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comradekatara · 3 months

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Your atla analysis is the best so I wanted to ask your opinion on something I've found the fandom fairly divided on - what did you think of Azula's ending within the show proper? Unnecessarily cruel or a necessary tragedy? Would you say that her mental breakdown was too conveniently brought about in order to 'nerf' her for the final agni kai? Also, do you think it was 'right' for Zuko to have fought with his sister at all or would it have been better for him to seek a more humane way to end the cycle of violence?

okay so im saying this as someone who loves azula to death like she has always been one of my absolute favorite characters ever since i was a kid and i’ve always vastly preferred her to zuko and found her to be extremely compelling and eminently sympathetic. i am saying this now before the azula stans come for me. i believe in their beliefs. but i also think her downfall is perfectly executed, and putting aside all the bullshit with the comics and whatever else, it’s a really powerful conclusion to her arc. obviously that isn’t to say that she wouldn’t continue to grow and develop in a postcanon scenario (i have a whole recovery arc for her mapped out in my head, like i do believe in her Healing Journey) but from a narrative perspective, her telos is in fact very thematically satisfying.

no, she wasn’t nerfed so that they could beat her in a fight. the fact that she falls apart is what makes them feel that they can confidently take her on (although i do think in a fair fight katara could win anyway), but the whole point is that it’s not about winning or losing in combat. the whole point is that zuko and azula being pitted against each other in this gratuitous ritual of violence as the culmination of their arcs is fundamentally tragic. yes it’s a bad decision to fight her, and zuko should have chosen another path, but the whole point is that he’s flawed and can only subscribe to the logic he has spent his whole life internalizing through violence and abuse.

that’s why aang’s fight against ozai, while tragic in its own way, is also a triumph for the way in which his ideals prevail in the face of genocide, while zuko and azula’s fight is very patently tragic. there is no moment of victory or triumph. even as zuko sacrifices himself in a beautiful mirroring of “the crossroads of destiny” and as katara uses the element of her people combined with techniques across other cultures to use azula’s hubris and ideology of domination against her, it’s presented as moments of personal growth occurring within a very tragic yet inevitable situation. it was inevitable because azula had always been positioned as an extension of her father, and thus to disempower ozai also means disempowering azula, his favorite site of projection, his favorite weapon.

yeah, it does rub me the wrong way when zuko asks katara whether she’d like to help him “put azula in her place.” it’s not a kind way to talk about your abused younger sister. but it’s also important to understand that zuko doesn’t really recognize his sister’s pain, despite the fact that they obviously share a father, because he’s always assumed that she was untouchable as their perfect golden child and thus never a victim. and he’s wrong. zuko and katara expect a battle of triumph and glory, noble heroes fighting valiantly so that good may prevail over evil. but as they discover here, even more so than their previous discovery two episodes prior, a battle is not a legendary event filled with bombast and beauty until after it has been historicized. often a war is simply fought between pathetic, desperate people who see no other option but to fight.

aang’s ultimate refusal to fight despite having all the power in the world is what makes him so important as the protagonist. but katara and zuko both share a more simplistic view of morality and what it means to be good. and zuko assumes that by fighting azula, he can only be punching up, because she has always been positioned as his superior, and she (in her own words!) is a “monster.” and then azula loses, and his entire worldview shatters. joking about putting her in her place makes way for the realization that behind all her posturing and lying (to herself more than anyone) and performance and cognitive dissonance, azula has always been broken, perhaps even more than he is.

azula says “im sorry it has to end this way, brother,” to which zuko replies “no you’re not.” but i think azula is truly sorry, because in her ideal world, she wouldn’t be fighting zuko. she doesn’t actually want to kill him, as much as she claims to. she’s already reached the conclusion that zuko will only truly reach once their fight is over. she lacks a support system, and she needs one, desperately. if she could somehow get her family back, do everything differently, less afraid of the consequences, she would. she’s smirking, she sounds almost facetious, but really, she is sorry. as of this moment, she really doesn’t want it to end this way. but zuko cannot accept that, because in his mind, azula is evil. azula has no soul nor feeling. azula always lies.

her breakdown doesn’t come out of nowhere, either. it’s precipitated by everyone she has ever cared about betraying her. first zuko betrays her, then mai, then ty lee, and then ozai — the person she has staked her entire identity to and to whom she has pledged her undying loyalty and obedience, become nothing more than a vessel for his whims — discards her because she had the audacity to care about someone other than him. what i don’t think zuko realizes, and perhaps will never realize, is that azula betrayed ozai by bringing zuko back home. he was not supposed to be brought back with honor and with glory. azula specifically orchestrated the fight in the catacombs to motivate him to join her, and it’s not because she’s some cruel sadistic monster who wanted to separate a poor innocent soft uwu bean from his loving uncle, it’s because she genuinely believes that she’s doing what’s best for him. she believes that their uncle is a traitor and a bad influence, and she believes that bringing zuko home with his honor “restored” is an act of love. to her it is.

yes, she claims that she was actually just manipulating him so that she wouldn’t have to take the fall if the avatar was actually alive, but also, she’s clearly just covering her own ass. she didn’t know about the spirit water, and only started improvising when zuko started showing hesitation. but even if she was only using zuko, then that was an insane risk to take, because either way she was lying directly to ozai’s face. and zuko admits it to ozai while simultaneously committing treason, so of course ozai would blame azula, his perfect golden child who tried to violate his decree by bringing zuko back home a prisoner at best and dead at worst, and instead found a way to restore his princehood with glory.

we only see ozai dismissing and discarding azula in the finale, but it’s clearly a tension that’s been bubbling since the day of black sun. and we know this because we do see azula falling apart before the finale. in “the boiling rock” she is betrayed by her only friends. in “the southern raiders” we see that this has taken a toll on her, that she is already somewhat unhinged. she and zuko tie in a one on one fight for the first time. and she takes down her hair as she uses her hairpin to secure herself against the edge of a cliff. unlike zuko, who is helped by his friends and allies, who has a support system. it’s a very precarious position; she’s literally on a cliff’s edge, alone, her hair down signifying her unraveling mental state. azula having her hair down signals to us an audience that she is in a position of vulnerability. she is able to mask this terrifying moment wherein she nearly plummets to her death with a triumphant smirk, but it should be evident to us all that her security is fragile here.

and the thing is, even though she’s always masked it with a smirk and perfect poise, her security has always been fragile. azula has never been safe. azula’s breakdown is simply the culmination of her realization that no matter how hard she tries, she will never be ozai’s perfect weapon, because she is a human being. she is a child, no less. and there is no one in her entire life who loves her for nothing. zuko has iroh, who affirms to him that he could never be angry with zuko, that all he wants is simply what is best for zuko. but azula doesn’t have unconditional support in her life. she doesn’t even have support.

everyone she ever thought she could trust has betrayed her, and so she yells that trust is for fools. because she feels like a fool. of course fear is the only way; it’s what kept her in line all these years. azula is someone who is ruled by fear, and who is broken by the recognition that fear isn’t enough. her downfall is necessarily tragic because her worldview is wrong. the imperialist logic of terror as a tool for domination is her own undoing, just as ozai’s undoing is losing the weapon he has staked his national identity to. it’s a battle of ideals. aang v ozai: pacifism v imperialism. katara and zuko v azula: love and support v fear and isolation.

zuko is unfair to azula, it’s true. he tries to fight her even as he can clearly recognize that “she’s slipping.” instead of trying to help his little sister, he uses that weakness to his advantage, tries to exploit her pain so that he can finally, for the first time ever, beat her in a fight. it’s cruel, but it’s also how siblings act. especially considering the conditions under which they were raised, and how zuko has always viewed her. and in zuko’s defense, she has tried to kill him multiple times lately, both in “the boiling rock” and in “the southern raiders.” zuko is someone who gets fixated on a goal and blocks out everything else, including recognition of his surroundings or empathy for others. so of course when he’s promised to put azula in her place he’s going to exploit her weaknesses to do so. after all, isn’t exploiting his weaknesses exactly what azula does best? so he allows himself to stoop to her level, and in fact only redeems himself through his sacrifice for katara. but it is when azula is chained to the grate and zuko and katara, leaning on each other, look down and observe the sheer extent on her pain, that zuko realizes that “putting azula in her place” isn’t actually a victory. it feels really, really bad, actually.

they’re in a similar position as they were when they faced yon rha. and now it is zuko’s turn to understand that he is not a storybook hero triumphing over evil, but rather a human being, facing another human being, in a conflict that is larger than themselves. to “put someone in their place” is to imply a logic of domination, of inherent superiority, that someone has stepped out of line and must be reordered neatly into the hierarchy. but aang disputes the notion, ozai’s notion, that humanity can be classified along these lines, that there exists an ontological superiority among some and not others. so operation: putting azula in her place was always going to be flawed, even if she was performing competency the way she always does, because they’re nonetheless subscribing to her logic.

of course they should be helping azula, of course they should be reaching out to abuse victims through support instead of more violence. but first they must recognize her victimhood. first they must come to understand that they didn’t get lucky, and they didn’t dominate her because they are more “powerful,” that they weren’t “putting her in her place.” they must understand that they are not heroes fighting villains in a glorious trial by combat. that the logic of the agni kai is flawed. that they are all victims. that they are all just scared, hurt children who are still grieving their mothers.

#update: ok i readmored it 👍🏼#azula #analysis #zuko #katara #ozai #azula&zuko #azula&ozai #asks #malatilata #ugh azula is such a beautiful character….. i love her sm #her arc is so beautifully perfectly tragic #just thinking abt the mirror scene gets me sooo . distraught #this was supposed to be like 2 paragraphs lol #as is always the way . with me..

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snowyh2o · 22 days

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Just a random thought about how Alastor and Vox must’ve been really good friends before everything fell apart. Because Alastor knows how to make a video ad, he knows how to set things up for a movie/video shoot, things that had nothing to do with his medium, that he probably learned how to do because of Vox, because he was willing to try and learn from or for Vox. And Vox literally welcomes Alastor back home when he finds out he’s returned, has literally counted the years Alastor’s been missing when no one else seemed to know, and fashioned his clothing style to match Alastor’s (assuming it’s not just a case of everyone gets a pinstripe suit!), uses the same techniques Alastor taught Charlie about how smiling can be a tool to keep you ahead of the game.

And how it all fell apart and it wasn’t just Vox that was hurt in the process. Because you can’t tell me the man who hates TVs and modern tech due to its association with Vox doesn’t feel anything for what friendship they had and lost. Who snarls at the mere sight of him on a screen (admittedly while also dissing Alastor), who went straight back to his radio tower to diss Vox right back (and absolutely crush him lol), before threatening him against taking action, privately, twice. Alastor’s just better at hiding how much it’s affected him, and doesn’t let the bitterness of what used to be consume his every waking thought.

And maybe that’s the difference between how they view their old relationship and how the fandom seems to view it. Alastor’s upset about it, sure. He’s bitter now about Vox and everything Vox represents because he’s a past friendship that failed, but he’s also moved on with his life. Vox hasn’t. Vox still obsesses over Alastor, in the way he dresses, the way he talks, how he presents himself. It’s all reminiscent of Alastor. And when he finds out Alastor’s returned, the first thing he does is draw attention to how Alastor’s back! Talk in a roundabout way about how much he’s missed him! Has wondered where he’s been? Sends a spy into the hotel to, well, spy on Alastor! And when that doesn’t work, Vox continues to stalk Alastor through his drones instead. (And then gets off on seeing Alastor get beat up.)

Vox very much has not moved on from whatever friendship they’d had before. He hasn’t moved on from Alastor. (Or from his heavily implied obsessive crush).

