#and just in universe i think so many people overlook how much work hes done for the resistance

[h0undeye]

You know it Magnusson gets significantly more love than hate on that poll he doesn’t go to the next round right? Lol

this isnt about winning this about LOVING arne magnusson as he DESERVES #pridemonth

[sepublic]

Luz’s Influence

         Warning: This post was SEVEN pages long, given the... range of subject matter to cover. It’s purely self-indulgent as a retrospective over the series, how far we’ve come; A victory lap of all the good Luz did and the people she helped, who came together over this commonality for her birthday.

            It would be impossible to truly capture the enormity of Luz’s influence on the Boiling Isles, the positive influence she’s brought to this world as a vessel of change and guidance… So I’ll attempt a relatively brief summary. RELATIVELY brief… And yeah, I’ll be taking into account a bit of butterfly effect here;

         Luz made Eda and King so, so happy! With Eda especially, she got her to come to terms with her curse, accept her disability, and forgive herself for what she’s done with it. It allowed Eda to make amends with her father Dell, and work with him to cultivate a new generation of Palismen… Similarly, Eda made amends with her former principal Bump, with Hexside no longer being as much a source of trauma; Eda was invited to chaperone, and she became less lonely as she became a mentor to other kids.

         Eda always wanted to learn as much as she could, just like Luz, but never got the chance. But now she can help people learn in the university, taking education to a level beyond what Hexside got, even as Hexside allowed the multi-track learning she desired as a kid! Luz gave Eda the chance to really enact the social change she wanted to as a kid and even as an adult, her life not wasted, and gave Eda a newfound purpose.

         Luz allowed Eda to open up, make amends with her sister Lilith, and get her back. Eda reconnected with Raine, finally being honest about the curse with them, healing their heartache. Eda vocalized her struggles with Gwen, who stopped wasting her life on a pyramid scheme, and accepted her daughter’s disabilities.

         Eda stepped up as a mentor and parent; Learned to let kids make their own choices and draw their own conclusions, instead of merely telling them to think a certain way, because she said so. Thus, Eda avoided the authoritarianism of the covens, encouraging critical thinking in Luz. And she began to truly adopt and embrace King as her son and vice-versa, learning to be more honest with her kids and not have to always hide the truth; Her found family and what Eda chose for her life was just as valid as the blood family she was given.

         King found a friend to truly confide in, and not just a parent; But he truly got a mother out of Eda thanks to Luz. Thanks to Luz, King felt valued, like his interests and people like him truly mattered, and he came to terms with the truth of his past and let go of delusions of grandeur, reassured he still mattered. King became less selfish and a better friend, more mature and mindful of others, even as he got to pursue art. King made friends with others who felt overlooked, such as Gus and Edric. He really grew up with Luz, learning to share and connect with people, seeking to find his dad, and getting just that with an “I loaf you” from the Titan.

         King realized he didn’t want to be a god or a titan, he didn’t want power; He just wanted simple happiness and friendship, embraced his identity as a person and not a symbol. He became humble, and really wizened with his age, adopting a lot of compassion as well. He eventually became an older sibling to the Collector, as Luz was to him, passing on the cycle of kindness and ending the cycle of hatred between the Collectors and Titans. He brought a new era of glyph magic to succeed his father’s especially, no doubt assisting many other witches for ages. And King got a friend who could stay with him forever, even when he outlived the rest.

         Hooty was lonely, a weirdo even among weirdoes; But thanks to Luz, the crew began to value and appreciate him more, expressing it more openly. Because of Luz, Hooty really felt like he did good with his friends as his self-esteem and loneliness ebbed, especially in meeting Lilith, who fulfilled an emptiness in his life that Hooty suffered from.

         Lilith came to terms with her guilt over the curse, accepting the consequences of her actions while at the same time forgiving herself. She escaped an abusive coven and learned to individualize, express herself and her vulnerabilities, and ask for help. Lilith was finally recognized not as an inferior sister to Eda, but as a legitimate witch in her own right, helping Luz discover glyph combos. She rekindled her relationship with her mother, making up for a neglected childhood as she healed.

         Lilith learned to be herself, to not apologize for her interests, no matter how niche, and not need the approval of others. Lilith became more wary of emotional abuse tactics thanks to Luz opening her eyes, something she used to return the favor, and let go of SO much bitterness; As a result, she stopped projecting her jealousy and worship onto King, treating him like a nephew. She became kinder, stopped treating Amity as a pawn and eventually became a friend to her, too. Lilith got to live her dream and hyperfixation, and revel in being a nerd.

         Willow learned to truly express and speak up for herself, not hide who she was, pursue the magic she actually wanted to do, instead of being locked into another one fit for her. Willow was able to rise up and fight back against people who hurt her, and be appreciated and recognized as legitimately good in a lot of things, no longer a meek wallflower, but a beloved and respected leader in her own right.

         Willow got closure with Amity, finally rekindling their friendship and learning why they split apart, even as she got to vent her frustrations and have them acknowledged. She developed a sense of confidence and self-esteem, and was recognized by her dads. Willow even managed to defy bullies like Boscha, getting them to finally stop, and befriended another in Skara. She got to indulge in sports and found another friend in Hunter…

         Willow came to terms with her past thanks to Luz; She accepted that she was once weak and still was sometimes, realizing her vulnerability was also okay and not worthy of punishment, either. She didn’t have to struggle with the burden and pressure of stepping up as a caretaker and only that, these two sides of her weren’t contradictory, and as a result Willow avoided becoming like Boscha. She found people who recognized her power, who’d change for her, and were willing to take care of Willow in return.

         Gus became more confident, more mature and more of a mentor in his own right, after Luz acted as an older sister to him. He got to explore the human realm, his passion, and become an ambassador as he always dreamed, introducing other kids to his interest. Speaking of, Gus may have lost the HAS, but he still managed to help others feel like they belonged, including Willow, Mattholomule, and Hunter.

         Gus realized his illusions weren’t cheap party tricks, they were legitimate and valid magic in their own right, and he didn’t have to express strength in conventionally masculine ways. Gus wizened up, becoming less naïve, but also learning to trust in his own abilities, in his perception and efficacy as a person, and forgive himself for any mistakes.

         He learned to believe in himself, and especially not be paranoid from having his trust taken advantage of, made a fool; Gus was not a fool. His kindness was not a mistake, maybe he needed to be more careful, but the fact that other people took advantage was not his fault, it was theirs. His compassion was a generally great thing for the world, and by continuing to believe in it and people, he made friends with Mattholomule and Hunter, and helped a forgotten old Illusionist find a new generation of kids to teach and appreciate their magic.

         Amity became less toxic, less of a perfectionist who believed in rules and constantly achieved to be the best. Amity learned she could just be herself, not constantly strive to outperform others, because life wasn’t a competition. She learned to open up, rediscover and forge her own identity in the wake of Odalia’s abuse, and finally stand up to and cut her out of her life as well. Amity’s relationship with her family improved, her siblings becoming more supportive and understanding, her father realizing his mistakes and changing for Amity.

         Amity believed she was only good for what she could do for others, constantly felt the need to justify her existence. With Luz, she could finally relax and be at peace with herself, find love, and indulge in being a nerd. She got to do Abominations her way, and set healthy boundaries for herself, knowing she deserved better and demanding as such in her relationships. And Amity learned to respect people’s privacy, reconnected with Willow and made up for her guilt.

         She was inspired to carry on the kindness that Luz started, contributing to Hunter’s rehabilitation. Amity figured out what she wanted to do with her own life, and became happy, accepting her flaws and supposed shortcomings. Amity developed an open mind, more mindful of how she treated others and especially herself, and how people needed to do things differently and that was okay. She became free.

         Hunter escaped the fate of so many Grimwalkers before him; He got to live. He got to escape Belos’ abuse, and find his own path in life. Hunter was so scared of dying, so scared of being hurt, but he learned to relax and be at ease, and found his first friend in Flapjack. He could connect with wild magic, the things he was actually interested in, and even with his own biological family in the Clawthornes.

         He found a mentor in Darius, came to terms with the fact that he wasn’t special, because Hunter could choose his own destiny, and always wanted to anyway. Hunter came to terms with his trauma, with the physical and emotional scars; He learned to let that motivate kindness and accept others, and he learned what real friendship looked like. Hunter found his own friends, didn’t need to put up a mask to create a façade of strength, and learned to communicate his love for the people who mattered to him, and fight for something he wanted.

         Hunter could move on from the past; His own, that of Caleb’s, the one associated with Philip. And he got to spread the joy of palismen that he got from Flapjack to other witches, so that they may also find their first friend and be guided. Hunter found people who could unconditionally support him, and accepted his disability, no longer ashamed of his lack of bile magic. Even if he didn’t achieve full magic, with Flapjack, Hunter could move and fly on his own now too. He learned to be an actual kid for once, and accept his status as a clone.

         Luz’s own mother Camila managed to heal from the loss of her husband Manny, and she came to terms with her own weirdness. Camila was spared the grief of watching her child suffer alone, and rekindled their relationship to be closer to each other, not having to worry. Camila accepted what happened to her was wrong, and that she did not save herself, nor was she saving Luz; By defying conformity, Camila loved her daughter and herself, forgiving both. She found Vee and with both daughters, Camila found it easier to open her mind, but especially to defend that which she already loved and respected for existing.

         Speaking of Vee, she found a family and home, a mother who accepted her for who she was. Vee no longer had to hide herself, and she found fellow misfit friends in the human world, as well as a sister in Luz. Vee came to terms with her trauma, allowed to handle it at her own pace, and eventually returned to the isles. Similarly, Vee’s siblings also found happiness, and none of them would have to worry about being hunted; They were safe and could live simple lives. Vee understood herself through Luz and vice-versa.

         Flapjack managed to fill the empty hole of his grief and regret over losing Caleb, failing to protect his witch; He managed to save a ‘son’ of Caleb’s, Hunter, and found someone after all this time. In a way, Flapjack made up for Caleb’s death by giving Hunter a full life as a witch who could enjoy magic, away from Philip; And even if Flapjack died, he was finally reunited with Caleb and Evelyn, whom he missed after all these centuries.

         Emira took her sister more seriously, stepping up as an older sibling to Amity and encouraging her to be happy; And in her selflessness, Emira became less concerned about looking perfect, and fine with her imperfections, not needing to hide them. Luz became a friend for her, and Emira got to discover her own paths and interests in life through the Healing track. At the same time, Emira didn’t need to worry about having no identity around Edric, nor did she have to compensate by leaving him behind. Emira reconnected with Alador, and made new friends in her profession, forging her own relationship with her father.

         Edric felt like a misfit and a failure, the loser of the family, the un-favorite child. But he was allowed to try different things, finding a proper mentor in Eda and someone who could relate to him in King. He went from a bully to Amity, to someone who’d injure himself just to express love and appreciation for her, venturing into the unknown at one point to find his little sister. Edric got to find something he was good at, a beloved pet in Batric, and not hide his own imperfections either; He became a teacher to kids, passing on the kindness Eda gave him, and reconnecting with his father to look just like him. Edric made other friends, and no longer had to fear being alone, dependent on Emira for companionship, forming a healthier relationship with her.

         Alador escaped a toxic marriage, realized how much he was overworking himself, and reconnected with an old childhood friend who might become more… His and Darius’ rift was healed. Alador realized how unhappy he was, how unhappy and neglected his kids were, and made a decision both for them and himself, finally able to reconnect and spend time. His inventions were no longer used for harm, Blight Industries was destroyed by his own hand, as Alador worked to undo Belos’ coven sigils and free magic itself. He could do what he wanted with his life, and pursue whatever things caught his interest.

         Bump got to give his students the learning opportunities they actually wanted, and really step up as a Principal. His failures in kids like Eda were made up for, as Eda found happiness with Hexside again, and he finally got to be brave against the coven that mandated single-track learning, opting to give that to his students. Bump became beloved by the kids, proving Faust wrong, and encouraging a constructive approach to learning. He could retire happily, knowing his school was in good hands, and pass magic to other generations as part of the cycle.

         The Bat Queen got over her trauma over being abandoned; She allowed other palismen to make their own choices, to make up for their own hurt pasts. Her children were taken care of, got to grow up, even as abandoned Palismen found new owners to fulfill the loneliness they felt. She and the palismen were no longer rejects, they could be loved, and thanks to Luz, a new generation of Palismen were being cultivated; No longer devoured by Belos, with Dell and Hunter helping bring back the population and tradition. Palismen like her would no longer be cast out.

         Mattholomule became less obsessed with power and status, standing up to his bullies Bria, Gavin, and Angmar, and unlearned the toxicity of Glandus. He made friends with Gus, finally accepting his kindness, and became more secure in himself, learning to appreciate illusions and not be seen as a loser anymore. Mattholomule became kind, working to direct people under the Collector’s rule, and he reconnected with Steve, who no longer enslaved himself to the Emperor’s Coven. Mattholomule self-actualized as a builder, creating new things and expanding the library alongside Lilith.

         Boscha no longer had to project power to feel in charge, to feel safe; She could simply let others exist, and not worry about life as a competition. She backed down from bullying Willow, and after losing Amity and Skara, realized how much she needed her friends and appreciated them, reconnecting with Amelia and Cat. Boscha saw herself in someone she once hurt, and stood up to Kikimora, allowing herself to be vulnerable in order to accept help. She didn’t have to rely on a codependent relationship with Amity, who helped give her the bravery to move on and stop holding onto people.

         Skara stopped being a bully, cutting herself off from Boscha; Instead, she found new friends in the Emerald Entrails, and in other misfits as well. Viney, Jerbo, and Barcus got to practice the magic they wanted, as the multi-track learning they fought for became widely accepted; They were no longer losers and changed society thanks to Luz. Barcus became a teacher, and Viney and Jerbo helped to undo the damage of the coven sigils that divided their lives. Amelia and Cat no doubt had a better friendship with Boscha, who learned to be less possessive.

         In general, the kids and everyone at Hexside were freed; Teachers mourning the loss of their opportunities could give it to the students, who weren’t as constrained by rules and the decision to pick a coven. They could choose for themselves, and even found palismen thanks to the Bat Queen and Eda forming a friendship. This opened up other sports besides Grudgby, such as Flyer Derby.

         Gwen made up for her mistakes as a parent, accepting both daughters’ curses, realizing how much pain she’d put them through, so they didn’t have to go through anymore. She reconnected with Eda and Lilith, who she saw become happy, and stopped wasting her life to a pyramid scheme. Her husband Dell was put at ease to see Eda forgive herself for the loss of his eye, and became a grandfather to King; And with the Bat Queen and Hunter, compensated for the loss of his carving skills by allowing Palismen to still come to life.

         Steve realized how unhappy he was, the wrongness of what he was doing as a covenscout, and what was done to him by the coven. He reflected and ultimately learned to change, finding freedom in rebellion, and could hang out with his brother Mattholomule more. Steve went on a journey of self-discovery, finding a therapist and helping his mentor Lilith, even as he helped King come to terms with not wanting to be a monster anymore. Once a fanatical servant, Steve got to think for himself and question the beliefs he was taught, having a humbler outlook on life and people.

         Raine got to see the woman they loved finally let them in, and no longer had to despair over a lost relationship, as they could help. Likewise, they healed from the trauma of their breakup, with Raine no longer feeling the need to lie to Eda when defying Belos. They found other people to fight with in Darius and Eberwolf, met Katya. Raine dedicated their entire life to undoing Belos and his coven system and finally did so, helping deal a personal final blow to Philip’s face as vengeance for all they’d been forced to do. Raine was freed, no longer having to pretend or be controlled, and found another palisman as well.

         Darius also worked to undo the covens and succeeded. He and Eberwolf saved the isles, and Darius overcame his grief over losing his mentor. He stopped projecting his pain onto Hunter, and broke the cycle, doing the previous Golden Guard proud by saving Hunter’s life. He reconnected with old friends Raine and Eda, as well as Lilith, and especially Alador. Darius came to terms with a loved one’s death, and made the most of it.

         As a whole, the coven heads had their lives saved and were free. Sure, some of them didn’t appreciate the effort, or saw it as an opportunity to take power for themselves. But things weren’t totally over for them, after all, nor were they for Kikimora.

         The Titan saw her child find happiness, saw that a new future for the Titans was guaranteed and they wouldn’t go extinct. He no longer had to worry about Philip bastardizing his name to limit the magic he wanted to teach, and found witches to converse with in Luz, Eda, and Lilith. He may have died, but he freed his name and no longer had to despair over King’s loneliness and sense of abandonment by his father, expressing one precious statement of love. The Titan Trappers who contributed to his species’ demise were defeated by the Collector…

         Speaking of, the Collector found happiness and freedom, after the Titan regretted imprisoning them. They learned about real friendship and grew up, not needing to control people, and no longer feeling lied to, with those who were honest. For once, people chose and reached a hand out to them, such as King with Francois, or Luz herself. After millennia totally alone, and then centuries manipulated and lied to by Belos, the Collector was free, and while some innocence was lost, they gained a better understanding of life. People who once feared him gathered to marvel in wonder at the Collector’s magic. They found justice for their lost Titan friends, and facilitated travel between worlds, allowing people to find happiness in the Boiling Isles as they once did.

         Katya and Tinella Nosa found freedom; Tinella got to become a famous author, and Katya found other rebels in the BATTs, inspired by Luz’s teachings, and succeeded in undoing the system that hurt her. Now nobody else would have to suffer. Salty got over his own biases and accepted Luz and King as members of his crew. Perry got to see his old friend Eda live, and helped stand up to Belos with his son; Gilbert and Harvey saw their daughter find true happiness, and no longer had to worry about people like Terra Snapdragon hurting kids, as they once were hurt by her.

         Severine, Tom, and other Covenscouts were freed from their trauma and allowed to pursue their own paths. Wrath got to be with his son Braxas, who grew up. Jean-Luc reunited with King and succeeded in their purpose of having him nurtured. Demon Hunters and other wild witches like Prim were no longer oppressed.

         Endangered species like the Basilisks, the Slitherbeast, and the Selkidomus were saved thanks to Luz’s arrival. The writers imprisoned by Piniet managed to escape and/or enact some revenge, people were spared the deceptions of liars like Adegast, Tibbles, and especially Belos.

