#Totally Outrageous Fashion

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt. Granny al Ghul

Ra's al Ghul believed that there were no former members of the League of Assassins. Maddie understood that perfectly, but it didn’t make her any more prepared when she saw her father.

"Hey, are you my favorite sweet grandpa?" Danny, who noticed his mother freezing in fear after opening the door, immediately stood in front of her. "Want to hug?"

"It was you again! I know for sure." The head of the league hissed in anger. ''Get out!"

"But this is my house." Her son shrugged his shoulders and smiled in a strange snide way. "Do you want me to show you my room or do you want me to chew a cookie for you? You look totally senile. Even your feet can’t hold you."

Ra's Al Ghul was shaking with rage. "Don’t play dumb, I know you’ve been tinkering with water in my Lazarus pits." "They are part of the nature reserve of the Ghost Zone." Danny was rightly outraged. "Write your name on them even a hundred times, they will not be yours."

"But you’ll get a fine for vandalism. You’re lucky I didn’t report you to the authorities." Danny threatens grandpa with his finger. "But it’s only because we’re family, you know?" Ra's frowns but stops arguing. "Would you like a cup of tea?" Danny’s offering a truce. Ra's sighs. "Well, I wouldn't say no."

~~~~~

"Do you like your drink?" Danny asks, pouring grandpa more green tea with milk. "Disgusting." The head of the League of Assassins answers sincerely. "Good." Danny’s smiling like a gremlin. "Hey, do you want to see an album with photos of baby Danny, Ra's?" asks Jack, who doesn’t notice the tension around. "No." Maddie was sitting there with her eye twitching for the last 40 minutes. "I would like to see a family photo album, Madeline." Ra's, who saw an opportunity to embarrass his insolent grandson, did not want to lose it.

~~~~~

"For the last time, why should I participate in this abomination?" Ra's stared angrily at his grandson pushing him into the classroom.

"Come on, grandpa, you saw my photo from kindergarten with a piss on my pants." Danny looked at him, batting his eyelashes.

Ra's rolled his eyes."And why does it mean I have to join this circus?"

"We’re definitely family now! And I promised Mr. Lancer I will take on Career Day this year anyone but not mom or dad. I’m definitely not gonna call Vlad. So that leaves you." Danny pushed him again.

The guard at the Demon's Head got nervous, but Ra’s hand stopped him. "I did not agree."Grandpa moved one of the swords to Danny’s neck.

Fenton just brushed it off with a frown. "Come on, tell everyone a little bit about your plans for immortality and world domination. Maybe I’ll be interested in being your heir then. I promise to listen carefully!"

~~~~

"The most important thing in educating your minions is control. They must feel an absolute fear of your authority." The inspired Ra's continued his speech after the bell. Lancer was taking notes. Tucker looked at it.

"I don’t like it, guys. I stick to the good old-fashioned disciplinary measures, you know?" Techno geek whispered.

"Well, I’m totally fine with it." Danny, who had noticed that after a fascinating lecture about the most effective tortures Dash was sitting two desks further away from him, showed his grandfather fist with the thumb up.

