#i really have no idea what's going on here in the specific sense

[paracosmicessence]

i've contemplated sending u an ask here for like 2 days regarding ur sonadow art and oufhgh i have to say it is so,, so gentle like the intimacy and softness of it all/pos i hardly see artists that explore the intimate cuddly drawings without the sexual coding so finding your art is so nice?? like refreshing nice as an aroace person bc in my perfect world, many little guys are just cat coded and it's so so cool to me to have found ur art out in the wild also for the mpreg stuff youre literally one of the most normal ppl i've seen draw/bring it up lol, i'm aware so many ppl like to meme on it or make it a fetish which tbh is pretty transphobic, so i'm just really glad you steered it away from that direction and displayed it as something normal and gentle given the context of the au/lh

first off thank you this is such a nice message and i love that people also feel the vibes of soft and intimate from my sonadow art that’s my only ever goal whenever i drew them 😭😭

second off FELLOW AROACE PERSON ACQUIRED 🫵‼️like omg you get it i love thinking about ships in a cat coding way if that makes sense but especially sonadow bc they’re animals so i just love thinking about them as little guys i can put in my pocket just like my cat

like idk if this is an aroace thing bc i don’t hear it described in a way that i relate to exactly so this might just be me but basically: i’ve always loved romance and ships in fiction but as i got older i slowly realized that i don’t think i can feel it for myself. which kinda made me sad at first because the idea of having a partner always seemed so nice, that was the main reason i didn’t think i was aroace at first because i thought i had always wanted to be in a relationship. i did some research and looked into different identities on the aroace spectrum, and thought that cupioromantic was probably the most accurate to what i was feeling, but later didn’t feel like it applied to me because i think the “enjoys the idea of being in a relationship” doesn’t fit right? ig?? idk how to describe it other than i like the idea of relationships, but it took me awhile to realize that i didn’t really want to apply myself in one if that makes sense.

most likely there’s a thing or word out there that already exists to describe that and i just haven’t been looking up the right terms, but basically this is just a very very long way of saying that i feel like whenever i get into a ship it sorta..…attaches?? to my very identity or something?? like i know people can be like “this is my OTP i love them forever and think about them literally all the time” and it’s like YES that’s me but also feels like an understatement, like all of my past hyperfixations on ships are literally ingrained into my soul even i’m not that into them anymore. and i know people compare hyperfixations to relationships and tbh that’s probably the most accurate description but again, that feels like an understatement.

okay honestly idk where i’m going with this i think what i’m TRYING to say is that i feel like because i can’t feel romance for myself my appreciation for ships feels so much more…emphasized, and sonadow is like the longest consistent hyperfixation i’ve ever had on a ship and at that point usually when something has been a “hyperfixation” for 2+ plus years i put it on the special interest display case in my brain except that display case has only ever had like hobbies and fandoms themselves, never an actual fictional relationship that i’m obsessed with but here we are. it might be the development of brain has synched up with this specific hyperfixation but sonadow is the first ship that makes me feel genuinely happy to this degree. it doesn’t make me sad to think about them and also go “aw i’m sad because i’ve never felt that way about another person and probably won’t experience that ever” in the exact same way you would go “aw i’m going to be dead someday” when you think about the fact that you’re alive right now and conscious and exist and have a mini existential crisis of the week. like sonadow doesn’t do that to me, i really just love those stupid fucking gay hedgehogs so much they’ve actually changed the entire layout of my brain and all the neurons and shit they’re everything to me.

ANYWAY JESUS CHRIST sorry for the ramble uhhhh lemme know if you or any other aroace people know what the fuck i was trying to say there hope you’re doing well and also happy new year!!!

[roryacker]

I love hybrid AUs. I dunno what it is, my current theory is it's just a weird autism trait, I won't get into that for now, but I just really like the idea of taking humans and giving them animal traits and instincts. I have. SO many headcanons lemme tell you.

I like to think of hybrids as a good mix of animalistic and human in behavior, most of the appeal for me is the behavior so I mean. That's a given.

so here's a bunch of my ideas for a Hybrid AU :) I'll probably utilize this for writing about them later on

• I like to think of Soap as a rough collie hybrid. Fluffy, herding dog, Scottish, and I feel like their fur lends well to his lil mohawk thing he's got goin on.

• Absolute menace. 100% he herds anyone and everyone he can get his hands on, primarily prey hybrids. Gaz is one of his most common herding targets, he tries to herd Ghost sometimes but usually gets nipped at for it, and Price is exempt from such instincts.

• Gaz is a deer hybrid, I think he'd look cool with antlers, specifically a red deer. Bucks are strong, man. He just gives me ungulate vibes most of the time idk what it is.

• He usually tolerates Soap's herding. :)

• Price could be lots of things. I've found that I'm actually quite fond of him just being a normal dude who sees the value in hybrids (and treating them like people) so I'll probably go with that. Otherwise I suppose another dog or something could work. Rotts are big and angry but also have a very unintimidating smile so maybe them? They're super good working dogs so. Still I'll mostly stick with the human idea.

• Ghost always depends on what I'm looking for really. Sometimes Wolf if I want the wild vibe, sometimes Dog because he just reminds me of a grumpy working dog. Definitely a GSD hybrid. I do prefer writing him as a dog hybrid anyways so I'll stick with that.

• Shepherds are technically a herding breed, but Ghost lacks any herding instincts and finds Soap's irritating. Best-case they're useful for gathering up the team in a mission to prevent unnecessary separation, though, and it's amusing to watch him weave around folks barking and snapping his teeth at people to get them to stay in line. Sometimes Ghost tolerates it, and sometimes he nips at him to get him to stop.

• I feel like outside of combat Ghost and Soap have a habit of wrestling. Like how real dogs tend to, yknow. You leave them alone for one second and suddenly someone's arm is in someone else's mouth, there's growling, it looks like they're fighting, and the only thing saying otherwise is the wagging tails and the lack of any blood or fur anywhere. It's how they bond

• Price definitely made an effort to not get any hunting hybrids because he'd rather not have infighting thanks to Gaz looking huntable, thank you. It's not even worry that Gaz would get hurt given the fact bucks pack such a punch, he just doesn't want to deal with all that tension.

• Feral, Domestic, Tame, and Wild all mean different things. A Domestic hybrid can be Feral and a Wild hybrid can be Tame, etc. It's mostly rooted in real-life terms, think feral housecats.

• Feral refers to temperament and handleability, it's a term that can change over time based on treatment. Tame is the same but flipped; so a Feral hybrid is harder to handle and acts more like their animal counterpart due to a lack of (positive) human contact, while Tame hybrids seem more intelligent in comparison just due to being easier to handle and better at communicating. Neither are fully unable to communicate by default, but personal traits can mean either are, if that makes any sense.

• Wild vs. Domestic is entirely about the species; a wolf or lion hybrid is wild, while a dog or housecat hybrid is domestic. This one's as simple as finding out if the species they're considered a hybrid of is domesticated or not. If they are, Domestic, if not, Wild. This term cannot change over time, but like their real-animal counterparts, Wild hybrids can be domesticated over time via selective breeding (it won't do much, but it is possible) and Domestic hybrids can slowly regain Wild traits only if multiple generations are exposed to conditions where they need it. So, selective breeding, but backwards. This practice is heavily discouraged as it just leads to unnecessary confusion and hybrid breeding is considered pretty cruel.

• "Hybrids" are not a literal hybrid of human and animal, because that's just kind of weird, but humans with a mutation that closely resembles certain animals. This phenomenon has only been properly recorded as of late, maybe a couple centuries, but there are implications that it might have existed earlier in history and just been ignored, seen as taboo, etc etc.

• There's a few different rules to which hybrids get what treatment. It's not uncommon for any and all hybrids to have a handler, and one handler can be in control of multiple hybrids, but they're not required to live together, and it's more like an emergency contact/trainer/guardian than an owner or something of the sort.