We don’t know what happened between them, aside that it’s complicated and sad, that they were friends, and now they’re very much not, and that maybe part of the reason why is because Alastor rejected Vox’s request to join his team (upend his entire life to partner with Vox, assuming Alastor always worked solo and what the Vees currently have is what Vox had wanted with Alastor with his request). We can assume maybe part of why they fell apart was because Vox wanted something more from his relationship with Alastor, something Alastor could not and did not want to give him. Or maybe they just grew apart, grew distant. Vox constantly upgrading and changing and keeping up with the newest trends, chasing whatever new Thing that’ll keep him relevant, while Alastor remained set in his ways because he’s not looking for the approval of the masses.

Anyways, all this to say: when I, and I assume most other OneWayBroadcast fans talk about one-sided radiostatic, it is specifically about how Vox has a one-sided romantic/sexual attraction/crush on Alastor, that Alastor does not return, that has now turned into a one-sided obsession over Alastor. Not that their entire friendship was completely one-sided. I think saying that Vox was the only one who was ever invested in their relationship is a rather bad faith interpretation of Alastor’s character, but also does not do their relationship justice at all. It minimizes Vox’s responsibility in the fallout of their friendship, and puts the blame only on Alastor. It takes away all the juicy complexities of Vox’s character, how he’s bad person who’s done and is doing bad things, and paints him as an innocent victim to “Alastor’s manipulation”.

That’s not to say Alastor was completely innocent in the fallout either. But I hear a lot more about how the fandom woobifies Vox in their relationship than I do Alastor.

#hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #Vox #vox hazbin hotel #Alastor analysis #Alastor meta #hazbin hotel analysis #hazbin hotel meta #radiostatic #onesided radiostatic #onewaybroadcast #<- tagging those because it’s mentioned though the post isn’t about the ship #Aroace alastor #aromantic alastor #asexual Alastor #<- mentioned #am I vagueing something I saw in the Aroace Alastor tag? maybe #but this is something I’ve seen and heard from other people elsewhere #about how only Vox cared and Alastor was just ‘manipulating’ him #and other bad faith interpretations of Alastor’s character #I’m sorry if someone moving on from past relationships makes them an irredeemable monster to you #but Vox’s feelings are not Alastor’s responsibility #it’s on Vox and Vox alone to deal with it #that he’s chosen to obsess over it instead of moving on and getting together with Val #is alllllll Vox

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tartiloser · 8 months

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SCREAM HEADCANONS ☆ better call stu!

starring. . . afab , gender neutral reader and stu macher. warning for nsfw , unfaithfulness ( both reader + their boyfriend cheat ), + mentions of threesomes. requested by ; no one ( 10 / 22 / 23 ) + fandom masterlist ; here.

author notes; stu isn’t dating tatum in this ;p . he’s my fav freaky link idc, he’s so goofy-weird that it’s really fun to write him.

stu macher!

— when your boyfriend won’t get you off or, more accurately, can’t get you off, you better call stu. he’s always down to rearrange your guts or eat you out just to make you cum, something your boyfriend seems to have trouble with. you don’t remember how you two began this arrangement but he’s just the right amount of freaky and sweet, making him perfect your needs.

— stu’s your dirty little secret, and he doesn't shy away from it. in fact, macher takes a sort of sick pride in it, bringing it up often. he especially loves teasing you from between your legs. “has your boyfriend ever made you cum?” he’ll ask, pretending to be curious as he wipes his mouth. “has anyone made you cum as much as i do, babe? be honest.”

— stu adores eye contact with you during your sneaky sex sessions. he loves it when you’re facing each other. it isn’t rare for him to hold your chin or simply demand that you look at him. he wants to watch your facial expressions, making sure that the pleasure he gives you outweighs any sort of guilt you may have about cheating on that guy you’re with. besides, it’s not like your boyfriend’s loyal either— macher loves to remind you that he’s likely been with the whole cheer team.

— he’ll thrust into you from behind and murmur, “he’s probably with some other girl right now anyways.” he knows his words hurt a little, but it’s hard to focus on how mean stu was being when he was fucking you so well. “just forget about him. focus on me, baby, I’ll be right here with you all night.”

— he hates it when you call out your boyfriend’s name as he’s fucking you. it’s a reminder that you’re not really his, even though it felt like you were. whenever you slip up, he asks you flat out, “who’s blowing your back out right now?” if you don’t respond promptly, he’ll simply continue on, “c’mon, baby, say it, say the name of the guy who’s filling you up, making good use of your pussy. say it.”

— occasionally, you catch macher making love to you. not having sex, making love. he’s usually only ever somewhat romantic after he fucks you, giving you some pretty sweet aftercare (something your boyfriend didn’t even know about). every so often, though, he’ll kiss you gently before and after. and during, if you’re lucky. he takes his time, admiring your body and uttering soft praises to you as he runs his hands all over. every so often, he makes love to you as if you’re his.

— you had begged stu not to tell anyone about your situation. who’s to say if he’s kept good on that promise, though. you’re almost certain that macher told billy, based on the looks his friend gives you. speaking of loomis… sometimes stu brings up the idea of him joining. you’re not sure if billy knows that secret just yet.

— “maybe I should invite billy sometime,” he’ll whisper as he’s fingering you. macher’ll lean in, pressing a sloppy kiss to the shell of your ear, “i’m sure he’d love to see you like this. don’t worry, I won’t let him touch you— he’ll sit right over there and jerk off in the corner. wouldn’t that be hot, baby? wouldn’t it be fun?”

— you’re too busy moaning to admit you’re into the idea, which is probably for the best. for now, all you needed was stu to get you off. all you wanted was for him to make you feel heavenly in the ways your boyfriend couldn't.

— he’s never asked you to break up with your boyfriend, even though it’s clear that macher wants you to. you had assumed after some time that he was just waiting for you to break it off of your own free will. in truth, however, stu was just waiting on a good opportunity to get rid of the guy himself. he’d make your boyfriend disappear completely in a more... permanent... manner.

#tartiloser #my work #slasher movies #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #scream 1996 #scream x reader #scream stu #stu macher #stu macher x reader #stu x reader #billy loomis mentioned #stu #stu macher smut

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walrus150915 · 10 days

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Happy pride, Nimona fandom :3

I gotcha some sketches! Gotta place them in different parts of the post so that you read everything

It's not just drawings I got HEADCANONS for you too!

Off topic but I love Nimona's design SO MUCH it's so AMAZING TO DRAW AGHHH

⚧Nimona LGBTQ+ specific headcanons of mine🏳‍🌈

• I've made a conclusion that if queer flags exist in Nimona universe, as well as gay drag bars (so was confirmed in the artbook), then labels DO exist. As well as good old homophobia??? I suppose????

• Nimona doesn't have a specific label because she thinks they are sorta restrictive. Also she just doesn't need one lol, if somebody asked her about her gender she'd say "Nimona"

• She'd wear the heck out of a "protect trans kids" shirt she bought no she ain't feeding into the capitalist machine she stole it

• There was something between Nimona and Gloreth but Nimona can't exactly say what for sure. Not exactly romantic but not strictly platonic. Homegirl had that toxic doomed kindergarten yuri going on😭

• Nimona doesn't look for romantic relationships. She explains it as "romance is for sappy dumb-dumbs" but in reality she just doesn't want to date and romantically love somebody who'll. Eventually die and leave her all by herself again yk (oh this got angsty real fast)

• Maybe one day Ballister tried to help her find her label (because he still tries to put things in boxes) and she just waved it off

Speaking of Ballister

• My man is transgender. Do I even have to explain. Read one of those posts that explain his transness better LMAO

• He started his medical transition as a teenager and had to fit right in not to disrupt the Institute's function. If he's a man then he has to transition QUICKLY so that others don't notice

• Because of that he's a transmedicalist and probably an enbyphobe at the start of the movie, thinking only one type of valid transness exists, and it's the one that is very binary and restrictive

• At the end he realizes the wrong of his ways and works on the internalized transphobia

• He came to terms with his homosexuality a bit easier. "It's always been boys" yk the drill

A couple of words about his boy lol

• Ambrosius is a painfully cisgender gay man. I genuinely apologize to all Transbrosius believers but he gives off STRONG cis vibes can't have a character with this surname dickless

• He's a trans ally but his opinions on trans issues were like. Very closed-minded. He supported but didn't entirely understand. Of course it changed as he went through ✨character development✨

• He was fully supportive of Ballister on his trans journey. Reassured him when Ballister felt like he wasn't enough, tried to make his boyfriend as secure as possible, loving every part of him

There should be a bunch of rather suggestive headcanons but this isn't that type of post LOL

No but think about Ambrosius kissing down Ballister's body and across his chest scars. This is my ultimate dream as a trans man

• Ambrosius also rocks a "protect trans kids" shirt that's for SURE

• He came to terms with his queerness as a teenager and had a whole crisis about it. As a Goldenloin he had the expectations of ✨continuing Gloreth's bloodline✨ thrown at him back in childhood so he sorta internalized that. Then boom, my boy is g a y and oh how gay he is!

• Click here to read about my headcanons on goldenheart when they had only started falling in love :D

• Ambrosius made inoffensive jokes about Ballister's transness. Like yk those goofy puns like "baby you put men in MENstruation", "omg does this make your parents transparent". Ballister smiled at them and rolled his eyes but also silently appreciated his bf's support, although expressed so stupidly

• He also made sure Ballister took proper care of his body because you know Ballister would not bind safely, being a dumb teen

Anyway yeah gay people

Unpopular opinion but we as a fandom should start drawing Bal with a disability queer pride flag

Side characters headcanons, anyone? XD

• Diego came out as nonbinary after the events of the movie. He got that he/they swag going on

• Also Ballister was his queer awakening FIGHT ME ABOUT IT. He had the stupidest, most childish celebrity crush on Bal. Maybe Bal formed Diego's type in men fjfhhx I like to think Diego got a boyfriend whose attitude is similar to Bal's

• Remember those news anchors? (they are so underrated omg) Well Nate Knight has a husband and Alanzapam Davis is a bi queen🙏

• Speaking of queens. Valerin is a straight ally💪💪 I imagine her being quite iconic on the Kingdom's queer side of the internet. They call her "mother" and stuff aajjaj

• the Director is homophobic, need I say more? So is Todd but I actually imagine him being a type of guy to reject his queerness

Haha mailman *winks at yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt*

• Todd had NO idea Ballister was trans. NONE

• The Kingdom has pride events!! Ambrosius and Ballister were very happy and excited to attend those as an official couple once they were out :}

• Nimona attended them every year, ofc she had to hide her true nature but it was fun for her to march along! And it was even more fun when everyone accepted her!!

Anyway yeah this was very fun to make!! Happy pride y'all, lmk what you think ;D

#nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #goldenheart #nimona fanart #nimona headcanons #actually therapeutic to make such a post while living in a violently queerphobic country #i wish to attend a pride march someday i know i will cry HARD once i do #in a body i dont hate and with a healed soul #sorry to make this depressing #happy pride 🌈#pride 2024 #lgbtq #transgender #diego the squire #queen valerin #the director nimona #todd sureblade

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sameschmidtdiffname · 4 months

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feeling a bit weird asking this request since i haven't actually seen anyone write such a thing, but i'd like to ask for something about the parent figure!mike (NOT SMUT OFC), maybe something he's the reader's father or brother or something, if it's not something you could write just ignore !!! (i'm also not a native speaker so i apologize if it sounds impolite i always have this problem :/)

Girl have you read my fics?? Do NAWT come on here talking about feeling weird for a request when I have written shit that's sending me to super hell with Jensen Ackles or whoever played the angel guy from Supernatural. (I hope that joke made sense, I'm not in that fandom </3)

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!! Fresh off the press for you pookie <3 (BTW, your English js great and you weren't demanding at all!! Seriously, don't feel bad 😊)

Same Shit, Different Schmidt

Dad! Mike & Gender Neutral! Reader

(This gif always sends me, I'm sorry)

Summery: You are a stubborn ass and Mike is not here to put up with that shit. Where'd you get this attitude, anyways? Is it so hard to just listen?

