#gene looks like he’s seen the meaning of life

[moonshadowslament]

SINGER LOOKS LIKE AN EGG

#kiss band #paul stanley #gene simmons #eric singer #tommy thayer #the starchild #the demon #the spaceman #the catman #kiss army #kissblr #yes i’m making this my banner #gene looks like he’s seen the meaning of life

[gilbirda]

The Wonderous Beauty of the Statuesque Scarlet

Jazz knew she was tall. It wasn't like it affected her life or anything (sarcasm). It wasn't like she didn't end dates early because the dude asked her if it was really necessary for her to wear heels. Yes, she was tall. And strong. On top of that, she had duties as Ghost Princess, so finding a partner was not easy for her. Or so she thought until a guy just her type bumps into her and completely bluescreens.

[Read on AO3][Read on FF]

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Jazz knew she was tall.

Even when she was in the waiting line of, let’s say, the bank and an old lady commented “wow you are tall!”; even when a date ended early because the guy kept asking why she had to wear heels if she was already tall; even when Danny threatened to kick her shins complaining about her inheriting their dad’s genes.

Yes. She was well aware she was very tall.

Thank you very much for pointing it out.

She was happy with her height, now — she had accepted that kids would look at her in awe and comment on her height, and that some would ask if she was an Amazon. And you know what? She embraced it now. Yes, she was tall, and big, and her biceps were noticeable — but that wasn’t because she was an Amazon, but because of all the training and the fighting that being the older sister of the King of the Ghosts entailed.

Not that she could say that out loud.

The thing is she was used to people stopping and staring at her, craning their necks and lifting an eyebrow, looking back down to check if suddenly the flat shoes she was wearing had magically turned into impossible high heels that explained her height.

What she wasn’t used to, though, was making a man completely bluescreen.

“Oops, sorry.” She quickly rushed to grab the dude’s arm when he stumbled after colliding with her.

“Uh…”

“I should have seen where I was going, sorry.”

He just kept looking up at her, eyes wide, body frozen in place. There wasn’t a single coherent thought behind those blue eyes. She would know, she was a psychologist.

“Are you alright?”

“Huh?”

She bit her lip, wondering what to do. This had never happened to her before.

“I… uh, I’m fine.” He finally blinked and came back to his body. She didn’t miss his eyes roaming towards her naked arms, and the bracelets on her wrists, official Wonder Woman merchandise.

“Ok. Then I should just—”

“Do you like coffee?”

She blinked. He blinked, slowly realizing what he said. His cheeks tinted a bit red in embarrassment.

“I’m more of a tea gal.” Jazz giggled, enjoying this maybe way too much. He was cute all flustered. It was a nice change from all the bullshit she got from men all the time.

“Do you want to— uh, I mean.” He breathed in, breathed out, gathering his thoughts. “What I want to say is, do you want to go for coffee — or tea! — with me?”

“Like, right now?”

She looked around. They were right in front of a coffee shop. He had been on his way in when she accidentally body slammed him.

“No! No. Not right now.” He looked away back at one of the tables set up on the street. Jazz turned to look as well, trying to see what he was looking at. “Maybe some other time?”

It felt nice being hit on like this. Refreshing.

Also, it helped that he was cute, and handsome in a bad boy way, with a leather jacket and combat boots. She wasn’t scared to admit to herself that she had a type and he checked a lot of boxes in her list.

“I would love to!”

She quickly searched in her purse for some paper — an old restaurant ticket — and a pen and wrote her number and her name, with a little smiley face.

“Here,” she grabbed his hand and put the paper with her number in it, closing his fingers around the ticket, just in case. Her hands were usually cold, a side effect of her liminality, but she hoped he assumed it was because of the weather. “I have to go, but text me soon!”

He smiled back at her, and Jazz knew she was a goner. He had this boyish crooked smile with a hint of a dimple.

She hoped he texted her back, once the awe of her height had passed.

***

“So…”

“Shut up.”

“I mean—”

“I said shut up, Dickhead.”

“She’s cute.”

Jason growled, his hands fiddling with the piece of paper with a phone number in it. He had to text her. Soon. If he waited then she would get the wrong idea that he wasn’t interested and he was very interested—

“She’s tall, huh?” His brother kept going, unprompted. “Did you see those muscles? I bet she could snap me in half. Hell, she could snap you in half.”

Yes. He had seen those arms. He had imagined them around him already.

“What are you waiting for? Text her!”

“We have a case to look over, though.” He tried to put the paper with the phone number in his jacket, but Dick was quicker and stole it from his hands.

“Jasmine. It’s a pretty name.” He hummed, considering. “Jasmine and Jason. It has a nice ring to it. Also both names start with J, funny coincidence, don’t you— Jay? What’s wrong?”

Jason had stopped listening, his mind going back to the conversation with her. He had been ridiculous and messed up everything; but did he really mess up something so simple?

“I forgot to tell her my name.”

Dick’s eyebrows went to his hairline, his lips stretching in a big smile. “That bad, huh?”

“Shut your mouth, Grayson.”

His reaction only made his brother’s smile get bigger, if that was physically possible. He placed his elbows on the table and rested his head on his open palms.

“Could this be love at first sight?”

“You know that doesn’t exist—”

“You are now living in a Hallmark movie, Jay.” Dick sighed dramatically. “So romantic.”

Jason breathed slowly, controlling his thoughts. If he got riled up by the teasing, he would only get even more teased and then the conversation would go nowhere useful. They had to compare notes for a case, it was kind of the whole point of meeting up with his brother, and both had things to do after this.

Jason thought the whole thing could have been an email; but again, if Dick hadn’t insisted on meeting at the coffee place because it was nice outside, he wouldn’t have gotten the phone number of the prettiest girl he had the pleasure of stumbling into.

“I’m living vicariously through you, just so you know.”

“Fuck off, Dickhead,” Jason snatched back the paper with the number and checked that it was still in one piece and the numbers hadn’t been smudged by his brother. It was fine. Even the cute smiley face drawing next to “Jasmine” was intact. “Let’s get to work.”

“I would, but someone forgot to get me my coffee~”

Oh shit.

Really?

Did he really forget to order their drinks? The one thing he had walked away from the table for?

Jason let his head fall onto the table, ignoring the laughs and giggles coming from his brother.

***

>>Hey.

>>Um

>>I'm Jason, the guy from the coffee shop?

>>Sorry for taking so long to text, I had stuff to do

>>Anyway, what do you think about next friday around 5?

>>You name the place

Jazz couldn’t help but smile down at her phone, reading back on the conversation with Jason.

She appreciated that he let her choose the meeting place, which was a good sign. After suggesting a nice coffee place that worked as a library as well, he commented he loved that place too and asked her if she had taken a book from there.

Turns out he loved books too, and didn’t shy away from any genre of literature — from classics to modern trashy romance.

His favorite author was Jane Austen. He tried not to geek too much, but after sending her a photo of his first edition Pride & Prejudice, that had a lot of sticky notes and his own annotations, she knew he was a big Austen nerd.

The contrast was more shocking when he turned up with a biker leather jacket, a white shirt, jeans and the same combat boots. He was combing back his flattened curls, complaining about parking in Gotham and that he hoped he didn’t make her wait too long.

She had to wait, but only because she arrived fifteen minutes earlier than the meeting time.

Not that she would tell him.

Jazz felt her mind become fuzzy as she watched him smile that crooked smile again, complimenting her carefully put together outfit — shut up Danny, she wasn’t trying to impress anybody — and the braid she spent so long trying to get right, undoing and redoing it.

“I have a sister that likes braiding her hair, and a friend of the family that usually comes over as well. They always complain when I don’t do it right.”

“Did they teach you how to braid?”

He chuckled, taking a sip of his latte. “Actually, funny enough, my little brother taught all of us. His mother let him do her hair and made him practice until he got it right.”

Jazz had a pinch in her chest like every time loving mothers were mentioned. “That’s nice,” her voice betrayed nothing as she looked down at her hands cupping her tea. “I tried to teach my little brother, but he didn’t have much interest.”

“Too girly for him?” He lifted an eyebrow, leaning in with a tiny smile so she knew he was joking.

She appreciated the change in topic, and she liked the opportunity to talk about Danny. “Nah. I mean, he had a ‘ugh, girls suck’ phase and stuff, but fortunately it didn’t last long.” Because then he had to become a superhero, but she couldn’t exactly say that.

Both laughed a little before a comfortable silence settled in their table. A few times their eyes met over the lids of their cups, making Jazz blush and look away.

“So… have you read anything interesting lately?”

From then on the conversation barely stopped. Jazz had never talked that much before, at least not about her favorite books and why she liked them. Jason listened, actually listened to what she said and added his own comments and corrections, no matter what she threw at him, showing he was also interested in the same things.

He talked as well, mentioning his own first edition collection and how his father let him have a private library with all the books he wanted. He talked around some topics, like his childhood or stuff about his father, but she didn’t want to pry. It didn’t feel shady, more like… it felt familiar, not wanting to bring up painful memories. She could understand that.

They asked for more coffee and more tea, and those chocolate chip cookies that looked delicious, talking and debating about the pros and cons of reading on a kindle or paperback.

The sun was low by the time they finished their drinks and the cookies, and neither really wanted to go home just yet. Jazz’s stomach grumbled. She was so hungry and the cookies only helped to awaken her stomach.

“Wanna… go have dinner?”

She looked up at him, blushing a little. “A coffee and a dinner date? You really are the full package.”

His cheeks tinted a bit red, but he didn’t look away. “Would hate to cut the night short when I’m enjoying my conversation with a beautiful lady.”

Jazz felt her cheeks catch fire. Jason had been cute and kind the whole time, but this was the first actual “move” he pulled on her.

And it was working.

She wanted to continue.

At her approval, they paid the bill — split in half, and he didn’t make a fuss about it. Good — and walked back out to the cold night in Gotham.

Jazz shivered a little. Maybe a flowery summer dress wasn’t the best for the night, but she didn’t expect being out so late. Time really flies when you are having fun, huh?

“Not used to Gotham's micro climate?” He commented.

She looked back at him, stopping her hands rubbing her naked arms. She had noticed he liked her arms so maybe the dress didn’t have sleeves. So what.

“How did you know I’m not from around here?”

“It’s obvious you’ve been in the city for a while, but your midwestern accent still stands out.” So he was observant, and had been analyzing her as much as she did him. “Do you want my jacket?”

It was so cliché that she just giggled. “Sure, if you don’t mind.”

Jason took off his jacket and extended it to her. It fit her frankly well! He was a bit shorter than her but he was more built and had wider shoulders, so the jacket sat comfortably on her body and gave her enough room around her arms and, thank the Ancients, around her chest. Maybe she should look around the men's section of the clothing store instead of getting frustrated with women’s clothing that never fit correctly.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile, which he acknowledged with a nod.

Now that he didn’t have the jacket, she could admire how the white shirt he wore left little to the imagination. It wasn’t too tight, but it creased in the right places and it let his muscular arms really shine.

He hit the gym regularly, that was obvious, but he wasn’t obsessed about it. He carried himself with the confidence of someone that knew what they had and didn’t need to make a show to get attention. Still, he carried himself with certain deliberateness — relaxed shoulders, quiet steps, head slightly down.

Jazz was used to Danny employing the same techniques to separate himself from his Phantom persona, to not be noticed just in case someone looked too close.

She was willing to set aside the thought. After all, Jason had been a delight the whole time and she had noticed many green flags in the time they talked. If he wanted to hurt her or if he was involved in shady stuff, she would have known already.

Also, it wasn’t like he could overpower her. She was strong. Stronger than a human, even with his size and probable training.

And Danny always said she needed to live a little. Maybe that meant dating around a bit, get to know new people, sleep with a cute guy—

Wow. That came out of nowhere.

She blushed, realizing she did like this guy. Enough to consider letting her hair loose a little. They were consenting adults, right? If he was interested and she was interested, then why not?

“Where do you want to eat dinner?” He asked as they arrived at his parked bike. And what a bike! She wasn’t an expert in these things, but it looked expensive and well maintained — well loved.

“I chose the coffee place, you choose the dinner place?” She shrugged, and the movement sent a puff of his scent to her nose. He smelled like gunpowder and engine oil.

Jason nodded and opened a side trunk to withdraw the helmets, giving her one. It was crimson red, matching the bike. “Alright, I know a place.”

***

Jazz was beautiful.

From the moment he arrived — finding her sitting at the table, looking at her phone — he understood why so many writers and poets could go on about the beauty of their partners. It would sound cliché, but his mind started comparing her soft looking skin to flower petals, and the pink of her lips—

Stop, Jason.

He knew she was smart and shared some interests with him, but he got the impression she was the shy kind over text and preferred meeting in person. He’d hoped that this date gave him a better insight into her character.

So they talked. For hours.

Honestly he didn’t have ulterior motives for this meeting. If it went well, he was interested in knowing her more, that’s for sure. It had been a while since he just hung out with someone for non-work related issues, and dating wasn’t really one of his priorities; but if this Amazon goddess liked his company as much as he had liked hers so far, he was willing to try.

The restaurant he took her to was cozy and not that well known, but the food was great. When they got there he couldn’t help but notice how she attracted everyone’s gaze, how her height and her beauty were such a beacon of light for the people around her.

She didn’t seem to care, though — her eyes were either fixed on her hands fiddling with the hem of the sleeves of his jacket or on him as she talked about the latest movie she had seen.

They sat down in a relatively secluded corner of the restaurant, the soft light hanging on the wall giving it all a romantic touch that was just perfect for the occasion.

Jazz took off his jacket now that they were indoors, and he lamented not taking a picture of her flowery dress and biker jacket combo. Maybe she would want to wear it again. He hoped so.

Silver lining, now she had her arms uncovered again, letting him — subtly — admire her biceps and her bracelets. She confirmed it was a Wonder Woman official jewelry line, and that she bought it to be funny but now was too committed to the bit.

Dinner was nice as well. After warming up at the café and talking about anything and everything, dinner felt a bit more personal, a bit of a deep insight of themselves.

She talked about her brother a lot. About her passion to become a great psychologist and the steps she had been taking towards her dream. About her parents — albeit she tried not to “be a bummer” and “get all depressed on such a nice date”.

She had a past she wasn’t ready to share, and he respected that, so he only kept his questions about her passion, her work and more stories with her brother.

It was around dessert that the conversation ramped down into more and more silence — not because they didn’t have things to say, but because, at least for him, the way the fairy lights illuminated her face was very distracting.

They shared a chocolate cake slice for dessert. She had a bit of chocolate on the corner of her lips, but she didn’t notice.

He didn’t think about his next move, he just leaned in over the tiny table and kissed the chocolate away. It helped that they had unconsciously gotten closer as they talked.

Her face was flushed when he sat back down on his chair, licking his lips. The cake was good, but her red cheeks looked tastier.

He wanted more.

“Um—”

Maybe she didn’t want more?

Jazz looked a bit lost for a second, her mouth open as she thought of what to say.

“Yeah?” He lifted an eyebrow.

She scrunched her nose, apparently having decided, and this time she leaned over the table, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him into a proper kiss.

Her kiss was timid, like she didn’t want to scare him away or expected him to push her away any moment. When seconds passed and instead of rejecting her, he placed his hand on the base of her head to angle her better, she got braver and bolder, pressing her lips against his with a little more intensity than before.

She wanted him.

“Ahem!” A throat was cleared next to them, breaking the moment.

Jazz jumped back to her seat, her face completely red, looking down at the table like she had done something wrong.

Jason smiled up at the waiter, who was smiling politely but completely insincere. He knew this waiter, they weren’t friends, but Jason knew he had a little brother and that he was a student at Gotham University.

“Is the food to your liking?”

“Very.” He wasn’t talking about the food. The waiter’s eyebrow twitched, but his smile stayed in place. “Can we please get the check?”

“Right away, sir.”

Jason didn’t even look at how much everything was, his eyes glancing back at Jazz’s face and her lips — the way she was biting them, the way her eyes were eating him whole.

The walk back to the bike was quieter, with many stops to kiss and many burning side glances and handholding. He couldn’t get enough of her giggles every time he pulled her down for a quick kiss, or the feel of her hands on his shoulders, her strong arms around him.

Finally they reached the bike, safely parked on a quiet alley. It was late and no one was around, so he pulled her into the shadows for a more proper kiss, letting himself get lost in the taste of chocolate on her tongue.

Jazz was biting her lip when they parted for air, mischief in her eyes, which should have warned him of what she would do next. The world spun for a second as she grabbed him by the shoulders, switching their positions and slamming him against the wall with maybe a bit more strength than was necessary.

A traitorous moan escaped his throat.

“Oh?” She smiled. Of course she heard him.

“Don’t say a word.”

