#so i don't think he's got this one specifically but for a british guy i know that man has NASA merch

[serendipnpipity]

"I'm the honey, he's the moon"

[guilty-pleasures21]

My friend and I were talking about Jason and she said it would be cool if Jason's S/O got along with Bruce, but I honestly don't see that happening?

I can't imagine being in a relationship with Jason and at the same time thinking Bruce is a nice guy after all

What do you think?

Oh my god! I’m so excited for this! I decided to respond in the form of a story 😉.

Bruce Wayne

Warnings: brief references to loss and trauma.

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

It took nine months for him to finally let you in enough for you to start falling in love with him. 

     You’d first met Jason in the library; specifically the literature section. He’d been standing by one of the shelves, quietly flipping through a copy of Jane Austen’s Emma. He’d had the build of a stereotypical jock, so you’d honestly been a little surprised to see him focusing so intently on the British classic. But those were just your own biases, so you’d quickly tossed them aside in favour of returning to your search. Halloween was coming up, which always put you in the mood for one of your favourite classics: Dracula. It was short and the unconventional style of writing was always a little jarring at first, but you absolutely loved reading about how the characters puzzled through the mystery. You’d knelt down, searching the shelf where the novel should have been sitting according to the alphabetical filing system. But it hadn’t been there. You’d frowned and tsked in irritation, then quickly snuck a glance at the man standing behind you. You’d barely caught him raising an eyebrow at you over the top of his book before he’d quickly lowered his gaze, acting as if he hadn’t even noticed you there. You’d turned back to the shelves and stood up, checking to see if someone had accidentally misplaced the book after picking it up for a quick read … There! On the top shelf! You’d stretched onto your toes, reaching for the spine, but your fingers had barely grazed the edge of the shelf. 

     “Need some help?” You’d turned to find the man’s attention fully focused on you now, his startling green eyes studying you intently. He’d lowered his book, allowing you a glimpse of his rugged features, his wide lips and his crooked nose that looked like it had been broken and reset a few times already. He’d raised an eyebrow at you and you’d realised suddenly that you’d been staring. 

     “Oh!” you’d gasped, embarrassed by your own actions. “Uh, thank you!” 

     You’d stepped aside, giving him the space to get the book for you, and you couldn’t help but notice how big he was - tall and strong and broad. He’d grabbed the book with ease and rolled his eyes at the title before handing it over to you. 

     “Excuse me?” you’d said, frowning up at him whilst cuddling the book protectively to your chest. He’d given you a once-over in response, taking in your small form, so fragile compared to him, then he’d gone back to his side of the shelf, his expression unimpressed. 

     “Nothing,” he’d drawled, opening up his book again. But the amount of sarcasm contained in that single word had only caused your anger to bubble even more. 

     “What’s wrong with Dracula?” you’d asked, a hundred different retorts coming to mind immediately. Your heart had thudded with anticipation as the adrenaline had raced through your system, your defences instinctively locking into place to shield you from whatever hatred might have been about to spew from his mouth. 

     “It’s a little cliche, isn’t it?” he’d suggested, picking up his book again. “Halloween … vampires … You in a book club or something, princess?” 

     He’d flashed you a little smirk, his expression more teasing than unkind, but the condescending nickname had raked over your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “At least his characters are more nuanced! And he develops more of a plot in these few pages than Jane Austen does in any of her hundred novels! It’s not just the same old story of two extremely unlikeable characters falling in love over and over again under a different title!” 

     Jason had flinched at your outburst, taken aback by your sudden vehemence. He’d told you later that he didn’t usually let people off so easily, but he hadn’t been able to get mad in the face of your adorableness. You’d rolled your eyes at his admission, but smiled anyway as you’d curled up into his side. It had taken about a year after meeting him before you’d finally realised the real reason he hadn’t shot back at you - the reason he’d just given you an amused smirk and asked if you’d read all of Jane Austen’s ‘hundred’ novels.

     Because he’d seen in you that same instinct - that same fear - to always be on your guard, to always be prepared for someone to attack you and know that no one would come to your defence but you. 

     And that was how you’d first become friends with Jason Peter Todd. 

It took three months after you’d admitted your feelings for him to yourself before you’d realised that he was never going to be the first one to make a move.

     You’d been sitting on his sofa, watching a movie at his place as was your weekly Friday night ritual. You’d never been able to get into Jane Austen’s books, but you’d always loved the movie versions of her stories. Jason had been sitting beside you, legs spread apart, one elbow on the armrest, his hand propping his head up as he’d focused on the movie. You’d inched closer to him at a cautious pace, slowly closing the distance between the two of you. 

     “What are you doing?” Jason had asked finally, nothing ever escaping his notice. His tone was amused - as it always was when he was with you - but it did nothing to ease the churning of your stomach as you’d gathered up your courage. You’d kept your attention fixed on the television, watching as Alicia Silverstone sat in the exact same position as you, puzzling over how to express her true feelings to Paul Rudd beside her. 

     “I like you.” A blanket of tension had smothered the room at your confession, the only sounds coming from the movie that neither of you were paying attention to anymore. Finally, unable to take it any longer, you’d paused the movie and turned to Jason, your brows furrowed in irritation. “Well?” 

     He didn’t know whether to laugh or bolt in terror. Of course you would be the only person to confess your feelings and then get mad when the other person didn’t respond. But he had that same instinct too: to take your fear and twist it into anger - to defend yourself even before the other person could think to attack.

He’d turned away from you, his leg starting to shake as he’d processed your words. He couldn’t- You couldn’t. You couldn’t like him! Not like that! You were his friend and … he couldn’t afford to f*ck up the best thing had ever happened to him in his life! Even if he’d been finding it more and more difficult to stop his gaze from lingering on your soft curves and your full lips and imagining what you would feel like pressed up against him with absolutely nothing in between your bod- No! No. It was a horrible idea. 

     He’d turned to face you, wanting to list out all the reasons he wasn’t good for you. But you’d known him for too long now and you knew by the defeated slump of his shoulders exactly what was going to come out of his mouth. 

     “Don’t!” you’d exclaimed, jumping to your knees and clamping your hands over his mouth before he could speak. His eyes had widened in surprise at your sudden movements and you’d removed your hands from his mouth, satisfied that you’d startled him enough for him to not argue with you. “I don’t want a list of bullshit reasons about why you think you’re not good enough to be in a relationship or how you think it’s going to mess up our friendship or whatever else nonsense you’ve somehow convinced yourself of over the past few years.”

     You’d rearranged yourself on his lap then, swinging your leg over both of his and sliding your arms around his neck as you’d laid your head on his shoulder. 

     “I love you, Jace,” you’d continued softly, running your fingers through his hair. “We can take it slow - we have the rest of our lives, after all - but I want to make this work. I want us … I want you. I just want you, for the rest of our lives.” 

     You’d sat there in silence for a while, letting him digest your words. And slowly, his heartbeat had slowed and his muscles had relaxed until finally, he’d let his arms come loosely around your waist. “I don’t-” 

     He’d cut himself off as his voice had cracked with emotion, and he’d tightened his grip on you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You’d continued to brush his hair gently, keeping your breathing steady and allowing your weight on top of him to keep him grounded. You’d seen him have panic attacks before and though he’d told you a little bit about what had caused them, he still hadn’t gone into much detail about it. All you knew was that he’d gotten beat up by a bad guy as a kid. He’d seemed horribly uncomfortable even telling you that much, so you’d never pushed him for more information. You were too good to him. 

     “I love you, Jay,” you’d repeated, holding him close to you, trying to physically transfer your love for him from your body into his. Eventually, you’d sat back and moved your hand to his cheek instead. You’d studied his features carefully: his thick eyebrows, his moss-coloured eyes, the tiny scar that cut into the corner of his upper lip … “We can … take it slow …”

     And then you were kissing, your lips brushing each other’s softly as your tongues explored one another’s mouths. You’d let him take the lead, stepping back after being the one who’d made the first move, and soon, your kisses had turned heated: his hands squeezing every curve they ran over, your fingers sneaking beneath his shirt to glide over his hard muscles, your hips moving against one another’s as you'd both started getting excited. Eventually, he’d lifted you up and walked you backwards to his bedroom, your lips never leaving the other’s as you’d pulled each other's clothes off along the way. 

     And that had been the best night of your entire life, no thanks to Jason Peter Todd. 

It took another six months after that for him to tell you the whole story of what had happened. 

     He’d sat on your sofa, leg shaking vigorously, teeth buried in his lower lip as he’d waited for you to say something. It hadn’t been easy, but he’d finally told you the whole story: the day he’d gone to the warehouse, the thrashing he’d gotten from The Joker, the trauma of having his soul forced back into his body … and then having the only person who’d saved him from the streets - who’d promised him that there was something in him worth saving - turn around and tell him that no, there really wasn’t anything in him worth saving after all. Now you understood why he found it so hard to let himself be loved by you - to believe that anyone could ever find something in him worth loving. 

     “Oh, Jay.” You’d wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close to you and murmuring into his hair over and over again that you loved him, you loved him, you loved him. You loved his righteous anger and his concerned protectiveness and his unwavering sense of justice. For you, there wasn’t any part of him that wasn’t worth loving - that wasn’t worth saving. Over and over and over again. Maybe you hadn’t been there to save him then, but you were there to save him now. As many times as he needed someone to. 

Finally, he took you to meet his family. 

     You clasp the man’s hand, fixing him with a wary expression as you shake it. “Mr Wayne.” 

     “Please, call me Bruce,” he insists, fixing you with the same smile he’d probably been trained to wear as a child. You let out a noncommittal hum as your hand falls back to your side and you don’t miss the minute flicker in his expression in response to your cold demeanour. But he brushes it aside and glances over at Jason in question, waiting. 

     He’d told him a few days ago that he was planning to ask his girlfriend to come over for Thanksgiving. The rest of the family had already met you - mostly by stalking Jason and constructing elaborate situations in which they’d ‘casually’ ‘bump into’ both of you on the street or a café somewhere - and they’d all been delighted by his sweet little girlfriend who, at times, seemed to have even worse of a temper than him, but who also appeared to love him more than anything else in the world. Bruce’s heart had swelled at the thought of someone giving his son all the love he deserved - all the love he himself had failed so miserably at giving him - and he’d barely managed to keep a lid on his excitement when Jason had finally mentioned bringing you over. But he’d follow his son’s lead and do only as he said. 

     Jason shakes his head slightly, telling Bruce not to take it too personally, then he guides you to the kitchen, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist. Bruce waits for the rest of his kids to follow, then finally, he joins you all at the dining table. 

     The atmosphere is lively, everyone laughing and joking and sarcastically listing all the things they’re thankful for. You join in the fun, easily fitting in with the rest of his family, but there’s a moment when you pause - when your gaze lands on Bruce and you find yourself taking a moment to study his expression. 

     He hadn’t said much the entire meal, but he’d watched his family with an expression of tenderness - of disbelief - his lips curled into a soft smile as he’d surveyed his loved ones celebrating this day of thanks together. And it struck you: the familiarity of that look. 

     Because how many times had you seen it on Jason? Jason, who would watch you with that same tenderness on his face whenever you did something to make him believe that maybe, just maybe, he really was worth loving. From something as simple as calling him cute when he was annoyed with someone for deviating from his mission plan to the bigger stuff like surprising him with a tray of brownies you'd made from scratch because you knew they were his favourite. He'd spent so long being convinced that he wasn't worth loving that he still couldn't quite believe it whenever you made space for him in your life. And now here was Bruce, giving the large, boisterous family he’d so carefully cultivated the exact same look.

