#this makes me less insecure about my own height in a weird way

[btnclmrttn]

Hey!! How are you doing? 🥰 It's me again.

Came to request some opm four horseman hugging HC if it's fine with you! (Like how they cuddle n stuff)

Thanks u!

thanks for asking! I've been wanting to do one of these for a minute! Threw in PDA hcs too

Hugs and Cuddles HCS

~~~~

Saitama

Dudes awkward at first. Hasn't done this before but gets the hang of it in his own weird way. When it comes to hugs and cuddles, he is the same energy to you as Genos is to him.

Hugs are snug, to say the least. He can get a little carried away, of course entirely unintentional. So usually can end up being bear hugs

If you're shorter or tall he picks you up in hugs, he don't care. He's showing off.

PDA is a bit new to him. He worries he's going to get looks for being with you as it is (you're effortlessly good looking, and he's just bald. my boy insecure). He'll play along if you initiate but it might take a while for him to be comfortable doing the same

He can't go to bed without cuddles. If you're busy late in the night he'll sit in the futon pouting more and more until you come with him.

He wants to be squished. You get trapped in an embrace on top of him usually. He'll roll over on top of you if you try to escape and smush his face in your chest. And he likes being a little spoon sometimes!

He is just clingier than he will admit. Very precious baby

Genos

Cuddle monster fr he cannot get enough of you. Has zero problems with initiating physical contact in any way

Super careful considering how he's just solid metals and you're a tender, squishy baby. When it's safe he likes to lay more on you and have you play with his hair

And he's always hugging you. Clingy little mf. You get trapped with affection often. Can get smothering sometimes! He just needs your attention is all

He picks you up a little if you're shorter in a hug. If you're taller he wants to be picked up. He won't tell you that just do it

PDA is without a question. He doesn't see why it should be its own term. Is lost if he's not holding your hand. He doesn't want any surprise attacks to separate you two so it's mostly a paranoia thing

Like Saitama, he silently refuses to go to bed without cuddles. He will make the futon and sit in it, then stare. He will stare at you, eventually if you're taking a while he will start getting closer. You haven't learned what happens if he gets too close yet.

Best personal heater. Loves spooning you closely, or holding you to his chest. Nothing less than qualified Cuddles, pillows and blankets for you, babe

If you can dig having a second shadow, this the boy for you. Once he starts, he can't stop.

Sonic

The most baby of them all. Always all up on you, talking. Like he can't hold a single conversation without touching you

He likes putting his hands on your waist/tummy, so his hugs usually are with holding you there. Very gentle, unless he's messing around. He'll squeeze you tighter and tighter until you say stop

Your height makes a difference in how he hugs. He's more gentle if you're shorter and more playful if you're taller. Asserting dominance you could say

PDA can be weird for him. Light PDA. He doesn't like those couples in public that are overly on top of each other. That's a private sort of affection to him. He stares judgementally

Dudes a little spoon, no question about it. He likes you under an arm like a half hug. At times he has fallen asleep completely crooked with him laying his head on your stomach and holding one of your legs

He can and will go to bed without you just take your time. He fucking tired

Biggest hugger, loves the tummy

Garou

Has a hard time initiating any form of physical affection fr but he'll cave if he's needy. It's the asking part. He just sort of pushes himself into it and waits to see if you're not in the mood or reject it

Typically they're gentle and sweet unless he's fooling around, then he's bear hugging the life out of you

Assuming you're shorter he usually hunches into his hugs, like making a shield around you so no one else takes you away. If you're taller he likes hiding his face in you when hugging, and holds you tightly.

Actually doesn't mind PDA. People can mind their fucking business. You're his. So what? Cling to him he don't give a shit

He lays on top of you usually when you both aren't doing anything or going to bed. Sometimes you end up rolling around and changing positions but it's not uncommon he stays on top of you like that all night. Either he's on top or you are

You can't ever get out of cuddles. No way. Even if you're mad, or upset, eventually you're getting pulled to his chest and held like it's the last he ever will.

Your touch is his self medication for any inconvenience big or small

[deathgamegirl]

Ranmaru Kageyama's Struggle with Co-Dependency: An Analysis

in the (relatively) short amount of time that ranmaru was on screen in chapter 3-1 of your turn to die, he became attached to sara to the point of obsession. even with how insecure he was in his own capabilities, he recklessly devoted his entire existence to her, seeing her as someone to be saved and protected at all costs. naturally, this kind of behavior is unhealthy and even disturbing from an outside perspective, but further inspection reveals that there's more to it than just incel-adjacent behavior for its own sake- when you look at the kind of actions that ranmaru takes in sara's name, it becomes clear that he struggles heavily with co-dependency.

naturally, there will be spoilers for your turn to die under the cut, as well as discussions of mental health.

co-dependency is, at its core, an intense, unhealthy longing to be needed by other people. while their intentions are genuinely well-meaning, the way that they go about helping other people is harmful to both parties, especially themselves. rather than addressing the core of a problem, they may cover for the poor behavior and choices of the other party, or take action to suppress an issue rather than solving it. however, what's important to note is that co-dependency is like an addiction: the co-dependent individual becomes so attached to the satisfaction they get by "saving" others that they disregard their own problems entirely.

by looking at ranmaru's actions and words in 3-1 from its beginning to its conclusion, we can see how dependent he becomes on "saving" sara, both in the emotions route and in the logic route. i'll be looking at his introduction and then his actions right before the fight with maple 2.0 in both routes.

from the moment that ranmaru is introduced to us, he already displays high levels of insecurity. the first choice that the player can make at this point has two options that reflect the co-dependent behaviors regarding fear of abandonment and needing recognition.

