#which to be clear I did NOT mean to do at all.

[eldritch-shitposting]

Went with "it depends on the situation" but really it's more dependent on the parameters of how my powers work.

Because I rolled up "Illusions"

And if it was just 'make illusions' then that's clear.

But the poll specifies control over illusions. So what does that mean? Does it mean I can control the illusions another magic user creates? Like some villain starts making illusions and I can make them do the hokey-pokey at will? Then I'm probably a hero, but only during the very specific times that an illusions making villain is running around. Day to day, I'm just an average joe, because seriously, how did I even learn I have this power? Was my best friend in college a kitsune? How many illusion makers ARE there around anyway?

On the other hand, if we take illusions more broadly...

Illusions as in 'sleight of hand' kind of tricks of perspective? The kind the average street magician makes happen? Then I'm probably a villain, in the sense that I find a magician and then screw them over by manipulating their own illusions in order to expose them or something and like, that's fine if they're frauds who are running a cult. But really, on average, most people who do illusion tricks like that are just having fun and in the business of entertaining. They don't need taken down.

If we talk about illusions as in people's interior illusions? The false things they think about themselves or the world? If I can manipulate that, I've probably gone full cult leader, because I'm also manipulating my own internal illusions to buy my own bullshit that I'm feeding everyone else and now I'm a god king on earth and no one can convince me or my followers otherwise. We're getting kind of into thought control territory, though, which might be stretching things?

If we talk about illusions as in, oh... television media? Because pretty much every single show has some amount of illusion used to make whatever is happening believable to the audience...

Then it's all a matter of perspective as I use my power over media to tear down the current social-political hierarchy and insert my own. Villain? Hero? All depends on how much you like how things were versus how things are going to go...

You discover that you have control over a certain thing, as determined by spinning this wheel. We're talking full-on magical girl/superhero/supervillain/your label of choice control.

[salvieslovenotes]

give me vi who's just a total hot mess...

Don't get me wrong, I love confident Vi who knows exactly what she's doing, a little smug and self-assured that she knows exactly what you like and how to give it to you. Who always has a shadow of a smirk tugging at her lips. But I feel we're sleeping on canon Vi—like that girl was a mess. Did you not see the way she looked at Cait?! My girl is the definition of "sure babe whatever you say".

So here's some little hot mess Vi headcanons I love

She's always bumping into stuff. She's got bruises all over her hips and legs from the amount of times she's caught herself on the table corner or counter top. It's gotten to the point where if there's a cupboard door open on a high shelf, you automatically cover the corner with your hand when Vi's around because she'd pretty much guaranteed to bang her head.

On that note, she's always dropping things. She's not allowed to touch the fancy dinner plates or empty the dishwasher because of it. Every few months you have to buy new glasses because yup, the others are all somehow broken. Again. ("I don't understand where they all go!" Vi complains, genuinely confused "I can't have broken them all.... did I?" Spoiler alert she did, in fact, break them all.)

Still on that note, she trips over everything. Everything, her path could be completely clear and she'd still stumble. It's sort of endearing, like you're leaving your flat and she's tripping over the front mat—"Who the fuck put that there?" She's so indignant it makes you smile. "We did, it's a mat. You know, the thing that goes before a door?"

When undressing you or tugging off her own clothes, she'll inevitably get an arm tangled, or struggle with buttons or a belt buckle. It always makes you both laugh a bit, because she's always so impatient and gets stuck on the smallest things. "Who the fuck invented these?" she laughs, amused at herself, her shaky fingers. But when you try to help she'll whine, "No, no, almost got it." (Half of your clothes end up ripped when she inevitably loses patience.)

She's super clever and can pick up things pretty quickly, but she's always trying to cut corners and experiment to make it "easier." Baking? Who needs all that measuring crap, she can just eyeball it. And sure, the cake tastes amazing, but it also swelled up like a balloon because she accidentally tipped in half the container of baking soda. The fire alarm gets set off at least once a week; now if you smell smoke you just... leave her to it.

She's super into tech and fixing stuff, which means lots of taking things apart, and the odd yelp here and there as she gives herself small electric shocks. One time you come home to smoke wafting through the kitchen, the distinct smell of burning rubber and a very sheepish Vi, who accidentally melted some kitchen utensils. How?! You don't even ask. (After that she has to work in the garage.)

She's always covered in grease from "improving" things on her motorbike. You're terrified every time she takes it for a spin, thinking for sure one of those "improvements" is going to get her in some sort of trouble.

Climbing onto the roof without shoes to fix something, sticking her hand through a dubious hole in the wall without gloves, leaning close to a faulty socket without glasses. "Hey, don't panic Cupcake, what's the worst that could happen, huh?" and you wave a wild hand around "Ugh, you could die?!"

Like sure, she's confident and daring and smirks her way through everything, but also laughs until she chokes, and pulls every "push" door, and basically will fall over her own feet if she's not gripping your hand. She thinks dad jokes are hilarious and doesn't know her way around your neighbourhood even though she literally grew up there. Whenever she's out you'll inevitably get a "hey I'm lost" call. "Where are you?" "Uhhh, like... opposite a post office?" You think for a second, orientating yourself. "Okay, turn so the post office is on your left, and keep walking." There's dubious silence from Vi's end and you sigh, biting back a smile. "Your left, like the hand you write with." "Ohh! Got it, got it..."

In a new city it's even worse, because she refuses to use maps. "Who needs directions when you can have adventure and discovery!!" "Vi, I'd hardly call the red-light district of Paris adventure, I just wanna see the bloody Eiffel Tower!"

Walking out in the sexist outfit ever, tattoos on full display, chains around her waist and looking unholy in steel capped boots, and your mouth has never been so dry in your whole life and "Hey Cupcake, can you help me? The stupid zip is tangled..."

anyway disaster Vi everyone, she has my whole heart

[witherby]

What would happen if any if the batfamilys enemies kidnapped baby y/n and ended up hurting them badly?

I'm happy to tell you, but not in any fantastic detail. When you say "baby" I think "infant, no teeth, still in diapers, etc."

Content warning for bruises on an infant

--

The contexts in which you would not be with a family member as an infant are very few and far between. I'm thinking a couple of your brothers have you on an outing, like a soiree or a networking lunch for Wayne Enterprises, where they have to put the masks away and act like civilians. There's lots of people around, their attention spans are divided, and they're also counting down the minutes until it's socially acceptable to leave.

When that time finally hits, Dick politely excuses himself and goes to collect you and Tim so they can head home. But he only finds Tim.

And Tim turns and only sees Dick.

"I thought you were watching them," Tim says, immediately turning sheet white. Dick's complexion is the same.

"I thought you were watching them."

Cue the immediate panic. Tim has his phone out and is trying to pinpoint your location via the tracker they put in all your pacifiers. Dick's eyes are sweeping the area for any signs of you having either crawled away or gotten scooped up by some confused and well-meaning socialite.

You are far away, and getting farther. Someone definitely took you on purpose. They don't hesitate before leaving the gathering and radioing backup. They'll handle all the screaming and scolding from everyone else as long as you get back home safe.

Whoever did take you, be it someone from the usual rogues gallery or a rando that likes kidnapping kids, it doesn't take long for them to catch up to him. It also doesn't take long to do any damage, either, so when they do find you, it's unfortunately with some significant bruising. Your chubby cheeks are red from tears and your arms and waist have handprint bruising from being dragged around, but nothing is broken or bleeding.

Your brothers can't say the same for the one that had the balls kidnap you. He should be thankful Jason was already on another mission.

(Jason comes back and pays him a visit anyway. Nobody gets to lay a fucking finger on you.)

In the aftermath, you're almost overwhelmed by the attention. You don't sleep in your nursery alone again for months; either someone is in there with you, or you're simply relocated to one of their bedrooms for the night. You're handled so, so delicately, like you're made of porcelain. It's all very soft play and quiet voices for a couple days. If you flinch at contact, either due to the trauma of the kidnapping or because someone brushed against a bruise that's still healing, there will be tears shed from that person.

Bruce notices you flinch when he burps you after a feeding and he has to sit on the floor with you in his lap because his hands are shaking so badly.

Damian will not touch you directly at all. If you need to be picked up, he's fashioning a hammock to slowly and gently roll you into and then carry you off.

Alfred maintains the calmest facade when he carries you around, but if you make any kind of whine or pained face, he has to take a moment alone to recollect himself.

Dick and Tim can barely stand to look at you. They're overwhelmed with guilt for assuming the other person was watching you and not simply double-checking themselves.

Jason asks Tim if he can do some tummy time with you, and he just straight up shakes his head.

Dick fucks up his sleep schedule keeping an eye on you in the night, because even though Dr. Thompkins cleared you, what if she missed something and you develop a complication and need help? He doesn't patrol Blüdhaven properly for weeks, instead coming over to Gotham to keep vigil at your window.

Needless to say, the general public does not see you again for months, and when they do, you are with the entire family. They will not let that happen again.

[gizdathemxel]

CLARIFICATION NEEDED!!!!!

okay when i said “do not put afab/amab/tma/tma in your bio, that is cisgender society’s attempt at knowing your “real” gender” i did NOT meant to undermine the language/discussion that tme/tma was meant to provide!!! i think conversations about transmisogyny are extremely important BUT i also think that they are very very nuanced!!!!!!!!!

my issue with tma/tme is that it’s often used as a quick shortcut to see if a person is a transfem or transmasc and quickly sort the two and also that most online discourse does not rlly account for how transphobia, transmisogyny, and even transandrophobia, exomisia, intersexism, etc interact with each other !!!

@/oncelerfucker described how tme/tma is far more nuanced than a lot of people realized far better than i ever could so i rlly recommend reading their reblog.

tbh bigots do not care at ALL to be precise in their bigotry towards others; they see “person is similar to group i don’t like = i do not like person” and go off. as a member of the african diaspora (1st gen AA), i could make a MILLION posts about how black caribbeans/afrolatinos, black Europeans, etc are NOTHING like me and that i’m better than them (not true btw) and an antiblack racist will not GAF about those distinctions. they see black and their brains short circuit. There ARE distinctions, and they DO matter but they are not as clear cut as we might think! Now obviously there are finer nuances between race that is very separate from gender and sexuality but the general principle applies.

my issue is not inherently the terms tme/tma but rather how quickly they are flattened labels of ONLY identification, rather than bases of discussion. The transmisogyny a trans lesbian experiences may not be the same transmisogyny a straight trans woman experiences, but it makes neither of their transmisogynistic experiences lesser nor will a transmisogynist really bother to make that distinction. That distinction matters, but it shouldn’t be used to say “this person is more privileged than that person”.

i have seen the weird lateral violence that transfems and transmascs pit against each other as some groups say transmascs experience afab privilege (because their femininity is more easily accepted; which is not at all true) and other groups say that transfems experience male privilege/socialization (bc they grew up as male, so they would be privy to that privilege; also not at all true).

Both of these groups are noticing something accurate, but they are making incorrect assumptions about how this social dynamic works and blaming the wrong people. they incorrectly assume that the trans person on the opposite side of them is their enemy, when it’s so obviously not.

tldr (sorry i’m a ranter at heart); tme/tma are not inherently bad terminology, and discussions of transmisogyny (as well as all other forms transphobia and bigotry) function in society and how they affect certain groups of people are EXTREMELY IMPORTANT!!!!! i want to make it super obvious when i say that i am NOT trying to diminish anyone’s oppression or their voices, and im super sorry for the confusion!!! my true issues with tma/tme is how it’s utilized on the internet, rather than actually holding nuanced conversations, i see it flattened into another gender binary, where the supposed space for nuance is instead eaten up by lateral violence* of who is really the evil group of trans people holding us good trans people back from trans liberation. please please please keep having these discussions and please please please keep allowing the space for nuance in an increasingly polarized world.

(i still generally stand by not putting ur agab in ur bio bc i PROMISE u the wrong people are going to use that against u)

*when i say lateral violence, i do not mean actual physical violence but rather the term that refers to groups within similar social status attacking/othering each other. i’m saying that trans people are generally within the same social strata but sometimes we might weaponize the bigotry a certain group of trans people experiences in order to “elevate” ourselves (sidenote: this does not and never will work)

*gripping my hands so hard on a young trans persons shoulders that their bones are about to break*

do not log on to 4chan.com. do not get involved in passing olympics. you will always lose. do not put afab/amab/tma/tme in your bio, that is cisgender society trying to know your “real” gender. you do not exist to please cisgender people. there is no ‘right’ way to be trans. learn your goddamn history, listen to your elders. listen to other disenfranchised groups. listen to intersex people and check yourself for intersexism. listen to trans poc and check yourself for racism. listen to disabled people and check yourself for ableism. be open to learning always. labels are meant to fit you, not the other way around. you are not weird or predatory for simply being attracted to others. you’re fine if you’re not a skinny white twink or a barbie doll. you’re fine if your body is ‘weird’. you’re fine if you don’t have heavy or any dysphoria. it’s okay if you actually don’t want to transition or anything like that. life is worth living at any stage, you deserve to be happy. I SWEAR THAT YOU ARE OKAY!!!!!

[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 ♡⃕ before falling in love : percy jackson

▰▰▰ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

Percy finds a list y/n made in order to fall in love, he's determined to be the one to complete it.

warnings: briefly hinted cabin 7 reader

author: this is inspired by the book mi conquista tiene una lista by Inma Rubiales. Recommended if you like cheesy romcoms (as i do) and can read in spanish !!