     The moment continues to linger in your mind as you all settle down to watch a movie, Jason's siblings arranging themselves across the various forms of furniture scattered around the room while you cuddle up with him on a loveseat by the sofa. The night soon turns into a game of who can stay awake the longest as one by one Jason's family begins dozing off, their satisfying meal coaxing them into a state of sleepiness. You yourself find it hard to keep your eyes open when you're wrapped up in your boyfriend's big, strong arms, all snuggled up against his broad chest. Eventually, Bruce forces everyone up and to their beds, making sure they're all safely tucked in before retiring to his own bedroom. 

     You lie with Jason in his bed, tickling his scalp in the way that always makes him drowsy, even when he's finding it difficult to sleep. 

     “What?” he asks finally, sensing that you're still awake. You narrow your eyes in thought, combing through all the information Jason has ever shared with you. 

     “How old was Bruce when his parents died?” You knew the story, of course - Bruce Wayne had lost his parents in a mugging incident when he'd been just a child - but you hadn't grown up in Gotham, so you weren't too sure about the details of the case. 

     “Hmm, I think he was eight,” Jason supplies, doing his best to stay focused despite your soothing touch. “Why?” 

     Eight?! That must have been horrible! “And did he … have a lot of other family to take care of him?”

     He was rich - obscenely so - and he had a house big enough to rival the President's! So of course he must have had some wealthy aunt or uncle who'd taken him in after his parents died. 

     “No,” Jason mumbles, starting to lose the battle against sleep. “He just had Alfred.”

     Your heart squeezes in your chest, hurting on behalf of the little boy who'd had to grow up almost completely alone, no parents, no siblings, no one at all who understood his circumstances and gave him a reason to keep living.

     “But … How did he keep living? In spite of it all?”

     Jason hums softly, not quite registering the question as he splays his limbs out across you. “I don't know. How do any of us?” 

     You swallow down the lump in your throat and resolve to forget about it. For now, at least.

     You wake up earlier than Jason the next morning - a rare feat, especially considering that it's almost noon - and head to the kitchen to get some coffee after taking a shower. You're surprised to find Bruce already doing the exact same thing, but he greets you with a welcoming smile. 

     “Need any help?” he asks, giving you enough space to stand in front of the machine. You study the various buttons and knobs, trying to see if you can puzzle it out yourself. But in the end, you decide that it's probably better to just let him handle it. 

     “Um, yes, please!” you agree sheepishly, stepping aside and letting him take over. “Can I just have a latte?” 

     He gets to work making you your coffee, then invites you to join him in the garden outside. You clutch your cup tightly, refusing to make it so easy for him to get into your good graces, but you join him anyway, intrigued to find out more about this man who had forsaken your precious Jason when he'd been just a child. You sit in silence for an uncomfortably long amount of time, refusing to start the conversation first. So Bruce begins. 

     “My kids have told me that they think you’re really good for Jason,” he tells you softly, gazing out at his beautifully staged garden. He turns to you and his gaze bounces between your face and the table as he continues speaking. “I’m glad … I’m glad that he’s finally found someone … who makes it easier.” 

     He chose his words carefully, unsure of how much you knew about Jason’s life, so you decided to enlighten him. “He told me … everything.”

     Bruce lifts his head and fixes you with a surprised - and wary - look. 

     “I know … about his parents and Red Hood and … and The Joker.” Your voice grows soft at the last part, your heart aching at the memory of everything he’d told you. You slide your gaze over to Bruce, who’s lowered his head at the revelation that Jason really had told you everything. You narrow your eyes at the look of shame on his face and the rage begins to take over you. “I know … what you did after he came back - or, really, what you didn’t do. Were your morals so important that you couldn’t … Didn’t you think …” 

     You clench your fists, trying to find the words to convey your emotions. Finally, you push yourself out of your seat, your features hard with the same righteous anger that Jason always wore. “I love Jason! I think he’s the most wonderful, sweetest, most caring human being I have ever known in my life! He deserves the world and everything more! And you …” 

     You dig your nails into your palms then force yourself to take a deep breath, letting the anger pass through you. 

     “I agree.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it. Then he holds your gaze and repeats the words. “I agree with you. Jason deserves everything he never thought … he was good enough for.”

     He clasps his hands together, fidgeting with his fingers as he tries to figure out how to continue. “I …”

     I was wrong? I did my best? I’d do it differently if I could go back in time and fix it? The excuses leaped to the tip of his tongue, but they were all lies. Jason Todd had always been Jason Todd, and it didn’t matter how many times he ran over the millions of different scenarios in his mind: the two of them would have always ended up in the same stalemate in the end. Because Bruce Wayne had always been Bruce Wayne too. 

     Bruce sits back and returns his gaze to his garden, serene and calm and the opposite of everything his life had ever been. “Is he still going to therapy?” 

     You grit your teeth, irritated by the sudden change of topic. But you’ve loved Jason Todd everyday for almost two years now: you knew how to look for the subtle shifts in his expression, the small ticks and habits that gave away his emotions when he was working so hard to hide them. So you don’t miss the tightness of Bruce’s jaw and the tension in his biceps and the minute shifting of his shoes as he probably wriggled his toes in them. 

     “Yes,” you sigh, sitting back down again. “He’s doing a lot better.”

     “Good.”  Bruce nods slowly. “Good. And his … Has he had any attacks recently?” 

     He turns to you, his eyes overflowing with concern, and the final remnants of your anger leave you. “He’s had a few, but they’ve been getting less over time. And he’s gotten better at dealing with them.” 

     Bruce nods again. “I’ve heard about this … tapping technique? Apparently it can help with anxiety if you tap certain places on your body? I can send you a few links if you think it might help him?” 

     And suddenly, he’s not Bruce Wayne, the untouchable billionaire with the practised smile, nor is he Batman, the sour vigilante who thinks he knows better than everyone. He was Bruce Wayne, the little boy who’d lost the most important people in his life and been forced to learn how to grow up without them. The little boy who fought so desperately every single night to make sure that no one else would ever have to go through the same things he had. The little boy who still couldn’t figure out why no one had thought that he was worth saving. Just like Jason Todd. 

     And now you understand. Bruce Wayne had never forsaken Jason Todd. He’d never abandoned him or chosen anyone else over his precious second son. He just hadn’t known how to save the little boy who’d been forced to grow up on his own, who fought every single night to make sure no other child suffered the same fate as him, who had never been able to figure out why he hadn’t been worth saving. He hadn’t known how to save himself. 

     “That’d be great,” you tell Bruce, giving him a warm smile. His lips curl at the ends in response and he sits back again, lighter now that you seemed to have forgiven him. “And Bruce? Thank you for saving Jason.” 

     Bruce lets out a self-deprecating chuckle and shakes his head in disagreement. “I didn’t-”

     “You did,” you tell him, firm in your conviction now. “You saved that little boy from a rough life on the streets. You helped him live again after he came back. You gave me the Jason Todd that I know and love today. So if you think that there’s anything I’ve done to save him, it’s only because you saved him enough first for him to get to me.” 

     Bruce stares at you for a minute, his expression unreadable. Then finally, he smiles. “You know, I guess my kids were right about you after all.” 

     And that was why you and Bruce got along so well, you would think to yourself any time Jason would ask you about it. Because Bruce Wayne had always been Bruce Wayne, but he’d done the best he could to make sure that Jason Todd always stayed Jason Todd; that no matter how hard the world shoved him to the ground, no matter how strongly he believed there was nothing in him worth loving, the world needed Jason Todd. The world needed someone who would do the right thing, even when it was difficult - especially when it was difficult. You smile and ruffle Jason’s hair. 

     “Because Bruce Wayne has always been Bruce Wayne,” you tell him in response. Jason rolls his eyes at your usual vague answer, but his lips curl at the ends like they always do. He lies down, resting his head on your lap, and you stroke his hair softly as the two of you continue watching your movie.

So yeah! Those are my thoughts 🤔😋.

[variousqueerthings]

i do think that specifically david tennant being very openly supportive of the trans community has had an interesting effect -- because usually im kinda like "it is nice to know that people whose work i enjoy don't want me dead" and that's kinda my level of (at this point) quite cynical engagement with what a celebrity or artist does or does not think about transness, because these days it feels like it's almost fashionable for well-known (or post-well-known) people to come out of the wordwork and say what they think about trans people, which can get very stressful in its own way (the amount of headlines that try to be misleading or just plain don't say and so you're just like "ok i guess this week i have to find out if [spins wheel] thinks i deserve rights")

but david tennant has a different feeling to it. and to be fair, there are plenty of people with skin in the game, who absolutely deserve to and ought to speak out on behalf of their children/partners/community/friends/family/etc. and im always happy to see these people speak, and dt is included in that list as well

but david tennant is veeery specific in this here country of terf island, in which the labour party will openly state that it will allow certain book writers to affect their policies on trans people, and that's partly because of the effect above in which "having opinions on trans rights seems to be a celebrity game that keeps you relevant, which includes ex prime minister tony blair making his opinion known (hint, it wasn't a good one)" but also because david tennant is known as a national icon to rival that of whatsherface

he was the main actor on doctor who, in the top three, if not very top of british broadcasting iconography that exists. he's one of this generation's most famous shakespearian actors, the other thing that this country-as-culture is most proud of. he's a mainstay in children's film and tv, a standout in modern british crime drama (broadchurch, des), and that's not mentioning things like jessica jones, good omens, and star wars

this guy has no social media, and some of the biggest cultural capital in the uk today -- labour i believe it was made a twitter joke about him ousting the current prime minister as the doctor ahead of this week's election, because that's an iconic scene from doctor who

which means that when he openly calls transphobes whingy and asks them to shut up, there's a bit of a ripple... i mean what are you gonna do, get angry with the doctor? from doctor who??? the man who played a definitive hamlet????? the man who's just done rave reviewed performances of macbeth???? scrooge mcduck????????? this man who occasionally guests on cbeebies???????????

said prime minister and his party and hosts of transphobes go absolutely crazy every time he makes an appearance wearing new trans ally apparel, as if a. he sees any of that and b. it's a dignified response to a man saying, in essence, "i would like my kid to be safe and happy"

david tennant constantly making these statements, again and again, is a powerful voice in the modern fight for trans rights in the UK, in some ways unfortunately, because you wish trans people could have been heard before it got to this state and that it wasn't about being famous, but to be fair, he's also making that point again and again

it kind of feels like the first time in a long time that there's been proper pushback against transphobia in this country from a perspective that the transphobes can't dismiss so easily -- they can try but like. again, one side is a bunch of raving nonsense-spouters on a joke website who mostly belong to a party that's about to get decidedly ousted from the political scene, the other is beloved national icon and star of stage and screen, mr david tennant

of course, it doesn't hurt that the three main actors of harry potter and everyone else who's majorly involved in doctor who, past and present, is also supportive of trans rights, which maybe there's a separate point to be made about the strangeness of a mainstream tv show becoming a cultural battleground for peoples opinions on equal rights, especially now with ncuti gatwa at the helm, because i think some of what ive seen in relation to dw is more extreme than any piece of cultural media ive been alive to witness bigoted reactions to (including star trek), and ncuti gatwa as a black queer man is taking a hell of a lot of flack that is racist and homophobic

but labour... if you're inviting random artists to give you opinions on trans rights, david tennant is right there, and you know he'd make sure to bring along trans rights activists and professionals to get the space in the room they ought to have had all along

[funniestbitchinfaerun]

Bg3 companions and what vintage fashion era I think they belong in based on vibes only

this post brought to you by my degree in costume design

Gale: with that hair he can only be from the 80s. Remember that Miami Vice guy with the white suits and pastel shirts? Gale would think he looked so cool in that fit but would be an obvious nerd anyway.

