#in which i DID NOT believe we did not already have dinner and the crisis of realizing i did not have a full stomach

[paintpaintpaintman]

Reblogs talking about focal seizures is such a mood

soulja boy wrote kiss me thru the phone at 18 . what have u done

[pauli-writes]

warning: fluff, gepard and reader are already in a relationship, gepard is a down bad for reader (i am not sorry)

pairing: gepard x reader; serval is also there

author’s note: i promise i’m working on requests, in the meantime take this, because wow i’m very behind on requests— (also definitely not proof read)

serval watched in amusement as gepard paced up and down in her shop. the reason for his troubles was you, poor innocent you.

the story between you and gepard was nothing short out of a book. him, the son of a noble family and you, the child of a simple shopkeeper. the two of you became friends when you were young children, and eventually started dating as teens and then stayed together through everything, even the stellaron crisis and the entire aftermath.

serval has watched this relationship grow since its first day, and has been rooting for the two of you since the beginning as well. and now here she was listening to her brother’s nervously telling her about his plan to propose to you now that everything has settled on belobog and thing were going well.

“serval, what would i even say?” he murmured as he paced. “what if they say no?”

the older landau chuckled, “you worry too much. i’m sure they won’t. they adore you.”

gepard sighed. “i know, i know. i just don’t want to get this wrong.”

“get what wrong?”

both serval and gepard jumped at the sound of your voice. how did you enter the shop with either of them noticing?

“nothing.” they replied simultaneously. you raised your eyebrows in suspicion, but dropped asking further questions. instead you walked closer and went to stand next to gepard. he looked a little nervous, which was unbefitting of him. serval meanwhile was watching him with an amused smile, which was very in character for her.

“okay… anyways, are we still going to dinner tonight?” you asked and gepard, almost automatically, nodded his head.

“yes, of course!”

“great, i’ll be ready at seven.” you got on to your tippy toes and pressed a kiss on his cheek, before leaving the shop with a wave. gepard watched you as you left and serval could see the smitten expression on her baby brother’s face. all of you had grown older and matured in your own ways, but this expression of pure unadulterated adoration was as unchanging as the ice and snow on belobog.

“geppie, you need to propose to them tonight.”

“serval-“

“don’t worry it will be fine.” and she said it with such conviction and confidence that gepard believed her if only for a moment.

later that day gepard picked you up from your home and walked you the restaurant you had a reservation at. he was the perfect gentleman throughout the night, what you didn’t know was the ring sitting idly in his pocket, making him more nervous by the second.

he was so concerned about trying to find the right moment, only for dinner to be over before you knew it. he mentally cursed himself as the two of you walked out the restaurant, if he didn’t propose now, he would never propose.

you, completely unaware of his inner turmoil, kept talking about your work and your daily life. then you heard the familiar melody of a guitar. “oh, look. serval is playing on the street. let’s go see.”

gepard could barely register your words before he was pulled along to where his sister was giving a small performance. a number of people were already crowding around her, but she easily spotted her baby brother and his partner. the two landaus locked eyes and serval gave her brother a look that said, “have you done it?” to which he shook his head with an almost ashamed expression.

it was time for plan b then, serval cut her current song short and started playing a song she knew you liked because of you visiting when she was practicing with her band. it was a bit slower than her usual work, but just perfect for this scenario

“oh, i like this song,” you said, humming along to the melody.

gepard chuckled at your adorable behaviour, “i know you do…” he locked eyes with serval again, and she nodded her head at him with a confident smile. “listen, reader, i’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

you turned your full attention to him as he took a deep breath. “we have been together for a while. i still remember when i first saw you in your parents shop as children, and now here we are, grown up and belobog is starting to rebuild itself too. what I’m trying to say is, i would like to spend the rest of my life with you, so will you do me the honour of marrying me?”

“yes, of course!” you replied without hesitation, jumping into his arms and hugging him tightly. gepard was a bit startled, and so were the people who were standing next to the two of you. after a few seconds you pulled away again, but a giddy smile remained, “i was wondering why you were so nervous the entire week. i’m glad it’s because of this and not some work related thing.”

“i’m just glad you said yes,” he said, taking your hand and slipping the ring on it. “i don’t know what i would have done if you hadn’t.”

you smiled at him, not even concerned about the expensive ring. “there is no universe in the world where i would ever say no to you, gepard.”

“noted.” he said with a flustered expression, his cheeks turning a little red.

serval watched from where she was playing her guitar with a smile. she stopped playing for a moment and shouted, “hey, congratulations you two lovebirds!”

everyone turned to look at you and gepard and you both blushed deeply in embarrassment.

as you all grow older some things may change and evolve, other things are constant, like gepard’s love for you… or serval’s teasing.

[steddieas-shegoes]

you're not santa

i may or may not be having a small (this is a lie) crisis over liam believing in santa this year? i am 90% certain he doesn't actually believe in santa and just said he does because he thinks the cool gifts come from santa. meanwhile i am just trying to get the vibes on if i need two wrapping papers this year or not for the same amount of gifts. so anyways working through the feelings with putting the idiots in the situation as always, enjoy.

rated t | cw: the mildest innuendo | tags: fluff, modern au, married steddie, steddie dads, the magic of christmas is all of it not just santa etc

🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅

"You better be quieter this year," Steve slapped Eddie's still bare ass as he hurried to throw on his Christmas pajamas. "Almost woke Maddy up last year. You're lucky I was standing by the door."

Eddie rolled his eyes fondly. "Well, maybe if you hadn't turned the-"

"Just go!" Steve laughed, throwing a pillow at him with deadly accuracy.

Eddie threw it back at him with a smirk. "When I get back, I'm giving you your present."

"You already did, Eds."

"No, that was just one of them," Eddie rushed to say before leaving their bedroom and quietly closing the door behind him.

Both bedroom doors were closed across the hall, so he quickly made his way down the stairs to the garage, where all the gifts were hiding since Robin dropped them off earlier that day.

But when Eddie opened the garage door and flipped the light switch, a voice startled him into nearly turning and running.

"I knew it!"

Sammy.

Their oldest son had been acting very suspicious of Santa related discussions for months now, and Steve had warned him that he was getting to an age where a lot of his friends probably didn't believe in Santa anymore.

"Sammy, why aren't you in your bed?" Eddie put his hands on his hips, identical to the way Steve stood when he was about to have a very serious conversation with one of their three kids.

"Because I saw Auntie Rob bring in a big bag earlier and you and Dad were trying to keep us distracted. So I looked out here while you were cleaning up dinner and saw all these presents." Sammy was standing with his hands on his hips, a mirror image to Steve in every way down to the same swoop of hair and freckles across his cheeks. "And all of these say from Santa, but Santa wouldn't have even come here yet because he was in London one hour ago and London is at least four hours from here!"

Eddie bit back a laugh at how Sammy tried to explain his way through the Santa gifts being here.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Eddie asked, dropping his arms and sitting down on the ground, gesturing for Sammy to join him.

"I already know Santa isn't real," Sammy said as he sat, sounding absolutely miserable.

"What do you mean Santa isn't real?" Eddie asked, pretending to be shocked at the revelation.

"Really, pops? You're gonna act like Santa is real?" Sammy got the sass from Steve, too. It was both annoying and adorable. "I'm seeing the evidence that he isn't with my own eyes."

"Look, Sammy, can I call you Sammy?" Eddie smiled when Sammy let out a laugh. "Santa as you know him isn't real, you're right. But there is a Santa. He's just so busy and can't do it all in one night, so he has presents delivered early for some people, like you and your brother and sister. But he can't ruin the magic, so he left them at Auntie Rob's house for safekeeping."

It sounded airtight. Any kid who wanted to believe in Santa would definitely believe that.

"Dad. Seriously." Sammy was giving him The Look. "I'm nine years old. I have straight As. I'm not stupid."

Which was something Eddie knew of course. He was endlessly proud of all of his super smart kids who did a million times better in school than he and Steve ever did.

But he didn't think believing in Santa was a sign of a kid not being smart.

"You're smart enough to learn the truth, which is that Santa gives the parents a lot more control than we let you think. Don't you think it would be harder to get Maddy to do her homework if I said 'Dad will take a present away' instead of 'Santa is watching to make sure you do your homework'?"

Sammy looked out at the garage, the clutter of children's outdoors toys and broken Christmas decorations and bulk snacks for lunchboxes scattered around.

"So he just gives you the toys when he thinks we've been good enough for them?" Sammy asked, still sounding unsure.

"Exactly! And he usually delivers them a couple weeks early so we can make sure they're wrapped and ready for tomorrow."

"So why keep it all a secret?"

Damn Sammy for always being two steps ahead of Eddie.

"It's more fun this way! Olivia was so excited to leave out cookies before bed, remember? If we told her this, she wouldn't even get to be excited about Rudolph eating the carrots, right?"

"So Rudolph is...real?"

"Okay, that one might be a lie," Eddie gave in on that to sell the rest of it. That's what you had to do with Sammy.

"So who eats the carrots?"

"I take bites and spit them in the trash. You know I hate carrots."

"Why don't you make Dad do it?" Sammy leaned against Eddie's side, letting out a long yawn. He was probably sitting out here for the last couple of hours waiting. He had to be exhausted.

"Dad did a lot of that stuff when you were really little. For five whole years before we switched."

"So he sleeps while you bring out all the presents?"

Eddie's face went red as he thought about what Steve was probably doing in their room right now.

"Yep! He did a lot of baking and stuff all day today so I let him rest," Eddie wrapped an arm around Sammy as his weight became heavier against him. "I think you should probably get some rest, too. Santa wouldn't want your Christmas morning ruined because you stayed up all night."

"I guess." Sammy yawned again. "Can I sleep on the couch?"

"You know Dad's rule. Bedrooms only on Christmas."

"Yeah, but that was for the secret. Now I know."

"But Maddy and Olivia don't. We have to keep this a secret from them, okay?" Eddie paused when he heard some footsteps directly above them. His brows furrowed.

"Maybe Santa forgot one?" Sammy asked, perking up.

"Maybe. Better get to your bed so he doesn't see that you're awake," Eddie nudged him.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Sammy was rushing out of the garage and up the stairs to his bedroom.

Eddie looked above him, but no more bumps could be heard.

After setting all the presents under the tree in a mostly organized fashion, Eddie got back to the bedroom, where Steve was fast asleep.

He got into bed carefully, not wanting to wake him up, but Steve's eyes blinked open slowly as he curled up under the comforter.

"Took you too long," Steve whispered.

"Sammy."

"What?" Steve's eyes opened all the way and tears were instantly filling them. "Does he know?"

"Sh," Eddie pulled Steve against his chest and ran his hands through his soft hair. "I'll tell you tomorrow. Sleep, love."

"Eds-"

They heard a small bump on the roof and then silence.

Steve sat up and looked out the bedroom window, then back at Eddie.

"What was that?"

"Must've been Santa," Eddie teased.

Steve rolled his eyes.

They both stayed up for a bit longer to make sure no other noises happened outside, but fell asleep when there was nothing.

🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅

The next morning, all three kids jumped into their bed, yelling about how many presents Santa brought them and how full their stockings were.

Steve and Eddie made their way downstairs, rubbing their eyes as the kids pushed them down on the couch while they started grabbing gifts.

By the end, the kids were so busy playing with new toys, they didn't notice one more present hiding between the fireplace and the tree. Eddie reached over for it, not recognizing the wrapping paper.

"Did Robbie say she was getting them something else?" he asked, holding the gift out to Steve.

"Nope," Steve took it, checked the tag, then handed it back to Eddie with a shrug. "Says it's for you."

Wayne wouldn't be bringing his gifts for everyone over until that afternoon, so who could this one even be from?

He opened it carefully, worried that it was a prank by Steve and the kids. It wouldn't be the first time they managed to pull off a prank gift.

The confusion only increased when he pulled out a small plastic replica of the London Bridge.

"You don't even like London that much. Who got you that?" Steve asked, resting his head on Eddie's shoulder.

"No idea."

Sammy looked up at them over the new book about planets he got and beamed.

"Santa brought you a present!"

Eddie was suddenly reminded of their conversation last night, how Sammy insisted Santa was just in London and couldn't possibly have made it here.

Eddie had seen a lot of weird things in his life, had ignored a lot of them and passed them up to weird coincidence, but this was different.

He set the replica on the table by the couch and wrapped an arm around Steve's shoulders, kissing the top of his head as he leaned further into him.

"Santa?" Steve asked.

"Must've been a good boy this year," Eddie smiled.

"Uh-huh. I'm sure you were," Steve kissed his cheek before turning back to watch their kids playing on the floor.

Maybe Eddie would have to write a letter to Santa next year to thank him for the gift.

[blackcherryvelvet0909]

Seashell Seashore (Ortho & GN!Reader)

Note: This one-shot with Ortho is strictly platonic

You sighed as you stretched out on your towel. Your sunglasses protected your eyes from the bright rays of sunlight that shone down on the beach. They would certainly get you bone dry before long; you could already feel the sea moisture evaporating from your hair. It’d been a nice swim, exactly what you needed on a hot day like this. The fact the beach was less crowded today was just the syrup on the snow cone. As you rested your arms above your head you closed your eyes, determined to spend the rest of your time relaxing in the sun. 

The sound of splashing took you out of the haze your mind was slowly fading into. Whether out of curiosity or the disturbance of your impending slumber, you opened your eyes and craned your neck forward to look out at the shoreline. Through the shade of your sunglasses you saw Ortho standing ankle-deep in the water, hands reached out in search of…something. Did he drop something into the sea by accident? You worried it might be something vital to his waterproof body. Though your body screamed in protest, you got up from your spot on the towel and trotted over to Ortho. 

“Do you need any help?” you asked as you looked down at the robotic boy. 

Ortho looked up to meet your eye and smiled. “Oh, hello [Y/n]! If you would like to help, I would be very grateful.” 

“What’re you looking for?” Your eyes scanned the shallow water, now cloudy from your footsteps and Ortho’s searching. “Did you drop something?” 

“Oh, no, I did not drop anything.” You sighed in relief - no crisis to be concerned about. “I am looking for seashells.” 

“Seashells?” When you took a closer look at the boy, you realized he had a fanny pack across his chest. The bottom was slightly damp - that must be where he kept them. 

“Mhm!” Ortho nodded. He took one of his hands out of the water and held up a pink one for you to see. “Yesterday, Vil taught me how to make jewelry with them.” He unzipped his pouch, put the little shell inside, then zipped it back up again before he went back to his search. “I want to make one for my brother! He hasn’t come out much since Kingscholar dunked him into the pool the other day.” 

Oh yeah, you remembered that…poor guy. He looked like he almost had a heart attack, not that Leona was too remorseful. At least he got quite the reprimand from Trein for it. You smiled as you rolled up the sleeves of your kimono cover. “Let me help you out with that. I’ll help you make the jewelry once you have enough.” 

“Thank you!” Ortho was practically beaming now. While you could not see the smile under his mask, you could envision it by the way his eyes crinkled with joy. “I believe I have collected enough to make a bracelet. I want to make myself one, too; maybe I can make even more if we gather enough.”

