-aware evil masterminds

[prettycottonmouthlamia]

I'm beginning to think in the context of "haha you might be trans" and "wow all men suck" jokes being perceived on this website as deeply awful and offensive to the person being joked about that a lot of you have deeply shitty cis men friends who can't take a joke.

When a friend of mine recommended Gushing Over Magical Girls I literally went "have you tried estrogen???" because the only people I saw talking about this series were other trans women, but he's not a fucking baby and found it funny. He did not find it an attack on his fucking masculinity or whatever.

The idea that trans women are reinforcing awful gender stereotypes through egg jokes, that we're pressuring feminine men somehow into being trans women, is TERF rhetoric. It's the defining rhetoric of conversion therapy, that trans people and trans healthcare are taking feminine, gay men and turning them into trans women. Just admit that you fucking hate women and get away from us.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

One thing that sticks out to me that not alotta people mention is that Ramshackle wasn't the dorm's original name? Like, I recall in the light novel that Grim complains about the disrepair of the dorm, specifically calling it "Ramshackle", which the 3 ghosts then jokingly say "Hey! That's we can call it! Ramshackle Dorm!" It's interesting

I think people tend to not mention it because they genuinely overlook that detail (I'm included in that group www). The naming of our place of residence actually occurs in the game's prologue as well, but it's VERY easy to miss because of how it is presented. We first arrive at the dilapidated dorm building in part 5 of the prologue:

The problem here is that, as you can tell from the screenshots above, the location placards the game presents us with already names this location as "Ramshackle Dorm" (even though Crowley does not refer to it by any name prior to this). This would lead many players to assume the building has always been called Ramshackle.

In part 8 of the prologue, Grim complains that the dorm is "ramshackle"--which, as you should note, is not capitalized. The adjective ramshackle means "(especially of a house or vehicle) in a state of severe disrepair"--an apt description of the place. However, because it is not capitalized here, Grim isn't yet naming the building Ramshackle, and we quickly move onto an entirely new topic of discussion after this comment.

It is not until part 20 (the final part of the prologue) that Grim officially names the building "Ramshackle". His wording implies that he and Yuu agreed to calling their dorm "Ramshackle" when this conversation really did not happen earlier. There was never a formal scene dedicated to Grim and Yuu chatting about what they should call their new home.

This is expanded on in the first volume of the light novel, but it is also easily missed because while most Twst fans do play the game, not many have the attention span or the interest to read the novelization. There are many things added or changed in the light novels that are missed because of this.

The expanded conversation occurs on page 112 in the English light novel:

You'll notice that in the light novel, the adjective "ramshackle" is capitalized to "Ramshackle", which denotes a proper noun/refers to a particular place. This is followed up by the ghosts commenting that they love the name Ramshackle for their historical home. It's much more obvious in this version of the Twst main story that "Ramshackle" is a name Grim came up with and not a name that the dorm always had.

I guess I always felt that "Ramshackle" was an official name for the dorm and not one we came up with because of the ease with which everyone in the cast adopts the term??? Like no one ever questions what it refers to, even the students we've never met before or even Crowley, who reasonably should know that building's original name. Everyone else just kind of accepts that's what it is called now, even though we technically are only ever shown telling Ace and Deuce on-screen what we've dubbed the old dorm. I think we're supposed to suspend our disbelief for this detail or are expected to assume that the name spread around the student body through the rumor mill (cuz surely everyone would be gossiping about the strange new magicless student from another world) 💦

[moonwyzard]

it's interesting how the anti-lumon protestors and people who politically oppose the severance procedure in general are really doing absolutely nothing to actually help the innies, (at least from what we're able to see.) like their position makes sense but their actions and their rhetoric seem to both infantalize and antagonize the people who chose to get the procedure and doesn't even really seem to involve them in the conversation in any way.

it feels like a lot of blame is put on the people who chose to get it done rather than on lumon itself, which ofc does nothing useful and only alienates people who already have bad enough shit going on in their lives that they chose to get the "split my brain in half" surgery. many of them oppose lumon as a whole but a lot of the time characters on the outside seem neutral towards them at worst until the subject is brought up, at which point they seem to find it easier to just believe that anyone who would do that to themself is an irredeemable bastard and there could never possibly be circumstances to justify that decision that aren't black-and-white.

i think it's also just really telling how these people all want the procedure to be outlawed but don't seem to care or even consider that the innies they are so worried about the subjugation of would all immediately die if that happened. nobody on that side of the fence seems to consider that they aren't all miserable and suicidal and most of them would probably like to continue to get to be alive. not that lumon gives a shit about them either but it doesn't really feel like nearly anyone on the outside thinks of them as people at all.