Her smile got wider. “Okay.”

In the heat of the moment she got bolder. She kissed him without any ounce of the shyness she had during their date — she was ravenous, eating him completely, holding him firmly against the brick wall.

He was warm, too warm, and the cold wind was starting to get uncomfortable.

“Do you… wanna continue?”

Jazz nodded, panting. “Your place or mine?”

***

The sun was shining right on her face, and since she was an early riser, no matter her activities last night, she was now wide awake.

That didn’t mean she had to get up from bed just yet. Because she didn’t want to.

Jason was also awake in her arms as they enjoyed the quiet lazy morning, hearing each other breathe, feeling each other’s warmth.

It was quiet in the apartment, a big contrast to the night they spent together. Jazz blushed and nuzzled her face against Jason’s curls in an attempt to hide from the world. She really got carried away, but there was something about him that made it impossible to resist — they only had one date, for Ancients’ sake.

He was so sweet and caring and cute and handsome and very irresistible. She just couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop, and more than once she had to catch herself before she hurt him or did anything that was obviously inhuman. If she slipped, she hoped he forgot about it, too buried under the pleasure and the distracting activities from last night.

Jazz was positive that she had left some scratches and bites on him, and a quick look confirmed that his back and shoulders were—

Wait.

These looked at least a day old, almost completely healed. She knew wounds, she knew how long it took for a human to heal from what she did to him, and this was closer to what she expected from Danny’s partners’ healing factor.

She tried to not freak out, but he noticed her tense up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He turned around, eyes searching to see what was wrong, clearly not buying her shaky voice.

She saw the moment he noticed something was wrong about her, his eyes going down her face and staying on her neck, one hand reaching to touch the skin on her left shoulder. She could still feel the ghost of the bite in that area, a bite that probably had already healed by the morning.

By the way Jason’s eyes went wide, she knew he noticed the inconsistency.

Uh oh.

“What—?”

“I can explain.” He should, too, since he wasn’t normal either. Maybe he wasn’t human?

Not that it would make her less interested, but she was curious.

“Are you a metahuman?”

Jazz made a face. “Technically, no.”

He narrowed his eyes and shuffled away from her, his body tense. “What are you?”

“Something else.” She didn’t want to keep it vague, but she didn’t know who he was or who he could be working for. “And you?”

Jason’s eyes narrowed further at the accusatory tone. Jazz didn’t like how the quiet morning had turned to this, but if her security — and Danny’s — had been compromised, she had to push her feelings for Jason to the side. Danny was more important.

“You targeted me?” He now had a knife. Where did that come from? “Was the whole ‘date’ thing a set up?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

His eyes flashed green for a second. If she blinked, she would have missed it. “Don’t lie—”

“Wait.”

“What?”

Jazz lunged in, ignoring the very real and very sharp knife Jason had in his hands. If he stabbed her it would heal in a minute.

She placed her hands on his face, focusing, trying to see in the blue if the green would manifest again. She ignored him as he started to protest — vaguely registering that he put the knife away — humming in thought. Just to test, she let her core send a ping, a small wave of energy, only meant to say ‘hello’ to nearby ectoentities.

Jason somehow answered back, his eyes becoming green for a second.

“— the actual fuck is going on?”

Jazz blinked and came back to the situation, finally noticing she was almost straddling the man, her hands gently but firmly cradling his head. And she was still naked.

“You died.”

Jason’s cheeks had been slightly tinted pink, but now he was white as a sheet.

“How—”

“We’re the same,” Jazz made a face, “technically. I haven’t died, yet, but I do have one foot in the grave so to speak.”

“And you think we’re the same because…” He wasn’t believing her fully, but just enough to not pick up the knife again.

“Your eyes, they do this.”

She let her power flow freely, not needing to hide her inhumanity anymore. She saw the moment he understood, because his tense body relaxed and basked in her presence, her emotions projecting the calm and slight joy at finding someone like her.

His eyes swirled green in response to hers.

“I… I don’t—” he tried to speak through the stupor, “I’ve never—”

“You didn’t know?” About liminality, about ghosts, about people like her.

He licked his lips, blinking to refocus. “What are you?”

He really didn’t know. Someone would pay for letting him wander alone without guidance.

“I am Jasmine Nightingale, a liminal human.” His eyebrows went to his hairline. “I was born human but events led to me becoming deeply acquainted with the dead and everything in between. Like you.”

Maybe it was the influence of her aura still filling the room, or her serene voice, but he believed her.

“So you approached me—”

She hated that he looked hurt at the thought.

“I didn’t target you. I didn’t know you were like me until just now — I usually seal my liminality when I’m in the living world.” One of her hands moved to grab the white streak that now looked so obviously inhuman. “I should have known,” she chuckled, “the only good guy I manage to have a decent date with is not completely human.”

He frowned at her comment, making her freeze. Jazz quickly recoiled and withdrew her power, watching as he noticed the change.

There were a few moments of silence where she let go of him and waited as Jason pondered the new information.

His eyes were blue when he looked back up. “You’re not quite human,” she nodded. One of his hands lifted to touch her face, as if he was trying to make sure she was still the same person. “And I’m like you.”

“Kinda.”

He hummed. Birds chirped outside, reminding her that this was supposed to be a quiet morning in bed with the cute date she somehow scored. Nothing can be simple with her, huh. Figures.

“You really didn’t know about me?”

It was something in his eyes when he said it — a guarded sadness. She had seen that look a few times on their date, usually when he obviously changed the topic of conversation. He had been hurt before, and he lived life waiting for the moment someone else would hurt him again.

“I swear on my life, Jason. I only said yes to the date because I thought you were cute. Nothing else.”

His mouth twisted. “I’m not cute.”

“Yes you are.”

He rolled his eyes, letting go of her face and slumping back to rest on the pillow. “Am not.”

She leaned in, her long hair sliding over her shoulder and making a barrier that shielded them from the sunlight coming from the window. She felt his eyes roam through her face and down her body, reminding her that she was as naked. And so was he.

When he looked back up, his gaze was burning with reignited desire.

“Should I spend this fine morning convincing you?”

His breath hitched, the muscles of his stomach tensing in anticipation. “Nothing you can do will change my mind.”

Jazz’s smile widened when she caught the playful tone in his voice. He wanted this. He wanted to continue. And maybe a repeat of last night.

Alright then.

This time she didn’t need to hold back.

She let her hands rest on his shoulders, pinning him down to the mattress. She used a bit more strength than what was necessary, but not enough to hurt; just enough to make the point that if she wanted, she could do so much more.

By his sudden blush going all the way up to his ears, he got the message.

Jazz licked her lips, ready to devour that cute smile and every sound she could force out of it.

***

“Are you sure about this?”

“Positive.”

Jazz looked down at their entwined hands, squeezing Jason’s fingers, trying to ground herself.

It was silly being this nervous — it wasn’t like they were teenagers. If her boyfriend’s family didn’t approve of her they couldn’t actually do anything. Not that they would disapprove. Jason was sure they would love her, he told her so too many times on different occasions.

But it was… an experience. Knowing that your boyfriend of a few months was part of the Waynes. She usually forgot because Jason didn’t frequent the Manor and had a life outside of the glitz and glamor, so it had never affected their relationship.

That was until they learned about her existence — Jason didn’t hide her, but he wasn’t going to share every bit of his personal life — and asked if she wanted to come over to dinner one day.

Jazz didn’t mind, so she said yes. After all, Jason already knew Danny and had “passed the vibe check”, Danny’s words, so she took it as a sign that it was fine if they became official-official.

Still, she was very nervous. This relationship had been the longest she ever had and she knew how important family approval was and it didn’t matter that Jason was a bit estranged from the family, it did matter for her anyway and—

“I can hear you panic from here.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No. You don’t.” She rolled her eyes. “Are we doing this or not?”

Jason narrowed his eyes at her, not believing her at all, but let it slide. There was no point in arguing at the door.

“It will be fine.” He leaned so he could whisper. “They can be a lot but they’re harmless. Also I’ll protect you.”

She looked at him funny. Both knew she was the stronger one between them, a fact he very much enjoyed, so he didn’t mean it as in physical protection.

Jazz breathed slowly, taking in the offering of support. Jason would be there, he wouldn’t let them be mean to her.

Why the hell would they be mean to her? Silly Jasmine. They were just a family. Stupid rich, famous celebrities and very public faces in Gotham — but Jason’s family nonetheless.

She got this.

At her nod, Jason rang the bell and immediately it was opened by the butler. Alfred, if she remembered correctly. Was he on the side of the door, waiting?

“Welcome home, master Jason,” he nodded at them, “and Miss Jasmine.”

“Jazz is fine.”

The butler smiled, clearly not having any intention of using the nickname. Jason had warned her that Alfred could be a “petty motherfucker”, but that it was to the people he liked. She took it as a good sign.

“Please, come in.”

Jazz took another deep breath and walked into the gigantic Manor and straight into the fray. Maybe literally.

Inside there were so many people just looking at her, analyzing her, with various curious expressions.

“Told you she was real.” She heard what was supposed to be a quiet whisper, and a blonde girl elbowed a black haired guy next to her. Stephanie and Tim, going by Jason’s descriptions; which while colorful and varied in expletives depending on how mad he was at them, were actually very accurate. “Pay up, bitch.”

The guy grumbled but placed a few bills in her awaiting hand.

Jazz had to chuckle. That was weird, but funny. It made her relax a little.

“Ah, Jasmine, right?”

The voice made her look away from the people watching her like she was some kind of exotic animal (truly, what the hell was so interesting about her?) to find—

No.

It couldn’t be.

Could it?

Her liminal boyfriend’s adoptive father couldn’t be the actual Batman.

But the aura was the same, the same height and build, the same slight touch of death. Her eyes were sharp enough to catch the almost invisible and well healed scars on the man’s chin and the ones peeking from the black turtleneck.

He carried himself differently too, more relaxed, and if she wasn’t already onto him she would have been fooled.

Jazz smiled and shook the hand he offered, making a conscious effort to not squeeze his hand and reveal herself too quickly just to be petty. That was Danny’s thing. For now she would observe and behave like the perfect girlfriend.

They did make it hard, though. The whole Wayne clan was not what you’d expect from Gotham’s high society and acted more like a bunch of misbehaving kids in an unsupervised classroom.

It made sense now how Jason was so… so different than what you’d expect from the son of a socialite. At first he acted a bit guarded and checked that she didn’t take all the prodding and roughing between siblings and family friends badly; but once she laughed at the insanity he relaxed and let himself be part of the bickering like he belonged there.

She watched them interact, noticing the details that made it obvious now that the whole flock was a bat or bird — the question is who was who.

As she tried to play Guess Who with the Gotham heroes, it slowly dawned on her that Jason was another hero too. All the canceled dates and dodged questions about what he did in his free time. All his secrets and poorly disguised attempts at being subtle fit together in a single picture.

The Red Hood.

Danny was going to flip. If Jason hadn’t “passed the vibe check” already he definitely would have now.

Which she was more than fine with, if Jason was Red Hood. It actually made it easier for her to introduce him to the remaining secrets she was keeping from him until Danny gave the okay. After that night’s dinner, something told her that he would be fine with revealing herself to Jason.

Maybe Batman would stop being so difficult in the League meetings. The man had a thousand questions and didn’t trust anything they said, always asking for a second and third opinion. It didn’t become an open animosity because it was obvious it came from a place of caution and not hatred, but made the meetings drag for hours and Jazz’s royal armor was very uncomfortable to wear for so long.

Bruce didn’t seem to make the connection yet. If he did he was a great liar, because he did a one eighty from the dark vigilante and League member that drilled her and her brother with questions. He was more like… a hopeful puppy. Glancing between Jason and her, watching every touch and casual caress like a hawk.

Jason had mentioned that his relationship with his father had been very bad for a long time, but that they were working on it. Maybe he hoped that being nice to her got him cookie points in his son’s mind.

Whatever the case, she was going to have fun with this. As a treat.

***

Jasmine was… very tall.

Bruce’s mind was still repeating the moment she entered the Manor.Even at his six foot two he had to look up to smile at the guest. Not that he disliked tall women or thought that it was a bad thing, it was just an observation — maybe she was secretly an Amazon? Jason said he had looked into her enough to know that wasn’t the case; and had threatened with blowing up the Batcave if he dared investigate his girlfriend, so Bruce just observed. For now.

But she was too soft to be an Amazon, Bruce decided as the evening progressed. She smiled easily and didn’t have that constant battle-ready stance the Amazons he knew had. So he relaxed with the idea that Jason genuinely liked this civilian woman, she honestly liked him back, and she could be a good thing for his son.

If only he could shake the nagging thought that she felt familiar. Had they met before? He would remember meeting such a woman with striking red hair. She was definitely not a hero or Jason would have introduced her as such; nor she was a person that frequented the social circles Brucie Wayne did, given her humble origins and honest, hardworking job as a therapist.

It was something in her eyes, he considered by the time dinner was served. They were a shade of blue he had never seen before, and with the right light he could almost glimpse green highlights, but from this distance he couldn’t be sure.

In any case, Bruce decided she was good. Family oriented, unafraid to say what she was thinking, and with a dark sense of humor that Jason was completely smitten with. Bruce knew that look, his son was a goner whether he knew it or not.

She fit perfectly in their family, he decided as well, watching her bicker with Stephanie about some celebrity drama that Bruce didn’t know about, taking the knife Jason was waving in Tim’s direction without even looking at her hands. She flowed with ease in the chaos and had an answer for any question without revealing anything about herself she wasn’t willing to say. Among a family of detectives, that took some skill.

Bruce was curious about her, about where she came from, but for his son’s sake he was ready to set his paranoia aside and trust that she wasn’t secretly a villain.

He did such a good job once he made the decision, up until they were saying their goodbyes. Bruce was pleasantly surprised when Jasmine– when Jazz hugged him instead of doing a handshake. Her arms were firm around him and her height let her comfortably rest her head against his, a soft gesture far removed from Diana’s strong hugs against her muscled chest.

Jazz took a breath and said: “See you on Monday, B.”

This puzzled him. Monday? Why would he see her on Monday? Bruce was not needed anywhere on that day; in fact, Batman was supposed to be in Watchtower duty on Monday. And the follow up meeting with the King of the Ghosts.

When they parted, surrounded by the noise of the others messing around and bickering with Jason, it dawned on him as he saw her eyes from this close.

Green.

They glowed slightly green, unnaturally green, if you saw them this close. Her skin was pale, with freckles that reflected stars under the house’s lights.

He knew someone else that fit all of these characteristics, someone in his life as Batman.

Jasmine smiled widely, watching him put it together with mischievous glee. She patted his shoulder a little bit too hard for what was considered normal, and walked away to join her boyfriend out of the Manor.

Paralyzed, Bruce watched them go.

***

Jazz giggled against her hand, trying not to be too obvious.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’ll find out soon.”

Jason looked at her weird but still continued walking to the bike, slightly swinging their joined hands, an extra spring to his step. This visit had been important, she knew, but hadn’t realized exactly how important it was for him. For all the trash talk and exasperation, Jason was a family man and valued the opinion and approval of the others.

And she had passed the test, if she had read their reactions well.

Well, let’s hope that the thing with Batman goes well too, since she needed his approval as well as Bruce Wayne’s. Funny enough Jazz was way calmer than before going to meet the family — Batman was just a man, and it simply wasn’t the same as meeting your boyfriend’s father. She didn’t have any reservations about fighting Batman if it came to it, he had been rude to her and her brother, and had lost all respect she had before they started the process of establishing a relationship between the Realms and the Living World.

But before she even considered what she would do the next Monday, Jazz knew she needed to have a conversation with Jason. If her suspicions were true and he was the Red Hood, whatever was going to go down with Batman was of his interest. Also, if they were going serious, he deserved to know about the Princess thing as well.

She waited until they were at his apartment to open her mouth about it. She let them both settle in, Jason shedding the jacket before going to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Jazz watched him, quietly standing at the door.

“Jason.”

He looked at her over the rim of the glass, eyebrows raised in question.

“We need to talk.”

He choked on the water.

***

“I don’t think we can mansplain, manipulate, manwhore our way out of this one, Little Wing.”

At his side, Jason sighed and took off his helmet so he could comb back his hair as he gathered his thoughts.

They were trapped, and even if they could probably get out of the gang base in one piece, then they would lose this chance to finally bust the drug operation Jason had been working on for the last few months. The gang would be out of Gotham by sunrise and the drug would be distributed elsewhere anyway.

Dick didn’t blame his brother for jumping into the gang base like this — it had been a last minute decision and he didn’t expect this much resistance. At first he had been annoyed that he had to coordinate with Nightwing since it was supposed to be a simple thing; but as they finally infiltrated the base they realized it had been a trap. Jason’s informant had sold them out and they were waiting for the vigilantes.