• It is, however, different for Wild and Feral hybrids. Tame Domestic hybrids are not required to have a handler, but Feral Domestic hybrids are at least supposed to have a trainer or therapist or something of the sort. With Wild hybrids it depends on the specific species, smaller Wilds are usually fine, especially if they seem harmless, herbivores tend to be exempt due to stereotypes, and most omnivores are fine, but medium-large carnivores and all Feral hybrids are required to have a handler and in some places required to live with them and be accompanied by them to most places. Wild carnivore hybrids are usually considered more dangerous, also due to stereotypes.

• Again, in certain places, Wild carnivores are expected to wear a muzzle and be properly handled (physical restraint in the form of a leash or the handler just being close enough and able to handle them), but this is mostly a private property/commercial spaces thing that depends on the exact place. Think like how a Petco or something (ew) might let you bring in your little dog or something, maybe a cat, but probably won't let you bring in a big rottweiler or something of the sort, depending on the location. Or how in some locations specific stores will let you bring in a pet as long as they're handled well, but others only allow in service dogs.

• This is very intentionally inhumane, as given how the real world functions I feel like yes we would base how we treat folks with carnivore-oriented traits on how we personify those animals in our minds. Going further I also imagine some places are permitted to bar certain species entirely, and species that are viewed as "unappealing" and violent (hyenas, coyotes and maybe jackals, probably foxes and raccoons in some areas, etc etc) tend to show up on this list a lot.

• Probably lots of folks advocating against this, but it sticks around like a tick because plenty of people are just little cowards about it and don't want the change. I imagine most herbivore hybrids are also against it because what's stopping them from being mistreated in the same way next, so it's mostly a non-hybrid thing.

• How much someone resembles their real-animal counterpart depends on content! This is a term seen in some real-world hybrids, most often I see it in wolfdogs as they're very easily hybridized and their offspring can breed. However, rather than being based on that, because again they're not actually hybrids it's more of a form of mimicry, it's based on the genetics deciding how much of their species they look and act like. I like to think there's a specific set of genes that causes this, and 1-2 traits that factor into how the traits look and how the behavior and instincts develop. Someone who's relatively low-content doesn't look much like the species if at all, and doesn't act much like them, while someone who's high-content will have a lot of the animal's traits and are more likely to fall into that Feral state due to how their brain is built. It isn't set in stone, but more of a big scale.

• Most of TF141 are pretty in the middle of that scale. Ghost is the highest content, Soap isn't far behind, and Gaz is about in the middle, maybe a bit below.

• Nikolai could be a human and I like the idea of normal guy Nikolai BUT he's russian, and to that I suggest: Russian Wolfhound, aka the Borzoi, because I love Borzois they're the best. And greyhounds but Borzoi is a Russian breed :) their fur reminds me a bit of his hair as well

• I just. Really like Borzois, man. I was SO excited when they started gaining popularity a while back, I know it was because of a silly joke but screw it man!! They got more love!!! Smooch smooch Borzois my beloved. They're a sighthound breed as well, and honestly, I feel like that just fits him somehow.

I have tons more but I'll leave it here because I got stuff to do, rambling over take my funky animalfolk and go

[sillyfreakx5]

OK SO

this reblog kinda explains it well, and basically that's the vocabulary ill be using from now on!!!

the way you said that race is real, in contrast to gender, I'm assuming that you mean that it's objective and not a social construct. (correct me if im wrong)

im also assuming that by saying that gender isnt real, you mean that it's a social construct, right?

Well the thing is that race IS a social construct. Yes, it commonly has underlying properties, such as skin tone or specific genes. However, the category of "being black" itself, is arbitrary and decided by people, right? The categories aren't natural, we're not born knowing what the difference between "a black person" and "not a black person" is.

To illustrate how the categories aren't even completely based on objective underlying properties, someone with one black parent and one white parent is unlikely to be perceived as white by the majority of people (since racial categories were kinda originally formed by racists, who viewed white people as special or something).

SO BASICALLY, there's no like objective truth to what counts as a black person, it's kinda whatever people decide it is.

While i think it is kind of common sense to agree with all that, it does take another step to be pro transrace

As I've hopefullyyy established, you can't really argue that there's an objective definition of what "being black" is..But, you can argue that it's a community based category and that according to what most people categorise as black someone who, let's say, biologically fits more or less into the category of "white" can't be black even if they self identify as such (are transrace).

However, leaving identity categories to be decided by popular vote mightn't necessarily be a good idea. In a lot of places/times, most people would agree that transgender people AREN'T their identified gender. But I'm assuming you're pro-trans, and would disagree about that and say that transgender people are their gender no matter what anyone else says, even in largely transphobic spaces.

So, leaving identity up to what most people consider to be correct isn't the way to go, right?

(you can believe all that and still be anti trace btw. i just went off on social construct philosophy)

so what i believe the logical conclusion to be is that anyone can self identify as whatever they want (since it's literally just. feelings about yourself. you can't stop someon3 from thinking abt themselves a certain way), race as a social construct being questioned in such a way that transrace people naturally do is probably beneficial, objective truth about such things isn't real so honestly if them being seen as the race they want to be seen as makes their life better then why not (I've got other arguments abt how it's not harmful)

(also pspsps really good video that introduced me to the whole idea behind social constructs that i highly recommend!!! i know most people wouldn't watch a 20 minute video bc of some discourse but in case anyone here is a nerd like me!! :3)

this is probably even more confusing sigh (i got into the passionate-about-philosophy-discourse state and forgor about making this understandable TwT if you have any specific questions/statements feel free to say whatever!!

tldr; race is a social construct kinda like every identity, and i made a counter argument against a hypothetical argument (that the truth of what someone's identity can be should be decided by what most people believe it to be), and my pro trace argument is pretty much "why not"

I feel like radqueers are just racist wannabe's atp

[bythehearts]

not to bring tiktok drama on tumblr but like every time a ‘scandal’ comes out with one of these ‘production companies’ that make fan films i always hope we’re finally gonna discuss how they professionalize something that should be an hobbyist endeavor… and yet every single time i’m disappointed.

[candyriku]

I unfortunately find myself unable to work on my current Soriku fic today due to my mental state, but I was able to make a bit of a teaser for the next big Soriku fanfiction that will be coming sometime after JTSYS is finished.

You can read it under the cut, but TW for blood, death, and uh, general misery. This has been cathartic for me to write but the whole idea of this fic is that things are impossibly doomed, so be warned - this is not the happy fun zone.

Blood. There was so much blood.

He had smelled it before even seeing it, the metallic scent thick in his nose before he had even rounded the corner. He had tried to convince himself that it was his own bleeding wound that he smelled, or maybe the blood of something else, someone else, but in his heart, he knew the truth. He picked up his pace, sprinting at top speed now, his sneakers splashing through shallow puddles on the wet pavement. 

When his eyes finally came to rest on the crumpled form at the end of the alley, the breath was knocked out of his chest as though someone had taken a baseball bat to his sternum. He knew, of course he knew, but he had hoped-

No. It didn’t matter what he hoped for. Hopes and wishes weren’t for people that walked his path. He had been denied the right to hope for anything ages ago. When he had signed that contract, signed away his soul, he forfeited all the cushy pleasures of a normal life. He had given up his chance of knowing peace.

But it had been worth it. If it was for Sora, anything was worth it.

Standing over Sora’s blood-soaked body, Riku tried to remind himself of that truth, the one thing that he had tethered his heart to all this time. It was worth it. Even if the chance of Sora making it out alive were next to none, there was still a chance. He could still fight.

One of these loops, Riku would get it right. He would figure out how to keep Sora safe, how to protect him from this accursed dimension where everything was designed to end his life. They would break out and live a normal life together, just the way they had always planned. 

