#also!! a better view of my new haircut

[astroismypassion]

Astrology observations 🤍🤍🤍

Credit goes to my Tumblr blog @astroismypassion

It’s astrology tea time again! 😁

🤍🤍 Aquarius Moon women can end up being labelled as “too weird to date” by their partner. Their partner can view them as following odd, weird practices that they don’t resonate with.

🤍🤍 If you have Venus in the 10th house synastry overlay with a romantic partner, your or their parents highly encouraged this relationship, because you seem like you have similar values and believe in similar things. They might even help you two come together in a romantic union, like set you up, even try to arrange marriage.

🤍🤍 Aries Moon women can often end up being a part of a love triangle unknowingly or put through that by their favourite person. Like Selena Gomez (Aries Moon) with Justin Bieber and Hailey Baldwin Bieber. Or if you are familiar with Youtube/TikTok stars Eva Gutowski (Aries Moon) with Brent Riviera and Pierson. Or even Angelina Jolie (Aries Moon) with Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston.

🤍🤍 You can get bullied for things connected with your Sun sign and house. If you are a Gemini Sun, people who try to tear you down, might try to say you have fat fingers or hands that are too long, that you voice is annoying etc. If you have Sun in the 10th house (bones and teeth) people can see you have weird teeth when they are trying to insult you.

🤍🤍 Pluto in the 3rd house people often try to justify their opinion, view by stating where or what they studied/where they went to school. 😂 It’s like “no trust me bro, I studied law” with everything they say and try to justify.

🤍🤍 In Ascendant in the 8th house synastry overlay, you as the Ascendant person you will notice every little change in this person’s appearance, like a new haircut, but even little details, like they changed the colour of their leather watch belt etc. You will be perceiving all the little details about their appearance A LOT.

🤍🤍 Gemini Chiron and Gemini/Virgo Lilith are people who are most likely to falsify a family member’s signature at any point in life (not just as children), even as adults.

🤍🤍 Speaking of Gemini Chiron, these people get often “shamed” if they don’t own a car and use public transportation. If they do own a car, they are fans of car sharing as well.

🤍🤍 Sagittarius Part of Fortune people understand themselves better while teach a sibling/a friend/a parent/ a child something. Finally, they understand better how their mind works.

🤍🤍 8th house synastry leads to a lot of self-censoring. Like “I’m not gonna say this about myself or reveal this, because this person might think I’m weird”.

🤍🤍 6th house shows transition to adulthood. So how you were as a young adult. For example if you have Venus in the 6th house: you were patient and kind young adult.

🤍🤍 Taurus Venus wants a romantic partner that has similar personality, values and also lifestyle, so habits. And someone who works actively and hard to maintain a loving relationship. Because they are so stubborn to change, so they will not change for anyone’s sake.

🤍🤍 Gemini Moon or Moon in the 3rd house either doesn’t text with emojis at all or tries to tell a story with emojis only like: 🚴‍♂️🏔☀️😁

🤍🤍 Sagittarius Chiron and Chiron in the 9th house are all over the place. 😅 They lack direction, because of constantly doing a lot of things at once. Chiron in the 11th house also needs to learn to be alone. You guys learn independence and not relying on groups of people to fuel your confidence.

🤍🤍 Scorpio Vertex or Vertex in the 8th house people can be accused as being “too sexual” or “hypersexual” by their committed partner.

🤍🤍 I wouldn’t really say that your marriage partner will match your Juno sign with their Sun sign. Juno sign will represent their qualities and traits. I noticed often you can respond better to Vertex sign. So the sign of your Vertex can be the Sun sign of your person that you end up marrying.

🤍🤍 Juno sign though points to best trait of your partner. If you have a Gemini Juno, it’s best you pick the most talkative, communicative or intelligent person out of those you are considering. If you have Libra Juno: the one that is the prettiest out of the friend group. Capricorn Juno: the one that’s the most successful, has the best reputation or others admire them or look up to them the most. Cancer Juno: the one your mother would like the best or the one that resembles your mother the most or the one you see is the best family person.

🤍🤍 Aries Part of Fortune or Part of Fortune in the 1st house people have very unique personality, one of a kind type. That’s why they get new opportunities by just being themselves, because of a very distinctive personality. They also look to other people as though they have a solid sense of self and people make them a leader, because of that.

🤍🤍 Sun at 14 degrees (Taurus degree) people “transmute” or “transfer” a lot of their own self-loving, self-care energy onto their partner. So their partner becomes more confident and has better self-worth, because of trust and bond they have with the Sun person.

🤍🤍 Pisces Juno or Juno in the 12th house can dream of their future partner just before meeting them.

🤍🤍 Libra Juno or Juno in the 7th house on the other hand, will each time they might a significant partner, feel like their meeting is straight out of a movie scene.

🤍🤍 Capricorn Juno or Juno in the 10th house on the other hands will meet their partner in a group setting, usually when surrounded with friends too.

🤍🤍 Taurus Venus people often feel entitled to their partner, even when ending the relationship. There is this sense of “I made you”. They usually give status, attention, money, better style or confidence to pursue things to their partner, so they end up being “entitled” to them.

🤍🤍 17 degrees of any personal planet means profitable fame. You will be able to monetise being well-known in the community.

🤍🤍 Where you have Aquarius in your chart, there is where you too easily feel excluded from group gatherings. Aquarius in the 3rd house: might have not been invited to many group gatherings in high school etc.

Credit goes to my Tumblr blog @astroismypassion

[itzjaza]

Hi, I'm absolutely in love with your Taz fanfics, can I request one with Taz Headcanons as a boyfriend??

(Sry if my English is bad, it's not my first language lol)

girl don't worry abt your english it isn't my first language too<3

Taz Skylar as Your Boyfriend:

How you met: Y/N had just moved to Spain and it was her first day in high school. She was nervous about making new friends, but as she walked into her first class, she was immediately drawn to the boy seated next to her. His name was Taz, and he had bleach-blonde hair and striking eyes that seemed to pierce right through her. Y/N noticed that he seemed to be reading a book on philosophy, a subject that she was also interested in. She decided to make the first move and introduced herself to Taz. To her surprise, he seemed eager to talk to her, asking her about her interests and hobbies outside of school. Y/N was fascinated by Taz's intelligence and his knowledge of philosophy, and before she knew it, the two of them were having a deep conversation about the nature of existence and the meaning of life. As the class wore on, Y/N found herself getting more and more comfortable with Taz. She had never had such an intense and meaningful conversation with someone before, and the way he listened to her and challenged her thoughts was unlike anything she had ever experienced.

Realizing he's in love with you: Y/N and Taz had been friends for months, but Taz had never really thought of her as anything more than that. Sure, he had enjoyed spending time with her, and he had always thought that she was attractive, but that was as far as it went. But then, Y/N asked him to be her escort to the school prom, and the idea of spending the evening with her, in a more formal setting, made him realize that there might be more to his feelings than he had thought. On the day of the prom, Taz couldn't stop thinking about Y/N. He wanted to look his best for her, so he spent hours picking out the perfect outfit and getting a fresh haircut. When he arrived at her house to pick her up, Taz was nervous and excited all at once. He knocked on the door, and Y/N opened it with a smile. She looked radiant in her dress, and Taz felt his heart skip a beat. As they drove to the prom, Taz couldn't stop staring at Y/N. He listened to her stories, laughed at her jokes, and enjoyed every moment spent in her company. When they arrived at the prom, they found a quiet corner where they could sit and talk. As they talked, Taz realized that he had fallen in love with her. He didn't know how he had missed it before, but suddenly it all made sense. The way she laughed, the way she smiled, the way she challenged his views on life… everything about her made him feel special, and he knew that he couldn't imagine his life without her.

When he asked you out: It was a beautiful spring morning when Taz first mustered the courage to ask Y/N out on a date. He had been crushing on her for weeks, but he was nervous about taking the next step. He knew that Y/N was a smart, kind, and beautiful young woman, and he wanted to get to know her better. As he walked over to where she was sitting, in a little cafe nearby, his heart was pumping with excitement and anticipation. Y/N was surrounded by her friends, but he didn't let that intimidate him. He took a deep breath and approached her, his hands shaking slightly. Y/N looked up at him with a surprised expression, and Taz had to gather all his courage before he spoke. "Y/N, I was wondering if you would like to go out on a date with me," he said, his voice steady but somewhat strained. Y/N's face suddenly lit up with a smile, and she nodded her head eagerly. "I'd love to, Taz," she said, her voice filled with excitement. "I've been wanting to spend more time with you too." Taz felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders and a sense of relief washing over him. He had been worried that Y/N might say no, but she had been eager to spend time with him as well. It felt like he finally had a chance to get to know her better and hopefully, eventually, be more than just friends.

The first date: Y/N and Taz were both nervous but excited for their first date. Y/N had been crushing on Taz for so long, and she couldn't believe that he finally asked her to go out with her. Taz, on the other hand, was thrilled to finally have the opportunity to spend one-on-one time with Y/N. They decided on a classic dinner date at an expensive restaurant in the heart of the city. It was a beautiful spring evening, and the stars were shining bright in the sky as they walked to the restaurant. On their way, Taz couldn't help but notice how beautiful Y/N looked in her new dress. When they entered the restaurant, the atmosphere was classy and formal. They were seated at a quiet corner table, and it was the perfect spot for their first date. Taz took Y/N's hand and smiled at her. The conversation flowed easily over dinner. They talked about everything from their hobbies and interests to their favorite books and movies. As they ate the delicious food, Y/N couldn't help but feel a strong connection with Taz. He was funny and charming, and he seemed to genuinely care about her. After dinner, they went for a walk through the city streets, hand in hand. It was a romantic and magical evening, and they both felt like they were in a fairytale. As the night drew to a close, Taz walked Y/N back to her place. He couldn't bring himself to say goodbye, so he kept walking with her. And when they reached her door, he finally had the courage to kiss her. It was a sweet and gentle kiss, and Y/N felt like she was on cloud nine.

When he asked you to be his gf: There was never any doubt in Taz's mind that Y/N would make an incredible girlfriend. After spending several weeks getting to know her better, he knew that she was the one for him. He wanted to spend every waking moment with her, and he couldn't imagine his life without her by his side. So, when the time was right, he decided to take Y/N out on one of their favorite dates. They went to the top of the tallest hill in the city, and as they looked out over the lights of the city below, Taz took Y/N's hand and looked into those beautiful eyes of hers. "Y/N," he said, his voice filled with sincerity and adoration. "I think I'm in love with you. I've never felt this way about anyone before, and I know that I want to be with you forever." Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, but also with a small hint of joy. She had been hoping and praying for a moment like this, and now it was finally happening. Without thinking, she leaned in and pressed her lips against Taz's. "I love you too," she said, her voice shaking slightly. And with that, Taz knew that he had found his soulmate. He could spend the rest of his life making Y/N happy and building a life with her. She was everything to him, and he was everything to her.

How he is as a bf: Taz was a great boyfriend to Y/N, always there to support and encourage her. He was empathetic, understanding, and patient, and he always made an effort to understand her feelings and needs. He spent hours listening to her problems and offering advice, never judging her or making her feel bad. He made sure she knew that she could come to him with any issue, no matter how big or small, and he would be there to help. Taz was always there for Y/N, even in her darkest moments. He comforted her when she was feeling down, and he celebrated with her when she had a reason to be joyful. He paid attention to the small things that made Y/N happy, like picking up her favorite snacks from the store or surprising her with tickets to a concert she had been wanting to see. He made her feel special, and he made sure that she knew that she was the most important person in his life.

[runnning-outof-time]

Congratulations on the 3.5k followers again! You are such a loved member of this Peaky community, it really wouldn't be the same without you ❤️. From your prompt list I'm gonna go with the very last one, "I didn't get your name" and of course I will be picking Tommy 😉. Really looking forward to see what you come up with!

Thanks so much for the love, Brummie! I was secretly hoping someone would send this one in. I hope you like what I’ve done with it! I’m trying to get back on the horse after not writing for a bit - this one happened differently in my mind, but I just couldn’t put it to words….I hope it’s still alright though. Also I’m sorry if it looks silly with the same gifs going - I wanted to use the one you sent with your ask but the spacing looked weird without it under the title. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Part of my 3.5k celebration — find other stories here!

To Unbearable Parties…

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: drinking, language

Word Count: 1018

Summary: (Y/N) and Tommy both meet someone who makes the social function they’re at a little more bearable.

People sauntered around the room, going from group to group, discussing everything under the sun: from business dealings to societal crazes. Drinks were flowing and the band was playing an uptempo song that was good to dance to. No one batted an eye at anything that was happening, because that’s just what went on at these types of parties. (Y/N) absolutely hated it.

She stood in the outskirts of the crowd, her arms semi-crossed as she held a glass of champagne in one hand. Her eyes scanned the crowd, thinking of all of the places instead of here that she’d rather be.

Upon reaching the bottom of her glass, (Y/N) made her way over to the bar. She hoped that she’d be able to quickly get a refill so that she could return to the outskirts of the room again. The bar was situated too close to the middle of the room for her comfort.

She was just about ready to head back after receiving a new glass when she overheard the bartender speaking to the man on her right. “I’m so sorry sir, but we are not serving that here tonight.”

“Fuck sakes,” the man mumbled. (Y/N) easily caught the annoyance in his voice. “You mean to tell me that there’s not a bottle of whiskey here?”

“Not one,” the barman answered with a shake of his head, “we were given strict instructions by Mr. Marshall to have only champagne and other light refreshments in order to make sure that there is not a repeat of the last year’s gala,” he then explained the reason behind the absence of stronger liquor.

The man pressed his palms against the bar, leaning against it before he nodded, “I’ll have a glass of champagne then,” he conceded, speaking like he’d lost a fight.

“I’ll get that right away for you,” the barman nodded, quickly getting to work on fetching the man his drink. “Here you are,” he said once the drink was ready. The man nodded once, accepting the glass before he turned and rested his back against the bar.

“It’s actually pretty good, you know,” (Y/N) couldn’t stop herself from speaking.

“Excuse me?” the man questioned her, turning to face her as he spoke. There was no hint of any sort of anger present in his words. He just hadn’t heard what she said.

(Y/N) got a better look at him now, and upon being given a front facing view of his harsh haircut, she concluded that he was one of the only people who could make it work. Her eyes got stuck on his sharp, blue ones. So stuck that she forgot he asked a question.

“The champagne,” she blurted out, hoping that he didn’t catch her staring, “it’s not a go to of mine, but has been pretty good this evening,” she added, raising her glass to show him she’d been drinking the same.

The man only tipped his head upwards before he brought the glass to his lips, drinking a good amount of the alcohol in one go. “Not bad,” he commented as he sat the glass down on the bar.

(Y/N) only offered a small smile before she offered a silent parting, leaving the bar to go back to the edge of the room. She went back to surveying the room; watching all of the other partygoers enjoy themselves. Why am I even here? she wondered, maybe I should just leave. But before she could, a familiar face approached her.

“You’ve been over here all night,” the man from the bar commented as he approached her.

“You’ve been watching me?” she questioned him, quirking an eyebrow as a smile teetered on her lips.