“Well, let’s get to it then!” You knelt down in the water so you could dig further into the sand. “We can look tomorrow, too, if we don’t get enough for a few.”

Ortho seemed excited by the prospect for the way he quickly set to work beside you. The two chatted idly about nothing in particular as you went along long into the day. Sometimes you talked of what either of you had been doing during the trip, while other times you spoke about what you looked forward to doing in the days to come. Before you knew it, the sun had begun to set behind the ways, which cast your surroundings in a light orange hue. You looked up from your current search spot, a few feet from where you’d first begun, to scan your surroundings. It seemed you both were the last two on the beach - everyone else had gone elsewhere. 

“It’s getting late,” you commented. Water dripped from your kimono and swimsuit as you stood. “We should head back to the resort to wash off - it’ll be dinner time soon.” 

“Yes, I think that is a good idea,” Ortho said as he zipped up his fanny back. “Brother will be wondering where I am; I do not want him to worry.” 

“Give me a minute to grab my stuff,” you said as you began to walk back to shore. “I’ll walk back with you.” 

“That is a good idea, too.” Ortho began to hover over the water as he followed after you. “It is best to travel in groups, just in case trouble should ari-”

“Ow!” Your painful cry stopped Ortho mid-sentence. Your foot had hit something hard beneath the sand. You didn’t think you were bleeding, but it sure did hurt! 

“Are you alright?!” Ortho asked, now at your side as his eyes searched you for injuries. “Do you need medical attention?” 

“N-No, I think I’m fine.” You grunted as you lifted your foot out of the water. You bent your leg up and across your other leg to get a better look at your foot. Nope, no cut in sight. It didn’t look like it would bruise, either. You smiled and showed Ortho to reassure him before you put your foot down. 

“See? Just bumped my foot against something.” Your forehead creased as your brows furrowed as you focused on where your foot had been. The water was murky from when you shifted your foot, but you could make out something poking out of the sand. You reached down to grab it, then carefully pulled it out. Both you and Ortho gazed in awe at the object in your hand: a conch shell! 

“Wow!” Ortho’s yellow orbs seemed to swirl with stars as he ogled the large shell. “It’s so pretty! That is a conch, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah!” You couldn’t help but beam yourself as you brought the shell up for a closer look. “These are really hard to find, especially in this condition. This would cost a ton at a gift shop!” 

“It seems to be fully intact as well,” Ortho observed as he circled you to get a full look at the shell. “That is a very good find, [Y/n]!” 

You nodded as you continued to stare at the shell. Its body was a soft pink color that faded to white at the lower and upper tips. You saw that the inside was white as well - smooth, too. You tipped the shell over and shook it gently to get any remaining sand out of it, then put it up to your ear. You smiled as you listened. 

“What are you doing?” Ortho asked as he curiously tilted his head. 

“I’m listening,” you replied as you removed the conch from your ear. “If you press your ear against the opening of a conch, you can hear the sea.”

Ortho raised an eyebrow in confusion. “That is impossible, even if you are on the beach. The sea is not inside the shell; how can you hear it if you are far away?”

You giggled, “It’s just a traditional fantasy, Ortho. You can’t really hear the sea - but the way the air circulates from your ear to the shell sounds like it.” You offered the conch to him. “Here, try it!”

Ortho showed no hesitance as he took the conch and pressed it to his ear. You watched as his eyes widened as he listened. Your smile grew into a grin as Ortho took the conch away from his ear and practically jumped up and down at the discovery. “It does sound like the sea! We must have my brother listen, too!”

“Yeah, we should!” You began to walk again, and Ortho followed close to your side. “I’m sure he’ll think it’s cool.” 

Idia, indeed, thought it was cool - at least that’s what he said for his brother’s sake. You spent a good time in Idia and Ortho’s condo that night as you helped Ortho make little shell necklaces and bracelets. Before you could leave when bedtime came, however, Ortho gave you the conch you’d found. While you protested at first, Ortho insisted that you keep it. 

“I can hear the sea whenever I want to - I just have to load up an audio file.” He gently pushed the conch into your arms. “But you may not be able to one day. When that day comes, you can listen to the conch and remember the time you spent here - the time we found it.” 

Ortho was right. In the future, whenever you grew lonely, you picked up that conch and placed your ear against its crevice to listen to the sea. To relive those memories at the beach with your friends, and the little boy you helped collect seashells for his brother.

[bengiyo]

What Did You Eat Yesterday? 2 Ep 1 Stray Thoughts

We are back with my favorite comfort characters. I already fired off my warning shots last week. Let's see what Shiro and Kenji face this season.

Love that we open with Shiro having crisis about staying within his food budget, which I still think is kind of wild.

Oh, poor Kenji. He hasn't been a twink in a long time but still he's facing that reality.

I enjoy them playing and bickering about the checkup, but I'm still thinking about how genuinely scared Shiro was when he thought Kenji might be sick.

NEW INTRO!!! Wataru and Kohinata are in the intro! Huge deal!!

Wait, I wanna know who seriously thought Shiro was going to a hostess bar and what the scam is here.

"Being boring is Mr. Kakei's strength." She ain't have to do my man like that.

It's our favorite grocery store employee, and she snubbed Shiro on the flatfish!

I'm so sad about the grocery closing.

I can't believe Kenji's boss would comment about a man cheating after season 1. The audacity.

Oh good we get to keep the grocery clerk at the new supermarket. It's funny how Shiro never catches her smiles at him.

Potato salad with cucumber and ham. Shiro, why? I love this man but he is not allowed to make the potato salad for the cookout.

This fish looks really good though.

Seeing Shiro reckoning with his food choices potentially worsening Kenji's health really hit me. He takes pride in feeding them as affordably as possible, and it would break his heart if he felt like he was poisoning the man he loves.

"Lots of things may be changing, but there aren't only bad sides to it," got me.

Shiro slipped and mentioned that making their dinner is his favorite thing. Kenji immediately pounced. I love them.

We get to meet Baby Goro next week!

I missed them so much. We are truly blessed to have them back with us. I will be forever loyal to Nishijima and Uchino. If their projects are in an American theater I will do my best to see them. I love how this show continues to handle the physical, emotional, social, and economic realities of these two growing old together.

[archduchessofnowhere]

Hello! <3 When did Franz Joseph cheat on Sisi? I know he had a mistress, but did she know about her? Or am I mistaken? Sorry if you have already talked about this somewhere in the past. Thank you.

Hi! I already touched upon the subject on this ask, but I'll go a bit more on detail on how Sisi may have felt.

In general, women of Elisabeth's status were expected to simply accept their husband's infidelities. Her own mother Ludovika had resignated to be a betrayed wife, and had even been told by her sister Sophie "that she knew many women who had had happy marriages with their unfaithful husbands" (Winkelhofer, 2022). However, it seems Sisi wasn't as forgiving as her mother.

Now, we don't actually know what exactly went down, but in 1860 Elisabeth suddenly left Vienna for Madeira because of a mysterious coughing that wouldn't go away. Today most biographer agree that this illness was actually psychosomatic, a product of the high levels of stress the young empress had go through during the last years. Also, most biographers at least suspect that the final crisis that made Elisabeth want to leave court at once was discovering that her husband was cheating on her. Just to quote one exemple, take her first serious biographer Egon Corti (emphasis by me):

Elizabeth reproached her husband bitterly for not taking her part in everything; but at times she seemed to him too nervous and erratic, and he felt that such an important matter as the education of the Crown Prince was better left in the hands of his mother, who had trained him himself for the throne so carefully. Thus Francis Joseph was torn between his mother, to whom he owed everything, and his wife, whom he loved beyond words; and, moreover, as was only natural, he was also exposed to innumerable temptations from attractive women. The fact that he was not always insensible to these was felt as a slight by his young wife, conscious of her own dazzling beauty. (Corti, 1936)

Martina Winkelhofer also notes that, in the manuscript of his biography, Corti wrote that "Everything around her [Elisabeth] is unbearable; moreover, news has reached her that Franz Joseph has looked too deeply into another woman's eyes" (2022). He deleted this sentences from the published version.

Yet, it is really hard to link Franz Josef to any particular woman, because he was very discreet in his affairs. If he really cheated on her during 1860, we don't know with whom. The only woman we know for sure he had an affair with was Anna Nahowski, an affair that lasted from the end of the 1870s until 1888, but as far as I know she and Elisabeth never met. Impossible to know if the empress was aware of her existence, but I believe she must have at least suspected that her husband wasn't being faithful.

And then there's Katharina Schratt, which I also talked about in the ask I linked. Katharina was an actress in the Burgtheater and Franz Josef's celebrity crush. He watched every play she was in and soon it was known that he had a liking for the actress, but beyond a dinner in which Alexander III of Russia invited actresses of the Burgtheter to accompany them, they never met each other. It was Elisabeth, who aware of the situation, formally introduced her husband to Katharina. Soon they begun to write each other and FJ went from being a fan to a friend, which made Elisabeth happy, since she felt guilty about not being able to give her husband company.

But we don't know if Elisabeth wanted for Katharina to be a mistress, perhaps she expected it and by that point (late 1880s-1890s) she had come to terms with that, or perhaps she encouraged the relationship because she expected that FJ wouldn't cheat on her with Katharina. To quote once again Franz Josef's Valentine's day rejection letter (emphasis by me):

You say that you will control your feelings, I too shall do it, even though it will not always be easy for me, for I will do nothing wrong, I love my wife and do not intend to misuse her confidence and her friendship for you.

I said in my previous ask that this ties with my idea that FJ was only ok with his affairs if they were only physical, but this line also hints at Elisabeth supporting an emotional relationship, perhaps a romantic friendship of sorts, but not a sexual affair. But again: it's hard to know for sure, perhaps FJ was only using her as an excuse to turn down Katharina.

That's all I can say about this, but if I find more information I'll share it. Thank you for your question.

Sources:

Bourgoing, Jean [ed.] (1966). The Incredible Friendship: The Letters of Emperor Franz Joseph to Frau Katharina Schratt (translation by Evabeth Miller Kienast and Robert Rie)

Corti, Egon Caesar Conte (1936). Elizabeth, empress of Austria (translation by Catherine Alison Phillips)

Winkelhofer, Martina (2022). Sissi. La vera storia. Il cammino della giovane imperatrice (translation by Federica Saccucci)

[teagrl]

We'll veer away from Nar Shaddaa to my arranged marriage project which sees Mara maries off to Luke Naberrie to spy on his fam and it all comes to a head during a hostage crisis in Coruscant.

The Naberries are not...entirely what they seem.

No, no,” Mara hastened to say. The family she’d married into had once been known for its brilliant queen, but for the last few decades had kept their name firmly out of politics and deeply into the arts. Her husband’s eldest sister Ryoo was CEO and Director of Naboo’s Imperial Museum and his older sister Pooja was a sculptor of global renown even if she wasn’t quite famous outside of Naboo. While usually the running of the household in Naboo was usually left to the eldest daughters, Ryoo and Pooja’s obligations elsewhere had left the youngest Naberrie, Luke, to be groomed for it by Sola Naberrie, the matriarch. This was why the youngest Naberrie’s first trip to the Galactic City had only been two years ago at the age of eighteen. “Nothing like that. Like I said, it’s under Luke’s care now.”

“So Madame Sola has turned her eye elsewhere?”

Mara lowered her voice as if she were sharing a confidence, “It is that well, the metropolis can be a tad...” She looked over at Luke again, as if for permission like a good little wife though he was looking elsewhere, before saying, “Overwhelming. Madame had always believed that the future lies in a more inward-centered expression anyway.”

“Lake Country folk craft,” Luke put in flatly rejoining the conversation with an impatient sigh.

Silvene laughed. “I take it you’re not persuaded, Lord of Naberrie.”

“I’m of a more conservative bent than Mother when it comes to the arts,” he replied appeasingly. “It’s all her fault. If she hadn’t educated me on the human universality of art I might think otherwise.”

“But it is compelling and new,” Mara chided. “How many Fahren Sochi imitations must one endure?”

He laughed, sliding an arm around her waist. She flinched in stupid surprise as her stomach did a little odd flutter despite the charade. For a second she was afraid he’d taken it as displeasure, but it was likely he hadn’t even noticed. She could feel through the Force, that he was tense and focused elsewhere, and he never crossed into her personal space outside of public functions. If he did it more often she’d be more used to it, she thought, irritated. The tension was new, probably due to being at Coruscant, and feeling provincial in comparison to the members of the court here. “I’m not sure that rustic pottery is the answer.”

Mara rolled her eyes and spoke to Silvene, feigning an intimacy that was the exact opposite of her current, frustrating situation. “Ignore him. He lacks appreciation for fine ceramics. You should see how his sisters take him to task.”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “My wife forgets that that we have in Varykino are pottery <i>crafts</i>, not art.”

Mara flashed Silvene a put-upon expression. “As I said, his education is incomplete.”

Silvene tsk’ed. “Not a year of marriage and already discord, and the madame to blame.” She chuckled with Luke and Mara following. “But it must be stressful to spend so much time apart.”

“It’s not too much,” Luke told her. “I alternate week to week.” What he didn’t mention was that when he wasn’t at Varykino, he was at Theed, and even the week or two he spent in the Naberrie residence, Mara scarcely saw him, save at a family dinner here and there. Luke's wedding gift to her had not been an assortment of veda pearls as was usual, drawing from the risque practice of having the bride wear them to bed and little else, no, he’d gifted her a bearded jax kitten that she'd later found had been rescued in the estate. grounds. Damn her cover for stressing that stupid animal lover angle.

The poor thing’s eyes had barely been open, and it didn’t stop whimpering at being far from his litter. Mara had spent her wedding night alone, trying to keep the miserable creature quiet until he fell asleep against her shoulder in her enormous bed. For a while, she thought it was a mean-spirited joke, but the Naberries, she would discover, weren’t the sort. She’d named him Mali and as bad as it had been to barely get any sleep, having to pretend to be in love with the furry lagomorph who had now imprinted on her and now followed her everywhere was worse. He was now grudgingly in Madame Sola's care waiting for her return.

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super 060

“You see, Kid Trunks, travel is a lot like a sword.  It cuts one way, but it also can cut the other way.  And if you’re not careful, you’ll drop your sword polish while you’re cleaning it, and ruin your best jacket.  Well, my best jacket.  You might have one in your own timeline, but it probably hasn’t been manufactured yet.”

“Um... all I wanted to know was why your hair is blue instead of lavender.”

So in this episode, Bulma has the time machine refueled and ready for the next trip to Future Trunks’ world.  Beerus, however, doesn’t see the point, since he believes that he already defeated Goku Black and Zamasu by destroying Zamasu in Episode 59.  

The current working theory is that the Zamasu of Age 779 was planning to kill Gowasu, steal his Time Ring, and use it to make two wishes on the Super Dragon Balls.  One wish would be for an indestructible body, while the other would be for Goku Black, the ultimate enforcer for his plan.  Then Zamasu would eventually make his way to the alternate timeline Earth where Future Trunks lives. 