Percy didn’t mean to find it, really. He didn’t mean to pry into her things; it felt like an invasion of privacy. But she was the one that had sent him to look for a paintbrush while she was painting, and he wasn't at fault if said paintbrush was beside a piece of paper that called for his attention. 

'things someone has to do before I fall in love'

At first, he wants to go and tease her about it, but as he starts reading, he realizes this is his opportunity. 

He had been in love with her for so long he couldn't even pinpoint the exact moment. He has tried to get her to notice, but either she is too oblivious or she acts like it. 

But this list- this list is exactly what Percy needed. He can't tell her, of course, but he is sure that he can check off all the boxes in her list. Then, that's going to show her that he is at least worth a date. 

"Percy, did you find my paintbrush?" she calls from out of the cabin, he quickly pockets the piece of paper on his jeans and takes the brush to go with her. 

it is no big deal, he's just going to take the list with him to make sure he can follow it. She won't realize.  

1. sings with me (even if they can't sing well)  

Percy loves watching her in her element, how she gets absorbed once she's in front of the easel, the way her brush runs through the white canvas, how her brows furrow together when she makes a mistake that surely no one but her is able to notice. 

She sings when she's distracted, and percy loves it. Her voice is just perfect. And somehow, she always seems to know every song playing on the radio. 

And he always finds an excuse to just sit there and watch her as she paints. It's a wonder how she hasn't realized how utterly in love he is, because every time he looks at her with such love in his eyes that by this point, everyone in camp knows about it. 

Sometimes he helps her, mostly when she can't seem to find the paintbrush or pallete she needs, which is why he even found the list to begin with and- talking about the list! Percy remembers exactly what the first point was. 

Sing with her. Percy doesn’t like singing, he's sure that didn’t come with the list of talents provided by Poseidon. He thinks his voice is terrible and even the idea of singing an disturbing the beautiful sound of her voice was just wrong. 

So he starts small, humming along the music. He recognizes this one. That's a first. Even y/n seems surprised as she pauses for a moment, a small smile tugs at her lips before she goes back to painting, but Percy swears he sees the spark of amusement in her expression. 

"You know this one?" she asks, her tone light and teasing. "Come on, sing with me" 

"I’m not a singer" he mutters, immediately stopping his humming. "In fact, i'm terrible at singing." 

"Who said you had to be a good singer? It’s not an audition,” she teases, picking up a clean paintbrush and holding it out to him like a microphone. "here." 

Before he can even think about protesting, the chorus of the song kicks in, and she starts singing, her voice clear and cheerful. Percy groans, but he picks up the paintbrush as he starts humming again. 

She grins widely. "See? it's not that hard" 

"I’m still not singing, no way" he insists, though his voice is softer now, the edges of his reluctance smoothing out just by the sight of her smile. 

“Oh, you will,” she says confidently, twirling the paintbrush and pointing it at him like a challenge. "Come on, It’s a duet. You can’t say no." 

And he really can't, not because he cares about any duet whatsoever but just because he can't ever say no to her. 

Before Percy knows it, the words spill out of him, hesitant at first, but then stronger as he loosens up. He's Slightly off key, but she doesn’t seem to care. She cheers him on, laughing as he stumbles over the lyrics. 

"You know, you're actually not that bad." she teases as the song reaches its end.  

"You're ridiculous." he says between chuckles, handing the paintbrush back. 

"And you’re fun sometimes." she replies, beaming up at him. 

He gasps playfully. "Excuse you? sometimes?" 

When she burst out laughing, Percy smiles at her. He wasn't expecting checking off the first item on the list would be this easy. Or this fun. 

2. dances in the rain with me. 

The second item comes just as naturally as the first one. Percy doesn’t have to force anything, it just so happens that a few days later, it started raining just when they were walking back from sword training. 

Most campers around them take their things and run for cover. Percy's just about to do the same, knowing the rain is probably Zeus' doing and not wanting to be anywhere near it, when his eyes fall on her and stops right on his track. 

Far from being agitated by the sudden downpour like everyone else, she tilts her face up, laughing as the rain fall all over her. She looks so carefree, so beautiful, that Percy can hardly be blamed for allowing himself to be pulled into her orbit once again. 

Without hesitation, he steps forward, takes her hand, pulls her closer and spins her around. She is confused at first, but then she laughs, her face full of joy. 

Percy is not a good dancer in the slightest, but he tries just for her. He lets himself relax under the pouring rain, twirling her again and again, his hands holding her waist as she throws her head back, laughing like its the best thing in the world.  

He knows there are people around them, probably watching, but he can’t bring himself to care. Her smile, her laugh, make everything else fade into the background. It's like they are in one of those cheesy romantic movies that she has always seem to enjoy so much.  

When the moment slows, Percy reaches out and gently brushes wet strands of hair off her face. She leans into his touch, smiling softly, and for a second, he’s sure his heart skips a beat. 

"I didn’t know you were such a good dancer." she comments, her voice filled with amusement as she tries to catch her breath, raindrops running down her cheeks. 

I could be anything for you he thinks, but instead, he smiles playfully. "maybe i'm just full of surprises." 

3. creates something just for me 

bonus: 4. knows my favorite flower 

Percy realizes soon enough that not everything on the list is going to be as easy as simply going with the flow. He is good at a lot of things, but crafting isn't one of them, so going through the process of creating something was just- difficult to say the least. 

Still, he doesn’t want to half-ass this one, if she wants him to create something for her, then it'll have to be special. 

That's where Leo comes in, Percy has to beg the boy for his help. But once he ends up agreeing, it's all set to go. 

"metal flowers?" Leo repeats, leaning against the workbench in bunker nine. "Really, dude? you're whipped." 

Percy shrugs, trying to act casual. "She really likes flowers. And uh- she loves peonies." 

How does Percy knows she loves peonies? even he's surprised, he doesn't remember her telling him. But he simply knows. And he's sure of it, too.  

"And couldn't you simply buy her some flowers?" Leo asks, but Percy can already see the gears turning in his head. 

"She deserves something unique and special, doesn’t she?" He replies, and that seems to be enough for Leo. 

"Alright, let's get to work then." 

The two of them spend hours working together. Leo shows Percy how to mold and bend the metal into petal shapes. It's easier said than done, but after a few tries, Percy's able to do it by himself while Leo focuses on welding them together, because he doesn’t trust Percy won't end up burning down the bunker. 

When they're finally done, they have a steel peony. It isn't perfect, but Percy's proud of it. It feels special, and he can't wait to give it to her, he barely manages to thank Leo before he's rushing out of the bunker. 

He's able to find y/n on the stables, she has her hair in a ponytail, a few strands falling messily over her face. She's focused on grooming a pegasus, so she doesn’t notice Percy until he taps her shoulder. 

She's startled at first, but once she sees Percy, she visibly relaxes. "Oh hi Perce, do you need something?" 

Percy was excited, but now he's clearly nervous as he stutters through his words. "I- um- I made something for you." 

That gets her attention, she looks at him surprised as she sets the comb down. "You got me something? what do you-" 

Her words trail off when Percy pulls his creation from behind his back. She seems surprised, looking in between the flower he's holding and his face, as though she can't surely trust her eyes. 

"you like peonies, don't you?" he asks hesitantly, even though he had been one hundred percent sure of his choice a few hours ago. 

She opens and closes her mouth, words dying before they can escape her lips as she reaches and takes the steel peony from Percy's hand. 

It takes her just a moment to realize that Percy is still looking at her with eyes full of doubt, and then her lips finally curl up into a beaming smile. "Like them? Percy i adore peonies." she looks back at the flower in her hand, and she almost feels like crying. "It's so beautiful, how did you make it? how did you know I like peonies?" 

"I'm sure you've mentioned it before" he shrugs, trying to hide how nervous he is. "but i'm glad you liked it." 

"I love it." she reassures him, her smile wide. "thank you, Perce." 

And when she leans and kisses his cheek, he knows the effort was worth it. He would do anything just to make her happy. 

5. listens to me 

bonus: 6. shares his opinions with me 

Some of these were the easiest because, well- Percy already did them. It was the minimum he could do, really. Listening to her came as a second nature. 

He could be in a room full of people, all of them talking at once. but the moment y/n's voice filled his ears, he would be the first one listening. 

Right now, he's in the middle of a shouting match with Clarisse. Cabin meetings always go just like this, they waste the first hour without accomplishing anything, the other counselors are used to this by now.  

"I'm just saying, we shouldn't show any weakness! we should focus on our defense." Clarisse slams her palms against the ping pong table, her voice rising. "we're still vulnerable and we shouldn't rely on a stupid dragon for everything!" 

"And i'm just saying." Percy fires back, already losing what little patience he has. "We need to focus on training new campers first, we-" 

Clarisse cuts him short, it's not the first time she has done it. "what better training than patrolling the borders?" 

"We won't send our new campers to fight monsters without any previous training!" His voice rises, everyone else stares like they're watching a tennis match. "We won't send them to die, have you gone mad?" 

Before Clarisse can reply, surely to fire back with some offense on her part, y/n's voice cuts through the noise. 

"Okay, let's calm down." Percy's head whips towards her the moment she talks, the heat of the argument forgotten the moment his eyes find hers. "you both have a point." 

"but-" Clarisse starts again, but Percy's faster. 

"let her talk" he interrupts before they can get into another argument.  

y/n falters for a moment. She isn’t even supposed to be at this meeting, she’s only covering for Will, who’s stuck at the infirmary with some campers who got into a fight. She feels out of place and is ready to choke on her words. But when her gaze meets Percy’s, he nods at her and offers a small, reassuring smile. It’s all she needs to find the courage to continue. 

She takes a deep breath and then keeps going. "Defense is important, but we do need more trained campers. Maybe we could compromise? Split the efforts? Half the camp focuses on guarding the borders, while the other half works on training?" 

There's a murmur of agreement amongst everyone else at the table, even Clarisse seems to deflate as she acknowledges the logic in her suggestion. But her eyes are still focused on Percy, she might not say it out loud but she values his opinion. 

"Actually" he says after a beat, his voice softer now. "that’s not a bad idea. If we rotate shifts, we could cover both." 

Clarisse rolls her eyes at Percy, but she finally concedes. “Fine. That works.” 

y/n allows herself a small, satisfied smile. Percy catches it, and he can’t help the grin that spreads across his own face. 

He knows this isn't the first time she was able to calm him down or change his perspective on something, it probably won't be the last either. He'd simply listen to her anytime. 

7. Shares his interests with me 

It takes Percy a lot of convincing to get her to even step into the water. She’s suspicious of his plan and stalls for ages before finally caving to his begging and jumping in. 

It’s worth it, though, because Percy gets to hold her close under the guise of teaching her how to swim. 

"Okay don't panic." He says gently as he guides her into the water. "just lay on your back and try floating, i've got you." 

She gives him a skeptical look, but he smiles and hesitantly places his hands on her waist, gently guiding her to lie back. His touch is steady, reassuring, and slowly, she begins to relax. 

"There you go, see? it wasn't that hard." Percy says softly, not wanting to disrupt the peace of the moment. 

"Well, i'm not drowning, so that's a win" she jokes, earning a chuckle from Percy. 

As the time goes on, Percy shows her how to kick her legs, how to paddle with her arms, and she was able to float by herself in no time, clumsily treading through water while she laughed.  

"You're a natural." he says, though he's already missing holding her close. 

She splashes him, when he laughs, she has to ignore the way her heart flutters in her chest. "Maybe I just have a great teacher." 

By the time the sun started to set in the sky, they had spent hours swimming around, splashing each other and laughing. Being able to see her smile while she floats close to him, Percy feels his chest tighten, a warm spreading through him. 

"I-" love you. Percy is able to catch himself before the words can slip out of his mouth. "thank you for coming with me." 

Her eyes sparkle like they're holding a million stars in them. "Thank you for teaching me how to swim." 

Percy's in love, and he knows he won't be able to keep it to himself for much longer. 

8. stargazes with me

The moon is high in the sky by the time they climb out of the water, the gentle sounds of waves lapping against the shore filling their ears. The air is cooler now, and y/n shivers as droplets of water trickle down her skin. 

Percy notices immediately, and he grabs a towel, wrapping it around her shoulders as they sit down on the pier. "Here." 

"Thank you." She smiles at him warmly. 

For a moment, they sit in silence, their feet dangling over the edge of the pier, toes grazing the water. The sky above them is impossibly clear, stars scattered across the sky. The moonlight casts a soft glow on Percy's face, and she can't help but stare at him just a little longer than she'd like to admit. 

She quickly looks away when he turns to glance at her, busying herself with admiring the sky instead. "it's beautiful out here." 

"Yeah." he replies, his eyes fixated on her. "it is." 

She doesn’t notice at first, too distracted by the way the constellations seem to shine just for them. But when she turns her head to make a comment, she catches him looking at her instead of the sky. 

Her heart skips a beat, but she tries to ignore her reaction behind a small laugh. "Do you know the constellations?" 

"Not really." he admits, shrugging. "I mean, I know of a few, but I always end up mixing them up." 

She smiles softly, pointing at a small cluster of stars. "That one's Orion's belt." 

Percy squints at the sky, following her finger. "Oh right, I see it now." 

Just like that, they fall into an easy rhythm of pointing out constellations, or at least trying to. When they can’t find one, they make up their own, laughing as they assign ridiculous names to each star. 

Eventually, the laughter fades away and they're left with the sound of waves crashing to fill the silence. She hums happily, resting her head on Percy's shoulder. 

