#its not like we want you to buy anything!

[allowmetohityouwithmyreblog]

WHY DOES THE US GET THE ARGUABLY LESS STYLIZED STUFF??

I’d say our stuff is worse, but I don’t want to insult the artist, since the art is great, but what they’re being told to create is what hurts. I don’t get excited to see the covers, and I feel like less kids are likely to pick them up the way I did. My library as a child had a combination of the old and new covers, and I didn’t even realize it was the same book series- I grabbed the older book, with the more cartoony and stylized realistic cats. I don’t think the franchise realizes that the covers could be collectors items too, especially when they’re trying so hard to get people to buy merch. That’s built in merch!! If you make the covers interesting enough, you can sell them as posters and book marks and all the other fancy stuff you can photoshop a photo onto. And people would eat it up if it were anything like this! …I just don’t want a 455th book cover that gives no context to the actual contents of the books, with inaccurately colored cats, that’s a headshot of one character. I’m tempted to buy a few of the foreign books for their art and such.

I know that this original post isn’t about the covers, but The only merch we have like that is our comic books, the old ones, (which I won’t put down as I really enjoyed the style as a kid even though it definitely has its flaws), And the new ones, which are arguably the best stylized ‘’merch’’ of the warriors series you can get in English. And people are eating it up! There are so many video essays and reviews and stuff just absolutely loving on this new comic book line. I hope they realize what a huge market for stylization they have, in all of their audiences.

scourge from the official chinese warriors magazine

[kitkatscabinet]

LANGUAGES OF LOVE

Summary: The ways they express their love.

Pairings: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan x gn! reader.

DICK GRAYSON: Words of affirmation

His communication skills may have suffered after a decade at Bruce's side, but the one thing he'll never fail to convey verbally is just how much he loves you.

Showers you with praises, pet names, and affirmations at every opportunity possible. You do something as simple as making him toast for breakfast that's slightly burnt? You're the light of his life, his honey pie, the greatest gift to mankind.

Will even loudly proclaim how much he loves you in front of his siblings during the family events you drag him into, much to their dismay.

JASON TODD: Acts of service

Unlike his older brother, Jason struggles to articulate his thoughts. Expressing his affection doesn't come easily, verbally and sometimes even physically he's not the best.

Has a bit of an angsty breakdown after you've been dating for a few months, tries to tell you that you deserve better, someone that can love you properly.

You know you shouldn't laugh, he's genuinely distressed but you're quick to reassure him that you know just how much he loves you. Cue the shocked pikachu face.

He buys the groceries, does the laundry, hell, he even arranges your plushies on the bed the way you like even when they take up his space. If it were up to Jason you'd never have to do anything but sit there and look pretty for him.

TIM DRAKE: Quality time

Tim's a busy man. Between vigilante life, the Young Justice Team, his family, and Wayne Enterprises, he barely has time to breathe, let alone for a significant other.

Despite this, you spend an exorbitant amount of time together. So much that even Dick thinks Tim needs to start spending some time alone. Tim thinks being away from you for even a second might kill him.

Literally has an allocated slot in his calendar/timetable entirely dedicated to spending time with you.

You two are the body-doubling template. You spend so much time together while also being separate that when Tim's working on a case, he'll automatically turn to look at you or ask your opinion even when you're not there.

BRUCE WAYNE: Gift giving

King of emotional incompetence. Spends his life throwing his money at people and problems that it definitely transfers to romantic relationships.

Early on this will be extravagant jewellery, dresses, anything you even look at slightly appreciatively for more than three seconds its yours. Hell, he bought you a kitten within the first few weeks of knowing you because of your reaction to an instagram reel.

It's shallow yes, but he doesn't really know any other way to be. Once you explain to him that you'll love him even if he doesn't spend millions on you he's still big on gifts because you absolutely deserve it.

As the months pass and he realises how much he loves you the gifts become more sentimental. Less throwing cash at you and more homemade family photo albums of you and the boys, your favourite flowers once a week, materials for whatever new hobbies you want to take up.

BONUS! HAL JORDAN: physical touch

We all knew this one was coming. Pretty much always needs to be touching you. There is no escape. Dread it, run from it, Hal's going to touch you.

Insists you sit on his lap when you watch movies together, always cuddling you when you're in bed, even when you protest that he's too hot. You give him a hand to hold as a compromise, only for you to wake up in a sweat hours later with him stuck to your back.

The type of guy who insists you wear pants/skirts with pockets on the butt so he can stick his hand in there.

"Hal, you're not gonna die if you're not groping my chest for like five seconds"

"You don't know that!"

Please just let him touch your tits, it's the quickest way to shut him up.

[binisainz]

lucky taps ⸻ 𐙚 ⸻ carlos sainz x reader

word  count.   2.8k feat.   established  relationship,  fluff,  semi-long  distance,  labubu  hate author's  note.   binisainz  finally  having  a  cs55  fic  up  ??  i  never  thought  i'd  live  to  see  the  day  !!  anyways,  this  is  based  on  this  photo  of  carlos  carrying  a  popmart  bag  in  shanghai  and  i  was  like.  ok  bet.  i  am  exposing  my  love  for  popmart  blind  box  figurines…  i  have  spent  too  much  on  these  mfs  so  i  might  as  well  make  a  fic  out  of  it  !!  dedicated  to  the  lovely  kae  ( @tsunodaradio  ) because  they  suggested  the  ending  and  i  was  like…  no  ure  right  …  ure  so  right  . anyway qotd what do u think carlos sainz is collecting check out the rest of my work !!

carlos comes home the same way he always does— keys clattering into the dish by the front door, a deep sigh like he’s clocking out of being carlos sainz and back into being just yours.

“mi amor?” his voice drifts in, laced with just the slightest bit of confusion.

“yes?” you don’t look up from your phone, lazily stretched out on the couch, one leg bent at the knee, fingers absently tapping at the screen.

you hear him step closer, the shift of his weight across the hardwood, the quiet pause that comes before— “why is there a little… scarecrow on the coffee table?”

that makes you glance up, just in time to see the small furrow in his brow, the way his mouth presses slightly at the corners. you shift, propping yourself up on your elbow to follow his gaze.

“that’s my hirono,” you say simply, as if that explains everything.

carlos blinks at you, then at the figurine, then back at you again. “your what?” he asks as he bends down, takes the figurine in his hands, turning it over carefully, examining the details. he treats it like something delicate, like maybe it’ll break if he looks at it too hard.

“hirono,” you repeat, dragging out the syllables, already predicting the conversation to come. “it’s a blind box figurine. you buy it without knowing which one you’re gonna get.”

his brows draw together, deeper this time, the gears in his head visibly turning. you can see the exact moment it clicks— there’s a small flash of realization, the barest twitch of his lips. “so you just… pay for it and hope you get the one you want?” he asks, skeptical.

you grin, shrugging. “pretty much.”

he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as he sets the figurine back down with the same measured care. “you could just buy the one you want,” he points out, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“where’s the fun in that?” you shoot back, sitting up fully now, tucking your legs beneath you. “it’s about the thrill. the suspense.”

he looks at you, the soft tilt of his head betraying the fact that he’s still trying to wrap his head around it. “so you like not knowing?”

you hum, considering. “more like… i like the moment before, you know? when it could be anything.”

carlos watches you for a beat longer, then shakes his head again, a small, affectionate smile tugging at his lips. “you are impossible,” he mutters, but there’s no real exasperation in his tone, only fondness. then, without hesitation, he leans down, cupping your jaw gently as he presses a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, as he’s done a thousand times before.

a few days later, you come home with two more boxes, setting them down on the kitchen counter with a flourish. carlos, sitting at the island with a half-eaten banana in one hand, eyes them with mild suspicion.

“again?”

you huff. “yes, again. but this time, you’re doing it with me.”

he chews slowly, watching you like you’ve just presented him with some grand experiment. then he swallows, licking a bit of banana off his thumb. “what am i supposed to do?”