Tags: No use of Y/N, Reader is Mike's child, this is lowkey a sequel to 'What's One More?' but that is absolutely not required to read this, sickness, reader almost passes out, slight angst, Mike takes care of reader, Mike has a come to Jesus moment, mentions of arguing, injury, underage drinking, Abby and Mike go at it at one point, just a cute lil drabble :)

Notes: it feels illegal to post something so short. Is this allowed?? Anyways, this was so cute to write! Definitely a new approach. I hope you guys like this! Thanks for the request anon, I always love getting them 💗

▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

"I'm fine," you groaned emphatically, trying to to rise from the bed, musty from your body's sweat during the night.

"You are not fine, do not bullshit me," Mike scolded. His hands pressed you back onto the bed, his scowl growing as he feels your temperature through your moist shirt. "When did this start?"

"I told mom my throat hurt last night and she gave me some ibuprofen. It's seriously just a cold," you said, trying one more time to rise from the bed.

"You always get a sore throat before you get sick, have since you were a kid. When did the fever start?" His hand feels freezing against your clammy forehead, making you shy away to avoid the chills that threaten you.

"Not hot."

"You want me to call your mom so you can gaslight her, too?" His tone is firm and threatening. "Is there something you're trying to get away with here or...?"

"I have tech tonight for my show, I can't miss," you finally admit. You open your mouth to continue, but Mike quickly cuts you off.

"No. Out of the question," he said.

"Dad, I'll get in trouble-"

"You will get everyone else sick and then what? I said no," he said firmly. But when he sees the way you sink into the bed, eyes sad and finally accepting the situation, he thinks of your mother acting in a similar manner or Abby when she was your age with the same attitude. It makes him relent, pressing his lips tight together. "What do you need me to do?" He asked, voice softer as he strokes your cheek. Your eyes brighten for a moment, a smile breaking out. "You're not going, I'm just asking what I could do to help."

You sink into the bed once more, crossing your arms.

"My director is gonna hate me," you mumble.

"I will deal with her, or she will deal with me. I promise you one's better than the other," he said. At that you crack a smile, finally looking at him.

"Mom's not gonna be pleased either," you said.

"Mom's not gonna let you go either," he said. "I'm getting the thermometer and then I'm moving you to the living room so I can watch you better. You get control of the TV as your consolation prize."

You twirl your finger in the air, rolling your eyes as emit a mocking 'yay,' glaring at him as he shoots the same glare down at you, walking out of the room and slipping his phone out of his pocket to call your mother.

"How upset are they?" She asked on the other side of the phone. He could hear the office chatter going on around her as he searched through the cabinets for the supplements they kept in stock.

"They're not thrilled. Not planning my death yet, but it's coming," Mike huffed. "Is it elderberry that helps with sore throats?"

"Elderberry makes it worse after you get sick, helps before. Don't give them that," she said. There's a slight pause before she adds "You realize this attitude is inherited?"

"Oh," he groaned, sucking on his teeth. "I wasn't gonna throw you under the bus like that."

"I helped raise Abby, do not pin this on me," she laughed.

"I don't deny sickness," Mike said.

"I can name five seperate instances where you did," she countered. Mike froze for a moment, trying to remember. "Just go easy on them. Remember you're dealing with your kid."

"And yours," he countered.

"Supposedly," she teased.

"I'm pretty sure that was you I knocked up."

"But are you sure?"

"Well, there was that one time with your mom."

She laughed. "Have them text me when they can. I'll deal with director, she knows me better."

"Thanks. She terrifies me. Kinda get why they don't wanna miss," Mike admitted. With a quick laugh and a quicker goodbye, Mike clicks off the call, slipping the phone back into his pocket. He gathered the vitamins in a small cup, grabbed the other needed items and made his way back to the room that used to house his little sister.

"Okay, Mom's dealing with director and is willing to grab dinner of your choice if you'll-" Mike trails off at the sight of your empty bed, worry prickling through and tainting the annoyance rising in his chest. He calls your name, turning to look for you before his ears tune in on the shower running in the bathroom. He sighs, placing the items on your bedside table and making his way to the living room. All is well until about ten minutes after the water shuts off, when he heard a small but sure 'thud' ring from the room.

"Honey?" He called. Nothing.

He rises from his chair, his mind trying to remind himself to stay calm and not jump to its automatic thoughts of harm and anxiety as he walked quickly to the door.

"If you don't answer I'm coming in," he warned. The quiet groan on the otherside is all he needed to quickly open the unlocked door, trying not to panic as he catches sight of you curled up on the floor with your head between your knees.

"I'm fine," you said quietly. "Got dizzy." Your clothes are thrown on haphazardly and it's clear how disoriented you are. Your hair doesn't even look properly washed.

Mike's arms are comforting, familiar and protective as he carefully lifts you up, taking you to the couch as though you weigh nothing to him. When his mind is racing like this, you may as well not.

"What were you thinking?" He asked in a panicked voice. "I told you you weren't going."

"My director hates me and tech is like, our biggest practice. I can't miss," you insisted, barely able to stand the light shining through the open windows. The couch is cool against your skin, the old leather offering relief. Mike had brought it home a few years back, a surprise he'd found at a thrift store with your help. Still pricey but a Christmas gift for everyone in the house. Your mother shook her head as she finally agreed maybe the couch that was as old as her needed to be replaced.

"Your mom is dealing with her and she's gonna deal with you next if you don't listen to either of us," Mike said. He ran back to your room, collecting the items and returning to your side before you could even respond. "Can you just let us take care of you?"

Oh. Oh. Fine, okay. There it is. He hears it now, that point your mother had just been making.

As the thermometer takes longer than he'd like to beep, he sighs at the sight of you looking like death on the couch. "You get this attitude from me," he finally sighed. You raise your brow quizzically, waiting for him to continue. A soft noise emits from the device. Mike takes it from your mouth and scowls at the number that flashes back at him. He hands you a now room temperature cup of throat coat tea with three ibuprofen to help with the fever before he takes your hand.

"Did I tell you about the time your mother had to drag me to the emergency room for stitches on my forehead?" He asked, smiling. You snort, taking another sip of your drink. "It happened when you were little. I don't even think you were two. Abby was going out with this idiot and figured out how to take out the screen in her window so she could sneak out without any of us knowing. This girl was bad news, I mean-"

"Aunt Abby?" You asked.

"What? No. No, the girl she was going out with, Lisa Browning. Had her come home with a belly button piercing once, I wasn't happy about that. Anyways, Abby decided that she was going to this party one night and I'd found her bed empty halfway through the night while I was going to check on you. Well, I decided I was gonna wait for her in her room with the lights off until she got home. So I sat in front of her window and eventually got tired, so I shut my eyes. Figured it couldn't hurt. Took a couple hours, but eventually your mother woke up and my side of the bed was empty and she heard this loud as fuck noise from your aunts room. This is like four in the morning, mind you," he said. "So she jumped out of bed and heard your aunt yelling, saw some guy in dark clothes on the floor, open window and the lights are off, and she's still wiping sleep out of her eyes."

"Oh no," you groaned.

"Oh yes. Grabbed some metal Eiffel Tower thing on Abby's desk and just swung at my head. Hurt like a bitch," he laughed, you joining in as much as you could without hurting your throat. "It was a good hit. I think she realized it was me when I grabbed her ankle and hollered her name cause she stopped right after that. Wasn't too bad, but I wouldn't stop bleeding."

"So did Abby get in trouble?" You asked.

"Are you kidding? I was even more pissed, I chased her down the hallway after her girlfriend climbed in and fell on top of me. I was ready to kill her. Your mother had to drag me and her into the car, go back and grab you and deal with us screaming at each other all the way to the hospital. Not that I wanted to go, I was fine with just pressing a dishcloth to the thing and carrying on with my plan to rip my sister a new one. She had to threaten us both to actually get me inside, and I only conceded because I was too dizzy to object by that point. I think the nurses assumed she was insane. I mean, kid on her hip, dressed in pajamas with some drunk teenager bickering with a guy bleeding from his head at the crack of dawn. I'm surprised no one called the cops. They did have to almost seperate Abby and I, though. Which just upset me more."

"How did they get you to calm down?" You asked.

"Your mother handed you to me while she walked Abby to a bathroom so she could take a go at her. And you were all upset anyways because I wasn't paying attention to you and you didn't understand why the nurses were fuckin' with me or why I was upset. Once I had you in my arms I refocused, calmed down a good bit. Someone brought me a book to read you and we got to focus on that while they prepped me for stitches," he said the last part softly. "I was so glad when Abby got out of her teen rebellion phase."

"She ruined mine," you joked.

"Yeah. She used pretty much every trick in the book, so we were ready for you. Sorry," he said.

"It's fine, I don't like parties."

"I don't either."

Mike's phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked it, typing a quick response before refocusing on you. "Your mother wants to know what you're thinking for dinner," he said.

"Chinese?" You asked.

"That comes from your mom's side," he smiled. "She'll be pleased."

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

Short but sweet. This was a fun one :)

Taglist:

@jhutchissupercool @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support! <3

Masterlist

#josh hutcherson fnaf #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #mike schmidt #mike fnaf #mike #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt x you #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson x reader #jhutch

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scarlet6rose · 4 months

Text

Soo just wanna talk a bit I guess

It's about good omens I know, I know. Half of the fandom is in mourning 'cause of Aziraphale and Crowley in s2 ep6 but I just want to do a character analysis of both for some more added information (ig). Now, I don't know if someone has already done this analysis or not, but fuck it, I'ma just do them anyways. I think we can look at Crowley first since most people do relate to him more than anyone else. In season 1, we are introduced to the fact that Crowley is the snake from Eden. That in itself makes him very important, but in season 2 episode 1, his importance rises so much. We find the fact that they were the ones who geared up the universe, "Let there be light" and stuff, he also said that he worked very close with upstairs. In the final episode of season 2, he could also open a confidential file that could only be accessed by a throne, a dominion, or above. This means; that before falling, he was extremely important/had a high status (whether he was Raphael or not doesn't matter). Again, in the last episode of season 2, during their breakup, he says, "I understand it a lot better than you do." to Aziraphale when he suggests that Crowley go up to heaven with him. Crowley, in this scenario, knows what's going on. He has clearly seen what heaven is like, top to bottom. From Crowley's point of view, both heaven and hell do not understand that there doesn't need to be a war. That Armageddon doesn't need to happen. He has always seen things in grey, from the beginning. Questioning God and her plans; not fully abiding with hell, like, ever; doing whatever the fuck he wants. Now, before I continue, I think I should give Aziraphale's character some more context. I have been hearing about the coffee theory in the fandom. in simple words: Metatron put something in the coffee and manipulated Aziraphale to become the supreme archangel with it. it definitely is an interesting theory, but there isn't much proof I can see. Mainly because, we see their conversation (in bits a pieces, sure), and you can see Aziraphale acting normally. He's wary and concerned. But from the beginning, Aziraphale has always (mostly) seen in Black and Whites (contrary to Crowley). Even if he denies it, he does (it's hard to forget what you believed since you existed). The only person who's shown Aziraphale that, "Hey, there can be more than one option" is Crowley. Only with Crowley has he ever had the choices (not just good and evil). Even then, he believed Heaven is always good and hell's always evil (he has made multiple remarks about him being good and Crowley being evil, for example, in the flashback of the Edinburgh surgeon, he has made that remark. Even when they met in season 1, he said, "Well obviously, you're a demon." after Crowley said that hell just said to go up there and make some trouble). This in itself proves that Aziraphale always thought in black and white even when he tries to divert himself to not think like that. In his eyes, Heaven is good, and Hell is evil. But the angels and the demons can be in between those shades of grey. That Heaven is currently corrupted, and Hell, even more. He doesn't want another Armageddon, he wants heaven to understand what it means to be "good" (good in atleast his eyes). In very simple words; Aziraphale believes that Heaven isn't working properly/is corrupt and wants to/thinks that he can infact fix it, and Crowley believes everything is working the way it's supposed to since he has seen it personally displayed infront of him, since he has been a high ranking angel in Heaven. Or in much simpler words: THEY DON'T FUCKING TALK TO EACHOTHER.