[brionnnne]

I always find this sort of scarcity to be ridiculous, and a part of me ends up wondering how it harkens back to other social rules (?), even sexuality, aging and so much more, because people seem to assume that things—but also people—aren't meant to be... any expression of life is frowned upon by others. The house should be clean, spotless as though it isn't lived in, when guests come over. A person shouldn't tattoo the only body they have while they have it. Wrinkles? No go, my friend. The sexuality stuff is obvious enough, though, I think. One go, and suddenly it's all a waste. Discards.

So of course, you put a drink on the table, sans coaster, and the stain "ruins it", your new table that you spent money on, and I find it all so tiring. Tattoos, wrinkles, stains, experience and change. The table, I think, lives a little more through that. A scratch here, a scuff there. You've used it, and so it shows signs of love, of age, of change, and becomes something less than the pristine and beautiful table you bought, but it's no less beautiful for that change, and I think about that a lot. How people want things to be "untouched". By life. By age. By change. By other people, even. If anything happens to the table, it is irrevocably "ruined", and we can't have that. Conversely, this is also pretty selective, because someone will, say, take a nice old Victorian and make it a Modern, but I think that is an entirely different discussion.

Mostly, it's about people's need to change things themselves, to come into a house and rearrange the furniture, literally—so, not the talk we're having.

I don't know. Every ring on a table shows it was used, and by being touched, being scratched, having experience, it lived a little bit more in every one of those moments.

The table doesn't need to be "protected", though, and neither does a person. Just because you "might" make mistakes. Like it doesn't ruin you to live a little. It enriches you. Making mistakes, aging, whatever it is— it's always a reason to avoid living. But that isn't true. It's a requirement for living well.

We're always leaving little marks, too, I think, proof of your existence through your actions, a drink of coffee leaves a stain, and two things live at once through their experience of eachother. And I think that's beautiful.

[mo-online]

ranking aftg characters on whether or not i'd trust them to hold my drink

dan: i think she'd be really enthusiastic about it, but she'd get a little too intense trying to stare down anyone who even looks at it and drop the whole cup. good effort, but now i have no drink.

kevin: no, he drinks it and now i once again have no drink.

andrew: maybe? unless i'm a new recruit and we're at eden's.... 😬 he'd fight off anyone else who tried to spike me, but god forbid i look a little suspicious and oop! there he goes, doing it himself. so maybe i'd rather not, actually.

matt: oh absolutely, are you kidding? he's holding all of the girl's drinks throughout the night, hand over the top. hell he's probably holding like three purses too. he's truly the carries everything bf when he goes out with the girls. i love him.

aaron: you know what, yeah. i would. i don't think he'd be super fixated on it with a hand over the top like matt, he'd probably just casually hold it for me while i'm in the bathroom and stand by the door, but i think he'd be chill enough to trust.

seth: corpses can't hold drinks. there is dirt in my beer now. absolutely not.

allison: my favorite girl's girl. absolutely. she has a hand over it and starts barking at anyone who even tries to come near my drink. maybe she bites a man. who knows! i love her.

nicky: no. he sits it down somewhere, forgets about it, and now i have no drink and the motherfucker won't even pay me back because he "didn't drink it." i'm not saying you did, babes, but that was a whole vodka cran and you lost it.

renee: yes, but she lectures me for two hours about drinking too much and being safe afterwards and kills my vibe. i do think she'd knife anyone who even tries to snatch it, tho, so i guess she's chill.

neil: i ask and he calls me a pussy and walks away. i get drugged and die. all he has to say at my funeral is "damn."

jean: he is also a girl's girl and gets really obsessive over keeping it safe. zones out of conversations because he's too focused on just staring at it. will not even fucking blink. he offers to hold it for me the rest of the night and i have to literally steal it back so he doesn't have a panic attack over trying to keep it within his sight at all times.

jeremy: also leaves it somewhere and forgets about it, but buys me three more to make up for it and apologizes so hard he cries. i get way drunker than i intended and also cry. we have to be carried home.

riko: the one they're keeping it away from. fuck no.

