#wish that people would understand about us

[lyricthecat-12]

I urgently needed to talk about the last scene between Sonic and Shadow in the third movie, because I think what they did is simply beautiful. 🥹💙❤️🖤

Before Sonic 3 came out, there was debate over who would be the one to change Shadow's mind since at that point, there was no solid indication that Amy or Rouge would appear. I was a fan of the idea that maybe they'd have Jojo be the one to remind Shadow of Maria's wish, since she was an established character from the start and fits the profile like a cheerful, caring, and optimistic girl.

However, seeing that in the end they made it so that Sonic was the one who talked to Shadow and convinced him to fight to save the world, surprised me and at the same time fascinated me infinitely more. Because they managed to make the change organic by connecting it with narrative elements that were also raised and developed from the beginning; Sonic's grief over losing Longclaw and his paternal relationship with Tom, making this moment something special and significant for both of them:

It is a moment of connection and understanding between two people who have lost the person who was once the most important in their lives, who loved them when no one else did and gave them a home,

That for a long time they had to deal alone with the pain and guilt of having been the trigger for their deaths but, as they emphasize in the film, While Sonic was able to find a family that would love him and help him get better and cope with that pain, Shadow was alone and the only person he interacted with after awakening, only manipulated him in order to fulfill his revenge.

Until this moment, where Shadow finally meets someone who not only knows his pain perfectly but has also learned to move forward and not let it corrupt him even in the most difficult moments, and who in turn motivates him to do the same.

All of this contributes fantastically to their connection, as it is no longer just that their personalities and ways of acting are opposite, but also the way in which their stories correlate and at the same time distinguish each other, creating a new and emotional parallelism between them: They are two sides of the same coin, two extremes that ultimately come together to bring out the best in each other.

Which is beautifully reflected throughout the final battle. Sonic and Shadow display effortless synergy, supporting each other, backing each other up, and even casually joking around.

A good reminder of the great chemistry and dynamism they used to have years ago. Unlike now that they make it seem like Shadow barely tolerates Sonic, before they both had a friendly rivalry where they respected each other, valued each other and helped each other without problem. And I'm really glad the movie brought back some of that dynamic and reflected it in such a natural and fun way, and I hope that continues for future SCU projects instead of sticking to the current direction.

And I'm not just saying this because I'm a fan of Sonadow, but because I genuinely believe that this is the most natural direction for their relationship after all this time.

[smurphette98]

So, I did this not with a villain, but with an NPC from a D&D campaign I’m running on a day where the group didn’t meet. It’s under the cut if you wanna give it a read!

(CW: discussion of death, resurrection, the afterlife, and murder)

Subreddit: r/relationshipadvice

Title: I haven’t seen my husband in 5 years (because I was dead) and I just found out that he left our daughter with his mother for that whole time.

Posted by u/Lovemordian

Apologies in advance if my Common isn’t great; it isn’t my first language.

I (21F) was recently resurrected by a party member of my husband’s (now 26M) after dying in his arms five years ago. Admittedly, the experience was wonderful, since I had always hoped that magic was real and not just the stuff of children’s stories, and I am not upset at living once more. The afterlife is…well, it’s beyond what I need to discuss here.

The issue I am having is this: while I was dead, I was comforted in the knowledge that our daughter (now 8F) was not going to grow up completely parentless even if I could not be with her. However, when I saw her again after returning to life, she mentioned that her grandmother, my husband’s mother, had been caring for her this whole time. She did not grow up with her father, and the one thought that had kept me sane while wandering the fields of the waiting became a lie.

He says that he left her behind with his parents to ensure that no one would use her to pressure him, that the Flesh Collectors wouldn’t use her as bait to get to him. Though I understand the logic of this, I can’t help but feel a bit disappointed. It feels like he’s trying to be the man he was 5 years ago, but I know he’s gone through much in my absence and I wish he would just be honest with me about it. Does anyone have any advice for how to talk to him about this? In some ways, it does feel a bit as if I’m approaching him as a stranger once more.

Update: Thank you to all who replied with your advices and your recommendations. I do want to answer a few of the questions I saw most frequently:

1) Apparently, he tried to avenge my murder after the judge had been paid off, stealing a highly advanced prototypical weapon designed by a classmate of ours (27 NB) to do it. This is why the Flesh Collectors were after him and why he apparently joined a guild for thieves and assassins that, if I understood him right, was run by a staff member at the university? I don’t know; he seems more comfortable speaking Common than Lamordian, so I may be misunderstanding things.

2) Flesh Collectors are sort of like a police force, but more than anything they are scavengers who harvest body parts that scientists need for their work. The “ethical” ones wait until a body is dead to harvest. The majority of them are not ethical.

Now, onto the update: I had the open conversation with my husband that so many of you recommended. I just asked him to tell me what kinds of things had happened while I was dead, and he was honest with me, just as I always remember him being.

While he was on the run for his vengeance, he fell in with the guild I mentioned and did “less than honorable things” to put aside money for our daughter’s future. At first, I thought he was implying that he had sold intimate favors, but he clarified that it was killing people. He did put aside quite a bit, over 10,000 gp, so I do think it was well-meant. And our daughter seems to hold no resentment toward him, so I don’t suppose I should either. For anyone out there who has been resurrected after a while, is this distance I’m feeling just a symptom of that, or is it something I should be concerned about? Perhaps I should speak to my mother-in-law, as she has always been a source of wisdom in my life. I don’t think I will need to update further, but if more developments happen, I will be sure to let you all know.

if you're trying to get into the head of your story's antagonist, try writing an "Am I the Asshole" reddit post from their perspective, explaining their problems and their plans for solving them. Let the voice and logic come through.

[noxitsnox]

if we get too closе, would it be okay?

hyun-ju x gn!reader - highschool au

summery: hyun-ju came out to her- now ex- girlfriend who spread the rumor around the whole school.

tags: trans/homophobia (the word tr**ny is used one (1) time), bullying, hurt/comfort, lots of fluff i promise, let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: i am obsessed it's not fair. this is pre-t but i'm still going to use she/her pronouns for hyun-ju <3 also english is not my first language and this isn't proof read, so i apologize for any mistake. @exactlyinfp

hyun-ju didn't want to go to school that day. her girlfriend, ex girlfriend now, broke up with her just because she trusted her, because she didn't want to hide anymore and she believed that her girlfriend of almost two years would understand. but she didn't. she called her all kind of names and blocked her everywhere.

she hoped this was where it ended. that they could just ignore each other and keep living life as it is. it would have been so much easier that way. but the moment she entered the school hallway she knew something happened. the looks she was getting were strange, full of hate. definitely not the looks you receive when you just broke up. she tried to ignore it and walked to her class with her head down.

it was early. a lot of time passed before some of her classmates entered the room. maybe it was better if they stayed outside. their chatter died down as soon as they saw her. one of them, who was seated next to her, took his desk and dragged it as far away from her as possible. “you're sick”, he said under his breath. “stay away from me.”

she stayed silent as the realization hit her. if he knew, everyone else did too. fighting tears, she forced herself to keep cool.

slowly people filled the room. everyone ignored her, even her so called friends looked at her with disgust. only y/n seemed to be acting as if nothing happened. maybe they didn't know about it yet. they’ll turn their back to you like everyone else, she thought.

“oh hyun-ju, how are you?”

y/n waited for an answer that never arrived. so, with a sad smile, they spoke again. “it's fine. you don't have to talk with me. you have my number in case you change your mind.”

———

for the rest of the week she ignored everyone. she was barely alive.

every morning she entered school feeling like a criminal. her locker in the changing rooms was filled with insults. some guys even tried to push her on the ground. that was the only moment she reacted. she could ignore words, but physical aggression was were she drew the line.

every night she cried herself to sleep, wishing she had someone on her side, someone to talk to. her family didn't know about what was happening in school and she hoped for it to stay that way or she wouldn't even have a home anymore.

it was on saturday afternoon that she lost it. she was out, getting some groceries for her mother at the local market, and she saw her ex with her friends. she tried to hide before they could notice her, but she wasn't fast enough.

"oh god, isn't that that tranny you used to date?", one said pointing at her.

"don't say that out loud, please. what will people think of me?"

hyun-ju ran away without even taking food from the market stall. she kept running until their voice became indistinguishable echoes.

she sat on the side walk and took out her phone, looking for y/n contact. she started crying, the tears blurring her vision.

their words came back to her. you have my number in case you change your mind. were they serious? she hesitantly called them, hoping for the best.

y/n didn't take long to answer and for that she was grateful.

"hey, you called!"

"i- yes... listen can you, can you come here?"