if sara chooses to remain silent, ranmaru will say:

"S-Say somethin'… this is awkward."

and if sara requests a trade, he'll object with:

"Huh? Damn, don't reject me immediately!!"

he already needs sara to acknowledge his presence. since they're going to be partnered up, he's already been set up to get attached to her, and being ignored or rejected would set off panic in him fast. co-dependent individuals feel a need to be appreciated more than is ever healthy, after all.

there's also the choice in dialogue where he awkwardly asks if it's okay to be on a first name basis. in each dialogue option, there's a line that indicates that he feels guilty for even asking the question or for sticking up for himself.

if sara says it's fine, he'll respond with:

"You sure? You aren't gonna come to me later saying you were actually my senior?"

if sara requests that he use her last name, he says the following lines:

"No, wait, why do you get to call me that?! That's weird, right?!" "Ah… right… No, well, look, we can just use each other's first names, right? Less of a pain…"

and then if sara demands that he call her "mistress", he'll respond with the following self-deprecating quote:

"You're just wanting to make fun of me for my height, aren't you…"

he pretty clearly doesn't trust his own emotions, needs, and comforts beyond appeasing sara, even at this early stage.

this gradually descends into ranmaru either trying (and failing) to overwrite his identity with the joe AI in the emotions route, or killing the remaining yabusame sibling in the logic route, both actions meant to be sara's salvation. he disregards any consequences that might befall him for taking either action, believing wholly that it would save the person that he's closest to in that moment.

in the emotions route, after he gets caught by midori, he remarks that:

"Dammit… I can't be anything after all… So… I at least wanted to be Sara's salvation…"

this is a very on-the-nose point that he is, for lack of a better term, addicted to being sara's savior. again, this is the key trait that co-dependent individuals struggle with.

then, in the logic route, he says a line with a similar meaning after killing either alice or reko:

"This is the only way left to save Sara…!"

again, saving sara is brought up. he isn't addressing the actual root of the issue, instead applying what may as well be a band-aid over a bullet hole in a misguided attempt to help her. in particular, he's also more outwardly aggressive in this route after he gets thwarted, which is a result of him being prevented from being sara's "benefactor", so to speak.

whatever may have caused ranmaru to develop co-dependent tendencies, it's important to note that it is a learned behavior brought on by repeated instances. whether he had a bad home life, was abused by his classmates, or anything else, he learned from those around him to put himself at the very back of the line. and realizing that, it becomes all the more tragic that things turned out this way for him and sara, because it was likely unavoidable in their present circumstances. i'd say that we can only hope things can improve, but... unless ranmaru gets another doll body to inhabit, i doubt that he'll even get the chance.

for reference, i used this article from mental health america as source to help me word my points, as well as pulling from my own past experience with co-dependency. i also pulled quotes directly from the the game transcripts on the yttd wiki.

[sunjaesol]

love, between the shadow and the soul

chenford | drabble | post-canon | title: sonnet xvii - pablo neruda

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Look, Tim Bradford did not get attracted to rookies, okay? In all the years he had been a TO, none had grabbed his attention. Not when he and Isabelle were dating, or married, or when she disappeared into the night with a trail of illicit affairs and a shot of heartache for him. Dozens of young women had sat in that car beside him and never ever had he let their femininity distract him. He served his country. He fought wars overseas. He looked Death right in the eye every single day and never blinked.

But then came officer Lucy Chen. He instantly knew the type of cop she’d be the second she turned in her seat, meeting his gaze for the first time, and nervously smiled at him. Nerves were normal, he was aware, but the doe-eyed look and the hopeful grin sold her out. No mystery. Just another young cop that would either slip through the cracks by the exam by tanking their grade due to stress, or she’d become a desk duty cop — one that stayed far from danger, that handled life with a perpetual softer touch ‘cause of her shrink parents.

Nothing wrong with that, Bishop would chastise him. Every cop had its use, she’d add. Sure, that might be true, but Tim didn’t want to babysit an armed toddler waiting for it to cry and call for mom. With just a couple well-placed Tim-tests, she’d be out of his hair in no time and then he could cross his fingers for a better recruit in the following weeks.

Life had the ability to change in a snap though — their funny, yet stern reminder that the universe called the shots, not the gun in his holster, or the rulebook. He got shot. Officer Chen backed him up. Her stubborn, yet brazen, yet honest attitude reeled him in just enough to ignore her little quirks she always joyfully displayed in the shop. Whenever he didn’t nip her ramblings in the bud fast enough, she babbled on and on about her personal life, her personal issues and relationships, like they were best friends (They weren’t! Boots and him never befriended!), like their relationship was anything more than a transactional training period. They got each other’s six. That was it.

But fuck, man. She got under his skin, too.

Lucy wore this… really nice perfume. A lot of female officers had make-up and perfume on, allowed a small sliver of self-expression, and he and Lopez had spend countless hours in a shop together. He was used to it. But somehow, Lucy’s stuck in his nose and didn’t leave. He felt like a creep, thinking about the blend of cardamom and oranges and cherry blossoms mixing with her warm skin, uncontrollable while also wanted. He wanted to fantasise about that fucking perfume of hers, a realisation that took a long time to come to terms with.

That didn’t mean he liked her though — he quickly corrected himself the first time he caught the pattern of behaviour — all it meant was that Lucy had good taste in perfume. Case closed.

So why did he linger whenever her shimmery eyes flicked up at him, why did his breath catch in his throat when her voice dropped to that infuriating sincerity as she uttered words of appraisal? Why his heart go haywire when she recorded all those audio books for him; an out of line gesture and overzealous task for a boot, which would normally result in him laughing their face.

