#and most of it probably boils down to the fact that i cannot express my own feelings or tell people my boundaries

[the-casbah-way]

very impossible to find the balance between "i want my friends to be able to talk to me about their problems and tell me when they're struggling" and "i am extremely emotionally fragile at the moment because i'm doing very badly and talking about very heavy topics especially with no warning is not something i feel capable of dealing with right now because i'm on the verge of a violent mental breakdown"

[anashins]

i love your idol!au so much 🥰🥰 that’s why i’ve come up with an idea where in idol!reader suddenly gets shipped with another idol/actor she worked with and jaehyun get jealous and tries so hard to drop hints here and there that they’re together so people can ship them instead lol

Pairing: idol!Jaehyun x idol!reader

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 1k

Summary: When an incident during your first collaboration stage leads you to get shipped with his group's leader, Jaehyun decides that he has to nip this rumor in the bud.

A/N: Thank you so much, I hope you like this one 💗

“Did you see me, Jaehyun? It was amazing!”

You had just gotten off the stage, still in your outfit in which you had performed alongside Taeyong and several other SM artists for a collaboration song, and still in high spirits with the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

You had been preparing for your first stage outside of your girl group for weeks, and the first live performance was a full success despite minor technical issues that luckily got quickly resolved thanks to the other artists in the unit.

Jaehyun was lurking backstage, having to wait another few stages until NCT would get their chance to perform, and even though he must be pumped as well by now, he didn’t give off the impression to be actually excited for the concert today anymore despite him having expressed his anticipation before.

In fact, he looked enormously pissed. 

“What was going on with your microphone?” he barked, walking toward you. “Why was yours the only one not working?”

“It’s okay!” you tried to calm him down. “It worked shortly after, right? I didn’t even have to sing first until they noticed, so it’s okay, it can happen!”

“But not during your first collaboration stage! I’m gonna find the one responsible for this.”

You didn’t know what was up with him, Jaehyun looked utterly angry, almost beyond the point of no return. You had never witnessed him turning into such a borderline menace for everyone around him. Usually, your boyfriend was kind, warm and reserved. Only seldomly, he expressed upset over something, most likely only brooding, and even more seldomly, he raised his voice. So what was going on with him now?

“Hey.” Before Jaehyun got the chance to turn around and stomp away, you grabbed him by his arm and held him back. “I promise you, it’s alright! There is no point in going off on that person, we cannot turn back time. Taeyong noticed it right away and fixed it, didn’t you see? Next stage, I’m gonna have a double check beforehand.”

“Of course he noticed it and fixed it right away,” he repeated, and you didn’t miss the slight mockery in his voice as it dawned on you what was really going on behind his boiling surface. “He always does.”

“Jaehyun…” Your hand slid down his arm until you reached his clenched palm and gently wrapped your fingers around his in a comforting and reassuring gesture. “Are you jealous? Of Taeyong? One of your best friends?”

It took him a while to reply and eventually admit to his feelings that he had never shown you before as he slowly shifted around to face you with defeated features. “It’s not that. He’s a great leader and a professional, which was why he noticed the malfunction right away and was able to fix it.”

“See, he’s the one who saved me from an embarrassing moment. So, what’s your problem?”

“My problem is…” You could almost hear Jaehyun grinding his teeth together. “...the internet. You have probably not seen it yet, but it’s full of people shipping you with Taeyong, and it’s making me mad!”

You frowned in confusion. “Why would they do that?”

“Apparently, it was heroic and utterly cute how he immediately went over to you and helped you, touched your face while fixing the microphone, and how you looked at him gratefully, earning a bright smile back.”

“I was only grateful for his help, and you know Taeyong, he-”

“I know,” Jaehyun sighed deeply. “I know.” He cupped your face, all anger suddenly gone, wiped away and replaced by something you had never encountered in his expression before as well: insecurity. “If it were me, I would have done the same, you know that, right? I’m capable of that too.”

“I’m sure about that. Please don’t listen to the internet and who they want to see me with, because they have only witnessed one interaction. I barely interact with other male artists. If they saw us close together as well, their opinions would surely change.”

“Okay.” Jaehyun's shoulders relaxed and he now appeared less tense, wiping a strand of your hair that had gotten loose out of your face. “I’m sorry about that.”

You giggled quietly. “Jeong Jaehyun, I didn’t know you could be this jealous.” 

____

Having changed into the concert’s official shirt, you went to the goodbye stage with all the artists that had performed today. You were supposed to get on the same cart as your group’s leader, waving goodbye to the audience, but when you arrived at the spot, someone else already waited there.

“Where is my leader?” you asked, tilting your head.

“I switched carts with her,” Jaehyun explained with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, you did?” You approached him slowly. “And she allowed you to do so just like that?”

“Well, I owe her one bucket of chicken every week for one month straight, but it will be worth it.”

“You know you never had something to be jealous of in the first place, right?” you wanted to assure him.

“I’m very well aware of that. But I cannot let everyone believe you and Taeyong would make a greater couple than us. My ego just won’t let me.”

“What are you planning on doing then, Jaehyun? We cannot be too obvious.”

“Get on this cart.”

In your heels, it was a bit tricky to get up the steep stairs, and that was when you felt Jaehyun’s hand on your forearm. A tender touch that only lasted one second or two, but was obvious enough to get noticed by the endless cameras in the audience.

He hadn’t chosen to support you by your waist, because that would have been too intimate to be shared between artists from the same label, and he hadn’t chosen your hand either, because it would have been too obvious how close you actually were.

Jaehyun had done the right gentlemanly thing to spur some fan content that was just in character for him.

“Sneaky,” you whispered to him when he followed you to the top of the cart.

“I know,” he answered, smiling the brightest for the entire ride, waving to the crowd.

[shinesurge]

I, for one, would love to read your thoughts on comics vs novels.

A similar bugbear I have is the conflation or comics and animation, two mediums that are both lamentably infantilized. In my opinion we've seen this more in the past twenty years with the mainstream acceptance of anime in the US, the idea that comics are just a storyboard for animation, or just an ancillary tie in.

Utterly foolish.

Hard same about the lack of respect for animation AND viewing comics as a jumping off point for more """legitimate""" forms of art, that's a whole different conversation but UGH ughgjsldjf. Guillermo Del Toro has a lot of good stuff to say about it and he's smarter than I am hehe

ANYWAY I reserve the right to come back and write another essay on this later when I have more time and stamina but my opinion here mostly boils down to the difference between looking at a picture and reading a word, right

In prose, as an author, I have room to take time and use the EXACT words I want to communicate. Those words have definitions, and while I can already hear poets (and my fellow english majors i'm sure) complaining that words are extremely malleable and context dependent, ultimately they DO have definitions no matter what because the writer chose them.

Like, okay, Phineas is looking at Ulrich and I go, in a scene where Phineas is leading, "Ulrich's face is unreadable." It doesn't MATTER what other ways you could read that, I THE AUTHOR have indicated that the thing to take away from this is "Phineas cannot get information from Ulrich's face." Ultimately there's no other way to interpret that sentence in that context, literally just by virtue of having to describe the interaction with words that have definitions I have dictated what I want the takeaway to be. We can discuss that decision all day long, but it IS a concrete aspect that can only ever be concrete, and it must be acknowledged in any analysis; jumping to prose is WILD because I suddenly have infinitely more influence over the audience. Not an inherently bad thing! It is a feature of the medium! BUT

In a comic (IGNORING the thousand billion framing/coloring/lighting/paneling/layout decisions that could multiply the context) this scene would probably be the audience looking at two characters from the outside, with zero concrete guidance from me the author for how exactly to interpret the interaction. Every single reader who looks at those panels could find something different about the art to extrapolate different data from and ALL of their findings could be correct. Looking at their expressions could feel different to everybody, maybe she CAN read his face and still feels confused, maybe she DOES get it and is choosing not to share for reasons. Could be anything!!

And again, listen listen to me I respect prose SO so much and I am not saying at all that it isn't an equally complex and nuanced medium worth analyzing. I went to school specifically for this, almost ALL my biggest artistic influences are prose writers. This is apples and oranges don't anybody dare take this as me putting down writing as art. My point here is I am goddamn tired of comics not getting their due as an extremely complex form of art on its own from anybody anywhere, audiences or publishers or critics or (it often feels like) anyone besides us freaks who are masochistic enough to make them. It's the single most frustrating thing I've encountered in my career and I have no idea what to do about it tbh.

Tangentially, I'm also sick of people going "no totally, comics ARE art. I read Watchmen AND Sandman :)" or like, trotting out some harrowing black and white autobio. Those are fine! It's FINE, I love Sandman, but please fucking god I am begging people to consider newer comics and more varied art styles too, additional good comics HAVE been produced in the last 20 years, and also comics aren't ONLY worth something when they're either working hard to downplay the fact that they're cartoons or dealing with fully realistic heavy topics (or in Sandman's case, allowed a pass because Gaiman is a respected enough creator to be allowed to do his thing).

I'm just tired dude I love comics so much and I believe in telling stories with them that are allowed to be just as weird and varied as stories any other format. We shouldn't have to constantly justify our existence to everybody before we even get to discuss the art itself, I'm so fucking frustrated lmao

[bambiraptorx]

🎱🕯️📚🎨

🎱 post your AO3 total stats 

Total Word Count: 161,237

🕯️on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

Hm, maybe a 6 or a 7? It's definitely usually easier for me than writing the rough draft lol.

🎨link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

Probably this one, of my more recent (ish) stuff. Honestly it was mostly experimental and the lighting wasn't quite what I wanted, but I drew an entire violin for this piece lol. I was pretty proud of that.

📚 post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

This might get a little spicy but I'm gonna be real here. I know that a lot of people like the comic design for Big Mama's Assistant (and I've seen some well-done fanart to be sure), but I really don't care for the way that people are defending it.

(read more cause this got ranty and is generally negative lol)

One of the most annoying responses that I've seen to her design (and a common defense) is people saying something along the lines of: "Oh but it makes perfect sense that she'd wear makeup, because Big Mama does!"

First of all, not all girls whose mothers wear makeup are going to wear makeup too. Second of all, that's technically based on an assumption with no grounding in canon, which is that Big Mama is a mother figure to her assistant at all. Their interactions in the show itself are all strictly professional, and while the idea of Big Mama being an adoptive parent to her assistant is definitely an interesting one to explore, it is not canon. (And no, I don't count any tweets Ron Corcillo might have made about this topic as canon lol.)

Honestly, a lot of the defenses for her wearing makeup that I've seen are less about why she might wear it (especially given that she literally wears a mask over it so it's not like people can actually see it) and seem to more carry a tone of "but girls wearing makeup is normal so I don't see what the issue is!"

And that is... exactly the problem. As of the comic Big Mama's assistant has essentially been confirmed as the only female sibling, and her design heavily reflects that. So heavily. It's like getting hit in the face with "She Is A Girl With Makeup On So You Can Tell She's A Girl!!!!"

Now, don't get me wrong, there's plenty of interesting reasons for why she might be wearing makeup. The thing is, I haven't seen any of the people who actually like her design give any of those reasons. If you want the reason for her wearing makeup to be "it's a form of self-expression that she does for herself, even knowing it won't be seen", for example, say that. If you want it to be "she exists in an environment where business professional is expected of her and that includes makeup (which implies that she's seen without the mask on at least some of the time)", then say that. If I can come up with these and half a dozen more explanations, then could the people who actually like the design come up with more than "Well Big Mama wears it so her assistant does too."

Really, it feels like what I've seen could be boiled down to "She's a girl and girls wear makeup so it's fine". And the fact that there's people who don't see an issue with it and even defend it, without thinking any deeper? It seriously rubs me the wrong way.

And like, look, I'm not trying to police what designs people can and cannot like. I just wish the defenses for it were more thought out, you know? If people can put the time into making fanart surely they can put the time into coming up with a good explanation for why the design is Like That even when her face is meant to be covered by a mask.

Rant over lol, it's gone on too long as it is.

ask game

[zwoelffarben]

And, let's talk about your hypothetical Book Summary Services.

You sell a service where you read a book and summarize it's contents.

You don't owe the author a royalty in doing this.

On this we agree. Actual companies that do this exist: It's basically sparknote's whole schtick. But, the why you don't owe the author a royalty is interesting and I want to dig into that.

Fair use doctrine is an affirmative defense to copyright infringement in yankeeland law. What that means is you say to the court, "Yes, I infringed upon their copyrighted work's copyright, but here is an exception written into the law which I believe protects me," and the court decides after hearing arguments if you are or aren't protected.

There's a lot of history of precident built up by case law over the years, but it boils down to four major factors.

Purpose and character of the infringing work

Nature of the copyrighted material

Amount of material taken

Effect on the market of the copyrighted work.

I'll circle back to 1 because its the most complicated.

For #2, because the works taken are so wildly varied, let's generously assume it's a wash and not worry about it.

For #3, not only the work, but meta data about the work is feed into the pile. At low effort, that's 100% of the work. At mid effort 110% of the work is used. Which is a point against the algorythms.

For #4, given that these algorythms are being marketed and used as labor replacements for the labor that their training data allows them to mediocrely immitate, I'd say that's another point out of favor.

So far that's a score of 0-2-1, which isn't great, but the first point is often worth like three to five points, so lets look at it in detail now.

Purpose and character of the infringing work.

Case law breaks this down roughly into subpoints.

Is it education or informative.

Is it for profit, nonprofit, or non-commercial

Is it transformative or derivative.

The first one is a wash because it'll depend on who's telling the machine to output something.

The second one is definitively on the for profit side. The companies building these algorythms are doing so in the hopes of a big pay check that probably won't ever manifest.

The third is a complicated mess of case law that boils down to, "A transformative use adds 'new expression, meaning, or message' to the original work."

Now, this is where I transition from stating what I consider facts and reasonable assumptions into admitted speculation.

I do not believe any output from a machine algorythm can be transformative in the same vein that a photo taken by a monkey cannot be copyrought nor can the output of the machine algorythm be copyrought. Copyright protects authorship, specifically in the eyes of the yankeelandcourt, human authorship. Transformativity similarly, I believe based on the general language presented in case law, requires human intent, a thing these machine algorythms do not have, by vice of being not human.

