#anyways so as were talking about things she could talk to her kids about i brought up a video is saw a while back

[effieotto]

Random Hunger Games headcanon

•Haymitch liked to trace the lines of Effie’s face when they were in bed to keep her in memory, because he loved her features and usually couldn’t see them properly when she was all caked up

•Katniss and Peeta had a hard time deciding which of their last names they would choose for their children. Because even though she knew that hers hold too much weight, for being forever associated with the mockingjay -and she didn’t want their kids to be associated with everything she once meant- It also represented the name shared between her, her Father and Prim, and she didn’t want to erase their memory from such a important thing in her life. So later on, Peeta suggested for them to use both of their names (Mellark-Everdeen) so the kids could decide which they would use when they got older

•When his rage had settled down and the Hummingbird Operation (along with everything else he had done during the war) had finally sink, Gale had a very ugly breakdown, while they waited for Katniss’s trial, and Haymitch was the one to pick him back up. The boy sobbed on Haymitch’s shoulder and he decided to, for once in his life, be the father the boy never had and help him through it all

•Effie Trinket had a bunny (i won’t go further, but she looks like the bunny type. So yeah, after the war she had a white fluffy bunny called Daise)

•Annie knew all those things about Gale when she wrote the letter for Katniss because, after the war, him and Johanna developed a close enough relationship and she had those informations by overhearing their conversations sometimes

•Haymitch resented Katniss a little for how blunted she had been when she asked for him to take Peeta’s place when the announcement from the Quell came out (even if he had been the one to offer it, he wished she had at least hesitated a little bit before throwing him to the wolves), and even though he had never (and would never, for countless reasons) tell her that, he always carried the feeling that she didn’t care for him as much as he cared for her, and the coldness of it hurt him badly….even if it wasn’t exactly true.

•Effie felt uneasy every time she went out with Katniss and Peeta’s daughter and a man talked to her too softly, because as much as she knew District Twelve’s citizens were warmer and that she wasn’t in the Capitol anymore, she couldn’t shake the memory of how the men usually talked to her when she was the same age, and as irrational as it goes, she didn’t want anything like what they did to her back then to happen with that little girl. So, not so politely, she would excuse them and nudge the girl to walk faster every time she gave too much attention for them

• When he got his recess from the Peacekeeper job, Gale went to District four and he and Johanna went out every Friday night to drink their sorrows away and find a easy fuck to each other -which wasn’t really an easy doing, because Gale was too shy and Johanna was too picky, but they had fun anyway-

•Even though Haymitch never enjoyed to leave District Twelve for long, he had managed to get involved in a handful of political activities for the new Panem, since President Paylor had finally decided to have some use of his limited political knowledge and strategies to help the government and the country back to its feet, with as much peace possible. He traveled once or twice per year through the Districts to help the new President with small social programs

[adieutristana]

AHH UR WRITING EATS UP EVERY TIME🙏🔥🔥

anyways, low-key inspired by your Jinx-ring fix and got an idea. Reader makes jewlery for fun and her, Jinx and Isha all have some kind of matching jewelry w/ a little hex-jem in it

-thank youuu (take ur time n take care of yourself honey💜)

of course! thank you for the request <3

thank you for the kind words! also this request kind of reminded me of those dora and disney princess kid rings that used to be everywhere in the 2000s? i loved those please tell me i'm not crazy and you guys know what i'm talking about.

summary; reader makes matching rings for herself, jinx, and isha.

characters included; jinx, isha (platonic/familial)

tags/warnings; fluff, domestic, welder/jeweler!reader, mother/mother/daughter dynamic, i can't rly think of anything else

men dni.

"stay still."

you murmur, holding a thin strip of paper around jinx's right ring finger. you wrap it around once, using one of jinx's blue markers to mark just a millimeter below where the paper should end. just for safety, you think. jinx's gaze is fixed on you, before you straighten up and write 'J' on the remainder of the white strip.

“got me all measured now?”

“mhm. thanks, babe.” you smile, squeezing one of your girlfriend’s shoulders.

you'd told her what you were up to. you were an apprentice under one of the undercity's only jewelers, welding jewelry by hand and making custom orders for loyal patrons. wedding bands, engagement rings, promise rings, pendants, chains, charm bracelets- you'd done it all.

since taking in isha, once just a scared little girl in the lanes who insisted on hanging off jinx's pant leg, your life had changed for the better. you'd already been pretty satisfied with the state of things. you had a stable job, you loved your craft, you had a beautiful and loving girlfriend by your side. all of this combined was more than enough to keep you happy, but at the most unexpected of times, this girl had come into your life.

she was afraid, having seen firsthand the rigidity of zaun and just how violent things could become; especially in the climate of recent days. but she was also sweet, and both you and jinx could tell that she just needed someone to love her. communicate with her, play with her, make her feel important. rather, two someones.

yet after taking her in, she’d grown so much. always such a playful kid, so curious about the world around her and so fascinated by both you and jinx. you’d had endless adventures together, filled with laughter and anticipation. a kid-friendly version of jinx’s usual mayhem. though you’d also share quiet mornings together, when isha wants to help you make breakfast or wants you to read from one of the children’s books jinx had stolen for her.

and now, you wanted to do something for the three of you. a marker of your status as a family, and something you know both jinx and isha would love. with jinx’s possessive nature, matching jewelry was an immediate ‘yes,’ and isha would be delighted to receive something so personalized. and to be able to match with her moms? that’s the cherry on top!

though, both you and jinx had agreed to keep it a surprise for the girl. the look on her face when she received her gift would be worth having to keep a secret (as difficult as that was for jinx).

“your turn, ish!”

you call out, a sound which is soon followed by the pitter-patter of little feet. isha looks up at you with wide, curious eyes, before you crouch down to her level and reach your hand out for one of hers.

“give me your hand.”

you hum, your tone instantly becoming softer in the presence of isha. she holds up both hands, looking at you as if to ask ‘which one?’ a smile tugs at your lips, and you let out a light chuckle.

“either one. just give me a hand.”

isha then puts down her right hand, giving you free access to her left. you gently take the girl's hand in yours and spread her fingers out, slotting another thin slip of paper in. she tilts her head curiously, but allows you to wrap the paper around her finger and mark it- this time with a yellow 'I.' upon releasing her hand, you look up at the girl before you to be greeted by furrowed brows. a low laugh escapes you.

"it's a surprise, kid. you'll know soon enough, okay?"

isha frowns, looking over to jinx for some kind of backup or clue as to what you're finding, though she just shrugs in her chair.

"sorry, isha. this one-" she points her index finger at you. "made me promise not to tell."

the girl lets out a low yet adorable groan, keeping her little arms crossed over her chest. you could almost give in upon seeing her bottom lip poking out lightly, her leaning on one leg, and those yellow eyes narrowed; but you had a surprise to keep. isha would know soon enough, and she'd love it.

✧.*

it was challenging to find time between clients, but within about three weeks, you'd finally managed to complete the set of rings.

the rings you'd made yourself and your girlfriend weren't difficult. but you'd never made a ring for a child before, and making a piece of jewelry fit for isha's fingers proved to be one of the most daunting tasks during your time as a jeweler. engraving it had proved to be even more difficult. but you'd managed, and you were damn proud of the final results.

your girlfriend and isha sit in front of you, looking at you with expectant eyes. you'd just told them that you had a surprise for them both, and guided them to sit on jinx's torn leather couch. jinx knows exactly what you're planning, trying (and failing) to look unassuming in front of isha.

"close your eyes and hold your hands out," you say with a smile, giving both girls knowing glances while they do what you've asked. isha's hands out in front of her while her wide eyes slip shut, jinx wearing a slight smirk. you step back and take a deep breath in, before reaching into your back right pocket to retrieve the rings. two matching silver bands, the metal clinking together quietly as you try to separate them in your hand.

you place the rings in their outstretched hands, before reaching into your left pocket to take your own out and slip it onto your finger.

"now... open."

both of their eyes slip open, and isha instantly gasps at the sight before her. jinx's eyes widen, immediately wearing a toothy grin. she turns the ring in her hand, looking at how the shiny silver catches in the light.

"look at that."

she gasps, turning the ring in her hand. jinx's ring holds a blue hex crystal, glowing even in the dim lighting of jinx's hideout. on one side of the crystal, a cursive engraving of the letter J, and a simplistic outline of a monkey on the other side. isha's own is similar, holding another hex crystal. an 'I' is engraved into her ring, a bunny on the other side to match it.

and your own, the same silver band and hex crystal adorning it. though this one is engraved with your initial, and the outline of a cat.