"Thank you for today." she murmurs softly. 

Percy feels a warm on his chest he's become too familiar to. "Anytime." 

9. always tells me the truth 

it takes a week for y/n to notice the list is missing. And she's immediately panicking. She had written that list as a spur of the moment, something so personal she couldn't even think about sharing it with anyone.  

As her siblings leave for breakfast, she stays behind. She has already torn her side of the cabin apart, but there’s no sign of the pink paper she used to write the list. 

She's full on freaking out when someone knocks on her door. She's about to tell whoever is at the door to go away, but then she turns around and finds Percy standing by the doorway.

The effect is immediate. Just the sight of him makes her body relax, even if only slightly. Percy has always had that effect on her, it's like the world slows down for a moment, and the chaos in her mind quiets.

"Hey, I wanted to talk to you" he smiles at her, but once he notices her panicked expression, he raises his eyebrows hesitantly. "Are you okay?" 

She freezes, unsure whether to lie or spill everything. But as her eyes meet his, she crumbles under his gaze.

"No" she admits quietly. “I lost something really important.” 

Percy steps inside, closing the door behind him. “Maybe I can help you find it, what did you-” 

He stops himself mid-sentence just as the realization dawns on him. He knows what she lost. He has it on his pocket. 

She doesn’t even seem to notice his sudden change of attitude, she's too busy pacing around the room. "It's a piece of paper but it's personal. And very important. I can't lose it Percy." 

Percy has to stop her before she keeps talking. "i have it." 

She stops on her tracks, looking up at him with wide, worried eyes. "What?"

Percy takes a deep breath, his fingers trembling as he pulls the pink paper from his pocket. It's Slightly crumpled now, but unmistakable. "I have your list."

y/n's white as a ghost as she silently looks at him, so he keeps talking. "I swear I wasn't trying to snoop or anything. It was just there when I came to find the paintbrush you asked for and I-" 

"Did you read it?" she asks, her voice barely a shaky whisper. 

Percy nods, guilt flashing across his face. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have, but… I've been working through it." 

Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Her face flushes with a mix of disappointment and embarrassment, and she snatches the paper from his hand, clutching it tightly. 

"Percy you don't understand." she shakes her head, tears gathering on her eyes. "When I wrote this list, I didn’t want anyone to see it, because I didn’t want whoever completed it, did it just because they had to." 

He understands where she's coming from, he really does. Which is why he doesn’t panic and simply takes a step towards her, carefully reaching to take her hand. "No you don't understand. y/n, I didn’t do those things because I had to do them, but because I wanted to. Everything on there- it’s stuff I’d already do for you anyway." 

Her breath catches in her throat, but she doesn’t take her hand away from him. 

"I already love listening to you, and I share my opinions with you because I want you to know the real me. I made that flower because you deserved something special, and I already knew your favorite flowers were peonies. I taught you to swim because I wanted to share that part of my world with you, and every time I spend time with you is because-" he closes his eyes for a moment, he knows he can't keep hiding his feelings." simply because I love you, I love seeing you smile and I love hearing your laugh. So of course, I'd do anything just to spend time around you." 

His words take away her breath, but she can only focus on three specific words. "You what?" 

"I love you." he replies, no hesitation. "And if this changes anything between us, I’ll understand. But I just can't keep pretending I don't love you." 

For a long moment, she stands frozen, clutching the list in her hand. Her heart races wildly, and her hands tremble. But as the truth of his words sinks in, a realization washes over her like a wave. 

She thinks back to every moment they’ve shared, how he's always the first person she looks for in a room. She thinks about how she's always looked for his comfort, how he always listened to her and made her feel safe, like she belongs. 

She thinks about writing that list. And how it always felt so specific, like no one could surely fulfill it. And it was always because she had one person in mind while writing it. him. 

It hits her all at once: she loves him too. She’s been in love with him for longer than she realized. 

"Percy" she mumbles, her voice soft and her eyes full with tears. "I love you too." 

That's everything he needs to hear. He doesn’t even need to ask for confirmation. He can see it in her eyes. He knows. 

Before she adds anything else, Percy leans in, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, tender kiss. It’s everything she imagined and more, and she knows in that moment that every word he said was true. 

She loves him. She’s sure of it now, just as sure as she is that he loves her.

When he pulls back, there’s a smile on his face that makes her heart flutter. He reaches up, lightly tapping the paper in her hand, his voice warm and teasing. "Looks like you can cross the last item off your list."

10. Kisses me

[lqveharrington]

hii, i would love for you to do ‘the prophecy’ with fred weasley and ravenclaw reader!! thank you so much 💓

The Prophecy | F.W.

summary: fred’s starting to feel insecure in your relationship, and trelawney’s reading doesn’t make it any better.

pairing: fred weasley x ravenclaw!reader

includes: use of Y/N, insecure fred, a lot of overthinking, angst, fluff at the end

a/n: for some reason, this prompt stumped me so bad. so sorry if it’s not up to the usual standards 😭

One, two. One, two, three, four.

You impatiently counted how many times the alarm on Trelawney’s stupid clock would go off until she realized it wasn’t a crystal ball predicting a Hufflepuff's future. All you wanted was class to be over and be in the arms of your loving boyfriend, but they changed the house pairings for electives. Instead of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, it was Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Luckily, you still had all your core classes with Gryffindor.

As you lazily blew on the small braid you gave yourself in your boredom, a crack of lightning struck right outside, causing Trelawney to jerk in surprise with horror etched into her face. It looked like she had just seen the grim itself.

She whipped her head around and looked directly at you, taking your hands in her shaky ones. She read your palm like the lines had magically changed since last class, muttering quietly to herself until cleared your throat in confusion.

“My dear, you will receive ill-advised news by the end of the week.” She whispered and pulled your hand closer to her buggy eyes, furrowing her brows when she saw your life line. “Expect your spirit to be broken and rebuilt by the one you trust the most.”

Your lips kissed you teeth in an unsettling manner. Was this your punishment for not listening to her and sometimes making fun of her? Did she want to make you feel bad about your life choices? Sure you bored out of your mind in class but that didn't mean you wanted a horrid reading.

Your eyes flickered toward the dark sky outside again, watching as the lightening struck louder than the last. Trelawney sighed and patted your hand shut, dismissing everyone with a quiet wave. Everyone looked at her in bewilderment before slowly leaving the tower, murmuring amongst themselves.

Furrowing your brows and flexing your hand, you took your things and hastily made your way down the ladder, narrowly avoiding your face splattering on the stone floor. You always believed in everything factual — Ravenclaw, through and through — and you weren't actually sure why you chose Divination as your elective. The crystal balls and tea leaf readings never seemed credible, always predicting the same things over and over again.

However, the Weasley Twins loved Divination. They often made up their readings and passed with Outstandings. George believed he had a natural aptitude for the class whilst Fred said he had unlocked his inner eye. But what they both heavily believed in was Trelawney's words — which you thought was utter rubbish.

When you had Divination with them in sixth year, she told them that they would encounter a horrible noise, sending someone they love plummeting. That same week, Harry retreived his golden egg from the first task and revealed it to be screeching merpeople in the common room, causing the twins to drop him from their shoulders to cover their ears. From that day onward, they clung onto her every word like it was the sacred truth.

Which it wasn't.

Shaking all thoughts of Divination out of your mind, you made your down to the Great Hall. It was your potions study hall with the rest of the sixth years, and you needed time to decompress after whatever stupid prophecy Trelawney read off you.

You scanned the hall and smiled when you saw the twins, Lee, Alicia, and Angelina already working on their forty-inch essay for potions. Well, the girls were working on their essays. The twins and Lee were playing Exploding Snap — although they weren't very subtle with it.

The look on your face meant nothing but trouble. You shook your head and messed with them, putting your hands on the twins' shoulders and holding back a laugh when you saw them jump and pretend to work on their essays. Lee looked up at you and shook his head in amusement, nudging the two Weasleys to look behind them.

George was the first to turn and rolled his eyes when he saw you, scooting over so you could sit in between him and Fred. He took your bag and put it beside his on the ground, still grumbling under his breath.

"Blimey, Y/N. I thought Snape was going to take points off and give us detention again." George nudged your side with his elbow, ruffling your hair in the process.

"Again? What did you lot do in the few minutes it took for me to get here?" You tease and tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, grabbing your own parchment out with only ten-inches left for your essay.

You quietly worked on your essay while ensuring the mischievous trio stayed on task, every so often glancing up to make sure they were doing anything stupid. As you wrapped up your essay, you looked up to your right and met Fred's eyes. You gave him a soft smile but only earned a half-hearted, tight-lipped nod back.

Parchment crinkled under your hold before you released a breath. You pursed your lips and went back to your essay, forcing back the tears of frustration from spilling out. For the past two weeks, Fred began to grow more and more distant from you. You weren't sure what exactly prompted him to do so, but he wouldn't give you an answer and the rest of your friends... Well, they didn't know if you wanted to know from them.

You felt like you were slowly sinking further away from him and you couldn't do anything. Biting your tongue to stop anymore thoughts, you turned in your essay to Snape and swiftly left the Great Hall with no spare glances toward the Gryffindors.

The states of pity from your friends only made you feel like you were crumbling into forever broken pieces.

You sat with your back against a great oak, throwing another stone into the Black Lake. The ripples echoed and repeated until they settled, the small bubbles diminished.

The rays of the sun hit your eyes, causing you to wince softly. You turned to the side and fully expected Fred to be sitting next to you, a small frown etching its way to your lips when you saw nothing but the Hogwarts castle.

Fred usually came with you whenever you needed to relax, but thinking about the past few weeks only hurt your heart.

As the whispers from the Forbidden forest grew stronger and the sun slowly descended behind the trees, you shut your eyes and leaned your head against the tree. You wished you didn’t have to leave your spot; you were only just beginning to clear your mind.

Frustratedly, you rub your closed eyes with the palms of your hands, freezing when someone spoke from behind you. That someone having an all too familiar voice.

"Love, you're going to irritate your eyes."

Your head whipped around to stare at the boy you fell deeply in love with last year at the Yule Ball. The glare you threw at him could’ve petrified him. "You have no right to call me love after ignoring me for two — almost three — weeks.”

Fred swallowed thickly and sat on a boulder beside you. He knew he was in the wrong for avoiding you for so long without telling you the truth. He believed that it was better for you not to know, but what good was it in the long run?

"I know, I'm sorry." He mumbled and bit his lip, looking down at his tattered shoes rather than meeting your eyes. "It's okay if you never want to see me ever again or choose to hate me, but I avoided you because — " He paused and squeezed his eyes shut. Godric, he was going to sound like such a stupid prick. "Because of a prophecy Trelawney gave me."

Your mouth parted ever so slightly before you threw a small rocks at his legs. Your voice rang out clear and loud, reminding him of his own mother. "Are you kidding me? Frederick Gideon Weasley! You've been avoiding me because of a stupid reading?”

"I'm sorry! But what she said about me made it seem like you needed someone better!" He let your rocks hit him and huffed, frustration bubbling within himself. He took in a breath before looking back over at you. "She told me that the something I love will succeed but only if a great weight of unstableness no longer burdened it."

You crease your brows in confusion and drop the rest of your rocks onto the ground, shaking your head as he clenched and unclenched his fist. "What are you talking about?"

"Love, you're bloody brilliant." Fred met your eyes for the first time in days. All he wanted to do was have you in his arms again and press kisses everywhere he could, but he still owed an explanation to you. "You've passed all your OWLs with flying colors and you've studied so hard for you NEWTs." He buried his face in his hands and sighed. "I'm the burden that will hold you back if you choose to stay with me."

Your initial annoyance and anger melted away at his words, eyes softening at the sight of his dejected state. "Freddie, you're not a burden to me or anyone — “

He let out a laugh that sounded more like a scoff. "I have no money. When you need support, you wouldn't get any from me. I'm not good enough for you."

Five seconds of utter silence took over. The fluttering of the owls delivering mail overhead and the sounds of the curfew bell were the only things that were heard.

Before Fred could even register what was happening, you flung yourself into his arms and rested your head on his. He froze before wrapping his arms around your midsection, burying himself into your chest. He breathed in your scent, body releasing all the tension he had stored inside.

This wasn’t the first time Fred has ever felt insecure about your relationship. There had been other times where he felt like he wasn’t good enough for you, but you were always there to reassure him whenever he voiced them to you. It was horrible to see him act like someone other than his usual self. You loved who he was and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Freddie…” You rub his back gently and feel him melt into you. “I don't need any money. Your words are enough support for me.”

He only nodded in response, missing your touch after days of avoidance. Fred felt your move around so you were sitting beside him, your hands moving to turn his head toward you.

You smiled at him and thumbed his cheeks. "And didn't I tell you not to believe everything Trelawney says? I doubt she was taking about our relationship." You pressed a light kiss to his lips before pulling him into another hug, "I love you, Freddie. Don't ever forget that."

When he didn’t say anything, you pulled away and looked over his features, brows furrowing as you saw his teary eyes.

"Fred —?”

"I love you so much, woman." He murmured before capturing your lips in a mind-searing manner, feeling you smile into the kiss. Fred pulled away for a breath before placing another tender kiss to your lips, thumbing the bottom lip when you pulled away in a daze. "You're my soulmate."

You grin shyly and lean your head on his shoulder, looking up at him. "No more overthinking, okay?" You watched as he nodded at you, his face flushing a deep shade of red when you began to pepper kisses on his neck. Each kiss meaning the same thing.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Fred took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles, chuckling when you got flustered over a simply gesture. "You might make me fall even deeper in love with you."

