#or something like that I feel like there's some symbolism in that

[zorilleerrant]

So the differences between these two cover a lot. They are both con men. They are both autistically obsessed with their special coats. They do pay careful attention to fashion trends and tailor their appearances to the space they're trying to infiltrate, something that seemed fun and easy to them to begin with. (Altho I do get the impression Captain Jack signed up initially out of some sense of duty or protecting his fellow sapients.) They're both family men who are terrified of endangering their families. The type of guy is likely to draw the same crowd in a lot of cases. The details vary a lot.

First, erotic relationships - while Constantine sleeps around whenever he's single (or, rather, used to when he was younger), he's a serial monogamist at heart. He falls fast and deep for whoever's caught his eye this minute, even when he's trying to keep it casual. He always expects it to be long term, and his overly intense expectations inevitably cause him to fuck something up. While he's open to sexual experimentation with his current partner (orgies, etc.), he can't really handle polyamory. Captain Jack, on the other hand, is capable of understanding monogamous relationships (it probably exists as a queer identity where he's from), but he struggles to engage in one. He meets people where they are, though, and so sometimes engages in relationships that are dispreferential to him, figuring he can fill that in elsewhere.

Second, killing - Captain Jack considers himself a soldier, even when he's doing civilian things, even when he's on the run, even when he's working for a very different cause than a war. War shaped him, and war stole away his limits. He has no hesitation about killing people if it's necessary. Even when he knows them, loves them, doesn't want to hurt them: when he knows it's necessary, he simply acts. He doesn't enjoy hurting or killing people, but he does consider it a tool always available to him. Constantine is capable of killing people, but just barely. Even when he knows it's absolutely necessary, he will hunt for every other possible option, often until the time is up. He's incapable of killing a child even when he knows that child will grow up to destroy the universe. Until his life or the life of a loved one is directly threatened, he has trouble acting. Counterintuitively, this means that Captain Jack feels directly responsible for any death that he orders or obliquely causes, while Constantine in much more picky about what blood he carries on his hands.

Third, trauma - Captain Jack exists to embody heavily dramatized impossible traumas that, while they have analogy to real people's problems, exaggerate and contort them until they're safe to deal with in a fantasy context. Constantine does the opposite. Constantine's traumas are almost exclusively meant to be very real, very concrete things that happen directly to real people, and where his reactions to them are realistic, even when they involve magic (in either causing or healing the trauma). Captain Jack's bad memories are symbolic, metaphorical, allegorical. Constantine's bad memories are relatable and believable. (Both of them are direct explorations of common queer experiences, though.)

Fourth, powers - Constantine is almost entirely self-taught. While he did obtain mentors and friends to help him expand his repertoire later in his career, this was after he learned everything that was dangerous with no guidance, oversight, or support. He's often said to be a relatively weak magic user, and most of his impressive skill comes from the fact that he had to learn loopholes and exploits to do everything he ever did, from the ground up, instead of following any established pattern of magic users. That and making terrible bargains with all manner of more powerful creatures, most of whom only ever had his worst interests at heart. Captain Jack, on the other hand, was taught rigorously by many different organizations. He was considered exceptionally skilled, a prodigy even, and always enjoyed easy support from his colleagues. Everything else is from one specific accident born from love.

Fifth, self-image - Captain Jack has lots of regrets and lots of wishes, but in general, he thinks of himself as someone who's trying to do good things. He doesn't think he's the worst person just because he's not the best person, and he always strives to improve, because he believes in himself. He's suicidal mostly because he thinks it's unnatural the way he exists, and because of grief. Constantine hates everything about himself at all times. He's trying, he's desperately trying, but he doesn't think he's capable of turning himself into someone who deserves to be alive. He has all kinds of internalized bigotry that he'd be horrified if anyone else said, but believes is true about himself. He firmly believes he is the worst person who ever existed and yet he's afraid to die.

Themes Constantine focuses on that Captain Jack doesn't:

addiction

religion

sexual abuse and recovery

poverty/systemic classism

solidarity and mutual aid

footie

Themes Captain Jack focuses on that Constantine doesn't:

exile/cultural history erasure

chosen family

the ethics of coverups

the universalism of violence/the universalism of kindness

ties through time and place

workplace sex

Themes that both focus on:

grief and loss

alienation from wider culture

power and responsibility

star-crossed love

how good and evil on a grand scale interacts with the personal

monsterfucking

You seem like you would know the answer to this question, are Jack Harkness and John Constantine the Same Guy? I know they're from different things and only have the vaguest dashboard osmosis idea about either of them but the instinct is so strong. What is causing this? Help

you've osmosed them into a single slutty bisexual disaster man that doesn't mind his own business and refuses to die

[sophsbookstore]

Floral Encounters

Charles Leclerc x Florist!reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Masterlist can be found in navigation!

Word count: 1340

A/N: lmaoooo i've been gone for a really..really long time…but guys we are so back! New year, new fanfics that need to be written. Requests are still very much open if you have anything you wanna see, sorry for the absence and happy reading!! <33

The little flower shop nestled on a quiet street in Monaco was a peaceful haven among the hustle and bustle of the city. Inside, the soft scent of roses and lilies mixed with the gentle hum of classical music playing from an old speaker in the corner. The owner, Y/N, was behind the counter, arranging the last few bouquets of the day. She loved her shop, the routine of it, the way it allowed her to be surrounded by beauty every day. But most of all, she loved the chance encounters—those small moments where someone new would come in, buying flowers for loved ones, or sometimes for no reason at all.

It was a Tuesday afternoon when he first walked in.

Charles Leclerc.

He had been a familiar face on the streets of Monaco for years, though Y/N had never had the chance to meet him. She had seen him in passing at a café or two, but nothing that could spark a conversation. She couldn’t say she was a huge fan of Formula 1, but she knew enough to recognize the man who had become a hero to so many in the city.

He stepped into the shop, the doorbell chiming as it swung open, and for a moment, Y/N was taken aback. She quickly composed herself and flashed him a friendly smile.

“Hello, can I help you with anything?” Y/N asked the man in front of her

Charles paused for a second, as if processing her presence. His green eyes flicked over the shelves filled with flowers, before landing on her. His lips curved upward in a small, charming smile.

“I need a bouquet,” he said, his accent thick but easy to understand. “Something... for my mother.”

Y/N nodded, stepping forward to guide him. “We have a variety of roses, peonies, maybe some tulips... what’s the occasion?”

He scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to find the right words. “No real occasion. I just wanted to do something nice for her.”

The simplicity of it made Y/N’s heart flutter a little. He wasn’t here for a birthday or an anniversary. Just because. That kind of thoughtfulness was rare. She tilted her head slightly, studying him for a second before offering a suggestion.

“Well, if you’re looking for something elegant, I’d recommend a mix of white roses and lilies. They’re classic, timeless.”

Charles raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching as if he was amused by the suggestion. “Timeless, huh? I like the sound of that.”

Y/N gave a small laugh and picked out a few stems, expertly arranging them in a hand-tied bouquet. “The lilies symbolize purity, and the roses... well, they symbolize admiration and love. Perfect for a mother, don’t you think?”

He leaned against the counter, watching her work with an intensity that made her feel a little warmer than usual. “Sounds like you know your flowers,” he said with a grin.

“I’ve been doing this for a while,” Y/N replied, her fingers moving with practiced precision as she wrapped the bouquet in parchment paper. “You get to learn a lot when you’re surrounded by them every day.”

When she was finished, she handed him the bouquet. “Here you go. I hope she loves it.”

Charles took the bouquet, his fingers brushing against hers for a moment, sending a small jolt through her. He didn’t pull away right away. Instead, he looked down at the flowers, his expression softening.

“I’m sure she will,” he said quietly. Then, as if thinking of something, he added with a teasing smirk, “You’ve made this a bit hard to top. Do you take requests?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What do you have in mind?”

“I might need you to help me with another bouquet next week,” he said, his gaze lingering on hers just a little longer than necessary. “But... this time, it might be for someone special.”

Y/N grinned, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “I’d be happy to help,” she said, her voice lighter now, more playful. “Maybe I’ll even throw in a little extra flair for someone special.”

Charles gave her a wink and turned toward the door. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said with a laugh before leaving the shop, the bell above the door ringing again.

The days turned into weeks, and Charles kept his word. Every time he raced in Monaco or elsewhere, he would come into the shop, often with a similar request. Sometimes it was for his mother, sometimes for a friend, and sometimes, he hinted that it was for someone else entirely.