If the both of them could've had a heart-to-heart talk earlier, it could've ended so much differently. Neither of them knows what the other feels and just assumes what they think the other one thinks. It in itself is a toxic mindset to have. They both didn't "break up" because Metatron manipulates Aziraphale or because Aziraphale couldn't return Crowley's feelings (man's (non-binary) literally fell first). It was because neither of them understood eachother. Aziraphale sees Crowley as a demon who wants desperately to be an angel (many indirect remarks have been made like in Job's arc and such) and someone who accidentally fell (which is true at some level). AND Crowley sees Aziraphale as a simple-minded angel who needs rescuing from time to time (which, again, is true at some level). They both are literally forgetting their own nuances and beliefs, and assuming what the other thinks because, say it with me, THEY DO NOT TALK. The reason Crowley felt betrayed was because he didn't realize that Aziraphale wasn't exactly who he thought he was. After all, Aziraphale isn't a simple character, he's a complex character with very strict (too strict) morals. And Aziraphale realized that Crowley really didn't want to go to Heaven OR Hell, since he always thought that Crowley only hated Hell, not Heaven aswell. So it was a shock to him. WHY? BECAUSE THEY DON'T FUCKING TALK TO EACHOTHER. So, when people say that it's because of the coffee, it pisses me off a little. It practically refuses the idea of nuances existing within these characters. Listen, if it's actually because of the coffee or Metatron doing/saying something sinister to Aziraphale, I'll take my L. But for now, I wholeheartedly believe that it was fully Aziraphale's decision to go to Heaven.

so yeah, that's all, I might add to this later, might not.

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thebluestbluewords · 5 months

Text

and soon it’ll be spring

testing out some character voices. Set in a vague future timeline, fandom-typical discussions of child abuse.

Carlos hasn't seen his mother in years. Hasn't spoken to her since he left the isle. There's phones, and computers, and mail service to the isle, and sometimes the reception even works now, but he hasn't reached out.

Evie sends letters to her mother sometimes. She addresses them to her old castle, encloses herbs and chocolate and eyeshadow. She doesn't read the responses that come back, but her mother sends them anyway, and Evie keeps sending her packages even though she can't bear to see whatever her mother has to say back to her.

Carlos can't even do that.

He's a bad son, probably. An ungrateful brat. Useless. Worthless. His mother could have drowned him as a baby, killed him like an unwanted puppy, and they'd all have been better off without the bother. He's been a bad son since he was born. Weak. A vulnerability.

He breathes, keeps his voice steady. "Yup. That."

Diego moves in a flurry of violent motion. He's facing away, towards the river, but Carlos still has to suppress the urge to flinch. Diego wears heavy boots, steel-toes even though he's never been in a real factory in his life, and every Isle kid's seen the damage they can do.

The rock he kicked goes flying into the river.

"Fuck." his cousin snaps. "Fuck! I remember that."

Carlos can't laugh, but there's a sort of bubbling fear that's catching in his throat, and he can let some of it out. "Hah. Yeah. Um, I sort of — I cried a lot, that summer? It was hot and awful and you wouldn't come by the house, and I wasn't allowed to be at yours, so we started looking for a better hideout that year. D'you remember when Ivy found that place by the forest—"

"—the one with the metal roof, where we got trapped by Kaa and you rigged a crossbow out of guitar strings." Diego finishes. "Fuck. I knew we found a new hideout that year, but I thought it was 'cause we got those drums for Sierra and couldn't keep them quiet down in the warehouse."

Carlos shrugs. He's always been the little one, the tag-along. Diego's gang didn't tell him anything when he was a kid, and they still don't really talk. He's magicam friends with Sierra and Ivy, but Mia won't even accept his follow request. They didn't want him then, they don't want him now, and it's not even really a sore point anymore. He's got his own pack. No teenagers really want a little kid hanging around them, especially a kid who's already showing that he's a weak point. "Might'a been. I dunno."

"Nah, it was 'cause dad didn't want you hanging around the house anymore," Diego says firmly, shaking his head. "We found a new place so you'd have somewhere to go'n hide when your mom went ballistic. You were tiny, y'know."

It's sort of a logical leap, but sort of not.

"I'm still short." Carlos points out. "You don't feel compelled to protect me now, right?"

"Hah. Hah. Very funny, nerd."

"I'm just saying—”He ducks the hand that shoots out to scrub his hair into a rat's nest. Score one for Isle kid instincts. "I'm say-ing," Carlos continues, undeterred. "That you didn't have to protect me back then. I could've taken care of myself."

"You were a kid."

"And you were what, twelve? Thirteen?"

"Older," Diego says firmly. He's still looking out towards the water. "Old enough to protect my baby cousin."

"Mom didn't kill me. I'm still here."

Diego's arms are smooth and unmarked by the round cigarette burns that cover Carlos's arms, hands, chest, belly. Anywhere he was soft, she liked to burn.

"She could've," Diego rasps out. "She almost did. I wasn't big enough to stop her."

"The spell—”

"FUCK THE SPELL." he shouts. Too loud. People are looking at them. People in Auradon love to stare and judge VKs, even when they're dressed just like anyone else in the city, but shouting was a reason to stare even back home.

Diego notices, and drops his arms down, swinging the cup in his hand back and forth like a melting pendulum of coffee and sugar. "Fuck it," he repeats, quieter. "If Auradon wanted us alive so bad, they should've put in the work themselves instead of relying on the barrier to keep bouncing us back."

Carlos lifts one shoulder in agreement. He's pretty sure that the spell does a lot more than just keep them in their bodies, what with the healing factor and the way it won't kick you back in unless you've got a body to go back to, but it's a solid enough argument if you don't go into specifics. Claudine and the religious types at Dragon Hall had a whole rant on tap about how the barrier was being used to bounce their souls out of their path to heaven, so that they'd rejoin their bodies again and keep them alive even longer, but thinking about the concept of souls makes Carlos feel an emotion that Mal calls "stabbing" and Jay calls "a working bullshit sensor." Evie calls it "a rational emotional response to religious guilt-tripping bullshit", which sounds better than stabbing, but like, the point still stands that souls aren't real and listening to Claudine's lecture about them makes Carlos feel mostly doubtful, and also sort of like he's a shitty person. Which is probably the point of religion.

"S'not really bouncing," he says quietly, keeping his voice low and face turned down. People stare less if they're not obviously talking to each other, because Auradon has different standards for communication and watching VKs shout-talk directly at each other makes people stare. "It's not like we ever really die."

Diego levels a flat look at him.

"Okay, yeah, they should've put more work into keeping us alive," Carlos agrees, because it's true. Auradon locked them up and threw away the key, and didn't even bother to check on their island of villains once they'd settled down from the initial bloodshed and power scrambles. "But the scientific basis for being bounced back into our bodies by the spell just isn't there. If they're using the barrier to trap our souls or whatever in an impenetrable bubble, then how're new souls getting in for the kids born on the Isle? If it's a true closed system it doesn't make sense. And I know--" He sucks in a breath before Diego can get a word in edgewise, because he knows. The souls aren't the point. The magic isn't even the point. "It doesn't matter how they're keeping us there so long as there's still kids starving and being killed on that rock. I know. But I can't push the wheels of government any faster, because I'm not the fucking king, or a representative, or anything. I'm a testimony at best,and it's not like being born on the Isle gives me the power to do anything about it."

Diego snorts. "Wow, you can't fix twenty years of systematic disenfranchisement on your own? Call the presses, my genius cousin can't fix something in five years that took twenty to break in the first place."

The guilt that lives in the place where other people keep their feelings swirls up in Carlos's chest again. "I could've tried."

"In between what, surviving high school? Petitioning the king to listen to us? 'Cause it seems like we're a lot further than we'd've been without your crew's work."

"I built a machine to break the barrier," Carlos tells the river. "Back home. Before we left. It nearly worked."

Diego kicks another rock into the river. "I know."

Carlos feels his heart stutter-stop. "You—what?"

"I know," Diego repeats. "You built shit all the time. You'd talk about it in your sleep. I stopped by that treehouse of yours one time, and you had the whole thing torn apart. You were talking to your crew about it. I listened for a while."

"When?"

The cold bottom of his cousin's coffee cup bonks into Carlos's skull. "Before you left, genius. I dunno. You didn't have it working yet."

"I thought I was being sneaky about that."

"You were. I'm just sneakier. If you'd been reverse engineering the whole barrier, you'd've built it better right?"

"I would've given us the dignity of dying, if that's what you're asking."

"Yeah." Diego says quietly, and then. "Fuck. That's morbid."

Carlos shrugs. Maybe thinking about better ways to die makes them morbid, but it's still comforting to think that if he'd been the one to engineer their prison, that he'd've been able to give them the mercy of actually dying. "We're villains. It's our speciality. We're supposed to be all about death, and murder, and stuff."

Diego laughs. They laugh the same way, the two of them. More of a bark than a real laugh. There's probably some irony there, if they wanted to go digging for it. "Didn't you hear, little cousin? We're supposed to be good now. No more murder. We're reformed villains, no more claws and fangs."

They're reformed, but Diego still calls at 3am sometimes, just to make sure that he's still breathing.

"Damn, guess I'll have to return the axe I bought," Carlos drawls, hefting his cup up like it's a weapon. "And the rat poison, and the chains for the dungeon..."

"Kinky."

#my fic #descendants #descendants fic #I don’t know if this makes sense anymore without the layers of Being Insane About My Own AU #but!!!#they’re talking about a specific family event that happened when they were like. Eleven and fourteenish.#carlos de vil #diego de vil #cinderellaverse

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 28 days

Text

05/15/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys Darby; The Cryptid Factor; Taika Waititi; Max News and Polite Menacing; June 3rd: Adopt Our Crew; Petition Status; Fan Spotlight; Mermay; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

Hey Lovelies, things got a little cut off cause my son decided to be awake all darn night so I didn't get to finish til this morning I know there's some stuff that wasn't included but I'll try to make sure it's in there tonight! <3

== Rhys Darby ==

Rhys and Dan are back on the mics doing more podcasts! There's a crossover podcast happening too!

Source: The Cryptid Factor Instagram

Also, new Cryptid Factor short Tiktok! If you've got Tiktok, please go over to The Cryptid Factor Tiktok page and send them some love! If you don't have tiktok, here's that video for you below:

Source: The Cryptid Factor Tiktok

== Taika Waititi ==

Pretty sure this picture has been out for a long while but it was recently reposted by Stephen Langdan on his Instagram so I thought I'd share it because it's a great photo of Taika.

Source: Stephen Langdan Photo

More Taika out and about with Rita <3

Source: VIP Magazine Albania

== Max "MakeItHappenHere" ==

In case you're unfamliar with what "Upfront" is (I certaintly was): "In TV advertising, the Upfront is the decades-old practice of buying and selling TV advertising time months in advance. Traditionally, these deals have taken place in the spring of each year, involving ad spots that would air in the coming television broadcast year." - Src: SimulMedia So yesterday Max was pushing for people to buy ads with them and as you can imagine, OFMD Twitter was not having it. I'm just including a few screenshots. Thank you to @neverleftpod and @singletureen on twitter for the polite menacing and capture of the WBD stocks not getting any better.

= June 3: Dont Stream On Max =

Adopt Our Crew is announcing June 3rd "An Excellent Day" to be another great day to push #DontStreamOnMax! (Just so happens to be that's the day that Stede plundered the infamous plant!) Thanks for continuing to fight the good fight @adoptourcrew!