         Luz brought magic to the human world; Brought Vee and gave Masha and other human misfits a friend. She re-introduced glyphs and palismen, helping people with disabilities, even as the isles unlearned Belos’ puritan mentality, becoming less retributive, and more restorative. Prisons were abolished in favor of hospitals and rehabilitation. People became free to explore magic as they saw fit, not having to fit themselves into categories.

         The oppression of the covens was over, everyone could be a wild witch and/or a general weirdo. Nature and endangered species began to replenish, as things were allowed to be wild and no longer harvested or controlled. Blight Industries stopped selling harmful weapons, Palismen returned, and other forms of magic were appreciated as it became less about power, and more learning for its own sake. New opportunities for people, as trauma healed and compassion was spread instead of hurt; Luz helped the isles recover from Belos, and begin returning to what it once was. People were freed of sigils, learned more about the Titans, and so forth.

         It wasn’t just that they were allowed to keep living, and weren’t all murdered; People became genuinely happy and self-actualized because of Luz, improving on their previous lives. She undid Belos’ harm, so even if scars lingered, Luz allowed a broken world to be restored and move on from their trauma. Luz ushered in a new era…

        But perhaps most importantly? Luz helped herself. She helped herself find other weirdos to be accepted by. She learned to love herself and what she could do, not apologize. Luz became more mindful, kinder around people, even as she grew wiser. Luz gained a powerful agency over her life that allowed her to become a Good Witch like her dreams, while still embracing her own identity. She came to terms with her father’s death, was no longer forced to choose, and was finally understood and loved by many.

[starkraivennemad]

Just a Little Push

Universe looked upon the two men and as they pretended not to stare at each other and shook its proverbial head.

*[Yes, I’ve been busy, but it has been eons. Have they not progressed further yet? Oh, we have made him cold – perhaps too cold? Time for a gentle push – thirsty much?]*

“You, Detective Inspector, are quite a different officer of the law than most.” Mycroft Holmes declared as he took a sip of water.

Mycroft had made his deductions about the man upon first sight: an honest cop who believes in the law, no nonsense, patient, hard worker, loyal, an everyday man – all of which were correct. Then made further presumptions from there: easily manipulated, unintelligent, lacking in guile, just another goldfish - all of which were wrong. Still, after years of knowing the man, Mycroft realized he really did not know him at all.

Could he be a friend? He had not truly tried, until now.

*[And as for you, little one… He may not quite see you – yet, but I know you are starting to see him. Stop eating and see him some more.]*

D.I. Greg Lestrade, about to take a bite of food, placed his fork down at the tone. “Oh?”

Their random, short terse meetings in darkened carparks or walks from coffee carts had over the years morphed to sit down dinners in restaurants. That was good. And while Greg no longer felt animosity towards the man, he would not delude himself into thinking the jaded, uber erudite, ridiculously posh man considered him anything other than a cog in the wheel among the many gears in that brain of his. Holmes had far too much class than to say the words, but a lot I am right and better was heavily implied. Greg sat back and waited for what he sure was too be another the veiled insult.

*[Now. Rewind and fix that.]*

“Apologies. It was not meant as censure or detraction, Lestrade.” Mycroft how his words were taken. “I find myself-curious. It is my experience many officers of the law fall into categories: the hard core, black/white, everyone is guilty, self-appointed judge, jury and sentencing. Or the jaded, lackadaisical pencil pusher, just enough pride left to not embarrass the wearing of the badge, but no longer care. Then there is you: you obey the law and protect it but, as working with my brother 0who shall we say regularly skirts that fine line with legalities- proves, you are not enslaved by it. And you care. Not just for your fellow officers, but for the people as well. Inspector Lestrade, you care.”

There was something in Mr. Holmes’ tone. There was no sarcasm in it. No imminent caring is not an advantage malarkey to be said. If anything, there was a note of admiration in his voice. That was something Greg could not recall ever sensing from the man before. Still, so years of being wary around the man was not something easily relinquished.

Could he be a friend? He had not truly tried, until now.

“I do. I cannot and will not speak for my fellow officers, each travel their own paths, but on mine I have not forgotten that I serve the people, not the other way around.” Lestrade half ducked his head as he smiled. “Yes, I am stickler for the law, but I am not arresting a desperate mother for stealing a few eggs to feed her babies until her benefits kick in the next day or because the nearest food bank is too far away. Sometimes we shouldn't apply the law but must apply humanity.” Greg shrugged. “I had, and continue to have, one of the top conviction rates for a D.I. even without your brother’s help. I get there, just not as fast as you two super brainiacs. Still, I’m smart enough to know when lives and time are of essence, to use the tools available to get the job done – even if the tools is often – a tool.” He and Mycroft exchanged small smiles at that. “C’est la vie. As long as we have the right person in jail, with a conviction that sticks, I am not vain enough to care about that, Mr. Holmes. When it comes Sherlock and getting the job done, I overlook a lot.” Greg gave Mycroft pointed look.

“Ah, you know about that case then. I’d wondered.” Mycroft nodded to himself.

“If I knew, what I think you think I knew, which I don’t – I also didn’t knew by the time I may have come to knew it on my own, remember: slow brain, but gets there – I also knew I would not be able to prove what I didn’t knew I didn’t knew and to what point to knew it then? Therefore You. Sherlock. Sally. And especially I. Knew. Nothing, Mr. Holmes.”

*[Oh enough of that – don’t you think?]*

Mycroft gave a short huff at wording. Everything in the man’s tone told Mycroft the officer knew everything.

“Mr. Holmes. Sounds so formal, Detective Inspector Lestrade.” Mycroft raised his wine glass, “You may call me Mycroft.”

*[Your turn.]*

Greg smiled at the genuineness in the offer and raise his wine glass. “Detective Inspector Lestrade. Sounds so formal. I have a first name; I know you know it - use it.”

“Thank you, Gregory.”

“Thank you, Mycroft.”

Clinking glasses, both men felt the change in tone between them as each wondered if they might be friends someday after all.

*[Oh, MUCH better! Now what ‘coincidences’ were we having near Brisbane again…?.]*

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

@flashfictionfridayofficial

[therummesoccupied]

IDW'S SONIC THE HEDGEHOG, ISSUE #73 - THOUGHTS

WARNING - SPOILERS AHEAD

You'll never guess what happened.

I've once again waited until a couple hours before a new comic release to write my review of the previous one.

Shocking, I know.

I feel like a broken record at this point, saying that Min Ho Kim is really good at pencils. It's a fact so objective that it's been imprinted on the fabric of the universe at this point. On-model, expressive, excellent conveyance of motion. I hope I keep seeing their art until I'm sick of it. Or I die. Whichever comes first.

Reggie Graham also continues to be really good at colors. More please.

On the story side, Evan does a really terrific job of increasing the tension in the writing, making it crystal clear that we're building up to the climax of this story arc.

There's a sort of static electricity in the way this scene is portrayed, like everybody here knows something is about to happen.

But before any of this, we finally get to see Clutch make his move.

It's amazing how... quietly it all goes down. Verbally, he keeps up the facade, carefully insisting that everything he does is for the good of the event, all while wearing the most obvious shit-eating grin as he makes half-veiled threats and seizes complete control of the entire operation.

There's no sudden, dramatic shift, or grand declaration of his victory. No, that's Dr. Eggman's style. Clutch handles things far more eloquently. Just a quick conversation and it's done. I continue to be amazed at the ways Evan finds to distinguish this character. He's so easy to dismiss early on, he seems like such a small fish in such a big pond compared to the likes of Eggman and Starline, but that same tendency to overlook him is precisely what makes him every bit as dangerous as they are.

And so, with everyone wound around Clutch's fingers, we move into our final, climactic showdown. The Babylon Rogues vs. The Diamond Cutters vs. Surge & Kit vs. the Phantom Rider.

Now, at this point, after everything that's happened, my hot take is that Surge is the true main character of this whole Riders storyline. She has gotten so much to do here. Being yanked around by Clutch, getting her first true taste of heroism, learning to enjoy it not just for the fame, but for the positive impact it makes, trying to break away from Clutch, all to be harshly reigned in and left desperately searching for a way to claim the freedom Sonic has spent all this time telling her she could have.

And this scene shows her, pushed to her breaking point, pulling her last gambit. Relying not on overwhelming strength - that's never worked when dealing with Sonic - but on sacrifice and careful, tactical planning.

Here, Surge throws herself into the fray and willingly lets herself take a beating...

... all to expose Sonic as the Phantom Rider.

This is such a cool move, because it complicates things so badly. For Clutch, it shows the entire planet that world-renowned hero Sonic the Hedgehog has been actively working against Clean Sweep Inc., and many people are going to be wondering why. Surge also calls out to Clutch, saying that she's done her job, and "destroyed the Phantom Rider," which also tells the world that Clean Sweep and it's operatives were actively trying to kill world-renowned hero Sonic the Hedgehog. Even if not everyone puts the pieces together, it still sends a lot of negative attention in Clean Sweep's direction.

Of course, this also has some implications for Sonic - A bastion of peace and harmony, an idolized figure in this world, was kicked out of charity sporting event, and subsequently infiltrated said event in disguise, disrupting proceedings, antagonizing security, and even putting other participants in danger a few times. Throw in the acts of outright violence Mimic committed while disguised as the Phantom, and this could do a lot of damage to Sonic's reputation. Not that he really cares - he said as much last issue - but I think he underestimates how much easier his heroism is due to his nearly-universal positive public reception. It's really interesting to imagine how Sonic will move forward trying to protect a world that doesn't really trust him, especially with his outright rejection of authority.

Then we get one of my established favorite tropes - Main characters meet long-established side characters for the first time! Tails, Amy, and also Belle meet Don, who has snuck onto the Restoration Shuttle looking for the Chaotix. I love Amy's immediate response to Don, it's so nice to see her hot-headed and snarky side in this story.

It doesn't take them long to find the Chaotix, since Belle knows the shuttle inside and out, and knows exactly where they'd be kept.

I do have to say, I love the way all these panels in the engine room are colored. Being inspired by the Sonic Riders games, everything in this arc has looked so clean and futuristic, then you get down here and it's rough, red, musty bolts and steel. It's such a sharp contrast, and it makes me appreciate Graham's colors even more.

The issue ends with Tails, Amy, and co. being confronted by Clutch and his security crew, who have no intent of letting them walk away. Clutch seems absolutely set to throw down, but it makes me wonder: What exactly does he expect to accomplish here? I've made the point so many times over the course of this arc, that Clutch never wins the day with overwhelming force, he does so through cunning schemes and careful manipulations. So how does he expect to fare against Amy Rose and Miles Prower, legendary adventurers known for running around with Sonic the Hedgehog, let alone the Chaotix, Don, and Belle, with only his cane-gun, a couple of bumbling mercenaries, and four run-of-the-mill security goons?

I dunno, maybe he has some grander plan for this encounter, but I just can't see him as a credible threat in an actual face-to-face fight. Who knows, he's definitely desperate, so maybe we'll get a chance to see how far that desperation will push him.

We have two more issues left in the Phantom Riders arc before we finally move onto the newly announced Scattered Pieces. At the risk of spoiling a bit...

Going by the cover art we've seen so far, it looks like Clutch and Mimic will be remaining as focal antagonists for a bit, so it appears that Phantom Riders will not be the end of the overarching Clean Sweepstakes saga. It's possible the solicitations say more, but I don't read those since I often find them to be a bit too spoiler-y for my tastes. Still, I'm really curious to see how this all plays out and what the aftermath will look like.

I combed the letters section for any important info this time around, and nothing really jumped out at me. We did recently see the announcement of an upcoming Sonic/DC Comics crossover, and that could be the crossover that was teased in the letters a few months ago, though it looks like the crossover comic will be published by DC and IDW will not be involved, so it's possible that we may have an entirely separate crossover story coming in the future.

Maybe that's just me coping since, while I like both Sonic and DC a lot, I don't really feel like they work very well as a crossover. Ian's a competent writer, though. If anyone can make it work, it's him. Here's hoping I still get my Sonic/Godzilla crossover someday, though.

Anyhow, as always, thanks for reading! I'mma go get ready for the 2024 Annual to drop, and I'll get that review out... sometime before the next issue releases!

[r-2-peepoo]

I see so many people who blame Ted for things involving Jamie and Nate in particular, and it seems weird to put so much of that responsibility on him when the entire point is, in season 2 in particular, Ted is a bit of a disaster. Just as Jamie and Nate had their own personal problems and insecurities, Ted is dealing with the exact same thing thing. The only difference is he’s finally unable to ignore it anymore. We don’t even know Ted’s issues until he does. With Jamie and Nate, signs explaining their behaviour are sprinkled throughout the show but Ted is so deeply in denial that he doesn’t even know anything is wrong until he physically can’t suppress it anymore.

Could he have done more for Jamie when his dad came into the changing room? Sure. But so could have anyone else. And I mean any of the coaches and any of the players too. Beard and Roy are the only two who acted and it’s pretty clear that they are both better suited to dealing with Jamie’s problems anyway. In any other situation, I expect Ted would’ve done something but he was clearly paralysed by the universe yet again forcing him to confront his trauma. I get that he’s the main character and also the head coach which is why everyone expects him to do the most, but it’s also possible that he’s just not that type of person and that is okay. When he sees Jamie in season 1 after Richmond get relegated, the first thing he thinks to do is go and talk to him, only to be interrupted again by his dad. He always wants to help, he just doesn’t always know the most effective way to go about it. That’s why Jamie ends up with Roy and Keeley. Between the two of them, they know how to help him. They all help each other and fill a role they all need in their lives. Filling the dad-shaped hole in Jamie’s with Ted wouldn’t have worked but that doesn’t mean Ted failed him.

I think he was as supportive of Jamie and Nate as he was physically capable of being at the time and when it comes to Nate, it was definitely more about Nate projecting his insecurities than it was actually about Ted doing anything wrong. Nate didn’t confide in Ted about his feelings. He just assumed Ted didn’t care and didn’t approach him about it until he exploded at him.

If it were any other show, Ted would be this almost all-knowing, perfect person who always says just the right thing and comforts everyone in just the right way but it was never that kind of show. It constantly subverts expectations and that includes portraying its main character as an overwhelmingly kind but deeply flawed person. That’s why I just wish people were not so critical specifically of him. His trauma is just as valid and important as anyone else’s and despite them being a central point in the show, I almost feel like they get overlooked when it comes to analysis of the show.

[my-dark-lord]

Hi! I wanted to ask, is there a way to read more about your ocs in hellaverse? I just kinda like other people ocs very much lol

Hey! I'm so sorry this is running so late, Nonny, I meant to reply sooner than this but I tend to get distracted super easily. I've got the ADHD pretty bad and in my past life I was the goldfish that made scientists think they all had five second memories.

At any rate, I have quite a few Hellaverse OCs! A lot of fankids and then quite a few surrounding Ozzie or Valentino. I've been working more with the ones that deal with Val, lately, which are mostly Darío, Ostello, and Anya!

The main OCs I have are Ostello, Anya, Darío, Ozzie's Parents (Abstemiounessa and Valore), Archangel Uriel, Leviathan, Magpie, Vick, and then a few others that I don't do much with. I also have fankids but that may be for another time.

I literally just reworked Ostello's bio and took it from 364 words to 1,101 words and updated a lot of information that had become wrong as I wrote him. Anya recently got upgraded from OC that I didn't really do anything with to OC that I'm using a lot more.

They're all on my RP blog, @e-m-p-error, though a lot of them need a little reworking. For now, I can share Ostello and Anya's info here! I've been working on them most recently. Ostello is Valentino's ex-husband and Anya is his Personal Assistant!

It's under a cut for length. Ostello's info is LONG. All art by me.

Anya

Human Name: Anya Kazlow

Name In Hell: Anya

Nicknames: Annie Baby, Yaya

Faceclaim: My/Friend’s Art

Original Universe: Mainverse

Age: 30 (When He Died); 37 Years Dead

Birthday: April 30th, 1956 (Taurus)

Deathday: December 5th, 1986

Height: 6'8"

Gender: Cis Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Bisexual Bimantic, Ambigamous

Species: Gorgon Sinner

Snake Color: Red and White

Eye Color: Pale red sclera, bright green irises

Occupation: Valentino’s Personal Assistant

Headcanon Masterlist

When Anya was alive, she worked in a veterinarian’s office that saw a lot of exotic pets owned by bad people. There were all kinds of things that she had to overlook in her line of work, including humans that had bullet wounds or other such injuries. She doubled as a nurse when she had to, and learned how to take care of human and animal injuries alike. Always having been nurturing and gentle, she was well-loved by the Russian mafia in her town in Belarus and ended up getting married to a lower-ranking member after tending to him for one summer.

She was shot on their wedding day when a rival cell infiltrated the wedding and killed as many of the people there as they could. She died holding her lover’s hand, and vowing revenge. This never came to fruition.

Meeting Valentino not long after she fell, Anya was hired on to be his PA after she ended up gentling him through an injury that he obtained in a turf war. She happened to be there at the time, and he decided having a medically minded personal assistant would be a good idea. She sold her soul to him, and being an important member of his team, she was given the golden tooth that Angel Dust and Val both had. She is in love with Valentino, but he only sees her as a friend. She’s mostly okay with this because it’s worth it just to be near him. It is her job to handle most things that Vox doesn’t handle for him. This can be anything from cast lists to work schedules to bartending if he needs someone to cover a shift. If Val needs it done, she’ll do it.

Her snakes are Frog Eating Rat Snakes, and because of this, they have bacteria in their mouths. If she bites you, it is an immediate, violent, and disgusting case of leprosy that can kill in minutes. She has only ever bitten three people, and she usually doesn’t, but she will absolutely do it if it is necessary.

Anya is very nosy and always likes to be up on the latest gossip and whatever juicy things are going on around Val. She will pry into his business while she takes care of him while he’s drunk so she is abreast of the latest drama.