“first,” you say, grabbing a box, turning it to its side where twelve colorful iterations of the same character are drawn, “we have to pick which ones we want.” you tap one illustration, and then the next. “i want the mantel clock or the circus one.”

he barely glances at the options before pointing decisively at the secret figurine.

you snort. “that one has, like, a one in a hundred forty-four chance.”

he shrugs. “so?”

so, nothing. he’s already made up his mind. and you know him— you know he’s stubborn enough to manifest his own luck, to tilt the universe in his favor through sheer force of will.

“okay, but now we have to do lucky taps,” you say, passing him his box.

his brows furrow. “what?”

you demonstrate, tapping your fingers rhythmically along the sides of your own box. “it’s for good luck. you have to do it.”

carlos stares at you for a moment, unimpressed, then down at his box. he exhales, then mimics your movement, albeit a little clumsily, his fingertips drumming against the cardboard. “this is silly.”

“yeah, but now you’re invested. committed, even.”

you grab your phone, setting it up to record. “okay, let’s do this.”

the sound of crinkling plastic fills the space as you both peel open your boxes. you pull yours out first. a tiny alien stares back at you. your face immediately drops.

“ugh,” you groan, sagging against the counter. “literally the only one i didn’t want.”

carlos makes a sound, half-laugh, half-smug amusement, as he inspects his own. you glance at him, then do a double-take.

he’s holding the secret figurine.

you jaw drops, eyes quickly darting from looking at him, at it, at him again. “are you kidding me?”

his expression shifts slowly into that familiar smugness, the kind that makes you want to shove him. he inspects the figurine like it’s some grand prize, turning it between his fingers, lips curving into a grin. “i thought this was supposed to be rare,” he says, all false innocence.

“it is,” you grumble, crossing your arms. “but of course you would get it.”

carlos sets his box down on the counter, hand reaching out to pull you closer. “mi amor,” he murmurs, his voice dipping just enough to make something curl in your stomach. his hands find your waist, fingers pressing lightly, teasing. “don’t be upset.”

“i’m not upset,” you huff, but you are pouting, and you know it, and he knows it, and he’s enjoying this far too much.

“you can have it,” he offers. “would that make you feel better?”

you exhale, slow, exaggerated. “it’s not as good as pulling it myself,” you admit, just a little petulant, but then you soften, leaning into him despite yourself. “…but okay.”

he laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple, and just like that, the loss doesn’t sting quite as much.

at first, it’s funny. cute, even. carlos, for all his teasing, starts showing a little too much interest in your blind boxes. it begins small—offhand questions here and there, the way he lingers just a second longer when you’re opening a new one, watching your reaction like he’s pretending not to care. but then it escalates.

he gets way too into it. concerningly into it.

it’s not long before you catch him scrolling through an online store at breakfast, staring at the thumbnail images of different collections with a furrowed brow like he’s analyzing race data. another time, you hear him mutter something about “box weight ratios” under his breath while holding one up at a shop.

the moment you call him out, he waves it off, says he’s just doing it for you. “you like them, no?” he says, kissing the side of your head like that’s the end of the conversation. “i just want you to get the ones you like.”

except, somehow, the ones you like aren’t the only ones he’s getting.

the 2025 season starts, and it doesn’t take long for fans to catch on. one race weekend, he’s photographed carrying a popmart bag in the hotel lobby. the next, someone spots him in the paddock, a tiny figurine peeking out from his backpack. the internet is quick— memes start to circulate, threads pop up analyzing every single one of his figurine choices. he keeps claiming it’s for you. he really does. but you know better.

“mi amor,” he complains one night, sprawled out on the hotel couch beside you, scrolling through a list of upcoming releases. it’s one of the rare times you join him for a grand prix. “all your hironos look the same.”

you gasp, smacking his arm. “excuse me?”

“they do,” he insists, grinning when you glare at him. “little hats, little sad faces… no difference.”

you roll your eyes. “okay, mister ‘i only buy these for you.’”

he huffs out a laugh, still very much pretending he’s doing this entirely out of love for you. but you bide your time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

and it comes, two weeks later, when he’s japan, and you’re on a late-night video call together. he’s lounging in his hotel room, hair still damp from a shower, dressed in one of his old team shirts. you’re curled up in bed, listening to him ramble about his day when something on his bedside table catches your attention.

a fucking labubu box.

your eyes narrow. “oh, so you say my hironos all look the same, but you like labubus now?”

carlos freezes, eyes darting to the box behind him like he forgot it was even there. then, without missing a beat, he leans forward, grabbing it and holding it up to the camera. “but, mi amor, look! they have different colors!”

“oh, and my hironos don’t?”

he shakes his head, clearly enjoying himself. “not like these, no.”

you let out an exaggerated, scandalized gasp, dramatically flopping back against your pillows. “i can’t believe this betrayal. all this time, i thought you were supporting me, but now you’ve chosen a side— and it’s the opposing side, mind you!”

carlos chuckles, setting the box back down, his voice dropping just slightly—playful, teasing. “you love me anyway.”

and, well. he’s right.

it turns into a thing. somehow.

your comments section floods with people asking for your favorite figurines, demanding to know which sets you’re into. you give them a list, thinking nothing of it, just casually mentioning your favorites. but by the next race weekend, fans are already showing up with those exact figurines, handing them to carlos at every turn. multiple people. at different times.

there’s a video you find later of him grinning, holding up one of the boxes, murmuring a— “thank you! mi corazón would love these…”

the last part, the way his voice drops into something softer, something warm, plays on loop in your head as you scroll through tiktok later that night. you hover over the like button for half a second before giving in, adding a comment:

yourusername   i do like it! please make sure he doesn’t hog it all to himself 😀

the internet, as per usual, goes crazy.

carlos is in miami, and you’re in monaco, which means the time zone gods are, once again, are against you. it’s late— too late— but your phone rings anyway, and you already know what this is about before you even pick up.

you rub at your eyes, propping your phone up on the pillow as carlos holds up his latest haul to the camera, grinning. “look, mi amor,” he says, adjusting the lighting so you can properly see. “i found peach riot!”

you squint. “you don’t even like peach riot.”

he waves you off. “sí, sí, but they had them at the store, and i had to try.”

you groan, shifting deeper under the covers. you know exactly what this is. it’s not about the figurines, not really—it’s about the thrill, the rush of unboxing something, the chase for the rarest one.

carlos digs through the bag, holding up a single box. “okay, i’ll open just one.”

you sigh, heavy with sleep. “baby, it’s almost 2 a.m. for me. can you please just open it?”

he gasps, offended. “well, no! i have to do lucky taps first!”

of course he does. he’s fully committed now.

you watch, exasperated but endeared, as he taps the sides of the box in that almost ritualistic way you taught him— except he’s exaggerating it, dragging his fingertips along the sides with a level of precision that is, quite frankly, unnecessary. he’s doing too much. and yet, you can’t bring yourself to stop him, a soft, tired smile on your lips.

“okay, okay,” he murmurs, hyping himself up before finally peeling off the plastic wrap and tearing the foil packet open. you blink, barely able to keep your eyes open, as he peers inside. his expression shifts—eyebrows jumping, mouth parting slightly before curling into an all-too-smug grin.

he flips the figurine around to show you. the secret. your smile immediately drops.

you let out a long, suffering groan before immediately hanging up the call.

curse you, boyfriend luck!

he calls back not even a minute later.

you answer, squinting at him through the screen, still burrowed under your blanket. carlos, barely holding back laughter, holds up the figurine again. “corazón,” he coos, all sweet and coaxing. “do you want it?”

you glare. “it’s not the same if i don’t pull it myself.”

he pouts, tilting his head. “but i’ll give it to you.”

you bury your face into your pillow, groaning again.

monaco feels different when carlos is home. the apartment, normally so quiet when he's away, hums with the warmth of him— his shoes by the door, his jacket slung carelessly over the couch, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air. it’s a race weekend, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you’re both in the same city again.

it also means carlos is finally seeing, with his own eyes, just how out of hand things have gotten.

a small corner of the living room— what used to be an empty space, clean and minimalist— is now home to a shelf. a full - on shelf. dedicated entirely to the growing collection of figurines you and carlos have amassed over the past few months. rows and rows and rows of figurines now meticulously arranged by series.

you stare at it, arms crossed, lips pursed. carlos, standing beside you, mirrors your stance, rubbing his chin like he’s assessing a piece of fine art.

a long silence stretches between you before you finally say it: “…are we addicted?”

carlos tilts his head, considering. then, without missing a beat— “no.”

you shoot him a look.

he grins. “just committed.”

the blind box obsession wanes, thankfully, though it's not out of disinterest but out of practicality. the season is in full throttle now, the races stacking up one after another, and you’ve been following carlos around the last few stops, which means any new purchases would just be another thing to stuff into an already overpacked suitcase. there’s no time to carefully stack boxes into the shelf back home.

which is why, when you open your eyes on your birthday in your las vegas hotel suite and find a blind box set sitting in front of you, you burst out laughing.

carlos, kneeling in front of you on the couch, looks incredibly pleased with himself. “feliz cumpleaños, mi amor,” he says, watching you with that warm, expectant gaze of his.