After a particularly thrilling race where he finished second, Charles returned to the shop, his eyes practically glowing with excitement. He was still wearing his racing gear, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice how different he looked outside the car—his intense, competitive energy replaced with something a little more... relaxed.

“Back for more flowers?” Y/N asked as he entered, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

He nodded, though there was a certain hesitation in his usual confident stance. “Yes, but this time, I’m celebrating something special.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, walking over to him. “Oh? What are you celebrating?”

Charles paused, glancing around the shop as if to gather his thoughts. Then, his gaze landed on hers, and a flicker of something unspoken passed between them.

“I’m celebrating getting to see you again,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

Her heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that, but hearing it now, in such a direct way, made it feel like something new.

Y/N smiled, feeling a flutter of excitement in her chest. “Well, that’s a good reason to celebrate.”

He grinned, stepping closer to the counter. “I think so.” He leaned in just a little, lowering his voice. “What do you think? Another bouquet, just to make it official?”

Y/N considered him for a moment, her fingers brushing against a vase of lilies nearby. “I think you’re getting pretty good at this... but how about we make it even more official?”

Charles raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “What do you mean?”

Her smile widened, and she set down the flowers she was holding. “How about you let me buy you dinner?”

He blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback for a second. Then, the corner of his mouth lifted into a grin. “You’re asking me out?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” Y/N teased, her eyes dancing with mischief.

Charles chuckled softly, his eyes not leaving hers. “Not at all.” He leaned forward just a bit more, his voice quieter. “I’d love to have dinner with you.”

Y/N’s heart raced, but she didn’t let the excitement show too much. “It’s a date, then,” she said with a wink.

The dinner was set for a few days later, at a small, intimate restaurant by the harbor. Charles showed up in a simple button-up shirt and jeans, looking effortlessly handsome. They shared stories over a bottle of wine, laughing at each other's jokes and enjoying the easy, warm atmosphere between them. The night ended with a stroll along the water, hand in hand, both of them silently agreeing that it was the beginning of something new.

Charles looked at Y/N, his expression soft. “You know, I’ve been to Monaco many times, but I think this is the first time I’ve really felt like I’m home.”

Y/N smiled, squeezing his hand gently. “Well, I’m glad I could be a part of that.”

“I think you’re going to be part of a lot of things in my life,” he said, his voice sincere.

She couldn’t help but smile at the thought, her heart full. “I’m looking forward to it, Charles. I really am.”

And as the stars twinkled overhead, they both knew that this was just the beginning.

[writingangst]

Friendly Fire

Summary: The aftermath of Simon Riley's paranoia has left the reader with an inner battle of holding onto her anger or making room for forgiveness.

Simon Ghost Riley x Reader

Warnings: mentions of violence and torture, angst, cursing, hurt/no comfort.

Words: 1.3K

Part One

I wasn't planning on posting on this account except for that one off, but since a lot of people liked it, I'm down to give you guys more angst. So, enjoy. (Also, if you want to request anything be sure to message me.)

Whispers and lingering stares were a part of your day to day since you and Ghost got back from the extraction mission. The barracks were filled with theories, the team making assumptions to make sense of the bruising you wore like a collar around your neck. As if you were some damn dog, beaten into submission. You hated every second of being on display and serving as a symbol of what they thought had to have been insubordination.

She must’ve mouthed off to the Lieutenant.

Poor girl was probably put in her place. 

Because Simon Ghost Riley couldn’t do any wrong. Surely the woman must’ve misbehaved to deserve being put in a life-or-death situation by someone she trusted. You couldn’t calm the anger that stubbornly sat in your chest. You wanted to scream. You wanted him in the same position you were in. You wanted the fucking bruising to go away so everyone could stop talking about it, reducing you into a fucking victim.

You were a Goddamn soldier.

Ghost on the other hand had been quiet. Even more so than usual. You would catch his eyes roaming the patches of dark purple and blue he painted on your skin from time to time, turning away when he noticed you looking back at him, your expression stoic. You could sense the tension. The regret. The nasty gut feeling assumed to be guilt swallowing him whole. 

He’d never felt that way before.

It wasn’t a part of your lives. You got jobs done that would make any normal person weep for years. Trauma so consuming, veteran suicide rates were in increase and violent crimes committed by them going up as well. You had no room for guilt or regret. You were machines. It was in the job description, under the fine print. There wasn’t an option to dwell on things, it was either keep pushing or people could die in your line of work. 

Yet Ghost was stuck on that feeling.

And it was becoming harder to ignore. You saw the way his fingers twitched when you flinched from any sudden movement. The quietness that overtook the space when you stepped into any room he was in, like everything suddenly became too heavy to bear. You wanted to laugh from the bitterness of it all. This was the same man that had threatened your life. And for once, it seemed like the monster that made him who he was couldn’t hide behind the skull mask.

You couldn't decide which one was worse though. The silence or the moments you caught him struggling with himself and what he did. But the worst part. The thing that kept you up at night, tossing and turning in a bed that felt more like a grave… Was that you had started feeling sorry for him. For the way his dark eyes would catch yours when you least expected it, as if they were silently begging for forgiveness you didn’t know if you could offer him.

Maybe that was the worst part. There being a chance to be able to forgive, but never forget. Missing his touch and dreading it all the same. The way he tainted something both of you needed. Severing a conection both physical and emotional. Needing him and hating him. It was the same fight within yourself and it made you angry, until you began yearning again. Your own personal hell, a cage he viciously hand crafted to fit you.

I hate you, Ghost. 

It was a mantra. Maybe soon you would start to believe it.

But as night fell on the fourth night, the repetition wouldn’t preserve your sanity. The common area was eerily quiet, devoid of any operative in your wing. The faint hum of the overhead light was the only sound as you sat on the worn couch, eyes scanning the documents in your hands. They were sending you out again. A covert operation. Then, the bitter taste of reality hit you again as you saw his name typed out on the call sheet under personnel.

I hate you.

“I’m sorry.”

You jumped instictivley at the sound of his voice, your head jerking in his direction, slightly to your left, standing within the door frame. His words were clumsy, raw, but there was hesitation in his tone. Like he was scared. Scared of what he did, scared of what you thought of him now. The silence between you both stretched like a taut wire, brittle and poised to snap.

For a fleeting moment, something in your chest softened—a crack in the icy wall you’d built between the both of you. But it was brief. So brief. The softness evaporated almost as quickly as it came, replaced by the old familiar coil of tension in your gut. You straightened, pulling your walls back up.

“So, he speaks.”

“I didn’t want to push you,” he said, his gruff accent thick with something unspoken—uncertainty, regret? You weren’t sure anymore.

You laughed bitterly. “But choking me out is fine.”

Your words were sharp and unforgiving. A hard accusation that was meant to hit him in the chest. The tension was unbearable now, like the moment might snap any second. He didn’t move though, didn’t back down. But you saw it—his jaw tightening, his fists clenching at his sides, the way his eyes flickered to the ground. The frustration was there, the guilt too, but he couldn’t seem to find the words. He was struggling, you could see it.

He hesitated. “I fucked up.”

Raw. Unpolished.

But you weren’t so forgiving.

“You think?” You spat back, your voice filled with sarcasm, every word laced with the bitterness you couldn’t shake.

He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to excuse any of it. I was a paranoid motherfucker and I hurt you. I’m sorry.”

His words landed heavier than you expected. You almost wanted to let you anger slip. To take the edge off, to relax into the moment, maybe even believe him. But you couldn’t. You’d betrayed yourself by awarding him with your forgiveness. Your nostrils flared at the turmoil you felt in your chest, your fingers digging into the documents in your hands with a fierce grip as you attempted to counterfocus the tightness.

“I don’t know what to do to make this right,” he confessed, knowing his words weren’t right. And they never could be. They didn’t carry the weight of what he had done. “I rarely ever apologize. If ever.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “So that should make me feel special?”

“Hardly,” he stated, wincing at your sarcasm, the impact of your words sinking into him like a punch. “I’ve made an even bigger mess of this. I can’t fix it. I know I can’t. I just—” 

—miss you.

You could almost hear it in the rawness of his voice, in the way he faltered. The silence was heavier with the words he didn’t dare utter hanging there. And that just made the anger swell in your chest. The more he held back, the more it stung, the more it fed your fury. The air felt thick around you. Heavy. Your breath shallow, your chest tight, and every beat of your pulse was a reminder of everything he had done. Everything he hadn’t done.

