#if no one is watching it or thinking about it at a certain point in time‚ then at that point in time this story is incomplete

[lizzieolseniskinda]

TOM RIDDLE - soulmates don’t exist PT. 3

part one | two | three - x FEM!reader (POC!friendly)

(requests open)

SUMMARY: everything changes for you when snape gives you a certain memory. will you be able to do the task that dumbledore has given you?

WORD COUNT: 4921

GENRE: angst-ish (but not really)

CONTENT WARNING: soulmate (soulbound) & time travel au, english is not my first language, i took names of professor in harry's time (it's easier that way)

NOT PROOFREAD :D - thank you for 200 followers 😭😭🫶

you were walking through the hogwarts courtyard, bundled up in your robes as the wind carried a hint of the colder months that were coming. the sun filtered through the canopy of orange and red, it was a cold day without the sun. as you approached the gryffindor common room after breakfast, you spotted lucas - tall, with his messy black curls and easygoing grin, leaning casually against the wall

"there you are!" he called out, pushing off the wall and strolling over to you. "i've been look for you. fancy coming with me to hogsmeade? i've got some things to pick up, and i thought you could use a break from all the studying."

you raised an eyebrow, interested. "and by 'things', you mean what exactly?"

"important stuff!" lucas replied with mock seriousness. "like sweets from honeydukes and a new quill, since i keep losing mine. and, of course, we have to stop at zonko's - can't leave without some supplies for our next prank on maeve."

you let out a laugh, feeling the tension of the past few days years slip away. you figured you could use a shopping day - it was a saturday after all, you could just study after. "sounds like a plan, though i'm not sure if maeve would be happy with another one of your 'masterpieces'."

"she'll survive. besides, i've got a new idea that'll totally blow her mind, just wait and see," lucas nudged you, playfully.

as the you made your way down the long, winding path to hogsmeade, a sleek black cat caught your eye. it seemed to be lingering just out of reach, you'd seen the cat a few times today, always trailing a few paces behind, watching you with its bright, curious green eyes. it had followed you from the common room to the courtyard, through the grounds, and now as walking behind you and lucas as though it belonged with the two of you.

"look at that," you murmured, glancing over your shoulder at the cat. "it's been following me this enitre day."

lucas turned around, narrowing his eyes slightly at the feline. "huh, that's a little weird, don't you think? cats don't usually follow people around for no reason."

you crouched down and extended a hand toward the cat. to your surprise, it didn't hesitate. the cat padded forward and nuzzled your palm, its fluffy and soft fur was warm, despite the chill in the air. you smiled, scratching it behind the ears.

"i think it likes me," you said, looking up at lucas. "maybe it's a stray. what do you think?"

lucas crossed his arms and looked at the cat with a suspicious look. "it's a little too good to be true, don't you think? a mysterious black follow you around hogwarts. you know there are loads of horror stories about witches using cats as spies, right?"

"you're paranoid," you rolled your eyes at him, but smiled.

"i'm cautious," lucas corrected, though there was a small teasing glint in his eyes. "but if you're set on keeping it, we should make sure it's not... i don't know, an animagus or something. better safe than sorry, right?"

"you think someone's been using this little thing to spy on me?"

lucas shrugged, but he was already pulling out his wand. "could be, perhaps. there's a simple charm to check for such things, it won't hurt the cat - you have my promise."

you stood up and took a step back, "okay, but i'm telling you, it's just a normal cat."

lucas raised his wand, pointing it at the cat as he muttered the incantation under his breath. a faint blue light shimmered from the tip of his wand. it surrounded the cat for a moment before fading away.

you both stared at the cat in silence, holding your breath, waiting for whatever that was about to happen. but the cat just blinked up at you, then licked its paw nonchalantly.

lucas let out a breath, "phew.. what do you know? it's just a regular old cat."

"told you," you smirked, "looks like you're now stuck with me and my new pet."

the cat - as if it sensed your affectionate words, let out a soft purr and wound itself around your legs once more. you knelt down and scratched behind its ears again. a bond was already beginning to form. the only problem was the lice and many more things that was scattered across its fur.

"alright, alright," lucas said, laughing. "i suppose it shouldn't be a problem."

with the cat in tow, you and lucas continued down the path to hogsmeade. the bustling village was already alive with students and locals, shops were gleaming with fresh stock and festive decorations for upcoming festivities. as you entered honeydukes, the warmth of the shop's interior enveloped you, along with the sweet scent of sugar and chocolate.

"so, what's your go-to sweet?" lucas asked as he grabbed a basket; eyeing the chocolate frogs with heart eyes.

"maybe the peppermint toads?" you said with a grin, grabbing a small bag from the shelf. "they're the perfect balance of sweet and refreshing."

lucas pulled a face, "you're a maniac. it's all about the fizzing whizzbees."

both of you wandered through the aisles, piling your basked high with various candies - sugar quills, licorice wands, jelly slugs. at one point, lucas tried to sneak a handful of bertie bott's every flavour beans into your bag, but you caught him just in time.

"you're not tricking me into eating vomit-flavored beans again!" you narrowed your eyes at him.

lucas laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "fine, fine. i'll save it for someone else."

after stocking enough sweets to last long enough (almost a month), you and lucas headed to zonko's. the shop was just as chaotic as expected, filled with exploding fireworks, laughing gas, and all manner of joke items. lucas was in his element, darting from one display to the next with an excitement you hadn't seen since your first year at hogwarts when you'd go shopping with the weasley's.

it made you wonder if there was a weasley in this timeline, or a potter, surely there must-

"i've got it," lucas broke your trance, holding up a box nose-biting teacups. "we'll switch maeve's regular tea with one of these. can you imagine the look on her face?"

you shook your head, grinning, "you're terrible."

"hey! you're the one who agreed to come with me," he replied, winking. "makes you an accomplice."

after spending almost an hour in zonko's, you finally dragged lucas away before he bought the entire store. the two of you made your way back to hogwarts, the pockets of your robes stuffed with sweets, joke items, and - in your case - also a black cat nestled happily in your arms.

"already thought of a name?" lucas asked as you strolled along the path.

you looked down at the cat, who had fallen asleep in your arms, still purring softly. "i'm not so sure yet, maybe something like 'shadow' maybe?"

"shadow," lucas mused, "hm, not bad, fits the while 'following you everywhere' thing it's got going on."

you laughed, feeling the warmth of the cat's fur against you. despite the whirlwind of chaos that had brought you here, there was something so comforting about the small creature that had decided to be your companion.

and as you and lucas made your way back to the castle, joking and teasing each other, you felt like things were normal. like you were just a regular student at hogwarts, living in a time untouched by war and dark magic.

you went to sleep that day feeling better already with the small feline curled up at the end of your bed, purring, its little collar having a little bell that you bought in a shop.

the following morning you made your way down the main aisle, the familiar hum of chatter and clicking of cutlery filling the air. it was officially your second week at hogwarts, and though you were still getting used to the time period, you started to have a routine.

you reached the gryffindor table and spotted your friends, already gathering around a platter of toast and eggs, some of them had pancakes. they waved you over and made space as you slipped onto the bench beside them.

“morning y/n!” maeve greeted brightly, pushing a pitcher of pumpkin juice toward you. her curly hair was a little wild this morning, as if she didn’t care. “sleep well?”

you poured yourself a glass, “pretty well, all things considered. i think i’m getting used to these weird ancient beds.”

alicia snorted, her red hair falling into her eyes as she reached for a stack of pancakes. “weird ancient beds? try getting used to the weird ancient ghosts! i had nearly headless nick hovering over my bed last night telling some kind of story about jousting. i barely slept.”

“better nick than peeves, though. that poltergeist kept chucking ink at me during charms yesterday,” maeve giggled, spreading jam on a piece of toast.

you laughed, feeling a warmth in your chest that you weren’t expecting. these girls had made everything feel… lighter. the constant worry in the back of your mind lessened. here, in the morning sunlight with breakfast laid out before you, you almost forget the real reason why you were here.

“mm, speaking of charms,” mave said, glancing at her timetable. “we’ve got it again this morning. think professor flitwick will finally let us practice summoning spells?”

“i certainly hope so,” lilith spoke as quiet as ever, but her eyes were sparkling with excitement. “right? i’ve been dying to try action on something bigger. imagine being ahle to summon an entire plate of pastries!” lucas exclaimed.

“as if we need more reasons for you to get distracted during class, luca,” alicia rolled her eyes.

they continued to chatter about the day ahead, while you found your gaze wandering around. the students were busy with their own conversations, some were studying, others were yawing over cups of tea while some were also scribbling down last-minute notes for their morning classes. everything felt so normal.

when your eyes landed on the skye thing table, the illusion of normalcy shattered. you’d almost forgot about him.

tom riddle. he was sat at the center, surrounded by his usual group of admirers. he was composed, elegant even, as he buttered a piece of toast. speaking quietly to a blonde male next to him.

you looked away quickly before his group - or him, could notice you staring. “you’re awfully quiet this morning,” maeve nudged you with her elbow.

“everything alright?”

you gave a smile, hoping it didn’t look to strained. “yeah, just thinking about today.”

“don’t worry about it too much, it’s only the second week,” lucas smiled. “besides, you’re part of the group now, we’re in this together.”

“no backing out,” lilith added, and for a second you thought you’d melted

you smiled, relaxing. you felt it reach your eyes, a sense of belonging wandered around in the back of your mind.

breakfast continued and so did the conversation to more light-hearted topic. alicia’s and lilith’s excitement about the next hogsmeade trip, lucas’ plans for another elaborate prank on their dormmate, and maeve’s ongoing battle with peeves. you listened, laughed, and chimed in the conversation whenever you could.

maeve slung her bag over her shoulder and stood up. “come on, y/n. let’s see if we can make it to flitwicks class before luca drags us to the kitchens for more pastries.”

“i resent that,” lucas called over his shoulder, “but i do want more pastries.”

you smiled and grabbed your bag as you followed them out of the great hall, trying to savour the last few minutes of peace before the day truly began.

⋆｡⋆˙⟡charms class:

when you arrived at the charms class it was buzzing with quiet energy as tired students filed in, quills and textbooks clutched in their hands. you took a seat next to maeve, on your left side - behind another desk with space in between you two, sat another girl - slytherin.

"good morning, everyone! today, we will be practicing summoning charms - accio!" professor flitwick said loudly, standing on a stack of books at the front of the class, as he clapped his hands to get the attention of all the students.

an exciting murmur passed through the room. you realised how in their fifth year they learn about summoning spells in this timeline, while in harry's timeline you learned more defensive spells, or memory spells. the difference was huge.

summoning charms were pretty basic, but growing up in times like you did, you almost had no time getting used to a simple spell like accio, while you could easily obliviate someone or use the patronus charm.

"partner up!" flitwick instructed. you turned to look at maeve, who was already grinning at you.

"i've been practicing this all week," maeve said, wiggling her eyebrows. "let's see if i can summon a bigger thing than a quill this time."

"alright, but if you summon a desk by accident, you're responsible ," you teased her, setting your wand on your desk.

meave pointed her and at one of the cushions flitwick had left for practice. "accio cushion!" she shouted, her wans slicing through the air.

the cushion zoomed toward her, though it wobbled slightly before landing in her arms. "not bad, right?"

you clapped lightly, "that was impressive!"

maeve jokingly gave a little bow to you, "your turn!"

you focused on a cushion that was lying a few feet away, envisioning it flying smoothly into your hands. after a flick of your wand, you called out, "accio cushion!"

the cushion shot toward you with more speed than you expected, hitting you on your chest slightly and it knocked you back slightly. you laughed catching it just in time. maeve bursted into giggles beside you.

"well, at least it's working," you said with a grin, putting the cushion down, you glanced around the room and caught sight of tom. he was practicing at the far end of the classroom. he performed the spell flawlessly, his cushion gliding into his hands with barely a flick of his wrist. his focus was intense, almost unnerving.

you quickly turned towards maeve again, not wanting to dwell on him.

⋆｡⋆˙⟡potions class:

the potion classroom in the dungeons was dark and cool, the only source of light was flickering. a mushy and earthy scent of ingredients filled the air as you sat down next to alicia at one of the tables near the back.

"right," alicia said, pulling out her ingredients. "i've got a good feeling about today's potion. we're supposed to make something simple, so there's no way i can accidentally melt my cauldron like last week."

you snickered. "simple or not, i still think you have a way to make the easiest potions chaotic."

before alicia could respond, professor slughorn's jovial voice boomed across the room. "today, my dear students, we will be brewing a calming draught. quite useful for, uh, stressful situations." he winked at the class. "i'm sure none of you feel stressed, though."

you could feel the irony of the assignment, given how much stress you were actually under without anyone really knowing. you could probably use a calming draught or two just to get through the day.

slughorn's face was surrounded with enthusiasm as he demonstrated the first few steps, his eyes darting over the class with interest. you gathered the ingredients you needed and carefully measured out the valerian root, hellebore syrup and the fluxweed oil.

"so, you think slughorn's going to invite you to one of his little parties?" alicia asked as she ground some peppermint into powder.

you shrugged, keeping your focus on your cauldron as you stirred it clockwise. "not very likely. i don't really know what those parties are even about," you lied. you went to one meeting with hermione, and decided to never go again. simply a waste of time.

alicia raised an eyebrow, "well, slughorn kinda 'collects' talented students. you're smart, plus you're new and kind. so, i'd say you're prime slug club material."

you smiled at her, "we'll see," you said quietly. "plus, i think riddle is in slug club," alicia whispered.

you almost spilled the peppermint that you were trying to add into your potion. "sorry, what?" you gaped at her. she scoffed at you and smiled, "don't act dumb, i always see you looking at him."

your potion turned to a soft blue - that was a good sign. "what??? no i don't.." you mumbled and glanced over at alicia's cauldron, which was bubbling a little too vigorously.

"uh, alicia... are you sure you didn't add to much oil?" you asked her, eyeing the bubbles. "you're not getting out of this conversation, y/n," alicia said while she kept adding oil.

"no, no, i'm serious, look at those bubbles."

"oh, oops," alicia gasped, and quickly turned down the heat under her cauldron. "well, at least it's not melting this time."

you laughed softly, helping her adjust the potion before it boiled over. potions was always a mix of stress and humor with alicia. seems like you're not as slick as you thought you were.

