#rewrote a worse version

[rawliverandgoronspice]

I can kind of see why Hyrule reads as imperialistic to you in totk, but why do they read white? Sonia is brown and rauru is a black goat. What makes the difference between them and Ganondorf so bad?

Hey, thanks for the ask!

So... I have an answer, and it's kind of in layers. So I hope it's fine if I kind of go on Journey TM where I figure out my own feelings on the topic alongside you, the person reading! It's long! Kind of meandery! Sorry!!

Also, I had written a great version of this reply to this ask that Tumblr fucking ate and I'm furious about it, so this version is slightly more annoyed as a baseline because of Tumblr and not the ask itself. But I got stubborn and decided I would rewrite the whole thing tonight. So.

Here we go.

Layer One: My Basic and Unfiltered Gut Reaction

My first, potentially unwarranted gut-level reaction would be: I kind of think it's a stretch to consider them POC-coded. Sonia gives me more tanned Ariana Grande vibes than anything else, but that's... I mean, I'm aware that there are brown people with lushious blonde hair and blue eyes out there, that race as USA-infused Internet understands it is Complicated (I'm half-brazilian, and even though I'm very very white and don't consider myself biracial but bicultural, I had people discussing my ethnicity to my face a non-zero amounts of time, including quite recently, including in my own family! so I super get that it's more complicated than what I make it out to be here). But given vibes don't count as an argument, I completely get + accept if that reading on her ethicity is therefore dismissed. She could very well be brown. Fine by me.

(so, I feel like I have to add this borderline-conspiratory reason why I'm suspicious of her skin color being considered a factor here, which can 100% be dismissed but I still want to bring it to the table: I've been to several meetings and heard about many instances where "diverse traits" are being handed over to characters with the explicit purpose of using that diversity as shields against deeper criticisms of core aspects of the storytelling instead of fixing the storytelling itself, and honestly it could very well be the case here. I really hope it's just the team thinking Sonia would be prettier with a darker skin tone, because her design is genuinely lovely and I really like it, wish she didn't die like immediately and had a character arc of her own, but. Imagine the kneeling scene with two very white ladies and everything else, etc. It might be overly paranoid of me, but I can't help but squint a little bit in this specific instance, especially since the biracial trait here is so toned-down that it's barely there and barely committed to anything. Which would also make a good argument against this suspicion too tbh! Anyway. Just wanted to bring that up so you get the whole picture of where my brain is at.)

Rauru... Okay. Here's the thing: I can't unsee The Rauru. The original one I mean (and his Skyward Sword Gaebora counterpart), aka: the White Patriarch of all times.

(this has nothing to do with anything but Link's little recoil animation here is so funny to me, like he looks so shocked and his nose is so pointy)

I do think that removing the origins of this character from his DNA for TotK is kind of overly convenient when discussing this iteration, especially when his role in this game is basically a mixture of OoT Rauru and the Unnamed King of Hyrule (and every king of Hyrule that came after). I mean, okay sure maybe the Unnamed, Unseen King of Hyrule wasn't white but... it's obviously not true, right? And while I understand this is a different iteration of that character, many characters in the series maintain their base ethnicity across different reimaginings (even Blue Pig Ganon remains a gerudo at heart post OoT, at least in the way we keep on understanding him). And beyond this, given the fact that Rauru retains this energy of a Founding Father (in the largest possible sense), I feel that, at the very least, that patriarchal energy is extremely important to his character to a core degree.

But even so, yes. Rauru is now indeed a Goat Man. Not only is he a Goat Man, but he dresses in ways that are very inspired by mesoamerican cultures; undeniably so. So that would make him at least mesoamerican-coded, right?

I mean... I guess? I guess. Sure. But. I have now to introduce the Layer 2 of my argumentation, which is that...

Layer Two: Zonai Culture is Hylian Coded

So. Pretty bold claim I know. Let me explain.

Now I certainly do not want to say that mesoamerican civilizations are not *everywhere* in the aesthetic inspiration for the zonai culture in Tears of the Kingdom; I'm sure these real life references are overflooding the moodboards, from the color palet to the symbols to the artstyle, the costumes and the buildings. It's the main way the game communicates zonai-ness to us the player. And it's great! I wish they had went even harder in that direction (I think there's even pretty dramatic differences between the zonai ruins on the surface, much more interesting imo, than what was done with the actual zonai architecture at its peak).

But now, I will ask a question that I asked myself often while playing. What is zonai culture, beyond the feathers and the indented patterns and the swirls and the dangly bits? What characterizes it? I would say that zonai civilization is primarily interested in automation, technology, mining to develop said technology, and things that float in the sky. Beyond this, and from the limited perspective the game gives us through Rauru and Mineru, we see a society ruled by a patriarch (neutral term, it is just patriarchal in nature), married to a woman who is a priestess and doesn't seem to hold an equal amount of power (she doesn't speak as much, seems content to handle the religious side of things), who values collaboration and engineering prowesses, has an army, servants, robot servants, administrates other races through, to be docile and go the game's way, collaborativeness... It's Hyrule. It's just Hyrule, except older and with a different paintjob; but at heart, the style of society upheld by Rauru is very (eerily?) similar to what we get to know in the TotK/BotW era. Actually, this version of Hyrule seems extraordinarily similar to the Hyrule we get to see in BotW pre-Calamity: replace the zonai technology with the sheikah's, and what's the difference --except that this later version of Hyrule isn't trying to pass itself off as perfect? Zelda doesn't experience any kind of culture shock. Even the language seems to be basically the same. It is Hyrule, because it is. It's the origins of the kingdom. This is the whole point of the zonais: being that familiar thing that we know and love, except more pristine and more glorious and more mysterious so we can be sad when it gets destroyed.

So is it aesthetically inspired by mesoamerican cultures? Yes. Does it evoke specific details about said culture? The way politics and religion interconnect perhaps (unless we consider Rauru coming from the gods as such, but it's nooot super specific and not really elaborated upon)? What that culture valued, or what we assume it once valued? Cultural shortcuts we tend to make with these cultures, for better or for worse? I may be extremely uncultured here, and if that's the case I apologize, but I never really saw any of the aspects highlighted as the core pillars of the zonais commonly associated with either mesoamerican ancient civilizations, or current living native decendants of these civilizations. The biggest connexion or shortcut I see is the "mysterious ancient advanced civilization", which is pretty vague and was honestly more convincing in BotW.

Then of course, it doesn't invalidate that connection. But now, as a point of comparaison, to see what happens when Zelda takes active steps in coding one of their fantasy races... Let's take a look at the gerudos, shall we?

(Urbosa appreciation break. She's just so freakin cool look at her goooo!!! okay now we can keep going.)

I have said my whole spiel about the gerudos about a bajillion times now so I will try to make it quick. My tl;dr is: gerudos were always meant to be culturally disruptive. It's their whole point in the Zelda series. I won't rehash the whole thing about the crescent moon, the orientalism etc, but I think it's important to remember that they are meant to be considered foreign in a way no other Zelda race ever is. What I mean by this is, if we return to OoT: they are the only race hostile to Hyrule enough to not only consider and carry out an invasion, but to forbid entrance to their territory if you are not one of them. They have a different (apparenly evil-looking) god and their ears are rounded when everyone else is some sort of elf, their script is different, their cultural values are different, it's a weird semi-matriarchy where the man-king's occasional patriarchy has a very different social role than the king of Hyrule even if we don't get to see all the details... Won't return on the thievery and the 90s islamophobic kick of that time period, but the gerudos were very obviously crafted to be culturally deviant to the Hylian norm; their difference so great that getting accepted by them is an actual fighting and infiltration challenge. And even though they are much friendlier in TotK/BotW, they are still, by far the most innaccessible and different race out of all the rooster of, and it's worth mentioning, fish-people, bird-people and rock-people. They are the only one with their own language, their own strict rules that oppose your freedom as a player, a series of side-quests that directly address the subject of culture clash and differences; and, even then, they still parallel the real life western fantasy about the Orient TM (even more-so in TotK I would say, which I didn't love): the locked-in harem foreign men are forbidden to enter. This core idea is so entrenched that it becomes gameplay.

When it comes to Ganondorf, the parallel remains, more present than ever: in that game he gets to embody the foreign, cruel, brutal, cunning, manipulative, uncomfortably feminine at times, envious, physically intimidating, oppressive Man of the Desert in a long tradition of Men from the Desert and the rich legacy of literature and movies that portray them. It's not new to TotK, to be very clear: but TotK did double-down on the trope at the cost of Ganondorf's specificity as a character instead of questioning the trope that birthed him the way the series had tried to do in the past (even TP wasn't that bad, doing away with a lot of the baggage altogether --for better and for worse).

So to me... saying that zonais are mesoamerican-coded, in a world where we simply do not actively interact with these cultures all that much anymore (not at all to minimize the very real oppression of their descendants and the extreme and sickening violence their ancestors were met with to be extremely clear --I'm just saying that the violence wouldn't have worldwide cultural resonance in the same way and I don't think would have much reality in Japan unless, again, I'm saying dumb things and in that case please do correct me), or the extremely mild and non-invested way Zelda handled these cultures (to me it's much more costume than coding), positively too (good!), and comparing them to the active coding of the gerudos (and especially Ganondorf) as a means to equalize them as "basically the same thing" feels... a little off to me.

But! Now we're getting to the last layer!!

(you have no idea how long I searched for this gif, I typed "Ganondorf kneeling" in the gif search, like a fool, and parsed through much, much horniness to finally find my little dude anyway layer 3!!!)

Layer Three: It Isn't What Actually Matters Now Is It (at least according to me, the person writing this post)

Honestly, I don't really care whether Rauru and Sonia are white-coded or not. They could be, they could not be, cool by me either way. I don't really care if the zonai culture is meant to stand-in for mesoamerican cultures for Real for Sure or not, and heavily doubt it was done to increase diversity (otherwise Rauru wouldn't be, like, a Goat-Man but just a brown man). I do appreciate the visual diversity of the cast of NPCs, that hylians can look like a whole number of people and it's really cool Hyrule is moving into that direction instead of being very typecast into a sort of Japanese-ish representation of western middle ages/fantasy/fairy tale thing.

But at heart, what bothers me between this whole dynamic has less to do with whom is coded as whom than the fact that this game twisted itself into knots to tell a very suspiciously clean story about its complicated world and complicated history, and I feel like it's completely fine to ask for more than the bare minimum of visual representation and question the way these characters get to interact with each other and how their real life struggles are meaningfully talked about in the worlds Nintendo spend millions crafting? Sometimes, what they do is already great! Sometimes it's half-great! Most of the time, it could be so much better --especially when some of these subjects have been talked about to death for over 25 years (sorry to beat that dead horse one more time btw)

At the end of the day, the story itself is strange for many reasons. The power dynamic between the characters is attempting to be several things at once; maybe it's not on purpose, but either way, the world TotK paints is a strange one that only holds itself together if we accept to take it at face value. Which we don't have to.

And to me, TotK felt particularly shallow in that specific department of representation due to the whole... Imperialist Vibes thing (the other ask about this is queue'd, it's coming!), which nullified a lot of these efforts for me. It's not only about who's represented, but how they are represented as well, and, very importantly, why.

#asks #tloz #totk #totk spoilers #totk critical #rauru #sonia #ganondorf #zonai #gerudo #gerudos #when will my brain return from the imprisoning war.... #(<-- it's becoming a tag for the people who want to filter my totk replies out BECAUSE understandableeee) #I vainquished my extreme frustration with having this ask being swallowed by tumblr #rewrote a worse version #sorryyyy #I feel like I needed to ride that buzz or I never would reply #and I guess at least my opinion is written Somewhere #could probably be worded better in places #oh well!!!

[sweatervest-obsessed]

hello !! rn i'm in the mood for some angst with a happy ending so can i request something where reader's got really bad abandonment issues? 🥹 maybe they fight over something which makes r leave ++ spence is confused bc it's so sudden n unlike them but it's all bc theyre scared he'll leave first n then it's just lots n lots of reassurance🥹🥹 thank you!!

Obsessed.

Thank you for the ask!!

So I wrote you this gorgeous 1k fic. I was so fucking proud of it. And then my computer deleted the WHOLE THING (which is why I am so behind on responding to this lmao). But. I rewrote as much of it as possible, and then changed and added a few things. So now it's better than before.

I really enjoy this version ,and I hope you do too!! so please enjoy!!!!!

WC: 1.5k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

TW: Anxiety, depression, intrusive thoughts, self-destructive tendencies, swearing, abandonment issues lmao

“What do you mean….”

You couldn’t look at him. How could you? I mean, leaving the love of your life because you know he could never love you back in the way you love him. He’d just leave anyways.

They all do.

You’re just trying to minimize the pain.

But why did it hurt so fucking much.

Which was why you kept your gaze anywhere but him.

“I-I-I—“ You kept your gaze on the ground. “I can’t do t-this anymore Spencer.”

“Can’t do what. Y/n you aren’t making any sense. What’s going on?”

You should you head. “It’s over. Spencer.”

"Y/n what are you..."

Looking at the ground, you began to fidget, something about his gaze on you was making he whole situation worse. Originally you were going to just send him a text and disappear for the rest of your life, but he came home early. He wasn't supposed to be home for another day.

"Spencer I-I." You flexed your hands, trying to find the right words. "It's done Spence. I can't.."

"You can't what?" His voice was a whisper. You could hear the heartbreak in his voice, but you wouldn't dare look at him. If you looked at him, you would cave and stay and he would take your heart in his hands and crush it to dust.

But why did this hurt so much?

"What is going on Y/n. Talk to me."

You couldn't understand why he was being so caring. Why was he so fucking perfect. It felt like a sick joke that the universe gave you this perfect man, and then put the sinking feeling in your gut when it got too good. Like something was going to go wrong.

And you wanted to be ahead of it. Start the grieving process now before you got too deep.

It's too late for that anyways.

His voice was soft. He didn't move towards you. He didn't want to 'spook' you---he knew you so well.

You know him so well.

Clearly, whatever tactic you had tried to employ when he came home, wasn't working, so you decided to shift. You shifted to the anger resting in your gut. The hot and heavy coals that burned through your skin and made you seeth with anger.

"Y/n, please, look at me."

You couldn't. And he fucking knew that too. You stormed past him and towards the bedroom.

Spencer was speechless, completely unsure as to what was going on.

When he arrived home you had been shoving things into your suitcase, but then when you saw him you froze up and started to try and break up with him.

"Talk to me. What is going on?"

You ignored him and started to pull clothes out of their respective drawers and onto the bed you two shared. It was hectic, and aggressive. You were slamming things, stomping--anything to hide the slight tremor in your hands, and make you seem bigger than you were.

"Y/n!"

His voice made you jump but it didn't stop you. You took the pang of guilt in your stomach and tried to twist it into the anger you so desperately tried to justify.

Spencer slowly moved over to you and tried to take you hand.

"NO." You threw the small pile of clothes you had just taken from the closet on to the ground and pulled away quickly. "No Spencer god. Wh-what don't you fucking get. We're done. It's over."

Spencer rarely heard you raise your voice, let alone yell, and definitely never at him. But you weren't even looking at him.

You fucking hated it when he profiled you. It made your skin crawl when you felt his eyes roaming over you. "Look at me."

His voice wasn't hateful. It wasn't angry. It was soft, understanding.

God why did he have to make this so fucking hard.

"Y/n..."

"Spencer. Stop."

You felt the moment he realized what was happening in your brain., You weren't the easiest to read, but you weren't exactly a closed book either.

"Look at me."

You looked up and made eye contact with him, hoping that the last part of your will would hold strong, and get you through this.

Spencer's eyes were filled with worry and disbelief. You saw the swarm of emotions as he locked eyes with you. But behind all of the disbelief and concern and love and pain was fear. You could see the pain he was so desperately trying to hide from you.

You know him so well.

Spencer could see the straight fire in yours. They were lit with a facade of anger and pain and hatred. But you could never hate Spencer. Never. And he saw right through it. He could see the panic in your eyes. The pure terror and pain.

You hated that he knew you so well.

"Y/n..."

He took one step forward, not trying to corner you, but trying to get closer to you. You took one step back.

"No." You shook your head.

"Please just talk to me."

Fuck him. Fuck him and his stupid wonderful voice and his kind eyes and his love and the way he knows exactly how you take your tea in the morning and all of your favorite books and why you love the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice so much and what animals you wanted to have one day and why you hated spiders and the ocean so much and which museums and monuments you had on your bucket list. Fuck this man for loving you so hard, and making you want to spend every single moment of your life with him.

"I-I--" and fuck him for making your voice crack. You took another small step backwards.

"Please." Another step forward.

This time, all you could do was shake your head and break eye contact. You were tensing up the closer he got to you.

"Y/n."

"N-No" You chooked on your own voice. A single tear broke through and slide down your cheek.

"Baby please..." Another step. "Just talk to me. What's going on?"

That was the final straw for you.

The dam broke, and tears poured down your face. You let out the most heartbreaking sob that Spencer could have never imagined.

His arms were quickly around you, catching you and bringing you both down to the floor, where he held you against his chest.

You shook your head and tried to escape from his grasp, but he just held on tighter to you, not letting you go. Spencer could never let you go, he just didn't know how to tell you that.

Through your tears, you started to hyper ventilate. Spencer wouldn't let you leave his arms. It felt like a boa constrictor. You couldn't breathe.

You started to panic, not taking in as much air as you should, causing your head to get dizzy. You tugged on Spencer's arms as he tightened his grip on you, determined to keep you safe in his arms while you got whatever it was out of your system.

You screamed at him to let you go. He didn't respond, only holding you against his chest and you angrily slammed your hands against it.

Why was he so fucking perfect. Why couldn't he just let you leave and walk away.

Fuck.

Once your breathing had started to even out a bit, Spencer adjusted the two of you, still on the ground, so that you were straddling his lap with your arms around his neck.

Surrounding you was all of your clothes thrown about, and your suit case barely filled with anything.

He didn't say anything, just continued to rub his thumb against your hip, letting you come down from whatever sort of panic you just went through.

He held you close to his body, deciding in that moment to never let you go, ever.

You felt the world slow down. Time melted beneath you as the sun rose and set, the moon waxed and waned, The leaves browned and fell of the trees, and the earth stopped spinning at the end of time and all of the stars had died out. The world had stopped but you were still in Spencer's arms.