“Yeah?” You locked your gaze with him, the intensity in your eyes unflinching, your voice colder than you thought you could manage. It was steady, but laced with an undeniable edge. “Well, I fucking hate you, Ghost.”

The words slipped out, more venomous than you intended, but they felt good to say. They felt earned. You could see it in his eyes—the flicker of hurt, the way his shoulders slumped a fraction, as though your words physically struck him. But he didn’t say anything. Didn’t try to defend himself. He couldn’t. Not anymore.

The silence stretched, thick and unbearable, but it was better than what had come before. At least now there was nothing left to say.

Nothing left to break.

[etherealrin]

๋࣭ ⭑ four letters.

there is only one thing in the world that can terrify the emperor known as michael kaiser. it contains four letters. it’s a word, an idea, a symbol—some might even call it the crux of humanity. yet kaiser tries to scoff and dismiss it when it becomes inevitably mentioned; no, it wasn’t real, it was just a product of fairy tales. ironically, it’s also the one thing he yearns for above all else, placed before his ambition towards football. perhaps it’s because he’s lived so long devoid of it. he doesn’t know what form it should take, what it should feel like, nor where it might come from.

kaiser’s aware that there’s something missing at his core, something stolen from him so many years ago that he doubts if he ever had it to begin with. but when he thinks about those four letters, which he knows is the answer, all he’s met with is an icy chill. it’s the cold gusts of wind which blew through the cracks the walls that haunted his nights spent in hell on earth. it’s the numbness of his limbs and heart after being beat again and again for a crime he never committed. it’s the emptiness of a house he had never considered his home, lifeless although two people lived in it. it’s the sharp sting of broken glass shards littered on the dusty floor, which cut at his feet as he walked shakily towards the front door, leaving but never able to escape. it’s the sleepless nights that a younger kaiser had spent tossing and turning, staring into the dark sky, vowing to himself that the day michael kaiser became a human, he would find those four letters.

beneath the cocky facade and confidence, kaiser is frozen petrified. he’s scared what he’s chasing after is his blue rose; something that doesn’t exist naturally, something impossible for him to obtain. despite standing for making the unimaginable a reality, kaiser isn’t so sure about this one. he’s been conditioned to believe he wasn’t worthy, that he was a consequence, since the day he was born. more than anything, kaiser’s scared that his shitty excuse for a father was right—that no one would ever truly love him.

love; the greatest curse. something that kaiser had only dreamed of. he needs as much as he fears it.

so it’s music to his ears: a whole damn symphony, and so much more than pure ecstasy when those four letters tumble out of your lips. it’s only your warmth that can melt away his frost; it’s only you who can see and love him for everything and nothing. those four letters, once an idea incomprehensible to him, weren’t horrifying anymore. they stop feeling frigid, stop invoking memories he wishes he could erase. when kaiser thinks about the four letters spelling “l-o-v-e” now, he doesn’t see the scared little boy staining a soccer ball with his endless tears; he sees the boy that you love, one that’s braved through every trial and hardship possible, one that turned dreams into reality.

a/n: word vomit again who else cheered! kaiser backstory actually makes more than a few tears fall from my eyes icl…came to me at 12 am i really should have gone to sleep

masterlist.

[laurents-laces]

Only 20 days left until TGR! Here's all my rambling that I couldn't fit on a bingo:

Jean just found out about Elodie's death, Jeremy lost his relationship with his sister, and Lucas is about to lose his brother. I think sibling relationships are gonna be really important in this book. I also hope we get to meet Cat's sister Vivi when she drops off the motorcycle for Jean

So excited for exy with the Trojans! I hope they actually take some of Jean's advice because he's really good at seeing people's strengths and weaknesses. And I hope they interact with other teams more than the Foxes do. It would help Jean see that the Trojans are actually pretty normal and the Ravens are the weird ones. He still thinks it's the other way around

Jean thinks of Kevin as Riko's Queen or the Court's Queen a few times in TSC. Does he see that title as a symbol of independence like Kevin does, or does he see it as Kevin still having a place in Riko's perfect court?

I'm obsessed with the way Jeremy narrates events without telling us a single one of his emotions. Does he miss having his little sister in the audience when he plays a big game? Did he have feelings for any of those boys who were "exactly the kind of guy [he] was prone to trip himself up over"? Why hasn't he dated anyone before? He loves USC because it feels private and safe, so does he not feel that way at home?

I need to know what Jeremy's family did to him. He calls his mother the devil and dislikes his last name and gets angry just at the mention of his step grandfather. It's such an extreme reaction from a guy who barely says anything negative about anyone

I feel like Jeremy's family issues are gonna be too weird for anyone to predict. But I think his part of the story is going to be less about redeeming himself from past mistakes and more about letting his friends support him instead of acting like he's fine all the time

I think Jean might really struggle with holding back when they play against more violent teams. Would suck if it costs him a spot on the starting lineup, but maybe it would be good for him to see that there aren't any consequences for failing to be the best

I think Neil and Andrew might be too busy with Aaron's trial to go with Kevin to California but Jean thinks of them too often for them to not be relevant at some point, whether now or in book 3

I think Jean saying he learned the hard way not to look at another man too long has something to do with Kevin and the incident his freshman year. It's really weird that Riko only told Kevin half of the truth of what happened

"You cannot save me from what came before, and you help neither of us by trying to dig up those graves. Leave Evermore to me and Dobson... Help me survive what comes next.” I hope his friends listen to him about this. And I hope he starts actually talking to Betsy. He seems like he wants to, he's just worried it won't actually help

The way Jean describes the people he loves is so intense. We got some really lovely thoughts about Kevin and Renee from him in TSC, and I can't wait to see how he'll be when he gets to know Jeremy better. I don't think they'll be able to beat "you are a pipe dream" but I'd be thrilled to be proven wrong

[mach-talk]

JRWI fans, tell me if this is something that makes sense to you: I think Dakota Cole is the first superhero in a VERY long time to feel like an actual superhero.

⚠️Spoilers ahead for both seasons of Prime Defenders, if you haven’t finished it already, what are you doing here?! Go watch it!!⚠️

I think Grizzly did a phenomenal job in his research of superhero media before making Dakota, and that research really paid off for how real Dakota feels as not just a hero, but as a person. Season 1 made me fall in love with the characters and the story, but as an avid Marvel skeptic, season 2 made me believe in the superhero genre again.

I’ve talked about my disdain for modern superhero movies before, but to condense it, I feel like they don’t really feel like HEROES as much as “the lesser of two evils in a fight that’s destroying a city.” A lot of modern heroes feel too gritty and gloomy, not the symbols of hope they’re meant to be, but only focusing on the reluctance of their position.

Dakota Cole’s story is different to me: we’re able to see all sides of it, the good and the bad, and spend enough time in those moments to feel what he feels. His story feels so perfect to the Hero’s Journey, both in what we start out with and what we learn along the way.

First and foremost, I’m grateful to see heroes that WANT to be heroes again, not just to save one person or some moral obligation, but for the sake of wanting to do good and help others. Prime Defenders as a whole is such a breath of fresh air in the superhero genre for its message, and it gets to the heart of what makes superhero movies good. It feels, for lack of a better word, colorful. In a world of low light and gritty heroes making hard decisions, we get moments like the fight for New Haven where the heroes came together with the sword to defeat the planet, or the showdown with Powerhouse, while we get silly moments like the Wasp Vs Bee debate or the chaos portal in the Winnebago. That doesn’t mean we don’t get dark or gritty scenes, of course- I’m still deeply impacted by Ashe’s sacrifice to save everyone, William’s spiral with his brother, and (most relevant to this rant) Dakota’s surgery. But because we got to see the whimsy and the heart behind the heroes, it just made all of those moments so much more impactful.

Dakota Cole, though, feels to me like the result of dissecting the superhero genre and finding what makes it so appealing and meaningful to people. He is, upon first glance, hopeful and confident, optimistic perhaps to a fault, and wants to see the best in people and bring out that goodness. He starts with a very rigid view of what good and evil is, but as his mindset shifts, we see him open up to other ideas of what goodness means to him.