"oh hyun-ju, you're crying? is everything okay?"

"i don't even know anymore. please, just come here." and with that she hung up the phone, quickly shared the position with them.

she hugged her knees as she waited.

———

y/n was happy that hyun-ju called, even if the situation wasn't ideal. even though they weren't intimate, they cared about her and it made them sad to see her suffer. especially if she was being ridiculed for something beyond her control.

y/n tried to get to her as fast as possible. they went out in their sweats without bothering to put on something nicer. they didn't like the idea of hyun-ju seeing them in that state, but they also realized that they had to put vanity aside at the moment.

as soon as she saw y/n she got up and hugged. they remained in that position for a while. hyun-ju cried and cried while y/n rubbed her back, doing what they could to comfort her.

"sorry... i don't know why i did that", she said as she let go of them.

"you don't have to apologize. do you feel better now?"

"i do, thanks."

an awkward silence fell until y/n suggested they start walking with a wave of their hand, "do you wanna talk about what's happening?"

"i just want to forget about it. can we talk about something else?"

"oh sure", y/n looked at her and smiled. "do you wanna hear about this manga i'm reading?"

a/n: i realize that for an xreader the reader is barely there 😬 sorry. let me now if you liked it!!

[juniperskye]

You’re Not Alone In This.

Based on the following ask: @itzvenus04 Hotch is my comfort character, maybe it’s because he takes care of others and I like that especially when I take care of people all the time, I’m like Cinderella in my house like no joke, if I don’t do it, nobody will ever do it. Anyway, I was wondering if you could do like an Aaron x Diabetic reader fic, as I have diabetes and it’s extremely difficult and exhausting and love to maybe see that with a comfort character of mine. Like Aaron does anything and everything he can to understand the reader and the illness, like when the reader sugar is high or maybe low, taking care of doctor’s appointments, medication drop off, just putting effort in I just want to read something that could comfort me in that way because it’s exhausting being a diabetic and having no one bother to care about it or put effort in, I’m alone essentially - I really hope you like this babe! I did my best!

Aaron Hotchner x Diabetic! Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 1709

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, reader has type 1 diabetes, mention of doctors and appointments, mention of medication/insulin management, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description – other than being a diabetic and having an insulin pump (worn tucked into their waistband or pocket) and an administration site located on their leg (there is mention of a site failure and relocation) as well as a sensor worn on the arm, reader is mentioned to work as well as being active in college courses (not full time), Hotch cares a lot, use of pet names, I think that’s everything – let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You were the type of person who couldn’t bear the thought of burdening others. As exhausting as it was, constantly doing things on your own and taking care of others, you did so without complaint because things needed to get done. It would be much easier to just do them as opposed to putting it on someone else, or worse, adding weight to their shoulders.

This growing sense of solitude grew when you began dating Aaron. It wasn’t that he made you feel alone, actually it was quite the opposite! Aaron was always reassuring you that he was by your side through it all, especially as your relationship progressed. But as things intensified, you couldn’t help but notice the sag in his shoulders, bags under his eyes, and the air of weariness he exuded. Aaron had an extremely difficult job, one that had taken far too much from him, so who were you to make his life any more difficult than it already was.

You did everything in your power to hide things from Aaron – just to keep from filling his plate with anymore worry. You would suffer in silence through the highs and lows of your mental health, the business from working full time and taking classes at the local college…and even more so, your physical health.

You had kept the fact that you had type one diabetes a secret from Aaron…not because you were embarrassed or because you didn’t trust him, it was simply because you knew he’d make it his mission to ensure that you were taken care of, ahead of everything else.

But that was the problem with dating a profiler. Aaron could see through the façade that were your replies of “things are good!” “I’m great.” “Classes are going well.” “I feel fine, just a little tired.” Aaron knew that there was something deeper, looming under the surface, something you weren’t telling him. So, two months into dating you’d had to come clean.

“Sweetheart, I know something is wrong. I just wish you’d tell me so I can help you.” He’d beg.

“Aaron everything is fine I pro-”

“Please don’t say everything is fine…honey, you were basically lethargic the other day when we facetimed, and I was so worried about you.”

“I’m diabetic Aaron. That’s what was wrong. My sugar was low. But everything is fine.” You explained.

After that, Aaron made sure to keep a closer eye on you. Not so much that you’d feel suffocated or like he was babying you, but enough that he could tell if your sugar was too high or too low. Once Aaron found out you had type one diabetes, he dove into late night research sessions on what all your condition entails, how to best manage your insulin, what an appropriate level looks like, how to calculate your carb intake so the proper amount of insulin is being administered as well as how to change your site and how to use the pump.

The change in his behavior was subtle…but noticeable. Aaron started keeping small snacks or juice with him in the case of a sugar low, he also started checking in on you more frequently. When you moved in, the changes became far more obvious, Aaron was doing so much around the house – always doing the dishes, taking the trash out with him on his way to work, doing laundry on the weekends, setting up deliveries for your groceries. It was overwhelming to have someone this attentive.

“Aaron, I can do this!” You giggled as his arms snuck around you, pulling the vacuum from your grasp.

“I know you can sweetheart, but you don’t have to. I will.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, encouraging you to go sit.

His overprotective nature didn’t surface until he witnessed a pretty intense low.

The morning had started off normal, you’d skipped out on breakfast, which wasn’t unusual. You’d completed an assignment for school and taken your dog on a walk when you started to feel off. It had been a little bit warm outside, but with the way you were sweating, you knew that wasn’t it.

You managed to get back home, but not without feeling lightheaded. You reached down to unclip the dog’s leash, and that’s when Aaron caught it, your hands were shaking, so much so that you were struggling to open the clasp.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“I uh, I feel a little…” You pressed the back of your hand to your forehead and with the other, steadied yourself on the entry table. “Can you – would you grab me some…some juice?”

“Yeah, honey why don’t you sit down.” Aaron quickly went to the kitchen and poured a glass of juice.

Aaron watched you insistently as you sipped the juice. He reached over to check your phone, to see if your numbers were starting to regulate. Taking note of the number beginning to rise, he sat next to you and rubbed soothing circles on your spine.

“Honey, did you eat breakfast this morning?” Aaron inquired.

“No, but I never eat breakfast Aar. When I do, my numbers usually end up to high and then I feel sick all day.” You huffed.

“Okay, we will figure it out. Maybe we should schedule an appointment with your doctor.” He suggested.

“It’s always been like this, it’s okay really.”

“I’ll schedule an appointment for you sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to your temple.

Aaron was far more attentive with your illness, going with you to your doctor’s appointments, asking them how to avoid highs and lows, figuring out the best way to manage your insulin. He also began to monitor your medication, making sure you never ran out and that the pharmacy was processing your refills, when they got low.

This day was not going the way you had hoped. Things had been super overwhelming, you had finals coming up for your classes and work had been particularly busy, truthfully you were exhausted. You’d been nauseas all day, your numbers elevated, despite your best efforts to lower them.

You had taken a break from studying to change the laundry when you heard Aaron get home.

“Hey baby!” Aaron pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Hi hon.” You mumbled.

Aaron knew you had been stressed out about school and work, you had put your finals dates on your shared calendar, and he figured that was taking its toll on you.

“Why don’t I make us some dinner? I can grill up some chicken?” He posed.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I can steam some broccoli to go with it.” You suggested.

“Perfect!” Aaron left you with a peck.

You’d finished up with the laundry and went to the kitchen, pulling out a water bottle from the fridge while you got started prepping the veggies.

Aaron glanced at you through the sliding door, he had noticed there were quite a few water bottles and cups scattered around the apartment, more than usual. He couldn’t help the bit of concern that crept in – you’d previously mentioned sugar highs sometimes came with unbearable thirst.

“Sweetheart, have you checked your number recently?” He asked.

“Yes, it’s been a little elevated today.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, a little nauseous but I’m fine.”

The two of you sat and ate dinner while talking about your days. You told Aaron about a new project at work and how you were more than ready for your finals to be over. He shared that he had consulted on a few cases today with some law enforcement from other states – hopefully they wouldn’t get called away this weekend.

After dinner you’d excused yourself to the restroom and Aaron cleared up the table, placing the leftovers in the fridge. He made his way to your shared bedroom and softly knocked on the bathroom door.

“Baby, is everything okay?”

“Aar, I’m fine.” You sighed.

“Would you let me in? Maybe I can help.” He offered.

“I don’t need help – Shit!” You hissed.

With that Aaron let himself in the bathroom, worried that you were hurt.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think there’s something wrong with my site.” You were fiddling with the site attached to your leg.