[ephemeralinstance]

Lavellan in Veilguard

The scenes with the Solas-romancing Lavellan in Veilguard are, for me, one of the writing highlights of the game. Of course there are limitations with her being an NPC, but I think that subject to the constraints of the structure of the game, the writer did a really great job of a very difficult piece of writing - creating a depiction of the character that fits with thousands of different versions of Lavellan.

First of all, Lavellan's dialogue is elegant and lyrical, matching the cadence in which Solas speaks and thus showing how in-tune they are even after all these years. One thing I loved about Inquisition was that the language was often really beautiful, so I enjoyed seeing that kind of poetic language return here, and I think the writer understood and captured the heart of what a lot of people loved about the Solas romance - the poetry and beauty of it.

In addition, we get a range of different emotions. Lavellan expresses sadness ('He meant that much'), passion ('You've felt the power of that mind'), anger ('He left me to clean up his mess'), self-doubt ('Am I the prideful one?'). Whatever reaction you personally envision your character as having, you can find it represented in what she says here. I know some people wished Lavellan could have more of an angry confrontation with Solas, but that probably wouldn't have been possible without just allowing us to directly control Lavellan; I think the writer achieved a good compromise by showing us her anger and hurt in this conversation. 

At the same time, she's shown to be mature, self-aware, and reflective. We see her questioning herself, asking 'Am I the prideful one, imagining his broken heart so I'd never have to face my folly?' Lavellan isn't deluded; she's not romanticizing what happened. If she chooses to go with him, it's clear that she isn't naive or being manipulated. She's making this choice in a fully aware, thoughtful manner. And although Lavellan loves Solas deeply, he isn't her first priority. It's important that when Rook asks her if she'd be willing to leave with Solas, she states, 'No. We have to save the world first.' We're shown very clearly that she has a life outside of Solas, and she prioritizes her duty to the people of Thedas: only once her task is done is she able to put herself first, and finally choose her own desires over her duty for once. It's also impressive how clearly she understands Solas, as evident in her speculation that he's left clues because part of him wants to be stopped. I particularly liked the fact that she's shown to have a deeper understanding of him than Rook, as seen in their exchange about 'lies of the heart.' Rook just sees one superficial version of Solas as 'god of lies,' whereas Lavellan understands that although Solas did lie to her, at a deeper level he isn't good at concealing what he really feels. Lavellan absolutely knows and understand Solas' flaws and the 'bad' side of him that Rook has seen, but she also knows a different side of him that no one else has seen. If Lavellan chooses to go with him, it's because she understands him completely: she sees all the good and all the bad in him, and she chooses him anyway.

Finally, sometimes I see people critiquing Lavellan for being passive or not having much going on apart from her connection with Solas. Now first off, this clearly isn't true, since she spends the whole game mustering the armies of the south and sending detailed missives about her military operations - no one in Thedas has more going on than this woman! 

But also, it's important to keep in mind that Lavellan isn't supposed to be a fully-fleshed out character: she's specifically left vague enough so that you can fill in the details with your own Lavellan. For example, we're not told much about what she's been up to in the last ten years, but of course that's not because she's done nothing but pine for Solas: it's simply left unspecified so it can be compatible with different headcanons. Lavellan is specifically written to allow us to fill in the details, and the measure of success is not whether she comes off as a fully-developed character to people who don't have their own Solas-romancing Lavellan (honestly, those people shouldn't even be commenting, this writing isn't for them); the measure of success is whether she works as a stand-in for all of our individual versions of Lavellan. And although of course it's never going to be possible to please everyone, I think the writer did a great job within the limitations of what was possible in the plot.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Some charges my aunties and uncles carried well into the 90s without pardon or exonneration of any kind:

Substance possession, esp weed, ecstasy, cocaine/crack, meth, etc

Cross-dressing (aka wearing more than the allowed number of "opposite sex clothing items, including undergarments that were not visible)

Solicitacion/suspicion of prostitution (the latter is the charge a trans auntie got for carrying condoms on her to a partner's house, the former charge was both accurate and forced on partners across multiple people in my life)

Vagrancy (got outed during a cruising bust and was evicted/blacklisted from all affordable rentals)

Sexual assault/attempted murder (an HIV + trans adult getting trans panicked)

Public indecency (cruising)

Sexual misconduct in the presence of a minor (had sex in their home while a child was present in the household but not in the room)

This is a non-exhaustive list. Many people I loved who lived queerly through the 1950s-1990s had multiple charges in their past. Few had none.