⋆｡⋆˙⟡transfiguration class:

in dumbledore's class there was a different energy in the air. the room was spacious and bright, high arched windows were letting beams of sunlight in that illuminated against the desks. dumbledore was standing at the front. "today," dumbledore began, "we will attempt one of the more advanced transfigurations. turning inanimate objects into animals. quite the leap from last week's matchsticks to needles, wouldn't you say?"

maeve leaned over to you, whispering, "what if we give a four-legged animal six legs by mistake?"

you snickered quietly.

dumbledore waved his wand, and a stack of stones appeared on each of the student's desks. "your task today is to transform this stone into small creatures to your choosing. a mouse, perhaps, or a bird. be gentle, and focus."

you pointed your wand at the stone, visualizing a small bird. with clear focus, you flicked your wand, saying the incantation softly.

to your surprise, the stone started shifting, wings sprouting from its sides as it transformed into a tiny sparrow. it fluttered its wings confused before hopping onto your desk.

"well, aren't you just the star pupil," maeve teased with a grin. she was still poking at her half-transformed stone, which looked more like a stone with some fur on it.

from the front of the class, dumbledore's eyes met yours briefly, and he gave a small approving nod. you continued helping maeve, when you caught a glimpse of tom riddle a few rows ahead. his magic was perfect - obviously. the stone in from of him had turned into a sleek, black raven that perched on his desk with eerie calm.

you sighed, forcing yourself to focus more on maeve and her furry rock. there would be plenty of time to think about tom later, but the time was ticking and you knew it.

shadow, the cat that you'd taken in, padded silently beside you as you made your way to the library. you smiled down at him, shadow had proven to be nothing more than a sweet, lovely companion. the cat had followed you everywhere except for classes.

"you like books, don't you?" you murmured to the cat as you entered the library, earning a few curious glances from other students. shadow flicked his tail and trotted ahead of you, his sleek form disappearing between two towering bookshelves.

the library was quiet and warm, even after dinner. the air was thick with the scent of old parchment and dust. you loved it in the library, it felt like a sanctuary, a place where time stood still.

wandering through the shelves you scanned the spines of he books you passed. every so often, you'd glance behind you to make sure shadow was still with you. reaching a shelf tucked in a quiet corner of the library, you found a book you'd been looking for - the founder's legacy: a history of hogwarts. it was a book you needed for your muggle studies.

you pulled it down and tucked in under your arm, turning to leave the aisle - but when you did, you noticed shadow was gone. "shadow?" you called softly, careful not to disturb the other students. the silence of the library seemed to grow louder, your eyes searching for the black fur you had grown accustomed to.

frowning, you stepped out of the aisle, looking around for any sign of the cat. only a few students were scattered around the tables., their heads buried in their studies. then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted him.

at one of the far tables, seated in his usual spot near the back of the library, was tom riddle.

with shadow.

your breath caught in your throat. the sleek black cat had made himself comfortable on the edge of tom's open book, his paws kneading the pages as he purred contentedly. tom didn't seem bothered by the interruption. in fact, he was watching the cat with an odd expression - almost as if he was amused, though his features remained calm and composed as always.

for a second, you just stood there, contemplating all your life's choices. seeing shadow so comfortable made your heart race. tom riddle, the person you were meant to change, was casually petting the cat you had taken in and it made your situation feel even more surreal.

but only you couldn't keep standing there forever, staring at tom riddle.

so, you summoned up your courage, and slowly walked over to the table, forcing yourself to remain calm even though you could feel your chest preparing for a panic attack.

"looking for this?" his voice was soft but cold as he gestured to the cat with a slight raise of his hand. shadow meowed happily and stretched out his paws, pushing against tom's book as if he had claimed it for himself.

hearing tom's voice changed something in you, a warm feeling spread through you.

"yes," you said, your voice steady - trying to ignore all the feelings you were feeling at once. "i didn't realize he'd wandered off."

tom's eyes lingered on you for a moment, studying you with the same unsettling intensity you'd noticed in class. then he looked back at the cat, one hand absently touching behind shadow's eaer. the cat purred louder, pressing into the touch as though he had always belonged there.

"he seems to like me," tom observed. you had to hold back a scoff, so you forced a smile. "he's a friendly one."

"i can see."

you weren't sure how to respond to that. you cleared your throat and stepped forward, reaching for shadow. "well, i should get him out of your way, he's probably disturbing your reading. or studying, or whatever..."

tom didn't move at first, and for a brief second you thought he might not let you take back your cat. but the, he pulled his hand back. shadow, oblivious to the tension, stretched lazily before hopping off the table and rubbing against your leg.

you cradled shadow in your arms as you tried to steady your nerves.

you felt tom's gaze linger on you for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to his book, his expression unreadable. "be careful," he said, his voice low. "not everything that follows you is harmless."

you blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. was that a warning? or something more? before you could reply, tom had already turned the page of his book, his focus shifting away from you as though the conversation had never happened.

a chill ran down your spine as you hugged shadow closer. your heart was pounding in your chest and you turned around.

tom's cryptic words echoed in your thoughts. you were halfway to the library's entrance when you spotted lucas striding toward you, hands tucked in his pockets, that ever-present grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. he seemed completely at ease, as though the world was just a big joke waiting to be told.

"there you are!" he called out in a low voice, somewhat mindful of the library's strit silence policy. he walked right up to you, his sharp blue eyes scanning your face before flicking over to the spot where tom was sitting. "i saw you ever there, chatting with riddle."

"yeah.. shadow wandered over to him," you smiled slightly, still not fully calmed down, but lucas' presence helped a bit.

lucas smiled, "look, i'm just gonna say it: i've seen you stare at him with times, and you look like you've seen a ghost. whatever he's said to you-"

"he said something about not everything that follows you is harmless," you interrupted him, needing to get it off your chest.

"okay, stop. that's freakishly creepy," lucas gaped, stealing a glance at tom. "just.. try to ignore him. riddle's either got everyone thinking he's the hottest thing to walk these halls, or they think he's bloody weird."

your curiosity piqued, "and what do you think?"

lucas paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the question. his grin returned, "both."

you chuckled at his bluntness, "both?"

you walked out of the library, your book long forgotten on the table you were supposed to be studying at. "yeah, he's good looking. i mean, objectively speaking," lucas said. "but there's something about him that's off. like, he's too good at... well, everything. it's unnatural, people are drawn to him, but they're also.. i don't know, scared of him. you know? even if they don't want to admit it."

you nodded, thinking back how tom had looked at you - the way his eyes seemed to see right through you. there was definitely something unnerving about him. "he's strange. almost like he's always one step ahead of everyone."

"exactly," lucas agreed. "it's like he's playing a game no one else knows the rules to. trust me, best to keep your distance."

"i wasn't planning on making friends with him," you said, shifting shadow in your arms. the cat blinked lazily up at you.

"good, i've got enough trouble without having to rescue you from the dark and mysterious Tom Riddle," lucas replied, giving you a reassuring smile.

you let out a laugh, "thanks, lucas. i'll be sure to tell you first if i fet in over my head."

lucas grinned, "i'll be there, wand at the ready."

the two of you started to head toward the common room together, the tension that had been knotted in your chest since your encounter with tom slowly began to ease. lucas had a way of making things feel lighter, like no matter how complicated the situation got, he’d find a way to make it less scary.

“anyway,” Lucas said, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you walked, “enough about riddle. did you get what you came for? or are we heading back in for round two of ‘tom the cat whisperer’?”

you smirked, shaking your head. “no more rounds with him for today, thanks. i think i’ve had my fill of mysterious brooding for the time being. but i do think i might've left my book in there."

lucas laughed again, his voice carrying through the halls. “we'll get it first think tomorrow. and if you do like him, just don’t go falling for that whole dark-and-mysterious thing. i won't judge you.”

you rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully. “please. you know i prefer my friends a little less brooding and a little more… fun.”

“see? that’s the right attitude.” he gave you a wink, his smile warm and genuine. “stick with me. i’m way more fun than some dark wizard-in-training.”

you couldn't help but smile back. as strange and intense as things had become, lucas was a constant source of light. maybe, just maybe, he’d help keep you grounded as you navigated the dangerous path ahead.

a/n: posted a bit earlier, but umm, i was thinking of naming the cat crookshanks first - so she has a reminder of hermione, harry and ron. but idk :( alsooooo, i'll probably update on sunday for this serie (loads of homework)

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[thebirdandthebee]

Morning Snack | Aemond Targaryen

This is my first time writing in the House of the Dragon universe, so please be kind! Don't expect perfect historical accuracy - but I just love this character so much.

featuring | Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen x Reader

length | 1k words (a shorty!)

synopsis | You're worried about your shape, and your husband's lack of worry about his.

warnings | 18+ MDNI! Fluff + implied smut

One thing that drove you mad about your husband was just how often he could eat. That is, eat and maintain his lithe figure. Sure, he was in the training yard every day, keeping his shape inadvertently, as it was clear he never once had to think about the harsh pull of a corset, but you were certain he could eat more in one day than some homes ate in a week.

It wasn’t uncommon to see the Prince walking the halls of the Red Keep with an apple in his hand, or reaching for a sweet in his pocket.

Aside from snacks, he would quietly and cleanly go through two, three, sometimes four plates of food at supper - the cook prepping and preparing extra venison just for the second son.

When the two of you would take dinner in your bedchambers, there was often a small, second table brought in to hold plates as they normally would not fit on your given space.

Only once and a while, as you ran into your husband throughout the grounds, would you catch just a crumb or two on his black doublet - a sure sign he’d been ordering shortbread to his meeting room during the day.

Besides the fact that you hadn’t seen his measurements change in the 16 months you’d been betrothed and married, there were no obvious signs of his intake.

Today, as your ladies in waiting braced a foot up on the bedpost to pull your laces tighter and tighter, the sight of Aemond’s keen eye scanning a selection of cheeses from your tea table nearly sent you into a frenzy.

“Thank you,” you grimaced before dismissing your ladies maids for the morning - now that you’d been picked, prodded and parsed away into a cascade of deep emerald velvet.

“Thought I’d join you for tea, my love,” Aemond said quietly, just barely breaking eye contact with the spread of fruit, cured meat and treats alongside the soft cheeses on the hutch near your common area.

“Oh really? Because you missed my company?” You supplied, striding across the room, sure you could feel your ribs straining beneath the whelped whale bone stitched into your garments.

“I always enjoy your company, sweet wife,” Aemond assured, raising his look to meet yours, but hand still hovering over a particularly ripe looking apricot.

“Are you sure you aren’t just here for the tea? I can excuse myself so you can be alone with your meal,” you tossed him a look that he nearly missed because he was sure he saw his favorite jam preserves tucked into the display that he hadn’t seen available for a few weeks.

“Mm?” He asked, turning his head to look up at you one more time.

“You make me mad, do you know that?” You asked, coming to stand in front of him with a small furrow between your brows.

“Mad?” Aemond asked, tossing a small berry into his mouth.

“You are here for the food!” You all but snarled, causing his brow to lift just slightly in surprise. 

“Is something the matter?” He asked, turning his shoulders squarely to face you.

“You get to eat and eat and eat all day long,” you huffed, turning and crossing the room once again to pour a glass of incensed water into your empty cup. “How can you eat so much and yet your body never changes? Not even a bit?” You asked. 

Aemond was at a loss for words. He was certain he didn’t eat that much.

“If I have one more sweet than veg at dinner, I can feel on my thighs for the next six weeks!” You knew you were bordering on hysteria at this point. “I watched you eat six tarts last night.” You pointed an accusatory finger at your husband. “Six!”

“They were very good tarts, plums are finally back in season,” Aemond countered, not sure why his little wife was throwing a fit over his tea.

You crossed the rooms again, cradling his sharp jaw in your hands, arms accounting for the height difference between you two.

“I am deeply in love with you, and I deeply resent how you can maintain your figure and eat until your heart’s content,” you said sternly. Aemond noted the slight sweetness of honeysuckle on your breath. “I am… envious,” you admitted softly.

“I assure you,” Aemond began, “your body leaves me wanting for nothing,” he informed. “I’m quite attached to all parts of it and hope none of them disappear,” he said, unruffled by your outburst.

“Well they will,” you huffed, dropping your arms and placing your hands on your waist. “I need to shed these hips and thighs, so I’m telling cook no more sweets at dinner or tea,” you said pointedly, turning away from your husband and crossing the room again to grab your cloak.

“No sweets?” Aemond’s face reflected an expression of disgust. “That simply won’t work for me,” he replied. 

“No sweets,” you reiterated. Aemond set down the halved peach he’d absentmindedly picked up as you were speaking and strode across the room, placing his hands on your waist over your clock.

“My love, I need my sweets the same way I need you,” he murmured in your ear, causing you to puff out a sarcastic laugh.

“Oh really? You can’t live without them?” You asked, spinning in his hold.

Aemond took a deep breath, drawing his arms tightening around you as he spoke with clear authority.

“Your hips and thighs happen to be my favorite bits,” he began, “and if you take them from me the same way you plan to take my sweets, I will take it as a personal affront.”

“Aemond, the other ladies of court - ”

“Frankly, I don’t care about the other ladies of court and neither should you,” he interrupted. “You are a Princess and if anything, they should strive to be more like their rulers.” He held a finger to your lips. “Now that I’ve finished my snack, let me move on to my next favorite thing to eat."

-

-

Please let me know if you'd be interested in reading any more Aemond content :)

[hochsleep]

Relationship with Daryl Dixon (headcanons)

This is my first experience writing headcanons, but I have a lot to say! And yes, I used a gif from Beth, but we don't support that pairing here, guys.....

Also, thanks to the author of the gif!

Pronouns: she/her (fem!reader) / (I'll do headcanons for Daryl's relationship for gender-neutral readers later on)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon/fem!reader (Y/N)

Warnings: no, not this time. Everything is decent (underage readers can read)

• Daryl Dixon is far from stupid. I mean, he can certainly tell the difference between romantic interest and friendly sympathy. He has Carol, his best friend, and he knows that he feels for her the kind of platonic friendly love he usually feels for a family member. But that's not the case with you. Sure, you've most likely known Daryl for a long time (assuming you joined Rick's group at any point from Atlanta to Prison, can pick at your discretion). So since you've known each other for a while, Daryl has had time to realize that his feelings for you are far from friendly. All the tenderness and care that he feels for you hardly compares to friendship. Daryl definitely didn't feel like kissing Carol's lips every time she came into his field of vision. That's the difference.

• But realizing your feelings is only halfway there. Daryl isn't the type to make the first move and declare his love. He's a very insecure person because of his past, so it would be hard for him to believe that someone like you would want someone like him. Daryl will just watch over you from the sidelines, he will make sure you are safe and will always be there to protect you. Even if it's just a harmless fall down the stairs when you were arranging jars of canned fruit on the top shelf in the Alexandria pantry. He will notice that the stepladder beneath you is wobbling dangerously and will be there to catch you and prevent you from bruising any part of your body. He will take great care of you.