Tim never thought he’d get over Isabelle, nor did he ever believe he’d have his happily ever after with Rachel, but with Lucy he foolishly hoped for more. A more that came from such a stupid and deluded place, probably fostered through months of loneliness and the Pavlovian response to her perfume, but one he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop it. The man was always in control about everything, ran his own tests and went over every possible outcome every day, every hour — and yet he didn’t see her coming. Lucy Chen had been right under his nose and he hadn’t been prepared for the ground to disappear beneath his feet; something that should honestly get him fired. The callousness of his emotions while entertaining the idea of a relationship with his own boot sentenced him straight to P2 or desk duty, or whatever.

Lucy deserved someone better, anyway.

Someone that understood her love for sage and cleansing homes. Someone that liked veggie burgers, chai lattes, karaoke nights and social media lurking. Someone that wouldn’t hesitate for one second to open her door for a teenage girl in need of safety and a little bit of that Chen-love. Someone that wasn’t any of those firemen assholes, but wasn’t Tim either.

He never let his insecurities get the best of him, but after seeing her thrive as a P2 without him, handling undercover stints like a pro, conquering her trauma of being buried alive, it only showcased that she had more bravery in her index finger than some army members had in their entire body, all while staying innately kind. Of course Tim lost his mind over her. Of course he tried shaping officer Barnes to be more like Lucy — more sun and bite and charisma, less army BS. Of course, of course, of course. Even Rosalind, the person he hated most besides Caleb, had him figured out in seconds. He was obvious as hell.

Which was why he had to move stations. Away from the Mid-Wilshire Division and to another. He couldn’t be around her anymore and risk compromising missions or attacks. He didn’t tell Angela the details, though her knowing look said enough, and simply replied that she’d miss him and that she was sure the chief would happily reinstate him any time.

He should’ve known that information leaked through like a wildfire.

The morning of his resignment, uniform neatly folded in his locker, Lucy stopped him in the hallway with the most befuddled expression he’d ever seen.

“What?” he said.

“What the hell,” she exclaimed. “You’re leaving and I have to hear it from Angela? Why’re you…? You love this division. Is everything okay?”

Shouldering past her, he drawled over his shoulder: “Everything’s fine, officer Chen. I’d advise you to put on your uniform and get to roll call.”

“Don’t pull this crap with me,” she bit back, latching onto his arm before he was out of reach. His feet reflexively stopped in place, stupidly waiting on her to finish her train of thought. “Tim, you can tell me if something’s wrong. We’ve been through… way too much for you to act this cold with me.”

He scoffed, feigning mockery, and put his hands on his hips. “We? Chen, I was your TO. That’s it. Get it out of your head it was more.”

Lucy blinked, once, twice, a hurt expression crossing her features, followed by disbelief and a quiet contempt he had become awfully familiar with. Swallowing back the regret, he watched as she pursed her lips and took a step back. “Wow. Okay.”

“Don’t take it personally.”

“Hard not to, officer Bradford,” she muttered. Turning to the locker rooms, she added, “Talk to me when you’re ready to not be an asshole.”

That should’ve been his cue to let her go and resume his trek to sergeant Grey, but a whiff of her fragrance wafted in his face from her dancing curls and any sensical thought was knocked out his head. He wanted to embrace her and burrow his face in her hair, he wanted to hold her with intent, he wanted to kiss the scent off her skin. His feet followed her instead, both fully aware and totally impulsive at once. He chose the excuse of loving a good argument with her to then utter: “I’m not an asshole, Chen. I’m honest.”

“If you’re honest, you’d admit that we’ve been very close friends these past months,” she exhaled, refusing to look him in the eye. He supposed he deserved that. Stopping in front of her locker, she continued with, “Distorting your own reality to fit your macho narrative isn’t healthy. Also, this is the women’s locker room. Out. Now.”

Tim sputtered out a laugh and crossed his arms. “Macho narrative? Please.”

Lucy’s eyes narrowed, all air sucked out the room at the intensity of her stare, and Tim felt himself flailing, suddenly wondering why the hell he wanted to turn in his badge when the only place he could have moments with lucy was, well, here. Why was he giving up on this, how silly it might be?

With a resolute voice, she said, “Tim, why are you resigning?”

Nothing in his entire career prepared him for this. Tim Bradford had survived Iraq and Afghanistan, twelve years of the LAPD and counting, a deadly virus, hundreds of bullets taken by the vest and felt the power of death on the blue lips of Lucy in the quiet countryside. Fear got pushed aside. Pride pulled him forward, onwards. But right now, he had to take a leap of faith — the sole thing he never relied on, but Lucy did — and trust she’d be there after the fall.

(He wanted to be that amazing someone for her.)

“Because of you,” he whispered. His fight or flight told him to run for the first time in forever, but he kept his feet glued to the floor.

Her jaw fell slack in shock. “E-excuse me? Me?! I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“Exactly,” he spit. “You… you’re…” Tim sighed. “You’re the best, Lucy.”

Faltering, her brows furrowed in utter confusion, a grain of her fury replaced with compassion. He wasn’t sure if that was warranted. All he was trying to do was get it off his chest, confess, before it escalated to insurmountable heights. “I don’t think I understand.”

“Uh…”

“You’re resigning, because I’m the best?” she tried to deduce. “No offense, any other day I’d be dancing right now, but this is just…” She gestured at him. “So weird.”

Tim let out a miserable sigh and ripped the band-aid off. Fuck it. “I’m trying to be honest about my feelings, Lucy.”

She froze. “What?”