The goal is to criminalize every path to existence we have, and there is a reason that approach is scary and effective.

It also is absolutely not the all powerful steamrolling force people (on borh sides of the conflict) pretend it is.

I grew up in a thriving community of dykes, faggots, queers, drag queens/kings, intersex folks, and trans people. There were enough of us, even in 1998, to fill a 300 person hall for an AIDS memorial during pesach one year, just in the valley. We lived, we loved, we raised children and families, and we waged a background war for our fucking lives.

It is happening again and for many that will be terrifying. I will not lie to you and tell you not to be afraid or that we will suffer no losses. That 300person hall also had near on 150 empty chairs for the dead that year. But I need people to understand that waging the war only feels scary and overwhelming A) in the beginning when you are not yet sure how to fight, and B) when you are alone, overwhelmed, and feeling helpless in the face of a pressing threat. The rest of the time, you will find that the process of learning effective solidarity and resistance is way faster than you think.

I called my mother on Valentine's day and we talked a bit about what it's like as two queer people across generations, to be back here where we were together in my early childhood, and how my mother feels seeing these conversation return after she got nearly a decade of peace and retirement from activism because she believed it was time to pass the torch. She reminded me of a story she used to tell me when I was little

Mom worked for IBM on some major contracts, and she would sometimes find herself out back with the other engineers for a smoke break. Once, a man started talking about the news updates on AIDS: it was spreading amongst not just IV drug users and queers, but amongst heterosexual middle class folks who had never used or swung or sold or anything. At first the conversation is empathetic to the sick, and mom lets her guard down.

"And then he says "but now it's infecting people who don't deserve it. They called it the Gay Plague back then, you know? And I don't know what happened, but the next thing I remember I'd thrown my cigarette in his face, backed him against a wall, and was snarling "NO ONE has EVER deserved this" and you know. He never said anything like that around me again. I don't know if he changed his mind, but from that moment on, he knew that we were in the room with him, and that was enough to get him to keep his fucking mouth shut. The reason they want us scared is because they want to be able to pretend we're never in the room with them. They want to be able to count on our silence, on our cowering and hiding in self preservation. And I don't blame anyone who gives that because we're surviving here, that's not my place to decide for you. But that was the day I learned that I will NEVER allow them to pretend I'm not in the room again."

Criminalization is a form of liminal expulsion of the undesireable from the shared social perception/narrative. If they can imprison us for our basic existence, they can remove us from the room or make it more likely we hide in the shadows. But this is what we mean when we say that they cannot kill us in any way that matters. Every loss, every death matters, but so does every life lived in silence and shadow. And I cannot emphasize enough how many more of the latter there have been in the world.

So if they want to kill us, we will fill their world with the utopia of the love we find in the dark. If they want to banish us we will live out loud until even they can't escape us. If they want to erase our history, I will personally scream it from every rooftop I have access to.

Liminality is a weapon against us, but it has also always been ours more than it is theirs. We make it, breathe it, and change it with our very being. Never forget that you are the culmination of generations of love, life, and survival. We have seen enough attempts at genocide in the world now to know that the meaning of our lives is not what they make it possible to do to us but what we create to stop them.

If they do start rounding queers up it won’t be with the gestapo, but the police, and the crime won’t be written down as being queer, but public indecency, the indecency being queer in public, but that’s the quiet part no one will say out loud.