"you like it?" you ask, holding up your right hand for jinx to see. her smile returns, and isha is nodding frantically. it's adorable to see- her wide smile and the way her hair bounced up and down while nodding. she's so enthusiastic.

"it looks great, toots." she muses, "but i still think i could've done better. i have scrap metal and a blowtorch."

you lightly roll your eyes at jinx's quip, but turn to gauge isha's reaction. she's already put her ring on where she remembers you measuring her, marveling at the sight. she's switching between gasping whenever she notices a new detail, and smiling wide at the fact that you made this for her. the fact that they're all matching and personalized isn't lost on isha, and you can tell it makes it that much more special for the girl.

a far cry from the scared child jinx had brought home a few months prior, and this is exactly what makes your job worth it. not the acclaim, not the positive critics' reviews, not even the money (though that was always welcomed). the fact that you've made an impact on this kid by using your craft makes you only want to push more, strive to be greater. give her both something to remind her of your love, and a positive role model to look to.

she's finally able to close her mouth, giving a close-lipped smile and bring her hand to her chin to sign 'thank you.'

"you're welcome," you breathe out, before sitting yourself between jinx and isha on the couch. you reach an arm out for both of them to pull them into your sides. "those weren't easy to make, you know."

"so you've told me."

jinx replies, and you shake your head in mock resignation. isha, though, is pressing closer to you, one arm haphazardly wrapped around you while she continues to 'ooh' and 'aah' at her new jewelry.

"these feel so personal, you know." jinx murmurs, suddenly a bit more earnest. she's looking at her own ring herself, her gaze flitting between the glimmering hex crystal and you. "i mean, they are. they were made for us. but i don't know. it's... nice."

isha makes a 'hm' noise in agreement, jinx taking a deep breath.

"i like that it's just us. we're the only people in the world who have these rings, and we get to show them off. i think that's a pretty damn good selling point."

you hum, gently brushing your lips along the crook of jinx's neck before letting your head rest on jinx's shoulder. isha situates herself to lay across both yours and jinx's laps, her little hands folded over her stomach.

"it's like we're some kind of exclusive club."

jinx chuckles, coming to card her fingers through fluffy brown hair.

"or a family."

the girl pauses, her shoulders tensing for only a moment. a family. she'd never necessarily thought of it like that, having let go of the idea of ever having a family again long ago. but it's the perfect descriptor of your group without a doubt, and it feels like the right word to put to the moment you're having right now. her shoulders relax, a gentle smile gracing her features. isha reaches to squeeze one of jinx's hands in a show of silent support.

"...yeah. a family."

[gretagerwigsmuse]

“Now, this is more like it!” You gasp, beelining for the wall to look at them. Postcards of sandy beaches, snowy mountains, and everything in between. Pictures of a younger and current Bradley with whom you assumed were his fellow Navy buddies, smiling wide for the camera like he’s having the time of his life. A few more older photos of a woman and a man who looks just like Bradley with a kid who you assumed was Bradley. - this is SO cute! it really fits bradley too because this is something that he can easily move around with him, but still means so much in such a perfect way

She found out he’d been seeing another girl behind her back the whole time, kicked his ass to the curb, tipped Bradley off on the open spot in the complex, and Bradley swooped in to nab the place before the cheating son of a bitch could even blink. - why is this something i would do (i’ve done this to a lesser extent oops)

“And what do you think of me now?” He asks softly, settling his chin in the palm of his hand as he meets your gaze intently. There go your nerves again, swirling in the pit of your stomach like a whirlpool threatening to suck you in. - CHIN IN HIS PALM BIG COW EYES LOOKING BACK AT YOU 🥰

“I like that.” I like you, he wants to say. He doesn’t. - AHHHH BRADLEY 🤭 PLS

A broken thermostat meant going downtown for dinner and drinks at some new restaurant “just to try it out”, a leaky sink resulted in him guilting you into a Mission: Impossible marathon. - i like that they use the repairs in her apartment as an excuse to hang out, it’s so perfect

You give yourself a quick once over in your phone camera, smoothing down any flyaway hairs before hitting the answer call button. - so real, so me. but also him facetiming EVEN WHILE DEPLOYED!?!

Pretty. Bradley thinks you’re pretty. - this was SO CUTE AHHH

First he calls you pretty, now he’s calling you sweetheart. He’s getting bolder. You aren’t sure if that means he feels the same way about you, or if it’s just his personality. - girl bffr (i would think the same thing tho so i can’t really talk hehe)

“Five bucks it’s his girl from back home,” Payback chimes in, smirking knowingly. - HIS GIRL 🤭

You aren’t sure if you should hug him but you do anyway, wrapping your arms around his neck, breathing in his achingly familiar cologne. - i LOVE a hug like this

“Yeah. Thought maybe it’d be fun if I send you one of these every time I’m deployed and you could start your own wall. That way whenever I’m gone and you miss me, it’ll—I dunno…remind you I’m coming home?” He finishes awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. - STOP IT! this is so cute wow! also i really like how you incorporate bradley’s mannerisms like rubbing the back of his neck, scratching his cheek

“As much as I want to—y’know, and I do, can we just…have a quiet night? I wanna take things slow, make sure everything is perfect.” - he says with lip gloss on his cheeks!! ugh i’m swooning! this ending was very them and i think it’s perfect

sent and delivered

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

summary: after your scheduled coffee date with bradley, your friendship progresses into something more over time. (7k)

part 2 to return to sender

warnings: swearing, some use of Y/N

a/n: hello again my tgm family!! went a little overboard with this, but thank you to my sweet @familyvideostevie, who came up with this beautiful friends to lovers plotline for a part 2 literal ages ago, and the lovely @starryeyedstories for putting me in my rooster feels again <3

You shouldn’t be so nervous for coffee with Bradley as you are right now. You’ve already changed your outfit at least twice, sifted through your pantry for a suitable accompaniment to coffee so many times you’ve lost count, and as the clock ticks its way to noon, genuinely debated on making an excuse to bail. 

A few careful deep breaths clears your mind a little, reminds you that no, you aren’t going to bail on Bradley. You’re going to see this thing through if it’s the last thing you ever do, fight or flight response be damned. 

You’re a jumble of nerves as you finally make your way over to his apartment, just like the first time you met him.

Only this time it isn’t because you were afraid he was an asshole (you know now that he was the in fact opposite), but because your crush on him has grown tenfold just overnight. 

See, you’d spent a good chunk of the time you were meant to be asleep last night on the phone chatting with him about anything and everything, never a lull in the conversation until the sun started to peek through the curtains and the birds began their daily morning song.

He’d sounded sad when you announced you had to grab a few hours of shut eye, but murmured a soft see you later that had your heart thudding a little faster in your chest. 

Maybe you even buried your face in a pillow and squealed a little the moment you hung up, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

You knock on his door firmly, shifting the package of Oreos from hand to hand nervously as you wait. 

The door swings open to reveal a smiling Bradley, and suddenly all your worries seem to fade away. 

He’s wearing jeans and a well-fitting Hawaiian shirt this time, which would’ve looked tacky as hell on anyone else, but Bradley found a way to pull it off. He still looks way too damn good for someone who’d been up the whole night. 

“Hey!” He exclaims, beckoning you inside with a smile. You mirror his smile, but before you can return his greeting, he brings you into a hug. He smells of fresh laundry and sea breeze and something heady that you can’t quite put your finger on but like nonetheless. “Long time no talk.” 

You let out a huff of amusement. “Right, because seven hours is just such a long time.” 

“Sure felt like forever,” He replies, reaching around you to shut the door. His arm grazes against the small of your back as he does, a fleeting touch that still manages to make you shiver. Maybe Bradley notices, because he lets his hand linger for another second, expression shifting into something softer as he eases the cookies out of your hands. “This for me?” 

“Uh, yeah! I hope you like Oreos, ‘cause it’s really all I had,” You say sheepishly, folding your arms around yourself in an awkward attempt to seem normal. 

“I love Oreos. Thank you.” He bobs his head quickly. “Anyways, welcome, come on in, make yourself at home.”

Bradley’s apartment has the same layout as yours, but other than that it looks like a completely different place. 

While you’d decorated your space with all sorts of odds and ends, posters and paintings and a plethora of knick knacks adorning your shelves, Bradley’s is…kind of empty, save for a few sports posters and some workout gear scattered in the hallway leading to the bedroom. A piano sits over by the window that gives the place some character, but other than that it doesn’t really look like this is anyone’s home. 

It’s as if he feels you taking in your surroundings, because he chuckles awkwardly, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “It’s plain, I know. Definitely won’t be winning any awards for interior design.” 

“Oh, I dunno, the minimalistic look is really in these days,” You hum, shrugging nonchalantly. 