~~~~

"I changed my mind, I’ll kill him." Danny roared, running around the stadium after his thirtieth lap. What idiot from the school board took his crazy grandfather’s advice about organizing extra fitness classes? Next to him Wes fell to the ground. "Do it, Phantom. Avenge us." The boy wheezed at the last breath. "No distractions, five more laps!" Ra's stood on the field with the hand fan. "This bastar-r-rd." Danny roared furiously. "What? My favorite grandson wants to run another ten? Well, I can’t say no, right, coach?" Demon's Head yelled.

~~~~

"You know, it is really nice to take a vacation sometimes. I feel an unprecedented surge of strength." Ra’s reached out to Mr. Lancer standing next to him. "Would you like to meet for coffee sometime?"

"How about Friday, around 7:00 p.m.?" Mr Lancer looked at his schedule. "No, I’m busy at this time." Ra's sighed with regret. "We have a ritual sacrifice scheduled for six p.m." "You have a great sense of humor, my friend." Mr. Lancer laughed. "Who knew Mr. Fenton had such an intriguing and well-read grandfather. You’re full of surprises, Mr al Ghul." ~~~~ Damian, sitting on the roof of Casper High, lays down his binoculars and sighs. "Yes, mother is right, grandfather finally lost his mind." "Well, I’m glad you noticed too." A voice filled with relief rang very close. "Who’s here?" Damian took out the katana. "Um, boo?" Void’s voice answered.

[rahhhbananas]

IT GIRL ★

- male reader!

- fandom : atsv!

- pair(s) : miles morales x male reader

- warning(s) : not proof-read!

“How long is this going to takee???”

Pavitr whined, he sat on the fire escape stairs, mindlessly fidgeting a rock. Gwen leaning against the bars smiled, “Come on Pav, it’s Y/n. He takes hours and I mean hourssss— To get ready.” Pav groaned at that statement alone, no longer bothered about how long it would take them, but how long it take to get something to eat.

“You talkin ‘bout Y/n, the hell Miles at? ‘Is got a good sense of fashion, but not good enuff to take this long.” Hobie groaned, his own stomach growling, Gwen snorted, her eyes crinkling from how large her smile was “This is only scraping the surface of those two. Once you’ve know them for a year or two, you start to prepare ahead of time.” Gwen reached into her bag, handing the two a bag of chips. “There, that should hold you guys.”

The two thanked their prepared friend, before their attention was draw to the window that had just opened. Miles walked out, he wore a black baggy jeans, a white shirt, and ontop of it navy blue varsity jacket, with white air forces. He smiled, as if he hasn’t been making the entire friend group starve for the past 20 minutes “Miles, my guy!!!”

“Oi! I trademarked that!”

“What?”

“I’m surprised you did anything involved being in the same room as a government official.”

“Yeah, ‘ve gotten real desperate after the last situation with Pav.”

“That wasn’t my faulttt!”

“What situation?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“Okay..ignoring that totally normal..conversation, where’s Y/n? He’s glamorous and all, but taking this long? Is outrageous.” Gwen asked, sneaking a chip from Hobie’s bag.

“I’M HERE!! ★”

The group looked up, seeing Y/n on the set of stairs above them. He wore a cropped pink jacket, baggy jeans, white air forces, and on his back was a hello kitty backpack “So, where we feeling? Chinese, Pizza, BBQ? Oh, or Ice cream!” He rambled, not noticing the few irritated looks he got from his friends. “ANYTHING!” Pav screamed, using his hands to cover his face, “Anything, please.” Miles smiled, leading the group down the street, they chatted still deciding on their snacking spot.

“Oh! That cat café!” Gwen suggested, her eyes lite up at the thought of being surrounded by cute animals while enjoying a meal.

“Nah, ‘m allergic to cats.”

“And you care about your health for once? Shocking.”

“You don’t get it, bruv. My eyes swell so much I start thinking I’m in a kaleidoscope..”

“How does that even work?”

“We traveled through universes to get here, and that’s what you wanna ask?”

“Why don’t you say that louder, Pav? Maybe some crazy scientist will hear and try to kill us.”

“That’s so outta pocket.”

“lol.”

“Wow.”

“I have never heard someone say ‘lol’ in real life..that’s so— icky.”

“Pheww, good job, Gwen. Y/n has a new ‘ick’. Bravo.”

The group walked into the restaurant. It seemed to be based off the heros of Brooklyn, “Ugh, why’d we have to come to your restaurant?” Pav groaned. Hobie snorted, picking at the small figures of Spiderman, Miles’ black and red suit somehow blending with the restaurant aesthetic— he even noticed a few figures of the original hero, his merchandise in a corner that formed a sort of mural. The cashier took their orders, before they sat down at a booth near to the window.

“Do they have some of my merchandise!?!” Y/n looked around, his eyes searching the brick walls for some bit of pink. He sighed, giving up, slumping down in his seat, “Hey look, I think I saw some pink over there!” Hobie pointed, Y/n blinded by joy looked at where the teen was pointing to see a piece of chewed up bubble gum stucked to the floor, “…Why do I feel like we have issues, no matter the universe.”

“Hey, the people want what they want. And it’s clearly not you.”

“Wow, no consistency, or manners. Red flag there, Hobie.”

“Yikes.” Pavitr mumbled, sipping from his drink. Hobie however shook it off, relaxing more into his position. Miles took out his phone, snapping a few pics of the group waiting on their food, before the waiter arrived, handing out the dishes efficiently.

AN HOUR LATER!! ★

“Man, I am stuffed!” Hobie cackled, getting up from his seat. Gwen rolled her eyes, before looking at Y/n, he took his card and receipt back from the waiter. Joining his friends at the exit, the sun was starting to go down. “Damn, sundown already?” Hobie looked at his watch, noticing how late it truly was. Gwen laughed, “We left pretty late, because of two certain people.” Gwen jerked her head towards Y/n and Miles who were mindlessly talking about something while holding hands, the way they childishly would swing them every once and then looked somewhat endearing.

“We should head back to our universes though. Miguel set a curfew for a reason.”

“Or, we could brea-“

“Nope, the guy looked like he wanted to blow a vein last time I saw him. And I’m not looking to get chased on all fours, likes Miles.”

“Oh, come on! He wouldn’t catch us!”

“Hobart, no. We’re leaving.”

“Miguel not catching us? Hobie you are HILARIOUS!”

Gwen grabbed Hobie’s wrist, who although didn’t oppose the gesture physically, he looked to be doing it mentally “You’re lucky ‘m tired, Gwendy.” Gwen rolled her eyes, before throwing the lanky teen into the portal, waving goodbye to the two. Pavitr jumped through as well, shooting finger-guns at Miles before falling into the colorful abyss.

Miles smiled, wrapping his arms around Y/n’s shoulder. Making their route to his apartment. The couple chatted on their way home, talking about nothing important, but what’d they do when they got outta highschool, you know, the norm. Until they arrived at Y/n’s apartments, Miles walked him to the stairs, his eyes focused on Y/n’s each move.

“Thanks for buying our food today, especially with how Hobie and Pavitr ate. I’ll find a way to pay you back…” Miles mumbled, scratching the nape of his neck. Y/n smiled, grabbing Miles’ arm “No. don’t worry about it, you guys are my friends. I’d spend much more money on all of you If I could.” Miles laughed, “Yeah. But I’m starting to think Hobie’s allergic to paying for…well, anything.”

Y/n laughed loudly “And what you said earlier, I don’t have a lot of ‘icks” Miles scoffed, looking at his boyfriend in disbelief at the statement. Y/n groaned “I’m serious! You’ll never have to worry about icks, because you’re perfect.”

“Really? Thanks. 😏”

“You know, except that.”

“A smirk!?!?!”

“Yeah, it makes you look like a Sonic character.”

“What??”

“But I should go, my dad’s probably already made lunch.” Y/n kissed Miles on the cheek, before walking into the apartment doors.

“Wha? You can’t walks away like that!!”

“Is it a sonic character you hate??”

“What? No, i love Shadow!”

[itsohh]

Electra Heart Part 1

A/N: Female reader, I had this idea in my head for soooo long and finally got it down on paper. Idk if I love mk11 or mk1 Johnny more but I do love how they emphasize how smart he is in the new game. I love the idea of being stupidly rich and famous like him and just... him not knowing.

Summary: Being one of Earthrelm's defenders isn't easy. Johnny flirting with you doesn't make it easier but what started as an annoyance becomes something you welcome. Perhaps dating Johnny isn't so bad after all- so long as he doesn't find out that you're an a list popstar.

Word count: 6192

Warnings: None

Part 2 AO3

“There is one more we wait for.” Liu Kang’s voice was calm, patient as he looked at the four men in front of them. Having just being met, they constantly sized each other up. To be Earthrelm’s champions was no small feat. It was only at the hurried sound of feet behind them did the four men turn. Most of them made small glances, interested but not over-exerting themselves but Johnny was the one to truly look. 

Your shoes skidded slightly on the ground as you came to a stop and your eyes dated from the group of men before you. Admittedly it wasn't your most graceful entry. The weight of all eyes on you had you freeze a bit before your eyes settled on Liu Kang's. They were gentle and kind most genuinely. Something you didn't often see. 

“Oh uh-” You cupped your fist and bowed before him. “Apologies for making you wait. It was a mission to get time off from work.”

“I understand that your career is one of the most presidential demands and thank you for accepting my offer.”

“Anything that gets me out of the house.” You nodded to him and he smiled. With the gesture of his hand, he guided you to a spot next to the men. 

“What. A. Total. Babe.” A poorly hushed voice whispered as you walked and the snap of your eyes towards the voice caught the man in the act. Oh, you had seen that man many times before. Johnny Cage himself. 

As his eye made contact with yours he completely stilled. Only the corner of his mouth had opened in a comedic fashion and he leaned towards the men in red. 

The man next to him promptly elbowed him and hissed out. “Would it kill you to show her some respect?” 

“Oh trust me, I have a huge amount of respect.” He grinned and gave you his signature grin. 

“Now we are all here-” Liu Kang took control of the scene and commanded attention. “-allow me to introduce you all.”

-

“You know when the tournament is all done and dusted you should come star in one of my movies with me. I'm always in need of a hot love interest.”

“I'm no actress, Johnny.”

“You say that but I reckon you have what it takes. There's something about you that screams that you belong in front of a camera.” 

“Hm, no. I have to go back to work.”

Johnny rolled his eyes as he bounced a little on his feet. The pair of you continued to circle each other, ready for your spar. 

“I get being committed to your job but I swear that's always your excuse. How ‘bout this then, you let me take you out on a date?”

“You're a sound salesman's Cage, make them an outrageous offer so then your hard-to-sell offer sounds better in comparison when the second offer is the true one you wanted in the first place.”

“Hey, I would be totally down having you in one of my movies! But yeah, you caught me.”

You took a step forward and his focus was instant. Every move from both parties was highly calculated. “Whenever you talk about her, you sound a bit bitter about your ex. Are you sure you’re ready for another relationship?”

“Ho! I said date but would. Not. Say No. To a relationship with you, god damn.” He tilted his head and put his hands up. “And trust me, there's no lasting feeling there.”

“And why would I want to date you?”

“The question is, why wouldn't you? I mean look at all this.” He gestured towards himself. “I got fame, fortune and the good looks to go with it.” 

“That means nothing to me. Fame is a curse rather than a blessing. Privacy is removed for all eternity. Let me guess I become your side piece that you show off then get harassed by all your loyal fangirls that want to screw you. Besides I have enough money to support myself, any more would not bring me happiness. Finally, tell me, is there any intellectual maturity behind those pretty eyes of yours? Any at all?” 

“Wow you really put some thought into this, I'm surprised actually. Considering you always say no and all. But uh- you think my eyes are pretty?” 

“You ignoring everything I said and focusing on a compliment is so you Johnny in a way that answers my question completely.”

“Just one date, I will rock your world!” 

“I don't need my world rocked.”

“How about you tell me what you want from a man and I'll see if I can be that.”

“Johnny, if I ever go out with you it's to be with you, not someone you're pretending to be to please me.”

“I won't change, promise. Just see if what you like aligns with this perfection.” He gestured to himself. 

“Maybe if you impress me in this fight. Consider it a wager.”

“Easily. Deal.”

“But if you don’t- you stop asking me. Forever.” 

His face scrunched up for a moment and he weighed his head. “Fine deal, I won't lose.”

“I said to impress me. Not win.” 

-

The fight had started with your foot against his head. A kick. It finished with a different kick. One to your head. You had been a second too slow and hadn't been quick enough. It sent you directly down onto the mat in an instant. The last of your strength was gone and pain surged in your sinus. 

Your hands flew to your face as you curled up on your side. Johnny called out your name in shock before he quickly ran up to you. His knees slid down on the mats and you could hear his voice next to you.

“Oh shit! I didn't mean to actually- are you okay- oh fuck I'm so sorry.” 

You whimpered when you felt his gentle touch on your cheek and where your hand connected with it. “Hey-” His voice cooed before his head snapped up to one a monk that neared. “Go get a healer or something! Or Liu Kang! I don't know what you guys have just go get help.” He hurried and swallowed when he looked back down at you. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Let me look at it.” He lightly tugged on your hand. 

You were hesitant to move but slowly you rolled from your side to your back, legs still on each other. With a pained breath, you opened your eyes and allowed him to pull away your hands that covered your nose. 

Blood had covered them and ran down from your nose over the rest of your face. It was a constant flow but there was a decent amount of it. “Shit your bleeding.” His big brown eyes looked at you with complete concern as he cupped your face. Johnny was leaning over you, one hand planted on the ground next to your head for balance. He swallowed and quickly got something out of his clothing. A white piece of fabric which he held up to your face to capture the blood. 

“I'm so so sorry I-”

Johnny's voice was cut off when someone interrupted him. Liu Kang and a couple of monks behind him rushed down to your side and Johnny pulled back from you. 

“What happened?” Liu Kang asked. 

“We were sparing and I kicked her too hard. I didn't mean to properly hurt her. She's normally so quick to block I-”

“I understand.” Liu Kang nodded and turned his focus to you. Liu Kang took the cloth away from your face and stared at your nose. “Get me something for her pain.” He turned to the monk next to him for a moment. “This might hurt more but may I touch it?” 

You made a small nod and winced when his fingers made contact. “It doesn't look too bad, I've had worse myself over the years but I need to realign it. This may hurt a bit.” 

He steadied his two hands and you thought he would give you a count down but no- he quickly flexed them and moved your nose back into position. A loud cry came from lips and you snatched your head out of his grasp. 

“I'm sorry, it's better that you don't know when it's coming so you don't tense.” 

Liu Kang moved to your side more. “Here, let us help you up." He nodded to Johnny to slowly pull you up into an upright position.

It wasn't intentional but you leaned into the warmth of Johnny's support as hurried footsteps approached the group of you. 

“Thank you.” Liu Kang spoke and you felt his hand on your knee. “This will help with the pain, may I?” 

You blinked a few times and stabilized yourself before you nodded. His hand gently graced your nose as he applied an ointment. The pain relief it supplied was instantaneous and had you sigh. 

A groan left your lips and your breathing slowed. “Thank you.” You finally spoke and he pushed up on his heels back into a stand. 

He offered a hand to you which you quickly took and he pulled you up to your feet. 

“It looks a lot worse than it is, you will heal quickly.” 

“Whatever that stuff was, it did wonders.”

“Will you be alright?”

“Yeah, I'm good now. Thanks really, don't worry about me.” You waved him off and he nodded with a smile. If anyone knew you were okay, it was him. Liu Kang nodded to Johnny before he handed you the piece of bloodied cloth and left. 

“I am so sorry I really mean it I’m-” Johnny was quick to apologize when your eyes landed on him. 

“It's fine Johnny. Relax, accidents happen.”

“Yeah but- god- I never wanted to hurt you. Ever. I got so caught up and- fuck- I'm so sorry.”

“Johnny, I'm fine really. It was a good hit, I should have been quicker.”

“It is not your fault.” He was fast to defend you, completely obvious from his earlier words. 

“And it's not yours either. That's why they call it an accident. If it makes you feel better, you certainly impressed me.” 

His concern wasn't killed but was covered up by interest in your words. “Oh yeah? Me breaking your nose is how I impress you?”

“No, allowing me to know something I need to work on impressing me. Which means you won our bet.” You looked down at the cloth in your hand and started to wipe away the blood from your face. 

“As much as I would love to know how you like your guys, let's get you cleaned up first.”

Johnny slowly took you back to his room where he got you a fresh cloth and wet it. He slowly started to clean your face and you let him. 

“Mmm.” You hummed as he cleaned you up and then took a step back to admire his work. 

“There! Good as new, save for the bruising.”