But since Beerus destroyed Zamasu before he could do any of that, then the crisis should no longer exist, right?  Well, if that’s true, then Trunks should even be standing here, because if the crisis never occurred, he never would have traveled back in time to seek help in the first place.  And in that case, Beerus would have never had any reason to destroy Zamasu. 

We went through all of this in the Androids Saga in DBZ.  Trunks went back in time and made changes to history, but when he returned home, nothing had changed.  The changes only applied to the past world that he visited, which followed a different timeline than his own.  Beerus seems to grasp the logic of this, but he also seems to think that it works differently when he does it.  So he gets all fussy and angry, and Whis is about to take him home for a nap when Goku suggests that they get a good dinner before heading back to Trunks’ world.  Oh no, don’t show them eating again--

Fuuuuuuck.  You know, DBZ used to do like dozens of episodes without showing the entire main cast sitting down for a full-course meal.  It was like, they had more important things to do with the show’s runtime, like... I don’t know... advancing the plot.  Or... what was that other thing?  Oh, right.  Building atmosphere and tension. 

Not Dragon Ball Super, though.  No, if the characters don’t eat a meal together every two or three episodes, the audience might start to worry.  We don’t want Goku to get malnourished, do we?  I mean, they could just say he ate alone, off-screen, but how would we know for sure?

I’m not sure what to make of this trend, but I suspect it had something to do with that One-Piece/Toriko crossover that DBZ was included in.  From what I gather, all Toriko does is storylines about food and cooking and eating, and that seems close enough to the scope of One-Piece that it wouldn’t be awkward to just have them eat for a whole episode.   But Dragon Ball never really did this a whole lot.  There was a big party at the end of the Majin Buu Saga, and Mr. Satan held that party at his hotel in the Yo! Son Goku special from 2008, and Bulma’s birthday party in Battle of Gods, but those were clearly special occasions.  The last two were obviously meant to serve as big reunions for the characters long after their show ended. 

And yet, Dragon Ball Super seems determined to throw a big party or picnic every chance it gets.  According to the Dragon Ball Wiki, Res F, the Destroyer Invitational Tournament, and this saga all take place in the same year, Age 779. You’d think some of these characters would be partied out by now.

My theory right now is that this was something that happens a lot in One-Piece, or Toriko, or some other very popular shonen anime, and it became so ingrained in pop culture that it became a trope, and every other shonen anime started doing it too.  And then when Dragon Ball Super started, it was just second nature to slap a mealtime scene into as many episodes as possible. 

I’m not saying it’s bad.  If you write the stories with this in mind, you could use these scenes very effectively.  But Dragon Ball Super tends to use them for padding.  There’s exactly one plot point in this episode, and it’s Trunks going back to his own future to see if Goku Black is still there.  The trip takes like two seconds, but they filled out the other 21:58 by having them eat first and argue over what will happen on the time trip that Trunks has already decided to take. 

Also, they throw in some off-model Beerus, for your viewing displeasure.  For a dude who hates time travel, he sure looks like he went back to the 90′s for a double-wide DBZ-style neck.

Finally, Kid Trunks gets frustrated with this arguing in circles and he shouts “What are we doing?!” So Future Trunks has to explain the multiverse concept to him.

He uses 18 as a handy illustration, since Kid Trunks already knows her.  In the “main” timeline, 18 married Krillin and had a daughter with him, Marron.  In Future Trunks’ world, 18 terrorized the Earth for about twenty years.  Trunks went back in time to warn the Z-Figthers about her, and those changes eventually led to 18 turning good and marrying Krillin.  But none of that affected Trunks’ world, and he ultimately had to kill 18 to stop her. 

Of course, the more classic example is Goku, who died of the heart virus in one timeline, but Trunks gave him the medicine to save his life.  So in the “main” timeline, Goku’s still alive, but in Future Trunks’ world, Goku is still dead. Each time someone goes back in time and changes things, it creates a new timeline. 

Future Trunks’ argument, then is that the same thing probably happened when Beerus destroyed the Zamasu of Age 779.  He only knew to do that because of information he gained from when Goku Black followed Trunks from the future.  When that happened, the main timeline changed from what it had been, and a new timeline was created, one where the change had not occurred. 

I think what’s got Beerus flustered here is that he is right, but not entirely.  By destroying Zamasu, he ensured that this main timeline is safe from Zamasu, and he also ensured that there is a version of Future Trunks’ timeline that was spared the horrors of Goku Black. 

However, there should also be an additional timeline where he did not destroy Zamasu, and another additional Future Trunks’ timeline where Goku Black does all the stuff we saw in Episode 47, etc. 

Anyway, this entire conversation is pointless, because Trunks still has to go home, whether Beerus is right or not.  So after a billion years, he finally gets back in the time machine, along with Goku and Vegeta, who want to be there in case the bad guys are somehow still in play.  Also, Bulma wants to tag along because she’s always wanted to visit Trunks’ world, and if all goes well, Goku and Vegeta might need someone to help them fly the time machine back home.

Unfortunately, it’s a one-seater, so Bulma has to sit on Trunks’ shoulders. Also, Goku gets motion sickness when he rides this thing. 

Aaaaand it’s time for the #kisscourse.  So, from Mai’s perspective, this whole Saga probably hasn’t even lasted a full 24 hours, right?  Yet somehow she keeps getting attacked and nearly killed while Trunks is away.  In Episode 47 he thought she had died, and then he returns and she’s totally fine.  Then she sends him back in the time machine, and she’s fine in that episode, but now he returns and she took some sort of hit while doing something or other.  I’m pretty sure she was fine in the previous episode, though.

This time, Goku has the senzu beans with him, and he gives one to Trunks, who chews it up and spits it in her mouth with a kiss.  This is supposed to be romantic, but it’s actually really, really dumb.  I’m not a big fan of Future Mai, but I hate how they keep using her as a damsel for Trunks to worry about while he’s away from her.  She was fine before this, and now suddenly she’s so badly hurt that she can’t even swallow a senzu bean, but not so badly hurt that she bled out or anything.  Maybe Goku Black stabbed her with that energy blade of his.  You know, the one that doesn’t kill people?

Also, if anyone did manage to find something romantic in this scene, Goku spoils the moment by revealing he has no idea what kissing is, or why Vegeta would expect a married man to know what it is. 

This caused a lot of drama in the fandom in 2016, mostly because it added fuel to the fire of the ongoing argument about whether Goku has anything resembling human emotions.  Like, does he actually love his wife, the way a man loves a woman, or is he just a clueless dope who only lives with her because he doesn’t know what any of it means?  It’s not a Saiyan thing, since Vegeta seems to understand the societal norms, but for some reason Akira Toriyama will sometimes do interviews about shit like this, and fans will try to use it as ammo to tear down Goku.  A lot of fans held out hope that the subtitles were wrong somehow, and that the dub version or the manga version would clarify this bit, but instead they basically repeated the line, almost word-for-word. 

Now, I already went through all of this nonsense when it happened, but this was the episode where I realized once and for all that this show just sort of throws shit at the wall, and it’s not worth taking it too seriously.  There’s some bitter fuck out there who despises Gochi shippers and desperately wants everyone to think Goku is a manchild ignorant of even the most basic romantic gestures, so that those mean old fans will stop drawing pictures of Goku loving his wife, or Vegeta, or OC’s, or whoever, really.  Goku’s kind of a slut in fanart land. 

Anyway, some bitter fuck out there thinks that if they make an official anime episode that proves their point, everyone will just magically stop enjoying the thing this person hates, because anime episodes are legally binding contracts, and that’s a totally reasonable thing to believe.  Hey, here’s a scene from another anime episode:

So at best, the #kisscourse boils down to arguing over which animation cels are more true than others.  And since the Androids Saga rules ass and the Zamasu Saga sucks ass, I know which one I want in my personal canon.  Hint: It’s the one where Goku makes out with his wife so hard that Master Roshi is stunned into silence.

Anyway, the bad guys show up, and clearly nothing has changed about the timeline, so we’re basically right back where we were before.  The only difference is that Goku thinks he understands who and what Goku Black is, but Goku Black denies his theory.  He isn’t a copy created by the Super Dragon Balls.  Not at all.  His body is the real thing, inhabited by the mind of Zamasu.  How?  He used the Super Dragon Balls to wish for this, but the wish was to switch bodies with Goku. 

But how did he do all of that if Beerus destroyed him?  We’ll get to that next time, and I can promise it won’t be interesting at all.

[my-weird-news]

🔥 Unbelievable: Dinner and Hot Girl Walks Exposed! 😱

The Confusing Circus of Trendy "Girl" Labels You won't believe what my TikTok algorithm had the audacity to ask me the other day: "What kind of insufferable girl are you?" I mean, seriously, it's like the algorithm's become a judgmental aunt at a family gathering. The options it presented were a wild trio: "femcel," as in a radical feminist who's allegedly pathologically unlovable; "coquette," for those who adore bows and bop to Lana Del Rey; or "blogger," which, of course, means me. The original video might've been ditched into the digital abyss (too much insufferableness, perhaps), but I'm telling you, it's stuck in my head like gum on a shoe, not because it was an intellectual masterpiece but because it introduced me to another internet "girl" to add to my collection. Just what I needed, right? Welcome to the era of "girl" obsessions, where the internet's gone gaga over half-baked microtrends involving the word "girl." People are blabbering about their "girl dinners," which, let's be honest, are just glorified fridge clean-outs. Oh, and those "hot girl walks" we're all taking? Yeah, they're just regular strolls with extra flair. And don't forget the "feral girl summers" that somehow make us all feel like wilderness warriors. The internet has spiraled into a rabbit hole of absurdities, trying to decide whether they're "strawberry girls," "cherry girls," or even "tomato girls." I swear, it's like we're building a fruit salad cult. We're deep in "girlboss" territory, doing complex equations with our fabulously fabulous friends during the sizzling "hot girl summer." We're gulping down pink goo and green powders, hoping to transform into "clean girls" or "That Girls." But when those plans flop, what are we left with? Apparently, the crown of "insufferable girls." Eating my girl dinner, strolling my hot girl walk, binging on sad girl music, reading feral girl books, dancing with my girlianas, sipping with my girlipops—every day, a snail's pace towards... well, womanhood. — @EmmaKupor, July 10, 2023 Seriously, if you read these trend labels in sequence, you might wonder if we've all lost our marbles. And who's surprised? A good chunk of the folks riding this "girl" wave are women, and it's a smidge demeaning to treat grown women like toddlers playing dress-up. Are 30-year-olds really supposed to care about being a "strawberry girl" or a "cherry girl"? Shouldn't we have cracked the code of our own personalities by now? We could argue that boxing women into these labels reeks of gender stereotyping, or that stamping ordinary behavior as "girl-coded" merely widens the gender gap. But let's not kid ourselves—these aren't trends, they're just slick marketing ploys. Remember that Saturday Night Live skit where they cooked up a fake teen trend called "souping" to scare parents? Like, teenagers were supposedly getting high on expired soup cans? Classic. It's like today's trend journalism has taken a masterclass from SNL. One video goes viral, chats spark, media jumps in, and before you know it, you're watching the 6 o'clock news, where seniors gasp at how bizarre youngsters have become. And guess who gets the most bewildered mentions? Yep, our girls—because, naturally, they're the ones who must've lost their minds. But here's the kicker: half the time, the original video was a playful jest, meant for an audience who already knew it was bonkers. Take "girl dinner," for instance. It caused an uproar that'd make a volcano jealous, all because it blended womanhood with eating. Olivia Maher, a showrunner's assistant, labeled her medieval-peasant-inspired feast of bread, cheese, pickles, and vino as a "girl dinner." Why? Because she could do whatever the heck she wanted when her boyfriend wasn't around. But oh boy, did that get twisted in the news. Suddenly, this cute oddity turned into an epidemic—like leftover meals were a crisis worthy of international attention. But guess what? The "girl dinner" gig is so last month. I mean, I'm discussing it in August—talk about being fashionably late to the party. But no worries, the internet's churning out new "girl" stuff faster than rabbits procreate. And that's because "girls" sell like hotcakes. Casting our minds back to 2015, we had another "girl" frenzy gripping the bookstores. Remember the time when books like "Gone Girl" and "The Girl on the Train" took over the bestseller lists? Suddenly, every book had to have "girl" slapped somewhere on the cover. But the "girl" craze wasn't just literary—it infiltrated TV shows, movies, and even office lingo. "Girlboss" became a thing, and shows with names like "Good Girls Revolt" and "2 Broke Girls" dominated the airwaves. Seriously, we couldn't escape the "girl" invasion. Now, if you dive into the rabbit hole of analysis, it's not about the age of these "girls" but the themes of their stories. It's all about the transition from girlhood to womanhood, from being someone to being someone's wife or mother, whether that narrative path suits them or not. The protagonist of "The Girl on the Train" exemplifies this—she's like an erased wife, faded into nothingness once the marriage ink dried. This whole "girl" shebang is like a journey back to girlhood, where possibilities are endless. So, these TikTok women aren't merely following trends; they're strategists, plotting their moves like marketing geniuses. They've seen VSCO girls and e-girls break the internet, so they're riding the "girl" wave, because they know it sells. Heck, even this year's blockbuster movie and the record-breaking musical tour revolve around women in their 30s navigating their unique versions of girlhood. People will always be intrigued by girls—partly because they're not quite women, which makes them less of a target for scorn. Girls are like trending snacks, readily consumed, and they've got more avenues than ever. In the end, these online ladies aren't just trend-followers; they're marketing moguls in the making, crafting click-worthy labels that break the internet. We've all turned into mini-publishers, hoping to milk the anticipation of girls blossoming into full-fledged women. And in the process, we might end up a bit insufferable, but hey, at least we're stylishly insufferable. This zany column first hit the world through the Vox Culture newsletter. And hey, if you're up for supporting journalistic clownery like mine, why not throw a few coins Vox's way? They're not just banking on ads and subscriptions—they're all about bringing quality info to the masses. Will you support Vox's explanatory tomfoolery? *Most news outlets juggle cash from ads and# The Confusing Circus of Trendy "Girl" Labels You won't believe what my TikTok algorithm had the audacity to ask me the other day: "What kind of insufferable girl are you?" I mean, seriously, it's like the algorithm's become a judgmental aunt at a family gathering. The options it presented were a wild trio: "femcel," as in a radical feminist who's allegedly pathologically unlovable; "coquette," for those who adore bows and bop to Lana Del Rey; or "blogger," which, of course, means me. The original video might've been ditched into the digital abyss (too much insufferableness, perhaps), but I'm telling you, it's stuck in my head like gum on a shoe, not because it was an intellectual masterpiece but because it introduced me to another internet "girl" to add to my collection. Just what I needed, right? Welcome to the era of "girl" obsessions, where the internet's gone gaga over half-baked microtrends involving the word "girl." People are blabbering about their "girl dinners," which, let's be honest, are just glorified fridge clean-outs. Oh, and those "hot girl walks" we're all taking? Yeah, they're just regular strolls with extra flair. And don't forget the "feral girl summers" that somehow make us all feel like wilderness warriors. The internet has spiraled into a rabbit hole of absurdities, trying to decide whether they're "strawberry girls," "cherry girls," or even "tomato girls." I swear, it's like we're building a fruit salad cult. We're deep in "girlboss" territory, doing complex equations with our fabulously fabulous friends during the sizzling "hot girl summer." We're gulping down pink goo and green powders, hoping to transform into "clean girls" or "That Girls." But when those plans flop, what are we left with? Apparently, the crown of "insufferable girls." Eating my girl dinner, strolling my hot girl walk, binging on sad girl music, reading feral girl books, dancing with my girlianas, sipping with my girlipops—every day, a snail's pace towards... well, womanhood. — @EmmaKupor, July 10, 2023 Seriously, if you read these trend labels in sequence, you might wonder if we've all lost our marbles. And who's surprised? A good chunk of the folks riding this "girl" wave are women, and it's a smidge demeaning to treat grown women like toddlers playing dress-up. Are 30-year-olds really supposed to care about being a "strawberry girl" or a "cherry girl"? Shouldn't we have cracked the code of our own personalities by now? We could argue that boxing women into these labels reeks of gender stereotyping, or that stamping ordinary behavior as "girl-coded" merely widens the gender gap. But let's not kid ourselves—these aren't trends, they're just slick marketing ploys. Remember that Saturday Night Live skit where they cooked up a fake teen trend called "souping" to scare parents? Like, teenagers were supposedly getting high on expired soup cans? Classic. It's like today's trend journalism has taken a masterclass from SNL. One video goes viral, chats spark, media jumps in, and before you know it, you're watching the 6 o'clock news, where seniors gasp at how bizarre youngsters have become. And guess who gets the most bewildered mentions? Yep, our girls—because, naturally, they're the ones who must've lost their minds. But here's the kicker: half the time, the original video was a playful jest, meant for an audience who already knew it was bonkers. Take "girl dinner," for instance. It caused an uproar that'd make a volcano jealous, all because it blended womanhood with eating. Olivia Maher, a showrunner's assistant, labeled her medieval-peasant-inspired feast of bread, cheese, pickles, and vino as a "girl dinner." Why? Because she could do whatever the heck she wanted when her boyfriend wasn't around. But oh boy, did that get twisted in the news. Suddenly, this cute oddity turned into an epidemic—like leftover meals were a crisis worthy of international attention. But guess what? The "girl dinner" gig is so last month. I mean, I'm discussing it in August—talk about being fashionably late to the party. But no worries, the internet's churning out new "girl" stuff faster than rabbits procreate. And that's because "girls" sell like hotcakes. Casting our minds back to 2015, we had another "girl" frenzy gripping the bookstores. Remember the time when books like "Gone Girl" and "The Girl on the Train" took over the bestseller lists? Suddenly, every book had to have "girl" slapped somewhere on the cover. But the "girl" craze wasn't just literary—it infiltrated TV shows, movies, and even office lingo. "Girlboss" became a thing, and shows with names like "Good Girls Revolt" and "2 Broke Girls" dominated the airwaves. Seriously, we couldn't escape the "girl" invasion. Now, if you dive into the rabbit hole of analysis, it's not about the age of these "girls" but the themes of their stories. It's all about the transition from girlhood to womanhood, from being someone to being someone's wife or mother, whether that narrative path suits them or not. The protagonist of "The Girl on the Train" exemplifies this—she's like an erased wife, faded into nothingness once the marriage ink dried. This whole "girl" shebang is like a journey back to girlhood, where possibilities are endless. So, these TikTok women aren't merely following trends; they're strategists, plotting their moves like marketing geniuses. They've seen VSCO girls and e-girls break the internet, so they're riding the "girl" wave, because they know it sells. Heck, even this year's blockbuster movie and the record-breaking musical tour revolve around women in their 30s navigating their unique versions of girlhood. People will always be intrigued by girls—partly because they're not quite women, which makes them less of a target for scorn. Girls are like trending snacks, readily consumed, and they've got more avenues than ever. In the end, these online ladies aren't just trend-followers; they're marketing moguls in the making, crafting click-worthy labels that break the internet. We've all turned into mini-publishers, hoping to milk the anticipation of girls blossoming into full-fledged women. And in the process, we might end up a bit insufferable, but hey, at least we're stylishly insufferable. This zany column first hit the world through the Vox Culture newsletter. And hey, if you're up for supporting journalistic clownery like mine, why not throw a few coins Vox's way? They're not just banking on ads and subscriptions—they're all about bringing quality info to the masses. Will you support Vox's explanatory tomfoolery? *Most news outlets juggle cash from ads and Read the full article