“You’re too nice to me. I’m not here a lot of the time, so I haven’t really done the whole ‘making it feel like home’ thing yet. I’ll get to it though.” He admits, kicking aside a lone pair of shorts. “Anyways, uh—forget this, why don’t we keep moving on into the kitchen?” 

The kitchen is much more interesting than the rest of the apartment, mainly the wall of postcards and photos next to the fridge that catch your eye immediately.

“Now, this is more like it!” You gasp, beelining for the wall to look at them. Postcards of sandy beaches, snowy mountains, and everything in between. Pictures of a younger and current Bradley with whom you assumed were his fellow Navy buddies, smiling wide for the camera like he’s having the time of his life. A few more older photos of a woman and a man who looks just like Bradley with a kid who you assumed was Bradley. 

You feel Bradley’s presence come up behind you, hear him inhale a sharp breath. “Those are my parents.” 

“You look just like your dad.” 

“Yeah, that’s what everyone says.” 

“And your mom is beautiful.”

“She was.” You know better than to pry any further than that. One day, maybe, but not any time soon. He sniffs once, then clears his throat. “You, um, you want some coffee?” 

You leave the wall to come settle on one of the barstools across the counter from him, propping your chin up in your hand as he pulls open a cabinet.  “Ah, the infamous coffee maker! Damn that thing is huge.”

“Don’t come for me, but I’ve still only figured out how to make one thing,” He warns, pointing at you with a mug. “Hope you like black coffee, ‘cuz that’s all you’re getting.”

“Black coffee is perfect.” 

“I have milk if you take yours with some. Only almond milk though. Supposed to be better for the bones, according to Hangman.” Bradley nods his head towards the fridge. “S’in there if you need it, help yourself.” 

“First the machine, now the milk—this Hangman must be a trustworthy guy if you take all your coffee tips from him.” 

Bradley laughs, a loud belly laugh that sends a tumbling feeling through your chest. “Dude’s a total knucklehead, but he means well. I think you’d like him.” 

“What’s that thing they say about a person’s friends being a reflection of themselves?” You muse teasingly, tilting your head. 

“I know you didn’t just call me a knucklehead!” 

“Your words, not mine.” You lift one shoulder, letting it drop with a look of feigned innocence. 

“Funny.” 

As always, conversation with Bradley is never dull. Even though you’d talked for hours on end the night before, there is no shortage of stories to be told, life stories shared over coffee and Oreos like you’ve known each other forever. 

Somehow you wind up here, talking about how you both ended up in the same apartment complex. You’d found this place on your own and were immediately sold on it. It was affordable, not too small but not too big, and quiet enough for you. Seemed like a perfect deal had fallen right into your lap. 

Bradley, on the other hand, had found it a completely different way. His friend Nat had been going out with a total douchebag of a guy who just so happened to be looking for a place at the same time Bradley had been, sharing his apartment hunt findings with her. 

She found out he’d been seeing another girl behind her back the whole time, kicked his ass to the curb, tipped Bradley off on the open spot in the complex, and Bradley swooped in to nab the place before the cheating son of a bitch could even blink. 

“You did not!” You gasp, covering your mouth with your palm in shock. 

“I did!” Bradley laughs, nodding enthusiastically. “Never liked the guy anyways. And what was he gonna do, confront me about it? Dude was a total coward, he wasn’t gonna come accuse me of jack shit!” 

“You’re smart, Bradshaw, I’ll give you that.” 

“Apparently not smart enough to know that my mail was being sent to the wrong apartment for months. Again, I’m really sorry about that.” 

“It wasn’t a big deal, I keep telling you that,” You insist, shaking your head. “I didn’t mind, really.” 

“How come you didn’t tell me earlier?” 

“Honestly? I thought you were kinda scary,” You admit sheepishly, ducking your head in embarrassment. 

It feels silly even admitting it, knowing now who Bradley actually is doesn’t fit your perception of him by a long shot. But at the same time, admitting it feels somewhat freeing, like you’re letting go of someone you never knew to make way for someone you’d really love to get to know more. 

Bradley’s eyes widens, mouth falling open just the slightest bit in shock. “Scary? Me?” 

“Yes, you! I dunno if you’ve seen yourself from another person’s eyes, but you look intimidating! You’ve got that whole big tough guy look going on, and I’m not great with confrontation.” 

“And what do you think of me now?” He asks softly, settling his chin in the palm of his hand as he meets your gaze intently. There go your nerves again, swirling in the pit of your stomach like a whirlpool threatening to suck you in. 

You inhale a deep breath, letting it come back out as a sort of breathy chuckle. “I think you’re not at all what I thought you’d be.” 

“In a good way or a bad way?” 

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Anything I could do to sway the odds in my favor?” 

Your mouth is suddenly drier than a desert despite all the liquid you’ve been downing, palms clammy against the ceramic of the mug clutched in your grasp. 

You aren’t ready to answer that question, even though you already have an inkling of the things he could do. So you do the only thing you could think of to get yourself out of this situation. You change the subject. 

“I…um—I really loved the chandelier when I took a walk through of the place,” You blurt, jerking your chin over at the sleek fixture above the dining area to draw Bradley’s attention to it. “Really brings the whole place together. Or, it would if mine would stop flickering all the damn time.”

His face falls just the tiniest bit at the sudden change of subject, but his features twist in curiosity within a split second. “Wait, really?” 

“Yeah, yours doesn’t?” 

“No, mine’s been fine since I moved in. Have you tried taking a look at it, see what’s wrong?” 

You offer him a sheepish smile, bashful now. “This is really embarrassing, but I’m—I’m kind of scared that it’s gonna fall on me if I mess with it. Y’know, revenge of the light fixtures and all that?” Bradley’s mouth lifts at the edges, and you could tell he’s fighting another smile. “Don’t laugh at me! It’s a legitimate concern!” 

“Not laughing!” He clears his throat, giving his head a little shake to keep his composure. But even then, there’s no mistaking the amusement in his eyes. “Chandeliers are very scary.” 

“I knew I shouldn’t have said anything,” You groan, hanging your head. Bradley’s soft chuckle brings a flaming warmth to your cheeks. 

“I could…take a look at it, if you want?” 

Your head whips up to stare at him. “Right now?” 

“Today, yeah. If you’re free after this, I mean.” He shrugs, giving the spoon in his cup a few stirs. 

“For real?” 

“I have tools. I’ll take a look, see if it’s an easy fix and if not, we can call maintenance.” 

“You’re walking a slippery slope, Bradley Bradshaw. If you can get the chandelier working again there’s no guarantee I won’t be calling you for every other household problem in the future.” 

“No complaints here.” 

After you’ve both finished your coffee, Bradley grabs his toolbox from under the stairs, and now you’re both standing in the entryway of your own apartment. You feel him taking in your space the same way you did his, your cheeks flaming hot at the clutter of things all around. 

“It’s usually a lot tidier than this, I swear. I’ve just had a lot of deadlines at work and I haven’t gotten the chance to put everything back in its place.” 

Bradley just smiles, giving a noncommittal shrug. “S’no big deal. I like it.” Everything he got from spending more time with you, he could see it reflected in your space. And as cliche as it sounded, he felt more at home here than he did in his own apartment. 

He sets his toolbox down, grabbing a set of pliers and hopping up on the table with ease to poke around the chandelier for a while before fiddling with something. 

He climbs back down, wiping his hands on the front of his jeans and tossing the tool back into the box, planting his hands on his hips. “Looks like one of the wires was just a little loose. The bad connection caused it to flicker, but I tightened it a bit so it should be fine now. Maybe try it and see?” 

You hurry over to the light switch, flicking it on hopefully. Normally it would start to flicker immediately, but when ten seconds go by and the light shines bright, you beam. “So you’re an electrician too, huh?” 

“Hardly. One of my buddies is though. Sometimes he needs an extra set of hands so I tag along with him, see what I can learn.”  

“Well either way, you’re a godsend!” 

“Just glad I could help.” 

“Let me cook you dinner! I have—” You exclaim, shuffling over to the fridge and pulling it open only to be met with nearly bare shelves, save for a few containers of old fruit and condiments. “—nothing. I have nothing, because I was supposed to go to the store yesterday. Well, this is embarrassing!” 

Bradley had followed you to the kitchen, sliding onto one of the barstools coolly. “No, this is all very reassuring, ‘cause I’ve been meaning to go shopping too but I keep putting it off. Glad to see I’m not the only one with poor weekly grocery trip skills.” 

“I’m sure that was meant to be reassuring, but it really just makes us both sound sad,” You groan, slumping over onto your own stool.