Shadowheart: 90s-early 2000s goth. she would wear those spaghetti-strap velvet dresses and chunky black platform boots. she was Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way before Ebony was.

Lae'zel: 1940s. Partly because of the militaristic nature of githyanki culture and partially because i think she would look so gorgeous in one of those Women's Army Corps uniforms with the little hats. Give Bae'zel a little hat.

Astarion: 1930s but specifically in the way of those British guys from Noel Coward plays who hang out in velvet smoking jackets all day.

Wyll: 1920s. I'm talking three-piece suits, Gatsby style. Long cigarette holder. Wingtip shoes. Doing the Lindy Hop all night. I'm swooning just thinking about it.

Karlach: Gives me serious late-70s punk energy. She needs a beat-up leather jacket with Ramones and Blondie pins and the ripped-est jeans ever. Hair can stay exactly the same.

Halsin: This one's easy. Late 60s hippie. Homemade tie-dye, flower crowns, Birkenstock sandals. Possibly one of those suede fringed jackets.

Minthara: Also 1930s in that slinky Joan Crawford femme fatale way. She'd rock those bias-cut evening dresses and fur coats. Don't worry about how she got those diamonds during the Great Depression.

Jaheira: 80s mom vibes. Her high-waisted jeans and shoulder-padded blazers conceal her superspy badassery.

Minsc: 1950s greaser in the wholesomest way imaginable. Don't fight me on this. Boo has a tiny leather jacket of his own.

[luffyrose]

I've had a DC x DP prompt/fic idea and I'd thought I'd share.

Danny, who has been dragged into taken over the role of High King, has been going through some of the paperwork that it entails. Of course, he's still baby ghost so CW and the others actually help with most the stuff, but he had some free time after being chased out of his house and injured (it'd been a few months since then).

Either way, he finds a particular line of complaints. He was never one to engage in it, but many of his subject, of which fall under the demon category, are complaining about a soul they can't collect. Danny personally finds it kind of funny. He sets those ones aside for now though, and continues doing whatever.

A few months later, he's summoned via some magic user, probably Klarion, and is now in front of the JL and a tiny wayward chaos maker. In a more eldritch form, he turns to Klarion, who very clearly did not mean to summon him specifically by the way he's panicking and called Teekel back, and just tells him he's grounded.

Thinking thatbwas that after Klarion left, he went back to his castle to do more work...and maybe play with Cujo. Really, Pariah Dark left so much paperwork, he doesn't wanna do all that!

The JL however is now steadfast on finding whatever the fuck that was. Klarion was scared of it, and it seemed more annoyed at being called than concerned about the heroes behind it. So that could be very very bad news.

Danny, after a while, realizes the JL is trying to find out more about him, which makes his life very difficult, fuck you very much, has a wonderfully stupid idea.

Going back to those papers about the soul that can't be collected, he summons a very tired and now spooked british man. One by the name of John Constantine. He wants a deal. More specifically, whatever deals he'd made, those were now the High Kings, and in return for whatever he got out of the deals, he wanted John to help him. All in all, he just got hired by the High King in return for ignoring the equivalent of taxes.

John was very confused, but hey, boy king of there is very chill out of formal settings. And also maybe he's worried about the fact that like a 16 year old is king-

Either way, there deal goes a little something along the lines of;

Danny: Keep the JL off my back, and all your debts are no longer valid and anyone that disagrees can come fight me.

John: ....okay??????

So while Danny got a "I don't wanna deal with this hero!" guy, John got a "I don't wanna deal with this demon!" guy.

[cheriladycl01]

Could you do fic for James Vowles with wife reader? I've an ideas : Person A and person B get asked the question of when the other person fell in love. person B's face lights up with mischief and begins to tell the most embarrassing story ever while person A has their head in their hands. You decide who is who. Just something fluff and fun. Thanks!!

The night we first met - James Vowles x StrategistWife! Reader

Plot: You are being interviewed for a Podcast that you and James were asked to do ahead of the 2025 season an get asked about how you guys first ever met.

Credit to jamesvowles for the GIF

"Here today, we've got two incredible people in the motorsport world and may i say one of the most iconic couples in motorsport with us on the Podcast. We're so thrilled that they are here, James Vowles and Y/N Vowles!" the interviewer exclaims and you both smile to the boys who'd invited you onto their podcast.

"Hello, how are you boys?" you smile at them kindly. You'd actually watched this specific F1 podcast for a while so when you saw a DM from them you begged James to come on with you.

"We are good, happy to have you here!" The other interviewer exclaims and smiles back at both of you.

"So, lets start with Y/N, your career into motorsports has been a bit of a roller-coaster right? Similar to your husbands actually!" he smiles looking at his card of notes and you smile before looking over at James.

"Well I unlike most I think who end up where I am now started actually driving. I did karting from ages of four to fifteen before i took part in British Single Seater which i ended up winning" you smile before looking down and sighing.

The boys pulled up a picture of you on the screen behind you, from 1997 when you were around 13 years old standing on a P1 podium place with a mini trophy in your hand.

They then switched to one which must have been taken in around 2001 when you'd won your first championship in a feeder series to F1.

"And this one taken in 2001 correct and you were 16, and you won here? James, in 2001 as well you'd just made your debut into F1 fresh out of university working for Honda BAR correct?" one of them asks and he nods.

"Yeah, i mean i was fresh out of uni in what then was a standard midfield team. Life was great!" he smiled taking you hand and kissing the back of it.

"So what happened. You should have been in F1 by now surely" he exclaims looking at you making you sigh.

"Well, everyone knows that F1 has always been a sport for the rich, even more a rich mans sport. People like Lewis Hamilton and Esteban Ocon can take the risk when they don't have the funds for it as it's way more likely for a man to be able to do it than a woman"

"My dad always told me I'd never make it and you know like most daughters i believed him and really lost my spark for it! And I think it's so amazing how far forward the sport has come with F1 Academy and the Driver Development Programme, like if I'd had the financial backing of a team then i would have had the confidence to do it" you explain and they both look really sad for you, and it was sad. It was the hardest choice you'd ever made.

"That's so sad, I think i can speak for the large majority of fans when i say you for sure would have been one of the first women win an F1 race!" one of the interviewers says and you just smile, you didn't often like to think what could have been if ... because you'd made your choice and you couldn't change that and right now with the life you had it wasn't something you would ever want to change.

"Yeah, I mean I'm happy with my life now and don't often like to think of it. I have James, I have the kids and my life is incredible and you know maybe if i was in F1 i wouldn't have bumped into James the way I did... and well" you giggle quietly.

"Yeah? How did that happen?" he asks.

"Well..." you start to laugh and James forces his face into his hands out of embarrassment.

"Please don't, it hurts my soul every time you tell this story!" he laughs awkwardly before you just laugh and continue with the story.

"Well it was 2006 and I was set to join Sauber BMW for my placement year in university. Despite no longer driving i still wanted to make my way into F1 and the only way I could now do that was through my brain. Come June 2007 when i was set to leave obviously because the University year worked differently I'd suggested an upgrade that I'd been thinking off all throughout university and it paid off as Sauber were P2 in the constructors by the end of the year" you start to explain.

"2007 in ... I want to say February at pre-season testing was the first time I met James. He was stranded at the track and i offered to drive him back to his hotel and at this point Honda were starting to struggle for money and we were talking about the teams and the possibility of a move for him. I was so concentrated on driving that there was some questions he was asking me twice!" you chuckled making the others all laugh around you.

"As we were about to cross over a intersection, our light had just turned green. I was being cautious because it was dark and there wasn't too many people around and the car behind me bibbed me to get a move on... bare in mind our light is still green and as im crossing a car coming across who had skipped the red light and a car crashed into our front spinning us around so we were facing the other way" you say calmly remembering the incident.

"I was so so embarrassed, even though James was convincing me that it wasn't my fault!"

"And it wasn't, we saw the dashcam footage which circled the internet after the whole altercation" the guy nodded in agreement with James thinking the crash definitely wasn't on you.

"I didn't end up talking to him until I joined back in post graduation with Honda, just before they turned to Brawn and I'd just finished my masters! in 2008"

"So why were you wanting to join a team that was severely financially struggling ..." one of them asks.

"Well, what can i say I've always liked an underdog. It was one of the teams i was trusted to be put in a high enough position without the experience. It was for a lower salary but i though we could really really do something"

"You were a massive part in the £1 team winning the championship correct?" he asks and you blush making James lightly elbow you.

"Stop!" you laugh at him.

"You were though, you pushed us through many months of hardship where we thought we weren't going to survive!" James admits, having also worked in Brawn.

"So now that you were back together what happened?" he asks and you looked over at him.

"Oh we argued all the time, we really got on Ross' last nerve!" you laugh and James nods in agreement.

"He was chief strategist and i was an engineer, would we blame each other and you'd often see us neck to neck in the paddock when something went wrong" you giggled.

"Yeah thats where the iconic picture of Jenson Button holding you back as your trying too ... I don't even know what you were trying to do honesty" he chuckles looking at the picture making you both chuckle.

"I think she was trying to strangle me... and now that we are married I can for sure tell you guys this time was defiantly my fault" he nods looking down a little bit.

"So how did you guys end up dating. You started dating after Mercedes overtook Brawn and you guys both remained there correct?" he asks and you both nod.

"I think, as much as we enjoyed our time at Brawn there was so much anxiety and pressure on and off track... and I think there was a lot of tensions" James says and you nod.

"I'd always looked up to James but i was still pretty embarrassed about the whole car crash incident and with all of the stress in the team I think for me it just turned into a self defence mechanism..." you grin, knowing this was the bit where James always got embarrassed.

"We were at the celebrations in Abu Dhabi and when we were celebrating knowing we'd one James ... kissed me ... on the lips and it was so random and quick. He pulled back looking so awkward and for a few moments was panicked ... i still don't know why!" you laugh looking over at him.

"Thought you were gonna report me to HR... but I'd had feelings for you since the car accident and I never stopped thinking about you even in our loss of contact..." he smiles pulling you into a small forehead kiss.

"Woah, thats so crazy we never knew there was a whole story since what 2007 behind the pair of you!" the interviewer smiles and you nod.

"Yeah we got married in 2016... the year i became Nico's race engineer as a promotion. Massive year too where we won constructors and drivers. I don't think Lewis spoke to me for a whole year after that" you laugh remember 2016 to 2017 being awkward.

"Is that what made you make the move later on?" he asks, once Nico left you became Valterri's race engineer when he joined.

"Not at all, I loved my time at Mercedes but there were other challenges out there for me. James understood that and once i saw Lando join McLaren i knew there was a good thing starting there. It was a British brand so you know it wouldn't effect me, or the anyone else so it was the perfect opportunity and i was at the same level as James so it was like we were competing" you laugh.

"And you became chief strategist, which is so so impressive you've really had the incredible career haven't you?"