[writersblog20]

Pancakes and a Milkshake

Pedro Pascal x reader

Summary: When everything gets a little bit too much and you have a slight moment of crisis, Pedro comes to the rescue with pancakes and a milkshake. Who would’ve thought what pancakes and milkshakes could bring you

Warnings: mention of anxiety and stress, edibles and smoking weed, reader gets picked up in her sleep by Pedro, vomiting because of stress, mention of a nightmare, calming medication

Words: 3,6K

A/N: So this is actually happening and I just can’t…. I need Pedro to take me out for pancakes and a milkshake and comfort me because I don’t know how I’ll survive on Monday. Please wish me luck and pray for me that I won’t make a fool out of myself

Pancakes and Milkshakes🥞🍨

To say you were stressed was an understatement. You were in the midst of exams and school made it way more troubled than it had to be. For example, they just told you that you had to have a conversation with an potential client from the branch where you wanted to go in. So you had to ask your boss, the one you unfortunately fell in love with. You had to choose him because that would be the most obvious decision and it would help you with your grade.

But now you were panicking and stressing about it for obvious reasons. For starters, you weren’t only dealing with the stress and anxiety about your oral exams but also the stress and anxiety with seeing your boss again, for the first time in a very long time, knowing that those feelings come rushing back and you really weren’t waiting for that.

Anyway, the point is, you were beyond exhausted and stressed yourself out to no point. Pedro saw it and wanted to help you but you shut yourself off. You were even counting the days. If it was just an oral exam with your teacher you wouldn’t have 90% of the stress that you were experiencing now.

Pedro stayed with you for a while so he could film in the location without renting a house. You and Pedro met on a set where you helped your uncle and you both hit it off right from the bat. You have never felt comfortable so fast with someone you just met. So when days passed and Pedro told you about the terrible place he was renting, you offered him a room in your house. Pedro didn’t want to be a burden so with some back and forth, you finally convinced him that he wouldn’t be a burden and that you would actually enjoy some company.

So that’s how we got to this point. You and Pedro had some amazing days already. You cooked together, watched some sitcoms and movies that he wanted you to see and it was just amazing. You couldn’t explain how you felt so incredibly comfortable around him. Yeah he definitely deserved the title zaddy from the internet.

So today was a lazy day. But as the days grew closer, the higher your anxiety and stress got to you. You weren’t sleeping well, felt physically sick and drained to the bone. Pedro could see it from a mile away. The bags underneath your eyes and the how much you’ve clenched your jaw that it was even visible when you weren’t clenching. Yeah you were a mess. You did tell Pedro the situation but you couldn’t bring yourself to open up more. That wasn’t because of Pedro. No it was because you didn’t want to say it out loud because if you did, then it would be real so you kept it shut because you really did believe that this was the way to keep in control of the situation when the day would come.

Pedro made some dinner but you really had no appetite. It was silent at the table and Pedro kept a close eye on you while eating the pasta he made and drank some of his wine. “You know what we should do?” he asked you with a smirk on his face and a playful undertone. You looked up and chuckled slightly at his mischievous look. “Edibles….. Or smoke a joint. Doesn’t really matter but why don’t we get high tonight?” he asked you and you chuckled a little, sitting back in your chair, looking at Pedro to see if he was serious, which he was. His face said it all with the raised eyebrow and playful smile on his face.

You looked down and thought about it. “Yeah, why not. At this point I’ll do anything to feel a bit relaxed.” You chuckled. Pedro immediately got a big smile on his face and leaned more forward. “Okay, so I got gummy bears, lollypops, even cotton candy and of course normal weed.” You chuckled. “I’ll think I’ll smoke a joint and maybe take a gummy bear” You told him with a smirk and took a sip of your red wine. Pedro smiled “Alright then.”

After dinner, you cleaned the kitchen since Pedro cooked. He came downstairs with the edible and weed. “You know how to roll sweetheart?” Pedro asked you. You shook your head “No just how to put everything in and crush it but not how to roll.” Pedro nodded with a soft smile “Alright, I’ll show you.” you smiled and nodded. You searched for a vinyl to listen to and put it on the record player. Pedro smiled as he heard the tune. You put some blues on for now and sat next to Pedro.

You had a pretty cozy livingroom to say the least. A lot of things were from wood so it gave a cabin vibe but a bit bigger and a  little more luxurious because of the kitchen and how big your house was. It wasn’t a very big house, more regular but still bigger than a cabin if you know what I mean. The candles illuminated both of your faces while Pedro showed you how to roll a joint. He gave you one so could try it but obviously it wasn’t so  easy the first time and Pedro saw your frustration and chuckled softly, taking it from you. “It’s okay babe, it almost never happens that you get it the first time. It takes practice.” You nodded. You filled the joint and let Pedro roll it so you were still doing something.

You put on the fireplace since it started snowing pretty bad and sat back in your place, your feet up on the table just like Pedro. He gave you a gummy and you clinked it as if it was a wine glass. You both chuckled and ate the edibles before smoking the joint, passing it over to each other. You leaned your head on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. You could already feel some of the tension leave your body and making you feel fuzzy.

You and Pedro started chatting about everything and listening to the music with some laughter in between because of the high. After a while you decided to watch a movie while Pedro lit the other joint. He could see that you were trying to lay down comfortably on the couch but was failing miserably. “Come here, princess. Rest your head on my lap.” He told you softly and scooted closer to you, taking a blanket and a pillow with him. He placed the pillow on his lap as you turned around to lay your head on his lap. When you finally laid down comfortably, he placed the blanket over your body. You held a part of his leg, for some more comfort and Pedro was completely fine with that.

Pedro softly went with his hand over your head and an adoring smile on his face. “This better princess?” You nodded softly, completely relaxed and high at this point. “Yeah, this is very nice. Thank you.” you mumbled a bit and Pedro had that same soft smile on his face. He bended forward a bit so he could place a kiss on your head. Pedro started the movie and now and then passed you the joint. This wasn’t the first time smoking a joint so you knew how much you could take and handle.

Pedro had his arm resting around your body and you felt so safe, relaxed and comfortable with him that you started to feel fuzzy inside and not from the weed this time. Pedro softly rubbed your arm while being glued to the tv. Your eyes started to get heavy and it was a losing battle so you just closed them, falling into a deep slumber.

~time skip~

You woke up from a nightmare and you sat straight up, rubbing your face. You looked around and saw that you were in your room. Pedro must’ve brought you to bed. You were sweating and your breathing was uneven when all the panic and stress started rushing back to you, making you almost sick to your stomach.

You quickly struggled to get out of bed and to the bathroom, clinging to the toilet and threw everything out. This wasn’t new to you. When you were in a serious amount of stress, it would make you physically ill. Once you were done, you flushed the toilet and brushed your teeth before making your way downstairs to get your calming meds.

You went into the kitchen and struggled to search for your meds with shaky hands until you heard Pedro’s voice. “You looking for these sweetheart?” he asked you softly and you quickly looked at him before slowly nodding. He gave them to you with a sad smile. “Where did you get these?” you asked him. “I saw that you placed them in your bag and figured that you forgot to take them out.” You nodded and took them with a glass of water. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?” you asked him softly, feeling guilty.

“Don’t worry about that princess. Let me make you a cup of tea. Go sit on the couch sweetheart.” He told you, making you nod. You made your way to the couch and stared out of your window. The whole city was covered white while more was still falling from the sky. You felt some sort of serenity and calmness floating over you. Snow always had that effect on you.

Before you knew it Pedro sat next to you with the tea. “Thank you P, but you don’t have to stay with me. You need sleep.” You told him, looking at him for a minute and then stared out of the window again. Pedro looked at you in all seriousness. “Y/N, You are more important to me. I’ll stay as long as needed princess. Talk to me.” he told you the last part soft.

You felt fuzzy from what he said to you and you gave him a sad smile but stayed silent. Pedro noticed and nodded before scooping closer to you. “Come here than.” He told you and you were aching for some comfort. Pedro already had his arms open for you as a hint. You climbed over Pedro and sat besides him, your legs over his while the side of your body was tightly against his. His arms wrapped around you. He tucked your head softly underneath his chin and gave a kiss on your head. And that was it. Both staying silent but still he provided all the comfort he could and let’s be real, you really, like really needed this.

You started to calm down a bit. “I’m a bit hungry… but like hungry for fast food…” Pedro suddenly spoke out. You looked up at him confused. “I think we should get some pancakes…. Maybe a milkshake with that?” he hinted with a soft smile. You thought about it and smiled at the idea. “Yeah, that sounds nice.” Your voice so soft that you weren’t sure if he heard you or not. “Okay, let’s get some pancakes, sweetheart. I know I great place that’s open 24/7.” Just with the line “Let’s get some pancakes.” Was an opening to your heart.

You got off Pedro’s lap and stood up. You were wearing an oversized hoodie and joggings, and Pedro was wearing some pajamas with a funny design. You looked down at the two of you. “Don’t worry, we don’t have to change.” You nodded and to be honest, you couldn’t give a fuck about your clothes right now. Pedro smiled and threw his arm around your shoulders, leading you outside and towards his car. You stepped in and now you saw what time it actually was. 2 AM. Pedro noticed and saw how your face fell a bit. “Hey, like I said, you are more important. Besides, I can’t pass up on pancakes with you, are you kidding me?” he made the situation lighter and achieved to get a smile on your face. “Let’s get some pancakes than.” You told him back with a soft but confident smile.

“There’s my girl.” He chuckled, making you smile shyly as he drove off. It didn’t take long to arrive. This was a side of the city that you never really went so seeing this restaurant was a positive surprise. It was like a diner straight from the 80’s. pink everywhere, jukeboxes and everything. You smiled at Pedro who held out his hand for you to grab which you happily applied to do so.

You both walked in, still wearing the pajama’s. It was a sight on its own but you wouldn’t want it any other way. You both sat down in the retro seats. You were happy that they had the lights lower so it gave off a homey and nice vibe.

The waitress walked your way and took your orders. Pancakes and a big strawberry milkshake. When she walked away, Pedro leaned backwards and looked at you. “Princess, I need you to talk to me. bobbling this up, is not going to work. Let me help you carry some of the weight. I might not be able to take it away but then I know how I can help and support you.” Pedro sat more forwards as he took your cold hands in his. Pedro started rubbing them, trying to warm them up. You took a deep sigh and decided to just open up. Maybe it’ll work and if not, then you don’t have that much to lose.

