#sometimes people seem to get way too engrossed in the idea of fandom to the point its not even about enjoying the source material atp

[burnpyygmalion]

i think ppl who are super online or into fandom should watch/read/etc something without ever touching fandom discourse or making aus or shipping characters just like every once in a while

#this isn’t a diss at shipping or aus #i participate in that sometimes #and its fun #im mostly saying like #sometimes people seem to get way too engrossed in the idea of fandom to the point its not even about enjoying the source material atp #and it also seems to result in fans acting like the creators of things have some obligation #to keep in mind a fandom or how a fandom would feel ab their thing #and i think that’s a stupid mindset #a writer should not be like i better specify this specific thing so there’s not meaningless discourse about it on tumblr! #☀️🌈🔥 #i just think it’s not particularly good to get really into a fandom of anything and everything you consume #mostly bc of the way fandoms are nowadays #also maybe i’m a bit tired of seeing really good series/whatever turned into au/shipping fodder and nothing else #if you’re going to do that at least pretend you like the source material outside of the character designs #idk im rambling i might make this a more cohesive post later lawl

[redwayfarers]

survivor - for the random word generator prompt!

hello! sorry for the wait, real life got the better of me and i didn't write, but i was reading gide and this came to me like an angel, so i had to write it! if it reads like les faux monnayeurs, i'm so sorry lmao, this is why they tell you not to write immediately after reading (affectionate)

a flickering light, or a tale of two survivors

Fandom: FFXIV Ship: Cassander/Stephanivien (implied), Nika/Minfilia Characters: Cassander Inteus (aka a Cass AU), Nika Perseis (WoL), Stephanivien de Haillenarte Rating: Gen Words: 1759 Spoilers: ARR patches, if you squint. dividers by @saradika

Set during early Heavensward.

The Skysteel Manufactory gets stupidly creepy at night. It’s not lit by torches or something, like some parts of the city - Stephanivien saw to that, he’s too avant-garde for torches, how dare the world not use every technological advancement ever! - and there’s a few of the lamps that go on and off, like a broken clock. Stephanivien is too busy to see that of all things, and we’re all far too enthralled by the creepiness to tell him. 

Some of us have weird tastes. 

The workshops on higher levels are a mess of metal parts, wires, cogs, magical devices and whatever the fuck machinists need. There’s a beauty in that too, in a way. It feels lived in, like a childhood bedroom you can’t yet leave even though you’re getting married tomorrow. Except that I was an adult when I first saw this room, and that I’d have no idea what a beloved childhood room would look, let alone feel like. My childhood bedroom - or the room where I spent a large part of what people call a childhood, anyways - is pristine, devoid of personality, rich, opulent. It’s a stage more than anything. Only thing remotely lived in in that whole fucking room - no, the whole shitty house - is the bright, orange pillow with Dzemael sigil sewn on it. 

It was embarrassing, packing your childhood pillow, the first time I left to spend the night in the Manufactory. But maybe I am embarrassing, deep down, so I get to keep my little pillow with me and go freeze in the messy, lived in workshops overnight. The more I got used to that, the less embarrassing it felt. 

One day, I might even go take it to Coerthas and drown in a river there. I’m sure my mother would be happier for it. She found the pillow rather tacky anyways. 

“It was very.. Kind of you to let me in,” I told Stephanivien one night, seated beside him to watch him work. His eyeshadow bore the signs of wearing, a little messy at the edges. His forehead gleamed with sweat. The lamp was dying, but he was too engrossed in his work to notice and I was too engrossed in him to tell him. 

“Kind? Cassander, your mother is an absolute bitch. Even if you weren’t as pretty as you are, I would have taken you in regardless. Between us, darling, you’re wasted in that house.” He smiled, widely. “You look much better with a gun in your hand, I will say.” 

“You will,” I laugh, looking at my hands. My cheeks were burning. “I think I like guns. Long ones in particular. Elegant. You may think I’m referring to something else, but no, I am referring to metal objects you use to shoot things with.”

“You’re funny,” Stephanivien shakes his head. “I can make you one, if you’d like. Golden, to match the pillow.” 

“My future gun has a bed now, who would’ve thought.” I reached out and grasped his gloved hand, dirty from the work. Stephanivien smiled, and it seemed brighter than the dying lamp above our heads. 

Maybe I’m also a little fond of that struggling, dying thing. I go up sometimes, when it’s cold, or rainy, or everyone’s simply too busy for me and my jobless ass, sit beneath it and look at the gun Stephanivien gave me. A nameday gift, engraved with a little dagger. It’s in pristine condition, but I clean it anyway, with all the care you afford a priceless, porcelain vase; the light flickers, on and off, but I don’t need it to see the little dagger engraving, the nooks and the crannies and the long barrel that feels like something my mother would hate. 

That, too, brings me joy. Theokleia de Dzemael hates machinists, on principle. The fact that I not only own a gun, but can shoot with it, is a kind of pleasure I wouldn’t have thought myself capable of some 5 years ago. 

This particular evening, I climb up the stairs to the workshop, coffee in hand, ready to clean it from the last practice from earlier. A curl that the goggles aren’t holding up tickles my temple, but I’ll be damned if I let my coffee spill just because of one stray piece of hair that refuses to sit still. I kick the door open. 

“I like your gun,” someone says before I can fully register them. A pair of mismatched eyes moves from the weapon to me and my coffee. “Did you also drink the last of the coffee?” 

“I’m not a coffee maniac,” I grumble, frowning. “I can’t drink all of it. What kind of question is that, for fuck’s everloving sake?” 

Nika looks at me with an equal furrow. However, that’s his MO, and mine is decidedly not. I have been known to grin maniacally once or twice. “One that needs answering.” 

The light flickers above our heads. It casts a sudden light onto his face, and shines a weak light onto the hazel eye and the scar on his nose and cheek. Ouch. His lips are pulled in a tight line, his short, black hair in disarray, a stark contrast to the finery of the clothes he’s wearing - courtesy of his hosts here in Ishgard. 

For a Warrior of Light, he is very gloomy and dark. An asshole, too. You’d think the Warrior of Light, of all people, would be a hero, but no, we’re stuck with a perpetually frowning asshole. What a joy. 

“What do you want? Move, I need that desk.” I place the overfilled cup down as roughly as I can. “There’s no fucking coffee here except the one on the table, and that’s mine.”

“I paid you a compliment,” he says, unmoving. “You could at least say thank you. You nobles should have manners.” 

“Je suis plein de gratitude. I know you paid me a compliment, but the question later made no sense so that had to be addressed first.” 

Nika looks at the gun again. He taps his fingers against the wood in a rhythm, three taps forward, one tap backward, three strong, one a glide, then in reverse. He then looks at his feet and takes a deep breath. “Minfilia is better at this sort of thing. She knows how to talk to you higher classes.” 

“Minfilia?” Who the fuck is this Minfilia woman? I readjust my goggles, and push the tickling curl away from my skin. Is she his lover, his sister? His friend? I can’t imagine him caring about anyone, including himself. From what little he’s been here in the Manufactory, a stray taken in by Stephanivien’s brightness much like me, all he did is make nonsense sentences and antagonize everyone. 

“Someone very dear to me. But she isn’t here, and neither is Alphinaud, so you’re stuck with me.” 

Alphinaud? Oh yeah, one of the other wards. The elezen kid. Whoever did his braid deserves to be fired because it’s needlessly messy and terrible. “Which would be fine, if you stopped speaking in riddles. Now can I sit, Warrior of Light, or will you clean my likeable gun for me? I’m not making you coffee.”

“In riddles? I’m not–” Nika frowns yet again. “Have your gun, whats-your-face.” 

“Cassander. Cassander de Dzemael.” 

“Cassander,” he says, like he’s testing the name. I look down at him. 

The light flickers. Something crosses his face, and his eyes look painfully vulnerable for a moment, and he’s tapping his fingers in the same rhythm again. 

“Why are you here, Nika?” I ask. I don’t know why my voice becomes so gentle. Maybe because I’m towering over him, and if I kept the hard edge, it would scare him off, not that I care about that. Maybe if I spoke gentler, he’d buck less under every question. Maybe he’d even start making sense. 

Or maybe the images of my mother’s hard voice echo in my head, like a hammer to the anvil. Now it is my turn to grip the table until my nail beds go a little pale. Her shouts and her yells, her derisive comments, her hard eyes and her pointed anger, and her looming, Halone’s ass, the looming! Do I sound like that? Do I sound as rough as she does? 

Nika’s quiet for a while. He keeps looking at his hands, rough and harsh. “That’s none of your business,” he rasps, but moves so that I could sit. “If someone needs me, they don’t know where to look.” 

I sit and take a long sip of my coffee. “Just mind the pillow, then. And try not to interrupt. This is something of a sacred ritual, you see. Halone-ordained. When you go to church, they tell you you must clean your gun or else she will smite you, or something.” 

He huffs. 

“Or so I hear,” I add with a shrug. “I’m not frequently in church.” 

The light flickers. 

“Minfilia would also laugh at that,” Nika says. I still have no idea who this Minfilia is, but she’s welcome to laugh at my jokes, wherever she is. “Will they fix the fucking thing?”

I take a sip of coffee. “Don’t think so. It’s rather cute. On and off. We all like weird things, I think, and my particular weird thing is this broken little lamp. Besides, I’m sure Stephanivien will notice at some point or another. When it dies, probably.”

“He’s the one making these guns, I’d rather he didn’t make me a faulty one,” Nika shrugs. “But if he sees, it’s whatever. It’s just annoying. You asked me earlier why I’m here. I was drawn to the gun. I think it has a nice shot.” He pauses. “I’m sure that the Fortemps family can pay for one of these.”

“Pretty sure they can, yeah. This one’s mine, though.” 

“I’m not in the habit of stealing people’s weapons.” 

I lift a brow. “Never said you were.” 

Nika shakes his head and heads for the door. The light flickers and he looks up. “Someone should really fix the damn thing,” he says, a little less angry than before. He’s then gone, tucking his waistcoat tighter for warmth, and I watch him go before he’s part of the shadows and I can take out my tools. 

We all like weird things. Some of us like long-barreled guns. Some of us like women named Minfilia, and speaking in riddles. And who knows? Maybe this broken little lamp refuses to die because it likes us, too. 

Halone works in weird fucking ways. 

#ffxiv #nero plays ffxiv #inspo birb has come to town #nika perseis #cassander inteus #stephanivien de haillenarte #heavensward #ffxiv writing #ffxiv fic #ffxiv wol #ishgard #this crossover needed to happen and i will be pondering the orb that it is for the forseeable future. thanks gide

[vvaspoppie]

Otto Octavius: Instinctive

→ Summary: After an incident, Otto finds out that Y/N is a mutant. → Author’s Note: Idk what this is probably the result of my Doc Ock obsession and watching some of the X-Men + Wolverine movies. Not evil Otto for this one. Pretend Norman allows them lunch breaks. →⚠ Warnings ⚠: Insecurities(?) → Fandom: Spectacular Spider-Man → Genre: Oneshot → Word Count: 1.2k → Pronouns: They/Them

You had no idea what Otto would think if he found out. You had been working at OsCorp for a good few years and in that time you’d come to consider him a friend. He seemed nice, but then again most people did when they didn’t know you were a mutant. It’s why you choose to keep it completely under wraps. The only people that knew were in your family. 

You worked in the genetics department. It seemed cliché, the person with a genetic mutation studying genetics, but that’s just how life works sometimes. You don’t remember how you met, and you didn’t really need to. You both took lunch at the same time and had been doing so since your first month at the company. 

It was lunch right then, not that you would have known that. You were too engrossed to notice the passage of time or your colleagues leaving the room or even Otto hesitantly approaching your hunched-over form. He softly called out to you but to your unprepared mind, it registered as a threat. On instinct, you disappeared. At least that’s what it must have looked like to Otto. You looked down at your arms and saw nothing. You saw the shock spread across his face as you silently stared. He turned around the room in search of you, mouth slightly agape. It was a better reaction than your last boyfriend. 

You’d turned semi-invisible in your sleep (meaning only your clothes were visible) and when he saw you he thought there was a ghost in your apartment. (Which was somehow more acceptable to him than the real reason). 

He softly whispered your name, which was when you reappeared. He jumped back in shock. “H-how did you do that?” He kept his voice low, likely not wanting to attract any attention from the people walking the halls outside.

Oh God, it was happening. You couldn’t tell if the look on his face was the ‘what-the-hell-did-you-do’ kind of shock or the ‘what-the-hell-are-you’ kind of shock. It was usually the second kind, but you didn’t believe Otto was like that. Didn’t want to believe he was like that.

Your heart was beating a mile a minute and your ears were burning hot as coal. This was it. You took in a deep breath and decided it would be quicker and easier to rip the bandaid off immediately. “I’m a mutant.” Then there was silence. His face reminded you of someone who had just figured out a complicated math equation, just more excited. 

It seemed as if the words went directly from brain to mouth. “Do you know how it works?” The realisation seemed to hit him quickly as he fumbled a bit with his next words. “Of course you know how they work,” he mumbled it like an apology, “D-do you know how it works on a cellular level, I mean.” With each passing word his voice became softer. You simply stared at him. You knew he was a scientist but his attitude still surprised you. Not afraid of the unfamiliar and instead interested - captivated by it - even. “No,” that was the word that opened the floodgates, “but I am doing independent study using my own blood. Oh, I also did my thesis on the genetic differences in human and mutant DNA.”

A small smile made its way onto his face. The air of the room was far less tense than a few moments before. “I suppose that’s why you never mentioned your thesis before.” Your face fell somewhat. “I can talk about it more if you want, just - don’t tell anyone else. Please.” It bruised your ego a bit to be pleading with someone like you're a school child asking someone not to tell anyone about your crush, but what else could you do. 

“Yes, of course,” he cleared his throat, though it sounded more than a little forced, “should we get to lunch now?”

You whipped your head in the direction of the clock on the wall. Your lunch break started a whole five minutes ago.

“Sure, sure. My bad.”

↔

At most lunches, you were both too drained to speak about much, preferring to enjoy each other's company in silence. Otto was more talkative than before for obvious reasons.

“You could commit crimes very easily with your abilities,” he spoke softly.

“I suppose so,” you didn’t quite enjoy what he was implying, but you didn’t want to assume deeper meaning where there might not have been.

“Have you?” Once again, brain directly to mouth. “Thought of it I mean- I know you’d never do something like that.”

“A few times,” it was tempting, even the best people’s minds would wander if they had your abilities, “I never acted on it. I doubt OsCorp would hire someone with a criminal record.” Nark sons of-

“Of course they wouldn’t, it would be horrible for publicity.” He cleared his throat and gulped down his water.

“Sure.” The conversation ended there and left a one-sided awkward air between the two of you. You wondered if it was a felony or a misdemeanour that caused the sudden uptick in his nerves. 

↔

It was the end of the workday and the lunchtime incident was almost completely absent from your mind. You packed your lab equipment away and wiped down almost every surface that you could. You weren’t sure if Otto was still in the building, but knowing him you ventured to guess he was. When you reached his lab, you could clearly hear what sounded almost like an argument. Almost because it was just someone else berating him. You knocked on the door and called out his name. The room went quiet and not a minute later Mr Osborn stormed out of the room. He shot you an irritated glance, but said nothing.

You hesitantly poked your head into the doorway. The lab was clean and Otto looked to be unharmed. (physically at least)

“Are you in trouble?” You asked, stepping into the room.

“No, no trouble. Mr Osborn is just … like that.” He was trying to keep the mask up, but it was plainly obvious that he was upset. Maybe now wasn’t the best moment to ask, but then again- “Do you want to go get dinner with me? I could pay if you want.”

“Yes.” His answer was quick, but his backtracking was just as fast. “I-I would love to…” He trailed off.

“But?”

“But I have more work still to do.” He sounded as disappointed as you felt.

“I thought they weren’t allowing overtime for this month?” HR did a crappy job of explaining why, but you got the basic idea down.

You could practically hear the way his heartbeat spiked by the look on his face. “It’s a special occasion.” You decided it was best not to question the way higher-ups thought.

“Do you know when you’ll be free?” This conversation was a verbal trainwreck.

“I believe I’ll be available next Thursday.” He had that awkward smile on his face again, it looked almost like the one he had when a hypothesis was proven wrong.

“That works.” The little confidence you had when you first walked into the room was nowhere to be found at this point in the conversation. He extended his hand, and you shook it. “It’s a date.”

He had to have been the most awkward yet cute person you’d ever known. And you had a date with him next Thursday.

Tagging: @sargensliza

#pop se sierskrif #otto octavius #otto octavius x reader #tssm doc ock x reader #doc ock x reader #doc ock #doctor octopus #doctor octavius #tssm x reader #oneshot #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #villain x reader

[nightswithkookmin]

I am curious about your take on something. So Taekook probably hate the idea of Taekook, right? If Jk and Jimin are together (as I beleive they are) then the very idea of taekook has to be like sooo weird for everyone, especially when it results in hate directed at Jimin. So why don't Taekook agree to like NEVER LAY HANDS ON ONE ANOTHER in public. I know they shouldnt have to. They like skinship and all. And no one is going cray cray over jinkook or jihope etc. But its an easy fix? Maybe not?

Tradshippers... Haha.

The gag being Tuktukkers say the same thing about Jimin and Jikook all the time- if V is his soulmate and friend, shouldn't he keep his hands off JK? Shouldn't he respect the sanctity of his friends' relationship? Doesn't he care that his actions with JK hurt Tae? That he is wrecking another man's home, yadda, yadda, yadda.

Heard it all before. Not particularly impressed by that level of rudimentary mental adroitness- at all. It all flows from insecurities and or the shipper's dissatisfaction with how these people in reality interact with one another because that often tend to be in disharmony with their shipping fantasies about their OTP.

The shipping community in general is a fantasy bubble. Haven't done much research on its demographics but from my observation, it seems the younger demographic can't seem to detach fantasy from reality while the much 'adult' population'- perhaps, for fear of having their reality warped or their hearts broken, are too engrossed in reality as such tend to approach shipping with quizical glares at best, cynicism, skepticism and what I like to call a false sense of logic- at worst.