You’d think this would immediately fall apart when he goes through the heartbreak and disillusionment of losing someone to a villain, and that’s what we see with Ashe’s loss in season 1. He is clearly devastated by the loss, but is the first to believe that they can bring him back. He even says it as some of his last words to Ashe before he becomes The Trickster- “Don’t forget that you have somewhere to come back to.” After the loss, though, he’s only more motivated to save his friend. He goes to train and get stronger, and is the one to suggest getting him back. Throughout season 2, as well, we see the backstory that had been set up throughout season 1 come back to the front, and how it impacts him not only as a hero, but as a regular person. His love for his aunt, his attitude towards others, his willingness to sacrifice…

The first thing that he did for himself, in my opinion, was the heart surgery to keep himself alive, and even that wasn’t all for him; it was largely to help William rather than just staying alive. But he was so desperate to help others that he found the thing he needed to learn most in order to be the hero the world needed: patience. His heart surgery and subsequent training with Master Cole taught him the patience he needed to put his abilities to use.

But I think what his training arc taught him best outside of patience- the lesson that stuck with me the most- was that it is okay to ask for help. In fact, one of the quotes that still sticks with me is the quote from Master Cole: “Sometimes, we can’t carry the weight of the world alone.” He spent two seasons up until this point trying to carry every burden on his own, but this was a turning point for him. He realized that he has a team for a reason, and that he doesn’t have to protect them, and that allowing them to help him will make everyone stronger.

In my opinion, Dakota had the most personal growth out of the Prime Defenders from S1E1 to S2E40. He lost a lot of the innocence and pure optimism he had before, but the wisdom and patience he gained from it turned his passion for saving people and his genuine desire to do good into a more productive and successful energy that could save more lives than before. Sure, he had his silly moments- the consistent Fortnite jokes during his training arc, the goofiness of creating The Purps, etc. But his humor served to deepen his character, and the balance of genuine care and compassion for others with the humor and the struggles he faced (and still faces) just make him such a deep character.

He’s a silly goofy guy and he is one of the best written characters in modern hero stories.

[novlr]

Weird question here: do I need to describe my character's clothes? Obviously I need to if it's important to the story or setting (if they're wearing a beautiful ruby gown at a ball, or maybe dirty and torn to indicate a fight) but just on a normal day? Do readers need to know what characters are wearing?

As writers, we often get caught up in the details of our characters. We describe everything from their eye colour to their favourite breakfast cereal, and it can be so easy to go overboard with unnecessary description. Describing a character’s clothes is a danger zone for too much description. It’s incredibly easy to get lost in the minutiae and forget the most important element when writing for readers; will they find this interesting?

The short answer

No, you don’t need to describe every piece of clothing your characters wear throughout your story. Like all elements of writing, clothing descriptions should serve a purpose.

Just like clothing in real life, descriptions of a character’s clothes serve a function. This means that your chose in when to describe things should be intentional; usually for the purposes of character development, world-building, setting a mood, social commentary, plot advancement, or symbolic representation.

When should you describe clothing?

Every plot is different, but there are some key moments in a story when knowing what a character is wearing or how they are dressed could be important:

When it reveals a character’s personality or status (e.g. do they favour muted tones or bright, bold colours? Do their clothing choices signify wealth?).

During important story moments or turning points if it highlights that moment’s significance (e.g. wearing black at a funeral, or an academic gown at graduation).

If the clothing affects the plot or action (e.g. Cinderella losing her glass slipper).

When establishing the time period or setting (e.g. historically appropriate clothing descriptions to put readers into the right headspace to appreciate your setting).

If it shows a significant change in the character (e.g. a shy character who likes to blend in suddenly switching to bright colours to display their newfound confidence).

When it symbolises something deeper in the narrative (e.g. a meaningful piece of jewellery, or a bride wearing her mother’s dress for her wedding).

When should you skip clothing descriptions?

Readers don’t need to know what your character is wearing at every moment of every day. The best way to think about it is, if it’s not important to the story, don’t describe it in detail. Usually it’s enough to know that someone is wearing a jumper on an overcast day, and it won’t actually enhance the scene to know it’s a plain black one. Here are some moments when it’s probably not all that important to go into too much detail:

During routine daily activities.

When the outfit doesn’t add meaning to the scene.

If it interrupts the flow of important action.

When it feels like “outfit cataloging” rather than storytelling.

If you’re describing clothes just to fill space.

Tips for how to effectively describe a characters’ clothes

Make it matter: Make sure your descriptions reveal something about the character, whether that be a personality trade, social or economic status, or their cultural background.

Illustrate change: Highlight a change in your character, whether that be something external or a internal, emotional change.

Create uniqueness: In the case of a protagonist, especially, the way they dress can make them unique. It can contrast them with other characters.

Set something up: Describing a character’s clothes can be used for foreshadowing a future plot point.

Be selective: You don’t need to describe a whole outfit. Instead, you can focus on one or two distinct pieces, items that have significance, clothing that affects movement or action, or elements that reflect the character’s state of mind.

Don’t info-dump: You should try to seamlessly weave descriptions into the narrative. Describe actions and interactions, use sensory language, have other characters react, or let clothing be a part of a scene’s atmosphere.

Common pitfalls to avoid

There is a fine line to tow when describing a character’s clothes in a way that is effective. And essentially, the pitfalls happen on either side of that line. You will either over-describe or under-describe. So what does that mean?

Over-description

Listing every item of clothing, regardless or relevance or usefulness.

Describing outfits for every scene. We rarely need to know what all characters are wearing at all times.

Including brand names unless relevant. Sometimes, a character’s brand loyalty might be important to the plot, but if it’s not, it’s unnecessary, and potentially alienating to readers.

Getting too technical with fashion terminology. Most readers won’t be au fait with the specifics, so make sure you write in a way that most readers can follow.

Focusing on clothes at the expense of action. Nothing will bring an action scene to a screeching halt faster than a detail dump.

Under-description

Don’t ignore clothing when it would be significant. If a character has undergone a significant personal change, then it would make sense to describe how that might also affect how they look on the outside.

Don’t miss opportunities for characterisation. A lot of a character’s personality can shine through their clothes, so if you’re telling the kind of story where that could be relevant, make sure you don’t miss those opportunities.

Don’t forget period-appropriate details in historical fiction. Research and authenticity are essential in certain genres, and clothing can go a long way to setting the scene.

Don’t overlook clothing that affects movement or action. The clothing a character wears can hugely affect the believability of a scene. If a character has just stepped out of a coronation and is dripping with heavy jewellery, it wouldn’t make sense for them to go for a leisurely swim.

Don’t skip descriptions that could build atmosphere. If it’s cold and dark, make sure your characters fit into that setting. Or you can use it to contrast your character and invert expectations (like a character who only ever wears shorts, even in winter).

When in doubt, ask these questions:

Does this detail reveal character?

Will it matter later in the story?

Does it help readers understand the world?

Is it necessary for visualisation?

Could the scene work without it?

Like all descriptions, clothing is a tool that you can use. Describe clothing when it serves your story and skip it when it doesn’t. The key is to make every detail count, whether you’re describing a ball gown or a worn-out pair of sneakers.

The bottom line is that you must trust your instincts and your readers. They don’t need a detailed inventory of every character’s wardrobe, but they do appreciate thoughtful details that enhance their understanding of your characters and story. When in doubt, less is often more, but make the descriptions you do include count.

[katuschka]

Stargazers

Jake Kiszka x f!reader 1.560 words

/#gvfvalentines2025 – watching the stars/

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings (are spoilers): disappointment, Valentine's dinner gone wrong, tension, tooth-rotting fluff, kissing, tears, descriptions of vast spaces, comfort

“Please, just stop it already. I’m here. We’re here. It’s a date. Could you at least stop making those faces?” Jake downed his glass of wine and huffed through his nose. Now it was him making faces.

I tried, but I couldn’t help it. No matter how much I tried to rationalize it and just enjoy myself, I felt disappointed. And – seeing his annoyed face and seeming lack of understanding – almost miserable. He took me to a fancy restaurant – something which I never insisted on. What I really wanted was to spend the day with him. One whole day. Just once! I made the plans, I bought the tickets! All he had to do was to show up. And he did not. 

And thus we ended up eyeing each other sourly over a candlelit dinner. The food was delicious, but we lost our appetite. 

“You know, I even took a day off,” I mumbled reproachfully, while trying to murder the caramelized pear with my fork. 

Jake leaned back on his chair and started tapping his fingers on the table. Clearly, I was making him uneasy. Well, good…

“I already apologized. It was an emergency meeting.” 

“Jake, you’re a rock musician, not a member of a war committee. And the planetarium was much more important than this.” I should have gone alone. If he can prioritize his own obsessions and hobbies, so should I. I had been making compromises all the time. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I know I screwed up. I tried to leave, but they wouldn’t let me. And you know I’m not really into this kind of stuff.” 

