#I do tend to fall on the side of Fandom Let Things Be About Women For Once but that's not exactly saying

[marzipanandminutiae]

I voted no, but this NEEDS more nuance than that

is it misogynistic for an individual woman to ship exclusively mlm pairings? of course not. she might have any number of reasons for doing that, cited above

does it reflect societal misogyny that there is such a broad culture within fandom of women exclusively shipping mlm pairings, holding female characters to higher moral standards than male characters, declining to engage with female characters in any meaningful way, and occasionally saying things like "F/F is just better when it's genderbent characters who are male in canon" (a real thing I've actually read on here), AND that there are more well-developed male characters than female characters in fiction writ large? yes

it's a macro vs. micro thing, IMO

also, "interpersonal red flag for friendship or dating" is different from "misogynistic." I know that I would not be a good fit as a friend or a partner with a woman in fandom whose entire fan experience revolved around male characters. not because that makes her a bad person, but because...we'd have almost nothing to talk about on that axis

I spent high school being bored to tears while my friends gushed about pretty anime boys they wanted to kiss each other and being shot down every time I tried to recommend an anime that had even one (1) main female character. I'm not interested in doing that long-term in a friendship again, much less a romance

does that make a person Bad and Misogynistic? not necessarily. it just means we're not compatible

(also, in terms of dating, see above: "she" might turn out to be transmasc, and that would start a whole slew of issues since I'm not into men or people on that end of the gender spectrum)

[maple-the-awesome]

He's Becomes a Dad || Part 2/2

Part 1

Pairing: Twilight, Warrior, Sky, Wild x Reader

Overview: Congratulations, you're new parents 🎉 Some of the Links are prepared. Others...might need a moment to gather themselves. But rest assured! At the end of the day, they're all going to get a handle on this whole dad thing. Warning: Mentions of miscarriages for Sky's section. Nothing to detailed, but it's there so beware 🙅‍♀️

Zelda Masterlist 🤎Fandom Masterlist

It's never been a surprise to you that Twilight would want kids of his own. He never even had to say it aloud, you could just read that look in his eyes whenever playing with the village children. It was a wordless yet ever so contagious request: I want this. And how were you to deny him? Just look at him!

Simply put, children were a top priority of yours almost as soon as you married. It didn't take long for you to become pregnant either (not with Twilight's fierce passion and your shared disinterest towards 'waiting'). Regardless, there were still many tears shed when you found out - all happy, of course, as your husband spun you around in his arms while you both laughed giddily in between quick kisses.

Let's get this straight: Twilight is prepared-prepared. Ordon is that type of close-knit community where everyone helps raise each other's kids, so despite this being his first rodeo as a new dad himself, he has plenty of experience taking care of youngsters. As a ranch-hand, he's also perfectly accustomed to the whole birthing process, having hand-delivered more baby goats than he can count, so don’t worry, nothing about the ‘less glamorous’ sides of pregnancy scare him. 

With that being said, Twilight doesn't stress too much aside from the normal concerns about your health, after all he recognizes that not every pregnancy is the same for every woman, but that's exactly why he makes it his personal mission to ensure your comfort. 

Feeling particularly ill? He'll make you all the tasty pumpkin soup you could ask for which, believe it or not, works wonders for an upset stomach. Just having a bad day? He'll happily let you cuddle with Wolfie to help you relax. Restless? He'll take you on a horse ride no matter the hour and if you're too far along in your pregnancy to climb onto Epona, a simple walk to Ordon's spring will do since that's the perfect spot to soak your sore body. Twilight is no above carrying you there himself if you ask.

Trust that your every worry is always smoothed; Twilight is there to reassure you no matter how 'little' the problem. Have concerns he can't speak on as a man? He'll happily go ask one of the other village women for you if you're too embarrassed to do so yourself, in fact this guy's already been talking Rusl and Uli's ears off for advice since day one. He doesn't want to leave a single thing to chance regardless of how confident he already feels which is probably why there's a stack of parenting books on his nightstand. Did he clear the shelves in Castle Town? Probably.

You're pretty sure that Twilight already had a 'go-bag' put together before the end of your first trimester, although he’d add to it like a paranoid squirrel up until your due-date. Curious, you had gone through it one day just to get a hint of how overboard he might've gone. Diapers, snacks, blankets, comfortable clothes for you, more parenting books...He does realize you're doing a home birth, right? Most of this stuff he could just grab from the cabinet if needed, but it's sweet that he's trying to be organized.

It isn’t really news to anyone that Hyrule’s heroes tend to land on the quieter side and usually Twilight isn’t much different…There’s a key word in there because you’re quite certain he hasn’t actually shut up since the second you told him you’re pregnant. He can hardly keep his excitement to himself! Oh, but it’s adorable, especially on those nights when he’ll fall asleep mumbling about his joy all while using your swollen stomach as a pillow. It makes your heart swell every time.

When you eventually go into labor, Twilight doesn’t show much outward panic if he has any at all, however he does feel incredibly terrible to watch you go through it without any relief. He feels absolutely useless while unable to take away your suffering the way a good husband should, so to make up for it, he does his utmost best to be your rock during those long hours, talking you through each painful contraction and doing everything in his power to distract you. Back rubs, walks around the house, whispers of sweet nothings…He’s by your side well into the night, keeping it up until it finally comes time to start pushing.

He definitely was not going to say it while you were going through the motions because he’d like to keep his head, but human and goat births are pretty much the same thing minus the actual cursing. He’s in his element then, knowing exactly what to do to ensure a safe delivery for mama and baby. His movements are almost automatic, trained by years of practice as he cleans the little one off before taking the time to admire them fully.

Are you shocked that Twilight is teary eyed? Not at all. Are you upset that he almost forgets about you entirely for a second because he’s so entranced by the baby? Also no, since you need a moment to catch your breath anyway. Don’t worry, though, he does eventually pass you your son reluctantly before hovering at your side with possibly the widest grin you’ve ever seen on the man since your wedding day. 

The rest of the night is calm from there on, filled with quiet whispers and cooing as you both take turns partaking in skin-to-skin contact with your baby. Will you be doing this again soon? You’re probably going to need a decent break to recover, but just know that your husband is absolutely ready whenever you are. In the meantime, expect to be showered in endless love and affection because you deserve it for the priceless gift you’ve given him.

Your relationship with Warrior has always been ‘slow moving’ if compared to most other couples’. For starters, while he may have a formidable reputation for being a supposed lady's man, all that 'skill' of his would go flying out the window whenever faced with your presence, so it took some time (and maybe a near-death experience) for any confessions to be made. In his defense, you're a very beautiful and strong woman who happened to be one of his superiors during most of the war, so please excuse him for usually being awed into silence whenever you showed even an ounce of interest in ‘lil ol’ him. His brain would literally become a windows error.

Even after Warrior did finally find the courage to ask you out, your respected jobs and heavy workloads have often forced your relationship to be put on the back-burner. Marry you? Hylia knows he’s been DYING to! You’re already wearing the ring and everything, but it's not like you're going anywhere anytime soon and he'd rather wait a few extra years to enjoy the perfect moment rather than rush the whole ‘happiest-day-of-our-lives’ thing during a bad time.

Luckily for him, you've never needed a formal certificate to know you own his heart. He proves it to you in other ways every day from cheesy love letters to overly romantic dates during your rare off time, and while you normally adore being the sole subject of his affection, that's exactly how you ended up in this very situation.

You're both adults and as such you won't pretend to be innocent: This wasn't planned in the slightest. Your jobs can be quite chaotic, as previously addressed, so you just wanted to help your husband-to-be relax and destress a bit - nothing new for either of you in itself, although that particular evening would end up weighing heavily on your mind a few weeks later.

To be honest, when you first entered Warrior's office and instructed him to sit down with a stern voice that could rival Commander Impa's, he thought you must've finally grown tired of being engaged for several years, having come to him then to demand that he marry you sooner. Agreement was right on the tip of his tongue when you delivered the bombshell that you were pregnant instead.

Your tone was serious and expression calm, but Warrior knows you well enough to spot the hidden worry in your eyes. It’s justified, of course. Had either of you even discussed having kids before? He doesn’t think so. It’s not like having a baby is a bad thing, though. The idea of creating a small family with you is a pleasant one, it’s just…happening a lot sooner than preferred. You both would’ve liked more time to plan and prepare…but oh well. What’s done is done. 

The real concern is will your jobs allow you both time off to take care of a baby? It's not like a war is currently going on, so Hyrule won't suffer too much from having two of its best captains sidelined, however what happens if that doesn't remain the case? What if war breaks out tomorrow or the day after? Warrior can’t let his pregnant fiancée fight in battles! What kind of husband and father would that make him?! But at the same time, is he just supposed to ask that you sacrifice your career in order to spare his? THAT’S NO BETTER!

...All things considered, you'd say Warrior handles the news far better than some might've. Yes, he begins to ‘slightly’ overthink things, although that's exactly why you had him sit down first. Calmly, you take his hand and tell him how things will be (your own way of offering comfort not only to him, but yourself as well). The bottom line is that if you could successfully fight Ganondorf’s army together, you can raise a child together, too. Really, how much harder can it be? You already have some minor experience being unofficial parents to little Time and Wind during the war. Just don't give your own children any magic masks or wind controlling devices and you should be golden.

Thankfully, many of Warrior’s initial fears are proven to be irrational during the earliest stages of your pregnancy. Everyone else was positively thrilled to hear the news and even Impa gave her congratulations, explaining to your fiancé’s relief that she’ll simply assign you more deskwork until it’s fit for you to return back to your normal duties. All he has to worry about in the meantime is making sure you actually take it easy; only a slightly difficult task considering your headstrong nature and insistence on not being ‘coddled’, but hey, if anyone can handle it, it’s the guy who’s hellbent on marrying your stubborn butt one day.

Warrior will admit that there were still some nights when he would nearly pull his hair out while doubting if he’s actually ready to be a dad, however the moment you officially being showing is the same moment he forgets all about any possible regrets and replaces them entirely with daydreams filled with not only his lovely wife, but also a little one who will hopefully think the absolute world of him. He already knows he’ll think of it of them.

Although you may feel a bit nervous towards the prospect of suddenly being parents, that doesn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t choose anyone else to go through this journey with. One look to your side and you’re certain of it. The way Warrior holds his son for the first time, newborn wrapped comfortably in his scarf and dad, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion after hours of labor yet the proud smile evident on his face nevertheless…You were right before: so long as you do it together, you’ll excel in this whole ‘parenting-thing’.

You had married young - almost as soon as you were able after graduating from the Knight Academy. To everyone else on Skyloft, you have always been the picture image of an ideal couple; the hero and his beloved princess who somehow manage to be completely and utterly smitten with each other even years later. To call Sky your husband is a blessing in itself and you consider yourself lucky every single day. There’s only ever been one problem with your relationship - one single complaint you can think of where neither of you are truly responsible: your lack of children.

When you first married, there was lots of talk, after all everyone was simply dying to know when the first generation on the Surface would be born. Your parents were eager for grandchildren and Zelda, your best friend, had way too much fun teasing you over the matter by expressing her 'surprise' that Sky had yet to give you a baby despite how 'passionate' he’s always been towards you (she would make sure to use those exact words, too). 

Initially, you never minded anyone’s curiosity. It’s only natural to expect children from a newly wed couple. It's when that same couple reaches their third then sixth year of marriage without any trace of tiny feet or squealing laughter that those curious and well-meant questions grow quiet with unbearable pity, your shared excitement becoming shuttered sorrow.

At the start there was nothing to worry about. You were both young and not putting that much effort into it, so certain it wouldn't take long for your family to grow. Then the years began to pass and you would try everything the doctor recommended, but every test would still leave you as disappointed as the last. The absolutely worst form of despair came those few times you'd actually get your hopes up only to have them cruelly dashed a few months in.

What were you doing wrong? Sky would always hush your anxieties and do his utmost best to reassure you, however you knew by his own tears that your infertility hurt him just as much, especially when on those quieter nights, you'd suggest that perhaps you simply weren't meant to be parents - that the gods were just trying to tell you both something you were too stubborn to accept.

It's for that reason that you had such mixed emotions once finally able to fall pregnant again. You were optimistic deep down, however after six years of attempts and losses, you were wary to embrace too much joy right away which was shown in the way Sky held onto you for what felt like hours after you told him or how he slept each night with a hand on your stomach even in those early days, internally praying to the goddesses this would be the one.

A month passed...Then two...And three, and four…For once, you didn't feel sick aside from what was considered normal. Maybe a bit of high blood pressure the doctor kept a close eye on, but other than that he’d always tell Sky and you the same thing: they're healthy.

Even then, you’d say you remained extra cautious, not daring to eat nor do anything the doctor so much as hesitated against, however Sky was by far the worst when it came to worrying. As your husband, he considers your physical and mental well-being his personal responsibility, but as the father of your child? His work has doubled!

All chores were to be his alone so that you could rest. Any bout of sickness was closely monitored and tended to. His hand would remain on your stomach from beginning to end, although overtime it would be done less out of fear and more for the sake of bounding, often accompanied by his voice or the melody of his harp which he would happily play for you both whenever you were having a particularly difficult time falling asleep at night.

Now, you didn't dare tell anyone about your pregnancy during the first half, not wanting to deliver anymore bad news should it come, however once the remilit was out of the bag, you became the center of attention much to Sky's conflicted feelings. On one hand, you deserved it for all of your hard work growing a baby, but on the other, that overprotective dad-side of him couldn't help fretting over the vast number of harmful germs your guests could possibly be passing onto you and your unborn child. Did he make everyone wash their hands for ten minutes before visiting? Yes, yes he did.

Beyond being protective, Sky was also very emotional throughout the entire pregnancy maybe even more than you sometimes. He got teary-eyed after every doctor's appointment that confirmed the baby's development, while picking out names together, and even when you were yelling at him for something stupid because as far as he was concerned, you still looked so beautiful standing there with crossed arms and a round belly carrying his child. Oh, but none of that compared in the slightest to the tears that were shed when he actually held his daughter for the first time; that amount of waterworks could put the flood of Faron to shame!

Six years of waiting made you both lose hope. You assumed you’d never be able to have children of your own and even began to look towards other options such as adoption or simply living your lives childless forever…but the day your daughter was born was the day all your anxieties and doubts were finally put to rest. Now, as you cry happily with your husband, you can’t think of a single complaint towards your relationship; it’s officially as perfect as the precious little bundle in your arms.

Wild and you were still practically newlyweds when you gave him the 'thrilling' news. You were so happy to do so, too, barely able to bite back your excitement while watching your husband lift a small pair of baby pajamas out of a gift box. You were absolutely glowing as you eagerly awaited his reaction and all he could do was simply stare into space as his whole world came crashing down on top of him. Did he look horrified on the outside? He must've, because he swears he could’ve pinpointed the exact moment that shine in your eyes died, a frown etching its way onto your lips. What else was he supposed to do aside from fake a smile and embrace you, keeping you close to his chest so that your delight wouldn't be spoiled by his internal nervous breakdown?

Wild has zero right to be shocked. You had both been intimate (as tends to happen when you're married) not to mention you had made it perfectly clear from the start of your relationship that you would want a family one day. Judging on your eagerness towards the topic, it was never up for debate either; no kids would be a dealbreaker for you, so Wild had no choice but to quietly agree, too afraid to dare utter the truth or voice any hesitation because Hylia forbid you get the wrong idea and leave him. 

He thought it would be harmless. Some couples remain married for years before any children follow and you weren't in any big hurry, so he figured he'd have plenty of time to get his act together until the day of your dreams arrived; he didn't think it would happen during your first year of marriage! ...Now he's really dug himself into a hole it's too late to try escaping from…

He’s almost said something - a few times actually. He knows it’s only fair and that as your husband, he owes you proper communication, but each time he opens his mouth, his mind curses him with the image of your sadness. What if you think he doesn’t want this at all? What if you think he hates the baby and hates you for being pregnant? What if you concluded he must want to leave you so you decide to beat him to the punch?! 

…Okay, so Wild knows you aren’t going to just walk away. You’ve always been good at listening to his inner demons and acting as his strongest pillar of support, but that doesn’t change his fear that you might be hurt by whatever he has to say and he will not allow himself to ruin your own excitement. 

In the years that he’s known you, he can’t say he’s ever seen you quite as happy as when you found out about your baby. He knows he should match that joy, too. Most men do. Hell, Twilight practically sent a five-page essay bragging about his wife's first pregnancy. Truth be told, Wild actually does feel happy. On his better days, he feels that flicker of pride and a hint of eagerness because a family with you honestly sounds wonderful. The problem is, in his mind, it isn't a question as to what he wants, but rather what he deserves. 

So much has gone wrong in his past. It doesn’t matter how much you or anyone else assures him otherwise, it’s hard to shake the feeling that he failed Hyrule. He still suffers from so many nightmares and waves of guilt that he can’t properly put into words. You’re still having to shake him out of dazes and smooth his following sobs…How is he going to be a good dad and be there for his child when he can barely stand upon his own two feet like this?

Initially, Wild thought these feelings would go away; that’s why he never spoke them to you. He wanted so desperately to believe they wouldn’t linger, especially after you both got married. He lives in a peaceful world, has a nice home in a quiet village, a beautiful wife who adores him…He should’ve been able to move on from the Calamity already, so why hasn’t he? On his worst nights, it makes him wonder if he’ll ever be okay or if he’s just screwed you and the baby over by tying you both down to him.

These two sides of him - the hopeful and the pitiful - continue to battle for dominance inside Wild’s head throughout each step. Sometimes he’s genuinely smiling with you as you pick out baby names. Other times he’s sitting outside alone trying his damn hardest to remember any piece of his past that might make him feel at least a little better about his luck towards being a dad, preferably a time when he was actually good with kids or even had a family before. 

Wild’s internal dilemma comes to a head one fateful night when he’s awoken to the baby’s distressing cries. He had honestly already been awake after a mild case of anxiety, but you on the other hand are tired, worn from nine long months of pregnancy and the early days of active motherhood. The last thing he wants is for you to lose out on precious rest (a rare gift these days), so leaping out of bed, he’s quick to reach the baby’s crib.

Unfortunately, Wild’s natural instincts seem to basically stop right there at the crib’s side. Hands hovering above, he tries his best to calm his daughter through whispered assurances and attempts at cooing the same way he’s seen you do. When that doesn’t work, he awkwardly picks her up, cuddling her close to his chest while quietly pleading at this point. Is she hungry? Does she need a diaper change? Did she have a nightmare? Whatever it is, if you wake up, you’ll take over and he’ll be left to stand aside feeling like he can’t even do the basic task of comforting his own child and -

- To his astonishment, his efforts actually work. It really must’ve been as simple as a nightmare because slowly, the baby falls silent, seemingly forgetting all about her troubles as she finds solace gazing up at her daddy with the widest blue eyes and a stuck-out tongue that can’t seem to keep itself in her mouth. It looks rather goofy, so Wild can’t help but chuckle, although the sound is soft as his heart melts under the attention she holds towards him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it’s almost like she’s looking at her entire world…

Maybe some would say this moment isn’t necessarily anything special, but for Wild, it’s everything. As if suddenly a pro, he’s able to rock the little beauty gently back to sleep, his pleas turning into words of admiration as he tucks her into bed. There, he continues to keep watch over her until he feels tired himself, all the while thinking: he might be broken from years of trauma, and he might not be the best husband or parent out there because of it, but that's not going to stop him from doing everything in power to be there for his princesses.

[hauntingofhouses]

Seeing fan discussions about Blue Eye Samurai and especially Mizu's identity is so annoying sometimes. So let me just talk about it real quick.

First off, I have to emphasise that different interpretations of the text are always important when discussing fiction. That's how the whole branch of literary studies came to be, and what literary criticism and analysis is all about: people would each have their own interpretation of what the text is saying, each person applying a different lens or theory through which to approach the text (ie. queer theory, feminist theory, reader response theory, postcolonial theory, etc) when analysing it. And while yes, you can just take everything the authors say as gospel, strictly doing so would leave little room for further analysis and subjective interpretation, and both of these are absolutely necessary when having any meaningful discussion about a piece of media.

With that being said, when discussing Blue Eye Samurai, and Mizu's character in particular, I always see people only ever interpret her through a queer lens. Because when discussing themes of identity, yes, a queer reading can definitely apply, and in Mizu's story, queer themes are definitely present. Mizu has to hide her body and do her best to pass in a cisheteronormative society; she presents as a man 99% of the time and is shown to be more comfortable in men's spaces (sword-fighting) than in female spaces (homemaking). Thus, there's nothing wrong with a queer reading at all. Hell, some queer theorists interpret Jo March from Little Women as transmasc and that's totally valid, because like all analyses, they are subjective and argumentative; you have the choice to agree with an interpretation or you can oppose it and form your own.

To that end, I know many are equally adamant that Mizu is strictly a woman, and that's also also a completely valid reading of the text, and aligns with the canon "Word of God", as the creators' intention was to make her a woman. And certainly, feminist themes in the show are undeniably present and greatly colour the narrative, and Episode 4 & 5 are the clearest demonstrations of this: Mizu's protectiveness of Madame Kaji and her girls, Mizu's trauma after killing Kinuyo, her line to Akemi about how little options women have in life, and the way her husband had scorned her for being more capable than him in battle.

I myself personally fall into the camp of Mizu leaning towards womanhood, so i tend to prefer to use she/her pronouns for her, though I don't think she's strictly a cis woman, so I do still interpret her under the non-binary umbrella. But that's besides my point.