“Honey, why don’t we change it out, I can help.” Aaron moved to grab everything you’d need for your new site. “Is your sensor good still?”

“I think so.”

“Okay, go lay on the bed.” He commanded gently.

You went to lay on the bed, sliding your sweats off, carefully moving your pump to lay beside you on the bed. Aaron made his way over to you with the new injection set. He assisted you in removing the old one and placing the new one, taking note of the needle being bent slightly.

“Sweetheart, I think this is why you’ve been high all day. Your insulin wasn’t injecting properly.”

“Ugh. Stupid thing! Let’s just put in the new one so I can get this all sorted out.” You stressed.

You had tears in your eyes. Not from the pain of the needle entering your skin, or the sick feeling you’ve endured all day…but from the fact that you don’t get to have a normal day that’s carefree. Aaron has taken so much off your plate by being especially helpful with day-to-day things, but this feels like too much and you feel so alone in your illness.

“Alright honey, you’re all set.” Aaron began cleaning up all the trash from the new injection set.

“Thank you.”

“Hey sweetheart…” Aaron began. “I know that I will never be able to fully understand, but I want you to know that I’m here for you. I want to help you in anyway I can, whether it’s changing your site for you, doing the dishes after a long day, or even just to give you a hug.”

Your tears were falling freely at his confession. You had never felt so seen, so weightless, so supported. You let your head fall back and your shoulders finally relaxed.

 “I love you so much. You have no idea how much that means to me Aaron.” You wrapped your arms around his middle.

“I love you too sweet girl.” Aarons arms enveloped you as his lips connect with your forehead.

[clockwork-hearted]

This was the first queer movie I watched in high school. I remember finally having good, strong WiFi and exploring YouTube one night. Was using my refurbished MacBook that I begged my dad to get me so I can have something to use for school.

I don’t remember how exactly I came across this movie (honestly was probably going through some YouTube rabbit hole of “movies where guys make out” or the classic “two men kissing” search), but it was the full length movie. And it was free.

I was so excited to watch it and see what kind of guy on guy action I would get to see. But being forced to stay in the closet growing up, I couldn’t just outright watch this movie while my parents were home.

So I bookmarked it. Made sure I even saved the link somewhere. And had to wait until my parents weren’t home.

Thankfully, I ended up realizing that I was a teen that was allowed to stay up late on the weekends. So I stayed up, waited until both my parents were in their rooms, fast asleep, and then I went into my room, closed the door (couldn’t lock it though. Locking bedroom doors was an offense that would cause a scene every time for absolutely no reason), plugged my headphones in, and snuggled up and watched it.

I remember sitting upright to start it then getting tired and deciding to lay down. Ended up laying the laptop on its side just so I could keep watching haha

And I remember going through the rollercoaster of emotions seeing these two characters having a connection but being so twisted up about it. Regardless of everything they went through, I still wanted that. I still wanted someone I could kiss passionately. Someone I could go to bed with and wake up next to in our own little world. Someone I could go to the beach with and spend all day with. Someone who wanted to push me for my abilities (don’t have any but it played into my fantasies lol) and strive to be the best I could be at them.

And then reaching the end of the movie and being so happy with it. I remember crying. Crying so much that I thought I wasn’t going to be able to stop. I remember shoving my face in my pillows to try and muffle my crying.

Oh, I learned to cry silently so very quick in my home. How I learned what it meant to be even more suppressed than I already was. How I had to learn to hold back all the choking sounds my throat would utter and just let the tears flow. Silently blowing my nose into tissues so I wouldn’t wake my parents and cause a scene.

“Why are you crying? What’s happening? What did you watch? What’s going on? Etc. etc. etc.” - yeah, like I was going to come clean about my emotions and be able to talk these things out. Pht. How I wished and how I dreamed that I could. Would’ve made growing up easier. But I didn’t have those kinds of parents.

So the first night I watched this movie, it meant a lot in such little time. Movies like this really saved me as a teen.

I started doing a deep dive into any and all other queer movies I could find online for free (but that’s a story for a different time).

Tbh, I had forgotten about this gem of a movie. Made me feel a little guilty for forgetting, mostly because it really helped me continue pretending, and knowing that one day I would find someone to experience beautiful moments with. It allowed me to realize that queer media (that wasn’t porn) was out there, that I didn’t have to feel alone, and that it was only a few key strokes and google searches away.

For anyone who read through this whole thing (I know I blabbed, but I really needed to get this off my chest and my mind), thank you.

And I also hope that even though the world can feel so against you, even in spaces that are supposed to be safe, that there are people out there that know and understand you and can relate to how you feel.

I know it’s always easier said than done, but hang in there. And if it all gets to be too suffocating, please remember there are resources out there to help. But please, please, please, don’t get snuffed out. Let yourself burn as bright as you can. Because at the end of the day, you will always find Shelter- whether it’s with family members, friends, teachers, chosen/adoptive families, online communities, etc. you will find it. And you will be safe. And you will be loved.

I wish you all the very best. May this movie and many others bring you as much joy as it did to me. <3

Shelter (2007) dir. Jonah Markowitz

[breederbutch]

"The homogeneity of the lesbian bar population makes a striking contrast with gaymale culture, which has a long tradition of explicitly erotic cross-class socializing. In general middle-class women did not go to the bars, because they were afraid of being exposed and losing their jobs. Charlie, a chic and competent white fem, remembers how rarely a gym teacher friend would go to the bars:

'Once in a while she would go. She was very nervous about her job. And I can understand it now because that many years ago, and sometimes even now, people want to make problems. They feel that somebody might attack their children.'

However, upper-class lesbians in Buffalo were more public about their behavior. Working-class lesbians knew about them through gossip— for instance, from a gay man who worked for them, or a friend who sometimes went to their parties— or through newspaper stories, particularly about an older group that had been quite prominent in the social life of the city in the 1920s and 1930s. But the upper-class lesbians did not socialize with working-class lesbians in the bars or any other settings. Joanna, a popular and worldly white fem who socialized in several groups, remembers:

'The people [they'd] hang around with were all like professionals, and [their] families were influential, very affluent, and I don't think that [they] would have considered even hanging around with us, say at the bars... Maybe they did go slumming once in a while, but they sure never came to the bars when I was there. And I used to always think, gee, where do they go? Then I found out... to the Westbrook and the Park Lane... can you imagine? and Beatrice was very butchy looking. Wish I had a picture of her, cause you would have died when you [saw] her. Very very masculine woman, and I mean really masculine looking.... They could get in anywhere, are you kidding. They wouldn't have turned her away. Probably spent a fortune in these places.'

In addition to not [sic] going to working-class bars, the upper-class women did not welcome working-class women into their own parties. Arden remembers going with a friend to one of the parties, and the hostess asked 'Who the hell are you and how did you get in here?' Arden took the question in stride and had a pleasant evening, but did not go back frequently.

All narrators are adamant that these upper-class women had little impact on their lives, and the fact that they were known lesbians did not make it easier for working-class lesbians. They think the difference was greater in the old days between those with money and those without. They were more concerned with making ends meet—working everyday, setting up an apartment—while the upper-class women had the money they needed and could concern themselves with more leisure activities."

- Boots of Leather, Slippers of Gold: The History of a Lesbian Community, by Elizabeth L. Kennedy and Madeline Davis (1993)

[vaguely-concerned]

the question is who taught lucanis to knit. was it something he already knew how to do or is he picking it up over the course of the game as part of his 'if I manage to cram enough hobbies in there I won't have to sleep again ever. easy' experiment. did he learn it out of a book (as a sometime knitter, a horrifying thought but I wouldn't put it past him). as hilarious as I find the mental image of caterina with knitting needles I do not believe in it, did he pick it up from someone in the household staff growing up the same way he did cooking. is the sweater he wears with his introductory armour his own work (very funny if so it's just so. incredibly neutral toned and sensible.) I understand why he never does it on screen because animating knitting is the devil's own work and bioware were right to dodge right past it no one should wish themselves that kind of pain, but do you think off-screen he's using it the same way davrin does whittling during team meetings and book club nights (for real the grandmas were so right for this: knitting during social group situations is a neurodivergent life hack like you wouldn't believe if doodling isn't your thing/isn't doing it for you). it's that or sharpening his knives and some people seem to get a bit nervous about that so he mostly sticks to the knit one purl one of it all. does he make things for the team. for romanced rook perhaps. boring but useful things like socks and scarves, to be clear. I think mr. 'I made you a cake (cautiously marital intent)' would not mean to impress just make sure your feet weren't cold jogging around the heights of athim killing darkspawn. knitting more socks for harding so she won't get cold walking around everywhere in her fereldan *checks notes written on palm* clogs. some of taash' outfits... you think rook and lucanis are letting them walk around the anderfels like that without at least a token sensible scarf on even tho adaari are built different in terms of body temperature. I say no not in my lighthouse they would team up and mother hen them to shathann levels before they'd let that happen. (the scarf has dragons on it taash thinks it's kind of cool actually.) a bobble hat for manfred not because he really needs it but because he wanted to feel included. assan indignantly tries to steal it and fly away with it so he gets his own scarf to promote peace between the lighthouse little guys and it works. help.