“Your words, not mine,” Bradley chuckles, echoing your earlier words with a cheery smile. 

You roll your eyes playfully. “Okay, I can fix this!” You exclaim, holding up a finger as you open UberEats on your phone. “We could do Thai, burgers, pizza—” 

“You don’t have to buy me dinner, really, I’m just happy I could help.” 

“You can say no all you want, Bradley, it doesn’t really matter to me. You’re staying for dinner, and we can either compromise and get something we both want, or I’ll order something you hate,” You insist, trying to sound as firm as you could. 

“You don’t give up easily, do you?” 

You grin at him, eyes alight with mischief. “No, I don’t.” 

“I like that.” I like you, he wants to say. He doesn’t. 

“What’ll it be then?” 

“I wouldn’t say no to some pizza. Got a six pack back in my fridge I could bring over too, if you want.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

“Of beer, that is,” He adds. “No relation to my giant package.” 

“Oh, you asshole! You swore you’d never bring that up again!” You huff, leaning over to swat at him. Bradley dodges you easily, an easy smile playing at his lips. 

“Okay, okay! I won’t say anything else about it, I promise.” 

“You’re lying.”

“Yeah I’m totally lying.” 

-------

And so it began, a saga of texting Bradley to see if the things in his apartment were as defective as yours, him coming over to help fix various things, and you scrambling to show your utmost appreciation for his help.

A broken thermostat meant going downtown for dinner and drinks at some new restaurant “just to try it out”, a leaky sink resulted in him guilting you into a Mission: Impossible marathon (and a whole lot of insisting the main character looked exactly like one of his Navy higher ups). 

That soon turned into you and Bradley spending more and more time at each other’s places, doing fuck all but enjoying each other’s friendship. And over time, that friendship grew a bit more-than-friends-like—he’d always flirt with you, you’d flirt right back—but neither of you had the guts to do anything about it.

Lingering glances, brushing hands that lasted a little too long to be innocent, inside jokes only the two of you were privy to. You’re almost positive he feels the same way about you as you do him, but every time you want to act on it, you chicken out. You've never been one for putting yourself out there, and that hasn’t changed. 

You’re about to turn in for the night today, going to close the window in your bedroom only to realize that the lock on the frame isn’t sliding into place the way it usually did. 

After jiggling it a few times to see if it would prove a quick fix and finding that it most certainly doesn’t fix a thing, you reach for your phone, instinctively sending off a quick message to Bradley without even really having to think about it. 

y/n: quick question! what should i do if my window won’t lock? 

Not five minutes after you hit send, your phone buzzes, Bradley’s name flashing across the screen for a video call. 

It’s odd, because usually when you text about something in your apartment not working the way it's supposed to, he just shoots back a message saying he’ll be right over. It’s nighttime, so you were honestly kind of looking forward to seeing him in his grey sweats and bicep hugging black tee combo. 

You give yourself a quick once over in your phone camera, smoothing down any flyaway hairs before hitting the answer call button. There’s a few beats of nothing as the call connects, but he’s on your screen soon enough, somewhere you don’t recognize and half-shrouded in the dark like he’s under something. 

“Something’s wrong with your window?” He asks, brow creased in concern. 

“Hi to you too, Bradley.” 

“Sorry, hi. But your window, is the lock broken?” 

“I think so? Usually when I go to turn the plastic lock thingy it clicks into place, but I tried it like four times and it’s not clicking, so…” You trail off, pouting. “D’you—I mean, are you busy right now? Would you mind popping over to take a look?” 

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m actually not home right now. Won’t be for another few weeks.” Bradley frowns, scratching at his cheek. “I’m overseas.” 

“Oh my god, Bradley! I’m so sorry, I didn’t know!” 

“No, you’re good! If I was home, I’d be over in a heartbeat, but uh, unfortunately,” He sighs, gesturing vaguely at his surroundings. “Here, flip the camera. Lemme see if I can see what’s wrong from here.” 

“Are you sure?” You ask, gnawing on your lip. It seems wrong, still having Bradley be your on-call maintenance guy even when he’s somewhere probably a thousand miles away. But he nods enthusiastically so you oblige, flipping the camera so it’s facing the seemingly broken lock. 

You watch him blink a few times and squint at the fuzzy video screen for a little bit before sighing again. 

“Sorry, Y/N. I can’t see shit from here.” 

“Yeah no, it’s fine.” You shrug, flipping the camera back to face you. You prop your phone up on your windowsill, settling into a more comfortable position to chat with him. “Where overseas are you?” 

“Afraid that’s classified, ma’am.” He bows his head in apology, but there was a teasing smile on his face. “See, I could tell you. But then I’d have to kill you.” 

You let out an amused chuckle. “Oh, really?” 

“Unfortunately. And you’re too pretty to meet that end, so I’m gonna have to keep my whereabouts a secret to save us both the hassle.” 

Pretty. Bradley thinks you’re pretty. 

You have to fight the smile threatening to break your composure. “How gracious of you.” 

“Isn’t it? I surprise myself sometimes,” He sighs good-naturedly, looking all too pleased with himself. “But seriously, talk to the super about your window, have them get the maintenance guy to take a look. Don’t think I’ll be able to sleep til it gets fixed.” 

“Aw, you worried about me, Bradley?” You tease, pouting playfully at him. 

He rolls his eyes. “You know I am.” 

“I’ll call the super tomorrow.” 

“Not today?” 

“I’ll let you know if someone breaks in through my third floor window.” 

“Hey, you never know! People are stealthy,” Bradley protests, shifting to a sitting position and subsequently hitting his head on the bunk above him. He lets out a hiss of pain, rubbing the top of his head with a grimace. 

“Some people are, but you’re definitely not,” You snicker, to which Bradley gives you another eye roll. “Are you about to go to bed?” 

“I was gonna, but I’d much rather talk to you.” 

That nearly makes you swoon. God, Bradley is good with his words. Damn him. 

“Go to sleep, I’ll let you know when it’s fixed. Wouldn’t want you worrying your pretty little head about me all night.” 

“Pretty little head,” He echos, tilting said pretty little head to the side. 

“It’s, uh, it’s just a figure of speech,” You insist, feeling your cheeks grow embarrassingly warm. Funny how they always do that whenever you’re talking to him. Or thinking about him. Or thinking about talking to him. 

Bradley just smiles again. “Sure is.” 

“Goodnight, Bradley.” 

“Night, sweetheart. I’m expecting that text to be there when I wake up.” He hangs up before you can register the nickname, but you can’t stop the giddy grin breaking across your face when you do. 

First he calls you pretty, now he’s calling you sweetheart. He’s getting bolder. You aren’t sure if that means he feels the same way about you, or if it’s just his personality. Even after you’d known him for almost six months, you still can’t tell. 

-------

Bradley rouses from his sleep at five on the dot, throwing himself into his Navy enforced routine until lunchtime, when he could finally sit down and check his phone. Upon powering it back on and glancing at the homescreen, he sees that he has two notifications from you. One of them is a selfie of you beaming next to your newly fixed latched window, sending him a thumbs up. 

Shit, you’re so pretty. It makes his heart ache to be away from home this time, not able to help you when you need it. 

The other is a text to accompany the photo. 

y/n: window is fixed. hope you sleep well tonight knowing no stealthy people are gonna break in :)

He snorts softly, a smile overtaking his face as he taps out a reply. 

bradley: i won’t worry my pretty little head about it anymore. 

y/n: you better not be texting me from the jet!! 

bradley: and so what if i was? i’d call it multitasking. 

y/n: i’d call it damn stupid, lieutenant. can’t have my handyman ditching me, so come home in one piece, k? 

“Now who in the world could you be texting that’s got you cheesin’ like a big ol’ idiot right now?” Hangman’s voice drawls from across the table, drawing Bradley’s attention away from his phone and to the rest of the squad, who all look at him with the same expectant expressions. 

“Five bucks it’s his girl from back home,” Payback chimes in, smirking knowingly. 

“I’ll take that action, please and thank you,” Fanboy replies, smacking his hand into Payback’s for a shake to seal the deal. 

“She’s not my—have you guys been creeping on my texts?” 

“Well, not creeping per se,” Phoenix reasons, holding her hands up in defense. “I was only trying to send myself that picture of Bob sleeping with that marker mustache when she texted.” 

Bob makes an incredulous noise, head whipping towards his front seater. “You guys said there were no pictures!” 

“Nothing, nevermind,” She hums, waving him off. “Back to the subject at hand. Y/N. Rooster’s girl.” 

“How d’you know her—hold on, how the fuck did you get into my phone?” 

“Your password is your birthday, dumbass. You should really change it, by the way. Cybersecurity is no joke.”