My gripe here, and the thing that spurred me to write this post, is that rarely does this fandom even touch upon the more predominant themes of colonialism and postcolonial identities within the story. So it definitely irks me when people say that the show presenting Mizu being cishet is "boring." While it's completely fine to have your opinion and to want queer rep, a statement like that just feels dismissive of the rest of the representation that the show has to offer. And it's frustrating because I know why this is a prevalent sentiment; because fandom culture is usually very white, so of course a majority of the fandom places greater value on a queer narrative (that aligns only with Western ideas of queerness) over a postcolonial, non-Western narrative.

And that relates to how, I feel, people tend to forget, or perhaps just downplay, that the crux of Mizu's internal conflict and her struggle to survive is due to her being mixed-race.

Because while she can blend in rather seamlessly into male society by binding and dressing in men's clothing and lowering her voice and being the best goddamn swordsman there is, she cannot hide her blue eyes. Even with her glasses, you can still see the colour of her eyes from her side profile, and her glasses are constantly thrown off her face in battle. Her blue eyes are the central point to her marginalisation and Otherness within a hegemonic society. It's why everyone calls her ugly or a monster or a demon or deformed; just because she looks different. She is both white and Japanese but accepted in neither societies. Her deepest hatred of herself stems primarily from this hybridised and alienated identity. It's the whole reason why she's so intent on revenge and started learning the way of the sword in the first place; not to fit in better as a man, but to kill the white men who made her this way. These things are intrinsic to her character and to her arc.

Thus, to refuse to engage with these themes and dismiss the importance of how the representation of her racial Otherness speaks to themes of colonialism and racial oppression just feels tone-deaf to the show's message. Because even if Mizu is a cishet woman in canon, that doesn't make her story any less important, because while you as a white queer person living in the West may feel unrepresented, it is still giving a voice to the stories of people of colour, mixed-race folks, and the myriad of marginalised racial/ethnic/cultural groups in non-Western societies.

[thesilverlady]

https://www.tumblr.com/thesilverlady/714253266548047872/unpopular-opinion-i-dont-think-that-aegon-was-a

Not same anon, but septon Eustace was said to document the sexual rumours/scandalous but unlike Mushroom he didn't like writing about it or exaggerated it. So Eustace said that as a teenager Aegon was sulky, lazy and had wondering hands. Now this is pretty much SA by our modern standards but sadly these things are normalised in Westros. I think many parts of Aegon's upbringing, childhood, and Adult life are left ambiguous for us to interpret (just like many parts of f&b) So the question if this kind of behaviour has developed to rape is left to the reader to determine. And i like to not take Mushroom's account of this whole 12yr girl giving him blowjob *ew* because in the original novel (The princess and the queen) it has mentioned that Aegon was with his mistress and he refused to usurp Rhaenyra at first. My main problem of this whole situation is that people keep assuming the worst of Aegon for some reason

And i am not saying that Aegon was kind of a feminist man lmao but to me he is very tame compares to other characters. because a lot of these people who draw the line at Aegon actually love characters who are waaay problematic than Aegon like Aemond who keeps calling Rhaenyra a whore 24/7 , Helaena a broodmare, killed Alys's whole family and then claimed her as a war prize, commit what we can consider a genocide in the riverlands. Or they love Maegor (i love Maegor btw) who was a tyrant and forced women to marry him then killed some of them because they couldn't give him sons. I think we can all like characters regardless of their morality because at the end of the day they're fictional not real so liking only heroic morally good characters is just soo boring ( i prefer villains more) but i hate how the fandom tends to humiliate people over what fictional character they find more interesting. And thank you for being one of the tiniest minority who is willing to engage in discussions rather than being hostile like most of team green/black spaces.

I wanna say I'm sorry for the long reply 😅 but you brought up lots of interesting facts and I couldn't help myself with replying longer.

So, let's start with the "Eustace was said to document the sexual rumours/scandalous but unlike Mushroom he didn't like writing about it or exaggerated it" Eustace, like so many other maesters we see in f&b is extremely biased. I think due to Mashroom's dramatic self lots of ppl feel safer with relying on septon Eustace and I don't think that's a great idea.

Lots of maesters we see from f&b are very sly with pinning the blame to women, especially when showing favoritism for a man. They're also very anti magic and generally anti Targaryen. It makes reading f&b quite challenging because it's easy to just fall into their biased perspective. But you can see the transition during Jaehaerys I ruling, who of course was probably their favorite due to him complying more and more with the faith.

So what I'm trying to say is, while septon Eustace hardly had any love for the targaryens he still favored Aegon II - a man. Who he wouldn't want to bring out such scandalized actions mostly because what would it say about him? A septon siding with such a lecherous king?

don't get me wrong. I still don't buy mashroom's version of that event but I still think the truth was somewhere in the middle and Eustace tried to make it look better for the sake of his own self image and then the king's.

Obviously Aegon's actions in regards of women are more dismissed inside the world of asoiaf despite being punishable because of his status as a prince/king.

Of course as you said many parts of Aegon's upbringing/childhood/adult life are left ambiguous and left for us to interpret just like with many other characters such as Rhaneyra/Aemond and many more.

However there are lines here and there that do help our interpretation. For instance, one of the reasons why I'm not overly fond of making show!Aemond some poor victim of bullying who grows up to be self-restraint man of wisdom is because that's not him. A targaryen prince like himself wouldn't get bullied like this, there's no reason for his brother to side with his nephews that are alledgedy favored by his father instead of his own blood and when the family dinner later happens we get the line that Aemond "remained a wild and willful child, hot-tempered and unforgiving". The word "remained" implies that he was like that in childhood, so the show version falls apart.

"in the original novel (The princess and the queen) it has mentioned that Aegon was with his mistress and he refused to usurp Rhaenyra at first"

here we fall into a problem that comes from grrm being unable to often keep up with his own story. I don't blame him because the world of asoiaf is massive but we should be used on events contradicting one another.

these characters are quite new compared to the ones we know. The Princess and the Queen was published in 2013, its prequel The Rogue Prince in 2014 before they were both expanded further in fire and blood which was punished in 2018. So, personally I prefer going with the latest version because I think that's more reliable with what George wants the readers to know.

So while the Princess & the queen may have used the word mistress, f&b used the word paramour. And in both versions we never see a mention of this girl ever again. A paramour/mistress to a prince wouldn't be dismissed that easily in my opinion, which is what prompts me to believe Eustace came up at the spot that the girl was that as a cover. Aegon refusing to usurp Rhaneyra exists in f&b too.

"My main problem of this whole situation is that people keep assuming the worst of Aegon for some reason"

I mean.... I don't blame you here 'cause you're right 😅 My humble opinion is that Aemond for example is waaay more unhinged and dangerous than Aegon but for some reason Aegon is treated like he's Satan. I completely agree with everything you said. The fandom is filled with bunch of hypocrites. I too actually love Maegor but I don't pretend like it wasn't mentioned he raped women. At the same time, I have moots on twt who love joking about him and praising but then they'll cause wwiii if they see a semi-positive tweet about Aegon II.

in the end of the day, it doesn't even matter if Aegon ii was an actual rapist or not. Back before hotd even existed and some minority argued against Rhaenyra, the word "rape" wasn't even brought up because there were a bunch of other reasons to explain why a reader didn't support Aegon or the Greens. Team black and team green now throw words like "rape" or "grooming" as a gotcha and to be shitty at fans who enjoy dark characters

"I think we can all like characters regardless of their morality because at the end of the day they're fictional not real so liking only heroic morally good characters is just soo boring (i prefer villains more) but i hate how the fandom tends to humiliate people over what fictional character they find more interesting."

I completely agree with you and I feel for the hurt lots of people go through in this fandom. I also adore villains, and favor imbalanced dynamics between ships, which of course brings the nastiest antis to humiliate and shame you all day everyday.

Both team green & team black have many bad apples. idk about tumblr but Twitter has been hell for me - which is why I'm taking a break from that place.

I'm very happy you feel comfy to send me an ask and don't feel hesitant to reply if you wish. Even if we don't agree with something, I get the sense you're one of the normal people who understand this is just fiction and there's no need to become aggressive animals over characters that are ink on a page.

[chipstertool]

Heterosexuality: Disdainful Love in Real Life, Media, and Fandom

Hello everyone, this is Chip speaking about something that I've noticed towards a sexuality that you have seen most often: heterosexuality. Now, heterosexuality, for those who don't know, is a sexuality where a man or woman is attracted to the opposite sex. This sexuality has been the main forefront throughout many stories within the realm of fiction although, there have been cases where some relationships have taken a turn where it turns miserable, resentful, toxic, or destructive.

In some cases, there are heterosexual relationships that feature a male and female loving each other to the fullest with some ups and downs on the side; however, there are couples within fiction that presents itself as miserable as possible and leaves implications that this sexuality is a curse for those who have this attraction. In reality, we know that relationships can vary between normally healthy and dangerously toxic yet we see a lot more negatives towards the most common sexuality. But why is that exactly?

One theme I could present would be the ‘miserable married couple’ in the media where the couple, in question, are happily married to each other yet absolutely miserable with and around each other. This can also fall into the ’nagging wife & lazy husband’ trope where the wife is competent while the husband is incompetent, mostly within a household setting. Another thing would be the ol’ ball n’ chain saying, usually towards wives, where it implies that the individual’s (mostly the husband’s) freedom becomes limited after marriage. Though it could be left as a silly exaggeration between a wife and husband, it presents something that is shown in reality: hetero-pessimism and hetero-fatalism. With these terms, what do they really mean towards this discussion as a whole? 

Hetero-pessimism is a term used on the disappointments, frustrations, resentments within heterosexual relationships while hetero-fatalism is a term focused on embarrassment, shamefulness, and hopelessness of the sexual orientation. Both of these terms, in a way, present the belief that heterosexual relationships are inherently flawed and are bound to likely fail at any given moment. One could wish that it was all proven false yet we see men and women having this disdain for each other, especially in social media as there have been instances of this notion such as Twitter. As an example, a tweet, created by a woman, would proclaim that men should be able to be emotional yet view it as a turn off & a tweet, created by a man, could say that women should have sex after marriage for a greater connection yet would get upset that a woman won’t give it up after the first date. Additionally, this would create misandry and misogyny respectively where men and women are at each other’s throats at any given moment while letting bad apples mix the pot. Although, does this disdain reflect towards fictional heterosexual couples in any way?

Perhaps since these relationships tend to be criticized within fandoms where it can go from genuine to bogus by their claim towards these couples to which are labeled as m/f within fandom culture. With genuine consideration, it may be from how the pairing is developed and/or executed such as the 'main guy gets with the main girl’ trope in which people would agree and leave it at that. On the other hand, some of these criticisms can become hypocritical when they proclaim that the pairing is problematic due to things such as age gap, power differences, specific dynamic, etc. while favoring another that usually features a pairing involving a couple of the same sex. Moreover, even when a heterosexual pairing is wholesome enough, it doesn’t halt the disdain towards the sexuality as it would reach to the point of wishing the male and female in question were in same sex pairings instead or didn’t exist at all. 

One could provide a “solution” that the pairing is bisexual yet that solution would be on a thin thread due to how bisexuality is viewed in real life and fandoms as people would praise them for being in a relationship with the same sex yet condemn them for being in one with the opposite sex. Another “solution” would be the ’Girlboss x Malewife’ dynamic where the male is submissive and female is dominant; though it is met with positive reception, many would claim that this is the “only” acceptable dynamic and that everything else involving a heterosexual pairing are problematic and/or boring.

Now, is there any solution for this problem? Likely not for the time being due to how the reception towards heterosexual relationships are within fandoms. Even when people (LGBT and non-LGBT) do like a m/f pairing, they’ll more likely to be called ‘boring’ by others and some would attempt to downplay the pairing in favor of the same sex version along with ‘spicer’ stuff that would’ve been seen as automatically problematic within a m/f pairing. 

If there’s something I missed, feel free to add in your reply!

[fozmeadows]

race & culture in fandom

For the past decade, English language fanwriting culture post the days of LiveJournal and Strikethrough has been hugely shaped by a handful of megafandoms that exploded across AO3 and tumblr – I’m talking Supernatural, Teen Wolf, Dr Who, the MCU, Harry Potter, Star Wars, BBC Sherlock – which have all been overwhelmingly white. I don’t mean in terms of the fans themselves, although whiteness also figures prominently in said fandoms: I mean that the source materials themselves feature very few POC, and the ones who are there tended to be done dirty by the creators.

Periodically, this has led POC in fandom to point out, extremely reasonably, that even where non-white characters do get central roles in various media properties, they’re often overlooked by fandom at large, such that the popular focus stays primarily on the white characters. Sometimes this happened (it was argued) because the POC characters were secondary to begin with and as such attracted less fan devotion (although this has never stopped fandoms from picking a random white gremlin from the background cast and elevating them to the status of Fave); at other times, however, there has been a clear trend of sidelining POC leads in favour of white alternatives (as per Finn, Poe and Rose Tico being edged out in Star Wars shipping by Hux, Kylo and Rey). I mention this, not to demonize individuals whose preferred ships happen to involve white characters, but to point out the collective impact these trends can have on POC in fandom spaces: it’s not bad to ship what you ship, but that doesn’t mean there’s no utility in analysing what’s popular and why through a racial lens.

All this being so, it feels increasingly salient that fanwriting culture as exists right now developed under the influence and in the shadow of these white-dominated fandoms – specifically, the taboo against criticizing or critiquing fics for any reason. Certainly, there’s a hell of a lot of value to Don’t Like, Don’t Read as a general policy, especially when it comes to the darker, kinkier side of ficwriting, and whether the context is professional or recreational, offering someone direct, unsolicited feedback on their writing style is a dick move. But on the flipside, the anti-criticism culture in fanwriting has consistently worked against fans of colour who speak out about racist tropes, fan ignorance and hurtful portrayals of living cultures. Voicing anything negative about works created for free is seen as violating a core rule of ficwriting culture – but as that culture has been foundationally shaped by white fandoms, white characters and, overwhelmingly, white ideas about what’s allowed and what isn’t, we ought to consider that all critical contexts are not created equal.

Right now, the rise of C-drama (and K-drama, and J-drama) fandoms is seeing a surge of white creators – myself included – writing fics for fandoms in which no white people exist, and where the cultural context which informs the canon is different to western norms. Which isn’t to say that no popular fandoms focused on POC have existed before now – K-pop RPF and anime fandoms, for example, have been big for a while. But with the success of The Untamed, more western fans are investing in stories whose plots, references, characterization and settings are so fundamentally rooted in real Chinese history and living Chinese culture that it’s not really possible to write around it. And yet, inevitably, too many in fandom are trying to do just that, treating respect for Chinese culture or an attempt to understand it as optional extras – because surely, fandom shouldn’t feel like work. If you’re writing something for free, on your own time, for your own pleasure, why should anyone else get to demand that you research the subject matter first?

Because it matters, is the short answer. Because race and culture are not made-up things like lightsabers and werewolves that you can alter, mock or misunderstand without the risk of hurting or marginalizing actual real people – and because, quite frankly, we already know that fandom is capable of drawing lines in the sand where it chooses. When Brony culture first reared its head (hah), the online fandom for My Little Pony – which, like the other fandoms we’re discussing here, is overwhelmingly female – was initially welcoming. It felt like progress, that so many straight men could identify with such a feminine show; a potential sign that maybe, we were finally leaving the era of mainstream hypermasculine fandom bullshit behind, at least in this one arena. And then, in pretty much the blink of an eye, things got overwhelmingly bad. Artists drawing hardcorn porn didn’t tag their works as adult, leading to those images flooding the public search results for a children’s show. Women were edged out of their own spaces. Bronies got aggressive, posting harsh, ugly criticism of artists whose gijinka interpretations of the Mane Six as humans were deemed insufficiently fuckable.

The resulting fandom conflict was deeply unpleasant, but in the end, the verdict was laid down loud and clear: if you cannot comport yourself like a decent fucking person – if your base mode of engagement within a fandom is to coopt it from the original audience and declare it newly cool only because you’re into it now; if you do not, at the very least, attempt to understand and respect the original context so as to engage appropriately (in this case, by acknowledging that the media you’re consuming was foundational to many women who were there before you and is still consumed by minors, and tagging your goddamn porn) – then the rest of fandom will treat you like a social biohazard, and rightly so.

Here’s the thing, fellow white people: when it comes to C-drama fandoms and other non-white, non-western properties? We are the Bronies.

Not, I hasten to add, in terms of toxic fuckery – though if we don’t get our collective shit together, I’m not taking that darkest timeline off the table. What I mean is that, by virtue of the whiteminding which, both consciously and unconsciously, has shaped current fan culture, particularly in terms of ficwriting conventions, we’re collectively acting as though we’re the primary audience for narratives that weren’t actually made with us in mind, being hostile dicks to Chinese and Chinese diaspora fans when they take the time to point out what we’re getting wrong. We’re bristling because we’ve conceived of ficwriting as a place wherein No Criticism Occurs without questioning how this culture, while valuable in some respects, also serves to uphold, excuse and perpetuate microaggresions and other forms of racism, lashing out or falling back on passive aggression when POC, quite understandably, talk about how they’re sick and tired of our bullshit.

An analogy: one of the most helpful and important tags on AO3 is the one for homophobia, not just because it allows readers to brace for or opt out of reading content they might find distressing, but because it lets the reader know that the writer knows what homophobia is, and is employing it deliberately. When this concept is tagged, I – like many others – often feel more able to read about it than I do when it crops up in untagged works of commercial fiction, film or TV, because I don’t have to worry that the author thinks what they’re depicting is okay. I can say definitively, “yes, the author knows this is messed up, but has elected to tell a messed up story, a fact that will be obvious to anyone who reads this,” instead of worrying that someone will see a fucked up story blind and think “oh, I guess that’s fine.” The contextual framing matters, is the point – which is why it’s so jarring and unpleasant on those rare occasions when I do stumble on a fic whose author has legitimately mistaken homophobic microaggressions for cute banter. This is why, in a ficwriting culture that otherwise aggressively dislikes criticism, the request to tag for a certain thing – while still sometimes fraught – is generally permitted: it helps everyone to have a good time and to curate their fan experience appropriately.

But when white and/or western fans fail to educate ourselves about race, culture and the history of other countries and proceed to deploy that ignorance in our writing, we’re not tagging for racism as a thing we’ve explored deliberately; we’re just being ignorant at best and hateful at worst, which means fans of colour don’t know to avoid or brace for the content of those works until they get hit in the face with microaggresions and/or outright racism. Instead, the burden is placed on them to navigate a minefield not of their creation: which fans can be trusted to write respectfully? Who, if they make an error, will listen and apologise if the error is explained? Who, if lived experience, personal translations or cultural insights are shared, can be counted on to acknowledge those contributions rather than taking sole credit? Too often, fans of colour are being made to feel like guests in their own house, while white fans act like a tone-policing HOA.

Point being: fandom and ficwriting cultures as they currently exist badly need to confront the implicit acceptance of racism and cultural bias that underlies a lot of community rules about engagement and criticism, and that needs to start with white and western fans. We don’t want to be the new Bronies, guys. We need to do better.  

[writtenfangirl]

Love Potion?

I SAW A POST WHERE A FICTIONAL CHARACTER FALLS IN LOVE WITH Y/N AND SAID FICTIONAL CHARACTER THOUGHT THEY WERE UNDER A LOVE SPELL AND GETS MAD AT THE NEAREST MAGICAL CHARACTER BUT NOPE THEY JUST CAUGHT THE FEELINGS™️

I thought for this pairing, I can introduce a new fandom. I know Harry Potter has been extremely controversial as of late but this series meant so much to me growing up. I complete disagree with JKR's views on transwomen and I highly believe that transwomen are real women. As far as I am concerned, Harry Potter is a collective fever dream that we all had as children.

Fred Weasley Fanfiction

Hogwarts during winter held a quiet beauty that couldn’t be compared to anything else, especially in the Gryffindor common room, at least, in Hermione’s opinion. Nothing could quite compare to the feeling of curling up in front of the warm fireplace, a drink by her side as she read tome after tome. It was her quiet, her sanctuary in the midst of the insanity that is usually brought about with her best mate fighting the darkest wizard in all of history.

Most of the time, the other Gryffindors knew not to bother Hermione as she was reading. She tended to get violent when she was forced to read the same paragraph over and over again. Although this time, she wasn’t being overtly bothered, hearing Fred, George and Ron arguing in the background didn’t exactly help her concentration.

“JUST ADMIT YOU DID IT!” Fred yelled angrily, his neck filled with angry red splotches, a common trait amongst the Weasley siblings whenever they got upset. “I SAW YOU SLIP SOMETHING IN MY DRINK!”

“I DIDN’T DO A BLOODY THING TO YOU!” Ron yelped as he dodged a fist that Fred sent his way.

“What exactly are they fighting about?” Ginny asked as she descended from the dorms and took a seat beside Harry, who was watching the fight, amused.

“Something about a potion,” Harry answered with a laugh. “It involves Y/N but I’m not quite sure how. You won’t try to stop them?”

“Not even mum can stop them if she wanted. She usually lets them tire each other out before she intervenes.”

Hermione’s annoyance soared. “If I have to read this paragraph again because—“

“YOU TROLL!” Fred yelled, lunging at Ron again before he was stopped by George holding him back. “I WILL—“

“ENOUGH!” Hermione said angrily, slamming the heavy book shut. She stood up, enraged, and glared at the fighting brothers. “What did Ron do that made you so angry that you’re fighting in the bloody common room while I’m reading?!”