You hummed and pressed one last kiss to his lips, both of you grinning like idiots in love. "Have I changed the prophecy yet?"

"Hm, you'll have to let me check again." He said softly and gave you one final breathtaking kiss, squeezing your hip. "I think so."

"I love you, Fred Weasley." You sigh happily and kiss his cheek. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[keepmycandleburning]

It's always frustrating to me when I see people's misunderstandings about the degree to which a writer's words and writing choices are intentional. There are many types of writing and some people may be writing for fun or whatever, but in a story that is complex and carefully put together, the writer's choices are not coincidences or things that just so happen to be that way, they are carefully and precisely made choices that are designed that way to communicate something to the reader.

Surprisingly often I will see people write these complex and meaningful HP analyses, and then end their post with 'but I'm sure Rowling didn't mean any of that, or even think about it, she just wrote it this way because she's stupid.' All of that was somehow magically in the text for you to find and analyze, and she didn't even mean to write it? EVERY word of these books was typed by a human hand and reread with human eyes.

Think of how for example people will say foolish things like 'Did JKR just forget that Bellatrix was married?' Bellatrix being married is a HUGE part of who she is, who Voldemort is, how the DEs function, how the traditional pureblood families and marriages and culture function... You're missing SO MUCH of the meaning in the text by denying the writer's intentionality.

Same with things like mistaking her world-building for being statements of her real-world beliefs. 'Here's an in-depth analysis of what the text implies about gender and sexism in pureblood culture... but JKR probably just wrote all this because she's sexist, and I magically put meaning into it that makes perfect sense' ??? The idea that a writer will only write sexism into their fictional world because they're communicating that they think sexism is good is insanity. Characters don't do things solely because their writer thinks that is proper behavior. Characters' behaviors or words, or elements of the fictional world the story exists in, are not straight-forward statements of what the writer thinks is good or ideal, and in fact are often the opposite. If you can't analyze things with such complexity, that's a problem with your reading comprehension, not with the text.

Or, when people will treat the text too much like it's a real life event that happened, rather than something that was carefully put together by hand to mean something. I love analyzing characters and the HP world like they're real, but when you find yourself denying meaning by using logic like 'well it probably just happened that way for no deeper reason' you're just misunderstanding what fiction is.

For example attempting to disprove the numerous hints at the Bellatrix/Voldemort relationship by saying things like 'but other people call her Bella so it could have meant anything' or 'there are other types of pleasure than sexual so it could have meant anything.' But why would Rowling choose that word? And put it right next to Bellatrix longing for his physical closeness? And why would she set up this exchange at all? Why 'lover'? Why 'lover' placed so directly with physical closeness and care? Why 'lover' and 'pleasure' and 'longing' and 'closeness' in the same book? Why have Harry point out that she's acting in an intimate way that invokes being lovers? Why do other characters later use 'Bella,' if not to communicate that it's used by people she considers/ed family?

When everything that 'could mean anything' all lead to the same answer, why is that? Why are you assuming Rowling's implications are for some reason unintentional? Unintentional over and over and over again? If many readers are catching it, why are you assuming she's not smart enough to catch it herself? The only person not catching it here is you. Word choices or words with clear connotations are not random or accidents or coincidences, particularly when several of them occur in quick succession or when it's associated repeatedly with the same two characters. Nor are characterizations or patterns in the text. If you read that way, that's a misunderstanding on your end (not with the author, not with other readers) so don't complain when you can't understand the text. 'I'm going to act like the person who wrote this is stupid, and therefore ignore everything that the text is saying, and then say the text sucks' is YOU being an idiot. Notice how other people don't have this issue when they analyze actual meaning and intentionality in the text

[bardicindignation]

okay okay okay so bear with me here, and keep in mind that a. I haven't watched the bad batch or anything Star Wars has put out since the Mandalorian season 2 and b. It's been a minute since I've listened to WTNV and I've only listened up to ep 146.

So! here we go!

I stand by my casting for Padme, Anakin, and Qui-Gon, but I actually think that Obi-Wan isn't the Steve Carlsberg of this AU-he's the Man in the Tan Jacket. I've read at least one WTNV fic where the Man in the Tan jacket is Cecil's brother that he has no memory of and I know this god jossed by later canon but I really liked the theory! But in this, he's not Padme's "brother" he's Anakin's, and Anakin is the one who has some kind of (Palpatine fuckery induced) memory issues. (more on this later)

I spent some time debating with myself over who would be the Tamika Flynn equivalent, was kinda waffling between Sabine and Ahsoka but then! It occured to me that, hey, Ahsoka's kind of close to Padme in canon, and she did the whole like wandering journey thing...So Ahsoka gets to be Dana Cardinal! (without the becoming the mayor part. I don't think that would suit Ahsoka tbh.) So, Sabine is our preteen explosive revolutionary, joined by Ezra. For no reason other than vibes, Dooku is definitely The Woman From Italy Serenno. (...Or maybe that's Mother Talzin and she's the Woman From Dathomir idk). Hmmm...alternatively, Dooku is Marcus Vanston and the Erika's are Force Ghosts. Yeah, Mother Talzin can be the Woman from Dathomir

The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home was kinda tricky, and frankly I feel like the Star Wars character who most matches in terms of Gremlin Vibes is Yoda, so we've got the Little Green Troll Who Secretly Lives In Your Home. (Look. It would be so funny to put Yoda in a mayoral race.)

Cut Lawquane, you know, the farmer.

As for Steve Carslberg, the honor goes to Sola Naberrie, towards whom Padme has an animosity two parts concealment of Sola's relationship to Padme Amidala (an open secret) and one part sibling aggravation.

I was super close to having Maul be Lauren (evil, talks too much) but then I thought it would be more fun if he, Savage, and Feral all make up a literally three-headed dragon.

As far as Clones go, I think that they were secretly created by SepCorp (Seperatist/Strex Corp). The Coruscant Guard is the Sherrif's secret police, Rex and the 501st are planted with the scientists, etc. SepCorp thought that it would be much harder to have this infiltration, but the town immediately accepted clones existing as Normal (I mean, look, they all know that Amidala is like at least 4 people)(with some exceptions).

The whole chips thing doesn't come into play until the SepCorp takeover, and are pretty quickly jail broken by Sabine & co with help from Anakin, and (virtually, Ahsoka.) Echo is Fey/The WZZZ numbers station (or the ARC station) and also helps free the rest of the clones from the mind control.

Now, as for Obi-Wan/Man in the Tan Jacket, Anakin, and what the fuck is Palpatine doing, anyway?

Anakin caught the attention of Palpatine (aka the secret CEO of SepCorp) shortly after he began attending college. Palpatine proceeded to spend Anakin's undergrad grooming him to be his right hand in Strex Corp. (Maybe he was posing as a professor or smth). This plan got messed up when, upon starting his graduate program, Anakin ended up roommates with Obi-Wan Kenobi (who had recently left Nighvale after his worst fight with Qui-Gon yet.) Obi-Wan (unfortunately for Palpatine) forms a fast and strong (if sometimes contentious) bond with Anakin, which results in Anakin changing his focus for his graduate degree to something less what Palpatine wants and more what Anakin is interested in.

Palpatine is Not Amused. When it becomes clear that Anakin is no longer interested in filling the job that Palpatine has so generously created or him in Strexcorp he decides that something Must Be Done. He enacts some kind of curse or smth on Obi-Wan, removing all memories anyone has of him, and making it very nearly impossible to form new ones, beyond that he's a Man in the Tan Jacket.

Infuriatingly, this does not immediately result in Anakin running into the loving arms of SepCorp, but Palpatine is able to pull some strings and get him into the research team destined for...oooh! Starvale, of course the town is Starvale!

But back to Padme! I feel like this is a great vehicle for Padme to be every bit as insane abt Anakin as he is about her bc...let's be real. She absolutely is; just because she seems to be more chill by comparison doesn't make this actually true. Padme is not the Normal One. There is no Normal One.

Also, given the handmaidens, this has interesting implications for the double incident, huh? Like, do Padme and the handmaidens take the doubles arriving in stride, or do they feel at a deep, instinctive level that these are Not The Same Thing? Does the eldritch station management actually know the difference between Padme!Amidala or, say, Sabe!Amidala?

Now, I think that Palpatine is also Leonard Burton, and was Padme's radio mentor. With all the concerning implications involved etc. He somehow still doesn't really get how Starvale works. (Maybe a faliure to keep Padme under his thumb prompted him to search outside Starvale and ultimately find Anakin). Dex runs the Moonlite All-Nite Diner.

Not sure who the Apache Tracker would be...unless he's Quinlan Vos deep undercover (Obi-Wan, possibly the only person who knows that it's him, will never let him live this down) and fakes his death. idk tho, this one's tricky.

Mace Windu is the mayor. This man deals with So Much Shit in canon, he deserves the chance to be a little unhinged, and to have mayoral powers, as a treat. Plus, he's canonically a theater performer. He could do the drama, he Has The Range.

And uhhh, yeah! that's what I've got!

(there's another version of this set in the GFFA where a Supposed To Be Dead Padme is doing like, a rebel broadcast, Obi-Wan is Old Woman Josie, and Anakin/Vader is both Carlos and Steve Carlsberg. "And Vader came around to kill a bunch of people with his stupid, perfect, shiny helmet, and his sexystupid murderwalk. He's the worst person to ever exist and I defintiely, definitely, hate him. It's just and only hatred.")(And yes, this is partially inspired by hometown blues)

Natalie Portman wearing a Panasonic FM Stereo Headset RF-60 from the 1970s 

[satorella]

You caught 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫’𝐬 attention at a soccer conference in Japan about a year ago, where you were hired to take pictures for the sports magazine you worked for. At first, it was just him being his usual arrogant and cocky self when he randomly gave you VIP tickets just because.

“Oh… uh… d-danke, Herr Kaiser…” [Thank you, Mr. Kaiser] You gave him a polite smile. He tilted his head, “Ah, you speak German?” “Just a little… enough for a tourist to get by.” You answered. He nodded and smirked, “Cheer for me, ja?” [Yes?] He pointed at the tickets in your hand as he turned to walk away. “Ja…” You gave an awkward little wave.

Neither of you had any idea where this would eventually lead though…

A couple days later, you woke up with your head throbbing, and Kaiser sleeping soundly next to you... naked under the sheets. You looked around, realizing you were in his hotel room, and both of your clothes were thrown carelessly all over the place; on the sofa, on the counter, the floor, your panties were even hanging on the damn lamp. Then it all started to come back to you. What was supposed to just be a few innocent glasses of champagne at the afterparty of his game, turned into a bit more… obviously. Once you came to, you slowly slipped out of his bed, searched for your clothes, and quietly left his room.

Fuuuuuck, did you really have a one night stand with Michael Kaiser?!?!

After a couple hours, you opened your suite door to...

"Guten Tag, Schöne." [Good day, beautiful.] Shit. "Herr Kaiser... hi... h-how'd you, um, know which room I was in?" You asked, looking both ways down the hallway. "I asked your little freund." [Friend.] He waved his hand dismissively. "Anyway you left your, ah, kamera in my room. I figured you might want it back for work." He hands you your camera. "Oh! Danke!" You take the device. He looks at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. "I looked through some of the photos. I hope you don't mind." He finally says before leaning down to your ear, “I enjoyed seeing the ones from last night as well.” He whispers, making a shiver run down your spine. Pictures? From last night? The hell is this guy talking about? Confusion and curiosity etched on your face, you turned your camera on and clicked through the recent photos...

You, your colleagues, Kaiser and his team taking shots.

You and Kaiser pouring each other shots.

You sitting on Kaiser's lap.

You, and what looks like, grinding on Kaiser.

You, completely blissed out, taking a selfie with Kaiser kissing your neck.

You taking a picture with Kaiser in the elevator door's reflection; he stood behind you with his hands on your hips... while he was busy with your neck.

Kaiser leading you into his hotel room.

You, in Kaiser’s POV… sitting naked on the counter, eyes low and head thrown back as you laughed. (You honestly looked great in this pic… if it weren’t for you being naked😵‍💫)

Kaiser... taking body shots off you...

A mirror selfie with Kaiser positioned behind you... holding one of your legs up on the vanity... while he-

ALRIGHT, you got the point! You quickly shut off the camera and looked at anywhere else but him. He smirked, seeing how shy you suddenly got. "I-I'll, uh, delete these… don't worry..." You cleared your throat. "Just because you get rid of the evidence of our fuck-fest, doesn't mean I'll let you forget it." He shamelessly looks you up and down, "Are you free to do it again tonight?" You scoffed. The nerve of this guy!? "I-I'm not some bootycall, you perv! Du bist so ein perverser!" [You are such a pervert!] You whisper-yelled. He laughed at your attempt to insult him in his own language. "Really? But from what I can remember, all you could say was 'Micha! So gut! Bitte! Bitte mehr!' hm?" [So good! Please! Please more!] All the color drained from your face. “Okay. Guten Tag, und Auf Wiedersehen.” [Good day, and goodbye.] You tried to close the door in his face, but he stopped it with one hand, “Nein. Wait.” [No. Wait.]

…And that’s how your love story all began. Annoying way to meet the love of your life, right? Agh! Aber du hast trotzdem gelernt, ihn zu lieben. 💆‍♀️ [Agh! But you still learned to love him.]