Calling for backup from the other bats was not an option. They were either busy with their civilian lives and couldn’t help until it was too late, or were away on a superhero mission.

Jason was thinking something along those lines, because he was growling and grabbing on his hair, cursing under his breath.

They were hiding in an empty room in the abandoned office building the gang was using as a base. It was small and only had one window, and the door couldn’t be locked but they pushed a heavy desk in front of it just in case.

It was safe, but they couldn’t move. Inside the building there were too many armed gang members looking for them, and some of them had night vision gear. Outside, there were snipers posted on the roof and hidden in nearby buildings, and they didn’t know where exactly they were.

They needed help. But nobody could arrive in time. If only—

An idea!

“But we could malewife.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Dick turned to fully face his brother, the light pollution of the city coming from the window enough to illuminate Jason’s confused frown.

“Call Jazz.”

“What?”

“Yeah! She’s free right now, right?”

“Yeah because I stood her up!” He growled. “We were supposed to be on a movie date two hours ago!”

“So she’s free.”

“I don’t think you are focusing on the important part here.”

“She won’t be mad at you, she knows about the vigilante thing.”

Jason huffed. “That she knows doesn’t mean she won’t be mad.”

“You won’t know until you call~” Dick hoped his smile was reassuring. “I bet this is not the first time something is canceled because of your night activities.”

“It... It isn’t.”

“Was she mad, then?”

His brother looked at his feet, thinking for a moment. Finally, he said with a small voice. “No.” After another moment, he added: “She was very supportive, actually.”

Dick contained the instinct to squeal in joy. They were just so cute, the most adorable couple, and they fit so well with each other. Jason was the happiest he had ever seen him, ever; and when they were together his laughs were easy and his smiles were constant.

It didn’t hurt to know she accepted his brother in all aspects, guns and vigilantism included. Or that she herself was a protector of sorts.

The Princess of the Infinite Realms.

Not an Amazon as they suspected, but she sure was something else.

(It didn’t save Jason from being teased for dating a Princess, though.)

So it meant she was a hero too, or could potentially help them out of the situation.

“Good!” Jason looked at him, confused. “So call her and ask her if she can come and get us out of here.”

“I won’t force this life on her—”

“You kinda did the moment you guys came clean about secrets and went steady, Jaybird.” He patted his brother’s shoulder. “If she wasn’t willing to be a part of your life, all of it, she wouldn’t have said yes.”

Jason processed his words for a few seconds. With a defeated sigh, he put on the helmet again and connected the call.

“Hey.” Dick couldn’t hear Jazz’s voice clear enough to understand the words, but the tone was loud. “I know… I’m sorry.” Jason sighed. “Got caught up at work.”

Dick snorted as more loud words came from the helmet.

“I’m sorry, I thought it wouldn’t take this long— yeah, he’s here… really? Ugh.” He looked up at him. “Jazz says hi.”

“Hello~!”

“Dick says hi back. Hm… yeah. Yes. Can you? If you can’t— What, really?” Jazz was calmer as she spoke now. Jason’s body relaxed, so Dick took it as a good sign. “We are in a meeting room at the southwest corner of the empty office building close to the Elliot Memorial. The one with an antenna— Ok? Ok.”

“Tell her about the snipers.”

“Yes. There are snipers everywhere. Please, darling, be careful— Shut up.” He grumbled. “That’s not funny. No, I won’t say it— Okay,” he grumbled again and groaned loudly, one hand sliding down the face of his helmet, “you are right. Happy?” He hummed, ignoring Dick’s snickering. “See ya. Love you. Bye.”

With a sigh, he took the helmet off again.

“You guys are so cute.”

It was a testament of how long they’ve been dating, because Jason didn’t even blush at the comment, he just glared at him.

“She said she’ll be here in five minutes.”

Dick hummed. “Excited to see her in action?”

Now he blushed. “No.”

“Yes, you are.” And before his brother could continue bullshitting, he added: “I get you completely, though. There is something about strong women kicking ass— I’m not a coward, I’m man enough to admit that watching Starfire fight was a major turn on back when we dated.”

Jason scoffed and ignored him, not wanting to continue the conversation.

“There is nothing wrong with wanting to get railed by a strong, tall woman, Jay.”

“Is this really the time and place for such conversation?”

No. It really wasn’t, since they were hiding in a shitty meeting room as hundreds of people were searching for them to kill them. But Jason’s face was getting more and more red and it was totally worth it.

“I just don’t want you to deny yourself—”

“My sex life is none of your business, Dickhead.”

There was a brief pause as Jason glared at him, the effect lost in his red cheeks.

“But do you?”

“Do I what.”

“Wish for her to pick you up and manhandle you as she wishes?”

Bingo. He looked away. “None of your business.” He repeated a bit more weakly. Dick bit back a smile, waiting for his brother to crack. It wasn’t long before he sighed and said: “She’s very into trying anything and has the strength to back it up. We had… talked. About things.”

“She has a strap, then?”

“That’s it. Conversation over.” Jason crossed his arms, huffing.

Dick raised his hands in defeat, still smiling. “Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t pry.”

His brother didn’t quite believe him, but let him be, turning to glare at the window as if he could make Jazz suddenly materialize with the power of his mind.

Fool.

As if they hadn’t already seen the bites and hickeys she left on him. Was he even trying to hide them? Tim’s theory is that he wanted everyone to know who he belonged to like some kind of kink going on. Not that anybody was judging! Everyone has their kinks and gods know that each of them has seen and knows too much about the others’ sexual lives — word traveled fast down the hero grapevine and the walls in the Manor weren’t as thick as you would think.

So far Jason had managed to stay safe from it since he was very private and the thing with Roy had been very lowkey — Dick still couldn’t forgive that he found out a year into their relationship, and neither had told him — but Jazz was now a regular at the Manor, between the whole Infinite Realms talk and Alfred taking it upon himself to teach her how to cook edible food, so the couple was around the family plenty of time.

“‘I wouldn’t mind dying if it’s between those thighs’, right?”

“What?”

“You. That thought must have crossed your mind, yes?” He shrugged. “It surely did cross mine more than one back when Kori—”

The window was slammed open, the long body of Jason’s girlfriend swiftly sliding inside in one smooth movement. She was tall, but she knew how to move.

“Hello, boys.” She breathed once she was inside, one hand pushing back stray locks that escaped her braid. “Sorry for the wait.”

She was not an Amazon, but Dick could almost believe she was at that moment. The casual stance she usually had, as if she weren’t sure where to put her long limbs, was now gone. In its place, Jasmine was secure in her skin, strong, wearing a teal bodysuit that shimmered under the light coming from the window, betraying it was not simple spandex. Over the suit she had pieces of black armor on vulnerable places — kinda like how Diana suited up, but without the signature colors of Wonder Woman and with pulsing, glowing runes engraved in the edges instead.

They knew she was a warrior, that the title of Princess of the Infinite Realms didn’t only mean ballgowns and pretty jewelry; but seeing was very different from knowing.

“Hello, darling.”

She zeroed on Jason as he stood up from the floor, dusting his pants. Jazz got to his position with a few long steps and picked him up, narrowing her eyes as if she were trying to decipher something difficult.

“Not hurt?”

“Uh-huh.” His brother shook his head. “Have a little more faith in me.”

Still, she quickly checked him for non-visible injuries, smirking when Jason winced as she squeezed his shoulder. Instead of chastising him for lying, she leaned in to kiss his helmet on the cheek, patting the other cheek twice.

“Not a word.”

“Uh-huh.” She said in the same tone Jason had used to dismiss her worries.

They were adorable.

“Not that I don’t enjoy watching you two, but we need to make a plan.” Dick had to say, even if he liked seeing his brother relax just by the presence of his girlfriend.

“Right,” Jazz stood back up to her whole height, back straight, looking out of the window. “I took care of the snipers on this roof and the ones I detected around here, but I didn’t stay to check if there were more.”

Dick would have done a full sweep before jumping in, but Jazz was not a Bat. He wouldn’t judge her as such. Also, they had time to thoroughly train her.

“They took our gear.” Jason sighed, probably missing his guns. And his jacket. “So we’ll need to parkour down the old school way.”

“Or I could carry you.”

The smile that stretched Dick’s lips was like the one he had when Jason face planted right after trying to do a dramatic exit.

“I’m in!” He quickly approached her, completely ready to be carried like when Superman or Wally did it. He jumped into her arms without waiting for her to say anything, chuckling when she caught him anyway.

“Jay?”

Resigned, Jason sighed and walked to the pair. “I’ll wait here-”

Jazz could move fast, it turns out. Dick felt weightless as he was moved under one of her arms, watching with glee as she circled the now free arm around her boyfriend’s waist to lift him up with ease.

“This is exciting.”

“Shut up, Dickhead.”

“I feel like a little kid.”

“You behave like one.”

Jazz chuckled at their banter, walking towards the window. “Keep your arms in at all times during the ride and remember to have fun.”

She didn’t hesitate when she jumped out, the powerful leap rippling through her body, muscles tensing as they soared through the air towards the closest rooftop. Even if she said the thing about not moving, Dick decided to stretch his arms with a soft “wiii~” as he watched the street pass by far below them.

The landing was rougher than what the Bats were used to, but Jazz took the impact without flinching. Right. Inhuman durability. Undead Princesses didn’t have to worry about fucking up their knees.

She let them go, eyes already sweeping their surroundings even if she landed on a relatively secluded part behind some water tanks.

“We need to get back in.”

She turned towards Jason, expression unreadable. Dick saw her eyes run over his brother’s body, worry shining in her eyes, one eyebrow twitching slightly as the only sign of her actual emotions. She was trying hard to not show her thoughts, which was weird since she was usually very forthcoming as a civilian.

Princess. Jasmine was really a Princess. Dick understood the need to show a strong front when in a position of responsibility, he knew he also changed when he was acting as his team’s lead; but as everything about her other life, seeing was different from knowing.

Was this how people felt when they learned about them? When Brucie Wayne turned out to be The Dark Knight? Dick’s head was struggling to merge the picture of the warm presence of Jason’s cute girlfriend and this warrior princess.

“What do you need me to do?”

It was subtle, but Jason’s shoulders dropped with relief. He expected her to fight his decision.

His face was soft as he took off the helmet to look her in the eyes. “First we need our gear and they’ll probably have it still in the room they took us to.”

Jazz nodded. “Want me to get in and fetch it for you?” She said as if she were asking him what he wanted from the grocery store. He nodded, one hand extended to brush stray hairs behind her left ear. “Give me five minutes then.”

The air was charged when their eyes met, and Dick couldn’t look away. It was magical, in a way, how her blue eyes started to glow like some kind of bioluminescence, the shine low enough to barely illuminate Jason’s face as he got closer to her.

“Meet you here in eight minutes. We’ll do a sweep in the meantime,” Jason’s voice got low to match the sudden moment they were having.

“Ok.”

Their lips met and Nightwing finally looked away. He couldn’t even find the energy to make a comment or coo at them. It was soft, it was real, and, most of all, it was private.

He wouldn't be surprised if those two announced they were getting married within the year.

He looked back just as Jason’s boots were again on the roof, Jazz’s arms retracting from where she had circled them around his waist to lift him closer to her lips.

Cute.

But they had to get moving.

Dick cleared his throat, making them jump.

“Right. Um, I’ll get to it. See you guys in a bit!”

Without further comment, she jumped over the roof and landed without making a sound on the base’s brick wall, quickly crawling towards the same window they had jumped out from. Her movements looked weightless, like she was strong enough to move her body with fine precision. Or maybe it was a ghost thing, since Jazz’s brother apparently could fly.

The rooftop was quiet until they lost sight of her.

“I want to be the Best Man.” He turned to look at his younger brother. “I already have ideas for my speech.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about.”

In response, Nightwing started humming the Wedding March as he flipped away, just in time to hear gunshots and destruction happening inside the building, probably following the spitfire of a girlfriend that literally crashed into Jason’s life.

---

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#dpxdc #jazz/jason #anger management ship #jazzxjason #dp x dc #dc x dp #hardcover ship

[dontexpectmuch]

sometimes jude gives himbo vibes (lets never forget he thinking mexican was a language lol) so what about headcanons of himbo jude and smart reader? I think this could be fun 😂😅

jude bellingham testing his partners patience could be like…:

you try your very best to help jude and his friend, gio, as much as you can when it comes to freshen up their general knowledge. you try. however, as soon as you talk about the first topic, a huge discussion erupts with both of them talking as loud as possible, trying to get their points through. and somehow you always end up in the middle, both of them trying to get to tell the other that their opinion is wrong.

“bro, a piranha could kill you.” gio laughs, looking at jude who only shakes his head scoffing with his hand squeezing your thigh. “not me, though.” he denies, now looking at you, in hopes that you would back him up. “don’t look at me like that, love, of course they can.” - “you should support me instead of that geezer!” he exclaims, offended that you would betray him like that. “bro, why wouldn’t it? have you seen them?” gio continued, not believing that his friend could be this naïve. “i’ll just swim away.” jude shrugged. both gio and you looked at him flabbergasted, no words found to describe how disappointed you felt.

explaining him different theories throughout the day, whether it was biology related or historical, became the new norm for you. it almost felt like playing teacher/pupil. jude somehow always comes up with the most interesting (?) questions ever. and instead of googling it or whatever, his first reaction is to go to you, the smartest person he knew. “babe, what did they say about the giraffe necks again?” - “babe, how can genes skip a generation? do they just, i don’t know, wait?” - “bro, what do you mean the proteins dissolve in heat?” you have to be patient, but also couldn’t help but coo at your boyfriends confused expression.

he uses your wide spectrum of vocabulary to roast his teammates or jobe in the group chat, never in real life, since he wouldn’t be able to pronounce everything correctly for the first time. it is usually in the evening, the two of you laying on the couch, a tv show softly playing in the background. “yo,” jude speaks up, his face focused on his phone, eyebrows drawn together and lips agape, “how do i say that he can go fuck himself and that i don’t care that he doesn’t want to do it, but, like, make it sound smart.” - “jude, what are you doing?”

sometimes, when his cluelessness gets too much for you to handle, you usually walk away, to a different room or something. just, something so you wouldn’t hit judes pretty little head with the next slipper you found. though, he is really mature and is able to keep a conversation flowing, he’d sometimes say something so out of pocket that one would have to be left alone for a while, just so you could comprehend what had happened. and jude would follow you, not giving you a chance to escape his weirdness, “bruh, c’mon it wasn’t that bad.” he’d laugh, his hands closed around your arm to pull you against his chest. “no, please.” you shake your head, trying to break free, “i can’t do this today.” -“babe! don’t be so mean.” - “love, what do you mean you thought mexican was a language? please, don’t do this to me.” hearing you say that caused him to laugh even more, eyes closed and head thrown back.

———————————

himbo bee effs for the win

#football one shot #football x reader #x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #football #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fluff

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Crying in tears at the thought Hobie yelling me I have good hair or he likes my hair

Cause I've never been told that at all ever in my life.

[Me screaming Hobie Brown and hair representation again]

I have really coarse, thick 4C hair. It's hard to the touch, and very coily, and always tangled. Even getting an afro takes hours of picking it out and detangle it which is PAINFUL

And like, I just accepted that I don't have 'hair' like everyone else. I can't style it or throw it up or wear it down or anything my hair is just THERE

Even since I was in middle school I just felt like I had 'bad hair' and in high school I stopped getting perms then shaved it off a year after that. And have never grown it out after unless it was to get braids or extensions installed.

No one has every told me they like my natural hair or that it looks nice like in it's peasy everyday form. I only get compliments if I've done literal hours of painful work

But I'm getting locs REALLY soon because of Hobie and like..

Just imagining him taking me he likes my hair and that I have good hair that I can do so much with

And him giving me loc tips 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭

I need that SO BAD

Hobie picking his fingers through my hard-ass hair and telling me how nice it's gonna loc up and how punk my dreads are gonna loc up

IMMA CRY IMMA REALLY CRY

I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIS HAIR AND I LOVE MY HAIR TOO BECAUSE OF HIM AHHHHHHU

Never in my life have a seen a character with my hair texture - like hair that straight up DOESN'T MOVE. AT ALL.

Even Miles is like a solid 4a-4b

But Hobies hair is big and natural and he doesn't give a fuck about parting it or detangling it or doing hot oil treatments and endless Shea Moisture products that empty his wallet or laying his edges or buying pink cream and AHHHHHHHHHH

He just lets it grow and locs it up and keeps it clean and LET'S IT BE. Like EVERYONE ELSE ON EARTH FUCK

THAT'S ALL I EVER FUCKING WANTED IN LIFE MY GOOOOODDDDDDD

All I want is him to tell me that he finds my hair beatiful and healthly and that my hair is good and actually have like,,, things he likes about it. Hobie telling me how impressive my coil pattern is or IDK SOMETHING.