Then of course, there are those in between.

But one thing they all seem to have in common is their emotional response to the demystification of their fantasies. Like any fantasy, people tend to lash out at or carry resentment towards anything or anyone that threatens their false sense of safety built around their fantasy.

For Taekookers they tend to lash out at Jimin or even Jokers because they threaten their sense of ship safety. Jokers do the same with JK more so than Tae, but Tae too nevertheless.

Taekook, Jinkook and the other ships Jikooker's are threatened by are viewed as threats and looked upon with disdain and resentment only because they ruin the fantasy of Jikook for them and nothing else.

And if that's not the case, then these people are too invested in someone else's relationship and lack both personal and emotional boundaries- it's their relationship not ours.

You can't sit in your homes, behind the screens and pilot someone else's relationship or point out what is wrong with their relationship and feel strongly about it to the point you start demanding and dictating how they should relate with eachother or their friends- that's entitlement and borderline toxicity which is scary, not gonna lie.

Jikook and Vmin equally ruin the fantasy of Taekook for their shippers. And they look to Jimin as the grinch and killjoy, hence lash out against him without reservation.

In a perfect shipping alternate universe, Taekook or Jikook would be couples within a group where it's glaringly clear that they are couples and as such no other ship would compete or interact with them in a way that raises questions about the general perception of them as a couple unit within the group or threaten their status as such. But this is reality. Not fantasy. And it just doesn't work that way.

Most of these conversational topics you raise are about how people want their OTP to behave rather than how their OTP actually behave towards one another.

It's especially disconcerting when their disapproval of an interaction stems from them 'wrongly' labeling or interpreting that interaction as 'intimate' and or romantic and proceed to go on an emotionally charged rant on behalf of their OTP calling for them to instill boundaries.

Maybe Tae is not instilling boundaries for JK with Jimin because he doesn't have the right to? Because he is not in a relationship with either Kook or Jimin?

Maybe Jimin is not telling Tae and Kook to keep the skinship off cameras because he is not bothered by the 'hate he receives' because of their interactions?

Tae kook have been interacting on our screens for 7 good years. You think if Jimin found their interactions as problematic or disrespectful to his relationship with Kook that he wouldn't have nipped that in the bud?

Have you not seen him react a countless time to when he is uncomfortable with an interaction that crosses his limits or boundaries? It should tell you he doesn't have a problem with Tae Kook at all.

He only has a problem when an interaction crosses the line. Same with JK. And if due to his ideosyncracy he can't stomach an interaction, he averts his eyes. I don't think he would want them to stop interacting all together. If he did that would be problematic because they are all friends and he doesn't own Kook or vice versa.

Also the statement that Tae Kook need to keep their skinship off camera because Jimin receives a lot of hate because of it is a non sequitur. Tae kook is not the reason Jimin recieves a lot of hate in the fandom. Jikook is.

Taekook doesn't hurt Jimin, Jikook does. People lash out at Jimin because of his interactions with JK not because of JK's interaction with with Tae.

So the solution would not be for Tae and Kook to keep their skinship off camera, it would be for JK and Jimin to not interact on camera at all. I mean if we are being honest.

And all those who claim JK isn't protecting Jimin because his interactions with Tae is what fuels the passions of Tuktukkers towards Jimin, think again...

JK puts up boundaries with Tae as it is. Out of all BTS, they are the two who have openly admitted to having 'drifted apart' over the years- I wonder why. When Tae spoke about wanting JK to treat him as a friend rather than hyung, JK told him he couldn't do that because that would have led to a lot of fights between them. What other boundaries do y'all expect him to put up again?

Dude rarely nurtures his relationship outside Jimin within the group- responding to texts a whole year later and what not.

And even with this, Jimin recieves a lot of backlash regardless. I think we need to stop justifying hate. There is no justification for hate. No excuse is excuse enough for the traumatization of another human being.

JK equally gets dragged for filth in these shipping streets. Tuktukkers hate him as much as they hate Jimin because of his interactions with Jimin. Tae stans hate him. Jimin stans hate him. He is neither here nor there. He got called a pig, sissy, and all kinds of derogatory names when he pulled away at KBS when Tae wanted to hold his hands.

Jokers, PJM jokers drag him for filth in their gcs and shit and equally hates on him because to him he doesn't love Jimin enough or at all. Especially, when he doesn't interact with JM in a way that pleases them.

The problem is Jikook. Both Jimin and JK will have their peace of mind if they didn't interact at all and kept their relationship private. The best way for JK to protect his boyfriend from all this bullshit is to keep a safe distance from him and act like he doesn't know him or never met him- because that is how Kpop idols usually protect their relationships.

And yet, and YET, when he does just that y'all jump on his neck on every turn, screaming Jk hates Jimin and doesn't love him. I gotta ask-

WHAT Y'ALL WANT FROM JK?!

People just like to ruin beautiful things, don't they?

And while we are at it, let me address this Ask I got a few days ago claiming if JK loves Jimin then it doesn't make sense for him to want to act so loud with Jimin or express his feelings for him in a way that out's their relationship because that can hurt Jimin and bring him a lot of hate...

You think Jimin openly loving on JK doesn't bring JK a lot of hate too? Damn. It's the double standards for me. Lmho.

Listen, JM has a duty to protect JK just as much as JK has a duty to protect JM. By your logic, if Jimin loves Jk then he equally needs to stop doting on him in public because his love causes JK as much pain as JK's love causes Jimin- but Jimin can't stay away now can he?

Jimin had to ask JK permission to express himself the way that he does with him- on their Log when he asked JK if he was ok with him saying he loved him on camera. Jk had a need to keep their relationship private, Jimin had a need to keep it open and clearly didn't want to hide their relationship. But they have since outgrown their old selves. Their wants and their needs have changed- if you pay attention to JK's lyrics in recent times.

Their dynamics keep flipping. And they are constantly negotiating their needs, from my perspective anyway- let them do them. Y'all didn't seem to have a problem when in their earlier dynamics Jimin was the one pushing for them to be open with their relationship. JK eventually gave up his need to hide their relationship didn't he? And overtime he became comfortable expressing affection for Jimin openly.

Yet, suddenly when JK wants the same thing in their relationship y'all claim he is being unreasonable and unfair towards Jimin? Huh?

Granted, he over does it sometimes. Yes. Lol.

But you can't hold Jikook to different standards. They are both human and their feelings for eachother are equally valid. Their needs from eachother are valid in the same weight.

If Jimin gets to show the whole world just how much he loves JK and because of that many people are convinced Jimin loves JK more than JK loves him- even if half of the time he is using fanservice as a cover or even his persona as a cover, then why can't JK equally use his art or whatever means he prefers as a cover to show the world just how much he loves Jimin?

...Even if half of the time he is borderline outing him and getting him in trouble? Lol. That's just the love if you ask me. Hehehe.

Chilee JK, you make it hard to defend you sometimes! Lol. Just don't out your man. How hard is that!😭🤭

Seriously though, you don't think he wants people to see he loves Jimin too? Damn, y'all be reading Jimin wrong. Because Jimin loves it when JK shows the world he loves him... Did you see his face after Rosebowl? Why do you think JK keeps cutting it close? Dude is gunning for the points. Lmho. Jikook speak eachother's love language. Let that sink in.

If JK is pushing against the glass closet it's because he is convinced that that is something Jimin wants but is afraid to go after and he is the fearless one among the two. Y'all just be fighting the wrong battles. Lmho.

Jikook is asserting themselves against eachother. They are pushing eachother's boundaries and I don't think that is necessarily a bad thing.

You can't claim JK doesn't love Jimin and in the same breath condemn and disapprove of the ways he expresses himself and his love for Jimin- I think you need to free JK now!

Between Tuktukkers and certain Jokers, I don't know who is worse- Nevermind, I'm not a fan tradshippers in general.

JK is there to please his man not shippers and the way I see it Jimin looks like a satisfied customer to me.

If you are dissatisfied with Jikook, there are a countless other ships in BTS. Get on one. See how that goes. Lol.

Where were we, Anon?

Oh right, Tae Kook. Lol.

I think we need to learn to hold the right people accountable for their actions. The problem is not Tae Kook, or Jikook or any other ship. The problem is with the toxic shippers who use them as an excuse to perpetuate unfathomable hurt towards the boys and towards others.

I think Tuktukkers need to develop a better attitude towards Jikook. Jikooker's need to do the same about Tae Kook or Jin Kook.

Personally, I would rather Jikook kept their relationship private but I also understand their need to take advantage of the glass closet- secrets are hard to hide. They get heavy before they get easy.

And Jimin loves to be loved. He loves when you show him off. It's part of his love language. You can't date him and Keep him a secret- and still we question why JK doesn't want to hide him.

If y'all don't want to ship Jikook that's fine. I'll ship them myself.😒

Whatever decisions they are making, I support it wholeheartedly. I support them with every fiber of my being.

LONG LIVE JIKOOK. JIKOOK IS REAL.

Signed,

GOLDY

[anasticklefics]

Tickle Cheating

Fandom: Star Trek

Characters: Jim Kirk, Leonard McCoy

Summary: Jim tickles Bones. It’s what he DOES. So how does one react when you see someone else tickle your usual victim? Like a mess if you’re Jim Kirk apparently!

A/N: I blame @fickle-tiction (are you HAPPY?). Also I don’t know how hospitals work don’t yell at me. Might rewrite this idea with lee!Jim because he has my heart.

Also does this whole fic and my author’s note have a general chaotic air about it or am I going crazy haha?

Words: 3 124

The first time Jim noticed it was when he dropped by the hospital to deliver Bones’ lunch that he’d left at the kitchen counter of their shared dorm room. Entering a space that was oddly both chaotic and completely still at the same time, the general air so suffocating that it was no wonder Bones was exhausted each time he returned from a shift. Jim grinned at the receptionist, unsure of where the med students where and if he was even allowed past a certain point and if so, “would you or someone give this to Leonard McCoy?”

But the woman, hair framing her heart shaped, incredibly kind face, met his grin with a smile and told him he could go right in.

“If someone stops you or you can’t find him, simply ask if someone can leave the box in the kitchen.”

Her words sounded scripted in a way that told him this probably happened more often than not, and he thanked her and left. Up three stories with the elevator to the floor she’d directed him toward, footsteps echoing around the empty corridors, until he eventually found a more chaotic environment in the form of the emergency room.

How many times had he been here just that semester?

“Kirk!” someone Jim recognized from the Academy called out, glancing up from a clipboard. “What have you done now?”

Jim rolled his eyes. “It’s been months since… whatever. Do you know where Bones is? McCoy. Whatever you call him.”

“I tend to call him Leo.”

“That’s weird. Do you know where he is? He left his lunch.”

The guy, unnamed for now and the rest of eternity, pointed his thumb in the direction of yet another corridor. “Third door to the right.”

“Should I just go in?”

“They don’t have any patients in there right now.”

So Jim went, wondering if he was breaking any rules but feeling extremely ready to get out of there.

He saw it then. The small room - do they perform surgeries in there? - with a bed and a table and four windows and five people, all on top of each other with Bones in the middle. All talking, simultaneously grave and cracking jokes. Familiar, whether they wanted to or not. A job where you couldn’t be timid of bodily contact; eating and sleeping almost in each other’s laps. Jim looked at Bones, saw how easily he moved with elbows in his guts and people breathing down his neck.

He also saw his face light up when he caught sight of Jim.

“I brought your lunch,” he said meekly, holding it up, and if Bones was the type to profess his undying love for his friends, Jim was sure he would be going down on one knee right now.

“I’m only gonna say this once,” he said later, having entered their dorm as Jim had been nearly falling asleep over his homework. “You bringing me food literally saved my day and I will grant you one wish as a reward.”

And Jim, exhausted, lonely and closer to the verge of tears than he would’ve liked, demanded cuddles.

In their years of living together Jim had never asked for cuddles. He always wanted to, but whatever physical affection he had a tendency to hand out to his friends like a way too common gift, he always stopped before they could get mad, and therefore always stopped before he felt satisfied.

“I just want a good fucking cuddle,” he was saying now, his tone too desperate for it to sound like a joke. Bones, bless him, didn’t comment on it.

“Let me take a shower and change,” he only said. “Trust me, you don’t want whatever my clothes have.”

Jim nodded, suddenly feeling too vulnerable, too exposed, so he ducked his head back down, eyes on his books. Listening to every sound Bones was making, thinking he was being both too quick and too slow, and when he finally returned Jim was fully aware of it, but pretending to be too engrossed in his work to notice.

“You wanna cuddle now or later?” Bones asked, so casual about it that Jim knew he’d never manage to get a single thing done for the rest of the night.

“Now,” he said, standing abruptly enough to nearly knock his chair down.

Bones grabbed it, his face a mix of amusement and concern. “Right then. The couch? Movie night?”

“Sure.”

“Want to pick the movie?”

“You go ahead.”

“Okay.”

Jim tried to shake the sudden awkwardness out of his limbs as he followed his friend into the living room area of their tiny dorm, realizing this was probably a bad idea. They hadn’t even touched yet and he was acting like a total fool.

“We don’t have to do this,” he blurted out, causing Bones to stop in his tracks. “I don’t know why I asked for it. I’m over it. I was just tired. We really don’t have to.”

“Jim.” Reaching out to grab Jim’s arms, Bones gave his flesh a squeeze. “Breathe. It’s fine that you asked for it and we don’t have to do it if you’ve changed your mind, but if I really didn’t want to myself I would’ve said so.”

Jim deflated. “Promise?”

“Jesus, you must be exhausted. Yes, promise.”

“It’s just that-” Jim wasn’t sure why he was trying to explain when Bones hadn’t asked for an explanation in the first place. “-I saw you at the hospital and you seemed so okay with being physically close to people and I feel like I might die if nobody holds me for, like, half an hour-”

“Jim.”

“-and I know it’s part of your job so I don’t want to overstep-”

“Please shut up for a sec.”

Jim did, but only because Bones had said please.

“I don’t necessarily enjoy having my personal space so violated,” he continued. “But of course I don’t mind you doing it. You’re my-”

“I know,” Jim said when Bones trailed off. They had no words to describe what they were. “So I shouldn’t be jealous?”

“Absolutely not, but mostly because you act like an idiot when you want something you think you can’t have.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You act like a petulant child.”

“Oho, is that so?”

Bones ruffled his hair. “Go back to being timid. It was cuter.”

So maybe Jim didn’t pay attention to anything that happened in the movie and fell asleep in Bones’ arms ten minutes later, Bones’ fingers squeezing at various places on his body to get him to “relax for fuck’s sake”. Maybe he couldn’t picture himself falling asleep in an empty bed again for weeks. Maybe Bones was really fucking good at cuddling.

Waking up sweaty with Bones’ knee pressed to the small of his back later was a whole other thing. “Hhng. Get off.”

“You’re nearly on top of me.”

“Feels like I was hit by a truck.”

“You snore like a goddamn-”

Jim somehow managed to roll over and press his face into Bones’ neck. “Shh. Too loud.”

A spasm went through Bones’ body, convincing Jim he was trying to throw him off the couch and making him resort to clinging onto his torso for dear life. “N-no.”

“What was that?”

Bones was, miraculously, laughing.

Jim tried to crane his neck to get a glimpse of his face, but he only succeeded in pressing the top of his head beneath Bones’ chin. “Okay, what is happening right now?”

Bones said something incoherent, his words slurred with sleep and higher in pitch with laughter. His hands were clawing at Jim’s back, unable to get a good grip of his shirt and therefore only managing to lightly tickle him, which was kinda nice actually.

Wait.

“Oh, this is tickling you,” Jim said, laughing into Bones’ skin as if this was a group activity. “Hey, I didn’t even know you were ticklish.”

“I’m not,” came the strangled denial.

“Hmm, I think you are. Otherwise this wouldn’t bother you.” He spidered his fingers up Bones’ side, noticing the squirming getting a notch more desperate the closer he came to his friend’s ribs. He paused just beneath them. “I’ll make you a deal. If you don’t react to this I’ll believe you’re not ticklish. Okay?”

“Jim, you fucking-”

Jim jabbed him in the ribs and nearly lost his hearing from the shriek that left Bones’ mouth.

“Ah, so you’re ridiculously ticklish, then?”

Bones cursed and managed to slip his arm out from beneath him, placing it against Jim’s chest, but not pushing him off.

“And you don’t mind this? I see.”

“I’m gonna kill you, James Tiberius-”

“Don’t you middle name me, Leo.”

Years passed. They graduated. Jim somehow became a captain and got a ship. Bones for some reason decided to work on said ship, bestowing Jim with his constantly shifting moods for the next five years. Not that he complained. Was literally doing the exact opposite. And, all the while their lives changed and kept changing, Jim kept tickling him nearly daily.

“Don’t fucking tickle me in front of others,” had been Bones’ one demand disguised as a request.

So Jim didn’t, but kept it behind closed doors as they always had. The image of Bones being physically close to others always prompting him to demand cuddles, now that he wasn’t ashamed of this dire need anymore. And, more often than not, he would slip his hands beneath Bones’ shirt and make him laugh uncontrollably for a few minutes. He wasn’t sure how it had become a part of their routine, but he felt that if he didn’t get these intimate yet playful moments as often as he could he would shrivel up and die.

“You’re a drama queen,” Bones had said more than once when Jim had complained about them not having gotten any alone time.

“You literally beg me to stop when I’m barely even touching you,” Jim countered each time. “Don’t call me a drama queen when you’re just as bad.”

Bones would only wave a hand at him, having gotten out of the habit of blushing over his sensitivity years ago.

Something else that had become more common than they probably realized was how often Jim brought him food into medbay. Sometimes it was breakfast, snacks, his forgotten lunch or dinner. Other times it was just a drink, just as an excuse to stop by. Sometimes he came empty handed.