Ever since that day, he subconsciously started talking to you more and seeing you more at soccer conferences; country to country. You were the only foreigner that could actually understand him and have a decent conversation with him in his native tongue. (Not to mention, you kept each other company at night.) At games, he would casually search the crowd for your familiar pretty face, knowing you’d be there; rocking his jersey, waving and screaming his name. You showed up for him at every game, wherever it was. Even though he was still kind of an ass, your constant presence started to make him feel… something. Something he’s always wanted, but would never allow.

Kaiser wasn’t one to catch feelings. He’d usually cut out anything that would distract him from his goals. Nor does he really have that many friends due to his arrogant and rude personality. Sure, he has his team, but ehh. Then there was the thing going on with you. He actually didn’t mind having you around. You weren’t clingy and annoying like most women were. And he enjoyed the sex, of course. But after a while, he started to notice that things between you started to become something a little more than just sex. Even just talking to you became part of his daily routine. You guys met up to have breakfast/lunch/dinner together if you were in the same city, and FaceTimed if you weren’t. There were times where he just craved to hear your sweet voice after a gruesome day of practice. Craved to hear your stupid jokes that weren’t even funny, but it was really your laugh that he wanted to hear when he was having some depressing late night thoughts. God only knows why you still stick around. He’s unbearable half of the time, but here you were… choosing to deal with his bullshit.

All of it.

With time, you started to become the support system, the companionship, the patience, and the love he’s always wanted, needed, but was too prideful and damaged to ever ask for. You understood him. You were always there for him. And for once in his lonely life, he didn’t feel so alone anymore.

Currently, you and Kaiser were in his hotel room, massaging his scalp as he laid his head in your lap. You came to surprise him at one of his home games in his home country, Germany, after telling him just a few days ago that you wouldn’t be able to make it.

“I could have flown you out here, meine Schönheit. Tsk.” [My beauty.] He lightly scolds you. “But that would’ve ruined the surprise, ja?” You smiled. “Tsk.” He grabbed your wrist and moved your hand to his neck, “Here. Massage me here.” He demanded. “So sassy, mein Schatz.” [My darling.] You chuckled, but did as he said, massaging over his blue rose tattoo. He closed his eyes. “Your touch, it’s relaxing, meine Liebe.” [My love.] He said, which was a little unusual. He was being sweet and focusing on you, rather than bragging about how his team wouldn’t have won without him; which was what he usually did after a win. You leaned down to press a kiss on his forehead as a reply. You weren’t sure how to respond to that… without saying the wrong thing and risking ruining his good mood. He opened his eyes, a sigh leaving his lips as he looked up at you. He pulled your head back down, capturing your lips in a kiss. After a moment, he pulled away and caressed your cheek. “Ich liebe dich, Engel.” [I love you, Angel.] He said quietly, which was another rare occasion with Kaiser where he actually used his words to express his feelings. “And I love you.” You smiled, hovering your lips over his, “Are you okay?” “Ah, meine Liebe. I’m alright, just… tired from playing.” He said as he reached up to move a few strands of your hair behind your ear. His bright blue eyes were scanning your face, watching every expression and detail. “I’m glad you’re here...” He ran his thumb over your cheek, “I can always count on you.” He sat up and pulled you on top of him, his hands moving to rest on your hips as you straddled him.

“Michael!” You gasped as you felt his semi-hard poking the inside of your thigh. “I thought you said you were tired?” “I said tired from playing, mein Liebling. Not in other activities.” You playfully rolled your eyes. Ah, now you understand why he’s being so lovey dovey… he’s horny! He chuckled in his rough German accent as his hands began to roam your body. “I missed you these last few weeks.” “Ja, I can see that… or I mean, feel it.” You snickered. “Ah, mein Engel. Du bist so wunderschön.” [My Angel. You are so beautiful.] He praised you as he gave your jawline soft kisses. He grunted a little when he felt your lower half grind against him, causing him to squeeze the plush fat of your ass under your denim skirt. He wanted to be gentle, but that’s proving to be quite difficult for him right now. He needed you. “Mein Engel, bitte. Lass mich dich lieben.” [My Angel, please. Let me love you.] He pleaded quietly as his hands continued to roam your body, slowly lifting his jersey off of you. “Ich will dich.” [I want you.] You let the jersey fall to the ground, tilting your head to the side as he kept whispering sweet nothings in your ear, making you throb at your core.

Kaiser turned, laying you down on the sofa and positioning himself in between your legs. “Ich liebe dich.” [I love you.] He murmured as his lips began to trail down your neck, down your chest. He took one breast in his mouth, and sucked on your hardened nub. You let out a whimper, arching into him, practically smooshing your chest in his face. His tattooed hand journeyed down your body. “So Schön.” [So beautiful.] He hissed, pushing your legs open wider for him to have more room. He wasted no time in bunching your skirt up and pulling your panties to the side, dragging a finger up your slit, collecting your slick. His finger began tracing circles around your entrance before slowly pushing it inside you. “Ah, du bist so feucht für mich…” [You are so wet for me…] “Hnngh!” You moaned, nails digging into the sofa. “Komm für mich. Be the good girl I know you are.” [Come for me.] He murmured against your skin, lightly nipping you in random places. He inserted another finger in you, pumping at a slow, but good, pace and curling them both slightly to rub that sweet spot that always had you seeing stars. “M-Micha!” You whined, writhing beneath him. “Let yourself go on my fingers…” He said, his voice low and raspy. And like the good girl you were for him, you did as he said. As always. You shut your eyes as you came on his long, thick fingers; panting and moaning his name. He grabbed your chin during the middle of it with his free hand and forced you to face him. “Look at me.” He demands. Your eyes fluttered open, trying to stop them from rolling back from pure ecstasy. “That’s it. There’s my girl.” He lets you ride out your high, before slowly pulling his fingers out of you and licking them clean.

He reached between you to pull the knot on his robe loose, and lets it fall on the floor next to the jersey, then positions himself at your entrance. “Ich brauche dich...” [I need you...] He whispers as he pushes into you, letting out a deep groan and grunting. “Gott, du bist so eng.” [God, you’re so tight.] You let out a louder moan at the stretch, your nails digging even more into the sofa. He slowly slid out almost all the way before thrusting back in deeper. Harder.

“So gut...” [So good...]

Fuck, maybe you two should spend time apart more often.

© 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[narfin-frood]

Hi! I'm a big fan of your art, and I just wanted to know, did you study the WOY art style? I'm asking because the way you draw each character, Hater especially, is so expressive! Do you have any tips with expressions? Thank you!

thank you so much!! and to kinda answer your question: while what i do is, technically, studying, that's not what it feels like. i genuinely just enjoy looking at character sheets. a lot of the time they'll include little notes about things you wouldn't think about unless you're told to, like wander's eyes typically angling towards each other at the bottom or sylvia's eyes obscuring the full width of her neck.

(i have any one of these open in my reference panel almost always! not only are these full of tips & tricks for your everyday sketching, they're full of rules for each character, which are meant to be broken in interesting and fun ways.)

[im gonna pack a bunch of other, tangentially related tips and tricks and thoughts into the readmore, including my personal breakdown of hater's expressions specifically, so feel free to give it a click. long post ahead]

a lot of stuff can be picked up by just watching the cartoon as many times as you want. i have watched every episode (minus big fucking baby episode, which i hate) like 6 times over, sometimes more (looking at you the rager), and that has definitely solidified my wander over yonder visual library.

also, wander over yonder's art style already fits in with the way i draw, because i LOVEE long curvy lines and super crisp & clear silhouettes!!

as for why/how i get hater so expressive.... that mainly has to do with the fact that i think he's So Cute. He's So Cute and i wanna Squash Him. and his character design reflects that!!!

his hood is his eyebrow and his eyes may or may not be rolling around in their sockets, and his nose is a little upside down heart. but all of the lord hater emotion is stored in the chin. lord hater has a bunch of specific and VERY malleable options for mouth shapes, depending on what makes the expression and lipsync look clearest.

you can keep it super simple, with a clear divide between his top and bottom jaw, and do several round bumps for teeth, which they do a lot when tweening, like this:

this kind of seems to be his default state, depending heavily on the episode and when it was made and who was drawing him the most, of course.

you can also keep his jaw and skull distinct, but keep his teeth straight and flush with each other, which helps for sharper expressions, esp. anger or frustration, but can also work for a good "squee". he also sometimes pouts so hard his chin eats his mouth, which is, again, cute.

if you're having trouble keeping an expression clear while also maintaining the distinction between his jaw and the rest of his skull, it's pretty common also to forego most of the overt skeleton bits, save for a few hatch marks to indicate teeth (sometimes squiggles or bumps, when he's yelling about it). in my head i affectionately refer to this style of hater expression as the "peanut sans"

none of these convey the intensity of emotion you're looking for? fear not, you can also always just go Full Skeleting. and give his teeth a full outline. this is great for Pain and Strain and Nefariousness.

and then there are a million expressions in between and possibilities within these parameters beyond your wildest belief. nothing should hold you back from a really fucked-up lord hater expression. not proportion. not structure. ESPECIALLY not symmetry. please. make his chin bigger. make his head bigger. make one eye bigger. make him look in two different directions. scrunch his nose up. whatever it takes. by all means. i implore you to have fun

(honorable mention. his W face. the face when he says the consonant W. sometimes OO. i'm. obsessed. with it . he looks. kity)

anyway. lord hater tangent aside. i could also share my own process for expressions, but it really just hinges on what looks appealing/what i like the most/what communicates the emotion i want to communicate the clearest, and it varies between characters and people.

it helps to, again, build your visual library, and look at lots and lots of funny faces, both in real life and in cartoons you like. make funny faces in the mirror and try to focus on what parts of your face change shape or interact with other parts of your face when you do something like smile really wide or drop your jaw. your skin is taut, and there's a bunch of muscle and fat attached to your bones, so when one big bone moves, a bunch of muscles and fat under the surface will shift around too, and understanding that relationship is really helpful in the long run, both for drawing real people and for drawing cartoons.

and the easiest way to retain information like that is to have fun while you study. stop thinking of it as studying and start thinking of it as gathering information on this thing you like a lot and want to do more of, like when you scroll through someone's account to look at all their art, and just. do more of that. do more exploring and observing. since animation is my special interest, this part is pretty easy for me, but it does still take practice to get into that mindset, especially when you convince yourself you have to be super strict and rigid to make it in the art world. focus on drawing and observing what makes YOU happy first, and everything else will follow.

and don't worry about taking notes. don't worry about remembering everything you look at. just look at things you like, and think about them for longer than you usually would. think about the shapes and colors. what makes that drawing so darn appealing to you, besides subject matter and the vague concept of an "artstyle"? you'll be surprised just how abstract what appeals to you can be. for me, with expressions especially, it comes down to random shit like "i like when the edge of a character's mouth creates a tangent with the outline of their head" instead of "pretty eyes" or other, vaguer elements. and that shit i like becomes a part of my artstyle, but only when it fits in and looks appealing, because you can't do stuff like this in every single drawing & retain a full range of expression

ANYway. i hope this made some sense/helped at least a little. i like lord hater a lot. and i also like to draw

[mandarinmoons]

omg i love ur account soo bad, i would rlly like to read about Spencer being jealous of Derek, for the reader to comfort him and try to help with his insecurities, lowk sad ik but pleaseee 🙇🏻‍♀️

Spencer sighed as he watched Derek from afar, talking to a group of women. Each of the girls seemed to be entranced with what the man in front of them was talking about, one of them playing with her hair while the other one kept biting her lip which turned into a not so subtle smirk over time.

Spencer hadn’t had the best luck with women, he had a few take interest in him over time, but it never grew into something serious. He blamed himself for not being the archetype of a man girls would usually want from what he saw and no matter how hard he would try to be more appealing, it just wasn’t him and he wouldn’t be able to keep up the facade for too long.

“What’s on your mind, boy wonder?”

Spencer blinked his eyes as you walked over to him and brought him out of his thoughts. Spencer wondered if he should tell you what’s on his mind or would it be something he would eventually get over after some time. It was hard to hide anything from you though, the sparkle in your eyes made Spencer crack and he’d always tell you whatever it was he was thinking of, you had never judged him for it as well, so he had his answer.

“Y/N, be honest, is there anything about me that’s… unattractive?”

“What do you mean? I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.”

“Really?”

You nodded as you took a seat next to Spencer, your hand reaching out and thumb running across the back of his hand. Spencer wasn’t one for physical touch, but whenever you showed it it put him at ease.

“Where is all of this coming from?”

“I look at Morgan at times, the way he talks to women, how he presents himself, the way he is basically and I don’t know I just… wish I could be that way.”

“I’ve always liked the way that you are. Men similar to Derek put me off at first, it makes me feel like they have other intentions, but when we first met only minutes in and you were talking about the differences between plant and human cells and I thought that it was really fascinating.”

Spencer chuckled as he remembered the day you both had met. He was scared that he had messed up his first interaction with you and that you would stay clear of him whenever you would come across in the bullpen, but you did the exact opposite. You’d always take time out of your day to go talk to Spencer, even if it was the most random subject someone could think of, but you never regretted it and kept coming back for more.

“There are people out there that adore people like you Spencer and I’m proud to say that I’m one of them. Plus, I think you’re cuter than Derek.”

Pressing a kiss to Spencer’s cheek, his eyes went wide as you waved goodbye and he watched you return to your desk, a slight bounce in your step as you strode across the room.