• Daryl is probably the type of man who idolizes and admires the girl he's in love with. Both her character and inner world, as well as her looks. He would spend hours just looking at your unconditionally beautiful face. Every mole, every freckle, every wrinkle in the corner of your eyes when you smile. God, he could never get enough. Every part of you is perfect. Daryl's not sure he's ever seen a more beautiful woman. I mean, he probably had a soft spot for women he personally thought were pretty in the past, but it was never more than a glance in their direction. Just trying to say that Daryl isn't a pristine and innocent man who never thought about women. Over the many years of his maybe not the most prosperous life, Daryl has definitely had his fair share of beautiful women. But it had always been respectful. Mental admiration from the sidelines. Daryl never "barked" or "bit" like Merle. Daryl is much more respectful of women.

• That's why he likes to watch from the sidelines and think about you. A lot of thinking. Daryl is indeed a man of few words, but he has more than enough to think about. And when he falls in love, you become the center. Except when Daryl has to think about survival or when he and Rick are making a plan of action to save the group. But rest assured, all of Daryl's free time is spent thinking about you. He's very observant and remembers every little thing about you so he can think about it later. Do you like to read? Daryl will listen to you talk about your favorite books and find them during one of your outings, rest assured. Do you like wildflowers? Great, a bouquet of a hundred of them will be waiting for you on the doorstep of your Alexandria home when you come home after a hard day's work. Maybe you like a certain kind of clothing? Like something knit? Daryl will either find it during the outing or ask Carol to help with it when she's not busy. He won't say who it's for, but Carol certainly knows. And after you get those little gifts, Daryl will watch you smile widely because you know who left them under your door. And Daryl will think about your smile until he falls asleep at night. But he'll only dream about you, too.

• Somehow you were the first to admit your feelings because Daryl is actually cowardly about these things. A man can take on walkers or hostile people with his bare hands (like the Saviors), but he definitely can't just go and tell someone he really likes how he feels. No, you have to push him. And hints aren't enough, you have to say it outright. And then probably prove the sincerity of your words of love for the rest of your life, because Daryl Dixon is a very insecure man. He knows in his brain that you really do love him and will be faithful to him, but those childhood traumas are really getting in the way of his life. Be prepared for that.

• Your relationship with Daryl will gain momentum gradually. I don't think Daryl really likes all these formalities and labels like "girlfriend" and "boyfriend". You're just his and he's just yours. There's no need to complicate it all, the world of the zombie apocalypse is already very complicated. But if you care about dates and formalities, surely Daryl can learn to take it seriously. Not right away, but he will. Just give him time and he'll lay the whole world at your feet. And he'll start marking your anniversary with a marker on his calendar so that he definitely won't miss this important day for you (he won't admit it, but for him too). Daryl will be learning and you'll have to be a good mentor in this relationship for the first few years. It will be worth it, trust me.

• Daryl Dixon gets attached to people easily. He's like a big loyal dog. I mean, have you seen how loyal he is to Rick and Carol? He bites at first, doesn't want to let anyone in, but eventually he gives in and lets you take his heart and soul under his protection. Take care of that. My point is that this is the same way love works in Daryl's case. I'm pretty sure Daryl doesn't believe in the concept of love at first sight and stuff, he rather believes that love only comes about through the process of a relationship. So at first he thinks you are just a pretty woman. Then a friend. Then a good friend. And yes, he may feel sympathy, affection and probably crush at this time, but not love. No, he falls in love with you gradually. It's a slow process, but in Daryl's case it will be forever. He's definitely a one-woman man. And when he allows himself to really love you and not just be a little bit in love, when his heart completely belongs to you and he finally says "I love you" with all seriousness and responsibility, rest assured that this is love. This man will show you what true love is. Safe, sincere, and endlessly committed. Just give him time. Let him love you.

• The following headcanon (though I think it's unqualified canon) about Daryl's loyalty follows from this. You may try to be jealous of him or think he'll fall in love with someone else (it all depends on your confidence), but Daryl will prove time and time again that he's only loyal to you. This man is serious about his and your feelings and your relationship. Therefore, he will not give not a single reason for jealousy. But there could be quite a few women around (and men probably too) who might like Daryl. He doesn't care, he will never look at anyone else. Why would he do that when he has you? You're perfect for him and his heart doesn't belong to him anymore. So if Daryl notices your jealousy and insecurity, he'll spend all his time trying to prove to you that you're the one for him. He's deeply committed. To Rick, to Carol, to Maggie, to Alexandria. He's eternally devoted to you.

• The relationship with Daryl will be full of complexities, let's not turn a blind eye to that. He's a complicated man with a lot of trauma behind him. The situation is more acute if you're a complicated person, too. There's a lot to put up with. Probably a lot of fighting at the beginning of the relationship, especially if we're talking about Daryl from the first seasons of the show. But if you're both willing to work on that relationship, it will work well. Again, not right away, but it will. Daryl is sure that his love for you will be enough for both of you and certainly for solving all your problems in this relationship. He will try his best for you and you will try your best for him too.

• Physical intimacy is probably going to be difficult. Daryl's not a fan of close physical contact, especially with someone he can't call his family. You know, the boy had a shitty childhood. But he feels the need to feel the warmth of your skin on his skin. So he may unknowingly touch you before your relationship even begins. It could just be a "casual" hand collision when you both reached for the same item on the shelf. Or he may lightly touch your shoulder when he needs to get your attention and say something to you. You shouldn't pressure him with this and force a hug or anything like that. He will definitely come to it on his own when he's comfortable and he sees that you're okay with it. As your relationship progresses, he will open up to new types of physical contact more quickly. Sure he'll hug you a lot, try to hold your hand in his, but it's all in private. And of course kissing. I think Daryl actually likes kissing, but he's not very good at it for lack of much experience. Teach him how to kiss well if you have enough experience yourself. He'll be a good student. Especially when it comes to lessons involving his lips on yours. I'm pretty sure Daryl will become very clingy as your relationship progresses. When you're alone together, he won't be able to feel comfortable unless his arms are around you in one way or another. He physically needs to hold you, to bump his nose into your neck and hair to smell your scent, which he loves so much. And of course kissing. Gentle kisses or passionate French kisses, he loves it all.

• Daryl definitely doesn't like the display of attachment on the publick. He considers it yours and his alone. Something private that needs to be kept out of the public eye. Well, he's also pissed off by those ambiguous looks Carol and Rick give him after you call him "baby" or "cutie" in public. But Daryl is willing to hold your hands and will even let you kiss him on the cheek in public if he's in a good mood. He'll save the rest for the two of you alone in your sweet home in Alexandria.

• As for intimacy, everything is ambiguous here. I think for Daryl it is not at all a mandatory aspect of the relationship. If you are asexual, he will have absolutely no problem with this. You are more than enough. The opportunity to see you smile, hug you and make you happy is all he needs. Sex is not necessary and Daryl can definitely live without it if you are not interested in sexual relations. But if you are not against it, then he will be happy to please you. I mean, he does it every day just by existing and loving you, but if he can please you in a sexual sense, he will be happy to do so. But again, not right away. You both will go to this gradually. Trial and error. Only when he completely opens up to you and is not ashamed of his scars, knowing that you love them completely and completely because they are a part of him. But most importantly, when you yourself tell him that you are also ready, then you can act. Daryl has some experience. Merle ordered Daryl... a prostitute for his twenty-first birthday and Daryl had to do it. I think he was the one feeling like a prostitute, not the woman. And maybe he's slept with random women from a bar a couple of times after drinking too much. But it was never anything special and not out of great desire. With you, it's different. Sex with you is his way of showing you love in a new way. Either way, he knows how it works, but you still need to guide him. Show him how you like it and help him the first few times. Daryl is a quick learner, especially if you help him. So pretty soon he'll memorize all the right places and positions to make you feel good as hell, nothing less. Daryl will make sure that you feel good first.

• Your comfort is Daryl's absolute priority. Over the years, he will learn to compromise and give in when necessary. Daryl loves you unconditionally and is ready to be on his knees in front of you, this is what you have done to him with your love and tenderness. Daryl Dixon has become soft and fluffy around you. Just for you. Merle would call him a pansy and laugh, but Daryl doesn't care. Not anymore. You're all he cares about.

• You're his safe place. His home. His heart and soul belong to you, take care of it. And then Daryl Dixon will move mountains for you, you bet he will.

~ A cute little headcanon as a bonus: I honestly think the soundtrack of the relationship with Daryl, is the song: The Goo Goo Dolls - Iris.

[hotshotsxyz]

wide awake from the breeze

(buddie) (2.2k) i swore i was going to write something for @summerofbuddie so here i am with something on the last possible day lol. very in character of me. title from blue sky & the painter which i will continue to push as The eddie diaz song for season 8

The air is crisp and cold, and finally, finally, Eddie can breathe.

The San Gabriels are beautiful this time of year, but it’s hard to appreciate the changing leaves when he’s watching Buck. Their color could never compete with his light.

Buck’s fingers tap against the steering wheel as he hums along to a song Eddie’s certain has repeated at least three times in the past two hours. He’s beautiful like this. He’s always beautiful, actually, but Eddie thinks this might be his favorite version of Buck. Happiness suits him.

They’ve been tumbling towards something since Buck broke up with Tommy, since Eddie finally let loose the words that have been stuck in his throat for years. For once in his life, Eddie isn’t overly worried about time. For once in his life, he’s got plenty of it.

They reach a scenic overlook, and Buck pulls over. He takes his sunglasses off and drops them on the dashboard, then looks over at Eddie and grins.

“See,” Buck says brightly, “I told you it’d be worth the drive.”

Eddie twists in his seat so he can face Buck a little more directly. His curls are wild from the wind, and his eyes glow in the late afternoon sun. “I didn’t doubt you for a second,” Eddie murmurs.

Buck’s smile grows impossibly wider. The foliage doesn’t stand a chance. “You want to get out for a little? Stretch our legs?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees easily.

There’s a trailhead just a few hundred feet away, and Buck bounds toward it eagerly.

“Half a mile out and back?” he calls over his shoulder after studying the map for a second, as if there’s anywhere Eddie wouldn’t follow him.

“Let’s do it,” Eddie replies as he sidles up next to Buck.

Buck smiles at him again, and it’s a little like watching the first light of dawn stretch across the horizon.

They mostly walk in silence, but every few minutes Buck pauses to point out a particular tree or bird. It’s kind of incredible, the way he latches onto information and then gifts it to Eddie in a single excited breath. Eddie’s got his own personal guidebook to the world, and he makes everything feel new and special.

The trail ends at the bank of a small, placid lake surrounded by rocky outcroppings. Buck sits on one and pulls Eddie down next to him.

The sky above them is cloudless and clear, a brilliant blue that’s reflected in the water. A few leaves drift slowly across the surface, leaving behind tiny wake trails. It’s peaceful in a way Eddie’s rarely gotten to experience in his life. He isn’t sure he’d even be capable of appreciating that if it weren’t for Buck.

“I think I want to do this forever,” Eddie says as they stare out across the lake.

Buck knocks his knee against Eddie’s. “What?” he asks, “Watch the leaves turn?”

Eddie looks at him and finds a soft smile that tells him Buck knows exactly what he means. “Yeah,” he says, knocking his knee back, “something like that.”

For a long moment, Buck holds his gaze. “Yeah,” he says finally, “me too.”

Eddie leans to the side, allowing his weight to settle against Buck’s shoulder. He tries not to worry anymore about whether or not he deserves to have someone like Buck in his life. He has him. Buck picks him, over and over again, and even though Eddie’s not sure he’ll ever quite manage to wrap his head around it, he’s long since decided the only way he needs to feel about that is grateful. And god is he grateful.

Buck closes his eyes and tips his face toward the sun. His cheeks are tinged with pink, and it’s hard to tell if it’s the cold, the beginnings of a sunburn, or something else entirely that’s caused it. Eddie finds that he wants to know, wants to press his fingers to Buck’s skin and see if the redness fades or grows.  

It’s an impulse he could give in to; Buck would let him. There’s something about this moment he wants to freeze though, and if he moves it’ll change. Instead, he watches. He commits every detail to memory. When he’s old and gray and everything else is fading, this will be what he remembers.

A gust of wind blows down through the valley, and Buck shivers with it, nose scrunching. He opens his eyes and looks at Eddie. “I’m cold,” he admits with a sheepish smile.

“You’re always cold,” Eddie says, voice dripping with fondness.

Buck tilts his head in acknowledgement. He flexes his fingers a few times, probably stiff in the autumn air.

“C’mere,” Eddie says a little nonsensically. Buck will understand.

Buck holds his hands out and Eddie takes them. He vigorously rubs at them until they’re satisfyingly friction warm. He keeps them when he’s done, holding them together between his palms to protect them from the wind. Buck ducks his head and grins.

“You’re like a space heater,” he says, shuffling impossibly closer.

“And you’re like an icepack,” Eddie replies.

Buck blows out a soft, amused breath. “Makes me handy to keep around in the summer,” he quips.

“I always want you around.”

Another version of Eddie might’ve hesitated, might’ve buried that instinctive reply as far down as possible, shoved it next to all the things he refused to examine. Too bad for that Eddie; he wouldn’t get to see the pink on Buck’s cheeks darken and spread.

“I always want you around, too,” Buck says, quiet, like he might scare away the moment if he speaks too loudly.

Eddie’s been waiting. For what, he’s not entirely sure. For him and Buck to be alone, though that’s hardly a rare occurrence. For all the doubtful voices in his head to go silent, but Buck’s been quieting those for years. For him to feel settled in his skin. For the world to stop turning around them long enough to do it right. All at once, Eddie feels like there’s nothing else to wait for.

“I love you,” he says, and the words taste good. They’re the icy fresh snow melt that streams down mountains in the spring, the bright tang of citrus in the summer, the spicy warmth of mulled cider in the winter, and soon, he thinks, he’ll know for certain that they taste like Buck in the fall.

A small noise spills from Buck’s mouth and he sways forward, less like he’s leaning in and more like he can’t help but be caught in Eddie’s gravity.

“Eddie,” he whispers. His eyes shine.

“Buck,” he replies.

For most of Eddie’s life, he’s been afraid. He’s pushed past it, locked it down, pretended that the twist of anxiety in his gut was never more than passing butterflies. Here, though, now, he doesn’t even feel brave. He’s too sure, Buck makes him feel too safe; there’s no fear for him to fight against.

Buck blinks a few times and swallows visibly. Eddie rubs his thumbs in soothing circles against Buck’s wrists.

“You…” Buck starts, rough and awed.

“Take your time,” Eddie says, unable to hide his amusement.