“oh my god,” you breathe out, picking up the box, flipping it over in your hands. “carlos.”

it’s not just any blind box set. it’s custom. you look at the packaging, the familiar yet unfamiliar design, and then you see it—your name, carlos’ name, and little illustrated versions of you both printed on the side, mimicking the style of an official collection.

upon closer inspection, the potential figurines include versions of you in your favorite outfits, carlos in his williams race suit, casual wear, even one of him holding a miniature trophy from when he finished p1 in barcelona. there’s even a secret edition, blurred out in a question mark like a real chase figurine.

you blink at it, overwhelmed, before looking up at him. “you got us made into blind boxes?”

carlos grins.

“how?”

“i have my ways.” he shrugs.

“you have a full racing calendar.”

he shrugs, like organizing a fully custom blind box production in the middle of a title fight is just a casual side project. “i planned ahead.”

you shake your head, flipping the box around in disbelief. “you’re actually insane.”

“open one.”

you tear into the packaging, ripping the foil open with probably more force than necessary. the little figurine falls into your palm, and when you turn it over, you nearly lose it. it’s you, down to the details of the outfit you wore the first time carlos ever took you to the paddock, your hair styled just right, the tiny features painstakingly accurate, even if it's just a stylized version of you.

you stare at it, and carlos leans in, nudging your shoulder. “cute, no?”

“carlos.”

“hmm?”

you exhale, shaking your head, but you can’t stop smiling. “this is insane.”

he leans back against the couch, smug. “you love it.”

you narrow your eyes at him. “don’t act like you didn’t make yourself the secret edition.”

his expression doesn’t change. “i am a rare find.”

you shove him, and he laughs, catching your wrist, tugging you into him. “okay, okay,” he concedes, pressing a kiss to your temple, his voice softer now. “but i wanted to give you something special. something just for you.”

you glance down at the box, the tiny, perfect versions of you both, and something warm settles in your chest. you shake your head, exhaling through a smile. “you really are addicted.”

carlos grins, tilting his head. you’re already leaning in, just slightly, like he’s some gravitational pull you’ve long since stopped resisting.

 he meets you halfway, his breath fanning against your lips as he murmurs— soft, smug, as he goes: “eh, just committed.”

[asheepinfrance]

I think you would write сute/comfort fic patrick× pregnant reader 🎀

ACKKKK thank you this is so. im so. i dont know when the last time i got a request was. thank you, deeply, for trusting me with making something you imagined come to fruition in some way. i hope this is something you can enjoy. im calling this one aubrey

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

The words ‘Patrick Zweig’ and ‘commitment’ had essentially never been spoken in the same sentence. Of course, he wasn’t entirely a lost cause when it came to settling down, finding a comfortable life for himself with all the amenities a trust fund and pro-tennis money can buy, but he never, ever wanted to settle. When he looked himself in the mirror, saw himself getting older, a beard growing in that he was reluctant to shave and slightly more dull of a shine to his skin, he still never quite saw himself stepping into traditional adulthood. A 9 to 5 in a cubicle, answering calls on a landline and typing away at a too-slow desktop, carefully adjusting an old picture frame of the wife and kids on the corner of his desk? Not his speed. He preferred freedom with the occasional presence of femininity. He liked that he only had to clean should someone be coming over, that he could hog as much of the duvet of his bed as he so pleased. Hookups were frequent, spontaneous, and usually fairly good. There was an unspoken contract each time: We fuck, you can stay the night but not the morning after, we never speak again. Always kept up, never broken. Sure, you’d been one of his favorites, someone he’d actually spoken to for a decent bit prior to inviting you back to his. Someone he laughed at not to ease them into things, but because they were actually funny. He noticed a lot about you that he didn’t see in most people, from the shape of your teeth to the way the light bounced off your skin when you slept beneath his covers. He could almost feel something, and it made him sick, both to know you’d be gone the next time his eyes were open, and that he was still capable of doing so. 

And then you showed up again, positive test in hand. Precautions had been taken, of course, you weren’t both stupid, and yet, here he was, and here you are, standing on his front porch and asking for him to do something. What it is exactly, he’s not sure. Responsibility, maybe? A promise to pay some kind of child support? Be a father? How was he meant to do that when he hardly had one? He sure as hell couldn’t raise someone from childhood through adolescence up to the big eighteenth birthday, the precipice of mortgages and the reminder that holding onto life is as futile as trying to avoid its reality. Now this was his. And, still, you were one of his favorites. He would figure something out. 

Figuring something out, apparently, had meant calling his parents up for the first time in a few months. After the exasperated greetings, the dreadful small talk, and the false promises of an incoming marriage, he announced there would be a new (probably more suitable) heir to the Zweig estate, there was no question of if he was to receive some financial assistance, maybe even a small job here and there. Anything for the family image, of course. The proliferation of the Zweig family continues with Patrick, apparently. The least proper, least Zweig of all the people in his family to have ever bore the last name. Thank God for rich parents, he thinks each time he sees you. The woman he’s managed to start letting himself feel for, despite his initial resistance. He hasn’t seen you since he woke you up with a kiss this morning, pulling away just in time to see your eyes softly flutter open and your lips open like the red velvet curtains of a stage to see teeth. He pressed a kiss to your stomach afterwards, which was finally starting to show signs of the intense changes your body was undergoing, and you’d let out something between a scoff and a laugh, mumbling something about looking fat. He hadn’t stopped until you’d pushed at his forehead, and when he looked down at the swell of where the life you’d made together was resting, he saw the shining, wet outline of where his lips had been. 

Even if you’d only just begun to show, the differences between the woman at his door holding the most important piece of plastic he’d ever seen to the one now making a space in his home are striking. He’d been the one to hold back your hair the first time you’d been wracked by morning sickness, and each of the subsequent times. He never minded, really. He’d spent many nights emptying his guts into toilet bowls with a friend’s assistance for stupider reasons. He’d been woken up at odd hours of the night to fetch cravings (lately, it’d been butter chicken) or to rub away any aches and pains which had developed. It was a little unpleasant, sure, at times, but he wasn’t experiencing half of it, and he found himself just wanting to make things easier where he could, lost sleep and spicy smelling kitchen be damned. 

He can remember the exact date and time he’d felt his child kick for the first time, mostly because it had nauseated him to no end upon first impact. The idea of a living, breathing human being nestling itself inside walls of muscle and tissue, kicking around amongst the insides of you, made him feel horrendous until he felt it a second time. A living, breathing, just-about human being was doing the best it could at touching him back, and it was one he’d made. When he heard you laughing, most likely at the expression which had pulled over his face like a veil, he joined you. Wonderful. How absolutely wonderful all of it was. Your skin had changed recently. Glowy in a way his hadn’t been since his teen years. It suited you. Made you look almost like a goddess in your softness. He wanted to kiss you until your knees gave out. He wanted to hold you until he began to rot. He wanted to start the process of becoming a father all over again. 