Fred, George and Ron stared at her blankly. They looked almost comical. Fred’s hands were still in the air while he lunged at a cowering Ron with George’s arms wrapped around his twin’s middle in an effort to stop him from giving his younger brother a black eye.

“I didn’t do a bloody thing! Fred’s gone mental!” Ron accused.

“Mental?! I’ll show you mental!”

“STOP IT!” Hermione yelled before Fred could try and lunge at Ron again.

“Fred thinks Ron’s slipped a love potion in his drink,” George said, panting as he put his twin brother down.

“I don’t think it! I saw it!”

“You saw what you wanted to see,” Ron snapped. “I slipped water in your drink so you’ll finally see you like Y/N instead of following her around and whining and complaining about her every chance you could get!”

Fred blinked, dumbfounded. “What?”

As if on cue, the door to the common room swung open, revealing a gleeful Y/N, who strode into the room looking even happier than normal. Until, that is, she’d noticed the tense atmosphere.

“Everything alright, boys?” She asked the twins and Ron tentatively. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the brothers were the source of the tension. Their usually pristine clothes were rumpled, their faces red and splotchy, making their freckles standout starkly. Ron’s hair even stuck out at the back from when Fred pulled at it in an effort to reach Ron.

“Y-yes,” Fred managed to stutter out.

Hermione cracked an amused smile. It was almost comical how Fred Weasley, the Gryffindor who always swaggered about and around the castle, fully confident in himself and his, arguably, astounding abilities, stuttered while speaking to Y/N, one of the politest, nicest and humblest person she knew.

“Alright then,” Y/N said, the smile rushing back to her face as she made the climb towards the dormitories. “I’ll see you two at Potions. I can’t believe I nearly forgot my cauldron.”

Fred stared after her, eyes wide, mouth even wider as Y/N began climbing the steps to the dormitory

“Yeah, mate. You’re not in love,” George said sarcastically, earning a snicker from Harry, Ron, Ginny and even Hermione.

“I don’t fancy, Y/N,” Fred grumbled when Y/N was out of sight.

“That’s not what we saw,” Ginny snickered. “My big brother’s in love. And with Y/N no less!”

“I am not in love with Y/N!”

“Oh no, of course not,” Harry chimed in with a devilish smile. “You only ever stare after her and always somehow comment on the smell of her perfume.”

“It’s not my fault she smells like vanilla and strawberries,“ Fred said, his voice entering a dream like quality.

“Oh, Freddie,” George tutted as he took one of the vacant seats by the fireplace. “All grown up and in love.”

“I am not in love with Y/N!” Fred insisted, taking another seat.

“I can’t blame you, to be honest,” Ron said taking another seat. “She’s got nice—“ Ron paused at the sight of his brother’s stare and reconsidered his next words. “…hair. She’s got nice hair.”

“Nice hair?” Hermione scoffed with an eye roll. “Honestly, Ronald, have you never complimented a girl before?”

“She’s really quite beautiful, isn’t she?” Ginny chimed in. “I heard, even Cedric Diggory likes her.”

“What?” Fred asked, perking up. “Diggory likes her?”

“Mm-hmm,” Ginny nodded. “I heard he plans to ask her to the Yule Ball.”

“Y/N isn’t into buff Hufflepuffs,” Fred said snapped.

“Buff Hufflepuffs who are terribly handsome, athletic, smart and a Tri-Wizard champion?” Hermione teased.

“I could have been Tri-Wizard champion. And I’m just as handsome and clever as Diggory.” The redhead said defensively. “Those aren’t qualities Y/N looks for in a boy.”

“Because you know so well what Y/N likes,” Harry mocked.

“I thought Diggory liked Cho Chang?” Fred frowned.

“Cedric likes Cho?” Harry asked, perking up. “I—“

“Looks like little Harry’s got a crush,” Fred smirked, glad to have the subject moved away from him.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook yet, Fred,” George smirked. “We’re still talking about your love for Y/N.”

“I—“

As though she was summoned, the sound of bounding footsteps interrupted Fred as Y/N skipped down the stairs, her cauldron and textbook in hand. The group openly stared at her as she descended, causing a self-conscious frown to creep up on her otherwise lovely face. “Why are you all staring at me? Is there something on my face?” She touched her face, looking for a dirty mark that the five other Gryffindors were surely starting at.

“No. Your face is perfect,” Fred said dreamily before clearing his throat to bring his voice back down an octave. George shot his twin brother a funny look, causing Fred to glare at him, which George only smirked at.

“Oh,” Y/N said, a little surprised at Fred’s response. “Thank you, Fred. Your face is looking rather perfect too.”

Fred beamed at her. “I am terribly handsome, aren’t I?”

Y/N rolled her eyes but a small smiled had begun to lilt at the edge of her lips. “Yes, you are terribly handsome, Fred.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that, Y/N,” Ginny teased. “My brother’s already big head will get even bigger. Soon enough, it might not fit through the doors of the common room.”

Fred scowled at his sister and threw a pillow at her head, which she caught easily enough. Ginny stuck her tongue out at her brother while Y/N laughed.

“We’ll see you at potions, yeah?” Fred said to Y/N in an effort to change the topic.

“Oh, speaking of potions, do you think you can cover for me? I might be a tad late. Cedric sent me an owl asking me to meet him by the lake. Said he’d like to ask me something.”

“Oh? Well, Snape won’t like that. You being late. You’re his star student.” Fred said at the realization that Cedric might actually ask Y/N out to the Yule Ball.

“Snape doesn’t like a lot of things,” Y/N said, letting out a bell like laugh. “Besides, Cedric said it was important for me to be there. He might need help with homework or his task. I’d feel terrible if I ignored a friend in need.”

“Homework,” Fred said dubiously. “Diggory’s smart. I’m sure he doesn’t need much help.”

Y/N shrugged, her smile still wide. “Who knows. All I know is that a friend is in need. The least I can do is help our school’s Tri-Wizard champion.”

“Harry’s a Tri-Wizard champion. Won’t you help him?” Fred said weakly.

“Oh. Uhm, do you need help, Harry?”

Harry shook his head, his sable hair flying. “Not at all. I’ve got Hermione and Ron to help me out. You should go. The longer you wait here, the later you’ll be for Snape’s class.”

Y/N beamed at the Chosen One. “Well if our second Tri-Wizard champion says so.” And she slipped out of the door.

“Harry!” Fred snapped the moment the door closed after Y/N. “Why would tell her that? Diggory’s going to ask her out to the ball!”

“I know,” Harry smirked.

“She’ll say yes!” Fred groaned, slumping in his seat, expression glum. “Of course she’d say yes! Even I’d say yes to Diggory.”

“You know what you’ve got to do, mate,” George said, nudging Fred’s elbow that rested on the red velvet armchair.

“What?”

“Chase after her and ask her out before Diggory does.”

Fred stared at his twin for beat before he leapt off his chair and ran out the door, leaving the others in his dust.

“Think she’ll say yes?” George asked the others.

“Oh, absolutely,” Ginny nodded her head vigorously. “Y/N likes Fred even more than Fred likes Y/N.”

Ron swore, dug into his pockets and handed a snickering George and a smiling Ginny a galleon each.

“You were betting on this?” Hermione exclaimed, clearly appalled.

“Mum’s in on it,” Ginny replied smugly. “In fact, everyone in the family is. It’s not everyday Fred gets a crush.”

“Percy even bet that Fred would never confess his feelings,” George added. “Bloke now owes me five galleons.” A devious smile slithered its way to George’s mouth. “He’d hate to know that I’m spending these five galleons on tongue-tied toffee.”

“Do you reckon he’s caught up to her yet?” Harry asked.

“Oh, yes. Most definitely,” Hermione answered.

The group paused briefly and let the ringing silence envelope them, waiting for a sign of life beyond the common room doors.

For a moment, there was no sound aside from the occasional echoing chatter of people passing by the Gryffindor Tower in an effort to get to class.

“Do you hear anything?” Ginny asked. “He should be cheering by now, right?”

“What if he got rejected?” Harry asked, horrified.

“Fred? Rejected by Y/N? That’s a bloody joke if I saw one,” George snorted.

After a few moments, they heard the sound of Fred’s lonely footsteps as he entered through the common room, a crestfallen look on his face.

“Oh, Freddie,” George said, a frown on his own face at the sight of his twin’s sullen look.

“Looks like, Y/N isn’t so nice after all,” Ginny said sadly.

“It isn’t her fault, really,” Fred sniffled as he took a seat in one of free armchairs. “I was just too late.”

“You can always ask someone else. I’m sure the next girl you ask will say yes,” Hermione offered.

Fred waved her off miserably. “No. I don’t think that’s necessary. Y/N’s agreed to be my date.”

“Oh, Fred. I’m sure if you—“ Ron trailed off as Fred’s words sunk in. “What?”

Fred’s once miserable looked blossomed as his eyes brightened and he released a loud laugh. “You all should have seen your faces! You looked more devastated than I did!”

Ginny let out a sound of anger as she threw one of the throw pillows towards her older brother who easily caught it with one hand as he continued laughing.

“You really got us there, Freddie,” George laughed good-humoredly. “I nearly fell for that myself.”

“She actually said yes? How’d you ask her?” Ron asked.

“Looking for tips so that you can ask someone yourself?” Fred teased.

“No.” Ron’s face reddened into a blush.

“I just asked her if she’d like to go to the ball with me and she said yes.”

“Did she look happy?”

“Elated.”

“And she actually agreed?”

“Of course. It’s not everyday I ask someone out,” Fred said with a confident grin.

“Now you know what your next challenge is, right Fred?” Ginny said, a mischievous smirk on her face.

Fred frowned. “What?”

“Making sure mum sends you proper dress robes so you don’t look ridiculous standing next to Y/N at the ball.”

And with Fred’s resounding groan, it seemed he agreed.

[scuttling]

Happy Accidents

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,300 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Art, Neighbor Hotch, Shy and Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, It's soo sappy I'm sorry, Oral sex, Unprotected sex Summary: Aaron's new neighbor is out of his league for so many reasons: she's young, beautiful, artistic, unique, free-spirited, the kind of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. It's no wonder he ends up falling in love with her. *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! Against all of his better judgement, Aaron is kind of creeping on his new next door neighbor.

He is absolutely the type of man, any other time, to approach a woman he’s interested in and introduce himself, look for a way to connect, some common ground, but this is no ordinary woman.

She is out of his league in so many ways: young, beautiful, unique, free-spirited, the type of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. There’s not a chance in hell she would look twice at an old, stuffy, monotone suit with a seven year old son and perpetual bags under his eyes. That’s not him feeling bad about himself, it’s just the way the world works.

The first time he saw her, she was getting on the elevator while he was getting off of it, and they’d bumped into each other; she was wearing a short, flowy dress, and she’d smiled at him, apologized, eyes sparkling, smelling like she’d spent all day in the sunshine. It was the only time since Haley he’d ever entertained the idea of love at first sight.

She keeps to herself most of the time, gives off the air of being really cool and mysterious; their paths have crossed a few times since then—at the bank of mailboxes downstairs, in the hallway they share, once during a false alarm fire alarm—but he enjoys watching her paint more than anything.

They have balconies next to each other, and one night when he was tending to his herb garden—Jack enjoys watching the plants grow, and picking the herbs, Aaron likes to eat them—he spotted her standing on hers, facing away from him, in cut off jean shorts and a baggy t-shirt, barefoot. She’d been painting the city, the sky, with the sunset glowing behind her like she was the work of art, and he actually felt an ache in his chest, the feeling of missing someone he’s never really met.

Since that night, he’s started taking his work outside in the evenings after Jack goes to bed, and sitting in near silence while she paints, hums—sometimes songs he knows, sometimes songs he doesn’t. The first time he goes out before she does, she says hello when she drags her easel out, so he starts to say hello to her when she beats him there, too, but that’s pretty much the extent of their interaction. One evening when Aaron and Jack are getting home from dinner, she is lugging a canvas bigger than she is through the hallway and Jack almost runs headfirst into it; when he looks up, he exclaims about how big it is, and pretty—it’s covered with colors, something abstract and cheerful, and even if he’d seen it on the side of the road, he would have just known that she painted it. (That may be a good indicator that he’s getting in a little too deep.)

“Wow, that’s the biggest painting I’ve ever seen! And so many colors,” Jack says, awed. Aaron puts his hands on his shoulders to keep him out of her way; they’re already bothering her enough, when she’s clearly trying to get that giant thing home.

“It’s pretty cool, isn’t it? I carry bigger pieces around at my studio, believe it or not,” she says to him, poking her head around the side to look at him.

“You have a studio?” His eyes are wide with interest; his favorite subject has always been art, as evidenced by their refrigerator, which is covered in drawings. She offers him an even brighter smile.

“I do! It’s not far from here; it’s called Live in Color. There’s a big rainbow painted on the side.”

“That’s so cool; it must be awesome to have your own studio.” Aaron loves that Jack seems to be so passionate about this, but the way they are obviously holding her up has him feeling awkward; he tugs gently on Jack’s backpack.

“That is really cool, bud, but we should let her go. I’m sure that’s heavy.” She smiles, shrugs.

“It’s no trouble. Hey, actually, we have some children’s art classes at the studio, and you look like you’d fit right in with the Green group—ages 7-9?” She looks up at Aaron, who nods. “Maybe we can talk dad into bringing you down sometime. We do painting, drawing, and crafts, it’s really fun.” She’s still looking right at Aaron, gives him a little wink, and he swears to god he gets butterflies in his stomach.

He’s a grown man. A federal agent. With butterflies. It’s insane.

“Oh man, dad, please? Can I take classes at her studio pleeease?” Jack tugs on the sleeve of his suit, and he nods, smiles down at him.

“Yeah, absolutely, Jack. We’ll go down and get more information tomorrow?” he offers, to both placate him and finally free the poor girl from the conversation; he nods excitedly, and she smiles, looks sweet, genuinely happy Jack is so excited to take the class.

“Cool, I look forward to seeing you guys there. Actually, if you give me one sec, I can grab my card for you.” She passes them, carrying the canvas and looking effortless while she does it; she props it up against the wall to get her keys out, unlocks her door and heads in, pops back out with a business card in a vivid watercolor yellow. “It has the address and phone number for the studio on the front, and I put my cell on the back; I figured it couldn’t hurt, considering we live next door to each other. Now you know who to call if you ever have an art emergency.”

He takes the card from her fingers, flips it over just to see the handwritten name and number; he knew her script would be lovely, and it is, easy and flowing and natural. It suits her. He tries not to grin, or flush, or otherwise be awkward about the fact that she just gave him her phone number, however innocently.

“Thank you. We’ll see you tomorrow.” They turn to head for their apartment, and she clears her throat; he smiles a little, turns back, and she’s leaning casually up against the canvas with her arms crossed.

“You know my name now. What’s yours?” She’s just being polite, but he gets the goddamn butterflies again.

“Aaron.” She smiles, something beautiful and a little wild.

“Okay, Aaron. See you outside.” From then on, most of their free time, be it evenings or weekends, is spent at the studio. Aaron isn’t the only parent who sticks around—it’s an art class, not a daycare, he doesn’t feel right just dropping Jack off and leaving him there—and he’s also not the only parent, it seems, who is aware of his beautiful young neighbor.

“She’s incredible, right?” another dad says to him one evening, over by the coffee. Aaron looks him over briefly—it’s a job hazard, he sizes up everyone, but he already has a weird feeling about this guy. “I’ve been bringing my kid here for a month just to look at that little ass running around. My wife just thinks our daughter is just really into art.” He says it with a laugh, like that’s a ridiculous concept. Aaron feels himself start to boil.

“You shouldn’t be disrespectful. She’s doing a great thing here, for the children; she’s not doing it for you to ogle her.” He feels a little hypocritical, because he is also looking, but not like this guy. He knows guys like this. He puts away guys like this.

He glances over at Aaron, looking a little taken aback that someone actually commented on his behavior, then rolls his eyes.

“She doesn’t need you to defend her honor, buddy. She wouldn’t run around here in those overalls if she didn’t want us looking. It’s job security.” She’s wearing the overalls tonight, denim shorts with one of the straps unhooked, a t-shirt underneath, but it’s not as if she’s performing a striptease. She just looks like an artist, covered in drips of paint, smiling as she looks at the kids’ pictures over their shoulders. Aaron really, really hates this guy.

“In my experience, women usually dress for themselves; they probably have pockets, easier to keep things at hand that she may need, and it’s warm in here, so she’s likely dressing for comfort. She’s certainly not dressing for you.”

As if she can sense the tension, she looks over at them, flicks her eyes over Aaron, then the other guy, and walks over with a soft smile on her face.

“Hey, Aaron, Jack really wanted you to see what he’s working on.” She reaches out a hand, wraps it around his wrist and guides him over to Jack’s table. “I figured I’d save you,” she says when they’re out of earshot. “That guy sucks. He’s always saying creepy things to me and Alaina.”

“You should ask him to leave if he makes you uncomfortable,” he says, looking down at her with worry. “I can do it.” She shrugs.

“I would, but his daughter really does enjoy the class, and it’s not fair to her that her dad’s disgusting. It’s nothing we can’t handle.” She squeezes his wrist lightly. “Thanks, though. Hey Jack, show dad your project.” He peers over his shoulder, and it’s a pink and orange skyline, much like the one he saw her painting that first time on the balcony. “I asked the kids to paint my favorite thing today, and that’s sunset.”

“I saw you painting this one night,” he says, and then he feels abruptly like an idiot. She just smiles at him though, nods.

“Yeah, I’m a sucker for a beautiful sunset. It makes you feel like, just because the day ends, it doesn’t have to mean things are over; it’s just one of life’s beautiful natural transitions. And the colors are to die for: peach, coral, jasmine, rose, tiger’s eye.” He finds himself unexpectedly touched by her description, smiles softly to shake himself of the emotions.

“The way you see the world is extraordinary. To me it’s just kind of… orange.” She returns his expression, but softer, and squeezes his wrist again; he didn’t even realize she was still holding it.

“Sounds like you need some art in your heart. I give lessons for adults, too; you could even come over and paint with me on my balcony, some time. Special neighbor privileges.”

The thought of being with her on her balcony while she paints is almost overwhelming, which he finds funny, considering he currently sits no more than twenty feet away. There is an intimacy about it, while they both do their work in the cool, quiet breeze, but standing like this, close enough to touch, with the late day sun on her face while she talks about colors… he’s not sure he could handle it without falling in love.

She pats him on the back, moves on to another child, and he tells Jack what a great job he’s doing; his face is lit up, so happy, and regardless of the neighbor, he’s glad they stumbled upon this hobby.

When they pack up to leave, the jerk from earlier comes up to him, leans in to speak in a hushed voice. “You should have just told me you were fucking her. I would have backed off.” He blinks, but the guy and his daughter are walking out the door before he finds himself able to do more than that. About a week later, he goes over for that lesson almost by accident. Jack is at Jessica’s for the night at his request, and Aaron was planning to order takeout and have a paperwork cramming session, but when goes out onto the balcony, phone in hand to place an order, his neighbor is standing on hers like she’s waiting for him.

“Hey. I saw you don’t have Jack; I made some pasta with vodka sauce, if you’re hungry. I always prepare too much.” He sets his phone on the table, walks over to the railing to get a little closer.

“Uh. Sure. I have fresh basil growing here; trade?” She smiles, nods.

“Yeah, sounds delicious. I’ll be right back.” She ducks inside, returns a few moments later with two dishes of steaming, saucy pasta, sets one down on her table and gets right up against her railing, hands the other over to him across his. “That one’s for you,” she says, handing him an orange plate, and he sets it down, picks a few good looking leaves from his basil plant and tears them up, drops them on top. “And this one’s for me.” She reaches, holds a green plate over the gap between their porches, and he adds some basil to it before she pulls it back, takes a deep sniff. “God, it smells so good and fresh. Thank you, Aaron.”

“Thank you, it looks great.” He goes to sit at his table with it, but she scoots her chair closer to the railing, closer to his balcony, so he does the same. They make easy small talk while they eat, mostly about Jack, a little about her studio and his work.

“FBI, huh? I can definitely see that, with your suits, and your… neutrals.” She cringes when she says it, and it makes him laugh.

“I’m sorry I can’t wear paint covered overalls to the office,” he teases, and she shoots him a playfully affronted look, grins.

“You love my paint covered overalls—and for the record, you’d look great in them. You should find a pair. Preferably not black.” He flushes a little at that, but she doesn’t notice, just finishes up her pasta with a sigh of contentment. “That was so good, thanks again for the basil.”

“You’re welcome; thanks for feeding me something other than the takeout I planned to have.” He stands up, gestures to his apartment. “I’ll wash the plate and then hand it back over.”

“Why don’t you just bring it over and come paint with me for a little while? If you want,” she tacks on, and for the first time she seems a little nervous. “I’m not trying to be pushy, I just think it would be fun.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to; it would be amazing to watch her paint up close and personal. He’s just also afraid he’ll pass the point of no return if he does it, and he can’t handle any more heartache. He only very recently got to a place where just waking up in the morning no longer causes him agony.

It’s the look on her face, though, soft and sweet and open, that makes his decision for him.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.” She grins.

“I’ll unlock the door.”

She’s dragging out her easel when he walks through the door; her apartment is stark white walls with vibrant furniture, artwork, canvases propped up against every bare spot along the wall, paints and brushes and charcoal and pencils on every surface. It’s exactly what he would have expected, warm and lived-in and comforting, very unlike the mostly black and gray interior of his own apartment. She smiles when she sees him.