“Whatever. She’s not my girl, by the way. If any of you cared to know. We’re just…friends.” 

“See that hesitation between just and friends? Bradshaw’s a liar!” Hangman whoops, drumming his fingers on the table. “He wants to be her boyfriend!” That last word comes out a teasing singsong, making Bradley roll his eyes. He’s right, of course, but he doesn’t need everyone knowing that. 

“Real mature, Hangman. Real mature.” 

“Can’t argue with the truth, Rooster.” 

-------

You soon discover that life is pretty boring without Bradley around. There’s nobody to bother when you get bored, nobody to make dumb jokes while you watch a movie, nobody to force you to go out even though you don’t want to. Bradley was always the one to do all those things with you, and he isn’t here. Sure, you’re still able to text and talk, but it isn’t the same. You miss him. 

So when your doorbell rings and you aren’t expecting anyone, your mind immediately goes to Bradley. You quickly give yourself a once over in the mirror in the foyer, making sure you look at least halfway presentable before pulling open the door excitedly. 

Bradley’s already beaming when your eyes land on him, but his smile gets even wider as he takes you in. He looks the same as the last time you saw him, although definitely better than he did on a grainy video screen. He’s a little tanner than you remember, shoulders a smidge broader, but still the same Bradley you’d grown some big feelings for. 

“Remember me?” He jokes, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

You give him a once over with a tilted head, frowning. “Sorry, no. I think you might have the wrong apartment.” 

“Oh, she’s funny now!”

“Okay, ouch. I’ve always been funny, Bradshaw,” You huff, but the smile stretching your lips tells him you’re anything but annoyed. “Welcome home.” 

You aren’t sure if you should hug him but you do anyway, wrapping your arms around his neck, breathing in his achingly familiar cologne. Bradley settles into your embrace almost like he’s melting, letting his nose drop into the dip of your neck as he hugs you back a little too tightly. Not that you’re complaining about it. 

“Glad to be back. Missed you.” He straightens up as soon as those last two words leave his mouth, backing away almost jerkily with a hand flying to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“I missed you too, Bradley.” 

The edges of his mouth quirk up into the beginnings of a smile. “So me and my buddies were gonna head to our usual spot for drinks tonight, kinda like a being back stateside, welcome home type thing. I’d really like it if you came with me.” 

“Oh, no, I couldn’t.” You shake your head profusely, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. Bradley’s head cocks in confusion. “It’s your time with your friends, I don’t want to impose.” 

“You won’t be. I want you there, I want you to meet them all,” He insists, looking entirely sincere. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive. Come with me, please.” 

You gnaw a little on your lip in contemplation, only managing to hold out a few seconds under his intense gaze before giving a small defeated sigh. “Okay. I’ll join you.” 

“Great!” He beams, looking rather pleased. “Now tell me everything that happened while I was gone. And spare no detail either, I need to catch up on the complex gossip. Did that kid Andrew ever stop banging on his drums until three in the morning? Does that family across the parking lot still go on walks with their wailing baby or has that sucker settled down yet? I need to know.”

After bringing Bradley up to speed on everything, it’s time to meet his friends. 

Rowdy isn’t sufficient enough to describe the Hard Deck. A Navy joint through and through, the whole place is decked out floor to ceiling with model jets and patches and other various related memorabilia.

The group Bradley leads you towards seems to be the loudest of them all, scattered out around a pool table in the back corner chatting amongst each other and looking happy to be home. 

The first person to notice Bradley’s arrival is a dark haired woman with a pool cue in her hand, which she swings his way upon sight of him coming up next to her, nearly taking off his head had he not stepped back a little. “Bradshaw! Tell Bagman he’s insane if he thinks he can chug a beer in under five seconds, tell him that!” 

“No, you tell Phoenix that I can do whatever I—well, hello there,” The blond man—Bagman, you assume—stops mid sentence when he lays eyes on you, dropping the offended look and aiming a pearly white smile your way. “And who might you be?” 

“Not gonna happen, Hangman,” Bradley warns. He looks entirely serious about it too. 

“Oh, so you’re the Hangman this guy always talks about,” You lilt, ignoring the gentle shove Bradley gives you in return. 

“Aw, Roo, you talk about me?” Hangman drawls, grinning wildly. “Way to make a man blush!”  

“Yeah, yeah, don’t flatter yourself.” Bradley rolls his eyes playfully, giving his head a shake before introducing you to his friends. Each of them has a unique callsign that seems to fit them perfectly. Your favorite name is Coyote because of how cool it is, but you’d never let Bradley know that. 

The woman Hangman had been bickering with, Phoenix, inhales a sharp breath, her eyes bouncing between you and Bradley with barely contained glee. “Oh my god, you’re Rooster’s girl! He’s been—”

Bradley clamps a hand on Phoenix’s shoulder before she can continue, cutting her short. “Alright!” He blurts, giving her a quick few pats. He angles his head towards you, offering a guilty smile. “Sorry about her, she’s drunk. Doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” 

“Move the hand or you’ll lose it, Bradshaw,” She says slowly, pinning him to the spot with a death stare. Bradley retracts his hand instantly, looking intimidated as he does so and Phoenix aims a grin your way. “He’s well trained, I promise. I think maybe you’ve had something to do with that?” 

“I dunno about training, but I’ve taught him a few tricks.”

“What am I, a dog?” Bradley splutters, looking from your grin to Phoenix’s and huffing out a sigh when you both nod. “I feel attacked! This is so unfair.” 

“I like you. We need to get you a drink,” Phoenix says very as-a-matter-of-factly, holding up her empty glass towards you as proof. “Any preference?” 

“Surprise me?” 

“Copy that.” 

You watch her retreat over to the bar, casting a quick glance at your surroundings to make sure nobody is paying attention before leaning in towards Bradley, who mirrors your actions almost instantaneously. 

“Rooster’s girl?” You chuckle, raising an amused brow. You’d never admit it out loud, but you like the nickname. It meant that he told his friends about you. Maybe not in the way you’d wanted them to learn about your existence, because he’d probably told them you’re just friends, but nice nonetheless. 

Bradley goes positively pink in the face. “It’s, uh—s’nothing, my friends just like to mess around.” 

“Okay.” You shrug trying to play it cool while simultaneously fighting the urge to squeal like a damn schoolgirl on the inside. You ought to earn some sort of medal for your performance. 

You soon fall into easy conversation with Phoenix and her backseater Bob when she returns with drinks. It isn’t until Bradley finally leaves your side to go play a round of pool with some of the other guys that she props her chin up in her hand, smiling knowingly at you. 

“So…you and Rooster?” 

“What about us?” 

“Are you guys…y’know,” She gestures vaguely in the air, tilting her head over at Bradley. “A thing?” 

“Oh my god,” Bob mutters, so soft you barely even hear it. He looks mortified at his partner’s very not subtle insinuation. “Nat, you can’t just ask her that.” 

“Oh no, it’s okay! We, uh—Bradley and I are just friends.” 

Phoenix doesn’t look like she believes you one bit, but she just nods reassuringly. “Well, just friends or not, you’re good for him.” Then she moves onto a new topic like it’s nothing, but her words echoed in your mind. 

You cast a glance over at Bradley a little ways away, where he’s chatting idly with another one of his buddies. 

You’re good for him. 

If anything, Bradley is good for you. He pushes you out of your comfort zone, he helps you come out of your shell. He’s the reason you’ve grown into a new person, one that the old you would never have even dreamed of becoming. 

Maybe your attention lingers a little too long, because he tears his eyes away from his conversation partner to meet your gaze, lips curling up into a grin as he nods at you in acknowledgement. Even from across the bar, you can see the soft twinkle in his eyes, the fondness and warmth in his smile causing your heart to swell in your chest. 

By the time you and Bradley decide to call it a night and head home, you already have an indefinite invitation to any and every squad function in the future (whether or not Bradley was present, Phoenix had added with a wink). 

“So…what did you think of ‘em?” 

“I like your friends. They’re nice,” You say earnestly. You mean it.

“Good. I’m glad. They really like you too, Phoenix and Bob especially,” He says casually, flicking on his blinker to turn left. You let out a pleased chuckle at that. 

The two of you chat like normal the rest of the way home once you both settle back into your usual back and forth, exchanging more stories from your respective lives until Bradley pulls into his assigned parking space. 

“Before I forget, I brought you back something.” 

“Oh?” You raise a curious eyebrow. 

He reaches over to your side of the car, fumbling around in the glove compartment for a few seconds until he procures what he’s searching for—a small postcard with a photo of a very picturesque beach. The corners are a bit bent from being shoved in there, but Bradley straightens them out as best he can before holding it out to you.  