On the way back from one of your appointments, poking and prodding at the taped down gauze in the soft, flat crook of your elbow, feet resting on the dash, he watched the road just a little less than he should. He can’t fault himself. The sun was setting orange, and it gave you the halo he’s sure was hidden behind carbon dioxide and thick, palpable adoration that surrounded you in his presence. He’d let you choose the music, the way he always did. He liked knowing what the inside of your head might sound like. A song he didn’t quite recognize on the strum of guitar strings and the vibration of vocal chords alone struck him. 

“Aubrey… that’s a pretty name, don’t you think?”

He hummed a bit, looking at the display screen to note the name. Aubrey. A not so very ordinary girl or name. 

“I don’t wanna name our daughter after a song by a band named Bread.”

Besides, if you hadn’t gotten your current name, or the slew of pet names he’d placed upon your shoulders, he thinks Aubrey would suit you best. At least, if the lyrics meant anything. He’d do it, though. Maybe if Aubrey was her name, then it’d place just a little bit of your spirit into her. He hoped he hardly had a trace of himself within her. He hoped she had your kind eyes and soft hands, your matter of fact way of approaching things, but the gentleness to comfort. He was too rough, he thought, even if you relentlessly insisted he’d only ever been soft with you. Maybe he liked thinking there was still a bit of toughness left to him outside of his professional life. Life with you wasn’t about winning anything, so he let himself relax. 

He thinks Aubrey’s not so bad.

[antianakin]

That might be true in terms of purifying and bleeding to change it to white or red, but I'm not actually sure high canon supports the idea that changing the color from, say, green to blue, is something that could physically be done without changing the crystal.

Pretty much any time a lightsaber color is changed in high canon, it has involved one lightsaber/crystal being destroyed and the Jedi in question needing to REPLACE it. Luke goes from blue to green when he loses his lightsaber after ESB and gets a new one before ROTJ (obviously the deleted scenes show that he utilizes parts from Obi-Wan's supplies, but deleted scenes are only questionably high canon for me). Ezra goes from blue to green when Vader destroys his saber at the end of season 2 and he just has a new one before season 3. If we take the Ahsoka show into account, Ezra's third lightsaber is back to blue and he obviously has to be using a new crystal since the one in his green saber is pretty clearly still IN the green saber.

And we see multiple characters acquiring lightsabers that they didn't make themselves without it changing the color of the saber. Luke obviously takes on Anakin's and it never changes from the original blue color, despite how long he has it. Sabine seems to bond with the Darksaber in Rebels, but that thing has stayed black for centuries and that doesn't change for Sabine. If we want to take the Ahsoka show into account, she holds onto Ezra's saber for a long time and seems to use it quite a lot and it never changes from its original green color.

So I'm not really sure I buy that a kyber crystal's color comes from the bond with the user OR that someone could feasibly change the kyber crystal's natural color (anything other than white or red) to another natural color. Any time a color has changed, it's because one crystal was destroyed and another needed to be acquired. There is no example that I can recall of someone forcibly changing a lightsaber color from a natural color to another natural color. So I think you DO need to get a new crystal to change the color, unless it's being changed to red or white.

Which means it's a lot more likely that Anakin just grabbed some leftover crystals from Huyang's supplies at the Temple that were already known to be blue and replaced Ahsoka's green/yellow crystals with the blue ones. It's still weird and kind-of creepy, since you can go with the idea that Ahsoka did earn those original crystals and bonded with them to some degree, but it's not quite as invasive as the idea that he like... overrode her soul connection with her crystals and forced them to change color in the way that's similar to bleeding a crystal.

Anakin changing the color of Ahsoka's lightsabers is such a weird writing choice to make because it honestly makes zero sense with everything we've been shown or told up until then about how lightsabers work.

In the Gathering arc, we see all of the kids pick up what appear to be pretty similarly colored white crystals, but they don't all end up with the same color lightsaber. We hear them discuss the importance of choosing the design of the hilt to suit them, but never once hear them discuss any importance to choosing the COLOR of the saber. There's never any indication that the Jedi can choose the color of their saber, it's effectively chosen for them when they're led to a crystal to begin with.

The only other times we know someone can change the color of a crystal is bleeding and purifying which requires a lot of effort and appears to result only in red or white blades.

So for Anakin to have changed the color of Ahsoka's sabers from green/yellow to blue, either we need to completely discount that worldbuilding and assume that the hilt provides the color somehow and can be engineered differently, or Anakin somehow found two new crystals that he was able to confirm were blue and replaced her crystals with the new ones.

The option was there to just have Anakin have adjusted the design of hilt if they wanted to have Anakin do something to her lightsabers that was invasively sweet in a typically Anakin sort of way, to make them match his and Obi-Wan's more or something. Or if they wanted it to be genuinely sweet, he could've just given her back the sabers normally. And instead, they just... threw out everything we ever knew about the lightsabers just to give Ahsoka sabers that they were going to have her throw away in 3 episodes anyway and never get back. I don't really see the point of it when the lightsabers have no emotional impact upon anything.

[bueckersleftbraid]

pazzi as moms!!

An AU one shot in which Azzi and Paige both play for the Los Angeles Sparks and have a daughter.

wc: 2.9k (sry its short!!)

pls leave live reacts I will love you 4ever!!

p.s. I would possibly be down for writing a part 2 of like this scenario or the flashback?? lmk! <3

“But mommy I don’t wanna!” The little girl whined, her brown curls messy as she had just gotten out of bed. She looked just like her mother- except for those icy blue eyes which some how always persuaded Azzi to give her what she wanted.

“I know Abby baby, but you don’t really have a choice. If you want to see mama and mommy play this weekend, you have to go to school.” Azzi spoke, her voice soft but firm, as she looked down at her mini doppelgänger. The name Abby had come for a sweet girl that was a friend of Paige and Azzi when they played at UConn, someone who they both held close to their hearts. She was a light to all of the girls on the team- and ever since she had met her, even before she passed, Azzi was sure that Abby would be the name of her child in honor of the special girl. Paige had been totally on board with the idea, and didn’t hesitate to agree as Abby was also a memory she would never dare to let go.

“Hmft!” Abby plopped down on the floor, crossing her arms with I pout, “I want mama!” Abby’s voice was whiny, and Azzi knew the little girl wouldn’t give up until she got what she wanted. Plus, she could never say no to the eyes that looked almost identical to the ones she fell in love with years ago.

“Okay baby, how about we give mama a call while you get ready for school?” Azzi pulled out her phone from her back pocket and Abby’s face immediately lit up, her arms falling to her side to push herself off the ground. Azzi clicked on the pinned contact and the phone rang only once before a familiar voice echoed through the speaker.

“Hi, what’s up Az?” Paige spoke through the phone. She was clearly in the middle of something, walking swiftly through the city of Los Angeles, car horns and voices bustling around her.

“Abby wants to talk to you while she gets ready- she’s been a real pain this morning. If your busy we don’t-“

“No. No don’t even finish that sentence. I am never to busy for my girls.” Paige said, cutting her off. Azzi gave her a soft smile before handing the phone over to Abby. “Hi my sweet girl. Are you giving mommy a hard time this morning?” Paige cooed through the phone, a smile melting onto her face as soon as she saw her daughter on the screen.

“Nooo mommy wants me to go to school- mama tell her that I don’t have to go to school.” The little girl demanded, a pot still evident on her face.

“Well Abbs, school is important- but how about this? Mommy and I will take you out for ice cream tonight if your good allllll day?” Paige always had a way of annoying Azzi by giving into more than what Abby had asked for. 

“Really Mama? Your gonna buy me ice cream??” The little girl sounded ecstatic, her eyes immediately lighting up and the words ice cream. 

“Sure sweet girl, anything for you. Now listen to Mommy and get ready for school.” Paige spoke, her face looking up from the phone every few seconds to check her surroundings. Azzi set up the phone against the bathroom mirror before taking a brush and some hair spray to try and tame the toddlers messy curls. 

“Mommy I want braids like mama today” Abby spoke as she watched Paige intently through the phone screen, noticing that the blonde had her signature hairstyle in. Paige gave the girl a small smile as she heard her request.