“I like you. A lot.” Her wonderstruck expression didn’t make him feel better, so he quickly added: “Which is why I gotta decrease the risk of this exploding in our faces and go.”

“Whoa!” Lucy’s hand wrapped around his, eyes wide and searching, like any empirical data would be found within his green irises, otherwise known as fondness and unresolved tension with every quiet moment they had. “Is this… another test? Are you getting back at me for pranking you?”

He quirked a brow. “You’re a P2 now. Tests are over.”

“Right,” she quipped, catching herself. She let go of him and nervously tucked a lock behind her ear. “Yeah. Okay. And you’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. O-kay. Let me, uh…” the locker swung open “… wrap my head around this.”

“It’s a pretty easy thing to—”

“Tim.”

“Yeah, okay.” He backed off, hating how the control was out of his hands now, how he practically shoved his heart in her grip and her pretty fingers could crush it to dust if she wanted to. “I’ll let you do that.”

Walking out the locker room, he took a deep breath and straightened up his face. Alright. He royally screwed that over. If his army buddies knew, they’d all laugh in his face and tease him for the rest of his life. But at least he told her and got his answer, that a relationship was off the table but that they could save their friendship once he switched divisions and some distance mended his twisted, inside-out heart. Lucy had rocked his world and all she had to do was exist.

“Tim!”

“Wha— wow!”

Her body crashed into him the second he turned around to her beautiful voice, Lucy’s arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him down to her level ‘til all he experienced were her sweet eyes and breathless smile and a kiss. Lucy kissing him, slow and tentative, but it lit his heart aflame and urged him to hold onto her. Her perfume was all-encompassing, nose full of the fragrance and the soft slope of her neck and long, brown hair and fuck, he was kissing Lucy Chen. Except he didn’t care if the entire precinct idly watched by, or if she yanked him out the building on impulse, or anything — ‘cause he was kissing her and it was perfect. Her plump lips were better than he ever imagined.

Her hands slid from his hair to his shoulders, arms and then his hands, squeezing. His forehead pressed against hers, embarrassingly weak in the knees from that incredible kiss that he didn’t dare to stand up straight. Two silly grins broke loose on their faces. He had no clue what to do now, or not do, but he did know he wanted her. He wanted everything.

Lucy decided for him.

“Don’t go,” she whispered.

Tim smiled. “Okay.”

[mcwriting]

just say I Do

I have been super active lately which is vv weird for me but this has been in my drafts all summer and I thought now was a good time to post it since wedding season is coming to a close :)

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 2945

Warnings: alcohol mention; slight angst with happy ending

§

She was a walking red flag from the moment she refused to laugh at your jokes.

Sure that sounds like a stupid reason, but more little "quirks," as Tom liked to call them, made themselves present the more he talked about Alaina.

He had been one of your best friends for years, but now he refused to listen.

"She doesn't trust us to hang out anymore?" you had asked incredulously.

"No, no. She's just insecure with the idea of us being alone together. That's all," he tried to reassure you. "I want to prove that I'm trustworthy."

Insecure

Code for "I don't trust you at all but I'm gonna keep using you for my benefit."

She had no reason not to trust him. You'd been in the friendzone for years and neither of you would ever cross a boundary. He was the most trustworthy person you knew.

After a couple weeks of his blatant ignorance of each red flag, you decided saving him from this relationship could never happen. You'd just have to let him drown in it.

So, you kept your mouth shut and ears open every time you hung out as he dumped all of her problems onto you. She'd turned him into her personal therapist and now you'd become his.

Regardless of how much you'd tried to extend an olive branch to her, she denied it every time, continually trying to push you away from her and, subsequently, Tom.

After months of this, yours and Tom's friendship eventually phased itself out.

Years of memories left in the dust .

You were almost happy, though. No more emotional trauma dumps every time you hung out with Tom. No more unnecessary hostility from Alaina. No more hiding your long-standing feelings.

You'd actually tried to tell him how you felt months earlier, but that got squashed when the "big news" he needed to tell you was that he had met someone. That "someone" being Alaina, of course.

You'd finally decompressed from all of the Tom drama when life decided to ramp up again as Harrison popped the all-important question to your female best friend, Rebecca.

The day after his proposal, she'd asked you to be maid of honor and you were quickly thrown into helping plan a wedding.

So you did your job: dress shopping, party planning, and shower throwing.

One unfortunate happenstance was that Tom was Harrison's best man, meaning that you had to see him again, especially within the month before the ceremony.

However, as the month moved forward, you and Tom had reconnected, your friendship much more lighthearted than how you'd left it previously. While Tom still talked about Alaina on occasion, he was no longer dumping everything onto you.

She still showed up to certain things, like a wedding shower and some parties, but you were mostly able to avoid her hostility and focus on Rebecca and Harrison.

Finally, after months and months of planning, the rehearsal dinner came, and you were almost hoping they'd just sign the papers that night and call it a wedding.

You were in the bridal suite touching up your lipstick as Rebecca and Harrison talked with the minister when Alaina appeared behind you, arms crossed.

"What's your angle, y/l/n?"

You furrowed your brows but didn't turn around, continuing to carefully apply the liquid lip as you just looked at her reflection.

"I don't know what you're talking about, sister. I'm just here to watch my best friend get married tomorrow."

"Don't play dumb. I know you're trying to get between me and Tom," she huffed.

"I can guarantee that's not what's going on here. We're friends again. That's all."

"You've been trying to squeeze your way into our relationship ever since it started. Forcing Tom to hang out with you alone, always texting him..."