[akawifeyy]

A DATE AT SEVEN, I DREAMED OF HEAVEN | fic (LN4)

description: after dozens of failed attempts, you finally cave in to your best friend's pleads to let her set you up with somebody.

tropes: blind date, love at first sight, cousin's best friend!fem!reader

face claim: none

trigger warnings: suggestive content, swearing

| note: this is an au i've had in my mind for agessss omg

You were so fed up with the toxic culture of online dating apps that you finally gave in to your best friend Isolde's request, letting her set you up with someone. A blind date was not something you would normally do – it was out of your comfort zone and definitely risky. Perhaps it would be worth it, though. You trusted Isolde, that she wouldn't lead you astray. But even the people with the best intentions could be proven wrong.

According to her, he was cute and funny. A good conversationalist, loyal. "A lot to handle at once, but he's like a puppy. He'll grow on you." The words were somewhat comforting, yet the jury was still out on whether it was a good match. You had been thinking about it all week, staring into space and dreaming about meeting him, the perfect man. 

Today was the day. For lack of better words, it was showtime. The hour was nigh, proving that your delusions would be upheld or shattered. You stood outside the cafe, tapping your foot impatiently as you scrolled through your Instagram feed. You had tried to find your blind date, but he wasn't following Isolde.

It could have been anyone. The guy in the beige trench coat walking his dog, or the man with dyed blue hair and two piercings standing at the crosswalk.

But no, it wasn't either of them.

A tanned, curly-headed man sauntered up to you, his hazel eyes scanning you like he was making sure you were the right person. "Hey, you're Y/N, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, are you my date?" You grinned, blushing as you took in his appearance. Damn, your friend had done a good job. He was exactly your type.

The man outstretched a hand. "I'm Lando. Nice to meet you."

You took the handshake, heat flooding you at the contact.

After pulling apart, Lando opened the door to the cafe, ushering you in first and trailing behind you.

The cafe itself was cozy, with warm lantern lights hanging from the ceiling, and various flora tangling itself throughout the stucco brick walls. The hostess brought you to a comfortable booth in a quiet part of the restaurant, and Lando let you sit down first before striking up a conversation.

"So..." he started, a smile growing on his lips. "You're friends with Isolde, hm?"

You nodded. "Yeah, we've been friends since year one of uni. How do you know her?"

"We're cousins," he confided. "Sadly."

You cocked your head to the side, trying to determine if he was joking or not. "Why is that a sad thing?"

"Everyone thinks we're siblings, and then when we tell them we're not, they assume our parents cheated." He hummed under his breath. Now that you were thinking about it, Isolde and Lando did look an awful lot like one another. They had the same unruly brown hair, tanned skin, hazel eyes. No wonder people were confused. "That's not really a conversation for the first date, is it, though? I'd like to know more about you."

You shrugged one shoulder. "Has Isolde not told you anything about me? I'm surprised."

Lando tapped his fingers against the table, thinking. "I mean, she told me that you went on dates with lots of guys that didn't work out. And not to fuck this up."

You laughed. "Sounds like Isolde."

"Well, want to enlighten me, Y/N?" Lando asked eagerly.

You looked down at your nails, which were painted a soft blue color. Isolde was training to be an esthetician, so she practiced on you frequently, something you weren't complaining about. "I mean, I love to read and write."

"What kind? Poetry? Epics?" he pushed, digging for more information. "I'm sure you're cool, now prove it to me."

You rolled your eyes jokingly. "I write poetry sometimes, but mostly just short stories. Nothing publishable, they're not that good." You ignored Lando's exasperated huff, and continued. "As for reading, I like romcoms and thrillers. I know, they're both opposites, but they're my favorites. Do you like to read?"

Lando shook his head. "Nope, I'm not a reader. But I don't mind you talking about the books that you're reading. Girls talking about their interests are single-handedly the most attractive thing I've ever witnessed."

"And how many girls do you usually have to talk to about such matters?" you inquired.

"I'm not a player, if that's what you're getting at," Lando said, his eyes wide. "I've had a few girlfriends, but none of them worked out. I'm not a cheater. If I'm talking to one girl, that's it. No one else matters."

You pursed your lips. "That's nice."

"It's basic decency," he corrected you sternly. "As for my hobbies, I like to game and drive cars."

"Like... sports cars?" you waited for clarification, confused.

Lando blinked, taken aback. "Y/N...Isolde didn't tell you?"

Panic flooded you, as you thought that you'd missed some important clue as to who he was. You were utterly oblivious. "No?"