"You know, I don't know where i'd be if it wasn't for the night we first me" you say looking over at James tears welling in your eyes a little. He drove you to be better at your job... he and the life you'd created with his was the most important thing ever to you.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[whorbidmore]

okay, so, I've fallen victim to the leon kennedy brainrot steadily overtaking me, following me from Tumblr to Pinterest, to Instagram and even the absolutely fucking dreaded application of TikTok. I don't even use it that often??? and the algorithm is just like 'wow, yeah, this little fuckers gay as hell send in the 40 year old meow meow!!' and having watched Death Island fairly recently, I'm gonna have my opinions on what this dude would be like. Cus my brain loves to rationalize shit and think ab 'what if this mf was someone real?' so... fuck it.

Leon Soft Kennedy Headcanons

SFW

accidentally bigoted. - im sorry but let's be so fucking real here. he's a 40 something year old man who spent the majority of his life in either the military, a police training academy in the 90's, or otherwise working under the U.S Federal System with minimal/no time between missions to unpack absolutely everything he's got going on... the guys gonna have some problematic tendencies. Obviously that doesn't mean he means any of that or is incapable of change, etc. etc., but I know for damn certain this dude would laugh a little at Bill Burr's borderline to blatantly misogynistic material and has probably chuckled unironically at the attack helicopter jokes. But, he's not a complete dick, and would definitely become more critical of those kinds of jokes if it's pointed out to him.

honest to God, Dad Without Kids™ - it's not simply enough for me to leave it at 'but it's the vibes!!' so, I'm gonna break this shit down. Leon is absolutely Gen X incarnate. I can fucking guarantee you that on his off days he accidentally ends up dressing as an undercover cop; I'm talking cargo shorts, light blue button up, those fucking standard issue boots cus "they're perfectly good shoes" and those stupid ass sunglasses... you know the ones I'm talking about. Let's say you're living with him, right? And you're... you, and you wanna watch something on TV. This dude would strain himself getting up like a turtle fallen backwards on its shell, stand up, walk right in front of the TV screen and stand there with his hands on his hips. It doesn't matter that he had to piss, he needs to get a better look of what's happening! Does those really loud, obnoxious coughs and sneezes, absolutely blows his back out doing one at least five times a year.

Only watches British Reality TV - Considering he's canonically a film buff, I'll say that this is purely for whatever he gravitates towards on general streaming services. I honestly don't see him being the type to regularly tune in to standard American cable TV, or only does so under specific circumstances like American Ninja Warrior or maybe Forged in Fire if there's absolutely nothing else. It's not something that's exclusive to Americans, — I'm from New Zealand and I do this too, — but Leon absolutely falls into the category of watching British Reality and Game shows purely because of the accents. I'm talking Jeremy Kyle, The Big Fat Quiz of Everything, Taskmaster, The Great British Bake Off and so on and so forth. It doesn't matter that baking isn't his forté or a passion of his, if Josephine curdles her buttercream by over mixing, his hands are in his hair in utter disappointment. 100% tries to mimic their accents too. We all do it, don't lie.

Has... very dated music tastes - I don't know if you could guess, but the last paragraph included me calling myself out and name dropping some shows I watch anyway or grew up watching, and I'm just saying that this is gonna be no different. If anything? This'll be worse! Since I'm very passionate about the music I listen to and have the inability to keep my interests separated from the other, of course my love of particular bands will bleed over into my interpretation of Leon's character! Anyway, all that for me to say that Leon fucking LOVES 90's grunge musicians, specifically Pearl Jam and Soundgarden, as well as early nu metal bands like Korn (their dubstep phase did not happen.), TOOL, and Rage Against the Machine — and no, he unfortunately doesn't see the irony of him being a fed and listening to Rage, — but would also have a soft spot for psych rock, post-punk and shoegaze. My man's definitely laid awake at night, sobbing without expression as he struggles to accept that Ada never really wanted him like he wanted her while listening to fucking Slowdive. My hottest take here is that he doesn't really listen to Deftones. Like he'll occasionally blast My Own Summer, Change, Bored or Rosemary, but anything outside of those? He just didn't listen to 'em. My second hottest take is that he does NOT like Slipknot, which kind of pains me 'cus I do, but I fucking bet you this dude would actually adopt one piece of "Gen Z lingo" or whatever just call them cringe. Though admittedly he would've been jamming the fuck out to Psychosocial and The Devil in I when they came out. Went off the deep end in Vendetta, obviously, and drunk-cried himself to sleep on the couch listening to Linkin Park.

Very confusing spending habits - On one hand, we all understand that Leon came from money, — he was implied to have been born into a mob family from my understanding? And I doubt he'd ever really had to worry about being fully, irrevocably broke, — but I'm sure that growing up in the U.S Foster Care System made him at least a little more cautious of where his money comes from, where it's going, what he's spending it on, etc. So, on the one hand, he's apprehensive to spend recklessly, particularly on perishables. But also, if he can drop over $100,000USD on a motorcycle that got absolutely fucking cheese grated into the road, and spend a perceived, metric fuck ton of money on designer leather jackets and massive watches, it's gonna be hard for me to call him 'financially conscious'. On one hand, he gets apprehensive on spending more money than he needs to on food since he's "just gonna shit it out later", but if he sees a cool watch or a nice suit in a shop window? Money's suddenly not an issue! Not because he's materialistic, but because the one thing he really maintains a sense of control over in his life are his possessions and the way he dresses. The D.S.O can call him in for another months long mission whenever they please, and all he can realistically do is allow the government to tug on his leash and put him where he's needed. He may as well spend their money on things he wants!

Gets out... enough? But also, not really? - So, personally I've pegged Leon as more of an introverted person, — amateurly typed his MBTI as possibly ISFJ? — so he doesn't really feel the need to go out and meet new people or really hang out with anyone. If somebody invites him out? Sure, he'll go. Otherwise, it rarely occurs to him to meet up with friends or colleagues at a cafe or anywhere. I think he'd prefer to just go there alone, mostly for the sake of having somebody else cook for him as opposed to actively seeking out the atmosphere. It's pure convience in his mind. And remember when I said in the beginning about him accidentally being at least a little misogynistic? Yeah, that was me trying to say that he regularly tries to hit on younger waitresses. Not because he actually wants anything to do with them, but simply because it's an ego boost. He likes that he can make girls half his age blush or offer him their numbers, because it tells him that he's still desirable, and ultimately, that gives him the power to reject them politely and go about the rest of his day. If they don't reject him first, of course. Admittedly, Leon's audacity towards women peaked during Infinite Darkness.

Since I'm planning on posting more NSFW headcanons for this guy, — and more NSFW kinds of posts, — here is the obligatory Minors DNI attachment. For your own safety, I don't care if what I have to say is tame so far, you can hold it off I promise.

[kissesforsatoru]

GUARDIAN ANGEL | wc: 5k~

GUARDIAN ANGEL!HOBIE BROWN X GN!READER

₊˚⌗ hobie was never supposed to get involved with you, yet you and him became irrevocably tied to one another.

⤷ cw : general yandere themes, soft yandere!hobie, near death experiences, marking (not in the way you guys probably think), jealousy, possessive behavior if you squint, implied power dynamics, pet names (love, sweetheart), horribly written british accent, utterly smitten hobie, softie!reader, reader is smaller than hobie, but angels are big compared to humans so that's why (he’s like 6’5+ and he wears platforms), EVERYTHING ABOUT ANGELS IN THIS FIC IS ENTIRELY MADE UP.

notes : please bear in mind that i don't have a full grasp on hobie yet, so he is probably definitely a bit ooc; i did try my best though!! i’m also planning to put this on ao3 at some point, so if you see it pop up there it’s not plagiarized, it’s just me ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

♫₊˚.🎧 now playing . . . fool for you by noita

it was never supposed to turn out like this. you and him were never supposed to happen.

you were only supposed to be 'just another human' to hobie like the rest of everyone else. he wasn't supposed to get involved or contact you directly; he wasn't supposed to get attached. you weren't supposed to get attached to him either. but you did, and he did too. so much that he’s entirely fucked. there’s no coming back from this for you or him.

it's not like this is any of hobie’s fault though, not when he’s known to not follow the rules and definitely not when you're the most precious human he has ever had the pleasure of being the guardian angel of.

he will admit that at first it was boring to watch you, but then it was fun. 

you aren’t anything incredibly special. just a broke college student with very few friends who likes to stay home more than you like to go out. but following you around and laughing his ass off about all of the stupid little things you did when you thought nobody was watching, like talk to yourself or narrate your actions, hobie really enjoyed that. he got a nice kick out of whenever someone would catch you doing one of those things and you’d get all flustered, shy, and painfully awkward.

you're undeniably adorable, and so refreshing. it's nice being your guardian angel in comparison to being one for some grubby old bastard whose morality borders far past what's considered to be good. hobie hates those people, pigs they are, all of them. you aren’t anything like them. you're boring, yeah, but hobie still likes you better than any other human. 

he sometimes pretended that you were talking to him whenever you spoke to yourself out loud, even though that couldn't have been possible. he would smirk and respond to you still with his dry humor and witty remarks because it was fun and it gave him a delightful little buzz. 

he didn't know how, or when, it happened, but hobie then found himself melting whenever he was around you, and more, he didn't mind it.

hobie used to hate angels that fell for humans because they’re such fragile beings; you have to be careful with them, all gentle and soft—it's why they need guardian angel, otherwise, they would die out faster than any other species earth has ever known. and angels, despite what people may think, aren't gentle lovers. they're aggressive and intense by nature due to their power and status as "higher beings." humans are too weak to handle an angel's love; it would be too overwhelming for them to handle, so falling for one is pointless, and hobie always thought that the angels who did were stupid. but he gets it now.

he shouldn’t though.

guardian angels have very specific and strict rules that have to be followed meticulously for both the safety of humans and angels. of course, hobie has broken more than a few of these rules before and he’s also gotten plenty of lectures from miguel about it too—enough for hobie to have actually considered flying under the lunatics' radar by doing his job correctly, but hobie... he doesn't like to be pushed around and forced into a role. especially one as heavy as guardian angel. that's just not him, so he does what he wants.

but still, hobie has never seriously messed up before. he's only had a few slip ups here and there that aren't too reprimandable in comparison to other things. he's tried to be somewhat serious about his job, follow all the important rules and all that. that is until he fell for you.

hobie has broken many of the important rules for you, and the first one was even falling for you in the first place. you made him break that one so easily, almost too easy. the next rule hobie broke for you was communicating with you directly, revealing himself and really getting involved with you. but to be fair, that also wasn't his fault. he didn't have the intention of letting you see him that night, let alone talking to you; it just happened.

your friend gwen told you about guardian angels and how it was possible for you to manifest using the help of yours, and you were awfully excited about finding out if that was true or not. you asked him for a sign that he was there, that he was willing to help you. one thing led to another and suddenly you were nestled deeply into the corner of the wall on your bed, wide eyed and shivering as you stared at him standing across the room.

perhaps it was your over eagerness mixed with his half-developed love for you at the time that made him stupidly decide to give you a sign that he was real in the form of literally showing you that he was real, he doesn't know. either way he did show you himself, and it had shocked you, really (an understatement). it took many hours of him consoling you to get you to understand that he's not some psycho who broke into your home somehow, but your actual, real guardian angel, in the flesh.

you were practically all over him after that, asking him all sorts of questions and touching him just to see if that was even possible for you to do—and to know what it would feel like too. not that he minded anyway. hobie decided then that it was much better having you actually talk to him than it was pretending that you were. and your touch was so soft that hobie had actually faltered a little bit when you reached for his cheek, pressing your palm against his skin and keeping it there for as long as he would let you. 

of all the places you could have touched him, of course you would choose an area that felt so unreasonably intimate, shaking him to his core. luckily you were far too enamored with the idea that he was a real angel for you to notice how much you’d set him off, how much you affect him.

after that he couldn't stay away from you. before he might have had a chance to snap himself out of his little love-sick puppy stupor, but having you aware of him, talking to him, touching him—it was all exhilarating; he loved it. and it would truly be unfair for anyone to expect him to pull away from you and never let anything like that happen again. that was never an option for hobie, so he just didn't. he won’t ever deny himself the pleasure of you.

the last, most recent rule that hobie broke for you, and the one that happens to be the most important of all, was interfering with your life. going against "fate," as miguel calls it. hobie always thought that it was bullshit since a guardian angels' job is to protect, but apparently, they aren’t allowed to prevent their assigned human's death, or cure their illnesses, or anything like that, even though they had the power to. he didn't understand it, but still, he never got attached enough to feel the need to go against that rule until he fell in love with you.