You screwed the lipstick shut and stood up, whipping around to interrupt her.

"I'm sorry, what? I never forced him to do anything. He and I actually started communicating less once you two got together. You know, I knew you were insecure but I didn't think it was this bad."

"Well you've still been trying to pry us apart, even after your little friendship hiatus."

"Honey, I'm the reason he even asked you to make it official. He was too scared of committing, but I told him to pull the trigger and make you his girlfriend. Now I get that you have family trauma and the whole thing with your parents but-"

When she cut you off you knew you'd made a mistake. She wasn't supposed to know what all Tom had told you.

"You know what about me?"

You took in a sharp breath, unsure how to answer. An awkward pause fell between you.

"Everything. I know almost every damn thing about you. You were using Tom as a therapist and he took it to me. And I'm sorry about everything that's happened to you but I was almost glad when you forced me out of his life for a little bit because it meant I could finally deal with my own problems for once."

She continued to stare at you, stunned.

I- everything?" she breathed. You nodded, somber. "Why would he do that?"

"Dude. We were best friends for years. Told each other everything. Always went to each other to talk through the deep stuff. He didn't really know how to handle the stuff you were telling him. I wouldn't blame him for wanting to tell someone."

"But you know all this... stuff about me!"

"And those things aren't what shaped my opinion of you! Sure, it gave me some insight into your personality, but you can't let that stuff define you. You aren't going to get any real help dumping it all on your boyfriend, either."

"What are you trying to say, y/n?"

"I'm saying that him telling me everything shouldn't be the real problem here. The problem is that the whole relationship is toxic. Break up or don't, but you both need help. Tom isn't your therapist and if that's all you want him for then he shouldn't be your boyfriend. You both deserve better."

Each of you sat in that statement for a moment. After all of the frustration and anger, you'd chosen to channel it into something constructive.

Alaina had a look of defeat. You'd expected anger from her after everything.

"Yeah. Maybe we do. I just can't believe I couldn't trust him with the most important things in my life. Maybe I shouldn't have been trying to keep you apart all this time. I really should've been getting you together."

"What? No, Alaina don't say that-"

"Do you know where Tom is?"

"Come on don't do this right now-"

"Y/n just tell me where he is."

"I- You were the last one with him as far as I know. You came in here after I did."

In silence, she nodded and exited, leaving you alone again with a pit in your stomach.

You quickly tried to straighten yourself out, taking one last look in the mirror before you walked out and faked a smile.

"Oh! There you are! We're gonna get started on the rehearsal now!" Rebecca said as she caught you in the hall. "Just head outside and if you see Tom, tell him to come, too."

You did see him as you headed that way. His lips were pressed into a tight grimace as Alaina quietly talked to him near the building's entrance.

His eyes caught yours briefly and you gestured your head towards the alter, tapping your wrist. He gave a small nod of recognition and Alaina turned to see you in the distance, giving you a sad grin.

Tom started to tell her that he needed to go rehearse when she put a hand on his shoulder.

"Bye, Tom. Keep in mind what I told you," she said, leaning up to press a kiss on his cheek before walking off to her car, leaving for good.

You could tell he trying not to seem sad as he followed not far behind you to join everyone else.

When Rebecca returned, she was excitedly telling everyone the plan for walking down the aisle, deciding to pair bridesmaids with groomsmen as there was an equal number.

The pit in your stomach grew when you realized that meant you and Tom would be paired together.

The pairs lined up, you and Tom having to be last. You knew it would take a while when the flower girls took forever to walk the aisle and the first male/female pair couldn't figure out their cue.

Your arm was looped in Tom's but you had never felt so apart from him. Both of you were stiff, trying not to move too much.

"Alaina dumped me," he finally whispered, leaning over to tell you, as your heels brought you close to his height.

Your head stayed forward as your gaze fell to the ground.

"I figured as much. I tried to talk her out of it but... you know."

"Yeah."

There was another heavy silence.

"I'm really sorry, Tom," you started, but he cut you off.

"Don't. We just need to focus on Becca and Haz," he bit back, stone-faced.

You wanted to say something more, but you were cut off by Rebecca telling you your cue and getting you to walk the aisle in sync.

You couldn't look at Tom the rest of the night and hardly touched your dinner as your thoughts ran wild of how to make things up to him.

You couldn't tell Rebecca what happened. This was her time to shine, and you figured if Tom were to tell Harrison anything, it would just be that they'd broken up.

A couple speeches were made about the happy couple and finally it was over, all of you nervously ready for the real ceremony tomorrow.

You breathed a sigh of relief when you made it out without talking to Tom again.

The next morning, things ramped up as the bridal party got ready while sipping mimosas. Everything felt frantic because you felt the need to supervise and take stress off the bride.

It didn't help that you were still stressing over Tom.

You went into the bathroom to catch your breath, trying to maintain a positive facade.

When you stepped out, you found Rebecca looking beautiful as ever in front of you, but you quickly recognized the look on her face.

"Lets go to the balcony real quick. I feel like we need to talk."

You followed her out, both of your robes flowing in a soft breeze as the sun shone down happily. She handed you another mimosa as she leaned over the railing.

"Harrison told me about Tom. Said it was a pretty big deal."

You groaned, trying not to facepalm over your freshly done makeup.

"Becca we shouldn't be talking about this right now. We need to focus on your wedding-" you started, reaching for the door handle.

"Y/n. I want to talk about this. And I hear you're supposed to listen to the bride on her wedding day," she chuckled. You rolled your eyes and smirked.

"Fine. Yeah, they broke up. And it's all my fault and Tom's probably pissed at me but whatever. It's fine."