And not even in a sympathetic comforting way but like in a genuine casual way that he really means cause I've never had that ever

Never have I ever had someone tell me I have good hair genes and mean it and I NEED THAT FROM HOBIE BROWN!!!!

ONLY HE CAN'T TOUCH MY HAIR!!!!!!!!!

I- AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH

I can't go on. I have finally succumb to my Hobie brainrot, bring the hearse around I cannot be saved

#I'm going on an emotional journey #spiderman #atsv #marvel #spider man #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #spider punk #spiderpunk

[izvmimi]

cw: canon deviation. time-skip (post demon slaying). babies. fem!reader.

“And what are you looking at?”

Genya is known for how intimidating he can be, but the round-cheeked, giggling child held at eye level between his hands right now will never see anything other than a loving father no matter how intensely he pretends to glare at him. The giggly ball of dough, practically hairless still despite nearly three months and a half in the world, kicks its feet and Genya smiles, helplessly charmed, before blowing a raspberry into his cheek and lowering him into his lap.

“Those Shinaguzawa family genes are no joke,” your friend jokes. She’s been watching the baby carefully for the past few minutes since she and Tanjiro entered the home, bearing gifts of cloth diapers and handmade quilt blankets, among other soft things. Genya is quickly defensive, reminding her for the nth time that your son has your nose, but you laugh to dispel the tension. After all, she’s right. The baby’s eyes are practically the same as his father's and his uncle's, although when he smiles ear to ear, his eyes close like yours do. 

“He looks just like his daddy,” you agree. You’re still setting your dining table for six and your friends have gotten up to help you pour tea for six, and collect plates of dorayaki, senbei and edamame to set at the table.

Sanemi chuckles, adjusting his sitting position on the tatami.

“I mean, I think we deserve that much,” he says, gruffly, as he supports himself. You know what he means, and nod solemnly without additional comment while his wife squeezes his shoulder before disappearing to follow you. Your friends have congratulated you after the birth of your first child multiple times, having taken turns assisting you right after delivery, but you haven’t seen them in a month or so, and adjusting to your new life has been rewarding but difficult. One of them fills your pantry with dried goods while the other scans the premises for anywhere that she can clean or reinforce. You thank them, a smile on your face.

“We’re doing great. Genya takes good care of me, don’t worry,” you remind them, and they have no problems believing it. 

Your baby thankfully isn’t fussy, and Genya is a surprisingly adept father, quick to learn the basics of bottle feeding and diapering, and making sure your house is clean and comfortable to live in. Living in relative poverty as a child made him work hard and be frugal, experiencing tragedy made him thoughtful and protective, and he does his absolute best to take care of you. 

He’d always promised to take care of you as long as you both lived.

When you return to the entertainment room, your friends and you settling next to the men you’ve chosen, you lay your head on Genya’s shoulder, thankful that he’s the one that you chose, and he chose you just the same.

…

Sanemi and his wife stay the night, and once everyone has turned in from the night and your son is sleeping peacefully in his bassinet, you lay in bed, wrapped warm in Genya’s arms. 

“We need a nephew or niece of our own, don’t you think?” you muse. “Gotta get them in the sack faster before they can’t catch up to us.”

Genya snorts, pressing his chin on the soft of your shoulder as he holds you closer. 

“That’s their business,” he murmurs, gruffly. “By the way, tell your friend to stop calling our kid ‘tofu’.”

You giggle. “Has it been bothering you?”

“Yes or I wouldn’t be bringing it up right now.”

“I think it’s cute,” you tease, turning in his hold. He’s surprised by the sudden movement, you can tell, by the red in your cheeks. “What?”

Genya blinks, then kisses your forehead. “Nothing.”

“Is something on my face?” you ask. 

“No. You’re beautiful.” You beam at this, then pull the covers tighter around your body.

“You’re a good dad, Genya,” you remind him.  You’re not sure that he needs to hear it, but you want to reassure him. He’s heard tip after tip from his older brother today and you overheard Sanemi telling him his mother would be proud of him. You hope it sinks in because she would, and you wonder if he’s still mulling over the thought.

The sweet child nicknamed ‘tofu’ to his father’s chagrin sleeps through the night with parents that love him more than anything on earth, because they love each other more than life itself.

#genya shinazugawa x reader #genya x reader #genya x reader fluff #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #daydreams: kny #mimi's notes

[static-fucking-mess]

Eddie couldn't help himself. He stared at Billy Hargrove sometimes; the gorgeous curls and wild grin lit something inside of him the first time Eddie had ever laid eyes on him.

Billy's plush lips sucking in the smoke from his Marlboro reds, broad shoulders, tight jeans. Eddie couldn't help himself from focusing on the way Billy's tongue flashed out to wet his lips as the smoke billowed off into the sky from his nose.

Billy washed into Hawkins and Eddie's life like a hurricane from California. His loud car, crashing music, and Eddie knew just from catching sight of him once that he wanted to know everything about him. He imagined if he got close enough he'd still be able to smell the ocean air on his sun kissed skin. He wanted to know his favorite bands, his thoughts on media, God he'd even sit through talking about cars if it meant Billy would look his way. (It wasn't like he wasn't interested, just that his own knowledge was limited to keeping his dinosaur of a van alive, and he didn't want to sound like an idiot. Not in front of Billy.)

Everything about Billy attracted Eddie to him. Eddie Munson had never considered himself shy. Fuck, he was a bit awkward about social boundaries, but he'd never felt shy before. Then, there were rarely ever new people that came to Hawkins to stay. And Billy made it clear that he had no intention of staying. Hawkins was small, and desperately choking on its shallow gene pool, in Eddie's opinion. Fresh faces were hard to find, especially ones that were willing to look his way, after all.

Billy hadn't been willing. To look his way, that was. He took to the social hierarchy like a wrecking ball, and sent it all asunder. King Steve seemed no more, Tommy and Carol seemed to fight more amongst themselves these days instead of making biting remarks at others. But Billy? He still wouldn't spare a breath on Eddie the Freak Munson.

Eddie had tried once.

He'd been utterly tongue tied in approaching Billy, picking at his sleeve. The two stood awkwardly behind the school dumpsters as they had their smoke break. Eddie's hand shook as he rolled his wrist, searching for the right words that refused to come.

"I really— I mean... fuck— sorry. Hold on. Uh—"

Billy's cool gaze slid up from where his zippo burned the cherry of his cigarette. He flicked his wrist to close his lighter before he tucked it away, utterly unimpressed. Eddie would probably be unimpressed with himself too. But damn; Billy Hargrove was a God carved of marble and gold, blessed by California sun. Eddie was a home grown weed from an Indiana backyard. His brown hair frizzy, unkempt, and his skin a touch oily from his aversion to water. It wasn't like he skipped showers because he wanted to. But in that moment Eddie felt painfully aware that Billy Hargrove was miles out of his league.

"Beat it," Billy grumbled at him. "I'm not in the business of making friends with people like you," he hissed. Those beautiful blues steeling into something dangerous that made Eddie's insides go cold. He swallowed back his words and the shaking in his hand seemed to intensify.

"No um... no that's. Fair. People like me?" Eddie inquired, head tipping a bit. He wanted to know just what part of his stigma had reached Billy first. He'd seen the saints necklace dangling in the open neck of his shirt. "The Satan worshipper? The freak?"

"Queers," Billy snapped. He looked at Eddie like a hostile and wild animal. Like his smiles were more reflective of the animal kingdom than the humanity he bore to charm others. Eddie swallowed dry air and dropped his gaze? Putting his cigarette out under his shoe.

"Right," Eddie affirmed. Billy had seen the way the guy looked at him. It was impossible to miss those dark, chocolate doe eyes when they lingered on him. It tickled the inside of Billy's ribs something real funny when he noticed Eddie in class. Distracted, but gazing his way like he was looking at art in a museum.

Billy was used to people lusting after him. He was hot, and god he knew it. He utilized it more often than he probably should have, but his good genetics in the physical appearance department had gotten him into, and out of a lot of trouble.

But Eddie wasn't lusting.

Eddie looked like he was trying to figure him out. Wondering at him. And that was dangerous. Because Billy had caught himself wondering too. What calloused hands would feel like holding down his wrists, or what those pouty lips would feel like stealing the breath off his. Thoughts like that were what had led to them having to leave California. Thoughts that turned to action, action that had made Neil so angry that he gave Billy two options:

Leave California, and the boy behind...

Or go to Summer Camp.

The two seemed like impossible evils to wrestle with. And in the end, with defeat, Billy had chosen to leave his home behind. It had hurt more that the boy had moved on before Billy could even explain himself. He swore, man or woman, he wouldn't date. Dating just brought trouble. Laying roots was dangerous. Ripping them free just hurt more.

So, he broke Eddie's heart before it had the chance to bloom. So he thought.

Nearing the beginning of November, Billy struggled one morning to light his cigarette. Shivering from the cold, and possibly the pain in his ribs. The pain that curled up through him and reminded him that defiance tasted like iron and copper on every breath in.

"Here—" the voice was steeped in sweet honey. Eddie lit his cigarette for him, and Billy flicked his eyes up to meet with Eddie's.

Eddie cupped his hands around Billy's while the cigarette dangled from his lips. Eddie rubbed his rough hands over Billy's to warm them, breathing softly over them to fight away the frost and chill in the air. Billy stood stiff and still like the early frost had taken root in him.

Eddie gazed up at Billy and offered him a smile, almost sheepish as he stepped away. He mourned the loss of that warmth as soon as it was gone, the fleeting action stirring something inside that Billy didn't want to fan the flames of.

"Shit, sorry," Eddie snorted. "I'm kind of a touchy guy, and uh. Social boundaries? Not my strong suit."

Billy chuffed, shaking his head before he took his cigarette loosely between two fingers and spat onto the pavement.

"Don't fucking touch me, freak," he hissed to Eddie. His frustration sizzling as his voice lacked the ire he wanted it to have. He wanted Eddie to flinch and run. But he didn't. Instead he just... shrugged his shoulders, unbothered, and turned away to smoke his own cigarette.

The next time Billy had contact with Eddie, it happened so quickly that Eddie wasn't even sure what had happened. It was just something small. Something... simple. But as they passed in the hall, Tommy had shoulder checked Eddie hard enough to knock him on his ass, laughing like he was looking for Billy's approval. That was not what happened.

The loud crash against the lockers had startled Eddie back to himself from the position he was in on the floor.

Billy had Tommy pinned to the lockers, speaking to him in a low and deeply venomous tone.

"Hands off, Hagan. The only person who gets to mess with the freak is me," he snarled.

Eddie wondered what that meant, but it felt like stepping closer to a warm fire in a way. He knew Damm well it might be dangerous to get too close. But Eddie didn't mind the way Billy burned. He wanted to be caught in the rush of Billy's storm.

Eddie had held that warm feeling in his chest for a while. It felt like a glow, and it was something that made him look Billy's way, even when he was shoved against lockers, shoulder checked in the hall, or had his books knocked out of his hands. Eddie always caught it.

The smile that wasn't mocking, even when Billy would insult him. It was like he couldn't put the same vitriol in it that he used to.

"Freak" felt more like a term of endearment. "Loser" felt like an invitation to squabble. And God did Eddie take every chance to bicker with Billy Hargrove.

Mid December, their words had turned into a tussle.

"You wouldn't dare—" Eddie had invited, grinning at Billy who had every intention of dumping Eddie into a snowbank.

"I think you need to cool it," Billy had snarked back, looking less than threatening with his red beanie on his head, puff ball and all. It had been Eddie's. The beanie. But Eddie hadn't said a word about the gloves, scarf, and hat he'd left in Billy's locker after he had noticed that the boy from California didn't have clothes suited for Indiana winter.

"Don't do it, Billy," Eddie laughed.

"Do what? I don't have any idea what you're talking about," Billy said back, casual as he took a step closer.

It happened, in a crash of flailing limbs and shrieking laughter. Billy saw Eddie for the first time. He saw the bright smile that was punctuated by dimples on either side. He saw the way Eddie's fuzzy hair fanned out in the snow as he was dumped into the snow bank, and god he couldn't help but notice the way flakes stuck in his eyelashes. His cheeks and ears red from the cold; Eddie wasn't wearing gloves, a hat, or a scarf. He'd given up his warm clothes to keep Billy warm.

And that sure made something inside Billy warmer than the sun in California ever could.

It was mid January when a knock resonated number 12 at the forest hills trailer park. It brought Eddie out of dozing. The alarm clock read an ugly 2am back at him that made him groan.

He pulled himself up and out of bed as the knock grew more irritated and insistent, swiping his hands down over his tired face.

"Jesus christ, I'm coming! Fucking relax!" He bellowed. Eddie shoved his feet into his slippers and shuffled to the front door, ripping it open.

"My hours end at 11 pm on week... nights..." the irritation in Eddie's voice gave way to a shocked whisper as he was met with a ghastly sight before him.

Billy Hargrove standing on his porch, braced against the side of the trailer to stop any swaying. It looked like he had bruises littering half of his face, and Eddie imagined it was worse, with the way the bruises on his neck seemed to bloom down under his jacket.

"Hey," Eddie whispered, unsure if he could say more. When he reached to push a curl out of Billy's face, the man flinched like Eddie was about to put a knife to his throat.

Instead, Eddie put his hand on Billy's shoulder and guided him to come inside.

That was the night that Eddie learned about Neil Hargrove. It was the same night that Eddie slept, curled around Billy. Like he could protect him.

Billy slept with his nose pressed against Eddie's collarbone, sinking into the scents of cinnamon and cigarette smoke. Eddie was warm, and even though he was more elbows and knees than plush and soft... Billy felt like he fit perfectly with his head tucked under Eddie's chin. Eddie gave good hugs. Great hugs even. Enough of them that Billy felt drunk on the scent of cinnamon and the comfort of his best friend's arms.

They continued as best friends for a long time. Until the Tragedy of Starcourt. Nobody called Eddie. Nobody had thought to at first, really. With the chaos and the news of Russians under the mall— not to mention how the last week or two, Billy had been avoiding Eddie like he was a Germ.

"Get the fuck away from me—"

"Stay away from me Munson."

"Get the fuck out of my face."

"I won't warn you again, if you come near me, I'll break your fucking neck."

Eddie had been sulking about it. Well. More than sulking if he was honest. Had he cried on Wayne's shoulder? Absolutely. Did he get a speeding ticket on his way to the hospital once Max had called him? Absolutely.

Eddie stood in the doorway of Billy's hospital room, looking in on his best friend like the universe had put a knife through his heart. Billy looked barely alive. Fragile.

Eddie was one of the very few visitors that Billy got. Neil Hargrove hadn't shown his face once. Max had told him in a hushed voice that he had packed his things to leave town. Billy was a hero for saving so many people in the mall fire, and Neil still hated him. Didn't want a disabled son.

Billy woke up alone. He wasn't surprised to wake up alone, in a hospital room without a single card on his bedside. Sure, he wasn't surprised... but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. It hurt like being cracked open from the inside out. A glaring statement that told Billy Hargrove:

'You don't matter.'

Even alone, Billy stifled his sobs so he wouldn't be noticed.

"Easy tough guy," the gentle voice came from the doorway, making Billy's heart jump up into his throat. Eddie came in with the nurses, who checked his vitals and pain levels. But Billy barely noticed them. He was focused on the boy whose smile cleansed the tar clinging to his heart.

"Thought I told you to piss off," Billy snorted through his tears, managing a shaky smile.

"I've never been good at listening," Eddie replied, rubbing his hand through Billy's bed messy curls. "Can't shake me that easy, sweetheart. I thought you'd have learned that by now. That grouchy bullshit isn't gonna shake me," he assured. Eddie was determined enough to stick out the hurricane.

"You're annoying," Billy spat at him, pushing his hand away.

"And I'm determined to continue to be," Eddie replied as he snatched Billy's wrist. He slid his hand up to lace their fingers and squeeze.

"Give it time," Billy said, seemingly unimpressed. He refused to look at Eddie, only because the idiot was gazing at him like he was someone precious.

"I've got time," Eddie replied, unshaken.

"Jesus, Munson, why don't you just— just leave me the hell alone?! Why are you always," Billy's breath hitched as his voice broke. Eddie was always there. Like a balm to his wounds. He didn't flinch when Neil beat him. He opened the door or answered the call no matter how late. Eddie Munson was a rock in the hurricane, ready to weather his storm.

Billy thought back to the memories El had shown him in that pit of darkness. His mother, the beach, the waves... and the snowy December day that Billy had fallen in love with Eddie Munson.