That day Bones truly had forgotten to eat, his empty seat painfully loud in the cafeteria. Jim knew his habits more than anyone and knew he wouldn’t eat unless food was visibly presented before him, and so he filled a tupperware with everything he knew Bones liked and skipped through the corridors, suddenly feeling like he was back at the Academy again.

Bones wasn’t alone, but he rarely was. The crowded hospital rooms had been replaced with him and Chapel dancing around each other, sometimes with more than one crew member present; arms and legs and chests and heads laid out for Bones’ magical fingers to heal, or so they hoped. Jim had lied there more times than he could count, so he was highly familiar with the nooks of this part of the ship.

Bones was standing on a stool, which made Jim stop in his tracks before he announced his presence, greeting dying on his lips and being replaced with a grin. Whatever Bones was trying to reach, it seemed to be just out of reach and he was grumbling as he kept stretching.

“Do you need a hand there?” Chapel asked, her tone playful while Bones let out an unprofessional curse.

“Can I borrow some heels?” he muttered, and she laughed, all familiarity due to working together in such close proximity for years. It wasn’t elbows in guts or naps in laps, but Jim recognized it from his crew on the Bridge. It was impossible to not grow close.

“It might help if I make you jump,” she continued.

“How the hell will you do that?”

Jim was almost proud of the fact that he didn’t let out any sound as he watched her reach out and poke at Bones’ ribs, just at the spot that could make him scream with laughter. It was a coincidence, it had to be a coincidence, how the hell could she know.

Bones didn’t squeal, but he didn’t pretend as if nothing was happening as he had learnt to do back in school, partly because back then people never meant to tickle you if they tried to get past you quickly and had to grab your waist. Chapel did indeed mean to make him squirm.

Jim watched his arms shoot down, swatting at her with a laugh so relaxed this really truly couldn’t have been the first time she tickled him. It really truly couldn’t.

Other people tickled Bones. Bones let other people tickle him.

He started backing away, lunch box forgotten when he literally bumped into Uhura who was coming from the opposite direction. The tupperware flew out of his hands as he let out a gasp in surprise, the food littering the floor only a second later. Things were a bit chaotic after that, but maybe because everything was overpowered by his frantically beating heart, that really had no business freaking out but there they were.

“I’m so sorry!” he heard Uhura say over his own incoherent babbling, the two of them crouching down to clean up the mess while Chapel and Bones kept repeating that “it’s fine, we have a broom, please get off the floor” that Uhura eventually listened to while Jim had to be pulled upright by Bones who was laughing, only to start frowning when he realized just how truly stressed out Jim was by the whole situation.

It wasn’t even about the food, but.

“I’ll go get you some more before they close the cafeteria,” he said, heart in his throat, threatening to spill out among the food on the ground, and who knew what that treacherous heart would reveal. “Really, it’s fine,” he said, leaving them be and rushing to the first restroom he could find, finally allowing himself to calm the fuck down and breathe.

What a stupid thing to get upset by, but.

He heard someone enter the room, causing him to press his body against the stall like a coward, but Bones’ voice rang clear anyway. “Jim?”

He didn’t reply.

“Come on, I know you’re in here.”

“I’m peeing.”

“Right, well, I’ll wait until you’ve finished.”

“Okay, I’m not peeing.”

“I know.” A beat, and, “Come out. Please.”

It was always the please that got him.

“Before you ask,” Jim said, exiting the stall. “I was gonna go get your food just after this stop.”

Bones rolled his eyes. “I don’t care about the food. I mean I do, and it was really nice that you brought me some, but it’s a slow day and I’ll be fine.”

“Oh.”

“I wanted to see what was up with you.”

“With me?”

“You seem… I don’t know. Freaked out? Like something is wrong?”

“I see.”

“Jim.”

He shook his head, ran a hand through his hair, looked anywhere but on Bones. “I don’t know. The whole situation sort of shook me and now I feel weird.”

“You spilling the food?”

“No. Jesus, no. Just-” He waved his hand in Bones’ general direction. “You being tickled by someone else. It was weird being an onlooker.”

“You’re acting like a disaster because of that?”

“Look, you know I’ve acted worse about tamer things.”

“You’re so stupid.”

Jim snorted, finally meeting his friend’s eye. “I’d love to have this conversation-”

“Stop lying.”

“-but I have to head back. Got a ship to run and all.”

Bones rolled his eyes. “Fine, but I’m bringing this up tonight.”

Jim patted his shoulder as he passed. “I’m counting on it.”

It didn’t mean that he was looking forward to it, however.

“Ugh, just get it over with,” he groaned when Bones entered his quarters, looking rather alert, pointing to a calm rest of the day.

“Don’t sound so excited about it,” Bones deadpanned. “We’re gonna talk about my sensitive spots, after all.”

“I love your sensitive spots.”

“Focus.”

“I just thought it was something only I did to you, that’s all.”

“You got jealous?”

“Maybe a little?”

Bones relented. “You’re being-”

“Ridiculous, I know.”

“And kind of endearing, but I’ll only say that once.”

“You say many things once. Doesn’t mean I’ll forget them.”

“Oho, you’re kind of asking for it yourself, you know.”

Jim threw up his hands. “Tickle me, then. This whole day’s weird and backwards anyway.”

“You know I would never take your job.”

“Chapel did.”

“Oh, come on. As if you’ve never tickled anyone else before.”

Jim huffed, crossing his arms. “I never said my reaction was logical.”

“You gonna tickle me or not?”

“Are you asking me to?”

Bones did flush then, so rare nowadays. So wonderful. “Shut up. Just shut up.”

Jim barked out a laugh, already approaching him. “Stay still.”

“You know damn well I won’t.”

“I do, but it’s fun watching you struggle.”

“You sadist- wahait!”

Jim cornered him and pushed him down onto the couch, fingers already working over his hips, a spot he was certain no one else knew of. A spot that could make Bones scream so loud Jim had to stop out of fear of accidentally killing him.

Usually he was gentle, starting slow to make him giggle, but Bones had technically tickle cheated on him and that just wouldn’t do. Pinning him beneath his thighs, Jim dug into the sensitive spots, Bones’ clothes doing nothing to help him whatsoever.

Oh, how he laughed. Not a quick little inconvenienced laugh as he squirmed away, but a proper, desperate belly laugh. This was theirs and only theirs. Jim the only one Bones trusted to know this intimately. He was grabbing at Jim’s wrists now, but despite his strength he wasn’t pushing Jim away. Merely steadying himself.

Whatever they were and whatever they had, it always had and always would include this.

“I should tie you up and torture you,” Jim teased, even though he’d never immobilized him during this and only tickled him for a couple of minutes at a time, but Bones had once become a stuttering mess when Jim had threatened this and he did love a flustered Bones, after all.

He was laughing too hard to stutter, but the way he was shaking his head told Jim all he needed to know. His words had left a mark and whatever he did now, wherever he touched, would be more ticklish than usual.

He got to work.

#tickling #ticklish!bones #ticklish!mccoy #mckirk fic #mckirk #star trek fic #star trek #mine #tickle cheating #ana's fics #tickle fic

[fantranslatorbychoice]

Oh glob, what have I gotten myself into? Just some long updates lol XD

Well, the year’s almost over, and it’s already the second half. The first half was too much and to be honest, I had to swim with the circumstances I am in right now so I had to put this passion non-profit project on hold, like seriously. But I did started translating the first few pages as early as December last year, as my very nice benefactor actually sent me the rest of the entire set of the Kakuriyo no Yadomeshi series after sending off the first 4 volumes. Probably read the entire thing first. But hey, free stuff is free so why complain. Plus my benefactor actually got the entire set for a steal, won’t say how much but in Amazon Japan, the last time I checked the whole set is roughly around $150 or a bit around that. and that’s just the first 7 volumes. Probably there’s an entire set now that’s about $200, as the final volume was released around August 2019.

Spoiler alert: the entire light novel series is made up of 10 volumes, so if you read it, the afterword by Yuuma-sensei specifically says that volume 10 is the final one, and Yuuma-sensei feels sad about it.

Yeah I highlighted that part in red, just in case many Kakuriyo fans still have some extreme hunger pangs or are unsure whether the novel series has ended. Here you go, straight from the horse’s mouth. Yuuma-sensei also has another Ayakashi light novel series, 浅草鬼嫁日記, roughly-translated to “Asakusa Wife from Hell Diaries”. Seems fun, they’re literally ogres - Oni living in the real world, like a reverse Kakuriyo thing. Who knows, maybe someday I can score that series too lol. The writer really likes Ayakashi, if it’s not that obvious yet 草 草 草 草  yeah I write kusa lol oml I should stop... But returning to the Kakuriyo series.. I won’t spoil what happened lol but I will probably make a commentary on that once I get the translations up and running.

Which leads me to my next announcement:

I PLAN TO UPLOAD THE DIRECT TRANSLATIONS OF JUST THE INTERMISSIONS/INTERLUDES ( 幕間 ) AND THE AFTERWORDS (あとがき) OF EACH VOLUME.

Chapter 5 is the only complete and full English Translation that I will be uploading here, and the rest will be summarized versions of the chapters plus my translation notes and commentaries.

Bummer, right?

Well, to be honest, after starting my initial translations I ran into several issues which made me feel sucker-punched and added to the stuff I’m worried about:

Issues regarding plagiarism (either my stuff getting plagiarized or potentially being accused of it)

Translating everything actually takes too long, even for me (I’ll explain that later)

More serious issues like possible DMCA-ish complaints (won’t want my hardwork just getting flagged and killed)

Personal stuff piling up and affecting my momentum

To be honest, when I received the books, I was so excited to work with them and upload as much as I can. But lots of things happened one after another, plus the worldwide issue that we have right now, so doing fun stuff wasn’t at the front of my priorities. So at the moment, I am mostly offline, by necessity, like connection is slower and with data cap, so I mostly do my translations with whatever hardcopies of dictionaries that I have on hand, offline. It’s good and all since I can put my skills to the test, but it can be expected that not all of the words are available in the books so I still have to hook on Jisho just to find the missing words I need. So my stuff pretty much looks like this:

I could just take pictures of these and upload them here but the maximum number of pics that tumblr allows is 15, and good glob I have more than 15 pages of translated material. Plus, as you can see above, some parts are untranslated and I had to find them in Jisho once I get online, so right now I have about 50% word-processed with the raw parts cooked, and I only have 12 raw pages remaining to be cooked and hashed lol

Which leads me to my next issues: my slowness (yeah I have to surrender on my slowness) and my fears regarding plagiarism.

I actually only started doing these translations in full blast around 2 months ago, and eventually I had to slow down so I won’t get bogged down since I also do other stuff. But I found out that ploughing through it can get quite draining. I started thinking that fan-subbing and scanlating were easier because aside from working digitally, these were also mostly done in teams so work time gets cut. Well, those were the days lol But for this one, aside from flying solo, I had to use all of my offline resources a lot, like doing everything by hand. It finally broke me about half-way and I had to step away from it, like reaaaaally step away from it. I thought I could finish 50+ pages in a span of a week. Well, I wasn’t exactly wrong there, but I also had other stuff to do, and if I just read it like I would any book without having to do anything, it’s a done deal. But having to translate stuff was draining, I felt frustrated so it broke me. I have to write each page by hand, leave out the words I can’t find or don’t know, and move on to the next page until my body stops working. Rinse and repeat until I could finish about 10 pages and get on with the typesetting and completing the missing parts. That takes a while so I just do my best to be patient.

Then the thoughts of plagiarism popped in and out, like I started thinking how to ensure that my stuff doesn’t get stolen and reposted elsewhere, or worse, getting my site shut down because fan translations are ambiguously illegal, like fansubs and scanlations, and I think those were what got me the most, so I just gave up midway. I’d say ambiguously illegal because if a series or title wasn’t licensed elsewhere then translating it is a fair game. But if it’s already released as a translated version by publishers, then releasing a translated version is like labelled as stealing, even if it’s non-profit. Of course profiteering is the worst, some steal what others work hard for, that they did for free, and sell them off. Scumbags to the bone smh I do my best to be within the fair use thing since I understand how much effort is made in creating content, so at present I have just decided to just put up the intermissions and the afterwords because aside from these being only a few pages long, it’s less likely to get whacked. Plus it’s easier for my psyche to just sum up each chapter and add some comments on it so it won’t be taken down, plus I wont’ be too-attached so even if some nutjobs repost it elsewhere because some people are just unempathetic like that, at least I won’t be as resentful. Plus the afterwords are just so cute, Yuuma-sensei gives off an adorable and relatable vibe, so I feel like aside from just showing off her stories, I think she needs to get signal-boosted too, so people would have an idea on who wrote this hunger-inducing light novel series lol.  I only started to pick up the whole thing again about a week ago, and I still wasn’t fast but at least I got to add at least 20 more pages translated, plus I started to type the first pages and add the missing words so at the very least, I felt some sort of achievement. It gave me some hope, and to be honest I have been doing this to maintain my sanity even for just a bit, so I guess I will do my best to bring Yuuma-sensei’s work out into the world. It’s a really good series, and it got animated into 2 seasons, plus the manga’s out, so that says a lot on how the series caught on. It can’t be denied that it’s a really engrossing series, so I don’t see any reason why this really good series should remain hidden. It probably has a lot of fans but aren’t being too attached into it because of language barriers, and even in my own way, I would like to bridge that gap. I mean, I may have slow internet that can only open mails in basic html but hey, this is the least I could do for the fandom. It’s not like I spew out doujin stuff or anything lol

OK, so summing up this long-ass update:

Chapter 5 - The Mysterious Capital Youto** - coming soon

Will just translate the intermissions and afterwords into English

English summaries of the chapters plus commentaries will be uploaded

Please don’t expect any fast uploads lol it’s not like I do ctrl+A into Google translate and slap it in here. Nothing against doing that but.. uhm, sometimes AI don’t get the nuances translated, and a lot gets lost in translation, so at best, anything done by some trash enthusiast, even noobs can still have some oomph in it that soulless beings can’t even top off. But hey, that’s just my opinion lol

So yeah, there you have it, a long update. Oh, and I changed the name of this blog because I have other raw stuff that I may be able to put here without any fear of being taken down because they’re in the public domain, so they’re all fair game since I don’t get any profit from them anyway and others may also appreciate them too. Hint: One is a series of Japanese classic  fantasy short stories, the other one is a set of instructional manuals on how to write kana and kanji in ballpen and brushpens. They’re a bit lighter so once I get Chapter 5 up I’ll do them as soon as I get rested.

See you all later and thank you for stumbling in this blog. xoxoxo

#personal stuff #blog update #kakuriyo no yadomeshi #kakuriyo no yadomeshi spoilers #yuuma midori

[bigfan-fanfic]

The Bat-dads 4 (Male!Reader x Batfamily)

If anyone has a specific situation they want to request with this reader-character, make sure to mention that you’d like a headcanon for a Batdad!Reader.

It was hard for you to deal with Jason’s death. 

Even though you constantly worried about Dick and Jason being injured or traumatized, it never occurred to you that this was actually a potentially lethal hobby for your husband and sons.

So you were almost as reluctant as Bruce to keep adding to the Wayne Clan

But then along came the next additions to the family.

Tim

You and Bruce had a strained relationship for a while, especially after you advocated for the Joker’s death.

No one knows this, but you practically begged him to kill the Joker, to make sure no one else would have to lose a child, a parent, a friend to his madness ever again.

But when Tim showed up on your doorstep, it was your worst nightmare.

Alfred had disappeared, Bruce was incommunicado, Dick was captured, and the only people able to help were a man untrained in combat and a skinny tween.

But the two of you raid the Batcave for some castoff suits that were still good enough to work.

And that night, there are two Batmen in Gotham, one with a Nightwing and the other with a Robin.

You and Tim use strategy and clever tricks to disable and evade the guards, and eventually free Nightwing and rescue Batman.

Tim is the only one to have actually seen you in vigilante action (you have not gone out since, and his account of your tactical and combat brilliance is a much-requested story)

Black Mask’s men are terrified of you because they thought they had the Bat cornered, and now there’s another one? Like, what???

Tim is basically your son from that moment on. Even if it takes a while for things to work out that way.

Tim usually calls you Y/N, or if he’s sleep deprived, Dad.

He’s perpetually surprised whenever you show interest in what he is doing.

Even if it is only to tell him to “SLEEP, for goodness sakes, Tim!”

Tim plays word games online with you while on patrol. Or online chess. You generally win. It aggravates him to no end.

Whenever he is swamped, you leave bright Post-It Notes for him everywhere you know he’ll look. Sometimes they’ll have instructions, and sometimes an encouraging saying or a smiley face.

He says it’s embarrassing, but they never fail to give him a smiley face of his own.

Sometimes Tim gets confused about how “normal” people interact, so he’ll ask you really odd questions about mundane things. General responses from you are either confused or sarcastic.

“Y/N, how do you say hello to people, but not be, like, all formal about it?”

“Uhh... hi?”

“Y/N, I need to learn how to say goodbye to someone without accidentally saying ‘I love you.’” 

“Well, young Padawan, that will take years of training...”

Tim also secretly likes to geek out with you over fandom.

Trust me, Tim is die-hard for Comic-Con

Your boy has outpaced you so far in fandom that now you just bluff whenever he talks about the latest shows you haven’t seen yet.

He gets no sleep and is always looking at at least three screens, so he definitely is always caught up and instantly blogging about his shows/games/websites/podcasts/assorted other stuff.

He also had to be talked down from hacking the Pottermore website when he was sorted into Slytherin.

It was a tense time for all.

You had to take away his Internet.

And then watch him to make sure he wasn’t being a sneaky-sneak.

Like, sitting in a room staring at him, drinking pure caffeine and just watching him go through Internet withdrawals for an hour and then sleeping for 48.

Seriously, impose a strict sleeping schedule!

Damian

Oh boy.

Oh boy.

Not good.

In the first few days of meeting you, Damian tried to kill you maybe thirty-eight times a day. The only reason you survived is by an insane amount of luck and the constant vigilance of Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Jason, and Tim.

Damian took it as a personal insult that his father prefers you to his mother.