“I like someone that can take care of me.” You caught him off guard and his brows shot up. Johnny placed the wet cloth on a side table and pulled a chair opposite you. He sat down in it as you sat on the end of his small bed. 

“Yeah?”

“I also like someone who can make me laugh. Someone who can genuinely love me for every side of me. When I'm quiet when I'm loud. Someone who accepts how important my work is to me and doesn't try and ultimatum that away from me.” He leaned in as you did. 

“I like someone who can be genuine and be there for me just to listen when I'm having a bad day. Someone to hold me close when I cry. I want someone who can love me for me.” Your voice cracked a little and you broke eye contact with him. 

“I can do that.” He whispered and your lips curled. 

“Can you? Or can you just act like you can?” You stood up from his bed and his lips opened. 

“I can, I-”

“I guess we won't ever find out.” You shrugged, your voice a tease as you headed for his bedroom door. 

“Wait! What about our date?” He asked as you started to go through the doorway. 

“Date? The bet was to tell you what I want in a partner. Be them a dude or not. I never said I would date you. Thanks for cleaning me up but now I have to go change clothes.”

-

As Liu Kang explained how you all would fight to become his champion, Johnny leaned over to your ear. “We have to fight each other huh? If I win you go out on a date with me. Anywhere you want, best night of your life guaranteed.”

“What do I get if I win?”

“Same as last time, I'll never bring it up again.”

“You know most men are normally content with a woman telling them no and listening.” Kenshi huffed and Johnny put his hands up. 

“Hey! She's never told me directly no. Only used it as a bet wager. Probably because she likes it and just doesn't want to admit it.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Johnny. You are first.” Liu Kang’s words had Johnny's ears perk up. 

“Doing the best first huh?”

Liu Kang called out your voice and you could see the way that Johnny's entire body seemed to vibrate with excitement. 

“We got a deal?” He asked as he found his position across from you. A deep breath calmed your body and allowed you to focus. 

“You really want to place a bet on arguably one of the most important kombat fights of our life.”

“...Yes.”

“Fine. 

A grin formed on his face as he summoned you with his hand. 

-

As you looked at your phone you felt a presence appear. 

“You let Johnny win against you.” Without looking up you recognised Liu Kang’s voice. 

“And how did you figure that?”

“I've seen you work, seen you practice. Johnny is good but you pull your punches a lot against him. Today was no different.”

“It’s not moral kombat, I'm not trying to kill him.” You looked up and locked your phone with the press of a button. 

“True but I believe you rival Raiden. If you won against him I wouldn't have been surprised.”

“Truthfully? Since you said there would only be one Champion I didn't want to be it.”

“You don't believe you could do it?” He stepped fully into the room and sat down across from you. His eyes examined you as his eyes read your body. They softened into a look of realization. “You don't think you can handle the pressure.” He seemed so surprised by the fact it made you press your lips together. 

“Yeah. Why are you surprised?”

“Well, doing things in front of an audience isn't anything new for you. I would have thought you would enjoy the spotlight.”

“Not as me though. When I'm up one stage as Nightingale that's another person. She's a mask I put on. Admittedly it can be a liberating mask at times but this is scary being me. Doing something with my name and my face. It's not the same.”

“I understand and I thank you for doing this regardless.”

A knock at your door had both of your heads turn to face it. Liu Kang nodded to you and you spoke up. “Come in.” 

Johnny's head poked around the door and landed on Liu Kang’s for a second. “Hope I'm not interrupting anything.”

“No, we were just discussing the fight. I was heading out anyway.” The fire god stood up and smiled as he left the room. 

“Soooo.” Johnny slid into the room and you swore his teeth shined as he grinned. 

“Yes, Johnny?”

“Pick you up at seven?” 

“From where? Johnny, we’re going to Outworld in a day. You can't be seriously thinking about a date.”

“No, no I mean after all this. Me, you, a world-class view and the best Wagyu you ever had.”

“No.” You folded your arms and his face dropped. Before he could say anything you continued. “You said anywhere I want. I don't want some flashy restaurant. I want at home-cooked dinner.”

“Oh thank god, I thought you were telling me no. Yeah, I can cook for you. Prepare for the best home-cooked meal you ever had.”

“I want to watch you cook it.” 

“Come on you doubt my ability? You really think I would purchase food then disguise it as my own cooking?”

“Yes. That's exactly what I think and the fact you brought it up tells me you had thought of it.”

“No way. You underestimate, trust me I know how to cook.” 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

-

Your house never really felt like a home. Not after your address got doxxed and you were never left alone. Paparazzi loved to sit there and attempt to get photos of you out of costume. In all honesty, you spent most of your time at your friend's loft. As much as you could, she didn’t mind.

That's where you were as you got ready. Lisa smiled as she helped you with your dress. “So what's his name again? I can't believe you went to a monk monastery and found a hot date.”

“Jonathan.” 

“And what does this Jonathan do?”

“Some acting.”

“Uh-huh uh-huh.”

“It's not a big deal.” You shrugged as her hands left your dress and you turned to face her. 

“Not a big deal?! I don't think you have been on a genuine date since ever. When was the last time you had a date that wasn't a PR stunt?”

“I don't know.”

“Nev-er.” She emphasized the two syllables. 

“It's one date and I already know the guy.”

“The fact that you already know him and agreed to go out on a date with him tells me there's going to be wedding bells in a month.”

“Lisa! No way. He's charming sure but I don't know. He might be one for the chase you feel? Might get bored.”

“Girl if he gets bored of you then we're all doomed cause then love isn't real.”

“He, like, split with his wife a few months ago.”

Her face fell you could see concern form on her face. “Shit, that's not great. If the press find out about it they could spin the whole-”

“Homewrecker story yeah I know.”

“You don't even have an album to profit off it either.”

“Yeah, I'm hoping to keep this all on the down low”

“Lips sealed. Where's he taking you?”

“Dinner at his place, it was my pick.”

“Smart.” She gave you a sly smile and tapped the side of her head with her finger. 

There was a knock on the door and Lisa pretended to go for it and you scrambled to get to the door before her. A loud laugh left her lips and you glared at her before she disappeared into the kitchen. 

You made your way to the door and cracked it open to see Johnny leaning there on the door frame, flowers in his hand. A bouquet of red chrysanthemums.

“You got me flowers?” At first, you thought it was a little corny but then you paused at the type. 

“I remember you looking at them back at the temple. We were training and took a break by them. You had the prettiest smile as you looked at them.”

A flush formed on your face at the realization he had been watching you. It was hard to tell when he wore sunglasses almost everywhere. “Here let me go out these in a vase.” You took them from him and wandered back into the loft. As you approached the kitchen a single hand came up from the side of the island and placed a vase on the surface. Lisa was obviously hiding down. 

It already had water in it. You put the red bouquet in them and settled them there on the counter. 

“Nice place you got here.”

“Oh uh, I didn't decorate it. All credit goes to my friend Lisa.”

“Well tell your friend Lisa she did a good job.”

“I'm sure she knows in her own way.” You mumbled under your breath. “Shall we get out of here then?” You turned to face Johnny as he looked around the loft.

“Right this way.” 

-

Johnny's mansion was massive and in every way, it screamed him. “Welcome to mi casa.” He put his hands up and walked backwards. Your eyes trained over the building as he led you through the building. It wasn't new by your standards, you were no stranger to lavish houses but you couldn't deny the stunning view of the sun setting by his pool. 

“And this here is the kitchen.” It was a massive room that had an island that connected it to the rest of the building. It had giant windows without curtains that continued on the view. He pulled out one of the island counter chairs and gestured for you to sit on it. 

“Mi lady.” You placed your hand on the counter and sat down.

“Thanks.” 

Johnny jogged into the kitchen and started to roll his sleeves up. He started to pull out ingredients from his fridge and cupboards. 

“So what's on the menu for tonight.”

“You said no to Wagyu so hope you don't mind pasta.”

He got a pot out. “Mmm, I do love pasta, what kind?”

“Rotini.” He dramatically said with a fake Italian accent. 

You watched as he picked up two onions from the cupboard and started to juggle them in one hand. 

“Faster.” You commanded with a devilish smirk on your face. His brows shot up above his glasses but followed your request. Faster and faster he went until he threw one up really high and caught the other. It landed in his hand and you started to give him a little applause as you laughed. 

“Johnny Cage the clown. How fitting.”

“I may be a fool but only a fool for you.” He tilted his face so you could see above his glasses and he winked.”

“That's so bad.”

“Ah, but you love it.” 

You rolled your eyes at him and slipped out of the chair. Johnny watched with interest as you approached and took the onions from his hand. You ran them underwater before you grabbed his kitchen knife and started to cut them on the waiting cutting board. 

“Thought I was making dinner.” He hummed and placed his hands on your shoulder. 

“Well someone has to make dinner while you're doing your circus act.” 

“In that case, we want them in small cube kinda shapes. We only actually need one onion.” 

“You just wanted to show off your juggling skills?” 

“Uh- yeah! Come on, of course, I’m going to do everything I can to impress my incredibly hot, smart and talented date.”

You shook your head as you laughed and he snatched away the spare onion. To stay productive he reached and got the garlic from a small container on the bench. Johnny pulled out a small bowl and crushed the garlic into it. 

“Is this good?” You asked and Johnny leaned over you to look. 

“Perfect.”

Johnny leaned over to grab a large pan and placed it on the element before he doused it in olive oil and turned it to medium heat. He grabbed some butter from the fridge and broke some off and added it to the pan. 

Johnny lined up a few spices and grabbed passata from the fridge. “I can cook but there is no way I am making my own passata.” He pointed it at you and you held your hands up in defense. 

“Never said a word Cage.”

“Good, I don't want any minus points.”

“I'm not grading you on our date Johnny.” You laughed. “Just be yourself.”

“Greeeattt. Because myself is my favourite person to be.”

“Never mind, I take back my words I am grading you and you just lost points.”

He made a dramatic gasp before his lips curled upward. 

“Oh, teach is there any way I can get extra credit? I’ll do anything. ” His brows wiggled and you grabbed a tea towel and whipped him with it. 

“You’re the worst now shut up, the pans sizzling.” 

His attention snapped back to the pan and he took a few steps towards you. When he was close enough to touch you he picked up the onion with cupped hands before he dropped them into the pan. 

“Mind stirring the pasta?” He nodded towards it. You grabbed the spoon that was placed to the side and followed his instructions. 

“You know, it's pretty crazy we both live in L.A.”

“Yeah, I moved here for my work. I don't think I ever quite made it home though.”

“How come?”

“I don't know, it's so loud and in your face. I think that's fine some of the time but other times I just want to hide away with the quiet.”

“Not a fan of partying it up large?”

“Oh I can party- trust me. I'm no shut in but like sometimes I need to rest. Just curl up in bed on my phone.”

“I get that.”

“Really? You seem so high energy all the time.”

“Ah trust me sometimes the Cage needs to chill at home with a drink. Not often-” He paused. “-But sometimes yeah.”

He stared off for a moment before he snapped back to the onions. Johnny grabbed the small bowl of garlic and dumped it. It sizzled and added to the inviting scent of the onions. 

Johnny added the passata and his lineup of spices and continued to mix the pan. “So what do you do for your work? I don't think I remember you saying at the academy.”

“Ah, it's not very interesting compared to you.”

“Awww come on, I still want to know. Considering how big of a deal it is for you.’

“Mmm, I'm an artist I suppose.”

“Woah really?” 

“Kinda I guess. It's whatever, I'm not really a fan of taking about it, to be honest.”

“No problem here, if you don't want to talk about it that's fine by me.” He smiled. 

“I appreciate it. But what about you? How's the directing business going?”

“Oh fantastic honestly, Mortal Kombat? A massive hit let me tell you. What did you think of it? Comparing it to real life.”

“I uh haven't actually gotten around to watching it.”

His jaw dropped and turned his entire body to face you. “You haven't watched it?”

“I guess I was scared maybe? Like I presume you put someone as me in it and I didn't really want to see myself portrayed?”

“Hey if you wanted me to write you out-”

“No, no, it's not that. I like that you're telling our story I just, ah, I've never been a fan of seeing recordings of myself.”

“You’re not? But how come? Loom at you your gorgeous. A grade triple S for super smoking sexy hottie.”

“It's a mental thing.” You shrugged and scratched your side. 

“Look, I don't understand that at all, but I respect that. How about I make a cut specially for you, that hasn't got you in it?””

You laughed and slapped his arm. “No Johnny that's sweet but I'm not going to get you to do that. Look if you want me to watch it that bad I will.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I’ll take it.” He pulled out some cream from the fridge and dumped it into the pan. Johnny turned it down to a simmer and got the cheese from the fridge. 

Johnny started to grate the cheese and you couldn't help but watch his muscles tense as he did so. You leaned against the countertop with your back and folded your arms. 

“How big of a cheese fan are you?” 

“Mmm go to town.”

“Hey hey! That's what I like to hear.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Oh, man I was dying there at the academy without it. Practically gorged myself when I got back.” Johnny turned off the element and strained the water from the pasta. He let it sit for a moment before he added the cheese and finally the Rotini. 

Johnny fished out a fork from his draw but as he went to try it you grabbed his wrist. Caught by curiosity, he allowed you to direct it towards you where you put it in your mouth. 

A moan got caught on your lips as you let go of his wrist and enjoyed the flavours that delighted the inside of your mouth. It was warm and comforting in every way it should be. 

“Mmm, this is really good Johnny!” 

Despite your compliment, he just stood there stunned “Johnny?”

“Huh? Oh yeah uh-” He cleared his throat and shook off his stunned state. “You go into the dining room over there and I'll bring it out.”

“You don't need my help?”

“Trust me you've been plenty of help, I'll be there in a second.”

The dining room was a lot more separate in its own way. It was on the side of the house and gave a view not to the pool but the large garden outside. It felt in its own way a lot more private somehow. 

There were two large solo unlit candelabras in the centre of the table while a setting for two had been prepared.

You found a seat and after a couple of moments, Johnny came through the door. He had a fake moustache on and a tea towel draped over one arm. Johnny held a pair of plates with a metal round cover over the top of them and practically bounced over to the table. 

He put one across from you and then one in front of you. The metal covering was lifted and he gestured towards it. “For the lady, our finest Rotini.” A return of the fake Italian accent. “And would she like a drink with her meal? Wine perhaps?”

“Waters fine thanks, I'd like to be able to remember this.”

There was a glint in his eyes at your words and he vanished for a moment. “The finest water we have.” He placed a glass on the table and then poured a jug into it. Johnny placed it on the table and then lit the two candles. 

“Now is there anything else we can do for the lady?” 

“Mmm, perhaps a dinner date would be nice, just someone to keep me company.” You played along and brought the glass of water to your lips. 

Johnny ripped off the fake moustache and dumped it to the side with the towel. “Hey look at all this! Mind if I join you?” 

“Be my guest.”

“Man, this place has great service.” Johnny slid into the seat across from you and removed the top. He was about to pick up his cutlery when he paused. Then he fished a small remote out of his pocket a clicked it. Behind you, a speaker started to lightly play soft music and you could only roll your eyes. 

“Hey got to have a good soundtrack to your life huh?”

“Whatever you say, Cage.” You bit into the pasta and you had to admit he had cooked it to perfection. “I admit I'm surprised you can cook this well.”

“My mom taught me when I was a kid. Credit goes to her. Was a pain in her ass too, I always kept eating everything.”

“Wow seemed like littles changed huh?”

“You love me.”

“Sure Cage whatever you say.”

The meal the pair of you eventually finished and Cage disappeared for a moment when he cleaned the table. You were left alone in the dining room as music continued to play. 

“Now, how are you? Looking for dessert because I can get us some if you want.”

“Ugh, I think I'll die if I eat another bite thanks.” 

“In that case…” He dramatically held out his hand. “May I have this dance?*

“You dance huh?” You took his hand. 