“No,” he quickly shook his head, “just haven’t noticed you anywhere else.”

“So you’ve been looking for me?” the smile was fully present on her lips now.

The man let out a breath of a chuckle, looking to the floor for a moment. He liked the quick-wittedness of this woman, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t had her stuck in his mind since their interaction at the bar.

“You don’t seem to want to be here,” he said once he looked her way again.

“I could say the same for you,” she turned it right back on him, biting her bottom lip as she held his gaze, “you seemed to be rather frustrated at the bar earlier.”

“This isn’t enough to get me through the evening,” he commented, holding up his fourth glass of champagne to show her what he meant.

“I hear you there,” she smiled softly, nodding her head in agreement.

“I didn’t get your name,” he said then, his eyebrows raised slightly as he awaited her response.

“It’s (Y/N),” she smiled as she gave her answer, looking him up and down then. “I didn’t get yours either,” she stated, her eyes finding his once more.

“Tommy,” his answer was simple. (Y/N) nodded, committing it to memory. She was certain that she wouldn’t be forgetting this man any time soon. “Well, (Y/N), how about a toast, eh?” he suggested after a few moments had passed.

“What are we toasting to, Tommy?” she asked, trying his name out for herself; liking the sound of it coming off of her lips just as much as she liked the sound of hers coming off of his.

“To unbearable parties,” he announced, holding his glass up, winking as he did so. (Y/N) didn’t miss the way that his eyes trailed over her frame as he spoke.

A grin formed on her face, loving the feeling of his eyes on her. Maybe this party wasn’t so bad after all. “To unbearable parties…” she started off, biting on her lip to conceal her grin as she clinked her glass with his, “to unbearable parties that become bearable enough when you find someone to spend the night with,” she added, letting her grin show as they both brought their glasses down to take a drink from them.

To unbearable parties, indeed.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @youtifulsunshinelixfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[spotsandsocks]

In my defence I was left unsupervised M 1.3k

Buck gets bored and decides on a new look, he may have doubts about the end result but Eddie’s having thoughts, interesting thoughts.

Eddie Diaz might be many things but a convincing liar is apparently not one of them if Buck’s expression is anything to go by. Regardless of the doubt plastered all over his friend’s face Eddie tries again to make Buck feel better.

“It’s… not … that bad?”

“Not that bad?”

Technically they’re the same three words but the tone and therefore the meaning couldn’t be more different. Buck’s incredulous, his face conveys the message Eddie must be dumb or blind or possibly both.

“Not that bad?!”

Buck repeats himself and turns back to stare into the mirror on Eddie’s wall sighing heavily.

“What the fuck was I thinking?”

Buck runs a hand over his head then closes his eyes in distress.

It’s actually quite a sensible question so Eddie repeats it.

“What were you thinking?

That’s fair question right? Eddie decides it has to be because it’s only natural to query the dubious decision making skills of one Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley at the best of times and especially when he seems so distressed by the results of his life choices.

Eddie studies Buck, who’s studying his own reflection with a frown. It certainly is a change. Eddie had definitely been a little taken aback when Buck had walked in 5 minutes ago but now the shock is wearing off there is actually something quite… he redirects his thoughts quickly.

Buck still hasn’t given his reasons for the alterations to his appearance so Eddie rephrases the question.

“I mean… why… ??” his words trail off and he just points with a finger at the relevant area of Buck.

The answer manages to be both ridiculous and entirely plausible. If you know Buck, which he does.

“Because I was bored.”

The noise he makes is entirely involuntary. Honestly, Eddie can’t be judged for the amused and exasperated sound that escapes. Buck does these things to himself. Still staring at his own reflection the man in question adds,

“You know, in retrospect I don’t think bored people should be left unsupervised with scissors.”

The grim declaration is so ridiculous Eddie has to swallow down the urge to laugh because really only Buck would cut all his hair off on a whim.

“It’s so short.” Buck’s voice is a plaintive whine and his blue eyes crinkle in distress.

He’s right obviously, it is extremely short; not quite an army level buzz cut but not too far off. Eddie will miss the curls but on the other hand the longer he looks the more he’s having thoughts and from his point of view it really isn’t “that bad”. Quite the opposite. Sometimes you have to face facts; Buck’s just too damn attractive for any haircut to be truly bad.

In fact the more he studies Buck’s image in the mirror the more he likes it.

The severity of the style adds something to his features. The angles on his face have become sharper which in turn make his lips seem fuller. He’s more….Eddie considers his options and settles on rugged, as the right word, with sexy coming in in second place. Also for some reason Buck’s eyes look bluer and have become far more piercing.

There must be a draft somewhere because a slight shiver runs down his spine as he keeps staring at Buck staring at himself.

It would probably feel good too, under his fingertips. Soft and kinda fuzzy. He can just imagine Buck closing his eyes and sighing in pleasure if he did reach out and scratch through the soft strands of hair.

Continue on ao3

[morlock-holmes]

I found it surprising to be told that the trans feeling described as "gender euphoria" is a feeling that happens independently of other people and is almost wholly unrelated to the responses of others people to your gender expression; first, on the grounds that a lot of the trans acceptance movement focuses on changing the image that cis people have of trans people, but more importantly, on the grounds that the cis, heterosexual conception of gender heavily involves other people validating your own conception of your gender, and complements involving masculinity or femininity are highly sought after and cherished by your typical cis het person.

Of course the flip side is that cis people also vigorously deny that their own gender expression is in any way based on outside validation, even though I am incredibly confident, based on everything I have ever seen, that getting outside validation is tremendously important to the whole thing.

In fact, validation might be the wrong word here.

I have a profound, boiling anger at the current dominant conceptions of human nature in the US, which I would sum up as something like this:

"Each person has, inside them, a true identity. The goal of a humane society should be to remove restraints and allow them to express this pre-existing identity, rather than forcing them to conform to the expectations of outsiders."

And what I've observed in amazement is the way that, in a world of nearly 8 billion people, each profoundly different and mysteriously remote from the rest, the vast majority of true inner natures just happen to express themselves as fairly homogenous clusters of culturally legible "types" who tend to act with a great deal of agreement both with each other and with certain dominant social movements.

After talking with a lot of people I have found that the consensus is that this is simply a bizarre and wholly inexplicable coincidence that has no particular meaning.

The problem I have with this world-view is not that it is conformist; in fact my frustration is almost the opposite:

Because the idea of communication is reduced down to the idea of expression, the question of "How do I communicate better?" becomes very nearly completely incomprehensible to the people around you.

Communication is just a happy side effect of the fact that our true inner selves are so legible and easy to categorize. You express your true self according to your own inner sense, and this makes you inherently legible to others.

In concrete terms, I spent probably decades trying to feel more confident about my profound aversion to eye contact before I realized that people respond better to people who look them in the eyes while feeling deeply uncomfortable then they do to people who are super confident that eye contact is just not for them.

In broader terms, most autistic people have a great deal of trouble figuring out how to have a "filter" without feeling like filthy liars.

And in a certain way this is the problem that our society in flux faces:

How do I make myself legible to others without feeling like I have betrayed my own inner feelings by subordinating them to the wishes and needs of others?

And the broad answer is to conceive of that process of making yourself legible as a natural part of your true inner nature.

My true inner nature is to not tell my friend point blank that her new haircut looks way worse than the old one. This diplomacy is the instinctive expression of my inner nature and whether or not it makes it easier or harder to make friends is, of course, completely incidental.

So you can't tell people how they "ought" to talk if they want to be understood, because being understood is not a goal that people pursue; it is an incidental side-effect of expression.

Here's where I'm starting to wear out intellectually but my experience has been that in practice this does not make communication easier or less fraught but in fact in many ways has the exact opposite effect.

Well, here is one example, which is the focus on eliminating "stigma" as one of the most important social goals. To live in a society that neither stigmatizes nor understands you is a profoundly, crushingly lonely experience.*

This also creates in society an autistic sense that taking joy from getting people to respond to you in a certain way by tempering your internal self to make it more legible to others would be monstrous or manipulative, rather than (in certain cases) admirable.

To go back to trans politics, this has created a political climate where the idea that certain people might find it easier or more fulfilling to live as a different gender is considered obviously incorrect and borderline offensive (Again, flashbacks to my tremendous frustration with "born that way" narratives); that a person might learn to be another gender and that this might not be a revelation of a pre-existing nature but instead might be a becoming or act of self-creation is outside the mainstream:

Transphobes and Republicans actually take it for granted that one might, in fact, learn to be trans, but the only conclusion that they can draw is that this learning would be a deeply negative thing; they openly conceive of it as society imposing a role on vulnerable people who must instead be allowed to express the innately cis nature that the Republicans are certain lurks in literally every autistic child (And their stated belief that gender dysphoria exists but absolutely never co-exists with autism continues to perplex me).

In response to this, the dominant counter-narrative is that, in fact, the vast vast majority of trans people are, in fact, correctly expressing their innate inner natures and must be allowed to do so.

And I'm really not sure to what extent this is correct.

Nietzsche, at least in Beyond Good and Evil does not concretely define "power". The will to power is the desire to have "power" but this is not understood as simply a domineering impulse to use force to make people do things against their will; to convince people is, I am fairly certain, also an expression of the will to power (And I'm even more certain that kvetching about my own loneliness is also an expression of the will to power).

So when I wonder if trans expression can be understood through the will to power I mean that, to a certain extent, to be comparable to my own efforts to explain myself and the pleasure I will feel if others understand or are intellectually stimulated by what I am saying here, contrasted to the profound frustration I will feel if people do not understand. * this loneliness is almost impossible to explain to people, because the dominant idea is that understanding is the inevitable result of a society that has eliminated "stigma" and allowed people to express themselves freely.

[taesclub]

The Wild Child, Act I ✦ BTS

✦ BTS x Fem! Oc's

━━━━━ ( SYNOPSIS. ) She is suddenly forced to attend the all-girls boarding school, St. Victoria's. Determined to break free, she tries to escape. Her only problem? To do so she must go through the neighboring boarding school and its notorious group, the Bangtan boys. Among them, one member captivates her the most, blurring the line between rebellion and romance.

genre. boarding school au, angst, fluff, smut

word count. 4,586

warnings. only curses for now

-ˋˏ masterlist ✦ next ˎˊ-

ACT I.

━━━━━━━━━ ✦ 

Claire, a tall girl with an eighty's aura and a shag haircut, sits in the passenger seat of her father's car, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The car hums with tension as they drive down the road, the passing scenery reflecting the girl's inner turmoil. She was about to meet her doom.  

She gazes out the window, her expression a mix of anger and frustration. The weight of her resentment hangs heavy in the air. 

“I can't believe you're making me go to some stupid all-girls boarding school, Dad. This is so unfair!” she grimaces. This had been her constant complaint ever since receiving the news, but somehow, like a broken record, she still held onto those words, praying it would be enough to make her dad rethink his decision. It wasn’t.  

Her father, Mr. Deschamps, a middle-aged man with tired eyes due to his rushed businessman life, glances at her with a mixture of concern and regret. “Claire, we've talked about this. It's a better opportunity for you. You'll have a chance to focus on your studies and discover new interests.” he insists softly.  

Claire scoffs, her frustration boiling over. 

Her voice sounds angry as she replies, “Better opportunity?! What about my life here? My friends? You're ripping me away from everything I know!” 

Her father's grip tightens on the steering wheel, his tone laced with remorse. 

“Claire, honey, I didn't make this decision lightly. It's for your future. You'll make new friends, and have new experiences. Please try to understand.” 

Claire's gaze remains fixed on the passing scenery, her umbrage simmering beneath her rebellious exterior. “You simply don't get it, Dad,” she says resentfully as the view keeps changing dramatically into a more rural area. “You don't know what it's like to be uprooted from everything familiar, to start over in some stuffy boarding school.” 

Her father's voice softens, laced with a tinge of sadness. “I know it's hard, honey,” he admits sincerely. “But sometimes, we must make sacrifices for the greater good. Trust me, I only want what's best for you.” 

Claire's anger doesn’t wane, even though she is tempted to soothe at her dad’s words. “Change can be scary, but it also opens doors to new opportunities.” he continues, tenderly. “You're strong, Claire. You'll adapt, and who knows, you might find something incredible out here.” 

Her gaze shifts from the passing greenery outside to her father's warm and understanding eyes. She takes a deep breath, slowly releasing the pent-up frustration. There was no point discussing this with him, he would never back up on his word. And the truth was, ever since he got together with that Malibu Barbie wannabe called Blanche, this was destinate to happen. She had waited for the rug to be pulled from under her feet as her distrust in life itself was a rooted injustice carved deep in her heart, but now that it happened, she tried desperately to hold onto a shimmer of hope.  

And how tricky it was to expect, to wait for someone else to take the reins of one’s life... No one would come and save her, that was clear. So why not save herself? 

“Sure thing, Dad.” Claire mumbles resigned. At least for now.  

A bittersweet silence fills the car as they continue their journey, both aware that this new chapter holds challenges and possibilities that neither can fully anticipate. The beginning of a plan to escape the boarding school, however, started to thread like a lightning bolt in the girl’s mind. 

She would make sure no one would see it coming. And one thing was certain, Claire Deschamps would never settle into a life in the middle of nowhere, nor a life she hadn’t chosen herself.

━━━━━━━━━ ✦ 

Claire steps out of her father's car, her jeans bomber jacket with wide shoulders and lots of sewn trinkets contrasting greatly with the more conservative uniforms of the other students passing by. Their plaid skirts had at least two full hands more fabric compared to the black leather one she used.  

She takes a deep breath, bracing herself for what lies ahead. Mr. Deschamps opens the trunk, retrieving her suitcase and opening space for two employees to try and lift the big chest full of stickers that also belonged to Claire.  

“Here you go, honey.” He hands the lush green suitcase to her. “I hope you find… Some great things here.” 

She takes it, grudgingly. “Don’t be so disappointed when I don’t.” 

Her father shows a sympathetic smile on his face as he pauses to take in what she had just said. “I understand, Claire.” He opts to say. “Take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything, okay?” 

Claire nods, unable to hide her lingering resentment. Her father gives her a last reassuring smile before driving away. 

As she sees the Rolls-Royce disappearing on the dirty road, the Headmistress Winters, a stern and composed woman in her fifties whom she had already seen printed on the flyer advertising the school, approaches Claire with an air of authority. The disapproving expression that she wears only exacerbates Claire’s dislike for her furthermore.  

“You must be Miss Deschamps, our newest student,” the woman says, inspecting her closer. “I trust you had a pleasant journey?” 

To that, Claire rolls her eyes discreetly, her guard already up. “Oh, joy,” she mutters under her breath.  

Putting on a polite facade, the Headmistress takes a step further, “As you know, I am Headmistress Winters. Your father and I talked on the phone. Welcome to St. Victoria’s Academy. Here we expect our students to uphold the highest standards of discipline and academic excellence.” She waves her hand in a high class and fluid motion, introducing the grand structure of the school behind her.  

There is a moment of silence as Claire fights the urge to scoff, her skepticism apparent. 

“Sounds like a real party,” she mutters dryly under her breath.  