“Okay, and how about a pink bow to match your outfit?” Azzi suggested. Paige and Azzi had both agreed that their daughter would have the best style- no matter where she was going- because she was their daughter after all. Paige and Azzi both being known for their pregame fits, and sometimes accompanied by their daughter- who always wore a matching bow in her hair- had made it their goal to make their daughter an icon in the fashion world before the age of 12. And sometimes accompanied far, they had succeeded. 

“Abbs guess who you get to see this weekend?” Paige said, the same smile that had been on her face since she answered the call only growing.

“Who mama?” The little girl said her voice a mix of curiosity and excitement.

“Well this weekend mama and mommy’s team are playing the Mystics. Do you remember who plays for the Mystics?” Paige said, as she looked down at the phone to see her daughter’s reaction. Abby thought for a second before her face lit up.

“Auntie Lili!!” Abby exclaimed, as Azzi tried to keep her head still so she wouldn’t pull on her hair. The girls chatted until Azzi finished Abby’s hair, and then Abby went to get dressed, leaving Azzi alone in the bathroom with Paige still on the phone.

“I like that color on you baby,” Paige spoke as she stared at Azzi through the phone. Azzi was wearing a brown set, which complimented her skintone perfectly. Really, she had worn it because she knew Paige liked it, but she would never admit that fact.

“Thanks P,” Azzi smile softly at her wife through the phone, “What time do you think you’ll be home? I wanna go for lunch” Azzi spoke as she pulled her hair up into a bun.

“Um.. probably 10? I should be back on the road in a few so maybe even before that.” Paige and Azzi had made the conscious decision to buy a house about an hour away from the city, in Calabasas, wanting a quieter life. Even though they had to go into LA often, they enjoyed having a homier neighborhood to raise their daughter in. Azzi was also very adamant that her daughter not be exposed to the craziness of the city before she was old enough to understand it. So, whenever they went to games, it was a quick in and out.

“Okay, any ideas for lunch? I’m sort of craving a salad.” Azzi had always been one to eat healthy. Paige on the other hand hated vegetables- or anything of the sort. She would much rather have a greasy fast food meal any day of the week.

“How about I take you to Erewhon? My treat.” Paige said, knowing that the store would have something for both of them- despite the high price tag. Paige had been begging Azzi to bring her recently anyway because she was dying to try their Mac and cheese.

“That’s fine with me, just text me when you’re almost home so I’ll be ready” Azzi said as she picked up the phone from the counter and walked into Abby’s room. “Abby baby say bye to mama” Azzi said, handing the phone off to the toddler.

“Bye mama! I love you!” Abby said as she waived to Paige through the screen.

“I love you too sweet girl, be good for mama okay?” Paige said as she looked at her daughter, now dressed in a pink tshirt and jean shorts, and of course wearing her cross necklace to match the ones that adorned both her parents necks daily.

“I will!” Abby said as she handed the phone back to Azzi before scurrying to grab her backpack.

“Safe driving- love you P” Azzi gave her wife a soft smile, taking a second to admire the way the California sun made the blondes blue eyes glow.

“Love you too Az” Paige before hanging up the phone.

——

The breeze of the mid July wind felt perfect against Azzi’s face as they drove on the road with the rolled down. It was the perfect day. The sun was shining and it wasn’t to hot, but just the right amount of warm. Paige’s hand rested against the exposed skin of her wife’s thigh, softly squeezing it every now at then, her thumb subconsciously rubbing against the soft skin. Azzi’s gaze landed outside the passenger window, gazing at the gorgeous view of the coast as they took their favorite drive. They rarely got to take this adventure anymore, since having Abby they’d become busy at every turn. But today was the perfect opportunity, considering Abby was at school and they both had a free schedule. Driving was one of their favorite activities early in their relationship and it always gave them both flashbacks to when Paige had first driven Azzi around Storrs.

Flashback - Summer 2020

“Come on Az, I promise it’s worth it.” Paige had been practically begging Azzi for the last hour to let her take her for a drive around Storrs. The town wasn’t exactly the most exciting place, but Paige knew every corner of it- every shortcut, every hidden gem, every quiet escape. And more than anything, she wanted Azzi to see it the way she did.

She wanted her to see UConn as home.

Azzi sat cross-legged on Paige’s dorm bed, absently scrolling through her phone. She could feel Paige’s gaze on her, those piercing blue eyes, the ones she was slowly falling deeper for by the second, filled with mischief and anticipation. The truth was, Azzi never could resist her.

“Fine. But only a short drive- 30 minutes tops.” Azzi huffed, finally caving. 

Paige grinned, triumphant. “You’re gonna love it.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but her lips curled slightly at the sight of Paige’s excitement. There was something about her energy, something contagious, something that made Azzi’s carefully built walls lower just a little every time they were together. Paige had a way of making the world feel smaller, like it was just the two of them, like nothing else mattered. And that terrified Azzi more than she was willing to admit.

Paige and Azzi were currently in what one would like the call ‘the in-between’. It was obvious to anyone that there were feelings, and sure, they had made out more than a few times… and maybe more… but, they weren’t dating. Nor had they addressed the butterflies that erupted in their stomachs when they caught each others eyes from across the room, or how the quiet and intimate nights spent together when Paige would visit Azzi in DC felt. They were just… them. Paige and Azzi. P and Az. They were just figuring it out.

Azzi slipped on one of Paige’s many UConn sweatshirts that she had collected through her past few months on campus. 

“Hmm.. you look good in husky blue Az,” Paige said, a small smirk growing across her face as she saw Azzi in her sweatshirt, her eyes drifting up and down her figure.

“You think?” Azzi said, not even noticing the smirk on Paige’s face as she looked at herself in the mirror. The choice had always been sort of obvious to Azzi. I mean, playing with 3 or her best friends, Amari, Caroline, and Paige, plus it all being at the Basketball Capital of the World? How could she say no? But she had also been swayed by Maryland- it being close to her family, as well as UCLA, considering it had always been a dream of hers. But despite not telling anyone, her mind was pretty set on UConn. Mostly because of a certain blonde, but she would never admit that.

“Come on Az, let’s go” Paige said, her voice soft as she took Azzi’s hand in hers, intertwining their fingers and pulling her out of her thoughts. Paige always had a way of making the brunette feel safe with the simplest of gestures. And that? That was dangerous.

——

“Paige we’ve been off campus for 20 minutes, where are we going?” Azzi spoke, her voiced tinged with a hit of annoyance, though they both knew she didn’t mind these quiet moments alone with the blonde.

“Almost there, promise.” Paige squeezed her hand softly as her thumb traced over her knuckles. 

Eventually, Paige pulled off the main road onto a barely visible dirt path. The car bumped along the uneven ground until they reached what looked like a small, secluded parking area. There wasn’t much to see- just tall grass swaying in the breeze, a hint of water glistening beyond the trees.

Azzi furrowed her brows. “Are you planning to murder me in the woods? Because if so, I’d like to know beforehand.”

Paige laughed, shaking her head as she unbuckled her seatbelt. “Just get out of the car, Az.”

She made her way over to the passenger door, continuing the tradition of opening Azzi’s door for her whenever she gave her the chance. She reached out a hand to help her step down from the car and Azzi accepted it, not letting go when she reached the ground. Paige led her down towards the darkness, but then suddenly a dock was illuminated in the distance by a few stands of hanging lights.

“What… what is this?” Azzi’s voice was soft as she looked around. She had never seen or heard of this dock, which was as odd considering it seemed like a pretty nice spot.

“It’s nothing really, Geno’s family owns the lot, but their away right now. He said the team can come here whenever so… I brought you with me.” Paige spoke as she led Azzi down the dock towards the patio furniture that sat at the end. 

As they reached the dock Paige sat down, pulling Azzi into her, but Azzi was hesitant.

“Come on Az. No one’s around, just let me hold you,” Paige’s eyes were pleading, she needed this. She needed Azzi. Her Azzi. 

The brunette gave in, leaning into Paige’s body- well more like melting into it. She had craved her touch, the closeness that they had lacked since she had last spent a night with Paige. 