"I'm a Formula One driver. For McLaren."

Oh. "Really?" you said quizzically. "She didn't tell me. She was probably respecting your privacy, and left that detail up to you."

Lando inclined his head. "That's nice of her, but I feel like a muppet. Do you watch F1?"

"Not really, I've watched a few Grand Prix, but I don't know much." You swallowed roughly. "Is that a dealbreaker?"

Lando frowned. "No. It's all the more reason to buy you paddock passes and show you what you're missing out on."

The waitress came by, and you ordered a few drinks and a small meal. You kept talking, slowly becoming more relaxed with one another. Lando informed you about his golf obsession, and you teased him, calling him an old man. In retaliation, he stole the cherry from your drink like a quick, cunning monkey, and you laughed so hard you couldn't breathe.

Isolde was right: Lando was amazing.

When you finished drinking and eating, Lando immediately offered to pay, but you pushed back, protesting loudly. "Let me split the bill, please."

"I have more than enough money for the both of us. It's the respectful thing to do," he reminded you.

You scowled at him, but gave up the fight you knew you were losing. "Fine."

You gathered your belongings, entering Lando's number into your phone, and bid him goodnight. Lando had given you a quick kiss on the cheek, thanking you for the date, and your body had bloomed with warmth at the sensation. "See you soon?"

"Yep," you beamed.

You knew this was just the first of many dates, and the start of a romance for the ages.

─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Jealousy

Just an idea that popped into my head. So many jealous!Bucky fics but where's my jealous!reader ones?

Summary: You get jealous when you see Bucky so close to someone and decide to do something to stake your claim

"Staring like that won't do anything."

You glance to your left, raising an eyebrow as Natasha takes a seat next to you. She smiles back, clearly amused at your predicament and takes a sip from her glass of what smells like whisky. Rolling your eyes, you turn back to your glass, poking the large ice cube inside.

"I'm not staring." You scowl, stabbing the ice a little harder with the toothpick in your hand.

"Glaring then. I could feel the heat all the way from the other side of the room."

"Oh please, that's an exaggeration. The only heat around here is the body heat from all the party guests." You look up at Natasha who has this devious look in her eyes. You're a little afraid of what's going to happen next, the last time you saw that look in her eyes was when Tony found all his suits decorated in bright pink confetti that refused to come off for a week.

"Really? Then tell me, how long has that girl been harassing Barnes for?"

"About fifteen minutes give or take." The words slip out before you know it, and regret immediately hits. You just proved Nat's point, and you hate yourself for it.

"Ok fine, I was staring. But it's only to ensure she doesn't do anything shady, or go too far." You raise your hands in surrender. Natasha's smirk lets you know she hasn't bought that excuse one bit.

"Go on." Natasha is clearly trying to hold in her laughter, enjoying it as you fumble for more excuses as to why you were staring at Bucky and the girl by his side.

"Was Y/N caught staring at a certain someone again?" A new voice joins in the conversation and you groan. Wanda slides into view, eyes bright with amusement. "You're getting less subtle as time goes on."

"Please just leave me to drink in peace," you sigh, flopping face first onto the table.

"When the chance is right there?" Wanda chuckles, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You need to go there now and ask him out, or that girl is going to steal him away."

"Couldn't have put it any better myself." Sam comes into view, grinning like a maniac. "I told you before, Bucky's obsessed with you. Man refuses to shut up about you, mentioning your name in his vicinity just sets him off and suddenly he's rambling like some grandfather telling his grandkids about the good old days."

"Will the three of you just scram?" You weakly hit Sam in the arm, causing him to laugh.

"No can do, Y/N. Not when we're the best wingmen and wingwomen in the house." He flashes the other two a grin which they return, clearly delighting in your suffering.

"Hear hear," Wanda chimes in and you give her a small push of annoyance.

"Time's ticking, Y/N. The girl's starting to feel Barnes up." Natasha pats you on the back. "It's now or never."

"I'm going to end all three of you someday." You mutter, pushing yourself upright. Looking at the man who captured your attention the night you found him in the kitchen trying to distract from the nightmares, you realise that he is, in fact, trying to extract himself from the girl whose hands have wandered a little too far.