Buck huffs and kicks at Eddie’s ankle. “Forgive me for taking a second to process literally the best thing I’ve ever heard,” he retorts without any bite.

“Oh no, I mean it,” Eddie says with a wide grin. “I’ll sit here all day. I’m not cold.”

A startled laugh jumps from Buck’s throat. “Be quiet, let me finish processing,” he says.

“Process away,” Eddie murmurs.

A few seconds pass and he watches the gears turn in Buck’s mind. Eddie knows the way they like to twist and catch, but he’s not worried. They’ll have a lifetime to discard all the worst-case scenarios.

 “Okay,” Buck says finally. “I’ve processed.” He pulls his hands from Eddie’s grip and raises them to his jaw. He leans in and Eddie meets him halfway.

Eddie was right, but also wrong. Buck tastes like love, yes, but he also tastes like home and joy and warmth and a little like the muscadines they’d stopped to buy from a roadside stand earlier in the day. Buck smiles against his lips and it feels like the rest of his life.

“For the record,” Buck says, pulling back just far enough to look Eddie in the eye, “I love you too.”

Eddie can’t help the bright peal of laughter that bursts from his chest. He feels free and alive and happy and everything else he was once afraid he’d never be able to. Buck skims a thumb along his cheek bone and grins.

“If you’re done, I really want to kiss you again,” Buck says once Eddie’s laughter has faded to a soft chuckle.

Eddie grips Buck’s waist and hums. “I don’t know, I think I need to process,” he teases.

“Oh, that’s fine, I’ll just sit here and freeze while you—” Buck makes a surprised noise as Eddie surges forward and cuts him off with his lips.

They break apart a second time and Eddie rests his forehead against Buck’s. “I’ve processed,” he says, quiet and smiling.

“Yeah?” Buck asks, a little breathless.

Eddie hums an affirmative. “Best thing I’ve ever heard, had to let it sink in.”

Buck presses a soft, chaste kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “It takes a second,” he agrees.

Another gust of wind blows past them. A few leaves begin their gentle descent to the ground and Buck shivers.

“Come on,” Eddie says, laughing lightly as he pulls back and stands. He holds his hands out and Buck takes them. “You’ve got a hoodie in the Jeep.”

Buck’s head tilts adorably. “I didn’t…” he says, trailing off as the confusion in his expression makes way for that quiet, disbelieving smile that seems to be reserved exclusively for Eddie.

“You’re always cold,” Eddie says with a fond eyeroll. He tugs at Buck until he stands.

“Not always,” Buck says, suddenly inches from Eddie.

Eddie swallows as a shudder of anticipation travels down his spine. “No?” he asks faintly.

Buck fixes him with a look Eddie’s seen before, though never directed at him. “Nope,” he says, eyes dark and lips curling.

The effect is lessened slightly as the breeze kicks up again and Buck cringes away from it. The tip of his nose is bright pink. Eddie wants to kiss it, so he does.

He laughs again and drops one of Buck’s hands. “Let’s go, cowboy, you can seduce me in the Jeep.”

Buck’s mouth opens and closes. “Uh, that’s—yeah, let’s do that,” he says in a rush.

They quickly make their way back up to the trailhead. Eddie can’t remember ever smiling this much, but even when his cheeks start to hurt it’s impossible to stop. He’s happy, happy in a way he didn’t even know was possible until very recently.

When they reach the overlook, Eddie pauses just long enough to lift their joined hands and press a kiss to the back of Buck’s.

Buck’s eyes widen. “When did you get so…” He gestures vaguely.

Eddie snorts. “I have game,” he says.

“No,” Buck says incredulously, “you don’t. Or—or didn’t.”

“It sounds like you think I have game,” Eddie teases.

“I think you should get in the Jeep so we can go home and test the theory,” Buck replies.

“Gonna have to let me go first,” Eddie says, nodding toward their intertwined fingers.

Buck blushes but makes no move to extricate himself from Eddie’s grip.  

“Or not,” Eddie says softly.

“I just…” Buck trails off.

Eddie squeezes his hand.

“I want to remember this,” Buck says, ducking his head. “How everything feels right now.”

“Even the cold?” Eddie asks.

Buck squeezes his hand. “M’not cold,” he says.

The wind blows, and Buck crowds in closer to Eddie, trying to hide from it.

“I think you might be a little cold,” Eddie murmurs.

“Maybe I just wanted to kiss you again,” Buck replies.

Eddie grins. “Don’t let me stop you,” he says.

Buck presses a feather-light kiss to his cheek, then his nose, then the corner of his mouth. Eddie feels his cheeks heat beneath his touch.

“Okay,” he says softly. He steps back and lets go of Eddie’s hand. He fishes his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the Jeep.

Eddie climbs into the passenger seat as Buck settles in front of the wheel, just like they’ve done a thousand times before. He reaches into the back and grabs Buck’s hoodie, the slightly oversized one that he loves to wrap himself in on days just like this one. He hands it to Buck. As he watches Buck wriggle into it, he’s hit with a wave of joy all over again.

“I love you,” he says when Buck’s head pops out from the hood, just because he can.

“You’re such a sap,” Buck says, but it sounds a whole lot like I love you too.

Buck turns the key in the ignition, and the stereo comes to life playing the same song as before.

Is that a blue sky? The singer asks.

“It’s about damn time,” Eddie can’t help but sing along.

Buck grins at him and grabs his hand.

It’s about damn time.

[pawsitivevibe]

A Quick Guide to Dog Shows

I tend to see a certain amount of confusion about how dog shows work. So I'm going to break it down here. Note that this is based on the Canadian Kennel Club and might differ based on organization. It is basically the same as the American Kennel Club. If you watched Crufts, some of the classes and awards have different names, but operate in a very similar progression.

There are multiple "stages" in conformation. This is where I see the confusion.

CLASS:

So, you sign up your dog for a dog show. They are going to be entered under their BREED. Within their breed, they will be entered in a CLASS. A class is basically just a category under which they are judged. The main classes are usually:

6-9 month old dog (often called Junior Puppy)

6-9 month old bitch

9-12 month old dog (often called Senior Puppy)

9-12 month old bitch

12-18 month old dog

12-18 month old bitch

Open dog

Open bitch

Canadian bred dog (the dog was born in Canada)

Canadian bred bitch

Bred by exhibitor dog (the dog's breeder is also the dog's handler)

Bred by exhibitor bitch

These additional classes are also common:

Veteran dog (7+ years old)

Veteran bitch

3-6 month old dog ("Baby Puppy" does not compete for points, but may compete for "Best Baby Puppy")

3-6 month old bitch

Dogs within the classes will be judged based on the breed standard, but in the age based classes the judge will be keeping in mind that they are still puppies. Your dog may be eligible for multiple classes, so you choose the one you think your dog has the best chance of winning. For example, I have a 20 month old English Cocker Spaniel dog. He is eligible to compete in Open dog, because dogs of any age can compete in Open. He was bred in Canada, but I did not breed him, so I could enter him in Canadian bred, but not bred by exhibitor. I choose ONE class to enter.

Alright we're in our CLASS. Each class is then judged based on the breed standard. Each class will be judged for 1st through 4th place. The 1st place dog or bitch in each class will then move on to the WINNERS ring.

WINNERS:

The winners of the dog classes will compete for WINNERS DOG. The winners of the bitch classes will compete for WINNERS BITCH. There will also be a Reserve Winners Dog (2nd place) and a Reserve Winners Bitch. Note that the winners dog and bitch may be puppies.

BEST OF BREED:

The Winners Dog and Winners Bitch will then go on to the BEST OF BREED ring. They will be joined by dogs and bitches of their breed who are already show champions. Champions have already won enough "points" in previous shows to receive the title of champion, and do not have to compete in the CLASS or WINNERS stages. The judge will now look at the winners dog and bitch and all the champions, and choose 1 to be awarded BEST OF BREED, meaning they are the best dog or bitch overall. The judge will then choose a BEST OF OPPOSITE SEX, meaning the best dog of the opposite sex to the best of breed winner. If the BOB is a bitch, then all the male dogs will be judged for BOS. The judge will also look at the Winners Bitch and the Winners Dog to choose a BEST OF WINNERS between the two. The judge will also choose a SELECT DOG and SELECT BITCH, for the best champion dogs after BOB and BOS. Sometimes the judge will also choose dogs to be given an AWARD OF MERIT, to recognize exceptional quality in dogs who did not receive BOB, BOS, or Select.

BEST PUPPY IN BREED:

The judge will then call in all the puppies, dog or bitch, that were not defeated by another puppy. These puppies may have been entered in any CLASS, not just the puppy classes, because you can also enter puppies in Open, Canadian bred, or any other non-age-restricted class. The judge will choose an overall BEST PUPPY. However, if the BEST OF BREED dog was already a puppy, that dog will automatically be awarded Best Puppy as well.

GROUP:

Now there are many many dog breeds, and the breeds are divided into "groups", which is usually indicative of their function. Groups have different names and divisions in different organizations, but the CKC has 7 groups: Sporting, Hound, Working, Terrier, Toy, Non-Sporting, and Herding. Spaniels, setters, pointers, and retrievers are in the Sporting Group. Sighthounds and scent hounds are in the Hound group. Herding dogs are in Herding, and so on. Every breed within a group will have the BEST OF BREED sent to the BEST OF GROUP ring. Each of the BOBs of the different breeds will be judged against their own breed standard to determine which of them is the best. There will be a top 4 dogs awarded in each group.

There will also be a separate competition for BEST PUPPY IN GROUP. All of the BEST PUPPY IN BREED winners will compete for this. If a puppy was also the BEST OF BREED winner in a particular breed, they will compete in the group and puppy group.

BEST IN SHOW:

The 7 BEST OF GROUP winners will go on to compete in the Best in Show competition. Remember, they are being judged based on their own breed standard, and if they fit their own standard better than the other dogs fit theirs. So the best in show judge is looking to see if this Cocker Spaniel is a better Cocker Spaniel than this Shetland Sheepdog is a good Shetland Sheepdog. It's not a "this breed is better than this breed" competition. This is why you will sometimes unfortunately see an unsound dog win BIS, like a German Shepherd with bad hips or a Pekingese. The judge doesn't think they're actually the prettiest dog ever and what a pretty dog should look like, just that they best fit their breed standard. Unfortunately some breed standards emphasize traits that are unhealthy. A RESERVE BEST IN SHOW winner is also awarded for the "2nd place" dog.

There's also a separate BEST PUPPY IN SHOW competition for the BEST PUPPY IN GROUP winners to compete in. A puppy who already competed in the BIS ring might also compete in BPIS. However, if a puppy won Best in Show already, they will be automatically awarded Best Puppy in Show as well.

There may also be a Best Baby Puppy in Show competition, for the 3-6 month old puppies. They would have also had a group competition. The Baby Puppy category is meant to prepare future show dogs for the ring, so it is focused more on fun and providing a good experience for the babies.

A RECAP:

A dog will compete under their breed in a CLASS

Class winners will compete for WINNERS DOG and WINNERS BITCH

The 2 Winners will compete against the Champions for BEST OF BREED and BEST OF OPPOSITE SEX. The Winners will also be judged against each other for BEST OF WINNERS.

The Best of Breed for each breed in a group will compete for BEST OF GROUP. There are placings for 1st through 4th place.

The Best of Group of each of the 7 groups compete for BEST IN SHOW and RESERVE BEST IN SHOW.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids (pt.2)

[<- part 1]

"Oh, yeah," John jerks his head up like he just remembered the fact people are supposed to have names at all. He gestures to the kids, pointing to each of them as he introduces, "Daniel, Daniel, and Danielle."

This time, all three kids flip him off simultaneously. Bruce clears his throat, trying to figure out if Constantine is messing with him and, if so, in which parts. Since, so far, everything the man has said sounds like a poor attempt at pulling his leg.

"I don't think they like those," he cautiously says, and the kids whip their heads at him, nodding furiously. Bruce can't help but be just a little enamored with the way they behave.

"Of, sod off, at this point I don't care what they like," John straightens up with a dismissive, albeit weak, wave of his hands, and rubs his face, "They are menaces. Sometimes by accident, but mostly on purpose. Their grandfather thought it would be easier to handle them if they were not teenagers, and while I agreed with his reasoning at the time, I-" he glances at the kids, who all have displeased grimaces of various levels on their faces, "I have been made to reconsider. I swear that ancient bitch is laughing his ass off wherever he is now."

The kids suddenly grin. They are not very friendly, nor polite smiles - if anything, they look a bit nightmarish. An old grandfather's clock in his study makes a very loud ticking noise.

"See?" John whips his head to look at said clock, the expression on his face bordering on insane. His eye twitches.

If Bruce doesn't do anything now, he might become one of the very few people who managed to witness John Constantine, the Laughing Magician, have a meltdown. So he sighs and decides to solve the problems one at a time.

Which means that no matter how alarmed or suspicious he is, his first move would not be to interrogate either the man or the kids.

"You can sleep in one of the guest rooms, I trust you can find it on your own," he tells John, almost softly, as he catches the girl from slipping away from his lap, "Is there anything I need to know about children before you fall unconscious?"

John slumps with relief, so obviously that Bruce almost smiles. Hardships of raising - or, watching, for that matter - kids, he understands.

"Yes," he breathes out with an air of exhilaration and turns to the kids again, pointing to the middle child, "Danny is the original. He is from this dimension and timeline, that is. Dan," he turns his finger to the older boy, "is in the wrong timeline, he's Danny's future evil self redeemed into older bratty brother. Dani," he switches to the girl, "is Danny's clone, made by his arch-nemesis of a godfather. If she starts melting at any point, wake me up immediately. If any of them start floating, sprouting tentacles, speaking to walls in static, or glowing, don't."

Bruce looks down to the kids. So, definitely metas, that would explain the government trying to get them... Or, no, it wouldn't because he is fairly certain no government is going to blatantly ignore the Meta Protection Acts.

"Don't let them raise the dead, and if you give them food, make sure it doesn't have a face. If you find more than three of them, it means one of them has duplicated, don't worry, they will absorb it back later. Absolutely don't let them touch any guns," Constantine is backing down to the door as he speaks, his gaze flickering from the kids to Bruce and back every second. Like he is leaving a ticking bomb in Bruce's lap, and not three children. "Danny is, comparatively, the most responsible one, the other two are up for any dubious trouble they can get to at any moment. Oh, and their memories are wonky because of de-aging, they remember some things but not others, so if they say something particularly disturbing, it's most likely some random piece of knowledge they managed to keep."

Bruce raises an eyebrow. He did get the part about the kids being, well, abnormal in the matters of their origins, but the disjointed set of rules and advices doesn't help as much as Constantine probably thinks it does.