Complained about how useless you seemed

“Y/N isn’t even trained in combat. He’s a liability, Father, you know that.”

Bruce is no help whatsoever

You persevere. You withstand. You even start predicting Damian’s assassination plots before he attempts them and start leaving Post-It Notes for him too, with mocking yet oddly positive messages.

Found on a rafter where Damian had planned to rig a trap that would end with you being hanged: “Tough luck, Damian! Only barely noticed this in time! :)”

Found later on an upstairs banister that Damian only considered tossing something over onto you: “Good idea, but please don’t break anything. Alfred would go crazy! :)”

And this, remarkably, earns Damian’s respect. So he decides, for now, to stop trying to kill you.

But Damian only really comes to see you as a parent after Talia tries to take him back.

You put yourself between them and tell him to run. And Talia is about to kill you when Damian intervenes, surprising everyone. 

You don’t talk about it afterward. But his actions make it clear that the two of you are more family than he and Talia ever could be.

He calls you Papa, with the second syllable stressed.

Jason makes fun of him for this: “Pa-PA? Is this Downton Abbey or something?”

He’s really excited if you’re into his more violent hobbies, like if you take him to see some antique swords at the museum or something, or if you discuss ancient battle strategies, but he’s also excited when you encourage the things he was never allowed to do before.

Like draw. Or skip training

The second one he rarely does, but once in a while you pop into the Batcave and call out that it’s a rest day, and you take Damian and the two of you do something together

Damian is a surprisingly avid performer.

He was in the school musical at Gotham Academy and knocked it out of the park.

He only invited you and Alfred to see him because “TT, only you and Pennyworth can be trusted with such sensitive information.”

But you brought the others anyway, with a warning that anything remotely rude or mocking would be harshly penalized.

Good times were had.

Damian has trouble admitting what he likes. Such as being read aloud to. You noticed once that he always seems calmer when someone is reading something out loud, though he scoffs when asked if he wants to be read to.

So you just started reading everything aloud to see what stuck. Starting with Harry Potter.

Now Damian still doesn’t admit he likes it.

But every so often, when it’s quiet, you’ll notice him put a book on a table where he’s sure you’ll see it and then walk away, pretending he knows nothing about it.

Without fail, you grab the book and go find Damian, who is suddenly engrossed in something on his computer, or a video game, and you ask him to come listen to something.

“TT, must I, Papa? This had better be interesting.”

He always complains, and you always ignore him.

But please, be gentle with cliffhangers - Damian can’t stand them. He’ll beg and plead and threaten for just one more chapter.

#batdad reader #batfamily x male reader #batman x male reader #batman headcanons #batparent reader #dc headcanons #male reader #headcanons

[starshinewriter]

Chapters: 1/4 Fandom: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dewey Duck & Donald Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck & Webby Vanderquack, Della Duck & Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck & Webby Vanderquack, Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck & Scrooge McDuck & Webby Vanderquack, Bentina Beakley & Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck & Webby Vanderquack Characters: Donald Duck, Della Duck, Scrooge McDuck, Bentina Beakley, Huey Duck, Dewey Duck, Louie Duck, Webby Vanderquack Additional Tags: Family Fluff, Parent Donald Duck, Parent Della Duck Summary:

Each of the adults bonding with each of the kids.

Chapter One: Donald

Alternative to ao3:

                                                     Huey

Sometimes after he had had a particularly hard day Huey would go to his Uncle, Donald knew this- which is why he wasn't surprised when his oldest nephew suddenly showed up at his door. He did wish it wasn't happening so much lately though, it wasn't because he didn't like spending time with his boys or anything, quite the contrary actually, it was just cause he always hated when things were hard for them. But, that's what he was there for.

He let his nephew in with an understanding smile and led him to the couch. "Want anything to eat or drink?" There was more to that than just good hospitality, he knew Huey often forgot to take care of himself on days like these and he wasn't sure if his brothers had been around to remind him.  

"Yes, please." So that was a no then. He went to the kitchen to grab some stuff as he wanted for him to start talking.

"I think I wanna quit the Junior Woodchucks." And that made him stop, Huey loved the junior woodchucks, more than he loved anything else, what could possibly make him want to quit? "No one there likes me. All they do is make fun of me and call me a robot, they take all the fun out of it." That was still happening? What were those scoutmasters doing?

Donald sighed as he handed Huey what he had gotten him and sat down. He knew he didn't want to quit, not really, but he also knew how tough dealing with bullies could be. They really did take the fun out of everything. "Geez, kiddo, I'm sorry that's still happening. If that's what you really want... I'm sure you can find something else that entertains you just as much. And if you ever change your mind all you have to do is let me know." Huey looked at his Uncle, not having expected that answer. He fully thought he would try to convince him to stay and stick it out. Well, okay then; he was quitting. Though thinking that, was he sure that's what he really wanted?

No, it wasn't. "I changed my mind!" Donald smiled at him, proud of him for being able to come to that conclusion so quickly. He knew he would, all he needed was a little push. "I wanna stay, I love being a woodchuck! I just wish they would stop..."

"I know. You can't control other people, and that's unfortunate in times like this but it's the truth. But there are other ways. Della and I, we'll talk to the scoutmasters, again, this is going too far and something needs to be done to those kids so they can see that it's not okay. And if that doesn't get them to stop we'll figure something else out, but, Huey, you're not alone in this. We all have your back, no matter what happens." Huey smiled at his Uncle and hugged him.

"Thanks, Uncle Donald. I can't lie and say I feel completely better but it helps to know that."

"I'm glad." He pushed the plate towards him. "Now eat."

Huey took a drink of water, "Yes, Uncle Donald." Donald rubbed his head and started thinking of ways he and his sister could get through to those scoutmasters. He knew Launchpad was there, and would definitely do something about it but the others... they would harder to convince. But he would do it, his nephew was more than worth it.  

_______________________________________________________________

                                                      Dewey

Adventures weren't something Donald went on often, but it was something he was getting better at. He loved being with his family, and after eleven years they were finally whole again. He wasn't gonna miss out on that.

But with adventures came danger and he still wasn't sure if he wanted his kids around that, but he knew he could better protect them if he went with them. So, he had many reasons for going again. Especially when he had kids like Dewey, who ran into things headfirst without a second thought. He was getting better with it to be fair to him, but he still had his moments. Like right now.

Donald didn't blame him, it was the ADHD's fault not his, Dewey couldn't help it and he knew that well. That didn't mean he couldn't be upset about the situation.

After his nephew had run off into a potentially dangerous part of the cave they were currently in Donald had immediately gone after him. He had caught up to him before something bad could happen, thankfully, but it had ended up with them getting lost. And it wasn't like this was the first time Donald had gotten lost, it really wasn't, and it wasn't like he couldn't find his way back to the others, he could, it was just that Dewey had been doing so good lately so he couldn't understand why he backtracked. But they needed to talk about it.

"Dewey," He said to get his attention. "Let's talk."

"Alright. What about?"

Donald gave him a look, "I think you know. Why'd you run off like that? You've been on enough adventures by now to know how dangerous that is. I'm not mad, I just want to know why."

Dewey sighed, why had he done it? He wasn't sure he even knew... But, maybe he did. "I dunno, I guess I just thought it'd impress Mom, silly huh?"

"No, not at all." Donald comfortingly disagreed. Cause the thing was- that made a lot of sense, Dewey adored Della of course he wanted her to have a good impression of him. "But you don't have to, she's your Mom- she already loves you as much as she possibly could. You don't have to prove anything to her, or anyone else. And you certainly don't have to rush into dangerous situations to impress anyone." Donald kissed his forehead. "You're wonderful just the way you are. Now, let's get back to the others."

"How do we Dewey that?"

Donald smiled at him, "I'll show you. And if something like this happens again you'll know what to do."

"Okay, I trust you. You have to have gotten lost a bunch of times by now..."

"Hey!" He mockingly protested as Dewey laughed. Donald playfully shook his head then rubbed Dewey's and the two of them were off, jokingly bickering the whole way.

_______________________________________________________________

                                                        Louie

Cooking was one of Donald's favorite pastimes, and it was also one of Louie's- which led to it being the time they spent the most time together. Louie also tended to open up to him more during that time, something about cooking putting him at a rare ease. Donald wasn't complaining. But this didn't seem to be like one of those times, it was like he was perfectly content, but in a different way. Donald was happy for him, he had grown a lot lately and he seemed much better for it. Not to say he wasn't good enough before, Donald would always think his boys were good enough just for existing, but he was always so... unsure of himself. Like he wasn't certain what his place was, and now he was.

"Careful with the splatter of that, Lou, wouldn't want you to hurt yourself." Donald warned.

"I know, Uncle Donald." He replied, but moved back anyway. "What do you think? Does it look good?"

Donald looked down at the pan, "Looks great. Now we can add the carrots." Louie made a face and Donald laughed. "It'll be good, I promise."

"Carrots are almost as bad as hotdogs!"

"Not the way I make them." Donald said in a sing-songy voice; Louie looked intrigued and he started explaining. He was able to get through the whole explanation without something bad happening, which was unusual but he had learned that his bad luck usually took a back seat while he was cooking. Thankfully, who knew what kind of trouble could happen if it didn't?

"Do you think I could try?"

Donald gestured to the pan, "Go ahead!" Louie started to do so as he watched over him, to make sure he did it right and didn't get hurt. Louie smiled to himself when he noticed that, there was a reason why Donald was his favorite adult and why he loved spending time like this with him. There was also one why he tended to treat him better than he did the other adults, the titles he would call them depended on his mood with them, but Uncle Donald was always Uncle Donald.  

"Thanks for this, Uncle Donald, it's been fun."

He smiled at his nephew, "Anytime, kiddo, it's been fun for me too."

_______________________________________________________________

                                                        Webby

After a hard day's work there was nothing Donald liked more than to relax. And what better way to do that than by watching TV? That was why he was currently camped out in the den- until the inevitable interruption that forced him to get up happened. But for now he was content.

Then he heard a gasp from behind him. "Are you watching Tales of the Barge? Can I watch too?!" Webby, that was definitely Webby. No one else could sound so excited by the idea of watching a boat documentary. Even he, lover of boats and all things water-craft, was only watching it cause nothing else was on. But if she wanted to join him he wouldn't stop her.

"If you want." He felt movement next to him a few seconds later. Oh well, to each their own.

It was silent for a few minutes as the two of them watched the documentary and Donald began drifting off. He didn't mean to, but he was really tired. The couch moved next to him again and he forced his eyes open, he was hanging out with his honorary niece, he couldn't fall asleep. He looked at her and saw she was completely engrossed in the show and smiled to himself, she sure was something else. And he loved her so much for it.

"How was your day?" He asked her at the next commercial break.

She shrugged, "Pretty good. I had a few lessons with Granny, the boys and I played some games- I won most of them, but Dewey thinks he did. Lena, Vi, and I are hanging out tomorrow so that'll be fun! I already have so many ideas for what we can do- oo! Maybe the boys will come along too, it's always funner when it's all of us! Although I hope there's not a repeat of last time... So, how was your day, Uncle Donald?"

"Long." He replied and she laughed. "At least the hard part's over now. So you're really interested in this movie huh?"

She nodded enthusiastically, "You know how much I like learning stuff! I can never know too much!"

He did. "Well, if you wanna learn more about boats I'd be happy to teach you." She gasped,

"Really?" He nodded. "I would love that, thank you, Uncle Donald!" She lunged and hugged him, thankfully he was more than used to being tackled by excited kids and wasn't thrown back at all. He was a bit surprised at how excited she was though, none of the boys were even remotely interested in that kind of stuff. But now he did have someone who was, so really this was a win for both of them. And there also was the bonus that he got to spend more time with her, they really didn't get to hang out much. Well, that was changing now. And he was more than looking forward to it.  

#ducktales 2017 #donald duck 2017 #donald huey dewey louie and webby 2017

[somethingvaguetodo]

I recently got a comment on one of my fics that led to some exploration of Marinette’s interest in Adrien, Chat’s desire for Ladybug’s attention and affection, and their future career and lives together.

I have a lot of thoughts, and didn’t want to put them all in the comments section on AO3, so here we go.

1. Sometimes I think everyone needs a healthy reminder that these are characters in a children’s show. Not that there is any issue with all of this speculation, but sometimes that seems to slip people’s minds. Because it's a kids show, we don't have the same level of insight into the characters thoughts and motivations as we would if it were an adult drama, simply because the focus of the story is supposed to be on the action and the fight of good versus evil.

2. On Marinette’s interest in fashion - this conversation began around the fact that, in my story, Marinette attends one of Adrien’s photoshoots and is so engrossed in the fashion that she occasionally forgets to freak out over Adrien. Apparently, that made it seem like her interest in fashion is more than her interest in Adrien, and that she cares more about the “clothes” than the “boy.” Even though this is not my interpretation of my writing, I’m unclear as to how that is a bad thing. While she is young, Marinette is serious about becoming a fashion designer as her future career. We’ve seen her in the show make strides toward that goal, even when it is unrelated to Adrien. We saw her give up probably the most amazing opportunity possible - going to New York with Audrey Bourgeois, so that she could stay in Paris to protect the city, something else that, according to the comment, she apparently doesn’t care about as much as fashion. It particularly bothers me to hear that Marinette should be prioritizing her crush on a boy more than her interest in a career. Liking fashion does not mean that she does not care about Adrien, but it means that she is allowed to have her own interests and passions in life, unrelated to love and romance. We should be encouraging young girls to have these passions and interests, and not limit themselves to only focusing on love and the attention of boys. I thought society had moved past that a little bit, as it is a very patriarchal view of women's value in the working world.

3. On their futures - so if Marinette pursues this career in fashion, apparently the only future for them will be Adrien being miserable in taking over his father's company, or will be "forced" into the role of stay-at-home dad. First, there is ABSOLUTELY nothing wrong with being a stay-at-home parent, and a lot of people choose to do that out of a genuine desire to be a parent and not be in the workforce (also, taking care of children is often a lot more difficult work than most office jobs). I know that the fandom has made it an idea that Adrien wants to study physics, be a teacher, or stay at home, but there is nothing confirmed in the show, so we can all have our own thoughts and opinions on what his career goals might be. But with this explanation, we are making it out that, by being ambitious in pursuing a job, Marinette is "evil" and will turn into a replica of Gabriel leaving Adrien neglected and in charge of the children. (Which, coincidentally, is what the patriarchal view of stay-at-home mothers is. Let's not perpetuate that by turning it on it's head). Women are allowed to have a career and a family - it's 2020 not 1950.

4. On babies - there was a little tidbit thrown in on how, if they separate and come back to each other in their late 20s, it will dramatically push back the age at which they have children. I'm really struggling to wrap my mind around this one. My mother was in her mid-30s when I was born. I'm turning 26 in two weeks, I'm single, I definitely want a family in the future, but by no means do I consider myself getting too old for that. I am the youngest person in my social circle, and NO ONE I know has children. Only one person I know is actually married, and that ceremony happened one month ago to someone she has dated for 10 years. I'm not trying to say that this is the norm, but definitely from what I've seen, in major cities (I'm from the suburbs of NYC, went to college and grad school in the city) people don't have children in their early 20s, especially if they are also focused on establishing a career. These are personal choices, and I would never tell someone they should or shouldn't have children, but let's stop telling women that if they aren't married and settled down by their late 20s, it's too late. That's disgusting. 

5. Adrien's psyche - switching gears, I was then told that Adrien (as Chat Noir) is a wreck around Ladybug only because he's "reacting to her like he reacts to his father" and she in turn "ignores, belittles, or forgets he even exists for extended periods of time." As much as this bothers me on a level of inaccuracy in the show, let's get a little into psychological theory. Here's a crash course on CBT (trust me, you don't want the course on psychoanalytic theory). All of our thoughts, feelings, and behaviors that we have as a reaction to people and circumstances we encounter on a daily basis are influenced by our core beliefs. Core beliefs are the way that we think about ourselves, other people, and the world, that are created by the foundational early experiences we have. I like to say that core beliefs are like the lenses that we wear as we look at the world - they color the way that we interpret what's coming in. So, for example, if one of Adrien's core beliefs is that he is unlovable (possibly from a childhood that was emotionally neglectful), his automatic thought in a negative encounter with his father could be: "He doesn't love me because I'm not good enough to be loved." Then, there are conditional beliefs, or rules that allow you to adjust to the core belief without a feeling of incapacitating psychological distress. So for this situation we would have: "If I can be up to his standards of perfection, I will be good enough and then he will love me." This means that Adrien will strive towards perfection to please his father, because he believes that is the condition on which he will be able to earn that love. This is not at all what we see with Chat Noir and Ladybug. Chat Noir never strives toward perfection with her, but is comfortable being his natural, goofy, flirty, joking self. His love confessions are sincere and genuine, and he has taken rejection in a mature and emotionally competent manner. Never has Ladybug ignored or belittled him, or forgotten his existence, and without a real window into her mind 24/7 it is a real stretch to say any of those things. Instead, we have to remember that she is her own person, with her own set of core beliefs (if you are looking at who the real perfectionist is in the story, its HER) that she brings to every interaction just like Chat does. 

Overall, I'm tired of the salt (particularly this against Marinette, who isn't doing anything wrong in canon or fanon), and the harmful rhetoric around women that can really change the way that young women think. At the end of the day, these characters are canonically 14 years old. They are allowed to be flawed, they are allowed to still be figuring things out, just like real teenagers. 

Be kind to each other.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug analysis #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #chat noir #mlb #my thoughts #please let me know if you agree/disagree

[quarterfromcanon]

1-4. For the asks

Thank you so much for sending these! <3 

Once I started to answer them, I realized there were comparatively few recent television shows appearing on the list. I seemed to keep gravitating toward older ones I remembered from years ago. I took a handful of days to mull it over in case I was forgetting something, but nothing else comes to mind. Maybe my ongoing list of Shows to Watch During Quarantine will turn up some fresh results but, for now, it looks like I’ll be taking a little trip down memory lane. :) 

This turned out to be a pretty long and rambly post, so I’ll stow it under the cut!