"I don't know..." He whispered in your ear, and the world started to turn again. "What just happened in your head--"

You tried to speak up but he just shushed you gently. "But we don't have to talk about it until you're ready."

You nodded.

What did you do in this world to deserve this man?

"Why don't we make some tea?" He whispered, and you just nodded again, holding onto Spencer as if the floor was going to give out and cause you to fall through the pits of hell and judgment, away from one another.

Neither of you went to move, finding peace in one another's arms.

While Spencer truly had no idea what just occurred, or why it occurred, he was still sitting here with you. And while you owed Spencer an apology and an explanation, he was still sitting here with his arms wrapped around you, kissing your shoulders.

Spencer Reid was going to stay with you for as long as you'd let him, and he would do anything to get you to see that, even if it meant sitting on the floor of your shared bedroom, holding you until the stars burned out and the world stopped spinning.

#x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader angst #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds fanfiction #Spencer reid x y/n angst #Dr Spencer reid x dr!reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid masterlist #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic

[honkytonk-hangman]

How It's Done – Oneshot Version

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Aviator!Reader

Originally posted by unicornships

Summary: “Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean. “Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–” “–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by.

Warnings: erm maybe just some references to sex? jake being jake? language? minions. big warning for minions xD

Notes: Originally I intended this to be a two-parter series, but I wanted to change how it went, so I rewrote the parts I didn't like and made the entire thing into a oneshot instead!!! This fic will replace the 'part one' already on my blog, but I will keep this part up, linked at the very bottom of my masterlist! thank you everyone for being so patient! Thank you @hangmanssunnies, my love my biggest support <3

Words: 11.6k!

“Well, I’ll be damned…”

You pinch your eyes shut and steel yourself at the sound of the all too familiar Texan drawl, hanging on to the hope that perhaps he isn’t talking to you. You’re out of luck though, and moments later Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin slides into the open space next to you at the bar, already posed in a casual lean as he looks you up and down appraisingly.

It makes your teeth grind.

It makes your face hot.

“If it isn’t Mirage. Would have invited you to play with us if I’d known you were here earlier…” Hangman cocks his head, and his lips tip up in an infuriatingly perfect smile. “But one can never really be sure if you’re around or not… and that's before you get in a cockpit,” he grins, but when you meet his eye at last, he looks away from you, toward Penny who seems to approach in the nick of time, saving you from needing to respond.

You blink down at your drink, and finish it quickly, unnerved by what you think might have just been a compliment of sorts from Hangman. You’d been stationed together previously, though you weren’t friends, so you’d been expecting something a little more acidic in nature. You’d heard him interact with other aviators, knew he liked to push and poke them, usually got away with it too. For some reason though, he’d never really gone there with you and frankly you’ve always just chalked it up to not being worth his time. In fact, you’re pretty sure the only times you’d ever actually spoken had been in the sky. To be completely honest, you’re more than a little surprised that he remembers you at all.

You didn’t exactly go out of your way to stand out…

You were naturally quiet, which wasn’t helped by your social anxiety, resulting in most people describing you as extremely shy. They wouldn’t be wrong, you suppose, you did tend to keep to yourself, the idea of having too many eyes on you all but unbearable to you. But if you’d thought a roomful of people singing happy birthday to you was bad, somehow being under the unwavering stare of Hangman is approximately one thousand times worse.

“Penny, my dear… I’ll have,” he stops to glance pointedly down at your now finished beer, adjusts his stance to lean even more and unwittingly makes the muscles in his bicep bulge.

“Five more on the Old Timer,” Hangman says, nodding to the man who sits on the other side of the bar.

Internally you blanch, but externally, you say nothing and give even less away, feeling a little ping of satisfaction that apparently, you know something Hangman doesn’t. Before he’d come along, you’d been carefully watching the interaction between Penny and Captain Mitchell. You’d never met the man before, but you knew how to read military insignia, which at this point, was more than you could say for Hangman, who dismisses him quickly.

You wonder if Monday morning you’ll be able to work up the nerve to tease him about it.

You’re distracted from your thoughts when Penny returns with the requested drinks. You had no real intentions of going and hanging out with Hangman and the others, but before you can excuse yourself, your empty beer is smoothly plucked from your hands, replaced quickly with a brand new one.

“Help me carry these back?” Hangman asks then, jerking his head in the vague direction of the pool table. You frown when he immediately takes off walking, not actually letting you help him at all, all four beers still slotted between his fingers. You find yourself following him anyway, as if he’d placed some kind of spell over you.

Hangman stops ahead of you at the ancient jukebox, looking back over his shoulder at you, nodding in a pleased manner when he sees you trailing behind. He waits for you, gaze never leaving your form, even as he nods to the space next to him. You awkwardly step up to the spot opposite to him, and look past the glass and at the selection inside. Hangman, once more, takes up a lean, this time against the rickety machine.

“Would you be so kind as to select track number…” he trails off as he checks the list of songs, but quickly flicks his gaze back to you, and smiles bright, tauntingly, again. “Eighty-Six?” he asks, but it's barely a question. You nod, and swallow, shifting from holding your beer with two hands to holding it with just one. You carefully tap the chunky ‘eight’ and ‘six’ keys as he watches. The machine’s little analogue screen confirms that your song is next up, and nervously, you look back up at Hangman, horrified to find he’s just been staring at your face for the past however long.

“S’been a while, Mirage.” He drawls, making you blink rapidly and look away.

“Has it?” Is all you can manage meekly in reply, surprised when he lets out a genuine sounding laugh. He hums warmly, and you practically feel it in your chest.

“And yet,” he lifts hand, two beers held expertly between his fingers, but he extends it to tap your nose, almost making you almost flinch.

“You haven’t changed at all.” Hangman grins Cheshire-like down at you, before his eyes narrow ever so slightly, and he leans in even closer while flicking his eyes up and down your form again.

“I don’t bite you know,” he tells you, his voice sounding serious, but his somberness lasts mere seconds.

“Well, not unless you ask me to first, sweetheart,” he winks and his smile grows large as your eyes grow wide and you splutter, flustered.

Your face grows hot with slight embarrassment, a wave of inner resentment at his teasing washing through you.

Hangman laughs, seemingly bored with you now, and he turns to walk back toward the pool tables. Without even looking, he beckons you to follow with one finger on his still occupied hands. For a moment your pique prevents you from doing so, certain that if you were to dip into the crowd now, he’d not care enough to seek you out again, let alone notice you were missing.

You know he didn’t mean it, you know his flirting is just to get a rise, but you also know that he’d never do it to Phoenix, or Halo, and a little bit of you hates yourself for being such a marked pushover. You make the decision now that you won’t let him do it again, if you can help it.

Your eyes travel past Hangman then, towards the pool tables where you can now see another figure has joined the other gathered aviators, and for the first time all evening, you don’t feel nervous to go join them.

You follow after Hangman, but quickly diverge from his path, cutting around a gathered group of Navy personnel to get there faster. As you approach, you take a moment to shake off any lingering anxiety, before gently laying a hand on the faded Hawaiian shirt in front of you, doing your best to keep yourself from bouncing on your heels.

Rooster half looks ready to wave off whoever is trying to get his attention, but when his shaded eyes land on you, he spins his whole body to face you, grinning widely in unguarded excitement as he gathers you up in his arms.

“Miri!” he exclaims warmly, and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you when he briefly lifts you off the ground.

“I was just about to ask Phoenix if she’d seen you yet.” Rooster informs you. 

“Seen who?” Phoenix steps around him, frowning as she quickly glances you over, though it disappears quickly.

“Yeah, that about tracks…” Rooster mutters mostly to himself.

“Nat, this is Mirage, you know her right?” Rooster introduces the two of you, and while neither of you make to shake hands, you only feel friendly energy radiate off the other woman, even as she openly looks you over now, nodding at Rooster’s words.

“Right, I have heard about you… I guess there's no real mystery behind your callsign… I didn’t even realise you were here… Sorry,” she tells you bluntly, but you appreciate her straightforwardness.

“They said ‘Wallflower’ was too long.” You joke lightly, and the other woman smiles. A moment passes between you, and you get the distinct feeling that Phoenix has become determined to never let you go unnoticed in her presence again.

You aren’t sure just yet if you appreciate that, but you are sure that you’ve just made a friend.

“Mirage?” Another voice joins then and you look to your left, smiling again when you see another familiar face.

“Bob!” you move to embrace him too, not seeing the look shared between Phoenix and Payback who watch you in surprise.

“Huh. Figures.”

-

Neither you or Hangman have moved since Rooster and Mav went down. The rest of Dagger had returned an hour ago, mission complete. There was no reason for either of you to be on standby.

And yet.

When the call came through that Dagger Two had been hit, both you and Hangman had separately requested to be launched, to help, but you’d been denied.

As a rule, you made yourself easy to work with, even if those around you were less compliant, and you’d experienced plenty of that, flying alongside Hangman the past few weeks. Whether it was him leaving you to get shot down in training, or refusing to fly as a team during simulations. And yet, despite his habit of ‘hanging you out to dry’ being the reason behind his callsign, deep down, you’ve never once doubted flying alongside him in the real thing like the others seemed to.

You’re glad for that lack of hesitation now, glad that it only takes a single moment of eye contact from across the tarmac for the two of you to understand one another perfectly. Glad that when you got word that somehow, Rooster was supersonic again, you already know his answer before you even ask.

“Hangman? Hondo’s cleared us for take off with the ground crew, against orders. You with me?” you ask quietly, looking over at your wingman, knowing that when you return you’ll most certainly be court marshalled, but unable to sit and do nothing any longer.

“To hell and back, Mirage,” comes his immediate reply.

You see him move in sync with you, both of your canopy’s lowering at the same time.

You ignore the panicked voices ordering you to stand down, long enough for Hondo and the others to get you on the catapult, and by then it’s too late.

In two seconds you’re propelled from zero to over a hundred and sixty, and in your ears you hear Hangman right behind you.

-

“Do you want to get a coffee with me?” The question makes you jump, your drink almost sloshing everywhere. The sudden voice, as well as the person it belonged to, takes you completely by surprise, but you’re thankful he doesn’t draw attention to your startling.

Up until moments ago, you’d been peacefully watching the ocean toss and turn, burying your feet in the damp sand and thinking about what you were going to do with your upcoming two weeks of post-mission leave.

Most of Dagger were a little further up the shore, a bonfire crackling away, although you weren’t the only one to have splintered off. Mav and Rooster were currently standing in the shallows talking, and you think Halo and Phoenix have moved to sit apart from the others as well. You had managed to sneak away easily enough, content to just sit on your own for a while, though your efforts appear to have been mostly in vain, if the man now plopped in the sand beside you is any indicator.

You blink at each other.

“What?!” you blurt out dumbly, not completely certain you really understood what he’d said. Hangman’s lips press into a thin line, and he looks away from you, linking his hands together around his knees, and staring out at the rolling waves.

“Coffee. Would you like to get one with me?” He repeats, sounding only a smidge impatient, but it still doesn't clear up much for you.

“I… No, I heard you the first time… I… I just don’t understand… why?”

Over the past three weeks you’ve been forced more out of your shell than you ever have before. It was torture. It was wonderful.

Part of you pats yourself on the back for being able to ask him so starightly, but another part of you slaps yourself in the face for questioning him.

Hangman turns to look at you apprehensively.

“Are you asking why coffee or why am I asking you?” He speaks slowly and carefully, his face blank and devoid of any hint he was teasing, though you think he might be anyway.

“Why… Why are you asking me?” You push, shuffling your feet in the sand, drawing his attention for a moment. He looks back at your face and frowns slightly, cocking his head.

“Because I like you? And that is usually what somebody does when they like someone. Ask them.” He answers, and this time you definitely get the impression he’s politely trying not to laugh, but for once, you don’t feel like you’re on the outside of the joke.

Still, you find yourself taken somewhat aback at his confession, admitted so easily and freely, as if it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, which confuses you.

“Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean.

“Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–”

“–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by. Especially when for the past three weeks you haven't been able to get rid of the odd heart skips you got whenever Hangman acknowledged your presence at all.

And besides, you weren’t blind.

Hangman was ridiculously pretty, and not anywhere near as much of an asshole as he wanted people to believe.

He looks at you blankly for a moment, processing your words, before his face breaks out in a smile. It isn’t one of his usual smirks or tauntingly pearly grins, though. It’s softer, sweeter, and you stare mesmerised as he looks away from you again quickly, and down at his linked hands, nodding.

Two days pass, and even when you’re sitting across from him in a small, niche little coffee shop you had no idea existed, you feel like you’re in a dream.

You’ve never seen Hangman out of uniform, you realise, and it’s a whole new experience you’re forced quickly to process when he stands to go get your drinks.

Dark jeans, white shirt, casual jacket. It’s a simple outfit, but goddamn does he make it look good. Nervously you have to wonder if your white and blue sundress, sneakers and bomber jacket were having the same effect on him, though you highly doubt it.

He returns quickly, attentively, placing both your coffees down, before folding himself into his chair once more. You both look at each other awkwardly before you distract yourself by taking a sip of your coffee. Hangman seems to do the same, but instead of drinking, he begins tearing into several little sugar packets, and emptying them into his coffee foam.

You huff out a tiny laugh before you can stop yourself, and his eyes quickly snap to you.

“What?” he asks defensively, but the corners of his mouth twitch.

“I just… I guess I never figured you for a sweet coffee kinda guy…”

“Oh, and why is that?” his twitching lips turn into a full smirk, but it isn’t his usual Hangman smirk. You chew on the inside of your lip, and sip your coffee once more before answering.

“I’m not sure. I guess you just don’t seem like the type of guy who…” you trail off, unsure of what exactly you’re trying to say and even more; how to say it.

“Listen, I may have rippling, glistening abdominals, but I have a sweet tooth,” he says, putting on the defensiveness now, leaning toward you and pointing at himself. You pinch your brows together and purse your lips, nodding vehemently.

“I know how to have fun,” he tells you, tipping a third sugar into his coffee.

“Of that I don’t really doubt, Hangman,” you say, but his gaze snaps back to you again, almost sharply this time.

“Jake.” he corrects you.

You pause.

Of course, you knew his first name, but you’re fairly certain you’ve never once used it. Hangman has just always been, well, Hangman. But you weren’t in a cockpit right now, he’d asked you out, this wasn’t the time and place for callsigns. He wasn’t Hangman, and you weren’t Mirage.

“Jake,” you say slowly, carefully, as if he’ll tell you any moment he’s just kidding around. But he doesn’t.

“Miri,” he replies, slow like you, but softer, and it’s silly, but it sounds so nice coming from him. You shake your head and swallow.

“Jake, if you don’t like coffee, why did you ask me out for one?” you ask him, watching as he blinks slowly at you, before his gaze slowly drops to the latte in front of him.

“If I asked you for a drink, you might’ve got the wrong idea,” he starts, speaking carefully. “If I asked you for dinner, it could be too formal, too awkward–”

“–It’s already awkward,” you point out, making him grimace slightly, so you shrug.

“Coffee just seemed like– I just wanted to–” he cuts himself off and drops both hands to the table.

“Look– I just didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding about what this was. I like you. I know you like coffee.” Jake admits all in a flurry, his voice quiet, and his eyes flickering around as he speaks.

For as long as you’ve known him, you’ve never seen Jake unable to maintain eye contact, actually it seemed to be something he took immense pride in, and it always made you slightly uncomfortable, but right now he appears completely incapable, and it's not a side of Hangman you’ve ever seen before. You realise you might be meeting Jake properly for the first time.

You decide to let him off easy, with all the newfound courage Dagger had been feeding into you the past few weeks, and you change the subject.

“You know, when you came up to me at the Hard Deck that first night, I was kinda surprised you remembered me at all,” you say slowly, sipping your coffee and eying him evenly. Jake frowns then, but it smooths out into a cool grin, and he leans back in his chair, cocking his head.

“Are you kidding? I’m always clocking possible threats.” he tells you, making you cough lightly.

“How am I a threat to you?!” you ask in disbelief.

“Oh, I could name a few,” Jake teases, nodding at you, but flicking his eyes away, almost making a show of clocking an incoming group of customers behind you.

You weren’t clueless, you knew you were a part of Dagger for a reason. You were damn good at your job, but still, Jake was Hangman, not only was he an aviator you respected, he was an aviator with very high personal standards, and for him to see you as comparable to him… well truthfully, you find yourself rather humbled.

And then flustered, at his clear unabashed flirting.

“I always thought you flirting was just you messing with me,” you admit, and he grins wider.

“Can’t it be both?” he asks, leaning forward again, and clasping his hands together. He seems to have no problem maintaining eye contact now, you note. When you cold-stare him, he simply shrugs.

“You’re cute when you get all flustered and nervous, what can I say?”

“Literally anything else.” You grumble back.

You finish your coffee and push the cup to the side, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward like he was. Jake mimics you, pushing his own coffee away, clearly with no intention to start, let alone finish it. You aren’t as good as him with eye contact though, no matter how much you’d come out of your shell, so you take the opportunity to glance sideways out the window, only for your gaze to catch on something.

Your heart thumps loudly for a moment in your ears, and you wonder briefly if you should act on the thoughts popping around your brain right now, or if you should just stay put.

You lean forward even more, and flick your eyes back to Jake who is staring at you curiously.

“Hey, I have an idea…” you start, chewing on the inside of your lip, before standing up. You only hesitate a little before offering your hand.

“You with me?” you ask without thinking, the words the same as the ones you ask time and again to your wingmen while in flight manoeuvres. Jake stares up at you for a moment, before he too stands, your heart skipping when he takes your hand. With a tiny squeeze you almost don’t notice, Jake grins, and nods.

-

“Oh, hey! Stop! That’s not fair!” You elbow Jake in the side, but it’s already too late. The hand he’d shot out to block your light gun had done its job, and where you’d previously been neck in neck for score on the dual Time Crisis cabinet, Jake’s character was now cheering in victory, while your screen was asking you to insert more coins and try again.

Jake chortles and you both slot your plastic guns back into their plastic holsters at the front of the machine.

“We never agreed to no interference,” he says proudly, and you sock him in the arm only half as hard as you can.

“I didn’t think it needed to be said!” you exclaim pointedly. Jake grins down at you, and collects his tickets.