“Of course!” He led you past the end of the table where there was room. “Do you?” His voice was far lower and quieter than usual as you placed your hands against his chest where you leaned into him, far from proper form. 

“I do but I kinda just want to sway if that's okay.”

His hands settled on your waist as he soaked in your proximity. “Hey, anything the lady wants.” Johnny pulled you against him and the pair of you slowly swayed to the music. 

“I had fun with you tonight. It's been a long time since I cooked for let another cooked with someone.” 

“Thanks for cooking for me Johnny. Despite what I say, or when I act annoyed, I enjoyed myself as well. A lot.” You lift your head and looked into his eyes. Slowly, one hand drifted from behind his neck down to the side of his face where you cupped it. 

Johnny stayed almost completely still and allowed you to take the lead. Then slowly you started to lean in and just as you closed in, lips just about to touch- a loud barring sound came from your phone. 

Snapped out of it, you pulled away from Johnny and desperately went for your phone. 

“I'm so sorry I have to take this.” You apologised and answered your phone as you left the room. 

-

“Jackson you said you wanted work like my old stuff, this is like it.”

“Yeah, but a love album? The style might be the same but the messages? This is all different.”

“What do you mean it's not a love album it's a party one. Pop music about sex and shit.”

“I have fucking ears, Gale. I know when a song is about falling in love. Who's the person huh? At least give me a heads up before there's a scandal.”

“There's not- I'm- look” You stuttered as Johnny came into the living room and headed to get a drink but didn't disturb you. 

“We can talk about it tomorrow come into the studio tomorrow morning at eight. The actual one, not your home one.”

“What? No, I always work from home I'm not-”

“That was before you delivered me a fucking love album. This is not your old work!”

“But it's the work you're getting from me you can take it or leave it.” You hissed. 

“Look, we can make it work we just have to do a little editing. Just come into the studio, no buts. Be there.”

“No I-” The line went dead. You let out a sigh of frustration and combed your hair with your hand. 

“Might have only heard some of your side but I presume that was work?”

“Yeah my manager called, I have to come in tomorrow. Look Johnny this has been great really and I wish I could stay but if I'm going I'm tomorrow I really need to get back home and retire.” Guilt formed on your face but he didn't get mad. 

Cage shrugged and draped an arm around you. “Don't sweat it, we’ll get you home nice and early. There's always next time.”

“Next time?” You cocked a brow as the pair of you started to head towards his front door. 

“Yeah. Next time.”

Admittedly you spent most of the car ride grumbling about your manager as Johnny attempted to cheer you up. Eventually, you found yourself back at Lisa’s doorstep. 

“Thanks for the ride, Johnny.” You stood in the doorway as he leaned on the door frame. 

“Anytime.”

“I had a good time, that was really nice.”

“That's what I've been telling you babe!” You rolled your eyes at him and snaked an arm around his neck. You leaned in and soon your lips connected with his. At first, he only moved slowly, testing the waters to see where you were going with matters but as you pulled him against you he committed fully. 

He pressed against your body as one hand found your backside and started to feel it up. Johnny's tongue danced against your own. Just as he started to get comfortable you broke away. A sound rumbled from his throat and you couldn't help but grin at him. Your hand drifted from his neck up to cup his cheek. 

“Fuck.” He whispered and went to kiss your neck, just one last touch. With your free hand, you gently pressed on his chest and he got the idea. 

“Goodnight Johnny.” You hummed and you swore he practically whined. 

“One more.”

“Next time.” A promise. 

“Next time?” He sounded pleased at the motion. 

“Sure, got to give these back.” You stole the glasses off his face and escaped out of his grip. One last wink, you shut the door behind you. Lisa popped up from the couch with wide eyes. 

“Some actor? You didn't tell me you were going on a date with Johnny fucking Cage! ”

[xhanisai]

AU where Marinette is an extended Art and Design teacher and Adrien is a science and maths teacher and they teach at a secondary school and they also are Ladybug and Chat Noir

- Marinette is 23 and Adrien is 24. They’re new teachers at this school but they meet after meeting each other as Ladynoir (so around the same time period).

- They got their miraculous around the same time at that age but decide to not hide their identities from each other because FUCK THAT! They need each other’s support! They become happily surprised finding out that they know each other sort of.

- They fall madly in love with each other but are absolute chicken shit about properly confessing. Adrichat is dramatic, flirty and also shy and sweet. Maribug is also flirty and teasing but can also stumble over her words because of him when she least expects it. The longing and yearning they have for each other is so clear to an outsider but they’re idiots. Absolute idiots. Like little chicks stumbling around idiots.

- They’re silly, goofy, inexperienced af adults because I NEED more rep of that and their students are always making comments about them that will make one swoon like an old Victorian woman.

- Adrien always brings them coffee in the morning and always gives Marinette a kiss on the forehead. And if she’s currently teaching at class, he’ll wait till she’s settled on the chair and then come into class and kiss her head and give her coffee. He gives no shits if the students are giggling at them. Nothing will come in between him and giving his Lady some well deserved kisses :)

-Their classrooms are next door to each other. So, when students are behaving, they’re allowed to study in any of the two classrooms. 

- Everyone at first thought they’re married because of how sickeningly sweet and adorable they are with each other. Imagine their surprise and outrage when they realise that no, they’re not even dating (yet).

- Marinette also visits Adrien’s classroom often, making sure that he’s eaten on time and that he’s taken his breaks. A few times, he comes to school with a nasty fever and the students get a front row view of her babying him and scolding him lovingly.

- Whenever an akuma attacks, they both have to make excuses to leave (even if it is in the middle of teaching). This gets students and staff coming up with rumours about them much to the pair’s embarrassment.

- No one questions Adrien’s mini fridge full of cheese and Marinette’s drawer full of cookies and macarons.

- In the staff room, they’re always together and they help one another with coming up teaching stuff and all that jazz. 

- Often, these chats will be in nearby cafes and bistros (totally not a date).

- Adrien loves children and wants to try his best becoming a good role model for them whilst teaching them about things he loves. This is his dream job. Marinette enjoys her job too, especially when she’s teaching about Fashion. She also has an online store (this girl can do fucking anything you know what she’s like, nothing can stop her) and has designed many incredible things.

- Marinette often brings in treats from her parents’ bakery for her class and Adrien’s and she always makes sure to bring his favourites. One time, he was having a long, bad day and Marinette didn’t come in until mid-afternoon with a dozen of passionfruit macarons. Everyone witnessed him light up like a kitten and spin her around in a hug with a “Ma Princesse!!!!”

- Because of how affectionate and how sweet they are with one another, every Parisian believes that ladynoir are married. Both of them have simulateously decided to let the citizens believe that and even play along because it’s another layer that can hide their identities. Totally not a reason to get all touchy as they please and share many hugs and kisses on the cheeks and heads as they like.

- If a class makes Adrien upset, they get severely chewed out by Marinette and that absolutely shitscares the students so they try their best to never make him sad. And if a class makes Marinette upset or super stressed and frustrated, Adrien would substitute and teach said class but he would be quiet and professional so that the students know he’s pissed at them for making his Lady upset.

- Marinette often overworks herself and being Ladybug only makes it worse so the only way to ensure she takes better care of herself is for Adrien/Chat Noir to visit her home often and pester her. Sabine and Tom have already accepted him as their son-in-law.

- Adrinette’s students have a bet on when they think their teachers will get married. The parisians have a bet going on of when they expect a Ladynoir baby. 

“We can’t just fake a baby, Chaton! It’s too complicated!”

“-I didn’t say fake a baby-”

“And we absolutely are not borrowing someone else’s baby as a civilian and pretend it’s ours for the press! Even if we mask the baby’s identity!” 

“I see...wouldn’t it be interesting if we genuinely do marry for real and have a baby for real...?”

“Hehehheh...yeah...so interesting...hahahah...”

“Yeah...”

- Like I said, they’re idiots.

- Sometimes, especially during their breaks, the students find Adrien and Marinette asleep next to each other on the bench or on the chairs, her head leaning on his shoulder and his head leaning on hers.

[palestinegenocide]

274 Palestinian lives don’t matter to the Biden administration

This week provided further evidence – if any were lacking — that anti-Palestinian bias is simply a rule of American politics, and today maybe the leading rule.

Yesterday Israel killed 274 Palestinians and wounded hundreds more in Gaza’s Nuseirat refugee camp while freeing four Israeli hostages, and the U.S. promptly hailed the “rescue”. It is beyond question that this was an indiscriminate massacre, but Joe Biden saluted the Israeli action, and so did Secretary of State, without a mention of Palestinian lives.

“As if we needed more proof of how little this administration values Palestinian lives,” Khaled Elgindy wrote.

Mainstream reporters are horrified, but politely. After the last outrage earlier this week, when Israel killed dozens of Palestinians in a school, a reporter asked at the State Department: “People might find it very puzzling that you have the leverage of $3.8 billion of defense supplied to the Israelis per year, and you cannot compel this situation to change.”

The State Department said the U.S. has prodded Israel, and there’s been progress. “We have seen them [the Israelis] take improvements over time.”

So the U.S. keeps pouring money and weapons into Israel, and the Democratic base believes overwhelmingly that it’s a genocide, and Biden keeps saying he wants a ceasefire, but won’t apply any pressure to achieve it.

Republicans are at least more honest about their policy. Nikki Haley—a possible running mate for Trump —visited Israel at the end of May and wrote “Finish them” on an Israeli shell. Even as the death count in Gaza crossed 36,000.

This disdain for Palestinian life is consistent throughout the American establishment. Variety reported this week that a Hollywood marketing guru warned her employees that they should hit “pause on working with any celebrity or influencer or tastemaker posting against Israel.”

In an email, Ashlee Margolis said, “Anyone saying Israel is committing a ‘genocide’ is someone we will pause on working with, as that is simply not true…. While Jews are devastated by the loss of innocent lives in Gaza, we are feeling immense fear over the rising Jew Hatred all over the world.”

So again, Palestinian lives just don’t matter, next to Jewish fears.

This special degraded status for Palestinians has become an area of study for Palestinian intellectuals. Rabea Eghbariah, a human rights lawyer and doctoral student at Harvard, wrote a lengthy legal argument for a new term for the Palestinian condition.

“The law does not possess the language that we desperately need to accurately capture the totality of the Palestinian condition. From occupation to apartheid and genocide, the most commonly applied legal concepts rely on abstraction and analogy to reveal particular facets of subordination,” Eghbariah wrote –and offered the idea of “Nakba” as a legal concept to encompass that subordination.

But Eghbariah’s argument was censored, first by the Harvard Law Review, in “an unprecedented” move against a fully-edited essay, as the Intercept reported. Then, in an even more unprecedented fashion, by the Columbia Law Review this week, whose board of directors, which includes alumni with ties to the Biden administration, actually shut down the entire website when Eghbariah’s piece went up. (In the ensuing controversy, they have now restored the site).

In the eyes of the world, Palestinians only count when they are dying. That is what Qassam Muaddi wrote at our site this week, in an essay titled, “Against a world without Palestinians.”

Over the years, learning our Palestinian history, I began to notice that in order to be acknowledged by the rest of the world, we Palestinians always had to die…. It is as if in order to exist without justification, Palestinians had to intimately deal with death — they could master it, put up the best show of it, but they always had to die.

Qassam went on to explain that all that builds Palestinian character, including culture and stories, has no place in the world as it is. It must always be dismissed as terrorism or something less than human.

He actually ends that essay with hope, that the global discourse of Palestine is finally changing.

And the next day, another 274 Palestinians were killed, with full U.S. support. And Democrats wonder why democracy is in crisis.

[writing-for-life]

Not the black coat 😭Please let Dream have his outrageous outfits please! That being said clothing aside Tom once again nails Dream. Dream looks so haunted and tired in this promo like a whole weight is being thrown onto his shoulders and he's bearing a massive burden. But again please let Dream have his outrageous outfits!

I really want to believe they’re just holding it back for an in-show reveal. But his period fashion for S1 was already so dire that my hopes are dwindling at this stage 😩

I mean, I get that some of the comics!garb wouldn’t look right on screen, but a tiny splash of colour here and there wouldn’t hurt. Or just something that isn’t a coat! 🤣

They could totally do the dinner outfit without making it look ridiculous, right?

@psychicexpertcollector ask answered

[esther-dot]

Yeah I think part of the reason why the fandom is so vehemently against Jonsa is because most of the Jonsa shippers (the one who makes predictions, theorizing, analysis, etc) also support other unpopular theories such as Dark D*ny and that T*rion and the Starks will be enemies and other things that goes against the popular theories and reading kf the series.

I don't really have a solid opinion on how the story might go (besides that D*ny will never get the IT) but I think this all really shows that Jonsas in general just have a much different way of reading the series and understanding the themes and lessons GRRM put in the story than the rest of the fandom. They're the ones who GET what GRRM meant when he said he's a 'realistic romantic'. And they take GRRM's writing of punishing violence seriously and understand which characters will be the heroes in the end (hint: its not T*rion or the person who BURNED ALIVE A SLAVE IN THE FIRST BOOK)

This is why, regardless of how the story will end, I'll always support the Jonsa part of the fandom's theories, because they offer such a fresh and interesting look and insight into ASOIAF that you're not gonna get in the mainstream part of the fandom

(about this ask)

hint: its not T*rion or the person who BURNED ALIVE A SLAVE IN THE FIRST BOOK

Dany burning a rape survivor, a woman she took as a slave, alive, in calm, deliberate fashion really is a horrific scene. It says something awful about the fandom that if you conclude that’s saying something bad about Dany, you’re an outcast. I also think Dark Dany is much more obvious than King Bran which has been confirmed to be from Martin? So I truly do not understand the outrage at this point. I definitely think that's why many people hate Jonsas, but like, we didn't write that scene, we didn't make Dany use forced labor or make money from slavery, we didn't write her allowing the slaughter of teens, we didn't make her decide to conquer a continent. We're just saying it means something that Martin did!

From what I’ve seen, Tyrion was a huge favorite for book fans, Dany was far and away the most popular show character, Arya was popular with fans of both, so Sansa was just, kinda screwed by being at odds with them and for as long as I’ve been active, it’s an uphill battle for people to try to present a different reading on her. People wanted to vilify her to defend their fav and that means taking the worst perception of her rather than considering what is actually being said in her story, and Jonsas very much do take a totally different perspective on her. I find most, not all, but much of the hate comes from people who dislike her.

I'm with you though, despite what it means to be open about unpopular interpretations and theories, I prefer the Jonsa way of reading the story, our spec and fandom. I never would have gotten involved in fandom at all if it weren’t for Jonsas and their interpretations!

[tyrannuspitch]

How do you HC the conversation where Thor finds out Loki is a Jotun foundling went?

Oh this is a VERY interesting question, and not one I have a full answer to yet.

First of all, since some people have very understandably suggested otherwise - I do think Thor knows. No, he never acknowledges Loki's species specifically, he just talks about "adoption"... but A) I don't think Odin would send Thor out in The Avengers without telling him everything he told Loki, because otherwise he'd be handing Loki a way to manipulate Thor; and B) Thor looks *decidedly* anguished (actually close to tears!) when Loki is talking about ~mindless beasts pretending to be people~ in The Avengers, which would make no sense if Loki were really only talking about Bruce, a mortal Thor's only just met.