— ୨୧ —

he indulged himself little by little with you. first by allowing himself to enjoy being your guardian angel, then by falling in love with you and involving himself physically with you. and then he started allowing himself to steal your attention from anyone or anything other than him on days he felt oddly needy.

that term isn't something anyone who knew hobie would use to describe him, not even he would use it to describe himself, but with you he's always acted a little bit different. he came to accept it, told himself that it was the "y/n effect" and left it at that. being needy with you was something that hobie didn't really mind all that much; he embraced it, really. 

hobie can at least get away with a little bit of harmless interference this way, by stealing your attention for himself. he didn't mind receiving another long, boring lecture about how he can’t keep breaking rules if it meant he got to spend his day with you holed up in your little apartment, just the two of you. you and him and nobody else.

he'd show up out of nowhere when you least expected him to, always, and tug on your arm, pull you into his body and coax you into staying with him. he'd tell you that going to work would be bad for you, leave you sick and groggy—you hate being sick and all groggy, and only a fool would think hobie wouldn’t use that to his advantage.

"you have to listen to your guardian angel, love," he would tell you, tilting his head to look down at your small frame, admiring the slight angry pout on your lips. "i know what's best for you, so stay, yeah?"

you always do listen to him. you trust him completely, after all, because you're such a naive human that could never ever think that hobie, your guardian angel, has bad intentions with you. and he doesn't, no, he's just a little bit selfish. no harm in that, right? 'course not.

hobie can go a little overboard with his selfishness whenever you have a date to go on though. he shouldn't be because you're a human and he's an angel and he could never have you for real, right? so he should let you have your little love story with your puny little human boy. 

but hobie is going to be selfish regardless of the facts. regardless of some stupid rules.

he hates the idea of you being with some dumb human when you have him. he's perfect, he's an angel. he's strong enough to protect you, he has your best interest always in mind—it's his literal job—he can love you the way you deserve to be loved and more, he can care for you better than anyone else in the world because he knows you best and knows exactly what you need without ever having to tell him. no human can ever compare to him.

no human will ever be as cool as him either. hobie doesn't think any guy can top him when he's a punk angel—what could possibly be cooler than that? you said it yourself when the two of you first met. 

"wow, i didn't think angels could look so... cool. hobie, you're amazing; what the hell!? how did someone like me get you as a guardian angel?”

who are you to be going on dates when you compliment him so sweetly like that. you obviously have an interest in him and all hobie needs to do is push you in the right direction, so he doesn't mind telling you any excuse he can come up with to get you to drop a guy, stupid and unreasonable or not.

"that guy just wants you for your body."

"that guy has a love already that he's not telling you about."

“that guy isn’t a good person, he’ll be a bad influence for you.”

"sweetheart, he's too ugly for you." he told you one time as an excuse, and you did not like that one. 

"hobie! it's not about looks, it's about personality, and– and the heart!" you yelled at him, smacking his chest lightly as you pulled away from him and rushed your way down the hall towards your room.

"oh, s'at right? you like guys with ‘heart’?" he huffed a laugh as he followed behind you, leaning against your door frame when he got to your room. you turn around to glare at him, but he only smirks at your ruffled posture.

cute. cute.

"yes, actually! unlike you. i had no idea angels could be such assholes," you grit before turning back around to flop yourself face first into bed.

you always do that when you're upset with him, which isn't often at all, but it happens enough for hobie to pick up on the little habits you develop, and this is certainly one of them. you don't like looking at him 'cause he ‘does stuff to you,’ apparently. makes you unable to stay mad if you look at him too long, so you just choose not to. 

he pushes off the wall and saunters towards you, pressing a knee into your bed as he reaches over to tug at your arm, urging for you to roll over, to look at him. "c'mon, you don't mean that, love." he smiles when you do eventually turn to look at him, and this time with a much less angry expression on your pretty face.

"no, i don't," you sigh defeatedly, "but you are pretty mean sometimes, hobes."

that nickname. he loves that nickname. he loves even more that you were the one who gave it to him.

he hums thoughtfully before responding, "not to you though, and tha's what matters, don't you think?" you roll your eyes at him, shifting so that you're flat on your back now as you look up at him. you don't say anything more, only stare up at him with your pretty eyes, all glossy and shining under the dim light in your room. big, and so fucking innocent.

god. fuck.

hobie crawls over you slowly, keeping his eyes steadily on you as he does. he brings a hand to your cheek, stroking his thumb over your soft skin gently as he settles himself above you, and then he reaches his thumb to press into your chin so that he can get a good grip on your face. to keep you from gettin' all shy on him, ‘cause he knows you will when you realize what he’s about to do to you.

his eyes flit down to your lips when your tongue darts out to lick across your bottom one, all sensual like—or maybe hobie is getting too worked up. yeah, probably that, but whatever.

you sigh shakily when hobie starts to lean down closer. you're so pliant, laying there nice and still for him even though you're feeling nervous right now. because you trust him; there isn't anything hobie could do that would make you not trust him.

hobie has to keep himself from absolutely devouring you when his lips press to yours. he has to remind himself to be soft, to not be too aggressive so he doesn't scare you too much, or hurt you either; the weak little whine you let out as he kisses you does nothing to help his self-control stay intact though. thankfully, you grab tightly at his leather vest and tug for him to come closer, inviting him to press further into you and kiss you deeper.

hobie balances himself up on his knees as the hand that was holding him up comes to knead at your waist and tummy, feeling and rubbing there as gently as he can right now in his worked-up state—which is just barely enough for him not to leave imposing bruises on your skin from how much stronger he is compared to you. you don't seem to mind how tightly he holds onto you though, because you're still eagerly kissing him back, making all sorts of pleased little noises that hobie is all too happy to swallow up.

hobie only pulls away when you start squirming under him, signaling that you need to breathe. he wraps his arms around you and pulls you tight against his body as he nuzzles into your neck, inhaling your delicious scent and placing little kisses on your neck as you pant softly.

"you don't need another man, you know that love?" he ask you, tells you, after a while of the two of you just laying together.

"yeah, i guess i don't," you reply to him, airy and quiet, right before you fall asleep tucked nicely into his arms. exactly where you belong.

— ୨୧ —

jessica stops hobie one night right as he's about to leave and go see you.

"if miguel finds out about this, you know he's going to be pissed, right?” she says, coming up behind him. “maybe you can get off on a wrist slap for breaking small, stupid rules, but falling in love with a human is something miguel absolutely will not allow, hobie."

hobie scoffs and rolls his eyes but doesn’t reply, nor does he turn around to look at her. his emotions and feelings would be right on display for her if he did. she’d know well how much he fucked up, and that would be a hit to his pride. ‘specially since he always told her about his dislike for angels who fell for humans. 

"what’s ’at got anything to do with me, mm?" he decides to respond out of courtesy, turning his head to look at her through his peripheral, "i'm not in love with any human."

hobie knows that jessica knows that's a lie. it's obvious he's in love with you because of how different he's acting. doing his job right and all that, to some degree at least. breaking the 'don't get in physical contact your human' and 'don't fall in love with your human' rules aside, he's properly keeping up with his status reports about you, he's not off doing other things when he's supposed to be with you. he's being the good proper guardian angel he should be, and that is definitely out of character for hobie. it was really only a matter of time before someone found out. hobie is just lucky it was jessica who put two and two together first instead of miguel. then he’d have a real big problem on his hands. 

jessica sighs. "all the stuff miguel says about angels getting attached and falling for humans being dangerous is true, hobie, not just some control tactic to keep angels on a leash. it could cost your human their life, and you your job," she warns before leaving.

hobie always liked how not-pushy she is; it’s why he prefers her over miguel. but he thinks she's wrong, because he would never let you die. ever. he couldn’t care less about losing this shitty job though.

— ୨୧ —

the conversation with jess, as much as hobie hates to admit it, put a real damper on his mood. 

he's agitated when he gets to your apartment, showing up right in your room where he knows that you are because he can feel you there. and once he is there, he eases up a little bit. all of his racing thoughts seem to disappear when you come into his vision so he can see you now, not just feel you. seeing and feeling you is nice; it grounds him.

you jolt when you see him suddenly appear behind you in the reflection of the mirror that you're sitting in front of though. a gentle gasp falls from between your pretty lips as you whirl around quickly to look at him, eyes widening like a doe caught in headlights. you ease up quickly, realizing that it's just him; you sigh the words under your breath as you deflate a little bit, coming down from the brief bit of adrenaline you must have felt with him scaring you like that. 

goodness, aren't you just so delicate? it's a damn shame hobie's not supposed to go falling for a human, isn't it? a load of tosh that is.

he smirks, "sorry, love. didn't mean to scare you li' that,” he says easy, stepping forward until he's a few feet in front of you, looking down at you, looking up at him. your eyes are glimmering under the artificial light of the lamp settled next to the mirror. he thinks that even in such dodgy lighting, your eyes and soft expression are still utterly enrapturing. the soft, charming glow that the light provides to your features draws a pleased hum from hobie.

so pretty. you're so damn pretty.

"geez, hobes," you say, huffing as you look away from him and down at your lap, "you can't just keep randomly showing up like that; you may well give me a heart attack one of these days if you do." your laugh is music to his ears. airy, pitched, and sweet like the ripest peach. sweeter than the ripest peach.

an angel's voice is supposed to be the most beautiful sound, people say, but hobie disagrees. he would much rather listen to you talk or laugh all day long rather than ever have to hear another word uttered from his shitty coworkers' mouths.

"i would never let that happen to you," he says, tone shifting from playful to serious. hobie feels better that he’s with you now, but the bit jess said about you dying clings to him still. weasels it’s way into his thoughts and makes his stomach lurch. he’s buzzing, and not in the nice delightful kind of buzzing that you bring out of him, no. he just needs you right now. 

he needs to feel you—really feel you, beyond the way he feels your life force tied to him, fluctuating with your emotions and physical state. he needs to actually touch you, hold you.

hobie gets down onto his knees in front of you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you up into his chest as he does. you whimper in surprise at the sudden proximity between you and him, your hands instinctively grabbing at his shoulder and jacket to steady yourself, even with how tightly he's holding you against him because his presence just overwhelms you too much. he always makes you feel dizzy and weak in the knees. you can never seem to function, not without his help. but that's normal between humans and angels. you aren't made to handle him, you aren't supposed to, but that's okay; he can be as gentle as you need him to be. 

"look at me, love," hobie whispers, hooking a finger under your chin, nudging you to look at him. you squeak when your eyes meet his, no doubt incredibly flustered—he can feel that you are. can feel your pulse throbbing as heat rushes through your skin, radiating a dull warmth for him to sink into as his fingers dig deeper into your skin. he smirks, huffing out a faint laugh as he looks down at you, admiring you.