By ‘this kind of stuff’ he meant conventional romantic gestures, no doubt. The problem is that I never demanded it in the first place. 

My eyes fell on the bouquet of blood red roses that lay on the table on my right. They were pretty, but I could do without them. What’s the point, anyway? What is it supposed to symbolize… to kill a flower? I already mourned how they would inevitably fade under my watch. Jake knew this about me, and therefore I knew it was a last minute, panicked purchase. “But that’s the point Jake. Me neither. I don’t need expensive wine, and I don’t need you to dress up like that… you look fantastic, by the way.” It made him smirk, but he refused to look at me, and my heart sank. I definitely didn’t want to make him feel like nothing was good enough for me. I just wanted him to understand. “All I wanted was to watch the stars with you,” I added mournfully. 

The sentimental confession contained in that last sentence was like opening the door to all the feelings I had been trying to suppress all day or maybe even longer. I felt suddenly overwhelmed. “Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.” I felt the table perhaps too quickly, but I didn’t want him to see me like that, on the verge of tears. I still wasn’t completely sure they were justified, because Jake DID try to make it right. He DID apologize, and made amends. I just still felt that way. 

When I came back, composed enough to at least try to save the rest of the evening, I found our table already cleared and him standing next to it. I internally braced myself for another round of this passive-aggressive emotional fight, but he just smiled and offered me his hand. 

We drove for nearly an hour, leaving the city far behind, spending the whole time pretty much in silence. It was a pleasant kind of quiet, though. Jake was humming something that sounded a bit like Bowie and I just got lost in my thoughts. It was a clear, cloudless night and the muffled sound of the engine almost lulled me to sleep. I barely noticed that we exited the highway…

“Are we leaving? What is this?”

“It’s a surprise. Just please, come with me.” He simply led me to his car, opened the door for me and soon we were on our way to god know where. I asked him, but he wouldn’t tell me, just mumbled something about Josh ‘mentioning it once and then he remembered’… It didn't make much sense. 

Jake suddenly stopped in the middle of some field road pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Confused, I watched him turn off the lights, unfasten his seatbelt and get out of the car. He obviously expected me to do the same, because when I didn’t move, he walked around the vehicle and once again opened the door for me. 

“Jake…? You know, if you wanted to get rid of me, you could have just dumped me,” I tried to joke, but I think I must have looked and sounded alarmed, because he took and kissed my hand with a wicked smirk before he motioned to me to follow him outside the car. 

“Nothing like that baby, I’m simply fulfilling your wish.”

I understood what he meant the moment I straightened and looked around… or looked up, to be more precise, since there was nothing around to look at anyway. The sight took my breath away. We were far away from the city lights, so light pollution was significantly lower here. There were almost no trees around. Above us only sky, as the wise man once sang. 

Have you ever really looked at the night sky? I mean REALLY looked at it, as in trying to understand what you’re actually seeing… I’m pretty much a city girl, so my new and growing fascination with the Universe was based mostly on books and documentaries so far. I had seen the stars before, of course, but that was mostly just a few shiny dots on black nothing. The sea of wonders that was now extending above me took my breath away completely. 

All those feelings I had had while learning about planets and supernovas, quasars and different galaxies, it was all multiplied now as I watched the indescribable vastness of space with mixed feelings of awe and happiness and dread…

“Jake…,” I whispered, “this is so beautiful.” My eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness around us, so when I looked at him, I could make out the outline of his profile, illuminated only by the tiny lights above. 

“I knew you’d like it… oh! Wait a minute.” He let go of my hand and disappeared behind the car, only to return a moment later with binoculars and a blanket that he kept folded up under his right arm. 

“It’s not much, but better than nothing. I tried it once…,” he tried to explain as he handed me the binoculars. “See the Pleiades there? We can see just seven of them with the naked eye, but try this.”

I did… and gasped. It felt almost like discovering a brand new reality. I must have spent a few whole minutes staring just at that one “tiny” spot. 

We were not dressed for an outdoor trip like that and I felt my heels sinking into the half frozen, muddy road. I started shivering too. Jake unbuttoned his coat and wrapped us both in it before he spread out the blanket with one swish of his arm and threw it over us. 

I leaned against him and rested my tilted head on his shoulder. It gave Jake an easy access to my exposed neck and he planted a soft kiss on my jugular, making me shiver again. 

“It’s funny how many cute names those coincidental star clusters have… Seven Sisters. They’re so far away from one another and yet they truly look so close from here. Some people call them ‘Chickens’, did you know that?”

“No…” was all I managed to whisper back. 

“Yeah, I think it’s all about making it less frightening and more familiar. When you name something ‘a flock of chicks’, you can forget that in reality, it’s a huge mass of deadly gasses in an inexplicably vast space… It somehow puts it on the same level with our daily reality, making it less irrelevant and mundane.”

It was exactly how I felt, and he was putting it to words. We were so tiny, so insignificant, and yet he meant EVERYTHING to me, simply because he was Jake. My Jake. 

“I think it’s the same with love,” he continued. “Love and hate are complex, abstract ideas, hard to understand sometimes, and often scary. Yet the names we gave them, respectively, make the difference. Pronouncing ‘love’ feels like getting ready for a kiss. But hate? You huff the word through your nose with disgust. We embraced love. We write poems and songs about it, all of it only to disguise the fact that it's a frightening concept...”

“Do I frighten you, Jake?” I asked tentatively.

He kissed my hair and then pressed his lips on my earlobe. “No, not you. You’re real. I can feel your heartbeat. You have a face. And a name. Your mind is a home, and your soul the hearth.”

I didn’t even realize I started crying, not until I could taste the salty tear on my upper lip. Jake held me tight, with his arms wrapped firmly around my shivering body. I was no longer trembling because of the cold. “I love you, too.”

@thewritingbeforesunrise @fleet-of-fiction @writingcold @lvnterninthenight @its-interesting-van-kleep   @takenbythemadness   @edgingthedarkness @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @jazzyfigz @sanguinebats @josh-iamyour-mama @lyndz2names @wetkleenex-gvf @peaceloveunitygvf @cheersdannyx2 @fleetingjake @lizzys-sunflower @emojakekiszka @gvfmarge @Dayumclarizzel @lipstickitty @clownstarr @gretasfallingsky @musicislove3389 @i-love-gvf @psychedelectable @allof--mylove @sacredsparrow @scarabsinthestardust @ironlotus90 @seenoversundown

[ngage2003]

I would be absolutely thrilled to hear your highschool Jaylex headcanons

SMILES. Ok.

⟦content warning: unhealthy relationships, abusive childhoods, generally two traumatized people behaving badly and like real people, headcanons and some analysis.⟧

As mentioned in this post, I think Alex and Jay are to some extent codependent, with bad habits developed between the both of them due to growing up in the south and being not typical/"weirdos".

I think this based off of just how easily they fell into an unhealthy dynamic in Season 2 of Marble Hornets where I believe Alex plays to what he knows about Jay to manipulate him. (Using his curiosity against him and leading him in circles.)

Jay isn't innocent either though! Really, both these characters are defined by their selfishness, which get exacerbated by the Operator. Alex has a need for control and power, and Jay has a deadly curiosity and passivity/apathy to others in the face of it.

I think Alex's need for control and power comes from his toxic relationship to masculinity, (talked about a bit here,) and a desire to fit in despite being unable to, exacerbated by his home life. I think its very likely his father instilled these beliefs in him by himself being someone who upheld toxic masculinity and make fun of perceived femininity in his son, a sort of abusive "tough love" approach that left Alex hurt and angry and hating himself and his dad.

I think strangely the reason Alex and Jay first connected is because Jay's closed off nature, apathy and his autistic tendencies left him appearing to just not care about masculinity and fitting in, despite being male, a fact which pissed Alex off to no end because it sort of broke his brain. ("Men are naturally good at being masculine and in control and powerful, and I'm not so I am a failure" is a belief instilled in him by his dad, but here is Jay, this apathy filled fly on the wall.)

I think they originally became friends because Alex wanted someone to punch at metaphorically and push around, and Jay easily complied to that, fascinated by Alex's attention on him and his general bristly demeanor which was so opposite to his gilded cage life. (For more on that check out my nepo baby jay post)

I think as time progressed, Alex's anger towards Jay gradually faded a bit, but he always held some sort of residual resentment for how unbothered he seemed with fully conforming to masculinity. Jay to him is as much of a symbol as he is a person, a tick that stubbornly persists in the flesh and ruins Alex's attempts to make sense of things.