Turning it around in your hands, you spot a note in his familiar chicken scratch on the other side, much tinier than you remember but only because it details how much he hated sharing a tiny bunk with Hangman, who was an avid sleep talker when he wasn’t snoring as loud as humanly possible throughout the entire night. 

One thing stands out to you though, the last sentence before he’d signed his name with a rather crooked looking smiley face—I miss you. 

“This town was near where we were stationed. I was gonna mail the card, but I wanted this first one to be special.” 

“Special?” You echo, tilting your head. 

“Yeah. Thought maybe it’d be fun if I send you one of these every time I’m deployed and you could start your own wall. That way whenever I’m gone and you miss me, it’ll—I dunno…remind you I’m coming home?” He finishes awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

You try your hardest to fight the smile threatening to overtake your face as you study the card intently. It’s very sweet of him, you think, that he wants to share this tradition of his with you. 

“Thank you, Bradley,” You say softly. “I love it.”

"I was hoping you would. I'm glad you do."

When he walks you right up to your door, he looks nervous, which isn't like him. You're about to ask him if he's feeling okay, but then he speaks.

“Hey, look, I—um, I’ve had a really good time these past few months, being your friend."

You frown a little. “Uh oh. Why do I feel like there’s a but coming?” 

“No! I mean, yes, but also—shit, okay, lemme start over.” Bradley shakes his head as if to clear his mind, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I’ve really enjoyed being your friend, but I don’t wanna be friends anymore.” 

Oh. 

Your heart may as well have fallen out of your ass at his words. Bradley didn’t want to be friends with you anymore? 

You must not have as good of a poker face as you mean to, because he quickly backtracks, eyes wide. 

“Fuck, no that’s not what I meant, I—jesus, I meant to say that I don’t want to be just friends anymore,” He blurts, letting his hands drop to his sides. “I really missed you while I was gone. More than I should’ve. And at first I just thought it was because we’re such good friends and because of how much time we’ve spent together lately and that’s why I felt like there was this chunk of me that was missing, but I realized it was more than that. I like you. A lot. So I don’t just want to be your friend anymore, I want to be…more.” 

Oh.

Bradley likes you. And you like him right back.

So, you do the only thing you can think of that will show him your feelings towards him. 

You lean forward, closing the gap between the two of you and kissing him right here and now. 

His palms smooth themselves down your back, fingers splayed across the expanse of it as he kisses you like his life depends on it. His mustache is scratchy, but you don’t mind one bit, not with the way he’s holding you against him, like you’re puzzle pieces slotting perfectly together at last. 

You pull away first with a hand against his chest, only slightly, just enough to look him in the eye when you tell him, “I like you a lot too, Bradley.” 

“Best news I’ve heard in a while,” Bradley sighs, tipping his head back with a sigh of relief. Then his brows furrow, eyes focusing above your heads. “Your light is out,” He says bluntly, squinting at the darkened bulb. “Did you know that?”

“Yeah, I know,” You chuckle. “I would’ve changed it, but the damn thing is rusted over, and my handyman has been out of town for a bit.” 

Bradley snorts, rolling his eyes playfully. “Hilarious. You got a spare lightbulb? I could change it right now.” 

“You could.” Now you’re feeling bold and you run with it, walking your fingers up his chest until they link around the back of his neck. “Or…you could change it tomorrow, after breakfast?” 

His brows fly high at that, tongue darting out to wet his lips nervously. “Tomorrow. Like, as in, you want me to stay the night here, and stay for breakfast in the morning?” 

“Well, yes. We’ve got some more catching up to do, don’t you think?” You ask innocently, though your insinuation isn’t quite so. Bradley’s inhale hitches in his chest at the silent message and he nods quickly, antsy now as you go to unlock the door. 

He’s on you the moment you get the door open, lips glued to yours even as you stumble across the threshold and into the foyer. 

“Wait, wait—” Bradley pants, pulling away only slightly. He’s got a hand skimming over bare skin under the hem of your top, mouth shiny with your lipgloss, and he’s telling you to wait. You raise an impatient brow. “As much as I want to—y’know, and I do, can we just…have a quiet night? I wanna take things slow, make sure everything is perfect.” 

“Okay,” You say, straightening out the collar of his shirt. You can get behind taking things slow. It takes some of the pressure off you to adjust to this big change. “Wanna find a movie to watch?” 

He perks up at that, grinning widely. “Hell yeah! There was some action comedy I wanted to see before I got deployed and I’m pretty sure it’s out on streaming now. Mind if we watch it?” 

You won’t tell him just yet since things between you are the newest they’ll ever be, but you’d gladly watch anything with him. Instead, you just nod. “Go for it. Mind if I go change into some comfier clothes really quick?” 

“Yeah, of course. I’ll be here.” 

Bradley’s queued up the movie on the TV already by the time you return, setting his phone aside when he hears you come back in. 

You’re not quite sure where you should sit, but then he extends a hand out towards you, beckoning you into the cozy space under his arm, and all your questions are answered. It feels like you fit right in when you nestle against him, head falling against his shoulder like its second nature to do so. 

“All good?” He asks, giving you a little squeeze and a fond smile. 

“Never better.” 

There’s no mistaking the happy gleam in his eyes, and you’re sure you have something of the same too. 

You think the whole mail mix up situation from a few months ago had been the best mistake to ever happen to you, because it led you to Bradley, who—and you might be a little forward with this thought—might just become one of the best things in your life. 

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[fanonical]

Did you ever get my ask? I asked about what to do when a child loves something by a problematic author. How do you go about telling them if they’re too young? SHOULD you tell them? I’m talking about current 10 year old HP fans and children who like the Coraline movie. What do we do when it’s them and not adults? We forget about the target audience too much when we talk about things like this as if it were exclusively childhood nostalgia of Millenials/Gen Z

For fuck's sake, I didn't want to rise to the bait here, but this is making me mad because it's such a straw argument, so fuck it, I'm taking the bait. For context, this is anon's first ask:

Anon, first off, you are responding to a post that is five years old and about a subject that we pointedly do not post about anymore, and that alone makes me think you're not responding in good faith, but whatever.

Look, I work in a fucking library. We have HP books. If a child comes up to me and asks 'hey where's the HP books' I am not going to a) kick them in the face, b) tell them they're an idiot or c) refuse to answer. I am going to tell them where the fucking HP books are. I don't put them on displays I make, but I don't censor them, because we are legally not allowed to censor books in the library.

But I guess you're asking more if this is a kid who's in my life, as opposed to a kid who I just kinda come across. So, okay, I have a 9 year old neighbour whose family are friends with mine, we play video games together occasionally when her mum and dad need someone to watch her. And this kid reads books! And this kid reads fantasy books.

If I was seriously talking to her about the HP books, I might tell her about JKR! I would say something like 'I used to like the HP books, but then I learned that the author said some really nasty things about trans people like me. Now I don't like them so much any more.' And we could have a conversation about that, you know! I've talked to this kid about transphobia in terms that are appropriate for her age. We've had discussions about gender before. I think she'd listen to me, and form her own fucking opinion about it! 'I don't like the author of the HP books because she has said some nasty things' is a concept you can communicate to a five year old.

But also like. You're kind of acting like by taking away HP from this (hypothetical in your ask) kid they don't have any other books. Which...isn't true? If all copies of the HP books disappeared off the face of the earth tomorrow, kids would be reading other stuff, as they are currently reading other stuff! My 9 year old neighbour is a huge Jacqueline Wilson fan, she loves the Daisy Meadows rainbow fairy books. I want to introduce her to the Morrigan Crow books. We could get retro and start introducing kids to the Edge Chronicles, I fucking loved those books. Artemis Fowl. A Series of Unfortunate Events. There are so many other book series for kids in this world. I work in a fucking library! I can tell you that the kids are into Tom Gates, Dogman, Diary of a Wimpy Kid, Percy Jackson, Babysitter Club, Dork Diaries, and (exasperated sigh) David Walliams books, based on a sample size of every kid I encounter at work. I get asked for all of them far more than I do for HP, actually.

I don't think you'd be ruining every kid's lives by taking away One Series from them. (Particularly not one that's losing some relevancy every day - and I mean that in the sense that it's not an ongoing series, the last book came out in 2007. Nearly 20 years ago. For a nine or ten year old, that's almost double their entire life.) And I don't think you necessarily would be taking it away from them to say 'hey this is the reason I don't like these books'. I trust your average ten year old to be able to have a reasonably mature conversation. You're making it sound like they're all Oliver Twist holding out their gruel bowl saying 'please sir I only read one book'.