Something takes over, maybe it's the beast inside that wants to lay claim to everything you consider precious, maybe it's jealousy at how forward the girl is compared to you, but whatever it is, it sends you forwards towards the pair.

Your fingers curl into fists, eyes narrowed as you stalk towards them, a fire coiling inside your chest.

"Hands off my man, or I'll remove those hands for you. Permanently." The words come out as a growl, and your eyes darken. You may be shorter than Bucky, but you're far more intimidating right now, standing by his side as you place a hand on the small of his back.

Bucky blinks, looking at you with surprise written all over his face. He's only seen you like this once — when he'd been badly injured during a mission. Back then you'd stood over him, snarling at anyone who came a little too close and tearing into enemies who dared to try until the medics arrived. Even then, it had taken the combined efforts of Sam and Natasha to calm you down enough such that the medics could attend to him.

"Oh, you didn't tell me you were already seeing someone." The girl smiles, waving at you. "They seem…nice."

Bucky laughs nervously, "they are…nice…"

You narrow your eyes, lips curling and the girl backs off, hands raised in surrender.

"Alright alright, I'll be going on now. See you around, Bucky! If you ever want an upgrade, you know where to look." She winks, waving at him as she leaves, dress swirling around her legs. You hiss, glowering at her retreating figure before turning around, ready to head back to your drinks when a hand rests on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

"Hey doll, about what just happened —"

"Nothing happened." You push his hand off but he simply moves to block your way, giving you a poke in the chest.

"You at least owe me an explanation as to when I became 'your man'." His ice blue eyes sparkle with mirth, a finger gently sliding under your chin to tilt your head upwards. "Is this your way of proposing to me?"

"I —" You feel your cheeks heat up. "I just —"

"Speechless? That's a first." He smiles and you hear your heart thundering in your chest. "You know, if you wanted to go out with me, all you had to do was ask."

You swallow, placing a hand on his chest and push. "You just seemed uncomfortable with her, that's all. Go find yourself a better upgrade."

"That's going to be impossible. After all, I've already found the perfect one and they're standing right in front of me." He closes the distance, taking your hand in his. "So where would you like to take 'your man' tomorrow at 7pm?"

You stare up at him, stomach flipping. Your mouth opens and closes but no words come out. Is this real? Did Bucky just agree to go out on a date with you?

"Does pizza night work or would you prefer something fancier?" He probes, giving your cheek a poke. "Earth to Y/N, are you still there?"

"Yeah. Yeah, pizza night works. That…that sounds good. I'll see you then." You fidget nervously, struggling to compose yourself.

"Didn't think all it took to shut you up was ask you out on a date. If I'd known that I'd have asked you out earlier." He nudges you with his elbow, chuckling.

"Shut up. I'm talking now, aren't I?" You huff, glaring at him.

"There's my Y/N, back to being the most annoyed person to ever exist." He reaches over to ruffle your hair but you shove his hand away.

"Well, I wouldn't be so annoyed if a certain idiot would stop being an idiot." You're fighting the losing battle of being irritated at him, weakened by his acceptance of going out on a date with you tomorrow.

"You did just ask said idiot out, what does that make you?" He grins.

"Someone who's stupidly in love with said idiot, I suppose." You lightly punch him in the chest, embarrassed, and he laughs.

"About time I got you to admit it." He smiles softly at you. "Sam told me that you returned my feelings but I never quite believed it until now. I told him I'd wait until you asked me out, and here we are, although I didn't expect your proposal to go like this."

"I'm too sober for this, I need more drinks. Coming with?" You pinch the bridge of your nose and start to head towards the bar.

"Of course. Can't let my doll out of my sight now, can I? Not after they claimed me so dramatically." He loops his arm around yours and you feel the tips of your ears burn. You can smell his cologne, his scent, and he's yours now, officially. It makes you giddier than any alcohol ever could and it's a nice feeling. Maybe asking Bucky out wasn't such a bad idea after all, even if it didn't go as planned. It did turn this party into a memorable one, and you're sure that girl won't be back to try anything funny.

You're still going to end those three wingmen and wingwomen though.

[politicalunicorn]

Thoughts on Captain America: Brave New World

It wasn't that bad. Lots of people are saying that it sucked, and yes, I was hoping they would do something more interesting with the adamantium but c'est la vie.