There was a happy future waiting somewhere for the two of them. There had to be. Riku had gambled everything on it.

He crouched down, his shaking fingers gently brushing Sora’s tear-stained cheek. He could hardly stand to look at his face, but the sight of his broken, bleeding body was no better. The wounds were precise and lethal, and Riku was far too late.

No matter how many dozens of times he had watched Sora die, it never got easier. It never stopped feeling like his chest was a black hole caving in on itself, his heart squeezed until it was nothing more than dust. 

He couldn’t look. He couldn't look away.

Riku kneeled and placed both of Sora’s hands over his heart. He was about to speak and begin the incantation that would throw them both back to the starting point again, but Sora suddenly stirred, weakly reaching one hand up towards Riku’s face.

“Riku…” his voice was barely more than a whisper. 

“I’m here,” Riku said, the words catching in his throat. “Don’t speak. You can rest now. It’s okay.”

He hated to say it. He wanted to plead with Sora, wanted to beg him to stay. But if Riku had learned anything throughout the loops, it was that nothing came of begging. There was no one to answer his prayers; benevolent forces did not dwell here. At best, all it would accomplish would be making Sora sad in his final moments. At worst, future loops would be impacted by Riku’s words to Sora, twisting the knife further. He had seen it enough to know what to avoid now.

“I don’t want…” There was a weighted pause. “...Don’t want to leave you.” The pool of blood continued to grow. Riku knew - though he wished that he didn’t - that Sora wouldn’t be able to maintain consciousness for much longer at this rate. He could hardly believe Sora was awake even now. 

“We’ll meet again.” he assured Sora softly, trying to keep his voice steady. “Don’t worry. It'll be okay.” 

“You…” This pause was longer, much longer, and Riku was all but sure that Sora would not speak again. Finally, with a wet cough, Sora continued. “You promise?”

“I promise.” Riku lied. He leaned forward and kissed Sora’s forehead, his lips lingering there for several long moments as he took steadying breaths. 

“Mm… ‘kay.” Sora managed. “Love you… so much.” 

“I love you too.” Riku said, clenching his teeth so hard his jaw popped. He wanted to scream. After taking a moment to compose himself, he sat up and offered his best imitation of a smile to Sora. Better for him to see that than to see how broken Riku really was. 

The all-too-familiar faraway look settled on Sora’s face as the last of his breath left his body. Riku collapsed over him, the tears finally coming, the weight hitting him all at once with the force of a tidal wave. Even knowing that he would see Sora alive and well again in mere moments did nothing to comfort him. 

It didn't matter how many times Riku had seen it. It never got any easier to watch Sora die.

[a-commas-a-pause]

Just had a look and I have a theory, but I'm afraid my theory doesn't really have anything to do with a connection between spots and placentas (though you could draw a connection, if necessary - something about cell-to-cell communication, I suspect). I think it's probably more about the protein in question being a really good switch.

Let me explain what I mean by that. The protein in question is an aminopeptidase, which means that when it's expressed in the cell, what it does is it looks for other target proteins (with a specific structural motif) and then when it finds its targets, it chomps a bit off the end of them. This might result in the degradation of the target, or it might just be required for the target to do something else (like go latch onto DNA and express yet another gene, or like mediating pigment production). The point is, what this particular sort of protein actually does is nothing to do with placentas or spots. What this protein does is that in cells where it's expressed, it goes around turning off (or on) all the other proteins that have a particular motif/flag.

It's kind of like if I had a bunch of unrelated tasks I needed to do, but I gave myself a biscuit for every completed task. The biscuit isn't related to any of the tasks and it also doesn't particularly signify that the tasks have anything to do with each other, but it is still absolutely true that I will not do either task if I do not get my biscuit.

Now, as to why it doesn't affect placental function in cats (or coat colour in humans, I guess)? Well, if I had to guess, I'd say while this gene has been around for a long time, its original job was probably neither of those things. It probably did something else yet again, or several other things.

As long as genes' expression zones aren't crossing over, it's actually fine for them to have multiple roles. If A turns on both B and C, but B is only even expressed in the first place in eyes and C is only expressed in fingers, it's fine that A is crucial to two entirely separate processes, one for making fingers and one for making eyes. You're not going to end up with eyes on your fingers because for that you'd also need B (and X Y and Z probably as well). It's also fine if the zones of expression are only separated temporally - maybe B is expressed early and C late, and A gets turned on twice throughout development, once early to activate B and once later to activate C. And it's turned off in the middle to prevent it from accidentally activating D, which instead needs to be activated by B.

Lots of genes have a huge number of seemingly unrelated roles like this - it's called "moonlighting" and it's turning out to be way more common than we first thought. If you've already got a switch that works, why make another one from first principles? Now this is kind of the equivalent of "well we only have one single bed for two people, but it's fine because one of us works night shifts so we never need it at the same time", that is to say, Not Perfect. But natural selection doesn't optimise for perfect, it optimises for "good enough to not die long enough to successfully pass on your genes" (usually, ish, look this reblog is already really long and we don't need to get into this too right now), and the timeshare solution is plenty good enough, so it's what ends up happening like 90% of the time minimum. It's really really hard to make new things and really really easy to reuse old things, basically, and evolution always takes the easiest option in the same way that streams don't flow uphill.

There are some genes that shouldn't be able to moonlight because they turn on whole SUITES of other genes - genes where if you express them in the wrong place they DO put eyes where your fingers should go, and we call these master regulators. But also, this isn't like. A true dichotomy. Master regulators also do seem to moonlight sometimes. And a gene that's a master regulator of something in one clade might do something completely different in another clade. The GABA genes, which are neurotransmitters in animals, actually have a bunch of other signalling functions in plants, especially to do with establishing cell polarity (how does the cell know what direction to grow in). Turns out GABA's just a pretty handy little signalling molecule that's super versatile for cell-to-cell signalling, and multiple different branches of the eukaryotes have taken advantage of that fact!

was browsing thru papers about animal coloration and learned that a gene that helps make the placenta in humans (the thing that keeps you alive when you're a fetus in the womb) also exists in cheetahs, but in the cheetahs, it just controls the placement of their spots

How does THAT happen?!

[wereshrew-admirer]

:)

[erinwantstowrite]

Halloween AU!!!

hey so. i put SOOOOO much effort into this au and for what? at least it ended up looking cool? anyways Halloween is my favorite holiday and i just HAD to make something for them!

i had a LOT of ideas for what everyone would be, but i really wanted to stick to a certain theme cause it's based around Halloween. i knew i had to have a vampire, werewolf, and a witch. cause like... obviously. iconic Halloween stuff!! but i took some liberties with everyone else and i think they turned out pretty cool!!

Jason was originally a fox shifter (which i still love and might draw art for some day) but i went with a bear in the end. is that because i thought about tiny bear cub Jaybin and wanted to cry? yeah. yeah it is. i KNEW Steph was going to be my werewolf though i started doubting myself when i went to draw her. turned out to be my favorite drawing on here which makes sense cause she is my light my love my daughter my will to live and all that jazz

Tim was actually gonna be a harpy but thank god i didn't go for that in the end. Duke was the one that was a bitch and a half trying to figure out BUT!! comments on the post asking what y'all thought led me towards Psychic so THANK YOUUUU everybody that commented!! (specifically those who thought of ghost!! Duke and Tim ended up being a perfect duo in this au)

Babs was pretty easy to figure out what I wanted for her. I read somewhere that they are seen as protectors of forests/ are considered spiritual authority figures and also.... she looks cool as fuck. Did not expect how easy it was to find a ref for a deer in a wheelchair though? I can never find the right hand or face angle reference but that was super easy???