Now, we don't have that enshrined as case law. The court'll decided at some point in the next decade or two whether I'm wrong. In the meantime it's purely my opinion, that to "add new expression, meaning, or message," one needs have a presence of mind which machine learning algorthms have not yet demonstrated itselves to have.

Ergo, I do not believe them nor their outputs to be transformative.

Ergo I do not believe them nor their outputs to be fair use.

Ergo I do believe them and their outputs to be unprotected infringement of existing copyright law

Ergo I believe they are not analogous to your hypothetical commercial book summarizer and that every single one of these machine algorythms build on creative works taken without notice, permission, nor compensation is due a cease and desist and every creative they took from without NPC is due compensatory damages under the current law.

My hot take is that AI bears all of the hallmarks of an economic bubble but that anti-AI bears all of the hallmarks of a moral panic. I contain multitudes.

[analoghorrorexplained]

Dear Analog Horror community: you are killing your own fandom by sexualizing it

I am pretty sure many of you who have followed me when I started posting may have noticed my lack of posts as of recently. There are definingly more analog horror facts to be shared, theories to be discussed, and Easter eggs to find. But to be 100% honest I have been struggling to want to even post content for this community anymore. There is a plethora of reasons for this: general burnout, life shit, etc... but the biggest deterrent of me actually posting content and reviewing stuff is literally the fanbase itself.

A few days ago at the time of writing, Alex Kister posted a tweet:

From what I have seen he has been the only Analog Horror creator to actually address this issue; but within time I think more people will come out of the woodwork to talk about it as well. 

There is a massive problem within the Analog horror community (more specifically in the Walten Files and Mandela Catalogue sub communities). And the funny part is this issue is perpetuated by literal minors. People who should not be engaging in sexual spaces anyway are literally perverting these series from what they are, horror storylines, into baseless smut. 

I have stopped drawing fanart of Mandela Catalogue all together because of creepy/sexual messages I receive from other ‘fans’. Most of these messages objectify my drawings or they ask me to draw “CHARACTER x CHARACTER” porn. I even had to leave the official discord because literal minors (some probably in MIDDLE SCHOOL by the way they talked) would not stop talking about sex and what they would do to the characters. I can only imagine what type of harassment/DMs Alex gets regarding this issue since he is the creator of the series. 

It has already been made clear that Alex does not like the creation of this type of content and many other fandom members have expressed discomfort that this is even happening. So with that said why is it still happening? 

By doing this shit you are:

Forcing your sexual interests upon other people who do not want to engage in sexual topics and activities 

Actively disrespect the creator’s boundaries by posting endless amounts of porn/beyond suggestive text posts

Creating a hostile environment for asexual people, other minors, and people who just do not want to talk about sex

Stripping meaning/suspense away from these series by boiling it down to ONLY porn

And if you are a minor doing this you are literally engaging in content you should not legally be viewing. And by engaging with other fandom members in this way (some who may even be adults) you literally run the risk of actual legal ramifications. Fuck, you may even get an entire fandom’s official shut down because of child saftey concerns. Because even if a space is made for adults and is generally populated by adults: if a minor gets in and makes it a place where minors are engaging in sexual activity the entire thing will be nuked anyway.

On top of that: this continued behavior will most likely result in many Analog Horror creators stopping their projects if the issues continue. I know many fanartists have already jumped ship. Why risk forcing your favorite series to stop making new episodes/content all together because you cannot control your own sexual urges. Plus I would like to add using “Rule 34″ as a defense here is utter bullshit. We are not dealing with a franchise, we are dealing with people making unsolicited porn of somebody’s passion project. They (being the creator of the series) has the right to tell people to stop drawing porn of their creations. And at that point we are crossing into the realm of actual sexual harassment. 

This meme I blatantly stole from twitter (created by @HexKirari) puts it best. 

Some of yall are literally willing to use your own horniness to justify harassing your favorite creators and objectify their work. 

And the more you do that, the more people will leave the fandom (including creators) and it will get to the point where there will literally be nobody left but the sick freaks who get off to poorly drawn police sketches. 

Stop it, touch some grass, and stop forcing your sexual desires down everybody’s throat. 

[lilxberry]

Hardly Burglar Material - Bilbo Baggins

Requested by: @donniethescienceguy​

Helloooooooo! Can I have a Bilbo x hobbit wife reader where after Thorin insults him (in the beginning when he arrives) she defends him and Thorins like: are you sure it’s the male Baggins we want?

I mean, I still did as what was requested but man, did I not know where tf this was going lmao

I followed quite a bit of the manuscript of the film, the only alteration is when reader confronts Thorin

Warnings: Nothing really. Asshole Thorin. Terrible writing lmao. 

Words: 1,796

Pairings: Bilbo Baggins x Reader (female reader) (wife!reader)

_______________

You hadn’t expected your quiet evening meal with your husband to be interrupted but when a dwarf, a big, burly, tattooed, balding, towering one at that knocks your door, there certainly isn’t much you can do.

After the dwarf, who introduced himself as Dwalin, had entered your home and devoured your husbands fish dinner, to which you offered Bilbo your own meal, more and more knocks sounded at the door, each one miffing your husband further and further until he had finally had enough.

“There’s nobody home!” he shouted as another sound came from the front door, arms holding up the abundance of weapons the two brothers’, Fíli and Kíli, loaded on to him.

You felt terrible, watching as your husband becomes frustrated, not knowing what to do other than spectate in concern.

He tossed the items down out of his arms as he stormed towards the door, shouting at whoever was on the other side. “Go away and bother somebody else! There are far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is.”

Bilbo closes in on the door. “I-I-If this is some plotheads idea of a joke,” he laughed in disbelief before grasping the door handle in his hand. “I can only say, it is in very poor taste.”

With that, he pulled the door open and in comes tumbling through the doorway a cluster of dwarves, all grumbling and whining at the other to get off of them. Bilbo and yourself, who stood a few steps behind, looked down at the mess of moving bodies on the floor before his feet, dumbfounded expressions on both of your faces.

Movement behind the pile up caught both yours and Bilbos’ attention, and once the tall figure bent down ever so slightly to reveal himself, your face twisted into that of utter confusion as your husband sighs in exasperation.

“Gandalf.”

_______________

Although you were concerned for your husband, you couldn’t help but find the whole situation quite amusing. You found some of the dwarven folk that had invaded your shared home to be quite a fun, entertaining bunch.

Of course, you were concerned about the possessions within your home, hoping that the dwarves leave your home relatively untouched and that your husband wouldn’t have some sort of mental breakdown.

Your uninvited guests had pillaged the pantry of its food. The race of dwarves certainly did have quite an appetite. Even Gandalf had nibbled on quite a bit of food.

The rowdiness of the dwarves had calmed slightly, if only for moment when they downed whatever drink they had. Even the ridiculous and frankly disgusting belching afterwards was calmer than their initial arrival.

Yet that was quickly replaced with plates, platers, knives, forks, and spoons were tossed from one dwarf to another as they sang a merry tune. Bilbo was quick with demanding caution and for things to be put down. Even you were slightly worried for your kitchen utensils.

The dwarves released hearty laughter when you and Bilbo peered into the kitchen and had seen that everything was clean and stacked, Gandalf chuckling along with them as both you and Bilbo simultaneously release sighs of relief.

Then, the atmosphere became tense as three, loud knocks sound at your front door for a final time that night.

The laughter died out instantly and Gandalf spoke quite ominously. “He’s here.”

_______________

You couldn’t really pinpoint what exactly was unsettled you so much when it came to the dark-haired dwarf who sat at the head of the table. Maybe his stature. Possibly his stoic expression.

Most likely the look behind his eyes.

Well, you certainly didn’t like him all that much whenever he addressed your husband.

Most of the conversation between the dwarves and Gandalf became muffled when reaching your ears, certainly seeing no point in listening in on their talk. The second your husbands voice rang out through the room though had piqued your interest and your attention was brought to the conversation.

They spoke of The Lonely Mountain, the dragon Smaug, how they were on a quest to reclaim their home. Gandalf had produced not only a map of some forts but a key, a key the dwarves seemed to become quite excited about.

You also happened to admire the young dwarfs’ courage. Ori.

Then, the topic of a burglar arrived.

“That’s why we need a burglar,” Ori spoke.

“Hmm, and a good one too. An expert I’d imagine.” Bilbo moves back from peering down at the map, holding on to his suspenders.

“And are you?”

Bilbo glances around to behind him before looking towards the dwarves once more. “Am I what?”

“He said he’s an expert!” Oin spoke cheerily. Of course, the dwarf with the horn to aid his hearing would say as such.

“Me? No, no, no, no, no,” your husband started, eyes darting to each dwarf, hoping his point would get across. “I’m not a burglar. I’ve never stolen a thing in my life.”

You nodded your head in agreement. As much as you love your husband, he is quite the stickler for following rules.

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Mister Baggins,” Balin was next to speak. “He’s hardly burglar material.”

You supressed a chuckle as Bilbo, although relieved that someone agreed, looked the tiniest bit offended.

The group of dwarves began to chatter and raise in volume, no words could actually be comprehended by yourself, it all a jumble of noises. Then Gandalf raised out of the seat slightly, his voice booming over the racket the dwarves created.

“ENOUGH! IF I SAY BILBO BAGGINS IS A BURGLAR,” he lowered his voice with each following word. “Then a burglar he is.” Bilbo looked as if he wanted to protest but no words left his mouth.

“Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet,” he continued. “In fact, they can pass by unseen by most if they chose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to them which gives us an distinct advantage.”

The whole discussion about your husband was unnerving for you. You disliked how your husband was talked of like a ploy in some silly game.

“This quest is no place for gentlefolk.” Thorins’ tone was as if the words left a vile taste in his mouth, clearly showing his disgust for your husband. “He probably wouldn’t last 5 miles away from his precious little home. Look at him, Gandalf! He isn’t made for such things, it’s as clear as day. His big feet and rounded belly would slow us down. Your little Hobbit would cry out for home within a day.”

Your blood boiled with each word he spoke, an anger rising in you which you desperately tried to keep down. Your nails dug into the palms of your hands and your jaw was clenched tightly shut, but enough was enough.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF MY HUSBAND LIKE THAT?! NO LESS WHILST YOU ARE IN HIS HOME AND IN HIS PRESENCE!”

Your outburst caught the attention of every soul in the dining room around the table. Their eyes settled on your figure that stepped closer and closer to them up to the point where you stood glaring down at Thorin right beside his seat. Even Bilbos’ eyes were wide and looked almost ready to pop right out of their sockets.

“My husband may not be a fighter like you…you BRASS DWARVES! But he deserves no less respect. I will not stand for someone speaking down on my Bilbo in such a manner, even if they are some king,” you all but spat out.

Some of the dwarves looked offended that you spoke to their leader in such a way, others looked thoroughly shocked, surprised that a small thing as yourself had such a fire in you. Gandalf smirked as Bilbo looked like he genuinely feared for your safety. He had witnessed outbursts from you that scared him before, which were quite rare, you barely losing your temper, but for once, he was terrified of the consequences seeing as it wasn’t at him nor a fellow Hobbit.

But it was Thorins’ reaction that had you confused. He seemed…impressed?

Thorin turned towards Gandalf, a smirk of his own forming on his face. “Are you sure it was Mister Baggins you had wanted to join our quest?”

Gandalf chuckled and looked towards you and your husband, you now joined your side, who was silently scolding you with his eyes but nonetheless remaining the concerned, dotting husband. “I was certain on Mister Baggins being the 14th member of your company, but I would highly recommend you take a 15th as I believe Misses Baggins certainly has something of her own to bring to the quest.”

“They both have a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including themselves. You must trust me on this,” Gandalf finished.

Thorin looked at Gandalf and Gandalf at he for a moment, Thorin evidently mulling it over within his head before finally, he spoke. “Very well. We’ll do it your way. Give them the contract.”

Both yourself and Bilbo began to protest as Balin produced the document. He handed it over to Bilbo who unravelled the parchment and began to scan over the words, your eyes peering over his shoulder to read it for yourself.

As Bilbo and you busied yourselves with reading over the document, Thorin had leant over towards Gandalf to whisper within his ear. “I cannot guarantee their safety.”

“Understood,” Gandalf hummed in acknowledgement.

“You’ll be left responsible for their fate.”

“Agreed.”

Bilbo began to read aloud the text, brow furrowed out of concentration, your own face screwed up slightly, straining to peer at the words.

“Terms; cash on delivery up to but not exceeding 1 14th for total profit, if any. Seems fair, uhh-“

“Shouldn’t it be changed to 1 15th if I were to join?” you questioned aimlessly.

Bilbo nodded his head in agreement before continuing. “Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a government, thereof including but not limited to; lacerations. Evisceration?” He unfolds a piece further, reading before looking towards the group with a look of disbelief. “Incineration?!”

“Oh, aye. It’d melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye,” Bofur quipped with ease.

Many more ‘encouraging and reassuring’ words were spoken by Bofur, unnerving both yourself and Bilbo, though you hid it extremely well. The moment your husband passed out, was when Bofur seemed to finally relent.

“Oh dear.” You looked towards your husband laying on the floor unconscious with concern before turning towards the others with a worried expression.

Valar forbid you allow him to go with those dwarves and that conniving wizard alone.

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I mean, I don’t really have anything to say sooooo

If you want to be added to a taglist lemme know

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

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LOTR / The Hobbit taglist:

@iwazoomingouttahere​ 

[thefanficmonster]

All The Colors

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Colorblindness, Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: The colors are not always seen but rather felt. Just like Y/N feels the colors through their best friend and boyfriend Corpse. That’s how they realize that what they can’t see is the most beautiful and genuine feeling in the world. The feeling of knowing something and someone so deeply.

Requested by my dear friend Lulu, who you might have known as greenieofshield. Unfortunately she’ll never get to read this fic and I’ll never forgive myself for not putting it out sooner but I’ll also never forgive the universe for being so cruel as to take her away so early. She was one of the best people I’ve ever met, always so full of optimism, always there to brighten up my day and make me smile. Always so strong and brave, never falling victim to the hate she received despite not being deserving of it. The world lost an angel the day she died and I as well as so many other people will forever miss her.