Ostello 

Human Name: Oscar Lawrence

Name In Hell: Ostello

Nicknames: Tello, Baby (Valentino Exclusive), Broadway (@strangeandun-muse-ual’s Vox Exclusive)

Faceclaim: My Art/Al Pacino

Original Universe: Mainverse

Birthday: January 21st, 1899

Human Deathday: May 3rd, 1944

Demon Deathday: February 9th, 1980 (Assassinated by Val with a Holy spear)

Age: 45 (When He Died As A Human); 36 Years Dead (When Killed By Val); 80 Years Dead (In Heaven)

Gender: Cis Male

Sexuality: Homosexual Homoromantic Ambigamous

Species: Badger Sinner

Height: 6'8"

Relation: Valentino’s Ex-Husband (Widowed)

Occupation: Overlord, Pop-Jazz Singer, Arms Dealer

Headcanon Masterlist

When he was alive, his name was Oscar Lawrence. Oscar was the son of Ruth and Samuel Lawrence, their only child. Marty was his father’s best friend, his right-hand man in the fire department, and his wife’s affair partner. Oscar knew about the affair for approximately a year before his father died on Christmas day when he was ten years old. A year after his father’s death, Marty was his stepfather, and while he never held any express animosity toward him, he never called Marty his father. His mother and Marty had two kids together who were twelve and fourteen years younger than he was, and he was never particularly close to his half-siblings.

At seventeen, he had dropped out of school and gone to work in a club in Omaha. He was discovered singing one of the numbers from a nightly show while cleaning by his boss, who loved his sound and gave him his own attempt at playing a show one Saturday night. For starters, he did a few covers of things that he had heard and ended the night on a song he’d written himself. His lyrics were filled with a longing he became known for, a desire for something he could never have. It became something that was so Oscar Lawrence to long, to pine so genuinely and openly that it was impossible to separate from him. So much of his music was about barely scraping his fingertips against the thing he longed for, and nobody could ever quite get out of him what it was.

When he was twenty, he met Olivia, his wife-to-be. She fell for him, hard and fast, and he never felt much. But it was a suspicious thing for a man his age not to have a wife, and he liked Olivia enough to live with her. Oscar was rarely home, out touring and recording a lot, but at twenty-one their daughter, Gertrude “Gertie” Rose Lawrence was born. He rarely saw her, and when he was home, he was usually sad and drunk. Gertie doesn’t remember much of her dad, but his biggest sin with her was neglect. He never rose his hand against her or her mother, and he was never particularly cruel.

However, he did cheat on his wife. Often while he was on tour, he could sleep with any woman that wanted him in ways he found impossible to do with his wife at home. Like many singers of his time, he also had a stage presence on the silver screen. Much like he found many temporary replacements for his wife, he found a semi-permanent replacement for his daughter as a mentor to Shirley Temple.

If there was something as Oscar Lawrence as pure, unadulterated longing, it was a desire to run from what he did have with that same desperation.

His biggest sin in life was that he was gay in a time when that was very highly frowned upon, and it was a well-kept secret. Nobody knew about it, and he never once acted on it while he was alive.

When he died in 1944, it was a slow, painful, and disorienting death alone in a hospital half a country away from his family. His wife and daughter flew out to see him just in time to say goodbye, and he couldn’t recall who they were. He died of acute liver failure that had progressed under the radar of his manager who had been busy working him through the holidays.

Olivia sued the company for negligence that led to her husband’s death, and she and Gertie continued to never want for anything but the man whom they owed their cushy lives to. Neither could say they knew him before he died, and after they would know him even less.

Oscar sort of expected to fall into Hell, and when he did, he was unsurprised. For a few months, he just tooled around, feeling out his new abilities and appearance as a badger. He discovered early on that he had pyrokinesis and it was something of a novelty for a while.

One night while walking the streets and experimenting with it in the lonely hours of the morning, he gave a fireball too much juice and shot an Overlord on her way back from a big deal. He didn’t expect it, and it led to a huge fight between the two of them in which Ostello accidentally became the victor. It was a hard fight and when her gun was knocked from her hands, he managed to grab it in the ensuing wrestling for it. Unbeknownst to him, it was loaded with holy bullets, and ended in her demise.

Her attendants, who had scattered during the fight, came to him to tell him that he was now in charge of her territory as long as nobody else took it, and he took the responsibility fairly seriously. This didn’t stop him from pursuing a musical career on top of the weapons dealing, of course, but it was somethingi that he did want to do to the best of his ability.

Ostello, as he eventually renamed himself, became a rather beloved fixture of the Pentagram. He was hard to upset and treated his workers with dignity and respect. They were paid well, especially those who gathered holy metals during the Extermination, and he never went so far as to treat any of them cruelly.

He worked with Alastor to produce radio shows and sang live several times for him. When Vox eventually came around, Ostello left Alastor’s employ to work under a label that Vox owned. He performed for him there, with concerts and other such things, until the day he was killed. His music is still fairly popular and played in several Voxtech buildings.

In 1972, he met Valentino, and in two months married the moth. He was a devoted husband who wanted nothing more than to make his wife happy, and he spent the next eight years absolutely enamored by him. However, Valentino had never really been in love with him, and in 1980 used a holy spearhead pilfered from Ostello’s own armory to kill him.

Due to his love for Valentino driving him to be a much, much happier and better person, when he died he was reincarnated in Heaven. He dislikes Heaven very much because he misses Valentino and was reunited with Olivia. He does not know that Gertie is in Hell. He has been watching Valentino in Hell for years and is abreast with the latest things going on in his life at all times.

[leedollop]

I'm honestly happy I've found people who like A/dam but don't like Heaven, because I can just not understand the point of view that Heaven is being unfairly painted as the villain and A/dam somehow proves that. Heaven has essentially caused half, if not most, of the problems within HH's universe.

Nothing Heaven has done in the story is really that forgivable to me, sorry not sorry. They are all so stuck up in their point of view and not feeling the need to explain anything that they practically left the backdoor open for L/ucifer to make the mistake that he did. Yet they still had the gull to blame him and L/ilith for it. They forced a group of humans into a heteronormative sandbox, then stroked A/dam's ego without thinking of the consequences. They then let this ego boosted human exterminate human souls of all things. I see some people blame it on A/dam as his idea, but he's not a high enough authority to completely put that plan into action, he needed backing and he needed enough Heavenly officials to turn a blind eye for him to do exterminations in the first place.

Like, I feel a lot of people overlook the fact Heaven is chalk full of commentary about how easy it can be to condone violence against groups you are lead to believe are "not redeemable" or you have been led to view as "dangerous". Heaven also shows how important nuance is in abusive situations to stop cycles of abuse from happening. For example, if Heaven pushed redemption to begin with, V/alentino probably would not have managed to collect as many desperate souls as he did, and A/ngel D/ust likely would not be in the abusive situation he's in now. Teaching others that there are no second chances only makes people and their situations worse, and Heaven is ultimately responsible for that push in perspective across the board.

Yes, C/harlie is not the best at explaining her idea and its easy to get frustrated with her at points, but I also think it's important to keep in mind the officials in Heaven are the people pinning C/harlie and A/dam against each other in the first place. They let things get this bad, C/harlie and A/dam are just working within the system they were pressured into.

A/dam is a victim just as much as everyone else, and for that reason I can't take the approach that Heaven didn't deserve to be treated as the bad guys. I also think people are forgetting that E/mily is a character too when they say that. Clearly not everyone in Heaven is bad, but the upper management in Heaven is coming from an extremely flawed position.

But at the same time, I think people are really unfair to HH when there is only one season out thus far. We have no idea how the show will approach A/dam's character going forward, or even Heaven for that matter, so.

[highseas-swede]

This is something I don't see talked about a lot and tbh, if I were a bigger blog and more worried about people, I might not have the courage to say it, but I will here.

I have seen way too many bad takes when it comes to Aziraphale.

For context, I will disclose that I say this both as a fan of Aziraphale as a character and someone who - for a time - worked with writers on a professional level with a specific focus on fixing story structure issues. Anything I say has both of these things as a background.

I have been a fan of the book - and the ship - for a very long time. I'm fairly sure the book was my first actual introduction to the concept of queerness, even though I didn't know at the time what significance that had. Aziraphale has always been my favorite. And I don't say this to downplay how much I love and enjoy Crowley, because I do. Some of my favorite moments from the book - and the show, honestly - are from the parts focused on Crowley.

As a fan of the character, I was very surprised at the way Aziraphale has been marginalized in fandom since the show came out. I get it, I feel like a lot more people in fandom have latched onto Crowley and given the general queering of gender that is common in fandom, it makes sense that a lot of people can project their own form of queerness on Crowley, who is far more of a flexible/malleable character in that regard. I'm sure that the popularity of David from his days on Doctor Who was also a reason for this as well.

You're absolutely right. Fandom centers Crowley's trauma and pushes down Aziraphale's trauma in favor of focusing on Crowley. This is most evident in fanfiction/fanart trends, since more people tend to do fiction than meta, but it exists in both areas.

And I have seen far too many takes villainizing Aziraphale after the events of season 2.

A sidebar for just a moment to emphasize this here and now: I love Aziraphale but I don't find him perfect or flawless. This angel has some serious issues, some significant flaws and I agree that he's done things that are very hurtful to Crowley. I'm not going to dismiss that or brush it under the rug or anything like that. As an Aziraphale fan and an analyst, I'm probably better versed in his flaws than the average fan is likely to be because I spend a lot of time delving into them and trying to figure out how this messed up little angel ticks. I say this because I know that otherwise someone is going to accuse me of overlooking these things about the character in an effort to criticize a viewpoint they don't like.

Fandom Take #1: This first view is obviously bad and it's also completely reductive to the type of story that we've already seen this is. Anyone who seriously thinks that Aziraphale wants power for the sake of power has been watching an entirely different show from me and not one that I care for.

Anyone who thinks Aziraphale's actions that hurt Crowley make him somehow irredeemable or that Crowley is going to "find someone else" must think they're watching a completely different genre of story. This is a love story. Neil's said it himself. Everyone else involved has emphasized it.

More importantly, they've already shown in-universe that even a tremendous dick like Gabriel is capable of being redeemed. And - get this, because it's the important part - LOVE IS REDEMPTIVE. Gabriel doesn't become a better person and then he earns the right to fall in love. He falls in love and that so fundamentally changes his viewpoint about the universe that he has to become better himself.

Love is the biggest and most overriding theme in this show! Season 1 ends not with a battle, but with a boy declaring that the father who raised and loved him is, in fact, his real dad, casting aside the biological father who created him to be a tool of destruction.

The war between Heaven and Hell is averted for a second time not by Aziraphale blowing up a bunch of demons with his halo - the ultimate symbol of his angelic power - but by the angels and demons being forced to accept the truth that an angel and a demon - if not the angel and demon we wanted - LOVE each other.

I don't claim to know specifics about the future ending of season 3, but I can tell you that it's not going to end with Aziraphale groveling for Crowley's forgiveness. That is to say, Aziraphale might grovel, but it won't be needed. By the time we get to that point, it will have already been forgiven.

There's also a bigger issue in both Fandom Takes #1 and #3 that bothers me, which is the idea that fans act like Crowley doesn't need to improve anything about himself, that he doesn't have flaws. I haven't seen a lot of meta about Crowley's growth journey in Season 3, mostly it's about him angsting and/or being comforted and that Aziraphale has come crawling back in some way.

I have a bit less to say about take #3 except that I find it more bothersome than #1 because it also feels more backhanded. This take feels 100% fanon projection rather than being based on anything we see in the canon, but it's also very... condescending? To both characters, really, but especially the "UWU Aziraphale is so dumb and cute and we like him solely because he makes Crowley happy, but Crowley really deserves better" attitude.

All I can really say is that Crowley would absolutely hate someone ever saying something like that about his Angel, that Crowley believes in Aziraphale's worth and goodness and values it above literally EVERYTHING ELSE IN THE FUCKING UNIVERSE. He can't see the good parts of himself, but by God, he can sure see every wonderful thing about Aziraphale. I can only imagine the expression on his face if he were ever to hear someone say Aziraphale is a villain. We saw how upset he got at the implication that Aziraphale was his "bit on the side", not for his own sake but for Aziraphale's.

He would not stand for this kind of talk.

I just want to say a lot of fans appear sideswiped by aziraphale’s actions, but yet I think those of us begging artists and authors and meta writers to acknowledge aziraphale’s unaddressed trauma were not shocked.

At. All. If you dig around tumblr, 2019-2020-2021 especially, there are handfuls of very good posts talking about how the trend of fandom was to excuse or focus on crowley’s trauma and how fan fiction leaned towards aziraphale having to apologize to crowley for causing trauma or fiction focused on everyone healing crowley’s trauma while not even acknowledging aziraphale’s trauma.

Or worse, writing him or expecting him to suddenly heal or swallow down his trauma to attend to crowley’s.

Now I think it’s jumped up and bit them in the ass. So will these fans double down and villianize aziraphale even more due to his season 2 actions while insisting Crowley is still traumatized and flawless? or will they acknowledge they are both deeply hurt internally and externally and both flawed and neither are mean doodie heads to need to grovel?!?!?!

[dafuq-i-did-not-sign-up-for-this]

Lancelot would have more chemistry with Nasiens than with Guinevere if executed correctly, fight me.

For elaboration:

I don't necessarily hate Guinevere as a character. I don't like her either, she could have absolutely slayed, but Nakaba can't write female characters for shit. So yes, for now I wanna smash my screen every time she appears. It's how she was introduced that ruins both how I view her from outside, and how Lancelot views her in world, if we keep the romance plot in mind.

Listen: she straight up told him they're gonna be a couple before ANYTHING else. No matter what happens from this point forth, that's gonna be his first impression of her. That's how Nakaba set up this relationship. It IS going to impact the development of their feelings for each other in universe. Their base is gonna be: destined-to-be-with-each-other. You hate me now? Doesn't matter, you're going to love me, I've seen the future.

Seeing as Nakaba did a (vaguely) similar thing with Melizabeth (elaboration for another post), it's probably gonna play a gigantic part in their dynamic for each other.

Most likely at the expense of an actual explanation why they work as a couple and what they like in each other.

Also she's twelve. COME ON.

So yes, I haven't been fond of this couple from the beginning, but right now it might actually ruin the series for me, which would be freaking sad cause it's so great on so many levels.

But hear me out:

Nasiens.

I know on first sight it's a bit of an asspull. Definite crackship. Nasiens has a pretty big crush on Percival. But.

Both Nasiens and Lancelot are pretty no-nonsense, to put it in Donny's words. I can see them both ready to do what needs to be done, for example killing someone if absolutely necessary. Not to the same extent, but Nasiens is pretty ready to fight for his friends. I can totally see him killing someone if it's to protect Percy for example. Since this is a point of conflict between Anne and Lance, and a big part of his character set up, they might click, and Lance might trust him and "respect" him for that. They might bond deeper over the difficulty of that decision, or over their morals in general.

Lancelot is without question the strongest person in their group, Nasiens the smartest. They give me low-key parent friend vibes. They're the two most reliable characters of the group, if you're looking at who got them out of trouble most times (overlooking Percy's hope powers).

Reminder, Lancelot was the reason Nasiens could tag along with the group in the first place, because he thought his powers might be useful.

Then there's something that might also work with Percy, and that might actually come up as point in his relationship with Lancelot, but it's established that Nasiens was extremely lonely before the others stumbled into his life.

Lancelot as well. He's much stronger than anyone around him, probably feels the need to protect them, or at least thinks: I'll do this alone, everyone else will just slow me down. He feels he doesn't quite belong with the Fairies, or humans. He's probably been isolated for a long time at the lake, or might feel out of place coming back. He told Guinevere he hasn't talked about Jericho or the lake with anyone, so that is that. He might feel nobody will understand.

Nasiens is a very attentive person. On the surface, he figured Lancelot out pretty well so far. He might notice that loneliness and talk to him about it, tell him all of them are there for him, because he knows what it feels like and how terrible it is without people to rely on.

Out of all of them, Nasiens is really the only one who knows the Fairy Clan and how they tick, because he's lived with them. Also, the alcohol thing? Drink off and Nasiens cheating with his magic? Yes? Please? Gimme?

Those are just a bunch of points I noticed might work into their dynamic, and I really love it. There's a lot more. There's a lot potential, not even necessarily romantic, but certainly more than what Guinevere and Lancelot currently have. To be fair, we've known Guin for two chapters. We don't know a lot about her character. But their set up is already terrible, so that's not a good start.

I will continue to ship Nasiens and Lancelot and pretend Guin doesn't exist nevertheless and no one can stop me.

[thevalleyisjolly]

Hi there! If you feel up to it, would you be willing to expand a bit more on the idea of white creators creating poc characters who are ‘internally white’, especially in a post-racialized or racism-free setting & how to avoid it? It’s something I’m very concerned about but I haven’t encountered a lot of info about it outside of stories set in real world settings. Thanks & have a good day!

Hey, thanks for asking, anon!  It’s a pretty nuanced topic, and different people will have different takes on it.  I’ll share my thoughts on it, but do keep in mind that other people of colour may have different thoughts on the matter, and this is by no means definitive!  These are things I’ve observed through research, trial and error, my own experiences, or just learning from other writers.

The first thing I guess I want to clarify is that I personally am not opposed to a society without racism in fiction.  It’s exhausting and frankly boring when the only stories that characters of colour get are about racism!  So it’s a relief sometimes to just get to see characters of colour exist in a story without dealing with racism.  That being said, I feel like a lot of the time when creators establish their settings as “post-racial,” they avoid racism but they also avoid race altogether.  Not aesthetically -they may have a few or even many characters with dark skin- but the way the characters act and talk and relate to the world are “race-less” (which tends to end up as default white American/British or whatever place the creator comes from).  Which I have complicated thoughts on, but the most obvious thing that springs to mind is how such an approach implies (deliberately or not) that racism is all there is to the way POC navigate the world.  It’s definitely a significant factor, particularly for POC in Western countries, but it’s not the only thing!  There’s so much more to our experiences than just racial discrimination, and it’s a shame that a lot of “post-racial” or “racism-free” settings seem to overlook that in their eagerness to not have racism (or race) in their stories.

A quick go-to question I ask when I look at characters of colour written/played by white creators is: if this was a story or transcript I was reading, with no art or actors or what have you, would I be able to tell that this character is a character of colour?  How does the creator signal to the audience that this is a character of colour?  A lot of the time, this signal stops after the physical description - “X has dark skin” and then that’s all!  (We will not discuss the issue of racial stereotypes in depth, but it should be clear that those are absolutely the wrong way to indicate a character of colour).