“I’ve missed you so much Az, more than you’ll ever know” Paige muttered into the cool summer air. Azzi instinctively moved closer, her arms finding their way around Paige’s waist from the side as she inhaled the familiar sent of the blonde. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Paige spoke again, noticing how quite Azzi was. “What’s on your mind pretty girl?”

Azzi exhaled softly before responding, melting impossibly further into Paige’s touch.

“I think I’m gonna commit.” Azzi spoke. Her voice was quick, like she’d been dying to get these words off her chest for weeks.

“Wait Az- seriously?” Paige sat up, meeting her eyes. 

Azzi nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I haven’t told anyone yet. You’re the first person I’ve said it out loud to, so you can’t tell anyone yet, okay?” 

For a moment, Paige didn’t say anything. Then, suddenly, she was moving- wrapping Azzi in a tight embrace, burying her face in the crook of her neck.

“Oh my god, Az,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Azzi felt a dampness against her skin and realized with a jolt that Paige was crying.

She pulled back, cupping Paige’s face in her hands. “Hey... are you crying?”

Paige let out a watery laugh. “Shut up.”

Azzi smiled, her thumb brushing away a stray tear from Paige’s cheek. “I didn’t think you’d be this emotional about it.”

Paige sniffled, but her grin was unstoppable. “Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting for you to say that since the moment I met you.”

Azzi’s heart flipped in her chest.

She didn’t respond—she didn’t need to. Instead, she leaned in, closing the distance between them in a soft, lingering kiss.

It tasted like promises. Like the start of something real.

And for the first time, Azzi wasn’t scared.

——

Present - June 2031

The engine hummed softly as Paige pulled into the daycare parking lot, easing the car into a shaded spot near the entrance. Azzi sat comfortably in the passenger seat, her head tilted back slightly against the headrest, eyes half-lidded from the warmth of the afternoon sun. The remnants of their afternoon drive still lingered—the salty ocean breeze in their hair, the faint scent of sunscreen on their skin, and the shared laughter that had filled the car as they cruised down the Southern California coast.

It had been a perfect day.

Lunch had been as predictable as ever- Azzi with her fresh Cobb salad, something light yet filling, and Paige with her usual combination of comfort foods. Mac and cheese, strawberries, and grilled chicken. She had barely glanced at the vibrant array of fresh vegetables Erewhon offered, much to Azzi’s amusement.

“I don’t understand how you survive without eating real greens,” Azzi had teased, twirling a forkful of her salad.

Paige had only grinned, popping a strawberry into her mouth. “These count.”

Now, parked in the lot, the golden California sun cast a soft glow across Azzi’s skin, making it nearly impossible for Paige to look away.

The way the sunlight kissed her tan complexion, the way the warmth made her eyes just a shade lighter, like pools of honey—it was almost unfair. Paige had seen Azzi in every possible setting, in every lighting, in every moment of exhaustion, excitement, and everything in between. But somehow, she never got used to how effortlessly stunning she was.

She let out a small breath, shaking her head slightly before speaking.

“You look so beautiful, Az,” Paige murmured, her voice dipping into something softer, something more raw. Her eyes traced every inch of the girl beside her, like she was committing the sight to memory.

Azzi turned, her gaze meeting Paige’s, amusement flickering in her brown eyes at the sudden intensity. But it only lasted a second before something more tender settled in her expression.

“Thank you, baby,” she hummed, reaching out to brush a strand of blonde hair behind Paige’s ear.

Paige swallowed, her heart skipping at the simple touch.

God, she was in so deep.

Azzi’s thumb traced lightly over Paige’s cheekbone, her touch featherlight, but the effect was immediate. Paige felt her breath hitch slightly, her pulse thrumming in her ears.

“You’re staring,” Azzi whispered, tilting her head slightly, her lips curling at the edges.

Paige smirked, but she didn’t look away. 

“Can you blame me?”

Azzi laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re perfect.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her gaze betrayed her. Paige could tell she liked hearing it, even if she pretended otherwise.

For a moment, they just sat there, the hum of the world outside the car fading into the background. It was these moments Paige cherished the most—the quiet in-between, where nothing needed to be said, where everything they felt was just understood.

A soft buzz interrupted the stillness, Azzi’s phone vibrating against the center console. She glanced at the screen and sighed, stretching slightly before unbuckling her seatbelt.

“Time to pick up the little monster,” 

Paige groaned playfully. “I was really enjoying just staring at you.”

Azzi laughed, leaning over to press a soft kiss to the blonde’s cheek. “You’ll survive.”

Paige sighed dramatically, but a smile tugged at her lips as she watched Azzi step out of the car, the sunlight catching in her curls.

Yeah, she was definitely in too deep.

____

“Mommy! Mama!” Abby’s excited voice rang through the warm afternoon air as she sprinted across the small daycare yard, her tiny backpack bouncing with each hurried step. Her curls, wild from a day of play, framed her beaming face as she launched herself toward the two women standing at the bottom of the steps.

“Hi sweet girl” Paige cooed as she took her daughter’s backpack and slung it over her shoulder. 

“Ready for ice cream Abbs?” Azzi hummed, lifting up her daughter and carrying her on her hip. 

“Yes Mommy! Can we go to the beach ice cream shop? So I can see the seals in the water?” Abby said excitedly. She had always loved the ice cream shop that sat across the street from the coast, Ted’s. Coincidentally sharing a name with UConns on campus bar, which Paige and Azzi frequented during their years in college.

As Azzi held Abby close, the little girl wrapped her arms around her neck, resting her head on her mother’s shoulder. Paige reached over, smoothing a few stray curls from Abby’s forehead as they made their way back to the car.

The afternoon sun had started to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the daycare lot. The warmth of California’s breeze wrapped around them, carrying the distant scent of saltwater and summer. It was one of those moments Paige wished she could freeze in time—the three of them together, no rush, no stress, just this.

After buckling Abby into her car seat, Paige slid into the passenger seat while Azzi took the wheel.

“Alright, Ted’s it is,” Azzi said, turning on the car.

“Yay!” Abby cheered from the back.

Paige turned her head for just a second to catch the girls eye, before turning back to the road. “What flavor are you getting, Abbs?”

“Umm…” Abby scrunched her nose, deep in thought. “The chocolate one with the rainbow sprinkles. And the cookie on top!”

Paige gasped playfully. “No way! That’s the best one.”

Abby giggled, kicking her little feet excitedly. “Mommy what are you gonna get?”

Paige glanced at Azzi, smirking. “Let me guess… vanilla?”

Azzi scoffed, crossing her arms. “Excuse me, I have taste.”

“Do you?” Paige teased. “Because all through college, you only ever got plain vanilla or maybe chocolate if you were feeling wild.”

Abby burst into laughter at that, and Azzi rolled her eyes. “Okay, Mommy, what are you getting then?”

Paige shrugged, smirking. “Mint chocolate chip, obviously.”

Azzi groaned, making a dramatic gagging noise. “You would. That is the worst flavor ever.”

Paige gasped, feigning offense. “Oh, we’re breaking up.”

“Too late, you’re stuck with me forever,” Azzi shot back with a mischievous smile as she waived her left hand in the air, flaunting her wedding ring.

Paige shook her head, laughing, as she reached for Azzi’s hand, squeezing it as she drove. It was the simplest of gestures, but it made Azzi’s heart flip, the same way it had when they were just kids navigating their feelings all those years ago.

As they pulled up to Ted’s, the familiar hum of the ocean filled the air, waves crashing in the distance. Abby practically bounced in her seat, eager to get her ice cream and see the seals.

Paige turned to Azzi, watching as she smiled at their daughter, her eyes filled with nothing but love.

This- these little moments, these small but infinite pieces of happiness- this was everything.

And Paige wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

Ohhh its gettin interesting...

Bully Phainon started to noticed how Mydei is becoming softer and the way the two of you is gettin closer. Phainon did NOT like it at all since he also has a crush on reader and moreover, both of him and Mydei had agreed that they will only use reader for fun, no romantic feelings.

Phainon hated it.