"From what I hear he's not as mad as he probably should be. It's been a long time coming, you were just the catalyst. Just think how much longer it would've taken for them to pull their heads outta their asses without you."

"He's not mad?"

"Doesn't sound like it. I think you guys need to talk about it, though."

You sighed.

"We will, eventually. We both agreed yesterday that we just need to focus on you two right now."

"You know that's gonna be hard, right? I mean, you're both gonna be stuck together from pictures up until after the ceremony."

"Yeah, yeah. I promise I won't ruin your wedding. Can't speak for Tom, though," you joked, holding your glass up towards hers.

"I'll take your word for it," she replied, clinking her own glass against yours.

§

The bride and groom weren't ones for superstition, so you took wedding photos before the ceremony to maximize lighting and time with the guests later.

You didn't talk to Tom at all, but neither of you could keep from making quick eye contact between shots.

Finally the time had came for guests to begin arriving and the big moment to actually come.

After some last minute touch ups, the wedding party greeted guests as the countdown began. Once things were in place, you all went back into the building to line up, ready to start.

Again, you and Tom were linked together, waiting in bated breath.

"Alaina told me something yesterday before she left," Tom whispered.

You hummed in response.

"Yeah. Said I never really loved her."

"What makes her think that?" you asked, trying to pay attention to those ahead of you in line as music started playing outside.

"She told me I probably loved you," he replied casually.

Your eyes widened as you turned to look at him in shock. Again you wanted to reply but Tom tugged your arm and started stepping forward.

"Oh, looks like it's our time to shine."

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you walked down the aisle, seeing familiar faces as a blush rose to your cheeks before you both separated at the alter, leaving an empty spot between you and Harrison.

You pretty much forgot all of the nervousness when you watched your beautiful best friend come down the aisle with her dad. Harrison was tearing up and you were fighting back your own.

The ceremony began and throughout it, you and Tom continued to look past the couple and steal glances of each other.

When the vows finally came, you actually were crying, pulling a hidden tissue from your bouquet to dab your eyes as you watched with a watery grin. They had written their own vows.

You still couldn't help but watch Tom, though, as the two professed their love in front of everyone.

When they finished, the minister was given the rings and the most important part came.

"Now, Harrison, do you take Rebecca to be your wife? Will you love and cherish her for the rest of your days?"

The groom said I do, but you could only see Tom mouthing the same words to you.

When Rebecca was asked the same thing, you couldn't help but mouth the same words, too.

With that came a kiss and the declaration of marriage, with each couple again pairing off to run down the aisle.

You didn't have time to talk to Tom though, as you were whisked away with the bridal party to have a glass of celebratory wine before dinner as you waited to enter the reception.

That dinner again went on without a hitch, with both you and Tom making pre-written speeches about the couple before the first dance.

Once the DJ turned up the music, everyone was out on the dance floor having a good time when he slowed it down again for couples to dance to.

You were prepared to walk off when a hand caught your arm.

It was Tom.

"Dance with me," he beckoned, and you couldn't bring yourself to say no.

You slow danced in silence, trying to figure out what to say as he twirled you around.

"So..." you started.

"Don't feel bad about Alaina," he immediately replied.

"But I'm the reason you broke up."

"No, I am. You were right that neither of us were handling things correctly. I should have never told you her personal business behind her back. I'm sorry for doing that to you, too."

You gave a lopsided grin.

"It's okay. I get why you did. I'm probably the best person you could've gone to anyways. I'm guessing you also apologized to her?"

"Yeah. I did last night but then I called her this morning and we talked it out. We should've broken up a long time ago. I wish I had listened to you back then."

You raised your brows.

"So you actually remember all the stuff I pointed out?"

"Just because I ignored it doesn't mean I didn't hear it. I was just too stupid and puppy-blind to see how much you actually cared."

You hummed as you wrapped both hands around his neck, stepping a little closer. He rubbed your back as he went to speak again.

"She was right, too. You are the one I really love. I meant it when I said 'I do.'"

"So I didn't just imagine that?"

"Just as much as I imagined you replying," he smirked. You smiled and bit your lip.

"I never wanted you to find out this way. I wanted to tell you the day you told me about her."

"It's probably for the best."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" You were confused at what he meant.

"Because now everyone we know can see firsthand that you're the one I love," he answered.

You were about to ask what that meant when he tipped up your chin, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as the song ended. When you pulled away people were moving around so that Rebecca could throw the bouquet.

"You know what?" she announced. "I think I just need to do this."

Everyone watched as she marched over and handed you the bouquet directly, causing cheers to ring out around you.

"Now you just gotta say I do!" she exclaimed.

You looked up at Tom and he smiled down at you.

"I did."

§

A/N: okay half of me hates this bc I can't imagine how obnoxious this would be if it happened in real life but also it's kinda 🥺

Lemme know how you feel! Wedding szn had me in my feels again this year so I couldn't resist. If you liked this I'd suggest checking out the objection because it's also got angsty wedding vibes oop

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[maybebanks]

Stronger

JJ Maybank x Reader

JJ was deeply loyal to his friends, still he had no idea why the right group could accept one new member, you. JJ is always sour to you, being a kook and all. But this summer, something changes.

⚠️:hints to violence

“Jesus, Y/n,” JJ mumbled, the words just seemed to fall out of his mouth without his permission. He shuffled in his seat.

At this Y/n felt insecure. JJ usually put her down, with his snarkey remarks that always landed a place under her skin. She didn’t know why. But she was new to the group, and apparently that was all JJ needed to hate her.