The villain was definitely really scary. I think the direction choice of showing us individual people that The Leader was killing is arguably one of the best choices. I found several moments where I genuinely looked at the screen and gawked.

That being said, the villain felt almost cartoonish. Like? C'mon. that phone call with Ross was just... it felt like a my little pony villain, bsfr

JOAQUINNNN MY BABY!!!! We have been LACKING for Peter Parker-coded characters, and he is definitely one of them. I love the way people are calling him baby falcon, bc yes, but also the mentor-mentee relationship between him and Sam???

On that relationship, Sam and Joaquin have the relationship of siblings with a massive age difference. Like eight years at least. Joaquin idolizes Sam and Sam is fond of him, but teases him as well. It's just so cute.

SamBucky nation is winning. Enough said. The I love you was one thing but the "He's also 102 years old" like, ok??? gatekeeping your man?? ok, I see you Sam <3

I did not empathize with Thaddeus Ross. Maybe, if they made him a shittier father, yes I would get the whole new leaf thing. But making his entire arc of bs in the last fifteen years be about Betty was just...not it. Make him have more to prove.

Also the writing of the phone call? Please. I know Marvel writers can do better than that.

this is just a problem with film-making in general, but marinate in the silence. a lot of life is silence, real-life exists in the margins of conversations. like that conversation between Bucky and sam could've definitely had that silence to really pull that impact.

the fight scenes tho??? that was so good, that was acc such good choreography, OBSESSED.

Bucky as a congressman is something that I really like, but was unexpected. I can totally imagine him trying to make the world a better place, but we're probably going to get that guilt-complex justification that marvel always pulls with Bucky.

The Isiah arc?? that line of "Don't Come Back" was SO good. Also, his face when he was shoved into the ground and his cries about his suit, was HEARTBREAKING. just absolutely gorgeous. arguably the best acting performance.

Sabra??? Kind of unnecessary??? like, the black woman (I don't remember her name, sorry) that was Sam's friend in the White House would've had a better role. It would've also been an interesting way to analyze what it meant to be a black woman in the Red Room.

also, if we WERE going to analyze sabra as a character, what does it mean to be Israeli in the red room? I am not a huge fan of boycotting someone based on their identity, because you can't really change where you come from, but we could analyze the status of the ethno-state in the larger marvel universe if we could.

I really wish they had pushed the political intrigue storyline, so much harder.

we do want bruce banner back tho. specifically the insanely lovable version of him in Avengers 1.

I wish they'd make the dialogue more natural

the avengers plot line could've been tied in better?

TLDR: It was a really good movie, with some writing issues and some brilliant performances and some beautiful relationships.

[kaoskuantico]

Growing up faster doesn't mean a child crush should be like that.

Okay, we're calling gassing citizens and abusing them a mistake. And no, Caitlyn didn't try anything. She barely acknowledged she did it. Seriously, did we watch the same show? Caitlyn turned against Ambessa not because she felt sorry for what she did, but because Vi came back to her life. And she didn't even look for her during the timeskip, if they hadn't met again, I doubt Caitlyn would've betrayed Ambessa. And no, Caitlyn didn't target "only" the "bad guys", the gas doesn't discriminate. It travels all around the air, affecting everyone. They even used it in Vi and Powder's old place, why would a chem baron be there?

Exactly, Maddie's potential was absolutely wasted. They didn't even went deeper into Caitlyn's conflict of filling the void with a random subordinate, they just shut her up to have the damn sex scene in the worst place and context posible.

At this point we can't even have a normal conversation about this because I don't even know which show you watched.

I think shipping ruined season 2.

"You criticize Caitvi but you like X". No. I hate all ships.

They focused too much on romantic relationships.

Why does Ekko has such a big crush on her childhood friend who's been killing his friends and terrorizing them for years?

Why does Vi gives so much importance to a woman she met a week ago, and from Piltover, no less?

Even Maddie's character was ruined, she had so much potential either as a naive new enforcer or as a Noxus spy. They chose the most boring route for her, simply to make some angst or something in Caitvi.

Note that I said "shipping", not romance. It truly felt like fan service, all of it.