Source: AdoptOurCrew Twitter

**More Under the Cut**

= Petition =

Hey all, we are getting surprisingly close to 89K on the petition... I know there are some newer folks to the fandom that have joined recently, would any of you be kind enough to sign it? I realize we're not sure how much it's helping at this point, but 89K would be a nice round number in case it does help David and the cast somehow :) Petition Link

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

@melvisik I'm always impressed how you can track down all these cast members! I'm going to include your note since I realize it's less easy with Nancy Lantis below as it was a quick shot: "Tonight is a wealthy woman from the party boat, doomed for daring to insult the future husband of the Gentleman Pirate. I think she's the one giving Ed that devilish grin when Gabriel calls him 'Fascinating' and helps him to his feet"

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

== Because The Night FanZine ==

The new NSFW Gentlebeard Zine "Because the Night" opened preorders today! They'll be open until June 15th, and you can learn more on their post below!

== Mermay ==

More Mermay! We're half way through the month! I would love to bring some other artists in too, I've been trying to reach out on socials to see if anyone would like their submissions included but haven't heard back a whole lot-- if you're interested please shoot me a dm!

= erostheartist =

Day 9: Revenge / Day #12: Moonglow

= Hannah's Handmade Magic =

Day 12: Moonglow

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by hannahs_handmade_magic (@hannahs_handmade_magic)

instagram

Source: Hannah's Handmade Magic on Instagram

= Snejpowa =

Day 13: Roads To Moscow / Day 14: Orange / Day 15: Blind Man's Cove

= Blueberreads =

Day 14: Orange / Day 15: Blind Man's Cove

== Love Notes ==

Can I just say I love being weird? What is "normal" anyway? Normal can be weirdness, normal can be social norms, normal is based entirely on who's perspective you're talking about.

I have been "weird" my whole life and I love being weird! All it means is we're different than what people originally expected, and you know what?

That's fucking awesome!

It makes us unique and it's so nice to be a member of a community of other weirdos (said affectionately, I actually think it's a compliment).

Your weirdness is amazing, and I adore every inch of you for it!

Shine on weirdos! You got today and you're gonna kick it's ass!

Source: KatieAbey's Instagram

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Just really feeling in the mood for some Hunt For the Wilder People today.

Gif's courtesy of the ever lovely @bizarrelittlemew and @transjudas!

#Instagram #ofmd daily recap #taika waititi #rhys darby #the cryptid factor #ofmd mermay 2024 #our flag means death #ofmd #dont stream on max #petition #save ofmd #sofmd #adopt our crew #long live ofmd

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rilakeila · 1 year

Note

helloo! may i request draco being jealous in result of him confessing to his crush? (thank you!)

and there that goes, where draco needs to get his feelings for you off his chest

word count 1.8k fandom harry potter pairing draco malfoy x nonslytherin!fem!reader warnings mentions of vomitting author's note i think it's a little ooc but i also used hbp dracoish, not really, it just steers away from the war and more normal experience of going thru school, and it's terrible

another au it can be a standalone but i mean it can connect to the storyline of well so that settles it with theo; i think the story focuses more of draco's feelings and thoughts opposed to (y/n); poorly written but i wanted to write something to escape my never ending exams

FUMES practically were seen from draco’s head as he watched across the courtyard. little attention was paid to lorenzo’s endless chattering and regular bickering between blaise and pansy. he was rather peeved that his crush was walking around with what he thought was his best friend. the hot aura was practically heating the area, making it recognizable that draco was bothered by something. more so, his lack of comments to the quarreling duo that alerted his friends.

“malfoy, what’s gotten into you?” blaise questioned as he wacked draco’s forehead with his roll of parchment.

draco only shot a glare before crossing his arms, releasing a sigh, “nothing.”

“sure, maybe, i couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been staring at theodore and (y/n) for the last few minutes,” the tease in enzo’s tone only made draco continue to glare, not like that expression of his left anyways recently. stress had definitely found peace in his entirety, more evident on his face. everyone searched across the courtyard, looking for the said duo, who were currently conversing and pointing at certain life components in the environment as they walked in a slow pace. more so, (y/n) pointing and theodore intently listening as he walked alongside her.

“quiet, they only caught my attention,” draco said, only that he has been paying attention for some time now.

“it’s alright, draco, everyone knows you have a little crush on (y/n). it’s not like everyone sees you walking to her class every single time, practically a dog around its owner when you’re around her,” pansy snorted.

“you got it wrong, pansy. it’s not a little crush, it’s a massive one,” enzo fluffed draco’s hair, who swatted his hands away.

“mate, just confess it already. it’s better to know if she likes you now or at least get it off your chest. ask her to our house’s dance,” blaise suggested, going back to his quidditch play notes.

“it’s none of your concerns with what i should do with my feelings for her, or for anyone in that matter,” draco kept slapping away enzo’s hands who kept trying to ruffle up his hair.

“feelings for who?”

the final swatting from enzo landed on draco before continuing his annoyance with blaise, who just took a hand to his face. theodore and (y/n) finally came upon to the group, the former shrugging his bag off and taking a seat next to draco.

“how was your little walk around the courtyard?” enzo questioned, practically egging on draco’s jealousy.

“oh, we were just walking around, discussing about potions and how it’s been dreadful studying the ingredients,” (y/n) held a small piece of parchment containing her cheat sheet of ingredients before placing it into her notebook, acting as a placeholder for where she was in her notes.

“really? can i borrow that?” enzo hopped over to where she was sitting, peering over her shoulder to look at her open notebook. draco was unsure if he was being genuine or continuing to pester him about his crush, but there was one thing he knew that enzo will always succeed in his plans of whatever it may be.

“you’re invading her personal space, enzo,” theodore said, not even looking up from his book.

draco practically side-eyed both males, minimal eye twitching and the clenched jaw once he looked at theo.

“(y/n) never minds that i’m always this close, what are you, her boyfriend?” the singy-songy tone in boyfriend drove a knife to the wall for draco.

if it wasn’t for (y/n) being there and her presence entirely making him freeze up, draco was sure that he would have already thrown a hex, instead he just watched silently. though, he did feel eyes, and it was theodore. the eye contact thrown draco off, but there was something off that he knew theodore was hiding or knew something. so, draco decided to pivot.

“theodore, a boyfriend? a preposterous thought, seeing that his sullenness and lankiness frightens everyone,” draco dragged his looks, but he was aware that many girls fond over theodore’s height and mysterious demeanor, some even enjoy his straightforwardness or even how unattainable he is.

theodore did not comment, just a small laugh and smirk displayed on his face.

“and you’re just going to take that, theodore?” enzo continued to instigate the matter, and draco wasn’t sure where the plan was going, but he was sure that he wasn’t going to cave into the pressure.

“leave it, enzo, theodore and draco know too many spells and potion ingredients that would severely leave you in madam pomfrey’s care for a week,” (y/n) laughed, handing him a similar parchment to the one she previously held up. he hummed, agreeing to that statement, not wanting to go through the wrath after theodore slipped a tiny drop in enzo's drink that caused him to vomit at a certain time every day because he felt the need to taunt the taller male about vomiting at a quidditch game after a beater hit him in the stomach.

draco just looked around the group, rising tension between him and the male next to him, blaise continuing to delve into his quidditch game plans, pansy being pansy, while enzo and (y/n) chatted as they usually do when everyone was silent and doing their own thing. his actions and words were limited, not wanting to make something too obvious otherwise he was going to out himself.

“say, (y/n), do you think you would want to be my date to the slytherin dance?” there enzo goes again with that teasing tone, always up to no good.

“i thought you asked that girl from ravenclaw.”

“yeah, you’re right, the more the merrier. anyone else wants to take (y/n)?”

“i’m going with luna,” blaise answered.

“i’ll take her,” theodore and draco responded at the same time.

(y/n) snorted, “wow, guys, you don’t have to fight over me.” once she looked up at the two having a stare down, practically mirroring each other as they collected their stuff.

draco released a breath, one that he had been holding in for quite some time now, “it is your decision, i am sure that you’ll find someone of your liking to take you.” he knew that she didn’t particularly enjoy when people made decisions for her. the smile she returned made him still, and he knew it was the small things that mattered most to her. and he was sure that in no way, that whatever theodore was planning would never get to him.

“damn, mate, it’s been a week since that group hangout, and one week until the dance. you either have to tell her soon or ask enzo for a crazy plan to figure out how to tell her. what happened to walking her to class everyday. you look crazy with those eyes,” blaise said with annoyance.

“well, you try telling luna that you actually are in love with her and come back to me tomorrow,” draco shot back, knowing that blaise was scared of the commitment and that a random hufflepuff also shared feelings for her. silence was all that was left, enough for blaise to leave the main area of the dormitory.

draco surely felt mad, when thinking what he thought was his friend to be dating his crush. she was free to date whoever she wanted, yet it still played with draco’s insides, even messed with his occlumency, which he found out when snape hinted at his thoughts a couple of times.

“wow, you look stress than usual, finally scared blaise off, and that’s pretty hard to do when it comes to you,” enzo plopped next to him on the couch, biting a piece of his apple.

“berkshire, you’re the last person i need to be bothering me,” draco waved him off, going back to studying his notes.

“well, i don’t know if this would help, but i just left (y/n) studying at her favorite place and nott is helping slughorn with a potion. if you have a chance, it’s now, but if i’m still bothering you, don’t mind me taking a nap. mind you, she’s a little peeved that you stopped walking her to class,” enzo waved a spell to rid of the apple core before sprawling himself onto the couch, almost hitting draco in the face.

“is there something that i need to know about nott and (y/n)?” draco mumbled, knowing that enzo may answer.

“nothing, just that he has an idea to ask her to the dance, probably took my teasing a little too far, and, well, that’s all i know,” enzo answered, but draco wasn’t going to try to pry the additional information out of him. a rush of adrenaline spiked through draco for an unapparent reason, just felt like he needed to go to her. he motioned his hands to collect his papers and place it into his bag and left where (y/n) enjoyed best.

“hmph, now i’m torn, nott or malfoy,” enzo said as he placed draco’s open potions book on his face.

there she was, sitting under a certain tree near the lake. draco knew during the spring time when the weather was just right, she would just dangle her legs above the waters. she always wanted to swim like for some other students, but just between her and draco, her ability to swim was lacking.

he watched her turn around, sending him a small wave before resuming her assignment. he was not sure if he was walking slower or faster with every step he took. and there was no way that he would turn back, knowing the possibility of her nagging him for leaving without a verbal hello. that would be better, right? he would still talk to her.

with every step he took, there was a game if she loves me or loves me not. maybe, she loves nott. the alternating made his heart race everytime it was the opposite of what his feelings hoped for. additionally, the frequency of those two hanging out had grown in the last month, and it made him feel terrible. from what had been hanging out at this lake and walking her to class turned into nott hanging out with her constantly, it bothered him.

“wow, you’re actually here, haven’t spoken to you in little over a week now,” (y/n) mentioned how he didn’t really speak to her during last week’s group hangout for the exception of saying he’ll take her to the ball. if he beats around the bush around any longer, he might actually hex himself.

“well, that’s why i’m here, there’s something i need to talk to you about,” that sentence made (y/n) raise her eyebrows.

“what abou-“

“i want to take you out to the dance, because i need you to know that i have feelings for you.”

and there that goes, even with a pair of eyes watching from afar.

likes and reblogs are

appreciated if you enjoyed

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy fic #hp fanfic #rilakeila slytherin <3

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decepti-thots · 9 months

Note

would you be down to give me a rough outline of how Prowl has been characterized over the publication history of the tf comics? I mean, in as far as you know about it. Every time you mention the costa stuff it makes me curious

I can try! I can't really drill down well without a thing to focus on specifically, but here are some general highlights.

Furman (and stuff that directly draws from Furman's run, like AHM as a whole) characterizes him basically as he did when writing Marvel G1, and gives him so little to do that not very much really comes out even then. Uptight, stick-in-his-ass, still a basically Good Guy TM and while he puts people's backs up a little, he's not under any level of suspicion. This is the closest to continuity-agnostic "fanon Prowl" you get in IDW, because that fanon figure draws quite a lot on the Marvel G1 characterization (when it isn't simply making things up wholesale, anyway). Furman copies his own homework, basically, lmao.