[pigeonentity]

au where gabriel uses the peacock instead of emilie, and she's the one left with two miraculous and a child

she inherits the gabriel brand. it's her brand now, ppl have to know it or it doesnt count, but changing name and logo isnt great for business-- people want to buy gabriel, not emilie, so the g is now for graham de vanily. she and adrien change their last names to match, and soon she is cleaning them from gabriel entirely, before his death can stain her as gabriel's emilie, rather than just emilie. she needs them to love her. she cared for gabriel, but she has no use for a husband who can't love anything anymore

she starts dating nathalie to finish cutting all ties with him. it isnt really fair on her, emilie just needs her to tell ppl she's moved on. but it's good to know she's beaten gabriel in one more bid for devotion

its funny. she never resented him much in life. in death, she notes he has more billboards than her up in the city. her billboards now, but theyre his. in death, she sees him over her shoulder in her mirror. she gets cast as a grieving widower in her next performance. she gets the hint. she seizes the hint and throws it out the window. she takes the role and pushes for more agency for her character. she cannot be truly loved without her agency

speaking of. adrien doesnt get to go to school. he follows her around most days, and he smiles when she asks. he never took to the stage, but he's an actor in his own right, in his own way. and he's hers.

and it's not enough. nathalie's love grows lazy as emilie breaks up to cause a scandal. they script it out themselves. nathalie watches adrien out the window. emilie kisses her to turn her gaze back. adrien is always in the garden. she tells him to come inside. she tells him to love her. it used to feel less hollow.

she wishes she could be sure it was all true

she wishes.

she wishes, and nathalie is warmer when they have a mission, so emilie know this is the right thing to do. they know what they have, and what they need, for a wish

emilie transforms, and makes a monster of someone's love

suddenly, the whole world is watching

two girls come out with the cat and ladybug. adrien is safe at home. two girls come out and they're heroes and they're here for her. for her!

nooroo loves her. nooroo says that, at least. she could care less, busy in the glory of her enemies' company, drunk on magic, having the time of her life with a purpose reborn. this is where she is meant to be-- centre stage, on every screen. they set their phones to notify them of her presence. it's always a surprise and they're always quick to know. the news loves to see what she makes. nathalie says she's straying from her goal, if she cares. the people say she's a monster. they just don't understand love

in the end-- in the end the heroes practically offer themselves up to her. there are more of them by then. she wasnt expecting it to be so soon, or she would have dressed for the occasion. would have made a spectacle of it. adrien had been dragged into their circle. they chose a bad miraculous for him. she shouldn't have let him stray from his mother

they're just tired of her. it's been a year and emilie graham de vanily is a recluse. butterfly attacks are constant and emilie barely exists anymore. it was beautiful, though. but they're tired of her. they're sick and they hurt and it's her fault, they say. they're breaking and it's her fault. that's love, isn't it? isn't it? it tastes beautiful. she built this all out of love, do they know that? the feelings just look so heavy and pretty and she's so good at making them hurt.

we're tired, they say, again

she takes their miraculous. she gets to her wish. what did she want to wish for again? love. she wanted love.

she sees gabriel again. it's been too long. she didn't like that love. when it left she had nothing. he was everywhere, and-- he was nowhere. she doesn't think about that often. but it hurt. she didn't like that love

does she want real love? she had a family and one's dead and one's a traitor and one's torn and one's in england and who the fuck knows what happened to the rest of them

the spotlights were good, though. she danced so well. the heroes are all still watching. they want to know what she wants. they're interested.

in her.

she wishes. she wishes for it to never end

so it never does.

[earlgreytea68]

And the thing is, I don't even care if you demonstrate you understand the material. Like, it doesn't make my life better if you can write an essay on x, y, or z. I want you to learn because I want you to learn. Writing an essay is often part of the learning, because part of learning can be communicating, but really, truly, learning is the point. And not learning how to prompt a robot to do the thinking for you, and not even learning so you know how to do whatever career capitalism decides you have to do, just learning because what have we been doing in our species's long quest that has ruined so very much if we also give up ever using these brains we've evolved?

We do things backward in so many ways, but one of the ways is cabining "school" into this limited portion of the very beginning of your life and so many people I talk to are just trying to get it over with so "real life" can begin, as if learning things is a huge waste of time we make everyone go through before the real stuff happens. I wish learning was not seen as a means to an end but as the end itself. I wish we took all these robots we made and used them to free all of us up to just sit around and learn about stuff. I think it would be so cool if we thought of ourselves as beings who learn rather than just...Idk, beings who buy stuff? Idk how we think of ourselves now lol. Anyway. Idk. Learn things. It's cool, in and of itself.

(This, btw, isn't about education itself. Schools have issues, I'm not trying to solve them or address them here. I'm just saying learning is cool. And also, I think learning many things you wouldn't ordinarily do just for yourself is cool. Like, being forced to read and think about things you wouldn't do yourself is a good thing sometimes. Being forced to get outside of your comfort zone of subject areas is a good thing. If we weren't always so stressed about our grading ourselves, I sometimes feel like this would be more evident to us and we'd do it more often, instead of being conditioned to avoid things we can't get an A+ in. I include myself in this.)

[violenteconomics]

FRESHMEN 101 FOR ASPIRING UPPERCLASSMEN

today’s lesson: proper communication and translation 🗣️

azul: greetings! i am your professor, azul ashengrotto! welcome to "freshmen 101 for aspiring upperclassmen" at night raven college! the only class that will you teach how to effectively handle those little brats— I MEAN loveable new faces you see around your dorm!

riddle: today, we will focus on how to properly communicate with your first-years. some of the things they say may be confusing and/or contradictory, so it's important to know how to translate their sentences into coherent language you understand.

vil: we have set up a variety of examples with our fellow co-professors and fellow seniors to guide you along this journey.

^

epel: vil, do you think i’d look better with a tattoo?

vil: translation: i am entering my rebellious phase and also want to ruin my delicate skin with a glorified paint job that i will most definitely regret in the future and will make me wish i had listened to my housewarden more. also, i have no hope of a happy future and will live out my days as a gangster on the streets.

epel: …what?

^

ortho: big brother, can you help me with a cosmetics alteration to my gear?

idia: big brother, i want to be the sparkliest, prettiest, most drop-dead gorgeous, most attractive, most charming, 5-star-reviewed, no notes, darling, glamorous, talented, brilliant, incredible, show-stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, stunning, bewitching, adorbs, graceful, beguiling, smashing, knock-out, irresistible person in the classroom tomorrow.

ortho: yay~! 😀

^

deuce: sorry i was out past curfew, trey… i’m a little tired, so is it okay if i skip brushing my teeth tonight?

trey: translation: i have a secret boyfriend that i don’t want you to know about because he coerces me to engage in illegal underground boxing rings and convinces me that brushing my teeth is for losers. please get involved and maybe call the police and also never let me out of the dorm again until i’ve properly relearned the benefits of proper dental hygiene!

deuce: …huh?

^

sebek: silver, i think… i would like to make some friends with the people in our dorm. could you… mayhaps give me some advice?

silver: translation: i am a strikingly realistic imposter of your actual friend. i do not love nor care for you, and in fact, am very frightened by your presence, so i will gather allies from other places in an elaborate scheme to destroy you, the liege you’ve sworn your life to, your father, and your friend, whom i’ve already killed and whose body i have hidden in the basement. please end me.

sebek: pardon? what— what are you— why are you carrying around a camera— NO! NO NO NO NONONONO SILVER IF I’VE OFFENDED YOU I DEEPLY APOLOGIZE— SILVER PUT THE SWORD DOWN—

^

yuu: everyday, i’m scared that everything i’ve worked so hard to build in this world, all the friends i’ve made… all of it will just— slip through my fingers like sand… kalim? azul? what are your biggest fears?

kalim: translation: wow, things sure have been getting a little upsetti spaghetti around here! let’s throw a huge party in the mostro lounge with food and games and bright lights and elephants and and invite all of our friends to lighten up the atmosphere! the more, the merrier!

azul: translation: and while we’re at it, please don’t forget the mostro lounge’s limited time “part of your world” event, which offers authentic drinks, food, and even little trinkets from all around the world, for 20% off its original price!

yuu: guys pls

^

ace: hey, riddle? i, uh… i need help with smth.

riddle: translation: i have gotten into some very serious trouble and am about to lure you into a death trap that will get us both severely injured in all likelihood, and i am coming to you, specifically, about this, because i know you care deeply for me and couldn’t say no if you honestly thought my life was in danger, and i am going to exploit it for my own ends. what is it, ace?

ace: …ok, u lil bitch i see how it is

^

jack: hey, leona? ruggie? do you… do you love me?

leona: 

ruggie: 

leona: 

ruggie: 

ruggie: translation: give me food!

jack: …would it help if i said it first?

leona: 

ruggie: 

leona: 

ruggie: 

leona: …no, wait— i think maybe he said “give me sliced pears on a plate”... not sure, tho.

ruggie: that does sound right...

jack: oh my seven.