This expands to a wider issue of using dark skin as a be-all-end-all indication of diversity, which is what I mean by “aesthetic” characters of colour (I used the term “internally white” originally but upon further reflection, it has some very loaded implications, many of which I’m personally familiar with, so I apologize for the usage).  Yes, the character may not “look” white, but how do they interact with the world?  Where do they come from?  What is their background, their family?  A note: this can be challenging with diaspora stories in the real world and people being disconnected (forcibly or otherwise) from their heritage (in which case, those are definitely stories that outsiders should not tell).  So let’s look at fantasy.  Even the most original writer in the world bases their world building off existing things in the real world.  So what cultures are you basing your races off of?  If you have a dark skinned character in your fantasy story, what are the real world inspirations and equivalents that you drew from, and how do you acknowledge that in a respectful, non-stereotyped way?

(Gonna quickly digress here and say that there are already so many stories about characters of colour disconnected from their heritage because ‘They didn’t grow up around other people from that culture’ or ‘They moved somewhere else and grew up in that dominant culture’ or ‘It just wasn’t important to them growing up’ and so on.  These are valid stories, and important to many people!  But when told by (usually) white creators, they’re also used, intentionally or not, as a sort of cop-out to avoid having to research or think about the character’s ethnicity and how that influences who they are.  So another point of advice: avoid always situating characters outside of their heritage.  Once or twice explored with enough nuance and it can be an interesting narrative, all the time and it starts being a problem)

Another thing I want to clarify at this point is that it’s a contentious issue about whether creators should tell stories that aren’t theirs, and different people will have different opinions.  For me personally, I definitely don’t think it’s inherently bad for creators to have diverse characters in their work, and no creator can live every experience there is.  That being said, there are caveats for how such characters are handled.  For me personally, I follow a few rules of thumb which are:

Is this story one that is appropriate for this creator to tell?  Some experiences are unique and lived with a meaningful or complex history and context behind them and the people to whom those experiences belong do not want outsiders to tell those stories.

To what extent is the creator telling this story?  Is it something mentioned as part of the narrative but not significantly explored or developed upon?  Does it form a core part of the story or character?  There are some stories that translate across cultures and it’s (tentatively) ok to explore more in depth, like immigration or intergenerational differences.  There are some stories that don’t, and shouldn’t be explored in detail (or even at all) by people outside those cultures.

How is the creator approaching this story and the people who live it?  To what extent have they done their research?  What discussions have they had with sensitivity consultants/readers?  What kind of respect are they bringing to their work?  Do they default to stereotypes and folk knowledge when they reach the limits of their research?  How do they respond to feedback or criticism when audiences point things that they will inevitably get wrong?

Going back to the “race-less” point, I think that creators need to be careful that they’re (respectfully) portraying characters of colour as obvious persons of colour.  With a very definite ‘no’ on stereotyping, of course, so that’s where the research comes in (which should comprise of more than a ten minute Google search).  If your setting is in the real world, what is the background your character comes from and how might that influence the way they act or talk or see the world?  If your setting is in a fantasy world, same question!  Obviously, avoid depicting things which are closed/exclusive to that culture (such as religious beliefs, practices, etc) and again, avoid stereotyping (which I cannot stress enough), but think about how characters might live their lives and experience the world differently based on the culture or the background they come from.

As an example of a POC character written/played well by a white person, I personally like Jackson Wei and Cindy Wong from Dimension 20’s The Unsleeping City, an urban fantasy D&D campaign.  Jackson and Cindy are NPCs played by the DM, Brennan Lee Mulligan, who did a good job acknowledging their ethnicity without resorting to stereotypes and while giving them their own unique characters and personalities.  The first time he acted as Cindy, I leapt up from my chair because she was exactly like so many old Chinese aunties and grandmothers I’ve met.  The way Jackson and Cindy speak and act and think is very Chinese (without being stereotyped), but at the same time, there’s more to their characters than being Chinese, they have unique and important roles in the story that have nothing to do with their ethnicity.  So it’s obvious that they’re people of colour, that they’re Chinese, but at the same time, the DM isn’t overstepping and trying to tell stories that aren’t his to tell.  All while not having the characters face any racism, as so many “post-racialized” settings aim for, because there are quite enough stories about that!

There a couple factors that contribute to the positive example I gave above.  The DM is particularly conscientious about representation and doing his research (not to say that he never messes up, but he puts in a lot more effort than the average creator), and the show also works with a lot of sensitivity consultants.  Which takes me to the next point - the best way to portray characters of colour in your story is to interact with people from that community.  Make some new friends, reach out to people!  Consume media by creators of colour!  In my experience so far, the most authentic Chinese characters have almost universally been created/written/played by Chinese creators.  Read books, listen to podcasts, watch shows created by people of colour.  Apart from supporting marginalized creators, you also start to pick up how people from that culture or heritage see themselves and the world, what kind of stories they have to tell, and just as importantly, what kind of stories they want being told or shared.  In other words, the best way to portray an authentic character of colour that is more than just the colour of their skin is to learn from actual people of colour (without, of course, treating them just as a resource and, of course, with proper credit and acknowledgement).

Most importantly, this isn’t easy, and you will absolutely make mistakes.  I think the most important thing to keep in mind is that you will mess up.  No matter how well researched you are, how much respect you have for other cultures, how earnestly you want to do this right, you will at some point do something that makes your POC audience uncomfortable or even offends them.  Then, your responsibility comes with your response.  Yes, you’ve done something wrong.  How do you respond to the people who are hurt or disappointed?  Do you ignore them, or double down on your words, or try to defend yourself?  Just as importantly, what are you planning to do about it in the future?  If you have a second chance, what are you going to do differently?  You will make mistakes at some point.  So what are you going to do about them?  That, I think, is an even more important question than “How can I do this right?”  You may or may not portray something accurately, but when you get something wrong, how are you going to respond?

Essentially, it all comes down to your responsibility as a creator.  As a creator, you have a responsibility to do your due diligence in research, to remain respectful to your work and to your audience, and to be careful and conscientious about how you choose to create things.  It’s not about getting things absolutely perfect or being the most socially conscious creator out there, it’s about recognizing your responsibilities as a creator with a platform, no matter how big or small, and taking responsibility for your work. 

In summary:

Research, research, research

Avoid the obvious no-no’s (stereotypes, tokenization, fetishization, straight up stealing from other cultures, etc) and think critically about what creative choices you’re making and why

Do what you’re doing now, and reach out to people (who have put themselves out there as a resource).  There are tons of resources out there by people of colour, reach out when you’re not sure about something or would like some advice!

Responsibility, responsibility, responsibility

Thank you for reaching out!  Good luck with your work!

[golden-pickaxe]

Coffee (Part 5)

Fandom: Vikings

Paring: Ivar x Reader

Type: Modern AU, Office AU

Wordcount: 3619

Warnings: reader drinks wine casually

[Coffee - All Parts Here]

A/N: Here is part 5!

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius​ @punkrocknpearls @mootiemoose​ @istorkyou @dini73​ @heavenly1927​ @hashimily​ @peakywitch​

Summary: You are a graduate student at the University of Oslo, and have applied for a job as a personal assistant at the Lothbrok Corporation, without really knowing much of the position advertised. When it turns out you are going to work for the (in)famous Ivar Lothbrok, your whole life is turned up-side-down.

With Ivar just wearing a t-shirt, instead of his usual well-cut suits, you could very clearly see the strong muscles in his arms, as you watched him pushing his wheelchair out of the pedestrian zone, towards the street. You had to swallow at the sight, hating yourself for the effect this man had on you.

 You walked along side him, finally realising what you had done. Just like a year ago, when the coin had dropped that you had really applied at the Lothbrok Corporation, it now dropped that you had just accepted his invitation to come to his home and let him cook for you. Him, one of the most influential businessmen of Norway. With his own fucking Wikipedia site.

Your heart was pounding rapidly in your chest at the thought, and you bit your lower lip, not quite knowing what this whole thing would mean now. And if it would change anything between you. You hoped not, but in the same way, you did hope.

 Getting your private life mixed up with your job probably was not a good idea. On the other hand, this whole situation kind of freaked you out, but in a good way. It was exciting.

 You and Ivar had reached the street, next to the national gallery, where a few minutes later the taxi arrived. Personally, you would never get a taxi in Oslo, as it was just insanely expensive, but with a lot of public transport, such as the tram you had taken to get here, not entirely being accessible to someone in a wheelchair, you could understand why Ivar had called it.

 Ivar maneuverered himself into one of the back seats, while the driver put his chair into the trunk of the car. You felt Ivar’s blue eyes watching you, as you rounded the vehicle to get into at the other side.

Even though he always successfully overplayed it, you saw that he was a bit self-conscious about his legs, often cursing them underneath his breath when they once again got into his way. He could move them a little bit, and also seemed to have some feeling in them, was even able to stand up for a few moments, if he could support himself with his arms. But in general, they did not really seem to be working.

In the office, Ivar hated to use his wheelchair, often just dragging himself from his desk to his sofa, his immense upper body strength enabling him to pull himself up with not much of an issue.

 Now, sitting next to you in the taxi on the way to his apartment, he readjusted his legs a bit with tight lips, appearing a bit nervous once more. You still could not quite wrap your head around what was happening right now, it all felt a bit like a dream to you. Just so, you managed to resist the urge to pinch yourself.

 Your boss, your grumpy boss, the infamous Ivar Lothbrok had just casually invited you to go out for coffee with him, had questioned you about almost every aspect of your life, paid for your drink, and now took you to his home to cook for you. It almost sounded like a very bad rom-com, like a romance story some bored, lonely woman would think up. Not that you expected it to end that way, of course. Even if you honestly wished it would.

 Until now, even if you sometimes chatted on business trips, your relationship had been purely professional, and you had only been over to his flat once, when you had brought him a set of suits to his home, when there had been issues with his dry cleaner. It had not really surprised you, finding out that he also lived in Majorstuen, actually not very far from you, although it had been a stress factor for you. Of course, he did not live in one of the old buildings, like you did, with paper thin walls, no elevator and wonky doors, no. He lived on the top floor of one of those new, fancy apartment buildings, costing a few ten-million krona, overlooking Frognerparken.

 When you had brought the suits up to his apartment, you had also met a famous Norwegian actor in the lift, so it was clear what kind of people occupied the other flats of the building. You had never been inside his home, had only delivered his suits to his door, but even the entrance and the lift had been very fancy and expensive looking. Admittedly, you had taken a stupid selfie in the mirror of the lift and posted it to Instagram.

 As Aker Brygge was, as stated, not far from Majorstuen, the drive was quite short, and the few minutes of silence were only broken by far too relaxing music coming out of the car radio. The taxi stopped in front of the apartment building Ivar lived in, and he paid the driver, while you got out, retrieving Ivar’s wheelchair from the trunk. You set it up and positioned it next to the car, for him to climb into.

 Ivar clenched his jaw a bit, obviously annoyed at something, even though you were not quite sure what exactly it was that he was annoyed by now, only hoping that it was not you. Well, at least you would have not far home now.

Ivar climbed out of the car, moving himself over to sit in his chair, before unlocking the breaks and rolling towards the door of the building, while the taxi behind you departed.

 Just as you remembered, the entry hall of the apartment complex was very posh, and you were reminded that this was a completely different world from yours. A different world from your shitty apartment, where you could hear almost every conversation your neighbours were having, and where you had push your full body against the bathroom door to get it to close properly.

 Following Ivar to the lift, the two of you got in, and Ivar pressed the button of the top floor. As soon as the doors had closed, Ivar’s eyes were on you, mustering you intently. His gaze was a tad intimidating, you had to admit, once again looking like a predator looking at his prey. Still, you managed to look back with a smile.

 “Are there any things you don’t eat, before I work my magic?” he asked, a smirk on his handsome face. You had to laugh at his choice of words, but told him about any dietary restrictions or things you didn’t like, and Ivar nodded.

 “Alright. I think I know what to make, then.” He leaned back in his chair a bit, biting how lower lip, a move that made your knees feel very weak.

 “Thank you.” It came out of your mouth, earning a very surprised expression from Ivar.

 “What for?” he asked honestly a bit confused, tilting his head at you.

 “For the coffee. And for inviting me over, and for cooking.” You studied his face, hoping to find something there, something that would give up his intentions, something revealing why he was doing this. You just needed to know, needed to know if you could get your hopes up or not. Was this really just a social call because you had been working for him for a year now, or was it something else?

 “Thank me after you’ve tasted my glorious food! Then I will gladly accept your thanks.” Ivar winked, and the elevator doors opened. Ivar left the lift, pulling his keys out of his pocket as he stopped at his front door.

 His flat was the only flat up here, and you guessed it had to be gigantic, covering the whole top floor. You were sure, his flat probably also had a roof terrace.

 You had to admit, this was another thing you found kind of intimidating about this man. The sheer amount of wealth he had, the wealth his family had. While you lived in a flat share with an old kitchen and horrible, tiny bathroom, with just a wet room and not even a proper shower, he lived in this extremely modern, borderline futuristic building, overlooking Oslo.

 Ivar opened the door, and pushed himself into the flat, with you following close behind, walking past him before he closed the door again behind you.

 Obviously you had imagined this place to be huge and expensive, but what you were seeing in front of your eyes was just.. something else.

It was less of a normal flat, and more of a large loft, most of the rooms merged into one big space. There was, similar to his office, a gigantic glass front overlooking the famous park, and West Oslo. The sun was still in the sky, the sunset not being for another one and a half hours or so.

 In the centre of the room was a big, beautiful white sofa, the kind where one could just stretch out like a starfish and not fall down. In front of it was a coffee table made out of driftwood and glass, the dark wood in stark contrast with the sofa. On the right of it were large, metal, urban looking bookshelves, filled with many thick books, some leather bound and old looking, dividing the living area from the ‘bedroom’, and there were a few doors opposite of the windows, that seemed to lead into extra rooms, probably the bathroom and other rooms.

 Behind the bookshelf you could see a large bed at the wall, so large in fact that you were sure that it could comfortably fit three to four fully grown people. It was covered and surrounded in white and grey furs, sheep and reindeer as far as you could tell from the distance. Furs also covered parts of the marble floor of the flat.

 There were many more furs on and in front of the sofa, and in general it seemed that grey, white and black, together with different shades of brown were the only colours in the whole apartment, making it look very sophisticated.

 On the left-hand side was a giant, very modern kitchen, seemingly equipped with everything a cook could wish for, with a large kitchen isle and a big table in front of it, a rustic looking piece of furniture, made of wood and carved with beautiful knot patterns, probably hand made by a very skilled Scandinavian carpenter knowing a lot about medieval woodcarving.

 The kitchen itself, you noticed, was lower than what you were used to, and while it confused you for a moment, you quickly realised that it was built so that Ivar could easily reach everything from his wheelchair, without having to get any help.

 “Welcome to my humble home.” You heard Ivar’s voice behind you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You swallowed and turned to him, looking at him as he watched you with a knowing smile on his lips.

 You could not hold back a laugh.

“Humble?” you simply asked, slipping out of your shoes and walking further into the big room, looking around.

 The whole flat was modern and elegant, yet had such a rustic and clearly Scandinavian aesthetic, it was truly impressive. Whoever was the interior designer, was truly a genius, and showed an amazing appreciation for medieval Scandinavian design. Similar works you had only seen in the Folksmuseet in Bygdøy.

 The walls that were not made out of glass were covered in picture frames, displaying either old Viking artwork or photographs of Norway and Iceland, of runestones and old temples. Somehow, it fitted in perfectly with the rest of the decoration.

 There was a door in the glass front of the flat, leading out, just as you had assumed, onto a large roof top terrace, furnished with even more rustic, wooden, and probably handmade tables and chairs, and, as cliché as it sounded, a beautiful hot tub. It was built into a frame, reminding you of a Viking ship, with a set of carved stairs leading up to it, probably so that Ivar had an easier time to get in and out of it, without requiring any help.

 “Alright, I admit, not so humble.” Ivar chuckled. “It was a present from my father when I started to officially work in the company. He had his friend Floki and his wife Helga design and build this whole thing.”

 That made you turn around to him once more. You knew these names.

“The Floki and Helga?” you swallowed.

 Floki and Helga were very, very famous, highly awarded architects and designers, often hired to design important landmarks and museums. Houses planned by them costing up to a hundred million kronas. They were famous for being able to combine the traditional aesthetics of their ancestors with the modern designs of this century, creating masterpieces that were rewarded all over the world. Now, looking around Ivar’s loft once more, it seemed obvious that this was their handy work.

 “Yes, The Floki and Helga.” Ivar chuckled. “The two of them almost raised me when I was a kid. With my parents busy all the time and me being bound to.. this.” He gestured at is chair. “Floki made all the wooden furniture himself. I am very lucky.”

 “Indeed you are.” You shook your head, unable to believe what you had just heard.

 Obviously, he had been raised by the two of them. Obviously, they had made his home for him, being like family to him, and being friends of his father, the most powerful businessman in Norway, and probably even all of Europe.

By now, you wouldn’t even question, if Ivar casually told you that he was descended from Odin.

 Ivar just shrugged at your words, although the expression on his face was a mixture of amused and pride. He bent down to slip out of his shoes, before moving his wheelchair over to a spot next to the door, where another wheelchair was waiting for him, this one looking a bit different, similar to the ones used by disabled athletes. Easier to navigate and probably a bit more comfortable. Ivar heaved himself up from his chair, navigating himself into the other one, a sigh leaving his lips.

 “I don’t fancy the dirt from the streets in my home.” He explained at your confused face, before he pushed himself towards you.

Oh yes, that made sense. Just as both of you had taken off your shoes, it would only be logical for him to also ‘change wheels’.

 A faint smile was on his lips, as he looked up and into your face, his expression soft and open, something you were not quite used to from him. His body language was relaxed too, his arms simply resting in his lap, as his head was once again tilted slightly.

He was truly a beautiful man, you had to admit. It was difficult to ignore, and sometimes you caught yourself staring in meetings, hoping that no one had noticed how your eyes had been practically glued to your boss. Solveig had made fun of you even more, when you had told her about it.

 “I think I’m going to start to cook now, before we starve to death. So, sit down, get comfortable.” He winked at you, before moving his chair towards the kitchen, in the process letting the wheelchair roll a bit, while he pulled his long hair into a tight bun at the back of his head. “Or would you like to help?” he looked back at you with a raised eyebrow, looking at you from underneath his long eyelashes. You had to swallow.

 “Well, I am still your personal assistant. So, I will assist you.” You smiled, following him into the kitchen. You hoped that reminding yourself that you were still his employee would calm your nerves.

 “I had hoped you’d say that, dove.” There it was again, that nickname. Your nerves were certainly not calm now.