Love you and miss you with my whole soul and hear, Lulu. Hope they’re treating you right in heaven ❤

For what it’s worth, Y/N has never asked people to describe the colors to them. In their eyes that seemed like the equivalent of poorly patching up a wound: they could hear thousands upon thousands of descriptions of each color and still wouldn’t be able to imagine it. The descriptions would only make that worse to them. So to avoid feeling even more like they’re missing out they never asked.

However, that doesn’t mean they haven’t developed their own way to ‘visualize’ and imagine colors throughout the years. They’ve tried loads of different methods, few of which stuck around and not for long either. That is exactly why they frequently used to tell their friends: “You can’t paint me a rainbow with black and white and shades of grey and expect me not to feel like I’m missing out on something. Paint me the gloomy sky on a rainy day and only then we’ll be even cause you’re seeing the same greys I am.”

Little did they know how drastically their logic was about to change in the following years.

Speaking of said following years - they met Corpse who became one of their best friends in practically no time. And within just a few months of that friendship’s blossoming, a romance sparked. A romance their friends would jokingly refer to as ‘romance of a lifetime’. Maybe it was said jokingly but Lord knows they weren’t wrong in saying so because the two were completely head over heels for one another -s till are to this day - and never shied away from showing it.

Y/N and Corpse met through Rae who Y/N was staying with while on a little vacation to Los Angeles. To be even more specific here, the two met through a game of Among Us, the game responsible for many wonderful friendships since its release.

��Guys, guys, guys.“ Y/N said after sparking up a bickering session for falsely accusing ‘blue‘ of faking a task in Navigation during the final round for the day, “Here’s a little rule of thumb for whenever we play together again: don’t trust me if I accuse a color instead of a name.“ It’s safe to say that statement rose a few eyebrows in the Discord call, the confusion serving as amusement to them before they explained themself, “Oh, why that is? Hm, I don’t know, maybe cause I’m colorblind.”

Rae who was in on the scheme the whole time and was struggling to hold in her laughter finally snapped while the rest of the players were left processing the information that had been dropped on them.

“But you practically kicked our ass every single round?!“ Corpse said, amazement and confusion in his tone.

“Expect the unexpected from this schemer, take it from someone who’s known them for a decade now.“ Rae said, winking at her friend from across the room. Not failing to notice the blush on their cheeks while doing so though.

“Corpse, are you calling me a good liar?“ They poked a stick at him teasingly, desperately avoiding Rae’s gaze which widened the second she realized why her friend was so flustered by Corpse’s remark.

“Practically a con artist.“ He replied to them with a laugh, earning one from them in return.

And so they practically conned him into falling in love with them with their quick wit, sarcasm and cuteness. If someone is to ask Corpse if he expected to fall for Y/N, he’d probably say yes.

“They were like a magnet the moment they entered the lobby and started talking.“ He said once on a live stream in response to a question he received in the chat regarding Y/N, “It wasn’t hard at all, falling for them. What took me a while was realizing it. While I was referring to them as ‘best friend’ all my friends were rolling their eyes and going ‘Sure, bud.’ Just took me a bit to realize why.”

Luckily, it didn’t take him too long to grasp what his heart was actually screaming at him. Good thing they came to terms with it so soon too, otherwise they would’ve driven their friends insane.

Anyway, enough about what happened and what could’ve happened under one circumstance or another, what matters is the ‘here and now’ of their relationship. And trust me when I say it has never been better and it keeps getting better every day.

The beauty of what those two have is in the tiny every day things that they do for each other, the good morning texts even though the other person in probably just in the kitchen making breakfast while the other cannot find it in them to get out of bed; or it’s laced within the calls between them when neither of them are home or at least one of them is out and about, busy with a task they’ve probably been putting off for far too long. Don’t get me wrong though, the romantic gestures aren’t rare either. Random gifts are exchanged by them on regular intervals but one consistent and super romantic gesture that repeats a few times every year (of the two years they’ve been dating) is Corpse giving Y/N a bouquet of flowers.

A detail Y/N couldn’t help but take notice of was the fact that the bouquet was always made up of the same flowers with only small changes to the arrangement of them and maybe some tiny ones added too. Unfortunately, they aren’t artificial so they couldn’t have kept them thought they wish they could’ve. That being said, it goes without saying that those flowers mean the world to Y/N, the gesture actually - they know flowers are a common gift to give but anything they receive from Corpse is so special and makes them feel like the only person who’s ever received such a gift.

And so they got curious, they had to ask. They had to ask the question they never thought they’d actively ask considering their view of the topic. But they still did.

“Hey Corpse.“ Y/N spoke up out of the blue, breaking the silence that had fallen over them while they watched the movie they were only partially interested in given how exhausted they both were from devoting themselves to their respective tasks and responsibilities throughout the last few days.

Corpse hummed in response, the arm wrapped around their waist doing a little motion as if encouraging them to continue, his gaze immediately traveling down to his partner.

“What color are the flowers?“ They asked, gazing at the bouquet - a gift they had received from him for their birthday a few days prior - in the vase on the dining table.

They waited a few seconds but when they didn’t hear nor feel any sort of response from him they couldn’t help but look up at him. Upon doing so, they saw his small smile as his eyes too remained on the bouquet. “They’re black and white.“ He replied eventually, “Black roses and white daffodils.“ His gaze wandered away from the vase and down to meet theirs, “I don’t want you to think I’m seeing them in their ‘full beauty’ while you only see them in black and white. You are seeing them in their full beauty and not missing out on anything. They are absolutely beautiful black and white as they are.“

As a response to his answer, Y/N couldn’t suppress the growing smile on their face no matter how hard they tried. So they didn’t try at all, they let the smile lighten up their face before speaking up: “You’re a wonder, Corpse.” They said, pushing themself as upright as they could to be able to kiss his cheek. “However, you’re wrong.” They say when they pull away, smirking up at his confused expression, “My world was black and white until you came into it. You’re all the colors, Corpse. Your love’s red, joy’s yellow, sadness blue, chaos green. Love red. You’re all the colors and out of all the people that have tried to describe to me how they look, you have managed to do that just perfectly without even trying.”

Little did they know that’s exactly what he thinks of them - their world is black and white because all the colors live within them. Because they are all the colors.

And maybe they both are, seeing as how they came into each other’s lives exactly like the rainbow after the pouring rain.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse  @sunnyrae-cessh  @ladykxxx08  @meowiemari  @renupf  @booklover76  @sra-verissimo  @beatrhizn  @blueberrystigma  @beatrhizn

[alycosworld]

guess who🤡 heyhey 💕 here. I’m pretty sure by this 2nd request u can tell that I’m a very emotional person🧍🏻‍♀️ and that I’m a person that seeks alot of comfort from fictional characters because i dont have a life and good friends.

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putting a divider here so u dont have to read everything and can look out for keywords!

purple—> person

pink—>genre

green—>subject

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I’m not sure if u r comfy writing kazuha so if yr not I’m sorry u can ignore this! i just want a fluff comfort for reader who got like REALLY scolded for getting bad grades for exams because u have no idea how angsty I’m feeling rn:( my parents just literally like scolded me like there was no tmr istg- so i just need really fluff comfort. so a kazuha x NB(non bibary)!reader

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Anyways again tysm u have no idea how grateful i am if you accept my request!!!<3 get lots of rest and drink water. only do this if you want to!

byebye<3

-💕

Kazuha's Wise and Whimsical Words

Kaedehara Kazuha X Reader

A/N: aaaa 💕anon ily!! being emotional is completely fine and I would be honoured to become of your good friends!! I will be a part of your life, private message me if you're ever feeling down! I just want my readers happy because they make me happy aaaaaa 🥺

with that being said, i love this request! My parents were so hard on me when it came to exams, but as soon as I broke away from their expectations, I started to appreciate my grades more. I'll leave the real comforting words for Kazuha to say but NO ONE SHOULD EVER be disappointed in yourself if you tried your best. Thank you for your support and the request, I hope the story makes you feel better. Enjoy!

ps: I took into account the fact that not everyone has a mother and a father and not everyone has two parents at all, so only one parent is mentioned here and they are left gender neutral so it's easier to picture yourself in the story.

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"(Y/N). This is not at all what I expected. What happened to you?" Your parent asked sternly.

"Well, I--"

"I don't want to hear any excuses. Your predicted grades were much higher than this!" They said, raising their voice.

"I'm sorry, I--"

"Sorry is not going to improve your results! Do you really think that now is a good time to be slacking off? You have one more exam period before university. I don't care if you pass those exams, I want you to excel. And if you don't, you are not attending Sumeru Academia, whether they accept you or not. I am not paying for you to study overseas, only for you to get mediocre grades." They said, making you even more anxious than before the exam.

"But I got above the average!"

"By two percent! And the average was low." Your parent said, narrowing their eyes slightly and upsetting you with their belittling gaze.

"Realistically--"

"Realistically? Realistically?! If you want to study realistically, you should find someone else to pay for your education. When you want to study successfully, you can come back." They slammed the stack of sheets that displayed your results on the table with a loud bang before folding their arms as you grabbed a jacket and stormed out of the house, tears running down your face.

You walked for a while in the night, before eventually finding yourself in an area you were less familiar with. After recognising it to be somewhere near your boyfriend's current residence off Beidou's ship, you made a beeline for his place, knocking on the door and hoping, praying he would be alone inside.

The door soon opened and Kazuha stood there, initially with a smile on his face but it soon dropped when he saw your expression.

"(Y/N)? What happened?" He asked.

"C-can I come inside?" You sniffled.

"Of course, Love. Come in." He said, ushering you into his quaint little place. You stood by the door that closed behind you before Kazuha pushed the coat you had lazily draped over your shoulder onto the floor and enveloped you in his arms.

You broke down in his embrace. You had done better than most of your fellow students, and frankly, you were kind of proud of your result. But it was foolish of you to think that your parent would accept anything but perfection. They said it was all for you, but you were doubting it. Did you even want to go to Sumeru Academia? You had had your heart set on it since you were a child, but maybe that was only because your folks always envisioned you going there.

"Why are you crying, my love?" Kazuha asked, sitting you down near the fire to warm you up and standing up to get you a blanket and a hot cup of tea.

"I'm not good enough." You mumbled. If it was anyone else, they wouldn't have heard you. But your boyfriend could listen to the wind "talk" - he was very attuned to quiet and subtle noises.

"Nonsense." He smiled, bringing you the blanket as you listened to the water boil in the background.

"You're more than good enough. Everyone who knows you adores you - no one more than me, of course." Kazuha chuckled, eventually setting down two cups of tea and sitting in front of you on the floor.

"Public opinion won't improve my grades." You said, now more stoic than upset. You had almost become numb and desensitised to degrading comments that after you cried a little and calmed down, you'd be straight-faced and almost emotionless. It didn't feel good, but it was certainly better than feeling bad.

"So this is about school." Kazuha nodded, gesturing for you to continue explaining why had happened.

"They keep talking about my grades. They said I shouldn't be slacking and that I'm not going to get to Sumeru Academia and that they want me to do better...maybe I'm interpreting it wrong. Maybe they're trying to encourage me?" You wondered aloud, thinking that somehow you were the problem. As soon as you said "they", Kazuha knew who you are referring to and sighed.

"Encouragement and doubt are two very different things. Unrealistic expectations, detrimental practices, emotionally, mentally or physically taxing improvement - none of that is going to help you. In fact, it'll make you feel worse. When you really think about what you have to do to achieve perfection, you'll only realise how unattainable it is. You'll fall into a perpetual spiral of intellectual destruction." Kazuha said.

"Then how the hell am I gonna get the best results?" You asked worriedly.

"You won't. No one will ever get the best results because more people and more previously unforeseen factors will come into play. What you can achieve is your best results. Your grades are a product of you, not the other way around. They are no measure of your worth, they cannot define you, and they do not have to be a part of you. If you don't ace one subject, you don't have to hang on to that or turn it into some strange part of you. You can't cling to it, it's impossible to cling to a piece of the past forever. That's not to say you don't learn from it, but it doesn't need to become some villainous trait - in the end, it is only a grade." Kazuha shield at you. His words warmed your heart more than the fire or tea, and they even seemed to dry your tears and allow you to mirror his expression.

"And at the very least, you can hold your head high knowing that you had the strength to participate in an exam when not everyone does. You went in, sat through it, attempted the questions and walked out. Not everyone has the courage to stay; some don't even have the courage to start. That goes for any endeavour you face." Kazuha said, before inching closer to you.

"Feeling any better?" He asked. You nodded instantly. Of course, Kazuha's wise and whimsical words had bettered your mood, it was Kazuha for Archon's sake.

"Good. Maybe we could go for an evening stroll? I'll treat you to dinner if you haven't eaten." He offered.

"Can...can we just stay like this for a little longer? I think being alone with you is nicer." You smiled.

"Of course, Angel. Anything you want."

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this was less physical fluff than I intended, but I think I do comfort with direct words and dialogue best, so I hope this is okay. honestly, everything kasha said is what I would've wished to hear when I was in this situation. I'll probably post a rant about my own exam experiences because this request got all my past feelings to resurface.

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

[army-of-mai-lovers]

in which I get progressively angrier at the various tropes of atla fandom misogyny

tbh I think it would serve all of us to have a larger conversation about the specific ways misogyny manifests in this fandom, because I’ve seen a lot of people who characterize themselves as feminists, many of whom are women themselves, discuss the female characters of atla/lok in misogynistic ways, and people don’t talk about it enough. 

disclaimer before I start: I’m not a woman, I’m an afab nonbinary person who is semi-closeted and thus often read as a woman. I’m speaking to things that I’ve seen that have made me uncomfy, but if any women (esp women existing along other axes of oppression, e.g. trans women, women of color, disabled women, etc) want to add onto this post, please do!

“This female character is a total badass but I’m not even a little bit interested in exploring her as a human being.” 