“Quit complaining, all these are gonna go towards whatever stuffed bear or whatever the hell you want anyway.” He rolls his eyes, and gestures to the shoddy ‘rewards’ counter of the arcade you’d spotted from the coffee shop.

“I want the Minion.” You state firmly after glancing at the redemption counter for three seconds, and spotting the big ugly yellow creature on the top shelf. Jake sighs in a put-upon manner and shakes his head.

“See, this is how you know I really like you. I’m willing to ignore that,” he says, and you actually think he might be serious this time. You grin up at him as he takes your elbow, and begins leading you toward the back of the room.

“What are you going to cheat me out of kicking your ass at this time?” you glance around you, goosebumps trailing up and down your arm as Jake lets his hand slide from around your elbow, down your forearm and into your hand, which he squeezes as if in warning.

“I didn’t cheat, I simply used black ops tactics,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. You purse your lips at him and narrow your own eyes back.

“Cheat.” you say again, pronouncing each syllable deliberately.

You come to a stop then, and you look up at the old photo booth machine. Jake pulls out a fistfull of tickets, squinting his eyes at the label with instructions, before looking back over at the redemption counter. He seems to run some numbers before he looks back down at you with a grin, and waves the strings of crumpled tickets.

“My cheating means we can use the booth, and still have enough for a Kevin plush, so I don’t wanna hear no more complaining outta you,” he waggles a finger in front of your nose, and you blink up at him sheepishly.

“Jake– I don’t really want the Minion…” you say, before your voice turns suspicious. “Anyway, how do you know which one is Kevin?!” you lift an eyebrow, only for Jake to roll his eyes and push you into the curtained booth.

You orient yourself in the tiny enclosed space, looking around you as Jake takes a moment to feed several lines of win-tickets into the machine before he follows you. He’s forced to duck down real low, making the space even smaller, and you both stare for a moment at the small seat barely big enough for one person, let alone two.

“Well, either you can sit on my lap, or I can sit on yours, darlin’, but I know which one I’d prefer.” Jake intones lowly, and for the first time in an hour or so, you feel yourself get all flustered again. Honestly, you’d kind of forgotten about the explicitly romantic tone of this meeting until now, and more than that, your stomach begins to flip and flop like the first time you’d gotten in a jet when he eases past you and drops himself onto the bench before patting his thighs.

“Jake, maybe if you just move over a litt–”

“No can do, honey,” and he’s not even trying to tease you, he demonstrates the spread of his legs, and the tight fit into the booth, before looking back up at you expectantly again.

“Okay… Okay…” you say more for your own sanity than anything else, and turn, quickly perching yourself on his leg before you can really think too hard about what you're doing.

Your efforts are for naught though, because the moment you’re sat down, Jake’s hands are tugging you against him further, sitting you more comfortably on the thick expanse of his thigh, and you barely repress the noise that nearly escapes you at the feeling of his fingers digging into your hips.

“There we go, sweetheart,” he says softly, almost to himself, and moves his hands to wrap around you completely. If he notices your little noise, which by his self satisfied smirk he definitely has, he thankfully chooses not to say anything. Your face grows warm, not only at the hold he has on you but at the pet name too.

“Did you just call me ‘sweetheart’?” you ask, sounding half bewildered, half incredulous, forgetting for a moment where exactly you were and why. As you look over your shoulder at the man behind you, Jake stares back, his smirk still in place even as his eyes seem to search your face, his own expression mostly unreadable.

“Would you prefer ‘honey’?” he almost purrs, his voice distinctly amused, but you notice that he doesn’t back down, doesn’t apologise or step back.

It makes your stomach twist up in knots. It makes your heartbeat skip like a record.

You turn away from him, shake your head.

“It’s fine,” you tell him bashfully, wanting to grumble slightly when against your back you sense what you think is him puffing his chest a little. Quickly, you add: “Not at work, though…”

Jake chortles, but as you peek over your shoulder to look at him again, he’s relenting, his smirk gone and replaced with a far softer smile as he nods.

“Not at work, though.” he repeats lowly in confirmation, almost making you jump when he shifts one hand to steady you around the waist, his other reaching out to begin fiddling with the controls on the lit up screen in front of you.

“Alright, let's get this show on the road shall we?”

By the time you’re exiting the tiny cubicle, Jake’s hands still attached to your hips as he follows you out, you’re both laughing quietly to yourselves. You’re amazed to find just how much Jake can affect you, either setting you at complete ease or sending you into a tizzy, depending on what he’s said or done. Usually you wouldn’t be surprised by other people’s effects on you, you were jumpy and anxious by nature, but it was rare that somebody who put you on edge as much as Jake did, could also give you such comfort.

When he detaches his hands from your sides at last to survey the sheets of photos spat out by the booth, you marvel at how much you start to miss the contact. With all the subtlety you can muster, you inch closer to him, under the guise of getting a look at the photos as well, though really, you’re only hoping that you might prompt him into reaching out for you again.

Jake chortles and points at a set of two pictures. In one, you’re both grinning madly, pulling silly faces, and in the other, you’re wearing softer smiles, and you notice now, that Jake had pushed his face a little closer to yours. It makes heat rise in your cheeks, not just at the seeming intimacy of the photo, but truthfully, of how much you like seeing the two of you like that.

“You won’t mind if I keep these, will ya?” Jake asks, looking over at you. You simply shake your head, and he grins a little wider, carefully tearing off the two pictures before pulling out his wallet and tucking them inside, for sake keeping, you assume.

Jake lets you keep the rest, and absently, you fold them into the zipper in your purse, too distracted by the fact that he does indeed take your hand again, before quickly releasing it to instead wrap his arm over your shoulder. You can’t stop yourself from smiling a little as you blink dumbly up at him, and he grins down at you, ducking his face even closer to yours.

“Now sweetheart, I believe I was instructed to win you a minion plush.”

-

You try to avoid Phoenix’s hard stare, and focus on wiping down your helmet.

“You’re acting weird,” she finally announces, still managing to make you jump despite your anticipation. You then immediately proceed to do yourself exactly zero favours, proving her point by refusing to look up at her, choosing to instead hurriedly continue with your current task.

“What? No I’m not. I’m fine. You’re being weird,” you argue, wincing at your clearly abysmal attempts at behaving like a normal adult human. You start re-cleaning the pristine surface of your helmet, your nerves conjuring imperfections you logically know don’t exit.

Just before you completely lose yourself down the spiral of unhealthy compulsive behaviours, A hand, Nat’s hand, stops your own. Tugging the cloth out of your hands and taking your helmet away from you, she places it down on the workbench you stand on opposite sides of. Chewing your lip, you at last meet her eye.

“Miri, it’s okay to have a crush–”

“–I don’t have a crush!” You blurt out both far too quickly to be believable, as well as in sheer panic. Your face grows immediately hot, and you can tell Phoenix is trying not to laugh at the show you’re putting on so poorly. Her lips twitch, but her expression softens from amusement into something softer, mixed with traces of pity. Just when you’re starting to debate the pros and cons of sprinting out of the room, getting in your jet, and then flying away never to be seen again, she relents, releasing you from her eye contact and making herself busy as she tidies up bits and bobs littering the workbench.

You swallow thickly, and stay watching her, your heart rate only spiking higher as your anxiety builds once more at her sudden apparent indifference. You follow her movements without moving an inch, sharply aware that not only was she still very much focused solely on scrutinising you, but even more mortifyingly, that this conversation was far from being over.

“Nat,” you say with surprisingly more strudiness than you believed possible, pausing to swallow the dryness in your mouth. “I don’t have a crush, okay?” You wait for her to look back over at you, nothing but disbelief rolling off of her faux-casualty, giving you a bullshit shrug and a smile.

“Okay.” she says. You had hoped that would be enough, but you should have known better. You clear your throat again.

“Nat,” you say, only making yourself louder, as if that was a sign of nothing going on. She looks up at you somewhat blankly. You know you’re totally screwed already as her eyes dip to watch your finger begin quickly tapping on the bench before you with barely any acknowledgement from yourself. “There’s nothing weird going on,” you say, pleading with your voice and face and every atom of your being that she drops it.

She drops something, unfortunately it’s not the subject though, but you still feel some semblance of stress leaving your body as her fake lack of care dissolves, and she leans back to rest against the cabinet behind her. She crosses her arms and shrugs again while letting out a soft, pitying sigh, which this time doesn’t raise your non-existent heckles as much as it had when it first showed its face.

You stare at one another, at what you think is an impasse and wordless agreement to now never talk of this episode in your friendship ever again, but once again, you should have known better.

“If it’s any consolation, I think he has a crush on you too, so it's not like it’s a total waste of energy… despite all evidence to the contrary,” She says conversationally at first, before muttering out the last part under her breath.

“He doesn’t,” you state with so much certainty you almost forget for a moment that it’s not even a little bit true. Instead, crossing your arms too, you feel like a middle schooler having a much too serious fight with her friend at lunch. “We’ve just become closer, like all of the squad have. You’re just noticing it cause you want to!” you’re a little taken aback by the sound logic of your own reasoning, all points earned to your side then immediately becoming forfeit when you can’t help yourself from stupidly continuing to speak. “Why? Has he said something?!”

Your outburst of near-giddy excitement destroys all chances of you walking this back, and you find yourself with only one option left available. But your prior readiness to exit out of this failed interaction at roughly 300 kts/min becomes soberingly not so fun to fantasise about when you sheepishly remember the current charges against you, for the theft of the $70 million dollar military aircraft you’d technically stolen when you and Jake had taken a joy ride to pick up Mav and Rooster.

You're snapped back into the present as Natasha Trace regards you unreadably and slowly lifts one perfect eyebrow at you. You cover your face and hang your head, you reason with your now permanently mortified brain that if you just admitted to the thing she already believed to be true, she’d stop looking any closer, possibly finding out something actually secret.

It helps that your embarrassment for the flurry of extremely obvious questions is very real, and you groan into your palms. You hear before you see Phoenix laugh, listening to her chortle at your outing yourself, but you notice that he demeanour is warmer now, and she pushes herself up to sit on the top of the bench between you, crossing her legs.

“He’s not said a thing, but he doesn’t need to,” she tells you, seemingly glad to just be able to share her findings and observations, which you uncomfortably realise have been going on for a lot longer than you realised.

“It's what he’s not saying,” she explains, and you blink up at her in genuine curiosity.

“Huh?”

Phoenix turns her gaze upward as she thinks.

“He doesn’t make fun of you… or snipe at you, not really,” she begins, resting her head in her hand. “To be honest when we first met, I was expecting to defend you. You’re a good pilot, a great one, but Hangman isn’t exactly known for recognising that in others…”

You frown up at her, unsure of anything to say to abate her suspicions.

She’s not exactly wrong, even when the two of you were first stationed together, he’d never poked fun at you, never really called you out. To be fair, he hadn’t really acknowledged your presence at all, but these days you knew that was more to do with the fact that all this time, Hangman had liked you, had seen you were shy, and didn’t like crowds, and as you’d found out recently, often made more of a spectacle of himself to draw attention away from you.

You have to stop yourself from smiling dreamily at the thought of him.

“And I mean, he disobeyed direct orders for you, he knew what you were doing, and he went with you anyway… I’m just saying Miri, I don’t think you’d be disappointed if you were to say something–”

You quickly cut her off.

“I’m not saying anything to him!”

At last, given your already clear admittance of your supposed ‘crush’, Phoenix relents, holding up her hands and shrugging.

“Just think about it alright? It’s even sort of… cute, in a weird, Hangman-y way.”

You grumble at her, but thankfully she doesn’t bring it up again for the rest of the afternoon. Still, you leave the workshop with a sparkling helmet, cleaner than you think it ever has been, and with a pressing matter to relay to your boyfriend, most of which involves playing it much, much cooler in front of Phoenix the next time you all hang out.

-

You know you’ve made some personal growth when you answer the door in your matching Star Wars X-Wing PJ’s and slippers, and aren’t immediately mortified.

Jake stands there, already grinning back at you, and looking like a greek god sent to earth in his dark jeans and plain white shirt.

“Red Leader Mirage, your rescuer has arrived!” he announces, doing what you judge to be a surprising spot-on impression of Lt. Porkins from Star Wars, shooting a lazily salute down at slippers

Unfortunately, you aren’t given the chance to ask him more about his perfect Red Six however, as he’s almost immediately pushing away from where he’d been leaning against the side of your door, posing for your perusal you assume, and holds out a brown paper bag for you to take. You swipe it, and shoot him a thankful smile.

“Thank you, Jake, really…” you side-step his self-congratulatory jokes, but he doesn’t seem phased, simply shrugging, and taking a step closer to you, letting one hand rest gently on your shoulder, before he hooks it and tugs you into him.

You’d started getting all-too familiar with just how physically attentive Jake seemed to be, something you would never have guessed about him several weeks ago, but had come to terms with now. Clingy was never a word you would have used to describe him before. He hugs you briefly, then pulls back to look down at you, his brow furrowed and his expression filled with genuine concern, another thing you’d been getting more familiar with.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks, inviting himself in by walking you backwards and kicking your door closed lightly behind him. You’d come not to mind this sort of thing either, but mostly because you know if you asked him to leave again, he would, no questions asked. That was another new thing you’d been learning about Jake Seresin.

In comparison to how Hangman could be up in the sky, Jake was entirely understanding, one hundred percent supportive, and almost a little too observant when it came to your particular anxieties. It meant he often knew without you saying when to push you, and when to not, and on the occasion that you did need to say, he always respected those boundaries.

It was starting to make you nervous, how much you were growing to like him.

“Cramps are kicking my ass, but other than that, mostly fine. Thank you for these,” you try again, hoping that he really understands just how much you appreciate him coming over for you tonight. Never in your life would you have imagined feeling comfortable enough to ask Hangman to stop by the pharmacy and pick you up sanitary products, and never would you have imagined he’d make no issue of it.

“Sure,” he says, again with a shrug. “You want me to head out?” he asks then, tipping his head back at your door, even as he inches his face closer to yours, brushing his nose tip against yours. Your lips quirk, then break out into a full smile when he grins before dipping low enough to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Your stomach somersaults and pulls at least ten G’s for sure as he continues to brush his lips against yours teasingly.

This hadn’t taken much getting used to at all. Jake was a good kisser, and had proved it after your second date, almost in the exact place you were now, both his hands cupping your cheeks and his lips full on yours, hungry and insistent. That had been almost four weeks ago now, but after his hands had tugged your hips flush to his, you’d quickly put the breaks on.

You were still slightly uncertain about going further with Jake so soon. The fact was, you worked together in a high impact, high stress job, and if anything should happen between you, it would be easier to keep things professional if you took it slow

Jake had, to your slight surprise, though you aren't sure exactly what you were expecting, nodded slowly and taken a step back. He’d told you that the only thing he wanted more than you, was for you to want him too. You’d had to explain that your position wasn’t because you didn’t want him, which had led to more making out, but he hadn’t pushed to go further and he’d left that night with the affirmation that however long you wanted to wait was alright by him.

“No, you can stay,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck to stop him from pulling away too much as you try not to full-on pout. Jake smiles against your lips and presses into you further, moving to push you against the wall, where he crowds your space entirely and stops teasing you, capturing your lips with his at last.

You’re about to experimentally slide your hand up his shirt, a thought that had been lingering in your mind more and more these past few days, but your kiss is over too soon, and he pulls back, leaving you breathless.

“Weren’t you waiting for me, so you could do chores?” he prompts, nearly making you grumble. Instead you nod, and gently push back against him, heading towards your bedroom just down the main hall.

“You can wait in here if you like,” you suggest, feeling a little nervous about the idea, but it was something you’d been thinking about for a while now. Even if you and Jake weren’t sleeping together, that didn’t mean the two of you couldn’t sleep together, did it? It was something you’d wanted, specifically with him, but not really something you’d ever experienced before. You were ready to move out of these early stages of your relationship, eager to push yourself and your limits just a little, so you could settle into something more comfortable with Jake, something where you weren’t always a little surprised when he touched you, or called you by one of his innumerable pet names.

Jake shoves his hands in his pockets and nods, clearly thinking through what this invitation could mean as he follows you quietly.

“Um, I feel like I should say ‘excuse the mess’, but you know–” you cut yourself off and gesture around your bedroom when you both have entered. Jake snorts.

“Well that’s what being in the Navy gets you. I won’t judge if you say it anyway,” he tells you lightly, and you scoff.

“Yes you will!” you insist, and are met with a confident, familiar cheshire-grin.

“Mhm, but only a little. Have you changed your mind, honey?” he steps toward you again then, almost closing the distance in one stride, his hands still shoved in his pockets, but his gaze locked intently on you in a way you haven’t felt since that second date. Your heart beats so loudly you’re sure he must be able to hear, but he doesn’t mention it, just waits for you, crowding your space again.

“Oh, I– No… not… I didn’t… I’m sorry…”

The moment you speak Jake is stepping back, pulling his hands from his pockets to hold them up, his expression losing the intensity again.

“No need to apologise, my mistake.” Jake’s words are sincere, but he looks away from you.

You let out a little sigh.

“It’s just so soon, and with the trial–”

“–You don’t have to explain yourself, honey,” Jake pulls his hands from his pockets at last and places them at your waist, drawing you in. You fall quiet as he lowers his face to yours, though he teases you again by not kissing you, simply looking you over, and then smirking when you pout. “You want it when you want it, and that’s when I want it, okay?”

He makes you nod, before he at last lowers his lips to meet yours and kisses you, slow and sweet. You finally get the chance to test the waters a little, easing your hand carefully underneath the back of his shirt, making you giggle against his mouth when he jumps slightly at the feel of your skin on his. Jake doesn’t say or do anything about it though, thankfully just letting you explore a little as he tips your head back further to deepen your kiss, and you brush your fingers up his spine.

After a short while of this, he must feel the urge to tease you again, because with little to no hesitation at all, unlike you, he slips his hands beneath your shirt, his warm palms gripping onto the bare skin just above your PJ shorts, almost making you moan. You’re glad you’re able to hold back the sound, mostly, but your own surprise doesn’t go unnoticed by the blond currently kissing you.

He only continues doing so for a short minute longer, before he’s eventually pulling back, lips pink and kiss swollen. You can’t help but frown at the parting. He squeezes your waist, and nudges your nose with his own.

“What do you want to do, honey?”

You groan at the apparent lack of making out in your future, not because you don’t think he’d agree, but mostly because you’re not quite ready to ask him for more, though a part of you senses he’s not willing to let you off the hook for those chores you’d told him about earlier.