Top 5 TV Shows 

1. Crazy Ex-Girlfriend - I can’t imagine this surprises anyone who has been following this blog for the past two years or so. It brought fellow fans into my life, got me back into writing fic, and prompted countless tags of meta. It’s the show my mind drifts to on a weekly basis (if not daily) even a full year after the finale. Just when it seemed I’d reached an age where that level of intense fandom involvement and character attachment might be fading, it proved that quite the opposite was true. I’m very thankful to the series for that, and for the people whose paths have crossed mine as a result.   

2. Schitt’s Creek - This is my #1 Feel Good show and, though I’ve been dodging spoilers for the final season until it gets uploaded to Netflix, I get the impression that it will remain in that top spot. The world feels softer and more hopeful there. It’s healing for my soul. I’m going to have a dreadfully difficult time saying goodbye, but I’m glad there are six season to revisit whenever I want. 

3. Stranger Things - The theme song alone sends such a rush of excitement through me. I love the aesthetic and the atmosphere. I sometimes have mixed feelings about the romances but the FRIENDSHIPS sure do have a direct line to my heartstrings. I think the way they’ve combined media influences into their own story is really neat. You get something that’s new and engaging, but you can also go back and enjoy the sources of inspiration with fresh appreciation. 

4. Joan of Arcadia - I can’t help it. The snark, the jackets, the early 2000s songs, the performances -- the nostalgia for this show is so strong. It’s not without its problems, but it did have some really good things to offer as well. I remember an episode that was one of my earliest introductions to the concept of a trigger, and the effect it could have on a person if exposed to one of theirs. The series dealt a lot with grief and the many forms it can take (I STILL can’t hear Fiona Apple’s cover of “Across the Universe” without getting misty-eyed). I’m also surprised, looking back, at the somewhat positive way I recall them discussing homosexuality on the several occasions that it came up in the show. Not to give too much credit since I don’t think there were recurring canonically LGBTQIA+ characters but, for a kid who spent most days around closed-minded people of a certain religious leaning, it was meaningful along my individual journey. I’d like to provide the several examples that are most vivid in my memory:

A. A girl with short hair, short nails, little to no makeup, and a bulky leather jacket is generally assumed to be a lesbian by the bullies at school. The show directly confronts the fact that “gay” should not be used an insult, that identity should not be assumed without the person telling you so, AND makes sure that the character in question never pushes back by saying harmful things about lesbians despite not actually being one herself. 

B. A boy who is questioning is able to confide in his big brother and have a fairly calm conversation about it; the awkwardness mostly comes from neither of them being accustomed to openly discussing emotions, not from the possibility of a negative response regarding the subject matter. 

C. Another character is accidentally discovered to be gay (he only appears in the one episode, if my memory serves), and some of the leads have the opportunity to share that for personal gain. However, even though he is a popular jock who is a bit of a jerk in the hallways, the show makes it clear that the right choice is still to leave the telling of that information up to him and him alone. 

Like I mentioned, it can’t be said that representation was in abundance here - for instance, I don’t believe anything other than straight or gay was presented as a possibility - but any accepting acknowledgement in a faith-centric series was something for me to hold on to in my still-deeply-closeted days. As a final Very Important personal side note, this show brought Judith Montgomery into my life (pictured below on the left), and that feels like it merits a shoutout for being what I consider a rather significant marker in my awakening. 

THE OVERWHELMING CRUSH I HAD - and still have - is one for the books. 

5. Pushing Daisies - This is another show with an aesthetic I adore. The series has such a fun, whimsical energy. The crime-solving! The clothes! The cast! There's a lot to love. It’s the kind of world I wish I could visit... well, minus the evidently rampant murder rate. 

Top 5 Overrated TV Shows

1. Once Upon A Time - *deep sigh* I tried to stick with it for so long. I think I’ve seen five out of the seven seasons in their entirety. It just felt like everything got mired down by excessive (and increasingly convoluted) subplots, often for the purpose of tossing in as many fairytale and/or Disney characters as possible. Plus, quite honestly, there was too much emphasis on romantic love. For a show whose first season involved a curse being broken by [potential spoiler, I suppose] a mother kissing her son’s forehead, I ultimately found myself up to my ears in romantic ships. It reached such a stifling extent that, if you were not particularly attached to those pairings, there wasn’t a whole lot else to entice further viewing. 

2. Under the Dome - I don’t know for certain what the general public opinion of this series was, but it felt like the commercials always featured alleged rave reviews, so I figured I could include it here. I was vaguely interested in Season 1, mainly as a fan of Rachelle Lefevre’s work. Season 2 pulled me in with the introduction of a new townsperson and I threw WAY too much of my heart into that attachment, which backfired when that character was killed. I made quite the spectacle of my heartbreak, so much so that my family doesn’t let me mention this show around them anymore. :P Season 3 was, to phrase it delicately, not a great time. The series did introduce me to a few new-to-me actors, though, so that was cool. 

3. Bates Motel - Even the incentive of learning that the two characters I liked most share a lot of screen time later in the series hasn’t been enough to call me back to this one. I don’t know if it was the pacing that put me off or what, but the prospect of finishing the remaining seasons feels so daunting. There are evidently five seasons in total and I believe I’ve only seen two of them thus far. I will probably muddle through it someday just to see how it goes, but the fact that I am so disinclined to prioritize it made this feel like a fair addition to the list. 

4. Lost - My interest in this series unfortunately waned right before fervent fandom spiked. I don’t have any specific complaints that come to mind about what I saw; I just sort of drifted and then stayed away. Teachers I liked and peers I spent time with were starting to latch on to the show and I couldn’t find even the slightest inclination to give it a second try. However, did I still dutifully read all the latest installments in my friend’s Sawyer Ford and Kate Austen fanfiction when she passed me handwritten copies at lunch? Sure. I was glad it made her happy, even if I was no longer a viewer. 

5. Hemlock Grove - I say this as someone who still mourns the fates of some characters in this show, so I wouldn’t go so far as to claim that the series stopped being able to make me feel anything. I’m just of the opinion that, in some ways, it might’ve been better off stopping at one season. That’s where the book it was based on ends, and things just didn’t feel as cohesive after that. Season 3 especially was - borrowing from my above review of Under the Dome - not a great time. That being said, there are also certain elements from the book that I could’ve done without in the Season 1 adaptation but... well... here we are. 

Top 5 Underrated TV Shows

1. Picnic at Hanging Rock - Another one that won’t surprise followers of this blog. I have rhapsodized about it quite frequently since I found it a little over a month ago. It’s a period piece mystery miniseries with LGBTQIA+ representation, gorgeous costumes, and Samara Weaving. This felt specifically designed to wedge its way into my heart, and I’m quite content with the space it now occupies.

2. Dark - I’m so intrigued by the overlapping timelines with all of the morally gray characters. It’s possible to like one of these people in the timeline where they’re young but dislike them as adults, or vice versa. It also makes me think of Rant by Chuck Palahniuk a little tiny bit with the idea that time travel, specifically tampering with your own timeline, might make you physically and behaviorally unrecognizable to yourself. And the SONG CHOICES! I have gotten some solid new music selections from this series. 

3. Sense8 - I still need to watch the finale. I really do. But I knew it would make me sad so I’ve avoided it for... two years now? Pretty close, I think. The concept is fascinating and the cast is so strong. Plus the cinematography! They came up with some of the coolest ways to depict the link these characters share and what it’s like when they connect over distance. The planning and careful editing it all must’ve taken... I remain in awe. 

4. Penny Dreadful - There were definitely some story/writing choices I didn’t particularly like along the way, but I did get engrossed in the creepy goodness and the performances -- Eva Green’s Vanessa Ives most of all. It left me wishing for more period piece “monster mash” stories, because having all those classic characters in one place was a blast. It also helped me understand why Helen McCrory was once slated to play Bellatrix Lestrange because she can be terrifying. Oh and Sarah Greene in her Wild West outfits? Perdita Weeks with short red hair in fencing garb, and later in all leather with boots and a long jacket? I WAS NOT PREPARED AND I HAVE STILL NOT RECOVERED. I NEVER WILL.

5. Wonderfalls - There’s some cringe-inducing handling of certain representation in the series, but I have such a weak spot for quippy outcasts who become reluctant chosen ones (Joan Girardi in Joan of Arcadia, Wynonna Earp, Jaye Tyler in this series, et cetera). I also really love the sibling dynamics here. They bicker, tease one another, help each other out of trouble, and have rare but genuine heart-to-hearts. Caroline, Lee, and Katie all did such a great job blending their characters’ adult personalities with certain childhood attributes that rise to the surface in the presence of family.  

Top 5 Movies

1. Addams Family Values - I’ve rewatched this movie at least once annually since I found it in Media Play at age 13. Usually, I’ll play it around Halloween or, at the latest, Thanksgiving. It’s mouth-along-with-every-line level ingrained in my memory. I find myself leaning forward in my seat before favorite parts because I’m still that excited to relive them. Why this movie, and why this devotion to such a degree? It’s hard to explain, even to myself. I can tell you, however, that I hold up every other portrayal of the Addams characters to the versions found in this. Everybody in the cast just feels that perfect for their part. 

2. Clue - I was already pretty fond of this movie to begin with, but then my sister got older and claimed it as a favorite of her own, so now she just supplies me with further excuses to watch it repeatedly. It’s also been a bonding piece of media with a couple of close friends and such through the years. It’s incredible to think not everyone in it was the first choice for their roles; what everybody brings to the table is so top-notch that I wouldn’t have it any other way. I also LOVE knowing that it originally went to theaters with different endings depending on which showing you attended. I gather people weren’t terribly thrilled with the stunt back then, but I kinda think some moviegoers would be into that approach these days? Then again, one hit that tried something different tends to start a fad, so maybe I’d end up regretting the suggestion after a while. :P

3. The Craft - This. Movie. Yes, Act III is a major bummer even though I know it’s coming, and I’ll always wish it ended differently. Even so. This. Movie. I tend to headcanon mostly for shows and sometimes books, but The Craft is a beloved exception. I love so much about it: the magic, the music, the clothes, the settings, the dynamics within the friend group, the performances. I had no idea when I first got the DVD at 17 that it would become such a part of my life, but I’m so glad it found its way to me. 

4. Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion - The soundtrack is a glorious ’80s and ’90s treat for my ears. The colorful costumes are perfectly suited to the main characters’ version of the world. There are so many great lines and it feels like everyone is having a lot of fun in their roles. I LOVE HEATHER MOONEY SO MUCH. She’s my awful, scathingly sarcastic, little grungy grump and she fills my heart with joy. 

5. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King - I was pretty sure at least one of the three had to appear on here. I think, if I were to tally them all up, The Return of the King features most of my favorite moments, so it wins the spot. “I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you!”, ‘Edge of Night,’ Éowyn in battle, The Army of the Dead, ‘Into the West’... I end up crying during the end credits every time. So, yeah, ultimately, I would choose the third part of the trilogy if I could only watch one. 

Phew, that’s it! All the questions answered, all the shows and movies listed! Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read it all, and thanks again to @monaiargancoconutsoy for sending in the prompts! <3

#About Me #Answered Asks

[darkhymns-fic]

New Year, New Rules

Rita is too engrossed in her work to even think about the celebrations happening just outside her walls. But Estelle comes in to remind her with the help of a new friend.

It -is- the Year of the Rat, after all.

Fandom: Tales of Vesperia Characters/Pairing: Rita Mordio/Estellise Sidos Heurassein Rating: PG Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: A New Year’s fic written for @taco-night-frenzy​. I had to get this down before it got away from me. Love you!!!

--

Another noise outside, something like crackling or thunder. It rumbled through the castle floors, made the chemistry vials on their racks shake. Rita sighed in exasperation. How annoying. Her weather instruments hadn’t told her there would be a storm in the Imperial Capital tonight. Maybe a war had suddenly started. That wasn’t her concern though. She kept the curtains shut and continued in her work.

Rita usually didn't tolerate interruptions. The few who visited her had to learn quickly on what things were even allowed in her research lab. First off, Karol was completely off-limits in any capacity. He could stand at the door if he really wanted to, but one step too close to her vials and she would leap from her chair and smack him right out into the hallway. Karol eventually learned of this very important rule. Just because she was staying at Zaphias Castle for the time being didn’t mean that everyone could just waltz in whenever they pleased.

Yuri at least understood. He took one look at her door, shrugged and waved, and was already on his way. Flynn would pass by with his curious glances, until Rita got a little sick of it and slammed the door in his face. Not like he could arrest her for being rude, despite how much he probably wanted to.

The only exception was Estelle, who would always politely knock and ask to be invited in before doing anything else.

As Rita was smoothing over some papers to read over her latest research, she heard that same knock. She didn’t bristle or flinch at the sound – she could tell when it was Estelle or one of the annoying castle guards by their knocks. One was heavy-handed, clearly didn’t care what dangerous chemicals she was handling, while the other was as quiet as a mouse. Maybe there was some slight annoyance that she had to strain her ears to even hear it sometimes.

“Come in,” she said automatically, not even turning around or waiting for Estelle to call out to her. Maybe she had missed tea time? She only dimly realized that the hour was getting late.

“Rita, I’m glad you’re awake.” There were soft footsteps, followed by the click of the door. “Oh, are you still working?”

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” Rita cared for the girl, but sometimes she did wonder at Estelle’s questions that called for such obvious answers. “It’s the new formula I was telling you about… Besides, I can’t even sleep if I wanted to. There’s such a loud racket outside! I thought this place had like a royal curfew or something.”

A brief glance back and she caught the gleam of Estelle’s clothes – white interlaced with the pink hem of her dress. The princess had come by to see her a lot ever since Rita finally took up Estelle’s offer to stay in the castle. A large room to conduct her experiments in, free meals when she would remember to leave said room to go and eat, and those visits from Estelle, accompanied by sweet-tasting tea and cookies that always seemed to be freshly baked.

But Estelle hadn’t brought in any tea or cookies, though it appeared that she was holding something in her cupped hands. “Rita, do you not know what day it is today?”

“Um…” Rita scrunched her eyebrows, her brain too muddled with equations and chemical names to remember something as mundane as the date. “Isn’t it the last week of Bluerre? No, wait, that’s the old calendar system…”

“Rita! It’s New Year’s Eve! Don’t tell me you forgot!” Estelle rushed up in front of her, bouncing on her toes so much that her hair bounced along with her. “The noises outside are the fireworks! I was coming by to ask if you wanted to celebrate it with me.”

Rita blinked. “Oh, is that all it was?” Outside where there were crowds, and people shouting, and so much noise that she could barely think? She waved it off. “Not really in the mood for it. I’m in the middle of stuff anyway so you can just… Estelle, what’s that in your hands?”

It seemed as if Estelle had just been waiting for the chance to tell Rita all about it. Biting her lip in excitement, she held out her hands towards the other girl. "It's the year of the mouse, Rita! See? Look how adorable he is."

For indeed, she was holding a small animal in her hands. It was busy eating one of those shortbread cookies that Estelle would always bring to tea time, its pink tail swishing behind them as they nibbled quite furiously on the snack. It looked kind of weird though…

“Mice are such clever little animals, you know. They remind me of you a lot!” Estelle smiled brightly, looking as if she was in heaven by holding the animal. “I found this one in my room. A cat was trying to eat the poor thing but I was able to save him in time. I think it’s a sign of good fortune! This year will definitely be a good one now!”

Rita, only half-listening to Estelle’s musings, had been staring at the animal the entire time. She raised her eyes, her face expressionless. "...That's a rat, Estelle."

The fireworks continued to shake the sky outside. Only now did their light seep through the curtains, lighting up the stone floors. A mix of red and green, of sapphire and gold, and so many more to usher in the new year.

Neither of the women paid attention. Estelle stared wordlessly before turning back to the animal, still eating the cookie without a care in the world. "Hm? Oh no, he’s a mouse! Look, he’s got these round ears and-"

"It's a rat, Estelle! And not even a regular rat! That’s a monster rat! A Ratwigle!” Okay, that had come out a bit louder than she meant it to, but a weird panic was gripping her by seeing this…creature so close to her instruments, to her notes, to her chemicals and everything. “It's also the year of the rat! There’s no ‘mouse’ anything!" A pause. "You brought a Ratwigle into my research lab! Estelle, I have rules for that!"

Of course, she had just kept yelling like an idiot. Estelle made no visible reaction, already used to Rita’s random outbursts. But the mouse (Ratwigle?!) wasn’t.

It had jumped at the shouting, instinct soon taking over. It bounced out of Estelle’s hands to jump right onto the floor and then continued to bounce and roll underneath the tables with all its precious vials and papers. Because it was a Ratwigle. Maybe a baby Ratwigle even?

Rita screeched. "Get it away get it away!" She knew she should have gotten one of the city cats in here!

“Rita! Calm down! I can call him back, don’t worry!” But the princess’ calm tone could barely be heard over the fireworks that only seemed to get even louder. Were they setting them off in the next room? Rita could barely hear herself think, but she could see all too well the little rat rolling across the floor like a ball.  

Some of her notes and books had been left on the floor as well – the way she researched had never been the most organized but it had never really mattered that much before. Seeing the rat make its way to one book, Rita visibly recoiled at the sight. “Don’t touch that!”

“Rita! Hold on! Here, it’s okay, little mousey. Come here, it’s okay!”

“Don’t let it poop on my research!” Rita held out her hand, fingers thrumming. “Fire ball!!”

“Rita, no!”

--

In the end, there were only a few scorch marks on the stone floors, and only one research paper singed. All in all, things had lucked out well enough. Except that rat was still very much alive.

Rita was seated within a far corner of her lab as Estellle finally coaxed the animal back to her with another cookie. A big waste of food, if Rita was concerned.

“I have him now, Rita,” she said, holding the creature within her palms. “Are…are you okay?”

“Do I look okay?!” Rita snapped, before biting her lip. She thought she had gotten better control of her temper by now. “Sorry…just, keep that thing away from me.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea you were afraid of mice.” Estelle patted its white fur, so gently that her fingers only ghosted across its back. “I just wanted it to be a fun surprise.”