For Bruce there was literally no question he HAD to be human. it's literally so funny that everyone who knows Batman thinks he's a spooky vampire but he's human. his first son, however?????? THAT'S the vampire. I knew Dick had to be a vampire too. A little nod towards that one comic run but in my au nothing bad happens ever 🥰 Damian also being a bat shifter is very on purpose because how funny is it that he's a bat man. Literally not a single person in the League thinks that Bruce is telling the truth about being human. Bruce you are NOT beating the secretly a vampire allegations.

adding in Jay's hilarious joke it's so fucking funny:

Alfred is actually a demon. I CAN NOT remember who made this post so if someone can help me find it, it would be appreciated!! because this was inspired by them!!! but somewhere i saw someone talk about Alfred being a demon that Thomas and Martha made a deal with (i think it was for an au idea?) and I just HAD to put it here. Alfred looks so human and everyone expects it, but he's definitely not. I put the ??? because it's so fucking funny. see if you can spot the 1 hint i put on his drawing that something is amiss!!

Peter is from an alternate dimension still, but it is not a world of creatures like him, it's just the same as LoF canon except Peter grew some extra limbs and eyes. He finds that it's actually pretty easy to fit in with the Waynes. Hard to feel like a freak when a guy can turn into a fucking bear, or your dad is a vampire, and the teenagers in the family are trying to summon ghosts or make potions.

additional doodles for this au:

i am still debating whether i am going to draw something for this au or write a oneshot, but i DO want to do something with these for Halloween

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

To Be Wooed

I blacked out and wrote this. This is so silly to me.

Enjoy!

Look Danny didn't mean to kill the Joker it was an honest mistake, he was still recovering from escaping the GIW and whatever they had used on him had still been in effect when he honest to Ancients ran into the fake clown.

Of course it doesn't look like an accident with how he left the Joker

But it was!

Really it really was!

Whatever the GIW did was out of his system, but that still left a very dead and coreless Joker.

Yeah...apparently Joker had a core, but not anymore because he ate it like it was pop rock candy, if the weird cousin spicy version of it. He still feels like he has some of it stuck in his teeth.

Anyways! Not the point!

Joker! Very dead at his feet, what is he supposed to do-

THUMP

Oh Ancients he's going to die again that's the Red Hood!

"Uh...I can explain, well not really. But it was an accident! I promise and-"

"You killed him?"

"I'm really sorry? He bumped into me, it was an accident I swear!"

"Go on a date with me."

WHa-what?! Did he just hear correctly why would he ask him out out of nowhere it made no sense and..oh.

Red Hood's been touched by Death not like him but enough to count, and enough to have some ghostly instincts.

Okay ghostly courting he can do that, he totally can, no sweat!

Shit who is he kidding he may have the instincts but he was never actually taught how he's supposed to use them or anything.

Well he's always been good at making it up as he goes, and at least his instincts will help push him in the right direction.

So he should just do what feels natural to him.

"Yes I'll go out with you. If I were to make jewelry and knives out of his bones would you accept them?"

"...For me to wear and use. Yes."

~

Danny freaking out about just killing and kinda eating someone: I'm in so much trouble!

Jason behind him fixing his appearance: "Well hello there handsome come by here often?"

~

Joker bumping into Danny: "ahAHA you will make a good experiment!"

Danny is high as a kite and getting the munchies: "I didn't know I could order food with my mind!"

Joker: "Whut-"

~

Jason seeing Danny absolutely wrecking Jokers shit: *Ghost Instincts Activated*

~

Jason falling fast for Danny without even knowing his name: "Can I pretty please kiss you?"

Danny realizing what's going on but still being clueless: "Does that mean you will accept these gifts made from Jokers bones?"

Jason's Ghost Instincts rising to a fever pitch: "I'm going to woo the fuck out of ya and then we'll get married then we'll fu-"

~

Danny's Ghostly Instincts being connected to his 'Protection' & Jason's to his 'Revenge' showing these kind of specific gestures towards them is incredibly romantic.

~

Jason and Danny's relationship basically:

~

~

~

#They're like Morticia & Gomez absolutely smitten for each other

#Jason brings a crying & beaten up GIW who has been stalking Danny

#Danny almost swooned

#They start flirting with each other while standing on top of the GIW dude

#Jason's goons are happy that their boss found 'The One' apparently but can they please stop eyefucking each other while they're there and-

~

Just an Idea

[inkskinned]

i think probably magic is real.

the thing is that i was a teacher for a long time and sometimes i come back to this moment in the classroom where a 7 year old asked me are mermaids real? and i stared at her and had no idea how to answer.

for a really long time i just assumed that glow-in-the-dark paint/etc was a result of something made in a lab. i just recently found out that a specific mine in new jersey that just has rocks that do that naturally and it sent me for a loop about stuff.

because first of all - let's be honest, all of us: if there was going to be a naturally-occurring location for uv-activated glow-in-the-dark rocks? it would have to be in New Jersey. that's just the place that makes the most sense for that to happen. probably 10 thousand years ago cavemen were like. "oh this place is gonna be new jersey one day. this has new jersey energy."

the rocks only glow in the presence of uv light and are otherwise just normal rocks. in lord of the rings, there's a special sword that glows in the presence of orcs. it is magic, except that's a real thing that exists (and exists, as we have discussed, in new jersey, of all places). i guess maybe this implies orcs give off uv light.

yeah, okay. magic is just science. i know all the stuff about how ghosts are probably just caused by vibrating pipes. i knew about how there's a reason-for-all-of-this. but what do you mean that there's rocks that give you poison damage if you touch them. what do you mean that we live on the same planet as electric eels. what do you mean that a battery just, like - stores power?

and i don't know. in 20 years maybe they will find a mermaid but they will say something like well she's technically not a mermaid she's this other species, she has whiskers and not hair. and i will have to travel back in time and tell a 7 year old not technically, but there's something that is like a mermaid.

and she will look at me and think that what i am saying is science means magic isn't real and what i am actually saying is science is our word for why magic works. and then i will teach her about uv rocks, and new jersey. i will tell her to be a scientist, which is the same thing as being a wizard. there is probably a reason why sci-fi and fantasy are often grouped together. it is very lucky to be here, i think. if you squint, the improbability of it all - it does kind of feel like spellwork.

[justanotherbirdbrain-blog]

A Workshop for Creating Magical/ Fictional Crystals: A Guide from a Geologist

Hi folks, its me, here to talk about fictional writing again! Today I'm just tackling the idea of magical stones/mana stones by looking at existing minerals today and some neat properties that they have, and how you can apply these things to a fictional world. The goal is mainly to help you if you are stuck trying to come up with a unique magic system, or a unique identification/characteristic of your mineral.

First Things First: Mineral Shapes

I am exhausted, petered out, down-right fatigued by seeing every mineral depicted with having the crystal structure of calcite and quartz. There are soooooo many cooler, more interesting crystal structures, don't you think you would stop and take a look at a perfect cube in nature? It is completely unsettling.

Second: Color

Color within minerals can either be really important, or not important at all! It is your choice to decide if color is going to be something that means something to your mineral. But what are some times when the color is important? Well.... there are some elements that are called chromophores, this classification just indicates that these elements, when present, will determine the color of whatever they are in. So, if you wanted to treat mana like a chromophore, you could say, "Oh everything that contains mana turns green!" This could mean that regardless of the mineral, if that mineral is a specific color, it means it contains mana. This concept is exciting because you can just stop here and use minerals that already exist! You can also use it as an indicator for a magical ore! Chromophores are typically metals, so if you are making a new metal weapon, making the ore of that metal a unique color would make a lot of sense!

However, your mineral can also just be every color of the rainbow like quartz and perhaps that's what makes identifying your mana stones elusive and create an illusion of scarcity that your character can solve.