“I need to fold this laundry,” you point past him, to your walk-in wardrobe and the basket that lies within. Jake looks over at it and lifts an eyebrow, which you choose to ignore. He nods then, and takes a step away from you, making you frown even more when his hands fall from your body.

“I’ll help,” he says, making your eyes widen, and you quickly step around him to block his path, where he is clearly about to make for your basket.

“No! Um… It’s okay, It’ll be easier if I just do it…” you trail off, wondering if you sound insane and neurotic, but Jake simply raises his hands again and nods.

“Well, what do you want me to do?” he prods, and you realise, he’s come inside thinking you want him to help with your chores.

“I was thinking… I was thinking it might just be nice for you to just… be here?” You cringe, and narrowly avoid making a face at yourself. Jake blinks at you as if he doesn’t understand.

“You want me to… sit around while you do laundry?” he asks, tone confused, but equally unimpressed. You nod. Jake shifts, then clicks his tongue. “I was not raised to let somebody work while I sit and watch, especially not my girl. My mother would tan my hide.”

You’re a little surprised by the seriousness on his face, despite the humorous inflection in his voice. You suck in a breath, mulling over how to explain to him what you had been thinking when he came inside. Jake’s eyes flicker over you for a moment before he shifts again, crossing his arms and lifting his chin at you.

“Alright sweetheart, just say what you gotta say, I can hear those cogs turning from here…”

“I… I like that you want to help me, I think that’s really sweet…”

“But…?” Jake prompts.

“I find this kinda thing hard, and I was hoping we could just try and do something… domestic…? Together?” your face goes hot at your admission, and when Jake doesn’t immediately respond you wonder if using the word ‘domestic’ was too much, too soon.

“What is ‘this kind of thing’? I get the other part honey,” again, his voice is playful, but you see the seriousness behind his eyes and it lends you even more comfort. How is he so good at this? It’s almost like he’d read your teenage diary entry all about your perfect guy… it's the sort of attention, care, and behaviour that you’ve never actually gotten from a guy you were seeing before, so you aren’t really sure how to compose yourself.

“This kind of thing,” you gesture between you and him, before clearing your throat. “I don't know what to call it– us, but–”

“–a relationship.” Jake cuts in firmly, and you pause, heart thumping. You hadn't actually had this discussion yet, but you guess you’re having it now.

“Right. I mean, I’ve been in relationships before, but they’ve never really worked out and I feel like I never get to the point with boyfriends where I feel fully comfortable, so I–” you clamp your mouth shut, both at the use of ‘boyfriend’, and at the fact you were rambling, and you’re pretty sure it's too early to start telling him about how all your prior relationships failed.

“Right. So, let me get this straight; you were going to come back in here and put your laundry away, regardless of me being here?” Jake holds up a hand as he repeats back the information.

“Yeah…”

“And you just want me to keep you company?”

You nod, and clear your throat.

“Yeah.”

Jake stares at you, a level of understanding crossing his face, before his eyes flick to your laundry behind you, then back to your face.

“... And you’re sure I can’t help you?” His resolve sounds weak, and you think he’s already made up his mind to do as you asked, but his upbringing requires him to triple check. You smile, and this time step toward him, gingerly resting your hand on his arm, which he immediately raises, and flips, sliding it so now you’re holding his hand.

Again, you can’t fathom how he got so good at this sort of thing. Your knees go wobbly.

“I have a bunch of lacy unmentionables in there, so…” you try to lighten things, but it's not a lie. Jake picks up what you’re putting down, and gives your hand a squeeze. He tips his chin at you and lifts an eyebrow.

“Now why’d you have to go and say that honey? You sure you’re certain I can’t help?” his hands slip from yours to rest at your hips again, completely bypassing your top this time and your heart stutters.

You bite your lip, and nod your head, trying not to laugh him off fully, because while that may be your instinctual nervous reaction, you didn’t want to discourage him entirely. You liked that Jake acted as if you were a pretty girl, like you were desirable, and not like the awkward dork you actually were. You didn't want him to stop doing that.

His expression turns a little softer, and he leans down, moving slowly as to give you time to process, and he presses his lips to your cheek, lingering for just a moment before he taps your sides with his fingers, then steps away.

You’re still catching your breath when he looks back at you, pointing at what looks like one corner of your bed.

“Can I?”

You nod, and gesture at the whole mattress.

“Make yourself comfortable!”

–

You can feel the pounding music of the club in your whole body. The lights flashing and dancing in different colourways in time with the music give everything around you an ever changing aura, and maybe it’s all the drinks you’ve had tonight, but in front of you, Natasha seems to glow.

Her hands grasp your forearm firmly and you giggle, uncharacteristically carefree as you almost slip again.

“Alright! Okay, let's get you seated!” she says. She’s had a few too, but not nearly as many as you, and you’re glad for it now as she steers you toward the bar and grabs a paper cup to fill with water from the nearby water station toward the end. You find yourself drinking it without prompting, but miss the taste of the fruity cocktails you’d been downing all night. “I’ll call us a cab,” she says, beginning to pull out her phone, but you hastily stop her, placing a hand on her arm and shaking your head rapidly, making the colours spin even more.

“No! My boyfriend said he’d pick us up!” you insist, ignoring the way her eyebrows shoot up, then stitch together.

“You boyfriend?” she asks, but you miss the real question behind her words, instead you simply nod, and begin to fumble around in your own purse until you find your phone. Nat watches you expectantly as you open your messages, quickly tapping ‘call' on the top icon, and pressing the phone to one ear, and your finger to the other.

It rings less than once before it connects.

“Heeyy!” you sigh in relief down the line, happy to even just hear his voice after all night going without. “Yeah, no, everything’s alright, you just said to call you when we were done!” you say in reply to his amused questioning. You look up at Nat briefly, and if you were more sober, you might’ve been able to tell that she was leaning in slightly to try and hear the voice on the other end, but you aren’t, so you don’t.

“Okay, I’ll meet you out front!” you tell him excitedly, before adding on; “Is it okay if we give Nat a ride home too?” there's a short reply, and at last you’re smiling wide and nodding, even though he can’t see you. “Okay, we’ll see you soooon!”

You hang up and stare back up at Natasha, who's giving you a funny look that you ignore. “He said he’ll be here in ten, he’s been at the sports bar in town waiting!” you tell her dreamily, like she might understand what it means to you that Jake would choose to remain only a short distance away in case you needed anything, in the knowledge that you didn’t always enjoy nights out like this.

Nat simply nods and after making you drink one more glass of water, you begin making your way through the crowds and out of the club.

The air outside is warm, but refreshing and you take in as much of it as you can, not realising how stuffy the air inside the club had been until now. It was getting late, and bars and restaurants around the club are lit up and busy, the streets all around full of people either on their way to their destination, or lingering as they talk.

It doesn’t take long for you to spot Jake’s car and he pulls up close to the curb, allowing you to beeline for the passengers side door, not realising that Natasha follows with more confusion and trepidation. Jake jumps out of the car to greet you, rounding it to quickly steady your wobbly walk with a hand on your hip, and with the other, he pulls open the car door and helps you inside, leaning in to help you buckle in, grinning even as he murmurs quietly.

“You had a good night, sweetheart?” he asks, clicking your seatbelt into place for you, making you giggle at him. You lean forward for a kiss, but he dodges you, somewhat more aware than you are of your present company, and instead rests his hand so he can squeeze your knee. Your good mood isn’t spoiled and you barely notice the dodged kiss, so you simply nod your assent to his question vehemently.

“I had a lot to drink!” you tell him, before bursting out into giggles again, the soft, sweet smile Jake gives you going unnoticed as he squeezes your leg again.

“Yes you did,” he says with clear, fond amusement, and at last moves back so he can shut your door.

Unlike you, on the other hand, Natasha may as well be sober as a judge, and she eyes Jake somewhat distrustfully as she steps closer, lifting her chin up at him as she talks.

“What’re you doing here?” she asks accusingly, making Jake cock his head at her, only half as annoyingly as he can. He gestures back at you in the front seat of his car.

“Miri called, sounded pretty hammered,” he tells her as if that explained it. Natasha narrows her eyes and crosses her arms.

“Yeah, but she said she was calling her boyfriend, what’re you doing here?” She dares him to reply with anything but the truth, however luckily for Jake, unlike most men caught in her crossfire, he’s able to brush her off with an infuriating grin.

“I guess she dialled the wrong number, do you want a lift home or not?”

At his ultimatum (however hollow it really is, he wouldn’t leave her on her own in the middle of the night), Natasha frowns darker at him, but accepts the door he opens, waiting for her to get settled before he closes it behind her and returns to the driver's side.

When Jake checks his rearview he notes in amusement that Nat has situated herself in the middle seat, giving herself a perfect view of the two of you in the front. You don’t, nor do you seem to have any weariness in the bloodhound you’ve just set upon the both of you, but if he’s honest, Jake had known from day one that the second Natasha Trace suspected anything, your little secret was over.

He drives back as normally as he can, but it's strange to him now to have you sitting right there in his passenger's seat, and not have his hand in yours, or on your thigh. It’s strange to him to be in this space where the two of you are usually so open with your affection, and have to suppress it. Jake does not like it.

The car ride home is quiet, you seem content to look out the window, the tiredness hitting you now, but every so often he and Nat make small talk about whatever football scores interested them in the past week or two, and before too long, he’s pulling up outside her home.

Looking over at you to find that you’re slumped over asleep on his window, Jake follows Natasha out of the car with a simple offer of making sure she gets in alright. The congeniality doesn’t last very long, and once they’re standing on her porch she turns to him with a frown.

“You don’t really think I’m that stupid, do you?” she asks, for once not sounding angry or scolding, but seemingly subdued, maybe even a little upset. Jake sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Looking back to his car to make sure you’re still alright, he levels his squadmate with a serious expression.

“No, I do not,” he tells her sincerely. “But it’s Miri’s choice to not want to be public yet, all I’m asking is that you respect that,” he goes on after a moment. He doesn’t really believe she would say anything, but he feels the need to get her agreement, if only for your peace of mind in the morning.

Nat hums to herself and briefly looks away to fish out her keys. Once she has them in hand, she looks up at him again, a little grin on her face this time.

“How long?” she asks. Jake rolls his eyes and can’t resist the urge to mess with her just a little.

“Few years,” he states matter of factly, waiting for her eyes to pop wide before he lets out a victorious laugh and shakes his head. “A month or two,” he admits truthfully, accepting the hard sock in the arm as Nat scoffs at him and moves to unlock her front door.

“Something, something, I’ll kick your ass if you hurt her,” she grumbles as she steps inside, immediately kicking off her shoes. Jake straightens up and gives her a mock salute.

“Yes Ma’am,” he says, chortling to himself as he receives a middle finger for his efforts and the door is closed and locked again.

Jake feels a little lighter on his walk back to his car, and when he climbs in, he leans over to carefully adjust your crooked neck and make sure your belt is still strapped properly. You wake a little, confused at first, and blink up at him in happy wonderment.

“Hey!” you mumble, like it's the first time you’ve seen him tonight. Jake chuckles and leans closer to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Let’s get you home baby.”

–

You awake the next morning with nowhere near the headache you’re expecting, but with an array of distinct memories that cause a pit to open up in your stomach. The pit then begins to growl as you register the warm, homey smell of food, and with little effort, you force yourself up and into the kitchen, where you immediately attach yourself to Jake’s bare back.

His skin is warm and feels so comfy against your cheek, and the soft little laugh he gives makes your belly flop around. He lets you stay like that for a few moments more, moving slowly but smoothly so you can move with him, and at last when whatever he’s doing with his hands is finished, he reaches around for you and rests his hands where he can.

“Did I really call you last night? While with Nat?” you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping you’d just imagined it all, but another soft chuckle lets you know you hadn’t.

“Never thought you’d be the one to let our little secret slip first. I underestimated you baby.”

You groan into his back, and try to hide your face, but before you can complain or dodge him, Jake has turned himself around, letting you instead smoosh your face in between his gloriously golden pecs, and you think things may not be so bad.

He wraps his arms around you properly, and for a moment you just stay like that. You wonder if you can convince him to come around shirtless more often, the warmth radiating off his skin feeling heavenly, not to mention he looked almost as delicious as the food he’d made. You wonder if he’d already worked out this morning, or if you can join him after breakfast.

One of Jake’s hands moves away from your back and cups the back of your head tenderly, making you mewl slightly, and you look up at him to give the attention you know he’s asking for. Jake stares down at you with a soft little grin, and readjusts himself slightly, so he’s able to drop his lips to meet yours briefly.

One kiss becomes two kisses, becoming three kisses and after that any semblance of chastity is given up on and he kisses you full and sweet, deliberately slow like he’s teasing you to ask for more, but for now you’re simply content to wash away all of last nights worries like this.

Coming up for air, Jake barely breaks apart from you, his lips still brushing yours when he speaks.

“I asked Nat not to say anything, she respects you enough to do that I think,” he says, dropping a few more soft kisses to your mouth when you crane your neck up for more. He goes no further this time, though, and leans back from you to gauge your reaction after several moments, and you force yourself to open your eyes and pout.

“It’s not that I think she’ll tell anyone…” you say to him, scrunching up your features as you recall your lack of playing it cool the first time she had brought Jake up to you. The memory makes you grumble to yourself, and you once more attempt to hide your face in his chest. Jake laughs, and makes you jump when he pokes your side.

“What is it?” he asks, like he already knows. You tell him, voice muffled in his skin, but clear enough for the details of your embarrassing inability to throw the scent off to be heard. Jake’s body shakes with more laughter as you relay the information, but instead of trying to make you stop hiding away, he simply cups the back of your head again, and holds it nearer, allowing you to wither your embarrassment away in the safety of him.

“I think we both know that the minute that woman suspected anything, it was game over,” he tells you once you’re done, still holding you close, but you feel his lips press to the top of your head sweetly, and you do your best to snuggle yourself closer.

After the bulk of your mortification has eased away, Jake makes you detach from him, but only so the two of you can eat your breakfast while it’s still hot.

“You know I don’t want to keep it quiet, like, forever, right?” you ask out of nowhere, your memories of last night replaying over in your head while you ate. Jake looks up at you and cocks his head.

“I’m happy to do whatever you’d like to do, for as long as you’d like to do it,” he says matter of factly, but despite the sweetness of his words, you can’t help but frown at him.

“No you’re not, and we both know it,” you push back, grateful for his always tender manner of going at your pace, but you’d likely never have been with him in the first place if he hadn’t thrown you out of your comfort zone that first time.

The only difference is, now you are with Jake, and you understood these things about yourself, and how they weren’t always as scary as your mind might make them seem. Jake frowns back at you, clearly ready to protest.

“I know you pretty well too, you know,” you cut him off. “I know you like PDA, and that you wish you were able to be more open when we’re out with people. I know you like to show off, and part of that includes me,” you tell him adamantly, because you know you’re right.

Jake huffs out a sigh and leans back in his chair, looking at you dead on, you know him well enough to know he’s a little annoyed at you calling him out, but you aren’t doing it to annoy him or just for the sake of starting an argument.

“Okay, so what if I do? That doesn’t change the fact that until you want something, I’m not gonna go for it,” he says, still frowning at you like he doesn’t understand what the point of talking this through is even about.

You change tack and, with your heart beat thumping a little wildly, get up from your seat and move toward him. Even in his annoyance, Jake makes room for you, pushes out his chair and wraps his arms around your waist when you seat yourself on his thigh, your own arms linking around his neck.

“Well maybe I’m giving you permission to go for it,” you say softly, quietly, because the idea still does make you incredibly nervous. But you like Jake, no scratch that, you think you’re in love with Jake, and you think he’s in love with you too, and something about that feeling for once in your life makes you want the same things he does too, including the PDA. You want him to sling his arm around your neck, you want to be able to kiss his cheek or hold his hand or whatever it is you two want to do, not just in the comfort of your own homes, but out at the Hard Deck with your friends, too.

Jake blinks up at you, like at first your words don’t even register, but then he’s tightening his hold around your waist, and grinning wolfishly up at you, all cocky and infuriating if you didn’t find it utterly charming. If you didn’t completely adore him, even this part.

“Permission granted, Lieutenant?” he asks mischievously, and you can’t stop yourself from giggling, like you’re drunk all over again.

“Permission granted, Lieutenant!”

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #hangman x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic #jake hangman seresin #top gun fanfiction

[damianbugs]

Don't we all just love it when EVEN IF A FICWRITER portraits Talia as positive character AND shows Damian's trust and calmness when talking to her (in the fic he's always scared around the others - Bruce, Tim, etc.), people just can't accept it and keep see her as horrible IN THE FIC. Just why?..... 😭Like, we're not even talking about Morrison's canon, we're literally only talking about tHE FIC. READERS, WHY.

sorry, just screaming because you seem to be upset with Talia treatment too.

it is racism and misogyny my friend 😔 fandoms with white male dominated characters tend to be ignornant as a given, but the batfamily fandom specifically has a very big issue when it comes to how brown and black characters are perceived. i'll stick to just talking about talia in this, but it applies to other characters too.

talia gets double the horrible press because not only is she a person of colour, but also a woman of colour. like you said, comic writers (read: GRANT MORRISON) established this horrific characterisation of her and for many years the other stories followed this and it rewrote her entire personality. thankfully, more recent comic writers (read: ram v ❤️) are tackling this and rewriting her already rewritten character — but i am afraid the damage is already done. this is only made worse by the animated movies and shows ALSO adopting this version of talia as their base character.

now when it comes to fics you get two terrible outcomes: people who only know morrisons talia and write her based on those comics, or the more often seen, people who don't read comics but read fics written with morrison talia and assume this is how she has always been. then there's the third more sinister thing of people who Know this characterisation is racist and ooc, but use it anyway because it gives way for them to write whump and angst about one of the sad pathetic white boys.

this creates what you mention about readers who for some reason only accept this HEAVILY CRITICISED characterisation and RETCONNED actions and refuse to see her as anything more than the evil brown lady. especially when it comes to damian fics, she is often written as this caricature of stereotypes in order to highlight how his white american family "saved" him from his abusive uncivilised middle-eastern family. the ignorance and racism is very poorly hidden when you say it how it is.

i give people the benefit of the doubt, because yk, sometimes they honestly don't know the racism and microaggression that was put into her rewrite and they're not aware of who she was before grant morrison got their claws into her. they're just ignornant and not educated on this topic, and thats not their fault.

but once readers and writers ARE aware of this and continue to perpetuate it — then they're just as racist and misogynistic as the rest of them 🤷🏾‍♀️

#karma will get them all eventually dont worry about it #talia al ghul #dc meta

[whochromatic]

I must not read chapter 109 and wait for the chapters to pile up.. I must not read chapter 109 and wait for the chapters to pile up.. I must...