“I don’t like pests, that’s all. I’m not afraid of them!” At least, she mostly wasn’t. If she had seen that thing out in the streets, then whatever. But not in her lab, with all of her precious materials (which she had nearly burned up, but that wasn’t the point). “Just, it could be crawling with diseases, you know! Did it bite you? You need to tell me these things!”

“Oh, he hasn’t bit me at all! He’s so friendly. I was thinking of keeping him, in case he has no other family.”

Only then did Rita notice something in the way Estelle talked about the rat. “You keep calling that thing a ‘he?’ How do you even know that it’s a boy?”

“Hm? Oh, well I checked earlier and-”

“Okay, never mind! That’s weird. You’re weird.” Rita pouted, folding her arms as she stayed seated in her corner. Like she could ever understand rats anyway, but here was Estelle, the rat expert. Ratwigle, even.

Estelle, seated with her new Ratwigle friend on the floor, kept looking up at Rita, then back to the animal/monster. The little creature was huddled up and shaking slightly, clearly agitated by previous events. Sort of like a certain person sitting in the corner…

“Would it be okay if I sat next to you?” she asked politely.

Usually, this wasn’t an issue, but Rita eyed the Ratwigle that was between her and the princess. She sighed. “Yeah, just…no sudden movements or anything.”

“Okay!” And like that, Estelle basically skipped to Rita before sitting on her knees before Rita. All while she was holding the Ratwigle precariously in her hands.

Rita stared, a frown on her lips. “You hold that thing like it was your baby or something.” She had said that bluntly, then inwardly winced once hearing it. Great, now she had just compared Estelle to a rat…Ratwigle…

“Ah, you think so? I was thinking how this reminded me of the time we took care of that baby! Remember? We had to feed it and make it go to sleep…” Estelle recalled the memory so brightly that Rita also couldn’t help but think back to it too. “I think this little guy must be very young too. He’s so small!”

Rita kept eyeing the ‘little guy,’ its weird fur and the way it just didn’t have any legs. Wasn’t this from the sewer below? “…Yeah, and we had to change its diaper and everything. And then there was that one time it threw up on me! Ugh, had to wash my shirt like six times.” She looked at the Ratwigle again, on how it was now washing its dark fur with its tongue, no longer as flighty or nervous as before. It seemed to have some trouble bending, since it was shaped like a perfect sphere and all. “At least this thing’s poop would be easier to handle.”

Estelle laughed, shuffling just a bit closer to Rita. “You think so? Maybe you can do the clean-up duty for me.”

“Hey, I never agreed to that!” She glared at the Ratwigle that now acted like everything was all okay, no problem. “It’d just run… roll away from me anyway.”

“Aw, that’s not true, Rita.”

“Estelle, it literally just did exactly that five minutes ago.”

“Well, that’s because you were shouting… When you don’t shout, most animals would be able to warm up to you.”

Rita shrugged, wondering why she was seeking the approval of a baby monster of all things. “Cats are good enough for me.”

But that was a talent of Estelle’s – making friends with anyone so easily, finding the little positives in even the most tactless of things. Rita moved a little closer as well, though she still kept up her pout.

“So, are you actually keeping it?”

“I would like to,” Estelle confessed, looking down at Ratwigle. It snuffled around her palm, apparently content to stay there instead of getting away. “But I’m sure it already has a home. I just wanted to help keep it alive into the new year at least.”

Rita thought on it. “Maybe it is a sign…or something.” Even if she thought omens and fortunes were bogus. “Wait, so you weren’t outside celebrating with everybody?”

Estelle raised her head to Rita. “No. I didn’t see a need to. When I found this little mouse, I thought that maybe… well, never mind. It wasn’t too important anyway. I didn’t mean to get in the way of your work.”

Sometimes, Rita really was an idiot. She groaned. “Dammit… I’m sorry.”

“Huh? But I just came in here and messed up all your research-”

“Gah, let me apologize already! Of course I’d like to spend New Year’s with you! I always like spending time with you!” She huffed, then turned her gaze to the floor. “I just get caught up in stuff and then act stupid about it.”

But she couldn’t even hear the fireworks anymore. Perhaps the celebration was already over and she had made Estelle miss out on something that could have been so fun for her.

The princess had moved so much closer that their knees now touched, and she couldn’t avoid the rat-mouse-whatever it was in-between them anymore. Yeah, it was kinda close… but from this angle, she supposed it looked mildly cute.

“I don’t think I would have had the courage to ask you if it weren’t for my new friend,” Estelle said, her voice soft and shy. “Do you think you can make it up to me then?”

Just relieved that Estelle hadn’t rebuffed her apologies, Rita nodded. “I mean, sure, of course. What is it?”

“Well, on New Year’s Eve, it’s supposed to be customary to kiss someone!” Estelle laughed nervously, her eyes darting around in shyness, but her smile forming. “Usually on the very minute it turns into the new year. It’s supposed to bring good luck, so I thought-”

Rita leaned in to kiss Estelle. She was surrounded by the scent of cherry blossoms, all within the brash aura of chemicals still piping away in their vials, within the ember still scorched onto the stone floors.

She kissed her and felt the softness that melded its way down her chest into her legs, shutting her eyes. It wasn’t long before Estelle pressed back, sounds leaving her throat, whether of surprise or something else, Rita couldn’t really know.

Then, just as quickly, Rita leaned back, turning to the side. She didn’t need to even feel her face to know how red it was. “Sorry that was kinda late, but…tried to make up for it.”

She only flicked her eyes back quickly to catch Estelle’s expression – her cheeks also red, her mouth half-parted, nearly inviting another kiss. Was that what she wanted? Maybe she should try that again, but if Estelle was silent, maybe she hadn’t done a good job…

“Did you use your tongue?” Estelle asked rather bluntly, more curious than accusing.

Rita froze, then stuttered out, “I-I said I was m-making up for it! And…that’s a thing people do!” Right? Wasn’t that a thing people did? Or had Yuri just been messing with her when he suggested her to try that? Dammit, if he did, she was going mess him up later. Actually, what kind of conversation had they been having that he would tell her that anyway?

“Ah, sorry! It was just… a surprise! But, a very nice surprise…” Estelle giggled, pressing both hands to her cheeks. “It really felt so nice. Thank you, Rita. Um, do you think we could…”

At that, Rita was already guessing to her suggestions. She was seated up straight, eyes riveted to Estelle’s lips and remembering how sweet it had been and- Wait a minute.

“Estelle,” she said carefully, looking at the girl’s hands, still pressed to her face. “Where did the rat go?”

“…Eh?”

“The rat, Estelle. The Ratwigle!” She pointed frantically at Estelle’s lap. “Didn’t you just have it a minute ago?”

She felt something shifting in her lap just then. With wide eyes, she looked down.

“Remember to not shout, Rita!” Estelle warned quickly.

And maybe Rita listened to Estelle, staying as calm as she could be and making friends with a rat friend. Or maybe she let all sense leave her and tried to get the rat as far away from her as possible, her artes going a little haywire, her lab getting a little more chaotic with each panicked yell.

It didn’t matter either way. It was a new year, with new rules she would just have to get used to. She could adjust, eventually – as long as Estelle was by her side.

#ristelle #tales of vesperia #rita mordio #estellise sidos heurassein #tales of #happy new year #fanfiction #one shot

[windschildfanfictionwriter]

Writer’s Cut: Spitfire

I was going to do Ginny first from Stay Standing, but there is this one scene that I keep thinking about and recent discussions on Hermione had these thoughts at the forefront. 

The scene is very specific and very short: Hermione talking to Hannah. 

“Let’s go. We’ll have better luck talking to the locals.” ... “Show them the pictures. If they look like they recognize them then send up the signal. Understood?” 

“I’ve been working on my patronus,” Hannah said quietly. 

“Have you managed it?” Hermione asked, only half paying attention. 

“Not yet, but I’m close.”

“Then I fail to see how that affects us right now. Use the signal.” 

I keep going back to this small piece because when I first started Spitfire ages ago, my best friend took a look at this scene and it upset her. She’s a Hermione stan. She claimed it was too harsh. That Hermione was not this callous. It sparked a bit of an argument between us actually. Especially when she ‘softened’ my words by editing the scene in my document. 

Obviously the books demonstrate time and time again that Hermione can be this ‘callous.’ For me though, this wasn’t a callous moment. It was simply Hermione being absentminded. She is working on a case and she is going to get it done. I figured without Ron around, she would be even more focused on her work and less focused on those around her. 

Hermione’s character, one of her bigger traits in the books, is that she neglects people for books. She becomes so engrossed in her work and in her studies that she doesn’t really interact with the people around her. She is never purposefully cruel, never intentionally callous, but she does come across that way sometimes. She’s very passionate, and very determined to be right all the time, she goes so far as to ignore other possible solutions because they did not come out of a book. That’s a dangerous line of thinking and a dangerous way to live. 

She fails to understand her classmates. How she acted callously with Lavender when her rabbit died just to make a point. How she gets angry with Ron because he doesn’t enjoy school work and puts it off. How she doesn’t get along with her room mates despite the books showing that they’re perfectly fine people. How she looks down on people like Fred and George who focus more on making jokes and building a career from clever inventions than the traditional means of schoolwork and higher authority. 

Hermione is a flawed character and the readers (some) can see that, but the narrator can not. 

That’s where the problem lies. 

The narrator has this tone when it comes to describing what Hermione is doing as if Harry and the others are wrong for trying to tell Hermoine off for being too strict, for working herself into the ground, for being unbending. 

This means that even when the characters point out Hermione is wrong, the narration does not. Which has resulted in the idea that Hermione is ALWAYS right even when at first it seems she is wrong. 

Hermione callously tells Ron its the natural order for a cat to want to eat his pet. 

Well, that pet turns out to be a Death Eater, so Hermione is right in her actions. 

Lavender loves a subject that Hermione is against and she uses Lavender’s pets death as an example of the faults in Devinitions?

Well, the teacher is clearly a fraud who doesn’t know what she’s doing. 

Hermione attacks Ron with birds. 

But the narration reads like Ron is a villain for kissing another girl. He deserved physical abuse for not talking to Hermione for a week with no explanation. He deserves to be seen as the bad guy for having a girlfriend when the Hermione Granger admits she wanted to ask him to Slughorns party, but maybe she won’t now if Ron thought it was stupid. 

Hermione attacks Ron with her fists, hitting him over and over again. 

Again though, its okay, because Ron left them. Discard everything else. It is okay to physically hit and hurt someone because they had a moment of weakness. This scene is treated as if Ron deserves this. 

Hermione gives Ron the cold shoulder from here on out. 

But its okay because Ron is the problem. He deserves it. He needs to earn her forgiveness. 

No matter if Hermione Granger is wrong or right, the narration always puts her on a pedestal. Which has led to an unhealthy view of her character. 

When I wrote this piece and my best friend got so upset with me for this small moment of humanization, I realized how truly frightening the narration in the Harry Potter books is. To see humanization as a terrible thing. 

I tried to explain this to my best friend, but the words would not come. Instead it very quickly escalated into arguing about how she thought I clearly hated Hermione. Which sometimes I do hate her, not because I don’t like Hermione Granger as a character, but because I hate the narration that has been done within the course of the books. 

The whole point of Spitfire, what it was born out of, was this idea that these characters are human. Harry got a character arc, but at times it feels as if he lacked completely in getting an emotional character arc. 

Hermione lacks any form of character development in the books. She is the same person she was... a little older, a little more mature, but she has not grown in character. She has not struggled to overcome any of her faults. She has been ‘proven correct’ time and time again. 

Hermione does not approve of the Half Blood Prince notes that clearly demonstrate an understanding of the subject? 

Well, its a Death Eaters notes and the man kills Dumbledore. Right again, Miss. Granger! Absolutely wonderful! 

I wanted Hermione to face some of her flaws in this story, to be put in a position where she recognizes she’s in the wrong and must apologize and tries to make things right. Because she never has. 

Her arc in this story, that I’ve finally finished writing out, is absolutely wonderful. Not to spoil too much, but I began with a beautiful train scene where Hermione makes a mistake and her character development of going through that realization and working with Ron is quite the ride. 

I really feel like this opening scene was perfect for her. I wanted to show how detached she is when she doesn’t have Ron’s compassion to even her out. 

Not that Hermione would fail at life without Ronald Weasley, but that she is a better person for having him in her life. Just the same as having Hermione’s cleverness and stern nature helps Ron to center himself. Because Ronald Weasley can live in a world without Hermione Granger to, but why would he want to? 

That’s the point. The whole point. 

My best friend believed that I was bashing Hermione, but I firmly believe I was doing the opposite. As much as I adore my best friend, it worries me how she views characters and how it translates into real life. 

I would also like to take a moment to point out that shipping and fandoms and different opinions does not in any way need to be a dividing force between us. Sam is a Hermione stan, who likes Severus Snapes story, who is a (shudder) who likes Draco-Hermione fanfiction. 

She is the complete opposite of me in every way. She’s very romantically inclined, adores the romance genre, she spouts things that make me cringe and I cluck at her for her horrible taste and for the way she views things. She clearly suffers from a lot of cultural brain washings I try to unravel each time we argue. 

But we’re best friends. 

Like Hermione and Ron, we adore arguing about literature and culture and everything under the sun. We are constantly disagreeing and coming to compromises and having a blast while doing it. 

She’s a girly girl and I’m as gender neutral as you can possibly be. She’s a mommy and asked me to be the godmother and I told her no. I told her I’m a walking disaster when it comes to life and that I really don’t want to have any children to take care of. She was sad, but she understood. She appreciated that I took the offer seriously, that I considered the idea that if Sam died what would happen? 

She adores being a stay at home mom. 

I’d rather slit my wrists than live like that. 

But we’re still best friends. We respect each others choices and do everything in or power to help each other and are there for each other. 

People have often asked me what I think of Hermione and Ron being together, and while my reasoning changes as I grow older, the answer is still yes. I do think they work well together. It goes too far sometimes and things are damaged, but I looks at it like the Japanese do, where they repair things with gold and look at the damaged item with respect and pride because it has continued to endure. 

Its always been obvious to me that Harry didn’t understand Hermione and Ron’s need to argue all the time. He never saw it for what it was; stimulating intellectual conversations and debate. Passionate. Honest. Sometimes aggressive. But rarely hurtful. 

Fans, I feel, are a lot like Harry. 

They see what is happening, but they don’t really understand what is happening. They hear the words being said, but they don’t listen. 

Could I see Hermione or Ron being with other people? Absolutely. But I don’t ever see them not being friends. They gravitate towards one another and need a person who is willing to argue with them and to challenge them. Despite what many fans believe (because they are blind fools), both Ron and Hermione are intellectually driven. They need the mental stimulation or they both go a little batshit. 

But where Ron looks for it in life, Hermione looks for it in books. 

And that’s perfectly fine. I’m announcing to the world that it is okay to want different things, to work differently as human beings. It’s okay. 

#fanfiction. #hermione granger #ron weasley

[nonbinarysasquatch]

I’m in Love

As I mentioned in my very first review, when I was a child I imagined myself in TV shows (or movies or musicals etc.) I’ve always had a very active imagination that I kept to myself for a long time (really until I was 30 and started writing fanfic.) It’s a big part of why I relate to Rebecca. It’s not the only reason but it’s certainly a big part.

What’s interesting about this finale is that it is as surprising as it is completely predictable. That Rebecca would realise she loves music isn’t surprising but that it wasn’t really about musical theater per se is surprising. I mean maybe it is still about musical theater but that’s not a future we are privy to. That can only exist in our imaginations.

That Rebecca doesn’t pick any of the guys is obviously not remotely surprising. It would’ve been surprising if she had. But the specific ways it went down were surprising and that they tipped their hats a little to Greg is surprising. But more on that later…

The final six words were a surprise but they are a surprise that makes perfect sense. We were all thinking “This is what happy feels like” but that’s too surface level. It’s telling not showing.

It’s not just that musical theater was a bit of a red herring but in a way music is too. The music only matters in as much it is who Rebecca is on the inside. The entire show has been about identity and it’s been staring us in the face the entire time. The show is called Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and from the beginning it’s been not only exploring that concept but has seen Rebecca endlessly trying on different identities, always struggling because she was never allowing herself to be herself.

When Paula tells Rebecca to just be herself back in episode 2.04, she reacts with revulsion. “Who would want to be that?” The identity she’s most comfortable with is the one she’s kept hidden. It never occurred to her to actually bring that out until Paula finally asks her why she stares off sometimes. Presumably all of her friends have noticed this from time to time (we can assume Rebecca has imagined far, far more songs that we as viewers have ever seen) and none of them have stopped to ask what was up. Maybe they just accepted it as a Rebecca quirk.

Where does Rebecca go next? I can envision countless futures for her. I like the idea that maybe she writes enough songs to go on a bit of a tour. It’s kind of a mess but she has Heather and Valencia with her (Paula is busy) to keep her company.

Maybe she takes things further. Maybe she tries to write a musical. Maybe she moves back to New York. I’m sure I’ll write fanfic someday but for now I really don’t know where I see her going.

The other characters…

Paula: Paula took a stand and it was great. She’s come so far. I was a bit nervous they might force her to quit her job but I’m glad it didn’t go that way.

Heather/Hector: Hot tub. They got the best ending if I’m being honest.

Valencia: Valencia proposed in a very Valencia way. I sort of question why they ever had her move to New York since narratively it ultimately didn’t matter. I think there are a lot of missed opportunities with Valencia but those aren’t really the fault of this episode in particular.

Josh: I’m so glad the magic thread got picked up again. I was really excited when it got brought up again in 4.08. For the record: I hated the idea of him becoming a model and I’m disappointed the fandom was repeating that over and over as if it was somehow the only piece of information anyone retained about Josh (he’s hot!) But the show gave him a good ending. Incidentally, Josh was the only one of the three guys who made an effort to date people other than Rebecca this season.