“Hey! Can you grab that tray of paint on your way out?” she asks, and he picks up what looks kind of like an ice cube tray filled with many different colors, carries it out to the balcony with him. She has a canvas propped up, a little larger than a computer monitor, and she’s gotten started, but he can’t tell what it’s going to be just yet. When he hands her the paint she looks down at it, peers around the edge of the canvas like she’s comparing something. He’s so intrigued, curious about the way her mind works, what she’s thinking.

“What are you painting?” he asks when she picks up a brush, sets it down, picks up another. She smiles at him.

“Well, we’re painting that.” She points to the street, where there’s a rusty, pale blue antique car parked—he says that loosely, because it looks broken down—in the alley. Aaron chuckles softly.

“We’re going to paint that? It’s a little… grim.”

“Yes. It’s part of a series I just decided to create: ‘Beauty in the Ordinary.’” She sighs, and he’s surprised to see that her eyes are a little wet. She wipes the back of her hand over her eyes. “You know Bob Ross, right? Everyone knows Bob Ross.” He nods.

“Yes; the guy who paints the happy trees on PBS.”

“Right. I used to watch him growing up, and I vividly remember something he said once, about needing both darkness and light in life and in painting. ‘You have to have a little sadness once in a while to know when the good times come. I’m waiting on the good times now.’” She sniffles, exhales softly. “I’m waiting on the good times too. Sometimes looking at things like this car, and forcing myself to find something beautiful in it, is the easiest way to get through the day. Does that make sense?” He swallows hard when she looks up at him, because aside from Jack, she has been the lightest part of his life since the first time they passed each other on the elevator.

“Yeah, it really does.” She shoots him a soft, slightly sadder smile, and then explains about the paints a little, shows him the difference in the brushes, lets him feel the weight of them, the textures of the bristles.

She starts painting the car—the background is mostly finished—and he’s more than happy to watch, to hear her talk about her process. She asks if she can use his forearm to mix paints, and he turns it over, wrist up, tries not to smile too hard when she puts some dark blue on him, then white, mixing them and then comparing them to the car on the street. He looks down at her, the concentration on her face, the softness in her eyes, and is met with the sudden desire to brush a line of paint over her nose and make her laugh and kiss her breathless.

“Okay, your turn,” she says when she’s about halfway done with the car. She puts her hands on the backs of his arms, pulls him in front of the canvas so she’s between him and the railing. “You���ve been watching me, so you know what to do.” He has been watching her, but not necessarily for her technique, so he’s a little nervous; he dips the brush in the blue paint but hesitates to make a stroke. “I have faith in you, Aaron. Here.”

She wraps her fingers around his hand, guides him toward the canvas, and together they make a wide, curved line, rounding out the bumper. It doesn’t look half bad.

“It gets easier once you understand the relationship between specific paint, specific brushes, and your hands,” she says softly, and she helps him paint another line. “Are you having fun? You look stressed,” she teases, and he makes it a point to relax his face.

“I’m having a lot of fun,” he says, looking down at her; they make eye contact for a long moment, and she leans a little closer, and he leans a little closer, and then he accidentally dabs a blob of blue onto the canvas. He pulls back, grimaces, deflates. “I made a mistake. You can’t erase paint, right?” She laughs softly, takes the brush from his hand.

“No, you can’t erase paint, but as Mr. Ross would say, ‘There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.’” She gets her fingers close to the tip of the brush, makes a few quick movements, then grabs another brush, dips it in green. When she pulls back, there is a little blue flower growing out of a patch of grass where his blob used to be. He exhales, a little amazed.

“If only the mistakes we make in life were that easy to fix,” he says, and she nods.

“Yeah, that would be nice, but a lot of the time we find a way to turn them into beautiful things eventually. Are you willing to give it another shot?” He says yes, and she guides his hand for a while, then just hovers near it, then just instructs him on what to do. It’s dark before their painting is finished, and she carries it inside to dry, then takes him to the kitchen sink to scrub the paint off of his arm.

“Thanks for having me over; I had a really good time,” he murmurs as she dries his clean skin. She looks up, smiles softly, nods her head.

“I had a really good time too. I’m glad you came over; you’re welcome to join me any time.”

He says goodbye, heads home, looks at his stack of work with a groan, and brews a pot of coffee. He’s in for a long night, but he wouldn’t change his evening for anything. Life is much the same for the next few weeks: school and work, Jack’s art class at the studio a couple times a week, painting on the balcony on the weekend, with and without Jack. When Jack joins them for the first time, she pulls out a big box of markers and thick sheets of paper and he draws elaborate scenes while they talk and paint together. When Aaron makes mistakes, she’s never upset, just turns them into perfect little details that end up being his favorite parts of the paintings.

“What ever happened with your ‘Beauty in the Ordinary’ series?” he asks one evening while they’re painting some ocean waves. “Did I cause you enough trouble with the car to give up?” She looks down at the ground, looks a little shy, then shakes her head and smiles.

“No, you didn’t make me want to give up. I’ve been working on it at the studio. You’ll see it when it’s all done, I plan to hang them there.”

“Looking forward to it,” he tells her, and then Jack tugs on her shorts, shows them the picture he drew of the ocean, too.

Later that week, the team takes a case, and on the day he’s set to come home, Jessica drops Jack off at the studio with the plan that Aaron will pick him up when his flight lands. Due to some weather between where the team is and home, they get a little delayed; he doesn’t want to make Jessica head back out that way almost immediately after dropping him off, but he’s not sure who else he could ask to pick Jack up. It’s almost a stupid length of time before it dawns on him to call the studio.

“Life in Color, this is Alaina.”

“Alaina, hi, this is Jack’s dad—” He has his whole spiel prepared, but she cuts him off.

“Oh, sure, hang on a sec, she’s right here. It’s Jack’s dad,” she says, but it sounds further away, like she’s trying to cover the receiver. After a moment, his neighbor picks up.

“Aaron, hi. Jack said you were working.”

“Yeah, I was, and I’m supposed to pick him up after class, but our flight was delayed.” He doesn’t know how to ask for help with Jack; even with all the time they’ve been spending together, she still makes him a little nervous. Luckily, he doesn’t have to figure that part out on his own.

“Hey, that’s no problem. If it’s okay with you, I’ll just take him home with me. I’ll order pizza, we’ll draw, and you can just stop by when you’re home and pick him up.” He breathes a sigh of relief, runs a hand over the back of his head.

“That would be perfect. Thank you—I’ll owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything. Hanging out with your mini me is reward enough; he’s painting something special for you today, won’t let me see it.” That makes him smile, and he feels so warm at the prospect of picking him up from her bright apartment, seeing his artwork, her smile. After a long, draining day like this one, it’s exactly what he needs.

“I’ll have to remain in suspense until tonight, I guess. Can you let him know I said hi? And thank you, I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Of course. We’ll see you then.”

It’s late, after nine, by the time he makes it home. He doesn’t even take his bags inside, just drops them outside his door and knocks softly on hers. She answers with a smile, ushers him in, asks him if he’d like a drink and gets them each a beer.

Jack is in her room, asleep, so they have a little time to chat; she asks about his flight, his case, and he asks about the studio, and she gets a little shy when it comes to that topic, clears her throat.

“Um. I have Jack’s secret project, if you want to see it. He said I could show you.” He’s not sure why that would make her nervous—at least, until he sees it.

The background is all watercolors, a gradient of rainbow colors starting with pink at the top and ending with a soft purple at the bottom. Over that, in black marker, he’s drawn the three of them, with a big heart around them.

“Tonight’s theme was the thing that makes you the happiest, and he said he’s the happiest when the three of us are on the balcony together. It was… really, really sweet.” She looks up at him, brushes a hand over the crown of her head. “If I’m being honest, that’s when I’m the happiest, too.” He takes the picture from her hands, runs his fingers over it, and smiles, feeling a warm ache in his chest—not like before, not like losing someone he’s never really met, but like finding something he never really planned on.

“That’s when I’m the happiest, too,” he agrees, and when he looks up, she looks determined, like she does when trying to find just the right shade of paint. She takes Jack’s picture out of his hand, sets it on the counter, and then pulls him down by the lapels of his suit, kisses him long and slow. His hands move to her waist, keeping her close, and eventually she pauses for breath, looks at him again, and then wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him some more.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first time I saw you—tall and dark and serious, striding out of the elevator. So intriguing, mysterious,” she breathes when they separate again. “I wanted to know everything about you.”

“Are you kidding?” he asks, huffing a laugh. “I’m boring, but you are so vibrant, so full of life; I felt like you were everything I wasn’t, and I wanted to know you so badly.”

“You know me now; would you like to keep getting to know me?” It’s one of the easiest questions he’s ever been asked; he nods, and she beams, and he lifts her into his arms and carries her to the couch, drapes himself over her while she leans back against the cushions, pulling him closer.

They make out like neither of them have a care in the world—god, how long has it been since he’s made out with someone?—her fingers scraping through his hair, his hands on her bare waist when her shirt rides up, and she’s in the process of pushing his jacket off his shoulders when they hear a sound from the other room that startles them apart. Jack.

“I’ll go check on him,” Aaron says, and when he goes into her room Jack is still snuggled up on her bed sound asleep. It looks like some canvases fell over, though, and he stoops to pick them up, then spots the car they painted together. He turns and she’s right behind him, skids to a stop. “I thought you said these were at the studio?”

“They were,” she says, and she looks nervous again. “But I changed my mind about hanging them there. They felt too personal.” He runs his hand over the car and sees where she’s coming from; this one feels personal to him, too.

“Can I see the rest?” he asks. “Only if you want to show me them.”

“You’re the only one I want to show them to,” she says with a soft smile, and she grabs a few more canvases, carries them into the light of the living room. “Beauty in the ordinary, remember.” He remembers, could never forget.

She turns one over, and it’s a kitchen sink, and in the kitchen sink is an orange plate with a fork resting on it—like the plate she’d given him with the pasta on it. She turns one over and it’s a man’s hand, holding a paintbrush, with pale blue paint on his forearm. The next one is a little herb garden on a balcony; the next one is a view from above, of a sandy haired boy with markers all around him. The last one is an open elevator—ripe with possibilities.

When he looks up at her, she’s got tears in her eyes, and one slips down her cheek.

“So, I think I’ve found my good times.” She smiles through her tears, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses the salt from her lips. “I love you,” she says when he pulls back to wipe her face with his sleeve, and he kisses her softly, again and again, and tells her he loves her, too. The next weekend, Jack is at Jessica’s for a sleepover, and Aaron has been enlisted to help with an art project. He walks next door, knocks lightly, and enters the living room; he is met with a very deep, passionate kiss and a smile, and instructions to help move the furniture out of the way.

“I’m really curious what kind of art requires this much floor space,” he says, shoving her couch back against the wall, and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, a move he has been unable to resist since she did it the first time they had sex. She knows it’s a weakness, exploits it, and he loves every minute of it.

“You’ll see, but I promise you’re going to like it.” When they clear the floor, she grabs a large, rolled-up fabric canvas and lays it out in the middle of the room, then drops three bottles of paint—one is yellow (jasmine), one is orange (peach), and one is kind of pink (coral? He’s still not sure.)—onto it. “You can obviously say no if you want, but I wanted something over my bed with the sunset colors, and I found this…” She steps closer to him, runs her hands down his chest, guides him down for a kiss so delicious he loses his train of thought. “It’s sex art; we put the paint on the canvas, and on ourselves, and… you know, go at it. What do you think?”

He thinks he really, really loves art now, even more than he thought possible.

“So we have paint-covered sex and then you just hang it on the wall? Like regular art?”

“Yep, I got the supplies I’ll need to hang it; letting it dry will probably take the longest. I figured we could shower while it’s drying, maybe go for round two, if you’re up for it.” She moves her hand to his waist, slips it inside his shorts, and he pulls her closer to his body. “Are you up for it, Aaron?”

That is an understatement.

Undressing happens extremely fast, because this is really sexy and they’re kind of in a phase where they can’t keep their hands off of each other anyway. She pulls her hair up onto the top of her head to try to minimize the amount of paint in it, and then she pours paint on the canvas, turns around and drizzles some on his back and tells him to lay down.

“I think we should probably change positions often so we get a lot of motion on the canvas; I apologize to your old knees in advance,” she teases, but she soothes the sting of her words by pouring paint on herself and then laying between his legs and licking at his dick. “Do some stuff with your hands; I want to see those big handprints on my wall,” she murmurs, and he groans, puts his palms down in the paint and drags them through it.

She leans up a little, sliding her knees through some yellow paint, sucks him fully, deeply into her mouth for couple of minutes, and then stretches forward and puts an orange hand right in the middle of his chest; the look in her eyes is playful, and he reaches out with one finger, hooks it under her chin, and guides her off and up so they can kiss.

“Your turn,” he says with a smirk, and then he gets her onto her back and ducks between her legs, hopes she doesn’t grab for his hair like she usually does. He rubs his pointed tongue over her clit, waits for the mmm it always elicits, and looks up at her, covers each of her breasts with a paint-covered palm and squeezes. “Leave handprints for me,” he leans up and reminds her, kissing her stomach, and she plants her hands, then presses up and grabs his shoulder, smearing pink down his back. “Oh, you wanted more of that?”

“Don’t tease me, the paint will dry,” she whines, and he spreads her thighs wider with his elbows and licks her pussy quickly, until she’s squirming against the canvas and panting for more. “Come here, come here.”

He’s not ready for that, though, paint or not, wants her to come from this; he takes his hands off of her, dips them in the paint again and presses down, then puts his hands under her ass and brings her closer so he can fuck her with his tongue, quick and deep and slick.

“Aaron, Aaron, god.” She slides her hands down his arms, over his neck, digs her nails in when she comes moaning like music.

While she catches her breath, so gorgeous, she sticks her arms out like she’s making a snow angel, and he catches her while she’s off guard and turns her onto her stomach, puts his hands on the smears of paint he’s already left on her ass, and slides inside.

“Oh my god; I was trying to impress you with this sexy art project, but you’re rocking my world.” She’s breathless, pressing back into his thrusts and painting with her entire body. God, he loves her mind.

“You know I always take your projects very seriously,” he says, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, and she groans, laughs.

“Yes you do. From the side? Let’s lay diagonally.” They shift, and he hooks his chin over her shoulder, kisses her neck and huffs hot against her hair. “Hmm, love it like this,” she sighs, and she reaches back to press her hand to his hip, holding him while he moves inside her. “I love you.”

“Love you. I want you to finish on top of me,” he instructs with a wet kiss to her throat, and she nods against his lips.

“Yeah, next; I’m getting close.” A few more strokes and she gets up onto her knees, lets him lay back, propped up on his arms, and climbs on top of him; she kisses him slow and dirty and then runs her hands over him, sits back on his dick and glides up and down. “You wanna come like this too? I owe you a little world rocking,” she says with a flick of her tongue over his bottom lip, and he nods, squeezes her thigh.

“It’s the least you can do after making me move all the heavy furniture.” She rolls her eyes but kisses his chin, down his throat, and bounces harder on him, all delicious eye contact and moans. “Mmm. Just like that, baby, come for me.”

“Fuck. I will, I will.” She wraps a hand around the back of his neck, kisses him kind of rough and with lots of tongue, and then tips her head back and climaxes, clenches, wrings his orgasm out of him so quickly it’s almost jarring. “Oh, yes Aaron. So good,” she mumbles, and then he lays back, out of breath, and she slides out of his lap and lays beside him, out of breath too.

After a moment, she looks over at him, smiles, and swipes a pink fingertip over his cheek.

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever done with anyone. I’m glad I got to do it with you.” He rolls on top of her, presses a kiss to her nose, and nods.

“Me too. You know,” he adds after a moment, “my bedroom could use some artwork, too.” She grins, wraps her arms around him and squeezes tight.

“You’re right; I think we should do yours in blue: liberty, that’s dark blue; periwinkle, that’s light blue; maybe steel gray, too.”

“You’re the expert. I’m just your paintbrush.” Her hands smooth up his back, and contentment washes over him like a warm breeze.

“Hmm. I like the sound of that. Want to get cleaned up?”

Cleaning up is almost as fun as making the mess, because they’re well and truly covered, and when the canvas dries, the sunset colors are almost as beautiful as the ones she used the first time he ever saw her paint. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc

[chaotic-kitty]

So because I enjoy my own suffering apparently, I’ve decided to see how many characters nix hydra as a whole has come up with from both fictif & the arcana (it obviously is an approximation, I tried to find every main character/side character I could. Though I’m definitely sure I missed a few)

Fictif + The Arcana Total Characters:

Female- 50 Male- 53 Non-binary- 8

And of those characters these are the Love Interests:

Female- 10 Male- 20 Non-binary- 3

Technically, there is 12 female love interests (Nahara & Adra) BUT!! Nahara you could only romance in one story & Adra you couldn’t actually romance at all.

(Edit: that’s also not including the major arcana characters)

And going through the character designs & profiles for these characters, while it seems diverse, it also feels like they stick heavily to stereotypes.

For one, all of their characters seems to be weirdly tall. Out of the females the shortest are Volta & Portia, with Portia standing at roughly 5’0 (Volta I’m not quite sure, but I’d say even shorter than that) the majority of the other women are 5’7 and taller. And I know that that isn’t that tall but still. Then the male characters, Felix from what I can find is the shortest standing at 5’6 and Muriel is the tallest at 6’10, all of the other men fall at roughly around the 6’0 mark. And our lovely enby characters fall more on the taller side from what I can find.

As for body types, there isn’t much diversity there either, especially for the LIs. Most of the woman are thinner, with a more hourglass shape and average-bigger breasts. The men are pretty much tall, buff/muscular and really chiseled in their appearances. The non-binary characters seems a little more relaxed to a degree in their physical appearances and seems to be covered up a lot compared to the other characters. (Though they tend to follow the stereotype bodies as well. Like the amab characters having more “masculine features” ect.)

While the characters have a wide range of skin tones,ethnicities, ect. I’ve seen people talk about how a lot of poc characters have features that they wouldn’t necessarily have (e.g. eye colour) and how that they don’t necessarily properly represent POC individuals and going through all of the characters…..all of these characters all seem to be very similar in appearance as well.

So with all of this in mind, it really makes me further doubt nix hydra when it comes to their arguments about being inclusive/diverse and a being all for lgbt+ and women empowerment ect. The way I see it, they use those arguments as nothing but an advertising tool to lure in players who are being promised proper representation, just to constantly let those same people down. How are we as a fandom supposed to believe and support them when they constantly queer-bait and give false representation? What makes it worse though, is that nix hydra is a company run by women and they should know better than anyone what it’s like to grow up with no good representation, what it feels like to constantly have characters that are the stereotype and nothing close to the real thing. And then going as far as to blame us for not showing enough interest? We do show interest! Everyday on Tumblr, Instagram I see people expressing their love for these beautiful female and non-binary characters saying how much they would love stories with them. The beautiful artwork and stories they make for them (…coz you won’t). If you actually took a minute to look past what you want to see, you would find a community full of beautiful people wanting these stories & characters.

Nix Hydra ( @fictifgames) ,you had a great opportunity to break the mould and to be a company/storyteller to give actual proper representation. But time after time you have failed in that. I get that making these stories takes time and effort and I applaud every single writer/artist/developer ect for their work but come on! You need to stop targeting the lgbt community, women & poc individuals if you’re only gonna use us. We are not a marketing tool for you to exploit!! Especially as so many of your fans are younger people who are figuring out their identity, what kind of message are you sending them? And covering all this up with posts about women empowerment and whatnot isn’t gonna change anything. You guys need to learn that it’s okay to try different things! Make smaller characters! Make bigger & curvy characters! Make male characters with realistic body types! Make wlw stories! Give us the representation we deserve and you’ve been promising! It’s really not that hard. I’m sure there are plenty of good people who can give you pointers if you’re struggling to write certain characters properly. Stop buying into outdated stereotypes and concepts! Stop writing women the way we’ve wanted people to stop writing us for decades! You may think it’s nothing but it is harmful especially when we still live in a world we’re we don’t get proper, realistic characters.

Edit: And furthermore, while it’s upsetting not getting proper lgbt, women & poc representation, you’re not necessarily giving your male audience much representation either. You’re writing your male characters through your own fantasies and ideals and what society as a whole has deemed to be the male standard by making them buff and tall and “classically handsome”. That’s not proper representation either.

But anyways, rant over! Sorry for any mistakes ect.

[zuko-always-lies]

Unpopular Opinion: Zuko’s treatment of Mai is deeply toxic.

Mai is a character who is often maligned in the fandom, with it even occasionally being claimed that she was “abusive” toward Zuko. Any objective analysis of Mai’s behavior in her relationship with Zuko will instead find that she was, in fact, a shockingly good romantic partner, generally treating Zuko very well and being loyal to him far beyond reasonable expectation.  Claims that Mai behaved toxically toward Zuko seem to be instead founded in misogynistic expectations that women be perfect caretakers for the men in their lives.

That is not to say that the Zuko-Mai relationship isn’t still deeply toxic. However, its toxicity stems from the manner which Zuko badly mistreats Mai, often in ways which devalue her. Much more under the cut.

Our story begins in the first half of Book 3.  The vast majority of episodes there don’t show anything particularly toxic going on in the relationship. The most you can say is that they suggest that Zuko tends to dump his problems on others and doesn’t have best understanding of his girlfriend.