That is not to say Jay is feminine necessarily or actively avoiding masculinity, but he is just apathetic and not too preoccupied with being masculine. Along with this, I think he is caring to Alex, especially in highschool, a fact which upsets and confuses the other because "men don't act like that to each other."

I can so clearly see Alex in highschool getting in fights, and then Jay helping patch him up, or buying him something in an attempt to make him feel better because that is just the behavior he has been taught, and Alex briefly thinks about driving his knuckles into Jay's stupid face as he applies an antibiotic to his split knuckles.

I think Jay understands that the grass is not greener for Alex to some extent, but Alex envies him so hard sometimes.

The furniture in Jay's house gets replaced every few months, there is nothing concrete to hold onto and savor there besides this toxic pristine smell of freshness. Meanwhile everything in Alex's house is the same as when he was a young kid, with all the residue of bad memories that come with that, molding under seat cushions and catching in the dusty corners of rooms.

Alex's home is painfully lived in, and Jay's is painfully empty.

I don't think they're ever together romantically, but I think Jay has a brief crush on Alex in highschool because Alex is kind of the only concrete thing in his life. Alex has a crush on him (that he denies) in turn because Jay is the only good thing in his.

They make out on Alex's couch when his parents aren't home, desecrating over a decade of memories with a needy, unsure passion only really held by teenagers and infidels.

Alex is so shocked with himself afterward that he stays in bed all weekend and refuses to ever sit on the couch again, like the memory of what happened there will somehow rub off on him. (Like it will tempt him.)

I don't think Jay ever mentions it again, seeing as Alex ignored him all that weekend, (despite him trying to call because he really wanted to ask Alex about all that, and maybe invite him over to make out again.) But if Alex doesn't want to talk about it, they won't. If he wants Jay to pretend it never happened, he will. Alex leads them after all, and Jay will always follow in his footsteps, always eager to be at his side, no matter how much or little Alex Kralie is left.

I think it is worth noting that, despite coming from different backgrounds, Jay and Alex both go down at the hands of the Operator. Tim and Alex practically come from the same story but they come out the other side as two opposites, while Jay and Alex they both die in the same building.

I think there is some meaning there, with how Alex and Jay are so entangled.

Alex can't kill him for so long, and Jay keeps looking for him always.

I don't know, I think about them a lot.

[danika-redgrave124]

Day 3: Secret Admirer

The warm glow of the candlelight flickered softly in the hall of Night Raven College, casting long shadows that danced across the polished floor. Riddle couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so... distracted. It wasn’t the festive atmosphere of Feburary that had him on edge—no, it was the letter in his hands. A simple white envelope, sealed with a delicate, golden wax stamp in the shape of a heart.

His fingers, stiff as they were, had almost dropped the letter when he first found it hidden under his napkin during lunch. The handwriting on the envelope was elegant, but there was something unusual about it—something that struck him with both curiosity and unease. It wasn’t his usual type of correspondence, and certainly not from anyone he had expected.

Opening the envelope cautiously, Riddle unfolded the paper and began reading. The words were short, sweet, and cryptic, speaking of admiration, of being seen for more than the rules he so rigidly enforced, and of wanting to learn more about him. It was signed only with a small, heart-shaped symbol.

Riddle sighed. It was probably some prank, one of Ace's antics most likely. He shook his head, trying to dismiss the fluttering in his chest. He couldn’t let himself get caught up in something as trivial as a schoolyard crush. And yet… something about the words felt genuine. He wasn’t used to receiving attention that wasn’t attached to his strict discipline or reputation as a Dorm Leader.

As if on cue, Kalim appeared beside him, practically glowing as usual, his smile wide and welcoming.

"Hey, Riddle!" Kalim's voice rang through the air with a cheerful lilt. "Did you get something interesting?" He gestured toward the letter in Riddle’s hand, a knowing glimmer in his eyes.

Riddle blinked, momentarily startled by Kalim's sudden appearance. "You... You know about this?"

Kalim grinned, his expression lighthearted but with a hint of mischief. "Well, I saw you reading it, so I thought I’d come over. It’s kind of a big deal, right? Secret admirer stuff!"

Riddle’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly, his usual composure slipping for a moment. "It's a nonsense letter, Kalim. Someone is likely making a joke at my expense." He tried to sound confident, but even to his own ears, his voice lacked the usual authority.

Kalim laughed, a sound that was like a breath of fresh air. "If it's a joke, it’s a pretty sweet one. I don’t think I've seen someone write a letter like that in ages." His eyes softened as he looked at Riddle. "Whoever it is must think you’re really special." Kalim’s voice was filled with warmth, and for a moment, Riddle felt his heart skip a beat.

"Do you… Do you think so?" Riddle’s question caught him off guard. Kalim's simple honesty, paired with his ever-present smile, made Riddle feel vulnerable in a way he wasn’t accustomed to. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for the possibility of someone feeling that way about him, but the idea lingered, soft and tempting.

Kalim grinned brightly, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. "Of course I do! You’re one of the most determined, intelligent, and kind people I know. Anyone would be lucky to have a crush on you."

Riddle’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. He shifted uncomfortably, but the words felt different coming from Kalim. They were genuine, filled with admiration and not a hint of teasing.

"Thanks, Kalim," Riddle muttered, his voice softening. "I guess... I guess it’s just hard for me to believe anyone would feel that way about me."

Kalim tilted his head thoughtfully, his smile growing even wider. "Well, you’ll never know unless you give them a chance, right? Maybe this secret admirer will be someone who understands you better than you think." His voice held a certain playfulness, yet it was laced with a depth that made Riddle feel like he was truly being seen.

Riddle chewed on his lip, the feeling in his chest now both warm and heavy. Maybe Kalim was right. Perhaps he had been too quick to dismiss the idea of someone admiring him for who he truly was—not just the strict, rule-abiding Heartslabyul Dorm Leader, but the person beneath all that.

"I'll think about it," Riddle said, his voice almost a whisper, as he carefully folded the letter back and tucked it into his pocket.

Kalim beamed, clearly pleased. "Take your time," he said, a light chuckle escaping him. "And if you ever need advice on how to handle a secret admirer, you know where to find me!" He winked and walked off, leaving Riddle standing there, a little dazed but with a smile of his own.

Riddle stared after Kalim, feeling a mix of confusion and something softer—something new stirring within him. Maybe, just maybe, he could let himself entertain the thought of being admired in this way.

After all, it was a feeling he had never really allowed himself to have.

Collage belongs to @frie-ice

@oh-hopeless-heart

I'm also exploring rare pairs in this event, but I wasn't sure if I was writing both Riddle and Kalim in a romantic light or platonic one. It's up to speculation.

[loveless-arobee]

Hey I’m trying to make some AroAllo and loveless aro art for ASAW and I need y’all’s help please!

Firstly, generally, to AroAllos, loveless aros, and especially people who are both: what symbols do you like for your aromanticism? What would you like me to draw? Plants, animals, or anything else you can think of, with or without explanation. I can’t promise to draw everything, but I’d like to do something for y’all, so if you can think of anything, feel free to tell me! I’ll draw as much as I reasonably can (to the best of my abilities) :)

Secondly, I’ve been doing research on that myself but can’t really find anything: for a drawing I have planed, I need a flower (or plant in general) that is associated with lust, sexual desire/passion, or something similar, preferably without being mostly associated with love before that. If any of you know anything about that type of stuff, please tell me! I’ll continue to try to find something on my own but I haven’t had any luck yet.

Thank you!