Headmistress Winters's eyes narrow not catching what the girl has to say, however, judging by the lack of excitement on Claire’s part and her many years of experience when it came to building character, she maintains her composed demeanor. She knows a troublemaker when she sees one.  

With thinly veiled annoyance she adds firmly, “Respect and compliance are expected from all students, Claire. You'll find that St. Victoria’s Academy offers numerous opportunities for personal development and camaraderie. I suggest you keep an open mind.” 

Claire's expression remains guarded, her disdain for the headmistress palpable the more words fell from her mouth. Her tone is pure cynicism as she answers. “Sure, Mrs. Winters. I'll keep an open mind while I'm here.” 

Begrudgingly, she follows the older woman through the school's grand entrance, the imposing architecture and hushed conversations heightening her unease. 

The Hall of Entrance in the all-girls boarding school exudes an air of elegance and tradition. Polished marble floors stretch out beneath the students' feet, reflecting the soft glow of the chandeliers that hang overhead. Tall, arched windows line the walls, allowing sunlight to filter in and cast a warm, inviting glow on the surroundings. 

As Claire steps into the hall after the Headmistress, she is greeted by a flurry of activity. Girls in crisp uniforms pass by more eagerly than the ones she saw outside, their eyes darting to and fro, their hushed whispers carrying snippets of gossip. The hall becomes a stage for both fellowship and rivalry, as cliques form and dissolve with each passing moment. 

The sound of clicking heels and rustling skirts mingles with the gentle murmur of conversation, creating a symphony of feminine energy. Some girls walk with confidence, their heads held high, while others seem more reserved, their eyes darting nervously as they try to find their place within the social hierarchy. 

Portraits of past headmistresses and notable alumnae adorn the walls, their stern gazes reminding the students of the institution's legacy and the high expectations placed upon them. Some peak Claire’s attention. One of the spaces in particular, the one dedicated to the sports league, shows boys’ teams and trophies they earned against them, but she can’t find the right moment to ask what it is about as Mrs. Winters walks like a thunderstorm.  

The aroma of freshly polished wood and the faint hint of perfume linger in the air making her curiosity calmly dissipate, creating an atmosphere that is both refined and pansy. 

A grand staircase, its banisters intricately carved, leads to the upper levels of the school. It serves as a focal point, drawing the eyes of the girls as they ascend and descend, their interactions playing out on the stage of the hall. 

Claire becomes acutely aware of the watchful eyes as she makes her way through the bustling crowd, trailing the steps of Mrs. Winters. Some girls shoot her curious glances, sizing her up and speculating about the newcomer. Whispers trail in her wake, snippets of conversation filled with intrigue and speculation. 

Mrs. Winters then suddenly turns to face her once more, revealing behind her shoulder line a girl who matches Claire’s height, with bangs and a cascade of hazel hair. The girl’s warm and open expression contrasts greatly with Claire’s defensive demeanor.  

Noticing Claire’s disinterest, Mrs. Winters starts, “Let me introduce you to your new roommate, Claire. She’ll help you settle in.”  

Extending her hand politely and rather excitedly, the girl before her greets, “Hi! I'm Ella. It’s really nice to meet you!” 

Claire reluctantly shakes Ella's hand, her guard still up. Frustrated by the already lack of choice on her end she mumbles, “Yeah, hi.” 

Headmistress Winters nods curtly, signaling the end of their interaction. “Miss Dubois, why don’t you show Claire to your dormitory and explain how things work around here? I was in the middle of a rather urgent matter when she arrived...”  

Without missing a beat, Ella promptly nods, understanding the task at hand. “Sure thing, Headmistress. Follow me, roomie!”  

The newfound nickname makes Claire hiss internally like a cornered cat, but she plays the part, thankful to finally get herself rid of the Headmistress's presence.  

Before the two of them can walk further away, Mrs. Winters dismissively points again, “Very well, off you go. Make sure you familiarize yourself with the rules and expectations of this institution, Miss Deschamps.”  

Claire raises an eyebrow, her rebellious spirit flickering to life. “I'll keep that in mind, Headmistress,” she replies defiantly, turning her back to the woman.  

Leaving the bustling hall and the scrutinizing eyes of the older woman, Claire turns to Ella, a sense of complicity forming between them as she notices how much more relaxed her new guide seems to be.  

Smiling, Ella reassures her. “I promise this is not all as daunting as it seems.”  Claire takes a deep breath, her apprehension giving way to a glimmer of hope. She follows Ella, ready to navigate the challenges of this new environment, determined to find her place amidst the rules and expectations she so vehemently resents. Who knows?, she thinks, maybe her new roommate can give her an escape route without even noticing. She could be escaping St. Victoria’s much earlier than she had predicted.

━━━━━━━━━ ✦ 

Claire wasn’t convinced if Ella had what it takes to be her newfound ally. The headmistress seemed to trust her enough which made her either valuable to the plan or a stone in her shoe. Although Claire was pending more to the former since the girl seemed very friendly as they kept a light conversation and she led the way through the bustling hallways. More often than not, the veteran would gush about her own friends as she vibrantly pointed to Claire how their day-to-day was, and for moments, more than to seek intel to architect her plan, the brunette found herself momentarily forgetting about her purpose as she got infected by Ella’s contagious energy.  

Their footsteps echo softly as they step onto the serene patio, where blooming flowers and neatly trimmed hedges create a serene oasis within the school grounds. The sound of laughter and animated conversations drifts through the air as girls gather in small groups, enjoying moments of respite and fellowship. 

Claire’s eyes scan the scenery, and they get caught in the ruckus three girls are making right by the center fountain of the patio. The one standing in the middle, a blonde with a high ballerina bun, dances excitedly as she flashes a knitted scarf to her peers. “You think JK will like it?” Her voice travels through the open space as she points specifically to the initials engraved in it.  

Noticing Claire’s mind is far away from whatever she is saying, Ella leans closer, whispering, “That’s Vivienne for you,” she chuckles as Claire’s glance shifts quickly back, “Everyone calls her Vivi and you’ll soon hate her too, trust me.”  

To that statement, Claire’s eyes return inquiring to Ella’s, her nose scrunching in doubt.  

“You see, she delusionally believes she and some trouble boy are meant to be. We’re all tired to hear about it, or witness moments like this.” Ella points with her head to the blonde once more. “There she goes, making him a scarf he won’t probably use. Tell me about waste of time!”  

Claire mildly snorts entertained, looking at the scene as well. “Poor girl.”  

“Oh, believe me!” Ella exhales, walking away and her roommate follows, “That one is nothing of the sort. Imagine Regina George in real life. That’s her, right there.”  

In a lack of response from the brunette, Ella gestures towards a row of benches shaded by a grand oak tree. ”Anyways, this is our patio, Claire. It's the perfect spot to relax and soak up some sunshine during breaks. And see over there? That's the canteen.” 

The delicious aroma of freshly cooked meals fills the air as soon as they step closer to the precinct. Girls line up at the serving counter, chatting and exchanging stories as they eagerly await their turn. The room is alive with vibrant colors, with posters and artwork adorning the walls, adding a touch of creativity to the space. 

“We refuel here, obviously.” Ella glances excited to see Claire’s reaction. “The food is surprisingly good, and there's always a variety of options to choose from… Well. When the boys don’t join, that is. They can be savages.” she chuckles nonchalantly. 

Suddenly Claire’s eyes perk with curiosity. Every bit of information she had gathered about the school before arriving said this was an all-girls academy, but then again, there were existent photos of boys displayed in the hall. Not to say Vivienne’s parade a second ago. Do they have a day off?, she muses, Could this be an opportunity? “What do you mean boys? Isn’t this an all-girls school?” she voices her thoughts as Ella takes the lead again, taking her on another stroll.   

The energetic roommate greets some girls that pass by them with a sympathetic smile before returning her focus to the newcomer beside her.  

“Well, yeah. The Alarie boarding school for boys is right across the river, and we often have classes together. You know, lack of teachers in the far countryside.” she shrugs. 

Before she can inquire further, Ella is already distracted, smiling at the passersby.  

“With Jimin? Again?! God, what’s her secret!” They hear a girl gasp to a friend as they crossways.  

Oh. I see..., Claire’s thoughts put the pieces together. She quickly looks at the hazel-haired girl making her company.  

By the raise of eyebrows that she gives her and the flicker of frolic that flashes in her eyes, Ella is quick to warn, “It’s strictly forbidden to hang out with them boys, Claire. No smogging. No funny hands.”  

“But she just-” Claire refuted pointing behind her shoulders to the girl that passed by sharing her indignation a bit too loudly.  

Ella gave her a warning yet laid-back glance, “Alright, people go on with it in secret but as you can see, nothing is really a secret around here. And then when you least expect it, bam! You’re in trouble!”  

“Are they at least hot? Or I don’t know... Worth the trouble?”  

Ella thinks for a second and then shrugs with a naivety Claire knows to be fake, “How would I know?”  

“If you say so!” Claire pretends to salute dramatically, a bickering well read by the other as to the current square state the Academy insisted on following rules. And so, Ella pulls her to a quick jog entertained, and a bit tempted to show her new roommate she also knew how to break a few of them. Even if the rules she was breaking weren’t as grand as Claire deemed them to be. The students passing by confirmed the thought as they judged their behavior, and Claire laughed even louder at their tedious conformism. The rule about not running in the hallways was true indeed.  

As they arrive at their shared dormitory, their footsteps grow softer as they enter the hushed ambiance of the living quarters. The dormitory is a cozy space adorned with tasteful decorations, featuring two neatly made beds, desks adorned with books and personal touches, and small corkboards for photos and reminders. 

Ella jumps to sit on her own bed, bouncing on the mattress as she does so. “And here we are,” she gestures. “Our humble abode. It may not be the biggest, but it's home.” 

Claire looks around the room, a hint of curiosity dancing in her eyes as she imagines the memories that will unfold within these walls, even if for brief moments. Ella seems a nice girl, but she won’t be around to discover much more about her. She needs to escape this. Her real friends await in the big city.  

“Yeah, it's not bad…” 

Ella grins with the comment, her warmth shining through. 

“We'll make it cozy, you’ll see,” she says encouragingly. “Plus, you still have to meet my girls! They are rooming right in front of us. It’s great to share stuff and to keep gossip in day!” She laughs at her own behavior.  

As Claire sets her suitcase down and begins to unpack, a bit aloof to her roommate’s words, a newfound sense of optimism fills the room. To Ella is the beginning of a new friendship, even if her roommate was a hard one to crack. But she was patient, everyone had their personal time after all. To Claire, it is a journey through a path she had never charted before, but her father was right about one thing---she is strong. And she will prevail.  

“We’ll meet them in a few!” Ella continues, snapping Claire out of her thoughts, “They went to pick up your uniforms for you.”  

Claire eyes her with gratitude, showing for the first time a smile, even if timid, and her roommate mimicked the action. Only hers was as big as her enthusiasm for finally having a friend to share her bedroom with.  

Still sitting by her bed, Ella watches as Claire takes only her toiletries out of her green suitcase, as well as a portrait of her and what the girl gathered to be her mom. The tall wild child discards the pouch with her cosmetics by the bed, as she walks toward the bedside table, closely placed to the window, adjusting the portrait on top of it. Her clothes, still inside the suitcase, didn’t seem important and were left forgotten still inside it, untouched. Or so Ella thought so.  

“Your mom is beautiful,” she comments gently, looking at how Claire’s eyes seem to hover with longing at the picture.  

The brunette opens a small smile, thanking her roommate almost in a whisper, eyes still glued to the image of her mom. How she missed her.  

And then suddenly a loud pang interrupts the moment, making her jump and Ella scream. Startled by the sudden impact of a ball against her bedroom window, she had fallen back onto her bed, her heart racing. She swiftly rises and storms towards the window again, fueled by annoyance and ready to unleash her frustration on the culprit responsible. 

Seething with anger, Claire flings open the window of her dorm room on the second floor, ready to give the culprit a piece of her mind. Ella knees on her bed to look at the indicted herself. “Shit.” She manages to say.  

Claire’s words, however, catch in her throat as she locks eyes with a boy she has never seen before, and taking by Ella’s reaction beside her, it was clear that wasn’t her case, her roommate knew him.  

His mischievous grin and charismatic presence immediately captivate her, and a flicker of curiosity replaces her initial anger. Still, she stands her ground and through gritted teeth, she lashes, “What's your problem?!” 

Both girls watch as he brings casually one of his hands to shield his eyes from the sun, his smile gleaming with amusement. 

“Oh, I apologize, princess,” he says charmingly. “You weren’t supposed to-” he trails off, “Well, I wasn’t looking to make an impression on you but now…” he considers, his smile doubling the size.  

Claire tries to maintain her composure, but there's an undeniable pull towards the Alarie’s boy that she can't ignore. 

“Impression?” She scoffs slightly flustered, “If it’s at being stupid, you've certainly succeeded. Who are you anyway?” 

The boy takes a step closer toward the shade of the tall building to see her better, a playful glint in his eyes as he keeps looking up chuckling at her response.  

With a smirk, he replies. “You didn’t hear of me? I'm Jungkook,” he says as if it explains a lot, with a smugness that makes Claire crazy to punch out of his face. “I go to the Alarie’s, right next door.” 

“JK!” another boy shouts from a distance, and Claire’s eyes travel to the field to meet the face of Jungkook’s peer. A group of boys is joyfully hanging out there, waiting for him.  

As her eyes turn back to him, standing beneath her window, with a raised eyebrow, Jungkook says with yet another chuckle, “You never told me your name.”  

She sneers, “And I won’t.”  

Despite her refusal, Claire can't help but feel a certain curiosity pull toward Jungkook. His confidence and charm leave her intrigued, even if she tries to deny it or finds it too brazen. 

Jungkook sends another intrigued look her way, a hint of mischief in his voice. 

“Don't worry, princess. I’ll find it soon enough.” that answer only makes her blood boil further. “Besides, life's too short to be boring, don't you think? I like the mystery.” He shrugs with a smile, picking the rugby ball that was fallen by his feet, and starting to walk back. He turns once again to see her reaction, raising his voice as he adds, “And tell your rat roommate that the next one is meant for her!” He lifts the ball in his hand as if he raised a toast. 

“I'm not fucking interested in your idea of excitement, Jungkook. Save your charm for someone else!” She shouts defiantly but he only laughs in response, now fully turning his back and jogging swiftly toward his friends.  

She can't help but watch his back and carefree stance, even if Ella’s presence is made heard by her side. Under rushed and muted curses, the girl gets up from the bed, initiating an anxious breakdown as she paced back and forth inside their bedroom.  

Claire’s gaze finally moves away from the window to fall upon her roommate’s state. “Not that it’s any of my business, but... You wanna talk about it?” she asks, gaining no response apart from a full stop on the pacing and Ella’s hands coming to a desperate grip on her own locks.  

“Ella!” Claire calls her, closing the distance between them, “Hey, what’s going on?” The change of attitude of the girl was so brusque from her previous joyful self that it got her worried.  

She gently touched her shoulder, and Ella’s eyes finally found her own. “I’m totally, completely, fucked.” She confesses finally.  

“What happened? Is it about this Jungkook guy?”  