Nathaniel: Nathaniel got as good an ending as one could want. He quits the law firm and moves to friggin Guatemala to be a lawyer for an animal sanctuary (it’s not a zoo. Theoretically, sanctuaries can be more ethical… or they can be worse.) I was surprised that he both 1. Seemed to most assume he was going to win but 2. Actually handled the rejection the best.

Greg: Honestly, Greg’s ending came a few episodes back with the Serrano’s soft open. While Rebecca didn’t end up with anyone they did clearly tip their hats a little to Greg. He got the full explanation of what happened. He also told Rebecca he wouldn’t wait for her but a year later he was still single. I still kinda feel bad for Greg. After 3 years he can’t get over her. Or maybe he has? It’s hard to say. My thoughts on Greg since he’s been brought back are complicated and I’m sure I’ll make a separate post going over that. I think Skylar did a good job and the writing was generally good. Do I think it worked? Not fully. Do I think it served the purpose Rachel and Aline wanted? Probably.

WhiJo: WHAT ON EARTH. Who knew WhiJo would get the dark ending? I mean I guess it could be darker but he’s the only character that kind of suffers a minor tragedy. Perhaps this is his karmic price for the role he played as an agent of chaos at the end. In a funny sort of way, WhiJo was the final villain. On the other hand, things with Greg, Josh and Nathaniel were about to spin out of control anyway. Perhaps he just gave that chaos a more manageable form. Either way, not the role I would’ve ever expected for him back in season one.

Darryl: Darryl’s ending is cute. I think it’s interesting how little drama there was in the couples who work out. April and Beth are mostly blank slates. Neither of them define their partners. Darryl Whitefeather is probably the best handled bisexual character I’ve ever seen. They managed to avoid all of the bad tropes for the most part. And it’s surprisingly rare to see a male bi character have relationships with men and women over the course of a show. Traditionally bi male characters just end up with dudes and end up being bi in name only. Or they just flirt a lot or had sex with women in the past. But Darryl was handled pretty naturally. I don’t think all of the show’s handling of queer characters was perfect (though given the crap that’s out there, eh, I’ll take it) but Darryl was solid.

Jason: He was sure in this episode. Actually, I’m gonna derail my Jason comment to talk about the fact that Jim was in the final lineup. I think in Jim’s mind he and Rebecca really have had a ton of tension for years. Who knows maybe they date for a while. I kind of hope Rebecca does a lot of dating.

AJ: AJ was one of the best things about this season. He wasn’t a super engrossing character or anything but Clark was always a delight. I’m sad we didn’t get to see more of their roommate banter because I bet it was amusing. Also: Rebecca pays AJ and he pays her back in rent? I mean, I guess but there’s something funny about that. She can’t legally take it out of his wages, to be fair.

The Songs:

Eleven O’Clock: Does what it needed to. It’s a good selection of songs. For once, most of my thoughts on it are tied into my thoughts on the episode.

West Covina (Final Reprise): THE FEELS.

And that’s that. It’s both a very different and very simple finale. In a good series finale, you’ve already done the work so that when you get to the finale it’s the only place left to go. I think they mostly pulled that off. When evaluating the show in retrospect there will be a lot of ways to do it. It was more successful at some things than others. This is far from the last things I will have to say about this show.

Just remember: Romantic love is not an ending.

#crazy ex girlfriend #i'm in love #ruminations on the shows many qualities and strengths and weaknesses will come #for now I just want to bask in the glow #of what was essentially a pretty perfect finale

[tristinai]

Spare Parts

Rating: E Genre: Fluff, Smut Fandom: Detroit: Become Human Pairing: Simkus (Markus/Simon) Word Count: 3700 Tags: asexual!Markus, Simkus, first time, handjob, blowjob, rutting, domestic bliss, synthetic genitalia,  post Battle of Detroit, pacifist!Markus, everyone lives ending, established relationship Summary: When Markus learns Simon had been upgraded with parts most PL600 units don't have, he makes it his mission to find new ways to please his boyfriend.

Author's Notes: This idea came to me when I started thinking about how sex could work between two androids, especially when there is no canon evidence to suggest that androids outside of the Traci bots have working genitalia. I'm never as confident about writing fluffy, lighter fics but it has @cap-sweet-and-salty-sadness 's seal of approval so I’ll just leave this here for anyone else who wants to read it. Not beta-read. 

The first time Markus notices Simon's erection is when they are kissing on his sofa.

It starts as a lazy afternoon, Simon sitting on the couch, nose deep in a book, while Markus goes on about the newest legislation about to pass in congress, allowing for androids to own property. He's animated since it means that Carl can legally declare Markus his beneficiary and Simon nods along, pitches in a remark every now and then, and smiles when Markus accuses his boyfriend of not paying attention.

Eventually, he begins to feel neglected and slides on the sofa next to the blond, uttering absolute nonsense to see how long it takes for Simon to catch on.

“—and this is just the beginning. There's also talk of giving artificial wildlife the right to vote,” Markus says, smirk on his face. “You know how vocal those polar bears have been getting about the fish stocks.”

“Yes, they have,” Simon mumbles, turning the page in his book.

Markus glances at the title, wondering what has his boyfriend so engrossed: Much Ado About Nothing. Huh.

“And domestic dogs, can't forget about them. Sumo's been fighting that by-law that keeps him from mauling the mail service droids.”

In truth, the only mauling that Lieutenant Anderson's dog would do is slobbering all over the poor droid's face.

“Congress should do something about that,” Simon continues absently, eyes scanning across the pages.

Markus struggles to hold back his laugh, makes a weird half-snort as he only just manages to keep a straight face. “North's also lobbying for federal funding to adopt all the nation's cats. She calls it the Catastrophe Proposal.”

North still has little love for most humans (she did concede, to Connor the other night, that Hank's 'Alright'), but she's developed a soft spot for stray cats, something Markus and Josh have teased her endlessly about.

“Fascinating...”

Lifting the book from his hands, Markus keeps it just out of reach, his lips lifting in a grin. “Have you listened to anything I've said in the past hour?”

Simon smirks coyly. “I never knew you were also an animal activist. Are you going to give me back that book before you liberate Sumo from the bonds of not being allowed to jump on people?”

“Let me think...” he answers, pretending to consider it. “No.”

He drops the book on the floor behind him.

Simon attempts to bend down and reach for it but Markus is already pushing him back, straddling him, and keeping him from moving. “Hey, your book can wait. Don't tell me it's more interesting than me.”

“I'll let you know after I finish it.”

Markus feigns offense. “Now that's just cold.”

Simon smiles, gently thumbs at Markus' jaw. The gesture has thirium rushing to Markus' cheeks, his gaze dropping from those blue eyes that seem to always read into him—as if Simon knows everything that's going through his head without needing to connect. It never fails to make the confident demeanor of the leader of the android's rights movement feel like a bashful adolescent on the verge of puberty.

“Do I need to tell you what you mean to me?” Simon asks.

His other hand grasps Markus', entwining their fingers, the skin pulling back to reveal the silver layer beneath. Markus instinctively responds and through their connection, feels it all.

Love. Affection. Devotion.

He grins, ready to make some snide quip but the way Simon is gazing up at him, expression soft, sends Markus' pump thrumming with vigor, his insides fluttering. He bends down, kisses the blond gently, positioning his hips to settle comfortably on his boyfriend's lap. His free hand slides up behind Simon's neck, soft, short strands of hair at the edge of his fingertips.

Mine.

He's not sure whose thought that is but it makes him want to experiment, kiss and see the parts of Simon he has yet to touch. They've only had a handful of moments like this—of being able to be lost in each other, enjoy long, drawn out kisses—and there's so much more he wants to learn, wants to feel.

His lips leave Simon's, kissing down the other's jaw, gently teasing synthetic flesh as he nibbles at a spot on the blond's neck. There's a gasp and he knows he's onto something, feels it through their connection, something Simon has never communicated before.

Desire.

So Markus keeps going, laves the spot with his tongue, and then presses his mouth to it to suckle on the pale skin.

Want.

And that's when he feels it, a bulge that grows, presses at his groin the more attention he gives to Simon's neck. He shifts experimentally and it's when he pushes down that a guttural, low moan spills off Simon's lips.

More.

“M-Markus,” Simon groans, hips thrusting up to meet his.

The urgency in which his name tumbles from the blond's parted mouth has Markus grinding down, moving his hips until he finds the right angle, has Simon crying out. The blond's cheeks are tinged blue, unsteady breaths making any words he tries to speak crack with desperate need, and Markus can only answer by kissing him breathlessly, tongue delving into those parted lips, caressing, tasting.

Simon doesn't last much longer. It's with his face buried into Markus' shoulder, cries muffled, and fingers gripping the other android's thighs in a vice, that he succumbs to a sensation that has him weakly riding it out to the friction Markus provides.

It's in the aftermath, with Simon hugging Markus tightly, shaking in his arms, that Markus decides that he likes whatever it was that had just happened.

*

“You're a PL600 model,” Markus says one day.

It's another afternoon in the late winter and the two are lounging around, once again, in Markus' apartment. Though he's now been named Carl's heir, Markus is still reluctant to make the move into Carl's house, not wanting to burden his adoptive father. However, he spoke recently with Carl, who's very eager to meet Simon, and has even suggested that both of them move into the spare room.

It's a lot to think about. Markus is still getting used to the idea of being part of a pair and his fear, which, in retrospect, is most likely irrational, of Carl disapproving of Simon, or the two not getting along, is the only thing preventing him from moving forward.

So he tries not to think about it, tries to enjoy yet another quiet moment from the chaos of demonstrations and flying out to Washington to speak on behalf of the androids in Detroit. He tries to enjoy these stolen moments with Simon, as few and far between as the are.

But ever since their last afternoon together—two weeks ago, before Markus was whisked off to the capital—he's been thinking about the one piece of Simon's anatomy he had not expected the other android to have.

“I am,” Simon confirms, bemused smile on his lips.

“But your model doesn't come with...”

Markus has been spending way too much time with humans. If Carl was here, he would be teasing him about stumbling over the word 'cock'.

“It...was an upgrade,” Simon answers, looking a bit uncomfortable. He fidgets with the book in his hand. Another Shakespeare play. “It was added after my—after the human who owned me decided she wanted an intimate relationship with me.”

He gets that same look on his face that North gets when asked about her past so Markus doesn't press. He knows that Simon will tell him about what happened when he's ready.

But it does little to diminish his curiosity.

“Can I see it?”

“What? Right now?”

Simon's face fills with thirium and it has Markus chuckling.

“Not right now. But...sometime, yeah.”

There's surprise on Simon's face and Markus can't really understand why.

“You don't think it's...odd?”

And then, he gets it: the fact that Simon has the programming to experience orgasms, and be stimulated in the same way one would stimulate a human, makes him feel different from the rest of them. It doesn't help that even among the android community, Markus has noticed that sex bots are sometimes treated with a certain level of mistrust, most likely due to the nature of the services they provide. Sex was something natural to organics but something decidedly non-synthetic and carried with it a stigma that would make androids with working genitalia, like Simon, want to hide that.

“I love everything about you, Simon, even the parts that make you different,” Markus answers, taking Simon's hand and squeezing it reassuringly. They connect and he sees the hesitation leave Simon's face, eyes gazing at his lover with warmth.

With a smirk, Markus adds, “Especially the parts that make you different.”

He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, as Carl had taught him, and Simon smacks the top of his head with his book.

*

As Markus thought, his fears of Carl and Simon not getting along were completely unfounded. What began as a lunch date at Carl's mansion quickly turned to dinner and before long, Carl's caretaker was reminding all three of them that Carl needed his rest. Carl tried to wave it off but even Markus, who remembers the artist's schedule better than his own coding, gave the elderly man a stern look.

“Carl...”

And Carl threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine, fine. I'll finish off this brandy and get my ass up to bed before the two of you start sounding like my doctor.”

“I'm pretty sure your doctor would be telling you not to have that brandy,” Markus sasses him.

“What does he know? Old quack.”

Carl downs the rest of it, to which Markus shakes his head, failing to hide a smile. Before his caretaker can wheel him out of the lounge, Carl insists that they stay the night, offering the spare bedroom he's been saving for Markus. It's as he's shaking Simon's hand that he surprises both his guests by saying, “You're gonna move in too, right? With Markus? It'd be nice to have another face around here.”

Simon's startled by the offer, cheeks tinging blue. If he still had his LED, Markus can imagine it flickering a nice shade of yellow. “I—Markus and I haven't talked a lot about the future.”

Carl chuckles and pats Simon's hand. “If you're waiting around for him to bring it up, it'll be well into the next century. He's too damn shy. Makes me wonder how he does those speeches of his.”

Markus is also blushing and groans aloud to stave off some of his embarrassment. “Really, Carl?”

“This is what happens when you bring your bring your boyfriends home so you better get used to it,” Carl says, smirking. “Once you're both living here, Simon will get to hear all those fun stories from before you led a revolution.”

Markus makes a show of acting affronted but he still hugs Carl tightly, promises that they will have breakfast together before him and Simon head off to city hall in the morning.

It's not until after Carl's been put to bed and Markus brings Simon to the guest room that he can bring himself to address the topic Carl had broached. Absently, he notes that the bed has since been replaced—not that he had ever used it for more than the occasional rest to keep his system up-to-date and functioning—with a larger one that could accommodate two of them. There is also an easel in the corner and new books filling what was once a mostly empty bookshelf.

It seems Carl really took Markus' comments on Simon liking books to heart.

“You don't have to do it, if you don't want to,” Markus says, feeling a bit awkward. He paces towards the bed, attempts to sit on it but stands back up. He can't seem to figure out what his hands should be doing so he leaves them at his sides. “Carl likes to get ahead of himself, assumes things instead of asking. I can make up an excuse, let him down easy. He'll be happy enough if it's just me moving in.”

It's not lost on Markus that throughout all of their discussion, Simon hasn't said yes.

He glances over at the other android but Simon seems fixated on the floor in front of him. There's a somberness to his posture and it makes Markus feel as if he's done something wrong. But whatever it is, he can't quite piece it together.

After a moment that stretches so long, it's almost suffocating, Simon says, quietly, “You don't want me to move in, do you?”

He hears the rejection in the blond's voice, is so shocked that he can't think of the right words. The long pause seems to only affirm Simon's fears, who looks a bit lost when he can bring himself to meet Markus' gaze.

But seeing that sadness is enough to drive Markus to action, have him cross the distance and take both of Simon's hands in his.

“I want you here, Simon. Trust me, there's nothing I want more,” Markus assures him. “If this is because I didn't ask, well...I was worried. That you and Carl wouldn't like each other. And I didn't want to make you think you have to come live with me just to make me happy.”

He pulls Simon into his arms, holds him tightly. This close, he can feel the thrum of their pump regulators through the layers of clothes, humming in sync. There's a sigh against the crook of his neck and soon, Simon is holding him just as tightly.

“You two mean more to me than everyone else,” Markus admits, his words weighted heavily with emotion. “And I want the three of us to spend the rest of Carl's days together. As a family.”

Simon lifts his head, the smile on his lips saying everything. There's a glassiness to his gaze and Markus is quickly losing himself to the warmth he sees shining in those bright, blue eyes. “I want that, too.”

Somehow, hearing it gives it more meaning. He feels an overwhelming wave of affection for his lover, leans in to kiss him softly. Simon's lips are smooth, receptive, welcoming the familiarity of Markus' tongue as he deepens the kiss. It takes only a gentle push before he has Simon sitting on the edge of their bed, Markus sidling onto the blond's lap with ease. His hands waste no time in grasping the back of Simon's head, fingers weaving through the straw-colored locks, thighs trapping his lover beneath him.

It's as he's kissing down the blond's neck, lips seeking that spot he now knows will elicit sweet moans from Simon, that Markus feels it, the same as before—a growing bulge in his lover's trousers—and he pushes down to brush it teasingly.

“M-Markus,” Simon groans, his hands gripping his boyfriend's shoulders.

Markus' fingers pop open the first three buttons of Simon's shirt. At the sight of collarbone, he licks a stripe across it, his hand snaking beneath the material to caress at soft, pale skin. The action has Simon responding with a bucking of his hips but Markus, ever the tease, lifts up just out of reach, denying his lover the friction he so craves.

He finishes opening the shirt, takes his time kissing and nipping his way down Simon's chest. It's mostly flawless; a pale, pristine canvas for his tongue to paint lines and circles across. Yet he counts three freckles—one on his pectoral, two on his abdomen—and spends extra time marking the spots with his lips, committing them to his eidetic memory.

It's when his hand grazes over the bulge in Simon's pants, thumb flicking open the button on the blond's jeans, that his lover stops him with a firm grip on his wrist.

“M-Markus, what are you doing?”

Markus looks at his boyfriend, sees the concern in his eyes.

“I've watched some videos, thought maybe we can try a few things.”

Not having genitalia or experiencing sexual stimulation as organics and sex bots do, Markus had found it hard to understand what was so appealing about watching two strangers perform sexual acts on each other. But he was more invested in learning the mechanics of it, figuring out what he can do to make Simon feel good. And just thinking about that first time, with Simon shuddering underneath him, Markus' name spilling like a prayer off his lips, shaking as he reached climax—filled Markus with a kind of warmth that made him eager to watch anything—to learn how to do whatever it takes—to bring Simon that kind of pleasure once more.

“You...really?”

Simon looks both shocked and embarrassed and it only makes Markus chuckle, has him press a teasing kiss to the tip of the blond's nose. “It was very educational.”

“I don't think 'educational' is what they were going for.”

“Well, I learned a few things. Why don't I show you?”

Simon's grip loosens on Markus' wrist but he still sees the uncertainty in Simon's eyes. He waits, needing the blond's consent before he puts his non experience to the test. It's once the android nods his head that Markus pulls the zipper down on his jeans, reaches inside to free his lover's bulging, firm cock.

That first moment of contact makes something akin to a whimper spill off Simon's tongue. From what Markus learned of synthetic cocks, they differed from organic ones in that, like most parts of an android, they don't register pain. However, their pleasure receptors tended to be heightened, making the sensation of 'climax' easier to achieve. They also did not release any bodily fluids during an orgasm.