I’ve seen a lot of people say of various female characters in atla/lok, “I love her! She’s such a badass!” now, this statement on its own isn’t misogynistic, but it represents a pretty pervasive form of misogyny that I’ve seen leveled in large part toward the canon female love interests of one or both of the members of a popular gay ship (*cough* zukka *cough*) I’m going to use Suki as an example of this because I see it with her most often, but it can honestly be applied to nearly every female character in atla/lok. Basically, people will say that they stan Suki, but when it comes time to engage with her as an actual character, they refuse to do it. I’ve seen meta after meta about Zuko’s redemption arc, but I so rarely see people engage with Suki on any level beyond “look at this cool fight scene!” and yeah, I love a cool Suki fight scene as much as anybody else, but I’m also interested in meta and headcanons and fics about who she is as a person, when she isn’t an accessory to Sokka’s development or doing something cool. of course, the material for this kind of engagement with Suki is scant considering she doesn’t have a canon backstory (yet) (don’t let me down Faith Erin Hicks counting on you girl) but with the way I’ve seen people in this fandom expand upon canon to flesh out male characters, I know y’all have it in you to do more with Suki, and with all the female characters, than you currently do. frankly, the most engagement I’ve seen with Suki in mainstream fandom is justifying either zukki (which again, is characterizing her in relation to male characters, one of whom she barely interacts with in canon) or one of the Suki wlw pairings. which brings me to--

“I conveniently ship this female character whose canon love interest is one of the members of my favorite non-canon ship with another female character! gay rights!” 

now, I will admit, two of my favorite atla ships are yueki and mailee, and so I totally understand being interested in these characters’ dynamics, even if, as is the case with yueki, they’ve never interacted canonically. however, it becomes a problem for me when these ships are always in the background of a zukka fic. at some point, it becomes obvious that you like this ship because it gets either Zuko or Sokka’s female love interests out of the way, not because you actually think the characters would mesh well together. It’s bad form to dislike a female character because she gets in the way of your gay ship, so instead, you find another girl to pair her off with and call it a day. to be clear, I’m not saying that everybody who ships either mailee or yueki (or tysuki or maisuki or yumai or whatever other wlw rarepair involving Zuko or Sokka’s canon love interests) is nefariously trying to sideline a female character while acting publicly as if she’s is one of their faves--far from it--but it is noteworthy to me how difficult it is to find content that centers wlw ships, while it’s incredibly easy to find content that centers zukka in which mailee and/or yueki plays a background role. 

also, notice how little traction wlw Katara ships gain in this fandom. when’s the last time you saw yuetara on your dash? there’s no reason for wlw Katara ships to gain traction in a fandom that is so focused on Zuko and Sokka getting together, bc she doesn’t present an immediate obstacle to that goal (at least, not an obstacle that can be overcome by pairing her up with a woman). if you are primarily interested in Zuko and Sokka’s relationship, and your queer readings of other female characters are motivated by a desire to get them out of the way for zukka, then Katara’s canon m/f relationship isn’t a threat to you, and thus, there’s no reason to read her as potentially queer. Or even, really, to think about her at all. 

“Katara’s here but she’s not actually going to do anything, because deep down, I’m not interested in her as a person.” 

the show has an enormous amount of textual evidence to support the claim that Sokka and Katara are integral parts of each other’s lives. so, she typically makes some kind of appearance in zukka content. sometimes, her presence in the story is as an actual character with layers and nuance, someone whom Sokka cares about and who cares about Sokka in return, but also has her own life and goals outside of her brother (or other male characters, for that matter.) sometimes, however, she’s just there because halfway through writing the author remembered that Sokka actually has a sister who’s a huge part of the show they’re writing fanfiction for, and then they proceed to show her having a meetcute with Aang or helping Sokka through an emotional problem, without expressing wants or desires outside of those characters. I’m honestly really surprised that I haven’t seen more people calling out the fact that so much of Katara’s personality in fanon revolves around her connections to men? she’s Aang’s girlfriend, she’s Sokka’s sister, she’s Zuko’s bestie. never mind that in canon she spends an enormous amount of time fighting against (anachronistic, Westernized) sexism to establish herself as a person in her own right, outside of these connections. and that in canon she has such interesting complex relationships with other female characters (e.g. Toph, Kanna, Hama, Korra if you want to write lok content) or that there are a plethora of characters with whom she could have interesting relationships with in fanon (Mai, Suki, Ty Lee, Yue, Smellerbee, and if you want to write lok content, Kya II, Lin, Asami, Senna, etc). to me, the lack of fandom material exploring Katara’s relationships with other women or with herself speak to a profound indifference to Katara as a character. I’m not saying you have to like Katara or include her in everything you write, but I am asking you to consider why you don’t find her interesting outside of her relationships with men.

“I hate Katara because she talks about her mother dying too often.” 

this is something I’ve seen addressed by people far more qualified than I to address it, but I want to mention it here in part because when I asked people which fandom tropes they wanted me to talk about, this came up often, but also because I find it really disgusting that this is a thing that needs to be addressed at all. Y’all see a little girl who watched her mother be killed by the forces of an imperialist nation and say that she talks about it too much??? That is a formational, foundational event in a child’s life. Of course she’s going to talk about it. I’ve seen people say that she doesn’t talk about it that often, or that she only talks about it to connect with other victims of fn imperialism e.g. Jet and Haru, but frankly, she could speak about it every episode for no plot-significant reason whatsoever and I would still be angry to see people say she talks about it too much. And before you even bring up the Sokka comparison, people deal with grief in different ways. Sokka  repressed a lot of his grief/channeled it into being the “man” of his village because he knew that they would come for Katara next if he gave them the opportunity. he probably would talk about his mother more if a) he didn’t feel massive guilt at not being able to remember what she looked like, and b) he was allowed to be a child processing the loss of his mother instead of having to become a tiny adult when Hakoda had to leave to help fight the fn. And this gets into an intersection with fandom racism, in that white fans (esp white American fans) are incapable of relating to the structural trauma that both Sokka and Katara experience and thus can’t see the ways in which structural trauma colors every single aspect of both of their characters, leading them to flatten nuance and to have some really bad takes. And you know what, speaking of bad fandom takes--   

“Shitting on Mai because she gets in the way of my favorite Zuko ship is actually totally okay because she’s ~abusive~” 

y’all WHAT. 

ok listen, I get not liking maiko. I didn’t like it when I first got into fandom, and later I realized that while bryke cannot write romance to save their lives, fans who like maiko sure can, so I changed my tune. but if you still don’t like it, that’s fine. no skin off my back. 

what IS skin off my back is taking instances in which Mai had justified anger toward Zuko, and turning it into “Mai abused Zuko.” do you not realize how ridiculous you sound? this is another thing where I get so angry about it that I don’t know how useful my analysis is actually going to be, but I’ll do my best. numerous people have noted how analysis of Mai and Zuko’s breakup in “The Beach” or Mai being justifiably angry with him at Boiling Rock or her asking for FUCKING FRUIT in “Nightmares and Daydreams” that says that all of these events were her trying to gain control over him is....ahhh...lacking in reading comprehension, but I’d like to go a step further and talk about why y’all are so intent on taking down a girl who doesn’t show emotion in normative ways. obviously, there’s a “Zuko can do no wrong” aspect to Mai criticism (which is super weird considering how his whole arc is about how he can do lots of wrong and he has to atone for the wrong that he’s done--but that’s a separate post.) But I also see slandering Mai for not expressing her emotions normatively and not putting up with Zuko’s shit and slandering Katara for “talking about her mother too often” as two sides of the same coin. In both cases, a female character expresses emotions that make you, the viewer, uncomfortable, and so instead of attempting to understand where those emotions may have come from and why they might be manifesting the way they are, y’all just throw the whole character away. this is another instance of people in the fandom being fundamentally disinterested in engaging with the female characters of atla in a real way, except instead of shallowly “stanning” Mai, y’all hate her. so we get to this point where female characters are flattened into one of two things: perfect queens who can do no wrong, or bitches. and that’s not who they are. that’s not who anyone is. but while we as a fandom are pretty good at understanding b1 Zuko’s actions as layered and multifaceted even though he’s essentially an asshole then, few are willing to lend the same grace to any female character, least of all Mai. 

and what’s funny is sometimes this trope will intersect with “I conveniently ship this female character whose canon love interest is one of the members of my favorite non-canon ship with another female character! gay rights!”, so you’ll have someone actively calling Mai toxic/problematic/abusive, and at the same time ship her with Ty Lee? make it make sense! but then again, maybe that’s happening because y’all are fundamentally disinterested in Ty Lee as a character too. 

“I love Ty Lee so much that I’m going to treat her like an infantilized hypersexual airhead!” 

there are so many things happening in y’alls characterization of Ty Lee that I struggled to synthesize it into one quippy section header. on one hand, you have the hypersexualization, and on the other hand, you have the infantilization, which just makes the hypersexualization that much worse. 

(of course, sexualizing or hypersexualizing ANY atla character is really not the move, considering that these are child characters in a children’s show, but then again, that’s a separate post.) 

now, I understand how, from a very, very surface reading of the text, you could come to the conclusion that Ty Lee is an uncomplicated bimbo. if you grew up on Western media the way I did, you’ll know that Ty Lee has a lot of the character traits we associate with bimbos: the form-fitting pink crop top, the general conventional attractiveness, the ditzy dialogue. but if you think about it for more than three seconds, you’ll understand that Ty Lee has spent her whole life walking a tightrope, trying to please Azula and the rest of the royal family while also staying true to herself. Ty Lee and Azula’s relationship is a really complex and interesting topic that I don’t really have time to explore at the moment given how long this post is, but I’d argue that Ty Lee’s constant, vocal  adulation is at least partially a product of learning to survive at court at an early age. Like Mai, she has been forced to regulate her emotions as a member of fn nobility, but unlike Mai, she also has six sisters who look exactly like her, so she has a motivation to be more peppy and more affectionate to stand out. 

fandom does not do the work to understand Ty Lee. as is a theme with this post, fandom is actively disinterested in investigating female characters beyond a very surface level reading of them. Thus, fandom takes Ty Lee’s surface level qualities--her love of the color pink, her revealing standard outfit, and the fact that once she found a boy attractive and also once a lot of boys found her attractive--and they stretch this into “Ty Lee is basically Karen Smith from Mean Girls.” thus, Ty Lee is painted as a bimbo, or more specifically, as not smart, uncritically adoring of Azula (did y’all forget all the non-zukka bits of Boiling Rock?), and attractive to the point of hypersexualization. I saw somebody make a post that was like “I wish mailee was more popular but I’m also glad it isn’t because otherwise people would write it as Mai having to put up with her dumb gf” and honestly I have to agree!! this is one instance in which I’m glad that fandom doesn’t discuss one of my favorite characters that often because I hate the fanon interpretation of Ty Lee, I think it’s rooted in misogyny (particularly misogyny against East Asian women, which often takes the form of fetishizing them and viewing them only through a Western white male gaze)  

(side note: here at army-of-mai-lovers, we stan bimbos. bimbos are fucking awesome. I personally don’t read Ty Lee as a bimbo, but if that’s you, that’s fucking awesome. keep doing what you’re doing, queen <3 or king or monarch, it’s 2021, anyone can be a bimbo, bitches <3)

“Toph can and will destroy everyone here with her bare hands because she’s a meathead who likes to murder people and that’s it!”  

Toph is, and always has been, one of my favorite ATLA characters. My very first fic in fandom was about her, and she appears prominently in a lot of my other work as well. One thing that I am always struck by with Toph is how big a heart she has. She’s independent, yes, snarky, yes, but she cares about people--even the family that forced her to make herself smaller because they didn’t believe that their blind daughter could be powerful and strong. Her storyline is powerful and emotionally resonant, her bending is cool precisely because it’s based in a “wait and listen” approach instead of just smashing things indiscriminately, she’s great disabled rep, and overall one of the best characters in the show. 

And in fandom, she gets flattened into “snarky murder child.” 

So where does this come from? Well, as we all know, Toph was originally conceived of as a male character, and retained a lot of androgyny (or as the kids call it, Gender) when she was rewritten as a female character. There are a lot of cultural ideas about androgynous/butch women being violent, and people in fandom seem to connect that larger cultural narrative with some of Toph’s more violent moments in the show to create the meathead murder child trope, erasing her canon emotionality, softness, heart, and femininity in the process. 

This is not to say that you shouldn’t write or characterize Toph as being violent or snarky at all ever, because yeah, Toph definitely did do Earth Rumbles a lot before joining the gaang, and yeah, Toph is definitely a sarcastic person who makes fun of her friends a lot. What I am saying is that people take these traits, sans the emotional logic, marry them to their conception of androgynous/butch women as violent/unemotional/uncaring, and thus create a caricature of Toph that is not at all up to snuff. When I see Toph as a side character in a fic (because yeah, Toph never gets to be a main character, because why would a fandom obsessed with one male character in particular ever make Toph a protagonist in her own right?) she’s making fun of people, killing people, pranking people, etc, etc. She’s never talking to people about her emotions, or palling around with her found family, or showing that she cares about her friends. Everything about her relationship with her parents, her disability, her relationship to Gender, and her love of her friends is shoved aside to focus on a version of Toph that is mean and uncaring because people have gotten it into their heads that androgynous/butch women are mean and uncaring. 

again, we see a female character who does not emote normatively or in a way that makes you, the viewer, comfortable, and so you warp her character until she’s completely unrecognizable and flat. and for what? 