Y/n gripped her iPhone, “What now JJ? You gonna comment on my looks? Or is it the sound of my voice that annoys you?” She snapped.

The group surrounded them, they weren’t new to this kind of bickering between Y/n and JJ.

“Quit it guys,” John B ordered.

“I will, when Y/n quits at life,” JJ joked, but said it in a serious tone.

“Oh fuck off, Maybank,” you groaned, not wanting to insult him any more.

“Ooh? Did-did y’all here that? Y/n just talked back to me?” JJ said, faking shocked.

You rolled your eyes.

“JJ, don’t start,” Pope added. He knew you didn’t like to fight back. You usually never insulted JJ back.

“Nah I wanna hear this! Say it again Y/n!” JJ exclaimed, pointing towards you.

You looked away, tensing up.

“Say it to my face Y/n,” JJ continued, in a threatening manner. JJ thought it was slightly playful. And hoped you wouldn’t know the reason why he was actually picking on you.

“Leave me alone JJ,” you muttered, moving closer to John B sitting next to you.

“Y/n, tell me, have you always been this much of a pussy? Or are you just afraid of me?” JJ taunted.

“Watch your mouth, asshole,” you insulted.

“Make me,” he snapped, leaning closer to you. Towering over you.

JJ smirked, “you wanna know what I think? I think you, being a waste of space and all, would be easily forgotten if you just..hm pulled a Scooter Grubbs,”

You rolled your eyes, “I can’t deal with you right now,”

“You’re gonna leave?! Expected,” JJ chuckled.

“It’s not worth it,” you muttered, heading out the door.

“JJ why do you have to be such a dumbass?” Pope said, but JJ was just motivated by this. Feeling disappointed that the fight didn’t go as planned.

He followed you outside, you were by the Pogue, grabbing your backpack.

You heard footsteps and immediately perked up, “god, what is wrong with you?” you groaned.

“I was thinking...” he began.

“Look, I don’t give a fuck. So please get out of my way,” you gestured towards him, there was minimal space on the dock.

“Not until you give me what I want,” JJ shrugs.

You gulped, stepping backwards, “JJ, let’s talk tomorrow,”

JJ knew you were intimidated, it wasn’t just his height that scared you.

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” JJ scoffed, giving you a dirty look.

“Whatever,” you muttered, trying to walk past him. You were restricted when he grabbed your arm

“Let go of me,” you said, pulling away lightly.

“No. I want you to fight back,” JJ blurted. Still holding you tight.

“I’m not gonna fight you,” you said, pulling away hard enough to be released.

JJ ran a hand through his hair while taking a sharp breath in, then he stepped towards you. Shoving your shoulders with force, not enough to make you fall.

“The fuck!” You shouted, and now triggered and annoyed. But you couldn’t fight him. So you calmed your breathing.

“Fight BACK!” He shouted. He wanted to be insulted. He wanted to be punished.

“I-..what? I can’t!”

“I know you’ve got a mouth on ya! Insult me!” He demanded.

“No. Just let me go. Please,” you continued.

“No!” He screamed, then he stepped forward towards you and in one motion, he grabbed your face with one hand, forcing your eyes up to him.

He studied you, you were frozen, but still remained composed.

“You never fight back, it’s like you think your better than me. Why.” JJ spits.

“Im not gonna fight you-“ you repeated.

“Why?” JJ interrupted.

“Because...your stronger than me,” you shrugged.

JJ backer up, he was slightly confused. He knew you could tell anyone off. But you never tried with JJ. He wanted to know why he was different. He wanted to know why no matter how much of a dick he was to you, you wouldn’t insult him back.

“Stronger than...like physically?” JJ asked.

You look at the wood below you, still standing on the dock.

“Look...I don’t pity you JJ. But when I found out about your Dad, I-“

“Hold up. Who...what the fuck is there to know?” He defended. He was mad someone told you, he was mad that someone he, deep down wanted to impress, knew his biggest insecurity.

“JJ,” you sighed.

“What? Who told you?!” He exclaimed.

“No one...” you lied, not wanting to get John B in trouble.

“Stop fuckin lying,” he said angerly.

“You’re...you’re scaring me,” you croaked out.

“Fine. Then leave,” he stated, he was still clearly angry, you noticed his jaw clenching.

You were afraid that if you moved, he’d snap.

“Just know you’re fucking dead to me,” JJ whispered, but you heard him.

You frowned, but understood that now he probobly wanted you to leave. You walked around 6 feet past him. When you turned around.

He hadn’t moved, he was staring off into the distance.

You watched him for a moment, ruffled his hair a bit, then kicked some rock that was on the dock. You heard him mutter small things like “fuck.”

“Me doing this,” you spoke up, “doesn’t mean I’m giving up on you,”

JJ didn’t turn around to face you yet.

“We don’t deserve that shit,” you admitted.

JJ furrowed his brows, that was enough for him to turn around, “we? We are nothing alike.”

You frowned, but instead, slowly, you pulled at the hem of your t shirt, to reveal purple and blue marks the size of a fist on your torso.

“How the fuck you get those?” He asked, slightly calmer. He wasn’t connecting the dots.

“I should go,” you replied. Turning around and heading past the house.

JJ jogged over to you. You gasped when he touch your shoulder to turn you around.

When you looked at his face, it was softer now.

“Just because I don’t like you, doesn’t mean I can’t beat the shit out of someone for you,” JJ told you.

You noticed he was trying to help, but he couldn’t.