[quibbs126]

Maybe I’m just being lazy but screw it, I don’t have much else to add to this page, or that I will add, so page now

As stated prior, this AU now has the name of Transformers X, and this page is pretty much just me trying to make various designs for characters

I say try because while I got Jazz and a design for Bumblebee, I kind of gave up by the Starscream design, or I just didn’t know how to finish it

I guess let’s just go through what’s here

So first we have Bumblebee. I gave him a visor, but I don’t know if I want to keep it, because honestly I’m giving too many characters visors at this rate

I do like how round he is though, and I like his horns

I also decided I need to give characters other gem shapes, which I did here with Bee. I gave him the two on his chest to mimic headlights, and one on his head because why not

I have no clue what his role in the AU is. I know he’s an Autobot, and he probably has some connection with Optimus, but I don’t know what specifically he does? Originally I was planning on him being Optimus’ support bot, but I ended up finding Jazz a better pick, so I don’t know what to do with him now

Speaking of which, on to Jazz. I already explained stuff about him prior, how he’s semi based on his TFA design. The red circle gem is supposed to be where his Autobot symbol is, but honestly I might change the shape. I don’t know how much I like the circle on him. The circle shoulders can stay though

By Jazz I realized I should probably be more elaborate with the arms, but I still need more time to figure out how specifically to go about that

And as for his role, as stated he is Optimus and usually Megatron’s support bot. By which I mean, guy in the HQ that’s giving the bot out field and opponent data, as well as helping with strategies

I said he has a casual thing going with both Optimus and Megatron, but honestly, I might take it out. I thought it was funny, but I’m not sure how much I like it genuinely. Not that I don’t think the ship could work, it’s just that maybe I’ll shelve it here. I do kind of like it though still, at least on Optimus’ end. The polyamory’s so there’s no cheating, because I’ve decided megop is official here

And then we get to the unfinished designs

So with Starscream, I didn’t really know how to translate his helmet design into Mega Man-esque format. So I went looking for characters to maybe get some pointers on how to do so, and I ended up finding Gate, who basically became my main inspiration for this Starscream

I just thought the helm design really fit Starscream, and I mean I can use the flashback Gate for scientist Starscream too

But then during my sketching I was like “does that really look like Starscream?” Like he looks like a Mega Man character, but to me I’m not sure he’s recognizable as Starscream

I also didn’t know what to do for his body, since the gem was supposed to be in place of his cockpit, nor was I sure on his arms or how his wings work

So I decided he’s to be shelved for now, maybe I can make a better design later

Then I decided to do a small head design for Skyfire. As is he isn’t really going to be in the AU, since he’s currently in stasis, but might as well

He’s fine, I just have to figure out his body

Then we have a semi-sketch of Soundwave, who’s mainly based on Vile because I feel like the shapes work for him

I was trying to add something to his head to make him look more Soundwave, but they didn’t turn out right. Maybe my issue here is leaning too much into the Vile helm style

All I know is he is very square

And I think that’s mainly it on this round of AU stuff. It really isn’t that much, I’ll be honest, but this is from like, the past few days where I’ve been doing a lot of work, and I haven’t had much creative juice. Hopefully by Thursday or Friday I have more substance

Honestly I just want to keep drawing Megatron and Optimus, but I know I should expand the cast. But maybe I should just do what I want instead, since all of this is self indulgent anyways. I do need to modify Megs’ design now since I’ve decided he has circle shoulders now

[goodbyeyellowbrickcloset]

"Taylor Doesn’t Easter Egg That Deeply"—Are You Sure About That?

Today, I got the question:

"Can I ask—have you ever considered that you’re making all this up and Taylor doesn’t Easter egg this deeply? Like what if you’re just wrong and she doesn’t give a fig about The Wizard of Oz and wore this dress because she liked it? What if it’s not a performance? What if she’s straight and isn’t leaving clues about her sexuality in her clothes and jewelry? Please answer because I genuinely want to know if it’s ever crossed your mind."

I appreciate the curiosity, and yes—I have considered that possibility. But here's the thing: Taylor Swift has spent years openly admitting that she obsessively layers hidden messages into her work. Not just lyrics. Clothing, jewelry, set design, interviews, social media posts—even her fingernail color.

So rather than answering this with my own opinion, let’s let Taylor herself explain how deep she goes with Easter eggs.

Taylor Swift on Easter Eggs (Straight From Her Mouth)

📺Watch Here: Taylor Swift Reveals Her Easter Eggs About TS7

💬 Taylor’s Own Words:

"Hey, guys, it's Taylor Swift, and today I'm going to talk to you about Easter eggs… No, not the bunny pastel Easter eggs, although I really do love that aesthetic right now. I'm loving pastels. But the Easter eggs I'm gonna talk to you right now about are the kind of cryptic, message-sending Easter eggs. When you're watching a movie or music video and you notice something in the background, and that something leads to, sort of, behind-the-scenes information, that's an Easter egg. So I love to communicate via Easter eggs. I think the best messages are cryptic ones, so I'm going to lead you through my favorite kinds of Easter eggs to lay."

Easter Eggs Can Be Worn—Clothing & Jewelry

"Easter eggs can be left on clothing or jewelry. This is one of my favorite ways to do this, because you wear something that foreshadows something else, and people don't usually find out this one immediately, but they know you are probably sending a message. They'll figure it out in time. Lots of examples of this exist over the history of my career, which I hope they have put near my face."

→ So when I make a post analyzing the symbolism of her wearing a ruby-red dress after a decade of Oz references, I’m following Taylor’s own rules of engagement. If jewelry and fashion are deliberate in her world, why would we assume it stops at queerness?

Even Her Fingernails Are Easter Eggs

"A specific way you can leave Easter eggs is on nails. I'm not doing it right now... I just like glitter, but, there was a specific occasion where I did a Spotify vertical video for Delicate and I painted my nails the exact color tones that I wanted the next album to be. Some people picked up on it immediately, others picked up on it a few months down the line, but it made me feel nice to know that, ya know, when you plan something that far in advance... you're actually kind of just flexing on planning.... you're really just like, 'I planned this two years in advance.'"

→ If she can use her nail polish to foreshadow an album two years in advance, what makes you think a dress—on the music industry’s biggest night, after years of known Easter eggs—wasn’t a deliberate choice? Beyond the obvious, her boyfriend's football team's color??

She Uses Set Design & Symbolism to Hide Messages

"Another way that I really like to use Easter eggs is that I like to plant them in set design for photoshoots or music videos. I like to, uhm, I like to put coded messaging, sort of, uhm, you can see like a sign on a building or something on a wall, graffiti, a code that has me opening a door could be something significant..." "Another way that an Easter egg can express your message is through symbolism. So, a lot of the time I'll pick something that I think symbolizes something else. Like, I'll pick a snake as sort of the mascot for uhm ya know, feeling misunderstood, or ya know, being somebody that is not going to strike unless they're stepped on. Or, a butterfly, which is like kind of just breaking free of that kind of uhm, that darkness, and ya know, fluttering into the light. Or, a palm tree, I did a post on my Instagram and I posted 7 palm trees and I posted it on the day I finished my 7th album. A palm tree symbolizes rebirth, new beginnings, positive energy, so..."

→ So if she explicitly picks visual metaphors to represent deeper messages—why would we assume that her history of referencing Oz, queer-coded literature, and decades of hidden storytelling suddenly doesn’t matter?

Her Love for Easter Eggs Is a Decades-Long Tradition

"I really started doing this in music videos much more during the Reputation album because I wasn't doing interviews and I still wanted to be able to communicate messages to the fans and so the Easter eggs really went into overdrive. I think the most Easter egg-y video of my entire career thus far is Look What You Made Me Do ... LITERALLY THE WHOLE VIDEO IS JUST EASTER EGGS. THERE'S LIKE THOUSANDS OF EASTER EGGS. THERE ARE SOME PEOPLE STILL HAVEN'T FOUND. IT WILL BE DECADES BEFORE PEOPLE FIND THEM ALL!"

→ You heard her. Decades. If we’re still uncovering hidden meanings in her work from 2017, why would we assume there isn’t meaning in what she does now?

And Then… This Little Slip-Up

"Another way you can drop hints and leave an Easter egg is hints in print. I'll do an interview that's supposed to come out way before something else that is supposed to come out and I'll foreshadow this thing that's supposed to come out in this interview that I do that comes out way before this thing comes out."

👀 Say “come out” one more time, I dare you.

→ It’s almost poetic. She could have phrased this any other way, but she didn’t. Why?

Capitalizing Random Letters in Lyrics for Hidden Messages

"I thought, why not capitalize random letters and see if the fans figure out that if you take all the random letters and you put 'em together, it spells out little codes, secret messages. It could be one secret message per song, but then in other albums I had it, I had a secret message, like a story that would go throughout all the lyrics. I like this because to me it makes people read the lyrics, it makes an album more of an event. Easter eggs are a way to really sort of expand the experience of seeing something or hearing music."

→ So when we talk about Easter eggs being embedded in the very structure of her albums, we're literally playing the game she created. And yet, somehow, people still act like this level of depth is a reach.

The Classic Taylor Easter Eggs—13s & Cats

"The last thing I will mention is my go-to Easter eggs: These are things that may not lead to something in the future but they're just a tribute to my love for them. Those things are 13's and cats. If you see a cat in symbolism in my Easter egg situation, that's just cause I love cats. It's really that simple. Sometimes it means nothing other than just, like, reminding you how much I love cats. Also the number 13... really close to my heart. I will pick dates, I'll pick really important dates just because the numbers of that date add up to 13. It rules my life, so, uhm, ya know, any Easter egg fiend has their go-to's... those are mine."