"there you go, sweetheart," he praises you softly, brushing the pad of his thumb across the slight curve of your bottom lip. your eyes flutter closed briefly as you take a shaky breath, and then you open them again, watching him intently, and god does it make hobie feel all sorts of things. 

"'m never gonna let anyone or anything hurt you," he murmurs, tightening his grip around your waist and holding you firmly against his chest with each word uttered, “you’re too precious for me to be careless with you like i am the rest of the shitty people in this shitty world. only you matter to me, yeah? just you and nobody fucking else.” he finishes quietly, dipping down to kiss lightly on your cheeks, one on each side, and then another on your forehead, drawn-out and lingering even after he pulls away.

you're practically melting in his hold by the time he does pull away, so pliable and warm, and you're looking at him with hooded eyes that you can barely keep open. delirious as you are, utterly suffocated by him, your grip on his shoulder and jacket is still relentless, unwavering, as if he would slip away from you if you loosened up the tiniest bit. you want him, need him, near to you as much as he wants you near, really. it's not just him with all of these intense, overwhelming and all-consuming emotions; it's you too.

“hobie,” you whine, nearly breathless, “can you– can we please kiss again? on the… the lips?” you plead, tugging at his jacket in desperation.

“anything for you, sweetheart,” hobie whispers, leaning forward until his mouth is hovering over yours, breathing you in slowly before he finally closes them together. he kisses you slow and tender, taking his time in savoring how delicious you taste. you sigh contentedly, tilting your head to the side and parting your lips for his tongue to delve inside of your mouth.

the hand he has wrapped around your waist slides across your body, feeling every dip and curve down to your thigh, where he grabs at gently, swinging it up to his hip as he pushes off the floor. your legs wrap around him instinctively to hold yourself up in his arms as he carries you across the room to your bed, his lips never once parting away from yours as he does. his other hand is holding your chin and jaw in place so that you can't pull away from him either, wanting as much contact with you at a time as he can get away with. he knows you wouldn't pull away from him so easily, but he likes controlling the kiss, likes it when you let him lead the way and guide your body with his. 

hobie carefully sits down on the bed and leans back against the wall, settling you into his lap comfortably before his hand starts roaming all over your body; along your hips and over your thighs, squeezing the fat in his hands before moving back up and dipping under your shirt to feel at your tummy. you moan and whimper into the kiss, shivering under his touch when his hand grazes along especially sensitive areas of your body. 

when hobie pulls away you're panting and dazed, humming mindlessly in pleasure as hobie starts pressing kisses down your jaw and neck. his teeth graze lightly along the sensitive flesh beneath your ear teasingly before his tongue dips out to lick delicately at the spot, making your body thrum and pulsate in delectation. he nips once at your skin before finally pulling away to look at you, to savor how much of a mess he was able to make you into with a heated kiss. and god do you look absolutely stunning like this. swollen lips parted as you breath out small puffs of air, hooded eyelids, and your clothes are entirely disheveled from where hobie had pushed them up and slid his hands under. 

fuck, you’re lovely.

"you look a mess, sweetheart," he rasps fondly, running his fingertips lightly along your hips and thighs.

"'ts your fault," you mumble, falling into his chest and nuzzling your nose into his neck, exhaling softly as you close your eyes and relax. hobie wraps both of his arms around you and rubs your back gently, soothing you until you hum contentedly.

"yeah, i suppose it is, isn't it?" he agrees quietly, not wanting to disrupt your somnolence. 

hobie lays with you in his arms for hours after that, listening intently to your steady heartbeat and soft, rhythmic breathing, every now and then feeling you shift with a cute disgruntled little huff whenever you've stayed in one position for too long. hobie loves your sleepy, content little sounds, loves the way your fingers curl around his vest; even in your sleep you're still clinging onto him, because you need him, and he loves it. 

hobie loves you.

— ୨୧ —

hobie knows he's not supposed to interfere with fate. it's against the rules, or whatever bullshit excuse everyone says it is. hobie didn't really care that much about it before because he's never cared about anyone enough to ever want to change their fate, but now he has you, and you need him more than ever to keep you safe, to keep you from dying. 

god, he doesn't know how it happened, but you were crying for him so desperately. curled on the floor, gasping for air and clutching onto life with weak claws, you were calling his name. it was like sensory overload, hearing every strewn-out letter of his name mixed in with your sobs, with the incessantly throbbing and pulsating of your life force weakening, slowly and agonizing. 

the second you had been put in danger, hobie felt it. all throughout his body and deep within his soul, he felt you dying. there was a shift in the air at that moment, a suffocating, excruciatingly tense one that everyone around hobie had noticed; jess and miguel, and his best friend pavitr. 

they all yelled and screamed at him that he couldn't go to you, lunging to stop him as he fumbled for the watch that would help him get to you the fastest, but the noise they made was dull and muffled in comparison to the way you cried for him. and god did it feel like he was getting stabbed through the heart mercilessly every time that you did. how dare they ever expect him to just listen to then when you were in so much fucking pain, all alone and the only one you wanted was him. 

he had to save you. fuck the rules and fuck his shitty job; you were far more important to him than any of that. it didn’t matter to hobie that in order to save you he had to enchain his soul with yours, it didn't matter to him that he would share every bit of pain with you now, even your last breath if you ever took it, because hobie would rather give up his entire being to you than ever have to live without you.

© 2023 by kolyasobsession━all rights reserved. modification, reproduction or plagiarism of my works and theme are strictly prohibited. likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated.

[everything-is-as-it-was]

My TIT Berlin experience!

Here's all the things that happened during the show that stood out to me as probably things that don't always happen/ were specific to our show:

They came out wearing shorts because it was a super hot day in Berlin, Dan said they had performed in the same venue for ii as well and distinctly remembers rivulets of sweat cascading down his arms

They made the dolls 69 :(

During the Phil Doctor bit, people shouted "scheiße" for the first one, and the typer write it as "scheisse." Dan asked "do we not have the B thing?!" and the person then proceeded to write "scheisseBBBB" on the screen. We had the same answer for the NEXT two questions and they were written: "scheiBBBBe" and then simply "BBBBB"

Phil seemed to forget a line and laughed after Dan looked at him pointedly at the beginning of the game show bit

Dan had to repeat the fact that they put Vegas pages in Tabinof twice in order for them to actually put it on the screen

Someone shouted cat whiskers when Dan asked what their legacy would be

The wrestling went as expected (notable instances include but are not limited to: Phil shoving the pompoms of a hat while standing over Dan. Dan trying to hit Phil with a metal chair. Phil slamming Dan's head into said metal chair. Dan biting Phil. Dan holding Phil hostage, prompting Phil to ram his ass into his crotch. Three times.)

Dan was very very sweaty after the wrestling (lol)

After Dan's little monologue once the wrestling was over, Phil came out and there was a super awkward pause where I think someone forgot their lines (I remember there being a pause and Phi saying "......what are you talking to them about?"

The confessions bit:

Someone pegged a cop that was their ex's friend

Two ppl got engaged

Person's friend cancelled on them so they sold their ticket to buy merch (this was also stated on a card in the phlit during the pre show)

During the dance bit Phil was very obviously looking at Dan. Dan was very into it but Phil is so me in that he looked quite honestly lost lmao

After the show we stood by the stage door and Dan and Phil came out in a big black van with tinted windows. It was very difficult to see inside lol. Then about 15 minutes later one of the members of their staff (british ginger guy with a beard) came out and said "they" (dnp ig) texted him and wanted to make sure people weren't waiting at the door anymore since they were gone, so he just wanted to let us know they'd already left in case we didn't know.

[toast-in-a-cowboy-hat]

I'll never get over Tex asking Michael if he has a brain chip, then immediately saying that Outlaw can take it out, and everyone acts like its The Most Casual suggestion one could ever have

Like yeah man, come on, it'll be fine, don't worry about it, just slap down a towel, get some of Outlaw's Backyard Brain Surgery, don't make such a big deal out of it

We can do it in the living room, you can watch some TV, Bluster might come in and say hi, just lay back and relax!

Also I assume he knows the general area that the chip wold be in, but also you need to know exactly where, so does he have an X-Ray Machine, or he just whipping out a metal detector in the middle of all this, homing in on it like "Hmm it's beeping real loud, let's try here... ah, nope, that's a beer tab, well we'll keep lookin', it's in there somewhere"

And I know maybe this is something to be done with a Calculator, but referring to it specifically as Brain Surgery and Michael saying he doesn't want Ty poking around his brain implies that its just regular (well "regular") surgery and so like...where did Outlaw get the equipment for this??

Where in the world is he getting this stuff, did he steal a copy of the Compound's equipment on the way out, is he going up to random hospitals like "Hey don't mind me just gonna duplicate your MRI Machine" or is he cobbling shit together in the basement??

Like you walk in and this man's defibrillator is made outta someones old toaster got some kinda machine in the corner partially made out of an old doodlebug hood, the computer screen's from 1995, but then again that's high tech compared to some hospitals so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also I imagine this is a Base only kinda thing, but what if Tex's just down at the bar offering people free surgery like it's on the same level as a ride home?

Can you imagine being in a bar with your buddies, you just went to the doctor, they said you need some kind of heart surgery, and you're there talking like 'Oh it needs to be done but god, its so expensive, my insurance only covers so much, the bills are just gonna kill me, etc, etc ...' Only for some other guy that you may or may not know to pop up, go "Oh, hey, I got someone that can help you out with that", call someone else over and be like "This is my guy-of-indeterminate-relationship, he's a scientist, he can probably hook you up with a lil open heart surgery, no problem :)"

Scientist guy asks you what the problem is, you explain it, and he's like "yeah, we can do something about that, gimme a couple weeks to get everything together, I'll give you a call when it's all ready"

And you're just like, yeah sure, why not, Weird Cowboy Scientist's gonna do my heart surgery, sure. Is he gonna buy the implant you need? Does he just have one lying around? Is he stealing it?? Who knows, you'll find out, it's fine, sure

2 weeks later, you do the finding out and apparently none of your guesses were right, turns out he's building all this shit himself, but hell, it's faster than a doctor's appointment and free to boot, so! Why not! Sure! Let's do it, definitely not gonna be getting any organs stolen, this is all completely normal!!

And then its actually fine.

Nothing bad happened, no infections, no internal organs missing (as far as you can tell), it was a basic surgery, everything went fine.

You go home. You decide you don't need to know. You decide you don't want to know.

You go to the bar with your buddies again, the guy is there, you buy him a beer, have a little chat, leave the conversation thinking "Wow, what a fucking dork", and on life goes.

And I mean, I guess it could work in their favor, like, folks around get to knowing about him, and he's out doing something odd or seemin' suspicious or something and someone asks about him, they can be like "Oh no, don't worry, don't mind him, that's just Outlaw, he's Tex's... bestie? boyfriend? sugar-baby-boytoy-situationship-type-deal??? ...British Friend, and yeah he's weird n' all, but it's cool, he's nice, he sometimes help's out with folk's health problems when they can't afford it, and Tex's band plays at the bar, which is cool, so ya know, we don't question the weird shit they got goin' on, like it works out, it's all good"

Like, there's just....

So much, so many things there, I could go on, as you can tell, I have many a thought but like, I just - it's - yeah

[curioushabitforarivergod]

I LOVE the historical context you add to tom riddle meta. im curious. at that time how important and wealthy would tom riddle sr likely have been? i.e. how nice was the life that Tom missed out on by growing up in the orphanage instead of with his dad?