Roche is the guy who wrote phase two Prowl into existence as we know him. Rather infamously because he thought it was an interesting take on the character to er, ignore all the above stuff and make the Autobot SIC a rat bastard, lmao. Roche and Barber's interpretations came to dominate the character in IDW going forward, but they do differ. Roche's Prowl is more isolated from other characters (one does not really imagine Wreckers Prowl calling Bumblebee his best friend sincerely, as exRiD Prowl does), and people treat him as disliked by default. Even before the worst of what he does comes out, his reputation precedes him. Also, Roche's Prowl speaks fairly neutrally, whereas exRiD Prowl speaks more casually than fandom tends to admit to! Finally, Roche's Prowl is less spontaneously, outwardly emotional than Barber's is later on, and tends to fit the fanon stereotype of "always restrained" more.

Costa came in post-AHM but pre-Wreckers and hated all that, so he retconned it. LMAO. His Prowl is the archetype of the "good cop" protagonist surrounded by corruption, combined with surface level noir tropes that sort of work in tandem with those but lacking any grit. (Costa seems to understand what noir looks and sounds like, but none of the underlying narrative devices that make it function as noir.) This Prowl is specifically supposed to be (here's the retcon) someone who used to be more deliberately cold, removed and logical but who has specifically decided to change to be different following his experiences on Earth. (Spotlight: Prowl is a good one-issue explanation of Costa's perspective on Prowl, which is not the same as being a good comic.) As time goes on, the sheer unpopularity of this take pushed Costa to undo it a bit, and reintroduce some level of ambivalence to him... but by and large he remains kind of the "good authority figure who objects when the systems are misused" type, almost? His conflict with Spike is very much over the fact he expected better of Spike, see.

Barber's Prowl notably does not wholly throw the Costa stuff out the window. (This is why the Spike stuff features a lot; it's really the only strong emotional hook Costa's work gives you for his version of the character to grab at.) But Prowl is back to being a morally gray figure whose moral ambivalence is very strongly tied to his role as an authority figure- and that's worth mentioning. Prowl's downward spiral being intrinsically linked to his refusal to relinquish authority, and his abuse of it, is something that is all Barber and not Roche. (In Wreckers, Prowl is an asshole because of personal arrogance. In exRiD, he's more an asshole because of his role enabling a wider system, by the end. IMO that's a big difference, anyway.) He is not starting off exRiD loathed by absolutely everyone, or a figure of preexisting serious mistrust. That's something that develops over the course of the comic as things come to light for the characters in-universe, meaning exRiD Prowl feels like he's put up a more convincing shield in front of his worse dealings over the course of the war, perhaps. His position deteriorates significantly over the comic. He is more prone to balancing his deliberate cold-heartedness with angry or emotional outbursts than we saw in Wreckers, leading to him having multiple outbursts that worsen his situation over the course of the comic. This is the Prowl who holds grudges.

Roberts' Prowl is kind of different to talk about to the above because his Prowl in Shadowplay and his Prowl in Titans Return are different genres. I can do a post on that if folks really want but it probably is its own post, haha.

IDK feel free to clarify any specific stuff you'd like a vibe on if you want, this is all just what came to my mind instinctively!

#idw*2 is a mess and i would need to reread to criticise it properly.#dw is just Marvel Again but with the inexplicable stranglehold praxus has on fanon forever added

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malereader-inserts · 2 years

Text

Forget Me

Fandom: Harry Potter Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Male!Reader Summary: To the one who got away Word Count: 584

"Get over it, Draco, he's forgotten about you!"

That stabbed Draco in the heart, he wasn't prepared to hear those words from his friends. He knows it's true, as he looks over at you with your friends and he can tell that you have completely erased your history with him.

Days ache and nights are long, two years and still you're not gone. He guesses that he's still holding on. He feels pathetic, he doesn't understand why he couldn't let you go and the memories of you. It's the last thing he has of you. Happy, caring memories that he holds dear to his heart.

He still thinks of you as an angel sent from the above, even if you did the most heinous crime - he would love you all the same.

"I can't," He mumbles out to his friends, who sigh at him, "It's (y/n)."

"Did you forget what happened when you broke up? He wished you death! Said you did everything wrong and the words he said? God, they were absolutely vile."

"He's not perfect nor am I, Theo, I said stuff that was just as bad as him."

Theo rolled his eyes, not knowing what was so enchanting about you. No one in Draco's friend group really understands the attraction to you, especially the argument after the two of you broke up, which occurred in front of the whole school during the evening meal.

"It's been two years, Draco," Blaise patted his friend on the shoulder, "You have to move on."

Draco sighed because he was not ready to find out you know how to forget him. He'd rather hear how much you regret him and pray to God that you never met him than forget him.

"I mean, you made him cry," Theo snorted when he reminded Draco, who glared at him, "Hey, it was your actions, not mine."

"Are we seriously talking about (Y/n), again?" Pansy asked, walking up to the table, and joining her friend for dinner, "This is such a monthly occurrence, can we not?"

"Try convincing sad boy here, he's huffing and sighing wistfully as he longly stares at (Y/n)," Blaise teased, as the glare was now directed to him.

"It's getting pathetic."

"I am aware of that!" Draco snaps, before stabbing his food, "When you get your heart broken don't come running to me when you're feeling like I am now."

They leave Draco be, as he looks down at his plate, he's lost his appetite. He wants to pull his head up to look over at you, but he can't. He can't be caught staring at you by you, that was just embarrassing. He huffed slightly, playing with his food.

It was so stupid to him, he knows exactly it's been two years since you were his, and he just can't get over it. Perhaps it was because you were truly his first love, the person who looked past all his flaws and loved him all the same.

But, now, when he sees you, you're happily conversing with your friends in your house. You look so much happier without him, looking so carefree, it makes him wonder if he was dragging you down in the relationship.

He wishes he could rewind him, make everything better, do stuff differently and maybe you would still be his boyfriend. There's no hope now, anyway, you'll continue with your life without a thought of him and he will always remember the lover that got away.

#draco malfoy x male reader #draco malfoy imagine #x male reader #draco malfoy

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cha-melodius · 9 months

Note

oh man, okay, so, firstprince, Harrod's food hall

(In which I take Henry's canonical skill at recommending cheese to its logical extreme. This got longer than I intended because I kept waxing rhapsodical about cheese [only half joking]. I hope it lives up to your wildest dreams!)

chamel’s fandom fest info | read all the fics

Will You Brie Mine?

(firstprince, 5.8k, T; read it below or on AO3)

“Ah, Alex,” he says with a soft, fond smile curving his lips and crinkles at the corners of his blue eyes, like he’s pleased to see him.

Alex pointedly ignores the way that something in his stomach swoops.

“We have a new Manchego in this week that I think you’ll love,” Henry continues.

Right. Henry’s pleased to see him because Alex is his best customer. Alex assumes so, anyway. Surely no one else buys this much cheese on a weekly basis.

He hadn’t meant to start this little routine. June had been telling him since he moved to London that he had to go to Harrods and visit the food hall, so he’d gone just to be able to shut her up about it. And sure, it’d been reasonably impressive and he’d gotten some tasty stuff out of the trip, but he probably wouldn’t have been back if he hadn’t wandered by the cheese counter and caught sight of the most beautiful man he’s ever seen standing behind it. Alex hadn’t really spent much time contemplating his sexuality until he was suddenly confronted with floppy golden hair, ridiculously full lips, the finest cheekbones he’s ever seen, and broad shoulders only emphasized by the contrast of the green apron tied snugly around his narrow waist.

(It had still taken him several weeks of visits to the cheese counter before he realized why he was so drawn there, and a few more to come to terms with the fact that he really, really wanted to kiss the man behind it.)

Unfortunately, he’d been caught staring and had to play it off like he was particularly interested in cheese. He likes cheese, don’t get him wrong, but he never really thought too hard about it. Now he’s in pretty much every week to see Henry and has learned more about cheddar and brie and gruyere than he ever wanted to know. His fridge is always full. He brings cheese plates to pretty much every gathering he’s invited to. It’s kind of becoming a problem.

He hasn’t stopped visiting, though.

Today, as Henry tells him all about the Manchego, Alex tries his best to listen and not fixate on the mole next to the corner of Henry’s mouth or the way his shoulders strain the seams of his white uniform shirt. It’s not a particularly easy task for him, in all honesty.

“Would you care for a sample?” Henry asks, as if Alex has ever said no to him.

“I’d love one,” Alex tells him instead of saying I’d like to sample you.

The Manchego is quite good. Alex buys a chunk and takes it home, along with a baguette and a bottle of wine that Henry recommended to go along with it, then stands in front of his refrigerator and contemplates how absurdly pathetic he is.