→Of course, there are some Easter eggs that don’t lead to deeper meanings—Taylor even says so herself. But the key phrase here is “go-to” Easter eggs. These are her defaults, her personal symbols, the things she sprinkles in just because she loves them. That’s the whole point—she differentiates between casual tributes and intentional clues.

So when hetlors inevitably try to use this quote to say, “See? Not everything is that deep!”—they’re missing the bigger picture.

If some things are just for fun, that also means other things are deliberate. She literally told us how to tell the difference. Taylor’s Easter eggs aren’t random—they follow patterns, themes, and storytelling structures. If cats and the number 13 are her signature stamps, that doesn’t erase the documented history of her planting meaningful, layered symbols in her lyrics, visuals, and public appearances.

So no, every cat she posts isn’t a clue. But a decade of recurring visual and lyrical motifs tied to queerness, hidden love, and coded references to historically queer works? That’s not the same as “I love cats.”

This isn’t an all-or-nothing game. Some things are just aesthetic. Some things are artful misdirection. But some things are very, very real.

Her Conclusion

"So thank you so much for sitting down with me to talk about easter eggs, which I'm sure I enjoyed much more than you did. My cover of Entertainment Weekly is out. So if you wanna check that out, who knows, there could be easter eggs all throughout that thing, you just ya know, ya never know with me. See ya!"

So, Back to the Original Question:

Does Taylor Swift “Easter egg that deeply” about The Wizard of Oz?

If we take her at her own words—yes, she Easter eggs that deeply about everything.

She leaves clues for the people who want to see them. And many of us do.

Now, I’ll leave you with a question of my own:

👉 What’s your favorite queer-coded Easter egg in Taylor’s work? Drop it in the comments! 👈

[crescencestudio]

How do the LIs feel about matching or connected tattoos?

✨ Matching/ Connecting Tattoos

Kayn; wouldn't want anything too showy but would love some kind of quote or word that u two could have that connected u two (like love in each of ur languages or something)

Druk: thinks a connecting tattoo would be the sickest thing ever. can be as big as u want it--a sleeve, one up the thigh, across the ribs, on his tits. the world is ur oyster

Fenir: not sure if he would want a tattoo ever. it would take a lot of convincing if u wanted it but could be convinced for a small one like behind his ear or something

Etza: would love a small matching tattoo with you. would like if the placement was sentimental and easily visible. like a star on ur pinkies or something (symbolizing pinky promise)

Kuna'a: this one is specific (he's such a brat so ofc he would demand something specific) but i think he'd like matching celestial ones. moon phases down his spine and u have either a sun or star tattoos ✨

Aisa: would be down for matching sentimental tattoos. so tattoos from places u have been together to, or from sentimental dates (when they propose to u) things like that

[darklightsworld]

So, about the new BeruBara movie in detail. I rushed to watch it, because the visitor present was the above genga copy <333 Pretty amazing, because even the exhibition last summer did not have genga copies in the goods corner (aside from the very expensive ones). In this sense I consider the price of the ticket well spent. It is shrunken to A4 (from B4), so I can even use it in class. Until now I only had a B4 original and several B5/A3 copies, and it isn't convenient to bring those to the uni. Anyway, I hope they will announce the week 3 present soon. I'm not so keen on the Fersen-Antoinette genga next week, but I would get that if the others aren't genga anymore.

This was the good, now onto the bad. It was bad, I was oscillating between cringing and secondhand embarrassment for a good part of the movie. One of the reasons in kind of subjective, but the bigger reasons are objective. First about the subjective: I don't like musicals. I already suspected from the trailer that they might go into that direction, because the theme song screams "musical song™️." That song is so bad too, and it also showcases the typical "let's throw English phrases into the lyrics, because they sound cool" attitude. But the thing is, Berubara takes place in France ^^; Anyway, I guess they might have gone into this direction, because Berubara has been a longstanding success with Takarazuka. Also something I'm not touching with a ten-foot pole. I'm not sure how Takarazuka fans liked the movie, but from an anime perspective, it was weird. This isn't Disney, anime rarely crosses over into musical, and even those instances aren't successful (I don't mean idol series, that's something else). Even this movie isn't actually a full-fledged musical, often it's like image/character songs sung by the cast added for certain reasons. This latter is also questionable, not all of the cast are nice to listen to... (see singer vs. seiyuu made to sing). The opening/theme song resurfaces more than once, and it becomes ridiculous when the uprising Parisians start to sing the same song used to welcome Antoinette in the beginning in a different arrangement. The song inserts are often used to rush through or gloss over things, but I will come back to this later. The symbolism used in some of these scenes is a mess too: art nouveau motifs for a rococo story... or the underwater imagery ^^;;;

Now, about the objective faults. This is not a well-made anime:

Visually, there are some/several money shots, but otherwise the sakuga is a lackluster. They clearly did not have enough money to make it movie quality. The visual style of the manga is old-fashioned, seen as kind of cheesy, and it has its fair share of parodies. It was a question whether the anime can honor this style without turning into its own parody. I don't think it always succeeded, hence my secondhand embarrassment. The musical parts also used a lot of bank shots in the name of "memories," so I guess those were also meant to save money.

The biggest issue is, however, the narrative. You could already see in the trailer that they would cover the whole story. Seeing that Berubara is a 10+ volume long series with 30+ years passing in the story, the movie was... ambitious, to say the least. Unfortunately the movie did not succeed to make it a coherent story. I blame the director too, because even though I think such a approach was bound to fail, it could have been better even among these circumstances.

The movie feels like a summary, or maybe a highlights reel, and I'm afraid it isn't understandable to those who don't know the story beforehand. Quite often the scenes are disjointed without any transition. Many subplots are only visually mentioned, and not even spoken about: the Dubarry issue appears during an image song, the gambling-Polignac-necklace affair during a narration (not mentioned by name), Jeanne does not appear. Rosalie appears in one scene, Bernard as well. Bernard gets named, but you may wonder why, because he does not become important for the plot. Robespierre is a single image too. I think they could have completely erased these, if they were reducing them to these mentions. They kind of feel like sending a message to fans that yeah, we know there's more to the story, but we don't have time to deal with them, so here, have some bullet points. I would have preferred a coherent plot instead... Btw, he noble thief plot is erased, André loses his vision in a different way. Girodelle asking for Oscar's hand seems so out of the blue, like, who were you again? ^^; Fersen is also dropped after they get together with Antoinette (except for a moment mentioned below). It is really bewildering.

As a fan you know what happens in-between, but if you don't know the story, it is difficult to understand the whys and hows. Btw, one of the worst gloss-overs is the Oscar in a dress scene (see above genga). Based on the movie it is already difficult to see where those feeling came from, but when she starts to dance with Fersen it turns into an image song of the four mains, and the unsuspecting viewer has no idea what happened there ^^;;; As mentioned, the musical parts had many repetitions, and with so little time to unfold any plot, they felt a waste of the little available time.

The characters feel very superficial because of rushing through the plot. If you don't know the story, you can only ask why this or that happened. Like, when did Oscar develop feeling for Fersen? And then for André? And so on. There is no show, only tell, and often not even that. Antoinette also loses later character development, and seems to be the selfish queen the French people paint her as. The plot starts to become more coherent after Oscar leaves the court, but even though there is character development for her, most of the political issues that influence her earn barely a mention. So yeah, superficial.

The story ends at the storm of the Bastille (iykyk), and the rest of the history is only narrated in etching style. I would have loved anime style illustrations.

These were the main issues I can remember off the top of my head. I think making a single movie out of this long story was an impossible undertaking to begin with, but it also could have been way better than this. More money for quality animation would have been necessary, also a coherent plot with more nuanced characters.

[qoldenskies]

thinking about this for some art i want to make ,,,,, i think it makes a lot of sense symbolically if mikey kept the long mask tails in the fight with kitsune,, like originally i didnt think it mattered but leo mentioned they made him "look older" and mikey immediately responded "i feel older" and with lines like this in chapter 23

i think its a neat extension of the symbolism, keeping it for just one more night. going back to the old style of his mask is taking off the cloak of adulthood, but he's been irrevocably changed by the experience, still. do u see my vision

also honestly ive kind of been brushing over how the s2 finale events would go in cc (because i think it would go near the same, just the emotional conclusion would be different) but it would be cool if i could do something similar with donnie unlocking his ninpo somehow