The hazel-haired girl gives her a nod and Claire’s eyebrows knit together. She manages to inhale, ready to question further but they are interrupted by the cheerful tinkle of shoes and greetings.  

“We got it!” It’s what she hears as she looks at the door to their room that had been left open. Two girls enter the space, both shorter than Ella and her. They look excited, probably having fun on the way there.  

“Hi! You must be the new girl,” The shortest one says, giving her a cordial smile. She has her long honey-blonde hair held back by a bow. “I’m Lola, this is Avery...”  

“And this is your uniforms!” While Lola has a royal aura to her, somewhat restrained and charismatic, Avery seems more upfront and girly. Her hair is like coal and so glossy that it shines hues of dark blue in the light.  

Taking the folded clothes from her hands with a smile of her own, Claire introduces herself. “Thank you, I’m Claire. And you really didn’t have to do it-” 

“It’s totally fine, we wanted to!” Lola insists bubbly, waving off, and the brunette smiles thankful.  

The blonde walks her way toward Ella’s bed, familiar enough to sit on it as she grabs a pillow to hug as she did so.  

“Girls. He knows.” To Claire’s relief, Ella finally enters the conversation. “I hate myself!” She adds, grunting.  

She notices how the other two react fervently to the comment as she places the pile of uniforms on top of her bed, ceasing to be the focus of their attention. They look at Ella with staring eyes, clearly on topic but still indignant about the rest of the information that still doesn’t come.  

“What do you mean he knows?!” Avery is the first to question. “How would he know? There were no boys in class that day...” 

To which Lola quickly made a comment with a nudge at her waist, “I told you there was! Louis, remember?”  

At the same time, Ella explained. “Now Jungkook sent a stupid ball flying up the window on purpose. After my head of course!”  

While Claire looked from one to another trying to unveil the situation, both Avery and Lola unleashed a series of wroth exclamations, to what Ella took part in instead of actually providing a clearer explanation.  

“I’m sorry.” Claire interrupted. “But can someone situate me here? What does this Jungkook know? And why is it a big deal? I’m lost.” She had a notion she was being brazen as she wasn’t close to the three friends before her, but not a couple minutes before she had witnessed a boy sending a warning in the shape of a rugby ball to her roommate. If this was to continue while she stayed there, she needed to know at least the basics.  

Avery and Lola look from her to Ella apprehensively waiting. So this is mildly important, she thinks. And then the latter sighs.  

“I wasn’t completely honest with you about the boys’ part...”  

To that statement, Claire slowly realizes that there may be more to this school than meets the eye, and consequently, more that she needs to unravel to make her flight seem a mystery. Glancing out of the window, Alerie’s boarding school for boys is starting to feel like a needed pit stop, as it stands tall between St. Victoria’s building and her much-wanted freedom.

✦ TAGLIST.

send an ask in if you want to be part of it or comment down below.

[findmeinthefallair]

I know this is a stupid question but what hairstyle does Hunter look the best with? 🙄😋

Def not a stupid question at all!

I think it's quite subjective and it depends on the person, because his different hairstyles could mean different things to each individual.

It might be a hot take but I personally like the mullet the most (sorry, haircut-that-goes-with-the-famous-watermelon-sweatpants T_T). But it overtakes the others only by a little bit. I guess it's coz each style was so wonderfully effective for his design changes, wordlessly telling us what could be going on in that mind and heart of his. Visually he's just so well-designed and engaging.

After thinking about it for days, I don't dislike any of the styles at all. His supposedly professional-looking default haircut that Belos would've wanted to maintain...his exploration of just letting it grow out before he had the panic attack in front of the mirror...but also the short one and mullet...I like them for different reasons.

Even with Belos making his hair lengthen while possessing him, to better resemble Caleb...the wild look of the mullet goes damn well with the wolf T-shirt design, in my opinion. I think I view it this way because of @idlescree's vid essay here (link) (please watch all of their amazing Owl House vid essays :D), which remarks that the wolf symbolism on his new T-shirt...is related to wild-ness, and him being able to bite the hand that feeds instead of remaining an obedient lapdog.

Many of us wondered why he kept the long hairstyle by the time we got to the epilogue, growing it out again (after he got Willow to cut it again, as stated by Dana in her last Twitch stream not too long ago). He grew it out again except it was more wispy and carefree-looking, and: he didn't cut the silly anime hair noodle this time.

My rationalization for him choosing to have this kind of hair again is that he made a personal choice, on his own terms, to keep the memory of Caleb and the other lost grimwalkers alive. Honouring the lives they lived, however brief.

[brandyllyn]

Lucky Stars

Ezra x GN!Reader 

Summary: “And are you a good man?” “I like to believe myself a man of good intentions.” Words: 3.3k.

My Masterlist

Rating: Teen. Warnings: None? Canon injuries.

I asked for some inspiration and Jen came through with “A kiss for luck” with Ezra. Also, I’m like 80% sure I stole an Oscar Wilde joke in here somewhere.

The first time you met Ezra was coincidentally your first time out on the sling. As the drop engineer, your job was to oversee the operations of each drop ship. To ensure ships weren’t dropped into the same flightpath and to time out the release to be sure that all ships could make it safely to their destination at whatever planet was below.

You’d worked a few of the inner rim planets already - mostly dropping pleasure cruisers onto sunny tropical paradises you could never afford to visit. But the money was crap and the competition was almost always the nephew of some contractor who needed a place to stash their busted ass relative.

The long-haul flights paid bank. Mainly because no one wanted to spend spans at a time out on the circuit. The time, however, suited you just fine.

Your work station was central to the shipyards, a view of all forty-eight pods docked for this trip available between sightlines and video feeds. It sat a few feet above where the corridors came together. Visitors weren’t uncommon, a few credits slipped into your hands to get a better place in the drop zone or to get picked up first on the trip back.

You didn’t handle pickups but their chits spent all the same.

All that is to say that when a shaggy mop of brown hair with a blonde tuft popped into view just below your desk you weren’t surprised. The Green was coming up - a mining planet that had been attracting people from across the eight reaches for some time now - and you’d already had three people asking for advice or information on where to land, where lodes might be and whatnot.

“Well I’ll be,” his soft drawl crawled up to you. “You’re a damn sight better looking than Old Rodge was.”

Checking your monitors once more you leaned forward, giving a smile to the man standing on the platform below your workstation. Handsome, recently groomed - probably his last haircut for a while - and wearing a faded set of work overalls.

Definitely not his first sling.

“What can I help you with, sir?”

“No need to stand on formalities, starshine, we’re all friends here.”

Cocking an eyebrow you gave him an appraising look. “Friends huh?”

He nodded solemnly, taking a step up onto a cable buttress and settling his forearms on your desk. He wasn’t quite eye to eye but it allowed you to lean back in your chair a bit. “I think it would be a singular pleasure to be counted as your friend.”

“The first three drops are locked in.”

His eyes narrowed and he cursed. “Do you think my attentions are so mercenary?”

“Oh, were you just saying hi?”

“Hello. Bonjour. Nǐ hǎo.”

“Ezra.”

Both of you looked at the man coming down the corridor, although your companion’s face was far more disgruntled.

“What?”

“Did you get us a new drop slot?”

Your lips twitched and the man who could only be Ezra turned back to you with a sheepish shrug of his shoulders.

“It is possible that I arrived with an ulterior motive, starshine, but it is only secondary to meeting you at this point.”

“Prophet’s nutsack,” his companion grumbled, shoving at Ezra and forcing him to step down from his perch. A hand appeared, dropping a small array of chits in front of you. “What’ll this get us?”

You glanced over the pile quickly. “Fifth.”

“I thought you said the first three spots were spoken for?” Ezra cut in.

“I did.” With a sweep of your hand you palmed the chits, tucking them into your own work overalls. “If you want better than fifth it’ll cost more. I already moved you up a spot for being cute.”

Ezra preened, mouth opening on what you were sure would be a lovely soliloquy about your charms but you cut him off with a quick jerk of your head to his partner - who was paying no attention to you at all.

Giving a mock huff of indignation Ezra bowed, sweeping his arms out and adding a roguish wink.

“Until we meet again, starshine.”

The second time you met Ezra was another drop-off, four sling rotations later. Yours wasn’t the only sling working the route, each pass taking months to complete.

“Missed you on the pickup, starshine.”

Frowning you pushed your chair back, leaning around the edge of your pod to see who was standing at the step up. When it didn’t spark any recognition for you he pouted.

“Do not tell me you have forgotten me so quickly - such disregard is likely to drive a man to commit acts of singular madness.”

You may not have remembered his face but the voice was impossible to forget. That particular cadence and slow drawl. Giving him a grin you motioned him to step up and he did, finding a place he could perch and nearly look you in the eye.

“An invite into the inner sanctum? I am honored.”

Snorting you flipped a toggle to realign a drop pod. “That is my outer sanctum at best, cowboy.”

He grinned in return. “And yet sacred nevertheless.”

“What can I help you with?”

Another pout. “I seem to remember you doubting my motives on our last meeting as well, starshine. Have I really made such a poor impression on you?”

“Miners only ever want three things. Stone, stim, or-” you cut yourself off, shifting your eyes away and pretending to be busy with a screen he couldn’t see.

“I beg of you to finish that sentence, starshine.” His eyes were glittering with mischief, the corner of his lips twitching up. You shook your head and he laughed. “Well seeing as I am on my way to find stone, and I do not partake of the stim, I suppose all that is left is the…. presence of a lovely companion.”

“I bet you say that to all the crew.”

“A blow!” A hand flew to cover his heart. “You are whatever a moon has always meant - and whatever a sun will always sing is you.” At your confused frown he sighed, “You are not a connoisseur of poetry I suppose?”

“There once was a man from the rim…” you started and he laughed.

“A person of refined taste,” his brown eyes twinkled at you. “A connoisseur of a much maligned art form.”

You couldn’t help your answering smile. “You have any luck?” He raised an eyebrow and you clarified, “On your last run, to the Green. Any luck?”

A heavy sigh. “A few small stones, barely enough to make the run worth it.”

“And yet you’re going back,” you pointed out.

“Ah, but I have a new crew. And a special charm for luck.”

“Oh?” Your eyes caught on an alert and you cleared it absentmindedly. “What kind?”

“Why, an utterly captivating dropship engineer.”

A snort escaped you before you could stop it. “I seem to recall seeing you off to your last drop as well.”

“Ah, but I came to you then with questionable motives.” He spread his hands wide, showing you open palms, “Now I am but a supplicant, worshiping at your altar and hoping for your favor.”

“Do those lines really work on people?”

A casual shrug, “They don’t not work.”

Your console gave a beep and you nodded at it. “Gotta take that.”

He nodded in return. “Until next time, starshine.” He hopped down and started away as you reached for the button and then paused.

“Wait.”

He turned back, a bemused look on his face. “Yes?”

“What was your name again?”

He made a small bow. “You, my dear, may call me whatever you’d like.” You rolled your eyes and he grinned. “Ezra, starshine, my name is Ezra.”

“Ezra,” you tried the name out and his grin deepened. “Interesting name.”

“Well I like to think I’m an interesting man.”

The third time you met Ezra you could not really be said to be meeting him per se. You recognized him and remembered his name so it was really more of an acquaintanceship renewal than anything.

“Ah for you are yet the symphony of the stars.”

You couldn’t help the smile at the sound of his voice, turning to see him waiting patiently at the edge of your work pod. You motioned him and he bounded up like a man half his age, finding a place to stand where he could perch a hip on the edge of your desk. He looked positively smug and you couldn’t help a laugh.

“Hello Ezra.”

His grin was wide, a new scar cutting across one eye. “starshine you are as captivating as always.”

“I take it you had a good trip?”

The Green was a few spins behind you, the last pickup locked in as the sling made its way to its next destination. You didn’t really need to be at your station, but you liked getting a head start on the landing patterns.

“A fruitful conquest,” Ezra was saying, his fingers tapping on one thigh. “Enough to whet a man’s appetite for more.”

“That good, huh?”

“I could certainly treat you in the style to which you are accustomed.”

You glanced around at the dirty workbench, the ancient equipment, your ragged overalls. “Low bar.”

“And one I am happy to clear.” His cheerfulness was contagious, eyes bright even with the sharp red scar cutting through one. You wondered if he expected you to ask about it.

“You sticking to the Green then?”

He shrugged, picking at one nail. “I have a new crew and some ideas as to a new excavation, although I suppose you’d have more information than me about that.”

Nodding you reset a fuel calculation. “Someone found a motherlode, went back to the Ephrate for supplies last I checked.”

His attention was suddenly fully on you. “Is that so, starshine?”

“Mmhmm,” you pretended to ignore his intense scrutiny.

“And is the location of the lode information you might be willing to share?”

“Well,” you tapped a button and glanced sideways at him from under your eyelashes, “that would depend.”

“A share I take it?”

You snorted. “Like I could ever hold you to it.”

“Ah,” he demurred, “you have not had much experience with good men I take it?”

“Out here,” you gestured at the ship, “I’m lucky to find mediocre ones.”

The tips of his fingers briefly touched the back of your hand before he pulled away. “The good man watches our bogus roses, our rank wreath.”

Another quote from someone you didn’t recognize. “And are you a good man?”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I like to believe myself a man of good intentions.”

“Yet you’d rob some unsuspecting miner?”

“That my dear starshine is just good business.” He looked so affronted you had to laugh. “And a business opportunity for us both.”

“Aurelac.”

He paused, head cocking, considering you. “How much?”

You cupped your hand a little. “Just one, yay big. And I’ll drop you dead center of the guy’s camp.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me would you, starshine?”

You gave him your most innocent expression, fluttering your lashes for good measure. “Who, me?”

The gem was plopped onto your desk without ceremony, the messy head of distinctive hair soon following.

“I likely would have gifted you this for a chance for your company, starshine.”

It was a little bigger than you’d asked for, the center a beautiful gold that caught even the dim lights of the ship. With barely concealed awe you cupped the aurelac in your palms, feeling the warmth that naturally emanated from it.

“Are you serious?”

He’d stepped up, leaning on your desk. “Were you?”

You pointed at the holo of the planet, “Just north of there, about five clicks. Like I said, I can set you down dead center.”

“And you say there is a bounty of gems there? Just how much is a bounty?”

Carefully wrapping the aurelac into a kerchief you tucked it safely inside your shirt. “The guy was going back for a crew of six, so enough he didn’t mind sharing.”

Ezra nodded thoughtfully. “A worthwhile venture then. And you are sure you do not require a cut?”

“I got mine.” You patted your chest, noticing how his eyes lingered on your chest for a moment - as though imagining what was beneath. “‘Sides, I might never see you again.”

“Surely the universe would not be so cruel.” He clutched a hand over his heart, giving you a pleading look.

“Do you annoy Laquon with your attentions when it’s not me here?” you asked, mentioning the drop engineer working one of the other slings.

“Laquon will not speak to me,” Ezra replied. “Not since the night I took half his wages in a sharps game.”

“Did you cheat?”

“You wound me!”

“That’s not an answer.”

“No, I suppose it wasn’t.”

The console beeped, announcing you were moving into orbit around the Green. “You should go get your crew ready.”