Azula

no, I didn’t come up with a snappy name for this section, mainly because fanon interpretations of Azula and my own feelings toward the character are...complicated. I know there were some people who wanted me to write about Azula and the intersection of misogyny and ableism in fanon interpretations of her character, but I don’t think I can deliver on that because I personally am in a period of transition with how I see Azula. that is to say, while I still like her and believe that she can be redeemed, there is a lot of merit to disliking her. the whole point of this post is that the female characters of ATLA are complex people whom the fandom flattens into stereotypes that don’t hold up to scrutiny, or dislike for reasons that don’t make sense. Azula, however, is a different case. the rise of Azula defenders and Azula stans has led to this sentiment that Azula is a 14 y/o abuse victim who shouldn’t be held accountable for her actions. it seems to me that people are reacting to a long, horrible legacy of male ATLA fans armchair diagnosing Azula with various personality disorders (and suggesting that people with those personality disorders are inherently monstrous and unlovable which ahhhh....yikes) and then saying that those personality disorders make her unlovable, which is quite obviously bad. and hey, I get loving a character that everyone else hates and maybe getting so swept up in that love that you forget that your fave is complicated and has made some unsavory choices. it sucks that fanon takes these well-written, complex villains/antiheroes and turns them into monsters with no critical thought whatsoever. but the attitude among Azula stans that her redemption shouldn’t be hard, that her being a child excuses all of the bad things that she’s done, that she is owed redemption....all of that rubs me the wrong way. I might make another post about this in the future that discusses this in more depth, but as it stands now: while I understand that there is a legacy of misogynistic, ableist, unnuanced takes on Azula, the backlash to that does not take into account the people she hurt or the fact that in ATLA she does not make the choice to pursue redemption. and yes, Zuko had help in making that choice that Azula didn’t, and yes, Azula is a victim of abuse, but in a show about children who have gone through untold horrors and still work to better the lives of the people around them, that is not enough for me to uncritically stan her. 

Conclusion    

misogyny in this fandom runs rampant. while there are some tropes of fandom misogyny that are well-documented and have been debunked numerous times, there are other, subtler forms of misogyny that as far as I know have gone completely unchecked. 

what I find so interesting about misogyny in atla fandom is that it’s clear that it’s perpetrated by people who are aware of fandom misogyny who are actively trying not to be misogynistic. when I first joined atla fandom last summer, memes about how zukka fandom was better than every other fandom because they didn’t hate the female characters who got in the way of their gay ship were extremely prevalent, and there was this sense that *this* fandom was going to model respectful, fun, feminist online fandom. not all of the topes I’ve outlined are exclusive to or even largely utilized in zukka fandom, but a lot of them are. I’ve been in and out of fandom since I was eleven years old, and most of the fandom spaces I’ve been in have been majority-female, and all of them have been incredibly misogynistic. and I always want to know why. why, in these communities created in large part by women, in large part for women, does misogyny run wild? what I realize now is that there’s never going to be a one-size fits all answer to that question. what’s true for 1D fandom on Wattpad in 2012 is absolutely not true for atla fandom on tumblr in 2021. the answers that I’ve cobbled together for previous fandoms don’t work here. 

so, why is atla fandom like this? why did the dream of a feminist fandom almost entirely focused on the romantic relationship between two male characters fall apart? honestly, I think the notion that zukka fandom ever was this way was horrifically ignorant to begin with. from my very first moment in the fandom, I was seeing racism, widespread sexualization of minors, and yes, misogyny. these aspects of the fandom weren’t talked about as much as the crocverse or other, much more fun aspects. further, atla (specifically zukka) fandom misogyny often doesn’t look like the fandom misogyny we’ve become familiar with from like, Sherlock fandom or what have you. for the most part, people don’t actively hate Suki, they just “stan” without actually caring about her. they hate Mai because they believe in treating male victims of abuse equally. they’re not characterizing Toph poorly, they’re writing her as a “strong woman.” in short, people are misogynistic, and then invoke a shallow, incomplete interpretation of feminist theory to shield themselves from accusations of misogyny. it’s not unlike the way some people will invoke a shallow, incomplete interpretation of critical race theory to shield themselves from accusations of racism, or how they’ll talk about “freedom of speech” and “the suppression of women’s sexuality” to justify sexualizing minors. the performance of feminism and antiracism is what’s important, not the actual practice. 

if you’ve made it this far, first off, hi, thanks so much for reading, I know this was a lot. second, I would seriously encourage you to be aware of these fandom tropes and to call them out when you see them. elevate the voices of fans who do the work of bringing the female characters of atla to life. invest in the wlw ships in this fandom. drop a kudos and a comment on a rangshi fic (please, drop a kudos and a comment on a rangshi fic). read some yuetara. let’s all be honest about where we are now, and try to do better in the future. I believe in us. 

[polymathart]

PolySpeaks: Lumity Confession

A number of people have probably already expressed similar thoughts as the ones I am going to present here. But I wanted to take the chance to jot things down in my own way. (images pending)

From Amity’s perspective, she’s so frustrated yet so head over heels for Luz and she doesn’t understand how it’s possible for her to love the person who has totally turned her world upside down. This isn’t to say that Luz ruined Amity’s life. I think we can all agree Luz has just made her life better. As Emira says to her, “Is that such a bad thing? You weren’t happy before. Ed, don’t pick, you’ll make it worse.”

But from Luz’s perspective, she has just screwed up so bad. And she is well aware of her terrible track record for these things. And from the way she curls up when Amity interrupts her apology, I believe she either A) was thinking “Okay, Luz, here it comes again. And you know it’s gonna hurt” or B) “Usually people let me finish my apology. But I just messed up so bad that Amity can’t wait to lay it all on me.”

Also, this season has shown how Luz has become more responsible and capable. Season 1 Luz was always running to Eda to bail her out. Season 2 Luz is all about being the one to help others out of trouble. “Separate Tides” did a fantastic job of nailing that home—Luz trying to make the money for the Owl House rather than being the primary investment of it. “Escaping Expulsion” had her putting herself on the line for her friends, only this time she went in truly alone. She didn’t rope anyone else into it. Eda’s conversation with Luz in “Separate Tides” and her back to back with Amity during “Escaping Expulsion” served to remind her that all this “alone” business wasn’t helping anyone either.

So back to the “confession,” Luz feels like she was on the verge of losing a friend. She can’t bear it, so she pulls her hair back into Grom mode. And I will say that I adore that they made that callback. I can see Luz pulling her hair back into Grom mode becoming her signature “no more messing around” mode. She marches back into the library and reclaims Amity’s honor job. And she returns to Blight Manor fully prepared for another round of Amity’s frustration. That’s why she is so quick to accept that Amity probably never wants to see her again.

The Kiss

Amity kissing Luz is Amity basically becoming confident enough to approach Luz at last. And it also was her finally reigning in all these conflicting emotions she has about liking Luz. She realizes that maybe liking Luz, despite all the calamity she brings with her, isn’t so bad after all. She kisses Luz on the cheek. And it filled my heart with so much joy seeing that Amity doesn’t think twice about it. It shows how she feels that, yes, this is okay, and this is alright.

When I first started watching the show, I thought Luz was just the weird girl in school. But now I see, after how having just a few friends on the Boiling Isles is something way more than she ever got in the Human Realm, she really, really was an outcast. I might have been projecting myself onto Luz when Camilla asked her if she had any real friends. Personally, I’m used to not having friends and it doesn’t usually bother me much. For me, not having many friends is just normal and doesn’t hurt as bad. But it definitely is a tough thing for Luz.

What is Luz’s reaction? Keep in mind that Luz probably has had many crushes before and probably never been crushed on by anyone or has ever had her feelings reciprocated. She was probably bullied or outcasted at her human school. Most people are used to being liked by 3 out of 4 people and dismiss the fourth person who doesn’t like them. For Luz, I speculate it is the inverse: she is used to 3 out of 4 people not liking her and a rare, brief instance of 1 person actually liking her. So she naturally is still hooked on the idea that Amity never wants to see her again. Getting a “bad ending” is normal for her. Technically she has not even received confirmation that Amity still wants to be her friend. They got distracted by the hair, the siblings, and the rat.

So what does the kiss do for her? 1) It negates her notion that Amity has already decided to stop being her friend. 2) It proves that people can INDEED like her and forgive her. 3) It proves that her efforts were not in vain. 4) For once, her crush on someone did not end in disaster. 5) In fact, somebody actually likes her back. Somebody likes her back enough that they make the first real move on her. All these things collide against each other at once. Luz visibly cannot react to all these 5 truths she just learned. She can only gasp. And when Amity bids her “farewell forever,” Luz is still processing. And her knees fail her because of just how much is racing through her heart and through her mind.

[thatharringrovehoe]

Steve having to try to explain, with Billy, to The Party that they cannot lock people in the sauna every time they think someone is possessed. (Non possession of Billy au)

Yooo! I love this idea!!!

Steve doesn't even know where to fucking begin. It was one thing to be called during work with no more of an explanation than "it's the upside down, get here now", nearly flinging him into a full out panic attack before he ditched Robin with the rest of their shift to drive well over the speed limit all the way to the Hawkins pool. But this? This was some bullshit. Because the kids for some God forsaken reason had decided to lock his fucking boyfriend in a sauna and cook a demon out of him. A demon that wasn't even there.

The kids were all in a line, shame faced and embarassed. Maybe a little scared, because Steve doesn't think that he's ever made whatever expression he's currently making before. Had never been so rediculously relieved and infuriated at the same time. Doesn't know what to do with it all. Because while the brats had had good intentions, it very well almost landed Billy in the hospital. He could still hear him breathing heavily on the bench behind him, cold towel over his head and bucket between his knees because the kids nearly gave him heat stroke. Has been shaking just a little, trying to breath through the nausea.

Steve takes a deep breath to center himself. Tries to unclench his jaw enough to speak.

"I want a name. "

It must not be what they expect him to say. Their eyes shift back and forth to each other in confusion.

Max speaks first.

"A name?"

Her voice is high and small and fuck it just reminds Steve how young they all are. How incredibly dangerous they little stunt was. How much worse it could have been.

"Who's idea was it to lock Billy in the sauna?"

Steve knows his voice sounds a lot more sharp than he means it to but he can't help it. Has to drive home just how much he's not fucking around.

To Steve's suprise Will is the one to step forward. He squares his shoulders and looks Steve right in the eye.

"it was my idea. I'm-.. I'm sorry. I was just so sure I-.. We were just trying to help. I know what it's like to have that thing inside you and I didn't want anyone else to have to... We just wanted to help."

Mike steps forward looking righteous and a little more confident than he should.

"If he's not posessed they why was he wearing a sweatshirt at the pool? And chewing ice?! It was suspicious as hell."

El pulls him back wearing a stern look. Shakes her head. And Steve is greatful for it. Cuz he knows that Billy and his dad had gotten into it a few nights ago and Billy was still littered with bruises. That his cheek was sore from how hard he bit it when Neil backhanded him. Had been sucking on ice for that exact reason. But he knew Billy didn't want anyone to know.

Jesus Christ. What was Steve supposed to do? The sauna door is ripped off it's hinges. Steve looks over at it, all crumpled and dented. Apperantly as soon as they figured out that Billy was in fact not possessed, they realized that they had been boiling Max's brother alive for almost an hour. El was a little heavy handed with how fast they got him out. He heaves a sigh one can only draw when dealing with willful teenagers. Billy retches into the bucket behind him. For fucks sake.

"Alright dipshitsl I'm only going to say this once. I understand what you were trying to do. You're hearts were in the right place."

They look relieved. It is short lived.

"How-fucking-ever! What you did was still the most reckless and irresponsible bullshit I've ever heard. You should have called someone before you decided to step in. Billy could have been seriously hurt. And even if you were right? What the fuck were you even gunna do? The last time this thing took over a host it gave a thirteen year old enough strength to choke out a full grown adult! An eighteen year old Billy Hargrove with mindflayer powers would have ripped you to fucking pieces!"

He's breathing heavier than Billy by the time he's done. The kids look properly chastised, thankfully, so Steve sends them shuffling on their way to Hopper and Joyce who are waiting outside to give them a ride. Both the adults knew that Steve was going to give them a better dressing down then either of them at the moment. Not that they wouldn't also be giving the kids a piece of their minds later.

With that sorted, Steve turns around and gets down on his knees in front of Billy.

"Hey baby. You okay?"

Billy's head is still hung over the bucket, the towel obscuring any view of his face. He gives a small nod.

"Joyce said you should be fine but you should take a cool shower before we leave. Can you walk?"

Another small nod. Then Billy is pulling off the towel with a groan. Looks up at Steve. And God if Steve didn't love those kids he would kill them. Cuz Billy's face is blotchy and flushed. Drenched in sweat and tears. Steve leans in to kiss his forhead before helping him to the showers.

It's slow going. Billy is dizzy and sweaty and heavy. Leaning mostly on Steve as they finally make it to a shower stall. He figures that Billy probably can't stand for long enough in the cool water on his own so he grits his teeth and helps hold Billy up as the spray hits both of them. Billy shoves his face into Steve's neck and whimpers.

After a few minutes Billy seems to become more aware. Winds his arms around Steve's midsection and squeezes. Both their teeth are chattering so they finish the shower and make their way back to Billy's locker. Steve is gently squeezing the water out of Billy's hair with a towel when he finally speaks.

"What the fuck is a mind flayer?"

Steve freezes. Well fuck.

"Yeah I guess it's time to have that talk with you. I uh. I was kinda hoping we would be off to California before I would have to tell you this. It's... Kind of fucked."

Billy gives an irritated huff.

"Does it have anything to do with that weird dog thing in the Byers fridge?"

Steve isn't even surprised at this point. Just pulls Billy in for a gentle kiss.

"Yeah. Yeah it does."

Billy grunts in acknowledgment. Then.

"Nice uniform by the way pretty boy. If I wasn't so fucked up right now I'd fuck you up against one of these lockers."

Steve can feel the blush bleed from his cheeks to his toes. He hadn't even had time to change.

"Raincheck killer. But you can sleep over at mine tonight. Gotta keep an eye on you after all this."

Early the next morning as he wakes up before the asscrack of dawn to cover one of Robbins opening shifts in exchange for bailing yesterday, he just lays there with Billy sleeping in his arms. Let's the relief flood through him as he holds his boyfriend. So very glad the kids had been wrong. Didn't want to think of the alternative. Breaths in the smell of cigarettes and chlorine. Of sunscreen. Of Billy.

[kaepop-trash]

Just make Johnny propose? I can't take it anymore.

How demanding of you. This made me a mess and I hope you will take responsibility for this. I cannot get over what a sweet boyfriend Johnny would be. I hope you like it!

_

The clatter of pots and pans clattering was the sound that filled the mostly empty restaurant that was barely open. (Y/N) sank her chin into her scarf and held the cup of tea the waitress just left on the table close to her chest. It had turned out to be very cold this winter, and being out at 5am in Chinatown was the worst idea Johnny had till date. Her teeth clattered and she took another sip of the tea, the boiling liquid still not enough to soothe the chill settling into her bones.