"Allergies, preferences, ages they were before?" He tries to get at least some more info down before John disappears through the door. Actually, maybe he should send someone to handcuff the man to the bed lest he disappears completely.

"None, but don't let them eat cutlery. Danny likes space, Dani has a thing for exploring, and Dan likes violence." The older kid stirs in Bruce's lap and says something in the direction of Constantine. No sound comes out, but the man seems to get what he's trying to say anyway, "Okay, yes, that was rude of me, sorry. Dan likes... exercise," he ends up with, and that placate the boy enough to slump down and cross his arms. John sighs, "They were seventeen, fourteen, and twenty respectively. Now," he snaps his fingers, and suddenly Bruce can hear the girl - Dani - humming a tune under her breath. So, he lifted the silence spell, it seems.

"Good fucking luck," John wishes to Bruce, earnestly, and all but vanishes away.

Bruce sighs and looks down to the kids.

"Are you hungry?" He tries, and all eyes are on him at once, attentive and unblinking.

"Fruitloops," Danny says, and while Bruce is positive that's the name for a cereal, he gets a feeling that's not what the kid meant.

[casuallyanidiot]

Yandere deer Hybrid with a hunter darling.

Tw.Nsfw themes! Dead dove do not eat!

Kidnapping, death, Yandere, MDNI

He's so regal and princely, with auburn colored curls framing his face like ribbon would a doll. Ciervus is a proud one, and he doesn't shy away from it. He stands taller than his peers, and his winding horns only add to his already imposing stature. He's a catch by all means: strong and intimidating to the point where no predator would mess with him and his future doe.

No one except you at least.

Ciervus is absolutely fascinated. He knows you're not something he should trust, but you've got so many things about you that he just can't tear his eyes from. Your hands are rough from handling your rifle all day, everyday, and you've got this permanent frown on your grimed streaked face. How odd. He thinks you'd be a cute doe, if you weren't fully human that is. He can't blame you for that, but it is a bit frustrating. He has his pick of potential mates, and if you just had little fuzzy ears or shiny black hooves, then he's sure he could've had you squealing and under him a long time ago.

He stamps his feet in frustration as he watches you. There's something thrilling about watching you settled in the underbrush, pointing your weapon at those he would consider his people. Every few days or so, someone he grew up with, frolicking in the spring once long ago, would disappear with only a loud bang and a streak of blood to signal their fate.

He knows it's bad to even seek you out. He could die. You would have no reservations about killing him after all. But Ciervus can't help the way his loins grow warm when he catches your scent through the trees. Even when you've dragged off the body of another poor deer, he's crouched, pressing his nose into the earth where you had sat in wait only hours before. There's something primal in the way he huffs your lingering smell off of the scattered leaves and smushed grass.

He wishes that you would know he was here, so that he could woo you properly.

Ciervus approaches you one day, and in his hands are his shed horns.

You're apprehensive, to be certain, but you let him come close. He feels shivers run up his spine. He can feel your body heat as he leans in close and presses his gift into your hands. He doesn't know why for sure you hunt those like him, but he thinks the antlers might have to do with it. He doesn't care all that much. You can't shoot him from this angle, pressed up against your back with his teeth grazing over your skin. He can feel you freeze up, and he grins at the though that this might be the first time you've ever felt like prey out here in these woods.

He lets his hands wander, dipping down the curve of your waist. You smell like death, iron, and sulfur, like you're a devil haunting this place. He relishes your pounding heart, and his lips press into the thrumming pulse point. It's then he reaches back and presses his fallen antlers to you. He figures you should have them. They take a year to grow and fall off, and he's spent that time yearning for you. It's only fair that the human tangled in greenery is the one who gets it.

"You deserve these," He whispers and finally pulls back. You're too shocked to do anything but sit there with eyes almost as wide as his and watch as he disappears.

After that day Ciervus becomes more brazen. He starts to stalk after you. He knows that to you, he's just some weird fawn with a death wish. Maybe he is, but that doesn't mean he'll let you kill him so easily. He gives you so many reasons not to.

He knows that other deer trust him. He knows that to the other woodland critter, he's just an innocent face that is not to be messed with. In that sense, he knows he can be of use to you. For as much as he follows you, you now also follow him. It sends a thrill down his spine, knowing that the barrel of your rifle is trailed after him. If he was going to lose his life to anyone, he'd want it to be you and not some drooling, snarling creature that would tear his beautiful face into a bloody mess. But he wants more time with you, so he leads you to other hybrids.

A fox, a goose, a wolf, other deer, it doesn't matter. You learn quickly, and you know that where he goes, there's an easy catch.

You vanish into the dark tree line, a body dragged behind you, and each night he lets you leave. You always return for some reason or another, and he doesn't fear the lack of you. At least he doesn't until you're gone for over two weeks.

Ciervus is beside himself. It's the first time that he's been without you for this long, and he begins to wonder if you'll ever come back. He's especially volatile during then. He fights any other young buck that come near, his nostrils flaring and his little tail wagging in utter annoyance. He expands his territory in an attempt to see if you went anywhere else, if you finally decided you were done with him.

When you appear once more, face blank and unchanged, he decided he can no longer take it. You must think nothing of him. Truly what a little fool you are. You must learn. You have to understand how he feels, and that he will have you even if it kills him.

He doesn't lead you to another hybrid this time, and he feels his cock twitch when he sees the frustration on your face. Oh...you were looking for him. It's a gratifying notion, and he bites his plump lip in excitement. He lets you go about your normal routine, but this time when you start to take your hunt for the day and leave the woods, he follows.

He's never left the sanctity of the woods. Not once in his entire life. There's this twisted sort of pride that fills him knowing that he's doing this for you. And as he peers inside your little cabin nestled along the roadside, he knows that the only reason why he would be doing any of this is because you're going to be his mate.

Your home is filled with the smell of iron and chemicals that burn his nose, but he watches from your window as you wrap a stiffening body (A rabbit hybrid this time) in a tarp and wait for a rumbling truck to come and take it away. He can see you be vulnerable in a way you'd never been before. Your bulky hunting gear is off, and he can finally see just how little you are compared to him in all his hulking glory. His ears twitch. You really are just a little doe.

He waits for you to relax, sitting on your bed and yawning as you prepare to rest for the day. He strikes then, breaking your window and yanking you out with little regard for how the glass cuts into you on the way out. His lithe and bulging arms wrap tightly around your midriff and knock the air out of you. He smiled at the way you try to fight despite struggling to breathe. He croons and presses a kiss to your cheek. He suspected as much when he gave you his antlers, but you really aren't all that strong, are you? At least not enough to fight him off.

He shushes you and shoves two thick fingers into your mouth when you try to scream, and a wide, unnatural smile crosses his lovely face.

"Shhh, shh its okay- ow! Hnh, haha, I guess I deserved that. No more biting, okay little doe?" He murmurs as he pets your hair and drags you further into the forest. It's so dark, and he knows that your human eyes won't be able to see where he's taking you. He takes you to a little cave decorated all pretty with soft furs, flowers, and moss. He sets you down, thrashing and screeching, into a little nest he's made.

He knows you think you're strong, but he's going to make sure you know your place. You were never really meant to be a hunter, you were always meant to be the strong mate he deserved.

His large hand reaches down and finds your ankle, catching it from where you tried to kick his sides. His wide, dark eyes peer down at you, and he smiles. Oh he how he loves you, but you're far too stubborn. Even now you're clawing at his arms, and his face crinkles apologetically.

"Little doe, this is for your own good," He says with a firm tone. You part your lips to argue, but a sickening crunch reverberates throughout the cold, stone walls of the cave. You let out a bloodcurdling scream as your leg twitches in pain. He releases your now broken ankle, and he wipes away your tears as he puts extra padding around your wounded foot.

"There there, don't cry. Shhh, shhh you're okay. I'll take care of you," He soothes and presses you down. You're a little heap of sobs, and his heart squeezes painfully. "Don't worry, little doe. I'll be a good mate. I'll wait until you're allllllll better before I start trying to get you used to me down here," He says softly as he presses his hand to your clothed crotch. He feels you flinch away, and Cervius can only chuckle.

"I know, I know, we won't do that until you feel better," He assures you and presses his palm over your mouth to muffle the insults and screams that were trying to escape that pretty mouth of yours. He waits until you pass you before he finally relaxes and snuggles up against you.

He's finally caught you. His little doe. His prey.

[writeriguess]

instead talking about Bakugou a little older than the reader? he in comparison has had a lot of experiences compared to her, but she in fact feels insecure about this, and would like some reassurance, but at a certain point Bakugou has a fit of jealousy and at that point she makes him understand how much he loves her, it would be too cute🎀 (+smut) THANKS

You had always admired Bakugou Katsuki from afar. His fiery personality, his unrelenting drive, and his overwhelming confidence made him impossible to ignore. Now, being with him felt like a dream—but sometimes, that dream turned into insecurity. After all, he was older, more experienced, and you often found yourself wondering if you measured up.

You sat at the edge of the bed, fidgeting with your fingers. Bakugou was pacing the room, towel draped over his neck after a long, hard day. His messy blond hair was still damp from the shower, and the muscles in his back flexed with every movement. As you watched him, the words that had been bothering you for days finally tumbled out.

“Katsuki… you’ve been with more people, right?”

His movements froze mid-step, and he turned to look at you, brows furrowing in confusion. “Huh? Where’s this coming from?”

You lowered your gaze, unsure of how to voice the insecurities swirling inside you. “It’s just… you’ve done a lot. Been with people, had more experiences. And I’m just—well, I feel like I’m behind. What if I’m not enough for you?”

His eyes softened, but there was a fire flickering behind them. In a few quick strides, he was standing in front of you, towering over your smaller frame. He lifted your chin with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Are you kidding me?” Bakugou’s voice was low, almost a growl. “You think I care about any of that?”

You blinked, the knot of anxiety in your chest loosening just a little. “I mean, you’ve done so much already, and I’m just… I don’t know, Katsuki. I feel like you deserve someone who’s on your level.”

His scowl deepened, but this time it wasn’t directed at you. “Tch, you’re an idiot sometimes, y’know that? You think I’m with you for your ‘experience’?” He crouched down to your eye level, his intense crimson eyes burning into yours. “I’m with you because you’re you. Don’t need anyone else, don’t want anyone else. Got it?”

You felt your heart swell at his words, but before you could fully process the warmth, Bakugou’s expression darkened, and he stood back up.

“Wait… is that why you’ve been talkin’ to that extra from your class? The one always hangin’ around you?” His fists clenched, and you could practically see the jealousy bubbling up in him. His jaw tightened as if just the thought of it made his blood boil. “You think you need someone like him instead of me?”

Realization hit you like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t mad at you. He was jealous. Bakugou, for all his confidence and bravado, was actually worried about losing you.

“Katsuki, no,” you said, standing up and grabbing his arm. His muscles were tense, but you held on firmly. “He’s just a friend. No one comes close to you. No one could ever replace you.”

He turned his head away, still refusing to meet your eyes, but you could tell his resolve was cracking. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your cheek to his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat filled your ears.

“I love you, Katsuki,” you whispered against his skin. “You’re all I need. I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt that.”

Bakugou’s hands hesitated before they finally settled on your hips, pulling you closer to him. His grip tightened as if he was scared to let you go.

“I’m the one who’s supposed to say that,” he muttered, his voice softer now. “I love you, idiot.”

The vulnerability in his tone made your heart flutter. You tilted your head up, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. He responded immediately, his hands sliding up your back, his lips demanding yet gentle against yours. The kiss deepened, and you felt yourself being backed up against the bed, your legs hitting the edge.

“Katsuki…” you breathed out as he guided you down onto the mattress, his body hovering over yours.

His eyes darkened with desire, the jealousy from earlier replaced by an intense need to remind you just how much you meant to him. He kissed you again, this time with more urgency, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His hands roamed over your body, fingertips pressing into your skin as if he was trying to memorize every inch of you.

“You’re mine,” he murmured against your collarbone, his voice rough with need. “No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to see you like this.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him. “I’m yours, Katsuki. Only yours.”

Bakugou’s lips crashed against yours again, his hands sliding under your shirt, fingers tracing the curves of your body. You gasped as his touch ignited a fire inside you, and before you knew it, your clothes were discarded, leaving you bare beneath him.

He paused for a moment, his gaze raking over your body as if he was trying to commit the sight to memory. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, but the sincerity in it made your heart skip a beat.

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands. “Katsuki… I love you.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerable side of him that he rarely showed anyone. He leaned down, kissing you softly before whispering against your lips, “I love you too.”

Katsuki’s hands were anything but steady as he started fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. His fingers, usually so sure and precise, trembled slightly in a way that was endearing—like even he was nervous despite how confident he usually seemed. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his eyes locked onto yours as his brows furrowed in frustration.

“Damn thing,” he muttered, his impatience getting the best of him.

You chuckled softly, reaching up to still his hands. “Here, let me help,” you whispered, your fingers gently brushing against his. His gaze softened for a moment, and he watched as you slowly undid the rest of the buttons yourself.

As the fabric parted, revealing more of your skin, Katsuki’s eyes darkened with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. He slid his hands over your now exposed skin, his touch sending sparks of warmth through your body. You shivered, not from the cold but from the electric connection that pulsed between you.

“Katsuki,” you breathed his name, drawing him closer as your blouse slipped off your shoulders, landing softly on the floor. His mouth found yours again, but this time, his kiss was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every second. His hands moved to your waist, fingers digging into your skin just enough to remind you of the possessiveness he had over you.

“Don’t know why you worry so much,” he murmured against your lips before kissing down your jawline to your neck. “You’re all I ever want.”

His words melted your insecurities, and you tilted your head back to give him better access. Each kiss, each graze of his teeth against your skin, sent a wave of warmth coursing through you. Your fingers tangled in his messy blond hair, pulling him closer as his lips moved lower.

“You’re perfect, you hear me?” Katsuki’s voice was rough, breathless, his jealousy from earlier forgotten as his focus shifted entirely to you. “No one else could ever come close to making me feel like this.”

You couldn’t help but smile through the haze of warmth and desire that clouded your mind. “You always know what to say, Katsuki.”

His response was a low growl of approval, his lips grazing your collarbone as his hands roamed lower, exploring the newly exposed skin. Every touch, every kiss, reaffirmed what you already knew: you were all he wanted, just as he was all you needed.

Katsuki’s lips trailed down your chest, his hot breath fanning across your skin, leaving a tingling sensation wherever it touched. The tension in the room thickened, his hands now tracing over the curves of your waist, gripping your hips with a possessive yet tender touch. As his lips hovered just above the edge of your bra, he paused, glancing up at you with those intense crimson eyes.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, laced with need. He kissed the swell of your breast softly, almost as if he was holding himself back.