“Ah, a too quick end to our lovely repast.” He leaned towards you, eyes bright. “A kiss for luck, starshine?”

Giving him a nudge with your foot you shooed him away. “You make your own luck Ezra.”

His amused chuckle stuck with you for some time to come.

It was the last of the day’s pickups at the Green and you were absolutely not supposed to be working. Pickups weren’t your job, drop offs were. You’d already let a dad and his kid down yesterday - two people you were sure you’d never see again - and they were the only people dumb enough or desperate enough to take the trip down to the Green on the last sling.

The last sling ever.

It felt odd, the end of an era. You’d spent the better part of five orbits on this route. The Green, Delphi VI, an asteroid that had a long string of letters and numbers but the miners just called Dave… pit stops and drop ships. The sling’s crew of nine would be dispatched to new routes. You were planning to take some time off - maybe back to one of those paradise planets for a bit.

Yesterday’s drops should have been it. No more work. Just hanging out in your too small bunk while you dreamt of how to spend the credits you’d been saving up.

But that was without the alarm. Or the Captain’s voice on comms.

“Bay 26 has an emergency beacon on.”

Groaning, you punched the intercom. “How is that my problem?”

“Janus is down with whatever flu he caught from the last scrapyard we were at. I need you to check on it.”

With a grumble you knew the mic would pick up you grabbed your pants. “Fine, but I wanna be paid.”

“Yeah yeah,” the intercom cut out and you squeezed out of your bunk to the hallway beyond. Bay 26 wasn’t too far, and there was a shortcut through the anterior cooling room. You moved a little faster than you might have let on to the Captain. It was an emergency beacon, although odds were it’d been hit by accident or was a malfunction.

“Occupants of pod 438-Alpha, are you in distress?”

You waited while the door to the ship sat silent.

“Occupants of pod-”

A face appeared in the window and you yelped. Young, blonde… the kid who’d dropped yesterday. She tried to get the door to open but the safety mechanism held it in place.

“You have to decontaminate,” you told her through the speaker. “Unless it’s a medical emergency you-”

“He’s dying!” she shouted back, hand scrambling at the controls on her side and suddenly her voice boomed through. “He’s sick and I think it’s infected. You’ve got to let me get him to medbay.”

“What kind of infection?” You tried to ignore her frantic movements. The safety of the crew came first. If they had picked up a virus or something you wanted nothing to do with it.

“His arm,” she was making an effort to sound calm. “He got hurt but it’s infected. He needs antibiotics.”

That didn’t sound too bad. Fairly normal - not like some alien chestburster. “Are you sick?”

“No, it’s just his arm.” Her eyes met yours through the tempered transparisteel. “Please, he needs help.”

You weighed your options. The Green was considered a toxic planet, requiring a decom before disembarking. But it was because of something in the air that could stick to clothes. People lived down there with minimal protections. Worst case you’d have to take some antihistamines.

That was assuming this infection was what she said it was.

“Into your suit,” you announced through the door. “And get him into his. Neither of you breathe our air until I can check you’re not contagious. Deal?”

The girl nodded emphatically and disappeared. A few moments later her head popped up again, covered by a helmet. You could see the edge of someone leaning heavily against her.

“Please.”

Regretting it already, you punched the override code for the door. Practicing an abundance of caution you stepped away quickly as they stumbled out. “Follow me to medbay. No sudden movements. Nothing comes off until I give it the all clear. Got it?”

The girl nodded and you led them down the narrow corridor as quick as they were able to pace you. Her dad was in bad shape, head hanging down as he seemed to concentrate on walking. He wasn’t as put together as the last time. Something must have happened to his suit on the Green and he’d scavenged a new one.

“C’mon, just a little further,” you heard the girl encouraging him.

The medbay was empty, no surprise, making it easy for you to find a spot for the girl to set him down. “I have to make sure you haven’t brought anything on board,” you told them, gesturing for her to join him near the scanner.

“I wouldn’t dream of bringing you anything but jewels, starshine.”

Your head jerked around, meeting his slightly hazy gaze. “Ezra?”

“In the flesh,” a sigh and a groan, “such that it is.”

You picked up speed. Not that you’d been dawdling, but your hands began to fly over the controls, waiting until you got the green light before rushing to his side and helping the girl remove his helmet. “What in the seven seals happened to you?”

“A small accident,” he sat up with your help and you pushed his suit down to his waist. A soft curse made you stop and re-evaluate.

“Ezra,” you asked as calmly as you could, “are you missing an arm?”

“A minor inconvenience.”

“Prophets balls,” you muttered, turning away to find the anesthetic. “How long ago?”

“A spin?” He cast a look at the girl and she seemed to be trying her best to not look guilty. “Maybe less.”

“Okay, well, this is going to hurt.” You didn’t wait for his reply, setting the hypospray to his shoulder and injecting it. He hissed through his teeth and then relaxed.

“Much better, I thank you starshine.”

“We’re not out of the asteroid belt yet, hand me the scricorder?” You gestured and the girl handed it to you. It made several alarming noises as you put in a small sample of Ezra’s blood.

“I believe I did warn you of this, starshine.”

Working on autopilot you gave him a quizzical look. “Warn me of what?”

“That something dreadful was going to befall me.”

You rolled your eyes, inputting the medications needed into the replicator so it could spin you up the cocktail you needed. “I seem to recall you being quite cheerful about your prospects last time I saw you, Ez.”

“I believe I did inquire as to some spare luck, however.” The man was an unrepentant scoundrel, twinkling at you even as he fought not to sway from the drugs in his system.

“Are you suggesting that if I’d kissed you you’d still have an arm?”

“I suppose we will never know,” he shrugged. “But I must insist before I go anywhere else that you indulge me in my superstition. Losing one arm can be chalked up to tragedy - two reeks of carelessness.”

A full laugh burst from you as you readied his meds, setting the hypospray to his neck and pulling the trigger. “I’ll tell you what. You come through this all right and we can have a whole conversation about luck. Over drinks. How does that sound?”

“Well that sounds mighty fine, starshine. Mighty fine indeed.”

For updates on stories please follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

Tagging in Jen specifically though for coming through with the inspo:  @writeforfandoms​

[awesome-normal-heroes]

If you don't like Lumity, how do you feel about Catradora and Rednid? 030

Well...

I don't truly ship any of these...

But I prefer Lumity over Catradora and I might prefer Rednid over Lumity...

Why?

Well for Catradora, Catra tried to destroy the world and she tried blaming Adora for it happening (thankfully, Adora calls her out).

As for Rednid, I prefer it over Lumity because they handled Red Action's story arc a bit better than Amity's, in my opinion.

You see, Red and Amity were both jerks at first.

Red:

After her own team viewed her as an enemy over a mistake and getting a terrible haircut, Red and her new friends go out of their way to be jerks to people.

Red and her jerky friends play a mean prank on KO (who only wants to help them) and then Red posts it online.

Despite this, KO forgives them and still helps them... KO's compassion and courage weirds out Red, but she does become a better person because of it, that she (and the rest of the plaza) later helps KO fight a giant robot.

Red treats KO decently from then on.

Red then begins her arc with Enid.

And her arc ends with Rad, who holds a grudge against Red for how she treated KO at first, including the online post, which everyone acts like it never happened.

When Enid and KO learn the truth, even Enid knows that what Red did was messed up (while KO looks back at the memory fondly for some reason) and Enid praises Rad for thinking about KO.

Then Red goes back in time to her past self, to prevent KO's prank video from ever being posted and she talks about how deeply she regrets it, thus Red and Rad get along now.

Amity:

*She was best friends with Willow, until her parents told her stop and be friends with stronger, richer and jerkier witches.

She allows her new jerky friends to pick on Willow and Amity sometimes would make fun of Willow as well, when Willow's abominations aren't working (her parents didn't tell her to do this).

And this happened for years, until Luz arrived to pretend to be Willow's abomination.

*Amity is angry that she's no longer the best student and yells at Willow, then Amity tries to get Luz dissected with the principal's help (it probably was a fake dissection, but it was never clear)... Amity tries to attack Willow and Luz with her abominations, while Willow uses her plant magic to fight back...

Later Luz meets Amity again and brings up how Amity tried to dissect her, which Amity ignores and insults Luz because of her lack of magic... Then when King trips and loses one of his cupcakes, Amity steps on it on purpose, causing Luz to challenge Amity to a witch's duel...

They also have a bet where if Luz wins Amity has to apologize to King for stepping on his cupcake and say that humans can be witches, if Amity wins Luz has to say that humans can't be witches and give up on training with magic forever and then Amity casts a handshake hex for extra measure... If you ask me, it's kinda unfair that Luz lose would lose a lot more if Amity wins; Luz should've said that if she wins, Amity can't be mean to Willow and King ever again...

During the duel, Amity smiles while she attacks Luz...

Then when after the duel and both girls learn that their teachers (Eda and Lilith) were cheating during the battle, Amity was upset that her teacher made her a cheater and runs away... Luz finds her and Amity takes her anger out on Luz... Amity talks about how hard she worked to be the best student and become part of the emperor's coven, then gets angry at Luz for not taking being a witch seriously and tells Luz to confess not being a true witch...

Luz reveals that she is working hard to be a true witch and shows off her light powers to Amity... Luz earns Amity's respect and Amity breaks their deal... Amity walks away and Luz returns to her friends...

Amity never apologizes to Luz or King for her actions...

*Later, Luz learns that Amity and Willow used to be friends, but Amity ditched Willow when Willow didn't have strong magic yet...

Despite learning this, Luz reads a book about a hero befriending an enemy and wants to do that with Amity...

Amity works at the library and tells Luz to leave her alone when Luz tries befriending her... Then Luz befriends Amity's older twin siblings instead and they play pranks on the library... Luz and the twins sneak back at night to play more pranks, then the trio find Amity's diary to show the embarrassing pages to the school tomorrow... But Luz is against the idea and tries to put the diary back... Luz learns that she and Amity both love the same fantasy book series...

Amity walks in outraged at the trio, calling the twins the worst, while calling Luz a bully...

Seriously?

She has the nerve to call Luz a bully?

Why does Luz want to befriend this girl again?

Luz runs after Amity to make amends, then the girls both defeat a corrupted book character...

Amity takes back calling Luz a bully and admits that she hasn't been the nicest witch either and she will try to work on it...

A proper apology to Luz for all her cruelty in the previous episodes would've been nice, but it's better then nothing I guess...

*Amity does slowly become nicer to Luz after the library episode...

But during the Amity episodes, both Luz and the cartoon seem to temporarily forget that Amity was still Willow's bully and ex-friend, which leaves a bitter taste in my mouth personally...

Until the episode where Amity accidentally burns all of Willow's memories and both she as well as Luz have to enter Willow's mind to restore them...

Luz doesn't even stay mad Amity for long, despite burning Willow's memories aka the person that is supposed to be Luz's first friend AND best friend....

Amity even has the nerve to later be angry at Luz for trying to convince Amity to talk about her past with Willow...

Then the Angry Inner Willow appears and tries to burn Amity, but Amity reveals the truth about her parents forcing her to stop being friends with Willow...

Keep in mind, Luz was befriending Amity BEFORE she learned about this truth, so Luz was baiscally trying to befriend Willow's bully because she read a character from her book befriending enemies...

Which makes Luz not a great friend to Willow...

Amity apologizes to Inner Willow, saying that she was too weak to be her friend and promises to protect Willow from Boshcha from now on...

It's ironic that Willow gets an apology for the bullying, yet Luz never does despite being Amity's love interest...

*Amity does protect Willow and later Luz from Boshcha for an episode...

However, they don't hang out again, unless Luz is involved...

Amity slowly becomes so obsessed with Luz, that it sometimes feels like she doesn't care about anything and anyone else unless it's Luz-related... By the time of Season 2, when Amity gets her hair dyed purple (like Luz's shirt), Amity became Luz's blushy number 1 fangirl... Amity lost most of her personality and doesn't even have her own dreams or goals anymore...

At least Red Action and Catra still have personalities...

At least Enid and Adora usually keep their backbones, when their love interests are being jerks...

The same can be said about Princess Bubblegum, when Marceline gave her a hard time...

Luz seems to lose her backbone, whenever Amity is angry at her...

No wonder Luz trusted Hunter instead of Amity with her Belos Secret...

But at least Lumity didn't go through any cheating and love triangle nonsense, like Korrasami did, I will give them credit there...

Anyway, my point is they could've handled Amity's character and the Lumity Story a lot differently...

Because whether you like Lumity or not, you gotta admit that Willow deserved better then constantly getting ignored like that...

[terminatorbuns]

Revisiting Shiver's role in Splatoon 3 (An addendum to "Frye is the new Marina")

This is an addendum to "Frye is the New Marina", if you have not read that, please do read it first for context.

A side note first, I've since been informed that Splatsville might be visually inspired by Kowloon, which places it in Hong Kong rather than Japan. This is pretty interesting because it would reframe the Japanese Shiver as also an immigrant, but since Hong Kong is still East Asian she passes much more easily as a native than Frye's much darker South Asian complexion. Frye and Shiver's respective relationships to their race is still mostly unchanged.

Apart from that, I realized that I omitted one other detail about Frye and Shiver in my previous essay that didn't seem significant at the time, but I've come to reexamine its importance. I'll readily admit to having a Frye bias but examining Frye and Shiver as a duo really helped me understand Shiver better and discover reasons to like Shiver, and I've come to the conclusion that I've seriously underestimated Shiver as a character.

I previously said that Shiver should have a gender narrative and be trans or non-binary, and I still stand by that. Shiver displays the signs of a gender struggle and it would be extremely meaningful to a lot of people to see Nintendo do a gender narrative for Shiver. I thought at the time that it would put her on par narratively with Frye, who has a compelling set of traumas and anxieties stemming from her status as an obvious racial minority, compared to Shiver who passes as the majority culture much more easily. However, I've since come to realize that there's another angle to both idols that needs to be discussed, one that gives Shiver a much more compelling role in the design philosophy of Splatoon 3. In fact, the journey to understand Shiver's character has become uncomfortably personal for me in a way that I could not have expected.

1. Opposing Views on Heritage

The one detail I forgot was Frye and Shiver's opposing views on their cultural heritage. Frye had the most struggles with her heritage growing up, but ironically she ends up embracing her upbringing more closely than Shiver. With the new interview we now know that Frye was too busy with dance recitals to make any friends, but Frye ultimately ends up embracing her family's dance techniques whole heartedly and reproducing it faithfully as part of her personal fighting style. Despite struggling to fit in with her small town East Asian community Frye keeps her country bumpkin accent and takes up banditry to give back to the same community that could not accept her. It's in this way that Frye's specialty as a villain shines the most brightly: Frye embraces struggle and loss and recontextualizes them into her strengths.

Shiver is the opposite in every way. Shiver learns a regal theatrical accent to hide the fact that she originates from the same backwaters town Frye is from. Shiver's clan has already changed their older tradition of shark slaying once to shark taming, but Shiver breaks tradition even further by adopting a deranged biker persona and putting motorcycle handlebars on her shark. Shiver dresses extremely unconventionally with a punk fade haircut, visible Sarashi bindings that have connotations with crime and delinquency, and very low cut torn pants. In comparison, Shiver's expression of her heritage feels much less faithful to tradition.