Omg thanks so much!

We don't actually know much about the Riddles. They likely lived in Yorkshire, Lancashire, or the very west of Cornwall (200 miles from Surrey as per Goblet of Fire), but I think it's more likely they lived in the North, specifically in Yorkshire. The Riddle's name is probably locational rather than profession based, and from a village called Ryedale in the North Riding of Yorkshire. It was probably mutated over time because spelling wasn't standardised or even close to standardisation when last names were beginning to become a thing (roughly 11th century in Britain).

Okay, now the reason I went into that is because I believe the Riddles were the big guys back in the day (by which I mean late medieval period c. 1100s until the late 1500s) and were the kind of wealthy landowners who employed serfdom potentially even past the Peasant's Revolt of 1381. I know a lot of people place them as merchants who made money from trade but based on their name and location (Yorkshire is famous for its sheep) I think it's more likely they were landowners. They probably had pretty solid generational wealth, potentially even being landed gentry (a class of gentry who made their money on leasing land and known as lords of the manor), although I'm fairly certain they lost most of this later. I don't think they ever were part of the peerage (the level above gentry in the British aristocracy who hold hereditary titles) but gentry usually married into peerage and vis versa so they were likely quite connected despite never being "Lords" themselves. They got their name through their association with the village as the big whigs.

Even if the Riddles had kept up serfdom for a century or so after the Peasants Revolt (entirely plausible), serfdom was abolished by Elizabeth I in 1574. Whenever they stopped working as part of the feudal system, I don't think it had major impacts on their wealth. Like I mentioned above, they were probable landed gentry, making their money by leasing out land and still profiting off the lower classes.

With the Industrial Revolution and the Agricultural Depression of the 1870s, I think they would've lost quite a bit of money, potentially even their place as landed gentry. They would've still been quite rich, but their wealth was probably in decline and they had to look elsewhere. Maybe they never succeeded in this.

The thing is, we know next to nothing about the Riddles and the family we see through Tom Riddle's eyes is one that's lost status and connections because of the scandal of Riddle Snr. having run off with Merope without being married and (rumours have it!) having a child out of wedlock. The Riddle family probably declined economically with WWII (and to a lesser extent WWI) as well, although they never got a chance to really see the era through properly due to their… untimely deaths.

I think if Tom had been raised by the Riddles, they may not have fallen so far, providing Riddle Snr. married Merope before her death, or at least had falsified documents that he did. Tom would've still grown up in declining wealth, but more than enough money still to not have to work. Life for Tom would've been far better, what without starvation, disease, poverty and later, bombs and would've remain largely untouched by the war. The Great Depression wouldn't have it so hard, and Tom, not being surrounded by so much death, would've been fundamentally altered. I'm not sure what the Riddle's reaction to Tom being magic would've been like, but I'll leave that to any writers. All in all, Tom missed out on a far better life.

Thank you so much for the ask! It really made my day!!

[batsrambles]

just finished reading the raven boys, so while i wait for dream thieves to arrive at my door, here's the innacurate way my brain imagined the gang:

spoilers. if that's needed. plus warning, this is hella long

BLUE:

• sorry ok i could not imagine her with anything but blue hair. like a dark almost purply blue, the kind you could get away with by pretending it's black. i am 100% sure everyone and their mom imagined her with blue hair but shhhh my tumblr post my rules.

• big ol eyes. starin into your soul. idk why. felt right. my brain was like hmm magnet for energy = big ol starin eyes? window to soul? i think yes.

• back to the hair i could only imagine it like. spiky. like goth girl's first time cutting her own bangs. or like the animal crossing bed head hair when you don't log in for a couple of days and pop back up. half way through i reminded myself she has at least a tiny ponytail and can't have hair THAT short but oh well

• the clothes i kept imagining her with flopped from scene to like cottagecore but bright ass colours. so not cottagecore at all but like. the dresses skirts cardigans all that. but bright. honestly she's fashion goals in my head

• also unrelated but she'd def choose rosalina in any game she's an option. queen

GANSEY:

• play that funky muuusic whiiite boouuuyyy. except that mf has been like around the world in 80 days and does nawt stop running around after the ley lines so he is definitely not paper pale unlike someone

• i knowww he doesn't have glasses on for the majority of the book but i could NOT imagine him without them at all. like it was a shock any time it was mentioned he did have them on my brain had to buffer like "did he not. always have. them.??.????". the round metal frame kind, with nose pads, and rose-gold in colour

• brown eyes feel right for him. sad ol deer baby eyes

• also i kept. reading his lines. in an australian accent? i read a lot in public & i live in australia so thats probably why. i mixed it in with irish sometimes and i think that's because halfway through a page i'd start reading in my own voice in my head rather than making character voices. idk what was happening in my head

• i imagine he walked into a store once, looked at the shelves with all the polo shirts, took one of every colour, hasn't grown since so hasn't needed any other clothes, and has one specific colour for every day of the week + special occassions. also like seven pairs of the exact same shorts and wears his school shoes everywhere

ADAM:

• green eyes. but the browny kind. green-brown. hazel? idk. yk what i mean

• i also imagine he's Had the baby's first home-haircut thing goin on, then it grew out because imagine having time to go get a haircut with all he's got going on. he's the guy that's always holding his own fringe back with a hand to fucking see. he's definitely been forced to tie it up like a unicorn horn more than once. also don't think the back is safe. it's not long enough for an actual ponytail but it's thick enough for another unicorn horn

• freckles. drops mic. walks away. idc. he's the kinda guy to be freckly everywhere. won't elaborate. i don't think this is an uncommon opinion like blue and her blue hair

• also a mole like on his jaw. idk why. sitting here tryna imagine the characters n that's what i see so.

• also also i know his hair is "dusty" but my brain interpreted that as dirty blond when i think it's blond blond so oops

• also also also braces. idk why. he's a dork

• i read his lines in like a vaguely texan accent. Vaguely. idk why again. it's not like he's ever said anything to warrant that. i think i did a british accent at the start too 😭 sorry adam you didn't deserve that

can you tell i really like adam parrish

NOAH:

• looooong hair. worse than i imagined adam. like noah's is straight as fuck too. i also imagined he hunches just a lil bit, so his hair would be like half covering his face

• and i knowwww it's hella innacurate but fsr my brain saw him with pitch-black hair.

• so yes as you can tell i was imagining that one girl out of the tv yk the one whenever noah just appeared out of thin air. which was before i found out he was dead dead and not depressed-mentally-dead dead, so you can imagine the face i pulled like "oh fuck i was kidding when i imagined him ghostly"

• and after that point he got like rlly prominent cheekbones in my brain, like skeletal

• i also actually imagined him as rlly tall. idk why. it just felt right. like an ominous shadow in the distance

• also also how could he not have like THE 2000s emo fringe. HOW COULD HE NOT

• also also also tooth gap idk why feels right felt right will always be in my head

my favourite little freak. fav character. was so distraught when they found his license

RONAN:

• i am incapable of tanning like at all i just get sun burnt or more freckly so i can only imagine ronan as the same

• also i could only imagine him as lanky as fuck for 90% of the book. i know he's nooooot i just. i couldn't imagine anything but tall and lanky. it was only after the chapter with adam's dad that i gave in and stopped imagining him with twig arms

• like adam, i also imagined him with freckles but like, not everywhere like adam, just in very specific spots. he's got more moles than he does freckles. so i wouldn't really describe it as freckly the way i imagined adam freckly. confused? good.

• also my brain associated him with a dark purple. idk why again. it just. it feels right.

• i feeeel like he'd have too many piercings but can't get away with half of them because damn private schools

• fuzzy head. like a kiwi. icr if he's meant to be skin tight shaved but my brain went to kiwi straight away regardless

• i just stuck to my own accent for him once i figured out he was irish. which if you must know,,, is a sometimes subtle and sometimes really unsubtle kildare accent. i doubt it's right but it works in my head

can you imagine the shock i felt shaving my head two or three days before my book came in the mail and found out ronan lynch exists. and he's irish too. bro. like mind blown. ok. i see. we are one ig maybe. idk let me read more books and report back.

i am aware there is the graphic novel (!!!) designs and stuff so i'm. waaaaaaaaay off but. let me have this i'm autistic abt these freaks

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

do you suppose we could have some headcanons for Hobie with an Aussie S/O? I think it’s be a lot of fun :3

please, and thank you

(sorry if this is short and idk much Abt Aussie or British stuff so sorry for any mistakes! Enjoy!)

Hobie Brown x Aussie!S/o

Your arguments are funny as hell

There is slang thrown around and accents and everything is all shit everywhere

You guys are constantly bickering on what certain things are if you call them differently in your respective states/countries

He did find your accent quite cool and endearing though

He says and has a lot of nicknames for stuff as all British people do, so when he heard how you have your own nicknames he genuinely thought they were the same for him

Until he heard you yell "Hobie! Have you seen my things?!"

He almost died because he froze so quick and was absolutely horrified when you said that in straight public or if people could hear you

He was just gobsmacked as you got annoyed before eventually finding them

He was shocked to see they were sandals!

Back to the arguments, they sound goofy as shit

British and Aussie accents are nice in general but when they're being yelled at one another it's funny

Pavitr has been there for many and just sits and laughs

He teases you a lot for how you say things and you do the same to him

It's very light hearted and never serious so it's cool though

He wouldn't and would want to go to Australia, especially in your plant if you go to his planet and where he lives

You guys have to teach each other sayings and specific things though

Because if you don't it will be hell and confusing as shit

[imissthembutitwasntadisaster]

bestie what’s your beef with what the river knows 👀 please do full spoilers it’s on my tbr!

YOU CANNOT ATTEMPT TO WRITE A BOOK CRITIQUING COLONIAL ARCHAEOLOGY IN EGYPT AND MAKE YOUR PROTAGONIST A RICH SPANISH ARGENTINIAN AKA A MEMBER OF THE FORMER COLONIAL RULING CLASS!!!! AND SAY ACTUALLY IT'S OK WHEN SHE DOES IT!!! listen to me Lindsay listen to me apparently some authors think colonialism isn't real when it's not done by English speakers what if. I lost my shit.

ALSO listen ok listen. No one is as cartoonishly evil as the one evil guy in this was in his very first conversation with our protagonist. He was like hmm did you know I think women are weak and also Egyptians are inferior to the English? And then stole shit from her and it's like where is the subtle insidious nature of widely accepted racism???? Where is the realism?? Why does it feel like this book is written as Baby's First Introduction To The Evils Of Colonialism And Misogyny?????? GIRL WE'VE BEEN KNEW

also frankly. Listen I hate female protagonists who make genuinely stupid decisions and it's held up as girlboss. She's like oh damn my parents are missing I'm going to travel to Egypt with NO PLANS with NO FRIENDS with NO EXPECTATIONS and like if she really felt driven to it FINE but no one's going to be doing that like yasss slay queen! That's going to be terrifying! Make it feel conflicted! Please!!!! Not a girlboss moment!

She meets a British man in his twenties btw and immediately insults him and blames him fully for British colonialism and like listen I'm completely on board with the politics but that is just a guy why are we being like this. he's just a guy. He's not The British Government.