However, inevitably we must turn to “The Beach,” the episode which, by far, gets the most into the Zuko-Mai relationship. To say that Zuko doesn’t behave well toward Mai in this episode would be an understatement. I don’t speak here of Zuko’s unsuccessful attempts to please Mai early in the episode, but instead how badly he starts treating her beginning at the party:

Ruon Jian: Hey, first ones here, huh? Zuko: (cut to shot of Zuko and Mai walking side by side) Pft. He thinks he's so great. (to Mai) Well, what do you think of him? (they stop walking) Mai: I don't have any opinion about him. I hardly know him. Zuko: You like him, don't you? (Mai sighs and walks away, as Zuko looks angrily in the direction of Ruon Jian. The camera zooms in on Ruon Jian)

And

(Cut to shot of Ruon Jian leaning over Mai. Zuko rushes toward them angrily and pushes Ruon Jian away from her. Cut to shot of Ruon Jian straightening his hair.) Ruon Jian: Whoa. What are you doing? Zuko: (close-up shot of Zuko, angry) Stop talking to my girlfriend! Ruon Jian: (Ruon Jian approaches Zuko) Relax, it's just a party. (Zuko pushes Ruon Jian hard, sending him flying across the room, breaking a giant vase.) Mai: (Mai stands up and grabs Zuko's shoulder. He turns towards her.) Zuko, what is wrong with you?! Zuko: What's wrong with me?! Mai: (angrily) Your temper's out of control. You blow up over every little thing. You're so impatient and hot-headed and angry. Zuko: Well, at least I feel something...as opposed to you. You have no passion for anything. (raising his arms is the air) You're just a big "blah". Mai: (turning away from him) It's over, Zuko. We're done.

 And:

(Zuko follows her and the camera pans down to the handprint, left alone on the porch. Cut to wide view of the camera panning down Ember Island Beach. Zuko and Azula are walking side by side toward Mai and Ty Lee. Close shot of Zuko looking toward Mai and then looking away. Close shot of Mai looking angry and a bit sad.) Mai: Hey... (Interrupted) Zuko: (close shot of Zuko) Where's your new boyfriend? (Mai turns away angrily. Zuko comes and sits next to her) Are you cold? (he puts his arm around her, but she slaps it away)

Zuko is acting in a massively controlling fashion toward Mai, motivated by his violent and rage-filled jealously.  She literally can’t talk to a boy without Zuko flying into a jealous rage, trying to separate her from the person she’s talking to, and accusing her of emotional infidelity. In real life, this is considered a warning sign for an abusive relationship(although I don’t think Zuko has crossed the line into abusive yet).

“The Beach” also gives us this:

Mai: Oh, well, I'm sorry I can't be as high-strung and crazy as the rest of you. (Cut to over-head shot of the four teens. Zuko walks closer to the fire and Mai.) Zuko: I'm sorry, too. I wish you would be high-strung and crazy for once, (Close shot of Mai looking away and Zuko standing over her) instead of keeping all your feelings bottled up inside. She just called your aura dingy. Are you gonna take that?

Zuko tries to provoke Mai into having a fight with her best friend Ty Lee just so he can watch her express strong emotions.  Zuko very much wants to Mai to be and act like someone she’s not, which has its own issues.

Overall, Zuko treats Mai quite poorly in “The Beach.” The episode ends with this:

Mai: I know one thing I care about... (Cut to shot of Mai smiling at Zuko) I care about you. (Mai and Zuko kiss. Azula claps, causing them to separate and turn toward Azula. The camera pans left to include her.)

Mai forgives Zuko and accepts him back without him acknowledging his behavior was wrong, apologizing for it, or giving her any guarantee that he will treat her better in the future. That’s unfortunate, as Zuko soon ends up treating her far, far worse than he ever did in this episode.

Zuko’s disregard for Mai cumulates with the manner he commits treason on the Day of Black Sun. Let us start our understanding of what he did wrong from the beginning. Breaking up with Mai via a letter which didn’t give her a real explanation was a real asshole move, but it’s not at the core of what he did wrong.  For that, we need to turn to this conversation from “The Headband”:

Zuko: Can't you see we're busy? (He and Mai resume their "business".) Azula: (not to be put off) Oh, Mai... Ty Lee needs your help untangling her braid. Mai: (complaisantly) Sounds pretty serious. (She gets up and leaves. Walking past Azula, towards the camera, she shoots the princess a quick, poisonous glance behind her back.) Azula: So...I hear you've been to visit your Uncle Fatso in the prison tower. Zuko: (standing, incensed) That guard told you. Azula: (smugly) No, you did. Just now. Zuko: (sitting back down) Okay, you caught me. What is it that you want, Azula? Azula: (solicitiously) Actually, nothing. Believe it or not, I'm looking out for you. If people find out you've been to see Uncle, they'll think you're plotting with him. Just be careful, dum-dum.

Zuko has proven his loyalty to the Fire Nation beyond doubt, yet Azula is still very worried that him spending time with Iroh will get him accused of treason, because having a close association with traitors puts oneself under almost automatic suspicion of treason.

“Day of Black Sun, Part II”:

Zuko: First of all, in Ba Sing Se, it was Azula who took down the Avatar, not me. Fire Lord Ozai: Why would she lie to me about that? Zuko: Because the Avatar is not dead. He survived. Fire Lord Ozai: (alarmed) What?!

Zuko deliberately throws Azula under the bus, hurting her and reducing her status with Ozai as much possible while effectively accusing her of deliberately committing treason. He also deliberately pisses off Ozai as much as possible.

So where does this leave us? Mai is Zuko’s known girlfriend and extremely close associate. Automatically, the suspicion of knowing of Zuko’s treason ahead of time or being involved falls upon her. She’s in grave risk of being imprisoned, tortured, or executed, especially since Ozai seems not the type to be strictly concerned with ensuring those he punishes are guilty beyond reasonable doubt. The Fire Nation seems like a society which might have collective punishment(as historical East Asian societies, Nazi Germany, and the Stalinist Soviet Union did), and Mai might be under risk from that direction.  Finally, Ozai might hurt her simply as way of retaliating against Zuko.

Normally Azula would almost certainly be able to protect her friend, even under these trying circumstances, given Azula’s prestige and accomplishments.  However, Zuko has deliberately undermined Azula as much as possible and effectively accused her of committing treason herself, dramatically reducing the probability that she will be able to protect Mai.  In fact, Mai stands risk of being accused of being involved in Azula’s effort to “conceal the fact that the Avatar survived,” given Mai’s close association with Azula and her close involvement in the events where the Avatar “died.” She’s thus under danger from two different directions.

“But Zuko had to betray his father and become good through aiding Team Avatar.” Yes, it’s a good thing he did so. But Zuko had other options than the course he adopted. He could have avoided confronting Ozai at all and instead focused on rescuing Iroh(interesting AU idea right here).  He could have confronted Ozai but not thrown Azula under the bus, and that alone would have vastly reduced the risk to Mai(and also made Zuko out to be a better person, because deliberately throwing your younger sister under the bus and then abandoning her to the mercy of your abusive father is not a good look).  Zuko could have killed Ozai right then and there during the eclipse.  He even could have tried to lead Team Avatar to the bunker and tried to end the war right then and there.

“Zuko didn’t understand that he was placing Mai in danger.” Quite possible, but Zuko being so self-centered that he is unable of understanding that his actions can have negative effects on other people is a mark against him, not for him.

Now we turn to the Zuko’s behavior toward Mai in the rest of the third season.  Let us start with “The Boiling Rock, Part 1”:

Sokka: (emphatically) I think your Uncle would be proud of you. Leaving your home to come help us, that's hard. Zuko: It wasn't that hard. Sokka: (Cut to a side view of the basket) Really? You didn't leave behind anyone you cared about? Zuko: Well I did have a girlfriend. Mai. Sokka: (He goes closer to Zuko with a surprised look on his face) That gloomy girl who sighs a lot? Zuko: (Cut back to show Zuko grinning goofily) Yeah. (his face turns serious) Everyone in the Fire Nation thinks I'm a traitor. I couldn't drag her into it. Sokka: (Cut back to Sokka who leans back on the basket) My first girlfriend turned into the Moon. Zuko: (looks up) That's rough buddy

There are two things to unpack here. First, Zuko claims he “couldn’t drag her into it,” yet he already did, as I’ve illustrated above. Second, Zuko seems to expect that Mai would have followed him into treason if he asked her, that she would be willing to betray her nation, ideology, family, and friends just for the sake of her love for him. That’s an insane and pretty toxic expectation for Zuko to have for her relationship with him, especially since he wouldn’t do the same for her.

We also get more confirmation that Zuko doesn’t care at all about Ty Lee or Azula.

I don’t have a lot to say about the Zuko-Mai conversation during Boiling Rock, Part 2. The only things I would like to note are that Zuko is not very sorry for what he did, not very empathetic toward Mai’s pain, and doesn’t give Mai a real apology for his actions.

Of course, Mai proceeds to save Zuko’s life through committing treason in front of dozens of witnesses at Boiling Rock, something which places her own life in serous jeopardy. How does Zuko react to this?

Zuko: (Cut to a shocked Zuko) It's Mai. Azula: (Cut to a furious Azula) What is she doing?! (Cut to the backs of Azula and Ty Lee as Ty Lee shrugs and makes a "I don't know" noise. Cut to the gondola as it reaches the outer part of the crater. Cut to the inside of the entrance tower as the door opens and Suki rushes out followed by Sokka, Zuko, Hakoda and Chit Sang. Hakoda turns towards Chit Sang and points to the inside of the gondola. Chit Sang proceeds to throw the warden back in.) Hakoda: (Cut to the back of Hakoda's head looking at the warden lying on the floor) Sorry Warden, your record is officially broken. (Hakoda walks off screen while the warden continues to struggle on the floor. Cut to a front shot of the group as they run up a rocky incline.) Suki: Well, we made it out. Now what? Sokka: (Sokka stops and looks back at Zuko who pauses in his tracks, thinking) Zuko, what are you doing? Zuko: My sister was on that island. Sokka: Yeah and she's probably right behind us. So let's not stop. Zuko: What I mean is she must have come here somehow. (He runs to the edge of the rocks and looks down) There. (Cut to an area looking up at the edge of the cliff) That's our way out of here. (Camera pans down to reveal a Fire Nation zeppelin docked at the shore.

Zuko says Mai’s name once and then abandons her (to die?) with zero hesitation.  This is probably objectively the correct decision. It would probably be extremely difficult and dangerous if not outright impossible to save Mai.  The prison-break crew do have access to an airship, but it’s difficult to fly an airship over the lake’s thermals.

Yet that’s not my point. Zuko abandons Mai with zero hesitation, with zero anguish, with zero angst. He doesn’t even to seem consider the possibility that he should save her.  Something tells me if Iroh had just saved Zuko’s life under identical circumstances and then was in imminent risk of harm, Zuko would act very differently, that Sokka, Suki, and Hakoda would have to drag him off that island.

Zuko’s complete disregard for Mai continues for the rest the series. Remember this exchange from “The Cave of Two Lovers”?

Zuko: (losing his patience) We're not taking any more chances with these plants! We need to get help. Iroh: But where are we going to go? We're enemies of the Earth Kingdom, and fugitives from the Fire Nation. Zuko: (musingly) If the Earth Kingdom, discovers us, they'll have us killed. Iroh: But if the Fire Nation discovers us, we'll be turned over to Azula.

Zuko considers being captured by Azula a worse fate than death!

But do we see Zuko worry once about Mai’s fate? Do we see angst about what might have happened to her? Do we see him make any effort to even discover her fate, much less rescue her?

No. In fact, Zuko launches a sophisticated operation to infiltrate a Fire Nation information center so that he can gain intelligence in order to help Katara murder someone so that she’ll like him, but he doesn’t even consider doing the same to find out about Mai’s fate so that he could potentially rescue her. Zuko doesn’t even mention Mai once after Boiling Rock until the very end of the series finale, even though she sacrificed herself to save him. Remember this exchange(“Sozin’s Comet, Part 3”):

Zuko: Sorry, but you're not going to become Fire Lord today. (jumps off Appa) I am. Azula: (laughs) You're hilarious. Katara: (standing beside Zuko) And you're going down. (The fire sage motions to crown Azula, but she raises her hand, signalling him to stop.) Azula: Wait. You want to be Fire Lord Fine. Let's settle this. Just you and me, brother. The showdown that was always meant to be. Agni Kai! Zuko: You're on. (Katara turns to Zuko, surprised. Cut to a close up of Azula's lips as the curls into a smile. Cut back to Katara and Zuko.) Katara: What are you doing? She's playing you. She knows she can't take us both so she is trying to separate us. Zuko: I know. But I can take her this time. Katara: But even you admitted to your Uncle that you would need help facing Azula. Zuko: There's something off about her, I can't explain it but she's slipping. And this way, no one else has to get hurt. (Fade to a shot of the courtyard from the side. The camera pans from Zuko kneeling on the right end to Azula kneeling on the left end. Cut to a shot of Zuko rising and turning around, then cut to a shot of Azula rising. Each can be seen behind the other. Cut to a shot of Azula from the front turning and removing the Fire Lord robes.) Azula: I'm sorry it has to end this way, brother. Zuko: (in his stance) No, you're not.

Notice something? Zuko doesn’t demand to know what happened to Mai! It’s almost like he forgot she existed!

Now we turn to the final infamous exchange(“Sozin’s Comet, Part 4”):

Mai:(off screen) You need some help with that? (He looks up surprised and moves aside to reveal Mai leaning against the doorway. Cut to a close up of Mai as she walks towards Zuko.) Zuko: (Cut to a delighted Zuko) Mai! (Walks off screen) You're ok. (Cut to an area behind Mai's back as Zuko opens his arms out in a hug) They let you out of prison? (Mai walks behind Zuko and lifts up his empty robe sleeve.) Mai: My uncle (Zuko puts his arms through the sleeve) pulled some strings, (she proceeds to fasten his robe) and it doesn't hurt when the new Fire Lord is your boyfriend. (She walks in front of Zuko and places a hand on his chest) Zuko: So does this mean you don't hate me anymore? Mai: (she blushes) I think it means... (Cut to a close up of the couple) I actually (places a hand on Zuko's cheek) kind of like you. (They lean in for a kiss and part a fewseconds later, looking into each other's eyes happily) But don't ever (She jabs a finger into Zuko's shoulder and Zuko's eye traces the movement of her finger) break up (She lifts her finger into the air and Zuko's eyes still follows it) with me again. (She jabs her finger into Zuko's shoulder one last time and Zuko smiles goofily. They embrace and the camera zooms out slowly.

Zuko seems surprised to learn that Mai is OK, almost like he made no effort to find out her fate once he took charge of the Fire Nation. And indeed, his first acts as leader of the Fire Nation were not to find out what happened to her or, if he actually knew, to get her released from prison.  Mai only got released from prison when her uncle and his connections got sufficiently confident that Zuko had been completely accepted as the new leader to release a massive traitor completely on their own initiative.  This was quite possibly weeks after Azula-Zuko Agni Kai, yet he made no apparent effort to get her released. It’s almost like Zuko completely forgot about Mai, even though she sacrificed herself to save him.

And, of course, Zuko doesn’t accept responsibility for any of the awful ways he treated Mai, much less apologize to her or offer any guarantee he will behave better in the future. Mai still forgives him anyways, just like she did in “The Beach,” only for Zuko to continue to screw her over. There is something deeply depressing here, as there’s every reason to believe that Zuko will screw over Mai over, devalue her, and disregard her well-being, desires, and interests again the moment it’s convenient for him to do so. He certainly has not recognized that his toxic behavior here is something he needs to stop doing. Ironically, the comics get this right by having Zuko try to use his power as Firelord to order Mai to stay his girlfriend.

Ultimately, Zuko loves Mai and cares about her deeply, yet he still treats her as a tool and acts like she exists to serve him. It reminds me how show! canon Ozai genuinely loved show! canon Ursa, but still used her as a tool and threw her away.  Honestly, I doubt 16-year-old Zuko is really ready for any romantic relationship at all, given his often toxic behavior, his trauma, and the incredibly stressful position he’s placed in at the end of the series.

[trashyslashers]

Can I please ask for a slasher match up? 😇

I'm a female, using she/her pronouns and am interested in both, women and men.

I've got really pale skin (which I love), white blonde shoulder-length hair with the tips dyed dark purple on one side and dark green on the other, a few ear piercings, I'm somewhat curvy (which I'm not insecure about), around 5'5 high and I'm always wearing only black clothing with a gothic/punk/metal/alternative style.

My own love language is words of affirmation and acts of service and from others it's physical touch and quality time.

Meeting new people, being in crowded places and in the center of attention make me really anxious and uncomfortable. Although it's easier if I can rely and concentrate on someone really close to me.

I hate the summer, but love autumn and it's weather, aesthetic and flavours! My ideal day would entirely spend with a loved one ; cozy up inside, watch a movie, cook something together, maybe even bake, take a walk on a typical autumn day, cuddling a lot, listening to music and of course, laughing and enoying the time with them. Otherwise, I would love to do typical autumn activities with them!

I have deep emotions, but they tend to overwhelm me and I struggle with communicating and procressing them alone, which leads me to relying on others (annoying them with it) but also understanding others and the world around me on a deeper level. I believe that's also why I'm so accepting, supporting and open-minded.

I love to help others, I tend to always put their well-being before my own and try anything possible to make it easier for them and take some weight off their shoulders, to lighten up someone's mind and make their worries less overwhelming. To put it simply, I hate to see others suffering and will do anything to help them.

I'm the happiest when the people I love are happy, when someone truly listens to me, my thoughts and feelings.

I'm a very loving, warm and passionate person. I care about the people who're close to me and I will go to great length to help them. Furthermore, I'm ultimately loyal and would never betray or let people I love down!

I hate when people believe they can define or generalize what's normal or beautiful, boring or annoying, typical or effective. All these are personal views and usually I find beauty where others don't, enjoy unusualness and uniqueness and despise mainstream and stereotypical things. Being like everyone else or fitting into some kind of box annoys me so much!

The nightsky inspires and fascinates me, just as much as rain calms me down and fills me with serenity, passion and happiness. Though, my biggest passion is and always be music and I could never live a single day without it, it's like the air to breathe. I especially love (symphonic-,heavy-) metal!

I'm extremely shy, insecure and self-doubting, always believe that I'm annoying those around me. That's why I tend to distance myself and don't speak/act at all, in fear of embrassing myself even more. It helps if there's someone who helps, grounds and understands me in these times! With the right person, I can actually be quite sarcastic. Additionally, I'm terrible clumsy, always bumping against something, falling down or dropping something.

I firmly believe in the power of honesty and wish to be respected and accepted as much as I do show others.

My senses are pretty strong and my surroundings, especially combinated with my social anxiety, sometimes lead me to anxiety and panic attacks, which I obliviously hate and am ashamed of. I struggle to get out of them on my own, but to someone really close to me it's actually not so hard.

I really love watching movies and TV shows. To be honest, I prefer living in fictional worlds and daydreams over the real world. I'm especially enthusiastic about horror and fantasy. About fandoms I love, I could ramble on and on about forever. I'm literally incapable of stopping to talk and ramble, if someone wouldn't stop me, I would probably never shut up (at least as long as I'm really familiar with them, otherwise I'm pretty silent and reserved)

I'm living vegan and I'm really passionate about it! I wish to never ever harm an animal and to treat them with all the love my heart is capable of! If I could, I would help and adopt every single animal and care for them lovingly.

I'm quite clingy and like to be surrounded by everything that's even remotely that of someone who's close to me. If I could, I would spend every minute with them and feel as (physicially and emotionally) close to them as possible.

Here are some random things I love : animals (especially cats!), being physically close to people I love, the smell of a freshly baked cake, pale skin, moving in-tune with someone, people talking with passion and love, inside jokes, fuggy hillsides and landscapes, flowers growing in the cracks of pavements, long hugs, music loud enough to silence everything else, oddities, the purring of cats, thunderstorms, sharing earphones, movie nights, stepping into shallow puddles, open windows at night, freckles, perfectly worn-in combat boots, typical autumn and winter days, looking at the stars, seeing someone else's smile and joy, wavy hair, leather jackets, to feel truly calm and discovering similarities

I'm longing for someone to fall in love with me, accepting and supporting me just as I'm. I'm not easy to get along with and I'm used to feel like a outcast and weirdo, I believe that putting up with me is quite a burden, which I also don't wish to put upon someone. I don't need a lot of people around me, just one fully by my side is more than enough!

Thank you so much! 😊

Anon, I think you'd go well with...

Jason Voorhees!

Your ability to see beauty where others don't, coupled with your empathetic nature and tendency to put others before yourself is what drew Jason to you. The way you so actively seek to make sure those around you and those you care about do not suffer or feel alone is something Jason truly admires as he never thought he'd see such a thing from someone, given how such a person was absent in his life, apart from his mother.

Feeling as if one is an outcast is not something foreign to Jason. He knows - more than most - what it feels like to be fully rejected from society and other people as a whole. Regardless of the reason, it's not a pleasant feeling, and it's one that he can empathize with. In a way, he feels even more comfortable around you once learning that you, to a degree, know how it feels as well.

Words of affirmation are something he experienced very little of in his life time - and once again, what he did receive were only from his mother. The way you so readily tell him how much you care about, cherish, and value him and do so with what he can tell is genuine feeling behind your words stirs something in him he's never felt before.