You started telling him about it all. Where it started, what is bothering you right now and what’s going on in your own head. Pedro listened intently to your story, keeping eye contact and held your hands, softly drawing circles with his thumb on the back of your hand. “We’ll get through this and I’ll be besides you with every step. I know it might not help a lot but I want you to know that I am certain that you will nail this. You are too amazing and you are so much stronger than you think. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen you and this… I know this is a big deal right now, but I know that you are going to get through this with a good grade. Otherwise, I’ll come to your school and make a scene.” He told the last part to lift the heaviness off.

You chuckled slightly which left a smile on Pedro’s face. “You know I’ll do it!” he told you, making you laugh, knowing he was serious. You nodded. “I know all of that but it’s just the feelings. Feelings aren’t rational, at least not in this moment.” Pedro nodded. “But this helps.” You told him with a soft smile which he returned. You felt that fuzzy feeling inside again when he smiled at you with those soft kind eyes, his bed hair and his silly pajamas which you actually loved a lot.

You took a deep sigh as your meds started to kick in. You nodded “I got this. I just need to survive the days following up to it.” Pedro smiled. “and I’ll help with that, I promise.” He told you and took your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on them, making you smile.

The food arrived with the milkshake that you and Pedro would share. You giggled at how old fashioned it looked and absolutely loved it. It even had a red cherry on top with some sprinkles on the whipped cream. “This looks amazing.” You told him with a smile and looked him. Pedro had that same mischievous smile on his face as he had before. He opened his palm and you saw two gummy bears. You looked at him with a grin and took one. “Cheers” you said as you clinked the gummy’s together and put it in your mouth, Pedro mirroring you.

You didn’t have to worry about Pedro driving because it would probably kick in when you arrived home. ( Edibles take a while sometimes.) You devoured the pancakes, now realizing how hungry you actually were. Pedro smiled, seeing how content you were. Both giggling while you shared the milkshake. You both joked around a little and you felt the stress lifting off of you. When you were done, Pedro paid while you put your coat on. Pedro came back and had something in his hands which made you curios but he put it behind his back. “It’s a surprise.” He told you with a smile. You knew he wasn’t telling you right now so you let it go. “Thank you P. For everything.” You told him and he smiled. “Everything for my favorite girl in the world.” You felt flustered and saw that Pedro was blushing and had a shy smile upon his lips.

You stepped in the car and instead of driving home, he drove to an empty field. You frowned a bit, not knowing what was going on. You’ve been here a million times before and it was close to your house but you didn’t understand why you were here.

You looked confused at Pedro, who smiled. “I know that the snow relaxes you, so this is the perfect spot to drink our extra Slurpee’s I got and smoke a joint before we go inside.” You smiled brightly. Pedro knew you too well. He gave you a couple cd’s so you could pick out the music while Pedro put his feet up on the dashboard and put the windows just a bit down. It was now a bit past 3AM but you couldn’t explain how much this has helped you. If you were still at home than you were a 100% certain that you would have a panic attack and a really bad one at that.

You both stared at the snow falling down while slurping on the Slurpee’s and sharing the joint while listening to the music. “P…?” Pedro looked at you. “Could you maybe stay with me tonight? In case the nightmares come back?” you asked him softly and he just smiled, kissing the top of your head. “Of course I will princess.” You smiled softly and stared in front of you again.

“You ready to go home?” he asked you as it was 4 AM now. You nodded with a yawn, which made Pedro laugh as he drove the last 3 minutes to your house. He opened the door and you shivered as you walked in the house. “Do you want to sleep here or in your bedroom? I really don’t mind.” You nodded but almost felt guilty. “Can we sleep here?” you asked him, feeling like a burden. “So a sleepover! Of course! I’ll get the pillows and blankets! You search for a good movie okay?” Pedro’s excitement washed away your negative feelings. You loved how childlike he sometimes could be but in a good way.

You put the couch out (you could put it out and make a bed from it). Pedro came downstairs but wasn’t even visible behind all the pillows and blankets. You chuckled and helped him out. You both tried to make the bed but you were both as high as a kite. So try making a bed and not fall into a fit of laughter. Finally, you both got the couch to work as a bed. Pedro swinged his arms up as an achievement which made you chuckle.

You laid down and got the tv remote, Pedro joining you. You both put on a movie that interested you both and when it started, it was time to get comfortable. You turned towards Pedro and he already held his arm up so you could lay down on his chest. You held his pajama tightly in your hand while his arm was wrapped around you, pulling you closer. You watched the movie a bit but felt yourself grow tired again. “Thank you for being my favorite person on this earth.” You told Pedro, who chuckled. “And you too for also being my favorite person princess.” He told you and pressed a kiss on your head, pulling you close and let out a deep sigh from relaxation.

The panic and stress wasn’t going away but with Pedro by your side, you knew it was going to be okay. And maybe now, you didn’t have to worry about the feelings towards your boss anymore because Pedro had your heart in his hands, and you trusted him with everything you got. So in the end, it actually worked out and your negative feelings were reduced and positive feelings got into that place.

You finally fell asleep in Pedro’s arms in a deep, peaceful sleep, feeling as if you were in the safest place on earth. And all of that because of some pancakes and a milkshake. One thing was for sure, the universe has it’s own crazy and funny way of how things would go.

[quirklessidiot]

Title: pretty eyes [short story] Pairing: Gojo Satoru x gn!reader [soulmate au; takes place eight years before the yuuji and sukuna fusion] Genre: josei, romance, fluff, comedy, and your normal tragic angst!

Summary: in which the right eye is mine and the left eye is yours and when we meet for the first time, you see your own eyes staring back at you. Warnings: language, blood, minor manga spoilers, mild ooc gojo and death

Notes:  can we all just sit down admire satoru? Like the eyes man, the attitude omg... Ah im so sorry in advance  if hes ooc here sksksk it is my first time to write about any jjk characters and I havent fully grasped them yet despite reading the manga anyways i wont be online next week and tomorrow so i decided to publish this ahead of time. ily all and again thank you for the love and support, it does mean a lot *bows down* see you all again when i’ve got time? jskskss i fucking hate college and online classes, satoru save me please soulmate au’s [not read in any particular order nor are they connected, they just share the same trope]  Pretty eyes [gojo vers.] ||  lasting blues [toji vers]

tragic soulmate au series || taglist 

“Pretty.” were the very first words you uttered in complete awe as you saw yourself in the mirror and no, this wasn’t directed to your physical appearance. It was directed to your left eye, the eye of your soulmate.

Contrasting to your normal boring color on the right, your soulmate’s eyes were ethereal and unreal. How could someone have such pretty eyes? It was completely surreal at that point that you refused to believe that someone with these eyes were actually human.

You placed one hand and gently caressed the left side of your face where the pretty eye rested, “You must be an angel.” you muttered, “Only angels have pretty eyes.”

Thus      like every child     you gave your soulmate a nickname, ‘pretty angel’  and every night before you slept, you’d wonder out loud how your pretty angel was doing, if they were nearby, or anything like that. You wonder what type of food they like, do they like to leave the window open for a cool wind or do they like their chocolate hot or iced.

Yet as you grew older, the pretty angel faded out into your thoughts. The pretty idea of soulmates and love disappeared like the story books you read as a child. The pretty blue eyes on your left is forgotten as life takes a toll on you.

They say death was inevitable, when your mother died in middle school, you watch as your father’s left eye turn to your mother’s color. You watched as he clenched her hand, like it was some last resort of plea. You watched him cry as he passed by the mirrors and you wondered, would it hurt like that too?

It baffles you how beautiful and cruel the soulmate system was.

How every time your father would stare at his own reflection, his left eye would be nothing but a reminder of your dead mother.

You let out a second meek cough in the quiet bookstore that night, the sounds of the car passing by were nothing but quiet noise to you as you immerse yourself in the literature book you were reading, your students would surely love this one.You let out another cough as you turn around to find a small space to read since standing for too long made you tired too quickly. 

You’re too enchanted by the words of the author that you don’t even notice the rather tall man in front of you.

You look up, ready to give a quiet apology but stop short when you notice how ethereal the stranger looked. Albeit he wore a pair of weird Lennon shades at this time of night, he reminded you very much of an angel with his snow white hair.

You don’t even notice how your left eye is returning back to it’s normal color, the stranger does though and it surely was odd to see his eyes on a stranger.

“Well,” the stranger has a shit-eating grin decorating his handsome features, he definitely looked like trouble for sure, “This is unexpected.”

He lowers his shades and your eyes immediately widen as you suddenly cup the left side of your face, you’d recognize those unique eyes anywhere, after all, you had those on your left eye since you were born, “Y-You.” you muttered, the shock momentarily eating you up.

“Yeah, me.” He grins, loving the sudden attention, “Wow, I was expecting something like fireworks or flowers to appear.” He suddenly teased, bending down to your level.

Now that you notice it, he was very, very tall.

“I…” You blink, trying to gain your composure, “Wow…”

“Did I pass your expectations?” it’s been a few minutes since you started talking and all he has been doing is teasing you. 

“You do look like an angel.” You complimented and his eyes widened at the rather out-of-place compliment, “Your eyes are very pretty, thanks for letting me borrow them for twenty-two years.”

Gojo Satoru thought he had the upper-hand, after all, you looked quite meek but when you said those compliments, he was sure that you were going to be the teasing one in this whole-soulmate thing.

So he tries to one up you.

“I’m Satoru Gojo but you can call me tonight.” He grinned, trying to tease you once again, the corny pick up line sounds suave but your blank expression says otherwise.

“I’m Y/N L/N and  think I should call you in the morning, it is quite late right now and I still have classes at eight am.” You mumbled, looking down at your watch, “How about you just walk me home, then?”

“Okay.” Satoru immediately raises his hands, signaling that he was giving up, “First off, you should be more hyper aware that I may be a serial killer.”

“Are you?”

“What?”

“Are you a serial killer?” you repeat, “That would be awfully disappointing if my soulmate was one since I���d immediately give you up on the police. I’m not interested in being in a Bonnie and Clyde type of thing and I think it’s too early for me to die.”

“You’re very upfront about these sorts of things.”

“Well, you’re very teasing for someone who just met their soulmate a few minutes ago.” you shrug, “So, are you going to walk me home or not?”

“Ah, bossy too. I love the attitude already.”

“We’re spending our whole lives together. You might as well get used to it.”

You’d think the idea of soulmates would scare you after the firsthand experience with your parents but curiosity always got the best of you and the white-haired man proved that maybe it would be different this time.

Throughout the few months you’ve spent with him, You’ve noticed that Gojo Satoru and you may be alike in some ways but in most ways, he was different. 

First, he was enigmatic. You’ve known the man for a couple of months now and you’ve been going out on dates but you don’t know much about him except that like you, he’s a teacher at a good school and he tends to be conceited when he talks about his personal skills as a teacher.

“...What are you doing?” Satoru asked, peeking from behind your shoulder as you type in the grades of your student for your class.

“I’m grading my students.” You muttered, it was after dinner at your place and he was lazing around your place, the sound of faint jazz music could be heard throughout your small space and the wafting smell of freshly baked brownies filled the room, “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something since you're a teacher?”

Satoru quirks a brow as if you had said something odd then it seemed like realization had dawn upon him at that moment.

“Ah, I’m not doing much since my students are on break.”

“Didn’t you say that last time?”

Silence filled the room and Satoru breaks it off with his very famous ‘heh’ that made you inwardly roll your eyes and chunk the pillow that you’ve been hugging towards his direction, “Stop slacking off, you’re a teacher.” You scold him mildly, followed by a small cough.

“Ah, Y/N-chan. You’re so mean to me,” He frowned, handing you the mug filled with water, “...No fair.”

“You're a teacher and you’re slacking off.” You deadpanned, ignoring his sly ways of trying to get you in his arms, “How is that even fair?”

“My students can handle themselves so well that I don’t need to babysit them.” He hmphed,  arms crossed and head held up high in a rather arrogant manner. You could only only scoff back a reply at his rather haughty attitude but you’ve gotten used to it to the point where you just roll your eyes.

“You’re a very bad teacher, Satoru.” 

“Hey, I am considered one of the best and it’s an honor-”

You clicked your tongue and just pinched his cheek in reply to get him to stop drawling on about his achievements. You wondered if you dated a man child or something.

Second, despite his teasing nature and good looks, he’s a rather shy bean and has some insecurities about it too, maybe it was because there were moments where you couldn’t really understand your soulmate and his puzzling life. He didn’t tell and you didn’t want to pry because you technically both had your whole life to get around that subject.

Luckily, you seem to have found a remedy for moments like that.

“Satoru…” You called out to your soulmate who was staring at the nutrition content of the wafers on his hand, “Satoru!” 

“Oh, sorry. What were you talking about?” he finally snapped out of his daze and turned to you who was standing there, hand on your hip. The crispy wafers on his hand are long forgotten. 

Your soulmate is good looking, alright. If anyone were to pass by him they wouldn’t see the minor zilch of worry in his eyes.

“Are you alright?” You ask, walking closer to him, completely serious.

“...You aren’t going to leave me, right?” 

You raise a brow at the sudden question, wasn’t he too young to have some mid-life crisis? Was this because of the soulmate movie you watched late last night about the soulmate leaving their other half to rebel against the system and because of his partner’s family?

“Why would I leave you?”

He blinks once, then twice, the only sound that could be heard was the familiar music playing throughout the grocery store, it was as if no one was there during the mid-day. Satoru proceeds to look away, “I don’t know. What if you realize that you don’t like me as your soulmate and you followed what the dude did in the movie?” he started to mumble, mouth pressed on a straight line.

“Ah, the whole rich in-laws.” you blinked, “Don’t tell me you’re a son of some huge clan in japan that’s loaded and I’m going to be a disgrace to your family name or something?”

It came out as a joke at first, it really did and you were going to laugh but when you notice the straight face he has on, you realize it was anything but a joke.

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, Oh.” 

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one asking that question then?”

“What?” He almost half-yelled, eyes wide behind his usual shades that he seemed to wear a lot, “That doesn’t make sense!”

“Neither does your question, Satoru.” You frowned, massaging your temples, “I should be the one asking you that, are you going to leave me?”

“Of course not.” He sputters out.

“Then there goes my answer too.” You replied, huffing out as you grab the sweet wafers on his hand to put into the cart, “You’re very weird.”

“You’re weird.”

“No, you are.”

“You seriously asked me if I’d leave you because of your rich family in the middle of the day.” You deadpanned, inching closer to him to the point where your lips are brushing against his.

“This is unfair.” He huffed, suddenly turning red, “You’re attacking me in broad daylight.”

“Oh dear.” Your beguiling eyes, enjoying his rather embarrassed state, “This isn’t attacking, Satoru.”

Then you closed the distance between you two, his eyes seemed to widen behind his shades at your forward approach, clearly you guys never did PDA. You took this as an opportunity to lick his lower lip so you could slip your tongue in and as he starts getting into it and placing his hand to cup your ass, you pull away with a big smile on your lips, “That’s attacking.” you grinned.