You let out a shaky breath, fingers still tangled in his hair. “Katsuki…”

Hearing his name on your lips like that seemed to spark something in him. His hands moved to the clasp of your bra, and this time, there was no fumbling. He made quick work of it, tossing the fabric aside before lowering his head, lips grazing the newly exposed skin. His kisses turned hotter, more desperate, as his tongue flicked over one of your nipples, making you gasp and arch into him.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured between kisses, his hands roaming your body like he couldn’t get enough of you. Every touch set your skin on fire, each kiss pulling you further into the storm that was Bakugou Katsuki.

You could feel the tension building between you both, the room growing hotter with every second. You tugged at his shirt, pulling it off him in one swift motion, eager to feel his skin against yours. His muscles flexed under your touch, his body hard and warm as he pressed himself closer to you, almost as if he needed to feel every inch of you against him.

“Katsuki,” you breathed, your voice shaky with anticipation. “I need you…”

The words seemed to unravel something inside him. His lips crashed against yours again, and in a rush, his hands went to the waistband of your skirt. In one swift movement, he pulled it down, taking your panties with it, leaving you completely bare before him.

He paused for a moment, eyes raking over your body, as if he needed to take you in—every inch, every curve, burning the image of you into his mind.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he said, voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

Before you could respond, he was on you again, his hands sliding down your thighs, parting them gently as he settled between them. The intensity in his eyes, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly despite his strong grip, only fueled your desire. You reached for him, tugging at the waistband of his pants, needing to feel him, needing to close the distance that still remained between you.

“Katsuki, please…” you whispered, your voice heavy with need.

That seemed to snap whatever control he had left. In a blur of motion, his pants were discarded, and he hovered over you, his skin warm against yours as he pressed his forehead to yours. His breath came in ragged gasps, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you—nothing else mattered.

“I love you,” he murmured, the words raw, almost vulnerable as he aligned himself with you.

Before you could respond, he thrust into you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. You gasped at the sensation, your back arching off the bed as pleasure overwhelmed your senses. Katsuki groaned, his head dropping to the crook of your neck as he held himself still for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of him inside you.

“You feel… so damn good,” he breathed, his voice strained with the effort it took to stay still.

You wrapped your arms around his back, nails digging into his skin as you whispered his name, urging him to move. And he did, slowly at first, his hips rolling against yours with a delicious rhythm that had you trembling beneath him. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, your mind going hazy as you lost yourself in him.

Katsuki’s pace quickened, the desperation in his movements mirroring your own. He pressed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as his hips snapped against yours, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling you even closer, deeper, as if he wanted to merge with you entirely.

“I’m yours,” you gasped, your breath hitching as the coil of pleasure in your stomach tightened with every thrust. “Only yours, Katsuki…”

His response was a low growl, his grip tightening as he drove into you harder, faster. “That’s right,” he panted, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re mine… all mine.”

The intensity of his words, the sheer possessiveness in his voice, pushed you over the edge. With a cry, your body tightened around him, pleasure exploding through you in waves as your climax washed over you. Katsuki followed soon after, his body shuddering against yours as he found his own release, groaning your name as he buried himself deep inside you one last time.

For a moment, the world was silent, save for the sound of your heavy breathing, both of you clinging to each other as you came down from the high.

Katsuki collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his fingers brushing through your hair as he held you close.

“I love you,” he whispered again, quieter this time, but just as sincere.

You smiled, snuggling into his warmth as you whispered back, “I love you too, Katsuki. Always.”

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Because I think I might get around writing for most of the men at some point for the future au I wanted to see or already arrange how many kids they would have

Jin would have two kids in complete accident, he was very happy by his father's discontent at his heir's lack of kids but things happened, the person who celebrated them the most was the grampa. Maybe two boys or a boy and a baby girl.

Thoma screams girl dad, doesn't he? Just imagine him braiding her hair for evening tea and being a menace to any boys she brings home with Alan if they break her heart, he is still a delinquent at heart.

For Luca I'm split between wanting him to have two boys to mirror him and his brother or a spoiled girl he plays knight for, sigh, such a hard decision...

Kaito, how did he reproduce?

Alan, two kids, one of each, no hesitation, he has a ‘little princess’ who he is nervous of hurting accidentally when he holds her but is as much of a wild beast as his brother. They like going hiking and getting chased by their dad when they get too close to a lake or too far away from the path.

In Leo’s scenario i see him with a daughter that managed to soften out his meanness (while she is around so she doesn't pick up on much of his sass, kids don't make miracles) and left him with another on the way that I also feel would be another girl. He is just a bit annoyed he doesn't have to redo the nursery for content but whatever.

Sho I KNOW that in his fic I said ‘nephew’ but imagine a baby girl that was playing with her family before she was even born and had you two scattering to find a girl's name at the hospital. It's just the beginning of her mischievous streak. Sho thinks it's his karma from being a thug as a teen.

I don't know why but I can see Romeo having three kids? Maybe because Gucci had like five kids or it's to a certain degree to assure himself the MC wants to stay with him and wouldn't leave out of the blue 💔 attachment issues bb.

Ritsu originally only wanted one child, he was an only child and was happy getting all the attention, but not everything went as he planned so he got twin boys.

Taiga, why would you do this to yourself??

Haru already has a son, peekaboo, but when he grows up he accidentally has a boy who he starts giving some minor tasks around, separating some leaves for the animals, brushing peekaboo’s hair, plucking weeds, etc etc. Don't look at him like that! He need all the help he can get.

Towa has girls! They like fairy tales with happy endings and always bother their dad to tell them your love story. When they become toddlers they go through a vegan phase to mimick him and will cry if they have meat or egg on their plate.

Ren was 99% sure he was going to die a virgin. He ends up with a girl he plays games with everyday after work. Borderline ipad kid.

Can grandpa Ed even have kids? Lol if he has I think I could see him with just one vampy baby that sits next to him and drinks tears off a sippy cup while his dad watches iceberg videos. Another ipad kid.

Rui (if somehow you broke his curse) is someone who I don't think would have kids, or at least not planned jajs but maybe one girl that he ends up overprotecting from playboy men like him in his youth.

Lyca I want to say they have a litter just for the joke of him being a werewolf but he doesn't seem to have any siblings so the joke doesn't get far :(

I see Subaru with only one child if any. He loves the little thing but feels he is intruding on their privacy, whenever he touches his preteen/teen kid he feels sorry enough to apologize.

I see Haku as someone who would be pretty chill with his life after Darkwick and go along with it as it happened. If you two had a child, great; if you didn't, great too. Very go with the flow parenting too.

Zenji he is dead wth jajajaj

Yuri NEEDS a little child that is always so impressed with their papa and he gets to brag about being the best or something. Please just don't let him be a strict teacher so your kid will follow his steps, he thinks it's for the best of their future but you can coerce him into just giving a very lengthy lecture about anomalous medicine without tests.

Jiro HAS to have a boy that is so similar to his uncle 🥹 always cooing since he is able to vocalize and chasing his dad around to get uppies while he tends to the backyard filled with herbs.

[bekolxeram]

The ever so observant @misterapril pointed out in this post that there may be a fake plane crash scenario on Hotshots while a real one (possibly with Athena onboard) is happening, explaining the 2 different planes we see in bts material.

I've mentioned numerous times before, this cockpit mock up belongs to an aircraft from the A320s family.

The cockpit mockup seems to be from the same type of aircraft as well. It's a narrow body judging by the proportion, and the 2 Boeing narrow body airliners (737 and 757) both have cabin doors working like a regular door, namely rotation outwards to open. While all Airbus doors pop straight out and move to the side without rotating.

B737 door vs A320 door

This aircraft on the other hand looks more like a wide body to me, simply because a narrow body airliner doesn't have enough ground clearance to fit a whole firetruck under its wing. It's a Boeing for sure, look at the cockpit windows. I'm leaning towards it being a 767 instead of a 777, simply because a 777 should be a bit larger and I see no winglet on the wing (can be a perspective issue, 777 has raked wingtips that might not show up if you take a photo leveled with the wings).

Well, thanks to @misterapril, I've just noticed something that should be super obvious if I wasn't blinded by the plane.

This is not the Ontario Airport tower.

So we know Angela filmed something at ONT terminal 2. The hangar with all the firetrucks and ambulances is also there. What you may not know is that said hangar is right next to the ONT control tower, so I always assumed the night scene with the Boeing plane and the 119 truck was also filmed there.

But guys, they're not the same tower.

The one behind the firetruck is the San Bernardino Airport tower.

In fact, I'm pretty sure I know exactly where they filmed this particular scene, taking into consideration other landmarks visible in the same bts photo.

I think this video posted by Kenny was filmed in the same location.

I believe they are the same building. You can judge it on your own by watching this clip. It's also the only area within the airfield with highway like markings, leading straight out of a fire station.

Why is this piece of information important you may ask? Well, we've been speculating the 2 different planes conundrum might be due to budget/production constraint. In S1, the show bought an actual 757 from an airplane boneyard in Arizona and shipped it piece by piece to California. It was such a headache.

Do you know San Bernardino Airport is also a boneyard? I can imagine Tim says, "don't worry about logistics, we're taking the filming straight to the boneyard this time!" So everything is possible, you have all sorts of retired airliners you can play with for cheap. There's also the possibility that the Boeing we see is just parked nearby, maybe it has nothing to do with filming.

Do you know what else San Bernardino Airport has? A USFS air base. In 7x04 they used the Helinet hangar and its (mostly news) helicopters for the Harbor tour scene, right? San Bernardino is filled with actual firefighting air tankers and helicopters. Perhaps they would be generous enough to let the show take a few shots of a certain helicopter flying around, I don't know, saving people?

EDIT: From the same bts video Kenny posted, I think they're standing under the horizontal stabilizer of a plane? I might be seeing things, and it's not very important, just curious.

[slasher-jaxshitposts]

TW: vent

I hate not having any control over my own life. I hate not being allowed to choose what I wear, what I do, and what I control. I hate being told to do the dishes everytime the sink is full, I hate being the family therapist, I hate not being allowed to relax without being shamed for it.

I tell my sisters no to something that will make a mess if I don't watch them closely, then being forced to give it to them anyways by THEIR father and still have to clean up THEIR mess.

I hate having to do the dishes when their are other people in the house who can do it, then being told the way I do it is wrong.

I hate being threatened to have my hair ripped out of my skull if I don't do what I'm told.

I hate being told I look TOO good in something by my mother and then those pants or that shirt get taken from me and put in my moms drawer.

I hate being told that only skanks wear cropped tops and not to walk around in only a bra and some shorts when I'm hot because my dad (step-dad) is in the house, or he has friends over that he could bring them in, but my mom wears crop tops, and she walks around in the store, at other peoples houses and other PUBLIC places in just a bra.

^But when I walk around OUR house, I'm asking for it

I hate wanting my hair cut, and eventually getting to the point where I want to cut it myself, but I can't. Wanna know why? Cause I'll get my ass beat for doing something I've been BEGGING my mom to do for the past year or so.

i hate being told the hair cut I want is too short, or too boy like, or it doesn't match my face, that it'll make me look ugly.

I hate being expected to let my mother rant to me, but get scolded if I try talking about my feeling with her.

I hate telling my mom things I wanna do, then her tell me no and that I have to do something because she had to.

I hate being told not to let people see me cry, not to let people see me weak, not to let them think I'm weak, then being told I should cry more, and let my feelings out when my dog gets killed.

I hate having to fake my tears so that my mom thinks I'm alright.

I hate that every time I sit down I'm automatically not doing anything, that I'm always so lazy, that I don't do anything.

I hate being the one who has to talk myself out of panic attacks, then when I tell my mom, she just tells me not to let myself.

"Why are you putting yourself the panic attack? Why are you letting it beat you?" She says

But god forbid if one of my sisters start having a panic attack. And I get it, their 5 and 7, yes worry about them, but I'm 15, I want my mom to about me like that.

I hate feeling like I have to fight my feelings.

I hate wanting to be a man just so I can feel some kind of control, and I still don't feel like I can control anything.

I hate the way my step-father has made me hate men, but I still want their love.

I hate feeling like I need to fight for love.

I hate the empty "I love you"'s that come out of my mom, and stepdads mouths.

I hate the fact that I still love my mom, despite the things she's put me through.

I hate feeling like I'm never enough, like if I'm of no use to anyone, then why should they love or care about me?

I hate feeling like everyone expects so highly of me, and then are significantly disappointed when they actually get to know me.

I hate not feeling much of anything besides anxiety, fear, and anger.

I hate feeling smaller than everyone else.

I hate having to create different personas for every person I meet, just so I can be liked.

I hate not being allowed to be myself.

I hate feeling like crap everytime I'm not comfortable with doing something, because if I'm of no use to you, why should you care for/about me?

I hate not being able to focus on one project, and then feeling terrible because I never finished something.

I hate feeling sorry for others more than I do myself.

I hate not knowing when my next meal will be.

I hate being shamed for not eating because "we have plenty of food."

I hate having issues with certain textures of food, and having to go hungry because I don't like what my mom fixed.

I hate not liking certain tastes, then being forced to eat it, because I'm tired of starving myself.

I hate feeling like I'm bothering everyone else because of my feelings.

I hate feeling bad for snapping at my sisters, when they didn't even do anything wrong.

I hate being shamed for how little I eat, and how much I sleep.

I hate how I never get a break.

I hate getting shamed for taking a break.

I hate how my mom and step dad don't care about my hobbies unless it makes money that they can emotionally manipulate me into giving them.

I hate feeling like I can't trust anyone.

I hate losing weight, but still looking fat.

I hate wishing I had more things wrong with me, just so I feel like I have a reason to complain.

But most importantly...

I hate myself

And I'm sorry if you actually read all of this. You shouldn't have to listen to some stranger that you don't even truly know on the internet. Because you don't know me, no one knows me. They know a carefully designed version of me that was made just for them.

@puppet200 @purpleeggyboi @th3-r4t-48 @zeroisreallygood @im-a-simp898 @luciluck2046 @evry1h8s-me @aflairforthemelodramaticc @caretaleandotherstuff

[bougiebutchbitch]

I'm not in the ofmd fandom but I am intrigued by the drama. spill the tea?

OH GOD OKAY

Where do I begin lksdlgkfds

Okay so

There’s this nasty little gremlin-man in ofmd called Izzy Hands. He’s a sour, mean, skrunkly, disabled little cunt who is a firm believer in Respect and Discipline (in a very queer subby way).