And he's more than happy to indulge you in what makes you feel loved; he's very tall and very broad which makes it incredibly easy for him to hug, hold and cuddle you. When not out patrolling the campgrounds as he often does, nearly every moment is spent by your side.

Speaking of the campgrounds, it seems you enjoy many nature based things, or at least some. The campgrounds, as well as the cabin, are secluded and isolated, and so apart from the occasional gaggle of daredevils, trespassers, and nosey teenagers, it's just the two of you and the local wildlife. There are very rarely any interruptions in the serenity of the area apart from occasions during the summertime, and Jason wishes for you to be able to find peace in that. The view of thunderstorms over the lake is an incredible sight! Just please, don't get too close to the water.

You're vegan? No problem - although Jason no longer eats, there's plenty of space for at least a garden. Though you'll most likely need and want more than what you can grow there, he'll do what he can do keep you happy. Animals are something the two of you share a mutual respect and care for.

If you need someone to ground you in times of anxiety, Jason is your rock. Although to absolutely everyone else it's the opposite, Jason is able to be a source of comfort for you. He's surprisingly gentle when he wants to be, and he's quick to learn what helps you and what doesn't during your panic attacks, and is very attentive and patient when it comes to you. There's no need to feel pressured to speak when you're with him, but he loves it when you do, especially when you're rambling about what you're passionate about. It could never annoy him, even if he has no clue what you're talking about, and it warms his necrotic heart that you're sharing your passions with him.

Your sarcasm that comes about with your growing comfort is something he finds cute, and Jason definitely frets over you on your more clumsy days. He takes care to make sure your shared cabin (or your personal one, if you so prefer) is safe and that you won't get seriously injured on any sort of misplaced sharp object, or broken floorboard.

He appreciates the loyalty you display, and it's not because he has some sort of mistrust in you - rather, because it's unfortunately a very deep rooted insecurity in him that one day you'll wake up and you, too, will see him as everyone else saw him when he was alive, and how everyone sees him now. The regular reassurance you give him helps quell this on some of his bad days, and while it doesn't do so entirely, he puts his trust in your words.

Honestly, what more can I say? Jason would adore you. You and everything about you would make him feel safe and loved, and he'd strive to make sure you felt the same, with him.

[jaskicr]

let’s talk about fandom racism

i have seen so many people say that they don’t like yennefer, or they don’t vibe with her, or she isn’t compelling, or she is irrelevant to their fics/art/creations...

yes. everyone is allowed to like and dislike characters. everyone is allowed to have their preferences. and i’m not disputing that. but when people brush yennefer off, justifying it some of the reasons above or other reasons they come up with, i question whether there’s something rather dodgy behind this, especially when those very same people really, really stan white male characters (geralt, jaskier, the wolves etc)

some people are going to come at me, ‘why are you making everything about race??!??’ or accuse me of calling them racist, when they aren’t racist, how dare i say stuff like that. but it’s interesting, isn’t it? the way fans justify their dislike or their dismissal of female characters of colour with excuses like they’re not ‘compelling’ or they’re ‘problematic’ - when their fave white dudes are arguably just as bland and problematic, but those fans continue stanning their faves anyway.

it’s important, i think, for many fans to take a step back and evaluate their preferences. ‘fandom is for fun,’ you might say. ‘why do i need a reason to like a certain character? can’t i just like them because i do!’

you can! what i want people to evaluate, though, is how their preferences have been shaped by unconscious bias. unconscious bias is created as people grow up, shaped by people around them, shaped by the structure of society - and in society, white-dominated ones in particular, racism is embedded deep within, and it influences the way many people perceive and treat media, the way they interact within fandoms.

that is what i want people to examine and evaluate. you might reject it - because no one wants to be told that they’re racist, that they have unconscious prejudices that they don’t even notice. everyone wants to think that they’re open-minded, that they’re inclusive, that they are completely accepting of every minority group ever - when in fact, the way they’ve been brought up, the way society has influenced them, has created biases within them that shapes their preferences and perception.

i’m not saying people are being intentionally malicious and sidelining characters of colour like yennefer on purpose. i’m saying that there are unconscious prejudices that influence their views in a way that they likely aren’t aware of, leading to them dismissing characters of colour, or demonising them, or magnifying the flaws that a character of colour has while excusing a white character (usually a white man) for similar flaws. 

this can very clearly be seen in how so many fandoms have white male characters as the most popular amongst fans, with many white mlm ships being the centre of those fandoms. meanwhile, people of colour, whether or not they have a compelling or interesting story arc, are relegated to the side, either ignored or used as a facilitator to help the two white men get together, or acting as a side character who has no life outside their connection to the white man.

sound familiar, fandoms?

i’m not telling you that you have to like characters of colour. i’m not saying that if you don’t like yennefer, you’re racist. i can’t make you like them, and it would be wrong of me to make you. but i am imploring that you examine and evaluate your preferences, and see if you have any unconscious prejudices and biases that you might not have noticed before, and become aware of them and how your prejudices might affect the way you treat others, the way you engage with fandom content.

then maybe - maybe, poc like me won’t feel so unwelcome in fandom. we all recognise that representation is important, and the fact that characters of colour are so often pushed aside in fandom tells us that you want to push people like us aside. it tells us that, because of your internal biases, you prefer white men over us, and for me? it makes me feel unwelcome, sometimes, the way i see characters like yennefer and triss and fringilla ignored or dismissed in favour of geralt and jaskier and the wolves.

and i get that people have preferences! i too enjoy writing and reading about geralt and jaskier. but sometimes i bring up yennefer or triss or fringilla and i simply get talked over - this really doesn’t make me feel welcome, and though i can’t speak for every poc in this fandom, i can imagine that at least a few of us feel the same way. 

geraskier is still one of my favourite ships, but i’ve noticed that i tend to gravitate towards white mlm ships, and i wonder - what does that say about me and my internalised prejudices? what can i do to improve and evaluate myself?

not liking yennefer or other characters of colour doesn’t automatically make you racist. you don’t have to like them in order to not be racist. i’m merely asking that you be conscientious of your preferences, and be mindful of how you engage with fandom especially regarding characters of colour. 

consider whether you hold characters of colour to a different standard than a white character - if a character of colour were white, would you dismiss them in the same way? would you demonise them for their flaws? 

consider how you write and interpret characters of colour. do you fall into harmful stereotypes? do you use characters of colour to uplift white characters, and do characters of colour only have significance in relation to white characters?

consider how you treat fans of colour. do you listen to us when we express our concerns, or do you talk over us and try to speak for us, rather than amplifying our voices? consider your white privilege, because there are parts of fandom that impact on real life. 

there is so much more i want to talk about, so much more i could talk about in this post (going into women of colour specifically), but the post would become far, far too long, and i’ve answered quite a few asks regarding this issue, so do check them out if you’re interested in knowing more about my take on different issues regarding fandom racism. 

(and here’s an ask where i link several posts about fandom racism in the witcher fandom, and in fandom in general)

feel free to send me asks or dm me about this! this is just my take on things and i’m speaking from my limited experience, so i might not be the best equipped to talk about this. i’m open to discussion, i’m still learning and developing my views on this, so please do talk to me if you find an issue with what i’m talking about or want clarification on anything<3

[jostenneil]

I would like some shoujo recs! I haven't read any in a longtime. I don't mind if they have love triangles or love quadrangles as long as the dynamics are good.

i’m sorry for getting to this late! and i hope it’s okay to rec some josei as well, the only difference between shoujo and josei strictly speaking is the age demographic, otherwise both traditionally cater towards women (not that other ppl can’t read these obv!) 

princess tutu (anime) - this is one of the greatest pieces of shoujo i’ve ever been exposed to. it centers on a rly clever and cathartic adaptation of the swan lake mythos, and what’s most interesting about it is its focus on storytelling. the primary tag line of the show is “may those who accept their fate be granted happiness. may those who defy their fate be granted glory”. it’s all about the characters making choices and realizing their own ability to write the story that follows, rather than remaining shackled to the insidious story penned by the primary villain, drosselmeyer. the relationships are complex and dark but also rly healing in the long run, and the ballet aesthetics are exquisite! 

kanata kara (manga) - this isekai manga centers on noriko, a girl suddenly dropped into an alternate world where she’s referred to as “the awakening”, fated to awaken the monstrous sky demon. everyone in this world is bent on getting “the awakening” first to use it to their own benefit, but noriko is actually found by the sky demon, a boy named izark, and they start to travel together through various countries while on the run. the rly charming point of kanata kara is that noriko doesn’t magically know the language of the world, she has to learn it entirely from scratch. she’s also someone who works rly hard to be useful and a source of solid support for izark and the friends she makes, and i think that coupled with the narrative message of each person having their part to play in the betterment of the world is rly inspiring to read about 

akagami no shirayukihime (anime/manga) - shirayuki is a girl with rly vibrant red hair, and the prince of her country wants her as his concubine bc of it, so she decides to run away to the neighboring country. there she meets the country’s second prince, zen, along with his friends at the palace, and she makes a new living for herself as a palace pharmacist. it’s a rly sweet manga that i appreciate for delving into the behind the scenes part of court politics, particularly bc we tend to think that fantasies imply battles, but that’s not necessarily the end all, be all of relations between countries. there’s also a wonderful focus on shirayuki’s work as a pharmacist, and how her knowledge of plants and medicinal herbs helps her support zen as he works to become a prince more involved with his people 

legend of basara (manga) - this series focuses on a post apocalyptic japan ruled by an oppressive emperor. a child of prophecy is fated to be born into a village and save the country, and when twins are born, the villagers assume the brother is the fated savior. when they grow up, however, one of the emperor’s sons, the red king, kills the brother, and so his sister, sarasa, has to pretend she’s the one who died so she can carry on the revolution as her brother, else all hope is lost. all of this is tied in with the fact that in her rare free time, sarasa happens to meet a boy named shuri, who is actually the red king! neither of them know each other’s real identities or that they’re the ones facing each other on the battlefield, so it makes for a rly angty romance, coupled in with excellent political commentary on privilege and oppression. shuri has one of the best antagonist to protagonist developments i’ve ever seen, and sarasa is a great example of a character vested with so much responsibility, who wants to bring her people to freedom but also be just a normal girl 

honey and clover (anime/manga) - this is one of my all time favorites! it follows some university students attending art school and their day-to-day life as they struggle to create, maintain relationships with each other, graduate, etc. i think chica umino’s works in general can be exemplified by her portrayal of every day life, and how it’s not so mundane and actually carries a lot of emotion. there’s so much catharsis present in this work for me bc it really reaches out to people who feel lost of purposeless or alone in their lives and feel like they have no reason to continue creating or moving forward. i think it also has a rly realistic portrayal of romance in the sense that its focus is on how characters grow through romance rather than whether they end up with a certain person. esp if you’re a college student, i think it’ll rly resonate with you 

kobato (manga) - this was serialized in a seinen magazine for some reason but i think most ppl agree it feels shoujo in delivery. it’s probably my personal favorite clamp work. the floral aesthetics and artwork of angels is absolutely gorgeous, and it features a rly endearing story about a girl, kobato, who must collect “healed hearts” in a bottle in order to return to a certain place. i can’t really reveal what i most enjoy about it without giving away serious spoilers, but there’s that classic clamp execution of the binding nature of contracts and weighing the things we want against the things we must do, which makes for some rly heartfelt, angsty progressions. mostly i just love seeing the narrative unfold kobato, as she starts off as is this seemingly naive girl who we come to realize is actually hurting deeply inside

lovely complex (anime) - this is a classic so if you’ve already heard of it i wouldn’t be surprised but nonetheless it’s probably my favorite in that area of early 00s shoujo romcoms. the story follows risa and otani, who are known as a comedic duo in their high school bc she’s unusually tall and he’s unusually short. there’s lots of gags and kidding around, but ultimately the story delves into how both of them subconsciously fall for each other despite treating each other like gag men at first. there’s comedic love triangles and plenty of miscommunication galore, but i think it takes these shoujo tropes and puts a rly refreshing twist on them that drives you crazy in a way that’s actually very entertaining. the infamous bear curry gag has practically been immortalized in shoujo fandom 

yumeiro patissiere (manga) - this is another one most people have probably heard of BUT, that’s usually bc of the anime. the manga is actually much shorter and different in some ways, and at the end of the day i think i prefer it, esp art wise as the charm in matsumoto’s art style is just impossible to replicate anywhere else. it follows a girl named ichigo, who has a very sensitive taste palate and is spontaneously selected to attend a patissieres academy, despite the fact that she can’t cook for shit! she’s placed in the a-level class alongside the academy’s three genius students, commonly called the “sweets princes”, and they befriend and gradually help her hone her skills until she’s at a level where she can compete with them on a team. all in all it’s a rly endearing story about perseverance, hard work, and the desire to make ppl happy with the food you make for them (kitchen princess is also a predecessor to this series that i think may even have heavily inspired it and i would recommend it, too! it’s just a little on the darker side in terms of dramatics) 

this is just the start of a list tbh but these are some of my all time favorites that came to mind! do let me know if you try out and enjoy any of them, i would love to hear about it ❤️

[angel-tries-to-write]

A Knight in a White Hood

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Rating: Teen and up Pairing: Ezio Auditore x fem!reader Word count: 1258 Genre: hurt/comfort

Ezio wants to save Caterina, but you don’t like this idea. And obviously, you are not jealous!

“Ezio? Why the rush?” you asked, getting off the table you were sitting on, as your beloved master assassin stormed in to the hideout on Isola Tibberina (Tiber's Island).

“I know where Caterina is. Now I just need to make a good plan of her retrieve” he answered, looking at the city map.

“Why? Are you going to set her free all alone?” you didn't like this idea at all.

“Si (Yes). It is my responsibility.”

“It is not. Besides I don't like this. Why would you risk so much for a woman who would not do the same for you?” you tried really hard to hide your jealousy.

“How can you say such things? You can not know what would she do” apparently your response irritated him. Was it a sensitive topic?

“Oh, please. Women like her rarely do something because of their feelings. She needs you, so she used you. Open your eyes and see it” you pointed out.

“We are not having this conversation. I need to save Caterina” Ezio clearly showed you he wasn't going to listen to anything you have to say.

“Va bene (Very well)” you sighed. “Come on, ladies and gentlemen. We have to save contessa puttana (countess bitch)” you motioned to your apprentices, heading to the exit.

“(Y/n)!” Ezio scolded you, but your only response was a middle finger directed at him. If he wanted a broken heart, he would have it. It wasn't an appropriate behavior, but you didn't care.

You didn't talk to Ezio anymore and when the time came, you lead your apprentices for an attack, providing a distraction and creating an opportunity for Ezio to sneak in to Castel Sant'Angelo, find Caterina and rescue her. When he was inside, you commanded everyone to retreat.

Then someone's throwing knife managed to reach you. A sharp pain exploded in your side, but you ignored it, until every one of your apprentices was heading the hideout. Some of them were wounded and you were mad at Ezio, that he risked so much for a woman who never cared about him. Or maybe it was just your jealousy speaking through. It was indeed difficult to handle that he cared for an other woman this much, especially that woman. You made sure that your assassins had their wounds treated, carefully hiding your own. The doctor had just ended taking care of your apprentices, when Caterina Sforza herself came back, announcing that Ezio stayed behind to make sure her path was clear.

You used all your strength to not yell at her and stormed outside, taking a crossbow. You knew Ezio was going to be fine, but a little help wouldn't hurt. It was about time when you had arrived, he was surrounded by a large group of guards and while he was doing pretty well, he looked more and more tired. Not thinking much, you took your position, aimed and shot, killing one of the guards. Ezio briefly looked around with confusion, not stopping his fighting, then he noticed you when you shot another guard. You kept covering him until he got out safely and you could go back to the hideout.

When you entered, the doctor has just finished tending Caterina's wounds and looked at you carefully.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I am fine, only tired” you answered, leaning on the desk and trying to make it look natural.

“You are pale and sweaty, you look unwell” the physician argued.

“It is nothing. Take care of those who need help” you growled, the adrenaline was wearing off and you started to feel the pain.

“I have already taken care of everyone who needed it.”

“Fine” you gave up and uncovered your wound. The doctor examined it carefully then ordered you to undress. Reluctantly, but you did what you were told, trying not to think about having to stand almost naked in the presence of Ezio, his lover and a couple of apprentices. But the wound hurt too much and you've lost enough blood to start to worry. One of your students helped you take your clothes off, soon you were leaning on the desk only in your pants, boots and breast bindings. Your clothes needed to be washed and stitched anyway, but you would feel more comfortable with than without them.

The doctor said something about your wound (you weren't paying much attention to him), disinfected it, which made you grunt in pain, handed you some painkillers, then started giving you stitches. You always hated it, no matter how many times you experienced that — and there were many — you couldn't get used to that. When he finished bandaging, you moved to the nearest chair and collapsed onto it, breathing heavily. You were sitting there for a while, when suddenly you felt someone lifting you bridal style. You opened your eyes and saw Ezio's concerned face above you.

“When did you get this?” he asked and you suddenly felt the urge to smack him.

“When we were providing a distraction so you could sneak into Castel Sant'Angelo” you answered, not even pretending you didn't blame him for that. Ezio didn't say anything and carried you to your room in silence. Then he placed you on the bed and undressed you to your underwear. You were so shocked that even if you tried to protest, you weren't able to. And you quickly understood he meant to make you comfortable, because as soon as he took your clothes off, he covered you with a blanket.

“You need to rest” he said and left. Thankfully the painkillers started to work, so you just fell asleep, otherwise you would just break in tears.

It took a few hours before you woke up and to your surprise, Ezio was sitting by your side, lost in his thoughts.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, making him notice you're awake. “Shouldn't you be with your woman?” you were really tempted to call her somehow else, but you didn't want to fight again.

“Caterina have left. She went back to Forlí. I really hate to say that, but you were right, (y/n). She did not do anything because of her feelings indeed” Ezio sighed and even though he has just admitted you were right, you couldn't feel satisfaction. “She never loved me, just like you said.”

“But I do.”

You couldn't believe what you just did. It was probably the worst thing to do, but you did it anyway. Your fellow Master Assassin looked at you with confusion and shock.

“You do?”

“I thought it was obvious. I was so jealous of Caterina I did not want you to help her. Which was foolish of me, I should have never let my feelings interfere in our mission. I am truly sorry” you explained with embarrassment, avoiding his gaze. “I am also sorry that I was right about her. It must have hurt when she said that.”

“It did. But I think you can cheer me up.”

“I'm busy getting well.”

“Va bene (Very well). You were jealous and you got hurt. I did not listen and I had my heart broken. Can we say we are even?”

“In a moment. Come here” you patted a spot on the bed. Ezio hesitantly moved and when he was close enough, you sat up, leaned in and kissed him hard, ignoring throbbing pain in your side. After a while you pulled back and lied down again. “Now we are even.”

“I think I am falling in love with you.”

[fubukiswifenoimnotjoking]

One Punch Man ship reviews bc I’m bored

WARNING: BIG ONE PUNCH MAN WEBCOMIC AND MANGA SPOILERS

GenoSai: do I even have to say it?? They compliment each other so well and are already besties. They make me so happy and I love their love. Genos literally came into Saitama’s life and brought so much new life and excitement when Saitama thought he’d never get any. Genos gives him love and appreciation all the time and never abandons him. Saitama isn’t connected to his feelings, but he cares about Genos and would do just about anything for him, to keep him safe. Genos constantly teases Saitama and Saitama grumbles and takes it with some banter, Genos is super emotional and Saitama does his best to comfort him, they fucking love shopping together and just hanging out period, they talk about the dumbest shit and somehow they still understand each other with the one brain cell they both share. It takes Genos forever to realize his feelings are deeper and Saitama has to be TOLD by their friends that he should fucking realize his feelings already. Just...I could keep going but I’ll stop! 2718873737839439/10 (let’s not talk about the age gap btw, 6 years isn’t bad and Genos is a legal adult.)

FubuSai: the stereotypical straight ship ppl gravitate to. Eh. I can see it, but at the same time I feel like they don’t completely compliment each other. Are they a hot couple? Duh. But I feel like their pride and communication issues would get in the way. 4/10

TatsuSai: hnghhhh. Someone mentioned this before, can’t remember who, but Saitama literally thinks she’s a child in canon. So that just....makes it gross. Same problems as FubuSai but worse. I’d rather see them as hesitant friends w a weird bond. 0/10

SonSai/SonicSai/idk the ship name: eh, toxic. Cant see them getting past communication issues and pride, again. Plus Sonic wants to kill his ass. Also, I just feel no romantic tension?? Even in fanfic it just falls flat for me. 3/10

MumenSai: a favorite!! Wish I saw it more, it’s very cute. Mumen is so kind and would absolutely be there to help him w self esteem and just help him be a better person period. And Saitama would have a cute little kind guy to tease and open up to. I could maybe see Mumen’s kindness getting on Saitama’s nerves when he’s in a bad mood bc Mumen almost never snaps and Saitama feels shittier, or maybe Mumen being mad at Saitama for being kinda lazy at home while Mumen is working his ass off and he’s like babe I just got home, please stop playing the fucking game and pay attention to me I have a concussion again. Prob too nitpicky on this one, heh, but 8.4/10

Genos x Sonic: wtf? As a crack ship, sure. That’s hilarious. But as a serious ship, 1.3/10 bc I could MAYBE see them bond over their love of my chemical romance or sum.

Anyone x Puri: -128382839287473828739219833468282/10. Fuck Puri.