Anyway. All this to say, I think kids have the ability to have conversations about media. And there are other books in the world. So, no, taking HP or Coraline or whatever away from kids is hardly snatching candy from a baby. Kids are smarter than you think.

[evenmorefatallyobsessed]

So after Team Jnpr found out what happened with Playtime Co how many toys would they kill because some of them are beyond saving. Actually this could be it's own story. But anyway Yarnby, Catnap, and Miss Delight I think are to far gone. The Doctor would probably be no moral issue with killing. Mommy Long Legs, Dogday, and Doey would probably be willing to help them.

So not gonna lie didn't think too deeply on said concept, I was just commissioned to make the model and send it to them. I literally thought of it as I posted it...

But that is a interesting point, after all a good amount of the toys tragically aren't rehabilitate anymore... Just about any small one for sure as they all are basically feral.

I actually wonder if the smaller bodies can think beyond animalistic thoughts. It was mentioned several times that bigger bodies were failures that resulted in animal like natures like with Yarnby and Pianosarus.

So I imagine most the smaller toys are the same though Mommy does seem to be able to control the Mini-Huggies so some are... Trainable. Which is just another level of fucked up.

Ultimately I'd have to say JNPR would kill a good amount, their first kill would be Huggy, and they would be shocked when they do so cuz they don't understand what it is at first thinking it's a Grimm... Until it doesn't disappear and then a monster and once they learn they range in reaction.

Ironically I see Ren reacting the worst as this would break his semblance from emotional overload and since he rarely deals with emotions it would utterly devastate him... Nora wouldn't be much better realizing it's a child who was probably a lot like her.

Pyrrha would be inconsolable and like she was with Penny, Jaune would also be in a horrible state. But as we've seen in the series he is the best at pulling himself together.

And ultimately for his team he would shove his mental issues down to deal with later knowing something just died in him... They'd talk to Poppy and all four would be disgusted, horrified and angry...

As for which toys, yeah... Yarnby, Catnap, and Miss Delight would all be killed. I do kinda also see this situation where they hesitate to kill them, but Jaune would force himself forward to do it, so his teammates wouldn't.

They Would HATE Sawyer, things would not play out like in the game, they'd tear his robotic army apart shatter his container and drag him out piece by piece already being far past their initial innocence at that point.

Jaune would unlock his semblance from the sheer tragedy of seeing all this horror. Probably when he see's Dogday, desperate to heal him, to heal someone who suffered so much, he's had to kill so many victim already. They didn't deserve this! they weren't monsters, they were people, children who'd been twisted, used, turned into playthings for Playtime.

He'd activate his semblance as he rushed forward, grabbing the little critters rushing into Dogday, pulling them out of his flesh, ignoring them biting, scratching, trying to eat him as he did. He couldn't let him die, not another kid, not one who could still think, who still had a soul, and even now was tortured. Jaune would pass out waking up to see Dogday alive... The mini critters dead, torn apart, his team looking more spiritually worn out then ever.

Jaune would apologize, regretting that he passed out, that he didn't kill the small toys... The Feral children... that his team had to, that he couldn't protect them.

Yeah... this would be a emotionally fucked AU... Bright side I can see them saving Mommy Long Legs and by extension, Bunzo Bunny, PJ Pug-a-Pillar and the Mini-Huggies that she controls.

With Catnap I think Jaune more then anyone would understand... Loyalty is one of the core tennent of the Arcs after all... he would try but when his teams in danger he decides.

Doey, and all the toys in the sanctuary would be saved, because to put it simply the Prototype would die before Sawyer (The Doctor does) when he attacks the sanctuary Jaune and Pyrrha would go with Doey to fight him while Ren and Nora would follow Poppy's plan.

[yannisdesk]

Arcane: Is it Copaganda?

I talked about this a bit on twitter, but I will type it up here and elaborate (we all know twt is not the place for longform content anyway). My main argument for Arcane being copaganda isn't due to the existence of Caitvi being Enforcers in season 2, it mainly has to do with Marcus, and how his contribution to the narrative is handled.

Arcane makes it pretty clear from the jump that Marcus is corrupt; he was more than willing to use excessive force against Zaunites who posed no threat to him early in Act 1, foregoes due process to strike a deal with an up and coming crime lord to take down four kids, one of which is possibly an age that's not even in the double-digits, then kidnaps a 15 year-old Vi, and throws her into Stillwater, a notoriously horrifying prison, indefinitely (life sentence) with no trial or records - all done so he could allegedly keep her "safe" (more on this later).

Marcus is then showed not only continuing to uphold his end of the deal with Silco, which includes allowing shimmer to spread throughout the Undercity, but also directly benefitting from it, becoming sheriff in seven years or less. He shows some resentment over this, but nothing to the point of actually going out of his way to do the right thing or change his situation. He dies, in a show of overt police brutality, trying to kill Caitlyn and Ekko for trying to negotiate peace for Zaun and justice for Silco's actions.

And what happens afterwards in regards to the greater implications this could have for the narrative addressing state violence and corruption, and how it's maintained through organizations like law enforcement? Absolutely nothing.

You would think Marcus, the literal sheriff, being involved in high-level conspiracy, corruption, and who knows what else, would be a wakeup call to people like Caitlyn who are Enforcers but are supposedly in it for altruistic reasons; and also possibly to the council and Piltover overall - "Hey, there's a serious issue with our law enforcement if the sheriff of all people could turn out like that. Maybe we should clean house?" I'm no fool, I didn't expect Arcane to do a police abolishment plotline because that would be a one-way ticket to getting review bombed by rabid "anti-woke" dudebros who never cared about the show anyway; but the Enforcers are not challenged or elaborated on in the slightest in season 2, if anything they get worse.

Caitlyn knows that Marcus, her boss, was corrupt, imprisoned her girlfriend indefinitely when she was just a teenager, and got away with it Scott-free. Had it not been for Jinx's bridge attack in S1E7, Marcus would've killed her, Ekko, and Vi who'd ran back to try and save them. And he more than likely would've gotten away with that too. But we never see her ponder this at all, not even in season 1.

We're shown Enforcers being horrible throughout first season. The warden, who is an Enforcer, brags about how many times he's brutalized Vi. We're shown Enforcers slamming a Zaunite through glass windows for responding with being called a slur with spitting on their boots, we're shown in the "Enemy" music video that Enforcers slammed young Vi and Powder against gates for random searches and how humiliating that is.

But come season 2? All of that is washed away. I thought they were going to do something with how willing the Enforcers were to use the Grey, but no, not even that's addressed after Act 1. No one from Caitlyn's strike team ever faces consequences for that. Maddie dies because she betrayed Caitlyn, and Loris is killed in the midst of battle against Noxus, but neither of those scenarios has anything to do with their willingness to comply with wielding gas weaponry against an entire population of people. Maddie spying on Caitlyn for Ambessa is treated as a greater crime than her actions in Zaun. Vi has the audacity of going around calling other people traitors as if she also did not comply and defend it. Same goes for Caitlyn, Loris, and Steb.

And as for the rest of season 2, we get glimpses of the Enforcers rounding up Zaunites and participating in martial law, which was brutal on the Undercity, but again, it's never given any narrative weight the way it was in season 1. Come time for the main characters to fight off the new Big Bad™️(Ambessa + Noxus and Viktor) all of a sudden the Enforcers are shown mostly in positive or humorous lights. Gert, who has spent most of season 2 rebelling against them because of their heightened tyranny under Caitlyn, is all of a sudden willing to join them and die wearing their uniform just because one of them behaved like a human for half-a-second. The show ends with Caitlyn and Vi being active members on the force, and that's where it ends.

I believe Marcus is mentioned possibly once in act 1 of season 2 (I'm not rewatching to confirm), but other than that his entire influence is dropped, which is just strange and unrealistic, and is a lost opportunity for Arcane to address this topic beyond the surface. You would think someone like Caitlyn or even Vi, or hell, anyone would at least attempt to use his story as inspiration for a reformist angle, but no, we didn't even get that. Marcus is relegated to a "one bad apple" cliche, which is when cops who get caught up with corruption or brutality are treated as outliers within the system, not reflections of the systems deeper problems; which you'd think with Marcus, being the sheriff, would mean the writers would take advantage of that, but no they don't. The other half to that "one bad apple" saying is "spoils the whole bunch" - there were definitely plenty of Enforcers who were either complicit, just like him, or even worse. But the writers abolished that for whatever reason and gave us this whitewashed slop of a plot with the Enforcers which was equal parts insulting and dissatisfactory. Treating Marcus as "one bad apple" is copaganda, full stop, and that affected the rest of the story. The Enforcers have not even attempted to reform at all; they've just wrecked even more havoc on Zaun and got away with it, and characters who'd you would expect to have something to say about that don't because the writers desperately want you to forget about this aspect of the story because it clashes with their "the devil you know"-centric finale.