There are other things that can change the colors of minerals, like radiation damage, and electron exchange, but I think that is beyond what would be helpful! So lets talk about some unique color properties that happen in nature that seem magical in the first place! Maybe you don't need to design a mana stone, but you want a unique gemstone that only the royal family passes down or something (IDK).

The first one is the alexandrite effect! This is where a mineral can change color in natural light vs. incandescent light. (the mineral itself is not changing, but the lights contain different amounts of different colors that then get absorbed by the stone). Even if you don't use electricity in your fictional world, you could have the colors change in the presence of light magic. This could create fun misunderstandings about what the mineral is reacting to!

Pleochroism

Pleochroism is something that most minerals have, it is frequently used to help identify minerals in thin sections, however minerals are usually not pleochroic enough for it to be visible to the naked eye! Pleochroism is just a fancy name to describe the change in how light is absorbed based on the angle of the mineral! So if you scroll up to the first image where I showed a lot of crystal shapes, most of them have angles where they are longer and shorter! This will effect the way light travels in the crystal. Tanzanite is a popular mineral that does this.

Photochromism

This is when a mineral will change color (in a reversible way) when exposed to UV light (or sunlight), I am not going to go too into the details of why this is happening because it would require me to read some research papers and I just don't feel like it. The mineral that is best known for this is Hackmanite!

Alright! These are all the really cool color effects that might inspire you or maybe not, but now I am going to talk about how you might find your minerals within a rock!

When I see a lot of magical caves/mines, typically I see them with some variation of a geode honestly, but most minerals are not found like that! Now I am sure most of you guys have seen a geode, so I will not really talk about those, but I will talk briefly about porphyroblasts which is when the mineral grows larger than the minerals around it, this happens in metamorphic minerals!

sorry random stranger, but this is an image of garnets inside a finer-grained rock at gore mountain in New York!

Another way you might find minerals is in a pegmatite! This is when all minerals are really large! This is a formed from really slow crystalizing magma!

But something else to think about is that your mineral might just be massive, it doesn't have to have distinct crystals, it may be similar to jadeite where small grains grow together which leaves it looking smooth and seamless! A note about all of these is that you would have to mine into the rock to find these, there would not be any natural caves in these rocks! Caves are only ever really formed in limestones and maybe marbles (rocks that react with acid).

How can your characters identify these minerals?

Typically when you are out in the field you will look to see what type of rocks the minerals are found in (The overall texture of the rock will tell you how it formed). If you know how the rock formed, it will narrow down the amount of minerals you need to think about by quite a bit! Next, you are going to look closely at it and observe its crystal structure, does it have an obvious crystal? if so what is the general shape? If it is broken, how did it break? Did it fracture like glass or did it break along uniform planes. Some minerals have a thing called cleavage (breaks along planes of weakness). If a mineral exhibits this habit, it will again help narrow this down. Next we can look at color. Color can be misleading, because minerals like quartz can be any color imaginable, but minerals like olivine will always be green! The next thing your character can do is test for hardness, minerals all have a specific hardness that can help identify it as well.

After you go through all of this, your mineral might have some special property! This could be magnetism, fluorescence, reactions to acid, or any of the color changing effects I mentioned above! Other than that, your character can take it back to a lab and do a number of things to identify it, but the most typical thing would be for them to make a thin section (very thin piece of the rock) and observe it under a cross polarized microscope!

On that note folks! I hope this helped in some way in thinking of new magic mineral properties! I have other guides that explore some different fictional worldbuilding issues you might run into, but if you have any topics you would like me to cover please that I haven't mentioned already, let me know!

[tuesdayisfordancing]

“Communicate” is almost entirely meaningless advice 90% of the time so here’s a few slightly more specific but still pretty general ideas:

You might be making assumptions you don’t realize you’re making about what another party knows, remembers, or understands. Saying “obvious” things helps clear some of these up. Of course even while making an effort to do this you still might not notice things you’re assuming go without saying; don’t beat yourself up when you discover one of these, discovering it means you’re improving! It’s like playing Zelda: the more you uncover the more you get a sense for where and how to look for things. (Disclaimer: I’ve never played Zelda.)

You can take breaks. I’m thinking of personal relationships here but there’s probably a way to apply a similar concept to other relationships. You can say talking more is too much right now, that you’re tired, that you need to process, that you won’t be at your best if you keep going. One thing that can be really great in a personal relationship is asking if the other person is up for hitting pause and doing something you enjoy together for a while (they might not be up for it, be prepared). You can also hit pause and take some time to yourself.

Communication isn’t just for problems! Tell people when you like and appreciate what they’re doing!

Okay this one is probably as useless or at least almost as “communicate” but: contextualize but don’t over-contextualize. I have made people think something is a bigger or more urgent deal than it is by not starting with “overall this is fine/I like X/whatever” and I have had people entirely mentally reverse my point because I spent longer on the disclaimer than the point.

Anyway. Communication is an actual set of skills that you don’t just magically improve by hearing that “communication is key” often enough. It doesn’t just take effort it also takes learning, trial and error, examples! And best practices for communication vary among people, cultures, specific relationships, etc. This has been Pet Peeves With Tuesday.

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : IN THE COMFORT OF HIS EMBRACE : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff

 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: Unable to sleep, you seek comfort in Logan's bed. He welcomes you warmly, and his steady presence and gentle conversation help you relax, allowing you to finally drift off to sleep.

THE MOONLIGHT FILTERED THROUGH THE CURTAINS, CASTING A GENTLE GLOW ACROSS THE ROOM. The clock on the nightstand ticked softly, each second stretching into eternity as you lay in bed, restless and wide awake. No matter how many times you shifted or how many deep breaths you took, sleep eluded you. Frustration mingled with the quiet night, making the shadows on the walls seem even darker.

Finally, you couldn’t stand it any longer. You slipped out of bed with deliberate care, not wanting to disturb the quiet of the house. The hallway was dimly lit, and you moved quietly towards Logan’s room. As you reached his door, you hesitated, your hand hovering over the knob. The idea of waking him up felt like an intrusion, but your need for comfort was stronger.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked gently before pushing the door open just enough to peek inside. Logan’s room was sparsely decorated, but it exuded a comforting, lived-in warmth. His silhouette was barely visible under the covers, his breathing slow and even.

“Logan,” you whispered, trying to sound calm despite the knot of anxiety in your chest. You took a tentative step closer and gently shook his shoulder. He stirred, groaning softly, before his eyes opened and found yours. He blinked sleepily, his gaze softening with recognition.

“You okay?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

“I... I can’t sleep,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been tossing and turning for hours. I just... I didn’t know where else to go.”

Logan’s expression shifted from groggy concern to understanding. Without a word, he shifted to one side, making space in the bed beside him. “Come here,” he said, his voice low and reassuring. You didn’t need any further invitation. You slipped into the bed, the cool sheets giving way to the reassuring warmth of his body.

As you settled next to him, Logan’s arm instinctively wrapped around you, pulling you closer. You buried your face into his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat had a calming effect, slowly erasing the restless tension that had kept you awake.

“Sorry for bothering you,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

“Don’t be,” Logan said, his tone gentle but firm. “If you need me, I’m here. No apologies necessary.”

You let out a soft sigh, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “I just... I couldn’t shake this feeling of restlessness. I didn’t want to be alone.”

Logan’s fingers gently stroked your back, his touch soothing and steady. “It’s alright. You’re not alone now,” he said, his voice a low murmur. “What’s on your mind?”

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, finding comfort in the steady presence beside you. “It’s nothing specific, really. Just one of those nights where everything seems to spiral out of control. And then I start thinking about everything I have to do, and it just... snowballs.”

Logan nodded, his hand continuing its gentle rhythm on your back. “I get it. Sometimes the quiet of the night makes everything seem bigger than it is. But you’re here with me now. Let’s just focus on that.