[slaaverin]

I'm in my bed crying over jikook again.

The thing is, I don't even have the proper words to express what I'm feeling.

It's all so..God I don't know. Improbable? Crazy? It's crazy.

You have two humans that have the most pure souls, with impossible high-stakes lives, that somehow found each other and also found the most beautiful love I have ever witnessed in my 32 years of life.

The probability of this happening is almost zero. It shows there are really bigger and smarter things than little us at play in life.

They went through so much, and so much more than any of us will ever be able to imagine, yet they remained pure at heart, with their love growing ever stronger and more potent by the day.

They let us in on everything, and showed us the true depth of their feelings openly (but even so, it's written all over their faces).

They simply care, a lot. The little things, the trips, the quiet moments, all of it, they really do care. It's not for show. It's real.

It's like we're getting a glimpse of something that doesn't belong to us at all. Yet, they are generous enough to let us experience it vicariously through them. Isn't it an act of love on their part? They don't have to do it. It's not even smart or safe or reasonable for them to do it. But they do anyway. Maybe because they wouldn't be able to help it, even if they wanted to?

How weird it is that our love for them is that strong? We've never even met them. Yet we feel for them something more unconditional than what we feel for some people we've actually met. How strange, don't you think? So we cheer on and support and we feel it all. We care too.

And I can't explain how witnessing jikook's love has been wonderful, how it has filled my heart with an immense amount of joy and reverence and beauty. It is a mystery.

Somehow I feel it's not even about them, even if it is, obviously so. It's simply that love. Isn't something most of us miss? Long, crave for? Wish for everybody.

If all the people would be in love like Jimin & Jungkook are, there would be no wars in the world anymore. It would be completely different.

The lack of love produces incredible darkness, and it's only love that can fix everything.

So I think that's why I cherish their love so much. It is so very precious, so very important, in ways they might not even understand. The fact they have such an audience being exposed to their love, feeling all the feelings, it helps the world heal a tiny little.

It's not a small thing. It matters.

If we can all fill our little corner of the universe with that type of love, we would've won all the battles, done what we came here for, and call it a day.

They've gifted us the incredible gift of are you sure, where their love was quiet and peaceful and certain. They've given us the gcf. And Letter. And then there was Rosebowl, and MMA, and Black Swan. A thousand moments. Again and again they've showed us.

Now they are enlisted together, and I think that there's nothing more to add. Nothing to prove. Nothing to show. It is self-evident and we can only smile and be happy for them.

What an incredible journey it has been, full of laughs, of crying. So many tears (of joy).

When they will come out of military, we can say that a chapter of their life will close, and another one will open. Hopefully a even happier one than the one before.

So yeah I've decided to make a rather big edit about it, this first chapter, those 10 years of love.

(And you're not ready with some of the music I chose, it makes you feel ALL THE THINGS, prepare tissues)

Sorry for this post that is going nowhere.

Sometimes I simply need to scream my love for jikook. They truly deserve it.

Aren't they wonderful? Yes. Yes.

Take care lovely jikookers 💜

[yierrem]

dating headcanons - zzzero men edition pt. 2 ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

ft. gn! reader x asaba harumasa, billy kid, and seth lowell ; a follow up to my previous dating hcs (which can be found here) and a response to a request ( ^ω^ ) first post of the year（≧∇≦）i hope you enjoy reading!!

asaba harumasa

very clingy. when you're not together, he'd be texting you random little updates or beg for your attention just for the sake of talking to you if calling momentarily isn't an option. sometimes he tries to use you as an excuse to get out of work, but after he's done it a couple of times, you've become immune to always bending to his whims and suddenly he's whining about how you don't love him anymore.

["wait i'll look at your texts later brb love u ^3^" "so you hate me."]

an avid quality time enjoyer, if i've ever seen one. he's content with lazing around with you or doing mundane tasks that don't require much physical effort. likes cuddling against you when you're just sitting engrossed in doing something with your hands and reading or watching something together.

even though he usually appears and acts lighthearted, deep down, he's genuinely happy with you and the relationship you share. he cherishes every moment you can spend together and wishes it could go on for as long as he lives. you're the person he refers to as family when on one of his much-dreaded doctor appointments.

alongside the nightmares he already has regarding his sickness, he'd have times when he'd wake up in a cold sweat from dreams of losing or leaving you and the people he cares for. thankfully, on the days you sleep over, he has you; he's comforted by the sight of your sleeping figure and clings to you for the rest of the night.

on a lighter note, sharing a bed with this man is probably a chaotic experience on a dreamless night; initially, you'd both fall into slumber comfortably cuddled against each other, but the following morning, one of you would be seconds away from suffocating in a vice grip.

billy kid

loves playing games with you. he's usually competitive when playing against you but when you're both on a team together, he's suddenly the biggest cheerleader there is. if both of you lose, that's totally fine! you'll get it next time. what matters to him is that you had fun together.

deeply appreciates it and enjoys when you match him nerd-for-nerd, even if you don't share a lot of similar interests. you take turns randomly info-dumping about any piece of media or activity you're into and both of you pay genuine attention to whatever the other is talking about. he loves listening to you passionately talk or share anything about any topic because you do the same for him.

adding on to the previous point: both of you make jokes about liking your favorite fictional characters or celebrities more, just to be playfully petty.

["if you had to choose between me or monica, who would you pick?" "...well, yes!" "..." "alright, then. between me and /insert favorite character/--" "that's unimportant."]

after spending so much time with him, you already know which maintenance products he likes for himself or his guns. kind of like how other people know what shampoo or body wash their partner prefers. when you see he's running out and you buy them without telling him, he'll notice and be weeping tears of joy.

if you take a while to open up to him about certain things, he's alright with that and will tell you to take your time or give you the space you need. he's been the same when it comes to sharing his past with other people and understands that some things do take courage to tell.

seth lowell

despite having been in a relationship for a while, he most likely still gets easily flustered from any vaguely flirty quip and intimate gesture that comes from you. you could use this knowledge to your advantage but do have mercy on the poor guy.

[there was one instance where you gave him a quick peck on the lips without giving much thought to it before leaving and all he could do was stay where he was with his brain buffering for a whole minute.]

even though he's somewhat shy about expressing his admiration or appreciation for you and sometimes stumbles through his words when doing so, he's sincere in everything he says and does for you.

you're one of the very few people he trusts with touching his tail and ears. it's come to the point where when you're both just laying together, he wouldn't mind the feeling of your fingers gently rubbing on a certain spot on his ears while you run your fingers through his hair.

he appreciates that you see him for who he is and acknowledge his efforts to get where he is now. your affirmations, whether spoken or unspoken, mean much to him and he feels like he can truly be comfortable when he's around you.

sometimes, he unknowingly acts or does very attractive things and it just blows your mind. he'd steer you by the waist from bumping into things or, if you're shorter, accidentally pin you against a wall/surface when trying to reach for something from a high place because he just wants to help! you should be more careful, you know. but you've already mentally imploded while your sweet, sweet boyfriend remains clueless.

[afanofcats]

it took years to finally get to the point where humanity was ready to join the rest of the intelligent universe, with their ego you would have thought them to have created the concept of intergalactic communications, I mean, they even thought they were alone for the longest time. but all of that put aside, it is always nice to welcome new members. we finally let them into our meetings after years and years of observation, ambassadors, lectures, and education. we needed to get their scientists, both physical and social, up to code. we gave them the run down on how to communicate using the automated universal translators, we tested their health and what types of food they could digest. we held interviews and got to know them. all this aside, the first thing mentioned at the meeting was something they called "OSHA".