Part of the discrepancy in their personalities is due to the fact that Nintendo is a Japanese company, their audience is more accustomed to Japanese visuals than South Asian. Frye's South Asian aesthetics are inherently exotic and exciting when reproduced more faithfully, but Shiver's traditional Japanese aesthetic needs more modification to be interesting to a Japanese audience. An unfortunate side effect is that Frye feels objectively cooler than Shiver: there's a genuine strength and purpose to Frye's passion for South Asian culture while Shiver's presentation of Japanese culture feels somehow less sincere.

And yet, as I wrote the earlier drafts of this I felt myself drawn more to Shiver than Frye, which took me a little bit  by surprise. It begs the question, what does Shiver stands for, and why would people be drawn to Shiver over Frye? I found that I had little canon lore left to explain my feelings, but it gave me the realization that the tools to understand this must come from my own personal experiences. And so, I'd like to share some of those experiences with you, the reader.

2. Struggling with Tradition

My relationship to my cultural background is complicated. I am an East Asian immigrant in North America, but I was lucky enough to live in areas that were friendly to my demographic. I had a multicultural group of friends and was rarely bullied for my ethnicity.

I say this because the vast majority of my personal anxieties come from my OWN culture and upbringing. I remember a distinct pressure to fit in and not cause trouble, and I was good at it, but I also remember how much it confined my artistic growth until I left the house to be independent. I remember a general unease towards artistic expression in general, the idea that cartoons and games are for children and I should be spending my energy on math and science. I still hide my art from my parents to this day.

I remember, most of all, a grating, xenophobic distrust towards other cultures, and the subtle yet consistent suspicion that anything I did wrong was a result of outside influences. The idea that my progressive politics was a corruption of "Westernization" just because it went against traditional, conservative culture. The often unspoken, but sometimes spoken, fear that my multicultural friends are influencing me negatively through their different cultural upbringings, when those same friends helped me discover my artistic voice in the first place. I remember accusations being made against other POC, some of which are more vulnerable than I am. I remember accusations specifically towards friends LIKE FRYE.

This was the point my analysis into Shiver took a deeply uncomfortable, personal turn, as I started to see my experiences in Shiver. Shiver, who also feels the need to hide a part of her personality that can only be shown to her accepting and diverse friend group. Shiver, who excels at passing for "normal" in a community that is friendly towards East Asians, but has witnessed that same community ostracize the darker, South Asian Frye. Shiver's loose presentation of Japanese culture starts to remind me of all the ways that I myself struggle to celebrate my own culture openly and faithfully, because I've come to associate so much negativity and baggage with it. Through this lens, Shiver's behaviors no longer seem like flaws, but rather defense mechanisms that I have too much experience with.

Now, I have no reason to believe that the original creators of Splatoon 3 had ever intended Shiver to convey such a specifically detailed cultural narrative. What is instead undeniably true is that Shiver ended up representing my experiences in a way that Frye could not on her own. I had previously understood the narrative of Splatoon 3 through a Frye-centric point of view, the huge Frye fan I am, but I am starting to understand that it is an incomplete analysis without considering Shiver's perspective as well. Shiver's role in Splatoon 3 is simply too important to be diminished.

3. Understanding Shiver as a Rebel

For me, Shiver has come to represent a rejection and reinvention of tradition. I've come to realize that what I had thought to be Shiver's weakness could actually be the core of her strength: her refusal to replicate Japanese traditions exactly. As much as she likes Japanese traditions and presenting like a traditional Japanese girl, she's also the first to put an unconventional spin on everything. Her punk hair, her Sarashi wrap, and her motorcycle shark, all symbolize this. Also, the fact that she wears her shoes on Tatami mat stages (the audacity).

As I said previously, a purely traditional Japanese aesthetic would be boring for a Japanese market, so Shiver's design has become an inherent struggle against tradition and normalcy. Shiver wants to be anything but normal, anything but boring. This puts her in direct contrast to Frye, who ends up being the traditionalist of the pair. Frye even has a preference for traditional analog forms of performance like stage plays while Shiver gravitates towards the newer medium of television.

Shiver's friendship with the culturally different Frye and Big Man is, in itself, a departure from tradition. Frye does not have the conventionally attractive TV features for an East Asian audience, but Shiver wants Frye to be on TV. Big Man can neither dance or sing, but Shiver wants him to appear on stage. Shiver's Rakugo specialty is a solo act, but she's modified it to include both of her close friends so they can be on TV together. I would also suggest that this has a special meaning for Frye specifically, whose personality and skin tone has caused her the most difficulty with fitting into a polite, East Asian coded society. As much as Shiver likes traditional Japanese culture, Shiver has taken steps to avoid replicating Japanese culture in a way that would exclude the exceptionally vulnerable Frye: Shiver refuses to hurt Frye.

This understanding of Shiver ties in well with her perfectionist tendencies. From the new interview we now know that Shiver made Big Man revise Anarchy Rainbow 7 times, she's picky to say the least. However, song lyrics are not the only thing she intends to perfect. Shiver's not content with cultural traditions the way they were taught to her: she's searching for ways to enhance her artistry, but she's also searching for ways to include her multicultural friends in her art forms without harming them.

Ironically her experimental perfectionism is also a weakness: reinventing safe, established traditions is inherently risky and Shiver has some hilarious failures to show for it. Shiver's villain persona is a take on the Bosozoku biker gang subculture of the 80's, also Japanese but notably a criminal counter-culture in Japan's history and a far cry from Shiver's usual polite, civil presentation. It's more than obvious that the biker persona is outside of Shiver's comfort zone, as she becomes clumsy and manic in a way that severely undercuts her ability to be a genuinely intimidating villain like Frye. However, Shiver's failures are entertaining and charming in her own ways, and her willingness to fail in the pursuit of perfection is uniquely inspiring.

4. Contrasting Shiver and Frye

Frye's still my favorite member of Deep Cut: she's peppy and likable, and her design tells the story of a cultural underdog that's extremely sympathetic and easy to root for. She doesn't have to represent my specific personal experiences to be my favorite. That being said, I think I now have the tools to understand the ways that people might find Shiver to be more appealing.

Shiver holds a lot of symbolic power for people that struggle with family and heritage, having seen those things harm either themselves or their friends. Even at a surface level many fans have already noticed the way that Shiver defies basic gender and social norms in her visual design and have found a sense of attachment to that. For people like me, Frye's fearless optimism towards her cultural roots isn't always helpful because I don't want to replicate those cultural traditions the way I have learned them. I'm deeply scared of accidentally replicating the hurtful aspects I've been taught to associate with my cultural heritage in a way that will hurt my friends. I want the inventiveness required to change my traditions into something more positive, and the courage to sometimes fail in the attempt. Shiver passes for "normal" in a society that easily accepts her, but that doesn't make her less interesting than the underdog Frye. Shiver speaks to a set of very real cultural anxieties that is just as compelling as Frye's, and both of their perspectives are required to complete the core narrative of Splatoon 3.

Splatoon 3 is a narrative about many things, but the most compelling narrative of this game is the dual commentary on cultural heritage that Frye and Shiver represent together. Frye is the cultural misfit that wants to be normalized, that wants her culture to be accepted despite being different. She represents an optimistic sense of traditionalism, one that sees the positives of traditional artistry and the value they can bring into the future. Shiver is the culturally normative girl who craves change, who is easily bored of rigid traditions and is eager to reinvent the past. She represents a healthy skepticism towards tradition, one that sees the dangers of harmful traditions but believes in the opportunity to change them into something healthier. The two perspectives form a symbiotic relationship: Shiver helps Frye to imagine a world where the dominant culture changes to be more inclusive of Frye, and Frye helps Shiver identify the positives of Shiver's traditions that should be retained in Shiver's quest for cultural innovation. It's a powerful, mutually-beneficial relationship that helps both artists visualize and achieve their respective artistic goals. It's beautiful.

I would do more to justify Splatoon 3 as a narrative focused on cultural heritage, except I don't actually have to because Nintendo straight up TOLD US their intentions in game. There's a key piece of cultural context in the original Japanese text that is lost in the English localization that really clarifies the design philosophy behind Shiver, Frye, and Splatoon 3 as a whole. We have to discuss the Bankara movement.

5. Bankara

I've written about this before but Splatsville is named Bankara city in Japanese, in reference to the specific Japanese Bankara counter culture movement of the early 1900's. Bankara was created in direct opposition to the Haikara movement, which was a fashion and cultural movement caused by Japan's rapid modernization and Westernization at the time, represented by western style "high collars" (Haikara). Inkopolis is called "Haikara City" in Japanese, in reference to the hip Western style Streetwear and music that previously defined Splatoon. The Bankara aesthetic mostly consists of traditional Japanese garments, kimonos and geta and such, the least Western stuff possible, to signal a discontentment with Japan's assimilation into Western aesthetics. At the same time these clothes were worn in a ratty, disheveled manner to signal a discontentment with traditional Japanese culture as well, as it had allowed the rise of the Haikara movement in the first place. A rejection of the new and the old. Later successors of the Bankara aesthetic include the Bosozoku biker and delinquent aesthetics, which consists of school uniforms worn in deliberately disheveled styles, fused with traditional Japanese elements such as Sarashi wrap and geta (sound familiar?). 

Shiver and Frye's entire city is named after Bankara so of course this duo is themed after the Bankara movement as well, it's so obvious in hindsight. Frye and Shiver together represent the dual focus of the Bankara movement: Frye represents a preservation of heritage in the face of modernization and homogenization, and Shiver represents a rejection of outdated traditional values. Both of them wear traditional garb as a reference to the traditionally Japanese garments that defined the Bankara movement, except Frye puts a twist on the concept by wearing traditional South Asian clothes instead. Shiver's secondary Bosozoku biker aesthetic also falls under the Bankara umbrella. The original Japanese name for Anarchy Rainbow is "Bankara mixed modern" (in English, no less), clearly signaling Deep Cut's design philosophy as a reimagining of the Bankara aesthetic for a modern, multicultural audience.

I must point out that Splatoon 3's take on the Bankara aesthetic is deliberately modified in some key ways. The original Bankara movement was largely a right wing men's movement that centered toxic versions of traditional masculinity and prioritized an insulation of Japan from foreign cultural forces. Deep Cut immediately recontextualizes the goals of Bankara by being majority female led (trans versions of Shiver would not have been considered traditionally masculine, either), and including the multicultural friendship between Shiver and Frye. In this way Splatoon 3 borrows from the aesthetics and themes of Bankara as a counter culture movement without condoning its original goals; Splatoon is intended as a progressive, inclusive space, after all, if the fanbase is any indication.

In these very changes we already see the push and pull between the ideas that Shiver and Frye represents: there's a desire to retain the counter-culture themes and cultural signifigance of Bankara while disregarding its original, dangerously right wing meanings. It's fascinating how much Shiver and Frye's designs naturally reflect the design process behind Splatoon 3 as a whole, whether intentionally or by accident. It's also very frustrating that the English speaking audience kind of has to dissect all the themes of Splatoon 3 the long way around through tiny context clues, when the Japanese audience is given it directly in big shiny text. Either way, Splatoon 3 has succeeded in crafting a dauntingly complex multilayered narrative on the evolution of culture, both as a reinvention of Bankara and as a reinvention of Splatoon as a franchise.

Splatoon is so deep, you guys.

[purseowner4thequalityanimation]

Shin Megami Tensei NINE's demon roster consists of new designs, returning designs and REPEATED designs. And no demon demonstrates this better than Harpy, whose model appears in NINE's roster no less than 5 times. Rather than just post 5 gifs and be done with it like I normally do, I have decided to curate a short overview of the BEST Harpy appearances in MegaTen! Hit "Keep reading" (after viewing this post in my blog because the formatting gets fucked up if you don't) NOW!!!!

Harpy and Furiae appear in Shin Megami Tensei 1 but they don't share assets yet so who gives a crap. Siren is a blue harpy, I guess.

Furiae returns in Shin Megami Tensei II with a new sprite, joined by

Ocypete, Celaeno and Aello! There's some slight asset resharing among them as Aello and Furiae share the same base sprite, but the others share with non-harpy demons so as far as this post is concerned they're original. Combined with artist Kazuma Kaneko's tendency to embellish demon designs in artwork and you'd never expect that all these birds were destined to be textureswaps for an underperforming 2002 XBOX JRPG.

But they were! Now we're cooking! In Shin Megami Tensei NINE the 5 bird-ladies return in one fabulous package. If you love Harpy then you'll love Harpy being given a haircut and a dyejob and reappearing four times. You'll love how they appear alongside themselves for hours of gameplay because they're within the same 10-28 level range. As an added bonus for the asset-reuse lover, said gameplay takes place in looping CG render backgrounds arranged into dungeons so just imagine leaving the town square in Ocarina of Time and arriving in that exact town square except mirrored. By the end of NINE you will love asset reuse, because you will not make it to the end of NINE otherwise. (The harpies are also in Shin Megami Tensei IMAGINE but without the looping backgrounds it just isn't the same.)

Honorable mention to Persona 1 which squeezed in the named furies Megaera, Tisiphone and Alecto by using the same upperbody sprite as the three named harpies. Unfortunately Atlus were too afraid to include the named harpy Podarge for a total of 7 unique birdladies, so Persona 1 will only be commemorated by an opacity-reduced overlay of the six they bothered including.

Only regular Harpy survived to the DS-3DS era, using her Soul Hackers design where her head kind of looks like a pinecone. After gracing us with her presence in Strange Journey (+ Redux) and Shin Megami Tensei IV(+ Apocalypse), the Harpy disappeared from the pages of SMT history never to be seen again. As for actual history, I think Harpies were evil birds in Greek mythology but don't quote me on that.

Special thanks to @veskscans for the SMT1/2 art of Harpy, Furiae, Ocypete, Celaeno and Aello, and @eirikrjs for the Soul Hackers Harpy scan. NINE gifs by me, other sprites from the MegaTen wiki.