*reads it anyways*

Why did I do that. Damnit, I should've known that reading that chapter would have re-activated my need for more. I was way better off ignoring anything related to Yohaji and just went about my day, not thinking about Yohaji every minute of the hour of the day of the week. But the damage has been done. Now I have to read the whole manga all over again just to satisfy myself once again. But no. That's not enough. I searched every corner to hunt every single content of Yohaji. Tumblr. Twitter. Youtube. Tiktok. Ao3. Our lord and savior Canada's account. The giver of reason in life, one who resurrects the dead, the sailor uniform to my life, Tanamai-sensei's account. I know that the Yohaji content in this world is not enough and will NEVER be. The moment I discovered this manga, I knew that it would be my life. The fact that it had only reached me last year, ber month is unforgivable. Why did it not have content as many as the amount of numbers there are to exist so that it could reach me at the start of it's existence? It should have been Yohaji. Not BNHA! Nothing against that anime by the way. Well, I am grateful that I stumbled upon Yohaji while it had 100+ chapters though. And the fandom being small enough to only have nice and cool people in it. But those fics in ao3 though? Why- I mean, I don't really care or pay attention to them but the fact that the amount of nsfw fanfics is probably (I'm saying probably because they might just be more) equal to the amount of sfw fanfics in there is- I swear, WHY ARE THERE SO LITTLE FANFICS OF YOHAJI?! 3 PAGES?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!? There might be more in other places but I only read in ao3 and Tumblr if I find some there. I'm so thankful for the translators though!!! I love y'all. I love the fandom. I love the characters. I love Yohaji. I love the creator. God- sorry I forgot I can't use sensei's name in vain. I'm telling y'all, Tanamai is the GOAT. A GENIUS!! Your brain is beautiful. What goes on in head yours? Tell and everyone might gain more braincells. What's with you? What's with your humor?? What's with your lore?! WHAT'S WITH YOUR ART??? WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?!?! SENSEI WHEN I CATCH YOU OHH WHEN I CATCH YOU. But of course, it's not your fault that I'm starving for more Yohaji chapters. One month is nothing to me- IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!!! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO CREATE THIS WONDERFUL AND HEAVENLY HOOK THAT CAUGHT ME EVEN ONLY WITH IT'S TITLE AND ART?? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO MEEEE?!?! Senseiiiiii*sob* waaaaaahh... Still, I'm sooo happy this is getting an anime this year!! I've been waiting for this ever since I found out it existed along with other Yohaji fans. I knew it would happen soon enough because it's the law. It's a crime to not make an adaption of amazing yet weird yet amazing manga like no other. Death row. DEATH ROW!! It's fine even if it's low quality. As long as it exists, I can finally pass on peacefully- when it airs it better be as good as the manga and look immaculate, I'm telling you. Haha, just kidding. Or am I..? I cannot wait until April or whatever how long it takes for the anime to air just please. Please even the trailer only. But I'm sure everyone is already working hard to make the anime for it. Do your best!! You're doing the right thing! And.... uhm.. 24 episodes... please..? AHHH HARUAKI'S SMILEEE!!! IT'S INVADING MY MIND!! GET OUT! PLEASE GET OUT!!! THIS LOWLY UNGRATEFUL UNDESERVING WORSE THAN DUST BUZZ BUZZ KILLABLE STUPID MORTAL ABOMINATION CAN'T HANDLE OR DESERVE SOMETHING LIKE THAT!! AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! I can't do this. More. More. More Yohaji. I NEED IT. IF AIR AND SAILOR UNIFORM IS LIFE THEN SO IS YOHAJI!! RAAAAAAAHHH

Also I accidentally deleted a longer version of this and rewrote it with my memory. Thanks for wasting your time on this like I did.

#yohaji #youkai gakkou no sensei hajimemashita #terrified teacher at ghoul school #I'm fine #But not finer than YOHAJI SENSEI AND THE FANDOM-

[sweetmariihs2]

🪄Cedric The Sorcerer headcanons🔮💫

*it's a big post and the headcanons are pretty diverse*

I lost half of this post because Tumblr didn't save it, then I rewrote it and even continued to write a little more, but again Tumblr deleted everything and returned to the first version of the post. I spent from midnight until 5:40 am writing this and I simply lost the text. I rewrote everything again :) I literally cried out of frustration, the post was almost done

I found some parts in my cell phone "área the transferência" (that thing when you copy a text and the last things you copied remain there), I tried to organize it and rewrite everything that I lost, but I still feel like there's something missing.

Edit: I fixed some grammar errors. I know there's more, but I couldn't find it. English is not my main language!!

Cedric's unhealthy habits (before Sofia entering the castle and after) and how he deals with his insomnia

I don't know if this counts as headcanon since it's practically canon, but I believe that Cedric is not very healthy, he has a very unbalanced sleep schedule, he doesn't eat well and he doesn't exercise. The things he does most all day are preparing spells and potions, and reading.

I think a lot about what pre-Sofia Cedric was like. I think his habits were even worse, and he was even more bitter and antisocial. He had a terrible posture and was always tired and moody, had dark circles due to lack of sleep. I also believe that there moments quite constantly where his vision would go dark and he would suddenly become weak. He always seemed sick and pale, quiet, and when he interacted he made mistakes in front of everyone and everyone saw him as an idiot, weird-looking guy. Sofia brought him some motivation (getting the amulet of Avalor) and that's why he seemed more active and minimally healthier after she arrived. Maybe before he was just very tired and was hopeless of gaining the recognition of the people in the castle, but after finding a chance in the amulet, he became more motivated and active.

He stays up all night reading and making potions (even Wormwood sleeps more than him), only to leave his tower in the morning to get breakfast trying to act invisible, so that no one sees his presence there, and so they don't ask him to do anything he doesn't want to do.

For context: I believe that breakfasts at the castle are like hotel breakfasts, a room full of food where everyone can take what they want and leave without having to pay anything at all. This goes for all meals and the royal family has their own dining room, because of course, they are the royal family.

I imagine both pre-sofia and during-sofia Cedric staying up all night reading and passing his time, only to go get his breakfast early in the morning (he hasn't eaten since about 10 hours ago, and his last snack was a jam sandwich) and having to face everyone in the castle together in the same hall walking everywhere, trying to act as unremarkable as possible, to prevent anyone from bothering him (it's very easy to notice him, he's the only one who wears a black robe and walks like that. no one just cares enough to notice him there). And then Baileywick appears full of information and orders sent directly by the king, while Cedric rolls his eyes and replies exhausted that he will do it (his attempt to hide failed).

I can imagine him (mostly pre-Sofia Cedric) going to the kitchen at night to get some snacks, and he knows he won't go to breakfast in the morning because something humiliating happened to him at his last meal and he refuses to face all those people publicly again.

Pre-Sofia Cedric constantly forgot to eat because of his work and when he did eat, it was never healthy food. He was hungry and starting to feel weird because his last meal was 10 hours ago? He's gonna get just a piece of apple pie.

Pre-Sofia Cedric didn't had the energy to do his own tasks, let alone useless favors for James and Amber or entertain the king's parties. Today he can do this easily, as he is a little healthier (and more motivated) but before it was a sacrifice. What always kept him busy were the tasks he set out to do himself, such as reading magic books he hadn't yet specialized in, making potions he hadn't yet made to add them to his collection (if he ever needs them). As I said, today he does that easily, because his health is a lot better, and he can balance it with his other tasks and practicing his hobbies or taking care of himself, even spending time with Sofia.

Pre-Sofia Cedric definitely deals with insomnia (till this day) and the vast majority of the time he doesn't sleep through the night, to the extent that many in the castle are already aware that Cedric is a night owl and is always awake, no matter how late it is. This is why he sometimes takes naps in the afternoon, but this only happens when he is so exhausted that his eyes can barely stay open, sleeping for 1h30 only to stay awake for another 22h without breaks. Now that his habits are a little less unhealthy than before (they're still bad) he sleeps maybe 3-4 hours per night. But he still need to take naps during the day and yes some nights he doesn't sleep at all, it's just not as often as before.

I think that during the nights when he can't sleep he stares at the moon from his window, or goes out of his tower to take a walk in the garden, or even in the castle. There's something so comforting in staying up late. During the day there's people everywhere, conversations happening, events where someone needs his help. During the night everything is silent and he can have his own moment, there's no people to disapprove him or order him to do something he doesn't want to do. Cedric is definitely a night person.

There's a book that I like that I won't give too many details about, but there's a character who simply doesn't sleep at night and the entire staff from the establishment is used to it. She is a patient in a mental hospital, all the patients are sleeping, and she just stays in the living room, because everyone has already accepted that she doesn't sleep, that's a fact. She spends her time reading, smoking, painting her nails, sometimes talking to the nurses. I imagine the dynamic is similar, but the difference is that Cedric is a little more antisocial. Everyone knows that he doesn't sleep and they couldn't care less about it.

(Cedric fanfiction dating a maid he met during the nights he was walking through the castle because he couldn't sleep???? Hell yes. Late night talks in that giant castle, everything is silent besides the echo of their voices in the halls and their footsteps, knowing that unlike the day, the night is very calm and they can rest in peace, without worrying about obligations. Talking in whispers 👀 silent kisses omg)

I can totally imagine him encountering Sofia at late night just walking in the castle, and he's just like "Sofia? Why are you awake?" Because he's usually the only person who stays up that late (except for some guards and maids). And then she tells him she can't sleep so that's why she's not in her room. They spend some time talking to eachother about how everything is being so overwhelming recently.

He doesn't know how to deal with his new life, now that everyone seems to praise him as a good sorcerer and that he saved Sofia's life. He loves the fact that he's finally being recognized, but it's just something he's not used to. Sometimes when people are telling him about how amazing his spells are, or the King tells someone about how good is his royal sorcerer, or his new fame on the kingdom. He was treated badly so many times that everything seems so unreal. It makes him wonder if he really deserves everything that is happening, or if people are really telling the truth. (And I say this based in my own experience, that feeling is so real)

What if some citizen girls are screaming his name in royal parades or when he goes to the village? He has a fanclub now???? People want to date HIM??? And he just smiles and waves because he just doesn't know how to react to all of this, and the girls starts to scream out of happiness or some of them pass out and he goes "Oh no... my bad.. i'm sorry :(". Even younger girls that are really too young for him, that's certanly something he wasn't expecting to happen. Baileywick makes fun of him saying that he's such a heartbraker now, Cedric rolls his eyes.

Hey that looks like a good one shot prompt (after his redemption arc), a witch who admires him a lot because of what she heard about him finally gets the chance to live in the castle (because of other circunstances), and now she has the chance to meet Cedric. And Cedric is surprised by how she treats him like he was some kind of hero, because only he knows the humiliations he went through.

Pre-Sofia Cedric usually watched the balls from the window of his tower instead of participating with them. He didn't felt welcomed, and even if he was indeed there, people would just stare at him like he's some kind of ghost or a disgrace and his night would be terrible. He was invited, obviously, all the castle's employees are, but he would never fit in there. He felt sad, excluded at some point, alone- but all his sadness turned into bitterness as he watched all those royals, riches and other employees of the castle having fun and partying, like he was supposed to do. Cedric would only make a fool out of himself if he ever thought about stepping there, and he didn't needed to! He didn't wanted to go anyways! Or at least that's what he told himself...

Cedric's love life (+how he views love and his past experiences)

I actually made a headcanons post about who his first love may be: Queen Lorelei. That's not a really popular headcanon but I'm not the first person to talk about it, and once you read about the subject you'll see that it's actually a pretty nice headcanon, so give it a try.

Cedric doesn't believe in "true love", "love at first sight", "true love kiss" (until it's his turn to experience that). Well he does, because there's magic about it, there are many stories of princesses that just had their happy ending because of a true love kiss and everything, there are many spells and curses where love is involved. But he thinks romantic people are so naive, they live for love like there's nothing else in their lives that it's better to do. He has work to be done, you know? People say "mimimi true love" and he just slightly rolls his eyes and huffs (when deep inside he wish he was one of these people. Oh to have someone to love). But when he's in love he's lovesick and can't think about anything else just like those he found irritating. Such hypocrite.

But when he suffers a love frustration (like that one with Sasha) he realizes again that love is irritating and his previous thoughts return. But deep inside he knows that they're not true, he's just bitter because he's single.

HE'S BISEXUAL !!1!1!1!!1!111!1!1!!!!1!!!!1!1

But he doesn't know that this actually has a name so it's more like, he just experiences his feelings and just know that they're feelings, that's all

I believe that during most of his life he only had girl crushes, and it didn't happened that often because he wasn't used to be really focused on anyone. These girls crushes happened when he was a kid to when he was a teenager. But during his young-adult years he started to notice that sometimes he found some masculine traits atractive. At first he was really confused by that, because he thought he liked only woman, but apparently no. Nowadays he already understands how he feels and just treats it normally.

He doesn't like to talk about his love life (he gets nervous sharing such intimate information about himself with people)(and he is single which makes the situation even worse, being in his 30s without someone) and then everyone assumes that he only likes women, and that he's naturally a bachelor because it is what it is. No one is interested in a weird old guy like him. (I am)

Imagine a group of maids talking to eachother in the kitchen while doing their tasks and mentioning "what about that royal sorcerer? he's always lonely. I don't think he has a lover or something, or else we would know" and the other one mentions "he's too scary to get along with anyone. not exactly scary, but he's weird, very slender, always crawling around. I highly doubt any lady would want to have anything to do with him."

(Bonus points if someone put a similar scene in that Cedric x maid character fic, and our protagonist is just silently infiltrated among them knowing that she was kissing him last night, and she responds to them "don't be so hard on him, he's not that bad. he is actually very polite." And the rest of the maids just react like "hmmmm very polite sure girl what else do you have to tell us? Are you hiding something? Do you know something that we don't?")

Cedric doesn't talk much about his romantic interests, implying to everyone else that he doesn't care (which is true), but it's also because he gets nervous about sharing this information. That's why the few people who silently wonder about it just assume that he just likes woman, because he never tells anyone about being interested neither in woman neither in man. And he also avoids talking about it because needs to admit out loud that he is a 3_ year old man and that he's single, and he doesn't want to put himself through this humiliation. The best thing to do is worry about his spells, he's too busy to talk or to think about that. (Deep inside wishing he had someone)

He's like that single uncle for Sofia. You know, a variation from the "cats aunt" and instead he's the "spells uncle". Absolutely no bitches, but his shelf is full of potions and books. Single uncle Cedric!!!!!!!!! (He hates it)

I think he had many crushes in his life but never really had the oportunity to date someone, or this person wasn't interested, or he was too dedicated in his studies. Imagine a younger him in his teenage days (or even in his childhood) really liking someone but too embarassed to say anything. Or when he goes to the person he tries to start a conversation but then his mentor just goes like "no we don't have time for this, you need to train now" and pulls him to practice his spells again. He never had the chance to date anyone, and even if he said something to the person, this person probably would make fun of him because of his reputation in the school.

That makes me wonder if he ever had any past lovers or if he didn't even had the oportunity because everyone saw him as a loser. Teenage Cedric occupies my mind longer than I'd like to admit

I think that the idea of him having past lovers is nice, but at the same time it doesn't fit very well for some reason? Imagine him talking to Sofia "Oh... ___.... she was my first love... I wonder how her life is going today" after she asked "Mr Cedric have you ever loved someone?"

Actually I think he would say first "Sofia, what kind of question is that? Um.. I don't know, I mean... there was a person, but it was a long time ago... her name was ___...."

I never told you guys but I write fanfiction too (top 10 useless facts) and I never wrote for Cedric

I have a big question for you rn: do you guys think he's a virgin? 👀 I think it makes sense actually

His way of flirting is compliments and acts of service. He would never, in the first option at least, directly show interest with phrases like "are you single?", "you're really cute." He would be extremely gentlemanly, he would offer the way for his romantic interest to pass, he would open doors, pull out chairs, offer his arm for his "lover" to hold. Everything would be very subtle, as he wouldn't hit on their romantic interest, but instead would be extremely polite, interested in their company, things that would make them say "Oh, thank you so much, you're such a gentleman" and he would just blush and smile. And he would absolutely say "We are courting", rather than any other word. He would ask their permission to start treating it like this, something like "Can I court you from now on? I understand if you don't want to."

It's easy to make him flustered since he has no romantic experience. Even a simple question about his love life can make him nervous. And if it's a crush who's responding to his light flirtations he becomes very giggly. Even a small crush can have him in their hands.

He certainly has a thing for confident woman (they can make him stutter and feel nervous pretty easily). You know those woman who have that strong feminine energy? His legs get all wobbly.

But he likes delicate girls too. He just needs to assume a different role in the supposed relationship they would have, and his treatment would be more responsible and more chivalrous.

In my opinion, his tastes are the exact opposites. He likes feminine woman, the most confident and mature ones (like Sascha) and the most delicate and sweet ones. But for men he likes very masculine men, who are more than himself, like strong guys, or even, in not so extreme cases, just someone who's similar to him but who has a more confident and mature attitude, that knows what he's doing. Because Cedric constantly feels like he doesn't know, that he's very insecure, so when he sees someone attractive and confident, he gets all nervous and giggly, and offers his services.

I think he would like chancellor Esteban from Elena Of Avalor tbh. Guys like him

Oh my god

Cedric's academic life and his young years

What reputation you may ask? I think he always was like this, being nervous and making mistakes. During that episode where him and Sofia go to Hexley Hall, nobody seems surprised by his failures. Not even in "The Day Of The Sorcerers" episode. Everyone is too familiarized with him being a failure and I think he was bullied in school because of that (most specifically when he was a teenager)

Was he always shy and insecure in front of everyone, or he was dedicated to his studies and when people said "hey let's do something together?" He responded with "I can't, I need to study" and this person just said "omg you're always studying, you have no life don't you?"