"you need to have a code that tells people how to work, its for their own safety"

"why do you need a code for this? is there not enough self preservation and logic within your kind to make those choices independently?"

"well, what about building? cant make sure there are any unsafe working conditions or people cutting corners for the sake of saving time"

"really? you all made it this far as a species without being able to look out for each other and yourselves? you need a book, and code, to tell you how to not make certain choices that could result in a hazardous environment?"

"it is for safety."

I wish I could show you the looks on everyone's faces, how had these people, who had made it this far as a race, not have the logic to not kill themselves or set traps for others? that is what the majority of us failed to understand, most of the intelligent life in the universe thus far had only gotten to the point where they are through working together to preserve the growth and safety of themselves and others. the fact that these people did not have the discipline to not kill each other baffled the court.

it was also wondered if this "OSHA" was some kind of God, they seemed to worship it like one. and these outrageous lengths they want to implement could only be thought of by some madman worshipping some sort of god, so we will do our best to respect their traditions.

it was soon after this meeting that the humans had introduced us to hardhats and orange vests, which are clearly just primitive versions of the hover shields and glow jackets developed centuries ago by the founder of the intergalactic alliance. the fact that they found us before moving past this checkpoint is baffling.

the process of setting up the un-needed "safety measures" often took far longer than the construction itself, and I am not too sure how they expect these ill-fitting hats to stay on our heads in a low to no gravity environment. the humans seem to be proud of themselves for thinking that they have made this place safer by having us fallow their little "OSHA" guidelines. whatever makes them happy, I suppose.

they will need to learn eventually that we already have safety measures, they just are not what they are used to. until we get to that point, we will need to suffer the ill-fitting and unflattering colors of their lord and savior, "OSHA"

One of the largest conditions humanity had for joining the intergalactic council was the implementation of some organization called 'OSHA'

[le-trash-prince]

To be blunt on this topic:

I 👏 do 👏 not 👏 care 👏 if 👏 people 👏 don’t 👏 like 👏 a 👏 show! I don’t care if you don’t share my ship or stan my fave! That is not what we are saying!

What I fucking care about is:

Pretending your subjective opinions are objective truth.

Refusing to meet art on its own terms and insisting that if it doesn’t do what you want it to, it is a failure.

Acting like queer Asian shows should prioritize Western tastes—YES, even if you are a POC. We are still Westerners! We still have Western, English-language speaking privilege across the globe, and it would be nice if we could stop acting like everything should be about what we want. I cannot believe how difficult it is for people to understand this point.

Making broad, sweeping claims on what is and isn’t queer. It is valid if you do not feel seen by a piece of queer media. But that does not make it less queer or less meaningful to other queer people. You can dislike a show without making it into the Death of Queer Art. Again, your opinions and feelings are real, but that does not make them objective truth.

Also! The double standard of “I’ve seen an increasing number of posts on BL tumblr lately” without mentioning what those specifics are just so that you can just make up what stance those people had. But if other people reference multiple posts without linking or tagging anyone, they are being rude and vague posting instead of, I don’t know, airing out their thoughts on their own blog.

People are not going to remember every post they see and bookmark it in case they come up with a response later. Not everything has to be a dialogue! We do not actually owe anyone a conversation.

I have said it before and I will say it again, but the majority of people complaining about holier-than-thou criticism on BL tumblr lately are actual queer creatives who wish people could approach a story on its own terms. Pretending like that makes us capitalists just to make us look absurd is a take and there’s a reason so many people had something to say about it.

[atramenting]

I already posted this on bsky but this is my FoM farmer OC, Lake! Please excuse the fact that the little drawing of him is in almost the same pose as the sprite - I wanted to do a little redraw ^^;

A "Caldosian adventurer" with seemingly nothing in his past worth talking about, Lake comes to Mistria after finding the job posting in a city he was passing through. Having no home of his own, he thinks the offer sounds pretty swell - a house, however small and shabby, in exchange for some basic work? It sounds like a steal, especially after sleeping in the woods with nothing but a ragged tent and pallet most nights.

His original intentions are to come to town, save up whatever he can from his excess profits, and then disappear over the Caldosian border before anyone can find out anything about him. However, the warmhearted nature of the townsfolk winds up drawing him in, and he finds himself genuinely wanting to help restore what's been damaged in the aftermath of the earthquake. When he and Eiland unintentionally restore Caldarus, though it may be to just a bit of his former power, Caldarus offers Lake the ability to perform magic -- something that Lake had often found himself wishing for as a young child.

Against his better judgment, he accepts the boon from his new dragon companion and puts a real effort into shaping up the land he's been given, slowly growing closer to his new Mistrian neighbors. He quickly befriends Hayden when the man finds out he also has a soft spot for small farm animals, as well as Celine, who is more than happy to help him learn some of the finer points of gardening. However, it quickly becomes obvious that, despite technically working for Adeline, Lake is trying to avoid interacting with the town's nobility.

Gee, Adeline and Eiland think, he must be shy, being the newest face in town! Surely he's just nervous because he's not used to interacting with nobles! And so they make it their goal to make Lake realize that, despite their finery and manner, their parents are quite unlike many of the stuck-up vassals to the throne! They're just normal people!

What they don't realize, though, is that Lake is a former member of a group of... well, the sort of people that don't interact with polite society. Orphaned as a young child, he was taken in by the thieves who murdered his parents -- though he didn't know that part -- and branded as a part of their guild. At age twelve, he was given the chance to choose between two paths: either continue being the equivalent of servant, doomed to a life tending his overseers' livestock and gardens, or... become one of them.

He worked as a member of the thieves' guild for some time, until one fateful day. At age twenty-two, he was scoping out a market stall when a young lord happened to pass by and see the brand on his inner wrist. The man flew into a frenzy, accusing Lake of any number of crimes, exposing him there for what he was -- a lowly thief, one of the very group that had plagued the city for ages. Lake tried to explain that he had no idea what the man was talking about, and truthfully, for he had only come to Aldaria that week -- but he was soon set upon by not only the man's armed guards, but a furious swarm of marketgoers and stallkeepers as well.

At the end of a harrowing chase, Lake thought he had escaped, only to come face-to-face with the lord who had hurled those accusations his way. Beaten and exhausted, Lake tried to reason with him, but the man revealed the reason for his hatred - "My father died because of your sort!"

Lake looked down at that brand on his wrist, and something like understanding washed over him. He would always be one of the crooks who had taken lives and livelihoods -- there was no way talking like this was going to work. As he tried, the lord advanced on him, brandishing his sword -- and so Lake took out his own, and ended the man's life to earn his freedom.

The Caldosian border was on lockdown, any number of kingsmen could be searching for him, and so Lake turned to the nearest outpost -- only to be shunned for such a blatant crime, for having drawn attention to the guild with such a brazen murder. He fled for his life there, too, for the ones he might have considered brothers and sisters were only interested in collecting the bounty now on his head.

With nowhere to go, Lake ran and ran until he collapsed. He awoke in a small cabin in the woods, where he met the man who had saved him - a man who knew exactly who he was, and who still wanted to hear his side of the story. After explaining himself, Lake assumed he would get dragged off to the nearest town to be jailed and hanged, but instead the stranger just asked him -- "How does life as an adventurer sound?"

With the mark on his wrist obscured by a new tattoo, and a new identity pieced together for him by an experienced explorer, Lake began taking work through the Aldarian Adventurer's Guild, where he eventually earned enough merit to make a meager living for himself. However, he always stayed on the move -- afraid that if he stayed anywhere long enough for someone to recognize him, to find an old wanted poster and notice the resemblance or the holes in his backstory, that his new life of freedom would be taken from him.

And so it went, until Lake came to Mistria, where the baron's son took a particular interest in him for some unknown reason. And where he, as fate would have it, fell head over heels for Eiland in turn, while also trying to master dragon magic and keep his chickens and rabbits from eating his entire garden. Oh, and also, some other political drama as Mistria begins rising through the rankings, and the king's vassals start getting very suspicious and jealous of what's going on with all of that.

Fun facts: -Lake is vegetarian. He had to slaughter many of the animals he raised during his time with the thieves' guild, and it broke his heart every time. He has tons of pets now -- not livestock. He will correct anyone who makes that mistake.

-He loves fruits, and consequently, any sort of juice, sweet, drink, or dessert made out of them. He doesn't have a favorite, as it would be a tie between far too many! The fact that he can grow them all now is an absolute joy -- and the ones that only grow in the wild? He frequently goes foraging for them, whether to eat straight from the bush or to preserve for later.

-He likes keeping fish. They're pretty and relaxing to watch, so he often finds himself seated in front of an aquarium, lost in thought.