Satoru seemed to have regained his senses quickly after that rather heated public make-out session, he placed his hand on top of his mouth and feigned embarrassment, “My, My, I didn’t think you’d enjoy those types of things in public.” he was back to his normal teasing self.

Well, that seemed to have worked very well.

“Mhm,” 

Yet unknown to you those thoughts still lingered in his head, it wasn’t just his family that he was worried about, it was also regarding his job as a jujutsu sorcerer       something he has yet to mention, he’s not even sure if you’d believe him       it’s a normal occurrence for people like him to die in this occupation and he’s scared that one day, you’ll see your left eye turning back to his eye color with no valid explanation.

Not only that but the amount of people who’d go after you to get to him, he clenched on the shopping cart tightly

“I’m tired.” You cut his thoughts short and Satoru turns to you, unlike him, you weren’t physically active so you tire easily, even joking around that you were a granny in a child’s body, “Can we sit down after this and get some gyudon?”

“Sure Y/N.” he grins, giving you a one-arm hug and kissing your temple.

Third, he’s terrible with kids, period, no questions asked. 

Your eyes narrowed to slits as he brought in one of his students named Megumi, the boy is quiet and compared to your giant and teasing soulmate, he’s serious. In fact he was more serious than the tiny pinky of the white-haired man.

“...Are you kidnapping a third grader?”

“He’s one of my students.”

“You don’t even know the first thing of looking after kids.” You pointed out, “And didn’t you mention that you teach high school students?”

“Well,” he drawled on, “It’s kind of a long story but he’s technically a genius.”

You let out a stifling sigh, “You’re impossible.” you mutter, bending down to the small boy’s level, “Would you like something to eat in compensation for him annoying you?”

The boy nods mutely.

“I wasn’t annoying him!” He corrects.

“He looks very annoyed standing next to you.”

“That’s literally what he looks like!”

You roll your eyes in reply and turn to the young boy, handing him a pastry that you had brought earlier. You  watched Megumi eat his pastry in front of the television that played some child-friendly show as you let out a soft cough and pour yourself some water

“Are you alright?” Satoru asks, resting his head on your shoulders.

“Yeah,” You replied, “Why’d you ask?”

“You’re looking quite pale these days.”

“Maybe it’s the allergy season, already.”  you nonchalantly replied, taking another gulp of water, “You’re terrible with kids, by the way.”

“That’s why I’m a high school teacher, Y/N.”

This connects you to your fourth observation, he’s nonchalant and easy going but he harbors a rather deep worry for you to the point where you wonder if he was really your soulmate or your mother incarnate. Three years into the whole soulmate thing with him, you still couldn’t help but think that he’s doting nature was quite adorable.

You feel like you’re coming down with a cold these days, your head has been throbbing and your cough is worsening. Satoru’s eyes are filled with nothing but worry as he handed you some medication. Your soulmate was now a mother hen and if it were different circumstances, you’d laugh it off.

“We should go to the doctor.” He nagged you once again.

“I’m literally going to sleep it off.” You hoarsely replied, “I’ll be fine, Satoru.”

“You literally sound like you smoked a pack with your voice, are you sure?”

“I am.” You glared, “Don’t sleep-”

Before you could even finish what you were saying, he flops right next to you in the bed, “-I literally told you to not sleep next to me.” you scolded him.

“A mere cold won’t phase me.”

“I swear to god, Gojo Satoru. I’ll kick you out.” He ignores your ministrations and snuggles his head on your neck, his warm breath tickling it, “You’re impossible.”

“You love me.”

“Sadly.”

“Hey.”

“I’m kidding.” you let out a quiet chuckle, looking down at your soulmate and running your hands through his white hair, “I love you very much, you idiot.”

“Hard same.”

“Never mind, I take it back.” you giggle.

And after a rather short playful banter between you two, you find yourself sleeping and snuggling on his long limbs. You think all is well, you really do. That was until you wake up later at three am in the morning with a loud coughing fit. Satoru immediately sits upright and opens your nightlight but what he sees next, scares him more than the curses he has ever encountered.

Your sheets are now stained in blood from the coughing fit that had just happened and you're completely taken aback too, completely breathless.

“Y-Y/N…” He gulps down, quickly taking the sheets away from you, “Let’s go to the hospital now, please?”

“...L/N-san, have you been getting coughing fits before this?” the doctor asks, looking up from your chart. Satoru watches you shake your head as you clench the paws of his jacket, the doctor takes off his glasses, “How about coughs that don’t seem to go away? Getting tired too easily?”

Satoru doesn’t like where this was going, he doesn’t like where this was going at all.

“Um, just some dry coughs and I’ve always been an inactive person.” You quietly replied, contrasting to your usual bright and teasing demeanor, you looked too tired this morning and Satoru just hopes it’s because he dragged you out of bed at four am to get yourself checked asap.

“Y/N-san, has any of your family members been diagnosed with lung cancer?”

The whole room is silent and you could almost hear a pin drop, Satoru feels his knuckles suddenly turn white, “I recalled my okaasan died because of that.” You replied silently and the doctor nods feverishly.

“...Y/N-san...It pains me to say this but the reason you’ve been experiencing this is because of the tumors located in your lungs.” Satoru feels his heart drop when he hears those words, “We have to do further tests to confirm-”

“Do it.” Satoru cuts the old doctor off, his hands are visibly shaking already, he hopes that this was just a misdiagnosis, that this doctor was just a bad one or better yet whatever excuse his mind could make up at that moment, “Do all the tests needed for Y/N, please.”

Fifth, he’s very supportive towards you and your impulsive decisions. If he could join you in it, he would but you usually decide against it.

It’s another quiet night for you as you sit across from your soulmate at the dinner table. You’ve grown awfully thin and your hair was starting to fall off due to the chemoradiation, this day marked the third month since you found out that you have lung cancer just like your mother. Surgery was apparently too risky so the safest option right now was this treatment. 

You don’t deny the anxiety eating you up every day, specifically the fear of death, you’re even more worried for Satoru since not only had he been paying for your treatment but he had opt to take care of you, saying that his job would be fine without him since you were going to get better soon anyways.

“Would you still love me if I shaved my hair?” You asked, your voice still quite hoarse.

“You kidding me? I’d still love you even if you turned into a roach.”

You immediately crinkle your nose in disgust, “That’s disgusting.”

“Honest reply.”

Truthfully, the man had been your rock these past three months. You knew how hard it was for him to be happy around you, how he had put on a brave front and remained positive saying that this was just going to be a rough couple of months and you’d be back in no time despite the bleak outlook.

It kept you sane amongst the tragedy.

“I wanna shave my hair.”

“Like right now?”

You nod, “Can we use your electric razor?”

“You want me.” he points to himself, “To cut your hair?”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to do it.” You grinned.

And that’s how you ended up in your bathroom after dinner, Satoru’s shades on the side and his concentration directly on your scalp. You had literally told him that he just needed to do it the same way as he shaved his beard but he was still scared. Apparently, he had never shaved anyone’s hair before.

“...Okay, Y/N. Here goes…” He proclaimed, switching the razor on. As bits and pieces of your hair fall to the ground, you feel your cheeks getting wet and your shoulders tense, Satoru is quick to notice the switch of emotion and immediately turns the razor off before bending down in front of you, “Woah, woah… Y/N….”

“I-I…” Your lips are quivering as the tears fall faster when you see his pretty eyes staring back at yours, you try to let out a laugh but instead it comes out as a choke sob, “Sorry, this is stupid. I’m literally crying over fucking hair.”

“No, of course not…” He replies, enveloping you in a hug, “Of course not.”

Satoru feels you start to shake in his arms and he knows he should keep his emotions in check, he’s a sorcerer for crying out loud but seeing you break down for the first time in three months had him shaking too, you didn’t deserve all this, fuck, you didn’t deserve any of this at all!

“Would you like me to shave my hair so you’d feel a bit better?” he asks. After recovering from your breakdown, you had asked him to continue shaving your hair because you might as well be done with it.

“Please don’t.” You reply, wiping your tears away, “We’d look like eggs.”

“Cute eggs, you mean.” He corrects, teasing you and trying to cheer you up, this was all he could do and he hates it. 

He really hates it.

What good was the title of being the strongest when he couldn’t save you from all of this?

Lastly, if you hadn’t highlighted it enough. He has pretty eyes, contrasting to your dull and boring ones, you always loved how different his eyes are. Sometimes you wondered why he dared to hide them behind his crappy and overused Lennon shades.

“Can I see them?” 

Your room is dimly lit as Satoru sleeps next to you on the hospital bed, you were growing weaker and frailer by the day and you could see the toll it took on your soulmate. You were heavily reminded of your father who was sitting right next to your mother on her deathbed.

“See what?” He yawned.

“Your eyes.”

“You’re awfully in love with them, huh?” 

“I’ve always been in love with them from the moment I saw it in the mirror.”

Silence envelopes the room with your statement and as requested, he takes the shades off and now you’re greeted by the most beautiful blue eyes that you love to look at in the reflection since you were a child, “Pretty.” You muttered, raising your frail hands slowly to cup his face, “Pretty eyes.”

Satoru takes in a deep breath as he places his hand on top of yours, the silence is heavy. You both know what’s about to come in the next few days, you’re lucky if you even last a night. Yet he doesn’t want to talk about it, he shuts the topic off quickly when you try to even raise it.

“Yeah.” he mumbles, staring at you, “Pretty.”

You let out a quiet laugh, “I doubt it, I’m anything but pretty now.” your voice hoarse, making him lightly squeeze your hands, “Will you be bringing Megumi tomorrow?”

“Yeah, the brat said he saved enough money to get you your favorite pastry.”

“That’s good.” you blinked, “I’m tired.”

Satoru feels his shoulder tense at your words, they were so plain yet at the same time so heavy, “Should I call the doctor?” he asks. You shake your head and just snuggle on his chest.

“No,” You mumbled, inhaling his scent and basking on his presence, “I want your warmth next to me.”

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“You know, you’ve always had prettier eyes.”

Yet you don’t reply and he feels your grip on his sweater lessen, he doesn’t even need to see his reflection to know that his left eye has returned back to your (e/c) ones.

taglist [if crossed out, it means you aren’t available for tags!]

@airybnb​ ;  @hcn421​ ;  @shinhiromi​

[ectonurites]

Can’t believe beefy punk hunk Kon is right there and Bernard was Tim’s mlm awakening smh

See on the one hand i’m with you there because oh my god look at Kon

but on the other I also entirely get it because when you look at how this mlm awakening happened, a big part of it had to do with Bernard making the first ‘move’ so to speak, which made Tim realize this kind of thing was what he wanted

(Batman: Urban Legends #6)

Like, even though he was having feelings for Bernard before that moment (from literally the second Tim sees him again after all this time)

(Batman: Urban Legends #4)

He’d been in this weird place where he was so unsure about and intimidated by whatever’s going on in his head (figuring out really what he wants and who he is) that he didn’t know how to approach it, and instead just avoided it altogether

(Batman: Urban Legends #4)

Like imo it’s not even that he was quite in denial because I genuinely think it just hadn’t occurred to him that being attracted to men was really an option and the actual answer to this identity crisis… until Bernard casually indicates that he’s attracted to Tim and thought of their dinner as a date. That’s definitely the vibe the ‘lightbulb moment’ speech and the stuff right after gives to me

(Batman: Urban Legends #6)

But like, the thing is we know this was something he was already struggling with before he saw Bernard again. Tim & Steph broke up before that, and we now know Tim broke up with her kinda suddenly and didn’t even really know why himself, because he was having this internal crisis.

(Batman: Urban Legends #4)

(Batman: Urban Legends #6)

I’m not trying to say ‘Bernard could have been anyone here and it wouldn’t have made a difference’ because clearly Tim was having feelings for him specifically, but to a certain extent I feel like based on these circumstances… if a different guy that Tim had also waxed poetic in his brain about like this had expressed feelings for Tim while he was going through this period of trying to figure himself out, it could have just as easily sparked the lightbulb moment.

And well… there’s definitely been at least one other guy Tim’s had those kinds of could-be-romantic thoughts about.

(Detective Comics (2016) #967)

But Kon has never explicitly out loud indicated interest in Tim the way Bernard did, and so it just never clicked even if we want to consider romantic feelings/attraction to Kon as something underlying in the back of Tim’s brain, the ‘program waiting to be started’ if we use Tim’s own metaphor (which I mean. imo nearly 100 cloning attempts in a secret underground lab is kinda hard to write off as strictly platonic)

Bernard made his feelings clear and that let Tim realize being attracted to another guy was even an option for him. So I do totally understand how his mlm awakening could be something like this rather than an earlier situation with Conner.

[attllhak]

Wild Returns

Hey, so, the trailer for BotW 2 dropped...

And I was think like, everyone assumes Wild will get pulled away to do his second adventure and then return. And I saw the trailer and thought “Twilight is going to take one look at that arm and lose his mind.”

So I channelled all of my losing of my own mind into creativity. This was supposed to be cracky but then the boys decided feelings had to happen instead. Anyways, enjoy!

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

“So, rations again?”

Everyone in camp groaned.

It had been a few months since Wild had been called back to his own Hyrule for another adventure, and the entire group had been mourning the loss of his cooking since the moment he left.

They missed other things Wild brought to the table, of course they did, but the cooking was the thing that was most universally missed.

“I really want Wild back,” Wind groused as Warriors began counting out some of the dried military rations his Zelda had been kind enough to supply them with the last time they were in his Hyrule.

“Want me back for what?”

Twilight jumped and barely stopped his arm in time to avoid striking the source of the voice with his sword when it piped up near his feet.

He blinked stupidly for a long moment as he took in what he was looking at.

Wild, their missing friend and his protege, blinked back up at him. This would be fine, except only Wild’s head and shoulders were visible, and the rest of him was in the ground, a faint bit of mist-like green light swirling around the place where Wild and ground met.

“Cub?!” He finally managed after a long moment.

“Hey Twi!” Wild grinned, fully pulling himself out of the ground once Twilight stepped back and sheathed his sword.

A glance around said no one else knew how to deal with this development either.

Wild, looked different. His hair was down, and he only had a bit of fabric pulled over his scarred left shoulder in place of an actual shirt. The sandals definitely were new, and he looked vaguely like he’d just tied a sheet around himself to act as clothes.

Then he lifted his right arm to wave, and Twilight’s brain broke for a second.

What happened to his arm was that recent or not why is it glowing what happened to his real arm why does he have a new arm

“Cub, your arm,” was all he managed to get out through the mess his thoughts had become.

He stepped forward hesitantly, reaching for Wild’s arm but pausing when he thought maybe Wild wouldn’t want him touching it. Wild reached out and wiggled it a bit, inviting him probably, and so Twilight stepped up and grabbed it.

Warm, smooth metal met his hands, and he could feel the pulsing of magic just below his fingers. Soft, rolling waves of gentle magic under metal, and what was clearly a mix of sheikah tech and something else made up the limb. Ignoring the ridges and metal and magic, it was a near perfect copy of Wild’s original arm. But it wasn’t Wild’s original arm, that much was obvious.