So I think it's clear that Thor knows that Loki is Jotun and understands that internalised space-racism is a huge part of what's "wrong with" Loki. He just doesn't know how to help, so, in classic Odin fashion, he's avoiding it for fear of making it worse. (And probably also wrestling with his own lingering space-racism, guilt, denial, etc.)

As for the conversation itself... I'm not sure. I do think it happened very promptly, because Odin was right there and Thor was devastated and confused and would demand Answers. What the hell just happened to my brother?!

I think realising that he's been lied to his entire life by both his parents would be a major blow to Thor, after his trust has already been shattered by his father apparently leaving him on Earth to die and by, uh, pretty much everything Loki did. On its own, the lie wouldn't be as powerful to Thor as it was to Loki, but in context... Thor's entire world has been turned upside-down repeatedly in a few days. He lost his home and identity, he thought his father was dead, he thought his brother was going to kill him, now his brother IS dead and perhaps he never even knew him... He just has no stability left at all.

And I think that's why he expresses such faith in Odin in their final conversation: "There will never be a wiser king than you, nor a better father." It seems like a really odd thing to say after everything that's just happened, and a lot of people get outraged on Loki's behalf, but... I think it makes sense, psychologically speaking. From Thor's perspective, questioning Odin's will was what nearly ruined his life and ended his brother's. The lies plus the exile make it suddenly really clear just how far Odin is willing to go to enforce his power over his children, and Thor is the only child he has left. What further disasters could further resistance bring? So Thor gives in, and chooses to believe what he's giving into must be good and wise and necessary, because he just can't go on otherwise.

(Thor often reminds me of a quote I once read about how abused children hating themselves is really a survival strategy, because their parents have such power over them that they're effectively their entire world. So, from the child's perspective: if the child is "bad" but the parents are "good", then it is at least within the child's power to try to be better; but if the parents are "bad" while the child is "good", then the world itself is broken, and the situation is hopeless.)

So... I don't think Thor would be angry. I think he's too shocked and shaken to express anger, or to really blame anyone but himself. But I think Thor might still have a hard time accepting that this is the truth, as in... believing, understanding, and coming to terms with it.

Like... Thor has definitely not unlearnt all his prejudice against Jotuns in a handful of days on a completely different subject realm. He's probably not far off from where he started at all - sure, he's seen a few Jotuns face-to-face, so they're probably realer to him now, and he wouldn't accept Loki's plan for total annihilation... But in his mind, they're still enemies, still a grotesque, frightening Other, almost certainly still monsters.

So hearing that Loki is and always has been a Jotun will be really, really hard for Thor. He's going to be in utter turmoil over this, and there isn't any comfortable answer to settle on.

So... maybe Loki's not really Jotun. Okay, he can't see any reason why his parents would lie again, but maybe it's only true on a technical level, maybe Loki's really more like "one of us" than "one of them", on the inside. (But what actually makes a Jotun a monster? Is it behaviour? Culture? Biology? Is it some inherent property of their souls?)

Or maybe Jotuns aren't monsters, not all of them, not inherently. But everyone on Asgard has always acted like they are. If this is true, Thor has blood on his hands, and so do his parents, and his friends, and their entire society, the society Thor is responsible for and beholden to.

Or maybe Loki is a monster. (Was a monster.) He always seemed like a person, and Thor loved him, but apparently Thor barely knew Loki at all. In the end, Loki violently rejected Thor's love and did monstrous things, and it seems like he was lying very well for a very long time before that. Maybe Thor has been played for a fool, and he never had a brother at all.

Or maybe Loki was a monster, but he didn't want to be one. Maybe it wasn't entirely his choice; he was delicate, and their parents were trying to protect him, but Thor was careless and he broke him (by revealing his heritage; by leaving him alone in a crisis; by whatever long-standing failure he still doesn't understand that made Loki hate him so much and so personally in the end.)

Out of these, I think Thor ultimately settles on a mixture of #1 and #4. But there's so much going on here (grief for Loki; anger at him; fear of him; guilt in completely contradictory directions) and no way to really work through it or understand what's true that I think it takes a very long time. And there's probably a great deal of rain in Asgard in the meantime.

--

Anyway. This is... a very long reply that manages to avoid ever really being an answer. But here are some musings on Thor's state of mind in the wake of this revelation.

[crazyunsexycool]

The love we gave away.

Chapter 2

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Word count: 4.8k

Warning: mentioned child abuse, teenage pregnancy, talks about adoption (should this be a warning?), lil bit of angst.

A/N: this chapter had been written a few days ago but I didn’t want to post it until I posted the current chapter for is it a crime? Anyways, we get a bit of soft Ransom, which he only is with the twins and reader. But don’t worry the drama and the angst will be here soon!!!

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Ransom was a nervous wreck from the moment his assistant handed him the note with your name on it. It had been so long since he spoke to you although he thought about you every single day. He didn’t know how you still managed to have a hold on him. Your relationship had been a first for him. A first of many things actually but he’d never admit it out loud. He’d found love with you. You’d been so gentle with him and from the first date he was hooked.

When you told him you were pregnant he freaked, rightfully so. Linda and Richard Drysdale were going to kill him and he knew your parents weren’t any better. Deep down however he hoped you would have the baby. He didn’t know a single thing about them but if you were as caring and gentle with him he could imagine you would be the same as a mother. The thought itself was outrageous, you both had plans once you graduated high school. One of them was to go on vacation before starting college in the fall. Ransom had been working with his grandfather during the summer as part of a deal that the older man would fund the vacation. He wanted to surprise you and take you to the fashion capital of the world.

The day you told him that you were having twins he was speechless. When you told him you thought it was best to give the babies up for adoption, it broke his heart.

The day the twins were born Ransom finally understood what love truly was. He realized that neither you nor him had a way of taking care of the babies between school and work; there wouldn’t be time to actually look after them. Add on to that that both yours and his parents had pressured you into giving the babies up or being thrown to the streets, neither of you had a choice. Everything went downhill after that and before he realized what had happened you were gone. After that he swore off ever being in a relationship again. At least one that had such a deep emotional connection. Now he was known as a womanizer and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

After he got the courage to call you he was sure he’d been dreaming. The twins had found you and they wanted to meet him too. Once the conversation was over and you said your goodbyes Ransom headed into his walk-in closet and looked for a few minutes for a little box he kept hidden in a corner.

With a sigh Ransom walked back down to his study. He poured himself a drink and sat at his desk, opening the box. Inside there were two little hats, a picture and another small box. The little beanies were what the twins were wearing in the hospital, one pink with a bow and one blue. He’d grabbed them when the twins were being put into some actual clothes. The picture was of the four of you. He sat in the hospital bed beside you, he held your beautiful baby girl while you held your sweet baby boy. You both looked a mess, he was all red faced and with tear filled eyes and it was obvious you had just given birth, you looked so tired. Still you both smiled, they were small sad smiles but they were there. In the small box there was a ring. It was a small promise ring. Something to show you that he loved you no matter what had happened or what was to come. But he lost the courage to give it to you as he watched two total strangers walk out of the hospital with his kids. Leaving both of you empty handed and broken hearted. It’s like you had given away the love you had for each other. The days and even weeks afterwards were horrible. Your cries for your children were gut wrenching and they were burned into his memory.

Ransom started thinking about every question the kids might have and the answer he’d give. Soon he started to worry that they wouldn’t like him, maybe even hate him for giving them up. He fell asleep at his desk, slightly drunk so as to stop the voices of his parents telling him he would never be good enough to have a family of his own.

Before either of you knew it, the day you’d been waiting for had arrived. It was a gloomy Saturday afternoon. Ransom had traveled to New York from Boston a day before. You had sent him the information of the restaurant you’d picked. It was somewhere that had a private room and a back entrance for you to use. To Ransom’s surprise you were very well recognized to the point that sometimes paparazzi followed you along New York.

Ransom arrived early, he was way too nervous to sit in his hotel room for another minute. The private room had floor to ceiling windows and double doors leading to a small balcony that one could use to admire the city.

“Nice view right?” Your voice startled him and you giggled as his head whipped around to look at you. “Hi, Ran.”

“Y/N.” He said breathlessly.

You were even more beautiful than he remembered. The smile you had was genuine and his heart ached as he realized you might be just as happy to see him as he is to see you. He took a few steps to close the gap and pull you into his embrace. This reunion was 14 years in the making and it was long overdue. Why hadn’t either of you seeked the other out?

“You look beautiful.” He murmured in your ear. You were dressed in a simple summer dress and sandals and your hair pulled back. But it was one of your designs so you wore it proudly.

“Thanks, you look great too. How have you been?”

“That’s a loaded question and something I would prefer to answer over drinks.”

“Hhmm. How long are you here for?” You ask as you both take a seat at one of the tables.

“I drive back home tomorrow afternoon.”

“Maybe we can catch up tomorrow morning?” You offer.

“I’d like that.”

The door that leads to the rest of the restaurant opens and Theodore and Abigail walk in. Your eyes are on Ransom as you watch him look at his kids for the first time. It made you want to cry the way his eyes held so much fondness for them.

“Hi, I’m Abigail and this is Theodore.” She introduces herself and puts her hand out for Ransom to take. When he doesn’t move she looks at you and you lay a hand on Ransom’s shoulder.

“Sorry. I’m Ransom, I’m your father.”

It felt surreal for everyone in the room to hear it. This was actually happening, the four of you were together again. Ransom stood and pulled out a seat for Abigail and you knew how nervous he was from the slight shake of his hand. Theodore just gave a quick hello and sat at the empty chair which happened to be next to you and across from Ransom.

“So what have you been doing the last few days? Have you gone to explore the city some more?” You ask to break the tension in the room.

“A bit, we’ve mostly still been unpacking our house.”

A server walks in and takes drink orders before leaving again.

“You can just ask whatever questions you have. I mean we all know why we’re here, there's no need to dance around it.” You offer.

Theodore just nods but doesn’t say anything. Abigail though takes out her phone and you look over at Ransom, silently questioning what is going on. He only shrugs in response and turns back to the twins.

“I wrote down some questions.” Abigail turns her phone for you to look at the notes app opened up. “So how did you two meet?”

“At school. English class, third period to be precise.”

You looked at Ransom, impressed that he remembered that.

“Give me some credit thimble. I offered you the seat next to me and you said ‘no thank you’ with a little scowl on your face.”

“The seat was taken and you pushed the kid out of it, you punk.”

Theodore and Abigail looked at each other and smiled while listening to your bickering.

“Anyways,” you wave your hand dismissively in Ransom’s direction. “After being there a few weeks there was this guy. What was his name? Was it Lance?”

“Yeah.”

“Well this guy Lance was a huge asshole.”

“Woah language thimble.” Ransom motions towards the kids. “Little ears.” Abigail laughs at that but Theodore bites back a smile.

You scoff.

“What was it that you called that guy that answered the door?”

“A dick.” Abigail supplies happily.

“She called my dad a dick. I think their little ears are safe.”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry I didn’t know he was your dad.” Abigail hid her face in her hands.

“Nah it’s ok he really is a dick. But more on him later.” You shrug and Ransom nods in agreement. “Anyways, he kept annoying me about going out with him to the point where he cornered me and said that I should just give up and accept.”

“I hated that guy so I walked up to them and kicked his ass.”

“Then asked me out.” You rolled your eyes and they smiled. “But I said no to him too.”

“It took three weeks before I asked again. Then she said yes.”

“So you guys met and then you just got pregnant?” Theodore spoke up for the first time.

“No, we dated for a year before that ever happened.”

Theodore just stared at you, waiting for the actual story.

“Ok so…”

*****

Almost 16 years ago

“You’re what?” Ransom was freaking out as he paced back and forth in his room at the boarding school.

“I’m pregnant.”

“And you’re sure?”

“Yes. I went to a clinic and they confirmed it. Ransom what are we gonna do? My parents are going to kill me.” You started sobbing into your hands.

“Thimble, baby, no don’t say that.”

He sat down next to you and pulled you into a hug. Ransom wanted to run. He was scared but he couldn’t imagine what it was like for you.

“We’ll figure it out ok? We will, I promise.”

He wasn’t sure how you were going to figure it out. You were both 16 and in high school. If that weren’t enough both of your parents were sure to lose their mind when they found out.

****

Ransom had been right. Richard, his father had beat the crap out of him. He had multiple bruises to prove it. When he finally saw you at school you barely looked at him but by the way you were holding yourself it was obvious something was done to you too.

When the school found out both of you were suspended. Your father had only referred to you as the whore or the slut if he wanted to talk to you. When the baby bump started to show he kicked you out. The only saving grace had been Harlan, Ransom’s grandfather, who had been in the city with the intention of finding out how you were doing. A neighbor had let you stay at the house for a few days but Harlan had offered two things. Security and seeing Ransom again after three months apart with no contact.

The minute you walked into Harlan’s mansion Ransom was on you. You both cried right there in the foyer and Ransom fell to his knees as his hand smoothed out the shirt you were wearing over your bump.

“It’s twins.” You revealed to him once you were able to talk. He looked up at you like a deer caught in headlights.

“There’s two of them?”

You just nodded.

“Ok, that’s fine. We can figure anything out.”

You ran your fingers through his hair and he stood up and pulled you in for a quick kiss.

“Come on you’re staying in my room.”

Ransom’s room was a typical teenage boy’s room. Posters of bands and models on the walls. A mess of clothes on his desk chair. The least surprising was the books that made home of any available corner. He led you to his bed, which wasn’t made, and had you lay back against the headboard. His hand rested on your belly.

“Ransom we need to talk.” You said quietly.

“About what? Is something wrong? Do you want something? I can go down to the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

You shook your head.

“Then what is it?” He moved to sit beside you.

“I’ve been thinking about this a lot.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re breaking up with me.” He pleaded.

“No. It has to do with the babies.”

“Ok?”

“I think it would be better if we put the babies up for adoption.”

“But-“

“Just think about it.” You cut him off. “We don’t know the first thing about taking care of babies. I mean I’ve done some babysitting but it’s not enough. And where would we live?” Tears were already rolling down your cheek. “How would we pay for the things they need?”

“Hey, it’s ok. Why don’t you just rest and we’ll talk about it later.”

“Ok. Just don’t leave me.” You said but he knew you meant more than just leaving you to sleep alone.

“Never.”

Once your breathing evened out Ransom shed a few tears of his own.

****

It was just you and Ransom all alone in a room. The boy had been born first. A few minutes later it was the girl. You cried from relief and pain and grief. They gave you a few minutes alone, just you, Ransom and the babies. He sat in bed next to you. He held your son, while you held your daughter. After a few minutes you switched. You both cried endlessly as you held them and pressed soft kisses to the top of their heads.

“I love you so much. I’m so sorry I can’t be your mommy.” You murmured to each of them softly between sobs.