-He is a little bit shy, but also a good actor. He finds himself overwhelmed frequently when it comes to talking shop with Hayden, despite the man's friendly nature. As such, it's also super easy to convince him to do anything, because he'll just freeze up and agree to whatever it is a person is suggesting. He finds himself in a lot of situations like this, wishing he hadn't offered to help, and yet unwilling to go back on his word. (He's a good person now, he keeps telling himself.)

-He's a natural with the sword. He tries to avoid violence where possible, but there's also a part of him deep down that is really proud of the talent. He keeps this to himself for sure. He also wears his sword everywhere in Mistria -- something that's odd to the townspeople, but quickly gets filed as just a quirk.

-Lake and Eiland begin forming their friendship when it comes out that Lake is almost entirely uneducated. He can read and write, sure, and he's up to date on modern events -- but history? It's fascinating, but he feels like an idiot for not knowing even the most basic facts. Eiland loves teaching people, especially when it focuses on his own interests, and so they wind up spending a lot of time together.

-Lake doesn't get along well with Juniper or March. He doesn't trust whatever it is that Juniper is up to -- or the fact that she can sense Caldarus's magic on him. With March, they learn to tolerate each other, but Lake has really strong feelings on people who are assholes, undoubtedly from dealing with that sort quite a bit during his upbringing. For the sake of keeping the peace, though, Lake bites his tongue. Most of the time.

-Aside from Hayden and Celine, his closest neighbors, Lake also finds himself getting along well with Ryis and Olric. He also respects Valen a lot, but is fairly intimidated by her.

-He loves swooshy cloaks/capes and big hats. These become a part of his usual attire after be begins working for the Adventurer's Guild, and only ever go away when the situation calls for it.

-He's a little bit vain about his hair. He was never able to grow it long until he became an adventurer, so he's been working diligently to keep it healthy ever since.

-He pierced his own ears when he was fifteen and just a little bit edgy. He likes to mix it up between studs and hoops, but nothing too dangly, or it gets caught in his hair.

-He cannot control his magic very well. He often finds himself using the spells Caldarus has taught him when he doesn't want to be using them. All it takes is for him to close his eyes and breathe in the scent of dew upon the morning grass, to feel that sense of peace and relaxation he's never gotten before coming here --- and suddenly his plants have doubled in height, and so have all the weeds in a 200m radius, making more work for himself.

-He also causes a major thunderstorm on the night of the Star Festival, when Eiland takes his hand and offers to walk him home after their date. The two of them basically slide down the mountain in the mud, laughing the entire way.

[goldsbitch]

Twelve grapes

chapter 1 -he'll be passionate...

Max is stuck at an uneventful party, a spell so bad only Charles can break it. Rage meets awkward.

words: 3k warning: alcohol mentioned, other than that nothing

Max shifts in his chair for what feels like the fiftieth time. He wishes he could be anywhere else in the world than this random apartment in Monaco, stuck in pointless conversations with useless people.

He has no idea who decided this evening’s gathering was a good idea. A comical event "F2 and F3 drivers dinner" - cheap copy of the thing F1 does. Surely they'd invited more people who were actual F1 drivers, like himself, but nobody else showed up. Max vows not to make this mistake ever again.

His mom wants him to make some friends at the paddock ("You never know when you're gonna need a friendly face"), his father would probably be the happiest if he managed to blow up the whole room ("You can't trust anyone, Max. Crush them before they crush you"). It was only recently that his mom started to have inputs into how he approached the world of racing. Confusing times. But Max knows his father is right. He isn't here to make friends.

He doesn't speak much, but he also does not listen to the conversation other are involved in.

Topics involved so far: models of Monte Carlo every team they are "talking to and it's looking promising" the latest trick their trainer taught them rent and real state prices going up (most of these people are teenagers struggling with budgets for their racing, so this was a particularly baffling topic for Max to wrap his head around)

They are all stupid. Little boys who care too much for the glam, and not enough for the work. Two of them already earned a middle finger from Max when they asked him to recommend them to F1 teams. Pathetic. He gets involved in slightly more interesting debate about the set up of F2 engines for the next seasons. Ideas to be pitched for approval. But his inputs are washed over, because one quickly gets used to having thirty engineers around all the time and where the limits of the lesser championships lie.

He knows well enough he is an anomaly. However condescending it might have sounded, nobody in that room put as much into racing as he had. It feels like visiting a kindergarten as a proud fourth grader.

The mood shifts immediately as the one and only, Charles Leclerc, waltzes in. Forever smiling, albeit a bit shyly at first. Max watches him, as he goes and makes rounds. Greats everyone, hands out smiles, like it isn't an absolute dread to spend time in the presence of these people. Max figures Charles doesn't know that he already knows. He wasn't expecting him to show up at all, when he didn't see him in the room already upon his own arrival. God boy Charles, always first everywhere, ever so polite. Where he finds the energy to do, Max will never understand. Max is at least clear about who he is. You'll get the same person on and off track. The polar opposite of whatever game the Monegasque is playing. Menace on track, annoyingly sweet in real life.

Charles is soon to be announced as an F1 driver. Christian Horner makes sure to have all the intel. One of the advice Max actually took to heart from him. Max is sure nobody in this room has any idea. Perhaps not even Charles's best friends. He feels a weird sense of pride, knowing something other people don't. Normally, he'd just pass Charles by and try to ignore him, perhaps more than he would with other people. Out of all those drivers, he was the one that Max somewhat feared. Little too fast, bit reckless and not afraid to send it in. They'd already had their fair share of battles and now he would join on the grid once again. Max had a hard time figuring out how he felt about that. This night, he felt a desperate need to let Charles know that he knows. But, he's never going to be the one approaching Charles. Even if that means not talking to him at all. Max is a proud young man. Leclerc is too, but in a different way.

"Well, look who we have here, the young talent himself," Charles greets Max with slightly sour and sarcastic undertone. Max takes it as a compliment, happy to be speared of the fake pleasantries.

He nods back at him. "Charles." Max doesn't know what else to say. The boy should be glad he used his first name anyway. Soon, they'll be rivals again. The idea of beating him on track again is thrilling.

To his surprise, Charles sits down on the empty chair next to him. "I see you got a haircut," he proclaims casually and observes Max's head a little too much to his liking. He can't help himself but run his fingers on the short pointy hairs on the side of his head. Charles chuckles and somehow manages to sip on a drink in the most condescending way known to man. "It looks ugly. I'll give you my mother's number, she'll take you in with a discount."

Max couldn't give two shits about what Leclerc thinks. He might as well call him a frog, he'll still be a better racer. And that's the only thing that matters. He spends a little too long on crafting a response.

"I imagine you'll need one soon, something more aerodynamic," he blurbs out just before Leclerc's smug breaks his face. Max is proud he did not stutter. Baby steps.

He must have understood what he's hinting at, so clumsily, but chooses not to play along. "I don't need it, I look fabulous, as always," he says and dramatically runs fingers through his hair.

"If you say so. Can't wait until we test it out on a track," Max replies and sips his beer, so that he has something to do with his hands.

Both of them know, that there will be no real fight next year. Charles will be in Sauber, or as it's often referred to - shitbox. Max is in one of the top teams. Charles stays silent for few moments, perhaps taking it in.

"Nobody knows yet. How do you know?" he asks finally, breaking his façade. Not really ready to reveal his sources, he panics and winks at the brown haired man. He follows this up by a loud gulp and a wish for this interaction to be over as soon as possible. His goal is achieved and anything beyond this point is a risky situation.

With all the audacity of the world, Charles pauses for a mere second and then laughs. "Okay, okay. I understand. You'd have to kill me if you tell me."

"Something like that," Max responds and remembers back those days when he thought that the F1 paddock was a serious place and not a literal sieve, where nothing could stay a secret for a long time. For some reason, he enjoys the fact he knows more than Leclerc. For now at least.

"I've just come back from the first photoshoot with Sauber," Charles whispers and out of nowhere whips out his phone, leans in and starts showing Max some pictures on his phone. Baffled Max does not know what do with Leclerc going so deep into his personal space. His first reaction is to pull away and shove his back.

"Mate, I don't care about your photos," he says a little too loudly and defensively. Few people glance at them, but this incident is not as attention-grabbing as one would expect. Charles, retreats and does his best to hide hints of embarrassment.

Max would never admit that it makes him feel bad. Never. "I am more interested in your test times." This time he is the one to lean in closer. Only so that others don't hear him, of course.

Charles's confidence bounces back, him seemingly recovering to his usual cocky level pretty quickly. Max remembers how great it felt when he first got his seat in F1. To be honest, he finds it surprising Charles isn't dancing on the table.