You nodded against his chest, feeling the tension slowly drain from your body. The room was filled with a peaceful silence, punctuated only by the soft sounds of your breathing and the occasional creak of the bed. Logan’s presence was a steady anchor, his warmth enveloping you like a cocoon.

As minutes passed, you found your thoughts slowing down, your mind growing quieter with each passing second. Logan’s gentle touch and the rhythmic beating of his heart created a sense of calm that you had been craving all night.

“Logan?” you whispered, your voice barely a murmur.

“Yeah?” he replied, his tone soft and attentive.

“Thank you. For being here. I really needed this.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his embrace tightening slightly. “Anytime. You don’t have to thank me. I’m glad I could help.”

The comfort of his words, coupled with the soothing rhythm of his breathing, lulled you towards sleep. You felt your eyes growing heavy, the exhaustion of the sleepless night finally catching up with you. Logan’s steady presence was a constant reassurance, a promise of safety and companionship.

As sleep began to claim you, you could hear Logan’s voice, soft and soothing. “Get some rest. I’ve got you.”

And with those comforting words echoing in your mind, you finally surrendered to the embrace of sleep, finding peace in the warmth and safety of Logan’s arms.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8

If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know🫶

[balioc]

Looking at the world from a manager's perspective, you can productively model the pool of workers as being divided into a few basic groups, which are defined and characterized by their driving motivations.

Insert all the usual disclaimers for this sort of thing - this is the roughest type of rough typology. I pulled these categories out of my raw intuition, and possibly a few more would crop up with some additional thought. In reality, the boundaries of these categories are incredibly fuzzy, and almost every individual is actually going to be motivated by a complicated mix of all the relevant motivations; we're talking REALLY SIMPLE HEURISTICS here. Etc.

There have been other well-known worker typologies that share a lot in common with my thoughts here; this is mostly not novel, it's mostly meant to refine a few ideas for particular purposes.

Hustlers are motivated by concrete personal advantage. Most commonly, and most straightforwardly, they want money - as much of it as they can get. They may also be interested in fame, idiosyncratic perks, etc. They do whatever they have to do in order to get what they want.

No surprise: you see huge preponderances of these guys in fields that provide outsize concrete rewards, e.g. finance, the upper echelons of management, etc. But not every natural-born Hustler is in a position to enter a glitzy high-paying field, and in fact you find Hustlers all throughout society and all throughout the economy, finding or making hustles wherever they go.

Having Hustlers working for you is mostly pretty great. They get shit done. They can be induced to work incredibly hard - probably harder than anyone else, under most circumstances - and they'll shank their own mothers if the price is right. If you need anything really important from them, anything at all, it's just a matter of bribing them enough.

...they will also, of course, cheerfully shank you if the price is right. Hustlers aren't the only wellsprings of institutional politics and infighting, but they're the most dangerous ones; they're always potential rivals to everyone around them. Also, you need to keep the tangible rewards flowing in a steady stream in order to get anything out of them, or else they'll put most of their effort into jumping ship (one way or another).

Craftsmen are motivated by the desire to do good work in their chosen fields, for its own sake and for the sake of their treasured self-image as people who do good work.

As you'd expect, for the most part, they're excellent workers and should be prized. But they're not perfect workers. Common weaknesses and downsides include:

They tend to have their own ideas about How Things Should Get Done; they're often resistant to externally-imposed product/service requirements or process changes (and bad at implementing those things) (no matter how important or well-conceived they are), and they're very resistant to "just get it out the door, right now done is better than good."

Being driven chiefly by internal motivation is great, but sometimes it's useful to be able to push things along with external motivators, and Craftsmen are pretty resistant to those. They don't like working more or harder than they're naturally inclined to work, they mostly sneer at carrots, and sticks make them sad and unproductive.

It's important to note that, while noteworthy skill within a field correlates with having a Craftsman temperament and motivation suite - for obvious reasons - those things are not identical at all. Plenty of Craftsmen are bad at their jobs, or just average, and plenty of the best workers are most motivated by things other than the Excellence of the Work Itself.

Fanatics are a relatively rare and specialized group, whom you find mostly within a few specific sorts of culturally-valorized fields. They're motivated by a desire to be part of something Important and Good in a Broader Sense: to Save the World, or some smaller-bore version of that.

They make amazing front-line soldiers, in the sorts of institutions that have "front-line soldiers." They work super hard, and you don't even need to bribe them, you just need to keep them hopped up on inspiration.

The big problem with them is that they're mostly motivated by a feeling - the feeling of Being Righteous - and it's not easy to control where they get that feeling, in any kind of precise way. They're just as resistant to external motivators as Craftsmen are, or even more so, but they're also not being guided by an ideal of effective quality. (No, not even if their chosen cause is theoretically all about an ideal of effective quality, hem hem.) They will happily waste vast amounts of time and money doing useless things, or even counterproductive things, so long as they're engaged in tasks that hit the right psychological buttons for them. There's also a constant risk that a Fanatic will decide that his employer is unrighteous, or that one of his coworkers is unrighteous, and start an internal conflict; the risk scales in a more-than-linear fashion with the number of Fanatics you keep around.

The biggest group, unsurprisingly, is the Normies. In most fields, it is much the biggest group. Normies are motivated by the desire to be members in good standing of their communities, to have positive relationships with the people around them, and to live up to basic norms and expectations.

Managerial skills, in the traditional sense, are incredibly important with Normies. If you want them to do good work for you - and you should want that, as a manager, you've almost certainly got a whole bunch of them - not only do you have to keep them pointed in the right direction, you have to make sure that they're supporting each other. With Hustlers, you just have to throw money at them (and avoid their power plays); with Craftsmen, you just have to let them do their thing, and occasionally badger them into giving you what you need; with Fanatics, you just have to be inspirational; but with Normies, you have to lead, and construct a productive community. You have to set reasonable, achievable norms and expectations that will get you what you need.

This wouldn't be complete if I didn't talk about the Defectors. The Defectors are motivated by not working. They don't want to be there, they resent having to do their jobs, and their primary goal is to shirk as much as possible. They will, by default, put much more effort into shirking than into their assigned tasks.

Obviously, managers don't want to have to deal with them, for good reason. But they're out there, in large numbers - not always in the places and fields where you'd expect to find them - and learning to manage them is sometimes more viable than trying to get rid of them. ("Moving Heaven and Earth to find them jobs that will change their attitude" is often a good plan, although of course it's not always possible and not always worth it.)

Crucially, Defectors are not Normies. If you start with the assumption that the average baseline worker is lazy and sour, you will make some incredibly stupid decisions. There are some fields where, for structural reasons, you can expect that a very large number of your workers will be Defectors; this is a huge and complicated challenge, well beyond the scope of this post, and good luck to you if you have to handle it, but it's not the default.

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

Once you have those categories in your head, and can play with them, a number of obvious-seeming ideas present themselves. Just a couple, for now:

Most high-level executives are Hustlers, or have strong Hustler tendencies, for obvious reasons. Most of the people around them are Hustlers, or have strong Hustler tendencies. This means that they tend to overweight the Hustler outlook, by a lot, when they try to model what their workers are like. More specifically, I'd wager that a lot of them intuitively divide the world into "good workers" ( = Hustlers) and "bad workers" ( = Defectors). This will lead to a heavy overreliance on tangible rewards, a systematic shortchanging of community-building, etc. Which is in fact just what we see.