You could hear Ransom talking to them too. A nurse came in and offered to take a picture of the four of you. Then before you knew it they were being taken away to meet their new family. Ransom laid in bed with you again and did the only thing he could, he held you.

*****

“Did you love each other at least?” Theodore asked, his eyes holding back tears.

“Absolutely.”

“Without a doubt.”

Both of you answer without any hesitation. You look over at Ransom and smile.

“Then why aren’t you still together?”

“Things weren’t easy after you were born. We tried our best but I think we just drifted apart. We were kids just a year older than you are now.”

“We didn’t mean for it to happen. It just did. Having to give you up for adoption was the most difficult thing we’ve ever had to do.” Ransom adds.

“Yeah well, it sounds like a bunch of bullshit.”

“Teddy!” Abigail scolds as the three of you watch him get up and walk out. “I’m sorry about him. A lot has happened in the last year.” She says sadly.

“Don’t worry about it. I can’t imagine what it must be like to find out you’re adopted.”

“I’m gonna go check on him.” Abigail excuses herself.

“Well fuck. This is going great.”

Ransom also gets up and heads towards the balcony. A cigarette in his hand, you grab it before he can light it and throw it away.

“It’s not good for you and we don’t know if they have asthma or something.”

Ransom just scowls at you.

“Uhh I’m so scared.” You stick your tongue out at him.

“Childish is what you are.”

“What if they never want to talk to us again?” You ask with a sigh.

“I don’t think that would happen. At least not on Abigail's part. Theodore seems the most hurt by it all, angry at the world.”

“Yeah, something else must have happened.” You turn back to look at Ransom. “But what do you think?”

He blows a breath out as he collects his thoughts.

“They’re beautiful, amazing. It’s obvious they’ve been well taken care of and loved. What more could we have asked for? That’s what’s always worried me, that the couple that adopted them wouldn’t have really cared for them.”

“Yeah, I thought about that all the time. It kept me up at night sometimes.”

You both stand there in silence with only the sounds of the city filling the air.

“Hey.” You hear from behind you. Abigail stood there with red rimmed eyes. Ransom moves first and places a hesitant hand on her shoulder. “I’m ok. Would it be ok if we kept going?” Her big blue eyes might as well pierce through Ransom because he nods dumbly.

Back inside Theodore is sitting at the table, leaning back, arms crossed over his chest and glowering at the table. The three of you sit back down but he won’t look at any of you. He reminded you so much of Ransom at that age.

“You said that your dad was a dick, were both your parents like that?”

“Loaded question.” Ransom said. “But yeah, my parents aren’t good people. My family as a whole actually. Except for my grandfather, Harlan. He helped us during the pregnancy.”

“Why didn’t he help you after we were born?” Theodore asked.

“Our parents wouldn’t allow it. My parents threatened to call the police and accuse him of kidnapping me since he lives in Boston. And since he’s so well known it would have been a huge issue.”

“Well known?” That piqued Theodore’s interest.

“Have you ever heard of the book called ‘Painting the Midnight sky’?”

“Yeah. It’s a mystery book.”

“Well my grandfather, you’re great grandfather, is the author.”

“Harlan Thrombey is your grandfather?”

“Yup.”

“Oh my god! This is so cool ! We have all his books.” Abigail explains. “I’ve currently been reading ‘When time runs out’ before bed.”

Theodore smiles at her excitement but it fades quickly.

“Well he’ll be happy to know that. I can even get you a copy of the book he’s writing now before it even hits the shelves.”

“Can you really?”

“Definitely.” Ransom smiles.

“What about your parents? You never finished telling us.” Theodore asked as he looked at you.

“They aren’t good people either. My dad’s a drunk, my mom’s a pushover. Or she used to be. It started with her doing as he said or she’d get the beating. Then she just started punishing me for no reason when she realized it made him happy.”

Ransom’s hand rested over yours in order to give you some comfort. When you looked up to meet Theodore and Abigail’s eyes they were horrified.

“I’m sorry, I know that’s horrible to hear but it’s the truth. My- our childhoods weren’t pretty.”

“I had Harlan but your mother-“

Theodore shot Ransom a look that let him know he didn’t see you that way.

“Your biological mother.” Ransom corrected but not without shooting a small glare back at Theodore. “Didn’t have anyone that cared for her in her family.”

“I only got into the private school because a teacher in my high school saw I had potential and he knew that the school had scholarships. He worked so hard to help me get in there. Fortunately it was a boarding school so I didn’t have to be at home five days a week or any days if I didn’t want to. It honestly saved my life.”

No one said anything for a few minutes. The food that had been set in front of you was getting colder by the minute.

“Ask another question. It’s ok I promise.” Ransom told Abigail.

“Did you always want to work in fashion?”

Your face lit up then and you nodded.

“Ever since I was little. I learned to sew when I was like 6. Then before she passed away my grandmother gave me a little sewing kit. After that I always fixed the buttons or little rips on my clothes.”

“What about you? What do you two like to do?”

“I like painting and baking mostly. I also love reading.”

“I like photography and I used to play hockey back home.”

Everyone turned to Ransom and waited for his answer.

“I work in publishing.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Did you always want to work as a publisher?”

“I always knew I wanted to follow in granddad’s footsteps. I wanted to be a writer but I don’t really think I’m good enough. Everything I know, I learned from him. So now I work in publishing.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent like that. Asking questions and everyone answering. Little by little Theodore opened up more. By the end of the get together he had even given you his phone number. Abigail immediately created a group chat between the four of you.

“Do you live in New York too?” Theodore asked Ransom.

“Nah, I live in Boston. It’s way better.”

“I heard that.”

“You were meant to.” Ransom shoots back at you.

You roll your eyes but turn to Abigail.

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride?”

“Very sure. But thank you, and for all of this. I’m glad we were able to get together so quickly.” She said as she moved in to hug you.

“Me too, sweetheart.”

Surprisingly Theodore also gave you a hug. You felt a weight lifted off your shoulders, almost as if he was quietly telling you he didn’t hate you. Then they both hugged Ransom and you could see he was fighting back tears.

You and Ransom said your own quick goodbyes and went your separate ways. The reunion went better than expected although you knew they had more questions about what happened while you were pregnant. It was still a very sensitive subject for you to talk about. But you were willing to relive every part of it if it meant they would understand why you did what you did.

Instead of heading home you went into your studio. There were a few pieces that needed your attention and some inspiration had come to you. The studio was empty, just how you liked it. There was no need to turn on the lights yet as the clouds had started to disappear and the afternoon sun was lighting up the room. You turned some music on and went to work in your corner. There were fabric swatches, markers, pencils, a sketch pad and more sitting around the desk as you drew out some new ideas.

The afternoon turned into evening. The studio lights were now on as you fluttered around the open space. A mannequin sitting in the middle of the room with fabric draped over it as you pinned and shaped it to your liking. The music was still blasting and you were singing along happily unaware of your guest.

“I’m glad to see that some things don’t change.” Ransom’s voice echoed in the studio as the song changed. You screamed with fear since you didn’t expect anyone to be there much less watching you. When you turned he had a hand over his heart and his head thrown back in laughter.

“Ransom you can’t just sneak up on people like that.”

“You need to be more aware of your surroundings.” He said as he lowered the volume on the speaker.

“What are you doing here?”

“I called your phone, you didn’t answer. I had a feeling that you’d be working so I took a chance and came here.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

You give a little hum as you continue to work with the last piece of loose fabric.

“Today was intense.” You finally say, knowing that that was the reason he was there. “What do you think about the whole situation?”

“I don’t know what to think. They’re great kids, better than what they would have been if I would have raised them.”

You shake your head in disagreement. “I think you would have been a great dad. You still can be, if you decide to have kids. On purpose this time.”

“I doubt that. I’m not a great person and I’d be an awful father now.”

“Ran, you practically dropped everything to come to the city and meet them. If I would have asked you to come to the city the next day you would have done it. That counts for something.”

He shrugged his shoulders and looked away. He couldn’t handle the sincerity your words held.

“I think they’re hiding something though.”

“Me too.” Ransom agreed.

“And I’m not even sure what’s supposed to happen now. Should we talk with their parents? See if they’re ok with all of this?”

“Adoptive. We’re their parents too.” He corrects you.

“You know what I mean. Technically we signed away our rights, Ransom. I just don’t want there to be a big issue and then we can’t see them again at all.” You looked up from the dress you were working on to see him biting his nail the way he did when he was stressed about something.

You stopped what you were doing and walked over to him and pulled his hand away from his mouth. He in turn pulled your hand toward his lips and placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles. Just like old times, it never failed to put a smile on your face.

“I brought you something.” He mumbled quickly while holding up a gift bag.

You smiled as you walked to the corner you had been working in and pulled something out of the drawer.

“It’s not wrapped but I have something for you too.”

You hold up the gift and he smiles as he hands you the gift he’d brought for you. The bag contained a small glass box and inside there was an antique sewing kit beautifully displayed. You smile fondly as you take in each individual item.

“This is beautiful Ransom, thank you.”

“A sweater? How do you even know my measurements?”

“I googled you and eyeballed it.” You smile proudly as he holds it against himself to show that it in fact will fit.

“It’s amazing and the scarf.”

“I hoped you were still into that. I remember you loved your scarves in high school. I know you love your sweaters in the fall.”

“No, I loved the scarf you made me. I never wore scarves before that.” He corrects and you stare at him.

“Why did you wear it if you didn’t like them?”

“You made it for me. No one had ever really thought about my needs like that or cared about my well being. I still have it, you know.” He admitted the last part with a whisper.

You invaded his space rather quickly and snaked your arms around his midsection. Ransom tensed slightly at the unexpected contact but then relaxed as his arms wrapped around you.

“Our parents really are shit aren’t they?”

“Yup.” He says.

“Promise me that you’ll be there for them. We’ll be better than our parents.”

“Y/N…” he said with a sigh. “I’m not a good person. I would probably be a bad influence for them.”

You pulled back slightly and tilted your head so that you could look at him. The worry in your eyes was enough to make him squirm. No one really ever cared for him the way you did and it always caught him off guard.

“Do you want to be in their lives or not? I want an honest answer and you can take time to think about it.”

“Of course I want to be in their lives. I just think I’m not a good person for teenagers to be around. I’m an asshole.”

“You weren’t an asshole today.”

“I was on my very best behavior.”

“Then be on your best behavior when you’re with them.” You say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“You make it sound easy.”

“It’s not.” You reply while resting your head against his chest again. “You’re going to struggle with it but if you’re serious about being in their lives you’ll try your best and that’s all you can do.”

“You’re so much better at this whole life thing than I am.”

You scoff as you finally pull away from him.

“I’m really not. I throw myself into work because it’s better than trying to have friendships or relationships.”

“Then let’s make a deal.”

You look up at him, curious as to what he’s about to suggest.

“I’ll work on not being such an asshole and you can get some friends.”

“We’re so fucked.” You laugh.

“Yeah, we are. But we’ll do it for the twins.”

“Yeah, we will.”

Ch. 3

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[purringfayestudio]

Just a little note about my art materials.

I DO NOT use real animal fur in my art plush.

If you are already aware, great! You can go about your day. For more info or the reasons for this announcement, read more. (CW frustration, rant. Discussion around real fur vs fake fur and people attacking before they read.)

I am not vegan, but I feel a special level of frustration when people immediately assume I'm using real fur (or worse "dead animals") to make my plushies. Especially when I clearly say I'm using "faux fur" and "fabric" in my posts/captions. Faux means "fake" and real fur (i.e. pelts) is not fabric.

Ignorance is totally fine. Not everyone has access to the knowledge or experience to differentiate real vs fake fur. BUT I expect everyone who comments to be capable of reading the caption first.

Beyond people not reading, though, it's the immediate assumption that I'm a murderer or something, as if realistic things can't possibly be fake. And then sometimes jumping straight into attacking me over it instead of taking four seconds to read what I already wrote about it.

It creates drama where there is none. It's unnecessary, manufactured outrage for no reason. I'm just here to chill and share my fiber arts that I work incredibly hard to make look real, but very much aren't.

I make realistic, FAKE animals so that people who don't want to be irresponsible by cuddling a living (or dead) exotic can still experience holding a realistic replica. Since they're soft and weighted, they are also immensely comforting for anxious or neurodivergent people.

Faux fur gives me the freedom to make any animal, real or not, in virtually any color. Real fur, on the other hand, is prohibitively expensive, limited in "design" and color, and terribly, woefully difficult to sew (it's literally leather under the hairs). Besides I have a moral objection to cutting up pelts to be used for fashion or other non-essential items, except for indigenous or extreme climate cultures.

That said, not all my plush are 100% vegan. Some contain horse hairs as whiskers. These are ethically collected and sourced from a Native American small business. If needed, I can remove them upon buyer's request. At least until I find a synthetic alternative.

So from here out I'll just be weeding out people who act before they read because I'm getting very tired of it across every social media site I'm on. It's like 3-4 comments on every post now, everywhere. I'd assume it was trolls except for how sheepish people act when I reply that it's fake. I should be flattered they think it's real but mostly I'm just tired of fighting drama fires.

Anyhow. Thank you for your time. Let me know if y'all want to see a real vs fake fur educational post. Even if you are vehemently against real fur, it would serve you well to know the difference so you can make educated decisions.

[hapan-in-exile]

Volume 3 - Post #10: Good old-fashioned shootout

Another installment in this ongoing serialized fanfic

Genre: Mandalorian x Fem! Reader

Total word count: 2.6K (of 45K total in Volume 3)

Rating: Explicit - smut, language, +18 *NSFW*

__________________________________________

 X. Unlike the exclusive mooring of Vos’s yacht with HK sentinels, security lights, cameras, and sensors everywhere, the hangar bays in this section of Daiyu Spaceport, where Gwellis Bagnoro’s ship is located, are unnervingly deserted. And you definitely get the impression people are being paid to make themselves scarce. There is no legitimate reason why the corridors need to be this dark. 

You’re glad for the silence, but it feels almost too quiet after the noise and chaos of the city streets. 

You arrive at the hangar expecting to see the Onodone waiting for you, but there’s no one in sight. In fact, it’s eerily still without the usual maintenance crew droids.    

The grim surroundings did not prepare you for the caliber of this forger’s ride. Apparently, Gwellis Bagnoro can find enough suckers like you to pay his outrageous prices because his corvette is in pristine condition. No mismatched parts for his ship. 

Poor Nito usually salvaged everything needed to sustain the Razor Crest through its continual state of repair. 

With containers stacked high on either side of the ship, you’d think the Onodone would need help loading all this cargo. They create a sort of labyrinth around the hangar bay. How did he expect to fit this payload inside a gunship?  

Something feels off. 

Maybe he’s just waiting for you on board? Even as the thought occurs to you, your boot catches on something soft yet solid, and you stumble forward. Looking down to see what you’ve tripped over in the dim haze of the hangar’s overhead lights, you see a station agent crumpled on the flight deck with a knife stuck in his gut. 

“Mando!” you shout.

But it’s too late. You hear a ting of blaster fire right before the fueling tank next to the ship explodes, knocking you off your feet and showering the hangar in flaming debris. You get slammed hard into the side of a cargo container from the force of the blast. Your ears are ringing, your vision is blurring at the edges, but you can still see the onslaught of blaster fire breaking out around you.  