She turned up to give Johnny an impatient look. 

He looked as unaffected by the cold as he was by most things. His scarf undone and draped over his neck as he sat back and relaxed into the seat, a sharp contrast to how she sat bundled up. He looked every bit the Midwestern boy he was at the moment. 

A sign that read 'Merry Christmas' blinked red and white at the glass window of the restaurant, the reflection of it illuminating Johnny's face. The light shifted between red and white, making him look dreamy in the haze of her sleepy eyes.

She shivered again, shaking her arms to try to speed her slowing circulation, shifting back to hunch into her seat and look at the table. The movement gained Johnny's attention, who turned to give her a glance laced with amusement.

She shivered again, "Where is this noodle soup that you promise is only good in the ungodly hours of the morning?" She questioned, her voice soft.

"It's coming." Johnny promised, "Come here." He patted the empty space beside him on the bench, "You look like you're going to freeze mid-sentence." He scoffed with a smile, shaking his head.

"Don't gloat.” She glared at him, “Not all of us were raised in 11 degree winters.” She retorted, getting up to sit beside him and huddle close to his form. Johnny wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer and resting his chin on her head. She buried her face in his neck and slipped her hands inside his coat to wrap around his waist, still shivering.

There was a silence that settled between them. Johnny rubbed soothing circles on her back that made her drowsy, the early hours of the morning making its impact.

She was by no means a morning person, never would be. Johnny loved waking up early and had the disgusting notion that going outside at the time was a good idea. It was only her unfaltering love for him that led her to humour such perceptions at all. 

When her hands felt warm enough, she retreated them to pick up his hand that rested on her thigh, toying with the fingers.

“Are you still cold?” He mumbled into her hair.

“No.” She mumbled back.

“Should I let you go?” He lifted his head.

“No.”

Johnny laughed, putting his cheek against her temple and squeezing her frame. She smiled at his fingers.

“Just wait till I take you home for christmas.” He chuckled to himself. "If you think this is cold you aren't prepared for December in Illinois." There was an excitement in his voice that was infectious every time he talked about going home.

“Your mom said she would wrap me in five blankets. She also promised to intervene when you have any brilliant ideas that involve outdoor activities.”

Johnny’s laugh reverberated in his chest. She smiled when she felt the vibration of it, moving to rest her head on his shoulder to hear it in earnest. Both of them sighed together.

“You’ve been cohorting with my mother to spoil my plans.” He hummed.

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, meeting his peaceful smile.

“She loves me. So she’s looking out for me.” (Y/N) scrunched her nose at him.

Johnny grinned, “I love you more.” He gave her a mock pout.

“Very debatable if you want me to freeze in a midwest winter out in the wilderness, Johnny Suh.” She clicked her tongue, “Very debatable.” She shook her head. 

Johnny pulled her back into his embrace with a soft sigh, “Fine we’ll only see a few things. No hiking, I guess.” He clicked his tongue back.

She snorted, “You’re real cute if, after being with me for four and a half years, you believe I'll hike in any season. Aren’t you supposed to know me? The person who you claim is the love of your life?” She bit her lip, glad he couldn’t see her blush as she mentioned something he said in passing once.

“I do know you.” He pulled her back to face him, giving her a smile, “You would fuss about it the entire time, but you would go. And then when we got there, you’d be quiet because the view would be worth it. And then fuss again when you remember that you have to walk back.” He raised a brow, as if questioning if he was accurate.

“Damn.” She mumbled, “You do know me.” She conceded.

“Love of my life.” He repeated the words, gloating.

She reached out and put her fingers on his cheek. The now warm fingers tingling against his cold skin. “You really are, you know? I don’t say it enough, but you really are.” She gave him a tender smile.

“I know.” Johnny kissed her forehead, “You’re always saying it, just not in words.” He mumbled against her head.

“Yeah?” She laughed at the words, “What does that mean?” She questioned.

The food arrived, cutting the conversation short. Reluctantly, they pulled away from each other. She picked up a bowl and put it in front of him first and then pulled the other one towards her.

Johnny smiled at the gesture, “Stuff like that.” He pointed at the bowls. “And how you wait for me to come home when I’m late." He smiled wistfully. "Even when you fall asleep. You wake up the moment I get in bed." He laughed to himself, "Or how you can tell how I’m feeling.” He threaded his fingers into hers, lifting her hand to leave a kiss. “I know.” 

She blinked at him, her cheeks turning more pink than they were from the cold before. She gave him a nod, turning her focus to her bowl. Johnny laughed, always finding pleasure in watching her be flustered. 

“This is good.” She sighed after taking her first bite. “That soup is so hot.” She groaned, the sound proof she was enjoying the food.

“Told you.” He shrugged.

“I’m sure the fact that it’s freezing outside helps make this steaming bowl feel more appetizing.” She noted.

“Exactly.” Johnny looked up with a serious expression, she snorted.

After finishing the entire bowl of noodle soup, she felt sufficiently warmed from inside out.

“Fuck, that was nice.” She groaned.

“You know, when we have kids, you’ll have to do something about the swearing.” Johnny hummed thoughtfully.

She turned to him, looking as stunned as she probably felt. They had talked about this a few times before, as casually and Johnny mentioned most serious things.

As casually as he mentioned it now. 

She knew him, she knew it was because she was in the business of worrying too much about most things. He did it to dissipate some of that and she was always grateful for it. It was little things like this with him, from the very start.

But there was a brimming anticipation in his eyes, one that felt new and made her heart beat a little faster. It also reminded her that she had been silent for a moment too long.

“I’ll learn when they’re still infants. They say you’re never prepared for parenting, that you learn as you go.” She shrugged. Johnny gave her a smile, one of hope and possibilities.

“Want to eat anything else?” Johnny changed the topic.

She gave him a sheepish nod, “Egg tarts.”

Johnny checked his watch, “Yeah I think the bakery will open in a bit. We can go.”

They stood outside the bakery for fifteen minutes now, every exposed part freezing from the crisp early morning wind from the nearby East River. Johnny rubbed her fingers occasionally inside his coat pockets as they stood close together.

The city had just started waking up, the first sign of dawn clear in the skies. Vendors passed by around them, the sound of life waking up slowly filling the air and making the cold feel less treacherous.

Johnny gave her a sympathetic smile, “I thought the bakery opened at 5:30.” He said apologetically.

“It’s fine.” She dismissed, taking her hands out of his pockets to slip under his coat. “Egg tart was my idea. Plus,” She stepped closer to him, hands snaking around his waist. “The cold isn’t so bad with you to warm me up.” He kissed the tip of her nose, putting his own hands on her waist.

“Hmm?” Johnny smiled. The shutter of the bakery finally drew open, the sudden metallic clang shocking them both. When a person walked up to the window to take their order, he asked for an egg tart each.

“I’m considering this cold practice for your midwest hikes.” She told him while they waited. Johnny turned to give her such a happy smile at the words that she laughed, hugging him again. “You’re so cute sometimes, Johnny. She scrunched her nose. “I love you.” She mumbled.

The man at the bakery window tapped the glass, making Johnny move to grab their order. He handed her one warm egg tart. He saw her eyes light up as he handed her the steaming tart, a bright smile settling on her lips. It made his heart pick up in pace.

“Marry me, (Y/N).”

She looked up, mouth open as she was about to bite her tart. For a second, both of them stared at each other in shock. Like neither of them expected to say or hear those words at the moment. The tart fell out of her hand, falling face first on the sidewalk. Johnny’s eyes went wide as he looked down at it.

“Shit.” She mumbled, crouching down to pick up the ruined tart. Her arms shook as she tried to lift the pieces with the tissue it came with, her eyes suddenly blurring. “Fuck.” She mumbled, her voice wavering this time. She held the desecrated tart in one hand, bits of it still on the pavement. The other hand she put on her face.

Johnny crouched down in front of her, bending his head lower to try to see her face with a short chuckle.

“Did you have to do this in Chinatown at 6 am?” She whined, hand still on her eyes. She was clearly weeping now, soft sobs filling the air. Johnny laughed, the sound making her remove her hand to frown at him. “I’m being serious right now.” She sniffed, nose red and eyes glossy.

“So am I.” He put both arms on her shoulder, lifting her up with him. “Who cares where we are?” He took the crumbled desert from her hand and walked over to a bin, tossing it while she stifled soft sobs.

When he came back, he put his palms on her cheek. “I’m not proposing. Not yet.” He tried to reassure, “I’m asking you if you want to. It didn���t feel right to just go all out without giving you a warning.” He wiped her tears with his thumb, squeezing her face. “I love you, (Y/N). I have for almost half a decade now. I’ll love you for at least ten more. Do you think you could be married to me?” His eyes looked at her with soft expectation.

Another sob racked through her, her face squinting. “Why are you crying?” Johnny laughed.

“Because I love you, you idiot.” She hit his chest.

“What a wretched thing to do, call me an idiot while I’m asking you to spend your life with me.” Johnny clicked his tongue in jest.

She groaned, “You're so exasperating.” She put both her hands on his chest. "Who else am I going to spend my life with?"

_

The elevator dinged open making her sigh. “I’m so tired. I hate Wednesdays.” She groaned, releasing her hair from the ponytail it was in all day. She slowly massaged her scalp to ease the roots, “Thanks for picking me up.” She spoke to Johnny.

He hummed, “Anytime.” His voice was distracted, she blamed the long day. He was distracted all evening, picking her up and taking her to dinner midweek. She wondered which of his clients it was that was giving him a hard time this week.

“I want a long bath.” She pictured it, smiling at the thought. “A cup of that nice rose tea.” She sighed, still trying to ease her sore scalp. “And sleep.” She pouted.

Johnny laughed, “And where do I fit into that? Shouldn’t you be a little more considerate towards your designated driver?” He turned to face her, dropping his bag on the floor.

“What makes you think I’m taking a bath alone?” She gave him a wink that turned into a blink because of how tired her eyes were. He scoffed, giving her a hum.

“Did something happen? You seem very tense.” She questioned.

“Nothing.” He said too soon, chewing on his bottom lip.

“You can tell me, you know. Unless you’re legally obliged not to. In which case you can change the names and places and tell me.” She reached her hand out to hold his tie, brushing it a few times, realising that it was one she gave him. Even the clip that held it together was the one she gave him as a joke, her initials on it. She didn’t have to look to know that he was wearing the cufflinks that came with it. It made her smile, looking up at him. “What’s up?” She asked softly.

He groaned, the sound soft. He reached out to bring her closer to him, “I was really thinking of so many places I could do this.” He kissed her forehead. “But the elevator just has to be it, doesn’t it? I remember your face so clearly from that night.” He breathed a chuckle out.

She furrowed her brows at him, “Can we not let this go? It’s been five years!” She huffed.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It is hands down the best anecdote I have.” He paused, his eyes turning from it's soft humour to something more intense. She felt his heartbeat pick up under her palm, it made hers pick up right with him.

“Johnny.” She whispered, eyes growing a little bigger.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He pushed her hair back from her face, “The way you tease me for being afraid of ghosts," She smiled at the words, eyes fluttering shut as they did whenever he ran his fingers through her hair, "How you hate people before 9am.” He smiled, “How your eyes glow when you talk about random things about which you have more knowledge than you should.” She scoffed, making Johnny grin. “The way you know every little part of me.” He sighed. “You’re perfect. And I’m so madly in love with you.” He took a step back, turning back to press the elevator’s emergency stop button.

“That’s illegal.” She stared at him.

Johnny bit his lip, failing to curb his smile. “Shut up.” She put her hands on her cheeks and nodded, taking a nervous breath.

When he bent down on his knee she put a hand on her mouth. “Are you actually going to cry again?” Johnny laughed, reaching into his pocket to take out a small box.

She shook her head and lifted her hand from her lips, “No." Her voice wavered, "I’m just picturing the security guard at his desk watching this from the camera. I’m embarrassed for you.” She groaned.

Johnny scoffed, “Marry me.”

“You really are very embarrassing.” She blinked the tears out of her face. “Imagine being legally bound to you.” She wiped her eyes. “Does this mean I’m Mark’s mother now?” He looked up at her with disbelief, when he opened the box she gasped. “Oh my god.” She closed her eyes, more tears slipping out. “You’re actually doing this.” She nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay. You’re actually doing this.” She nodded with a little more force. Her lips quivered.

“Are you going to have a breakdown? Should I get up? If you say no I’m telling your mom.”

She took the box from his hand with a choked laugh, “No–” He gasped immediately and she laughed, “Let me finish. No, I’m not saying no. Are you sure you want to do this? We’ll have to file so much paperwork.” She inhaled, staring at the ring.

“We’ll save so much on taxes though.” He hummed.

“Fair point.” She took the ring out of the box.

“No, I have to do that!” He said with indignation. She huffed, putting the ring back and handing him the box.

He took it with a frown, “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Will you or will you not marry me?” 

“Why does that sound like a threat?” When he whined she laughed. “Okay, okay!” She put her hands on his cheeks, squishing them together. “Of course I will. I want to have your long limbed children, get a piece of that fortune you’re saving." He scoffed, "I want to grow old with you.” She pouted when his eyes welled up. “If you cry I’ll actually break down.” She groaned. He blinked, looking down at her hands.

He slipped the ring into her finger, admiring the hand. “No take backs.” His voice was gentle.

“Remember that when I’m intolerable during our wedding. I plan on getting married once. It'll have to be perfect.” She hugged him so hard that he almost fell back.

Johnny laughed, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I plan on marrying once too. I don't want to share custody of Mark.” She buried her head in his neck. “I love you.” He whispered.

"I hate you for making me cry." She mumbled into his neck. "I love everything else about you. No take backs." She promised.

_

Send me an ask about a character from one of my fics in a scenario and I'll write a drabble.

Character from: Unintended Consequences

[childofaura]

Corri- I mean, Sencha.

I'm so sorry for the delay in answering this, I got absolutely swamped the past three days... But I'm back now!

And I'm gonna give my most hated, worst FEH artist opinion ever, so I'm gonna warn you guys again:

THESE ARTIST REVIEWS ARE VERY MUCH ONLY MY OPINION, DO NOT TAKE ANYTHING I SAY AS THOUGH I AM STATING A FACT.