In particular - crucially - Hustlers and Defectors are the only worker types who ever become more productive under heavy stress. Hustlers actually benefit from it, because it raises the stakes of the game that they're already playing. (If you succeed, you'll be king of the world! If you fail, you'll be shark food! Go go go!) Defectors suffer terribly from stress, of course, but they can sometimes be spooked into doing their jobs as opposed to doing nothing, and sometimes that's the best/easiest way to get something out of them. But stress is terrible for everyone else. Craftsmen lose their focus. Fanatics lose their hope. It's worst of all for Normies, because they take all their cues from the vibes around them; they're productive when they learn to associate work with comfort and happiness, and when you fill their working world with frantic desperation, you just put them in a permanent cringe state.

stop trying to pit your Normies against each other in competitions for status and rewards dear God what are you stupid

To some extent, you can control your institution by controlling what types of workers you have. But only to some extent. There are only so many Hustlers and Craftsmen to go around, and if you want them, you will have to (a) be able to identify them reliably on little information [HINT: you are probably very bad at this], and (b) provide them with what they want [tangible rewards / comfortable security and interesting work]. "We are going to employ only the good special people" is feasible if you're an outfit of four workers; at a dozen, it's already become a stretch; at a few hundred, uh, pfffffffft. If you want to operate at scale, you need to be able to make Normies do good work, there is no substitute for it.

[ellecdc]

Helloo Elle!

I have a request for a James fic, basically in class they get to see the mirror of erised and when James looks he sees reader and goes “can you move?” Or something??

Love ur fics<33

this was such a cute idea! thanks for the prompt, lovie <3

James Potter x fem!reader who look into the Mirror of Erised [1.4k words]

CW: friends/classmates to lovers, partners on a school project, reader is not in Gryffindor

“Potter! You’re going to get us into trouble.” You hissed quietly, though you stuck dutifully behind him under the invisibility cloak as the two of you carried on down the corridors.

“You’re going to get us into trouble if you don’t keep quiet.” He countered, though he wasn’t sure he really wanted you to be quiet - he found himself to be quite fond of your voice if he was being particularly honest. 

“Tell me again why we’re doing this?” You whispered, and he was sure that the point of his neck where your breath brushed against would feel tingly for the rest of the evening.

James scoffed at your question, though he knew you could tell there was no real heat behind it at the way you swatted playfully at his arm. “What’s the point of writing about the Mirror of Erised if we’ve never even seen it?”

“People write papers on things they’ve never seen all the time, James.” You responded firmly. “Merlin, the Philosopher's stone, the existence of nargles…” Your voice trailed off at the end, and James didn’t even have to turn to look at you to know that your brows were furrowed and your nose was scrunched up in confusion as you recalled Pandora Rosier’s last presentation in your Care for Magical Creatures class. 

“Would you like to do the honours?” He asked you then, pulling the cloak off the two of you now that you were stationed in front of the unused classroom that the mirror was being stored in.

You rolled your eyes at his grandeur but cast an alohomora at the door with a smile on your face nonetheless. 

The candles that lit up automatically at your arrival did nothing to quell the almost cold greyness of the room - the candles, the two of you, and the cloth covered object being the only things seemingly radiating any warmth.

“Feels like I’m about to look at a boggart, not the Mirror of Erised…” You muttered quietly, peering around the room with your arms locked around your middle as you subconsciously leaned closer to James’ side. 

“Where’s your sense of adventure, gorgeous?” James teased you, causing you to narrow your eyes at him in what he was certain was your best attempt at a sneer. 

“We tend to leave that up to your kind, Mr. Gryffindor.” You volleyed, but your attempt at an insult merely caused James to beam a smile at you. 

He might have been imagining it, but he was sure that you didn’t seem too disappointed at the outcome. 

“That’s gotta be it there, yeah?” You said then, gesturing towards the tall blanket-covered piece of furniture standing along a wall opposite of stacked chairs and desks.

“What do you say? Ladies first?” James asked as he stood beside the mirror, holding the blanket in his hands as he raised his eyebrows at you in wait.

“Alright…” You said, clearly trying for levity but James couldn’t help but notice that you rolled your shoulders in an attempt to ready yourself.

James pulled at the cloth covering the mirror with a flourish, which he immediately regretted when the room became a cloud of dust that was only enhanced by the gentle candle light.

“Merlin's tits, sorry angel.” James coughed as he tried to fan the dust away from his face. 

With a flick of his wand in an attempt to vanish the dust, James also accidentally vanished the cloth meaning whoever put it in here would be aware of someone interfering with the magical artefact.

James took off his glasses and used his shirt to wipe at the lenses (ignoring the internal berating he was receiving from both his mum and Remus for not using the cloth specifically made for just this) before returning them to his face.

With the dust gone and James’ glasses righted, he spotted you standing in the centre of the room staring at your reflection with a slightly furrowed brow and your mouth hanging open in a silent gasp.

You schooled your expression quickly in a way that James was certain had he not lived with the likes of Sirius “I don’t have feelings for Remus” Black and Remus “I don’t have feelings” Lupin for as long as he had, he wouldn’t have noticed it at all.

“What d’you see? Anything good?” He asked, leaning against the golden frame with all the blaseness he could muster; he was really quite excited to look in it himself. 

You smirked over at him and James told himself that the thump in his chest was from his excitement at getting to lock eyes on the infamous Mirror of Erised. “I see us getting nothing short of an Outstanding on this assignment.”

“With that beautiful brain of yours? There was never any doubt.” James replied haughtily. “Okay, my turn.” He continued quickly, moving in front of you to peer into the mirror. 

He waited for the image to shift; to see himself winning the Quidditch World Cup, to see himself with a partner and children in an idyllic countryside house, to see himself pulling off the biggest prank that the Marauders ever imagined.

But you wouldn’t move.

“Y/N, can you move, please?” He asked quickly, eyes not moving from the mirror as he waited for you to step out of the reflection.

“What do you mean?” You responded, voice sounding far away, and James felt his heart fall right out of his arse when he realised that your lips never moved in the reflection as you said it, and what exactly that meant for him. 

Sure enough, you appeared in his field of vision, moving to stand beside the mirror before gently leaning against it as you stared James head on; he moved his nervous gaze back to the mirror only to be accosted with much the same view in his reflection. 

“What do you see, James?” You asked quietly then, and if James wasn’t currently having a bit of an existential crisis, he may have picked up the taunting in your tone.

But the reflection of you was looking at him with nothing short of love, while the real you was looking at him with something that looked…knowing? And also full of mischief. 

“What is it that you desire most?” You continued; tone taking on a nearly sultry quality as you slowly made your way over to him.

But he wouldn’t look at you, couldn’t look at you; not when he had the image of you standing beside him with eyes full of care and admiration, not when he’d be looking away from that and towards what might be disdain, discomfort, or even disgust. 

“I think the mirror kind of said it all, didn’t it?” He whispered back, knowing he’d essentially outed himself. 

You hummed in acknowledgement as you finally made it to his side. “Why won’t you look away, James?”

“This is preferable.”

“Preferable?” 

“Right.”

“She’s looking at you with love, isn’t she?” You asked gently. 

James finally closed his eyes at that. 

“That’s how you were looking at me, too.”

His eyes flew right back open as he turned to stare at you - the real you.

And there you were, the real you, looking at him knowingly, and accusingly, and nervously, and…lovingly.

“You saw me too?” He whispered.

“I saw you too.” You agreed softly. 

“Oh thank Merlin.” James groaned as he pulled you in tightly against him and rested his forehead against yours. “I thought this whole thing was about to go tits up.”

You snorted in laughter as you linked your arms around his middle in return. “The rest of this assignment would’ve gotten really awkward.” You agreed, and the two of you stood there in front of the Mirror of Erised, neither of you looking at the mirror, but rather breathing in exactly what it was that each of you desired most. 

“Think we got what we needed, James?” You murmured into his chest, referring to your extra-credit work of actually experiencing the magical artefact that the two of you were writing about.

But as he relished the warmth of your body which was slotted against his as though the two of you were puzzle pieces created to fit together, he had no problem agreeing that, yeah, the two of you got what you needed.

[captain-huggy-bear]

The Sleeves

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Short Fem!Reader

Warnings: Quinn thinking you're hot af, so slightly mature in that sense but nothing extreme.