TatsuKing: eh. Indifferent on this one too. I can see them getting along and Tatsu being the mean but supportive gf in public, but a sweet gf in private. King could be like her calm oasis of video games and sweet blonde shy bf. I sway more towards ace/aro King and queer non binary Tatsu, but this is still good. 6/10

FubuPsy/Fubuki x Psykos/idk: hell yeah!! This series NEEDS more wlw ships, both for me to project onto and to cry over. Prob my fav Fubuki ship, cuz they’ve known each other since they were young and had a tenuous friendship. I didn’t use to ship it until I saw that scene in the wc after the MA arc (u know the one) but here we are. They’re big personalities so any interaction is bound to be chaotic at first, but I really think they’d work. Pride put to the side, Psykos could be someone for Fubuki to finally rely on other than the Blizzard Bunch, someone to confide in, a badass partner to fight monsters with, talk about nothing for hours with, be a super fashionable #girlboss couple with, and someone who would really see her for who she is-especially w Psykos knowledge of her from the past. Hell, Psykos might even know her better than Tatsumaki. Fubuki could be an anchor to her like she currently is in the wc, providing a quiet comfort and making her open up little by little. Would prob be toxic at first bc of the MA arc and their desire for power, but is a very good ship I think. 9/10

Speedal/Sonic x Mumen: an old fav! Sonic would have a hard time not hating Mumen at first bc he’s the picture definition of a hero, sum he hates. But hanging out with him would show him Mumen is a GOOD guy genuinely and he’d be like ohhhh shit I’m in love w this man. Mumen would thoroughly appreciate someone to make him live a little, break some rules and stand up to ppl when they talk over him. He’d DEFINITELY be upset when finding out Sonic is an assassin, but would prob be conflicted bc he knows Sonic is a good person despite that. Would prob make Sonic give up on killing for them to be together. Sucks bc of the assassin thing and bc they haven’t met in canon! So we’re not sure how they’d interact with each other, sigh. 7.4/10

Okamaitachi x Bushidrill: a very underrated ship! To be clear, I headcanon Kama as a trans woman and so does most of the fandom. Anyway, very sweet and already built as a friendship bc of their partnership under Atomic Samurai. I can’t remember who writes fic and makes art of them on tumblr but AAAAA it’s so good! Very sweet. Basically depicted Bushi as a nervous himbo who’s honest about his feelings but scared to say them and Kama as a sweet lady who’s crazy about Bushi. Very sweet. Want more of them!! 6.1/10

OneZon/Zombieman x One Shotter: never even thought of the ship till I saw @megidolan art work! Very wholesome, and from what little we know of Shotter we know he’s a sort of nervous yet strong willed guy, and Zombieman would totally help him calm down bc he’s so chill. I could see them sharing cigarettes and talking shit on heroes while cuddling u know? 7/10 only because I don’t see enough of it but very good concept.

Mumarou/Mumen x Garou: a lot of ppl are gonna hate me for this but....I don’t like it. I’ve tried! I just—idk. I’ve read so many good fics about them that make me like it a bit, but the concept is just eh. I think their relationship is, in most reps, really cliche angsty stuff. I wish I could elaborate I just...gah! Basically, there’s better ships for the both of them imo. Sorry!! 4.3/10

Sonic x Flashy/SonFlash: yes!! Prob my fav Sonic ship. They have soooo much tension, it’s almost worse than Genos’ tension w Saitama. Flashy LITERALLY poisoned Sonic so that he wouldn’t be forced to kill him at the ninja graduation. He cares. They’ll never say it out loud, but they care. They have someone who understands what they went through in each other and someone they’re both so similar to, yet so different from. Sonic is more vocal about his expressions and let’s people know it while Flashy often keeps things to himself, they could really influence the other to be more this or that. I could see a lot of comfort with these two, and not much is needed for relationship development; they already have so much unspoken between them after meeting for the first time in years. Love it. Wish I saw it more! 10/11

KingSai: wonderful! Out of the few ppl Saitama is close to, def my second fav pick for a ship for him. There’s a post saying how Saitama doesn’t cut King off when he’s going on rants about games and stuff bc he’s talking TO Saitama, not at him like Genos tends to do on accident. They’re already great buddies! Saitama could find a shy gamer man who he can talk to about manga and stuff and also a passionate bf who could break out of his shell w Saitama and be himself with no lies. King can have someone to protect him, duh, someone who finally understands his weird sense of humor, and someone to shower him in the love and kindness he deserves when Saitama is in the mood to be all out like that w his affections. Plus he’s Saitama’s anchor and brings him back down when he’s super anxious and depressed and tells him what’s up that he needs to fix without sugarcoating it. Would def have a bunch of inside jokes and go on dates that are just staying inside playing video games all night. Domestic af. 10/10

Fubuki x Mizuki: my first wlw Fubuki ship! Hard to find but very good. Mizuki is this big ball of kindness, energy, and raw power that would make Fubuki go ‘Ohhhhhhh, big pretty lady make brain go brrr.’ I could see Mizuki grounding Fubuki when she’s in over her head, giving her random gifts bc she saw sum and thought of her, doing a marathon run and wildly waving at Fubuki in the crowd, and all around being a dependable woman confident in herself and in love with a mysterious esper. Prob a little shy when it comes to anything physical bc she loves Fubuki so much and is overwhelmed by the realness of being w her. Fubuki gives Mizuki advice on ‘acting like a proper hero’ or whatever and though Mizuki thinks she doesn’t need it, Fubuki still helps her a lot w her career and being taken more seriously by others. Would give Mizuki someone who loves her for who she is and would go wild on her in private when she can be open about her affection, would be someone Mizuki could exercise with and listen intently to Mizuki’s physical knowledge, and would absolutely bandage her when she’s all banged up. Hnghh love this ship. It’s only behind the FubuPsy ship juuuuust a little bc they haven’t met in canon so we can’t be sure about their interactions and stuff. 8.8/10, I love WOMEN

Batarou: how could I go this far without mentioning them?! They have SOOOO much tension in the centichoro fight, like come on. Both snarky assholes who are huge softies one the inside, Badd being the more logical one (still a himbo, tho) and Garou being the more chaotic one. Probably take forever to admit their feelings bc they’re so prideful and stupid <3 flirt through constant wrestling matches and it takes Genos saying ‘they should kiss already, they’re getting on his nerves’ for them to finally realize what’s up. (@rayadraws has a great au where Garou Genos and Badd are a chaotic friend squad and Genos is the only brain of the group, haha. Very good au y’all check it out!) Would constantly pick on each other affectionately and switch into concerned SO when the other is hurt like the big teddy bears they are. Raise Zenko together for sure. Garou would fumble being romantic and Badd would find it both hilarious and cute. 11/12

Zombie mask/Amai x Zombieman:

So. I don’t like Amai Mask and I used to hate him, BUT the webcomic and fic have really helped me calm down on him (he’s still a dick tho), so it’s easier to want to ship him and stuff. Bc of Amai’s anger issues and controlling behavior, I could see this relationship being super toxic and icky—but I think they have some form of understanding that pulls Amai back from being a complete dick, you know? Start off as fuck buddies and slowly form something else from spending companionable time together other than screwing. Zombieman pulls Amai back from his angry fits and soothes him over with his logic. Talk maaaaaad shit about heroes, but only when they’re alone because Zombieman knows Amai will talk loud af about the heroes they’re roasting and Zombie doesn’t wanna stop a fight from happening. Zombieman loves making Amai flustered and has a secret check list in his head of all the things that get Amai red faced. Loves to listen to Amai rant about things for hours and loves to watch his face go through almost cartoon like expressions as he talks. He won’t admit it, but Zombie loves to be spoiled by Amai’s shit tons of cash and often takes rides in Amai’s limos when he wants to smoke and think to himself. Amai has a hard time realizing how his feelings have changed, but gets hit hard with it when he wakes up to Zombie making them breakfast one morning while wearing Amai’s underwear. Amai also loves to spoil Zombie and takes him out to restaurants and buys him cool new weapons on the weekends. @batneko has pretty much gotten me into this ship and I strongly suggest looking at their works! 7.9/10

DemonKnight/Genos x Zero/Drive Knight: I’m pretty sure this used to be a crack ship before the past like 10 manga chapters—and now here we are! Not a fav bc 1. ZERO LEFT GENOS TO SELF DESTRUCT AFTER THEY COMBINED TO FORM THE FUCKING JET HE WAS JUST LIKE lol bye SO LIKE if he left him to die that’s super hard for me to forgive and ship grrr 2. Disregarding the manga’s canon and looking at the wc, while I love the little trip they went on where Zero demonstrated his abilities and helped Genos kill monsters, it’s super sus. He knew alllll of this info on Metal Knight and was super supportive and understanding when Genos said he needed time to think. Like,,,what are his intentions? We know so little about him—is he trying to trick Genos or was he being sincere? THAT STUFF ASIDE, they’re a really fun ship. They’re both huge fucking nerds and can keep up with their talk on robotics for hours, they’re both cyborgs so they understand each other’s pain, and they’re both super cool and angsty. I think they could really settle into a deep bond that can go platonic or romantic, just depends. Genos needs more ppl in his life so hell yeah! Plus, he can really let go with Zero bc they don’t have that teacher/student relationship and Zero, if he’s really a sincere and kind guy like in the wc, can be there for Genos and listen to him. Don’t have much to say on this ship other than @wellthisisembarrassing makes GORGEOUS art of them! 6.3/10

Webuiko/Suiko x Webigaza: YEAH I KNOW THEY HAVENT INTERACTED IN CANON AND WE DONT KNOW MUCH ABOUT THEM BUT HEAR ME OUT. Webigaza—cool af determined cyborg idol who’s surprisingly down to earth when talking with Child Emperor. Suiko—sassy and honest fighter who doesn’t take shit and is very passionate. Suiko would go to talk to Web then immediately freak out bc aaaa she’s way prettier than she thought, she can’t do this! Web would have to gently encourage Suiko to talk and at first is like ‘ah man, must be an adoring fan, ugh I’m so tired. At least she’s hot’ but when Suiko snaps out of her shyness Web is like oh! She’s super cool wtf. Always bump into each other during fights and help each other get fixed up, Suiko using her muscle power to lift Web’s pieces (and give Web a great view of Suiko’s muscles holy SHIT) and Web would patch Suiko up. Not to be stereotypical, but they’re def a masc/femme couple. I love the idea of this ship soooo much and I really hope they interact! 6.6/10 only bc they haven’t met 😭😭😭 look them up on here! There’s some great art of them by a few blogs

Dr. Kuseno x Bang: pretty sure @baldyborg came up with this one! Super cute. Just two old dudes finding a nice friendship in each other, maybe after Bang helps carry Genos to Kuseno’s after a day of fighting. Bang would find Kuseno to be a very cute little nerd man and would be sooo impressed by Kuseno’s mad scientist skills. Kuseno would be super impressed when seeing Bang in action too. They’d prob talk as soon as they meet each other and Genos would be in the background like you guys it’s been an hour, please fix me I’m on the verge of death 🧍🏻Bang would give Kuseno advice on training techniques to teach Genos and advice on making his bodies more martial arts ready or sum, meanwhile Kuseno would give his take on how to be kinder to Garou so that Bang would learn to repair the relationship with a gentleness he’s seemingly lacking (yes I’m talking about the chapter where he and Garou start fighting and Bang is just not doing enough to reach out to Garou, he’s being a callous old man! So yeah I’m still mad about that). Genos and Saitama would prob be out on a date and Saitama would be like oh theres Bang, wonder what he’s doing? Then Kuseno would walk up and kiss Bang and Genos and Sai would be shocked like SIRS 👬 Genos would tell Bang he doesn’t need another adoptive dad and Bang would be like....ok.... I see them retiring in a cottage together and Bang would become a huge softie. Yes I’m actively ignoring chapter 141 of the wc, shut up. 7.6/10

TankTop master x Mumen: they have a nice friendship going on in the manga right now! Just bros supporting bros. Tank is the picture definition of a muscly himbo and Mumen is his cute passionate bf. Also workout buddies af!! Don’t have much to say other than pretty good ship, just not a fav. 5.2/10

To sum it up—

GenoSai: 2718873737839439/10, Batarou: 11/12, SonFlash: 10/11, KingSai: 10/10, FubuPsy: 9/10, Fubuki x Mizuki: 8.8/10, MumenSai: 8.4/10, ZombieMask: 7.9/10, Dr. Kuseno x Bang: 7.6/10, Speedal: 7.4/10, OneZon: 7/10, Webuiko: 6.6/10, DemonKnight: 6.3/10, Okamaitachi x Bushidrill: 6.1/10, TatsuKing: 6/10, TankTop Master x Mumen: 5.2/10, Mumarou: 4.3/10, FubuSai: 4/10, SonSai: 3/10, Genos x Sonic: 1.3/10, TatsuSai: 0/10, anyone x Puri: -1283828319833468282/10

If there’s any ships I left out, it’s bc I don’t know them, don’t wanna talk about them, or just don’t have an opinion strong enough. Also, I know there are some poly ships like Genos x Saitama x Fubuki, but I’ve read only one fic about that (it was pretty good, here’s the link https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406992 ) so I don’t feel like talking about it. Hope no ones offended! All my opinion here :)

[tsarisfanfiction]

A Little Fall Of Rain

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Scott, John

Here is my contribution to @tagminibang!  My artist was the absolutely fantastic @chenria and you can find her accompanying art over here.  Something nice and family friendly from us here (please don’t mind the title, it has nothing to do with a certain musical song), and of course some good old Scott&John because who doesn’t love that?

John’s pulled one of his disappearing acts again, and Scott can’t relax until he knows where he’s gone.

People.  There were people everywhere, all dressed to the nines and peacocking around.  Nothing particularly unusual for an event hosted by Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, where no-one in attendance was worth less than at least ten million dollars apiece and appearing to be the poorest in the room would make you a target for the vampires of the elite.

It was a gauntlet Scott would have gladly accepted, not particularly bothered by how others perceived him and his wealth, except the problem with being a Tracy was that his status of multi-billionaireness was well known, and he was actually richer than most of the aristocracy in attendance, even if there were a few Old Money families that looked down their noses at the Tracys for being New Money.

Still, the buffer of their wealth was, at least, sparing his brother from being preyed upon as the poor, charity case invited to look good.  Scott wasn’t sure who the actual poorest person in the room was, but anything to keep at least some of the pressure of the occasion off of John was always worth it.

It was a well known fact that John despised this sort of event.  Too many people, too much noise and gravity, too many expected conversations and a lot of interest in the elusive Tracy.  Scott still wasn’t sure why Lady Penelope insisted he attend these things, and knew that John was going to hide himself up on Thunderbird Five for at least a month and come down for absolutely nothing or no-one as soon as he escaped the party.  She called it good for him, and a breath of fresh air, and Scott only let it slide because John never actually said no.

Speaking of his brother, he’d once again lost sight of the distinctive ginger hair amongst the vibrant colours of the event.  Hopefully, that meant that John was just in hiding, rather than the chance he’d been dragged into a conversation out of Scott’s current sight.  He glanced around the room again, just to be sure, and when no flash of ginger caught his eye, set his shoulders and beelined for their host.

Resplendent in a stunning light pink ballgown, elegant hands covered with equally elegant white gloves and hair coiffed into something gravity-defying yet somehow not at all outrageous, Lady Penelope was entertaining an elderly woman who Scott had been briefly introduced to earlier in the event, some hours ago, as the Duchess of Royston.  As far as the British aristocrats seemed to go, she seemed quite amicable, so Scott had no qualms about stepping in as their conversation paused.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but have you seen John recently?”

“Have you lost him?” Lady Penelope asked, sounding the faintest bit amused.  If it was anyone else, Scott would have been annoyed at that, but a longstanding friendship with the Lady told him there was no malice or judgement behind it.  It was the amusement of someone who knew how much John hated crowds, and how much Scott could, according to his brothers, hover.  “I’m afraid I haven’t seen him recently.”

The answer wasn’t surprising, but it was a little disappointing.

“The redheaded young man?” the Duchess asked, and Scott turned to her.  “I do believe I saw him heading for the doors earlier.”  She gestured to the small side door that led out of the ballroom and, if Scott’s memory served, towards the gardens.

John was likely hiding, then.

Scott smiled at both women.  “Thank you,” he said, inclining his head a little towards the older of the two.  “I’ll leave you to your conversation.  Sorry again for the interruption.”

“What a charming young man,” he heard as he walked away.  “Penelope, I know it’s not my place to say, but you could do far worse than a man like that.”

Scott picked up the pace a little, determined to get out of earshot of whatever reply to that Lady Penelope would make, and making a note to never let Gordon know.

The rich like to talk to the rich, and although Scott was on a mission to find and check on his brother, he was waylaid by at least three other people all wanting to discuss all manner of things from International Rescue to, disconcertingly, his ongoing bachelorship before he was able to slip through the door and head down the corridor.

Soundproofing cut off the hubbub of conversation the moment the door clicked shut behind him, proving an excellent argument for why John would come this way, and Scott followed the hallway until he found a bay window that overlooked one of the many gardens in the Creighton-Ward estate.

John was perched on the window sill, although window seat was probably a more accurate term, looking out at the gentle rain falling from the sky.  Raindrops raced each other down the panes of glass, and Scott silently settled next to him, waiting to be acknowledged.

It didn’t take long.  “I’m fine,” his brother said quietly, still looking out the window rather than turning to face him.  Scott hadn’t expected him to.  “You can go back.”

Scott let out a wry chuckle.  “The hot topic right now seems to be how eligible a bachelor I am,” he said, leaning forwards on his knees and watching his brother out of the corner of his eye.  “If you don’t mind, I think I’d quite like to stay here until they move on to other things.”

His brother let out a hmm, sounding thoroughly amused at that, and Scott rolled his eyes.  He knew full well that John was more than happy for him to be the target of that particular type of conversation, because it meant most of them would forget to ask him the same questions.  Sibling solidarity only went so far, and perhaps even more so than the rest of his brothers, John was all too willing to throw him under the bus to evade the limelight himself.

“If they follow you here, I am leaving,” John threatened mildly.  “And then you will not be welcome to follow me.”  It wasn’t an empty threat, but that didn’t matter because Scott would always use himself as bait if it meant a brother could escape a bad situation.  Besides, John knew Lady Penelope’s manor far better than he did, and Scott knew if John really wanted to hide, even he wouldn’t be able to find him until the ginger was ready to be found.

It wouldn’t be the first time, after all.  John had never been a fan of social situations and had mastered the art of disappearing young.  Scott had many memories of running around frantically, trying in vain to find where his brother had got to after taking his eye off of him for two seconds.  For someone with such vibrant natural colouring, John was unfairly good at the vanishing act.

He sighed and settled back against the window pane more comfortably.  At least John was old enough now to look after himself if he did vanish, and would always come home eventually - even if it was only a necessary stop on his way back to Thunderbird Five and the stars while he recuperated from socialising.  It was a marked improvement from when he’d vanish as a child and leave everyone in a panic until he reappeared hours later.

Scott had never quite shaken the instinct to panic when he vanished, no matter how old and self-sufficient his brother was now.

“I can hear you thinking from here,” John said suddenly, and Scott glanced up at him again.  He was still watching the rain out the window, seemingly disinterested in paying any attention to his older brother - aside from the comment, which made it perfectly clear that John was, in fact, keeping track of him with at least part of that big brain of his.  “I told you I’m fine.”

“I know you are,” he assured him, feeling the cool of the glass seep towards his scalp from where he was resting his head against the window.

John gave a considering hum.  “In that case, I’ll assume you’re working yourself into a panic unnecessarily.”

Scott huffed, unwilling to concede the point.  “I am not working myself into a panic,” he retorted, a little defensively.

His brother finally turned his head away from the window slightly, enough for one turquoise eye to come into view.  The accompanying ginger eyebrow rose in challenging disbelief and Scott scowled in response.

“I was just thinking about all the vanishing acts you tend to pull at things like this,” he admitted after a moment.  The visible turquoise eye rolled at him before John turned back to face the window.  He didn’t say anything in response, but he didn’t need to; his body language broadcasted perfectly well that he thought Scott was being an idiot.

Scott was used to that attitude - none of his brothers ever seemed to fully appreciate what it was like to be their big brother, after all.  Gordon might proudly claim that his grey hairs were all down to his fish of a brother, but the truth of the matter was that they’d all contributed.

Still, Scott wouldn’t change any of them for the world.

Raindrops raced down the large window, merging and lingering and swallowing smaller ones before darting several inches further down in a blink of an eye.  It was a mesmerising sight; no wonder John was so captivated by the weather.

Then again, he didn’t get rain in space.

Scott was on his feet before his mind caught up.  His movement caught John’s attention, judging by the way the single, turquoise eye reappeared to regard him once more.

“Going back already?” his brother asked.  “I thought you were hiding from the discussions about your eligible bachelorship.”  There was no sympathy at all in John’s voice, just an undercurrent of amusement.  Scott suspected he wouldn’t be hearing the end of it for a while.

“No,” he said truthfully, which was apparently unexpected enough for John to look away from the window completely.

“Then where are you going?” his brother asked.  John was normally far too perceptive for Scott’s liking, and he probably shouldn’t be relishing catching him out as much as he was.

“Come on,” Scott invited in answer, tilting his head towards the window.  “Let’s go.”

John glanced back towards the window, raising an eyebrow at the rain still falling.  “You want to go outside?”

“Why not?” Scott shrugged.  “No-one’s going to chase us out there.”

“Because their clothes would get ruined,” John pointed out.  “Like ours will.”