Billy didn't resist when Eddie placed his hand on his neck, thumbing his jaw like he was brittle. Fragile. And Billy supposed he was.

"God damn," Eddie whispered, smiling at Billy with tender eyes.

"What? Quit fucking looking at me like that. Like— like... pity. Jesus or like I'm gonna break. I don't need your bullshit sympathies, or your God damn coddling, Munson."

Billy felt like a wild animal, backed into the corner of a cage. Snapping and growling at the tender hands that wanted to hold him. Especially if that monster still lurked inside him somewhere. Ready to hurt.

That fear washed away when Eddie kissed Billy's knuckles, something soft. Endearing. Billy could only hitch a sob as his forehead thudded in to rest on Eddie's collarbone. He squeezed Eddie's hand, and to his relief... Eddie squeezed back. It felt a whole lot like someone saying:

'You matter. I love you.'

And for once, Billy wasn't afraid of it being a lie.

#mungrove #billy hargrove #eddie munson #mentions of abuse #abuse tw #neil hargrove is his own trigger warning #hurt/comfort #Billy Lives

[thecuriousquest]

We’ve seen what Levi is like in pregnancy but what is he like as a dad?

Platonic Yan!Dad Levi Headcanons

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs

Warnings: Platonic yandere themes, child reader, over protective tendencies, controlling behavior, punishment spanking with a belt, missing person

Checkout my Master List here.

—————————————————————————

When reader is ten years old:

☕️He’s hella strict. You have an early bedtime, and you always have to wake up early as well. He makes sure you stay polished and hygienic because of his OCD. He shows you how to clean up after yourself, and if he even finds a stray toy in the living room, he’ll make you stop whatever it is you’re doing so that you can put it away.

☕️Levi is very over protective of you. He 100% will not let you even think about joining the corps. “I wanna be just like daddy when I grow up!” He gives you a withering look as dread immediately fills him. No, sweetie, no you don’t. You have no idea what it means to be a soldier, to see your comrades die right in front of you, to have to keep on fighting while others are left behind. You have no idea what hell you’ll have to go through to even awaken the Ackerman gene. He’ll sit you down and tell you in a short lecture that you will never be a soldier in the corps.

☕️He wants to see you succeed in life, but you can succeed with a tame job as a flower shop or book store owner.

☕️Levi is hiring soldiers who are equipped enough to be bodyguards. He makes sure that they have enough strength to be able to defend you against Titans or any sort of danger in case he’s not there.

☕️He makes his love for you known when he’s tucking you into bed at night and telling you a story his mother used to tell him when he was a child. He gives you a gentle kiss on the forehead before you go to sleep.

———

When reader is fifteen:

☕️He is still over protective of you and very strict. You claim that you’re old enough to not need body guards, and you’re still very adamant about wanting to join the corps. You’ll pout at him, “I’m probably the only Ackerman that doesn’t have any cool powers like you.”

☕️He’ll just brush you off and say, “And you never will be. Now, go study.”

☕️When you try to go behind his back to apply for the Survey Corps (honestly, he’s the captain. What did you expect?) he’s walking you all the way home while pinching your ear.

☕️“Papa, stop! It hurts!”

☕️Because of his childhood, he would never take a meal away from you as a punishment. He isn’t a fan of locking you in your room either, but it gets the job done. He busts your ass with his belt and grounds you, and you have to go to sleep on your stomach.

☕️He makes sure to spend time with you because he doesn’t always want you to see him as this strict father figure. He wants you to know that you can talk to him about what’s going on in your life.

☕️You try to tell him you have a crush on the boy who lives across the street from you, and that boy suddenly goes missing (assumed to have been fooling around by the wall). So sad for you. Papa Levi is there to console you.

#yandere #yandere themes #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #attack on titan #levi ackerman attack on titan #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi x reader #yandere levi ackerman x reader #platonic yandere #platonic yandere father #platonic yandere levi ackerman

[vintagetvstars]

Nichelle Nichols Vs. Yvonne Craig

Propaganda

Nichelle Nichols - (Star Trek) - She speaks for herself. Legendary, iconic, at the forefront of feminism and civil rights in the 60s, she is a triple threat who did so much more. She volunteered from 1977 to promote recruitment diversity within NASA, including some of the first female and ethnic minority astronauts. Martin Luther King Jr. compared her work on Star Trek as a 'vital role model' to the civil rights marches. She refused to be dismissed, fought for visibility and shone whilst doing so. As a woman in stem, and simply a woman she means the world and stars above to me.

Yvonne Craig - (Batman, Star Trek) - 7 year old me didn't know she was a lesbian but she sure knew she liked batgirl

Master Poll List of the Hot Vintage TV Ladies Bracket

Additional propaganda below the cut

Nichelle Nichols:

She is the original badass babe. She was a black woman in a leading role on TV in the 60s, a trailblazer for black actresses for years to come. She is so beautiful and so awesome.

she's fantastic. have you seen her? paved the way for black actresses on TV even while her lines and scenes were being cut and improvised the most iconic uhura line in the series. (sulu: "I'll save you, fair maiden!" uhura, pushing him away: "sorry, neither!") she's incredibly talented and it's a crime the show didn't give her more screen time (or make her sing more often because she also has a beautiful voice!)

“Sorry, neither” in response to “fair maiden” was ad libbed by her. There’s a lot more I could say but what else do you need??

A sci-fi icon!

She was such a trailblazer, and Uhura was such an important character for so many people to be able to see on TV. Apparently Mae Jemison (the first African American woman to go into space) cited her as a reason she wanted to become an astronaut. She was just an absolute legend!

The story of Martin Luther King telling her not to quit Star Trek gives me chills. Representation matters. “Thank you so much, Dr. King. I’m really going to miss my co-stars.” Dr. King's smile, Nichols recalled, vanished from his face. "He said, 'What are you talking about?'" the actress explained. "I told him. He said, 'You cannot,' and so help me, this man practically repeated verbatim what Gene said. He said, 'Don’t you see what this man is doing, who has written this? This is the future. He has established us as we should be seen. 300 years from now, we are here. We are marching. And this is the first step. When we see you, we see ourselves, and we see ourselves as intelligent and beautiful and proud.' He goes on and I’m looking at him and my knees are buckling. I said, 'I…, I…' And he said, 'You turn on your television and the news comes on and you see us marching and peaceful, you see the peaceful civil disobedience, and you see the dogs and see the fire hoses, and we all know they cannot destroy us because we are there in the 23rd Century.'"

She shared the first interracial kiss on Star Trek, helped propel real life African American women into space-related careers, and looks divine in a mini skirt.

HOW DID UHURA WALK BACKWARDS SO FAR??? WOW!

#vintage tv stars poll #tv ladies 1 #nichelle nichols #yvonne craig

[comradekatara]

with another atla revival on its way (I hate Netflix) I’m starting to see “shipping wars” again and I’m hating/fighting for my life with all these z*tara shippers. I guess, for me, people who ship them together fundamentally don’t understand or even like Katara and yet they will hail themselves as the only people who get her (in what universe…) and claim that Zuko would have treated her infinitely better than Aang (I can’t with people). I’ve had a look on your page and FAQ and I think we share the same thoughts on the ship with the whole coloniser x colonised aspect (this is not to say I don’t like Zuko, but still). I guess what I’m asking is do you think these people get her as a character? ALSO finding out that the comic book writer shipped them and broke up Mai and Zuko made me feel some type of way.

i like how you said “on its way” only 22 hours ago (as of 2/29) despite the fact that natla fully came out a week ago. that said, i still haven’t seen it, so in my mind it also doesn’t exist (at least until i do actually watch it tomorrow). also, for what it’s worth, i do think that breaking up zuko and mai is the right call, it’s just that the execution was fucking awful, because gene yang cannot write for shit and doesn’t understand these characters. but it’s also really funny that he apparently ships zvtara (like, that tracks) but also their only prominent one-on-one interaction in the comics is when he physically restrains her…. lol. lmfao even.

as for the way zvtara shippers talk about katara and aang it truly is bonkers insane the lengths they’ll go and the reaches they’ll make to justify why their personal preference is, in fact, morally correct. i mean, intellectually correct is one thing, because i believe in making a persuasive argument and citing your sources, but morally correct??? they’ll act like aang is some awful toxic misogynist (yes, i know) and that zuko is in fact a paragon of support and respect for women. when we’ve all seen firsthand how he behaves as mai’s boyfriend (sidenote: the fact that they’ll claim that MAI is the one who is “abusive” to ZUKO is crazy. people hate women so fucking much it’s unreal).

in terms of how they discuss katara, it’s not so much the fact that the ship is literally colonizer/colonized (although it is), but the way that shippers deliberately play into these colonial biases and dynamics when portraying them. i actually think had zvtara shippers not been egregiously racist about it for so long, i wouldn’t really mind the ship itself. like, they are very obvious narrative foils who parallel each other in many ways and their arcs are inextricably bound up in each other and incredibly meaningful to both of them. i can understand why people read katara touching his scar in the catacombs or zuko jumping in front of lightning to save her as romantic. not my personal cup of tea, but like. it’s not NOT there. i don’t even object to people calling them soulmates tbh, because like. yeah. they are???

however. the complete lack of understanding as to what colonialism is or how it functions (ive literally seen ppl say that zuko isn’t a colonizer bc he never personally occupies territory, as if he didn’t BURN DOWN SUKI’S VILLAGE, and that the swt was colonized by the fn because they don’t explicitly occupy land like they do in the ek) really pervades the (romantic) interpretation of this dynamic as i’ve observed it over the years. a lot of katara in fire nation reds, as “fire lady,” abandoning her culture for zuko’s sake (despite this apparently being egregiously problematic when katara does this for aang’s sake). one time i came across a literal pocahontas au?!?!?? like. it’s SO dire.

and beyond the very obvious racism, the way they paint shipping zvtara as feminist and progressive is insane because, as you say, they do hate katara. i don’t know how to explain to these people that sanding down all her flaws and turning her into this angelic maternal endless well of compassion and emotional labor means you don’t actually like her character as it is presented in canon. acting as if katara lacks flaws (she is, in fact, deeply flawed) or so much more mature than the rest of her friends and must suffer that burden every day (hint: she’s not and she doesn’t) until the noble zuko comes along and is so gracious towards her and her alone (he’s literally the most immature of the lot, screams and whines at her, and at everyone) is just. a really impressive amount of editorializing. and they turn aang and sokka into these whiny, idiotic babies to justify that decision, as if aang and sokka are not highly intelligent, wise, capable, and responsible in their own right.

katara and zuko are in fact flawed in similar ways. they’re both impulsive, self-righteous, stubborn, myopic, callous, and filled with an unquenchable, blinding rage. it’s clear that when they are aligned in that rage, their dysfunction feeds into each other and they block the rest of the world out to satisfy their impulses. katara is able to pull back at the last moment in “the southern raiders” in a beautiful culmination of her internal character arc, but the entire build-up to this moment sort of showcases the ways in which they might not be great for each other as a couple. but people will do some incredible mental gymnastics to explain why they are nonetheless always right about everything, and why aang and sokka are always wrong and don’t understand katara at all. also, fwiw, reducing “the southern raiders” to who is right vs who is wrong when it’s actually about how various characters approach and process their grief in a deliberately subjective way is just. god. exhausting. i’m exhausted.

the thing about atla is that it is a well-written show, especially as far as its main characters are concerned. katara is so dear and special to me specifically because she is allowed to be so flawed and three dimensional and realistically human. and ignoring zuko’s myriad flaws means ignoring the depth that apparently makes him the most interesting character to 90% of atla fans. there really isn’t a need to editorialize and reduce canon to fit a neat little narrative, when the narrative that already exists is just. already really solid. and the thing is, i don’t even think you should have to change canon all that much to justify this ship, because it’s one of the central dynamics of the entire show. and yet, people still do. they really do. so i think that’s telling, don’t you?

#sl1mshadii #asks #hot takes #putting this under a cut bc i don’t want to be put on a list -_- #(even tho i know i already am) #also sidenote before anyone is like ‘but what about’ I AM ALSO NOT A FAN OF COLONIAL DYNAMICS WHEN IT’S ZVKKA. OBVIOUSLY #as ive stated before countless times . lol

[joshfuckingkiszka]

𝔈𝔫𝔡 𝔊𝔞𝔪𝔢 - 𝔍𝔐𝔎

jmk x f!reader

first of many, enjoy ;)

THIS BLOG IS 18+ MINORS DNI

warnings: mentions of alcohol, fake dating trope (it's a fave and I not be sorry), bit of angst, josh is a cutie

taylor's version masterpost

reputation masterpost

☮

Young Starlet Caught in Compromising Position!

Your publicist was less than pleased about the headline. Even though you had insisted nothing had happened, and that picture was simply a case of a bad angle. It wasn’t looking great, though. To be fair, the picture was pretty bad. A bruise painted your neck, lipstick smudged around your mouth as some guy grabbed your hips from behind.

It would be hard to explain yourself out of that one, to be honest. Regardless of whether the picture was accurately depicting your actions of the night, the fans had seen it. Your image had already been tainted in their eyes, and it would be nearly impossible to recover. 

Big reputation, big reputation Ooh, you and me, we got big reputations, ah

Rather than attempting to, it was decided that you required a rebrand. It started with the incorporation of darker clothes into your “wardrobe” - quoted only because it was what was chosen for you. Interviews began to shift to questioning the possibility of heavier music, to which you would coyly suggest it was possible. 

Then you released a new single. It caught the attention of rock fans everywhere. There was a sudden call for a genre change, which you hoped so desperately for. The last few years of your life had made you feel like a sell out. You traded the humanity and meaning in your music for tracks that would generate streams and ranks on charts. 

Within a couple years, no one remembered the popstar you had been. It was all about the rockstar you had become. And you were a big one. 

It wasn’t overwhelming anymore. The work you put in was hard and abundant, but it was genuine. It showed in the love that poured from the fans over social media and in the crowds of your sold out shows. 

A world tour was in the talks and an opening act was in question. Someone suggested a band you had heard a handful of times before: Greta Van Fleet, not that you ever really had time to immerse yourself in a new band. From the videos you’d seen and the songs you’d heard, you would be lucky to have them on tour with you. They were getting relatively popular and you knew you had to strike fast to get them on the setlist. 

“I have a surprise for you!” Gene, your publicist, exclaimed in a sing-song tune. 

“Ugh, last time you said that, I had a snake draped over my body. Still mad at you for that, actually.” You only looked up from your phone for the last sentence, otherwise preoccupied with a daunting game of 8 Ball with your best friend. 

“Well, this one I’m not sure is much better, if we’re being honest,” he trailed off, “the label loves you, you know that.” 

“Uh oh.” You weren’t worried. 

“But in a recent poll, they found that fans think you’re …how do I put this …boring?” He strung his words together carefully, as to not offend you. It wasn’t his tone of voice that concerned you. 

“Boring?! I’m practically fucking a mic stand every night!” 

“Not enough anymore, babe.” He was being rather nonchalant, and you realized that being called “boring” wasn’t even the main issue that was being presented. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, “So what are they going to do about it, Gene.” His name came out like the sparking embers of a fire on the forest floor. 

And I heard about you, ooh (yeah) You like the bad ones too

That was how you ended up at an intimate restaurant in Nashville, across from Josh Kiszka. He was nervous and it was actually kind of cute. It reminded you of a real date, something you hadn’t had in ages. 

“I like your dress. Green. That’s my favorite color,” his eyes raked over the silk of your dress. It extended to your ankles, a slit daring to expose your leg. The straps were a little tight, and prevented you from wearing a normal bra, and the tape holding up your breasts was peeling from sweat. 

“I know,” you chuckled, “everything about this is set up to be as persuasive as possible.”

“Oh. Either way. It looks great on you.” He was genuine, and as the night went on, you found that it wasn’t even his most endearing trait. 

Just as the clock was about to hit 11, he was standing on your front porch, wishing he didn’t have to leave. This was an arrangement, a plan to draw attention to the both of you, driving up streams and ticket sales. 

As you stood on your porch, hand lingering on the door as if it was a riddle, so close to him that you could practically taste the wine on his lips, you realized something. You realized that you were going to inevitably fall in love with Josh Kiszka, undeniable force meets immovable object. It was almost expected that dread would fill your stomach as you recognized this fate, but it never came. Instead, butterflies flew in its place. 

I've passed days without fun, this endgame is the one With four words on the tip of my tongue I'll never say

A month and half later, and several dates to show, you had proven yourself correct. But, who could blame you? What about Josh wasn’t lovable? 

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” you announced to the meeting. There were a few label executives, Gene, and Josh with his team. 

“What?” Josh was the first to say anything, and his face portrayed betrayal. 