Summary: Jersey sleeves are just a little too long for you.

Notes: Reader is described as short but not a specific height. I, a short person, could be wrong here, but I assume the taller you are the longer your arms are hense the height focus in this fic. Also it's a 43 Hughes jersey not Quinn's own one because we're all different sizes and I don't want anyone to be unable to imagine it, y'know????

Had this idea cause my Jack Jersey has super long sleeves and it makes me feel safe and silly (I'm getting a Quinn jersey for X-mas from my brother and i'm very excited)

It's baffling actually, when you really think about it, that you'd been dating a pro-Hockey player for nearly 8 months and hadn't owned a single jersey until now. Sure, Quinn had tried to convince you to just borrow one of his, his desire to see you in his jersey practically an obsession, but half the time they were sweat stained and stinky and you kind of just wanted one designed for you and your body. So you'd gone to his games in just your normal clothes, sometimes you wore the stupid t-shirt Jack and Luke got you with Quinn's face on it for your birthday, but you'd never worn a hockey jersey.

This had seemed a shame and you'd decided enough was enough. You went to all Quinn's home games and tried to go to as many away games as possible, you thought that surely you should, as a dutiful girlfriend wear a #43 jersey. It felt wrong, somehow, not to have at least one, to wear one at least once.

So you'd bought one, taken your time considering which version to get, which size you preferred. You hadn't told Quinn because any time you wanted to buy something for yourself he always did it for you, claiming he had more money than he knew what to do with. As sweet as it was, sometimes you wanted to spend your own hard earned money. Plus, you'd wanted it to be a surprise. It was practically on his bucket list at this point, it felt like something...big.

So you'd kept it quiet, bought a #43 Hughes black skate jersey in a size just this side of too big, oversized for the comfort factor. What you hadn't anticipated was how you felt wearing it...or Quinn's reaction.

It was just fabric, just a jersey but the moment you slipped it on you felt...safe. The fabric was soft against your skin, not tight or claustrophobic and the sleeves...oh the sleeves were your favourite part. You were short, that was a fact of life, you hadn't grown upwards since you were 14 and you'd made your peace with it. Didn't really have a choice, given that you spent all your time around hockey players. Some of whom were absolute giants, Meyers came straight to mind. Quinn was considered a smaller player in the business and even he made you feel short. Being short, had the effect though of making the sleeves of your jersey gigantic.

You couldn't really describe the sheer joy you felt when the sleeves went past your fingertips absolutely swallowing your hands. You felt like a little kid again, you felt comfy, and safe. Maybe it was scratching some sort of anxiety itch in your brain or maybe it was that you'd missed this feeling from when you were a kid, the feeling of being so so small that everything else felt giant, but you loved it either way.

Your plan was to hide the jersey until Quinn's next game, ready to surprise him when he looked for you during warmups, ready for him to realise you were finally wearing his name and number. Something he'd been not so subtly pushing for months every single time he conveniently left a jersey out next to your game day clothes before he left for the rink.

The moment he left for the game after a goodbye kiss and some I love yous, you'd put the jersey he'd left on the bed away (no matter how many times he washed it it still had the lingering smell of hockey...) and reached into the back of the wardrobe, underneath a series of boxes and miscellaneous items, for your own. You'd hidden it well, so far back, it was actually a struggling to get to.

You'd slipped it on over your jumper and layers, letting the sleeves fall over your fingertips. That familiar safe, giddy feeling filling you as you twirled in a circle in front of the mirror before dropping your shoulders, closing your eyes and just enjoying it. There was something about the physical sensation that was enjoyable, the way it felt, the sense of comfort it brought, but it went past that. It felt good to look in the mirror and see Quinn's number on your arms, across your back, his surname plastered in the large font. It felt good to wear a reminder of him.

You opened your eyes after a few moments of flapping the long sleeves about, a childish joy in the flap of fabric. Your sight snagging in the mirror on the doorframe behind you, Quinn leaning a shoulder against it, kit bag at his feet. He had softest smile on his face, the sort of smile that made his eyes crinkle gently and had his teeth poking out just so.

You spin around to face him startled, not expecting him to be back. Your fingers meeting and twisting together, hidden beneath the lengths of sleeve fabric.

"Did you...did you forget something?"

It's obvious to him that you're trying to avoid the elephant in the room, the surprise he's clearly ruined. It's not his jersey, but it is and it's all he's wanted to see you in for months now...Fuck, you look good in his jersey. You've brought it in a size that's just the right sort of oversized, swallowing familiar curves under layers of black, yellow and red fabric. How you make something that hides every part of you look so good he doesn't really understand, but he thinks that maybe that just says more about how he feels about you than anything else.

Your hands are invisible, swallowed by fabric and his name and number across your back were practically searerd into his retina. A memory pressed into the pages of his mind. It's stupid, possessive, ridiculous, caveman-ish but, fuck, he likes that you're saying you're his, likes that everyone can see it. That it's his name across your back.

"My number looks good on you..." Quinn bites down on his bottom lip, tilts his head to the side as his eyes trail over you. The way he's looking at you, you'd think you were stood there naked, not swallowed in fabric. It makes your cheeks warm.

"Quinn..." You let out and embarrassed whine, hands coming up to cover your face as he trails his way closer, feet padding softly across the carpet. His gear forgotten in the doorway, the sense of urgency to get the last piece he forgot and get to the rink, gone. Game? What game?

You feel his presence first, feet stopping close to your own, his form towering over you as he wraps his hands gently around your wrists and tugs them free from your face. He's practically grinning at you, that one strand of brunet hair falling across his brow as he leans down towards you.

"The sleeves too, you look cute in it, fuck..." He tugs on the ends of the sleeves, examining the way your hands are swallowed by the fabric. The cute wiggle of them from underneath before being swallowed whole.

"This for me, pretty girl?"

You nod, feeling oddly shy in front of him as his eyes keep following your form like he can't quiet get enough. It's surreal, you've had boyfriends who didn't even look at you like that when you were dolled to the nines, you're just in a jersey, some ordinary clothes, everything covered, nothing special, "...It was supposed to be a surprise...for tonight."

"Ah," he fills in the blanks. He's ruined it by coming back unexpectedly, because he forgot his stupid mouthguard of all things. He imagines it though, being on the ice, looking for you like he always does, his eyes gravitating towards you like he's stuck in your orbit. He can see the way you'd look in the lights of the rink, his number proudly displayed. Could see the way he'd probably stop dead on the ice, probably get a bunch of shit from the guys, can see Petey shoving him with a laugh, but he'd not care at all because you're finally wearing his jersey and he's been waiting for this for months.

"Can you, uh, never take it off?" he laughs, tugging you closer, arms wrapping around you as his fingers trail across the letters making up his name on the back. Memorising the feel of it, his name on you, finally.

"Quinn..."

"What? You look...fuck, you look so good in my jersey, baby, like...unreal..." He means it and you know he means it because he's got that sparkle in his eyes that screams his feelings out loud without a single word.

"...you have a game to get to.." you mumble, face pressing into his chest, trying to hide from him because only Quinn can make you quite this bashful after this length of time together. Only Quinn can seemingly disarm you completely.

He presses a kiss to the top of your hair, cheek pushing against the crown of your head as he rocks you side to side.

"Mmm, you're not gonna take this off, right? You're still going to wear it to the game for me, baby?" There's a little slither of fear that he might have embarrassed you, that you'll hide the jersey away somewhere and he'll never see you in it again.

"...Yeah, i'll still wear it for you..."

He thinks this might just be what he wants for the rest of his life. You in his jersey, you with his name across your back, you...with the name you might one day share proudly taking up space for everyone to see.

In that moment, he realises, he's a complete fucking goner for you. He's well and truly fucked in the best sort of way.