 Ivar started to pull out pans and a cutting board, gesturing at the fridge for you to take out certain ingredients and washing them in the sink.

 You were not entirely sure what he was going to make, but you were positively surprised that his fridge and his whole pantry was stocked very well. You had to admit, you had taken him for one of those bachelors who had never touched their kitchen in their lives, and with all the money they had always ate out.

 But, as Ivar casually explained while you were preparing food, he enjoyed cooking for himself, and did so almost every evening.

While you were washing some vegetables, and he was skilfully cutting up an onion, he casually told you about the cooking schools he had visited when he was younger, and about the occasional dinner parties he threw for his close friends and family, where he cooked up five course meals for them all by himself. He moved around his kitchen as if he knew every millimetre of it, knowing the layout like the back of his hand.

 You enjoyed this far too much. You rarely saw Ivar this casual, only on business trips when he was not in the mood to talk about work anymore. And though you did not like to admit it, you were keen to know more about his personal life, to know more about the man behind the name Lothbrok.

 It was nice to see him here, in his home. He seemed so at ease, so open, the usual anger and annoyance he often seemed to carry around with himself in day-to-day life completely absent in this moment. This was his space, where he did not have to worry, to think about what upset him.

 This flat truly seemed to be his place, and his place alone. His kingdom far from the influence of other people. Here he was himself, independent of everyone else, everything built in a way that he did not need help from other people.

 Whatever else would come of tonight, you were just happy that you could witness this. You would see Ivar differently now, you knew. And would probably fall even more for him.

 You noticed it getting a bit darker out, and a quick look at your phone told you that it was already half past nine PM. It had not seemed that long, getting to Ivar’s home and starting to cook, as you had not even finished the preparation for cooking yet, but frankly, you didn’t even mind. The setting sun tinted the whole apartment in a magical, golden light, making it look even more beautiful and magical. Ivar’s face turned away from his work for a moment, his blue eyes wandering over the horizon, where the sky was slowly tinted in orange, pink and purple. A faint smile appeared on his face, before he returned his attention to the food.

 Absently minded you put your phone on the kitchen isle, before you grabbed a jar of mixed spices, which Ivar had instructed you to get for him while he was still cutting up vegetables. You read the label, not surprised that he had not purchased them in Norway, but in Spain, turning around, eyes still on the jar. Thus, you only noticed too late that Ivar was right behind you, his chair almost inaudible on the marble floor.

 With a slightly embarrassing yelp escaping your throat, you lost balance, tripping over Ivar’s wheelchair, falling over and landing straight in his lap. His strong arms were suddenly around you to keep you from completely falling to the floor, and your face probably had taken on a crimson shade.

 “Careful there, dove. I’m usually not that hard to miss.” He smirked, to your surprise not even remotely angry with you.

 You had once, in your third month at the Lothbrok Corporation, seen a small clerk run into him in the office, who had been a bit late and had not really paid attention. After Ivar had yelled at him for good twenty minutes, he had never been heard of again.

 “Gods, I’m so sorry, I..” but you stopped, swallowing, not knowing what to say. You tried to get up, the jar of spices still in your hand, but Ivar’s strong grip around you firmly held you in place.

 The man tilted his head, eye flickering to the glass container you were holding. He let go of you with one of his arms, while the other one was still around you, taking the jar from your hands and placing it on the counter next to him. His blue eyes mustered you once more. Your heart was pounding. In the light of the setting sun he looked even more handsome than he had already.

 “I have told you, that you look good today, right?” he asked, his voice low. His hand had returned to hold you again, and you noticed his fingers carefully caressing your back, which sent a shiver up your spine.

 Your mind was racing, as was your heart.

You could not but stare into his piercing blue eyes, not sure what to say, how to respond to him right now, or if you should say anything at all. You were unable to think even one coherent thought, as you felt his strong arms around you, his firm body below you, and his hot breath against you skin.. wait. When had he gotten this close to you?

 Before you could really comprehend what was happening, you suddenly felt Ivar’s lips against yours, not firm, but soft, almost shily moving against yours. In that moment, it was as if your mind just gave up, and turned itself off.

[starlightrows]

4 — The New King

The Queen of Tatooine Masterlist

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Pairing: Boba Fett x reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Discussion of losing parents, mention of disordered eating, bed sharing

Summary: Saved from an untimely death by starvation and exposure, Boba offers you a place in his palace

*This chapter contains an Easter Egg for an upcoming series that severely deviates from canon*

When you wake up your head is throbbing and you feel sick to your stomach, you’re so hungry. But the one thing you don’t feel, is cold. In fact you’re actually quite warm and comfortable at the moment. You crack your eyes open and are confused to find yourself wrapped in a worn blue blanket, laying in what looks like a large storage closet with a mattress on the floor.

You peer out the open door and see you’re on a ship. How did this happen? Who’s ship is this? Suddenly your stomach growls loudly… you smell something… something good. It doesn’t matter who’s ship this is, you have to eat whatever it is that smells that good.

You clamber out of the sleeping closet and see Boba turning off a hot plate and sealing a bag that surely must contain dehydrated food. He turns when he hears you.

You stare at him, at the food. You’re confused and starving. Having no idea what to stay you just stand there.

He offers you a hand, a gesture to approach “It’s not the most flavorful or healthy dining option” he says “but it’s hot, and will be ready in just a few minutes”

You step closer cautiously and look up at his face “How did you find me?” You ask in an unsteady voice

“I went back to the inn and saw what happened to it. And the town. Followed the road, I figured you’d take the shorter path with water even though it would be uphill and colder” he explains, handing you the sealed bag and a long handled spoon. You open the bag and dig in, not even caring what it is. “Eat slowly Princess, you’ll make yourself sick”

He’s right. You’ve seen it before. Travelers who haven’t eaten in days… weeks even… come to the inn and eat a lot of food in a short period of time… they land up retching in the woods behind the inn. So you slow down and actually taste the food as you eat it.

You make it about half way through the meal before you feel a little sick. You don’t normally eat this much food to begin with. So you set aside the bag of food and let your stomach settle. Boba is eating from a similar bag of food. You study your current meal companion and apparent savior.

“Why did you come back? Why did you come after me?” You ask

“I told you I would” he says “I came back to extend you an invitation, to come to Tatooine”

“You want me to go to Tatooine with you?” You're surprised by that. Sure he’s said it the last time you’d met, but you didn’t think he’d meant it. Men who pass through little towns like yours generally don’t keep promises to return.

“You don’t have to by any means” he says “But the offer is on the table”

“I can’t exactly refuse, can I? My home and businesses are gone…” This is coming out all wrong. This man just saves your life and you’re treating him like he planned this all out “I’m sorry… that was rude and ungrateful”

“You are not wrong” he points out “Put it another way. As you have said, you can’t go back. So I’ll offer you a choice, Princess. Come with me to Tatooine, or tell me anywhere you’d like to go and I will take you there”

“You would really do that? Just ferry me anywhere in the galaxy or take me back with you to Tatooine? That is a kindness I can’t repay”

“You already have. You saved my life that night in the storm. And I did promise you I would come back for you”

“Why?” You ask in a whisper “why would you come all the way back here? You owe me nothing… even if I did let you come in that night”

“Because you made an impression, little one. I found myself thinking about the sweet innkeeper at the edge of the universe often. Even before you saved my life. I always planned on coming back for you, I only wish I had done so sooner”

You let his words sink in. I always planned on coming back for you. You can feel your heart beating in your chest and your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’ll go with you” you say softly “back to Tatooine… Let me work in the kitchens or something to be useful in your household”

“We can talk about that later” He chuckles. “I know it isn’t flavorful, but I want you to eat and get more rest. Replenish your strength”

Your stomach is full, given that you usually don’t eat heavily on a regular basis. But he’s right, you know you need to eat more. Not just right now to recover from hypothermic exposure, but in general. That’s always been a struggle for you. But you do try. The food is right there, and he has been kind enough to offer it you freely.

Boba returns to the cockpit to manually fly his ship, you force yourself to eat at least a few more bites of the rehydrated food he prepared for you. You take the blanket from the cot where you woke up with you, and climb up into the cockpit to sit with him.

He doesn’t turn when you slide into the seat next to him but he does when he notices you wrapping the blanket over your shoulders.

“Apologies Princess” he says “This ship was not built for comfort”

“It’s alright. Just a little cold” you run the edge of the blanket between your finger tips

“You won’t be cold when we reach Tatooine” he chuckles

“No, I suppose not. I’ve heard Tatooine’s binary suns make it so that nothing grows” you can’t imagine it. A world where nothing grows. You grew up in the greenery of a forested planet, at the base of a mountain with rich soil for growing vegetables.

“Tatooine is rather desolate” he admits “Most of the palace is actually built underground to keep cool”

“The palace” you muse “And how does being king suit you so far?”

“The Hutt’s left that place a mess. The palace and their business affairs. It’s all been a nightmare cleaning it up” he admits “My partner Fennec and I have only been able to clear out a few rooms, the business affairs take precedent”

The word partner pulls you up short. Your heart sinks. Partner… your mind immediately jumps to significant other. If that’s the case, then why is he inviting you into their space? Does this person know Boba has made this journey to see you? Do they know he’s bringing you back with him? Your mind races, and you feel a bit measure of panic setting in. What if this partner has no idea, and gets angry? What if this situation turns sour and you have to figure out somewhere else to go?

“You’re awfully quiet” Boba observes “Have I said something to offend you?”

You figure you may as well ask… better to know what you’re walking into rather than go in blind. “Your partner” you swallow the waver in your voice “What are they like?”

“She’s a former bounty hunter like me” he says

Oh no… now you’re really in trouble…

“Hmm… and she’s just fine with you flying off to the edge of the galaxy to visit an innkeeper?” you try not to make the question sound like an accusation.

He turns to look at you with the ghost of a smile on his lips “You misunderstand little one. Fennec is my business and hunting partner. She has no influence or opinion over my personal affairs”

Relief floods your heart, followed instantly by embarrassment. “Oh, that’s… that’s good I suppose. I just didn’t want… I didn’t mean… I just don’t want to cause problems”

“You’re not causing problems. I offered this to you, and to be honest I am glad you accepted,” he admits

That makes you feel better, a little more at ease. In that moment, you realize why you’d reacted so suddenly and severely in your mind. You like him.

You haven’t had many crushes in your life, not a ton of opportunity for it. When you were young there were a few other kids your age in the settlement, maybe one or two of them caught your interest, a few secret kisses in the barn or behind the one roomed school building, but it never lasted, and for good reason. The people who passed through your inn were never really the type you had interest in either. Until now…

Hours pass sitting in the cockpit next to him, chatting about your life in the settlement and his traveling on his own since the age of ten.

You don’t want to pry, but you do make a comment on it “Ten is quite young to be on your own”

“You said yourself you were young when your parents passed and left you with the inn” he points out

“Suppose loss like that makes a person independent” you sigh

“Would have been nice if we didn’t have to be independent so early in life” he said curtly

“I would have liked to have brothers or sisters” you say wistfully “At least things seemed to turn out well enough”

“I think if my father had lived longer, I would have had a younger sibling” Boba says “I think my mother wanted a another son or daughter”

“Your mother never found love again?” You ask sympathetically

“No idea, I haven’t seen her since the beginning of The Clone Wars” he says, starting the command sequence to drop out of hyperspace

Since the beginning of The Clone War… over thirty years ago… “That’s very sad” you say quietly

“It’s better this way. I don’t think she would be proud of some of the things I’ve done” he says “But maybe someday I’ll find out what happened to her” You take that as a queue to drop the subject.

The ship drops out of hyperspace, and Boba starts the landing approach sequence. Tatooine is a massive planet. Even from space you can see it’s yellow sand and rock formation topography. It’s a wonder how any species manages to live there, given the prominent lack of water or greenery.

As the ship flys down closer to the surface you find that the chill of space dissipates, and heat radiating off the planet's surface permeates through the reinforced walls of the ship. You shed the blanket that had been keeping you warm before even touching down.

The palace is massive. The biggest structure you’ve ever seen. Three cylindrical towers built into the cliffs overlooking The Great Dune Sea.

Boba engages the ground security protocols, and lowers the ramp and escorts you to the intimidating durasteel door. There are no guards, no one patrolling to prevent entry. Boba opens the door with no indication of announcing his entry. The entryway is a short sandy strip of a room leading to a descending staircase.

He offers his arm to you “Careful Princess, these shifting sands make these steps more slippery than you’d expect”

You accept his offer, and place your hand in the crook of his arm and start down the staircase. He’s not wrong, loose sand on stone is slippery and you are glad to have his arm for stability.

The staircase ends and leads into a large space clearly meant to entertain groups. The room is in disarray. It is clear, based on the drag marks and blood splatter in the sand, Bib Fortuna and whoever else of Jabba’s entourage remained died at the hands of Boba and his partner. Outcropping in the stone walls lined with low couches, pillows, tables and chairs. Many of which are broken or knocked over. A large grate in the center of the floor sits at the foot of an elevated platform. A throne.

Boba lets your arm go, freeing you to move about the space and explore. He ascends the shorter staircase to reach the throne and sits, quietly observing you. After a moment you turn to him, and take in his regality. He’s intimidating with his emotionless helmet and solid stanced posture. A king in every right.

You smile at him and give a small curtsy “My lord”

He chuckles behind his mask, so very contrary to the stoic picture he paints with his armored silhouette. “Come, allow me to show you the rest” He rises from his seat, and extends a hand for you to take.

He shows you down a hallway lined with doors, explaining they’re private rooms previously used for guests. “Most of them haven’t been cleaned in decades”

“You would think with all the credits the Hutt’s had, they’d pay for cleaning services” you shake your head

“Unfortunately I haven’t had the time to clear out many of the private quarters. Just the Master’s chambers and a single guest room Fennec uses” he tells you, turning down a hallway with an ornate door at the end. Clearly the Master’s chambers he was referring to.

The room is bigger than the footprint of your inn. High ceilings to let hot air rise, an en-suite fresher with a deep soaking tub, a massive bed is the only furniture left in the room. It’s beautiful despite not being decorated or well maintained. But you could imagine it was much worse if this is what Boba describes as “cleaned out”.

“If you are comfortable, I would like to invite you to stay with me in the Master’s chambers” he says from behind you “At least until a room can be cleared out for you, if you so choose”

You whip around to look at him. An offer to share a bed with a king. He must see the touch of fear in your eye because he quickly speaks again.

“I have no intention of asking favor of you. I only wish to make sure you’re comfortable here. You have my word.”

You soften at his promise, and give a silent nod before thinking better of his hospitality. “Thank you”

Later that day you finally meet Boba’s infamous partner, Fennec Shand. She’s got a sharp eye, quick wit and a taste for good spotchka. It’s an interesting tale to hear how they came to meet and land up in each other’s company.

As there are not yet staff or guards in Fett’s employ, dinner is some kind of hunted desert beast Fennec killed yesterday. It’s actually not too bad, but not like the game hunted on your homeworld.

“In time we will get this sorry excuse for a capital back up and running” Boba says when the meal is finished “Full staff and guard and reopen trade”

“I can help begin clearing out the palace” you offer “Make suitable accommodations for your staff and guard, and any allies that may come to stay”

Boba looks to you “You are not obligated to do so little one, but your help is appreciated”

“I enjoy having projects” you admit with a smile “Things to work on and keep me busy”

“Then you make take the task, for so long as you choose” he smiles at you.

Despite his haggard appearance, Boba has a nice smile. It softens him, brings out the light in his eyes. You find yourself returning the smile, and unable to wipe it from your face.

The evening comes to an end. Fennec excuses herself to return to her own bed chambers. Not without casting a sidelong glance between you and Boba, still chatting away. Eventually Boba leads you back to his own chambers. True to his word, he takes his robes into the fresher to allow you the privacy to change into borrowed sleeping clothing.

“I’ll buy you new clothes tomorrow” he promises, climbing into the oversized bed beside you.

Your impulse is to thank him politely and decline the offer, but given that you are his guest and no longer have property of any kind, it’s a kindness you have to accept.

“Thank you” your cheeks burn with heat, a little embarrassed to be needing so much from him at the moment. Borrowed clothing, a place in his palace and in his bed.

You get down under the blanket on the bed. Night time in the desert is quite cold, and sandstone walls that keep the palace cool during the day turn the air chilly when the binary suns set.

Boba turns towards you, laying on his side, he looks as if he wants to say something. Ask you something. But instead he just stares, with his dark soulful eyes and seemingly perfect hint of a smile

“Goodnight Princess”

Tag List: @cannedsoupsucks @otterly-fey @paige6768 @littledragonlady @star-hoes @aeryntheofficial @xx-small-town-witch-xx

[skei-seems]

Professor Reid (PART 2)

(Click here for PART 1:)  https://skei-seems.tumblr.com/post/642651570175148032/professor-reid

Summary: (con’t) After a steamy interaction with her professor on a school trip and a bad misunderstanding, Y/N tries to make up for her mistake when a new opportunity arises.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x (female) reader

Category: Smut [NSFW]

Warnings: Smut, Age Gap, Swearing

A/N: Thank you for all the love on part 1. Please like/reblog, I would really love to hear your thoughts and feel free to send me requests. Hope you guys like it! :)

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Spencer didn’t know what had caused you to change so suddenly, he wanted to talk but you were so good at avoiding him. He wanted to tell you it was all a mistake, that it never should have happened, but the other part of him wanted, no needed, you in every way.  Prior to the trip he dealt with a bad breakup - his girlfriend cheated on him - and it had pushed him far enough to want your sweetness and innocence more than ever.  If only you would let him talk to you...

      A sharp wind of breath swirled into his lungs when he saw you that evening, you looked breathtaking.  Your hair flowed perfectly around your face, and your body fit so well in your tight clothing, he adored that you always wore sneakers despite the rest of the group’s formal attire.  He just couldn’t avert his eyes from this goddess of a woman.

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      He was looking at you like a meal.  Those melting eyes still sent shivers down your spine. Annoyed, you occupied yourself with your phone while the group waited in line.  The booming music made it difficult to hear yourself think once you were all inside.  The place was modern and extremely crowded, and the music more popular and recent.

      The song playing was not to your taste, though there was something about the loudness sending vibrations through your chest, and the strong amount of perfume and cologne in the air that reverberated into an intense excitement in the pit of your stomach.  Some of the group seated themselves at a table overlooking the crowded dance floor, the rest scattered out to join the dancing bodies or to get drinks. After getting a drink, you took a seat across from Professor Reid. He watched you tentatively through the first bit of the night, and you shifted a little your seat. Those penetrating brown eyes through his blonde curls had the tendency to burn holes in you.