“Yeah, what he said,” Gene added. 

You sighed, “I don’t want to pretend to be in a relationship anymore. That’s not what my job is, and I don’t see how it adds any value to my music.” 

“B-But, this is what’s going to sell the tickets. A love story, performing together in the throes of romance.” You glared at the executive. 

“No, our raw talent and meaningful music will sell tickets. I will not be told who I can date, when I can see them, and especially when I can break up with them. If that’s a problem, I’m sure another record label would have no problem meeting my demands.” 

This is what drew Josh to you: your fiery passion. In spite of that, he was upset, especially since you hadn’t even discussed it with him. He was under the impression that you liked him, maybe even liked him. God, he felt like a middle schooler again, paired with the pretty girl for a project only for her to ask for a different partner halfway through. 

I don't wanna touch you (I don't wanna be) Just another ex-love (you don't wanna see)

As it turns out, the label no longer had a problem meeting your demands. You waited outside the board room for Josh, pulling him aside when he came out, head hung low. 

“It’s not you, trust me.” 

“Oh, then it’s you?” 

“No. Listen, I don’t want to be told to date you, or what happens over the course of our ‘relationship.’ I don’t want the pressure of having to pretend to love you.” 

“I get it, believe me. You don’t have to explain.” 

“I want to do it by myself, on my terms. Love you, I mean. And believe me, I do.” 

He looked up for the first time, his eyes were beautiful. But you already knew that. 

“I don’t want to have to forget you, and never see you again because the tour is over. I want our love to be ours, and no one else’s.” 

Josh smiled, he agreed.

I wanna be your endgame, endgame

〚taglist〛

gvf: @doodle417, @brokenbellz, @gretavanfleas, @pyrojoshy, @greta-van-chaos, @xserenax-13, @hayley1623, @kdarling1, @autumns30, @keighoe, @chalametpwk, @sammysvanfeet, @shawnsthighs, @gretavanbitches, @sammiejane22, @gretavanbestie, @jordierama, @alexxavicry, @spark-my-nature, @rainy-darling

joshy: @prophetofthedune, @loofypoofy, @gretavangracee

#josh kiszka #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #danny wagner #sam kiskza #josh gvf #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka fluff #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fluff #sam kiszka smut #sam kiszka fluff #danny wagner smut #danny wagner fluff #gvf smut #gvf imagine #gvf fic #greta van smut #greta van fic #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet angst

[alicerosejensen]

Hey you might have seen my comment idk and if you didn't that's ok but I would really like a part 2 of the Zombie Movie with dad leon.

Well, to be honest, I didn’t plan the second part, but people wanted to and I wrote.

No warning. No injuries, no blood. Just dad and daughter having a good time together. Oh yes, there is a mention of "The last of us".

Part 1

Zombie movie. Pt 2

While you were cleaning up Leon's mess in the kitchen, he stood at the nursery door with a sinking heart. He knocked several times, but there was no answer, however, the sounds of a working game console could be heard from the other side.

Pulling the door handle, D/N did not even pay any attention to the visitor because with a frowning expression on her face she was busy with some kind of game from which she was distracted from time to time by answering messages on her phone.

Leon sat down next to her on the bed, well aware that his presence had not gone unnoticed. He watched the game without much enthusiasm, biting his cheek from the inside, looking at how his daughter shoots virtual zombies with a good result. It would be possible to omit the joke that the paternal genes played here, but Leon held his tongue until the moment of the zombie attack on the main character for whom D/N played. She fired three shots, but all in the chest, so the damage inflicted was not enough to kill the enemy. One bite and a game over.

"Shoot to the head"

D/N gave him an offended look and just loaded the last save.

In general, these zombies were different from those that were in real life. Yes, they bit, but instead of a decomposed body from which pieces of flesh fall, they had some appendages on their heads that looked like a walnut or a mushroom?.. in addition, they made strange clicking sounds.

"Strange zombies," Leon finally said, continuing to watch the gameplay "Why are they chirping?"

"This is not a zombie," D/N muttered more under her breath, making Leon realize that the conversation would not be easy, but he nodded his head in agreement. "Just infected people."

Leon sighed and put his hand on his daughter's shoulder, thereby forcing attention to himself. D/N exhaled irritably and paused the game.

"What?!"

"Pumpkin, I was wrong when I yelled at you," Leon confessed, pulling his daughter to him, but she refused to hug him, although when she was younger, she could never tear herself away from him. "I'll take you to this movie with your friend tomorrow... If you want, I'll buy you something with her in a cafe"

"Don't already," she muttered viciously, grabbing the phone. "I'll watch it later by subscription"

There was another awkward silence. Leon knew he shouldn't have flared up over the movie. After all, as you said, zombies don't come off the cinema screen, so his outburst of rage was just a sharp jolt due to fucking work.

"I understand that it's easier for you with your mom... I'm often not there for you when you need me, and sometimes I can miss birthdays, but I try, honey. I try to be the kind of father you deserve, despite the fact that I don't always succeed. When you were little, it wasn't so difficult for me, because we could catch up with books, games, walks."

D/N was silent with her legs tucked up to her chest, tapping her nails on the phone case. She still looked offended even though she listened to everything her father said to her. D/N was no longer small and understood that her father had a difficult job that required his constant presence, which is why he was often not at home, but this did not mean she was not offended.

Leon moved closer, pulling his daughter to him, hugging her shoulder. D/N did not protest.

"I've already canceled everything anyway." She said while continuing to knock on the phone. Leon sighed, resting his head on the top of her head.

"You know, we could go to this movie together, what do you think about it?" Leon looked at his daughter with a smile, waiting for her answer, hoping that his baby would say yes "I was in the Tall Oaks once, so I can even remotely say how plausible the director shot his picture"

D/N's eyes lit up with genuine interest when she heard that her father was in this town. Of course Leon was going to skip the part with the outbreak of the C virus and the death of the president. But his brain still remembers those moments when it was an ordinary beautiful small town.

"Come on!" Leon hooked her, seeing that he was able to arouse her interest, "you like this. Especially since mom assured me that the movie is not scary. Let's spend time together"

A slight smile appeared on her lips as she picked up the joystick and handed it to Leon.

"Do you want to play with me like when I was a kid?" She suggested it, and although Leon did not like the idea that he would even have to fight zombies (even virtual ones) at home, he still took the joystick and made himself comfortable on the bed. D/N even put a pillow under their backs with the image of her favorite character because you always spoiled her and bought such things.

"Okey" Leon's voice sounded uncertain, but he didn't refuse "So we're just running around a post-apocalyptic city and shooting zombies?"

"No!" snapped D/N. Her tone was already calm and harmless. "There's actually a plot here. Because of the disputes of fungi, an epidemic of cordyceps occurred. When people get infected with it, a fungus starts growing out of their heads that makes them aggressive and vicious. But they are still people. The main character must bring the girl" D/N pointed to the character who was standing next to the main character " To an organization called "fireflies" to make a vaccine since her immunity was developed after the bite. That's all. Take a joystick and play for Joel. Save ammo and use all resources wisely, and try not to miss".

Leon grinned when he heard a brief introduction to the game, and immediately began to understand the controls in the game.

"Fantastic."

Leon had been gone for an hour when you seriously worried about his long absence. After removing the fragments of a broken glass and a bottle of whiskey, you listened to the voices, but nothing was heard except the sounds of shooting and malicious laughter. Having decided to go upstairs, the last thing you could expect was that Leon would sit on the bed and play with D/N a recently purchased game that your daughter has been talking about tirelessly lately.

When you carefully grabbed the door handle and lowered it a little to look through the gap, you immediately saw how D/N was eating Snickers and Leon...

"Looks like you're having a good time," you smiled as they turned their heads to your voice.

Leon was comfortably ensconced in a nest made of pillows and a plaid, while D/N put her head on top of his head watching him try to pass the location using stealth. Leon, in principle, rarely played on a computer or a console due to lack of free time, but he was ready to buy the whole world for his daughter (Although more often he only paid for it). However, now, having stepped over his personal rejection of such games, he himself lies and plays a zombie game with his daughter in order to get closer to her again. You didn't mind and were even glad that he quickly found an approach to D/N, even through the game. To consolidate this result, you brought them hot drinks into the room, in a strict joking voice, telling them not to get too carried away and not forget about the time. But in fact, your child went to bed quite late. You didn't protest because she had Dad's permission!

You felt the embrace of Leon's arms around your waist late at night when he went to bed, snuggling up to you as close as possible.

"If you only knew how much I love you both..."

Just a nice declaration of love, but in the morning you had to leave the house because of urgent work, hoping to listen in the evening to how they spent time together watching a movie, despite the fact that you were afraid of Leon's reaction to zombies. He's dealing with this shit too much.

As a matter of fact, the worm of uncertainty really devoured him from the inside when he looked at the giant poster on the stand. These zombies in the background and a couple in love consisting of the main characters. Leon bit his cheek from the inside, repeating to himself that it was just a movie. Zombies are not real in it, and if the age of D/ N allows to watch this, then nothing should be scary. There's not even a horror genre listed there! so everything should be fine.

They took good seats, but Leon's posture indicated that he was in constant tension, ready at any moment to protect his only child. It was stupid, of course, but after so many years of fighting biological weapons, he couldn't do anything more with himself. And yet, after half an hour of watching the movie, Leon realized that zombies are mostly just mentioned here. But yes, they flash from time to time, but they obviously spared money for extras, Leon even figured to himself that the film would most likely be a failure, but for teenagers it would be the very thing. He even got bored, which can not be said about D/N, she was clearly delighted.

Of course, there was a moment when the cameraman allegedly filmed a report from the scene of the event and a zombie popped up on the screen, forcing the young part of the audience to flinch from the abrupt moment, but Leon's reflexes immediately reacted to protect D/N, which is why she looked at him strangely but did not react in any way.

In general, for the most part, the film was full of shit with cheap special effects and disgusting acting. But Leon did not condemn, if his daughter liked it, then to hell with him. In the end, later they went to a cafe where she did nothing but chatter incessantly about what a handsome protagonist. He did not regret the time spent because his baby was happy and did not argue with him anymore. D/N didn't even pull out her phone once, but she hugged her father on the way home and everything melted inside Leon when he hugged her back.

"Dad?" she called softly, still hugging him, and Leon gently looked into her eyes, "I'm sorry for what I said last evening... I didn't really think so.

"It's okay, baby," Leon patted her on the back, making it clear that he wasn't angry, "I also got angry in vain, but everything is fine. I guess I forgot that you won't always be the little girl who sleeps with a teddy bear and watches cartoons"

D/N laughed at his words while walking with him back to the car.

"Aren't you mad at me?" She asked uncertainly, raising her head and looking at him, waiting for an answer. Leon just shook his head kissing the top of her head.

"I love you and mom too much, so I don't get angry for a long time" She calmed down by smiling at him with her innocent smile when Leon opened the car door for her. "Sometimes I forget that you're growing up"

Leon sighed when he realized his baby's interests were changing and it was completely normal. D/N will not always be a child and one day she may even bring her boyfriend to the house to introduce him to her family, but for now Leon will prefer to buy her and himself ice cream and not think about the rapid maturation of the only daughter.

Even if it's unavoidable.

#leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #reader #resident evil leon #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy resident evil #leon resident evil #leon scott kennedy x reader #papa leon s kennedy #papa leon #leon scott kennedy x daughter #dad leon s kennedy #dad leon kennedy #leon kennedy dad #dad!Leon Kennedy #resident evil fanfiction #Dad!Leon S Kennedy

[graceandtheidiotsquad]

Dumb Character Headcanons: Champion Cynthia

I am having brainrot over the queen of sinnoh ok. I love her and her crazy family so much-! I apologize for how random some of these are-some of them I got inspiration from popular ones from, some from AUs i've seen and some I just made up on the fly-Ok, enough rambling-on with the show!

- TOTAL. MOMMA. BEAR. She just-has very motherly, protective vibes and despite being one of the most generally considered TERRIFYING CHARACTERS IN THE SERIES (and I'm mildly scared of her too!) she'd probably take you out for ice cream after battling her to celebrate a job well done, win or lose.

- Speaking of ice cream, I think this is not only a popular hc i agree with but they made it CANON In the anime that she cannot, for the life of her, decide what flavor she wants and will just stand there for 15 minutes weighing all the pros and cons and unintentionally holding up the line. I mean she'll move when she realizes and apologize PROFUSELY but still- ...But would YOU tell her to hurry up and choose?? No, I don't think so.

- Her hair is usually either down most of the time or tied up in a bun. But only for when she needs it-she doesn't care how messy it gets, she just likes being wild I suppose. Sometimes you'll find her literally wrestling one of her pokemon for fun (usually Garchomp) and her hair will be full of leaves and sticks, and not a care in the world! One of her family taught her how to tie her hair back in a bun, and though she adores them-she was quite the pain to get to stand still long enough to even TRY as a child.

- You wouldn't think it, with how classy she is-...buuuuuut she was almost a leash kid. You think she gets this intimidation factor just from being so classy and dramatic alone? No, she can be fucking FERAL when she wants to be. Sometimes the Sinnoh League will have trouble finding her to get her to report to her champion duties as she's gotten distracted and wandered off to explore some ruins somewhere in the region and never told anyone where she was going. 

- She used to and still can climb trees in seconds if left unattended. This has lead to many a heart-attack for her grandmother, watching her little baby Cynthia nearly DIE falling out of said tree, only to be completely unharmed and even LAUGHING at the experience. 

- Actually is a REALLY big fan of the wrestling/battle royale circuit. She can and will burst out singing some of the intros at the top of her lungs, much to the shock of ANYONE in the room with her. 

- She also happy dances and likes to put on music when she works. She loves piano but even she can't resist a good earworm, humming along to it as she runs around the local library or (reluctantly) winds up cooped up inside doing or cleaning up paperwork. This is implied to be canon in a spinoff game (Pokemon Masters EX if you're curious) and I totally agree that she just-cannot be bothered to clean up her office and it's almost CONSTANTLY a mess because she keeps getting distracted by new things to look at or something she hadn't seen in ages (BECAUSE of the mess) like a book and just winds up reading it all day. It's a vicious cycle!

- The reason she loves piano so much is she actually knows how to play, and is VERY Good at it! A very dear member of her family taught her when she was very young and she plays to help remember him-wherever the hell he's wandered off to now. Music connects us just as much as pokemon do, in her mind-so whenever she plays, he's right beside her again-whether physically or not. 

- She has inherited the family 'way too fucking tall' gene and that does NOT help her intimidating appearance sometimes.

- Sometimes casually speaks fluent Latin/Greek just to confuse the shit outta people. Look, she isn't usually spiteful-but even the most graceful and kind people have their limits. The same person who taught her piano taught her it-probably for that express purpose. Also several swear words. (thankfully if she ever swears, it's in said language so hardly anyone will know-)

- She grew up feeling-quite isolated from others her age because of her intense focus on studying history and battling competitively. Mostly the history thing-the battling thing probably didn't help as most kids were likely TERRIFIED of how intense she got. But-...i think that's why she loved that member of her family so much. Finally, someone who understood her...! He'd even given her the egg that would hatch into her Garchomp. (It was SUPPOSED to be a togepi, that wouldn't cause much hassle aside from the occasional accident with metronome-...but NOOOOOO, he decided to let her cause havoc. Her grandma nearly smacked him.)

- Honestly if you told her you were a demon or some supernatural shit she'd probably be more fascinated and barrage you with questions than scared. Or kick ass if you were hostile-DO. NOT. FUCK. WITH THE CHAMPION OF SINNOH.

- She may or may not be guilty of spoiling hers and other people's Pokémon with treats. She can't help it! She has a WEAKNESS for puppy dog eyes, whether it be her own Pokémon, any she's babysitting (she feels like someone who would do that if asked) Or young trainers she's taken a shine to. 

- Wound up with a heavy ass, GIGANTIC hand-me-down backpack from who-knows how many generations ago and yes, she CAN lug it around with ease. She doesn't much for her league job, but it's her go-to when it comes to adventuring or exploring.  - Speaking of the backpack-she often carries her spiritomb outside of its pokeball inside while in particularly rough areas, usually hiding inside its keystone. You never know if you'll need a pokemon for backup and don't have time to reach for one of your pokeball before things get dicey, after all-and the sight of a very angry ghost and dark type pokemon erupting from an ancient backpack is more than enough to send anyone who would likely cause trouble PACKING-looking almost as if something is being summoned right behind her! (She doesn't know why she looks so terrifying that way, but at least it means no one will cause too much trouble)

- An absolute GIRLBOSS for sure-but also very, very soft when it comes to people she loves. She'll gush and gush about her family members-especially younger ones, or trainers she's mentally adopted (and she does this a lot.) as her own 'pack', so to speak. She'll try to tone it down if it makes them uncomfortable but it's so HARD-she feels so blessed to have people who love her for who she is, as strange and beautiful and intimidating and just a little bit odd as she can be that she just HAS to spread word about how amazing they are! (She's like one of those moms who shows off photos of her kids all the time, just not in an annoying way if that makes sense?? At least she tries not to be-but once she starts rambling about them or ANYTHING it is almost impossible to get her to stop!)