"You know I would never tell you that," he replies and only now is Max noticing that Charles is dressed in the ugly colors of his new team. He almost asks him if that is on purpose.

"Shame. Racing is the main thing. Nothing else is important to me," he hints back at the photos. Charles shoots back without missing a beat.

"Interesting. I always dreamed of being a model and I decided to go the most unconventional and impractical way," he snaps sarcastically. He stays still for a moment and then breaks into a smile. "See you on track, Verstappen," he says quietly, pats him on his shoulder, gets up and walks away to continue his rounds around the room.

Max sits and wonders why this was the most vexing interaction he had this whole evening.

It's like Leclerc has some sort of light following him everywhere he goes. Max can't help, but be hyperaware of where he is, almost all the time. He soon gets real tired of just sitting around, looking unapproachable, and decides to change his strategy for the evening. And he tries. He really does. It's looking better, he is tuning into his more chatty and fun part of personality.

That is until one of the useless F2 rookies decides to "accidentally" spill a drink on him. Quickly back where he started, annoyed Max is drying his t-shirt, dark colored stain unwilling to go away. He does not know when it happens, but suddenly, Charles is next to him once again.

"You’ve really warmed up to this party, haven’t you?" he observes Max, who is frantically trying to dry his t-shirt. It's not like he cares about clothes. He just wants to go home. The decision to finish this drink, end the conversation and finally get away is made fast.

"I'm not here to make friends, Charles," he says, shooting arrows at the guy from Sweden, who ruined his t-shirt, and has moved on on nagging someone else, finally.

Charles positively laughs. "Oh, good thing. You're terrible at it."

Should Max punch him? Is that an appropriate response? Out of nowhere, Charles, reaches for Max's hand and stops his frantic movements.

"Screw this, some people are gonna go and play darts," he hints over to the other side of the room. "Come join. You good at it?"

It comes as a natural reflex to say it. "Better than you."

Charles puts his hand on Max's bicep, making him tense up a bit. "Glad to hear that, come on then," he says as he starts dragging him away.

Max decides not to waste energy on protesting. One game and then he's gone.

Two other people are already waiting, with spare darts in their hands.

"Oh good, you found an interesting opponent," comes from one of them. Max knows him, Ralph from somewhere, with some surname and most importantly, driver in F2. The second guy, he does not know, nor does he care about getting to know him. He hears the name and immediately forgets it. He tries to avoid staring at Charles, who is working the room again, having the two guys glued at him from the moment they'd showed up. He throws around light-hearted jokes and angelic smiles. While Max is standing next to him, big stain on his chest and gripping a bottle of beer so tightly his fingers are almost numb.

"Are we here to play or is this a chat room?" he blurts out, mainly just to join the conversation really. He is unable to find any other way how apart from snarky comments.

Max watches Charles pick up a dart, his movements annoyingly casual, like this is just another photo op.

"You sure you’ve done this before?" Max mutters, arms crossed.

Charles grins. "I’m a natural at everything." He lines up the shot, pausing dramatically. "Want to make it interesting?"

Max narrows his eyes. "What did you have in mind?"

"Loser buys drinks at the next Monaco party."

"Boring," he reacts with obvious disappointment.

"Fine, what about this. The ultimate loser has to compliment the winner, here, in front of everyone. How about that?" suggests Ralph and something about the way how he pronounced the word champion makes Max twitch. It just sounds wrong.

"Fine," says Charles before anyone has time to object and throws his first dart, only just missing the bullseye. He smirks. "Not bad for a warm-up."

Max steps up, his expression unreadable. His throw hits closer to the center, and he allows himself a small, smug smile.

"Beginner’s luck," Charles says, reaching for another dart, almost forgetting there are other people involved in their game.

As the game progresses, it becomes painfully obvious that Ralph missed his calling and should have competed in darts professionally, instead of racing. And that the other guy is about as bad as one can get in darts. Max only feels challenged by Charles, in fact, he does not care how the other two do. Him and Charles are only few point from each other, every turn the other one leading.

It is frustrating to end up third, but it stings to end up behind Charles. The angelic man does not seem bothered by losing as he grins at Max when the last round is finished. They ignore the scene happening next to them, Ralph teasing the other guy and gathering a crowd to hear his compliment.

"You know, in a few years, maybe months, I’ll be your biggest problem on the grid," Max hears Charles whisper, still riding the high of beating him.

Bickering with Charles comes naturally to the Dutch driver. "Maybe once you get to drive a car that actually has all eight gears."

"Once I do, that's when you'll really need to start trying." Max knows he is right and it makes his throat tight.

Charles seems to be genuinely interest in the scene happening in front of them and Max misses the joke everyone suddenly laughs to.

"So tell me, if you had to compliment me, what would you say?" he hears Charles once again.

Max glares at him with thinly veiled ridicule before rolling his eyes.

Charles is relentless. "Come on, you'll tell me mine and I'll tell you yours..."

It is an intriguing thought, to know what this pseudo-French model-driver thinks of him. It's not like this wasn't the main thing occupying Max's brain the whole game - what in hell would he say to Charles anyway? How he admires his dedication? How nonchalantly he seems to deal with anything thrown at him? The kindness that fuels him? In the end, when he saw himself almost losing the game, he decided against anything that might embarrass himself. Playing it safe.

"You have a nice face," he blunts out, using his tone to make it sound as casual as possible. It still makes his stomach turn. He avoids looking at Charles, in order to keep his composure.

Charles chuckles, once again. "Ah, come on. That's boring. True! But boring," he shakes his head, further giving away his disapproval.

Max sighs. There is never a calm moment with this man. "Fine, what about you? What's your genius compliment?"

The man standing next to him, close enough so that nobody else hears them, stares into the crowd of people. After few moments of scanning them, he finally speaks.

"One thing that I can't shake...I think people don't give you enough credit. Everyone talks about your talent, how your dad pushed you to the limit, but I’ve seen how hard you work—like, really work. Most of us, we dream about F1, but you… you live it. You're hard on yourself, but in a weird productive way. It’s impressive. And lonely I imagine."

His words ring in Max's ears, like a song that is too loud. The fact Charles casually throws his dad into the conversation, as if that wasn't a total dealbreaker for him. The fact he dares to brush on the one feeling Max has had push down for months now.

"Soon you won't have to imagine," he says through gritted teeth, because he does not know how to deal with a compliment that actually reaches something within him.

There is a silence for a moment, Max looking for anything to fill it with, anything that would wash away the reminder of the ever-present loneliness he feels everyday. But, for second time today, Charles beats him.

"I'm nervous, Max. Excited, of course. But what, if I fuck it up, that's it. Years of work, not only mine, down the drain. I'm just...I don't know, have you ever felt like that?"

Max, already on edge, does not understand why is Charles filling him up with information he might use against him. Is he completely stupid? They are rivals. And they are going to be for a long time, Max is sure of that, more than anything. Unlike the soon-to-be-rookie driver in front of him, Max calculates his response. No matter how true and relatable he finds everything that Charles is saying. Of course he knows what that feels like. He does not have it in his heart to reveal that this fear does not go away with time. There are two things he decides to tell him. Giving out as much sincere advice as his brain allows him.

"Firstly. Don't ever tell any other driver, especially your teammate that. They will, and trust me, use it against you. Clear on that?" he scolds him like a school boy, but tries to keep it kind. Not like when his father was giving out advice. Charles seems to understand, biting his cheek nervously.

"Are you going to do that?" he asks without blinking.

Max does not have to think twice. Almost finds it insulting that Charles would suggest that. "No. I can beat you on track, I don't need politics."

This answer seems to satisfy Charles. "Deal," he says, implying he is not going to lower to that himself when he has the chance one day. Max finds it hilarious that he would immediately think of that. But also a bit calming. If there is one thing he hates about F1, it's the gray morality behind closed doors.

He continues, before it gets awkward. "Secondly. No, I don't think that. I am good, really good. Doubting myself will not lead to winning."

If there ever was a time Max has told a big, fat lie, it was this one. There are days where he walks around the factory, thinking they'd hired him by accident. Moments, when he fucks up so bad, he actually fears Helmut Marko's disappointed sighs. But he has to defend from Charles, who seems to somehow see through him more than other people. There is a glint in Charles's eyes, a strange spark max does not how to decipher.

"Got it" Charles finished their debate, his unreadable expression staying on. Right after he speaks, some random guy decides to interrupt their conversation. Max takes this as an opportunity to finally call it a day. He leaves with a stained shirt and a cloudy mind.

chapter 2