Maybe he should make fondue for dinner.

~~~~~

“I don’t get why you don’t just ask him out?” Nora says as they weave their way through the various food hall areas. They’ve already purchased several pastries and a pile of chocolates, though Alex wouldn’t let them visit the wine shop until they’d seen Henry.

If Alex had his druthers they wouldn’t be here at all, but Nora is visiting for a job interview and pretty much demanded that Alex take her to see ‘the hot cheesemonger’ that he’s been talking constantly about for the last six months. (He hasn’t. She’s grossly exaggerating.)

“He’s in the service industry, Nora,” Alex argues. “Being hit on by customers is the worst. You get put on the spot and you have to smile and act all polite while you’re trapped because you’re at your job? I’m not going to do that to him.”

She pops a chocolate truffle into her mouth and chews thoughtfully. “Mm. You could casually ask when his shift ends and bump into him.”

Alex shoots an exasperated look her way. “That’s not better.”

“Oh, but accumulating the world’s finest collection of cheese in your one-bedroom apartment just so you can see him is a completely reasonable course of action.”

That, he doesn’t deign to dignify with an answer. Anyway, they’re nearing the cheese counter, which means they’re definitely done discussing this. He spots Henry immediately, looking unfairly adorable in his little green hat as he helps an elderly lady pick out some munster, and browses the display cases behind the counter as they wait. The fact that the other employee at the cheese counter doesn’t even bother trying to help him probably says something.

Eventually Henry finishes and turns toward them, though his smile falters slightly when he sees Nora. Weird. Probably Alex is just imagining things, because a moment later it’s back to normal.

“Hullo Alex,” he says, and Alex’s stomach does that swoopy thing at his name on Henry’s tongue, same as it does every week. “You’re early this week.”

Alex ignores the pointed look that he can feel Nora giving him. “Nora is visiting and wanted the ‘whole experience’,” he explains, gesturing with a sideways nod of his head toward her. “We’ve already hit the bakery and chocolate shop. Saved the best for last.”

Henry’s smile widens, and he ducks his head slightly before he looks back up. “Not actually last, though.”

“I mean, obviously Eric over at the wine shop is the best.”

“Of course,” Henry says solemnly. “Good to know where I stand.”

“You know me, always here to put you in your place,” Alex returns. Next to him, Nora loudly clears her throat and gives him a pointed look, and he has to bite back the too-revealing grinning on his face. “Right. Nora, this is Henry. Henry, Nora.”

“Hi,” she says, smiling in a way that makes Alex nervous. “Pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Nora.”

Henry looks bemused by this information, his eyebrows arcing skyward as he glances over at Alex. “Really?”

“Ignore her,” Alex tells him.

“I’ve heard a lot about your cheese, then,” she revises, eyes sparkling with pure mischief.

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Alex says. He can feel his fucking cheeks getting hot and prays it’s not noticeable. “Whatcha got this week?”

“Ah, a new one arrived that I think you’ll get a kick out of. Tête de Moine.”

Alex furrows his brow. “Tête…”

“… de Moine,” Henry repeats. “It means ‘monk’s head’.”

“Of course it does.”

Henry huffs a soft laugh. “It’s from Switzerland. This one’s aged four months, and it’s very full-bodied, with an earthy nuttiness to it. The real trick is in the serving though.”

“Oh?” Alex prompts. He has to admit, he could fucking listen to Henry talk about cheese all day. It’s not really the cheese, though; it’s how passionate and animated he gets, sometimes downright rapturous. It’s the spark in his eye and the confidence with which he speaks and the sheer depth of his knowledge.

Behind the counter, Henry holds up a finger to indicate they should wait a moment, then sets about retrieving a small wheel of cheese already set up on some kind of circular contraption. There’s a post sticking through the center of the wheel with a small blade radiating out toward the edge, which has a handle that Henry grabs. In one slow, smooth motion, he spins the blade around the top of the cheese wheel, and a delicate little rosette of cheese appears. Then he pinches it carefully by the base and holds it out over the counter toward Alex. It looks for all the world like he’s handing Alex a flower.

“Like this, it melts in your mouth,” Henry says, and Alex barely manages to avoid swallowing his tongue.

Their fingers brush as Alex takes the little cheese rosette from him, and Alex feels a little frisson of electricity even though Henry’s wearing gloves. Henry watches him expectantly as he sticks the whole damned thing in his mouth—because what else is he going to do with it?—and oh. Wow, that’s really something. It does melt in his mouth and it’s a little funky but not too much?

Henry’s cheese recommendations truly never miss.

“That’s fucking amazing,” he says once he’s finally swallowed it. “And it has to be served like that?”

“The only way to eat it,” Henry confirms. Then he turns his smile toward Nora. “Would you like to try it?”

“Sure,” Nora agrees, and as soon as Henry’s attention is diverted toward the cheese again she kicks Alex in the shin.

He gives her a what the fuck was that? look, and she in turn replies with some significant eyebrow raising and head tilting toward Henry, like he’s supposed to know what she’s on about. A moment later, she schools her expression back to normal as Henry reaches out to hand her a rosette, which she polishes off in about two seconds flat.

“Yeah, it’s good,” she says in her typical understated manner.

Whatever. Alex knows an exceptional cheese when he eats it. “So how do you sell it, then?” he asks Henry.

“Well, you can buy the whole wheel and the girolle to go with it, but I assume you’re not particularly interested in acquiring specialized cheese equipment,” Henry says. Honestly, Alex would probably let himself be talked into it, if Henry was doing the talking. This is definitely becoming a problem. “But I can shave you a collection of rosettes if you think you’ll eat them within a day or two.”

“A bouquet, then?” Alex jokes.

Henry’s cheeks go slightly pink, and Nora kicks him again. Alex ignores her.

“I suppose so,” Henry says.

“All right then. And the wine?”

“A full-bodied variety, like Bordeaux or Côtes du Rhône.”

“Perfect,” Alex says. “I have one at home, so I won’t even need to visit Eric.”

Henry’s lips quirk upward. “A shame to miss out on the best stop.”

“Did I, though?” Alex asks, scrunching up the side of his face in fake thoughtfulness.

It makes Henry laugh, which is pretty much everything.

He can’t even be annoyed that Henry pretty much ignores him to ask Nora about her visit as he works on the rosettes. Then he catches himself thinking that it’s kind of sweet that Henry’s making sure she’s included, before realizing that it’s his job to chat with the customers.

Jesus, Alex is hopeless.

“He’s nice,” Nora says once they’re done and have walked far enough away. Alex wasn’t looking for her approval, especially since probably nothing will ever happen, but still. He trusts her judgment. It feels good. “Also he totally wants to dick you down.”

“Nora,” Alex hisses, eyes going wide as he looks around to make sure no one heard her.

“And you obviously want him to, so.”

“How could you possibly know that after ten minutes?”

“Besides the fact that the entire time it looked like you wanted to eat him instead of the cheese?”

Alex huffs in frustration. “I meant about what he wants.”

Nora stops walking in the middle of an aisle between counters, and Alex drags her to the side so they don’t get mowed down. “Alejandro. Babe,” she says flatly. “The look on his face as he watched you eat that cheese was nothing short of pornographic.”

“You’re imagining things,” Alex scoffs.

“He. Wants. You,” she repeats firmly. “Ask him out. He’s not gonna say no, I promise. Ninety-six percent.”

Alex bites his lip. “Ninety-six?”

~~~~~

Nora’s numbers should be reassuring. Instead, Alex is freaking out. Ok, maybe he wants Henry, and maybe Henry wants him, but he’s never dated a dude before. He’s done precisely nothing with his bisexual revelation, partly because he’s always swamped with work and partly because he doesn’t want to go hook up with random guys. It’s not like he hasn’t kissed a guy before; he flat out made out with Liam back in high school, and it was nice but he still managed to come out of it thinking he was straight, so. That doesn’t inspire much confidence. The idea of kissing another man now makes him weirdly nervous because if he does and if the same thing happens—worse, if he kisses Henry and it doesn’t do anything for him—then he loses all of this. He likes what they have now. He still doesn’t know a lot of people in London outside his office. As ridiculous as it sounds, the cheese counter feels like a lifeline he can’t afford to let go of.

It’s probably better if they just stay friends. Acquaintances. Whatever the fuck they are.

Anyway, Nora is probably wrong. She couldn’t possibly be that certain after watching them interact for ten minutes. He holds firm to this (misguided) belief right up until he makes his weekly trip to Harrods and Henry positively lights up when he sees Alex approaching.

“Oh good, you’re here,” Henry says, not even bothering with a greeting as he immediately goes into the case to fetch something.

“Hello to you too,” Alex says with a lopsided smile.

“Yes, hello,” Henry huffs, “now come here and close your eyes.”

What.

Henry’s not even looking at him, he’s too focused on the cheese in front of him, and Alex has no fucking clue what to make of any of it.

“Uh, Henry? Is this some kind of new thing y’all are doing?”

Henry smirks at him. “Only for mouthy Americans. Are you coming?”

Jesus’ tits. Alex looks around, but not a single person in the bustling food hall is paying attention to them. Henry appears to be by himself at the counter today. With a deep breath, Alex braces himself for whatever’s about to happen and steps up closer to the counter.

“Now close your eyes and open your mouth,” Henry tells him, which is more or less what he expected, but still. Those words, in that voice. It’s a fucking lot.

“Henry, what—”

“Come on, after all this time, don’t you trust me?” Henry teases.

Well, when he puts it like that.

So Alex closes his eyes and opens his mouth, and a moment later a small morsel of cheese is deposited on his tongue—via toothpick, he realizes as he closes his lips around it, and not Henry’s fingers. Thank god, honestly. Fortunately, the flavor of the cheese completely distracts him from how insane all of this is, because wow. It’s hard and a bit crumbly, salty with a tang and kick of smoky, fruity spice that builds on his tongue. There are peppers involved, chiles like he has rarely tasted since he moved here, and the flavor of them just about punch him in the gut with the flavor of home.

He opens his eyes and finds Henry watching him raptly. That’s a lot, too.

“It’s unbelievable,” Alex says honestly. “What is it?”

“Queso de cincho enchilado,” Henry answers, with passable Spanish pronunciation. “Imported specially from Guerrero.”

“What?”

“I did some research and found out one of our suppliers had a contact in Mexico,” Henry explains. “And, well, you’re always complaining how it’s nearly impossible to get Mexican ingredients here, so I thought you might like it.”

Alex’s throat feels like it’s closing up around the emotion that’s trying to choke him. “You ordered it… for me?”

“If any of our customers deserve a special order, it’s you, Alex,” Henry says, a small, soft smile curving his lips.

“Oh,” Alex says.

His brain is spinning endlessly, like a gear never quite able to make contact with the next one. He needs something to make sense of this. He needs… a list.

1. Henry went out of his way to order something for him. 2. Henry saw a chance to bring Alex something that means something to him and made it happen. 3. Henry chose not just any Mexican cheese, but something special, something he wouldn’t get anywhere else. 4. Henry cares enough to know him.

Fuck.

With a truly heroic effort, he manages to paste on a smile, shoving the rest of it deep down where he will decidedly not inspect it later. “Well, thank you. It’s amazing. Honestly, I don’t know what to say.”

“That has to be a first,” Henry quips, and Alex protests with a ‘Hey!’ and a laugh, because the only other alternative is having a breakdown in Harrods about cheese.

They fall into something like their regular banter after that, and all of this is fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.

It’s totally fine.

~~~~~

The queso de cincho enchilado haunts him. Quite literally, since he bought a large quantity of it and every time he looks in his fridge he’s reminded of what Henry did for him. It feels like a lot. It feels like maybe too much.

Maybe Alex needs to take a step back before he goes spinning out of control and fucks something up, badly.

For the first time in a while, he doesn’t visit the food halls that week, or the next. He’s got a crazy case on his plate at work and can’t afford to spare the time anyway. It’s fine. Henry probably won’t even notice he’s not there.

Then, a couple of days after the day he usually visits, he’s in the middle of a long, brutal run through Hyde Park to try to clear his head when he nearly collides with someone in a wool peacoat and a Burberry scarf.

“Jesus fuck, asshole, watch where you’re—”

Alex cuts off because, when he finally regains his balance and turns toward the person, he looks up into a pair of startlingly familiar blue eyes.

“Alex?”

“Henry,” Alex exhales. He suddenly feels much more out of breath than he did a second ago.

Alex would try to claim that he almost doesn’t recognize him out of his uniform, but that would be a lie. He’d know that face anywhere. Those eyes, those cheekbones, those lips curled into a small, pleased smile. He’s bundled up against the February chill, but he still looks effortlessly put together in a way that makes Alex starkly aware of how sweaty and bedraggled he is in comparison. Alex is so overwhelmed by seeing Henry here, outside the safe realm of the Harrods food hall, that he almost completely misses the beagle sitting, well-behaved, at his feet.

“You’ve got a dog,” he manages. He feels strangely unmoored by the situation.

“That I do,” Henry says with a little chuckle. “This is David.”

Alex doesn’t mean to make a face, but it happens. “Weird name for a dog.”

“It’s after Bowie,” Henry tells him.

“Oh, well. That’s cool.”

A beat of silence stretches between them. Fuck, this is awkward. It’s never this awkward when there’s a case full of cheese between them.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your run,” Henry ventures.

“No, it’s fine. You just surprised me.”

“So you usually berate innocent pedestrians while you’re running, then?”

His teasing surprises a laugh out of Alex. “Fuck off with ‘innocent’, you stepped into my path.”

“Well, yes,” Henry admits. “And I do apologize for that. David was very excited about a squirrel.”

“Oh, blame it on your dog, real smooth,” Alex says, grinning, and Henry laughs. Alex makes a motion toward the beagle. “Can I pet him?”

“I’m sure he’d enjoy that,” Henry says.

Alex squats down in front of David and holds out his hand for him to sniff, which David does and then proceeds to immediately tuck his nose under Alex’s hand and nudge it up onto his head. He’s utterly adorable, and Alex spends several minutes scratching behind his ears and feeling some of the remaining tension bleed out of him—dogs really are magic—before Henry speaks again.

“We missed you at the cheese counter the past couple of weeks,” he says lightly. We, like any of the other employees there care about whether Alex comes in. He’s probably just that weird guy with the cheese addiction to them. He can appreciate why Henry would put it that way, though.

With one last pat, Alex stands again and pushes a hand back through his hair before remembering how gross it is. “Yeah, I got slammed at work,” he says. It’s mostly not a lie. He doesn’t actually need to explain why he wasn’t there, except he feels oddly compelled to. He quirks his lips into a sardonic smile. “Sorry, I know I’m probably a substantial part of your monthly sales quota.”

Henry laughs softly. “You are,” he confirms, a teasing glint in his eye. Then his expression goes more serious. “But that’s not why I was concerned.”

Oh. Henry was worried about him.

“Well, I’ll be back this week,” Alex promises.

“That’s good to hear,” Henry says, and when he smiles his eyes crinkle at the corners. “I should let you go before you catch a chill out here.”

Alex doesn’t want Henry to let him go, although yes, he’s getting really fucking cold in his thin exercise gear now that he’s not moving anymore. He thinks maybe if he wasn’t completely disgusting and exhausted he might ask Henry if he wanted to go get a cup of coffee. Or tea, whatever (he knows, in fact, that Henry’s a tea drinker). It’d be low stakes, friends get coffee all the time, and he could feel things out a bit more. Asking if he wants to get together some other time feels more intentional. Like a date.

They’re not at the shop. Alex could just ask.

“Yeah, ok,” he says instead. “It was good to bump into you, man.”

For some reason Henry’s smile seems to go a little tight at the edges. “It was. I’ll see you soon, Alex.”