- Often makes hand gestures like pointing when she speaks, especially when she gets excited. She often doesn't realize she's doing it half the time-but she always does it when taking pictures. She just-feels like her hands HAVE to be doing something!

- I will not give away the massive spoiler this ties into but she OWNS the song Blood Right by Madame Macabre. JUST-IF YOU DONT WANT SPOILERS FOR LEGENDS ARCEUS, JUST-BE PREPARED YOU'RE IN FOR A RIDE!

#pokemon #pokemon cynthia #dppt #diamond pearl platinum #pokemon dppt #pokemon legends arceus #legends arceus spoilers #kinda??? #i mean it's in the thumbnail of the playlist so I hope that's ok #champion cynthia #sinnoh #pokemon diamond and pearl #pokemon platinum #pokemon brilliant diamond #pokemon shining pearl #pokemon gen 4 #Spotify

[munsster]

hitched?

A/N: i love love love proposal/marriage trope 💞 she is near and dear to my little heart

Pairings: Steve Harrington x GN!Reader

Summary: Steve gives you a cold proposal, maybe you just need to warm up to the idea? 1.5k words.

Warnings: fluff, proposal, marriage and divorce discussion, pet names (sweetheart), insecurity, marriage propoganda, little bit o angst, lovesickness 🥺

“C'monnn," he whines with a big grin stretched across his face, "why won't you marry me, sweetheart? Don't like me enough?"

"I like you plenty, Harrington, but I won't marry you."

"Why not? I've got solid genes. Great hair, perfect smile—"

"Marriage is stupid; name one good thing that comes outta marriage."

He takes a second. Really, he pores over it all while sidling up close enough to catch your breath. And he's looking at you like getting married is more than an age-old phrase used by people looking for wealth or status or power or whatever. He's looking at you like getting married is more than tradition. Like getting married to you would be for love. Not for the hell of it.

"One good thing, huh?"

"One thing, that's all."

"Gosh"—he tilts his head back and guides his cold fingertips into the opening of your coat and around your sides, dipping them beneath your blouse with a smirk—"Besides the whole you're mine and I'm yours deal, it'll be kinda hard to think of something."

"But I am yours. And you are mine."

"Forever?"

You drop your forehead to his chest with a heavy sigh. And he feels your pulse down your spine, carefully calculating how much room is left between each vertebrae and trying to ignore the way your heart rate spikes at the question. Then comes your soft grumble:

"Fifty percent of all marriages end in divorce, and the rest of 'em end in death. The odds are pretty much stacked against us, Stevie."

He takes a deep breath and tilts your chin up, looking concerned as ever with his brow furrowed sweetly. It tempts you. His face is so touchable—holdable—it's awful the way he uses it against you. On you. He gets what he wants with it.

"Hold on, now, sweetheart, you think we're gonna get divorced? Where's this coming from?

"Well... what if you don't want me forever?"

It gets him antsy. He's bugging out at the thought. You think he won't want you forever. You're worried he'll change his mind. How could he ever change his mind when you're all that's on it.

"What if I—" he scoffs a little and pulls away to look at you, "'what if I don't want you forever?'"

You shrug. "Yeah."

"Where'd you get that idea?"

"Dunno. It could happen."

"Not for me. Not to us."

"It could! I don't wanna trap you into a marriage you'll regret for the rest of your life."

"Trap me? Sweetheart, you think I'd ask you to marry me if I didn't mean it."

"Dunno."

"I mean, I know that I can be a little ambitious at times and that I come off a little ignorant, but I mean well. It's not like I have this idealized vision of marriage in my head. You've seen my parents, my mom's parents, my dad's parents, hell even Dustin's parents. I know all about the fifty percent, alright? And I wanna marry you."

Oh, despite, despite, despite he wants to marry you. Despite the odds and despite what he knows and what he can't know. Despite himself he wants to marry you. To have and to hold, that's the promise. His promise. It makes his blood curdle, he's so excited at the thought of it. His ring, your finger. God, the choice of despite and all its exhilaration.

But you give him that droopy look. You hold his hands and pull your mouth into a flat little line. And it makes him want to kiss it away. Bring back the fullness and color.

"Why can't we just... go through the motions? I don't want you to feel stuck if you change your mind down the road."

You moan and drop your head back, embarrassed now that you're hearing it out loud. Not because you've suddenly changed your mind and not because you don't want to marry him, but because why should he marry you? With all the choices in the world, all the fish in the sea and the stars in the sky, why you? And if you had only asked, you'd know why. He has reasons enough to fill the sea and the sky over and over. Oh, if only you'd ask.

He sees it in your waterline. How your lip quivers and you bring your hands to your cheeks and your lashes grow damp and solemnly temperamental. It makes every bone in his poor body want to fuse with yours. If he had some sort of industrial strength, non-toxic glue, he'd probably use it on the two of you. He wants forever more than he knows. Forever with you. Two rings and as many decades as forever allows.

But maybe it's not that forever is impossible for you and Steve. It's not that he can't afford any of it or he's not romantic enough or forever might only be a month or you don't want to or you both wouldn't love it. No, it's something vaguely familiar and much more nuanced. Something he's known very well once before.

"Sweetheart... You're tellin' me you won't marry me 'cause you think you're disposable or something? 'S that it? You don't want forever 'cause you think I'll... I'll just change my mind?"

"No."

"Hey, look at me, how could I—"

"No—Steve—"

"C'mon, you're killin' me, I love—"

"Steve, please—"

"You, sweetheart, all you. And you love me, don't you?"

You sigh and cast your wet eyes down like you're intimidated, and it makes him feel too big. Too much, too heavy, too loud, too loving. Until you grab his hand. And look up at him. And he's just right, though he feels bad he's the reason you're tearing up.

"Yes, I love you, I love you so much, but—"

"But, what?"

"But... what if that changes? What if I can't promise you the life you want, and what if you can't promise you'll love me forever? What am I supposed to do when you're done loving me, and... and you don't want my love anymore? What then? We'll just be married and unhappy and fighting until we hate each other?"

"No, that's not—"

"It happens, Steve," you huff. He pushes the tears from your cheeks before you even catch yourself sobbing and holding his wrists. "It happens everyday, and I want... I want you to have an out because I would rather you leave loving me than spend the rest of your life despising me for what you could've had without me."

He's never heard this kind of woe before. Not from you. You the spitfire, the stubborn, the meanest, sweetest, most beautiful and affectionate. You, filled with woe enough to burst. And you do.

He tugs you close, arms slung around you and one hand on the back of your neck because it's warm. Because you told him one time that it feels safe when he does that. He liked the way you said it muffled into his shoulder. But now you're shaken, and you have to know he loves you.

"You know what I love most about you?"

He feels your lungs expand into the dip of his tummy and peter out into a soft whine. You shake your head, 'no'.

"There's lots'a things, but top of the list? Gotta be the way you cover your face when you get grossed out or embarrassed or annoyed—”

You chuckle and groan at the snot that bubbles from your nostril. His face screws in and he wipes his thumb under your nose, wiping it on the thigh of his jeans with a disgruntled sound.

"We're so gross," you grumble, sniffling and wrapping your arms sweetly around his waist.

He sighs with a grin.

"I guess it's meant to be," he coos. You rest your chin on his chest, pecking his jaw just as he beams at you and dips close for a kiss. He's warm like a heater. Perpetual and renewable and reliable. And you get to thinking: he's got the prettiest brown eyes in the whole world and ninety-percent of the time, he's got them laser focused on you. He squeezes your hip and whispers: "There's no way in Hell I'll ever change my mind about loving you."

You play up a big frown, fat tears welling in the corners of your eyes until he smooches your face content. It's hard to believe in the kind of love that stays and promises and thrives despite. Despite any statistic or preconceived notion. Despite the past and despite the future. The kind of love that exists to better and grow. The kind of love shared between romantics and poets and lunatics alike. It's hard to believe until you've got it in your steady palms.

"I promise I'll do it properly with the ring and the knee and the view and the speech," he hums.

"I'd say yes even if you forgot all of that."

"You mean it?" he chirps, excitement tense in his muscles when you play with a longer strand of his hair.

"I do."

masterlist

#stranger things #x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #fluff #steve harrington #x fem!reader #x gn!reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #angst

[kaminocasey]

Sacred Woman (Part One)

Summary: You're the First Mate on the Meson Martinet, the ship that Sidon Ithano captains. A few years ago, you all accidentally found Kix, thinking he was the lost treasure of Count Dooku. Instead, you found an even better treasure. Now, you’re searching far and wide in the galaxy for the scientist who could possibly undo the progressive aging gene in Kix's DNA. You'll stop at nothing.

Pairing: Pirate!Kix x (fem) Pirate!Rader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Violence, Attempted SA, Blood, Angst, eventual Smut

WC: 3.3K

A/N: I've been working on this since APRIL. I'm so freaking excited about this story! Parts of this were inspired/used from "The Crimson Corsair and the Lost Treasure of Count Dooku" by Landry Q. Walker (Free on Kindle Unlimited). Photos found from Pinterest!

Sacred Woman Masterlist │ TAGLIST FORM │ Sacred Woman Playlist

“Look at this, Blitz… A pretty little thing… walking all alone down this dark alley.” A slimy voice purrs and you automatically start to grab your knife out of your boot. 

One of the guys chuckles, obviously underestimating you. His mistake. It’s been a while since you’ve fought someone, but only because you’ve been doing your best to keep out of trouble. 

“She thinks that’s going to do something.” The other guy smirks, glancing at your knife. 

Normally, you’d give a guy a warning. But with these guys… this could’ve been some other poor woman walking down this back alley, so you won’t feel too bad when you inevitably have to slit their throats. 

You wait for one of them to touch you. You wait for them to make the move… 

“Come on, sweetheart.” The first guy starts to touch your jacket.

That’s all you need. You strike first, grabbing his wrist and bending it back, making him gasp in pain. His buddy is taken aback and stumbles back, startled. Good. 

“You bitch.” The one in front of you, growls and you smirk, pulling your knife up under his chin, trailing it down to his Adam’s apple. 

His snarl quickly turns into trembling fear and he automatically starts begging for his life. They always do… Except his buddy starts to grab for a blaster tucked in his jacket and you quickly throw your knife into his wrist, making him cry out in pain. Sending your fist into the first guy’s right jaw, you knock him right out. He drops with a satisfying ‘thud’ and you quickly slide over to the other guy, grabbing your knife out of his wrist and he starts to run away, leaving his buddy behind with no problem. 

A set of footsteps brings your attention back the other way as you raise your knife, prepared for another fight. You’re met with a tall Delphidian holding one of his hands up in a surrendering manner, the other hand holding a red Kaleesh helmet. 

“What do you want?” You ask him, not tucking away your knife. 

He smiles, softly. “I’m Sidon Ithano, the Crimson Corsair.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?” You lean down and wipe the blade on the shirt of the guy who’s still out cold and then tuck it into your boot again before standing up. 

“I’m a pirate.”

“Okay. And?” You ask him, still staring at him.

“I saw those guys starting to attack you and then tried to come help. But you clearly had no problem on your own, there.” 

You shrug. “Did you need something?” 

“I could use some muscle like that on my crew.” He smiles. 

You let out a huff of a laugh, tilting your head. “You want me to join your pirate crew?” 

He nods. “You’re a Mandalorian, are you not?” 

You stare at him, harder. You’ve not called yourself that for a few years now. There weren’t many of you left. 

“Used to be… How could you tell?” You ask, placing your hands on your hips.

“From your fighting. It was a Mandalorian style I’ve not seen in a long time…” 

“Right…” 

“So, what do you say?” He asks. 

You walk past him. “No thanks.” 

Who the hell is this guy? The Crimson Corsair… why does that name sound so familiar? 

“Do you have another purpose here?” He asks you.

You stop, staring ahead. How could he see through you so well? You’ve been on this planet for a few months, temporarily living in a cheap hostel, doing bounty work on the side. Quite a life, you’ve made for yourself, right? Your family would be so proud… 

It wouldn’t kill you to start a new adventure. Or maybe it would. But either way, you can’t help but be curious. 

You turn around, staring at the tall pirate. “When do we leave?” 

Five Years Later… 

“What do you think?” Sidon’s modulated asks you as you both stand over a dead Trandoshan.

The crew is still up in the ship and as Sidon’s first mate, you’re next to him at all times. He doesn’t speak a lot, except to you. He trusts you to do most of the speaking on his behalf.

“Well, it doesn’t look good.” You joke. 

The planet you’re on isn’t necessarily First Order run… but there is a presence here. You’re supposed to be picking this guy up so he could take you to a scientist who you’ve been searching for for two years.

“Should we leave him, Captain?” You ask.

“Do you think someone is leaving us a message?” He wonders, aloud, ignoring your question. 

“Could be…” You shrug in agreement. 

“But from whom?” Sidon murmurs, kicking the guy over onto his back. “There are very few people who know who we’re looking for.”

His eyes are missing, leaving burnt crispy edges behind. Ew. 

The truth is there could be any number of people trying to “leave you a message”. You have a lot of friends, and you have a lot of enemies. So to narrow it down is next to impossible. 

“Tell me what you think.” Sidon tells you, turning back to face you. 

He glances past you at some of the crew peeking out the hatch. When they see him looking at them, they quickly make themselves busy. 

“I think we should leave him.” You answer. “We’ll find another way…” 

He nods, considering it for a moment… calculating… “We’ll leave him.” 

You start to head back up toward the hatch, Sidon only a step behind you. But you feel him pause, so you turn to look at him as he still stares at the body, deep in thought. After knowing the Captain for the last five years, you’re pretty well able to anticipate his moves and thoughts. It feels like you’ve known him your whole life. 

“What-” You start to ask, but all of a sudden, violent blaster fire is raining down on you.

You and your captain run toward the hatch, with you yelling into your comm to start the ship. Only seconds later, you hear the familiar sounds of boosters and engines starting up. Sidon pauses at the closing hatch toward the culprit of the blaster fire and more than likely also the dead Trandoshan. 

It’s always a trap, isn’t it?

“All hands to stations.” Your voice carries throughout the ship. “I repeat, all hands to stations. We are under attack.”

As you make your way through the Meson Martinet, up to the bridge, you run directly into your medic, Kix. Kix is a clone who once fought in the Clone Wars and got kidnapped by Separatists and held in cryo for 50 years. You and Sidon, and the rest of the crew found him a few years ago, thinking it was the lost treasure of Count Dooku. Turned out to be even better than treasure. Though you’d never admit that to anyone. You have a soft spot for the man. He’s also who you were doing all of this for. That Trandoshan was supposed to take you to a scientist who’s supposedly able to undo the progressive aging gene in Kix’s DNA, which once affected all clones.

“You alright?” He smirks. 

You nod. “Yep.” 

“You find the guy?” He asks, falling into step with you as you head toward the bridge again. 

“Yeah, but someone else got to him first apparently.” 

“Dead?”

“Yep.” You reply, popping the ‘p’ sound. 

He considers this as you get into the lift up to the bridge. “Well, we’ll figure it out.” 

“Always so positive.”

“Only because I believe in you.” He grins.

You ignore the warmth spreading through your veins and to your cheeks. 

Get it together, you’re under attack right now, you chide yourself internally. 

When the lift doors slide open, you nod to the medic and approach Sidon. 

“Get us out of here.” Sidon commands Parth. 

“Yes, sir.” He replies. 

The Meson Martinet lurches upwards toward the atmosphere, shaking slightly from taking fire. Yours and Sidon’s eyes remain forward out the windows, until you see the vast blackness of space.

“Hyperdrive. Now.” Sidon commands.

The ship pauses ever so slightly before shooting forwards into the dancing bright blues of hyperspace. You can feel everyone visibly relax once Sidon sits down in the captain’s seat. You stand next to him, looking down at him.

“Where to now?” You ask him.

He gently waves you off, to let him think. With a nod, you walk away to the deck command. 

“Reset the coordinates.” You tell the pilot, Parth, a young Rodian, but also one of the best pilots you’ve ever seen.

“Where for, ma’am?” He asks, quietly.

You glance back at the pondering captain, who still seems to be deep in thought, before giving Parth the new coordinates. It’s a quick split decision that you make. If Sidon decides that it was a waste of fuel, then fine. But for now, you know it’ll be a safe place to go. 