Ok, now that that's out of the way, here we go:

I do not like Sencha's art.

That is not to say it is bad art. I simply do not like Sencha's art.

But before I get into my criticisms, let's talk about the positives of Sencha's artwork. Sencha's coloring. Is. Gorgeous. There's absolutely no doubt about the quality of Sencha's coloring skills. Their coloring gives very real depth to the character's space, as if they exist in 3D. And if you look at Corrin's hair in any of their portraits, you can tell that Sencha absolutely loves drawing hair, it looks and flows in such a lovely way. And the eyes are sparkly, while I don't think they stand out as much as Wada Sachiko's eyes, they are pretty. Their anatomy is also pretty much correct.

All right. That's everything positive. Now I'm gonna get into my criticisms, which ultimately boils down to why I don't like their artist.

Sencha, for the life of them, CANNOT DRAW FACES. They cannot draw varieties in facial builds, they cannot draw different facial expressions... they just. Cannot draw faces at all. They have been Corrin's artists since Summer Corrin and they have shown no sign of improvement on drawing faces.

Case in point, Fallen Corrin. Neutral face:

Attack face:

Critical face:

Damage face:

I know before with kaya8 I said I wasn't going to be talking about their lewd art history because we're talking about their FEH art, but I'm gonna break that rule here. Sencha's a hentai artist as well, and unfortunately unlike kaya8 who can draw appropriate (hear: "appropriate" as in fitting expressions, not as in PG rating art) artwork, Sencha's hentai history muddies what's supposed to be a corrupted Corrin.

REMEMBER THAT THIS IS WHAT WE GOT FROM ARGON FOR M!CORRIN:

And you can see examples of that in their other artwork with Corrin and others.

Dream Corrin's neutral:

Dream Corrin's damage portrait:

And then here's Bridal Tharja:

Bottom line is, Sencha's artwork has undeniable features of quality. But as someone who has only drawn pretty much the same character over and over while MAYBE getting one or two different characters, I want FEH to stop using Sencha for F!Corrin and pick other artists who have drawn a wider variety of female characters. Like Chiko, Pikomaru, Nishiki Areku... I'd also like to see RIZ3 draw Corrin because I LOVE how they drew Valentine's Lucina.

So in my opinion, Sencha's a 6/10. Realistically though? Probably an 8/10 in a general view.

[xhisokas-harleyx]

Your Hisoka headcanons were so good😭 and i completely agree with all of them- I wanted request something, u can ignore if u want. 🏃

I am just thinking of a scenario where Hisoka got hurt, by someone who 'cheated' in the fight maybe, and his first instinct was to go to his 'friend's place. And Reader helps him without hesitation, they're even worried and stuff. And he is just like "are they just so naive or dumb? Kind? What do they get from this? And tf is this feeling in my chest? A poison maybe-" Maybe hcs? Or an oneshot? Whatever you like to do. Have a good day or night!:)💛 damn i wrote too much lol sorry

This warms my heart. Thank you SO MUCH for your support!!! And no, you did not write too much! I love having my ego stroked ;) 😂 seriously tho I love hearing from you guys!

I love this prompt. I hope that I was able to bring this to life for you, please feel free to request more!

To be honest, I’m not really happy with how this turned out, but I haven’t written in a long time and feel really rusty. I may rewrite it at some point, because I thought of a different way this could also go! At any rate, I hope you enjoy it.

Word Count: 2880 (yeh, it’s a long one :o)

A little song inspiration I had:

As The World Caves In: Matt Maltese

Hisoka x Reader One-Shot: The Man Beneath the Monster

...

Well... this wasn't supposed to happen.

Currently, the jester of everyone's nightmares lay on the ground, golden eyes staring up at the dull night sky while shrapnel and debris etched patterns into his back, remnants of the attack he'd just barely survived. Hisoka didn't normally have much of a problem mowing through his opponents- but then again, they usually didn't possess the ability to play with their enemy's mind. It was insanely unfair, the way he'd been attacked, and while it had been an interesting battle to say the least, Hisoka had barely pulled through.

Admittedly, he was invigorated by the feeling of almost being beaten- save for the searing pain that inched its way through every nerve in his body. Hisoka wasn't usually so affected by pain in general- in fact, more often than not, it gave him a certain indescribable gratification. He tended to brush off the feeling of most wounds he obtained during battle, distracting himself with shuffling his cards or fantasizing about the next battle he'd be facing. Only this time, if he didn't get help, he wasn’t sure there would BE another battle.

Hisoka strained himself to sit up, and looked down at his body, analyzing just how much damage he'd sustained. A deep gash opened up his chest, revealing glimpses of the muscular content underneath, and it was oozing a lot of blood. His arms and legs were burned, and some of the skin was a little charred, which smelled just lovely against the night breeze.

This is going to be difficult to cover with Texture Surprise... he thought, forcing himself a bit angrily to his feet, when he heard the cracking of the joints in his left ankle, indications of a break. He needed medical attention, badly. His gash wasn't going to heal itself, and he would bleed to death within hours if it didn’t get bandaged.

But where could he go? Hospitals wouldn't dare take him- even though he was a hunter, most people wouldn't be caught within miles of him, let alone would provide him any remedy. In fact, most people thought the world would be better off if he were dead anyway.

Maybe they were right.

He chuckled a little at the thought, but as he tried to brush those creeping inner fears off, he soon realized that his normal detached approach wasn't going to work this time. Already, his legs were getting weaker, and his vision was getting a little darker by the second. In that moment of weakness, when he felt the most vulnerable, the magician was puzzled by the singular thought that came to his mind.

Y/N.

She was a girl he’d encountered more than a few times in his travels; not by accident, but through carefully orchestrated meetings he initiated himself. She was strong in his eyes, which was not a compliment that he offered freely, especially to someone who didn’t regularly seek out altercations to smash their enemies. She was strong in a different way- not because of her nen or battle tactics- but because of her resolve. He found it intriguing that she didn’t run at the sight of him (even when he popped up behind her in the park), and he liked that she wasn't afraid to tell him exactly where he could shove his cards, if warranted. Y/N was appealing to him in an indescribable way that made him continue to think up excuses to meet her ‘randomly’- but he could never put his finger on what it was that made her unique. However, through brief conversations and what he considered to be highlights of his travels, he’d gotten to know her only a little, but he hardly had enough contact with her to call her a ‘friend’.

It wasn't like she had any special sort of healing nen. She probably couldn't help him anyway. But if he did bleed out, and his last thought had to be of something...l it might as well be of her.

The pink-haired clown looked to the city up ahead in the distance- he was close to her house already. It didn't take him long to get there; Y/N lived on the outskirts of town in a small place away from most other homes.

It was a place he knew well, although he'd never been inside. He'd spent more than a few long nights watching the residence from the rooftop of a distant neighboring home as he denied his human emotions. He often watched her pack groceries, or try to figure out why her porch light wasn't working (which he certainly had nothing to do with), or watch TV on the couch all alone.

Hisoka quite liked those stupid romantic comedies that played late at night on the local channel. His only opportunity to watch them was through her window- and in his mind, he was sure that she left the subtitles on because she can somehow sense his presence. She usually fell asleep watching those, and missed the part where the hero gets the girl. He always watched that part with particular interest, but he can't figure out what makes the protagonists so special to each other. If there was a feeling that caused them to sacrifice so much for one another… he sure didn’t know what it could be.

But he's not a hero, so why would he know what that feels like?

As Hisoka reached her door and lifted his hand to the doorknob, not bothering to knock, a pang of what could only be anxiety ripped through him. It was well past 2 AM, and he knew she had things to do early in the morning. Their previous encounters had been abnormal, to say the least, complete with him teasing her and being a douchebag. He's been nothing but an annoyance to Y/N, so why would she help him?

As soon as he was about to pull his hand away, the door swung open, revealing a disheveled looking y/n in its place. Hisoka was bent over in pain, holding his chest, but as she startled him a little, he straightened up and put on his mask, acting complacent and confident. He wanted to say something smart and witty like he always does- that always helped to bat the pain away. But his lips wouldn't move- his tongue wouldn't function as he stared at her, unable to reach out in a way that normal humans seem to find so easy.

He felt frozen in that moment. He was normally so deliberately irreverent, but seeing the look on her face made his blood run cold.

Don’t let her see this weakness. It was a plea to himself.

But Hisoka had no choice. He was broken, and he needed her to fix him. He wasn’t used to depending on someone else to save his life, but now his life rested in the hands of someone who most likely despised him.

"...Hisoka." Y/N breathed, her eyes widening as she placed a hand over her open mouth. Only seconds passed before her delicate hands were pulling him inside the door without hesitation. She didn't bother to ask what happened, what kind of trouble he'd gotten into, or whether she would also be in danger. Instead, she sat him down on the couch, laying a pillow under his head for comfort, which he annoyingly refused to use until he absolutely couldn’t hold his head up any longer.

Hisoka was a bit dazed from the loss of blood, and the crimson river was flowing all over y/n's lightly colored couch. He was puzzled by the swiftness of her reaction, and he watched tepidly as she shuffled frantically through the drawers in the bathroom for something to heal him. Though he was on the brink of death, his default deflection of emotions still shone through, a reflex that he didn’t even mean to activate.

“I don’t need your help, you know.” He said with an impudent grin, watching as she began to work on his wounds. “It’s just a scratch. But I can see how badly you want to touch me…” Why was he like this? Here she was, giving up everything to help him (a criminal and the scum of the Earth),yet he can’t so much as even show her an iota of gratitude. He knows, but will never admit that it comes from his inner vulnerability; that fear of getting hurt by these things called emotions. She could just as easily let him bleed to death in front of her; he knows she has the capability to be stone cold. But she won’t… why?

Why?

Y/N could have easily let Hisoka’s false complacency hurt her. But she knows that what he cannot express in his words, his heart cannot truly hide. It was the way he was built, she told herself, and she pushed on through his antics because she wanted to see him safe again. Through the laceration in his tough exterior, she could not only see the flesh beneath, but a glimpse of the man he tried to hide using the monster that he assumed everyone saw.

But she was different.

The jester was confused by her silence. Normally, she would have retorted at his smugness, but right now, she didn’t even seem concerned with it as she began to fumble with cleaning his wounds. The alcohol seared his flesh just as the emotions boiling within him burned his heart. Why would she ever care to help him when he’s been nothing but rude and degrading to her? Could it be that she really can see through the detached front and overbearing persona? Impossible, he’s spent years building that reputation!

Suddenly, he became enthralled with the way Y/N’s eyes focused on threading the needle to sew up his gash. The way that those fingertips danced over his pale skin made him jolt unexpectedly at her touch, exhibiting a softness that Hisoka has never known before. In fact, he can’t even fathom someone wanting to touch him without the intention to hurt him in some way.

The details slowly became a blur in his depressed mental state- but he still analyzed every motion Y/N made.

Oddly, the promised sting of death had never scared Hisoka before; he did as he pleased, without care for his own life nor anyone else’s. But as his vision faded, and he watched her through the gaze of someone nearing death, he realized that he did not want to leave this world yet. He wanted to live- and maybe he wanted to discover and experience what he’d been missing in those movies he’d watched through her window.

With that, Hisoka’s heart began to beat faster.

Blood loss. That’s what it is… Hisoka thought; but he wasn’t stupid; only unwilling to admit that he was beginning to exhibit the same qualities he saw in the protagonists of those hopeless romantic flicks. He was unable to accept that the tightening in his chest was not just because of her stitches pulling his lacerated skin together.

“Are they dead? Did you kill them?” Her voice brought him out of the trance-like state he was in, and his golden eyes focused on her face. Her hands were covered in his blood (which in itself made him feel delightfully feverish), but his gash had been mended, the bleeding stopped for now. Once again, he didn’t say anything. It was unusual for the smug magician to keep his mouth shut.

“Because if you didn’t kill them, I’m going to.” A protective tone dripped into her voice, bewildering Hisoka again. That quality in her voice was both threatening and comforting, and the duality sent a chill up his spine. It inspired him to use his voice, though it had lost some of its signature modulation.

“You have that little faith in me…” A cough escaped his lips before he could smile as if nothing was bothering him at all. “Of course I killed them, my dear.” Somehow, calling her ‘dear’ no longer felt right; that was typically a placeholder, a default name to use for someone he had no connection with, and she seemed to be worthy of more than that now.

As Y/N suddenly dipped to her knees, Hisoka refrained from any lewd thoughts that he normally might have had in such a situation. That sensation in his chest was too distracting to allow this memory to be defiled with something he often indulged in fantasies of. She began to slide the high-heeled shoe off of his swollen foot to wrap it. She began to struggle with ripping the fabric she’d gathered to act as a cast for the bone.

Surely, she knows who I am. Why would she bother to help someone like me? What is she gaining? She knows that with the flip of a card, I could end her life. She’s not even protecting herself in any way. She’s leaving her guard down right in front of me.

Perhaps it was his dark desire to set fear into everyone he came across, or his distorted need to drive away anyone who might care for him, but his body suddenly acted on its own. By instinct, almost as if it were a test of her intention, a card spawned between his middle and index finger, which was right against her neck. With just a slight movement of his knuckles, he could spill her blood. His golden eyes analyzed the way she froze for a moment, and he believed that to be the end of this fragile trust between them. That was until she lifted the fabric she was holding, sliding it along the edge of the card, and cutting it to the perfect length.

“Thanks.” She spoke, beginning to wrap and set the ankle in place.

At that small motion, Hisoka’s discretionary eyes widened, and his lips fell open in surprise. Rather than interpreting his advance as an attack, she’d innocently taken it as an offer of his help. Was this a joke? Was she stupid enough to trust him, or was she bold enough to outsmart his games? Was Y/N this confident that he wouldn’t just kill her? This naive girl at his feet seemed to be the only person in this convoluted world who didn’t see him as a disgusting, heartless monster… and that warmed his icy heart.

“I’m surprised this hasn’t happened before. I know you’re graceful, but high heels are always a recipe for a broken ankle.” She offset the pain of wrapping those bones by talking to him all through the procedure, and it worked wonders. He scoffed, but by that time, Hisoka’s snide comments and emotion-killing thoughts had been expended. Somehow, she’d broken through the barrier that he’d spent so long building around himself.