"I need to study so I can get better and better everyday", just like he said in his song during the episode "Substitute Cedric"

He can't concentrate if there's too much noise. Imagine him doing a test and he just can't read the paper because there's someone behind him banging their wand on the table and this makes him fail the test. "Ok class, we're going to have a practice test this time, Cedric please turn this feather into glass" and when he was about to make it someone made a bad comment about expecting him not being able to do the spell and because of that he turns the feather into mud, and everybody laughs. People in the school know him as a failure too because this kind of thing always happened.

I found this on pinterest:

That's why if one day he confess his feelings for someone at school this person would laugh at him, and maybe that's why he never did. Or he did and that exact thing happened, so he never did it again.

He was a bookworm. Loved to sneak out of the dorm at night to read books in the library, whether they were magic books to complement his studies, or just story books. He has spent whole nights and evenings there. He does this till this day, like I said before.

Cedric's teenage years in Hexley Hall with the rest of the sorcerers (Greylock, Grimtrix,+) just makes me think about Dead Poets Society. Same vibes 🫶

Let's pretend that Hexley Hall is an institute for a moment. Maybe they also sneak out in the middle of the night to do meetings or studying and walking through the dark halls of the school in the middle of the night all alone. Idk going to the library. Maybe the school staff was really strict with studies during the day and during the night they were strict with bedtime. Maybe some popular students such as Grimtrix and other ppl (also girls) spread the secret news during the whole day saying that there would be a party at night in some specific place on the school grounds where everyone (or just some selected people) should secretly escape from the dormitories. Maybe Greylock leaned on Cedric's shoulders asking if he was going to the party and Cedric complained saying he had more important things to do like studying and sleeping, but when Cedric was alone in the dormitory at night and realized he was lonely he decided to give it a chance. There is something interesting about stories of students at institutes sneaking out of their dormitories at night to escape the strictness of school and have some fun. It would be something interesting to see.

Random Cedric Headcanons

He likes wine, but he doesn't drink it too often. I have a post about his relationship with alcohol here.

I think he doesn't like to be drunk. He doesn't like to think that he can do something that embarrasses him or that he's out of his mind, he prefers to have everything under control. It doesn't happen very often either.

He hate the smell of smoke and cigarettes. He finds cigarrettes disgusting.

He likes tea.

His favorite fruits are berries and he likes them better in sweets.

He doesn't know how to cook.

Cedric has a sweet tooth, he loves chocolate, cake, everything that's sweet.

Cedric enjoys gardening. He just doesn't do it because of his busy schedule, but he has a good knowledge of plants so that he can make his potions, and he goes out with Wormwood to get ingredients to make them. This happens in one episode, actually. Wormwood also needs to know about plants so that he can help him find the ones he want. Maybe he knows because of all the years he's been by Cedric's side.

I believe Cedric got Wormwood while studying at Hexley Hall. I'm not sure how their bond happened, but I believe they've been together since Cedric was around 11-14 years old. Wormwood has been alive all these years because he is a raven especially for wizards/mages/sorcerers, or a spell was placed on him when Cedric was young so that he would stay by Cedric's side while he was still alive. But I think that makes an exception for unnatural causes like accidents for example, he can still die. I believe that this "conditional immortality" spell must have been done by one of Cedric's mentors or superiors at Hexley Hall, and I believe that all of the sorcerers' animals that pass through there need to go through the same spell. I also believe that it may be mandatory for each student to have their own animal, a little similar to the owl system in HP.

This would explain all those animals on the Hexley Hall episode, and why they are making a meeting after "long years of not seeing eachother". How would they be alive since Cedric's school years?They all speak in a tone that implies they have been with their owners since their school days, and the fact that each one belongs to a sorcerer makes me believe that it is obligatory to have an animal. Maybe they're important for specific spells? Studies? Assistants?

He wouldn't feel remorse for killing someone evil. If that person was absolutely disgusting and was a threat to his loved ones, he's not going to spend his whole life blaming himself for having killed someone. Even though he never really intended to kill and tried to resolve things as peacefully as possible, and that this person gave him no choice. He would never kill someone as a first option, though. He prefers to avoid doing it so.

He can takes things personally pretty easily, and because he's used to people saying harsh things to him, even the smallest comment can make him offended, because he's always expecting people to view him badly.

I believe the royal sorcerer is swapped at the same time the king is swapped as well. When the throne is passed to the next generation, the sorcerer also needs to be replaced by the next one. When Cedric's exchange came he was in his 20s, and Goodwyn was so worried because his son was a disaster. He panicked because Cedric would only put his family through an embarrassment with the royal family and the next king (Roland). Goodwyn kept citing to Cedric all the rules he had to know, telling his son to be careful, avoid doing as many spells as possible, and generally panicking. Cedric would just roll his eyes and respond "I know", "okay, dad", "I know". Winifred however brushed aside his bangs and kissed his forehead, saying "you'll make a great royal sorcerer, Ceddykins, I believe in you", which made him more confident and happy.

The sorcerer exchange ceremony takes place after the king's coronation. He also had to wear a ceremonial outfit, which involved a cape and a wizard hat.

He embarrassed himself in front of everyone because it was his first public appearance and it made him very nervous, so he took on the role of royal sorcerer with everyone in the castle and village already seeing him as an idiot. Perhaps during the ceremony it was necessary for him to cast a spell, maybe to follow some specific tradition or just to demonstrate his skills to the people, and Goodwyn covered his eyes and turned away, saying "for Merlin's sake, I don't even want to see this" while Winifred stroked his arm and tried to convince him to watch Cedric's spell. Cedric noticed this and that made his confidence get even worse. Goodwyn has spent every week since the sorcerer switch was announced in pure terror and anxiety, always expecting the worst at every moment.

Roland never saw Cedric as a very powerful sorcerer, so he never believed in his potential since the beginning, and that didn't change after Cedric became the royal sorcerer.

Cedric's hair is stained because of the spell that damaged Cordelia's hair. "Ah but that's obvious", yes, I know, but I believe this happened specifically because he accidentally spilled a few drops of the potion on himself. I actually have a post where I talk about this in more detail.

He absolutely never swears. But instead he says funny words, like the classic "Merlin's mushrooms" or this long and wonderful list I found on the internet.

He was born premature and was so small, everyone thought he wouldn't survive, but here he is now

I believe that they have "bath houses" in the castle for the employees (not the royal family, each one of them has their own bathroom) but Cedric is not a big fan of being naked in front of everyone, mostly because he's not comfortable with the people in the castle, in general. So he has his own "bathtub" (it looks like a wooden barrel but bigger and shorter) and he takes his bath alone in his tower. Well, him and Wormwood. Wormwood is absolutely disgusted by the sight but he's used to it since they grew up together. It's like "okay" for him to be in Cedric's side when he's inside the bathtub, but when he gets out, Wormwood avoids interacting or looking at him because "blerrggrg" (it's funny)

Goodwyn's parents were always treating him as the prodigy he was, so when Cordelia was born she also happened to be a prodigy and he treats her as such. But Cedric wasn't, he was a slow learner (or, using better words, a normal person) and Goodwyn didn't understand how to deal with children like that. He always demanded more from Cedric than he could do, as his sister learned quickly and was generally more praised by the family.

Cedric told Sofia EVERYTHING he did to her after his redemption. They had a long conversation, he said everything, about the sea monster being him, about the sleep spell, trying to take her amulet, literally everything. He cried in the process but he said that he wanted to tell her anyway, because he was truly sorry. Sofia felt sad and betrayed during the whole conversation but Cedric assured her that he was telling her because he didn't want to keep secrets and to prove that he was truly sorry. He promised that she was his best friend and that he could never do anything like that to her again. She understood him, respected him, and said everything was fine, but she would need a moment to digest. After that, Cedric continued to treat her well and prove himself so that there would be no more doubts.

Sometimes, in some situations when there is a bad person, Cedric gets angry with that person and plans revenge, or makes a plan against the person, to teach them a lesson. Sofia interrupts him, calling his name and saying that they already had a conversation about this, and he promised he would stop. Cedric grumbles and says it won't be anything too cruel.

He has medium size nails, squared oval shape because his nails are too detailed in the show and it makes sense. They didn't needed to detail his damn nails but they did, and they are actually a little longer than his finger, you can see that his nail doesn't exactly follow the shape of his finger. THEY PURPOSELY DETAILED HIS NAILS ON THE 3D MODEL I CAN'T (but unfortunately they are nowhere to be seen during "my evil dreams" which makes me kinda sad)

He definitely has gray/white hair mixed in his dark brown hair due to stress, age and unhealthy habits. His bangs were pure white when he got them, but after some time it started to turn gray. Some of his natural gray hair that comes with his age/stress are mixed in the white, so overall the color got a little darker (greyish) as he got older. We love a gray-haired man.

Tall, skinny and has a long nose- has big feet idgaf about beauty standards slay king

Cedric absolutely loves to be praised. At any circunstance, any place, he will give 100% of his attention to someone who's praising him, and he will keep trying to do more impressive stuff so that he can get more praises. Poor guy it's too underappreciated. At this point it's not even a headcanon anymore

Not me accidentaly posting this before I finished

I'm sure I'll want to add more headcanons over time, but when I edit a post after it's been reblogged by someone, that edit doesn't appear on the person's profile, but the previous version does. So I'm going to make a link to the post available on my blog, who knows, maybe the updates will appear on the link! (I've never done this before, I want to prove my theory. If it works, pls tell me).

#teenage cedric runs free in my mind #cedric sofia the first #cedric the sensational #cedric the great #sofia the first #cedric #headcanons #headcanon

[fangirlingpuggle]

HAD THIS LMK AU/FIC PROMPT IDEA IN MY HEAD ALL DAY.

Macaque finds and artifact and like in the JCA episode Demon world with the book of ages rewrites time. MK is unaffected and transported to this world one where SWK never went on the journey to the west, never got trapped under the mountain.

In this world demons are way more in power and terrorising people, it’s pretty bad.

MK is freaking out when he runs into Red Son (Who is far more similar to himself as Red Boy much more powerful and also never had father stuck under the mountain) the two fight and this version Red Son just falls head over heels for MK. MK is very confused when midbattle this version of Red Son is on one knee starting up with heart eyes asking him to marry him... he’s flustered and confused especially with his crush and how different this version of Red is.

MK is so flustered because this version of Red Son keeps talking about how his eyes are like solar flares and he’s the most handsome person he’s ever seen and MK is having a very hard time focusing on making a plan when his brain keeps being turned into mush by his crush waxing poetic at him.

Red Son manages to catch him and ends up in the demon bull court and MK is freaking the fuck out trying to figure out how to fix things while everyone else is apparently planning his and Red’s wedding?!

PIF see’s this mortal (or at least somewhat mortal) she can sense SWK’s power and is suddenly very offended the other never told them he had a son, how rude they could have an arranged marriage for their sons years ago now city’s going to be so rushed.

SWK is very confused about the letter he gets from PIF and DBK and of course shows up at the court... with his husband Macaque who is sooooo pissed and worried (This world is perfect Sun never got turned soft by that stupid journey he can’t lose this)

MK is left dealing with this version of his dad/mentor who is really different but also not in some ways... it’s a lot... made worse by having Macaque RIGHT THERE knowing he also remembers things and that this is his fault...

Family dinners he’s forced to sit through are so awkward.

Macaque deciding to use manipulate to make sure MK won’t try to ruin this by pointing out How much happier SWK is here, how much happier red is here and do you really think your version of him will ever smile at you like that your enemies kid...

In the end MK does get back Red helping him because he wants MK to be happy and fix this.

When they get back turns out through SWK being near the artefact he remembers the other world...Macaque disappears instantly and SWK is stuck with very conflicted feelings.

MK on the other hand is happy to be back but also...misses having Red be happy to see him... or at least until one fight

RS:You are so annoying noodle boy!

  MK *Jokingly*Yeah but my eyes are like solar flares right?

  RS:I how did you...HAVE YOU READ MY DIARY???

  MK:..what?

  RS:...

  Bonus

  SWK:MACAQUE GET BACK HERE WE HAVE TO TALK ABOUT THIS

  M: NO GO AWAY I HATE YOU

  SWK:...YOU REWROTE FUCKING REALITY SO THAT WE WOULD BE TOGETHER!

  M:...

  M:THAT PROVES NOTHING!!

#lmk #lego monkie kid #spicynoodleshipping #lmk spicynoodles #shadowpeachshipping #shadowpeach #au #fic prompt #monkie kid #lmk mk #lmk red son #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lmk pif #time travel #i am just amusing myself at this point #spicynoodles #lmk demon world AU

[misstrashchan]

Mmmmm been having some thoughts on Ruby and Weiss rn

Ruby is set up to be foiled to Alyx, both in the opening, trying to retrace her footsteps in her story in the first couple of episodes, picking up Alyx's knife at the blacksmith's:

And in the latest episode, her lashing out being met with her intepreted as being cruel and selfish:

"Like Alyx, she wasn’t just a little petulant or inconsiderate. She was selfish, cruel. Like this whole word was simply make-believe and the rules didn’t apply to her."

"What about you? It's *all* about you!"

JWBY all seem to have different ideas of who and what Alyx was. She exists to teach a moral lesson, she's just a girl trying to survive and find her way back home, she was a mean little girl, she was the villain who rewrote the story.

But then we also have this line from the book said by Oscar in V8:

"She brushed off her bumps and bruises, for nothing hurt worse than the loneliness in her chest."

And... I'm reminded of Ruby's own loneliness, how distant she feels from her own teamates and friends right now, from the pressure of expectations to always be the one with a plan, with a smile and something positive to say to inspire everyone to Keep Moving Forward, put on her by both herself and the people around her. How Weiss is mourning her kingdom, Yang and Blake get to sort their feelings out, Jaune gets to have his breakdown, to the point his own over shadows Ruby's and her feelings are dismissed. And how the way she lashes out at them was both understandable and a long time coming, but also terribly cruel and messy. And that no one can be blamed for not seeing or reaching out to Ruby more when she refuses to let others know how much she's hurting and ask for their help. Ruby is still entitled to her own feelings. So is Jaune and WBY.

Which brings to mind a certain quote shown at the beginning of a certain someone's trailer:

"Everyone is entitled to their own sorrow, for the heart has no metrics or forms of measure. And all of it... irreplaceable"

Weiss's arc involves her looking outside of herself and learning to see and understand those around her, their own sorrows and burdens they carry with them. And of course, loneliness is a big reoccurring theme in Weiss's arc. Meeting her teammates and supporting them is what leads to her understanding their struggles, hence why Weiss develops from wanting to be the leader to instead dedicating herself to being the most supportive member in team RWBY, and thrives the most when she's fighting with them, but also emotionally supports them through their own struggles.

She's the one who notices something's off with Blake first in V2, and gets her to open up to the rest of her team so they can all work it out together:

"So, Blake Belladonna, what is wrong!?"

She supports Yang when she's confronting Raven and dealing with her abandonment issues

"It's okay if... you're not okay."

Her own sense of self and relationship to loneliness is a healthy one at present, and is something she can use to relate to others.

She understands other people’s loneliness, that Blake in V5 needed space and in time she’d come back, and Weiss would be ready to be there for her when she did. And she also understands Yang’s loneliness in the same volume and that she needed someone there to support her.

“But you’re right. I don’t know loneliness like you do. I have my own version. And, I bet Blake has her own version too.” 

"When she's ready, I'll be there for her. And I know we're not as close, but... I'm here for you too."

Weiss understands that no one's version of loneliness is the same, and every individual needs something different to have their feelings respected and understood. And now in V9 Weiss has to reckon and come to understand Ruby's own version of loneliness after seeing Ruby snap and how much everything has been weighing down on her, and what she needs from her as a friend and teammate.

All the way back in V1, Weiss grew to accept Ruby as leader and promised to support her:

"Ruby... I think you have what it takes to be a good leader. Just know, that I am going to be the best teammate you will ever have."

And I believe she'll try to hold true to that as best she can for Ruby going forward.

#this isn't as coherent as I'd like but I wanted to post this before it left my head and the next episode happened #obviously there's no perfect solution to ruby's problems and ruby may be getting worse before she gets better but #there wasn't a perfect solution to blake and yang's struggles either #nor with weiss's own #that doesn't mean they can't be there for ruby and try to understand her own sorrow and loneliness #also I'd say weiss was starting to support jaune with his own loneliness #but of course this was it's own double edged sword when it came to ruby #but I think she'll help them both #I'm just more interested in ruby and weiss tbh but that's just a personal thing #rwby #ruby rose #rwby alyx #weiss schnee #rwby9 #rwby spoilers #rwby2 #rwby5 #rwby1

[fisherpiers]

Could you do a prompt where Luz and Hunter are not a double date with Amity and Willow (but Luz is a lil nervous about seeing Amity-  whether they broke up or not idk- You can pick) leading to Luz and Hunter’s first kiss or ‘I love you’?

Boy someone’s getting more than I bargained for… you expected a little drabble? Well no sorry just straight up 3600 word one-shot for you. I had too much material. Oh and heads up Flapjack is not dead. Idk where people are getting that idea smh.

Edit: psst. I sorta rewrote this one a little and you can read that version here

Edit edit: pls pls pls read the ao3 version lmao it has like 500 extra words and it flows much better (link above in previous paragraph)

…

Luz didn’t just have a few butterflies in her tummy, she had an entire butterfly conservatory.

Tonight was going to be the first time she’d have to spend an entire evening with Amity since she’d broken things off with her a few months ago. A double date. A double date with her ex… why did she let Willow talk her into this?

Willow had been trying to get Luz and Amity alone in the same room forever. Something about getting along and the power of friendship and yadda yadda..

And Luz really wanted to smooth things over Amity, honest. For Willow’s sake. It was just too awkward.

It’s weird right? When your best friend and your ex girlfriend get together. And you’re happy for them? You’re glad she’s able to make your ex happy like you couldn’t, but also what the hell man.

But it’s not like you haven’t already moved on, too. Uh, well, you sorta moved on before ending the relationship. That was why you broke up with her. So really you can’t be slightly mad here.

But your boyfriend also left Willow for you? And that’s weird too? But you and Willow are still besties bc #Hexsquad4Life and all that?

SO! To make things worse you’re now bringing the guy you broke up with your with ex for, on a double date with said ex, with his ex, and wowsers there’s a lot to unpack here.

It’s just all over awkward! Okay?!