Spencer chuckled as his eyes met the floor, somehow your words set him at ease during times he needed it the most. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve someone like you in his life, but whatever it was he was sure he’d do it a thousand times again to have even one more conversation like this.

You can find my masterlist here!

Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

[robinsgrl]

since im still getting hate through anon over “stealing” a concept that I didn’t know this woman had posted prior to me, im going to clear some things up.

rafesangelita reblogged a post of my comment which was taken completely out of context and not me pioneering “weird!girl”. I was talking about the “fan club” that the commenter was referring to. She commented “weird girl fan club” and I responded with “I am the leader and founder of” meaning, I was the leader and founder of my weird girls FAN CLUB because I adored that character. in high school, all the clubs had a leader and a founder but that doesn’t mean they created the idea of the club, and that’s quite literally what i meant. Think of it like a silly little club in school, it was a joke about a fan club for my specific reader. Granted, it was worded weirdly but that was part of the joke. Like me “completing” the sentence. yes, im name dropping her because quite literally everyone in the fandom knows her and she reblogged a completely inaccurate post AND blocked me before I could even speak up.

now for the woman who is claiming that i stole this concept from her. we dm’d and honestly, she was nice. i have nothing against her as a person. but she was still reblogging stuff that her friends posted about the situation and if it’s been “resolved” then stop reblogging things. anyway, she privately messaged me and admitted that she “blocked me previously to this happening”. i started writing for this fandom the end of november. I posted weird girl reader the first or second week of December. she admitted to blocking me since she saw the post and it blew up pretty quickly so im assuming that she blocked me around the same time that it was posted. i can not stress enough that i had not seen her work. as you can see that was almost a month ago. im not sure on my timeline because literally no one will tell me anything but my first post was nov. 22. it hasn’t been that long since i’ve been in this n fandom

the few works that i DID read were texts posts. everything i read i literally reblogged under my recs. I hadn’t read much farther than that. Now i know there’s no way to prove that but it’s the truth. I didn’t see her posts. I didn’t know who she was. And I didn’t get the time to know who she was because she blocked me.

now, in her long post in that same reblog im talking about, she stresses that you can make weird girl different. that she spent time on her character and I’m sure she did. granted, I didn’t get to read her works because again, I’ve been blocked. but that’s quite literally the point of _!readers. writers have the control. they can base them off of whatever they want and she named those examples. just like she was proud of her reader, i was proud of mine. those things that my reader did in the series were things that i have quite literally done in my real life.

the first part. i did the boob/pec thing to a gym guy that i was seeing back when i was 18. biting someone’s muscled arm was a trend that i saw on tiktok. Of women biting their so’s muscles.

the putting her hands in her boyfriends jeans to warm her cold hands up? i did that before and granted, it was with a girl that i was semi-seeing and not a guy like the original post, but I just flipped the scene. same with the ass slapping and grabbing joke. i do that to my friends. my friends. it’s weird, yes, but that’s why i wrote this weird girl with things i’ve done before because for a long time, i was considered weird. i was bullied in school for being weird, as im sure a lot of people have been.

this reader of mine was me. from the antics she did to the chronically online posts and texts. ive had so many people say that they, themselves have done these things with their significant others as well because tiktok and social media is normalizing not being so serious all the time, that it’s okay to be awkward and weird and goofy with the people you love. And as stated before, i go into writing weird girl reader as someone who’s on the spectrum. I don’t write that she is but as someone who is, those little pieces of me were in the story and im sure many who are can understand that.

she goes on to say that people blow up on her for confronting them. im truly sorry she had that experience but i am not them. she should have come to me as an adult from the beginning. as a grown woman. we both are grown enough to have a civil conversation before name dropping and having people come to my page and say im plagiarizing and copying her when i did not know who she was. because im sorry to say this: you did not inspire me. i did not see your posts. i did not know your account. until this reblogged ask was posted, i did not know you existed. i can not give credit on a concept that i didn’t even know you posted ahead of me. quirky readers like this have been around for longer than your own. i remember reading one direction wattpad stories with quirky/off putting readers when i was a preteen, literally dozen off stories, and back when it was “not being like other girls”. this concept is not new and was not popularized by you. I am not saying that takes away from your work. You have a right to be upset when people steal your own personal work but a concept is a concept. And it’s not one that i stole or got inspiration from you. and i have to reiterate: I am not saying i came up with this on my own. Im not saying this was my idea. But i did not get it from you.

now cameronwillow is defending her friend and i get that. having friends like this is important in hard times but i do believe she and the original sender of the ask, blew this thing out of proportion. im glad you’re there for your friend, truly, a love like that is all anyone can ask for. but you did this the absolute wrong way. read the top to see what i mean. if you still think i copied or stole from your friend and that “credit wasn’t given”, then, you’re gonna keep having a tough time on the internet and in fandoms; tropes and concepts and plots are constantly reused.

now, you posted that i should’ve messaged first. how when she admitted to blocking me when she saw my first weird girl post? you go on to say that “if you’re old enough to be on tumblr then you’re old enough to use your thumbs and message people off anon”. Now, the anon hate is wrong and anyone who is harassing your friend in a harsh way or calling her names, don’t take them as anyone I would support. I wouldn’t support any of them or any of that. If i found out who it was, i would report and block them myself. Hate through anon is wrong no matter what. But wouldn’t that go both ways? You all reblogged and posted things about me while I was blocked before we could have any sort of discussion as adults. (With the exception of dolly because she did unblock me and we had a discussion, although i will say it was too late.)

those are the main few that i think had a lot of hold over the situation. dolly isn’t at fault here. but neither am i. it was a bad situation that was dealt with badly. feelings on all sides are valid but this is the internet, you have to be careful with what you post and how you word yourself. i should have worded myself better on that leader and founder comment and i admit that, it was wrong. but at the least all of these people can and should admit that they blew this entire thing out of proportion.

now, i do want to add that this person gravedigginbbydoll made a completely insane post. in my latin culture, mal de ojo/brujeria/ hexes are a terrifying thing. it’s not something to be messed with in any sort of way. i’ve seen first hand what those things can do to a person. my mother and her long line in mexico rebuke all of this. they fight against it. they cleanse others and us in ways that i wouldn’t even know existed if i wasn’t a part of them. you don’t have to believe in it but i do. I wholeheartedly believe in it. And maybe she didn’t mean me. Maybe she didn’t mean it seriously. But i took it seriously. My family, who im talking with this about is taking it seriously. If youre an avid believer and follower of this stuff, you should know that a post like that to a random girl on the internet, who just wanted to get a better grasp on this abrupt situation, is maniacal and evil. I believe in karma. Karma IS going to come for you over that post and over wishing those things on me (and others).

I had a conversation with her friend under a post where we talk about the hate comments and anon and i agree, neither of us should get this hate. Not at all. And dolly has the right to her feelings. Plagiarism and copying is a real issues in fandoms and in fanfiction writing, one that i have dealt with myself in my past fandoms. But it’s also not insane of me to want to defend myself. I’m not “dragging it” by wanting to defend myself. I’m not “dragging it” by posting this. This is me defending myself and my writing because i am being completely honest— I did not know her work.

sensitive topic below here

Now to those who are defending me and sending me sweet messages, i love you all so much. It means the absolute world to me that you all are willing to hear me out and not jump to conclusions like many people are. And im so grateful for all the love on all my works, not only my weird girl posts. Fearless and Kildare nights were works that i was immensely proud of. Kildare Nights was a way to let out my silly little thoughts. I get attached to character and JJ was one that i was very attached to. The ending of s4 felt like a hole in me and i wanted to fill that. On top of that, a lot of you knew from my authors note that i was in the process of moving. I was lucky enough to find a place with my family in time before being evicted. I was homeless before this. I moved in with my mom because i was literally homeless. I slept in a shelter for a few days before renting a room in a random house with a random lady i met on Facebook. My mom, who I wasn’t talking to at the time, let me move back in with her. But she hadn’t told the landlord. So we were scrambling to find a place. Being homeless is a traumatizing part of life that I never want to go through again. And Kildare Nights is what got me through the nights where I wanted to give up again.

And Fearless was my baby. I’ve been a big girl my entire life. I was bullied for it relentlessly in high school to the point of developing an eating disorder that I still struggle with at 21 years old. I’m getting there slowly and surely but Fearless was for the big girls now and in the past that never felt like they could be loved. For the big girls who struggled to find themselves attractive or sexy or even pretty. To the big girls who have had mean girl experiences regarding their weight and just mean high school girls in general. We are deserving of love and romance and even the heartbreak that comes with all of that.

And im sorry to cut it all short. But this account is tainted by everyone who has name dropped me, who has blocked me, who has sent me hate through anon. By all of it. I may be grown and I should be able to handle these things but truth is im not. I don’t have the confidence nor am I in the correct frame of mind, mental health wise, to be putting up with all of this. I get that im not a child but Im 21 and still figuring things out. drama (because this is drama. despite saying its not.) shouldnt be in spaces that make us feel good, that make us feel empowered and that a lot of us use as an escape. thank you for hearing me out.

[alpaca-clouds]

A Rant about Engaging with Themes

When the actual trailer for Castlevania Nocturne S2 was released a few weeks back, a few people were surprised about Drolta being back. And those who have been in contact with me during the last year know, that I have been harping on about it: “Drolta is actually not dead. Drolta will come back in some way.”

And at least two people have asked me so far: “Why were you so sure?” And the answer is relatively simple: “Themes. And the whole thing about Chekov’s Gun.”

But you know, this is a topic that I saw in a lot of fandoms. Because in those fandoms people were surprised – and angry – about endings, while I saw those endings coming several seasons away. And I think it is worth talking about it. So, yes, this is going to be a little essay about engaging with themes in media.

The thing is, that I do not want to go harping on the “media literacy crisis”. Because I do not think the issue is that people cannot understand this – it is just that they often do not really engage with themes and the fact that creative people behind media are trying to say something with the media. Partly, maybe, because a lot of media does not get to. I mean, a lot of the Marvel movies recently do not have a whole lot to say. I doubt because the writers all had nothing to say, but because the brand does not want them to say anything about it.

But let’s get back to Drolta. Because here is the thing: Castlevania Nocturne does has something to say. I kinda hoped for it before we had more information on the show – but yes, Nocturne is very much about society, hierarchies and colonialism.

Here is the thing: I love the original four seasons Castlevania, but in terms of theming they are all over the place. There are absolutely some themes about forgiveness, about personhood, about questioning narratives, and about healing and coming to terms with abuse. But it is really all over the place and not quite as concise about that – not in the same way as Nocturne is. Nocturne is quite pointed about it.

Nocturne is about how colonialism and colonial exploitation, but also class exploitation are like vampirism. Colonialism is vampiric – not the vampires are.

And the big difference to the first four seasons of Castlevania are mainly not as succinct in terms of themes, because the different stories kinda have different themes. The different characters are connected to different themes. While in Nocturne all characters are connected to this main theme in one way or another.

It is of course most noticeable in terms of the characters directly affected by colonialism: Annette, Edouard, Olrox. It is also quite clear in regards of some of the bad guys. Erszebeth is a colonizer. So are the vampires actually killed in season 1.

But Drolta is interesting in this regard. Because inherent to her is a contradiction in terms of this theme. She aligns herself with Erszebeth – the colonizer – while her skin color aligns her with the colonized. In fact, the little we know about her does imply a lot in that regard. Because Drolta says herself she was a priestess of Sekmet. And Erszebeth has drunken from Sekmet, which in this regard can easily be read as a colonizer using the colonized religion against them.

However: This conflict inherent to Drolta’s character has not played out in one way or another. It is basically a sort of Chekov’s Gun – and it has not yet gone off. One way or another, Drolta needs to fall into the place in terms of how she relates to the main theme of the show, and because she did not really engage in that metaphorical dialogue, I was fairly certain that she was not dead.

Because here is the thing: Katie Silva is a darn good character designer, who is really good telling you a lot about the characters by the design. And she would not just make her Black just because it makes for an amazing design (though it does). And from the perspective of the writers there is just so much unused storytelling potential in Drolta.

I am not sure on what side Drolta is ultimately landing on. But I am fairly certain that before Drolta is killed for good, we will learn how she was involved in getting Erszebeth Sekmet’s blood, and how exactly Drolta herself relates to colonialism.

I am not saying it is impossible for her to be the sort of character who tries to align herself with the colonizer in the hope to get power for themselves. Because those people have existed in real history. However, she definitely needs to relate herself to the theme before she can be killed for good. Because otherwise her narrative potential has not been used – and I do trust the writers here enough to know they will at least try to use all the narrative potential. I am not sure whether or not Netflix will get in the way of that (for example by not ordering more seasons or similar bullshit), but I am fairly certain that at least the writers have a clear idea where they want Drolta to fall in terms of the theme.

So, this is the point where I pivot and talk about the two other fandoms, where this lack of engaging with the themes really annoyed the living heck out of me. One fandom I interacted with a lot at the time the show aired – while the other fandom I just watched from outside, but went later to confirm that the anger about the ending was really about a lack of the fandom at large not engaging with the themes. And fun fact: Both shows have a central theme about colonialism, just like Nocturne. Just coming at the theme from very different angles.

The shows are Steven Universe and Star vs the Forces of Evil. Steven Universe is the fandom I interacted with a good bit while the show was airing, while SvsFoE was a fandom where I mainly enjoyed the show and just saw the entire anger happen in the end with a lot of confusion.

But let me talk Steven Universe first.

Spoilers for both shows, obviously.