Unable to ignore his whims anymore, Hisoka reached out to touch Y/N’s hair, the soft delicate strands pleasing his senses. It’s the only movement he can make now, his body weakened from the loss of blood. His gilded eyes were barely open, but they looked directly into hers with an unfamiliar realization. His hand travelled weakly down her face, caressing her cheek with the most delicate touch he could muster, and held her head in his large hand as she froze there. He wondered for a moment if she was afraid, or if something deeper that he cannot see calms her.

A small, genuine smile is all he could muster for her before his hand dropped to the side of the couch, the same couch he watched her curl up on most nights. For once, it’s not a smirk, and it’s not a smug smile- but something she has never seen before- a true smile with good intention behind it. His eyes closed, with uncertainty that they would open in the morning.

After she’d finished her work, she stood up, and looked down at him. The only remaining light in the room was the silent flicker of the television set in the background, which illuminated both of their faces.

“I need you to be alright, Hisoka,” She cooed, unable to know if he could still hear her. He didn’t know if she even realized how much he wanted to kill her right now, because the way her kindness was attacking his heart while his chest was already sliced open was something he should not excuse.

As Y/N’s final healing gesture, she bent over his body gracefully. He was taken off guard when he felt the feathery soft sensation of her lips on his forehead, the kiss of an angel on his clammy skin. As she went to pull away, however, she was startled by the lunge of Hisoka’s hand initiating a death grip on her wrist. He used the last bit of his strength to pull her lips into his, causing her to lose balance and be forced to brace on either side of the couch cushion below him. His lips were cold, but Y/N graciously returned the sensation, and boldly moved to embrace both sides of his face with her mending hands. Before she pulled away, and he passed out, she felt that same smile against her lips.

And in that moment, before he fades away, Hisoka realizes what he’s been missing.

Y/N.

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

Hmm... part two? I KNOW, it’s super freakin’ sappy. I could have taken a lighthearted approach to this (and maybe I will later), but I wanted to kind of challenge myself to write a more depth-driven version of Hisoka. Maybe I bit off a little more than I can chew :0.

Anyway, let me know what you think, and once again thanks to anon for the request! Hope you all enjoyed!

Mac

[dracowars]

Hiii can I request an imagine where Draco and the reader are old now and they work together (healers,maybe) but Draco used to bully her and be rude to her during Hogwarts years but she’s like this total badass now and he apologizes to her .

heal me | draco malfoy

pairing: healer!draco x healer!reader

word count: 2,7k

summary: where y/n has to work with the person she hates the most

a/n: paragraphs completely written in italics are flashbacks! i hope you enjoy it <3

warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of blood

universe: harry potter

"Don't worry. Tomorrow everything will be fine again", you explain to the younger patient and his parents while taking notes on your clipboard. "Thank you for helping our son", his parents thank you before you get up and leave the room with them, the little boy already much happier than a few minutes ago when his parents brought him here.

At the reception they wave their goodbyes at you and you have a short chat with one of the assistants before you make your way to the laboratory where you have to get new Skele-Gro. Entering the laboratory you immediately go to one of the cupboards in which all kinds of potions and medicines are located and search for the Skele-Gro.

At first you do not even notice that you are not alone in the room and quietly swear to yourself when you just cannot find the medicine. A low chuckle sounds to your right and you flinch in shock, turning around only to see the one person you actually prefer to avoid at all times.

Draco Malfoy.

The son of one of the richest and most influential pure-blood families, the Malfoys, the biggest asshole at Hogwarts back then and now unfortunarely also your colleague at the St.-Mungo-Hospital.

On your first day here you were so happy to finally be able to fulfill your dream and leave your past behind you. You were finally away from Hogwarts, the place where so many terrible things happened and you could finally live a normal wizard's life. At least that is what you thought.

Until the very moment you ran into Draco on your first day. And not as a patient, no. He was also dressed in the green smock with the sewn on crest of a crossed wand and bone. The one boy that made your life at Hogwarts a living hell every single day was also working as a healer now. Just like you.

Rolling your eyes, you turn away from him and continue searching for your potion, ignoring the fact that you have to endure his presence. "Can I somehow help you?", his voice suddenly sounds close to your ear and you let out a startled gasp. "No, thank you. I do not need your help. I can manage this quite well on my own", you hiss at him, giving him a look that could kill. His hands shoot up in the air in defense and he takes a step back. "Okay, okay! No need to snap at me like that", he claims offendedly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Nevertheless you notice his gaze on you while you keep searching around in the cupboard and you begin to feel really uncomfortable. Why can't he just leave you alone? You have been working at the hospital together for several months and until now you kept your conversations to a certain extent only if it was related to your work. But otherwise you do not exchange a word with him. Because you do not need or want to.

"What?", you scoff, turning around to face him again, a slick smirk on his lips that makes the blood in your veins boil. "Nothing", he shrugs nonchalantly, keeping his gaze focused on you. "Do you not have anything better to do than annoy me, Malfoy? Do you not need to rescue some lifes?", you confront him, keeping your posture as you give him your most annoyed expression.

"I have my break right now."

"And then you sneak around in the laboratory?"

"Yeah."

"What about you leave me alone and let me do my work?"

"What about no?"

"Merlin, you are annoying the hell out of me right now", you sigh while massaging your temples with your fingertips.

"Sorry that I am alive", he replys with a shake of his head, causing you to stop what you are doing in an instant. Alive.

"You are a shame to Hogwarts, Y/L/N", his evil laugh rings in your ears as he forces you onto the ground, your books all over the cold floor. His goons kick them further through the corridor, destroying most of the books that your family spent so much money on. Quickly you get up on your feet again, your knees shaking in fear.

"Leave me alone!", you furiously yell at them which is why they pause for a moment before starting to laugh out loud. "Why are you even on this school if you are not even able to protect yourself, Y/N? No, wait. Let me put it differently. Why are you even alive?", he giggles and his friends join in, pointing their disgusting fingers at you in amusement.

Tears start pricking in your eyes as they keep laughing at you. Completely alone you just stand there and let them have their fun, your head hanging low. Draco withdraws his wand out of his pocket and points it onto one of your books. "Incendio", he conjures and your beloved book immediately catches on fire.

"You will be sorry for that!"

"Uhm, hello? Y/N? Are you still there?", Draco waves his hand in front of your face and you blink a few times before slapping his hand away angrily. "Get away from me!", you tell him off and bring distance between both of you. With a confused expression on his face, he looks at you as if you have gone completely crazy. "Bad day?", he asks, wanting to seem sorry for you. He did not feel sorry for you. Not now, not then, never.

"I do not have a bad day. I just hate you profoundly and do not want you in my life, Malfoy", you explain with no emotion in your voice and shut the cupboard close loudly, making him flinch. With these last words you leave the room, even though you did not succeed in finding the potion, and slam the door shut behind you. Why are you the one being punished again?

Taking a long deep breath, you look down the empty corridors, straighten your uniform and set off to pursue your job. The one and only thing that can distract you now. Unfortunately, you do not get very far, not even out of the corridor, when you abruptly feel a firm grip on your wrist and get pulled back roughly. "Y/N! Wait-"

"What the hell, Draco?!", you yell and only get angrier when he does not let go of you and you have to free your hand from his grip. "What do you want from me?! Have you not done enough damage already?", you angrily bark at him, but he just sadly looks down at his feet. He lets you shout at him how much you want without uttering a single word. You stand in front of him, angry and breathing heavily. He has never seen you like this before.

For him you always seemed so strong and invulnerable, but now he sees your real self and how much he and his actions broke you. He has been watching you for all these months and how you thrive in your job as a healer. You were so strong and helpful and kind. He made many mistakes back at Hogwarts and he perfectly knows it. But he had enough time to rethink what he has done. The guilt has eaten him up as he never had the opportunity to apologize.

Yes, he did terrible things. He not only bullied a lot of students, but also doomed the headmaster to death and had to join the Death Eaters. Something he never wanted to. Just as he did not want you to hate him this much. He cannot explain why he did what he did when he actually liked you back then and probably still does. He loved how you would always run around with your books, how you would twirl a strand of hair around your finger when you were concentrating in potions or how you would speak up to tell the teachers every answer.

He knows what he did was wrong. But he lacks the words and also the courage to explain it to you. You would not understand him anyway and would loathe him even more.

"We are grown up now, Y/N. Can we not just forget what happened?", Draco pleads, but your reaction immediately makes him realize that he has chosen the absolute wrong words.

"Oh, so that is how it works for you Malfoys, huh? Great, when you are that grown up as you say, then why don't you just act like that and keep your distance from me, you damn asshole!", you scream out loudly and at this point you do not even care anymore if anyone else hears you. This man just makes you so incredibly angry when he thinks everything can be clarified with a few words.

"Listen to me, Y/N", Draco tries again, but you shake your head in disbelief. "You know what? I really thought I could not hate you any more. But I was wrong", you huff, turning around on your heel to finally get rid of him.

"I let you yell at me, why don't you let me explain it?", he desperately reminds you, his eyes basically begging you to give him a chance. "Do you really think that you can ever make amends for what you have do-", you start scolding him again, but get interrupted all of a sudden when you hear a very loud noise. The noise that an emergency patient has just been delivered.

Without wasting time you sprint off and towards the energency room, Draco following closely behind you. You spot how a man is being pushed through the corridor on a lounger in front of you right away and quickly run there to help.

"Oh! Good that you are here, Y/N!"

"What happened?"

"Serious Quidditch accident. He was badly battered by a bludger. Several broken bones and high blood loss."

"Take him to the treatment room immediately!", you command and you bring the injured player there together. Groaning in pain you lift him onto the hospital bed and you do everything possible to put an end to his pain. "Quick! We need some Calming Draught", you state and look around, but only a few seconds after your utterance the potion you asked for is already laid in your hand by no other than Draco, who has apparently thought ahead. You quietly thank him under your breath and give the patient the medicine so that he calms down.

Injuries in the wizarding world are often quick to heal, but there is still a lot of pain associated with them. That is why you do everything to make your patients feel better as fast as possible. "We should stop the bleeding from his wounds", Draco suggests while you are busy pulling out your wand.

"We need Blood-Replenishing Potion", you say at the exact same time as Draco and look at each other a little bit shocked. You turn back to the patient and continue to calm him down. You point the tip of your wand at his torso and cast a spell to to mend his broken bones.

"Brackium Emendo", you mumble and the spell works instantly, taking away most of the patient's pain. Just to be on the safe side, you also use Ferula to spare his newly generated bones while Draco is already holding out the Blood-Replenishing Potion to you. You take it and use it on the man, the other healers at your side to explain the next steps to the poor man.

After you have successfully healed him, you leave the room and let the other healers take care of the rest. Treating an emergency patient is always exciting but scary because you never know what to expect.

And what you also did not expect is that Draco follows you again and stops you by shouting your name. You heavily exhale and collect your thoughts before you turn to face him. "What is it now?", you ask, visibly annoyed.

"You did a really good job back there", he smiles, pointing behind him to the room you just left. Suspiciously, you look at him and raise your eyebrow. Then you sigh, putting your hands on your hips.

"Thanks. You were not bad either", you compliment him which he seems to be quite surprised about because his eyes widen for a moment. He smiles uncertainly to show you his gratitude and then scratches his neck in embarrassment. "So.. About earlier.."

"Draco. I really do not want to hear anything about it anymore."

"Please, Y/N. Just give me this one chance. At least let me explain! Afterwards you can still hate me as much you want to", he persuades you intensely.

"You have five minutes", you finally give in and drag him into an empty corridor to prevent anyone else hearing you. "I am listening."

"I know my behavior was wrong back then and I want to deeply apologize to you for that. It was not okay to destroy your supplies, to make fun of you, or to harm you physically and mentally. I just- I did not know how to deal with my.. feelings and the best way to get rid of those wrong feelings seemed to be to bully you. I have done terrible things, Y/N. And yet this is the reason why I cannot sleep at night. Because I am so sorry for everything and I know that you will never forgive me", he explains to you honestly, in a heartbreaking voice and although you try your best to fight against it, tears brimming into your eyes.

"I was in love with you, Y/N. Well, I still am", Draco suddenly admits and you could swear that - against your will and common sense - your heart just stopped beating for a moment.

Because what Draco does not know is that you actually had feelings for him as well. But that was before he even started any of this, when he was still watching you across the Great Hall and you would catch him staring. From one day to another he destroyed your hopes and suddenly started bullying you. It got worse day by day until your feelings for him turned from love to pure hate.

You loved each other, but one did not know about the other's mutual feeling and vice versa. And so two people hurt each other even though they were in love.

"D-Draco- I don't know what to say", you stutter out and do not dare to look at him, in fear that you will give in immediately.

"You do not have to say anything. Thank you for listening to me. I am sorry", he softly smiles, a comforting and especially real one, and lowers his head in defeat.

"It is really not easy for me either, Draco", you sigh, blinking your tears away. "I am not sure if I can ever forget what you did to me."

Draco nods dejectedly, understanding and accepting your decision. After all, he cannot forgive himself for what he did either.

"But I am ready to forgive you", you add and Draco's head shoots up immediately, locking eyes with you, not sure if he heard you correctly. "As you said: we have grown up and that means we can also learn to forgive", you give him a gentle smile.

A big and thankful smile spreads over his facial features. "I love you so much, Y/N. No- Not like that.. Well actually..", he babbles to himself. You gently put your hand on his shoulder to calm him down a bit, suppressing a giggle.

"Don't worry. I will see you later, alright?", you grin and and pat his shoulder softly.

"Y-Yes! Of course", he answers, not quite sure what to do with himself. He feels such an incredible joy inside of him, but just as strongly he feels fear. The fear that he might screw it up again.

While he is still deep in thought, you walk backwards and away from him. When he notices that you are retreating, he briefly shakes his head to get back to the here and now. "Thank you!", he calls after you, unable to move.

"See you later", you wave before you turn around and disappear into the next corridor, your heart almost jumping out of your chest.

Maybe this is the beginning of something new, of something more. The next chapter in your life.

A restart.