No wonder Gus keeps taking his exchange students on long trips into the human realm. They’re probably giving him ulcers from all this drama.

The good news was that Willow and Hunter were the ones taking care of all the plans. All Luz had to do was show up. Which, is gonna be hard as hell to do in the first place.

She’ll admit, it’s kinda weird that Hunter was still all buddy-buddy with Willow, as well. But Luz wasn’t threatened by that.

She was 100% sure Hunter wanted her, and only her. Their was something about the way he treated her that left her no room for doubt. He was so tender with her. The ways his eyes promised her anything if she’d only ask—

Anyways!

Hunter’s breakup with Willow went so smoothly, in fact it was the most amicable breakup Luz had ever seen (and had been in the middle of). Which, of course. If there was anyone who could’ve actually stayed friends after their romantic relationship ended, it was those two. Not even a snag in their typical antics, their dynamic remained undisturbed.

Which was a little suspicious, now that she thought of it.

She never even once saw them kiss. She never saw them go out (without her or Gus tagging along, that is)…

However, they did hold hands every second of the day without stop. Which made it impossible to talk to Hunter without Willow there and it annoyed Luz to no end. Glued at the hips much? Wait,

It was almost as if they weren’t actually dating, just trying to get under her skin. And Amity’s too, by the looks of it…

Those cheeky buggers.

Well. Maybe things aren’t as weird with Willow and Hunter as she thought. So it looked like she, and probably Amity, were going to be the only ones suffering tonight. Yay.

Luz sorted through her clothes, trying to pick an appropriate outfit to no avail. What do you even wear to a double-date with your ex? Something extra hot to sorta say haha look what you’re missing? Something your new boyfriend bought you because he’ll love to see you wear it and simultaneously tell everyone you’re with him now?

Titan, she didn’t even think about all the people at the restaurant.

What were they going to think with the four of them together? Would it be confusing? Would they be watching for a fight, popcorn ready?

This was one of the many downsides to being one of the most recognizable faces in the Isles, an unwillingly celebrity. Everyone knew you and all your business.

She settled on a simple black shirt and slacks. Classic, right? Dressy enough for the nice restaurant Willow had picked out (probably in an attempt to keep things civil, bound by social contract and all) and not showy. It was an outfit that didn’t say anything. Which was probably for the best.

Just one thing. A necklace, from Hunter. It was a pendant he carved himself, an old light glyph. He gave it to her years ago, when he had just started his apprenticeship and was excited about carving. Amity had hated this necklace. Luz couldn’t ever figure out as to why, until lately. It was such a simple little thing, and it wasn’t like it was ugly.

But now Luz understood, it was a piece of Hunter. He had thought of her and carved her a necklace, unprompted. It was a gift, given on no special occasion. He just wanted to give her something. And she wore it around her neck proudly.

Of course Amity hated that.

She was absolutely going to wear it to this double-date. It’s not like it was one of his earrings or anything. No big deal, but enough to send a message.

Hunter knocked on her door. She knew it was him, with the little pattern he knocked on the wood. The sound comforted Luz.

She glanced over herself in the mirror once again before getting the door. Well, here goes nothing.

Hunter looked as handsome as ever, eagerly waiting with his hands behind his back as she opened the door. Once he saw her, his face lit up.

“You ready, Mi Amor?”

He offered his hand, and Luz took it.

“Mi Amor?”

“Cariño! Corazón! Mi Vida!”

“Okay, okay,” Luz laughed, “I get it you googled ‘pet names Español’”

“That’s where you’re wrong, actually. I’ve had these babies under my belt for years,”

Luz raised her eyebrows at his statement,

“I found them to be very important to memorize back when Gus had everyone practicing our Español everyday stuck in the human realm.”

Luz gaped at him, “Titan, you really meant years, huh?”

“I did indeed,” he looped their arms together, “now, let’s get going to our dinner reservations,”

“Ughhhh,” Luz protested, “do we have to? Actually, uh, I think I’m coming down with something, [cough cough] see?”

Hunter put his hand on her forehead mockingly, “oh you poor baby. Get on the staff.”

Hunter straddled Falpjack and patted the empty space behind him, beckoning for her to join him.

“Fine,” she pouted as she wrapped her arms around his waist, holding on tight as they took off, “but I’m not talking to her.”

Hunter sighed, “that’s fine. You just have to exist in the same space as Amity for a while and Willow will be happy.”

Luz hummed in agreement, pressing her face into his back as the world flew by. One of the downsides of air travel (or at least with The Flash over here) was that you got to your destination quite quickly. So there was no real time to spend staring out at the passing scenery, dreading your arrival.

“Actually,” Hunter laughed, “maybe it’d be better if you don’t talk to her. Then you won’t be able to start any fights!”

“Hey!” She squeezed his ribs, “I can be civil!”

“Then be civil.”

“I will,” she stuck out her tongue at him, despite him not being able to see it.

They touched down outside of the restaurant, which was hanging off of the Left Arm, and Flapjack took his place nesting in Hunter’s pocket. The little cardinal made himself very comfortable, as always, but that meant Hunter had grass and leaves in the pockets of every piece of clothing he owned.

The restaurant’s view was incredible, thanks to the Titan’s new position. All the new buildings on the Left Arm had the most beautiful views now, and the real estate value had skyrocketed. It was even more expensive than the Knee now. Luz preferred Bonesboro, anyhow.

The place was fancy. Going on a date in a ritzy establishment like this would’ve been unthinkable to 14-year-old Luz, but now she was used to getting invited to parties like this. She rarely went to them, but boy, did those rich people like to use her presence as a status symbol. “Look, I’m so popular even Luz Noceda is here” Barf.

She tightened her grip on Hunter’s arm as they spotted Willow and Amity, already at the table waiting for them. Willow waved them over, smile as wide as ever.

She was wearing a beautiful green skirt, that shimmered like an emerald, with a yellow cardigan on top, embroidered with little bumble bees. She must have gotten that from the human realm.

Amity was wearing a simple black dress.

Dammit. She must have had the same idea. And now they match.

No matter. Luz pointedly sat across from Willow instead of Amity. Which left Hunter vulnerable and having to look Ames in the eye, but Luz was allowing herself this bit of selfishness. Hunter was the one who dragged her here anyway. He could deal.

Didn’t keep Amity from locking eyes with her the second she sat down. Damn. She darted her gaze away as fast as she could.

“Hello ladies,” Hunter greeted as he sat down in his own chair, after pushing Luz’s in.

Normally she loved how over the top he was, but right now she needed him to tone it down. She could feel the eyes of every other patron in the dining room on her.

“So, what’s good here?” Luz nervously asked as she hid her face in her menu.

“Not much,” Amity said dryly, “this place is famous for its tiny portions and fancy ingredients that taste like dirt.”

“Shhh, don’t scare them, sweet pea,” Willow pointed to a section on her menu, as Luz tried not to cringe at how close sweet pea was to sweet potato, “Skara says the Selkigris Soup is to-die-for.”

A very vivid memory, of a very strong smell, surfaced in Luz’s mind.

“Uhhh, I think I’ll pass on that one, Willow, because,” she tried to think up an excuse, “uh, I don’t think I can digest selkigris very well.”

“Oh, of course, I hadn’t even thought of that.”

“Yeah uh,” Luz scanned the menu as fast as she could, to make it seem like she had totally been paying any attention to the piece of paper she’d been using as a mask, totally, “looks like they have Griffon Quiche. That’s usually pretty safe for me.”

“Oh that sounds delicious! There’s so many options, how am I gonna decide?” Willow giggled.

“I’m gonna get a spider soufflé, so I can send a pic to Gus,” Hunter joked, “it’s his favorite, maybe he’ll wish he came along.”

Willow stifled a laugh, “that’s mean, Hunter. You know he had to stay behind because Matt is sick.”

“Haha, I’m still going to tease him, though.”

Yeah. Matt was real sick, Luz bet. Dammit. Curse Gus and his ability to weasel his way out of this. She’ll pay him a visit whenever Mattholomule “gets better”.

Sigh, it’s not like she could blame him.

The way Amity leaned back in her chair, taking a really long sip from her wineglass, made Luz sure that she was thinking the same thing.

***

“Okay so a beast-demon, bidped-demon, and a bug-demon walk into a bar…”

Luz had to hand it to Amity, she was right. The food was tiny and gross. Titan almighty, she’ll never understand high-class tastes.

It didn’t look like Hunter minded it one bit, however. All these years later and the boy was still just happy to have anything that wasn’t the castle’s tasteless “nutritionally complete” rations. It was endearing.

It was lucky for Luz, really, because she still wasn’t the greatest cook. But Hunter always cleared his plate and told her he enjoyed it, so genuinely that she was inclined to believe him. Not like when Amity kept baking those horrific fairy pies and she just had to take them with a fake smile.

It was really easy to tell when Hunter was lying. His ears twitch.

Right now, he was laughing with Willow about a joke Luz hadn’t been listening to. She pushed some food around on her plate, bored, wanting this night to hurry and be over already.

This was probably a good enough time as any to excuse herself for a moment. Maybe check her hair in the mirror. She knew she’d been running her hand through it all night so far, it was a nervous tick. Maybe if there wasn’t anyone else in the restroom she could scream.

She scooted her chair out and stood.

“I’m—“

“Going to the—“

“Restroom…”

“For a moment…”

She locked eyes with Amity, across the table. Someone should call jinx.

Fuck, now she had to go with Amity. It’d be more awkward to sit back down and admit she wanted to avoid the other witch. So much for her “little break”.

One look at Amity’s face and Luz could tell she was also mentally going over her options and accepting defeat.

They walked side by side, not talking. The other patrons glanced at them as they walked by. Someone even raised an eyebrow upon seeing them. They kept death-marching in silence. Damn this was awkward as hell.

Luz looked haggardly in the mirror, clutching the sink.

Yeah, she had mussed up her hair a lot. She tried to fix it with some water, but it was a little too far gone for that.

Amity came up to the sink beside her, washing her hands. Luz looked to the ground, anywhere but at her. The restroom tiles were very lovely, actually. Such a nice pattern.

There was a nautical theme to this room. The sinks crafted to look like seashells. Not that strange for an Arm building, but Luz still found it cheesy. Fake pearls adorned the mirrors. Well, now that she thought of it, with this place, they were most likely real pearls.

“Thank you.”

Luz was caught off guard.

“What?”

“Thanks for coming,” Amity swished a piece of her purple hair behind her ear, “I know you didn’t want to. But it means a lot to Willow, you doing this,”

“Oh—“ that’s all Luz could say. “Uhhh. Yeah.”

The walk back to the table was no less agonizing.

When they got back, the dishes had already been cleared. Willow was doing something to the flowers in the centerpiece. The blooms were switching between hues.

“Guys, look,” Hunter kissed Luz’s hand absent-mindedly as she sat back down, “whenever Willow changes the color, the manager gives us a dirty look. She’s messing up his perfect color pallet or something.“

Luz and Amity looked to where he was pointing, and yes, the manager looked furious. Luz couldn’t stop the snort that came from her at the sight.

“We already ordered desert, while you two were in the restroom,” Willow stopped messing with the flowers to turn to Amity, “it’s a surprise now, sorry.”

“I like surprises,” Amity giggled.

Took everything within Luz not to roll her eyes.

Hunter’s hand found hers under the table. He gave her a little squeeze. Yeah, she needed that.

The mystery desert Hunter and Willow had ordered turned out to be just a couple slices of devil’s food cake. Just regular, not bug-filled, run of the mill cake. Because human sweets were all the rage right now, apparently.

And chocolate was a delicacy on the Isles. Luz would know, she spent many a weekend “importing” the stuff with Eda. It was the easiest way to make a quick buck around here, thanks to most witches being to afraid to venture into the human realm on their own.

Hunter held a spoonful from their shared plate up to Luz’s mouth. She bashfully took the bite. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this, on the contrary, he fed her all the time. Even a lot before they were together. Like when he’d feed her chips while her focus was locked onto a video game, or when he’d want her to taste test what he was cooking…

So he probably thought nothing of the action, but Luz was a bit embarrassed he was doing this in front of her ex girlfriend. She picked up her own spoon and made sure he didn’t have the opportunity to do it again.

The waiter had brought them the check with the desert. And once they laid out their payment it was quickly collected and their receipt promptly given to them. The fastest Luz checkout had ever seen. It was hilarious. The manager clearly wanted them gone as soon as possible.

As the group stepped outside, Willow pulled both Luz and Hunter into a hug. The three laughed, smiles wide.

“I love you guys! We should do this again sometime! Have a nice night!” She bid them goodbye.

“Peace,” Amity threw up the sign with her fingers to go along with the farewell.

The couple summoned their palismen and took off into the night. Luz turned back to Hunter, who was still watching their fleeting forms.

“Is this where the night ends?”

Hunter pretended to think, stroking his barely-there beard that he should really start trimming into a goatee.

“Hmm. Nah.”

“Well, then where to next?”

Flapjack flew out of his pocket, transforming into a staff midair that Hunter than caught with a flourish. Luz knew Hunter practiced tricks like this with Flap, so instead of appreciating how cool that actually looked, she couldn’t help but giggle in response. His gap teeth looked adorable as he grinned at her.

“There’s a show in Latissa we could make?”

“Lead the way, hotshot.”

***

Latissa was significantly cooler than the Left Arm. Lack of boiling sea spray.

The garage band played horrendously. Whoever these bards were, they needed to get kicked from the coven. Seriously, what was this. Titan, it was absolutely grating.

There were people standing all around, hooting and hollering. Guess Luz wasn’t the target audience, and with one look at her boyfriend, she could tell he wasn’t either. Hunter was staring straight ahead, spaced out. She tugged on his hand. He immediately gave her attention, scanning her for problems.

“Are you cold? Do you want my jacket?”

Luz laughed, “Actually, I was thinking we could get out of here,

He nodded, as she reached up to him,

“I will take that jacket, though.”

He quickly shrugged the hoodie off and draped it over her shoulders. She took a sniff of the collar out of habit. Hunter looked amused at the gesture.

“There is somewhere else I want to go, before we leave town,”

“Where?”

“You’ll see.”

“Oh we’re gonna be cryptic now, huh?”

“Yep.”

Luz playfully rolled her eyes, “how long then?”

“Oh it isn’t very far. We could walk, even.”

“Sounds good to me,” Luz offered up her arm for him to interlock with his, as she let him lead her to wherever this mystery place was.

He lied. It was across town. Not close-by at all. It was quite the walk, but it was time spent together, so she didn’t mind.

“Where did you even hear about that show? That band was awful. Good thing bards wear a lot of red because they’re gonna get tomatoes thrown at them one day,”

Hunter laughed boisterously, “HA! Yeah, they stunk,” he mimed wiping a tear from his eye, “I just heard about it in the shop one day. Some guys were talking about it.”

“Well those guys have bad taste. They were so bad,”

“So bad,” he agreed, “But it’s fine. I just wanted an excuse to get you to Latissa.”

That caught her curiosity, “why?”

“Well,” he ducked into the alleyway in front of them, leading her by the hand, “we’re here actually.”

“… a dirty alleyway?”

“Our dirty alleyway,” he smirked.

Hunter started climbing up the fire escape, stopping to help her get a foothold as well,

“C’mon!”

Luz had a feeling she knew where they were going. She clambered up after him, finally reaching the top, where she was greeted with a familiar rooftop.

“I can’t believe it’s still up here,” she gasped.

Hunter patted the bricks where the old painted lines of a large glyph still decorated the wall, “I know right, you would’ve thought the rain would’ve washed it away by now, after all these years…”

“Huh,” Luz marveled, “this was a nice surprise.”

He stepped closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She looked up at him, eyes wide.

“Hey,” he began, “I’m sorry about tonight.”

“You don’t need to apologize,”

“Yeah, yeah I do. This was a shitty thing to do to you, putting you through this. I should’ve said no to this whole thing.”

Hunter dipped closer to her, and Luz felt like a magnet was pulling her in.

“It’s okay, really, I,” his nose was brushing hers, “I forgiv—“

He captured her lips with his.

She melted into him. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her hand came up to rest on his jaw. She pulled back just a moment to readjust their noses, allowing her to deepen the kiss.

They parted for air, and Hunter longingly stared into her eyes, lovestruck.

“Crikey,” Luz gasped out, before she heard herself,

“DAMMIT! AGAIN?!”

What was it about first kisses that suddenly made her Steve Irwin??

#read the ao3 version for Luz’s bluejay. no fake hunt/low. way more details. and more messy emotions #and it flows way better #lunter #goldenlight #huntceda #goldenluz #the owl house #fish fics

[invisible-key]

Sick in Public - part 1 (original version)

I rewrote this story into first person POV for the sake of consistency, but I'm leaving the original version here in case someone preffered it!

New version can be found here!

Kinks: emetophilia, (a little bit of stuffing?) 

OCs: Bernie 

Summary: Emetophiliac Bernie purposefully vomits in public. 

(Warning: Bernie is a fucking degenerate. And so am I. xD Contains detailed description of nausea and vomit as always.) 

================================

Bernie had been feeling unwell since morning. So, naturally, he decided to go shopping.

It had been two years and three months since Bernie was last naturally sick so he was very happy. He couldn't wait to experience throwing up without having to stick fingers down his throat. He thought it would be very different and exciting.

It was also the perfect opportunity for one thing: public vomiting. He loved to make a mess in public and watch the worried and disgusted stares of other people. The thought of humiliating himself so profoundly sent tingles down his spine.

He cooked himself spaghetti with minced meat and vegetables. He liked cooking but he especially liked eating. But today he didn't have appetite due to the weird uncertain feeling in his stomach. However, he wanted to be sick so he served himself a larger portion than usual and made himself eat it. He was quite full after that meal, feeling a bit of pressure in his stomach, yet he went to lie on the couch and opened a box of cookies, snacking on them until he completely emptied it.

His stomach was becoming unhappy about being forced to contain so much food. The uncertain feeling has bloomed into a full blown queasiness. Yet he wasn't close to throwing up, which left him disappointed. He wondered if getting down a bowl of ice cream would irritate his stomach more. He went back to the kitchen and took out an open box of strawberry ice cream from the freezer. It was a one litre box but there were only two thirds left as he had eaten the other third yesterday. He got down the rest, the frozen treat definitely not doing any good to his body. He softly trembled with cold and his stomach complained by gurgling. 