~~~~~

It doesn’t occur to Alex until he’s standing in the shower later that he could have asked for Henry’s number at the very least. Now who knows when he might run into Henry again. Maybe he could just haunt Hyde Park during the same time frame and hope that he runs into Henry walking David again. Maybe he should just take Nora’s suggestion to ask him when his shift ends and meet him then.

He’s still contemplating his options when he visits the cheese counter that week. It’s oddly busy for some reason, and he waits a while for Henry to be free. Unfortunately that also means that they’re not going to have as much time as usual to chat, which is quite honestly the whole reason he visits. He’s just wondering if maybe he should come back later when Henry appears in front of him, clearly tired and worn around the edges but no less beautiful for it.

“You guys are hoppin’ today,” Alex says, glancing around.

“Yes, well, lots of romantic cheese plates to sell, I suppose,” Henry sighs.

Alex frowns in confusion. “What?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow?”

“Right, yeah, I totally remembered that,” Alex says, shaking his head as he bites his lip. “Shows you where my head’s been.”

“I hope for your girlfriend’s sake that that’s not actually true,” Henry points out, and now Alex is confused again.

“Girlfriend?”

Henry frowns back at him. “Nora?”

Alex chokes out a surprised laugh. “Oh, Nora’s not my girlfriend. I mean, we dated a while ago, but now we’re just friends. She’s dating my sister actually.” Henry’s eyebrows shoot up. “Don’t ask. Anyway, that’s why she’s trying to move to London—her and my sister, actually—because June feels a need to watch over me or something, I guess. It’ll be good to have them here, though.”

“Oh. That’s nice,” Henry says. “Sorry for assuming, you just talk about her quite a bit.”

“God, don’t tell her that,” Alex groans.

“So no girlfriend, then?” Henry asks casually, or it would be casual if he weren’t avoiding Alex’s eyes and fidgeting with some kind of cheese.

Alex swallows and licks his lips. “Nope. No boyfriend either. I’ll just be hanging out with James Bond tomorrow, I guess.”

“What?” Henry asks sharply, for reasons that are beyond Alex.

“I dunno, Bond movie marathon sounds like a good way to spend Valentine’s Day alone.”

“Right, of course,” Henry says with a tight smile. No explanation for the weird reaction is forthcoming, so Alex shrugs it off. “Our special cheese this week might be kind of moot, then.”

“Why’s that?” Alex asks.

Henry turns away to grab something, and when he turns back he’s holding up what looks like some kind of heart-shaped brie. “Neufchatel,” he says. “From Normandy.”

“The heart shape seems a little gimmicky for the Harrods cheese counter.”

“Ah, but it’s not actually a gimmick. The shape goes back to the Hundred Years’ War,” Henry explains. “The English occupied the region, and the story goes that the French dairy maids who fell for their occupiers gave them as gifts to the Englishmen.”

“Ok, now it makes sense,” Alex laughs. “Of course y’all would sell something that commemorates the people you tried to conquer falling in love with you.”

“I didn’t say it was an admirable story,” Henry protests, flushing a delightful pink. “It is a wonderful cheese, though.”

“Well?” Alex prompts. “You gonna give me a sample of your occupier cheese?”

Henry laughs and shakes his head, but he cuts Alex off a chunk and passes it over the counter. It actually is delicious, ridiculously creamy and velvety on his tongue. It’s also the kind of cheese that’s probably not something you’re going to eat alone, since he doubts it will keep well after it’s been cut into, but…

Alex has to admit, he’s kind into the symbolism of Henry giving him this particular cheese. Not that Henry is giving it to him, Alex is buying it, not to mention that Henry has probably sold a hundred of these heart-shaped cheeses today, but still.

“Yeah, ok, it’s really good,” Alex says, like it pains him to admit it. “I’ll take one.”

Henry blinks at him. “Really?”

“For my date with James Bond.”

A kind of weird look passes over Henry’s face again, but it’s gone as quickly as it had come. “All right,” he says. “I’ll get that wrapped up for you.”

Alex watches Henry package up the cheese, which means he absolutely sees Henry pick up a pen and write something on the inside of the butcher paper that he wraps around it. But Henry also gives no hint as to what it could be as he hands over the cheese and rings Alex up at the cash register. As expected, he doesn’t really have time to linger; there are more customers waiting to be served, so Alex takes his purchase and heads home, the small package burning a hole in his pocket. He can’t very well unwrap a soft cheese in the middle of the London streets or on the tube or something, so whatever Henry wrote remains a mystery until he gets into his kitchen and nearly tears the paper off.

It’s a phone number. Henry’s phone number.

Alex checks the time, and by now it’s after the food hall counters close. With slightly shaky hands, he types the number into his phone and presses call.

“Hullo?” a familiar voice answers, slightly distorted over the line.

“Henry,” Alex breathes. He just saw Henry less than an hour ago, and yet still the sound of his voice sets every one of Alex’s nerve endings on fire. “Um. It’s Alex.”

“Ah. You got my message, I see.”

“I did,” he confirms. A little puff of disbelieving laughter escapes him. “Leaving your number on the inside of a cheese wrapper? Really?”

Henry laughs softly. “I suppose I got tired of waiting for you to ask me for it.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me for mine?”

“If I did, it would have to be for some kind of special order purposes,” Henry tells him. “And I couldn’t use it for personal reasons. It’s against company policy.”

“Oh,” Alex says. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” He takes a deep breath. “I wanted to.”

“Wanted to what?”

“Ask you. For your number. Or… on a date.”

He hears Henry exhale, and then, with immense fondness, he says, “You certainly took your time.”

“Fuck off,” Alex says automatically. Something thrums under his skin at Henry’s answering laughter. “I didn’t want to fuck it up,” he confesses.

“You didn’t,” Henry says softly. “You won’t.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

“After six months, I think I know you at least that well, Alex.”

And yeah, Henry does.

“So, uh,” Alex starts, not even knowing where he’s headed with this until the words are coming out of his mouth, “Turns out I’ve got this really romantic cheese that probably shouldn’t be eaten alone.”

“I can confirm it’s better shared.” He can hear the smile in Henry’s voice.

“So you could come over, if you wanted. To my place. Tomorrow? I’ll make dinner. Not just cheese.”

“I’d love to,” Henry says, his voice full of something that fills Alex to the brim with warmth. “I can bring wine?”

Shoot. In his rush to get home, Alex forgot about the wine. So really—

“That’s perfect, baby.”

Alex feels the noise Henry makes over the phone in his toes.

~~~~~

Whatever possessed him to make their first date on Valentine’s Day at his own apartment and to volunteer to cook dinner, Alex is sure he doesn’t know. They could have gone for coffee. They could have gone out to dinner a few days later, or something reasonable that didn’t involve Alex fretting over last minute menu plans and laboring over the stove for hours. He considers something from his Mexican wheelhouse before deciding that sourcing ingredients at this point would be nearly impossible, and in the end he takes inspiration from the Neufchatel and goes French. Coq au vin, potatoes, haricot vert, crusty bread that he picks up from the French bakery down the road. For dessert, though, he dips into his precious supply of dried chiles that his abuela sent him and whips up the batter for a spiced chocolate lava cake that will bake while they’re eating dinner.

So, you know. Nothing fancy.

Henry shows up right on time with a bottle of wine to pair with the cheese and another for dinner, which he’d chosen after wheedling tonight’s menu out of Alex via text earlier. He’s utterly stunning in a blue sweater that looks ridiculously soft, and Alex desperately wants to touch it. Or maybe he just desperately wants to touch Henry.

He doesn’t, though. He greets Henry at the door, and they do the slightly awkward dance of knowing this is a date and knowing each other pretty well, but not knowing exactly what they are to each other yet. Are they on hugging terms? Kissing? Alex sidesteps the question entirely by taking the wine from Henry’s hands and leading the way back into the kitchen.

It’s blissfully not awkward after that, though. The conversation flows easily as Alex finishes up the last bits of dinner. They drink wine and eat heart-shaped cheese and Henry drops light touches on Alex’s hip or his arm or his lower back as they maneuver around each other in the small space. He’s suitably impressed by Alex’s cooking and isn’t shy with his praise, which warms Alex to the core.

It is, all in all, probably the best date Alex has ever had, and by the time they retire to the living room couch after dessert he feels like he’s going to vibrate right out of his skin with anticipation. Something of it must show on his face, because Henry gives him a gentle smile that is clearly intended to put him at ease as he relaxes into the couch, his body angled toward Alex and his wine glass dangling loosely from his fingers.

“I’ve had a lovely time tonight,” he says, nudging a knee up against Alex’s.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Alex replies honestly, putting all of it into the smile he returns. “Me too.” Then he pauses, steeling himself, and Henry must sense it because he just waits. “There’s something you should know,” he says eventually. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Done what?”

“Dated a guy.”

Henry’s expression is maddeningly neutral. “But you want to.”

“I didn’t do all of this because I don’t want to kiss you,” Alex retorts. That, at least, brings a pleased smile to Henry’s face. “I just… this isn’t some experiment for me, but some things are going to be a little novel.”

Henry nods and sets his wine glass on the coffee table, then shifts on the couch closer to Alex. He slides one hand onto Alex’s thigh just above the knee, and the other he reaches up to the side of Alex’s face, gently cupping his jaw. “We can take things as slow as you like.”

Alex leans in, inhales the scent of Henry’s cologne. “And if I’m not interested in taking it slow?”

“I can’t say I’d complain,” Henry answers with a soft puff of laughter.

His eyes drop to Henry’s full, wine-stained lips, to the mole at the corner of his mouth, to the other one at the edge of his jaw. They both sway closer, until the tips of their noses nearly brush.

“I have another confession,” Alex says abruptly, and Henry lets out a fondly exasperated sigh as he pulls back again and looks at him expectantly. “I’m not really that into cheese. Or, I wasn’t, I guess. I only really visited to see you.”

“I know,” Henry says, biting back a smile.

“What do you mean, you know?!” Alex demands.

“I mean, it was clear that you didn’t actually know much about cheese, and though you seemed interested, you never really struck me as a connoisseur,” Henry tells him. He takes a deep breath and lets it out again. “That’s why I always hoped, even when I thought you had a girlfriend.”

“Oh,” Alex breathes. “So you wanted me…?”

“Christ, from the first time you stopped at my counter, Alex. Now will you please kiss me—”

Alex leans in and presses his lips to Henry’s, and it’s everything he could have imagined and more. Henry’s lips are plush and soft under his, and he tastes like red wine and chocolate and chiles, and Alex already never wants it to end. Kissing Henry is new in the best way—from the way Henry’s end-of-the-day stubble scratches against his own, to the strong hands in his hair, to the sensation of the hard planes of Henry’s waist under his palms—but at the same time there’s something achingly familiar about it. Like coming home.

The more they kiss, the more he realizes that there’s something else that’s different about this kiss: it feels, unmistakably, like the last first kiss he’s ever going to have.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #firstprince fic #firstprince fanfic #chamel's fandom fest #my fic

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