This is to say: he is. Explicitly. Queer. He does drag on the show, and has a whole coming-out scene. He is a kinky masochist. He confesses his love for another man, and basically ruins his own life & everyone else's, because he is sooooo pathetically jealous about this man (his captain!) falling for some milquetoast loser white rich guy, when Izzy, a badass leather-wearing working-class sword-swinging swashbuckler, is right there making puppy-eyes at him.

He's wrong! He's horrid! He's a bastard, pickled in piss and vinegar! He's five-foot-nothing of spite and gay self-loathing! He's very fun to watch, and very, very queer.

People still insist that he’s straight. And racist. Despite there being 0 textural evidence to support this, and the creators of the show repeatedly saying that this is absolutely not what they wrote.

Why do people hate him so much? Simple! Because he ‘got in the way’ of the main ship.

Yup. It’s basically ‘bash the girl who gets in the way of our m/m otp’ only the girl is a grizzled 50-something year old pirate.

The main ship, btw, is between Ed Teach, an awesome complex flawed hopeful beautiful character of colour; and Stede Bonnet, another awesome complex flawed character. Who is a white guy. And who happens to be a rich plantation owner from the 1700s. Based on A LITERAL SLAVE OWNER. Who is explicitly shown to be a Problematic White Guy with fucked-up racist views.

Like. He’s not a perfect guy. The show makes this very, very clear - to the point where Stede pushes Ed into sex super-fast immediately after Ed says he wants to go slow, and this makes Ed run away and freak out.

But somehow, Certain Fans still insist that Izzy is to blame because :checks notes: he makes one cheeky, friendly joke about them finally getting together that is clearly given & received in good spirits.

Yeah.

There's a lot of this cognitive dissonance going on. And it's very, very wilful.

Basically: a certain subset of people who ship Ed and Stede refuse to exercise the slightest bit of critical thought of Stede’s views and actions (which are a representation of the white landed gentry!) but insist on maliciously twisting literally everything Izzy says or does to cast him as The Ultimate Villain. Whereas anyone watching the show can tell that he starts off as an antagonist-with-a-deeply-hidden-heart-of-gold, whose entire arc is about growth and redemption.

I think 99% of this is projection. Stede and Ed are not perfect by any means, but these people are so dead-set on shipping a Cute Fluffy Romance (when that. Really isn’t what the show gave us) that they have to create a villain out of Izzy and blame all of Stede and Ed’s fucked-up choices and actions on him, in the most contrived ways. Which has the added bonus of them deciding that Izzy, a white guy, is somehow responsible for literally ALL of Ed’s genuinely awful, abusive, and interesting choices in S2, where he went on his villain arc. Even though Izzy was the main victim of this villain arc. Rather than, y’know, giving Ed the agency to make his own damn decisions and acknowledging that he is a flawed and fascinating character who Hurts People but still deserves a happy ending, like literally every other main character on ofmd. Nope. Gotta infantalise that man of colour and pretend he has no control over his own life and his morality is goverened by the white men around him!

Then, they get to portray Stede as his white saviourTM who swoops in and saves Ed from ‘his own darkness’ with the power of love. 😊 because that’s not Problematique in the slightest 😊

It’s… fucked up, to put it plainly. But honestly, as much as there is a problem with their dogged insistence that Izzy is the root of all iniquity on the show, and that Ed and Stede are pure perfect angels who never did any wrong... what was worse was the relentless harassment enacted by that side of the fandom against anyone who dared show a liking for Izzy’s character. Like, it’s not the worst fandom out there by any means, but it really did make the fandom feel hostile to anyone who didn’t ship the main ship.

SO - yeah. That's the tea! OFMD was a fun show with lots of cool flawed characters. But the fandom was a cesspit, fuelled mostly by a Certain Group Of Fans' desperation to make their ship Perfect and Morally Pure - which resulted in them throwing an interesting, well-rounded, morally grey queer disabled character under the bus, and harrassing anyone who enjoyed him.

[olderthannetfic]

I find it really sad when proshippers partake in "cringe culture" so to speak. you can't build your platform on anti-harassment and then make fun of people for being into something you deem stupid/trash/etc.

Like, I know in my mind that proshipping is more about anti-censorship and being pro "darker" stuff so to speak, and that it's not REALLY built on "we shouldn't make fun of people for reading/watching Stupid Stuff" but shouldn't the two be connected? I'd honestly argue that the latter argument is a stepping stool to the former?

Because how can you reblog "all ships are good ships" "ship and let ship" and then make fun of someone for being for an adult who still ships Steven Universe characters? How can you post "RPF is fine" but then make fun of that person on stan twitter who's a bit too into kpop rpf?

just makes me sad. The people who have made fun of me for the most for my MCU hyperfixation are my fellow proshippers. I've unfollowed people for posting book-tok screenshots that are clearly just mocking the OP for the fact that they read Colleen Hoover or whatever.

And I'm not talking about privately shittalking something, or just hating something in general; I'm not not even really talking about laughing at the *media/media creator itself* and criticizing it. I mean, I myself still laugh at the "read another book" Harry Potter meme (which, if i really need to add a disclaimer, i am DEFINITELY not talking about people who think it's weird and fucked up af that some people still like JKR as a person because. . .how can you at this point?). Moreso I mean people who claim to be SOOOO anti harassment and SOOOO pro-all-forms-of-art-even-'bad'-art (whether the art be bad in a moral way or in a creative way, whatever "art" "bad" "moral" and "creative" even MEAN because it changes with everyone.)

Obviously no one is going to like every single piece of art ever, and it's, imho, really human to be a "hater" to some degree! I just have a problem when someone genuinely makes fun of the FANS of something or thinks that someone is less intellectual just because the someone in general likes Disney/Twilight/Taylor Swift/Hamilton/whatever. No one gives af if you think a certain writing or acting style is cringe, but if you think the fans are cringe, that says more about you than it does about the fandom.

(also as a send off -- all the 'yous' i said here were general, def not directed at anyone on this blog. I'm just venting and this seems like the best place to do so where people will agree with my words.)

--

[maxwell-grant]

The Penguin: Episode 1 Breakdown

Thank you Lauren LeFranc, Mike Marino, Colin Farrell and Matt Reeves, we owe you the world for this, good God. It's finally here everyone and I've decided I'm gonna give each episode it's own post/breakdown of thoughts, because hahaha holy shit you guys this is beyond what I even dreamed of, and we're gonna be covering this for a while I think. I've worked out enough madness about this out of my system by talking with friends and I can't seem to be able to work on anything else till I get this done, so let's do it.

Bottom line: This isn't even just a must-watch if you like the Penguin or if you like The Batman, this is something I'd recommend to just about anyone in a heartbeat, something I can point to when people ask "why do you like The Penguin so much" and, instead of the elaborate nerd ramble that usually turns them off, I can just tell them to watch this. A friend of mine (who already loves Batman and digs the Penguin quite a bit) even told me as much, that he's starting to get why I love the character so much, and truly, is there a better feeling than this? Well, there is, and it's watching the show. Let's dig into this first episode:

Right upfront I'm gonna say that this doesn't really seem to be the Sopranos rip-off that people have been calling it before release, although there are definitely Sopranos comparisons to make here. I've spent the past months finally watching The Sopranos in order to get the comparison and definitely want to talk about those comparisons after I finish it (and this show ends). This thing aims to stand on it's own legs as a crime show and it's smashing out of the gate with an extremely promising first episode.

So this just casually opens with the reveal that all along, there was a second rich Gotham the whole time that was completely unaffected by everything we saw in the movie, already throwing a great twist on the events of that movie, and further reinforcing how fucking full of shit The Riddler was. All we saw Batman and the others deal with in the movie was just affecting the poorer parts of the city. All Eddie did was drown rats, and make life worse for the people already in the bottom, while never even getting close to targeting the systemic rot that ruined his life. He retains ideological worshippers in subways obsessed with the corruption of the city without doing anything to actually improve it, and because of him, the streets of Gotham are waterlogged shitholes while the rich Falcone suburbs are doing just fine, peachy even.

I said a while back that, in spite of having about 6 scenes/10 minutes of Penguin runtime, The Batman managed to squeeze impeccably controlled Penguin Trademark Scenes, and this show opens with the last one they didn't get to then: Penguin killing someone for making fun of him. In the movie, he tries doing that with Falcone and is beaten to the punch, so here he gets to actually do it to disastrous consequences.

Fucking adore that the inciting incident of the show is based on the fallout of Oswald killing someone for making fun of him. He pours his heart about the dream he lives his life for, his new boss makes fun of him for being an embarassment to their profession and then he does the most typical Penguin thing by killing him for it and laughing afterwards. And then he realizes how badly he fucked up, and then we get a fucking perfect titledrop with his musical theme, the exact moment we finish The Batman and enter The Penguin.

God it is so fucking cool how the make-up/lighting, the scar across his face, makes it look like he's got a genuine beak from certain angles, how they're able to achieve that effect without giving him a more literal beak for a nose. Everytime they talk about the character, Reeves and Farrell always emphasize how integral the make-up was to them figuring out what to do with Oz, how little they knew what to make of his six scenes until Marino created their monster and suddenly everything fell into place. Mike Marino fully deserves co-credit for the creation of Oz.

Pretty amusing that Victor, as designed to be Penguin's Robin, has exactly the same origin as Jason Todd, a poor street kid trying to steal the hubcaps off the Penguinmobile (I'm sure this bodes very well for his odds at survival), as is the way in which Oz goes on about his recruitment. He press-gangs this kid at gunpoint to help him bury a body arguing with himself and eventually the kid why shouldn't he just kill him to be safe, while trying to impress the kid with his car and air freshener and later that bullshit about "What, you think I hire any schmuck off the street?". From the tile drop onwards, he's doing everything on the fly while also spinning long-term plans set in motion as soon as he's on screen, he's taking this kid in out of sympathy and because he enjoys a power dynamic over someone weaker than him and because he very much needs someone to help him get stuff done. I'm extremely interested in exploring Penguin having a mentorship dynamic and I'm beyond curious as to what happens with Victor from this point onwards, but that poor kid is in for a terrible fucking time.

Found it very funny how much he half-asses the murder threat to Victor. Like it's his first time actually doing it and he's trying to be serious, but not too scary because he's already seeing himself in the poor kid with a stutter and wants the kid to think he's also a cool guy like he wants everyone to think he's a cool guy. I also think having Victor as the POV helps to sell moments like these, because it's still terrifying to him. Even as we follow their stories, these power players of Gotham are still big scary monsters to people caught in the dregs and Victor helps to reinforce that.

I enjoy Oz being friends with sex workers and drag queens off the street as much as I enjoy Oz being depicted as the kind of guy who deludes himself into thinking the prostitute he's with actually likes him, Lauren and Farrell launched into a bit about in on the podcast and I'm curious to see what's going on with him and Eve here.

Lots of perfect funny little character moments across the whole thing. Oz insulted by the idea of taking extra pickles off a poor kid's dirty mouth, but with zero hesitation whatsoever for picking jewelry off his boss' corpse. Dude is governed by principles even as he actively has to break them to survive.

"Technically it's plum." "He is the - or was the - new kingpin", "He's got nurse-like qualities." The show is not overtly trying to get you to find Penguin likeable as much as it wants you to find him engaging - making you think he's likeable is Colin Farrell's job and he's masterful at it, definitely a lot more matured within the character compared to the movie.

If there's anything in particular I'm thankful for regarding Gotham (well okay Gotham led directly to Telltale Penguin which was the basis for this one, so really I do have a lot more to be thankful with Gotham), it's the decision to give him a legit waddle via the broken foot, but the way they incorporate it here with the club foot does so much for him, so much as a modern day reinvention of The Penguin. Adds so much to why he's never been a serious candidate for mob leadership, why he kinda had to spend all his time in the Lounge, why he actually needs someone to help him run affairs, why he has such a gaping ego wound and is so murderously angry at people making fun of him / calling him a goddamn penguin, adds so much validation and so much darkness and nuance to Oswald's overwhelming anger and bitterness over how the world treats him (and so much power should he opt to reclaim it, in turn). It's the kind of thing that frankly feels like it should have always been part of the character, like what all the previous versions were itching closer to or trying to get at. Of course this is a guy gets called a penguin and he hates it badly enough to murder people over it, of course.

This gets to really highlight how differently Oz acts depending on who he's with. Traditionally, one of my favorite things about The Penguin, and one of the things that puts him above the other villains, is that, due to his position, he has to interact with a lot more people than the other Bat-villains. He has to manage a lot more relationships and dynamics, he has to play peacekeeper and puppetmaster. he's the only one in the United Underworld who's regularly interacting with and recruiting other villains to do business with. He's the guy who you pin stuff on like the Gangland Guardians, Team Penguin, doing betting pools with the Rogues taking cover in his Lounge while Joker War is happening, having to rig games to keep good standing with Maxie Zeus and Frenchy Blake in Batman Audio Adventures, and so on. So I greatly enjoy this beat here of him talking about how makes himself smaller before the Falcones, and that moment of him adjusting his outfit and practicing expressions in the mirror before meeting with them. How he contorts himself is present in all of his relationships, and retroactively adds to the way he carries himself in The Batman.

It seems that Oz is functionally regarded as the Paulie Walnuts of the Falcones: useful muscle, loyal for the most part and amusing to keep around, but largely an unstable self-serving dumb asskisser kept where he belongs, a liability if not kept on a short leash. I think the show does a good job of highlighting all the reasons why Oz has never been seriously regarded as a viable option for a boss, even putting aside his disability. He is a fundamentally embarassing person for these serious respectable criminals to be around and of course, the joke is ultimately on them..

Of course, there is only two people in the show who actually know what he's capable of, Francis Cobb and Sofia Falcone, said to be the central relationships defining the show moving forward. Both of them also a defining commonality with Oswald, being people who are looked down on and dehumanized, and characters who are underestimated until it's time to bear their fangs.

Extremely invested in where they're going with Sofia Falcone, Cristine Milioti's been killing it, and will in fact not stop killing it. What a perfect villain for Penguin they've set up with her, someone who has his Kryptonite: she does not underestimate him. Although we know in advance that Oz is going to live and be in the next movie, the question here isn't even so much who's going to win the gang war, and rather how much damage these two freaks will do to the city until Batman gets back. In many ways, Sofia represents the shape of things to come just as much as he does.

She is this embodiment of both the pristine unfathomable wealth and privilege and power that he both detests and strives for, as well as this brutal new breed of madness and violence attacking the streets that he has to survive against and make deals with (and is himself very much a part of, however he denies it). She is Falcone's legacy in every way that matters, both a Kingpin of Gotham whose existence creates the oppressive conditions under which a Batman or a Riddler are created, as well as the Arkham Rogue, the larger-than-life sadist with a tragic origin and a signature torture-murder method and an embarassing name for the papers.