With this in mind, he's careful as he wraps his fingers around Simon's cock, leans up to kiss his lover softly. When he moves his thumb over the head of his erection, Simon answers with a gasp that dies against his boyfriend's lips. It has Markus grinning knowing that there's another way he can touch Simon and have him come undone.

He fists his hand, moves it up the shaft in an experimental pump. When Simon answers by bucking up into Markus' hand, he does it again and again, until he finds the best grip and rhythm that has a cacophony of pleased sounds ripping from his lover's throat.

“Is this good?” he asks, though everything about the way Simon is moving is all the answer he needs.

“Y-yes, it's...oh, Markus,” he gasps, thrusting up to chase the friction.

Markus kisses him deeply, moving his hand over Simon's cock. He alternates between pumping the shaft—now more confident in that technique—and rubbing circles around the head. Simon's quickly becoming a wreck, groans filling the air each time Markus takes his lips off of his, and he can tell from the erratic thrumming of Simon's regulator that the other android won't last much longer.

Falling to his knees, Markus places himself between Simon's spread thighs, feeling a bit nervous since he's not quite sure he's doing this right. But he's plunged headfirst into the unknown, parachuted from the Detroit skyline, and walked with his hands raised into a stream of bullets. Giving head, in comparison, seems easy (and with significantly less probability of ending up offline).

He starts with his tongue, laving it over the tip. The response he gets from Simon leaves a pleased humming in his chest, gives him the confidence to round his lips and suckle on the head. Still pumping the shaft, he brings more of Simon's cock into his mouth until his lips meet his fist and he begins bobbing in tune with his hand.

Simon's voice is hoarse, cracking with need, splitting in the air until Markus' own name is all he can hear, hugging every corner of the room. He doesn't need his retinal scanner to detect Simon's 'pulse' because Simon's gripping his free hand, connecting to him, and that's when he feels it:

Heat. Love. Want. Need. More. More. More—

The explosion of pleasure felt through their connection leaves Markus reeling, has him nearly passing out as he takes his mouth off Simon's cock, groans aloud, and drops his head to Simon's thigh. He's shuddering as a wave of euphoria that passes through Simon bursts from inside of him and for a long minute, there seems to be no end or beginning to it, it just is.

“Markus?”

He's trembling as he feels Simon's hand slide through his short hair, concern heavy in his hoarse voice. Markus mumbles something, lifts his head groggily to stare up at his lover. His CPU feels overworked and yet, he's done nothing, ran no functions, to warrant the need to rest.

“So that's why people like those videos,” he says, corner of his lips lifting in a small grin.

Dork.

“Hey,” Markus says, hearing the insult through their connection.

Simon lets go and Markus almost regrets sassing him, the loss of being connected the closest he can think of to feeling cold and empty. But then, Simon's tugging Markus up, wrapping his arms around him, dragging his lover down with him to lie back on the bed.

They stay together like that for some time, staring into each other's eyes, Simon's thumb brushing along the line of Markus' jaw.

“I love you,” Simon whispers.

It's hard to believe that only a few short months ago, Markus thought he had lost everything. And now, here he was: back at the only place he has ever called home, in the arms of the one who has become part of his everything, his family.

“I love you, too,” Markus says.

#simkus #markus x simon #dbh #detroit: become human #my writing

[staliasjeronica]

Headcannons for Famous Jeronica

A/N: This is day three for @everything-jeronica‘s Jeronica week, and the prompt is famous Jeronica! I might have went overboard or done too much information, but that’s mostly because I have never really done these for any fandom I’ve been in. 

Jughead is a famous writer

Veronica is a famous singer, dancer, and business owner

Jughead started out writing a book for Betty Cooper

It was about mental illness, how it affected her life and everyone around her, and of course he asked for her permission first.

Veronica sang and danced to many different genres of music. She made music for different types of genre’s

Mostly, Veronica sang and danced to Pop, Hip-Hop, Latin American, and R&B music, but her most popular was Pop and Latin American music.

After his book “Saving The Inner Demons” was published, it blew up, and many sent him messages about how grateful they were for the book, how it helped them. He was proud, but he also yearned to write something else, write something fascinating and so engrossing that they had to force themselves to put it down. Something along the lines of what he used to write about before he became dedicated to helping girls like his friend

That was when he wrote a five-part series of books about a different crimes that inter-weaved by the last book, which in itself should have been turned into a TV series; he was still working on that, though

At some point in his career, Jughead heard about the beautiful Veronica Lodge, giving her a try after his friend Fangs convinced him to give her a listen

His first thought when he brought up her sensual video of “Garden Rose” captivated him by the way she moved. The way that she glanced in the camera almost seemed to be just for him. Ultimately, he found out about how successful she was, and wondered if was truly a good person and wanted to help, or if she just craved the fame.

He decided to make a book about her, even though it wasn’t really in his specialty.

He learned all that he could about her, like some humongous fanboy. She was an incredibly enticing singer, the way she danced was all self-taught, and considering how she could almost immediately suck you into a daze, Jughead was absolutely stunned. And, to top it all off, she juggled all of that while also being a business owner, owning a franchise of dance studios, a fashion line, and many buildings that held her classes for many different abilities

Such as becoming a fashion designer, how to handle business, dance lessons of all kind, etc.

Jughead wanted to know more about her, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he also wanted to do this book to get into contact with her

Eventually, after a whole year, he managed to meet with her, pleading with her publicist and manager to get the go-ahead to write about her life

Come to find out, Veronica was the one who wanted to do the book. She wanted to get her story out there, tell young girls and boys everywhere that they could do anything that they out their mind to

A few months into the book, after getting to know the real her, he officially realized that his reason for writing this was answered. None of what she did was a front to boost her up higher on the celebrity sphere

Jughead knew that this book had to come out, ever since Betty’s book, he had the ability to help people again, and he loved seeing those messages that told him their stories, how much his book helped them or someone that they loved, and realizing that he actually had a true purpose in life

Veronica and Jughead spent a lot of time together, she took him to every tour, and they simply talked about anything and everything almost every day. However, he was still slightly confused considering he didn’t actually have to be there with her every day to write his book

According to Veronica’s best friend, Cheryl Topaz, it wasn’t really a secret that she brought Jughead because he was cute, and she knew he wouldn’t make up lies to gain publicity for himself and wreck her career, all because he could and had the power to do it. He truly was in this as much as she was, and Veronica adored that. Many men she came across just wanted to use her, but not Jughead

On one celebratory drunken night, Veronica found out that Jughead had partially started the idea of the book to meet her, she giggled and ruffled his hair, not angry at all. She found it adorable.

Veronica was the first one to initiate a kiss between the two a week after finding out his purpose for the book; she knew he would never make a move first because then it would seem that he was only doing this to get into the princess’s pants, which he wasn’t

They kept their relationship secret until about a year after the book went out, which of course also blew up everywhere, not just the US like Jughead’s books normally did. People were obsessed with her, much like Jughead was, and they wanted to get a sneak peek into her private life. Who wouldn’t?

They both worked together as a power couple in Hollywood, throwing out hit after hit, trying to make people think about the world differently.

Sometimes, Veronica even helped Jughead with his ideas, bouncing plots off of him. It was a shock for Jughead to find out that she was also not that bad of a writer, at least when it came to plots and how to keep a book interesting.

One day, he tested her writing skills, and was absolutely shocked that she probably could have added “Writer” onto her resume

Veronica even helped Jughead get that TV show for his crime five-part series, it became a hit on the CW, and they both made sure that they wouldn’t screw up his characters and the plot for the sake of views

After they got together, it was truly the only time where they felt their most complete, and they would continue to take the world together, as a couple, as best friends, and as (sometimes) colleagues. They were a force to be reckoned with

A/N: Please have mercy on me, I have never made one of these that was okay, but I wanted to challenge myself (much like my aesthetic for yesterday) into making one. I hope it’s alright!

#Jeronica #Vughead #Famous #Jughead Jones #Veronica Lodge #Jughead x Veronica #Jughead and Veronica #jeronicaweek #everythingjeronica #Jeronica Headcannon #Riverdale

[wildfaeworld]

Okay how about "Take me Instead" with Keith! and with platonic Klance or Kidge. :3

Administrative stuff: this is for the @badthingshappenbingo, in the Voltron: Legendary Defender fandom.

For reference, red X has been done, blue circles requested. not that y’all couldn’t figure that out, sheesh

Alright, here goes!! “Take Me Instead”, with platonic Kidge (good one, I live for Kidge friendship) :D This monstrosity is about 1800 words, beware. It was just too much fun.

*PSST*: you can also read this on AO3

——————

“I don’t understand.” Keithscowled over Pidge’s shoulder at the device on the counter before them. “Whatdoes it do?”

Pidge, unwilling to let suchmundane things as purpose dim the stars in her eyes, dug out her pouch of GAC.“It’s a robot, Keith, it doesn’t needto do anything now, I’m gonna upgradeit! How much?”

“Three thousand GAC.” The way thealien shopkeeper’s assessing gaze roamed over Pidge gave Keith theheebie-jeebies. He stepped closer, looming behind her.

“Pidge. You don’t need this robot.”

“Keith.” Pidge did not look upfrom her wallet. “I need this robot.” Now she did look up at him, and somehowher eyes were bigger, wider, and her face was doing something that made it hardto remember why he had thought the robot was a stupid idea. Oh.

“Are you… using puppy-dog eyes onme?”

Her eyes got bigger (was thatpossible? Apparently so), and now he felt guilty for accusing her.

“Is it working? I’m short a couplehundred GAC.”

And just like that, whatever magicwas in the puppy eyes was gone. “We’re supposed to be looking for supplies forthe castle.”

“With your money! I brought myown. I just need a couple hundred, you know Coran gave you way more than we’llneed. Please, Keith, I need this robot. Look at it! It’s socute! How can you say no to such a cute-” “Pile of metal?” “Keeeiiiith,” she whined, whacking him inthe arm. “Pleeeeeeeaaase, Keith?”

Matt probably would have beenable to say no. Shiro too, maybe even Lance. They all had experience withyounger siblings. But no, they sent Keith, who had no idea how to handle hugeeyes and a face full of desperate need for something frankly trivial. He wasnot prepared for this at all.

Sometimes surrender was the onlyoption. Keith yanked out his wallet and began flipping out GAC. “I’m nothelping you fix it.”

“But Keith, you’re my best labassistant! C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Pidge tucked the robot lovingly under her armand turned a blindingly bright smile up at Keith.

Keith sighed and shook his head.He had a feeling that he was going to end up helping fix the robot. “C’mon, weneed to look for that component-thingy.”

“Flux modulator,” Pidge correctedabsently, engrossed in fiddling with the robot. Keith dropped a hand onto hershoulder to steer her through the teeming masses, scowling out from under hisbangs at the scurrying aliens who hurried this way, that, and always across thepath he was trying to steer Pidge through. Crowds had always been hard for him,but since bonding with Red his instincts tended to go haywire whenever he feltsurrounded or not in control.

“Woah,” Pidge muttered, peeringup over her glasses as Keith yanked her to a stop just before a horde of tinyorange aliens screeched across the end of the aisle. “Keith, you okay, man?”

“I’m fine,” Keith said tightly.Something was wrong; his instincts were screaming – he needed to fight, run,fly – anything to calm the fire burning down his spine. “Let’s just get the frackmandala” “Flux modulator-” “-and get back to the lions.”

“You got it.” Perhaps picking upon whatever had Keith’s senses firing, Pidge put the robot into her satchel andpeered around at the stalls. “Ooh, maybe over there.” She wriggled out from underhis hand and darted over to the corner stall.

Something was coming – he couldn’ttake it anymore. Keith drew his bayard, glad he had ignored Allura when she orderedthem to leave all paladin-identifying gear behind. Screw the flip-flop macerator,he was getting Pidge out of here. They could find it somewhere else.

“Pidge, let’s- PIDGE!” Keithpelted for the alley, heart in his throat. A large green arm had snaked out ofthe shadows and latched onto the littlest paladin, yanking her out of sightbefore she could so much as startle at the unexpected contact.

Keith activated his bayard, arrivingin a whirl of violence. Five huge aliens blocked his way, while a sixth hauleda struggling Pidge down the alley, heading for a pod parked at the other end. Ithad her tucked under its arm like a ragdoll, one three-clawed hand wrappedentirely around her head, and though Pidge was one of the fiercest people heknew, without her bayard the size disparity was simply too great for her to domore than annoy the hulking alien with her struggles. 

Keith charged, cutting down oneof the aliens with a swift slash across its throat before the rest swarmed him.He raised his blade to block an overhead strike, letting the angle of his sworddeflect his opponent’s blade down and off to one side, before whirling hissword about to parry the next attack. Shoving the blade off of his own, Keithyanked his knife out of its sheath at his back and stabbed blindly to his left,where he could feel a third alien approaching from behind. The alien gurgledand screamed, but kept coming, and the other two were swiftly recovering aswell. And all the while Pidge was being hauled toward the pod. Keithglanced about the narrow alley frantically. He needed some sort ofadvantage; between their size and their numbers, there was no way he was goingto take all three down on his own. 

A pile of crates stackedhaphazardly against the wall protruded from a mounded pile of discarded trash.Keith yelled and ducked under the rightmost alien’s scythe-like weapon andjumped up the mound. His footing was precarious at best, but his back wasagainst a wall now and he was nearly at eye level with his opponents. One swungat him with a heavy-handed overhead strike – really, again? Clearly these guyswere not used to actual opposition – and Keith blocked it easily, twisting theblade aside and lunging in to take out the alien’s eyes. Three down, two to go.

The one he had just blindedstaggered into one of his remaining opponents, keening loudly, and Keith tookthe opportunity to leap atop the other one, wrapping his thighs around its’ neckand stabbing downwards through the alien’s skull. He rode the enormous body tothe ground, cleaving the last alien from neck to navel on the way down. Thatleft only the blind one, staggering across the alley in futile search of itscomrades. Keith took a running start and leapt up its back, using his momentumto bring the disoriented alien crashing to the ground. Stunned, the alien frozeas it felt Keith’s blade against its’ neck, cold metal warring with hot bloodagainst its scaly flesh.

“Let her go!” Keith shouted, proudthat his voice projected only his anger and not the crippling fear underneath. Not Pidge, please not Pidge. “Let hergo, or you lose the last of your team!”

The alien halted, its reptilianeyes skittering over the carnage Keith had wrought. Over its clawed hand, Pidge’senormous brown eyes locked onto Keith’s.

“You have brought blood-debt uponyourself, stranger,” the alien snarled.

“Let her go, and I’ll give you achance to collect,” Keith retorted. Beneath him, the blinded alien shifted, andhe ground his heel harder into its spine until it stilled.

“This small one is a lawful prize,taken fairly. She will bring good price to me.” The alien shook Pidge slightly,and Keith’s gut twisted at the strangled whimper that emerged past the thickscaly claws wrapped around her head. “What have you to offer, stranger? Your blood-debtis already greater than you can pay.”

Everything was speeding up,unlike in battle when time seemed to slow; this was too fast, too much, and allKeith could think was not Pidge, notPidge in endless, frantic loop.

“Me,” he said, ignoring Pidge’ssudden muffled cy. “Take me.”

The alien snarled. “I havealready said your debt is greater than you can pay. I tire of this. Flee, whileyou still can, before the debt-hunters are given your scent.”

“I’m a paladin!” Keith blurted. “I’ma paladin of Voltron, heard of them?”

The alien’s sudden stillness wasanswer enough.

“Take me, and I’ll pay yourblood-debt. But you have to let her go.”

The alien watched him, reptilianeyes unblinking and hard as stone. Keith stepped off the blinded alien,shifting his sword back into bayard form and sheathing his knife. “Take me,” herepeated. “But let her go.”

“What is she to you?”

“No one,” Keith said quickly –too quickly, damnit. “A messenger,” he tried again, locking eyes with Pidge’s furioushoney-gold orbs and hoping that just this once he could communicate what he wanted.“She’s just a messenger. I hired her to carry my stuff while I shopped. She’s aninnocent.”

The alien lifted Pidge, eyeingher satchel dubiously. With a single claw, it ripped the satchel down thecenter, sending the robot and various other wires and connectors they had alreadypurchased clattering to the ground. It glanced back at Keith, gaze lingering onhis bayard. Keith thanked whatever gods held sway out here for its distinctivered-and-white coloring. Thanks to Coran’s Voltron shows, most of the galaxy nowrecognized the paladin colors and bayards. Beside him, the blinded alien rolledover, scrambling to its feet, and Keith stiffened, but kept his bayarddisarmed. “Take me,” he repeated. “But let her go.”

Slowly, the alien lowered Pidgeto the ground. “Go, child,” it said harshly. “Offer thanks at your hearth thisnight for the foolish ideals of this paladin.”

“Keith,” Pidge whisperedhoarsely. Bruising was already darkening her pale skin, crossing her face inmottled hues that didn’t belong.

“Go on,” Keith said, his mindstill circling madly, stuck in its loop ofnot Pidge, not Pidge. “You’ve got a job to get back to.”

“No, I-”

The alien shoved her towards theentrance to the alley when she stayed rooted to the spot. “Run, child. Deliveryour messages.”

The giant claws descended on him,then, wrapping around Keith’s torso and pinning his arms painfully to hissides. His bayard clattered on the ground, but the alien’s sinuous tail snakeddown to seize it as well.

“Get out of here!” Keith snarledas it began to drag him away. He couldn’t try to escape until Pidge was safelyaway. She couldn’t start tracking him until she was back at her lion, she wasn’tsafe until she was back with Green.

Finally, Pidge fled, dashingtears out of her eyes, and finally, Keith’s panic over her began to subside,even as his own spiked. But Pidge was safe. He could handle whatever came next,as long as it was him and not her.

#voltron: legendary defender #bad things happen bingo #keith kogane #bamf!keith #pidge gunderson #vld #cuivienenwrites