Hated the way Mydei had started looking at you when he thought no one was paying attention. Hated the way he was going soft—soft, of all things—when it came to you. Phainon wasn’t stupid; he saw the way Mydei’s teasing had shifted from sharp jabs to something annoyingly close to flirting. He saw the way his hands lingered a little too long when he pushed you around, the way he made excuses to keep you close. It was pathetic.

And more than anything, Phainon hated the way you were responding to it.

You had always been their little plaything, someone to mess with when they were bored, to tease and bully because they *could*. That was how it was supposed to be. But now? Now you were smiling at Mydei. Letting him get away with touching you. Looking at him like you actually liked him, like you wanted him to keep doing it. And Mydei, the idiot, was eating it up.

It pissed Phainon off.

He caught Mydei staring at you during lunch—his gaze soft, his usual smirk replaced with something dangerously close to affection. Phainon clenched his jaw.

“You’re gettin’ sloppy,” he muttered, just loud enough for Mydei to hear.

Mydei blinked, then scoffed, leaning back in his seat. “And you’re getting nosy.”

Phainon didn’t let it drop. He leaned in, voice low. “We agreed, didn’t we? She’s just for fun. No feelings, no attachments. Or did you forget?”

Mydei’s jaw tensed for a split second—just enough for Phainon to see. Then he grinned, all fake amusement. “Relax. I’m just keeping her entertained.”

Phainon didn’t buy it. He knew Mydei too well. Knew that something had changed.

And he hated it. Because if Mydei was starting to actually like you—then what did that mean for him?

He wasn’t supposed to care. He wasn’t supposed to want you. But every time he saw you giggle at Mydei’s stupid jokes, every time you let Mydei touch you without pushing him away, it made something bitter and possessive coil in Phainon’s chest.

He hated seeing Mydei get closer to you.

And he wasn’t going to let it happen.

[goldenlionprince]

Sign your name across my heart

Following @sorenphelps art and story "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty" in The Bodyguard AU, let's see how James handles this brand new information of Sirius' real name.

if you want to check out previous parts of mine, I have a collection on AO3 for all of them. tags for @neverenoughmarauders @lovelymasks

.

“Sirius,” James says, enjoying the way the name rolls off his tongue. It feels like it has always been there and not like James has only said that name for like fifteen times in all his life.

“James,” Sirius says, sitting down on the couch that is almost too small for two people, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. He looks a lot better now after the sleep he got. James likes to think the dino nuggets he made did their magic as well. “Should I already regret telling you my name since you're overusing it just a tiny little bit?”

James grins and walks over to the couch. He doesn't care about it being so small since it gives him the perfect excuse to straddle Sirius' lap instead. “Don't worry, I will go back to sprinkle in Soldier Boy again eventually, I would miss it otherwise. But for now you will just have to deal with me saying your name as many times as I can, Sirius.”

Sirius sighs but there is a smile on his lips and James is pretty proud of that. “You're impossible.”

“I take that as a compliment,” James says and tugs Sirius' hair free of its bun so he can run his fingers through it.

“Of course you would,” Sirius says, his hands sliding underneath the faded purple fabric of the dino shirt James is wearing.

James hums contently, wrapping the silky strands around his fingers and tugging slightly. “You know what's even more offensive than your pantry?”

Sirius leans his head back against the couch and closes his eyes. “What?”

Using his chance, James leans in to brush his lips along Sirius' neck as he speaks. “The lack of condoms and lube in this flat, unless you hid them somewhere very well.”

Sirius laughs and it sends a surge of warmth through James' body. He could listen to that sound forever. “Yeah, sorry. I wasn't expecting to host anyone here.”

“Outrageous, really,” James says, nipping at Sirius' collar bone. “I expect better from my boyfriend.”

Sirius opens his eyes to look at him. “Your boyfriend, hmm?”

James sits back up again in Sirius' lap so he can look into his eyes. “Didn't I make it clear that I won't let you go anytime soon?”

“I don't know,” Sirius teases, his fingertips brushing along James' sides, making him shiver. “It kind of sounded like you were about to send me out to buy condoms.”

“And vegetables,” James says, leaning into the touch. “Unrelated to condoms.”

“Anything else you want?” Sirius asks.

James just leans in and kisses him.

****

It takes them more than two hours to get ready to leave the flat. James has to borrow a pair of Sirius' cargo pants, seeing that he only has his sweatpants as an option and he really doesn't fancy wearing them again, plus the blood on them might pull a little too much attention. He's actually feeling pretty cool in cargo pants. It's probably worth looking into getting a pair of his own, although stealing Sirius' clothes feels pretty nice too.

His boyfriend's clothes. James can't do anything against the goofy smile that thought brings to his face.

Sirius unlocks the three locks on the door and unhooks the chain. James leans against the wall next to the door, waiting until every lock is undone and Sirius finally opens the door – and pauses.

Concerned, James looks past him, but all he sees is a big basket on their doorstep.

Lie low for a while. Text me if you need anything.

There is a little dinosaur drawn at the end of the note attached to it.

The basket is full of groceries. James can see vegetables, bread and milk. But the best items are tugged right beneath Remus' note. James can't help but laugh as he leans over and plucks out the package of condoms. “Seems like we don't have to go anywhere after all.”

“How nice,” Sirius says and there is a fire in his eyes that makes James shiver.

A grin spreads on James' lips. “Get the groceries in, Soldier Boy. Then we can see how quickly we need to text Remus for some more of these.”

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪? 𝕄𝕖? ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Hmmm akito and toya (separate) x reader who has a crush on them but thinks doesnt have a chance with them and refuses to confess even they liked them for a long time? But with buying them expensive gifts such as on valentines day with a big bouquet so obviously and says “were just friends.( lie ) Toya/Akito doesnt like me… its always nice to treat your friends.” In the end akito toya made the first move first

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Awwwh of course!! I know, I took my sweet time ToT

But I still really hope you'll like it!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ angst -> fluff, TW: swear in Akito's part

You were always Akito's "best buddy" even if there were people who doubted that. Both of you were treating yourself like siblings you wished you had! Well... that's on the outside... on the inside, you actually were havign a big crush on him! But it was just you...

One day, you got your hopes up... it was a day before valentine's!

"Hey, do you have someone you wanna give present tomorrow?"

"Hm? No, not really."

Did I mention your hopes got crushed next second?

"You?"

"I don't know..."

"Well you better make up your mind then. There's not much time left."

And that's where your conversation ended that day... you even decided to skip the bit event after that! But maybe that's for the better? Because when you came back, your friend told you that...

"I told him you like him too."

You literally froze in tracks. How could they do that and then come tell you that so proudly?! Stopping yourself from throwing a tantrum, you shortly after realized.. "too"?

"What do you mean-"

"You'll see~"

And this.. is how it began~ After school you got grabbed to the side by Akito with flowers/chocolates in his hand and surprisingly flustered face... No wonder he wanted it to be alone conversation!

"I... listen, your friend told me you liked me.. and I just wanted to know if it's not bunch of bullshit."

Blushing you gathered your courage to speak up, even tho you couldn't look at him in shane and fear you'll loose him forever...

"Yeah..."

That was the only thing you muttered. And it kept silent for a while after that... before he finally decided to speak again. Or more like handed you item he was holding all this time..

"For you. Don't look for anyone else now."

You took the gift in pure confusion. You wanted to ask him what did he even mean by all that but the moment you got the hang of reality, he was already gone... most likely he walked away when you were amongst the clouds!

"Did he... c-confess?!!"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @yulikesminori @miya-akane @hayillaaaaaaa @hakulivesformusic @luhvashh @akiritoz @sucodelaranja86 @aluvslink - come get your pancakes lover~

Toya was your crush basically since you met him! He was like everything anyone could possibly want in a guy! He had his rules, he was gentle and polite, not to mention caring and knew what he wants... everyone knew you were head over heels for him except for one person... him.

But the same situation happened to him! Ironic, isn't it?

Take this situation for example...

"Hey, Toya! I made some lunch for both of us.. hope you like it!"

"I'm sure it's as lovely as always~ So don't worry."