      You bit your lip, an idea had lit up in you. You downed the last of your drink and headed straight into the crowd, and joined their rhythmic movements. Soon, a good looking guy your age started to dance with you. He was cute, you couldn’t deny that, but he wasn’t... him. Nevertheless, it was part of your plan. Initiating phase two, you moved closer until you were dancing like you and Spencer had the other night. Your eyes wandered around until they landed on him, he was staring at you, eyes lit with a fire that you could see even from the distance where you were standing. You smirked, and continued moving without breaking eye contact. Suddenly, and without warning, the handsome stranger you were tangling with pushed his tongue down your throat. OK, none of that, you thought to yourself. It had not been part of your plan. Fed up, you pushed the horny man off of you and strode out of the club.

      The fresh air was a relief like no other. Not even halfway through a night at the club, and you had already had enough. You rested against the wall of the building, a spot where there wasn’t a crowd of people waiting in line. Before you could make a move to start walking home, a slim body appeared in front of you.

“What was that about?” Professor Reid’s voice came out as husked, right against your face as he pushed both of his hands on the wall beside your face, trapping you between him and the wall.

Unable to conjure up an explanation in the closed proximity, you gulped and looked into those two orbs of honey. 

You pushed him away, regaining some posture. “What was that about? Really,” you spat out. “What’s you-having-a-girlfriend about?!”

The bit of shouting had caused adrenaline to course through your body, your chest was heaving. He looked taken aback at your accusation.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his tone changing to a much softer one.

“I heard you on the phone in the cafeteria.”

He slowly took a deep breath. “That was my little sister, really.” 

      The look in his eye told you he wasn’t lying, you didn’t have to be a profiler to see that. For a moment you were dumbstruck, but the professor spoke again before the silence stretched too long.

“I did have a girlfriend,” this information came differently as you previously took it, when it was just an assumption. “I broke up with her not long ago,” he looked away, “she cheated on me.”

      Guilt quickly built up in you, unlike it had before when you thought you would be a wedge in someone else’s relationship. No, this was something new, something mixed with shame. 

“Professor,” you finally said. “I’m... sorry.”

The smart eyes studied you before he shook his golden curls. “You didn’t know. But if you think the other night was a mistake, I get it. It’s fine, we can forget about it.”

Hesitation and guilt kept you from telling him otherwise, your mouth just opened and closed. He pursed his lips, then called a taxi to take you back safely to the hotel. 

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      It had been weeks since the trip, you hadn’t spoken a word to Professor Reid except for a few short answers in class. He seemed back to his old self. You tried, but each time you saw his beautiful golden hair and those god forsaken eyes, and those soft red lips - you could not forget how they had felt on yours - the slick feeling of hunger and lust grew from the pit of your stomach and rose up to your throat.

      You were deep in thought when the door of the classroom swung open and pulled every student’s attention from whatever they had been busying their thoughts with. It was the head of your University, what on earth was she doing here? She searched the class and her eyes landed on you, “Ah, Miss (Y/L/N).”

Trying not to freak out, you hesitantly replied, “Yes, ma’am?”

“Could I borrow a moment of your time after class?”

Wide-eyed, you bobbed your head up and down. “Of course.”

She smiled, then looked at your professor. “Oh, and you as well Doctor Reid, my office.”

      He immediately looked at you, but seemed much less alert than you had. Still, butterflies wove their way through your intestines at your mutual gaze. He broke the eye contact and nodded at the Head Mistress, with that, she left.

      You wanted to communicate with him through telepathy. “Does she know?” Ridiculous, you thought, then cheekily added, “your ass looks good in those pants.” The professor continued with his lecture, you desperately tried to fuse down the blush that had crept up your cheeks and resumed taking notes.

      Not until class was over did you remember the request of the Head Mistress. You didn’t even know where her office was, so you silently followed Doctor Reid. The two of you entered after knocking. She was sitting behind her desk with an eager expression.

“Please, have a seat.”

The two of you lowered onto the leather stools like two naughty school children in a principal’s office. 

“We heard back from the university of your expedition. They said without Y/N, their research project would have been drastically insufficient.”

Professor Reid looked over to you and smiled. “Well I must say, she is one of my best students.”

Your cheeks flushed crimson again. The Head Mistress nodded in approval. “But that’s not why I called this meeting.”

Frozen in your seat, you awaited your fate. Could Spencer hear your heat racing from next to you? Why was he not this nervous?

“I called you in, because I have elected you as your year’s representative to compete against other students across the country in FBI preparation and criminal analogy.”

“Of course,” she continued, “I called Doctor Reid here too as I would like him to be your mentor for the preparation and duration of the program.”

This information was baffling you. “I don’t know what to say, ma’am. I’m, honoured.”

In truth, you were mortified. Hours alone, studying with Professor Reid? You could barely focus in class, but one-on-one? Impossible.

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You were dreading your mentor meetings. The schedule the head mistress had set up for you indicated twice a week, and that was twice too many. Most of them were in the universities library, and some in his classroom. Nervously, you strode through the isles of old books until you found him in the far corner. He looked perfect, like a beam of sunlight, so at home between the rows and piles of books.

“Y/N,” he smiled up at you. It was so easy for him to act normal.

“Hi sir,” you avoided his gaze and sat down.

      Your study session went slowly, and with immense difficulty to concentrate. It was like he was burning you from the other end of the table, unaffected by your presence. Sometimes he would get up and grab a book to show you something, leaning over your shoulder to point out a certain word or image. 

      When it was over, you were so relieved you almost left without saying goodbye. You had started to doubt whether this was going to work at all, until you spoke to your best friend. Her advise was that, if he didn’t let you focus, why should you allow him to focus? You mulled it around for a while, and decided that it was either that, or you’d have to ask for a new mentor. But you knew that would raise question, or worse, hurt his feelings - which you had already done once. 

      From a distance, you could see how utterly childish the idea was, but he had not satisfied your need of him that night back at the hotel. You still craved him, his lips on yours, his hands over your body and him inside of you. You knew some part of him had wanted this too.

So, the next meeting you showed up in the shortest skirt you could find in your closet, and an oversized sweater. What was underneath was a mystery. Professor Reid’s eyebrows climbed his forehead when you entered, he had been reading a book but almost dropped it when he saw your bare legs. A smirk crept up your face, your plan was working.

Sooner or later you knew he would break, or stop you. Of course, he was a profiler, he could see the signs of attraction, nervousness, lust, and whatever else you could possibly feel for him - oblivious to the fact that he had the visible emotional range of a teaspoon. (I hope y’all got that reference) 

“Would you mind fetching the following encyclopaedia for me?” He asked with a layer of honey coating his sexy voice.

You happily obliged and after searching for a while you realised it was on the top most shelf behind him. Perfect. You grabbed a chair and walked over to the section, climbed on top and reached your hand to the book, making sure your skirt hiked up. “This one, sir?” You asked, looking down at him. A low string of swearwords were mumbled from below you. Doctor Reid nodded and quickly looked away from your exposed bottom, occupying himself with tapping his pencil.

Smiling, you seated yourself again and started rolling the back of your pencil between your mouth as he explained something to you. His eyes briefly traveled down to your lips, then back to your eyes. He cleared his throat and adjusted his tie with those large, veiny hands of his - your thighs pressed together. He was making you squirm just by existing, literally anything he did turned you on. When he was deep in focus, he pulled his lip between his teeth or raked a hand through his loose curls.

You let him rest for the next twenty minutes, then decided to take things up a notch, test the waters, if you will. You two were sitting side by side, him facing a little toward you, each focused on diagramming statistics from multiple books, when you “accidentally” dropped your pencil between his spread legs. 

“Oops,” you giggled slightly, quickly getting down before he could.

Taking longer than needed to retrieve the fallen pencil and getting down on your hands and knees, you slowly looked up at him from your position. His lips parted slightly, but he didn’t look away. From between his legs you spoke, “I’m so clumsy today,” and batted your lashes with innocence.

“I see that,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up. 

You got back into your seat, he resumed his work. Maybe your plan wasn’t working, he still seemed calm and collected. You sighed, and were ready to call it quits, when you felt a hand on your thigh. 

When you looked over he wasn’t looking at you, his eyes were on the book on the table and his other hand was tugging on his collar. His touch was sending tingles straight to your core, and you almost moaned when he started rubbing circles on your inner thigh. Damn it, you thought, he was winning now. You didn’t want him to remove his hand, but you didn’t want him to have the upper hand either. So, you stood up - momentarily earning his gaze on you again - and sat on the edge of the table close to him, your legs dangling against his thigh that was facing you. 

He looked up at you with suspicion. “You aren’t supposed to sit on the tables, you know.”

Your higher ground provided some confidence, you leaned in a little to him and in a whisper voice said, “We aren’t supposed to fuck on them either, how about we break more than one rule today?”

His pupils dilated and he pulled his lip between his teeth again, then abruptly stood up. “My office. Now.” He pulled you behind him as he lead the way.

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By the time you had gotten to Spencer’s office, your nerves had worked themselves up into snakes in your stomach. He was pulling you by your wrist, and slammed the door behind you once you got inside. You were pushed once again by those strong hands against the door, he kissed you. The feeling of his soft mouth on yours sent fireworks off behind your closed eyelids. It was bliss. You wove your hands through his hair, but he suddenly stopped kissing you.

“What makes you think you can talk to me like that, and tease me in a library full of people,” he whispered in a husky voice next to your ear, sending tingles down your back.

You bit your lip, the dominant side had come out again - and this time, you were happy to hand over the role of the upper hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Good girl, but I’m gonna have to punish you for that.” The excitement was building up between your legs at such a fast rate you were afraid it would soak completely through your tiny underwear.

“First” you said, and lowered onto your knees in front of him, “let me try to make it up to you.”

He watched you with his mouth open, and moved his hands to your hair. Smirking, you undid his belt and took him out, he was already hard. You licked up the underside, then swirled your tongue over the tip. This earned a loud moan from the professor, and an even louder one when you took him in completely. He guided the rhythm with his hands in your hair as you bobbed your head along his length, taking in what you couldn’t fit with your hands. You felt him twitch, then he suddenly drew you away and pulled up his pants.

“Enough,” he breathed out heavily, “I still want to fuck you.” His words sent chills down your spine. His hair had fallen into his eyes, his shirt and tie hanging askew - this messy look was your favourite.

You wrapped your hands around his neck as he picked you up and carried you you over to his desk, where he reattached your lips. You weren’t getting enough of him, even though your hands were exploring all the places they’ve been missing, until he grabbed your thigh and pushed his hardness onto your core. Electricity sparked between you two. A moan left your swollen lips, and he took this as a sign to continue rubbing onto you.

“You like feeling me against you?” 

“Ahuh,” your reply came out as a half moan.

He put his mouth next to your ear again, “Wait till you feel what it’s like when I’m inside.”

His lips attacked your neck as he pulled off your sweater, only to discover you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. He clicked his tongue, “bad girl.” Shaking his head, he turned you around so you were bent over his desk. A hard hand landed on your behind. Instead of moaning, you inhaled sharply. “That’s it, not too loud.” He approved, and trailed his fingers up between your unclothed thighs.

You felt a little nervous like this, of course you had been fucked before, but never like this. But you wanted, and needed him so badly. “Sir,” you pleaded.

He chuckled, and rubbed you through your underwear, causing you to close your thighs around his hand. In disapproval, he separated your feet again and pulled off your underwear completely. You were left only in your skirt.

“We’ll leave this on,” he huffed, stroking the waistband softly.

The anticipation was too much. He snaked both of his hands around your waist and pulled you closer into a standing position. Now, his lips sloppily kissed into the crook of your neck as his hand moved down your stomach. A gasp left your mouth when his hand reached down there, slowly rubbing your sensitive part. Your body was squirming against his hand, and his free one came up to your throat. 

“Tell me what you want,” he breathed against your cheek.

“I-” you moaned again when his finger started rubbing faster, “-I want you inside of me!”

He smiled, “That’s what I like to hear.”

His fingers left your soaking area, causing you to moan at the loss of contact. You heard him fumbling with his pants again, then felt his bare harness stroke against you, which produced another moan. He bent you over his desk again, and without warning, slammed into you. Adjusting to his size was difficult, but when he gradually started pumping in and out it gave some relief. Your breathing was now coming out as loud sighs every time he dragged back into you, steadying himself by holding your right hip by hand and using the other to hold onto the desk.

“Faster,” you pleaded.

He swore and started pounding harder, in and out. Moans filled the air of his office. The fast rhythm was now building into a climax, you were getting closer with each thrust. You knew by the sounds coming from him that he was close too. “More,” you almost yelled. He obliged and thrusted until you were hitting the desk each time he pound into you. Pressure started to build up in your legs, you were so close. He grunted and continued slamming into you, every thrust feeling harder and deeper than the last. You moaned loudly as you reached your climax, the warmth causing him to reach his own. With a few more sloppy thrusts, he pulled out. You shakily sat down, out of breath and satisfied beyond what you had ever imagined possible. 

“That’s my girl,” he cooed and kissed you once again after pulling on his pants.

Professor Reid looked at you with the same intrigue that made you need all this in the first place, and for the rest of the mentoring, this continued.

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A/N: I will be writing more Spencer Reid x reader, please send me requests (I will also write for characters from other shows/movies/books).

[titilationexpress]

StarscreamxReader-Sweet Dreams are made of Screams Ch.1

First ever lemon. Please give your input. Reposting from my Ao3.

You haven’t been able to sleep properly for weeks now. And frankly, you’re wondering if you ever will again in your lifetime.

Yet what caused you to have such a problem with something that once came to you so easily? Ok, maybe not easily. No, scratch that. It was never easy. You had to take some sleeping pills every night to even get a few hours in. Still, how did it happen?

Well, the trouble had started back not long ago. In fact, from what you could recall, it hadn’t even been a full month before your ‘problem’ started. See, you were a fairly average individual. You had your quirks, your habits, the little things that make each person an individual. One particular interest you had though was quite specific, and even more, came from a decade long before you were born.

Transformers.

Oh yes, your beginnings were humble when you first started with the franchise, and you looked with wide, awe-filled eyes. Your starting place was where you first discovered it, the one show that will remain in your heart forever. From that, you got into the characters, the story, the lore of what started as a toyline for young boys (though it was clear now that both sexes had a love for it), all of it. And from there, you went on to past and future generations from your starting point, and now, you were a certified Transformers fan! Hell, one of your favorite sites ever is TFWiki.

With this entrance into the fandom, you took to devouring everything that you could: the cartoons and animes, the books, the movies, fanfiction, fanart, fan comics, doujinshi, anything and everything that you could get your hands on, you did. And not long after, you began contributing yourself, drawing, writing, whatever you could to make your stand and have your place in the community. At first, it worked well enough, you weren’t exactly prolific, yet you were doing well enough. You managed to get a few requests for certain things to be drawn/written, believe it or not, but still, you weren’t overly big.

And then came your discovery of the Reader genre.

What is the Reader genre? Why, as far as you were concerned, only one of the greatest genres ever to be conceived! Well, to be more accurate, the form of writing wasn’t anything new, remembering the ‘Choose Your Adventure’ books. It seemed said genre now spread everywhere, you being very aware of the numerous games and dating sims that ranged from well done and engaging to outright ridiculous and stupid (but those were fun in their unique way). And since you didn’t have any knowledge or time to do that, you settled for writing them yourself. Your first piece was a simple Optimus x Reader with the standard plot and standard outcome, which was a declaration of love and a resulting kiss with the Autobot Leader. You were NOT expecting the overflow of response that it had gotten. You were quite shocked, but at the same time, overjoyed. Soon, you decided to try your luck with another one, this one being of Bumblebee, the scenario being mostly the same, albeit with a bit more cutesy fluff, as in your mind, Bumblebee was always the little guy. This one was just as successful, and you beamed, having finally found your calling.

Since then, you were getting requests left and right for more and more choices, all spanning different universes. From the animated cartoons to the comics, different universes, everything that spanned from the most well-known incarnations to the more obscure. It was through these that you managed to get even more into the Transformers multiverse as a whole and even discovered some truly overlooked gems. You opened yourself up to the people and declared that you would write whatever they requested, but you had some taboos that you wouldn’t touch. But any scenario, character, and universe, all of that was fair game.

You had originally begun working on more mundane, typical stories with expected outcomes (but sweet ones nonetheless), yet over time, the requests and your imagination began getting more creative and crazy. Soon, you were delving into several different areas that you had never touched. Elves, goblins, mermaids, vampires, forbidden love, love triangles, all of these were laid at your feet. And while it took a bit to find your rhythm, all of this having come on you so fast, you eventually got it and soon, you had a wide collection of X Reader stories, ranging from G1 to Prime and IDW’s run.

You mainly did Autobots, for you had to admit that writing for them, while they were still complex characters, came somewhat easier for you. True, each of them had their faults and quirks (both from canon and headcanons people had come up with), yet they were still the good guys, and even those with more questionable morality still came out as heroes in the end. But then one day came where you were asked to write about a Decepticon. This threw you for a loop, as, while the thought had intrigued you, you had been writing for good guys for some time, so a total shift in direction was somewhat off-putting and scary. Possibilities of it being too saccharine or sweet, or getting the characters wrong or out of character scared you a bit, yet still, you wanted to test the waters and see if you could do it. And if you could, this would open up so much more for you.

And judging from the input, you had just struck gold yet again.

Soon, not only were you flooded with requests for Autobots, but now their foes were also available, and, as you found out, people had just as much an attraction for the darkness as they did for the light. Again, the same scenarios were implemented, yet now, they had something of a darker edge to them, which allowed you to explore some subjects you couldn’t touch with the Autobots without toning it back somewhat. In a way, the Decepticons provided you with more freedom. Ironic, seeing as Megatron’s motto was “Peace through Tyranny.”

That said, you went through the list of available characters throughout the generations, and so far, those had been garnering quite a following as well, your Autobot and Decepticon stories neck and neck in popularity. Everything seemed to be going well for you.

Then that one question came.

‘Hey, where’s Starscream?’

Then another.

‘Could you write one about Starscream?’’

Then another.

‘Hey, hate to bother you, yet I think that Starscream could use some love here.’