He could tell he overdid it. This amount of food would have normally been fine for him, at most making him a bit nauseous from overeating, but he must have actually been ill because he already felt increased salivation typical for incoming sickness. 

That meant he was ready to go out. 

He thought about calling his boyfriend so that he could enjoy this too, but Lionel didn't approve of him purposefully making a mess in public, surely he would try to talk him out of it.

He put on his less favorite jeans - in case he ends up dirtying them - and a brown shirt, picked up his backpack and left for the bus stop. The outside heat exacerbated his nausea. As he stood at the bus stop, he took in deep breaths to try to stop himself from throwing up too soon.

The bus came and he took a seat close to the middle door, facing a large open space meant for strollers. The heat inside the bus was even worse, and he felt like he was choking on the heavy air. As the bus started moving, his nausea rapidly increased. Three stops in, and he wasn't sure he was going to make it to the shopping center. He was salivating again and felt tightness in his throat.

When the door opened at the fourth stop, he wondered if he should run out to be sick on the sidewalk instead of the bus. The amount of saliva in his mouth increased and he started to get up from his seat - 

The door closed. 

Bernie collapsed back in his seat. He desperately clenched his teeth to try to keep his food down for a little longer. ‘Maybe I'll be able to make it to the shopping center,’ he thought. ‘Only two more stops…’ Yet he couldn't help constantly eyeing the door. 

Fifth stop, door opened. ‘It's fine, I can keep it down… ’ he thought as he stared at the open door, ‘only one more stop…’

As soon as the door closed he knew he had made a mistake. He was going to vomit. Now. There was no stopping it, as he took a deep breath and his stomach contracted forcefully, sending a large wave of chunky vomit on the floor in front of him, staining his jeans and shoes. A few people turned to him in shock and hurried to get away from him. There was no time to pay them any mind as his stomach was already preparing to hurl again. He doubled over as more food made its way up his esophagus and through his mouth. A waterfall of liquid mixed with undigested pieces of spaghetti splashed on the floor and his shoes. He only had time to take in a short breath before his stomach spasmed for the third time, letting out a smaller amount of watery puke, which dribbled onto the existing puddle.

He breathed in and coughed. His throat burned and he felt the acidic taste of vomit on his tongue. He sighed and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. He enjoyed the blissful after-vomit relief. ‘That felt so good!’ he thought. ‘Getting rid of the food that was making me sick feels so nice…’

He opened his eyes to look down at what he has produced. He was surprised to find that some spaghetti pieces were a few centimeters long. He thought he had chewed more. When the bus took a turn, the pool of sick started flowing in one direction, people dodging out of its way. He looked up at the people. Half of them were staring at him, the other half pretending not to see him, but everyone had a disgusted look on their face. ‘They all think I'm a gross pig,’ Bernie thought and tried not to smile, despite enjoying himself very much. ‘They see an ugly guy who doesn't even puke into a bag and just pukes on the floor and all over himself. They think I'm so disgusting! The most disgusting person they've ever met! Or are they thinking that I'm super ill? Are they worried about me?’

When the bus stopped, Bernie picked up his bag and trotted outside, leaving a mess on the bus behind him. His clothes were dirty with barf and the people at the bus stop stared at him too. He couldn't help smiling.

He stood in front of the shopping center but he didn't feel like shopping anymore. Instead he crossed the street to wait for a bus in the opposite direction, and went back home, satisfied. 

#It's here! #I'm so excited to repost it because it's one my favourite kink fics and I've already written two more parts #emetophilia #emeto writing #my kink writing #male emeto #emetophilic character #stuffing #OC: Bernie #vomiting in public

[thebrideofreanimator]

ask and you shall receive here is a post about the shit show that was the making of the 1925 phantom of the opera

SO firstly lon chaney (and basically everyone else) did NOTT like rupert julian (director, sort of) but chaney and him absolutely hated each other and very quickly got to a point they wouldn't talk to each other and lon just wouldn't listen to him at all and basically rupert julian was a bad director and everyone knew it and also was just terrible to everyone. julian is the one credited but several other people also ended up directing the film, sometimes lon chaney himself

lon chaney and norman kerry also did not get along

during the unmasking scene julian wasn't happy with mary's performance and they eventually just decided to quit for the day but lon asked everyone else to stay for one more take and then proceeded to scare the hell out of her by yelling a bunch of really mean things at her and then raising his arm as if he was going to hit her before calling for the cameras to cut as they got the reaction they wanted and he did apologize to her after. theres conflicting info on how she felt about it but either way i feel bad for her i'm sorry mary :(

when the movie was first released it was and the responses were so bad they had to pull it from theaters and basically rewrote and reshot the whole thing. they released it again and it did even worse!! they rewrote and reshot the movie once again and then finally after many many reshoots it was a success and also very expensive!!!! it ended up costing like 11 million dollars in todays money to make ALSO somewhere in there we lost the og ending and i am never forgiving the test audiences for that ever #TheReplacementEndingSucks. also throughout this julian got fired and several others took over

after finally achieving success the decided to do it again in 1929 with sound!!! yay!!! lon chaney was not allowed to participate at all bc of mgm and universal wasnt allowed to have someone dub him either!!! so yeah they released it with sound but erik stayed silent and then the sound version caught on fire in the 40s and is lost now. all of the sound actually still exists though. theres a cool reconstruction of the sound vers on youtube using it (or whats publicly available of it)

and thats your phantom history lesson of the night

#maybe i could also do a post on the surviving copies of the film bc they are a whole mystery #the phantom of the opera 1925 #anyways this topic is interesting to read about

[ladyblueberrymuffin]

Imagine a trans girl stuck in a small town, her parents are constantly like "You have all the time in the world. We can look into this stuff later. Finish school first". But she's sick of feeling trapped in her body. Sick of looking in the mirror and feeling like she wants to peel her own skin off. So sick she wants to sob. So sick in fact she's willing to steal a magic book from an antique shop and perform a ritual.

What if her genuine sorrow is enough to summon a creature? A wish granting creature. And she asks it to make her a "real" girl.

She wakes up in her bed, looking like she always wanted. Beautiful hair, soft skin, curves. Then she realizes that her room s different. Her parents are different. Her whole world is different.

The creature didn't just help her transition. It rewrote reality so that she was always cis. Pwople who bullied her are now her best friends. Her best friends are strangers. The cis version of her seems to be pretty popular, and not that nice.

To make matters worse, the creature she released is now going around the town granting wishes and causing havoc, and eith every wish, the girl feels her body weakening. The creature is pulling on her life force to grant wishes.

She needs to join forces with friends old and new, crwating her own coven, in order to stop it before she dies. In the final battle, she unleashes her true power, severs the bond with the creature, and returns the world to it's original state, with one exception.

She has been on HRT for two years now and her papers have all been changed, though neither of her parents really remember how or when.

When she asks the creature if it's it's doing, the creature shakes it's head, flabberghasted.

"No. That was all you."

#story ideas #transgender #booklr #book idea #would you read this? #it's based on my own experiences #sometimes i too wish i was cis but being cis ain't really what it's cracked up to be u know? #more trans witch stories

[spacerockwriting]

Galladrabbles: Secret

I have literally rewrote like four versions and deleted this over and over. I didn't think I'd actually get this done and I did so I'm really happy about that now lol. Thanks @galladrabbles and @too-schoolforcool

Secret

Mickey’s dealt with Ian during all kinds of lows. He’s witnessed Ian in many forms, but he can’t remember something like this happening. Usually, Ian can handle his siblings’ stupid comments, but for some reason, this seems to annoy him. Almost worse than that stupid yoink game Lip used to play.

“The fucks wrong with you?” He asks, noticing his husband by the wall with a pout.

“It’s embarrassing,” Ian mumbles.

“Who gives a shit. We’re husbands, no secrets.”

“I used to have a lisp,” Ian mumbles, head ducked.

“An I used to suck my thumb. Who gives a fuck.”

#ian gets pouty about it #he's embaressed about it #Mickey doesn't care regardless #Ian doesnt like Mickey knowing these childhood stories #Mickey likes them regardless #also anyone who laughs at Ian in malice will get hurt #gallavich #galladrabbles #ian x mickey #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless

[beanieman]

You should show us your OCs

I actually made an entire blog for their story, but then I rewrote everything so all the characters had a major revamp. So I'll talk about their new versions!

Emilio - The son of the antagonist and protagonist of his own story, Emilio is a dandelion that came from a forest of dead trees. He's nosy "observant" and naturally nurturing, with a large heart that's filled with a lot of fear. His night sky eyes tend to look toward Val in times of trial. And for other reasons. 

Val - Val is a ticking hand on a clock. She moves forward no matter what lies ahead or how many people wish she could stay frozen and let things remain how they are. She's analytical with a good poker face that she mostly uses to help others, especially Emilio who is her soft spot. Also, she's ḫ̷̉a̴̞̋u̶͇͐ṋ̴̿t̶͇̆e̵͉̍d̸̳͠ by a dead man, but if you ask her, that's her least interesting quality.

Sparrow - The son of the antagonist and baby brother to Emilio, Sparrow is a bird with clipped wings. He's cunning and a natural trickster with a heart filled wit rage. He looks up to his brother a ton and is happy as long as they're together.

More Undercut

Alicia - Alicia is made of fire. With a passionate heart that's bright and warm, she's a well-needed addition to the group, as her unyielding optimism is always welcome. You can often find her in her car garage working on her latest project. If not there she'll be in the sky as her angelic wings allow all her dreams of freedom to come to life.

Matthias - Matthias is a court jester born with a sword in hand and laughter on his lips. His real job is a solider which is a career pushed onto him by his family name, but he doesn't let it get him down as he's a jovial man with a lot of love in his heart. He's jokingly flirty and quite playful in most scenarios. Though he knows when to be serious and he's incredibly good with a sword if the situation calls for it. He's Val's mentor figure despite not being a lot older than her.

Lorne - Lorne is the type of man who jumps to bring down a cult for the fun of it...mainly because that's exactly what he's doing. He's mostly just along for the ride as someone who just likes to watch what's going down at any given moment. He's extremely and unbreakably loyal to those good to him, a bit arrogant, good in a crisis, and friendly to everyone he meets.

Oisin - Oisin is a glistening pond in the middle of a forest. As a farmer who values seclusion, he firmly believes that nature should be respected and treated as an ally. He has a soft spot for plants and animals with more weariness for people in most cases. Still, he really values his friendship with the group and wants the best for everyone. He's a firm believer in "The odd's of many over one."

Throca - Throca has been dead for longer than he lived. Playful and musical, he had his voice cut out far too soon. Now he's connected to Val for adventures from beyond the grave…for better or worse.

Nora - Nora is a beautiful fluffy cloud on a day where the sky is a bright blue. She's a gorgeous women who knows how to use her looks to her advantage to compensate for all sacrifices she's made to get where she is. She's quick to pick up skills, bubbly, ambitious, and reliable to her allies when they need her.

#mod rambles #asks #writing

[fictionadventurer]

Starting to think the modern secular virtues are worse (or at least less compelling) than the old-fashioned vices. At least there, you had Good and Bad, Right and Wrong, and they were two separate categories with their own identities. Secular virtues don't give us Bad and Good so much as Bad and Not-Bad. The secular virtue doesn't have the unique qualities of a real virtue. It doesn't have any positive feature that makes it itself. Its only identity is "It's not this bad thing." That makes it negative space. A blank. Not something as active as a real virtue or a real vice, and thus not as compelling as either.

This is coming to mind because I heard a version of "Baby, It's Cold Outside" that rewrote the lyrics to push a message about the importance of consent. The girl's like, "I should go" and the guy only responds things like, "Sure, whatever you want. See you later." It's embarrassing and absurd. It completely guts the song of any tension or interest. I don't even like the original, because it's about a guy trying to convince a girl to give in to sexual temptation. But at least that song had tension--do I give in to society's expectation or to this connection between us? The guy seems predatory by modern standards, but it is possible to read this as, "He recognizes that she doesn't really want to leave and tries to convince her that it's okay to stay." He wants her company. He likes her. In the rewritten song, he's practically pushing her out the door! It's like he doesn't want her around! Sure, he's supposedly trying to respect her wishes, but in the process, we lose any sense of what he wants as a person and any sense of connection between them. The song's compelling emotional tension is replaced with a tract about The Importance of Consent that's as clunky and embarrassing as the worst evangelical tract about virginity.

It doesn't work because secular virtues aren't really virtues. They're Not-Vices. A real virtue is something strong and real and compelling and active. Chastity, love, respect--these are all things that require the person to make active choices to do something good. "Consent" is just "don't do something bad". It's "don't do this" and doesn't provide any compelling alternate action of what a person should do to honor the love between the two of them. There's no firm sense of what's right and wrong. It's just "it's right if it's what the person wants". It's tied to individual whims instead of something solid and real and good that's bigger than any individual person. And that makes it boring. Vice can at least be interesting, and virtue is far more interesting, but this in-between Nothing ground saps all the life out of both and gives us nothing compelling to replace it with.

#random thought of the day #very random very haphazard please don't take me to task for exact verbiage #i just heard this in the car and as soon as i stopped i couldn't go on until i tried to get these thoughts in some kind of sloppy order #catholic things #theology of the body

[atopvisenyashill]

@eidetictelekinetic i rewrote this like three times akskdj so sorry if it feels more rambling than normal, lol, and also, sorry if it’s not exactly the answer you were expecting?? did i even answer your question. omg i had a lot of thoughts.

okay so FIRST OF ALL as i was writing this i had the thought that while i definitely think marrying daemon is a bad decision, a) the number one complaint book wise she gets is honestly just “but she’s a woman” like borros & grover & unwin are really only bitching about that and b) the ones that are freaked out by her marrying daemon are the lannisters & hightowers & jason wylde & criston cole and c) the Main complaint Specifically in their case is that she’s a whore aka she had the velaryons-strong boys, and also, they have a material interest in aegon. group b is always going to dislike her because of point c, so NOT marrying daemon will keep them not as freaked out, but they are going to attempt to usurp her no matter what because of reason c atp, so she’s ultimately not trying to appeal to them, she’s trying to appeal to group a, and while dangling the idea that she MIGHT remarry in group a’s faces while she’s shopping for wives for joffrey is not like, the worst idea she’ll ever have, i DO think her ultimate failing is not “marrying daemon” so much as it’s giving up the capital AND not making allies around the capital. like, she has to do one or the other and ultimately, her marriage to daemon is not as pressing in group a’s eyes as her bastards are. so her problem here is less “how do i avoid or minimize the war” because that has less to do with daemon, it’s “how do i get daemon to agree to be my side piece” because in both canons and even in a scenario where she doesn’t marry daemon, if she doesn’t either get ENTRENCHED in the capital or get MASS LOYALTY around the capital, she’s still looking at a long and probably brutal and war crimey war. her marriage to daemon is a dumb move for several reasons but it’s not the move that loses her the war, at least in my opinion. like it objectively makes things worse because he makes her worse and he scares the hightowers. but the marriage is not the reason there is a war, and i do think even marrying him, there is a world she can still avoid most of the fighting outside of KL and that’s true of both versions of her. does any of that make sense. if it doesn’t i literally have several paragraphs continuing on about where i think she missteps the worst and how her marriage to daemon impacts her to throw here. omg.

moving ON, SECONDLY, i think definitely in the books she could have kept him on her side without him losing his mind easily. as you say, there was already some emotional romantic dynamic between laena, daemon, and rhaenyra if not a physical one (tho i do suspect a physical one as well) so he’s already primed to approach this as “us against your enemies” because there’s likely already been discussions of “us [laena, daemon, & rhaenyra] against your enemies” anyway. and again, i do not think she’s REMARRYING so much as saying “i don’t think WE should marry…….YET” and in the books, I think Daemon is already primed to agree to that (at LEAST for a few years.) (i cut another large section here aksjd).

you are RIGHT however that show daemon is just, way more needy, way more flighty, feels way more victimized by viserys’ actions and shut off from the family. i definitely think it’s trickier here, especially with the changes to his marriage to Laena and he & Rhaenyra not being in contact for a decade. HOWEVER. What she has going for her is Laenor & Daemon are friendly in this canon, and Laenor, though likely about to absolutely drown in grief once again, does want to step up and be a proper shield for her and the kids, and even if he’s an imperfect shield, he’s so clearly the BEST one she can have even imperfectly. I think she’s also not in as bad of a position as she could be when it comes to balancing Laenor and Daemon, not only due to their camaraderie during the war & the slight friendship that exists between Corlys & Daemon, but Laenor also doesn’t give a shit who she’s fucking.

And, in this canon, she’s in a slightly different situation - whereas we don’t know What happens to Laenor in OG canon (someone else could have whacked him, maybe daemon did whack him, he genuinely could have just gotten whacked by Qarl), we KNOW what happens in this one. In this one, when she talks to Daemon after the brawl, she is shaken by the fight, and also now by the suspicion that Alicent or someone she associates with ordered Harwin’s death. She’s still married, and Laenor isn’t going anywhere, but Daemon is here, newly widowered, and looking for a purpose, and acceptance, and like, idk how to explain it, validation? If she goes out there wanting to keep him but knowing she can’t marry him, she has to offer him something to stay, and I do think she has a much harder time of keeping him around.

Like, I definitely think, emotionally speaking, she’s in a better position in the books to keep Daemon by her side without marrying him than in the show, but politically speaking, she’s in a better spot in the show, but saying “hey it’s politically advantageous for me if i stay married to laenor but you also stay here, i need your guidance, your experience, i need the safety you provide, and i love you” is like…….idk DOES that convince him??? that WOULD imo convince book daemon IF he didn’t kill laenor, but in the show he’s in a VERY different spot emotionally and “i’ll be your lover but not your wife” is a hard pill for a lot of these dudes to swallow. which we have a LOT of evidence for, hahaha.

there’s other things she can offer him to get him to stay - if she never loses rhaenys over laenor, than she can engage her boys & and his girls NOW (or, just ONE couple anyway) and I also think she could offer him hand over Laenor & Corlys as a gesture, leave him in charge of dragonstone when she leaves to Continue Politicking (also cut a rant here btw) that might soothe the burn of not marrying him?

#return to my ‘how the dance can be avoided’ stream of consciousness notes app file akskdjdjjdjdjd #replies #i keep rereading the answer and being like ‘did i answer the question. why is this so long’ aksjdjd