Both of you were giving each other sheepish looks and none of you even noticed... both of you thought it was simply being nice.

But you were a lot blunt than he was! His friend gave him advice to flirt more... so he did only thing he somehow knew from that category. And gave you compliments! Yet, you always thought he was just being friendly and tried to make you feel good about yourself...

Finally, he decides (with Akito's and An's help) that it's enough of you not seeing things! After very VERY long time, as he himself thought you were missing things on purpose...

"Y/N. Would you mind if we had a talk now?"

He asked at lunch break, while looking at you with innocent look.

"Oh-! Sure... What is it?"

You were honestly scared what he may want to talk about... Did you do anything? Is this the end? Only bad things spread through your head...

"I've noticed you never really took my flirts into account... and I wanted to know, if you truly think of me as your friend alone?"

"F-Flirts?!"

You were absolutely shocked!! He was FLIRTING with you?!! How in hell did you miss THAT?!! Maybe because he was way too subtle and you way too blunt...

"Yes."

"I- I didn't even.. know..."

"I really thought I was being obvious with that..."

You were surprised a lot... But it slowly all made sense to you! The random compliments about how great you are, how he carried only your bags, and so on...

As you were deep in your thoughts, he seemed to took your pause as a sign of refusement!

"I'm taking it you're only interested in me as a friend?"

"Huh-?! Oh, no, no!! I like you! A lot! I-"

You stopped when you realized how many things you said in so little time just because you were panicked..!

"You do..?"

He smiled gently at you, his eyes sparkling with joy, as you were thinking it all through with a blushy face. But it's now sure this is the beginning of your story~

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @yulikesminori @kuzzz0ya @miya-akane @toyaslove @sucodelaranja86 - come get your cookie lover~

[lalalipuyofgulg]

Non-binary ads!

I miss non-binary ads. You know what's super offensive?

If I put my biological "age" and "gender" into the Disney plus app profile... (I just wanted to watch the Simpsons treehouse of horror episodes)

Well I got ads for menopause treatments, incontinence pads, "digital pregnancy tests" (as if anyone would want THAT in our current political climate).

I hate to sound like an old person here, but I would love to see some ads for the general public. I liked it when ads WEREN'T targeted according to THEIR bizarro version of what I want.

How about some liquor ads?

How about some ads for the new Gatorade flavor or the my-pillow, or something hilarious like the shake-weight? (Look it up! It's so funny!)

Nonbinary ads! I miss you!

Of course watching broadcast television is even more awful because it's all pharmaceutical ads geared towards the truly elderly..., So I guess it could always be worse.

Anyway, our society sure loves binary oppositions, huh?

Or, you know, they could actually use their much lauded algorithms to advertise dungeons and dragons products, or fantasy novels/memorabilia, or cosplay supplies to me.

That algorithm ain't shit.

[delicatepointofview]

gonna have to deal with people missing the point of louis singing 1d songs in festivals... don't get me started on the other covers

[akirathedramaqueen]

Octavia's and Blitzø's potential relationship development

I believe that the show, despite Octavia openly hating Blitzø, gives us some hints that they have much more in common than it seems. I’ve noticed a couple of moments where Blitzø and Octavia are… pretty much in sync, if that makes sense.

Here are those moments I’ve noticed… maybe stretched in some places, but! Hear me out!

1. Here, they don’t hear each other, but both are repulsed by Stolas’s obnoxious language and express the same reaction. It’s funny that Stolas is the one calling them out.

[Blitzø]: WHAT [Octavia]: THE [Blitzø]: FUCK [Octavia]: DAD?! S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 4:52

2. They also share a distaste for Stolas’s behavior throughout the episode, albeit in slightly different ways. In fact, this serves as a great demonstration of how deaf and blind Stolas is to obvious social cues at the beginning of the series—he doesn’t stop even when directly asked to do so on multiple occasions.

Blitzø is disgusted by Stolas’s awkward, overly sexual advances and demeaning language towards him and his work.

[Stolas]: You are so cute when you are serious! S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 6:06

Octavia is taken aback by essentially the same. However, she blames both of them, understandably failing to recognize that Blitzø is just as uncomfortable as she is. From her perspective, Blitzø is a homewrecker who contributed to destroying her parents' marriage.

[Stolas]: You know, it's quite thrilling to see you on the job, Blitzy.[Blitzø]: Save it, bitch, I am working. [Octavia]: You both need to get a room. S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 8:20

3. They share the hate for the same clown!

[Blitzø and Octavia]: I hate that fucking clown. S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 8:50

4. They seem to have similar tastes in music! The song My World Is Burning Down Around Me, which Octavia plays to tune out Stella’s screaming, is also heard in Blitzø’s van when he comes to pick up Loona in the Queen Bee episode, although it’s only instrumental. Here, have a look. If, for some reason, the service with the timeframes isn’t working, I’ll also provide the timings in writing so you can check it yourself on YouTube.

Octavia turns on the song, and for a while, we can hear the lyrics before it fades into the background as the scene shifts to Stella yelling at Stolas and later to Stolas’s conversation with Octavia. S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 2:52 - 3:50

The song’s instrumental version can be heard when Blitzø’s van arrives, and the background noise at Queen Bee’s club is different, so there’s no chance for misinterpretation. It is the music Blitzø’s was listening to. S1EP8, Queen Bee, 8:20 - 9:14

5. Haha, they freak out in the same way in the Seeing Stars episode! I know it’s probably just a stylistic choice to transition from Octavia’s initial experience with LA to Blitzø having to contact Stolas and explain what happened. However, I might be indulging in a bit of wishful thinking, suggesting that this similarity in their stress responses could have some deeper meaning.

S2EP2, Seeing Stars, 4:42

So-o... What am I trying to say with all these points I've made?

Like the kind of delulu who yells, "Ghostfuckers, save us!" (we know Viv, we know how trying to put our hopes up ends, haha), I draw a complete unhinged card and I am going to make a very bold claim:

I think that once Stolas and Blitzø finally get their shit and themselves back together, and Octavia realizes there’s much more to the story than, “Oh, it’s just horny dad cheated on my mum with a red lizard dickhead and my dad ruined my family,” Octavia could actually bond with Blitzø quite nicely, and he would make a good second dad to her! Well, don’t get me wrong. She might never want to take it to that level. Also, we don’t know how things will turn out, nor do we know her relationship with her mum, Stella.

But I do believe that their parallels were thrown in for a reason. Despite the circumstances, they can, and maybe will, be on much better terms than they currently are.

Go on, call me delusional and leave me be in my complete denial corner. <3 I admit I do tend to forget the current state of the Stolitz relationship in the series, as in my world, where I’m prioritizing my time working on that fic, they are finally together. I am bitter-sweetly excited that @tealvenetianmask and I are slowly but surely getting close to finishing it. :)

(Yes, yes, it was shameless self-promotion—sue me for the unlawful use of a speculatory-analytical post space to promote our version of Stolitz working hard to sort out their issues post Apology Tour and having some silly and horny fun along the way.)

[okitanoniisan]

no one can reach my level of petty hating about the stupid english title

[the-deadlock-south]

like, archives used to be THE BIGGEST overwatch event for me because it was the most we got in terms of in-game lore and i just genuinely enjoyed playing them (retribution, my beloved), but invasion? don't know her. i refuse to pay for it and not only do i not regret not getting to play it - i haven't even bothered to check the gameplay on youtube. this is how uninterested i am in the game these days. so yeah, the fumbled overwatch big time.

THIS IS WHAT IM SAYING THIS IS THE REALEST THING EVER

genuinely always felt like such a treat going to play the archive missions uuuggghhh i miss her so bad........ there will never be such a fumble for a videogame than ow this i'm absolutely certain

[blackgoddesssworld]

You guys need to grow up.... it's really not that deep

[riiviir]

hey guys so I just started reading Flatland by Edwin A. Abbott and OMG AHSBNSBSBSNSNBSHZHSHDBFHGGHFHGRJ2KSHSBSNSK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE THINKING ABOUT THE RELATIVITY BETWEEN DIMENSIONS!!!!!!