Even the fact that she is The Hangman, and Carmine was defined around his penchant for brutally strangling women - regardless of whether or not she did the crimes that got her in Arkham, she's become this larger-than-life themed expression of a violent obsession in a way that sets her up as every bit the Batman villain that The Penguin is. The two champions of the two Gothams, duking it out in this new world The Batman and The Riddler made, The Penguin vs The Hangman.

I am so glad Lauren LeFranc made the call for binning Alberto in the first five minutes so the rest of the show can focus on Sofia and make a real character out of her in a way nobody's ever really done before, every step of the way so far LeFranc has been perfectly on the ball about where to take these characters and their conflict. And speaking of those,

I feel very confident in saying that this is the first time anyone's ever really had something worth doing with Oswald's mother as a character in her own right and not just a source of anguish for Penguin (Gotham was almost onto something with Gertrude, but not nearly enough). When it comes to Penguin origin stories, my favorite's always been the Pre-Crisis one, where he's poor and bullied but happy with his mom and birds until she dies and the government seizes everything he has, which doesn't necessarily involve her much. But here? Francine Cobb is a real character in what little time we get to know her, and what a character she is. We quickly understand the role she's playing in Oz's life, not just as his mom and person he loves and strives to protect, but the person who's sculpting him into the man he's going to become.

She is vulnerable and she does need meds and she's not quite all there, and Penguin's need to care for her is visible in other actions of his. But then they turn it around by showing how strong and demanding she is, how she is fiercely ambitious and pushing him to be something he would otherwise not be, how much she loves him and sees greatness in him. She knows he's a people pleaser, she knows how to push his buttons, and she wants him to be more, so of course he's going to be more, because he lives to please his mom.

Related to this is this absolute bullseye of a summation of The Penguin, that Lauren LeFranc delivered in the podcast: "Perhaps his greatest fear is that love is transactional. And that yet, everything he does, every decision he makes, is as if that's true. As if "love is transactional" is a truth he abides by". Oswald's conception of power is being loved and revered like Rex Calabrese, and the love he wants most in all the world is the one from his mother. So in turn this, and all extensions of it, drive him to greater and darker lengths.

He doesn't have that ambition quite down yet, it's his mom that does. She who's pushing him to take over the city and not just be a guy scraping by for survival. He's smart and ambitious and extremely good at slipping out of trouble, but she's pushing him to be the guy who will be taking the city by the horns because that's what he has to be for their sake. Her legacy to her son is nurturing him having that dog in him that will make him the supervillain who picks fights with Vengeance. She is the force that's turning Oswald into The Goddamn Penguin and I can't wait to see how she's developed.

Of course he reprimands Victor in that scene for lacking ambition, who do you think he gets it from?

Really love what they've done with Sal Maroni in here so far. I like adaptations that take these throwaway Batman backstory gangsters and make something out of them, in this case, with Clancy Brown lending his power and voice and reputation as The Grand Boss of Villainy to play the last Respectable Gangster of Gotham, this intimidating principled old tiger who's inversely proportional to how much of a petty and scummy piece of shit Carmine Falcone was. Extremely a guy I'd want to see playing a hand in the creation of Two-Face. Just as crucial is the fact that he is the one who gets the most effortlessly outplayed by Oz here, because this is The Penguin Show: no room for traditional or respectable gangsters anymore, their purpose is to be crapped all over by our wacko birdman.

There's a lot about this that re-contextualizes his behavior in The Batman and the one I'm gonna point out is: even though he can't be sure his plan didn't completely go to shit, he is still keeping his wits and not being terribly scared about being beaten up and tortured and staring down the scariest Falcone with a gun shoved in his throat. But he craps his pants at the sight of the Batmobile. He gets pain, he gets indignity, but he doesn't get Vengeance, what kind of sick freak would come up with the stuff that guy does. A gun in his mouth and Falcone torture is just Tuesday, but a car that wants to eat his soul is some psycho shit he's just not ready to deal with.

It is the delicious tasty fucking irony that Oswald thinks Vengeance is this weird freak who doesn't play or bend to any rules and is here to fuck up everything, just like the madman who flooded the city, and thinks of himself in turn as a justifiable guy standing for the respectable old-fashioned empathetic way of doing things, instead of the exact same thing that Riddler and Batman are. Only Sofia gets what he really is, the same thing as her, and that's why she is the arch-enemy / the biggest thing he's gotta defeat in life for now.

God, how fucking PERFECT it is that he gets caught and tortured because he, after stabbing out a man's eye and causing him to get run over by a schoolbus, stops to wave at the kids in that schoolbus while covered in blood. Just the Rex Calabrese of it all, the self-image, this guy who's both a mean nasty son of a bitch and also a real bleeding heart softie and in ways that ruin his life and allow him to slip and wriggle his way out of shit he has no right to, as demonstrated by the finale.

Thinking about Sofia chastizing Oz saying he thinks she is a toy to play with, while rattling off the ways in which she owns him and everything he has, all the ridiculous little accessories her daddy let him play him, and he in turn is a ridiculous little accessory for the family she is twisting until it breaks. Perfect fucking villain for him. Can't wait to see how badly these two are gonna burn Gotham.

I knew deep in my heart that all I wanted out of a Penguin show, the thing that I simply needed to have in it, was Penguin pulling a heist set-up in advance, and it fucking delivered. He doesn't even complain at Victor for being late, because if anything, getting captured and tortured while the car crashed was even better for him. No, he complains at Victor for not being sufficiently gruesome with the body. See, unlike other cowardly anti-hero reinventions of Bat-villains, the show never wants you to forget that Oz is a weird freak and a disgusting piece of shit, even if he is a very likeable and even aspirational one. Only by the most random stroke of fate it wasn't Victor that he fed to the wolves at that moment, that he sees himself in the kid isn't exactly ensuring that he's gonna make out of this in one piece.

Mr. Vengeance gets Nirvana, and Mr. Boniface gets Dolly Parton, perfect credits.

In conclusion: Out of everything they could have done following the thunderous success of The Batman and it's ensuing influence over the DCU, out of all the offers Reeves must have gotten to helm their new universe after delivering a megahit reinvention of their breadwinner blockbuster character, Matt Reeves went "Nah, I listened to my crew, and what we really want to do is 8 hours of television about the waddling freak who's in my movie for 10 minutes", and he and his crew deserve the world for that. I dreamed as a kid of getting to make a big Penguin story or show, a wild impossible idea that would never actually happen, and now it's here and it's better than anything I'd ever imagined.

I'm fit to burst with joy and riding a high of no longer having to hunt for scraps and washing away decades of put-downs for the character and enjoying a Penguin renaissance like one I never imagined happening. I am extremely not an unbiased reviewer here, this show rules and I've waited for it since I was a kid and it's here, drink it the fuck in cause it's only the beginning.

[milehighmegs]

The Window Theory

This is kind of a two-parter, and a bit long and circular, but it all connects, so just bear with me 😁

So, I just finished my 42598302621827732263435th re-watch of S2E6. When Beez says, "I just found something more important than taking sides," and she & Gabe join hands, Zira touches Crowley's arm. Ya know, this touch:

Look at Zira's face. I think, maybe- just MAYBE- Zira finally realizes that this is what Crowley's been talking about every time he's said, "our side." He reaches out to Crowley, but because he can't actually speak at that moment, it's his way of saying, "Oh my god. I get it now. I completely understand." And if you watch a bit longer, when Crowley walks away to take Nina & Maggie out of the shop, he keeps reaching for Crowley (couldn't find a GIF of it, but it's there). Almost like he's saying, "oh, oh yes, we are going to have a VERY good talk when this is all wrapped up."

There's also an element of "we're not the only ones," and "maybe, if the Supreme Archangel of Heaven can fall for the Grand Duke of Hell, this isn't as bad as I've been telling myself it is." If Gabelzebub haven't been- smote? smited? smitten- by God or devoured by Satan for falling in love (and not being coy or secretive about it), maybe Zira is FINALLY ready to actually be with Crowley, in the open, and without fear.

But we all know what happened after that.

Yes, Metatron is a bastard. But (and this is just a bit of a theory here) in telling Zira that he (Metatron) knew about the "de facto partnership" with Crowley, and then later about the Second Coming, he gave the whole game away**. Zira thought that Heaven wasn't watching all that closely. And maybe they weren't, right up until the two of them thwarted the Nopocalypse, but looked into the records and found out what they'd been up to for millennia. What Zira knows now is that not only are they aware of it, they are fully prepared to use it as a threat against him, but more so against Crowley. At that moment, however, that's all he knows. Metatron didn't mention the plans for the Second Coming until after The Kiss™. So after accepting Metatron's offer and desperately trying to convince Crowley to come with him and failing, but before the Jesus 2.0 bomb, Zira is visibly shaken (I mean, I would be too if I had just accepted that I COULD be with the love of my life, then got kissed like THAT by them, only to be broken up with right after they told me that they felt we'd been together all along). He didn't have a plan to protect Crowley. He didn’t think he needed one because he was so sure that his offer to go to Heaven would be accepted. He figured it was a given, knowing & understanding now that Crowley wanted to be with him, and part of the reinstatement of Crowley as an angel would facilitate that.

Now that Crowley has refused, Zira doesn't know what to do. He didn't have a backup plan. And he still, at that point, doesn't really know what Metatron needs him for. It's why he hesitates to leave at first. For the first time since The Arrangement, he doesn’t have a partner. He's alone, trying to figure things out, trying to find some way, ANY way, to make this work. He keeps looking out the window, ostensibly at Crowley, but... did you notice that we're never actually shown WHAT he's looking at? I have a feeling we'll find out in S3 what it is, but for now, he's flustered, anxious, and of course still reeling from what had just happened. He looks out the window a second time, and just, like... suddenly snaps out of it. We can tell, as the audience, that there's a lot of game face happening here, because we know Zira: we know his mannerisms, his moods, his reactions to certain things. And we also know he's smart. But I digress.

Something occurs to him (or he sees something out the window), which is why he suddenly feigns detachment and goes with Metatron. The wheels start to churn, but only insofar as it has to do with protecting Crowley. When the Second Coming plans for Supreme Archangel Aziraphale are dropped, everything changes. EVERYTHING. He suddenly realizes that the whole purpose of the offer, and the chance to take Crowley with him, was a trap. Metatron knew Crowley would refuse, and having made the threat, he knew Zira wouldn’t refuse. Zira understands the offer’s true purpose was to separate them so that they couldn't prevent another apocalypse. So now, not only is Crowley's life at risk, but Earth is once again under the threat of annihilation, and he doesn't have the one person he's always been able to rely on to help him prevent it. He goes with Metatron because he knows it's the only thing he can do to protect Earth AND his beloved.

That one last look at Crowley... I don't know, maybe something had passed between them through the window that we don't yet know about. Maybe Zira just had a sudden realization that had nothing to do with what he was looking at (perhaps the bullet catch mentioned below**?). Whatever the case, hearing about Armagedd-it's-back-on was a seismic shift in his attitude. You can see it in his demeanor: he’s no longer flustered, no longer searching for answers, no longer anxious about what happens next. In short, SHIT JUST GOT REAL. Because of this, Zira has to once again think fast, but keep Crowley in the dark, and get to work. That ride up in the elevator was spent hatching the most clever, most ingenious, dare I say the most devilish plan the Universe has ever seen. He is really and truly on OUR side now, the side that he & Crowley had been on for millennia, the side he was no longer pretending to NOT be on, the side that he finally stepped into with perfect love and perfect trust. With no way to tell Crowley about the Second Coming and therefore what he was planning, it seems like he chose Heaven over love. But he didn't. He did choose Crowley, but he also chose Earth, and in reality, he chose "us." It's just going to have to wait.

**If you wanna go really deep with this, the whole reason for the bullet catch episode was to mirror Furfur’s threat with the Metatron’s, and Furfur also revealed the plan too soon (I think there’s also another reason for this episode, details below). Like a bad Bond villain, they were too cocky. In 1941, Zira was able to think fast, palm the photo, and protect him & Crowley. But note that he didn’t tell Crowley what he was doing (there was neither time nor opportunity); Crowley only found out after the fact, when they were having dinner later. Zira protected "us" even then because only hours before, he realized that he loved Crowley and (I'm pretty sure) that Crowley loved him back. At the time, however, he didn't think anything could come of it. But that touch in the bookshop... that's when he knew. So when Metatron made the offer, there was no need to protect anything because he thought Crowley would come back to Heaven. Since that went down like a lead balloon, Zira is left helpless & scrambling. Then that look out the window... I think Zira remembered the bullet catch. That silent "trust me." The “aim for my mouth then shoot past my ear.” The diversion tactic. Again, until the Second Coming plans are revealed, Zira only plans to find a way to protect Crowley in secret. When the stakes rise, Zira ups his game. THAT’S the reason for the changing looks on his face on the elevator ride. THAT’s what the smile is about. He’s doing the calculations, setting up the illusion, perfecting the con. And just like the magic act he & Crowley pulled when they saved Job’s children, just like when Crowley seemed to be the random volunteer to pull the trigger, Zira knows his partner will be there to help him pull it off one more time. Even if it means leaving him, leaving him in the dark once again.

[plantcrazy]

Hōkū 2961135

Since watching the ending of Murder Drones I've been really inspired to work on my ending for Lost Children of the CCC.

I think I'm about done with writing the major changes. I have a solid crisis, climax and end, of which the ideas have mostly been refined down into bullet points. I think the only sad thing is my original idea, with Double Shot and co. (Universe X) won't work now >>

The good news is, now I have another AU idea :P (I still REALLY want to explore their dystopian world & characters idea. Could make a fun Bad Ending Au sort of thing >:D )

Anyway, we're here to talk about Hōkū!

I've been developing & expanding on Macbeth's past as I think part 2 will be a great place to expand on past events in the Toppat clan for later. I've already shared some of those ideas, and (yes, it's relevant. I don't just want an excuse to talk about my favourite guy :P), you guys know me, I LOVE my foreshadowing, so I thought, well, what if Hōkū isn't just a one-off character in Macbeth's past? What if he comes back later, cause the guy's got a pretty versatile ability (, he didn't become the clan's best by luck), so I'd like to think the CCC would have a field day with him. Especially a certain Doc Thomas :\

So, I made these two illustrations to explore this idea. One in 2006 when Hōkū is first captured, and another in story present day (2018). On top of this, I've got a 7-page story scene written out, but that's a bit too spoilery to share yet ;)

Speed paint below ⬇️