Wild had lost his arm.

A soft, flesh hand landed on his, and Twilight hadn’t realized he’d stopped breathing until Wild made a show of doing so when he looked up.

Twilight breathed in, tightening his grip on Wild’s new arm a bit in doing so, and did his best to swallow the wave of emotions rolling like thunder clouds in his chest.

“Cub,” he managed, his voice strangled and uncooperative.

“It’s not that big a deal, Twi,” Wild tried laughing it off, but sobered up when he must have realized Twilight was having a bit of an internal crisis. “I lost it early on, so I’ve had a lot of time adjusting to the new one. And this arm has so many cool new features! Like, I can phase through stuff now! You saw that just a minute ago. And it can use the runes just like the Sheikah Slate can, but there’s more to it all now. And it can shoot fire! Just like the fire rods Legend and Warriors have! And I can still feel things with it, somehow, so really it’s mostly just positives. I can barely tell it’s not the original sometimes,”

Twilight swallowed again, breathing harshly through his nose and glancing between Wild and his arm. He gently turned the arm over in his hands, trying to wrap his head around it being there, before his thumbs finally came to rest in Wild’s palm.

He opened his mouth to say something, but everything got stuck in his throat, and he had to close his mouth to swallow again, like the words that wouldn’t come would choke him otherwise.

“No using your new powers to scare us,” Time said, the first of the group to speak. “We don’t need to stab you because someone thought you were a floormaster or something,”

Wild shot him a thumbs up with his free hand. “No phasing close enough to be stabbed, got it,”

Time sighed, well aware Wild misinterpreted what he said, but not feeling like fighting him on it.

“Can you cook for us?” Wind asked, glancing between Wild and the rations Warriors still had out but had stopped splitting up. Warriors was also looking at Wild hopefully.

“Sure,” Wild shrugged. “I’ve actually kind of missed cooking for you guys,”

That elicited a cheer, and Wild carefully pulled his hand from Twilight’s fingers in order to take his place at the cookpot.

Twilight spent all of dinner (goddesses, he’d missed Wild’s cooking so badly) doing his best not to stare at Wild’s arm. His best evidently wasn’t good enough, if the look he got from Time was any indication.

He offered to take the first watch when things winded down, well after Wind had talked Wild into telling them about what he’d been doing while away for so long. No one argued with him, and they shuffled around just a bit to let Wild set up his own bedroll.

He specifically decided not to think about how Wild set up right next to his own.

Twilight was glad this was Four’s era. There wasn’t a lot to worry about in the forest here, which worked well with the fact that Twilight was doing a crappy job of keeping watch.

His mind kept pulling back to Wild’s arm. What happened? Why did he lose it? Was it because he wasn’t prepared enough? Had Twilight not passed on enough of his own skills that Wild could have prevented this? What if he’d been there, like on Wild’s first adventure? Could he have prevented this? What if-

“There wasn’t any way to avoid it,”

Twilight’s head snapped up, twisting to look at where Wild was curled up on his side, wide awake and flexing the fingers on his prosthetic arm, watching the digits move.

“Wild, what,” Twilight trailed off.

“You're thinking about my arm,” Wild said, like he knew. Twilight privately hoped ‘mind reading’ wasn’t on the list of Wild’s new abilities. “You’re feeling guilty about it,”

“I’m not,” Twilight tried to argue, but stopped when he realized how much even he didn’t believe himself.

“It’s okay,” Wild said, setting his arm down on his pillow, finally twisting to look at Twilight somewhat. “I figured you would. But there wasn’t anything you could have done,”

“Cub,” Twilight faltered, face screwed up as he fought internally about arguing that point.

Wild sat up then, looking at Twilight head on. “Twi, you couldn’t have saved my arm. I couldn’t, Zelda couldn’t, no one could. It didn’t matter how prepared I was, or who was with me. I would have lost it anyways. There wasn’t a way to avoid it,”

Twilight looked away, eyes on the fire that he’d neglected so far. He threw another log on, waiting for it to catch before adding another.

“You’re sure?” He asked, probably right when Wild had decided he wouldn’t answer. He ignored how small and unsure he sounded.

“Unless you have a cure for pure Malice,” Wild shrugged. “Yeah, I’m sure,”

Twilight nodded, watching the fire crack.

When he crawled into his own bedroll after waking up Legend for second watch, he wasn’t surprised to find Wild still awake. He was a bit surprised by Wild basically insisting they shared a bedroll by reaching out to cuddle into him, but he didn’t object. He just wrapped an arm around Wild’s torso, pulled him close, and tried his very, very best to ignore the soft whispers and hums from the magic in Wild’s arm.

Twilight struggled with guilt over Wild’s arm for a few days, even as Wild continued to assure him it was fine.

Everyone was pleased by the return of Wild’s cooking, and for the levity he added to the group. Even Twilight couldn’t complain.

Well, he could actually. And did.

Whichever goddess decided it was a good idea to let his already chaotic protege be able to ignore walls was going to get an earful from him eventually.

[theseerasures]

watch Winter not even be in the elevator with Marrow watch her have covered her ass that he "escaped" from her god why is she LIKE THIS why are we seeing Winter at her absolute best right before we're going to see her at her absolute worst—

GOD okay look

there’s this common sensical thing that people say sometimes, that in moments of crisis you find out who people REALLY are, and i’ve always thought it was bullshit for the same reason i’ve always thought “being drunk reveals who you are” is bullshit, which is that “who you really are” encompasses all of you, and not just whatever uninhibited survival lizard brain emerges in specific situations

but i do think it’s a fabulous tool for fiction, because (most) fiction relies on consistent characterization, so moments of crisis CAN be a precise distillation of All That You Are, in a way that’s contiguous to who you were before. this season has been nothing but one crisis after another, and accordingly we’ve learned who these people are when pushed to their limit. Ironwood is a perfect example of this, but Ruby’s another great one, because what we’ve learned about her is what we’ve always suspected about her: that there comes a time when even her boundless compassion and idealism run dry, so that moments of Ruby at her best--vaporizing the Hound, saving Penny--are interspersed with moments of Ruby at her worst, which are basically...just an overwhelmed seventeen year old girl still grieving for her mother.

and what this season has shown about Winter, who has been in the (literal!) trenches of the crisis, is that Winter is remarkably consistent.

i don’t just mean consistent DURING crisis, the way that her boss has been consistently awful. i mean that you can draw a line for Winter that extends through the current war with Salem, through her outburst at the dinner table, through “you stole an Atlas airship,” all the way to when we first met her, and she almost immediately got into a fight with Qrow. what we’ve learned about Winter through all of this is that though she tries (poorly) to mask it, though she has learned to sometimes use it to her advantage, she is never not the precise distillation of All That She Is, at that exact volume.

Winter’s mind is always in crisis; she spends her entire life anticipating where the next blow will fall--whether on herself, or on someone else. i’ve already waxed poetic on this elsewhere, so i won’t belabor it too much, but. the point is this: i don’t think it’s so much an issue of “Winter’s at her absolute best, therefore she will be at her worst later,” as it is “Winter is always at the same extreme,” which means Winter’s absolute best is never not her absolute worst at the exact same time.

don’t get me wrong: there is a certain euphoria in seeing Winter act in the way she does in Risk. she IS the best of herself there. best in the way James Ironwood defined it when he first took her on as his protege and bodyguard, because she acts quickly and decisively, while even the AceOps are still frozen. but she’s also best in the radically compassionate way that perfectly aligns with the show’s moral thesis, which is why all of us still root for her, even now: Winter does not actually believe in leaving people behind. not absolutely, and not forever. (and we’ve always known this, because we only meet her through Weiss.) i joke about her compulsively imprinting on anyone younger than her, but i think that if it had been Elm, Vine, or even Harriet in Marrow’s position Winter would have done the exact same thing. that’s just what Winter does, and Winter is never not turning her entire identity into a verb.

Winter is at her best here because she achieved a good outcome, the one she was aiming for. but Winter is also at her worst here, in the same way that she has CONSISTENTLY been throughout the show, which is that Winter refuses to take responsibility for anything outside of the immediate instance, and when she does save people, it’s only in a way that does not disturb the status quo. it’s telling that she saved Marrow’s life by attacking Marrow--Marrow, when she could have attacked Ironwood instead--knocked the gun out of his hand, knocked him to the ground, tossed him to the brig, called off the bomb...

but she couldn’t have, really. not only because some part of her still loves James Ironwood, but also because while everyone was looking at Marrow, while no one was looking at her, Winter was triaging the way she always does. and the conclusion she reached is the one she always reaches, which is: she can’t rely on anyone else. certainly not in this situation, when Marrow is the one who NEEDS help, when Elm and Vine stood by and watched as Ironwood raged, when Harriet was the one who turned his ire on her in the first place, when they are all her subordinates, and so--she is alone. and, the part of her that’s still the child in the Manor says, she can’t win this. she can’t do anything.

Maria once told Ruby: you don’t give yourself enough credit, and: that wasn’t a compliment. the same, i think, holds true for Winter, but the difference is that Ruby still tries in big ways, even when she can’t acknowledge the fruits of her labor, while Winter...Winter had the trying beaten out of her a long time ago. that’s why she saved Marrow’s life in that way, and that’s why the coin of what Winter is gonna do after still feels like it’s flipping in the air. maybe she isn’t in the elevator because of what you said! maybe she is, but because she was GENUINELY going to put Marrow in the brig, because at least there he’d be safe. maybe they’re both there and ready to defect. maybe neither of them are on the elevator at all.

predicting what’s gonna happen next this season is as always a ludicrous venture, but (*puts on my jester’s hat in preparation for being wrong*): much as i’m loathe to ruin everyone’s excitement over team BRAS, i don’t think Winter is leaving Atlas Command. that’s the whole point of doing what she did; she’s evacuating the boat, not rocking it. that’s what she’s always done: we’ll drop you off as close as we can to the monster. i’m giving you a head start. a head start so no one will catch them, but also a head start so that she can remain behind, watch their backs. women and children first. everyone else first, including--even now--the man she wishes was her father. and only then herself.

and when it comes to Winter in the end, likely more alone than we’ve ever seen her...we are going to see the worst of her, but only because we always do. it’ll look less like a Final Choice, and more like the non-choices she’s been making coming home to roost. sooner or later Ironwood will realize that part of the reason he’s running out of pieces to play is because of her, and sooner or later Winter will realize that at some point you’re not leaving me has turned into i’m not leaving.

it turns out when you make enough non-choices, they slip into choices anyway. and Winter has only ever made one kind of non-choice, an infinitesimal sidestep to avoid disturbing the universe, so the outcome of these things depend entirely on the context. the outcomes so far have been favorable, so it’s possible (probable?) that, like with Ironwood last season, we’re due for a reversal. at the same time, though, Ultimatum introduces the obvious wrinkle: that an outcome good for the world isn’t necessarily good for Winter. it’s possible that that will hold true again for her in the end.

or it’s possible that the reverse will be true instead.

[the-desolated-quill]

WandaVision: ‘Subverting’ Good Television - Quill’s Scribbles

(Spoilers for the first five episodes)

Hey everyone! Well... it’s been a while, hasn’t it? The last time I wrote a proper review or Scribble, people still thought the COVID crisis would be over within a month. The poor saps. But I thought that as a special way to mark this year’s Valentines Day, we could take a closer look at the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s shittiest power couple in their new Disney+ show WandaVision.

The first of many MCU spin-off shows that nobody asked for, broadcast exclusively on Disney’s totally unnecessary streaming platform, WandaVision is about everybody’s favourite whitewashed Nazi experiment and her red sexbot boyfriend as they try to fit into a suburban sitcom neighbourhood without arousing suspicion.

Yes, you read that correctly. The MCU has a sitcom now. My life is now complete.

Sarcasm aside, I was legitimately curious about WandaVision because of its unusual setting. And considering one of my most common criticisms of the MCU is its total lack of creativity, anything that’s even a little bit subversive is bound to attract my attention. Of course ‘subversive’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘good.’ I could hand you a canvas smeared with my own shit and call it subversive. That doesn’t necessarily make it good art. And that’s exactly what WandaVision is. A canvas smeared with shit.

So lets split this critical analysis/review/angry bitter rant into two distinct chapters. The first focusing on the plot and setting, and the second focusing on the characters. Okay? Okay.

Chapter 1: Bewitched

Critics seem to be utterly enamoured with the whole sitcom gimmick, and it is a gimmick. As far as I can tell from the episodes I’ve seen, the sitcom setting serves no real purpose whatsoever other than to make the show ‘quirky.’ Which I wouldn’t mind, believe it or not, if the show was actually funny. There’s just one problem. It’s not.

Now in some ways describing why a sitcom doesn’t work is often futile because comedy is largely subjective. What I find funny, you won’t necessarily find funny and vice versa. With WandaVision, however, I won’t have that problem. I can demonstrate to you precisely why WandaVision, objectively, isn’t funny. And it all comes down to one simple thing. The stakes. Or rather the complete and total absence of stakes.

The show makes it very clear from the beginning that none of what we’re seeing is real. The cheesy theme song, the era appropriate special effects (mostly. It’s actually very inconsistent), the joke commercials, and, in the case of the first two episodes, which are in black and white, the appearance of red lights and objects in Scarlet Witch’s general vicinity. (Gee, what a mystery this is).

Basically Wanda has brought Vision back from the dead and created this sitcom world for them to inhabit. I’ll explain the stupidity of this in Chapter 2. The point is none of this is real, and that has a negative effect on the comedy because the very nature of comedy is suffering. Take the plot of the first episode. Wanda and Vision have to prepare a dinner to impress Vision’s boss. If they fail, Vision could lose his job and the couple could be exposed as superheroes. If this were a normal sitcom, it would work. The stakes are clear and it would be satisfying to see the two struggle and overcome the odds. But here, we know it’s not real. If it’s not real, it means there’s no stakes. If there’s no stakes, it means there’s no suffering. If there’s no suffering, there’s no comedy.

It would be one thing if the unfunny sitcom stuff lasted for like the first ten minutes or so before making way for the actual plot, but it doesn’t. Oh no. It doesn’t even last for the first episode. Out of the five episodes I’ve watched, four of them are almost entirely about these unfunny, objectively flawed sitcom homages, each set in a different time period. The fifties, the sixties, and so on. And what’s worse is that nothing that happens in them is plot-relevant. That gets relegated to the last five minutes of an episode. So you’re forced to sit through twenty five minutes of boring slapstick and puns in order to catch even a whiff of actual story. Which begs the question... who is this for exactly? It can’t be entertaining to Marvel fans, who have to slog through all this pointless shit so they can figure out what the fuck is going on. Comedy fans may get a kick out of the sitcom pastiche at first, but after four episodes, surely the joke would wear thin. So why is it in here? Clearly someone in the writer’s room absolutely fell in love with the idea of doing a Marvel sitcom, but nobody put in any time or effort to figure out how it would work in context.