But also what really annoyed me, frankly, is that our protagonist (fully cannot remember her name) has extremely modern liberal politics regarding women, race, Colonialism, class, etc. but the thing is that she IS from the ruling elite in the late 1800s. She's extremely wealthy, she's given an unexpected amount of control over her own life, she has servants. And ok to me, if people are served by the status quo they need a reason to want to break it. And we're never told why she does. The current system works specifically for her and her parents, there's no reason for her to hear alternate opinions and we're never told that she does or how she does, so her entire politics feel very empty because it's like the author wanted to have her cake and eat it too - she wanted an unproblematic modern character but to not have to deal with actual realities of how one becomes progressive. I know a lot of people who have this approach about modern day btw, they're like oh OBVIOUSLY we all agree on this one thing because that's The Good Opinion but it's still like no, you got that opinion from somewhere, probably the people around you. But in the book it never addresses at all where she and her parents got those opinions and it just feels a bit hollow.

Basically it's just not fun! And it's not original! And it's about a girl with no unique features as a YA protagonist who thinks like someone from 2024 but exists in 1884 and is somehow excused from the fact she is also complicit in a colonial system so she can show her anti-colonial girlbossery! Also the male protagonist is obsessed with her immediately but in the most boring predictable way possible he's so bland I'm sorry.

This isn't even getting into the fact it's weirdly paced and the mystery is kinda stupid, I frankly don't know if it redeems itself in that regard because I didn't finish but yeah it kinda sucked.

[linkedsoul]

HI MY FRENCHIES FROM THE 3RD CIRCUMSCRIPTION OF FRENCH PEOPLE ABROAD aka my French residents of Northern Europe and especially London: (and my English speaking followers who'd like to French elections drama)

Macron's candidate, Vincent Caure, is blatantly lying on his program about his opponent's party, the NFP, which feels very dishonest and, frankly, kind of pathetic? I know Frenchies in London voted a lot for him but PLEASE let's not let a liar get ahead of the race.

He claims the NFP - a coalition of green and leftist parties - will have Mélenchon as Prime Minister. For some reason, the French media is OBSESSED with making Mélanchon (the leader of a prominent leftist party) THE DEVIL. Look. I know some people don't like Mélenchon even on the left. But he's NOT EVEN PART OF THIS ELECTION. Besties: he's not a candidate anywhere. And even less for French people abroad. And even worse: the NFP has NEVER said who they'd send as Prime Minister if they get the majority in the assembly. This is FAKE.

He pretends French people abroad will be doubly taxed because of the NFP wants to put back the "exit tax", and that the NFP is obsessed with the universal tax (aka paying taxes for your country even when you work abroad). The exit tax is a specific tax that affects only people who own A LOT in assets. I have no idea how to even reach to that kind of criteria. I don't think neither me nor any of the French people I know in Dublin have the assets required to have to pay the exit tax. I wish I had that amount of money so I could get taxed on it! Alas, Vincent Caure and I don't live in the same world because it's not even remotely a worry for me. As for the universal tax, it's nowhere in the NFP's program so I guess they're not as obsessed with it as Vincent claim they are.

He offers to put more procedures online such as passpot renewal online whereas the NFP offers nothing. Ok slay king, then run your campaign on that instead of telling lies. Unless this is your only good point?

He claims that the NFP wants to end nuclear energy, which would make us depend on Russian gas. Nowhere is this written on the NFP program. There are only 4 mentions of the word "nuclear" in the NFP program and none of it is associated to the word "stop" or "end", half of them are not even about nuclear energy itself... I don't see where he got that from.

He does agree that the NFP wants to make railways more accessible but argue that they didn't vote for a law making mobility within France easier. Fair! He forgets to mention most of the supporters of this law were his party only and BOTH LEFT AND RIGHT voted against, citing lack of funding for this law as an issue, that the Prime Minister back then brushed away, so take that what you will. Also want to note his only point for this program is that they're going to use the funding for transport that they already have so... ok good? that's not revolutionary. That's just expected.

He also claims that:

the left is the one who led to the far right taking the lead when it's his own party who called for an election. Like. The move no one expected nor wanted except the far right. That was all Macron. That was all your party. You guys flirted so much with the far right that you led them right in, that is NOT the left's fault and even less your favorite scapegoat, Jean-Luc Mélenchon - who, I'd like to remind everyone, is not a candidate for this election oh my god shut up about Mélenchon already I don't care about Mélenchon why are you obsessed with Mélenchon

The left wants a Frexit because of their tax policies (debunked above) and nuclear energy policies (also debunked above). The left is notoriously pro-EU, his opponent is a British-French citizen who probably saw the shitshow of Brexit from the front rows. And even if the left wants to tax VERY rich people trying to avoid being taxed on their huge assets out of France (fun fact: it's for the people who try and get their assets moved to Dubai not to pay taxes on them lmao) and wanted to reduce the use of nuclear energy, that does not equate Frexit, like, I... I don't see the correlation.

The left is planning for 300 billion more expenses and intends to cover for those expenses by taxing people the most. The thing he's not saying is that they intend to tax the richest. It's the rich the target. The very VERY rich. Not you, regular French immigrant to Ireland who struggles with the cost of life in Dublin and cry for a better flat.

ALL IN ALL: Vincent Caure is a liar who ment comme un arracheur de dent et fait sa campagne dessus, ce qui est un peu dégueu.

He cries about potential taxes that would only affect a very, very tiny minority of French people who were probably trying to evade said taxes anyway and tries to frame it as "double taxing French people abroad"

The left wants to tax the rich and good for them and good for us who are not playing in the targeted tax bracket AT ALL.

Macron's party is the one who's fucked us all over; Attal is a notoriously impopular Prime Minister; they're a party for the rich (as proven above by trying to act as if a tax on the rich was gonna be a double tax for everyone like... lmao how out of touch are you) and love to frame themselves as the only right solution QUAND C'EST EUX QUI NOUS ONT MIS DANS LA MERDE

As with the rest of his party, he's obsessed with Mélenchon, who has nothing to do with this specific election since the opposition is initially from the Green Party.

SVP SI VOUS ÊTES DANS LA 3E CIRCONSCRIPTION DES FRANÇAIS À L'ÉTRANGER, VOTEZ CHARLOTTE MINVIELLE AU MOINS POUR NE PAS ÊTRE REPRÉSENTÉ PAR UN CANDIDAT QUI VOUS MENT SANS HONTE POUR AVOIR DES VOTES

and for my English speaking friends: please pray for us all (at least here the far right is not gonna pass but I'd rather not have such a liar for deputee please and thank you)

ET COMME TOUJOURS, ON EMMERDE LE FRONT NATIONAL!

[johnny-cornd0g]

Personal Canonical Batman/Fam Timline (Part One)

Bruce Wayne has a lot of kids and a lot of character development. This post is gonna be my personal ideas about the timeline of him, his kids, and his villains. It'll start from when his parents get killed to the time Damien becomes Robin. This timeline is the first I am making on here and is therefore incredibly subject to change.

Pre- Dick Grayson Era

Bruce Wayne's parents, Thomas and Martha Wayne, are murdered in Crime Alley. Something about Martha's pearl necklace.

Bruce is unofficially adopted by Alfred, the Wayne family butler, who used to be a British spy. I think Alfred is a pretty good dad, but Bruce is Bruce and will still end up messed up.

He is also 10 years old at this time. This will be a reoccurring theme. Keep it in mind.

As he grows up, he starts studying to fight crime. All the lessons. Maybe he meets Ted Grant, known as Wildcat, to learn fighting.

During all this, I think Lucius Fox is running Wayne Enterprises while Bruce is off doing sad orphan stuff.

Bruce falls into a cave beneath Wayne Manor. It's filled with bats. It scares him, but then he figures out "Hey I can maybe capitalize off of this".

So he becomes Batman. I don't have anything too specific to say. He's just Batman for a bit. Pretty flawed, but he gets the hang of it.

Bruce also has already come up with his morals at this point. No guns and no killing. Specifically no killing.

Alfred gets to keep his guns, though. It's Alfred. This isn't really important, but I'd still like to emphasize it.

Bruce also takes over Wayne Enterprises as the hot orphan bachelor billionaire playboy of Gotham.

Era Villain Roster

Joker: he's there from the beginning. I kinda like the idea that he was the first Red Hood, but he got shoved into chemicals by Batman and became the Joker.

Catwoman: I think she fits in this era. No other opinions about it. Maybe start her and Batman's romance in the earlier years.

Bane: I think he'd show up a bit before Dick enters the picture. You'll see why in a second.

Poison Ivy: Same with Catwoman, I think. But also, I like the idea of Bane and Poison Ivy teaming up, due to watching that Batman and Robin movie when I was younger. It stuck with me.

Two-Face: Oooorugghh Bruce's old lawyer buddy is like half insane and angry. Good for him. He'll go here for now.

Riddler: Same reasons for Catwoman. He's just here.

Scarecrow: I'd like it if he got progressively spookier as the story grew. Like- he's giving people panic attacks and spooky hallucinations NOW, but some years later, he's giving people psychological breakdowns.

Penguin: Same reasons for Catwoman and Riddler.

Dick Grayson Era

Carnival comes to town in Gotham. The Flying Graysons are a hoot, but the Mafia (???) doesn't think so.

The trapeze equipment is sabotaged, and Dick's parents fall to their deaths. Dick is 10 years old at this time.

Bruce happened to be watching this whole ordeal and sees himself in this newly made orphan. So he adopts him, naturally.

Dick finds out Bruce is Batman somehow, and Batman brings someone from the Mafia (??) who killed his parents to the Bat Cave. Dick has a choice: kill this guy or choose mercy.

Dick chooses mercy, and Bruce tells him, "Cool, you can be my sidekick now"

I like this one story of how Dick got the Robin name. He makes the classic Robin suit, but with a hood. He wants to call himself Robin Hood.

Bruce pulls the hood over Dicks face, because that is gonna be the easiest way to take him down. "Lose the hood, you're Robin."

So it's Batman and Robin for a good bit. Until Barbara Gordon is going around as her own vigilante, known as Batgirl.

Bruce is like, "Sure, why not?" and it's a team of three now.

At some point, during a big fight, Bane breaks Batman's back. Super humbling experience overall. Robin and Batgirl take care of Gotham while he recuperates.

I think this would also be the era when Bruce meets Superman and Wonderwoman. The inkling of the idea of the Justice League appears.

I don't really know why Dick stops being Robin and becomes Nightwing. Either he decides he's outgrown the title or Batman, or he's sick of Bruce giving criminals brain trauma.

But Dick becomes Nightwing at around 17 years. I think during this time, he makes and runs the first iteration of the Teen Titans. He moves into Blüdhaven and is the main vigilante there.

I like the idea that he got the name Nightwing from hanging out with Superman. Nightwing was apparently a super cool vigilante back in Krypton, and Dick got inspired.

Barbara stays back in Gotham to keep being Batgirl.

Era Villain Roster (adding onto previous)

Killer Croc: I don't really know where to put this guy. He doesn't have a lot of extreme plot relevance. He can go here.

Harley Quinn: I'm putting her here before Jason shows up. I'll explain why-ish in the Jason Todd Era.

Clay Face: Same thing as Killer Croc. He can go here.

Thanks for reading, if you've read this far! I've been wanting to write this down for a good while, and it feels good to have it all down.

Sorry if I sidelined your favorite Batman villain. I swear, most of these characters are going to get at least one post about them, especially if I receive more info on them. I have thoughts about all of them, I promise you.

This is all my opinion, a mix of what I have read or watched or heard about the characters so far. I am extremely open to new ideas, opinions, and thoughts. Everything I write in this blog is subject to change.

The next batch of Batman Eras will come out soon. Thanks for reading!