[dead-lights]

beware of greg!

continuing this save

I finally got rid of the noble vampires (after friggin bloodvein ate morgyn's witch bestie) only for this guy to show up to raid the fridge. like i just looked up and he was there.

take into account - i have both simple living and off the grid enabled on this lot, so it's actually been really hard to manage food for the humans. morgyn and their witch bestie lorena are constantly starving and they're all so broke that they can't always afford to buy food at school. they really couldn't spare that bowl of stew.

the lot is also haunted, hence guidry, spooky, gets hit by earthquakes, volcanoes, has gremlins, and wild foxes. i wanted them to suffer ok and they absolutely are

yeah you walk away

lilith was not particularly impressed by those garbage werewolf books caleb keeps fishing out of the lake (yes, my attempt at light pacific northwest grunge for her lmao, i wanted to use this set for the household bc it felt right for moonwood mill)

i just like her in gay haircuts ok.

caleb gets a space shirt bc he always hogs the telescope when he visits my sims' lots. morgyn's witch friend lorena always wears black, and her daughter audrey always wears pink. also audrey is a mermaid. morgyn's outfit is supposed to resemble their canon turtleneck/red coat.

caleb and morgyn did homework together in matching shirts despite the fact that i don't remember assigning that outfit to morgyn...

caleb seems unimpressed by the view (they're currently mad at each other because they both expected to be asked to summer prom, with the result that neither of them asked and they both stayed home). Keep in mind, they already went to spring prom together.

oddly enough, morgyn is listed as having a crush on caleb but not the reverse, but caleb is the only one who gets all the whims and moodlets related to that. ahhh, EA glitchiness

morgyn and caleb are kinda unique in that, across save files, if i have them in the same household they will invariably get romantically involved, whether i intervene or not. i did not intervene in this case. when i first started playing RoM and vampires (i got them at the same time) i had two siblings from the same household trying to romance them (bc i wanted one sibling to become a spellcaster and the other to become a vampire). if they were invited over at the same time they'd ignore my sims and hang out with each other to the extent that i was having trouble romancing them, at which point i started a new save and embraced the cagyn life.

incidentally, the closest parallel i have to that is the sim (valeria) who failed to romance morgyn. For whatever reason, if I let her interact with Rory, sparks fly. If I make her a werewolf, i very quickly get a fated mate notification just from talking. i accidentally made peace between the two werewolf factions once because Valeria was a member of the moonwood collective, she had a (non-romantic) conversation with rory, they discovered they were fated mates, and they started dating.

caleb tried to paint left-handed while holding encyclopedia vampirica for whatever reason - he has zero points in painting, so maybe he just doesn't know better :P

caleb had an emotional breakdown about morgyn (despite not being the one with a crush supposedly????) and ended up missing class because he was too busy sobbing in the bathroom, despite his ability to rapidly fly upstairs to get there on time. he doesn't even have the sadboi vampire weakness yet... oh honey, the worst is still to come.

i don't think guidry, the ghost of geoffrey landgraab, and lilith are exactly helping morgyn and lorena learn new potions, but Morgyn's outgoing trait means their social bar drops SO FAST like oh my god so i'm sure they appreciate the company.

as has been the case with most of my saves, Caleb is actually really good with children. which is good, because lorena is constantly starving/exhausted/bored and needs a lot of help taking care of the baby. currently caleb & lilith are handling most of the childcare because lorena can't friggin sleep bc of the haunted house nonsense.

additionally: we've had a few visits from Temperence at this point. So far, the best strategy I've had is for Caleb to mesmerize her, and keep her under until she's ready to leave so she can't harass people.

[ceruleanmusings]

No Idea; 1: Miscalculation

Summary - After getting called out for his past actions, James vows to change his ways and prove to Mickey that he can be her friend. (James x OC)

Contains: entitlement, mentioned harassment, deconstructing misogynistic outlooks

a/n: i can't promise all my updates will be speedy but i have been thinking about this a lot so i already have a lot of it mentally planned. it's just the writing part i need to do. and this exists because i have a deeeeep frustration with how james was treated in the show and how he never got proper character development (yes i say this a lot but i'm not joking when i say the frustration is deep!) so this is one way i'm working to fix it and, hopefully, change people's ideas of james. also this is set in season two and if i had to place it anywhere it'd be between BTGirlfriends and BTLive (though that's not super important.)

Tags: @witchofinterest @myloveforhergoeson @partiallypearl @raging-violets

------------

“And she has no idea, no idea, that I’m even here, I’m even here. She has no idea, no idea, I’m standing—no, wait—I’m lying here, I’m lying heeerrreee…”

The orange vinyl stuck to James’ face and probably wasn’t doing good things to his skin. He was too heartbroken to care. It was supposed to work this time. He had it all planned! New haircut—check.

New clothes to go with new haircut—check!

The perfect date idea—check!

The perfect opening to ask Mickey on a date—check!

It all lined up! It was all perfect!

How did it go wrong?

He ran his tongue along his teeth, even though he knew they were free of any unsightly bit of spinach or poppyseed, still smooth to the touch. He would never run the risk of bad breath. C’mon, a world-famous singer with bad breath? No one would live that down. And he was James Diamond, everything was on point with him. But she still said no! How was that possible?

“Are you okay, sweetie?”

James tilted his head, turning his view from shiny orange plastic to Mrs. Knight approaching with a laundry basket on her hip. “No,” he uttered. How could he be okay when the girl of his dreams shot him down? Again.

“What happened?” She sat and set the laundry basket on the table, pulling out one of Kendall’s shirts. Or was it Carlos’? They both tended to prefer off the rack sacks that hung off them. Logan, at least, leaned towards the collar shirts that fit him a little better. James had tailored clothes all the way.

Huffing a breath, James pushed himself upwards. The couch peeled away from his cheek. He rubbed the back of his hand against the line that formed and tucked himself into the corner of the couch. Crossing his arms, he flicked his head, moving his hair out his face. “I did what I always do. I asked Mickey out and she said no.”

“Is that all?”

He balked. Is that all? As if he’d said he dropped a toaster waffle on the ground or his that his fish sticks were soggy. How come no one ever understood the gravity of his life? Why did they always laugh at it? Okay, so, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to call the FBI over because he ran out of hairspray but it was a hair emergency! It was important! This is important!

“I don’t think you understand.” James cleared his throat and slowed his speech, “She. Said. No.”

“I heard you.” Mrs. Knight snapped another shirt in the air and, with a few quick folds, added it to the quick growing pile on the table. He almost asked her to separate his clothes from his buds’, but held his tongue. He wasn’t sure she’d take that too well. She got weird about things like that sometimes. “She’s said no to you before.” Rude. Hurtful. But…true. “What was different about this time?”

Wincing, he sucked air in between his teeth as the deep, throbbing ache came back; souring his stomach with that ugly feeling of shame he tried to ignore. He couldn’t exactly do that when Mickey’s face—twisted; anguished; red, wet eyes and all—came slamming back into his brain. He’d never seen her like that before.

He didn't know which was worse: seeing her so upset or being the reason she was so upset.

He twisted his fingers, spotting a hangnail. That had to go. “Well…it wasn’t exactly a no…” It wasn’t as short as a no. And it wasn’t as quiet as her usual no. It was louder. Much louder. And faster and more pointed than she’d ever turned him down before. And longer, definitely longer.

“What was it, exactly?”

Maybe it was the way Mama Knight looked at him, maybe it was the soft tone to her voice, maybe it was that she actually asked instead of brushing him aside. Either way, the cork was popped. There was no coming back now. “That’s what’s so weird.” He hopped off the couch, pacing, words spilling out of him. “I’ve asked her out a hundred and twenty-seven times”—yes, he’d been keeping track—“and she’d always say ‘I don’t think so’ or ‘I’ not sure that’s a good idea’ or ‘I’m busy’ or ‘I have to feed my ferret’—she actually does have a ferret.” Mama Knight made a silent ‘oh’ and nodded. It was a cute ferret. His name was Gizmo, she called him Pipsqueak or Pip for short. She absolutely loved him. He wished he knew how that felt. “Anyway! We’re hanging out in Studio A, just messing around after practice. The girls are packing up to head home and I figure, now that she’s alone, it’s the best time to ask her to the Griffith Observatory. So I do.

“And she says she’s not sure. So I try and sweeten the deal by reminding her that I’d pay for everything. And she says ‘I don’t know’. And I said what could be better than spending time with me? And she…well…” Sighing, James rubbed the back of his neck. The sour pitching of shame hit him again and, God, it was worse the second time around after everything happened. “She…kinda…yelled at me.”

“…Mickey yelled at you?”

“Yeah, I know. Surprising right?”

Mickey wasn’t just called ‘Mouse’ by her sisters because of the obvious name association but because she was just that quiet. In fact, the day they met by the Palm Woods pool, he couldn’t get a word out of her. And he pulled out all the stops.

The first time he’d heard her was her laugh at dinner that night. Kelly had invited them, Mama Knight, Katie, and Gustavo over for dinner so they could all get to know one another. They’d never met quadruplets before—really cute ones at that—so the questions were flying. She didn’t outwardly react, responding mostly with shrugs, faces, or waves of her hand. But then Carlos said something that made her laugh and—

Oh. My. God.

It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard in his life.

She first spoke a couple days later, some sarcastic comment about how they were stupid—which was fair—and none of them realized she’d said it at first until her sisters started cracking up. But the first time she’d said something to him? The first time she’d looked him in the eye, had his attention, and said, “You were meant to be here”?

His entire world stopped. Gustavo yelling at him for having “no talent” and being “the absolute worst” suddenly didn’t matter anymore. He was a goner. It was the best he’d ever felt in his life.

Mama Knight hummed and snapped another shirt. James frowned. What was he supposed to do with that? “Well, what did she say?”

Might as well get this over with. “She said for me to stop. To stop asking her out and to leave her alone. And why do I keep doing that to her? That she can’t take it anymore. And I was saying I didn’t realize she was serious and thought it was a joke or a game, our thing. Cause, you know, girls can be confusing, and I thought it was just how we were. And then she’s like ‘Why would you think that? We’re not friends. You don’t know me. You know nothing about me. Leave me alone.’ Which, I don’t know how I can do that when she plays in our band and she goes to school with us and they hang out here all the time. But now I’m here and I’m sad.”

He flopped onto the couch again, letting out a low moan, partially at having to recount something so uncomfortable and partially because it hurt all over again. Was this what embarrassment felt like? Her words echoed in her mind but it was the look on her face that hit him straight in the chest. He high-tailed it out of Rocque Records after that. He and the couch had become one ever since.

“I see.”

“What?” He didn’t meant to be so loud but…damn! She was being too cryptic for his liking. He needed answers! Popping back off the couch he demanded, “What do you see? ‘Cause I’m not seeing anything! And I don’t need glasses! I have perfect vision!” He pointed his fingers around his face, just missing poking himself in the eye.

“Well, sweetie, you have been coming on a bit strong.”

James crossed his arms. “Explain.”

With a few quick curls of her fingers, she paired and matched sock after sock. “Well, it’s…possible you’ve been making her uncomfortable with all the attention you’ve put on her.”

“What? No.” James scoffed. “Girls like that sort of thing.” She didn’t know what she was talking about. How long had it been since Mama Knight had a date? Right. She had no idea what dating was like now. It wasn’t the 80s.

“Not all of them,” she insisted.

That couldn’t be right. It always worked for him. It especially worked for his dad; he’d seen it with his own eyes.  He’d seen the videos of his old rock shows, the girls lining up just to catch a glimpse of him before and after a show. The way they held onto his every word at meet and greets or parties. The way they practically melted beneath the attention he gave them. It worked for him. That’s how he got his mom (so he says, his mom had a different story.) That’s how he got his second wife. It worked. He had the proof.

…Didn’t he?

“Why do you think it was different this time?” Mama Knight added.

“I don’t know!” He threw his arms in the air. They landed on his denim-clad thighs with a smack. “That’s the problem!”

“Just think about it. Based off her verbiage, she sounded distressed. And she said that you weren’t friends.”

“Yeah, that was the really weird part. Because we are.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” He paused. Then, “I think so? I mean, we’re always hanging out.”

“In a group.”

“I mean, there’s enough of us so…” Even numbers between his buds and the Mason girls made it easier to play games or do homework or teaming up for playing pranks or bothering Gustavo. It made sense.

“Have you ever spent time with her alone?”

“I’ve been trying to, but she keeps saying no!”

“She’s saying no to going on a date with you.” She put a stack of folded denim into the basket. “What I’m asking is have you, James, ever spent time with her as a friend?”

“Well—”

“Have you ever asked her about her day? What she’s been reading? What movies she’d seen lately? What she’s interested in?”

“Yes! I definitely have!” Ha! Mama Knight couldn’t poke holes into that one.

“Have you ever asked her those things without the expectation it’ll lead you to a date?”

“Um—”

“Have you ever asked those things just because you wanted to know?”

“I—” That’s not where this was supposed to go. She was supposed to have all the answers. Not ask him a bunch of questions.

“Here’s the thing; girls can tell when all you want from them is a date or a kiss or something else. And you’ve made it clear that you’ve been chasing after that instead of trying to get to know her.”

James shook his head before she finished speaking. No no no, she didn’t get it! That wasn’t what he was doing at all! But something niggled in the back of his mind. But...but what if she was right? Any explanation that came to his mind died on arrival because none of it sounded right. Not anymore. Wouldn’t that be the point of a date? To get to know her?

“Let me ask you something.” He groaned. He couldn’t take anything else. “Why do you like her?”

…Huh?

What kind of question was that? Apparently, he’d asked it aloud because she followed it up with, “What do you like about her?”

His lips blew in a raspberry and answers collided in his mind. Where to start?

“I like how much she loves playing the bass and how she puts her all into it even when it’s just practice. You can tell she really cares about it.” When Mama Knight didn’t laugh or make any sort of reaction he cleared his throat and kept going. “I like how much thought she puts into making sure fans have a great experience at our shows. I like how when she’s talking to someone, they’re her entire focus, like they’re the only one in the room. She’s a great listener and very understanding. She has this way of making people who walk away from her feel special, but I don’t think she realizes it. I mean, yeah, it takes a bit for her to talk but you when she does you can tell she’s taken the time to think about the right thing to say and that it means something.”

He stopped and shrugged. He could go on, but the thoughts collided into one another into one unintelligible jumble. What wasn’t there to like? Something about her drew him to her since he first saw her but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was that lit him up inside. That made him want to be around her all the time. Maybe a word hadn’t been invented for it yet.

“Hmm.” That humming was starting to get on his nerves.

“What?”

“Most people, when asked that question, they say things about what the girl does for them. Or they focus on their looks or something physical.”

“I mean, yeah, she’s gorgeous and funny and sweet and she has cool hair and she’s gorgeous, but that part’s a bonus.” She stopped folding, staring at him hard. His skin prickled beneath the scrutiny of her gaze. Did all moms practice how to look at them like that? “Sooo…what do I do?” She had to have some sort of idea to fix this. She always did. Otherwise she’d just be torturing him with facing his actions? That’d just be cruel.

“Okay, I’m going to tell you a secret. It’s really big and but it’s guaranteed to win anyone over. Are you ready for it?”

“Yeah!”

Mama Knight placed her hands on her lap and leaned forward. “…Treat her like a person.”

James blinked, shook his head, and blinked again, his eager smile instantly dropping off his face. “….That’s it?”

“That’s it.” Pushing out a sigh, she reached out and stroked his cheek. He leaned into her touch. And so what if he was pouting a little? That wasn’t the answer he expected. “Honey, I don’t think you’re bothered that she turned you down, I think what really bothers you is that she says you’re not friends.” He was ready to rebuff but she continued. “But she’s right. You haven’t been treating her like a friend. Or like a person. It’s like a consolation prize to you, and having a real good friend shouldn’t be less than.”

But it kind of was wasn’t it? “Just friends” didn’t go on dates or dress up or look at each other in a certain way or kiss or hold hands or whatever else it was that Kendall and Jo used to do and Kendall and Jazz now did. He claimed they talk a lot which, okay, that didn’t sound particularly exciting. He could talk to anyone if that’s all they did. He was good at that.

But he didn’t want to be in the Friend Zone. That was filled with airport pickups and shopping trips and ex-boyfriend talks (not that Mickey had any that he knew of but he couldn’t risk that.) His nose scrunched up at the thought. Mama Knight gave him that look again and sighed.