I cannot stress enough how bad the plotting of this series is. As I said, the vast majority of a thirty minute episode is about shitty sitcom plots that aren’t funny and don’t have any impact on the story, only to then tease you with a crumb of actual plot in order to keep you coming back for the next instalment. Admittedly it’s an effective strategy. I was more than ready to quit after Episode 2 until that beekeeper showed up out of the sewer (don’t ask. It’s not important). WandaVision essentially follows the Steven Moffat school of bad writing. String your audience along with the promise that things might get more interesting later on and that all the bullshit that came before will retroactively make sense by the end. Except, as demonstrated with BBC’s Sherlock, that doesn’t work. And even if it did, it wouldn’t justify wasting the audience’s fucking time. And that’s what the majority of WandaVision is. A waste of time.

The only episode that doesn’t follow the sitcom format is the fourth episode. Instead it basically exists to explain all the shit that happened before. The shit that the audience, frankly, are smart enough to figure out for themselves. Wanda created the sitcom world as a way of coping with the loss of Vision, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, we got it. Thanks. It doesn’t advance the plot or anything. It’s just a massive info-dump. But by far the lowest point was when Darcy (by far the most annoying character in the first Thor film and is just as obnoxious here) was sat in front of the TV, watching the sitcom and asking the same questions we were. Not even attempting to look for answers. Just reiterating what the audience is thinking. Like this is an episode of fucking Gogglebox.

In the end it becomes apparent why the series is structured the way that it is. It’s to hoodwink people into subscribing to Disney’s stupid streaming service. If you think about it, there was no reason for WandaVision to be a TV series other than to lure gullible fans in with a piece-meal story buried in a mountain of crap. This isn’t a TV show. It’s what is cynically known in the world of big business executives as ‘content.’ They’re not interested in entertaining the audience. Instead they crave ‘engagement’, which isn’t the same thing. Watching WandaVision is like staring into the void, waiting for something to happen, while Disney charge you for the privilege.

Chapter 2: I Love Lucy

So the plot sucks balls. What about the characters? Surely if Wanda and Vision are likeable at least, it’ll give us something to cling onto.

Well as I was watching the first episode, it suddenly hit me that I couldn’t remember anything that happened to them in previous films. I knew Vision died, but other than that, I couldn’t tell you significant plot details or their personalities or anything. Not a great start.

See, up until now, Vision and Scarlet Witch have been little more than background characters. So already there’s an uphill struggle to get us invested in their relationship, especially considering we haven’t actually seen that relationship develop. In Avengers: Age Of Ultron, Scarlet Witch is killing people because she’s pissed off about Tony Stark killing people (you work that one out) until all of a sudden she stops and joins the good guys because the script said so. Vision meanwhile is introduced as a convenient deus ex machina to beat Ultron and gets no real personality other than he’s a robot. Captain America: Civil War comes the closest to giving Wanda a story and personality of her own as it’s her actions that cause the Sokovia Accords to come into effect, but she never gets any real growth or payoff as the film is heavily focused on Cap and Iron Man’s penis measuring contest. And as for Vision, all he does in the film is accidentally cripple War Machine. No real character or arc there as such. And then we have Avengers: Infinity War, where Wanda and Vision are now sporadically in love and on the run until that pesky Josh Brolin, looking like a CGI cross between Joss Whedon and a grumpy grape, comes along and rips out Vision’s Infinity Stone to power up his golden glove of doom, and the film treats this like a tragic moment, except... it isn’t. Because we haven’t really had the time to properly get to know these characters and see their romance blossom. So instead it just comes off as hollow and forced.

WandaVision has the exact same problem. Apparently Wanda was so distraught about Vision’s death that she broke into a SWORD base, stole his corpse, brought it back from the dead... somehow, and then enslaved an entire town of people to create an idyllic lifestyle for her and her hubby while broadcasting it as a sitcom to the outside world... for some reason. Putting aside the dubious morality of it all, it’s impossible to really sympathise with Wanda or her supposed grief because we’ve barely spent any time with her. Had the Marvel movies taken the time to properly explore the characters and show us their relationship grow and develop, this might have had more emotional resonance. But no, it just happens. In one film they barely speak to each other and in the next they’re a couple. No effort to explore how they feel about each other or any of the problems that may arise trying to date a robot. It just happens and we’re just supposed to care. Well I’m sorry, but I don’t care. You’re going to have to try a little bit harder than that I’m afraid. What’s worse is that, thanks to the whole fake sitcom thing, it’s impossible to really become invested in Wanda and her plight because the show has to constantly keep us at arms length at all times in order to keep up the pretence that this bullshit is somehow mysterious.

Looking through the WandaVision tag, it amuses me how many people say that she’s acting out of character. And yeah, her actions are a bit of a head scratcher. Why would an Eastern European’s ideal life be an American sitcom? Why a sitcom? Why kidnap an entire town? Why keep changing the decade? None of it makes sense, but you’re wrong for thinking that Wanda is behaving out of character for the simple reason that Wanda has never actually had a character. In fact, ironically, Wanda mind controlling an entire town and forcing them to do her bidding is probably the one consistent thing about her as she did this in Age Of Ultron. In interviews, Elizabeth Olsen and Paul Bettany described how they used actors like Elizabeth Montgomery and Dick Van Dyke as influences, which is really funny because they’re straight up admitting they don’t have characters and even now they’re still not playing the characters, instead emulating the work of far better actors.

As I was watching the show, it became abundantly clear that not only do Marvel not have the faintest idea what they wanted to do with these characters, but they also straight up don’t give a shit about these characters. Wanda in particular has had a rough time under the tyrannical regime of the House of Mouse. First they cast Elizabeth Olsen, a white woman, to play a Romani character, then systematically erasing her Jewish roots, even going so far as to put a cross in her bedroom in Civil War, and now the character is being butchered even more by forcing her into an American sitcom housewife role that she apparently willingly chose for herself, which is laughable. I mean say what you like about Magneto in the X-Men films, at least they actually depicted his Jewish culture. At least they recognised his Jewish background was important (though not important enough to cast a Jewish actor apparently). Wanda’s steady cultural erasure over the years is incredibly insidious and judging by Olsen’s comments in interviews, where she called Wanda’s comic book outfit a quote ‘gypsy thing’ unquote, it seems nobody has an ounce of fucking respect for the character or the culture she’s supposed to be representing. (and to all those kissing her arse saying it was a slip of the tongue, she has been repeatedly called out for using the slur in the past, so at this point I’d describe her behaviour as wilful ignorance)

If you want further proof of how much Marvel doesn’t seem to care about Wanda, look no further than her brother Pietro, aka Quicksilver. At the end of Episode 5, Wanda brings Pietro back from the dead, except it’s not Pietro. It’s Peter Maximoff, the Quicksilver from the X-Men films played by Peter Evans, who coincidentally is not Jewish or Romani either. So Quicksilver has the dubious honour of not only being whitewashed three times, but also twice within the same franchise. But should we really be surprised at this point? It’s Marvel after all. The same company that whitewashed the Ancient One in Doctor Yellowface and claimed it wasn’t racist because Tilda Swinton is ‘Celtic’. But now I’m going off topic. My point is that this isn’t a simple case of recasting an actor like Mark Ruffalo replacing Edward Norton as the Hulk. WandaVision actually acknowledges the recast in-universe, which makes no sense. Why would Wanda bring back her brother, only to make him look like a different person? We the audience may be familiar with this version of Quicksilver, but she isn’t. That would be like me bringing my Grandad back to life and making him look like Ian McKellen. He’d be perfectly charming, I’m sure, but he wouldn’t be my Grandad. 

If Marvel really cared about the characters or narrative consistency, they would have brought Aaron Taylor Johnson back. Instead, now they have absorbed 20th Century Fox into the hellish Disney abyss, they use X-Men’s Quicksilver as a means to keep viewers from switching off and so that people will write stupid articles and think pieces about whether the rest of the X-Men will show up in the MCU. It’s like dangling your keys in front of a toddler’s face to distract them from the rotting corpse of a raccoon lying face down in the corner of the room.

And it’s here where I decided to stop watching the show because fuck Disney.

Epilogue: One Foot In The Grave

You know, I am sick and tired of the so called ‘professional’ critics bending over backwards to praise these god awful films and shows when it’s so clear to anyone with a functioning brain cell how bad they truly are. WandaVision is without a doubt one of the most cynically produced and poorly structured TV shows I’ve ever seen. Its riffs on classic sitcoms are pointless and self-indulgent, the writing is terrible, the characters are unlikable and unsympathetic, and it’s entirely emblematic of what the entire MCU has become of late. And it’s only going to get worse as Disney drowns us with more ‘content’ to keep the plebs ‘engaged’. In short; pathetic.

[dahlia-coccinea]

A few thoughts on Nelly and the 1st and 2nd generations in Wuthering Heights...I recently read Graeme Tytler’s essay, ‘The Presentation of Two Housekeeps’ and it made me consider a few parallels between Zillah and Nelly, and specifically their treatment of Catherine Earnshaw and Catherine Linton. While Nelly, Zillah, and the other housekeeper, are each unique characters, there are some interesting similarities and repetitions. Particularly between Zillah and Nelly - they both tend to see Catherine and Cathy as proud and remote, they neglect and diminish their feelings, and can be defensively snobbish in their interactions. I’ve mentioned before on different occasions how Nelly’s biases are most apparent in how she will leap to the defense of Cathy II, Hareton, and even Hindley and Linton at times, yet she seemingly cannot forgive similar faults in Catherine Earnshaw. Catherine and her daughter clearly have many of the same faults, and I’ve also mentioned how Isabella and Catherine have some similarities and with that have some similar faults, yet Nelly still believes Cathy to be good-hearted and Isabella to be a fine gentlewoman. Zillah and her unnamed predecessor are similarly biased against Cathy II, Hareton, and Linton though, I think their animosity is most apparent towards Cathy. They find her proud, demanding, and not worth their time. There are a few interesting similarities which I will quickly run through.

 First, in Tytler’s essay, he mentions:

 “...she (the unnamed housekeeper at the Heights) clearly regards the boy (Linton) as a sort of ‘spoilt brat’ instead of seeing him as someone who is in a loveless household is trying to cope with the symptoms of what will eventually prove to be a fatal disease.”

Though this is about Linton and not Cathy II, this does parallel how Nelly treats Catherine (then still only 15 years old) during her illness after Heathcliff runs away, in which Nelly even admits, “I cannot say I made a gentle nurse, and Joseph and the master were no better.” Both housekeepers take a negative view of their “spoiled” charges and disregard their feelings and illnesses.

Another similarity is the hostility and violence of the house; Hindley’s sadism certainly rivals Heathcliff’s. Heathcliff’s toxicity seems almost tame when remembering the scene of Hindley trying to shove a knife down Nelly's throat. (Also, wonder where Heathcliff might have learned his sadism??) Before the scene of Hindley dropping his son, Hareton, off the second floor Nelly says:

“I went to hide little Hareton, and to take the shot out of the master’s fowling-piece, which he was fond of playing with in his insane excitement, to the hazard of the lives of any who provoked, or even attracted his notice too much; and I had hit upon the plan of removing it, that he might do less mischief if he did go the length of firing the gun.”

We never get a clear example of Hindley’s worst treatment of Catherine compared to his actions towards Heathcliff, but I can’t imagine she escaped his ill moods. After Heathcliff runs away, Hindley finds Catherine distraught and he threatens to throw Heathcliff out if he finds out that they were spending time together and he tells her “after he’s gone, I’d advise you all to look sharp: I shall only have the more humour for you.” Catherine then declares that if he does throw out Heathcliff she’ll go with him and then, “Hindley lavished on her a torrent of scornful abuse, and bade her get to her room immediately, or she shouldn’t cry for nothing!” Yet Nelly imparts so much judgment on Catherine for using Hindley’s desire to see her marry or her illness after Heathcliff leaves, as leverage. I personally don’t blame Catherine one bit. 

During times of emotional crisis for the two Catherines, both Zillah and Nelly show a lack of sympathy. When Heathcliff leaves Nelly compares her crying to that of a child’s and despite her own senses telling her something is amiss she tells Catherine “What a noise for nothing!” and “What a trifle scares you!” Similarly when Cathy wakes Zillah to tell her to fetch a doctor and that Linton is dying Zillah believes she is overreacting and is “mistaken” and decides to wait a “quarter of an hour” until she is woken again by Cathy who was correct in her original fear. 

To be fair to Nelly there are times she yields to compassion, such as when Heathcliff and Catherine run away and she decides she will let them in despite Hindley’s orders not to do so. Or when Heathcliff had been beaten and locked in the garret she, “intended by no means to encourage their tricks: but as the prisoner had never broken his fast since yesterday’s dinner, (she) would wink at his cheating Mr. Hindley that once.”

Another parallel between mother and daughter and the housekeepers is their perceived egos. Zillah says of Cathy, “I should love well to bring her pride a peg lower.” I can’t help but find this eerily similar to Nelly’s opinion on Catherine Earnshaw when she tells Lockwood:

“I’ve had many a laugh at her perplexities and untold troubles, which she vainly strove to hide from my mockery. That sounds ill-natured: but she was so proud it became really impossible to pity her distresses, till she should be chastened into more humility.”

Nelly also says of Catherine upon her return from Thrushcross Grange: “Our young lady returned to us saucier and more passionate, and haughtier than ever” and says “she esteemed herself a woman, and our mistress.” Catherine Earnshaw's insistence of her maturity and womanhood is similar to her daughter's speech to Nelly many years later: 

“The Grange is not a prison, Ellen, and you are not my gaoler. And besides, I’m almost seventeen: I’m a woman. And I’m certain Linton would recover quickly if he had me to look after him. I’m older than he is, you know, and wiser: less childish, am I not?"

Zillah mentions to Nelly her opinions of young Cathy after her marriage to Linton, and notes her perceived snobbery, and says she, ‘would have been rather more friendly, but her attempts at increasing kindness were proudly and promptly repelled.’ These feelings are mentioned again when Cathy leaves her room at the Heights, a fortnight after Linton’s death and Nelly relates to Lockwood that Zillah complains Cathy, ‘turned up her nose at my civility, as Zillah puts it, namely that of offering ‘my seat in the arm-chair.’ Zillah says “in spite of her pride, she was forced to condescend to our company, more and more.” Similarly, Catherine and Nelly's relationship have similar problems - after Heathcliff leaves Nelly says at one point she tells Catherine it is her fault that he left and, “From that period, for several months, she ceased to hold any communication with me, save in the relation of a mere servant.” 

I think I may be forgetting some other scenes...and I’m interested to see how my ideas change when I reread the book next month. In conclusion, Zillah's complaints about Catherine Linton are very reminiscent of Nelly’s feelings towards Catherine Earnshaw. There are multiple times where both housekeepers display an utter lack of sympathy and they struggle to understand them and their emotional needs. Like I mentioned earlier, I don’t think Nelly, Zillah, and the other housekeeper are the same characters, but they help create parallels between the characters and the plots of the two generations. I think these examples also cast doubt on Nelly’s already questioned reliability as a narrator.