Scott rolled his eyes.  He wasn’t so attached to the suit he was currently wearing that he’d mourn the loss, and he knew John felt similarly about his own formal clothes.

“They’re replaceable,” he pointed out.  “So, are you coming?”

John’s arguments didn’t fool him one bit - one thing his brother truly missed when he was amongst the stars was the cool sensation of rain on his skin, and Scott suspected that the only reason he’d been sat in the bay window instead of somewhere in the Creighton-Ward’s impressive grounds was because he’d known Scott would come looking for him sooner or later, and would have panicked if he couldn’t find him.

Sure enough, with one last sigh that was entirely put-upon, John extended his long legs and made his way to his feet.  “Lead the way.”

Scott wasn’t as familiar with the manor as his brother, but he had a pretty good idea where most of the external doors were.  John stayed at his shoulder as they passed through the hallways, bereft of any of the other guests, who were all no doubt still gossiping in the ballroom, and found a door that led outside.

The rain wasn’t a monsoon, but it was steady, leaving the sky heavy and grey, and misting out the trees on the far edge of the lawn.  Scott lingered in the threshold of the door for a moment, watching the weather, but his brother had no such hesitation.

A little brother he might be, but John had never needed Scott to lead the way.  With the assurance that Scott now knew where he was, and wouldn’t be hunting him down frantically, he strode out past him, the fabric covering his shoulder just brushing Scott’s, and out into the rain.

Scott lingered a moment longer, watching the way John tilted his face up slightly to greet the rain, the ginger curl of his bangs losing some of its volume as it dampened.  John didn’t beam like their brothers when he was happy, but there was a relaxation in his face and a draining of tension in his body that told Scott that he’d got it right.  John really had wanted to go out in the rain.

When his brother’s vibrant eyes slid closed, he took the final step outside himself, feeling the cool raindrops caressing his own skin and seeping into his hair.  His hair gel was going to wash out if he stayed out here for too long, but that was a small price to pay to see John enjoying himself down on Earth.

So was the suit.  The already black fabric of his jacket darkened even further with water almost immediately, and he knew that by the time John was ready to go inside again, it would be completely ruined.  As he’d said to his brother, though, the suits were replaceable.

John’s happiness was not.  Scott would ruin a hundred jackets if it meant seeing John so relaxed and content.

Jacketless, his brother’s shirt was quickly becoming soaked through, the white material clinging to his body - the same way his vibrant hair was starting to plaster to his scalp - gaining hints of translucency, and the thought crossed Scott’s mind that he’d have to make sure John didn’t get sick later.  The astronaut didn’t seem to care about that, though, standing stock still for several minutes with his hands loosely hanging by his side and his face tilted upwards.

Scott hung back, several paces away but still outside in the rain himself.  Cool droplets trickled down the back of his neck, originating somewhere around his hairline, and he could tell even without raising a hand to check that his own hair was plastering itself to his scalp in much the same way as John’s.  One droplet ran down from his forehead and caught the corner of his eye, tangled up in eyelashes, and Scott blinked twice to clear it.  Reluctantly it got the message and carried on down his face, running over his cheek and trailing down towards his chin.

They didn’t get rain like this at home.  English rain was strange, and definitely nothing like the tropical rains Tracy Island witnessed.  Even Kansas weather had been different to this.  The water was cool and refreshing on his skin, and after several moments Scott took another couple of steps forwards, towards his brother.

He didn’t enter his personal space, though.  If John wanted him there, he would make it clear - most likely by moving himself until he was within arm’s reach of Scott.  As they’d come out here to escape the crowds, however, Scott deemed that unlikely.  Instead, he wandered past him, away from the manor and large ballroom windows.  If the wrong person looked out and saw them, their little rainy peace would be broken by someone else who cared less for their clothes than chasing Tracys.

Scott made sure to keep John in view, not prepared to hunt his brother down if the ginger pulled another disappearing act, even as he found a lone tree standing proud in the middle of the manicured lawn and slipped around it, allowing the trunk to conceal him from anyone glancing outside.

Exactly what type of tree it was, he didn’t know, but it was large and broad, boughs extending out above his head and providing a meagre shelter from the rain.  It was the same as the trees that made up the woodland at the far edge of the lawn - also large and proud, but with enough space between some of them to hide a Thunderbird.  His own ‘bird lurked inside, concealed from view and waiting to carry the two of them back home the next morning.

Tonight, Lady Penelope had insisted, they would stay with her, and Scott had no reason to decline.  He did, however, hope that it was an invitation that hadn’t been extended to any of the other guests.  Evading their apparent fixation with his marriage status - or lack thereof - was not something he wanted to have to spend all night and breakfast doing as well.

No matter how amused John might be at the whole affair.

Speaking of John, his brother appeared to have noticed that he’d moved, because he’d opened his eyes and started moving forwards himself.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one hiding from the party,” the ginger commented, his voice dry and at odds with the wet shirt he was wearing.  The white had gone well and truly translucent now, clinging to his body in a way that Scott knew from experience would get John hounded by half the party the next time they saw him.

He made a mental note to sacrifice his jacket in John’s direction before they went back in.  It wouldn’t be a perfect fit, but it would at least keep the attention off of him long enough for John to scrounge up a change of clothes.

“Yeah, well,” he replied, shrugging.  “It wouldn’t matter which of us was hiding if they spotted the other, would it?”

John let out a small chuckle in response, rounding the tree in its entirety and therefore putting himself out of sight as well.  “Are you sure it’s not just because you don’t want them badgering you about being single?”

He huffed in response, crossing his arms and leaning back against the trunk.  The bark rubbed against the back of his jacket, but he ignored it.  The rain had already done enough damage - what was a little more?

“My relationship status is none of their business,” he grumbled, shooting his younger brother a considering look.  “Wait until they start on you.”

The smirk he got in return didn’t make him feel any better.

“They won’t give me a second glance while you’re around, big brother,” John pointed out with the air of someone who knew exactly what was up, and was quietly smug about it.  “No-one’s interested in the spare Tracy.”

Scott rolled his eyes.  “You know, technically you’re my heir,” he reminded him.  It did nothing to douse the smug smirk his brother was sending his way.

“They don’t think like that,” John shrugged confidently.  He was still out from underneath the protection of the boughs, rain falling on his skin and leaving trails of water across it.  Scott watched a raindrop run right to the tip of his nose and hang there; the astronaut didn’t even seem to notice, even though it made Scott’s own nose twitch empathetically.  “The only heirs they’re interested in are the unborn ones you don’t have because you’re still an eligible bachelor.”

Urgh.  Scott pulled a face.  “Did you have to put it like that?”

John’s ongoing smirk confirmed that yes, he did have to phrase it like that.  Little brothers - who wanted them?

Scott refused to give John any satisfaction by saying that out loud, although he suspected that didn’t actually matter.  If there was anyone who had mastered the art of mind-reading, Scott would put John right at the top of the suspect list.

“Well,” John said after a moment, shifting his weight.  “I’m going to go for a walk.  Are you coming, or would you rather hide under the tree?”

“I’m sheltering,” Scott corrected.  John made an uh huh noise in the back of his throat which he purposefully ignored.  Still, if John was offering company, instead of retreating into his own personal space, then Scott wasn’t going to turn that down.  The problem with John living in space was that he just didn’t get to see this particular little brother in person as much as he’d like.

He pushed off from the tree, straightening up and shoving his hands in his pockets as he took the couple of short steps back out into the rain.  John hadn’t bothered to wait for him, and he had to jog a couple more paces before he was at his brother’s side.

It felt like the rain had got heavier, but the droplets were still cool and refreshing on his face, even if he could feel his hair wilting under the weight.  Beside him, John’s hair had all but lost its usual curl, vibrant strands of ginger instead plastered to his forehead.  His brother didn’t seem to care at all.

Despite inviting him along, John didn’t seem particularly inclined towards conversation as he picked his way across the expansive grounds of the Creighton-Ward manor.  It was clear that this was far from his brother’s first time doing so; while Scott started getting a little turned around by all the identically pruned bushes and perfect flowerbeds, John continued unerringly as though it was his ridiculously large garden.

Not that Scott could really comment on the size of the Creighton-Ward estate when his own home consisted of an entire volcano.  Both the ranch and the Kansas farm spanned equally large acreage; the Tracys had never been a stranger to calling huge swathes of land home.

John had easily spent enough time in this manor during his Oxford days to have the entire estate mapped out in that impressive brain of his.  Scott resolved to never play hide and seek with him here.

The silence that hung between them was a comfortable one.  On some levels, it was more touching and heartfelt than if John had wanted to talk - John was a huge fan of personal space, and being invited to share it, trusted to share it, when he had so clearly hit his socialising quota already was akin to an honour.

Rain continued to fall, Scott’s jacket feeling more and more sodden by the minute, but John never headed for anything remotely resembling shelter.  The weather wasn’t particularly warm, either.  By English standards it might have been passable, but being used to the tropics meant that Scott found it decidedly on the cool side.

John seemed unaffected, but then again John spent most of his time in a rigidly controlled environment and hated the heat.  Scott still hoped he’d be able to persuade Parker to get them both a hot drink when they re-entered the manor building.  Then again, he wouldn’t put it past the older man to bundle them straight to their rooms with layers of blankets and disapproving mumbles.  The former crook liked to pretend he was as tough as nails - and in some respects he was - but he was also quick to fuss over the few friends he had.

Being counted amongst that number was almost as high an honour as being invited to share John’s personal bubble.

Sunbeams poked out from behind the grey clouds as they were strolling through one of several rose gardens - or maybe it was the same one and John had led them around in circles a few times.  In answer, the rain faded away into nothing and the world hung, heavy and still.  John stopped walking, and Scott followed suit.

Above them, the clouds were dispersing.  It seemed that the rain was over, at least for now, although the world around them shimmered a little like crystal as sun caught beads of water clinging to the flowers, the grass, the trees.  John glistened as well, his hair transformed into a burning halo as the sun caught the water plastering it to his scalp.

Hands in his pockets and face once again tilted to the sky, Scott’s little brother appeared to be considering something.  What, there was no point asking.  If John wanted him to be part of the decision making process, he’d say so.  Scott suspected he was debating if he wanted to stay outside or duck inside the manor to escape the reappearing sun.

John missed the rain on Thunderbird Five.  He did not miss the sunburn.

Sure enough, after a moment his brother turned to face him.

“I’m heading back inside,” John said.  “Are you done hiding from your eligible bachelorness yet or are you going to stay out here?”

Scott huffed at him, narrowing his eyes in displeasure at the jab.  John really wasn’t going to be letting that go any time soon.

“They’ll have moved topics by now,” he replied, a lot more confidently than he felt.  In all honesty, he had no idea how long it would be the hot topic for, but if he stayed out later than John he’d never live it down.

“That topic won’t be dropped until you’re married with kids,” his brother pointed out.  Scott scowled.  “But if you’re sure you’re ready to go back in…”  He trailed off meaningfully and, without waiting for Scott, started striding back towards the manor.

Not wanting to let his brother out of his sight, and maybe a little unsure of the paths back, Scott lengthened his stride to catch up with him again.  Turquoise eyes glanced sideways at him, and John’s face settled into subtle amusement.

Scott decided it was best for his pride if he didn’t ask what was funny.

He glanced up at the sky as they walked.  The shimmer of moisture in the air was fading as the sun grew stronger and the clouds continued on their merry way to deposit rain on some other part of the English countryside.  It wouldn’t be raining again just yet.

His foot caught something hard and he stumbled.  Instantly a vice-like grip appeared on his arm, yanking him back upright and steadying him.

“And you call me the clumsy one,” John commented lightly.  “Watch where you’re walking.”

Scott glared down at the flowerbed border he’d apparently walked into before switching targets to his brother.  John, as always, seemed completely unperturbed at the look.  Turquoise eyes looked him up and down, clearly making sure he hadn’t somehow hurt himself with his stumble, before the grip on his arm vanished and John continued down the path.

Sending another glare at the border, Scott followed.

Being behind John quickly brought back the reason why he’d been checking the sky.  While the rain had stopped, the white shirt his brother was wearing was still very soaked through, with the consequences of that on full display.  Scott shrugged out of his own, soaking wet, jacket.

“John,” he called, lengthening his strides to catch up.  His brother paused and turned back to look at him quizzically, jumping as Scott draped the waterlogged jacket over his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” the astronaut asked, making to shrug the fabric off.  “Carry your own jacket, Scott.”

Scott caught the fabric before it could fall to the ground.  “John, you’re wearing a white shirt.”

A single eyebrow raised.  “Your observational skills are unparalleled.”

Little brothers.  Scott huffed.  “And yours are lacking,” he retorted.  “You wore a white shirt in the rain.”

John looked at him, puzzled, for a moment, before comprehension dawned across his face.  A quick glance down had his pale skin reddening slightly.

“Oh.”

Scott shook his head fondly and draped the jacket around his brother’s shoulders again.  This time it was gratefully accepted.  They weren’t quite the same size, but Scott’s shoulders were the broader of the two, so while the fabric bunched a little oddly when John threaded his arms through the sleeves and fumbled the buttons until it was concealing as much of the wet white shirt as possible, it did at least fit.  Scott was grateful it wasn’t Virgil.

“You might want to go and get changed into something dry,” he suggested.  “Get out of those clothes.”

“I didn’t bring a spare suit,” John reminded him.  “I don’t have anything else with me suitable for Lady P’s party.”

Scott rolled his eyes and started walking again.  “Then just don’t come back to the party,” he said bluntly.  “That’s not exactly a tragedy for you.  You can see Lady Penelope again once it’s over - she won’t care what you’re wearing.”

“She will care,” John corrected, catching up to him.  “She’ll judge my outfit and everything.”  Despite the words being ones of apparent complaint, he didn’t actually seem that bothered about it.  Then again, he had survived going to university with the woman.  Their friendship was on a completely different level compared to the one the rest of the Tracys shared with her.

“Just go and get yourself out of those wet clothes and make yourself comfortable for the rest of the evening,” Scott sighed.  “I’ll make your excuses.”

“If I need to get changed, why don’t you?” John challenged.  Scott grinned at him and tapped his own shirt.

“Not white,” he pointed out.  Well, admittedly, he would call it white, but according to Virgil it was cream, and according to the weather that combined with the covering jacket meant that it hadn’t gone the same way as John’s white shirt.  “Ergo, still appropriate for polite company.”

John scrutinised him for several moments as they walked, as though he was trying to find an excuse why Scott’s outfit wasn’t appropriate any more.

“You’ll get sick if you stay in wet clothes too long,” he said eventually.  “Make sure you come up and get changed soon.”

“I don’t have a spare suit, either,” Scott admitted.  “I’ll be fine.”  It couldn’t be that many more hours before the end of the party, surely…

“If you’re not up in half an hour I’m sending Parker to extract you,” John said firmly.  “Virgil will have both our hides if you go home sick.”

“Half an hour?” Scott repeated.  “I’ll be lucky to talk to Lady Penelope by then.  You’ll have to give me longer than that.”  There was no point telling John not to enlist Parker at all - his brother would hum non-committedly then do it anyway the instant he was out of earshot.

John scoffed.  “You’ll find a way,” he said confidently.  “Just flirt your way through the crowds like you normally do.  Half an hour, then Parker will get involved.”

They’d arrived back at the manor itself, and John sent him one last smug grin before vanishing up what had to be a servant’s staircase before Scott could try another attempt to bargain for more time.  With a quiet groan, Scott adjusted his damp tie and headed back towards the ballroom.

His wet - and likely bedraggled - appearance caused a stir when he re-entered the room.  Conversations stopped, eyes stared, and then the whispering started.  Well, he’d take them talking about him over attempts to restart the conversations about his relationship status.

He scanned the room for the tell-tale flash of pink, locating Lady Penelope just before she came to a stop in front of him.

“I was under the impression you were looking for John, not trying to impersonate a drowned rat,” the Lady commented lightly.  “You also appear to have misplaced your jacket, Scott.”

He shrugged lazily.  “John wanted to go outside.”

“I see.”  From the fond look that flickered in her eyes, she probably did get it.  The British aristocrat was the closest thing John had to a best friend, after all.  “And where is John now?”

“Retiring for the evening,” Scott explained.  “Or at least until the party’s over and the stars are out.”

Lady Penelope laughed a little at that.  “I shouldn’t be surprised,” she agreed.  “And what about you?  I notice today’s main topic of discussion isn’t to your liking.”  There was a twinkle of amusement in her eyes that was entirely too similar to John’s reaction.

Scott decided the best thing to do was ignore it.

“I should get changed,” he admitted.  “I’ll see you after the party’s over?”

“I dare say you should,” Lady Penelope agreed, “before you turn my ballroom into a swimming pool.  Very well, I’ll see you boys later.”  She turned away, and immediately got caught in another conversation with a guest.

Scott took the opportunity to duck back out of the room, evading anyone who might want to corner him for further conversations that he really didn’t care for.

Parker was standing just outside the door.

“Ah, there you h’are,” the butler said as Scott narrowly avoided walking into him.  “h’I h’understand you’re done for the h’evening?”

Scott checked his watch.  “There’s no way it’s been half an hour already,” he said suspiciously.

“‘alf h’an hour since when?” Parker asked innocently.  “Master John said nothing h’about h’a time limit.”  No, of course John didn’t.  Pesky little brother.  “Well, h’as you h’appear to be trying to turn h’into a drowned rat, h’I’d say you need a nice warm drink h’and a change h’of clothes.”

“That’s the plan,” Scott admitted.  “I’ll see you later, Parker.”

“That you will,” the older man agreed, and Scott paused with his foot on the bottom step of the staircase.  “h’I’ll be bringing h’up some ‘ot chocolate for the pair h’of you in a few minutes.  ‘Onestly, what were you thinking, going h’out h’in the rain like that?”

Scott shrugged.  “John wanted to,” he said, before resuming his ascent of the staircase, knowing that Parker would make good on his promise and be up soon with the drinks.

The Creighton-Ward manor was huge, and the guest suites were equally so.  There was no sharing of bedrooms when they stayed overnight, but as Scott entered the room designated as his, he discovered a brother lounging on his bed, tablet in hand.  Ginger hair was ruffled and sticking up all over the place - a clear victim of a towel drying - and the soaked suit had been replaced by a much less formal shirt and jeans.

“Don’t you have your own room?” he asked, not breaking his stride as he headed for his overnight bag and pulled out a change of clothes.

“Parker’s bringing the drinks here,” John replied, not looking up from whatever it was he was reading.  “It makes more sense for me to be here.”  Scott huffed and worked his tie loose from around his neck.

“You just wanted to make sure I didn’t stay in the party,” he accused.

John didn’t deny it, and Scott rolled his eyes before heading into the ensuite to dry off and get changed into his more casual clothes.  No more formal suit and tie for him tonight.

When he re-emerged several minutes later, his own hair rivalling John’s for towel-dried mess and begging for another round of brushing and hair gel, Parker had arrived with the promised steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

“Drink up, the both of you,” the man demanded.  “Going h’out in the rain like that, I h’ask you.”  He shook his head despairingly.  “What will your Gran say h’if you go and get yourself sick?”

“We won’t get sick, Parker,” Scott said confidently, accepting his mug and letting the warmth seep from the ceramic into his fingers.  “We didn’t get that wet.”

“Don’t h’underestimate the English weather,” Parker warned.  “Drink that h’up and wrap h’up warm.”

John appeared silently at his elbow and claimed his own mug before retreating back to the bed.  Scott watched him burrow his bare feet under the covers and huffed.

“That’s my bed, you know,” he complained.  John lifted one shoulder in a shrug.

“So?”

“So, leave some room for me.”  Mug in hand, Scott settled himself next to his brother, nudging him over gently.  John obliged, and after a few moments of shifting around, the pair of them were sat shoulder to shoulder with their feet under the covers.

Parker eyed them approvingly, and then tossed a blanket over their laps as well.

“h’I’ll be back once the party’s h’over,” he told them.  “Keep warm.”

“We’ll be fine,” Scott assured him.  “You don’t need to worry about us.”

Blue eyes surveyed him suspiciously.  “h’I know some people that’d disagree with that h’assessment, Mr Scott.  But duty calls, h’I suppose.”

Parker was clearly reluctant to leave them for some reason, but he did begrudgingly go out the door, shutting it behind him and leaving the two brothers to their drinks.

The hot chocolate was, unsurprisingly, good, and Scott found himself draining the mug in record time.  Beside him, John was almost as fast, and they set the mugs down on the bedside tables almost in unison.

“Parker makes the best hot chocolate,” John commented, and Scott couldn’t help but agree.

“He does,” he agreed.  “I could go for another.”

“Well, then, I’m glad I finished mine before you got it into your head to steal it,” John said dryly.  “You can ask him for another one later.”

“Yeah,” Scott said, leaning back against the headboard of the bed.  “I might do that.  This might all be overkill-” he gestured at the warm mugs and the blanket, subtly tucking them in the bed “-but even if we’re not going to get sick, that chocolate is worth it.”

The sneeze came out of nowhere.  As did the second, and the third.

The fourth sneeze came from his brother, and Scott glanced over at him with a sinking feeling.  Bright turquoise met his eyes, and John gave a wane smile before sneezing again.

“I think,” his brother said, before being interrupted by another sneeze, “that maybe this wasn’t so overkill after all.”

Scott buried his face in his hands.  It did nothing to stop the next sneeze, and he groaned.

“You might be right,” he admitted.  “Dammit.  Virgil’s going to- achoo -kill us.”

John groaned.