Because I was one of the first “Rose is Pink Diamond” Truthers in that fandom. Literally, the first time we heard about the Diamonds I instantly went: “Rose was a Diamond”. Before we even knew for sure there was a Pink Diamond. And when we saw the reliefs of the Diamonds – but not the one of Pink Diamond – it became even more clear to me.

And yet, big parts of the fandom at the time were calling the Truthers crazy.

Of course, it is now a few years since the show ended. And we all know that the Truthers were right about it.

However, I do remember during the last season. The further it went ahead without confirming that the theory was true, the more certain the Nay-Sayers became in their Nay-Saying, while I became even more certain about the theory being true.

Why was that?

Well, the Nay-Sayers obviously could not imagine how to pull off that twist in a satisfying way and resolve the plot within the fairly few episodes left. Meanwhile I saw the plot and realized, that the only way to resolve the plot while sticking to the themes of the show would be by having Rose – and hence Steven – be Pink Diamond.

To this day, a certain part of that fandom is still very angry about the Diamonds being redeemed. And to that part of the fandom I can only say: “Have you watched the show?” Because the show was very unsubtle about the fact that its main theme was forgiveness and redemption. It was about giving people second chances and talking about issues, rather than using violence. That was always the mission statement. It was about empathy.

And this was why I was so certain that Rose and Steven had to be Pink Diamond. Because I knew from the very beginning that they would not kill the Diamonds. But I also knew that the chance of them resolving that plot within the themes in a satisfying way would not be possible, if Steven was not to gain a certain privilege – like being a Diamond – to put him into a situation where the Diamonds would even so much as listen to him. Hence: Rose had to be Pink Diamond. Because otherwise the plot could not be ended in a way that fit with the themes.

(And yes, I was so fucking smug about it when the episode aired, that confirmed it.)

So, now let me talk about the fandom with the ending that is even more controversial than the ending of Steven Universe: Star vs the Forces of Evil.

Or how I call it: “Yeah, no shit are they gonna destroy magic. Magic in this was a metaphor for systemic privilege and the point of the show was that you can not brute force civil rights without giving up your own god damn privilege! Holy hell, this show was not even subtle about it!” (Yes, I do have some anger about this. Because… I have seen and read too many bad takes about the ending.)

Now, mind you. One thing you need to know about me: One of the historic topics I am kinda hyperfixating on is colonialism. So, when I loved the first season of this show and came to my friend group saying: “I think this is about colonialism.” They went: “With you everything is about colonialism.”

But then season 2 came and made it quite obvious. Indeed, this show is about colonialism and racism, and about how colonialism gives the colonial people privilege.

Now, let me at this point say it clearly: It is absolutely fine to have mixed feelings on how this was executed. Specifically with the show making indigenous people “monsters”. Good monsters, yes, but monsters never the less. I get what the makers were getting at – saying something about how a big part of colonialism was also the dehumanization of people – but I absolutely can agree that it could have probably been handled a bit better.

And yes, I also think that the last season – like so many last seasons in this modern day and age – was very rushed at parts, making some plot points not hit as well was they might have gotten to hit with a different pacing.

However, I did appreciate a lot of the things this show had to say about colonialism. Both with relating colonialism to the entire sexuality/gender thing, and also with being very clear on one thing: Just because you change the laws, does make discrimination go away. That is something I so rarely see being brought up in media – let alone media made by white people. But this show was spot on. We see in the later part of this show a lot of Star and Eclipsa try to brute force discrimination and racism to go away. And it just does not work. Because no law can make the perception of people that they are better than the “monsters” go away. All it does is create unrest among the people, as they do not understand the law changes, despise the new rulers for the privilege they hold over them. “Those up there, they don’t get it,” they say. And of course, yeah, people are pissed if you throw them out of their homes, even if it absolutely is the right thing to do, because they literally stole that home from someone else. But that does not change the fact that now they are homeless. And rather than make the racism go away, it just digs deeper trenches and it is a fucking complicated situation. And I loved that the show decided to actually go to that place.

And this is where magic comes in.

Because here is the thing: This show telegraphed early on that in fact magic is not a good thing. Magic in general was here a shorthand for power that could easily corrupt – and very specifically for a certain type of privilege. And yes, I read a few blogs and saw two or three videos about people also complaining of how stupid the way was, that magic got actually explained in this. Because it felt random.

But that is the thing: That was the point. It is random. Power is random. Privilege is very random. Like, sure, I can tell you from an anthropological and historical perspective, why the people that hold privilege in modern society hold privilege. But in the end it boils down to: it is completely random. History could have gone different in so many places and things would have gone different. There is no actual logical reason for most of it. And especially racism is just a completely stupid ideology, because it assigns value to people based on completely superficial points.

And that is why magic in this show had this very silly, random origin story.

And it is also why in the end magic had to be destroyed. Because magic is the power. Magic is the privilege. And you cannot use privilege to destroy the same privilege top-down. Because for that you have to use it – and the only way you can get rid of it is give it up.

Yes, mind you, you do not have to agree with this thesis. Among the “XY studies” this topic about destroying privilege top-down or bottom-up is something that gets discussed a lot. And not everyone is on the same page. But the thesis this show has is a valid one to have – and the ending all in all was about giving up privilege.

And that, in short, is, why I am very frustrated with people hating on the ending. I am sorry, people found it not narratively fulfilling. But I can tell you: Thematically it was spot-on.

And look, I know at times I sound like a broken record: “Engage with the themes. Please engage with the themes.” Those of you, who read any of my blogs about the punkpunk genre, have read me complain about this a thousand times over. But it is really something that to me is very important, even if it makes me sound like some English literature class teacher. Still, themes are important. Or they should be.

No, not every story out there has a heavy focus on themes. I mean, as I said at the start of this rather long blog post: The original Castlevania show had themes, yes, but it was not fully constructed around them. And again, most of the movies in the MCU for example do not have a lot going on in terms of themes. Some try to have. The Guardians movies and the Black Panther movies somewhat have. So had Eternals. But a lot of the other stuff did not have a lot of thematic layering going on. And that is fine. At times a blue curtain indeed is just a blue curtain because the author liked the color blue, or in case of a movie, because the set decorators had still some blue fabric lying around. That is fine.

But there is quite a lot of media, that does have themes and is trying to say something. No, not all of it is successful in saying the thing it is trying to say, but a lot of stuff is at least trying to say something.

If you have been following this blog at least a few weeks you will know, that I am currently very in love with what James Gunn is doing with the DCU. But times I am wondering: “Is he maybe to heavy handed about the message?” But then I am looking over to how some people misinterpreted The Boys on Amazon Prime – a show that was really not subtle about those themes – and I am thinking to myself: “Yeah, actually, they should probably make more episodes about how fun it is to kill Nazis. Just to make sure everyone has gotten at least that message. You know. The one of us not liking Nazis.”

[artist-issues]

This is the point. It does clearly say homosexuality is a sin in the Bible. You’re just applying your own ludicrous definition of what “clear” means to the Bible, in a way you wouldn’t any other missive.

I told you I’m not doing this with you. Because for all your intellectual frills and “saying it doesn’t make it so, it’s possible to misinterpret,” you’re still just saying, bottom line, “did God really say?”

…I mean, your points are correct insofar as the Bible can be interpreted incorrectly, and has been in certain times throughout history, and we have to be aware of the cultural context. Yeah. All that is correct.

…But then in your reblog you go and say things like, “arsenokoitai is a made-up word.” Or things like “in Deuteronomy 22:25 What is the sin here, is it meeting a young woman, is it meeting a young woman pledged to be married, is it meeting a young woman pledged to be married in the countryside, or is it rape?”

As if arsenokoitai isn’t a compound word. Easily seen and translatable in Greek as such. Sure, it’s “made up.” If words like, you know, icecream, bedroom, and pineapple are made up and nobody can tell what they mean. What lexicon are you using?

As if Deuteronomy 22:26-27, the literal very next verse, doesn’t clearly say what the sin is: “And you are not to do anything to the girl; there is no sin in the girl worthy of death, for just as a man rises against his neighbor and murders him, so is this case. When he found her in the field, the betrothed girl cried out, but there was no one to save her.” Especially when taken in the context of the previous verses as well. The sin is rape. Easily seen. It’s not hard to see. Because the Bible is clear and He does make Himself clear, when you read the whole thing and accept it all as His Word, instead of picking and choosing what you like and dislike, and where to get literal and where not to based on your own likes and dislikes.

If I went into why, and explaining it, and interpreting Deuteronomy 22 for you…it would be me, doing this with you. Which I refuse to do, because it’s so obvious it proves why I’m not doing this with someone who could nitpick at something so obvious in order to make the other obvious parts of Scripture, which they don’t like, look similarly nitpick-able by comparison, and then pretend that it’s somehow “being careful” to do so.

Next, tell me God didn’t mean “die” when He said “you shall surely die” eating from the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil in the Garden. Tell me that wasn’t clear. Tell me what He meant was “you shall be like God, knowing good and evil.” Because otherwise He would’ve “clearly said so.”

See, your actual standards of reasoning are correct, taken by themselves. “We must search for correct interpretation, because it’s possible to incorrectly interpret. We must use context in order to do this. We must be careful.” That’s all absolutely a set of correct interpretive principals.

But then you go and try to give me examples of how to apply those principals and those examples are ridiculous. Just oft-repeated, already-disproven, intellectually dishonest, face-value-nonsensical talking points from the general homosexual-affirming culture who are playing intellectual Twister to try and hold God’s Word and What He Forbids in the same hand.

So I’m not doing this with you. “Arsenokoitai is a made up word.” Give me a break.

You know what I will do? I’ll have this conversation with you privately, if you want to have it. Because then at least I’ll have some indication that you’re looking for truth, not just jumping at the chance to repeat culturally-accepted “interpretation” mantras on any public post that’s non-LGBTQ+-affirming. So if you really want to study the Bible, and you’re most interested in understanding God’s Word, or helping me understand it, let’s do it in the DMs. But if you’d rather debate by nonsensical standards so that you look correct in front of a world that already wants to believe your sin-affirming stance is true, go do it somewhere else.

Not on a post that specifically warns against everything you’re saying.

You thought when people painted the "someday you're going to have to choose, for real, between the World and God, you won't be able to walk the line between both" picture that they were talking about martyrdom.

Some extreme. "Trample this picture of Jesus." "Say you don't believe!" "Convert to a different religion!"

You didn't realize that it wouldn't look like that. You didn't realize that when the line gets drawn in the sand, and Jesus is on one side, the other side would look like crying people wailing out, "why can't you just accept me for who I am? Why aren't I enough for you?"

You didn't realize that the choice would be between Jesus the Truth...or a majority of people in the culture making movies, making t-shirt slogans, changing their names, gently telling you that maybe this word in the Bible doesn't mean what you think it means, maybe love just means love, maybe you can have Jesus and whatever sexuality you want.

"Did God really say...?"

You thought it would be something overt. But the bad guys never said, "hey, choose the dark side over the light." They always said, "hey, maybe you don't even know what Jesus said."

The choice is: "It is the Lord. Let Him do what seems good to Him." OR "Did God really say...?"

That's the choice. This is where the rubber meets the road. This is our "choose this day who you will serve." As for me, I'm serving the Lord, and He's holding on to me. He never changes, and yes He did really say.

Hold fast to the truth. It doesn't change. People and cultures do.

[sashaisready]

Feel The Burn: Chapter 3

Lance Tucker x Reader | Destroyer!Chris x Reader

Series Masterlist

Your casual situationship with notorious flirt Lance Tucker comes to a shocking head at a party, fortunately the mysterious stranger you meet that same night is more than happy to help take your mind off it.

Wordcount: Approx. 2250

Sorry this took so long, I had a really restful Christmas break with my family and my whole brain shut down. But now it's back! Mostly! Thanks to everyone who has interacted with this story so far, I'm really enjoying it. As always, reblogs and comments mean the world. And shout out to SebStan for his golden globe win last night! Thoroughly deserved ⭐

“Lance…what are you-” you asked with trepidation as your eyes shift back to Chris, but he immediately interrupts.

“I’ve been trying to call you…” he explains coolly. He’s not looking at you, but over your shoulder at Chris, he seems irritated – his expression sour, “but there must be something up with your phone…”

“There’s not,” you respond curtly.

You see the tiniest hint of surprise on his face as he absorbs your meaning, you probably wouldn’t have even registered it if you didn’t know him like you did. But you do, and it’s there, a fleeting glimpse of fallibility before it’s consumed by his trademark smirk.

“Ah,” he chuckles knowingly without humour, “gotcha”.

“Is everything okay here?” Chris asks from behind you, his tone laced with concern. He gets up from the table and moves to stand next to you, an ally on your side of the battlefield.

“Everything’s fine, pal,” Lance responds before you can. His tone is breezy and light, but you can see him sizing Chris up. It’s almost funny to see them to see them together like this and you’re struck by the strange resemblance despite their stark differences in aesthetic. They could almost be brothers.

“Glad to hear it, pal,” Chris smirks back at him, unperturbed. “But I just want to hear it from the lady”.

“It’s fine, thanks Chris,” you smile at him before turning back to Lance.

“See? It’s fine, Chris,” Lance returns with a sickly-sweet grin, saying Chris’ name like its venom in his mouth. He expertly toes the line between sincerity and mockery, but it’s perfectly clear to you (and no doubt to Chris) which option he intends.