As you walk through the ship, you do your duties of inspecting things, checking the cargo, making sure people are doing what they’re supposed to be doing, helping out when you’re needed. You’ve been Sidon’s first mate for the last four years. It was a hard job at first, but now it all seems to come natural to you.

Kix smiles and says your name from the open door of the incredibly small makeshift medbay when you start to pass by. Stopping to lean in the doorway, you cross your arms with your own soft smile.

You’ll never forget the first time you and Kix locked eyes when he woke up from that cryo-cycle stasis pod. He looked so scared and confused. It made your heart hurt right away, even though you did your best to hide that fact. 

“You don’t understand!” He yelled, his voice breaking as he shoved Reveth, a red twi’lek. “I’m a medic, and I learned something… something horrible… Fives knew. He’s the one who figured it all out after Tup… and it got him killed. But I kept investigating. They said it was a virus…” 

You see out of the corner of your eye Sidon gesturing subtly to Squeaky, a large Gamorrean, who’s surprisingly kind and funny, and Pendewquell, a tall Ishi Tib man who’s been on the crew probably longer than you’ve been alive. The two guys start circling to either side of the poor clone. 

“A chip in our heads. In all the clones’ heads! And an order. A command to betray… kill… and it comes from the Chancellor!” 

Kix had grabbed Squeaky’s outstretched hand and flung him into Pendewquell. The effort is obviously too much for him though and makes him stagger a bit but he keeps talking, quicker this time. 

“The Seppies… captured me. Interrogated me to find out who else knew.” He seems to be sweating and shaking. He looks so sad, your heart is urging you to go to him. 

Finally his eyes land on you and he starts to slow down. 

“I… I never had a chance to tell anyone else what I learned. I didn’t know who I could trust… But I wouldn’t tell them anyway.”

You nod. You’re sure your face is mirroring the heartbreak in this man’s voice. His eyes never leave yours as he continues. 

“So they said… they said they were sending me to someone I couldn’t keep secrets from… To the Sith… the cold… the freezing, burning cold…” He slumps immediately to the ground, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. 

You rush to him, holding him up. His body still freezing cold, you take off your jacket and put it over him.

“Stasis poisoning,” Reveth tells you quietly. “He was trapped in there for too long.” 

“No…! I can still save them. Skywalker…” The clone mumbles intently. “Get me General Skywalker! He’ll help. We can save… save the Jedi… save the Republic!”

“What’s your ID, trooper?” Quiggold, a large nervous Gabdorin, asks him.

“CT-6116.” He coughs. “Kix. They call me… Kix… sir…” 

And with that, he slips into unconsciousness. Reveth hands you a breather to place over his face. 

Kix. You can already tell you’re going to do anything to help this man. No matter what. 

You’d barely made it out of that cruiser alive. A bunch of old super battle droids had powered up and then the ship had started to sink. You’d gone to escape in the escape pods but there had only been one and Sidon pushed everyone into it and then pushed the activation switch, which had launched the crew at a high velocity through the Sea of Sand back on Ponemah Terminal, away from the burning and sinking cruiser. 

You’d stayed nearby for three weeks, camping out, scared to leave Sidon behind if he’d somehow made it. You weren’t ready to be a captain yet. You’d only been a first mate for a year. But supplies had started to run low and a desert planet was a really bad place to be without food and water. 

Kix had recovered, physically. He was of course in deep shock over all the history lessons you’d gently given him. 

You hear your name behind you and find Kix, who was after two weeks out of cryo finally looking a lot better. 

At least, physically. He still woke up every night with nightmares, so you stayed nearby him at all times in case he needed you. Everyone would cast you knowing glances and Q even made the mistake of making a comment, but you threatened his life and he apologized and promised to mind his own damn business. 

“Are you alright?” You ask Kix. 

He smiles that heartbreaking smile and nods. He’s incredibly handsome. Probably the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. And since you aren’t the type to sleep around or fall in love, this revelation of how Kix is making you feel makes you nervous.

Reveth and Quiggold walk over to you, intent clear on their faces. Well, mostly on Reveth’s. Q just looks nervous as always. 

“What?” You cross your arms.

“He’s gone.” Reveth tells you. You know she means Sidon. “And we might as well have sunk with him. We’ve lost everything. We’re ruined.” 

“I know… I just…” You look at the massive indent of where the cruiser was three weeks ago. “One more week. I mean maybe-”

“Maybe what?” She demands, clearly agitated. “Maybe the captain somehow tamed the giant worm and rode it through an explosive desert of sand and lava? Is that what you’re hoping for?” 

You shrug. Theoretically, if anyone could do all of that, Sidon could. But… you know deep down there’s more than likely no chance and that it’d be best for the crew if you were to pack it in and start to head back to the Meson Martinet.

Except right as you start to tell everyone to pack it in, yours and everyone’s jaw drops. In the doorway, stands the Crimson Corsair. Sidon Ithano. His cloak is in tatters and his red helmet is in desperate need of a polish. But here he is right now in front of you… alive.

“H-how?” Quiggold asks, clearly at a loss of words.

Hell, so are you. You’re so happy, you could cry. 

Sidon waves away the questions and instead tosses a metal cube to Kix. 

“What is it?” You ask him.

He looks from you to the cube. “It’s… it’s a Separatist cruiser’s memory core.” Kix tells you. “These were designed to self-destruct. But this one… it must have malfunctioned.” 

He looks up at you. “This cube carries a complete map to every hidden droid factory ever built by the Separatists. Secret bases. Weapons warehouses. Everything.”

Reveth passes by and takes the cube, whistling appreciatively at it. “This would’ve been impossible to decode fifty years ago. Now? Easy. We track down those installations… that’s our ancient buried treasure! We’ll be rich!”Quiggold whistles. “And we just happen to have an expert in Clone Wars-era military installations and their security systems on hand. Welcome aboard, Kix.” 

Kix turns back to you and smiles, making your chest tighten at the sight. You smile softly back at him. If he wants to join the crew, you’d be happy to let him. But if he’d rather go on his own, then you’d have to be okay with that, too.

“Would you like to join the Meson Martinet, Kix?” You ask him, trying to keep the hopeful tone down.

He looks around at the rest of the crew before settling his back on your own. “I’d like that very much.”

You try to ignore the excitement stirring in your stomach and instead cast your smile toward the alive captain.

“How did you survive? The fire… the sand… the giant worm?” You ask him, unable to help the curiousness.

“You know better than that, love. I’m Sidon Ithano… I don’t die so easily.” 

“You busy?” Kix asks you. 

You glance down the empty durasteel hall and then back at Kix, going inside the medbay, shutting the door behind you and leaning against the door, crossing your arms again. 

“I’m sorry someone got to that Trandoshan guy before we could.” You murmur. 

Kix was already showing some slight aging. Maybe that of a man in his mid 30s. The lines in his forehead form a little more each year, and his beard makes him look a bit older. In a good way. Distinguished. Rugged. Handsome. 

The thought of finding this scientist when it could be too late… 

“I’m not upset.” Kix’s voice is softer than it should be. 

He should be upset.

“I am, though.” You look up from the floor, staring at him, coldly. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted by Parth comm-ing you to come to the bridge. 

“On my way.” You keep eye contact with Kix as you speak into the small device. 

You and Kix stare at each other for another moment as his brown eyes bare into yours. With a sigh, you turn to go. 

“If…” He starts, making you pause. “If we don’t find this scientist… it won’t be the end of the world.” 

You turn to glare at him. Maybe not the end of the world… but it would be the end of yours… 

“You’ll need to move on-” He tells you, but you don’t let him finish because you walk away, back up to the bridge. 

How could he say such things? Although, it’s not like he knows how you feel. He doesn’t know how you’d tear apart the entire galaxy to find this scientist. He doesn’t know the things you’d do to give him a good, long, happy life. But you can show him. 

When you reach the bridge, Sidon beckons you forward to him. 

“Concordia?” His modulated voice asks, his head tilted ever so slightly. 

You don’t have to be able to see that he’s quirking an eyebrow at you, curiously. He’s basically been prepping you to be captain since you joined the crew. He always tells you what a great leader you’re going to make one day. So, he’s not questioning your choice per se. But he is curious as to why. You know that.

You shrug. “There’s someone that I think could help us.”

“Incoming aircraft, identify yourselves.” A familiar voice says, and you raise your eyebrows at Sidon, waiting for his final okay. 

He thinks for only a few seconds before nodding. You nod once to him before turning back toward Parth and his command deck. 

“Vil,” You say your brother’s name, letting them know you’re not a threat. “It’s me. I need help.” 

It’s quiet for a long moment. Too quiet for too long. When finally…

“Free to dock. Wait to be boarded.” 

“Copy.” You sigh, then look at your crew. “On your best behavior, everyone.” 

You can feel Sidon’s curious smirk as Parth lands the Meson Martinet. 

“Don’t give me that, right now.” You shake your head, amused. 

“Aye, Captain.” He murmurs, teasingly.

TAGS: @twistedstitcher27 @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @idledreams @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz  @burningfieldof-clover @rebelsriley

#pirate!Kix #pirate!Kix x reader #clone medic kix #clone medic kix x reader #TFA Kix #Kix x reader #TFA!Kix #TFA!Kix x reader

[spacebarbarianweird]

“one who moves among hearts” being a possible translation of Astarion’s name is brutal.

If we take this translation as intentionally chosen opposed to real world names where meaning is usually not thought of beyond cultural background. like being named “Michael” because it means “gift from god” (one translation) vs. the name was just in the Bible so it was used

If his parent CHOSE “Astarion” with that intent, they probably meant it as “we want you to be somebody who experiences so much love in your life”

But another interpretation of the phrase “one who moves among hearts” could be somebody who plays with people’s emotions. The heartbreaker.

Which is what Cazador forced him to be. Cazador sent him and the other spawn to catch prey, and unless the most recent patch removed it, there’s basically a Kama Sutra in the room Astarion says he brought victims to. Meaning the seduction ploy was, more likely than not, Cazador’s idea.

Also “tar/taér” being the equivalent of a diminutive and common for an elf’s childhood/first name, something they use until they reach 100 when they get to pick their own and are seen as a full adult in elven society… you think Astarion had to specifically avoid elves?

By a multi species society’s standard he’d be treated as an adult, but an elf hears that diminutive and they’re 100+? They’d probably recoil like when somebody in their 20s realizes a teenager is flirting with them.

Like, could they go with Astarion? Yes, but it would probably get the same sort of side eye as like a 24yr getting with an 18yr. It’s technically okay, but it’s so close to Not Okay that people keep an eye out.

Do you think after endgame that’s something he thinks about? He’s been “Astarion” for twice as long as he should’ve, but it’s also something from his life that Cazador couldn’t take away. He doesn’t remember what he looks like, he doesn’t remember his own eye color.

We don’t know what his relationship with his family was like before, he doesn’t mention them. Which I take to mean he was a transplant to Baldur’s Gate. Maybe he had a good relationship with them but they didn’t live at the Gate, maybe he didn’t and moved to get away. Either way, his name is one of the last and most tangible things from before Cazador that I think he’d have a hard time picking a new one, if he wants to at all.

That's a very interesting point! Thank you for sharing! I actually think Astarion isn't a baby name. Elven baby names are short: Arya, Bryn, Del, Eryn. Tav sounds like an Elven baby name as well. Meanwhile adult Elven names sound like that: Ivellios, Laucian, Quarion, Soveliss etc. Astarion is definetely an adult name in form. Why did he have it though, since he was a child according to Elven standarts?

I have two theories 1) People know the difference between baby Elven names and adult Elven names. So, Astarion just chose an adult name prematurily upon starting his career. I think a lot of Elves start using adult names early in life to look older. Plus they definetely fantasize about what names they are going to take once they hit 100 years. 2) This is a weird theory, but bear with me. There are almost no Elves in Baldur's Gate. Especially, Elven nobility. But there is plenty of Half-Elves. Almost everyone with pointy ears is a person with mixed ancestry. Also, Elves are very delicate and short. Astarion doesn't look like one. He has a human male body structure and if it wasn't for his ears, no one would think he is a pure Half-Elf.

Now let's remember the lessons on genetics, especially Mendelian inheritance. If you have the whole population of Half-Elves (mixed descendants of Elves and Humans), you can get children who inherit only one combination of ancestral features. Two Half-Elves will probably conceive a Half-Elven child but there is a chance the kid inherit Human features from both parents or ... Elven features, getting the same set of genes from Elven grandparents.

So, what if Astarion is like that? He was born in Baldur or its area to the Half-Elven family. Despite being a High Elf, he still has some Human features (ambitions and the body type). And because his folks had little to no idea what Elven society looks like, they gave him an Elven name not knowing it's an adult one. And that would explain why Astarion doesn't have a family to come back to. Half-Elfs live up to 200 years. His parents are dead, people he grew up with are dead. And he is just this "stray" High Elf who wo't be accepted by Elves because he is descendants to Humand and Half-Elves.

#bg3 astarion #astarion name meaning #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion headcanon #astarion headcanons

[respectthepetty]

Tattoos in BLs

Dean [Until We Meet Again & Between Us] - I do not remember seeing this, but I have the picture, so it must've happened. It’s a compass on his hip because he was lost without Phram and always looking for direction.

Win [Until We Meet Again & Between Us] – We will hopefully find out something next month when the series begins, but even if we don’t, we can still appreciate that these are henna including those angel wings.

Jang JaeYoung [Semantic Error] - Does it have meaning? As he stated in the series, “Not really. I just liked it” but I'm seeing an eclipse thanks to Ayan's hoodie.

Chu SangWoo [Semantic Error] – Hand drawn by JaeYoung, and it is the first image JaeYoung ever drew for him when they first met in the episode one.  

Black/White [Not Me] – White had to get it because Black had it, and Black had it because..no idea, but it could symbolize death or strength.

Yok [Not Me] – Mandarin on the flank means mom, but the birds and the forearm one, no idea.

Tonhon [Tonhon Chonlatee] – “An anchor is what a navigator or sailor uses to hold his vessel to the ocean. Tonhon means a navigator. That’s why I had this anchor tattooed on my left chest to remind me that my heart will not drift away. It will be with the ocean and that is your name, Chonlatee, forever. Every time I look at it, it reminds me that I have you in my heart all the time.”

Kamol [Unforgotten Night] – I didn’t watch this, so I’m guessing that it was because he had pet tigers, and I'm fine believing that.

Mangkorn [Big Dragon] – Mangkorn means dragon, and he is the dragon (Yang) to Yai’s tiger (Yin).

Porsche [KinnPorsche] – A phoenix because that was his underground fighting alias, fire is his friend (he gets the fire started in the woods, he starts a fire in his first week on the job, he smokes), his mom used to tell him stories about the phoenix rising from the ashes, his color in the series is yellow, and he is the phoenix/fire (Yang) to Kinn’s tortoise/water personality (Yin - he's like his mom).

Pete [KinnPorsche] – “No legacy is so rich as honesty” is from Shakespeare’s comedy All’s Well That Ends Well, which is about a woman of lower rank trying to marry the man she loves who is of a higher rank. The quote shows not only to live an honest life (in a play full of dishonesty), but to be honest with oneself, something that Pete does in the end when…you know.

Ram [My Engineer] – Has a dream catcher on his neck to chase away bad dreams, a wolf on his arm, a tribal turtle on his shoulder, and a few others.

Forth [2 Moons 2] – Actor’s actual tattoo. Might be a Sak Yant tattoo for good fortune.

Sarawat [2gether] – Actor’s actual tattoo. I think it was something about remembering who you are.

Gene [Lovely Writer] - Actor's actual tattoo. A family portrait. Thanks @calipigio

Phupha [A Tale of Thousand Stars] - Actor's actual tattoo. It now has a quote above it. He also has two thigh tattoos ("Be somebody nobody thought you could be" and "Every sunset is an opportunity to reset"), "PEACE" on his bicep, and an upper back tattoo. *whispers "I love him"* Thanks @veemark

Ai [Ai Long Nhai] – Actor's actual tattoo. A crescent moon. Thanks @mushiemadarame for letting me know it's his.

Ayan [The Eclipse] – Actor’s actual tattoos. The thigh one is a G-Dragon lyric telling his mother not to worry about him. Hip tattoo is "beautiful" (seen in Only Friends) *A little salty about the hip one*

#tattoos in bl dramas #thai bl #korean bl #until we meet again #between us #semantic error #not me #tonhon chonlatee #unforgotten night #big dragon #kinnporsche #my engineer #2moons2 #Lovely writer #a tale of thousand stars #ai long nhai #the eclipse #this year really said give them all tattoos! #strange that Kinn and Vegas didn't have them #but their boyfriends did #yok is my favorite #win is a strong second