Every Time I Hear A Country Song I Just Become A Red-blooded Southern American Who Loves His Freedom,

eagerly awaiting the reveal of what political science 101 concept is she going to stop the plot to teach middle schoolers about. we got bread and circuses we got the extended work on thomas hobbes my money is on haymitch starting this book as an objectivist and having to unlearn that in the face of true struggle

I don't know if it's the same in every country, but I know that in France you have to be of a certain weight (more than 50kg) to be able to donate blood.

So I guess since I'm a small human (like pocket-sized, I am considered the smallest person of my class, and even have a title because of that, a not so glorious one but it's just part of my school's funny traditions anyway), I can't donate blood, or I could if I eat before !

Very abbreviated concept, but please consider the classic “Charles gets dosed with a love potion” - but the person the potion latches onto isn’t Edwin, it’s an amateur potioneer with a crush on him and no respect for consent. And it works, fully, Charles is madly in love, sobbing and composing sonnets and proclaiming everlasting devotion and all the rest. He tries to stay with Edwin, but the draw gets too strong as the potion takes hold, and he runs off into the night to meet her.

And then, a few days later, Edwin gets to them, and tries to rescue Charles starting with taking down the potioneer, and the potioneer commands Charles to protect her from Edwin. And Charles freezes, and stares at them both. And then, face covered in tears, slurring apologies, he knocks the potioneer out from behind.

Edwin gives him the antidote, and his eyes slowly clear, coming into sharp focus on Edwin.

“Charles? Are you alright? How do you feel?”

Charles keeps staring, for a bit, eyes fully focused now but brow furrowed, and Edwin gets more concerned, if possible.

“I… I think I feel… I think. No. I don’t think, I’m quite sure. I love you, Edwin. Like, the way you love me. I’m in love with you.”

Edwin lets out a breath like he’s been hit. “Oh.”

He looks back at Charles, hands moving spasmodically through the air, reaching towards Charles and then back again. “I’m so sorry, Charles. I must have failed with the antidote, it must have altered the parameters of the potion instead of ending the effects, I - just give me an hour, I’ll find out went wrong and remedy it, I promise. Don’t worry, I’ll fix it, just - “

Charles surges forward and grabs Edwin’s erratic hands from the air. “No, that’s not what I’m saying! I’m saying - I’m saying that even when the potion was working, and I was madly in love with that bint, I still loved you more. I had to go with her, I couldn’t stop myself, but I still loved you more. And I always have, Edwin, the whole - the whole drunken giddiness or whatever that it did to me, the obsession, it’s nothing to what I’ve always felt for you, I love you so much - so much bigger - than that potion. I love you, Edwin.”

And Edwin looks at him, again, still, eyes wide, hands held clutched in Charles’s, and speaks again, and this time it sounds like a breath let out after having been held for decades. “Oh.”

Practicing PDA

If you never debated with a stranger about the political states of the world during a party, you haven't partied enough.

Me, hopefully whispering in the ears of some fanfic writers: “portrait of a lady on fire/dead boy detectives AU”

Just went to a party organised by my university (on the streets) and alcohol and people are two of my favourite things.

just finished arcane. i'm going to need three days to process.

Day 7 Prompt Free Day

Based on the fic Love for Hire