“I’m Lance, by the way,” he extends his hand to the other man and the two of them shake. Despite the cordial gesture, you can clearly see the way they’re both scrutinising each other.

Your eyes flit between the two men and you’re suddenly very aware that this not-quite-confrontation is happening at your place of work. You notice a few patrons glancing over and your heart suddenly beats faster. You’re not exactly one for public drama, you don’t want your personal life playing out in front of your customers and risking any potential impact to your business.

The thin veneer of politeness between Lance and Chris threatens to crack at any moment, particularly if Lance decides to be Lance and chooses to antagonise his new friend.

“So…Chris, what line of work are you in?” Lance practically sneers.

You feel your panic increase as they casually chat in strained short sentences about their jobs. You’re aware of how odd it is that you’re not chiming in, seeing as they’re both here for you – but you simply don’t know what to say. Chris showing up was a curveball, but Lance popping up too had completely knocked you off balance. You’re not built for this; you rarely have one man – let alone two. You can’t handle it.

“Mechanic huh? Maybe you could take a look at my fenders,” Lance grins.

“Yeah maybe,” Chris shoots back without missing a beat, “but I’m pretty busy. And very expensive…” he chuckles.

Lance laughs thinly and you realise you need to actually do something before this all implodes.

“I…uh…” you stumble as you try to ease the tension, but you seem to have forgotten how to form even the most basic sentences. You look between Chris and Lance as they both look back at you expectantly.

“What are you doing here, Lance?” you manage to hiss in a small whisper as you regain some of your composure.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he replies, leaning slightly closer towards you as if Chris wouldn’t be to hear. His briefly looks over at Chris and then back at you, slightly self-consciously. “I haven’t been able to get hold of you so-”

“I’ve been busy,” you cut him off, your voice hushed as to not draw to much attention. “And I don’t really think there’s anything to say”.

“What happened at the party…”

“I really don’t think there’s anything to say,” you repeat firmly, “and if there was, it wouldn’t be here…where I work”.

He bites his lip for a moment, glancing around the café as if he suddenly realises where he is for the first time. He scoffs dismissively, rolling his eyes.

“Cupcake…” he says almost teasingly.

“Lance, please,” you hiss again – your voice unintentionally more pleading than demanding.

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and you’re surprised that his eyes soften in response. You just expected him to continue antagonising you, but he seems to pick up on your distress.

“Fine,” he yields, his voice gentler now, hushed. He takes a second to choose his words and clears his throat, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. It was shitty, what I did, and I wish I could take it back. And I wanted to explain…”

You don’t respond, your blank expression shuts down anything further. Inwardly you’re shocked, you’ve never heard anything like that come out of his mouth before. He’s exposed…almost vulnerable in that moment.

But you wouldn’t let him get wind of that. Not after what he did.

He seems unsurprised by your lack of reply and takes a step back, “I gotta get back to the gym. Good to meet you, man,” he nods over at Chris, his tone somber.

“Yeah, you too,” Chris rasps back unconvincingly.

“See you around, Cupcake,” he tells you as he walks to the door. The two of you lock eyes until he leaves. You know this is the right move, ignoring the slight stirring in your stomach.

Chris chuckles as the door closes, “wow, motherfucker in the flesh, huh?”

You grimace, offering a hollow laugh of your own, “yeah that’s him. I’m sorry…I didn’t expect him to show up here like that…I’m sorry he was a dick to you…”

“Eh. Nothing I can’t handle. There are guys like that everywhere, you just learn not to rise to it as that’s what they’re counting on,” Chris shrugs nonchalantly and sits back down at the table. “Clearly, he’s having regrets about what happened between you two, and he obviously was thrown by me being here. I bet he had a whole speech planned for you which I messed up for him…” he smirks.

You nod as you sit back down, still embarrassed about this mini soap opera playing out around you. But Chris seems utterly unfazed by it all, he carries a quiet confidence – like he has nothing to prove to anyone. The opposite of Lance, loud and proud – ensuring everyone knows who he is. Surely Chris doesn’t need this? He’s cool. Calm. He can’t want high school stuff like this in his life.

“Chris…” you begin hesitantly, “I’m really glad you came over here to see me. And it’s been really nice chatting with you. But I’m sorry you’re somehow mixed up in my shit. Funnily enough my personal life is never normally this interesting,” you force a laugh, “but look…I’d completely understand if you don’t want to deal with my drama…”

“There’s no drama,” he cuts you off and begins collecting up your used mug and plate, “and I want to be here. It would take more than some jumped-up Olympian to scare me away from you,” he shoots you a wink.

You feel yourself flush at the compliment, then watch as he stacks up the crockery on the table.

“If you’re sure…Hey…you don’t have to do that…” you protest, going to take the plates from him. But he lightly shoos you away.

“Like I said, I want to”, he re-iterates as he locks eyes with you, “it’s okay to let people help you, you know”.

His tone is gentle, but the meaning is firm. He’s not just talking about dirty plates. You relent, dropping your hands to your sides as he moves the stack to the counter which Marina accepts with a smile. She thanks him as she moves them to the dishwasher crate, and he steps back towards you.

“Guess I’m kinda used to doing everything myself,” you smile meekly, your eyes dropping to your knees.

Chris leans over and props your chin up with his thumb. You’re practically nose-to-nose with him now, his cerulean eyes boring into you with a heat that catches you by surprise.

“I can tell you’ve had experience with people who keep you guessing, or don’t tell you exactly what they mean,” he whispers without breaking eye contact, “so let me be clear here, I will always be upfront with you. I say what I mean, and I mean what I say”.

You blink, bewildered but enraptured. The coffee shop melts away around you, it’s just you and him here now.

“And so…” he continues, “I’ll lay my cards on the table here and now. I like you. I think you’re cute. I think you’re interesting. I want to get to know you better, maybe take you out for something stronger than a coffee. But if you’re not into it, that’s cool too. It’s an invite, not a summons.”

You can’t quite believe his directness, but it’s refreshing – clear and unambiguous, an oasis of clarity after being lost in the desert of Lance’s mixed signals for so long. You also can’t quite believe he’s into you, your general shyness means you don’t normally catch the eye of men like Chris. You’re sure he’d rather be with someone cooler, someone prettier, someone with their shit together. But he seems so sure…

Maybe it’s time to step out of your comfort zone, accept help like he said – but also take people at their word. Maybe this whole Lance mess was meant to happen to help you see that, and start accepting better, more. Accepting what you deserve.

You nod dumbly, inspired by his boldness you grab a napkin and a sharpie from the counter and scribble your phone number on it. You pass it over to him quickly before your nerves talk you out of it.

He grins, carefully folding up the napkin and slotting it into his pocket as if it were some delicate object that he needed to preserve.

“Well, thanks. I’ve gotta get back to the shop. Thanks for the coffee, and the danish was great – you were right to push it”.

“Told ya”, you beam back at him.

He leans over and kisses you on the cheek. It’s sweet, chaste – you can’t help the little gasp that escapes your lips. Your skin suddenly feels hot, your heart pounding. He smiles again, that charming smile, and you’re amazed that you haven’t melted into the floor

He moves to leave, then turns to you once more, scoffing and rolling his eyes.

“He calls you cupcake? How lame…” he laughs.

You manage a chuckle back and shrug nonchalantly, but inside you feel a small sting. Embarrassingly, you like that Lance calls you that. It had started when he’d dropped by the shop one morning early on in your fling, you’d given him a coffee and suggested he get a cupcake with it. The new banoffee recipe. He’d looked at you like you’d shot him, the horrified outrage on his face so theatrical that you had fallen about laughing. He launched into a rant about his training and fitness and the evils of sugar while you watched on, amused, and tickled. You knew he was hamming it up to make you laugh, smirking knowingly as he went on and on - and it had worked, you were in hysterics. It had culminated in you taking a bite of the cupcake as he ranted, in defiance of his sugar hatred. He had responded by swiping the remaining cake and swallowing it almost whole. He mock admonished you through mouthfuls of cake about the extra gym session he’d need to fit in to work it off now you’d ‘forced’ him to eat that, as you protested through giggles. And thus, Cupcake was sealed, his nickname from you from then on. He barely used your real name after that.

It became a bit between the two of you, you offering him junk food and then him ranting about his training in response. It was an instant guarantee to get him worked up, and you couldn’t resist. But it was never serious. He never judged you for what you ate, never shamed you or made you feel bad. His discipline as a trainer never translated to expectations or judgement of you, and you never felt like he was looking down his nose at you for not surviving on mostly protein like he did. In fact, he brought you sweet treats, ordered you take out. He’d steal bites of your fries and play innocent afterwards. (‘Why would I steal your fries? Baby…you think these abs come from fries…?’) You always imagined that sleeping with a gym bro would mean lectures about trans-fats and insisting on morning jogs, but Lance, to his credit, never once projected any of that onto you. You only ever felt comfortable in your own skin around him.

So, Chris’ teasing was a surprisingly pinch. You weren’t sure why. It wasn’t like Lance deserved any of your grace, and it was a pretty cringy nickname…

You moved it to the back of your mind.

You waved Chris off and smiled as he left the shop. You went back to work, basking in the giddiness and excitement of meeting someone new…and finally not feeling like an afterthought.

[rafesweetie]

⋆˚࿔ the way 𝜗𝜚 ˚⋆ — jj maybank and pogue!princess!reader

“ you a princess to the public, but a freak when it’s time, “

cw ; making out, reader tries to go further, ‘mama’ and ‘princess’ nickname, drunk!reader.

jj had bought the hot tub a year ago, during a moment of rage and upset, and he thought the pogues would instantly return his reckless decision and get the restitution money back — news flash, he was wrong.

there have been many parties in the fun hot tub, getting drunk and splashing around with the pogues, tonight was no different. it started out normal and fun, sipping drinks and giggling and talking about stuff that would make no sense to a sober person. then kie and pope left to have some ‘alone time.’

“oh my god, jj, you know what that means right?” you giggling, sipping your vodka pink lemonade.

“what, mama?” he knows what, he’s just entertaining you because you’re cute when you’re drunk — not like he’d ever admit to thinking that.

“means theyre gonna go do it,” john b even laughs at that, which makes you laugh more. “thought you liked her, jayj,” you say after the giggles stop.

“who? kie?” he asks, faking obliviosness.

“mhm,”

he shakes his head. “nah. no, she’s all pope’s. plus, shes like, a bop, always going after another guy,”

“ew, jj, don’t say bop,” john b cringes.

“then who do you like?” you ask, too drunk to care that you’re prying.

“can’t tell you that, ‘s a secret,”

“jayj, thats no fun!” you pout, gently pushing his bicep which makes him laugh. “just tell me, probably won’t even remember tomorrow,”

“yeah yeah. maybe later,”

sarah whispers something to john b and he makes up some shitty excuse and leaves.

“dunno why everyone is hooking up,” you say. “‘s dumb, don’t like being the only single one,”

he rolls his eyes. “i’m single too, mama, y’not the only one, i feel you,”

“yeah, but you like someone. you always get who you like, it’s how you work,”

“what, and you don’t? huh? remember in sophomore year when you kissed topper thornton because you had that kook phase?”

“it was a peck, we didn’t even make out,” you argue. “never made out with anyone before,” you murmur under your breath.

his eyebrows furrow. sorry, did he hear you right? “what?” he asks, implying that you repeat yourself louder.

“i’ve never made out with anyone before.” you admit a bit louder.

“c’mooon,” he takes a sip of his beer. “that’s not true. you’re drunk, stop lying,”

“m’not lying!”

the water moves as he gets a bit closer to you. “y/n, im 100% sure you’re lying. i mean come on, you’re the prettiest girl on the island, you’ve even got kooks, like — rafe cameron type shit — going after you. and you’ve never made out with someone?”

you splash him with the hot water. “stop rubbing it in,”

“hey hey, not trying to be mean, mama,”

“just because you’re always making out with girls doesnt mean that everyone does. you’re a player,” the insult is obviously not said seriously.

“hey, i ain’t a player, i just..” you roll your eyes. “you’re gross,” you say, but you’re back to smiling.

“i could always help you out. i mean cmon, it would be fun, having someone you’re close to being your first. not some random kook,”

“what do you mean?”

“i’m just saying that if you need it, i got it. i got it everyday.”

so you’re not exactly sure when you ended up on your best friend’s lap, but you really like it. being on top of jj maybank, the cutest surfer and pogue in town, a literal light in the OBX. you’re having fun, giggling between kisses when he says something silly or gets dramatic when you nip his lower lip. it’s like he’s putting on a show to make you more comfortable. your hand is tracing his abs underneath the water, feeling him up, your other hand on his shoulder. his hands are everywhere — like, literally everywhere your pink bikini doesn’t cover. it’s clear he’s been wanting to do this for a while.

you two take breaks to have a sip of your drinks and get more drunk and have more fun. he tries a sip of your vodka lemonade and cringes at the sweetness, and you giggling and kiss him again. your lipgloss is making his lips and neck and jaw all sticky. he wonders where you got so good at this.

you go to feel him through his swim trunks, and he stops you, grabbing your poorly polished hand. “what?” you ask, smiling dropping.

“hey, c’mon, don’t wanna steal all your firsts in one night,” he squeezes your waist.

“when did you become responsible?”

“since now.”

you groan. “but i love the way you make me feel. do you not like me like that?”

“hey, princess, i got some feelings for you i’m not gonna get bored of. but let’s take it slow for me too, mkay mama? so it’ll be a first for me too.”

with that, you nod and go back to kiss him.