Looking over your shoulder, you see the Mandalorian, who’d managed to stay on his feet. He’s crouched, taking cover behind a diagnostic panel directly in your line of sight, loading his rifle from the bandolier across his chest. 

“Is this Vos?” You shout.

“They’re Guild.”

“The Crest!” 

You’re terrified about what might be waiting for you back at the ship. Mando’s precaution of leaving it docked on a nearby moon didn’t seem so paranoid after all. 

“If they knew where it was, they wouldn’t be waiting for us here.” 

He’s got the rifle up, adjusting the scope.

“Thermal imaging, you said?” 

“What?!”

“In the visor?” He stills the muscles in his shoulders, taking aim. “You said your visor has—”

“Yes,” instantly recognizing what he’s planning. “And night vision. I can adjust the settings.”

“How’s it impact your aim? Still good?”

“Fuck, yes. I have a laser sight” You’re already screwing the barrel attachment onto your blaster.

Mando nods his approval.  

With one shot, he takes out the electrical in the hangar bay so it all shuts down. The lights go out, all the doors fall closed, and the docking clamps thud onto the deck. Through your visor, you can see they’ve got the high ground, hoping to pin you in place until their crew on the deck can flush you out. 

If they were hunting the Child, they wouldn’t shoot to kill. They needed you alive for questioning. 

Well, one of you, at least.

The Mandalorian crouches around the diagnostic panel to take aim at one of the snipers firing down on you from the catwalk overhead. You’re able to hit another gunman positioned above the cockpit. But there’s at least three more of them—two of whom are situated on top of the corvette. 

Should you scale the cargo containers to get a better shot and risk exposing yourself?

“I’m going to—” you call out before you see the Gand bounty hunter launch himself over a stack of containers to bear down on the Mandalorian with a raised halberd. 

Mando’s able to block it with his rifle, but his opponent continues swinging relentlessly. He catches another blow with his vambrace and kicks the legs out from under his attacker.

But the other hunters have flanked him. And there’s more blaster fire coming at him from above. 

You can’t remain here, paralyzed with indecision, so you take a deep breath, sink low, and slip out from behind the container in a lunge, blaster held out in front of you. 

The Gods are kind. Several more hunters charge towards Mando, their backs unguarded as they pass your position. You take them down in quick succession before they can reach him, still grappling with his other attacker. 

Unable to get off another clear shot, you begin climbing the cargo containers. It’s fucking terrifying how readily your brain reverts to autopilot—letting the adrenaline push you forward despite the threat of exposing yourself to sniper fire. You try to retain as much cover as you can, scrambling around the ship’s intake vents. 

Then, you hear the ping-ping-ping of blaster bolts hitting the Beskar armor and forsake all caution, climbing with whatever handhold you can find, fingernails cracked and bleeding. 

There’s a gap between the wing where you can see an opening up to one of the bounty hunters splayed across the exhaust turbine. But you’ll have to step into it to fire. If they look down at you, they’ll have a straight shot, same as you. 

Your heart is pounding against your eardrums. It’s been years since you’ve seen combat like this. You have to drown out the panic and concentrate.

All you can do is prepare your grip, make sure you’re ready on the trigger, and pray they can’t see your movement in the darkness. 

Turns out they can’t. But that first shot, you miss and merely clip their shoulder. Shit! They respond by shooting wildly, a spray of fire that erupts in every direction. Your second shot gets them in the chest, but not before their own blaster takes out the other sniper posted on top of the ship’s sensor array.

Which meant there was only one shooter left. 

You look around to check on Mando. He’s dispatched the rest of his attackers in a pile of bodies strewn across the flight deck. 

That’s when a sharp, lancing pain burns across your scalp. Your hand claps over the side of your head, just above your ear, and you groan as raw, wet tissue squelches under your fingers. That’s how close you came to dying today. Hot blood starts to trickle over your cheek and down your neck. You’ve gotta nail this fucker before you start to grow dizzy.

At the moment, you don’t feel dizzy at all. On the contrary, the pain brought everything into crisp focus. 

You launch yourself off the ship and start running in sporadic bursts and turns as soon as you collide with the ground. Serpentine! You can almost hear your drill sergeant yelling it at you. 

The last shooter is tucked away in an alcove on the other side of the hangar. You can’t be sure—but you think they’re hiding in a tangle of suspended cables and tubing. No way to climb up there without getting gunned down.

Here goes nothing. 

You shoot at the wires holding the whole mess together, and a section of the braided cables collapses to the floor. To the credit of this bounty hunter’s strength and determination, they continue firing at you while dangling from a metal coil one-handed. 

But you’ve got the advantage. All you have to do is wait for your shot. There’s a nasty thud when their limp body falls to the deck. 

Behind you, Mando’s whipcord fires, and hand over fist, he drags a sobbing Trandoshan hunter into his waiting blade. 

“You take care of the others?” He says, wiping the knife on his boot.

“Yeah. We’ll be long gone before they regain consciousness.” You reply, clicking the safety back on and holstering your blaster.

He tilts his helmet from side to side, and an irritated sigh erupts from the modulator.

“Do no harm? I feel like you, of all people, Mando should support the sanctity of my oath.”

“There’s a time and a place—Thulani!”

He cries out in horror when his headlamp falls over the gash sliced across the side of your head. Which stung like hell.  

“Is it bad?”

“I—” his voice chokes in his throat, reaching for your chin. “I can see your skull.”

And immediately, you vomit up all five glasses of Spice liquor onto his boots. 

Fortunately, he’s pretty tough—a hardcore Mandalorian, right?—and despite how disgusting you must look with sick clinging to your lips, he catches you in his arms when you stagger forward.

“Tell me what to do.”

The sound of his voice is so soothing—deep and strong. His muscular arms cradle you, one wrapped around your shoulders while the other surrounds your waist. Solid as iron but gentle, holding you tightly against his chest. 

“This feels pretty good,” you sigh. “I think the adrenaline crash is just—hitting me hard. Will you, um, hold me like this until I finish healing?”  

“Of course. Whatever you need. Anything.”

“I’m sorry I got vomit on you.” Ugh, so embarrassing. He would probably not be in the mood to fuck you after this. “It hasn’t even been a whole day, and I’ve already ruined the mystique.” 

“Fuck the mystique. You’re alive. That’s what matters.”

You shift in his arms to find a perfect little nook for yourself. “I’m definitely seeing the advantage of a helmet now.”

He let out a soft chuckle, “I’ve got some expertise in that area if you’re in the market.”

“Could—could you tell me how it’s going with the—”

“The gigantic gash in your scalp?” Mando scoffs, delicately tugging the visor from your face to get a better look. “I can’t see the bone anymore, but…there’s some…burnt flesh...hanging…open.” 

“Am I at least earning some warrior street cred with this?”

“I told you you didn’t have anything to prove to me,” he says earnestly. “There’s got to be something I can do?”

“Just hold me.”

His arms tighten around you.

“It’s gonna look like I’m gone for a minute,” you whisper. “But I promise I’ll still be here with you. Okay?”

He nods.

You let your head rest against his neck, then close your eyes, take a deep breath, and call upon that feeling of surety. When the you that was you disappeared and was subsumed by the infinite. That pulse of power surging through every fiber of your being.

Don’t let yourself get distracted by the throbbing shock of the wound as it seals shut. Or the searing heat as the tissue reconnects. Or just how thick Mando's biceps are...

All those tiny nerve endings that had to be repaired. You can’t make the hair regrow, but vanity is like the least of your worries at the moment.

Okay. Yes. There. That should do it. 

Now, what you really need is a fuck ton of electrolytes. 

“You can let me go,” you open your eyes and smile up at the Mandalorian.

“No,” he says, pulling you closer.

“Mando, we can’t flee the scene glued together.”

“Don’t care,” he murmurs from somewhere in your thicket of blood smattered, vomit crusted hair. Aw, is the Mandalorian going soft on you?

Suddenly, the whoosh of the corvette’s boarding ramp echoes throughout the hangar, causing you both to turn and draw. 

“Don’t shoot!” The Onodone inches his way down the ramp with his hands extended, the vocodor swinging from his neck. “They got here right before you did. There was nothing I could do!”

“That’s as may be,” you march up the ramp with your blaster not exactly aimed at Gwellis, though not precisely lowered either. “But I tell you what. I’m willing to let you make it up to me.”

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

“I didn’t expect you’d be such a tough negotiator.”

“After he sold us out? Like hell, I was going to pay fifty-thousand fucking credits.”

“Alright, but making him hold the mirror while you stuck that needle in your eye? That’s cold-blooded.”

Without the reflective tissue, your eyes no longer glow with a violet sheen. To all the galaxy, you would appear to be an unremarkable human woman. 

But Mando had been right. As you removed the guanine from your cells, it felt like stripping away your identity piece by piece. The last remaining connection to your homeworld.

The Mandalorian might have chosen to forsake that little boy, the man he would have been—but you found you couldn’t. So you’d left some tissue under the lenses in the hopes that one day you might be able to coax it back to regrowth. If anyone asked, you could claim the faint remaining glimmers were the result of some kind of chemical exposure.

Would Mando think you’re a fool for holding on to the past? How had he—

But he hadn’t let go of the past either. 

You wouldn’t be able to see those memories if he’d really let go of who and what he was before, like he claimed. And while it might not be conscious, intentional resistance to his Creed, it proved that oaths and tenets can’t change what’s in your heart.

 “Whatever,” you jeer. “He can go cry into his money.”

“We don’t know it was Gwellis,” the Mandalorian shook his head. “It could have been any one of Vos’s henchmen. Someone who recognized me at the club. Or Bril, for that matter.”

“I like Bril!” You raise an eyebrow at him. “You need more people in your life who aren't afraid to make a joke at your expense.”

His helmet turns to look at you, and you can just sense his indignation. 

“If you’re rolling your eyes at me, Mando, I can’t see.” You smirk. “Besides, you had the entire populace of Daiyu City buzzing the moment you set foot planetside. You knew we would catch heat before we even made it to the club.” 

And nothing has changed. Making your way back through the concourse, his gleaming armor draws the same stares and excited whispers. “Gwellis is right. Subterfuge is not ‘the Way’ of a Mandalorian. I’m beginning to think you welcome everything ending in a shootout.”

“It’s a lot more straightforward than spending the next two weeks pretending to be...” he grabs the newly made ID from your hands. “Kasya Hawat?”

“Something tells me Mandalorians don’t engage in a lot of intelligence gathering either.” You pull off the wig you wore for the ID photos and toss it in a nearby bin. 

“That’s why I pay informants.”

“Touché,” you concede. “It’ll be worth it, though. We need someone on the inside, and we don’t know Ubaa Dir’s people. That could change. But for now, my circle of trust doesn’t extend past Team Razor Crest.” 

This last part, you say more to yourself than the bounty hunter. You’re not exactly thrilled about the prospect of working as an exploited minion for the Tagge Corporation, living in some squatter’s settlement attached to a refinery in the middle of nowhere.

“Worth pulling out those gems embedded in your teeth?” He asks wryly.

“I’m thinking Kasya’s backstory includes working in a Zeltron pleasure house during her prodigal wanderings.” You wink at him, “I might even be able to keep the moondust hair.”

**********************

Keep reading - Post 11: Well, Hell's Bells

Back to Volume 3 - all posts

[cherrylng]

Bad Taste Fashion!? [STYLE Series #004 - Muse (August 2010)]

Be more outrageous, or be stylish! Learn the secrets of extreme fashion from the pioneers of the UK rock world

Text: Yoko Shintani

In 2009, Muse became a regular at music events. They have been lauded everywhere, from the Q Awards to BRIT, where they won the prestigious “Best Artist in the World Today” award, to being listed as one of the nominees for “Worst of the Best.” The problem was, of course, Matt Bellamy's fashion sense.

Although he narrowly missed out on the award, he was in the running for “NME Awards' Worst Dressed” along with Liam Gallagher, Ellie Jackson (La Roux), and Katy Perry (the winner was Lady Gaga). While his love of fashion is evident, both on stage and in his personal life, his taste is risqué . His taste for light, red, white, or high-contrast coordinates such as red and white or black and white, tailored jackets, uniform designs, sporty and cyber-inspired details, and thoroughly super-slim shapes……. None of these tastes are weird on their own, but when they all come together on a matte canvas, they present a strangely strong and cloying bad taste, which is a sad state of affairs. Incidentally, at the “NME” Awards ceremony, he wore a black-and-white polka-dot shirt, a silver-grey suit, and a hot black-and-white tweed coat over it. He must have really liked it since he wore the same coat to last year's “Q” Awards ceremony. However, wearing the same coat twice at an awards event is a total no-no.

However, the British rock scene, which has been led by art school graduates, has always had a taste for the kind of sleaze that makes it impossible to determine whether it is stylish or grotesque. Looking back over the past 40 years or so, it goes without saying that the 70s stand out in terms of sheer eccentricity and ferocity. With glam rock and the two stars of the scene, Marc Bolan and David Bowie, the boundaries between men and women quickly blurred, and all the rules of Western male dress were broken down, with hair and makeup becoming completely unisex. Bowie, in particular, actively collaborated with Kansai Yamamoto and other designers to create an even more out-of-this-world image by playing the fictional character “Ziggy Stardust.“ On the other hand, in Roxy Music, which was also a leading glam rock band at the time of its debut, it was not frontman Bryan Ferry but Brian Eno, who was in charge of synthesisers, who experimented with outlandish fashions.

“Dom and Matthew at the NME Awards ceremony on 24 February 2010. While Dom is neatly dressed, Matthew wears a tweed coat with a slightly different length and broader shoulders, a half-size grey suit, and a polka-dot shirt that is out! The magnetic necklace-like chain and the Aki at the collar are also out of step with current trends. The coat seems to be his favourite, and he wears it to the Q Awards ceremony as well as when travelling to and from the Big Day Out. His hair is a bit flat, and his shoes are a bit off-putting, giving off a sense of carelessness but also a strong sense of commitment. pic: Dave Hogan / Getty Images”

He wore a kimono-like dress that would put Bowie to shame, or was adorned with feathers and lamé, and stood on stage in a manner that is hard to imagine from his recent appearance as a master producer. Speaking of unimaginable nowadays, Peter Gabriel of the Genesis era, who belonged to the progressive rock music genre, was another example. He borrowed his wife's long dress and other outlandish costumes from the neck down, but his head was particularly striking, and his “flower” costume with flower petals surrounding his face is perhaps the most famous. Other than that, he was also good at wearing alien makeup that looked like it came out of a sci-fi movie, or wearing a stuffed fox's head on his head……

Another person who should not be forgotten is Elton John. Although Elton John has come out and is now enjoying dressing up openly, at the time he was venting his repressed sexuality in a fashion that was a comical interpretation of glam. And Queen, who had a huge influence on Muse musically, reigned as the leader (!) of rock fashion in the post-glam era. The late Freddie Mercury, in particular, tried his hand at many risqué styles, such as jumpsuits, ballet tights, bare-chested and sleeveless, etc……

Later, with the rise of punk, UK rock once again became stoic, but regained its splendour in the 80s. The New Romantic & Goth era had arrived. Although the two groups have contrasting tastes in colour, with the former using extreme colours and the latter monotone, they share the same androgynous fashion orientation, with glam rock as their main source of inspiration. From Culture Club and Adam & the Ants to Siouxsie and the Banshees and Alien Sex Fiend, each eccentric artist heralded the end of the century. The visual and sonic tastes of that era are, as we all know, undergoing a major revival, with young pop stars such as Adam Lambert, Lady Gaga, KE$HA, and others all looking to Bowie, Queen, and Boy George as role models. Without them, the world would be a very boring place!