More and more questions and requests for the particular Decepticon filled your messages, and frankly, you were at a loss on what to do. Truth be told, you and Starscream had something of a complicated history. When you had gotten into Transformers, you had heard of the character, yet at first, you never saw why he had gained such a large fanbase. True, he wasn’t a bad character, yet he wasn’t your favorite. But over time, as you wrote more and more for the Decepticons, as well as read X Reader stories from other people, you slowly began to, as one would say, gain an interest in the winged robot. And soon, you found yourself enamored by the smug jerk as well.

But this only made you reluctant to write for him.

True, when you started writing for the Decepticons, you were allowed to experiment with some more intimate and extreme situations, yet with Starscream...it was different. It was hard to explain, yet whenever you got a request to write for him, your brain seemed to seize up. Thoughts came to your head that you had tried to banish, thoughts that came every time you saw the Seeker’s name. You had no idea what was going on or why this was so difficult, yet it seemed the Silver Snake had taken to making your fingers not touch the keyboard.

You had no idea at all. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

And since you had gotten the slew of requests, your sleep problems began. The moment you shut your eyes, the scenario began all over again.

…

You needed no introduction to where you were or what you were seeing, it all quite familiar to you now. Around you were towering walls of a silvery mauve color, the only available light from above sparse and leaving several areas coated in darkness. This place was all too familiar, for you had seen it many times in your watching and reading of Transformers.

You were in Decepticon headquarters.

Your dreams had been filled with the base of the enemy faction of the Autobots, and at first, it had shocked you as to why you were here at all. But over time, night after night, you came here, and soon, you grew accustomed to the sight of it. You took on the form of your Transformers persona/OC or remained in your regular, human form, whatever pleased you as if you had some control over this environment. Yet as you grew more familiar (you were never sure if you’d be comfortable), you began to explore the place, finding that, to your surprise, there was no one here. No signs of any sort of life aboard the ship, and while it took a good while, you traveled everywhere you could think of, and still, nothing. No Megatron, no other Decepticons, no one but you had been aboard.

At least, that was what you believed when you first had this dream. Then, you heard it. The voice. His voice.

“Oooh, I’m the Boogie Man,”

Singing, serenading, just loud enough for you to hear, yet low enough for you to know it was far away. It always started this way.

“The terrible, horrible Boogie Man,”

Your ears/audio receptors registered the voice as it echoed throughout the ship. When the dreams had begun, you knew immediately who was singing, and then you were more surprised at how it sounded. Sure, it had its infamous high pitch, yet it wasn’t bad to listen to. Daresay, it was rather enjoyable in its own way.

“I come in the middle of the night and frighten bad little girls like you.”

The first few times you had this dream, it would almost always startle you, yet it led you to look down the other balls and corridors of the ship. The results were always the same though: no one was aboard. No one but you...and him.

“Beware, better have a care,”

The song changed each and every time you entered the dream, tonight being a track you heard on a video game you played not too long ago (Bioshock 2 you believed). Yet the songs always had the same effect on you.

“I’m going to follow you everywhere.”

Despite your trepidation, you wanted...needed to follow it.

“I crawl through the ceiling and the wall and call on bad little girls like you.”

Walking, then running, you traversed the winding path before you, taking several left and right turns, having no sense of direction but that voice. A voice that, despite its infamous sound, held power to it, a siren’s song in a way. Ironic, you thought. Still, you followed, for you had reached your limit. You knew what would happen if you didn’t find him.

“I’ll torture you and hunt you,”

And never leave.

I’ve got you where I want you,”

And never let you escape this dream.

“A victim of my dark and dirty plot.”

And he knew it too. He knew he had power over you. And you hated it.

“And at the slightest whim, I’ll tear you limb from limb,”

Or…

“In other words, I’ll put you on the spot.”

Did you?

“Oooh, I’m the Boogie Man,”

You were close. So dangerously close.

“The terrible, horrible Boogie Man.”

Just a turn around the corner.

“I come in the middle of the night and frighten…”

He paused, you stopping in your tracks at what you saw. There he was. Situated behind violet bars of energy in a cell, the Decepticon stood there with his arms folded and looking upon you with satisfied, hungry red eyes.

“...bad little girls like you.”

It was him.

Starscream.

Your favorite incarnation of Starscream, those ruby orbs boring into your own eyes/optics. You stepped back from the cell, eyes/optics wide at what was before you. Sure, if you were to go by dream logic, some part of you always knew that it was ‘him’ that awaited you at the end of this journey, but still, to actually see him, standing there so casually when it looked like he was locked up, it chilled you. As if he had absolutely nothing to worry about.

“My, my, so you finally found me,” he said, his voice perfectly matching the incarnation that stood before you. “Or rather, I found you. Whichever way it goes, it doesn’t matter,” he smirked. “For I already know the outcome.”

You blinked a few times, still trying to see if who was before you had truly been there. “St…” you began nervously. “Starscream?”

The Decepticon chuckled and stepped out of the shadows, allowing you to fully see him. “In the mesh,” he said. “And I see that introductions won’t need to be made either, will they, Y/N?” your eyes/optics went wide. “That’s right, pet, I know everything. This IS your mind after all.”

“Wh-What?” you stammered. “I don’t understand.”

Starscream’s grin only grew wider. “You will soon. You will understand EVERYTHING.”

Just what was he talking about? From the looks of it, he seemed to be enjoying your tension and trepidation, very amused. Your mind went into fan mode, recalling every fact you had known of Starscream and his various incarnations, which then led to you going on the defensive. “You…” albeit, it took you a try or two. “You’re the one that’s been doing this to me. Giving me these...these weird dreams.” the Decepticon didn’t answer, yet it was clear that he already knew that the secret was out (even if it wasn’t much of one). “You’re also the one that’s not letting me have one decent night’s sleep without being trapped here!”

“Or me serenading you?” he added in. “How do you like it? I don’t do it often, yet if I wish, I can stretch out my vocal components if I want.”

Your cheeks grew hot. Damn, this bastard was already making you too wound up, and you had only gotten a few words in! “Well...I’m here now,” you said, trying to sound confident, and, ironically enough, trying to channel Megatron’s dominating aura. “So, what do you want?”

This didn’t phase him in the slightest. Despite him being the one locked up, you were the one who felt like his prisoner. “I think you already know that dear Y/N,” he said. “But to put it simply, I’m feeling left out.”

You were confused. “Left out?” You asked. “Left out of…” you paused. Indeed, you knew well what he was talking about. “My...my reader inserts.”

Starscream nodded. “Quite an extensive library you’ve built up over time.” He told you. “Though your choices could be much better.” he scoffed. “Of course goody-good Prime would be on the list, along with the rest of the Auto-dolts.” Then he grimaced. “Yet there are those that actually want to FRAG Megatron? Ugh! No taste at all!” He then looked back at you. “You’ve written for everyone, from either faction, of every series,” he then pouted. “But none for me. Truly, Y/N, I’m hurt.”

You felt quite awkward. True, while you were known online for your stories, it was your username and persona they were seeing. They weren’t someone that was right around the corner that could walk in and see you writing these things. While you loved doing it, the thought of your family or friends discovering you wrote in this genre was a thought you dared not entertain, as you swore that you’d die from embarrassment. Thus, you were very careful whenever you did it, your room completely locked tight so you could focus without fear of someone barging in. The only times you left during your writing periods were for bathroom breaks and/or to eat/drink something. It was a big secret...and thinking about it now, it was a secret no more to the most infamous backstabber in all of Transformers. You had been found out.

“Well...so what? Are you going to keep haunting me until I do?” you asked. “You can’t do that!”

Starscream didn’t seem phased by this at all. That damned smirk of his both frustrated and made you excited, a combination that left you very unsure. “Can’t I?” he asked.

You didn’t like his tone. “What do you mean?”

“Well, let’s consider for a moment, Y/N,” he said. “You believe that I’m merely a figment of your imagination, yes? A stubborn thought that is lodged in your subconscious. Am I right?” you shifted a bit, knowing well what he was saying would lead to something else. Something that probably would flip everything on its head. “Well...who’s to say that I am?”

“I...I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. But what I say might just jog your memory.” he then went on. “In your last X Reader, you spoke of multiple versions of the characters, such as Prime and...yes, even Megatron,” Starscream scoffed. “And how it would’ve been peculiar if they met. Then, one of your readers linked you to a page on the TFWiki.” Starscream then chuckled. “Quite an array of knowledge, I must say. Especially for a primitive species such as yourselves. Anyway, said page spoke of what is labeled as the Transformers Multiverse, which, if I may say, is an excuse for you all to toy with and shape us into what YOU want. But back on track, you did a small amount of research on that, then went on about your business.”

“...and what does this have to do with why you’re here?”

Starscream smirked. “Then, after some time, you went and read the entries of me from various series and incarnations. To get a better feel for what you were thinking of writing. What you wanted to write. Only, you never did.” You were about to speak again, but the seeker spoke again before you could. “There was one detail from my earliest incarnation that spoke of a ‘ghost’, an immortal spark that couldn’t be snuffed out. One that could travel through space and time.” He drew closer to the bars. “And then discovered a way to travel through dimensions. Wherein, I found out all about how so many humans have seen my reality behind a television screen.”

What was he talking about? What did any of what he said mean? It was then that it all clicked for you. Sparks were essentially the ‘soul’ of a Transformer, which Starscream’s was indestructible. You read that he made an appearance in Beast Wars, and had made cameos elsewhere. What was before you right now...mere feet away…” Are you.. “ you stammered. “Are you really…”

The Decepticon nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am, Y/N.”

You were left speechless. No. No, this...this was impossible. It...it couldn’t be him! It couldn’t be the REAL Starscream! He was a cartoon, no, a toy! A damn toy! A toy from the eighties that were made to be marketable to young boys (and the girls that were secretly into it) among several other toys that were made be marketable to young boys (and again, the girls that were secretly into it)! There was NO way he was in your mind right now! He wasn’t real! He wasn’t real! He wasn’t-

“You step out into the chilled air, wrapping your arms around yourself as you do.” the Decepticon suddenly began. “He’s there to pick you up. He’s there to pick you up. You’re both terrified and exhilarated, eager to start the night, but also to make it fly by just enough so nothing embarrassing would happen between the two of you.” your jaw dropped when you heard him say that. How did he- “Know that you recently read over your very first entry? The one that started it all?” he then ‘rolled’ his eyes. “The one that clearly displayed that you had little taste at first?”

Of course, you did! That was from your very first X Reader story! It told of Optimus Prime and you, a human, in a relationship. Odd start, you knew, especially given that Transformer x Human relations was sort of controversial, yet overall, it wasn’t a bad one. Still, the fact he knew that…” No.” you said aloud. “It can’t be.”

He smiled. “I am.”

You stepped back until you hit a wall. “S-Starscream.” you stuttered. “You’re him. You’re the...the real one.” he was quite satisfied with your reaction, you clearly flustered yet cautious at the same time. The sensation drove you mad. But then you remember, this was just a dream! You were just making up all this stuff! You were relieved by this revelation...yet at the same time, you were...curious. Just where would this go if you continued? “Well...well, what are you doing here? What do you want?”

“Exactly as I said before, I feel left out,” Starscream told you. “And considering my popularity in this universe, I’d think me being here should tell you something.”

You knew what he wanted. “You want me to write about you.” it was obvious. “I-I know. I mean, I’ve been wanting to. Really, I have. But...but I...I just…” you sighed. If you knew Starscream (and you had at least a decent enough faith you did), you knew that this could potentially earn you his anger. Yet, to your surprise, he didn’t try to order you around. Instead, he seemed like he already knew you were going to say that.

“You can’t,” he said for you. “Understand, I’m the one in YOUR mind. Thus, you could say, I know everything about you. A perk of being something that, in this universe, started out as a drawing on a piece of paper.” you were confused, this seemed to humor Starscream even more. “Oh, come now. Surely you know that concept art exists, right?”

All of this was so insane for you, yet it was then that you felt the urge to speak up and say something for yourself for once. “Well, if you’re here from the...well, YOUR universe, what are you doing here in the first place?”

“Why, this is one of the few places I win!” Starscream exclaimed. “Of course, when I first came here, I was quite perplexed about how I and many others were known as products from a company called ‘Hasbro’. But overtime, I discovered your version of the internet, and, well, as you flesh bags say, the rest is history.” he then continued, not giving you a chance to speak. “And bring that I am an idea in this universe, I can go freely as I wish, peering into minds,” his red eyes looked upon you. “Become one’s permanent muse or vice versa.”

God, you felt weird. You felt so confused and conflicted. You wanted to sink into the wall to get away, but you also wanted to know more about this. You had to know more. You needed to know more. “So…?”

“So, I’ve come to you, as you’re truly in need of some inspiration,” Starscream said. “As well as some changes in your thinking.”

“Like what? Worshiping the ground you walk on?” you ask, feeling a little bolder.

“Oh, you already do.” he said. “If you didn’t desire me, I wouldn’t be here.” he grinned at your shocked expression. “That’s right, Y/N, I know what truly holds you back from writing about me. Your fears, your anxieties, your loves and lusts.” you had no words. “You fear that you may get me wrong if you will. That I won’t be in character. Or you fear that you won’t be able to satisfy the wants of your readers, as I AM so highly anticipated. Or…” he leaned closer to the bars, the only barrier separating you two. “You fear exploring those more intimate pleasures with me. You’re intimidated and unsure. After all, writing for Autobots is easy, yet us Decepticons are more difficult. But it HAS awakened things in you that you wish to explore on either side. Things that you are dying to let out.”

You had no words, he was completely right. Damn him! The smug bastard knew he had you in the palm of his hand...and yet also probably knew that’s what made you so hot and bothered right now! “So...what? Are you here to force me to write those things with you in them?”

“Dear Y/N, I can’t technically make you do anything,” Starscream told you. “Oh yes, I can stay and torment you night after night until either I pass onto another universe or I grow bored of you, but my reason being here is for both our benefits.”

“How?”

“It’s quite simple,” he said. “We shall go through those scenarios in your head.” his ruby red optics bore into yours/your eyes. “Together.” he then reached out from in between the bars and traced a digit around your jawline. “Believe it or not, I want to help you, Y/N.” his voice was smooth and sultry, something you never expected from a voice like his. “But only you can allow me to do so.” he then stepped back from the bars. “This prison of mine is something you’ve constructed from your fears and insecurities. Allow yourself to embrace what you fear…” he then extended his hand again, yet stepped back as well, sinking into the darkness. “Only then, will you truly be free.”

You were at a standstill. You knew what he wanted, and, to your horror, you were wanting to give it to him. Deny it all you want, this was something that had been in your mind ever since you got the first request for the Seeker. You approached the bars, trying to get some sign that he was still there. Surely he hadn’t left you, had he? No, he hadn’t. He was still there, you could feel him. Watching, waiting, and perhaps, knowing what you would do before you did.

Yet would you do it? Would you bite into that forbidden fruit?

Some while after pondering this question, you looked at the cell, the energy bars vanishing. Why fight it when you could already taste the sweet tartness of said fruit in the back of your throat?

[tsukiida]

pining — bakugou katsuki

— info :: bakugou x gn!reader ; sfw ; slight angst & humour ; 3.13k words.

— contents :: quirkless reader ; bakugou’s pov ; one-sided attraction ; bakugou being bakugou ; well-meaning wingmen bakusquad.

— synopsis :: katsuki hates the way you make him feel.

— note :: this is my first time writing bnha, let alone bakugou, I hope I do it justice… if you read this, thank you, I hope you like it! :)

katsuki swears he hates you.

to be honest, he’d rather hate you, than feel like… this about you.

he’s convinced you’re messing with him. your quirk must make it so, because there’s no other reason why he feels his body heat up, his heart beat quicker somewhere deep in his chest, every time he thinks of you. you’re definitely doing it on purpose.

it’s that damned shopping trip to blame.

the girls had dragged everyone out to have some bonding time, which is the shittiest excuse katsuki has ever heard for splurging and buying pretty dessert that clogs up arteries. he’d have skipped out on it, but raccoon eyes begged kirishima, who in turn begged katsuki.

that’s another thing that pisses him off; remembering exactly how the other boy had convinced him. really, he couldn’t give less of a shit about something like romance, but of course the extras are going out of their mind about how popular they are with their preferred gender, and of course they had to drag him into it.

no, he doesn’t care at all, but it hurts his ego pride to entertain the idea that he might not be #1 at something even as petty as that.

hell, he doesn’t even care about being #1, as long as he’s doing better than deku.

but he’s not blind. cheeks is obsessed with the green haired idiot, her heart probably having a taste of her own quirk and shooting off into the universe fluttering madly every time she looks at him.

it’s like the world is out to get him, because not only did he have to accompany all the losers to their stupid trip, but he also had to, under duress, with that goal in mind? really? grade schoolers, the whole lot of them.

what he hates most about the whole thing is you, though.

and you’re doing exactly the things he hates.

ever since you stumbled across deku during that trip, tapped him on the shoulder and smiled at him, it’s like you punched katsuki in the gut. he can’t forget the way you’d looked so meek, but still somehow comfortable around deku, and he’d be damned if he doesn’t hate that.

and for the life of him, he can’t recall ever seeing you during his days in middle school. you claimed that you’d been classmates with deku – and by extension, katsuki – for an entire year, and deku sure seems to recognise you. but katsuki doesn’t. deku lights up like a stupid bulb, but katsuki does not.

he hadn’t needed to know details about any of the dumb extras that had infested middle school, more so any of them who didn’t already seem to know that he is the best. that must’ve been why he didn’t know you. there weren’t too many people who didn’t believe in his worth, but the ones who didn’t… they weren’t special enough for him to remember. they could never prove him wrong, after all. they were nothing.

but you.

he hates you. he strongly dislikes you. he can’t stand you.

and you seem to love that shitty deku.

no, it’s not the same kind of emotion that uraraka holds for him.

you absolutely adore that girl too, and she treats you nicely enough despite the wary look in her eyes initially, when she thought she was being subtle while hovering around deku.

no, katsuki hasn’t been observing. especially not because he’s interested. he is literally just looking out for himself, because he doesn’t want to be blindsided just because he wasn’t careful of some scheming pest.

the pest in question being you.

you’re already wreaking havoc on his mind, full of nothing but thoughts of you, other than being #1. he would never give up on that, no matter how much you make his heart pound and palms sweat.

you’re kinda helpful for his quirk, actually, and that’s the only reason he hasn’t already blasted you off into nothingness. the accelerated heart rate does wonders for him. but he doesn’t want to credit you either for something he could achieve with his own hard work.

he can definitely credit you for being the most annoying idiot that he knows, though. your quirk is painful, because late at night when he’s alone, he’s hit by images of your face. you hang out so much with his classmates now, he can’t help it. he can’t even sleep peacefully, because when he does fall asleep, his often dreamless nights are swapped out for stupid sequences produced by his subconscious involving you, because of your silly little quirk that you think katsuki is unaware of.

it gets worse.

he finds out you’re quirkless.

he storms up to you when he’s had enough. not only do you go to a school quite near theirs, but you also always have time to meet up, and isn’t that super convenient for whatever grand scheme you’ve concocted in order to try and take down bakugou katsuki.

it’s a half-growled and half-whispered, threat-filled one-sided conversation between him and you when he asks you to stop whatever you’re trying to do. you, being the infuriating person that you are, just tilt your head and stare at him in confusion. in the name of all might, that should not make his heart skip a beat, because he doesn’t have any intention of using his quirk right now. he just wants you to stop using yours. that’s all he’s there for.

but then you just shrug slightly, that damned nervous smile plastered on your face that you’ve barely been showing anymore, now that you’re comfortable with the extras. you shake your head when he asks you, as nicely as he can, to stop whatever messed up thing you like doing to him.