[katierosefun]

Hello :))) So, i was today years old when i learned you had a girlfriend (if i’m not mistaken) and somehow it means a lot to me as you’re one of my comfort blog and that i’ve been struggling with my own sexuality for a while. (I hope it does not come off as weird this is really not my intention 😭) So i was wondering if you would mind sharing how you two met as i love hearing about queer love stories coming from real people and not only in fiction (somehow i need to be reminded that yes, it can happen in real life too for me??) If and only if you’re comfortable doing so of course!!!

aww hi anon! first of all, thank you so much for the kind words--i'm so glad to hear that my blog is a source of comfort for you. and also, re: your sexuality--i'm sending you so much love! i know how scary and how overwhelming it can be to still be figuring out your sexuality and navigating your own queerness, so please remember to have some compassion for yourself, and please know that you're not alone.

as for my girlfriend: yes! i do in fact have one, and we've been together for a little over a year and a half now. we'll be going on two years pretty soon, which is all very exciting!

as for how we met: it's all a pretty funny story, because we actually met while we were both in college. and also right during that first covid summer too. we started off as long-distance friends, bonding our love for star wars and writing.

anyways, i totally had a crush on her, although i was trying to play it off most of the time. the fact that we lived in separate cities was another factor too, of course.

fast forward to a few years later, when we've both graduated college. i've just started my first year of law school; she's working at this point. we're still texting and calling each other a bit, and then i tell her, oh yeah, i'm going out on a date with this guy.

and just like something from a kdrama or a movie or something, this ridiculous, lovely woman texts me as i'm boarding the bus for my date. her text? hey, i dreamed about you last night! we were sitting on a park bench together and we were holding hands :)

and of course, at this point, i still have a disastrous crush on her (hence why i spent a lot of time dating all these random guys in my junior and senior year of college, because i was like i gotta just get over this), but anon, that text message was the other shoe dropping on my brain. i decided right then and there that enough is enough, i'm gonna call her tomorrow and tell her i like her, so she can't just say stuff like that anymore because i don't think i can take it anymore.

so we arrange to have a phone call the next day, and we chat, and of course, true to form, i have to have some liquid courage on me (peach soju, btw . . . but turns out, if you're jittery enough, you don't even feel the alcohol, because i still remember every detail). anyways, at some point, we're chatting, and then i blurt out, "i like you."

and she goes, "i like you too."

and i went, "no, i mean i like you more than a friend. as in i like you."

and she goes, "uh, yeah. i like you to do. the feeling's mutual."

and of course, i didn't know what to say to that. like, i swear i was just like "??? what?" because the thing is, i had this whole speech planned out in my head--something like i like you, and you don't like me like that, so i'm sorry that this is awkward, and i can just take care of my own feelings, but i just really needed to say that so that we're both on the same page--

so to say i was pretty stunned would be an understatement! so cue a lot of laughter and flustering, and fast forward to today, with her living with me for the summer (because of course, she'll need to go back to work and i'll have to go back to school once august hits), and we talk about how many pets we're going to have one day (she has this hobby of sending me videos of increasingly exotic animals and going "??? so can we have this as a pet? :)"), and we've talked about what our wedding is going to be like (as well as what our wedding will not be like) . . .

this is just a whole lot of details, but as you might be the first one to ask me about this lovely person on this webbed site, of course i'm going to ramble and gush--but anon, to give you some hope here, queer love is a beautiful thing and it certainly happens.

personally, i would love to go back in time and find my sad high school self and go "hey, hang in there, because you're gonna be lucky enough to finally fall in love with someone who's kind and warm and patient and loving, and she's going to encourage you to be a better person, and she's going to make friends with literally every single stranger on the street (much to your partial exasperation and partial wonder), and she's going to be really bad at staying hydrated, and she's going to take so many photographs of everything, and she's going to make friendship bracelets on your bed, and she's going to almost fight the secretary at a dentist's office for you (while you tug at her sleeve and go come on, i'm fine, let's just go), and she's going to recite and write poetry that you keep both on your walls and also in your head, and her grandma is going to show you the dorkiest photos she has of this silly, lovely, beautiful person who you love."

so: all that to say, anon, i hope that gave you some hope! it's such a long journey for some of us, but i promise that queer love is out there and healthily alive, and yeah, sometimes they're just as good (or even better) than those that you find in fiction :)

[justalittlebluetiefling]

I haven't been involved with coaching for almost 3 months now and somehow I am still getting dragged into the drama.

[kawaiianimeredhead]

Learned today I'm basically the cause of a 2 or 3yo boy who went around making fart sounds with his mouth saying he was breathing like a turtle and I think I'll be riding this high for days tbh

[happyk44]

It's kinda funny because w/ my Zeus kid OC (who I've been thinking about renaming as Araceli, 'cause it means altar of the sky, apparently, which I like 'cause sky-themed-ish but also like. A little bit I wanted something that meant cloud the way Coral's name means... Coral) the implication is that she takes after her father to an almost mirroring degree because I developed her and my other PJO OCs (who also all got retconned into an OG work) at the same time I was playing around with my ideas on the Big Six, and the gist at the time was supposed to show how the Big Six could've turned out if they weren't so weird.

So the dynamics of the friendship was supposed to be very similar to the dynamics of Big Six's relationship to each other (e.g. Mary having a major crush on Hera's "representative" but also being attracted to literally every other person that walked by, Nico being the soberminded big brother figure, etc). It's also one of the reasons Mary would get angry whenever someone would compare to her dad, because similarly I think Zeus would get angry if someone compared him to his dad.

And then eventually as I got older and the daydream moved around with whatever obsession I had at the time, the characters and general storyline began to change away from that in some ways but core features sort of stayed and so I ended up with a version of Zeus that ignores his daughter's pleas for help because he loves her but her pain hurts him because he can't do anything about it and it's his fault she's suffering.

She got this intensity from him, it's ingrained into the way it's ingrained in him. But he was able to rebuild the world according to his own needs and wants and beliefs. And she can't really do that. So he doesn't have any advice he can give her when she's on her knees begging for help with all the noise and pain in her head. He doesn't know what to do! It's like he can just go and rip it out of her.

But she's suffering because she's different and she's weird and she knows it and she knows it's his fault which is why she's asking but he just doesn't know and he can't handle watching her suffering and listening to her cry when there is no helpful answer to give her because "I don't know" isn't going to fix it.

He's supposed to fix things, he's supposed to have the answers. He's king of the world, by damn! He's a problem solver. He supposed to have a solution, and a million backup solutions. But he doesn't! There's nothing he can do to make the noise stop because truth be told, the noise never really stopped for him! It just got easier and quieter. So he turns away from her because he loves her and he's failing her and he can't handle that.

But also in the same breath, I think he recognizes similar aspects of himself in Jason, who isn't even asking for help, and fucking despises him for it, lol.

✨ Girl Dad ✨

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[perilegs]

i think i'm the perfect family gathering babysitter bc i LOVE hearing people just go off about whatever topic and children LOVE doing that

[welpnotagain]

I wrote out like two quite long posts. Anyway it boils down to:

If you post something online, especially a subjective opinion, you are opening yourself up to be disagreed with. This is to be expected. You are not alone on the internet and it is not reasonable to act like you are receiving hate and/or are "being cancelled" simply because people are disagreeing with you. If you think your opinion is entitled to stay entirely unopposed you probably shouldn't post it.

[boomerang109]

yesterday the dad i nanny for asked what we do outside

watch the rolly pollies, listen to the birds, wave at the airplanes, dig in the dirt i said

do you want me to buy her more toys? he asked. i don’t want you to be bored.

i didn’t know how to explain

what a privilege it is to slow down. to watch the bugs crawl, to notice the sounds the birds make, think about the people flying by, to consider the texture of the dirt

i spent years as an honors roll student. pushing myself through hours of rehearsal, the maximum amount of classes i was allowed to take. i neglected friendships and parties and joy because i thought that was what success meant. i thought that’s how i earned the right to be loved. if i wasn’t a perfect student i wasn’t good enough

so no. im not bored. i’m so incredibly grateful for the rest my body has yearned for, for a decade. i am so honored to be paid to spend my days playing. i don’t need toys or games to keep things interesting. just your daughter’s smile, her contagious laughter, her boundless wonder. that’ll keep me going for a long time yet

[neverendingford]

.

[stressedjester]

thinking about my childhood and getting pissed at my dad again