Therefore, Matt's bad taste is also adorable when you look down the lineup of UK rock's most eccentric dressers. And in his case, it is his personality, the reset, the lighting, and the music that is the star on stage, not what he wears that matters so much to his fans. And yet, the discrepancy between Muse's musicality and his solid character, which lacks femininity or campness, and his glittery, watery clothing is truly bizarre, and what's more, the sparkly glitter is also extremely half-baked. The clothes show an extraordinary attention to detail, but the makeup is a complete waste of time, and the haircut is a bit careless. If you are going to do something like this, go for a Freddie-style fashion like Justin Hawkins of The Darkness, or go all out with the long hair and dreads, or paint your face like Peter Gabriel, or work with an interesting designer to provide futuristic costumes that synchronise with the stage direction, go Freaky and go for it. Then we won't be bothered by petty discussions about the worst-dressed. Or hire a competent stylist to help you find a simple suit that suits you. In the meantime, even though Freddie loved it, red-and-white coordination is too difficult and should be avoided. I'm probably not the only one who irresistibly thinks of the uniforms of the Japanese Olympic team……………….

This is the rumoured ‘Flower Man’, Peter Gabriel's stage costume from his time with Genesis. It's funny because he was very serious about it. After leaving the band in 1975 and going solo, he became very ordinary.

Brian Eno at the time he was in Roxy Music. His forehead was rising, but he wore a lot of make-up and wore his hair long. All of them wore flamboyant outfits with spacy decorations on their shoulders, etc.

Sir Elton John, who now wears an ordinary suit and flashy tie, used to take the world by storm with his huge ornate glasses and flamboyant outfits. He is a drag queen in every sense of the word!

Freddie Mercury, the king or queen of the bizarre = Queen. The familiar full-body tights costumes were originally designed by Zandra Rhodes. From kimono-style dresses with a daring take on Japanese kimonos to cross-dressing, you name it! pic : Koh Hasebe

Adam and the Ants' Adam Ant pioneered the New Romantic movement of the 1980s and stole the hearts of girls. His unique ‘pirate fashion’, with its elaborate hair and make-up, was imitated by his fans.

Translator's Notes: I do find Matt's taste in fashion to be... quite interesting at times. But in all honesty, I'm neutral to his fashion tastes, given that I use his clothes, accessories, and even his hairstyle to pin down on the correct eras whenever I reblog Muse posts lmao

And also, Freddie's fashion is always 150% fierce AF. As for Adam Ant, him looking like a slutty pirate trying to seduce the Royal Navy to chase after him is just his default appearance since the 80s.

[haveihitanerve]

Everytime I see sams training montage I get so happy and i'm like ‘yeah! Get it!’ Buy at the same time I can’t help but imagine Bucky in tHe background laughing his ass off when the shield doesn’t bounce back and Sam now has to jog and grab it. Or him cackling when Sam does a flip and doesn’t catch it and goes ‘you have to be extra don’t you. Just focus on catching the damn thing first’ or running past him screaming ‘on your right falcon! Come on! You can run faster than that!’ Sitting on him when he does push ups. Having a push up contest and cheating and trying to push him over. Also encouraging him nicely y'know but just. Bonding. Ribbing. Good old fashioned brotherly best friend insults and teasing and messing up his hair. Stuff like that. Cmon marvel. 

Cheering when he catches it. Screaming in outrage when Sam runs faster than him. Moaning and groaning about ‘oh my back I can’t I’m an elderly citizen’ when Sam does a flip and he can’t do one. Going ‘ahh shit! Holy shit yeah! That’s what I’m talking about!!!” And hugging or high fiving him when sam walks into the kitchen like ‘I just did it. I did a flip and caught it’ 

Also they should totally have had a scene where they try to throw the football and catch it while jumping in the pool but with the shield y'know. That would’ve been so funny. 

[literaticat]

Hello. Just wondering what you think of the current "Roald Dahl re-write" controversy.

Hahaha I have a lot of feelings. Some of them you probably won't like? IDK.

First of all, lemme just say, Roald D was an anti-Semitic asshole, a notoriously difficult and bad man, his books are mean-spirited and rankle me, I really don't give a fig about him or his books or his legacy, and I'd never give them to a child.

(I wouldn't stop a child from reading one if they wanted to, either! I wouldn't BAN them! It's fine with me that they EXIST and are readily available for anyone who wants to read them! I just personally would not spend my money to present a child with a copy of one of his books, I think there are better things to read that I'd rather gift.)

So if you were under a rock and you didn't hear this latest "outrage", evidently the Roald Dahl estate + the UK publisher decided to do an update to a bunch of his books removing some of the particularly egregious language around things like minorities, fat people, etc. Some of the coverage of this makes it sound like they removed vast swathes of text, essentially rewriting the books. Which would obviously be insane if true. But it's not true. The changes are, as the estate put it, "small and carefully considered." There might be hundreds in total, but if they are tweaks to words across dozens of books - that's really not very many?

Anyway lots of authors are decrying it as CENSORSHIP!!!!! In my opinion... that is a little dramatic. First of all - censorship would be if they redacted the language without the permission of the rights holder. That is not the case. The rights holder is very much on board here - presumably because they know that the language is old-fashioned at best and OFFENSIVE at worst, and they just signed a many-million dollar contract with Netflix! And I'm sure they would like people to NOT boycott those Netflix projects and continue to buy the books!

It would also be censorship if somebody rounded up all old copies and destroyed them, preventing people from ever experiencing the text as originally published. But that's not happening. There are literally MILLIONS of copies of these books in print. They are SO available we could all build houses out of them. Nobody is taking anything away here.

Additionally -- this happens ALL THE TIME. All! The! Time!!!! Mind you -- MOST books just go out of print and are forgotten. But books that are lucky enough to stay in print for decades are often updated / tweaked to reflect changing cultural mores, etc.

For examples: In the 1930's, Nancy Drew was 16 years old and carried a gun. In the 1950's, they realized that was not going over well anymore, so they changed all her stories to make her 18 with no gun.

In the 1970's, Margaret of ARE YOU THERE GOD fame wore a "sanitary belt" for her period. I read these books in the early 80's and was like "wtf???" -- well, in the late 80s, they changed it to pads.

Oh, and also, in early editions of CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY, the Oompa-Loompas were Black pygmies from a tribe in Africa! They changed them to orange fantasy creatures later, because guess what, people were weirded out about it.

While it's true that Roald D himself made/approved that change (presumably because somebody back in the day told him, "yo, you are going to get a LOT of money from Hollywood if you make this change" and he realized it was true) -- he's dead. If he were alive, he'd probably have the same convo, and people would say "yo, Netflix is giving you millions of dollars, apologize for the hatred you spewed and change some words or your deal is toast." -- And he'd have done it, just like he did the first time. Since he's dead, his heirs made that decision. Which they are fully allowed to do.

Most of the time, literary executors of author's estates are trying to do the most lucrative things for that estate; they have a fiduciary responsibility to do so. That being said - if you feel strongly that after your death your books must be frozen in amber and never changed a bit, never sold to Hollywood / adapted for stage or TV or film, never sold into foreign countries where words change in translation all the time -- then let your heirs / executors know that explicitly, they DO NOT have permission to agree to any of this. And the books will likely just go out of print, and sink into oblivion.

ETA: Are these changes really being done because of concern for children's "delicate" brains, or "cancel culture gone mad"? ... OR, is it a somewhat cynical cash-grab to ensure that a multi-million dollar Netflix deal doesn't go down the tubes? Probably the latter!

But also, that isn't censorship. Creators and their estates are allowed to grab cash if it is offered, and can change or not change things as they will. They are the rights holders.

--

ETA ETA: I also should have mentioned a similar case from a couple years back: In 2021, the Seuss estate elected to *stop* publishing certain titles that contained racial and ethnic stereotypes. (And also - those particular books were among his least popular and they were not losing anything by making that decision, they make a billion dollars off his other books, and actually that news made his books SKYROCKET in sales, but whatever). It would not surprise me AT ALL if this hand-wringing news actually causes a big spike in Dahl sales.

[fashionbooksmilano]

Jean Paul Gaultier

Colin McDowell

Cassell Paperback, London 2001, 144 pages, paperback, 23,5x26,5cm, ISBN 9781841881645

email if you want to buy : booksinprogressmilano@yahoo.it

euro 50,00

Jean-Paul Gaultier is fashion’s polymath. His name is a byword for outrageous, witty and even revolutionary fashion. As a designer, a TV star and gay icon he has used his subversive sense of humour to make us question our attitudes towards sex, social values and cultural morality. But it would be wrong to assume that he is merely the court jester of the international fashion world. He has never failed to produce collections of total originality that inspire as much as they shock. He has been designing for twenty years, and never once has he followed the fashion: he has never been anything less than revolutionary. Colin McDowell, in this authorized, in-depth book, explores how this has happened.

[beardedmrbean]

LOS ANGELES — The day she was set to receive an award recognizing her work promoting inclusivity and social justice, Lizzo was again sued by a former employee who said that behind the scenes, the entertainer allows bullying, harassment and racial discrimination. 

“I felt like I was living in a madhouse,” fashion designer Asha Daniels, 35, told NBC News the day before she filed her lawsuit against Lizzo and other members of the singer’s team. “It was totally shocking.”

“I was listening to this Black woman on this huge stage have this message of self-love and caring for others and being empathetic and being strong and standing up for others,” she said. “And I was witnessing myself, the dancers and the background vocalists and my local team in every city be harassed and bullied regularly.”

The suit, filed Thursday by lawyers for Daniels in Los Angeles County Superior Court, accused wardrobe manager Amanda Nomura of doing stereotypical impressions of Black women, referring to the performers as “fat,” “useless” and “dumb,” and forcing them to change in front of a mostly white, male stage crew who would “lewdly gawk” at them, the suit says.

Daniels was fired after she complained about Nomura, according to the suit.

“Lizzo is the boss, so the buck stops with her,” Daniels’ lawyer, Ron Zambrano, said in a statement Thursday. 

Zambrano, the lawyer for three former dancers who accused Lizzo of sexual harassment and a hostile work environment in a lawsuit last month, echoed allegations made in Daniels’ suit, saying Lizzo “has created a sexualized and racially charged environment on her tours that her management staff sees as condoning such behavior, and so it continues unchecked.”

Lizzo has previously said that although she has to make difficult decisions, “it’s never my intention to make anyone feel uncomfortable or like they aren’t valued as an important part of the team.”

Thursday’s suit alleged sexual harassment, racial discrimination, failure to prevent a hostile work environment and other accusations. Nomura was named as a defendant, as was Lizzo, whose real name is Melissa Viviane Jefferson, her production company, Big Grrrl Big Touring Inc., and her tour manager, Carlina Gugliotta.

Representatives for Lizzo did not immediately reply to a request for comment. Gugliotta did not immediately respond to a request for comment. Attempts to reach Nomura were unsuccessful.

Lizzo has denied the previous allegations, calling the dancers’ accounts “sensationalized stories” that were false and “outrageous.”

Lizzo is set to be honored Thursday with the Black Music Action Coalition’s Quincy Jones Humanitarian Award for her philanthropic work and commitment to social justice, the group said in a news release.

“She has been a longtime advocate for inclusivity and uses her music to empower marginalized groups to promote diversity,” the release said.

Valuing female empowerment

Daniels first worked for Lizzo in September 2022, designing custom clothing for her dancers, and was hired early this year to tour with the performer, the lawsuit said.

Daniels said that she had been friendly with Nomura, and that she was thrilled to work for someone whose values of female empowerment she shared.

“As a Black woman myself, I love when I see Black women that have a big stage that use that stage to uplift us,” she said.

According to the suit, Daniels’ worked seven days a week, from 6 a.m. to 2 a.m. and was told to work even after she injured her ankle. 

Nomura told Daniels never to interact with Lizzo or to dress attractively in front of her because it may make Lizzo jealous, the suit said. Even though she was taken aback by the comment — “Lizzo is beautiful, she’s talented, she’s got an amazing career, she has no reason to be jealous of anyone,” Daniels told NBC News — she said she followed the rule and never spoke to Lizzo.

Privacy concerns

The dancers were forced to change in front of Lizzo’s stage crew, most of whom were white men who would “lewdly gawk, sneer, and giggle while watching the dancers rush through their outfit changes,” the suit alleged. 

When Daniels complained to Nomura that the dancers had no privacy, Nomura allegedly told her not to alert anyone else to the matter, according to the suit.

Daniels was scolded for providing new stockings to dancers after they damaged their clothing while performing and was “specifically instructed to not give certain dancers panties, mirrors, or items they would need and ask for, despite those items being stocked,” the suit said. The suit did not indicate why. 

Alleged slurs, threats and offensive impressions

Nomura allegedly mocked Lizzo and her dancers with what the lawsuit described as a “stereotypical sassy Black woman imitation.” Daniels told her the imitations were offensive, the suit said, and Nomura ignored her.

Nomura also appeared to threaten employees, according to the suit. On one occasion, she used a slur and said she would “kill” anyone who put her job in jeopardy, the suit said.

After Daniels complained to Gugliotta, Lizzo’s tour manager, she allegedly asked Daniels to surreptitiously record Nomura, according to the suit.

Daniels declined, believing it would be unethical and possibly illegal, and continued to work for Lizzo, according to the suit.

Sexually charged complaints

When they traveled to Amsterdam, she heard managers discussing hiring sex workers for lewd sex acts, attending sex shows and buying hard drugs, according to the suit.

Daniels said she did not attend the events. The lawsuit filed last month on behalf of three former dancers describes one of those dancers going to an Amsterdam strip club, Bananaenbar, and accuses Lizzo of encouraging cast members to engage with performers and pressuring the dancer to touch one of them.   

The dancer repeatedly declined, according to the suit, but relented after Lizzo allegedly led a chant goading her to do so.

Daniels’ suit also alleged that a manager texted a sexually graphic image to more than two dozen people.

“No one from LIZZO’s management team addressed this graphic sexual imagery in the workplace appropriately,” the suit said.

In February, Daniels told the tour manager, Gugliotta, about what the suit called “widespread racial and sexual harassment” taking place on tour. She was fired weeks later, on March 6, the same day she said Nomura scolded her for taking a break after an allergic reaction, the suit said.

Daniels told NBC News she learned of her termination via a plane ticket in her email.

The tour manager later told Daniels that “everyone” was aware Nomura was “crazy” and apologized several times but said it would be too difficult to replace Nomura, the suit said. The manager told Daniels that Nomura wanted her “gone” for speaking up, according to the suit.

Although Daniels had come to view her working conditions as increasingly hopeless, she said, she was stunned about her removal. She had been committed to staying for her relationships with the dancers and others who she said weren’t getting the support they deserved.

The firing was especially stunning, Daniels added, because she said Gugliotta had nothing but praise for her designs.

Afterward, Daniels said, the manager asked if she would continue doing design work for the dancers — an offer Daniels said she accepted because of her relationships with the performers and because she didn’t want them wearing mass-produced leotards purchased online, a “highly disrespectful” option Daniels said they’d previously been given.

While working for Lizzo and in the months that followed, Daniels suffered lingering physical and psychological problems, including anxiety and impaired vision, according to the suit. She said she previously considered suing Lizzo over what she described as the most toxic work environment she’d ever experienced, but she came forward only after learning of last month’s lawsuit.

“Not only do they deserve for me to stand up for them, but I also deserve to stand up for myself,” she said. “Twenty-five-year-old Asha deserves someone to stand up for her.”

Daniels’ plea to Lizzo and her managers now, she said, is to take the performer’s values of love and support seriously.

“Black women deserve to work in spaces where we feel safe, where we aren’t being harassed, where we aren’t being sexualized," she said. “We’re allowed to just be great and work hard, and be treated the way that everyone else is allowed to be treated."