“this your way of trying to win against me? you can’t,” he grits through his teeth, fingers itching to create little explosions. he’s not going to show his off when asking you to call yours off. he won’t—

you tell him you have no idea what he’s talking about, because you’re as quirkless as they come.

with all the strength that he can muster within himself to not have an outburst, he asks you to repeat yourself.

you do. “i’m quirkless.”

in the end, he can’t help himself, and sets off a series of minute explosions that have you hopping back, out of his arm’s reach. as if he’d harm you with them, he thinks while glaring at you.

katsuki would like to say that he got over it quickly, but it takes a while, truthfully. at first he can’t wrap his mind around the fact that you’re quirkless, because then every thought of you that’s haunted him the past few months is without explanation.

you being quirkless literally opens up so many other questions. if you’re quirkless, then who’s to blame for everything happening to him? is it someone else at fault? are you just stupid and oblivious and unaware of your own quirk? did it manifest late? did someone grant it to you? there are so many questions, and things are still the same, if not worse. he barely thinks of anything else.

at least he can write it off in the name of being better at defending himself from stray quirks affecting him.

he hates it, but he asks kirishima, very subtly, if he’s heard of anyone whose quirk has the effects katsuki hates suffering from. the stupid redhead simply looks him dead in the eye and says that it sounds like the case of a bad crush quirk, something out of cheap romance novels which might be quite dangerous in practice, before proceeding to ask katsuki why he’s curious about it. bless his stupid soul, sometimes, because he completely buys the lie katsuki feeds him.

he didn’t want to have to convince kirishima that he doesn’t have a crush. because he doesn’t want to even entertain the idea of having a crush on stupid little you.

especially when you barely even give him the time of day anymore.

well, you’ve never really been the closest to him, nor does he want that, thank you very much! but it seems like the only time you and him ever had a proper conversation was when he asked you about your quirk, and that too ended badly, with barely any words exchanged. but at least you used to smile at him. not that he liked it or anything, but it was better than you giving him the cold shoulder.

are the extras actually more interesting to you than katsuki is? he’s a little miffed if that’s the case. but whenever he talks, you hear him, sometimes even respond to him, so perhaps it’s not a matter of ignoring him.

it’s just one thing you do.

you avoid his eyes.

it’s subtle enough that no one else notices, and the first few times he sees you look away when your eyes meet his, his breath catches in his throat and he’s almost too shocked to breathe in.

he knows that he’s not done anything to warrant that reaction from you. perhaps you’re simply realising after a long time that he’s the one you should be paying attention to, rather than all the extras. and perhaps it’s easier for you to pay attention to him with your ears rather than your eyes. he can understand that. your eyes seem to have that effect on him too; it’s entirely possible that this way is easier for you to focus on him.

maybe he makes you nervous.

there are so many maybes, but that thought still makes a grin tug at his lips, seeing which kirishima almost gets nervous. yeah, he’s getting cocky.

but that’s fine. he doesn’t plan on approaching you yet.

after all, if you’re into him, you should be brave enough to tell him.

…

honestly, it’s completely the electric eel’s fault. really, it’s 100% his fault because he thinks it’s fun to talk about stupid shit around katsuki. stupid shit like you possibly having a crush on deku, even though all signs say otherwise.

katsuki was willing to overlook that, but then raccoon eyes decided to encourage that hypothesis, and soon the idiots around him were talking in hushed whispers about deku’s supposed fanclub. such a situation definitely warranted katsuki blowing up their asses during training.

katsuki hates training with deku with a burning passion, but such a situation also warranted going up to him and demanding that he train with katsuki. if only he’d had enough mind to notice that the class was ending. if only he’d not run his mouth—

“they’ll never even look at you.”

deku doesn’t know shit about what katsuki just said, looking at him like he grew another head – which pisses him off even more – but kirishima and the rest of them know—

they know that katsuki is still hung up over that stupid conversation from days back, and they also know something’s up, and katsuki hates himself for being an idiot.

they corner him, as impossible as that sounds. katsuki would’ve blasted them off into outer space but they literally pile up onto him, clinging and refusing to let go of him even when he threatens to beat their ass again. curse sero’s tape.

katsuki would like to say that he fends them all off and throws them off his case. unfortunately, that does not happen. they find out a few things that day. thankfully, the only things they do find out are: you really get on katsuki’s nerves, and you also have a silly little crush on him.

“for real? are you sure?” ashido asks, eyebrows knit together like it’s something particularly unbelievable, and kaminari nods along uncertainly.

katsuki scoffs. “no other reason why they can’t look me in the eye.”

“i mean, you are kinda scary…” sero starts, but one glare from the scary person in question has him trailing off.

kirishima politely provides, “he’s manly!” and the conversation ends there.

…

oh, but the scheming doesn’t end.

kaminari is a bloody idiot, and encouraged by the equally idiotic sero, both of them come up with various scenarios wherein you and katsuki could stumble into each other, completely coincidentally, as if katsuki can’t hear them gossiping right behind him.

he ends up having to intervene when they get increasingly creative, which only means disaster in katsuki’s book.

“i’ll just wait.” he simply shrugs, watching the idiots get confused.

“fun to watch them squirm when they think they’re being subtle,” he offers further, and kirishima gives him a disapproving look, mumbling something about sadists.

“bakugou,” ashido stares at him critically, opening and shutting her mouth many times before eventually asking, “do you like them?”

after several more explosions, katsuki’s heart beating too fast in his chest, the sweat beading at his temples written off as part of his quirk, he’s able to dispel the idea from her mind.

he’ll never like someone like you.

and he’s still wary of you in the secret corner of his mind, not sure why he reacts the way he does to you. he’s not stupid, he knows what a crush is and how it works, but he really can’t see himself being attracted to you at all.

it has to be something someone concocted to get him weak, but they’re not going to succeed.

even if not having your eyes on him pisses him off more, making him feel irrational and prone to dangerous stunts and outbursts. even if not seeing you around much makes him feel like there’s not much to show off to. even if he really doesn’t feel like there’s anything worth showing off when he spies poor little you hanging around his classmates, quirkless and gentle.

gross.

…

katsuki hates being wrong.

katsuki hates knowing he’s wrong.

katsuki barely ever is wrong.

but when he is, he messes up completely.

if he were to possess the ability to correct one thing, he’d just lock up the idiots who call themselves his friends, and not let them near you.

they notice your little mannerisms too, of course they do when katsuki himself told them that you like him. they notice that you don’t meet his eyes and prefer staying away from him, but still respond to him whenever he talks. they notice that you don’t seem to fear him like some people do; almost as if you’re comfortable with him.

and they also notice things he wishes they didn’t notice, like the way his skin reddens imperceptibly when he sees you, and the way he makes an effort to not blast things up too much in your vicinity.

(it’s not really much use anymore, unfortunately.)

it’s definitely kaminari who is to blame; he always is for everything. katsuki doesn’t need any more reason to want to absolutely pummel him, because with the tape idiot’s encouragement, he bounces up to you one day and asks the dreaded question.

“what do you think of bakugou?” the blond asks, grinning from ear to ear as if he’s done something wonderful, but the way your eyebrow creases in confusion makes katsuki’s heart skip a beat. erratic. he doesn’t know what to make of the expression on your face. and no, he’s not waiting for your response, dammit. he’s 100% busy ignoring everyone. he can’t let you know all of his attention is on him, especially when you’re about to turn your head to look in his direction.

“he’s okay,” the words eventually leave your mouth, and he almost snorts. just okay? are you stupid, or just pretending to be? he knows your vocabulary is bigger than that.

“don’t you…” kaminari leans in dramatically, and katsuki has to strain his ears to hear—

“don’t you like him?”

well, hell. guess someone missed the tact memo.

that’s fine, though, katsuki’s okay with that. maybe letting you shyly avoid him isn’t the best course of action when you refuse to make a move.

you let out a non-committal noise, prompting another round of questions. the way you further get confused and respond with questions of your own makes something nag at the back of katsuki’s mind.

there’s something steadily sinking, and said sinking feeling grows the longer you talk to the electric idiot. by this point, katsuki has realised he’s missing something, but he’s still confident that it’s nothing he can’t overlook at this crucial moment when you spill the beans.

“my dear, sweet y/n, don’t you like bakugou?!” kaminari finally exclaims, possibly frustrated, and katsuki internally wheezes. he’s preoccupied with what you’ll say next, so laughing at the idiot’s expense takes a back seat.

he has to hand it to you; you’re really hard to crack, and it’s almost annoying. katsuki’s tempted to just burst his way over to you and demand a clear confession.

the answer isn’t something he’s expecting.

“not that he’s not, y’know, nice and all,” you babble, clearly stalling. you exhale at the same time as katsuki inhaling, and he holds his breath, waiting for the shoe to drop. really, maybe kaminari isn’t so bad if he can actually weasel the truth out of you with his stupid self.

“it’s just… he’s kind of scary. i try not to get in his way.”

kaminari seems just as stumped as katsuki feels in that moment.

“but… the way you act around him…”

well said, pikachu.

“oh.” that single word feels a bit like a gunshot. “oh, oh, i see. oh, no.” you need to stop saying ‘oh’ so many times, as if that changes anything.

“i’m sure he’s a good guy, but nope, i’m not interested in him romantically. i only act so awkward around him because that’s exactly how he makes me feel. i don’t even know him that well.”

can you stop twisting the knife?

“bakugou noticed,” kaminari mumbles, loud enough that katsuki hears. the words sound like they’re laced with pity. katsuki hates it, but what he hates more is how the idiot’s voice lowers to a whisper to say something to you that he really can’t hear from the distance.

katsuki also hates how your lips part and understanding dawns on your face.

he hates how your eyes meet his, head-on, because he completely forgot to look busy and has been gawking at you for the past few minutes. he hates how your eyes widen before a wary expression crosses your face.

katsuki hates the way you make him feel.

“is that what he’s passing it off as?” you ask, loud enough that he can hear. you’re not making an effort to lower your voice either.

kaminari does not respond to you, and you let out a short laugh, no doubt incredulous.

katsuki feels something within himself snap.

he leaves the room.

— note :: feedback is appreciated! :) I like this open ending because there’s a lot that can happen with it, let me know if anyone wants to see more of this! thanks for reading! :) ETA: if you’re interested in a continuation, you can read “honey”! :)

[blu-joons]

DATING PENTAGON A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Yang Hongseok

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Being so tall, Hongseok was always able to make you feel safe and protected in his hold. He towered over you whenever he hugged you, making sure that you were as tight against him as possible so he could look down at you.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

The two of you met abroad when you were both travelling and exploring. You ended up spending the day together at a sightseeing event, exploring a part of the city before exchanging numbers, sharing your stories and where you came from, vowing to adventure in each other’s homes one day when you could.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

When the time came for you to visit Hongseok in Korea, he knew that he had to confess to you and tell you how he felt. He’d waited for the moment to see you in person again for so long, and the fact you’d chosen to head to Korea just to see him meant a great deal to him. The night you landed, he took you out to dinner, excited to show you his home, telling you how he felt, so that you could enjoy the rest of your trip as a couple.

D ⇴ DATES

The two of you would often go on late night drives together for your dates, basking in the quiet streets and the beautiful landscapes that the night sky showed off. Hongseok would always make sure he had plenty of food in the back of the car for the two of you to enjoy, often driving up to the mountains so that the two of you could overlook the city. The escape was something that you both enjoyed, and the adventure that came with it was the icing on top of the cake, with plenty of memories made.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

He’d noticed his name pop up in rumoured articles before, and so Hongseok was incredibly careful with you. He knew the attention a foreign girlfriend would get him, and the last thing he wanted was for you to get caught in the crossfire of it all. He was always incredibly conscious of being seen out with you, and whilst he never denied knowing you and being close to you, Hongseok was always careful with his words, knowing the wrong thing could land him, and you, in plenty of hot water with several people.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

The two of you never tended to argue, learning to be pretty understanding of each other. When you were apart, calls were too busy spent with telling stories and checking in on each other that you had no time to argue with one another, and when you were together, you were too focused on making the most of the time that you had together to even let the smallest of disagreements bubble up into something that it didn’t need to be. Time with each other was far too precious to ever argue, learning to talk things through was one of the biggest skills you had in your relationship which definitely worked to your advantage.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

As soon as he came home from his travels, Hongseok couldn’t wait to tell his family about the girl he’d met exploring, and so as soon as they heard you were making the trip to Korea to see him, they were desperate to be a stop on your tour of Korea and meet the person that they’d heard so much about.

H ⇴ HOME

Once you finally settled and decided to call Korea home for at least a little while, Hongseok moved you straight in with him. There was no way that he was going to let you go anywhere else, he was the one that was going to take care of you, and that started by making sure you had a roof over your head.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

Hongseok was the first of the two of you to say those three special words on a call one evening. It had been a while since your time zones matched, and Hongseok was desperate to talk to you. Although he wanted to say it in person initially, he couldn’t wait any longer to tell you how he felt about you.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

He would always go a little bit quieter whenever he was feeling jealous, Hongseok was incredibly protective of you, especially knowing that you were living in a foreign country, and so he was always very observant of any situation that you found yourselves in. Whilst he appreciated that many people were interested in finding out about where you came from, he couldn’t help but get jealous when someone got a little too invested, drifting out of conversation until you pulled him straight back in again.

K ⇴ KIDS

Before either of you could think about starting a family, you truly had to sit down and discuss where you’d end up calling home. Whilst you loved being in Korea, a small part of you always thought about whether it was where you saw yourself forever, but with Hongseok’s career, you doubted that you’d ever be able to make anywhere else in the world work, especially if kids were something you were going to have.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

Hongseok always managed to make you laugh, that was by far one of the highlights of being in his company, but best, or perhaps worst of all, the dad jokes that he had always had you doubled over in stitches. For the most part, they were terrible, but it was the cheesiness in them that somehow had you laughing most of the time. Whilst he knew he wasn’t the funniest member in the group, Hongseok knew exactly the kind of humour that you liked, and always knew exactly what he needed to do to get you laughing if you’d had a bad day or if you were feeling a little homesick, he’d always cheer you up.

M ⇴ MISSING

The two of you had very quickly gotten used to missing one another with the long distance you found between you both. It was a feeling that never got easier for either of you, but it was definitely something that you learnt to live with. Although when Hongseok went on tour, and you were in Korea, it felt strange to begin with, it oddly made things easier for you knowing that at least you were at his home, and that you wouldn’t have to wait so long to see him because of that. You both always celebrated little milestones, like you always had done, to get you through time that was spent apart.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

He loved to give you nicknames that were in your language that he’d learnt, very few other people would understand them at home, making them personal, and private, which Hongseok absolutely adored.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

Hongseok was obsessed with your voice, for a while it was the only contact that he had with you, and so he always made sure to treasure it, no matter whether he was near or far.

P ⇴ PDA

He would always make sure to take care of you more than anything else whenever the two of you were out in public. Hongseok was well known for how soft he was when it came to being with you, and the gentle touch in which he always made sure to hold you with when you were out and about definitely showed that.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

Hongseok loved learning about your home, and your language especially, and so he’d often ask you questions about new snippets of information that he’d learnt, or a question that he wanted an answer to.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

The two of you were always taking photographs wherever you were in the world. Hongseok particularly loved to take selcas at all the different places you visited, making up album after album with photos from the numerous countries the two of you went to. They were the perfect things to look back on and remember the many adventures you’d had and the numerous memories that had been made too.

S ⇴ SEX

Intimacy with Hongseok always focused around one thing, love. He always made the mood one filled with a lot of love and passion, taking care of you, especially if he’d gone a long time without seeing you. Your hands would almost always be resting against his abs, his body never failed to make you speechless, you couldn’t help but get lost staring at it most of the time, leaving Hongseok feeling very shy too.

T ⇴ TEXTS

For a long time, texts were your best way of communicating, and so even after you moved across to Korea, you’d always find yourselves texting each other, sometimes forgetting that you could actually see each other in person.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

You were everything to Hongseok, there had been difficult times for you both, but neither of you ever wanted to give up on the other, knowing a time would come when you could be with each other properly.

V ⇴ VACATION

The first time Hongseok had the chance to go on holiday, he invited you with all of his other members so that you could really get to know them all. The others had heard plenty of stories about you, they were just as keen as Hongseok to meet you and find out as much as they possibly could about you.

W ⇴ WHINING

He was always understanding that not all of your time could be spent with him, and so Hongseok was someone who would very rarely whine at you.

X ⇴ XXXXX

You’d often feel Hongseok kissing you, forgetting sometimes that you were sticking around and that he didn’t have to let you go. A small part of him would always worry that a kiss would be your goodbye kiss, just like it had been for so many months before you visited Korea. Sometimes he had to pinch himself that he was even able to kiss you properly and not having to blow a kiss into the camera of his phone.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were the most important thing to him, Hongseok had worked so hard for you.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

He’d always hold on tightly to you at night, having to remind himself that you really were there with him. Just like when he kissed you, Hongseok would always worry that time with you was far too good to actually be true.

---

Masterlist