“The Friend Zone doesn’t exist,” she said, as if she could read his mind. How did all moms have that ability, anyway? “Looks like we’re going to have to have that conversation again.” He rolled his eyes but fought off a huff. She nearly bit his head off the last time he mentioned the Friend Zone around her. He didn’t want a repeat of that, thank you very much. Besides, she was a girl. She wouldn’t get it. “If you like Mickey as much as you claim you do, then being her friend or her letting you into her life would be enough. Because if you’re only being her friend with the hopes to date her, then you’re not friends at all.”

He clicked his tongue. He’d never felt like this for someone before. It could have been one of her sisters he met by the pool that day instead of her and he knew, deep down, he wouldn’t have the same feelings. Something made it nearly impossible for him to get her out his head, made him want to be around her, made him want to impress her.

But was that enough?

“It is.” Well, he could fake it until it was. Or until he liked her less. If that were even possible.

“Great. All you have to do is let her know that.”

“How?”

“Words work but, in this case, I think actions would work better. Be there for her. Be her friend. Everything else will work out the way it’s supposed to.” Slapping her palms onto her knees, she got up with a long sigh. Placing her hands on her hips, her mouth twisted to the side. “You boys are focusing so much on having girlfriends, you’re missing out on having great girl friends. You’re young, you’re in a successful band, you have all the time in the world to get girlfriends. Don’t let good friends pass you by on the way.”

[silence-like-a-dead-man]

Bruce Wayne Music Taste Headcanons

(really quick so i deleted this playlist while cleaning out my yt unfortunately grrrr but yeah i meed to start fcking posting the stuff in my notes app that i've been keeping there for years)

Disclaimer & Huge Spoilers for The Batman (2022): This playlist is made mostly with pre-flood Batman in mind. I think that Bruce post-flood and post-Vengeance-arc has a broader and brighter music taste than the one I've curated for him. I may make a completely different playlist for post-flood Bruce because I believe that his music taste changes drastically when he enters his Hope arc.---------------------When he's in his cave, the music he listens to does not exist to calm him down. He purposefully listens to depressing, negative music with vulgar lyrics because he wants to stay in his misery, in his thick swamp of grief that is the Batcave. Bruce definitely has taste that leans towards the dark and the heavy (grunge, numetal, heavy metal, hard rock) but I think every once in a while he finds a song that he likes that doesn't fit his playlist genre-wise but he adds it anyway, most likely because he enjoys the lyrical content. (example: Excursions by A Tribe Called Quest is hip-hop, but the lyrics fit his life story extremely well, and the song itself is in Minor and feels very 'thick' and swampy due to the upright bass melody throughout the instrumental.) I think Bruce views lyrics as the most important aspect of the music he listens to. It's not enough that he vibes with a song, or that the song SOUNDS like something he would listen to. He needs to either relate to the lyrics or at least appreciate the lyrical content. I think Bruce listens to music that came out around the time he was born (he's a 90's baby in this Universe, age is late 20s-early 30s). He doesn't know a lot of new music, or even new pop culture because he's an absolute recluse and I don't think this man even knows who Beyonce is. He doesn't search for new music. He hasn't moved or touched anything in his parents' room because he wants to remember exactly what the room looked like the night they were killed. He doesn't want to get a new haircut or new clothes, he doesn't care about the newest ball or charity event or trend, he doesn't want new friends or acquaintances. He is the epitome of depression and PTSD. This may be really weird to say but I don't think pre-flood Bruce understood his privilege at all. He seems mildly confused whenever Selina brings up the fact that she's had life experiences that he couldn't possibly relate to because he's a rich white man. There are songs I wanted to add to this playlist (example: Alright by Kendrick Lamar) that talk about police brutality, political corruption, anti-government sentiments and the like, and I ended up NOT adding those songs because I don't think pre-flood Bruce had a good-enough grasp on the concept of privilege, ACAB, class differences, etc yet. A Kendrick song would be better suited for post-flood, "Hope" era Bruce.

(AN: Well, here's my first real fandom post on here! I think at some point I'm going to post my Billlie (kpop group) lore study, which may be used in momosunrise (YT)'s upcoming Billlie lore video, of which I am the original writer of in case anyone was wondering

(AN 2: I also may be posting a part 1 of a "Cillain Murphy filmography review" at some point, where I cover every film he's ever been in from 1997-2008. Be on the lookout for that!)

[sl-newsie]

Query: Q x 00 Agent- Ch. 2: Mrs. White

Thankfully on top of Bond’s knowledge of being a spy, I’ve also picked up on his knowledge of proper dress attire. My apartment’s closet may be small, but I’ve filled any available closet space with clothing for every kind of occasion. Tonight, I decide on an emerald green dress with a v-neck. Not short enough to be distracting, but something a nun might frown at. Paired with silver earrings and simple black flats, my appearance seems reasonable.

“Wish me luck, Cricket.” I give a wave goodbye to the gray tabby as I shut the door.

M seems to have spared no expense, because when I exit my apartment building I find a sleek black Bentley waiting for me. The driver ushers me in without a word and drives straight to the glamorous Blixen. It’s mid-evening, which has produced a decent crowd of wealthy patrons. If it weren’t for my business here I’d feel very out of place. I walk up to the host, about to question about a table-

“Ah, Mrs. White. Your husband is expecting you!” The host greets me and begins leading me down the aisle.

Husband?! Is this what Bond goes through on a daily basis? This new Quartermaster better be as nice as Eve insists, because this whole situation feels like a gag. The host shows me to a table near the back next to a window that displays a gorgeous view of the city. It’s empty, meaning that my ‘husband’ is yet to show.

“Mr. White said he was running late, but you should still order anything you like. Our special tonight is lamb and chickpea stew. Please, enjoy!”

“Many thanks to you, sir.”

I unfold the menu and discreetly begin searching the surrounding patrons for any potential threats. There are none, only a few happy drunks near the bar. I check my watch, seeing that ten minutes have passed. Is this whole thing a joke-?

“Well hello there, Mrs. White.”

My made-up name almost makes me smile. The voice that said it seems strange, almost-

I look up, and almost think the lanky man has the wrong table. His face is young enough to pass as a college bloke, almost child-like. Dark, quirky eyebrows are arched over his brown eyes, full of curiosity. Simple glasses with a black lining cover these inquiring eyes. He’s wearing a very elegant suit, though not as expensive as Bond’s. Coincidentally his tie’s color is almost identical to my dress. I’ll admit he does clean up nice for a younger fellow. If it weren’t for his disheveled brown hair I’d say he was on a first date trying to impress me.

“Hello, Mr. White. I didn’t think they’d allow anyone to have such a messy haircut. I'm even required to keep mine up.”

The geeky man seems unfazed by my comment and settles down in the chair across from me, giving the menu a good search. 

“I don’t do field work.”

My face can’t suppress a smirk. “Of course. You’re just the nerd behind the computer.”

Now I’ve got his attention because his eyes shift up to look at me, almost seeming to belittle me. “I’m the nerd behind the computer that can save your life, agent. Do you want this evening’s conversation to be effective or would you rather go down the street to the local pub to chat in a more childish manner?”

We’re left in a silent glaring battle. How does this guy have just as much spunk as Bond? I’ve not known him for five minutes and he’s already referred to me as a child. Two can play at that game.

“I don’t intend to chat with someone who’s mother still ties his shoes. Either tell me why M sent you to mock me or I am leaving.”

The man keeps a laid-back demeanor as he rises and rounds the table to lean down and whisper: “Pardon my french, love, but I’m your fucking Quartermaster and you better listen if you want to make it through your next mission alive. Do I make myself clear?”

His icy words leave me stunned, only being able to nod in response. Thankfully the waiter arrives now to save me from more arguing.

“Good evening, Mr. White. What will you be having this evening?”

“I will only have a cup of hot tea. Earl Gray, please.”

The waiter is surprised by this simple request, as am I. But he masks it well and turns to take my order.

“I’ll have a lavender lemonade martini.”

“Really, dear? I thought you might be hungry.” God this man really gets on my nerves.

“I lost my appetite,” I reply sweetly but with fiery eyes.

Once the waiter leaves looking rather frazzled, the Quartermaster gives me a skeptical look. “I see you picked up Bond’s love for alcohol.”

I shake my head and toy with the silverware. “Not in the slightest. I just really like lemonade. But if I’d ordered that you’d think I was a child compared to your choice of grown-up tea.”

He actually laughs at my small joke. “Earl Gray tea, only the best. But I wouldn’t think of you differently if you ordered lemonade.”

“Hm. So you don’t like alcohol?”

“I don’t drink on the job. Matter of fact, I don't drink at all.”

The waiter is very quick to drop our drinks off despite me trying to give him a friendly smile.

“Very mature of you. Yet it’s strange of you to only order a cup of tea in a fancy place like this. Ever been here, Quartermaster?”

The man sips his steaming mug of tea. “First, call me Q. It’s much easier. Second, no I’ve never been here. This is probably the most expensive restaurant I’ve ever set foot in.”

“So we both agree that M has exquisite taste?”

“Yes. Speaking of which, let’s get back to the task at hand.” Q pauses to take out a messenger bag he’s brought with him, then pulls out a silver necklace with a blue pendant on it. “For you, Mrs. White.”

“Thank you, dear husband,” I mock in the same cheesy tone. “If this whole dinner was to bribe me with jewelry then M obviously doesn’t know me so well.”

“Haha, we’re all laughing,” Q states dryly as his steady hands clip it around my neck. “It’s actually a disguised tracker. And this-” He pulls out a small box from his bag and opens it to reveal a pouch. “This is a sheath for one of our best non-metallic knives. Undetectable, very elegant and light weight. Which is why I named it Mrs. White in your honor.”

“Yeah, um, why the whole charade of you and me? You could’ve just said we were two old friends meeting for a chat.”

“People don’t ask questions when a married couple is involved,” Q replies lazily as he hands me the knife sheath. “It’s designed for you to wear it anywhere in order to avoid suspicion.”

I smirk. “Oh, like my bust?”

Q doesn’t even flinch. “Yes. Obviously Bond’s also schooled you in flirting, so this jewelry as you called it should suffice.”

“You’re having me model the necklace.” I raise a brow. “Would you have me try on the sheath as well?”

Q takes a deep breath. “Moving on. With the state Bond’s left the current espionage situation in, he’ll be sent to Hong Kong and you to Ireland.”

I almost choke on my drink. “You’re splitting us up? Bond and I are usually joined at the hip for missions.”

This seems to pinch something in Q. In the corner of my eye I see his eyes flick up to search my face for something.

“Figuratively or literally?”

Is this jealousy I detect? “Oh don’t flatter me. Bond never acts like that with me. He knows I put business before pleasure. So why Ireland?”

Q relaxes and takes another sip of this tea. “Closer to home. Better for us to keep an eye on you.”

My nose scrunches. “Are you saying I need a babysitter?”

“In a word, yes. You’re one of our youngest agents, which is why you’ve always been paired with someone.”

I take a good swig of spiked lemonade, then stare him square in the face. “Alright, just say it. You don’t think I’m qualified. You’re just like my last Quartermaster, who thought I belonged as a secretary. I may be young, but I am not dumb, Q. Just ask M. She knows I can go the distance.”

No matter how hard I’ve trained I never seem to control my temper. My own self-pride seems to betray me in delicate situations, and this is probably going to make Q dislike me even more.

However Q seems to take my small outburst surprisingly well. He finishes his tea and takes another deep breath. “I understand, agent. Being one who is also part of the outnumbered youth, I’m afraid our stereotyping of being under qualified only dissipates with age. But please let me finish: This time we are sending you on a solo mission under careful surveillance.”

Did- Did I hear that right? Solo mission? Bond guessed I wouldn't be eligible for those for years.

“Are you bluffing? How on Earth did I get waved for a solo mission?”

Q smiles at my giddy reaction. “I pulled a few strings. M and Eve both told me you could handle it.”

Keeping silent, I rise, move around the table, and pull in a surprised Q for a tight hug.

“Oh thank you! Thank you!” I whisper with contained excitement.

Q keeps stiff as a board, then grunts. “Um, first off, no hugging the Quartermaster.”

“Why? Are you a germaphobe?”

“I don’t do hugs.”

I partake in his request and release him, still smiling like a madman. “Ah. So how about a handshake?”

He considers this, then nods. “That’s acceptable.”

I vigorously grab his skinny hand and give it a firm shake. “I will not disappoint you!”

Q finally mirrors my smile as we begin to make our way to the cashier. “Better not, darling. I’d hate to have to attend your funeral.”

[letstalkaboutit100]

Ideas pt 17 Blue=Concepts Pink= episode ideas Green= Notes

Both Poppy and Holly love horses. I feel Poppy would have a pet lizard and Holly a pet bird. (Note: I thought the long-hair twin was Poppy and the other Holly. I personally like my way better.)

Holly is bi but she ends up with a girl at the end of the show. I'm not sure who, but I don't want her to be another fairy tale character. Just a regular normie. I want them to have Jackie Lynn Thomas and Chloe vibes. (her girlfriend from SVTFOE) I want both of them to have cool dyed haircuts with similar fashion taste. I can also imagine Holly wearing a long grey beanie at the end. With a matching scarf and black heeled boots with magenta jeans and a purple shirt with bracelets.

Maddie's favorite thing to do is paint tea cups. She wears these funny goggles that make her eyes look big lol.

At Wonderland High (I think that's the name) Chase was the nice popular guy that every girl had a crush on EXPECT Lizzie. Alister is more of the handsome quiet kid the other girls have a crush on too. Bunny gets jealous lol. She used to have a crush on Chase too and Alistair got jealous! (Kitty had the biggest crush on him but now she sees him as some annoying guy. He totally teases her a lot to annoy her. He SOMETIMES makes her blush.) Anyway back to Lizzie, he sort of wonders why and tries to talk to her and get her attention and after a while, she just becomes used to him and they become friends. Neither of them has ever had a crush on the other. Courtly was crazier than Kitty! She was stalker creepy obsessed with him! She thought that he and Lizzie were dating so that's why she hates her so much! And other reasons...)

I want a scene after the dragon games where Apple is talking to Blondie and sees (she's not really listening b/c come on! It's blondie! She's probably just asking her questions and rambling) Darling takes her hair down and Apple watches her and in her POV it's in slow motion and stuff and she ends up blushing and looking away.

I want an episode right after the Dragon games. The first episode of the new season. And it's all about Darling! Her whole childhood! (she's narrating) What it was like growing up, how she views her brothers, being an only daughter and everyone expecting her to be a perfect lady her whole life, her first adventure, when she first meets Apple, (They were 7 and she and Daring were having a playdate and when the brothers were arguing Darling took her hand *They both blushed :)* and led her out into the forest and showed Apple her secret hideout! It's a tree house and they spend the whole day there eating the apples from the tree! That's when Darling started to have a crush on her!) I bet she knows about Headmaster Grimm's brother way before Maddie, her first trip to Wonderland where she met Bunny and Alistair and they become friends and go on crazy adventures, Everything up to the dragon games where she kissed Apple.