“It’s okay. I’ve got it under control,” you answered, starting to walk away again, he jogged infront of you.

“Was it Rafe? I swear to God I’ll kill him,” JJ muttered.

“Um..fuck..I shouldn’t have told you...just, in the moment...” you started to panic, you hadn’t thought of the consequences in that moment. What reckless JJ would do to protect his friends or anyone labeled in his friend group.

“I’m glad I know,” he answered, nonchalantly.

You felt sick suddenly, you didn’t want JJ to have another reason to hate kooks.

“JJ...wait...these,” you paused to point to your hip, “they’re just from me being clumsy...I fall like all the time-“ you stopped when he starting closing the space between you two.

He didn’t say anything, he just was walking closer. You weren’t intimidated at that moment. You sensed the comfort JJ was offering.

The truth was, you were a kook, who decided to become a pogue. And some of the kooks hated you for it. So, Rafe and Kelce sometimes would pick on you, and when they were high it would escalate. Sometimes even that plug Barry got involved.

You didn’t want tell anyone your problem and JJs was much worse.

You bit the inside of your cheek.

For JJ, he felt less broken. If someone was going through similar pain.

“I should go,” you pushed him by his chest gently. To create some distance.

“Right. You want me to walk you home?” JJ offered, it was weird, kindness coming from him.

“Uh...” you contemplated, JJ placed his hand on your bare shoulder. It was meant to be comforting. But him putting himself up for you, even though he was struggling finally hit you, and your eyes stung, starting to water.

“Just let me walk you home!” Rafe smirked. You were alone with him. Outside the country club, in the dark parking lot.

“Please don’t do this. Not tonight,” you pleaded.

“Why?” He paused to grab your hip, “going surfing what the Pogues? Your such a slut you wanna wear a bikini?” He seethed. His face so close to yours.

“Stop!” You shouted, but that angered him more. Then, he covered your mouth with his rough hand. Sending a powerful punch to your side.

“You know how you end this, Y/n. Just say you’ll do it,” he taunted.

“Never.”

“No. I’ll be fine thanks,” you shook your head. Wiping the tears away quickly.

“Can I at least walk you past the driveway?” He asked. JJ really wanted to apologize for how he’s been treating you. It was his own defense mechanism to hide his feelings for you. But now, he couldn’t apologize, it’s not who he was.

He would make it up to you with his actions.

You sighed, “is really hot today, don’t you think?” You said, making conversation.

JJ nodded, his boots dragging against the gravel as he joined you walking.

The uneasy feeling in your gut remained, even after JJ was talking about the plans for the rest of the summer.

“And what about midsummers? You still going to that?” JJ asked.

You didn’t even notice you stopped walking, until JJ gave you a confused look.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

You brushed him off. Just shaking your head and not saying anything.

After you both started walking past the driveway you frowned.

“JJ, you should leave. I don’t want you to get hurt,” you blurted.

“Me? Why are you always worried about everyone but yourself?” JJ scoffed.

“Why are you?” You retaliated, “it’s not up for discussion. They have numbers,” you said.

“They? What the hell are you talking about?!” He shouted, now angry.

“JJ. I’m not going to ask you again. Leave,” you demanded.

He didn’t respond because the sound of an approaching engine could be heard from down the road.

When you looked up you recognized it. They were slowing.

Your instinct was to run. But JJ stood still.

“JJ, let’s go! What are you doing?” You asked frantically.

“Get behind me,” he ordered.

“No...JJ don’t do this. Let’s run!” You pleaded, tugging at his bicep.

“They hurt you, they hurt me.”

Part ii

[gothamslittlejester]

Obsessive Ledger!joker x reader

I’ve been spoiling you all recently with all this Ledger!Joker, so you’re welcome 😎 (but also so sorry because I did go on a hiatus without saying anything for half a year 😬). Let me know in the asks if you want something in particular, I love writing for J so much! I have a few already that I am working on as we speak, so stay tuned for those 💜

Below are headcannons for a more yandere and darker joker than I usually write 👻 nothing abusive here because J is still very much my comfort character, but it definitely includes over-possessive, protective and stalker themes, as well as encouraging reader to join in on his murderous chaos

Warnings: morally ambiguous reader, joining joker on his “fun” i.e. mentions of torturing others, blood, weapons, severed body parts as gifts, implied seggsy time

· Before adoration, fondness or love, the first feelings Joker had for you was pure obsession. Obsession with what you thought and felt, what you liked to do and why you liked to do them. Obsession with your safety and the need to protect you, which led to jealousy and possessiveness very often. It was primal, and longing, and left him thirsting after your presence like a greedy, hungry wolf. He wanted you- needed you- and he was going to get you

·In spite of a period of flirting, suggestive jokes and hinting touches, Joker made it clear pretty quickly what his feelings were for you. Because of his lifestyle death is like a waiting shadow, and wasting time on what he wants is just not his style  

· Quite soon into the beginning of your more romantic relationship, you move into his hideout for the sake of your safety, which calmed J down with some of his possessiveness and paranoid thoughts. He knew his home was the safest place in Gotham, excluding Bruce Wayne’s cave, and with you in it that meant you were safe too.

·When he’s gone, he’ll leave a huge shotgun behind for you to use in case of emergency, as well as Chechen’s Rottweilers. You’ll find some stray knives and pointy objects hidden in your coats too, “just in case”, but its more heartwarming to you than annoying

· He loves to lay on you at night, whether it be right on your chest to hear your heartbeat, or on your belly where he can feel your soft skin pressed against his scared cheeks. Not only is it pleasant and lets his touched-starved soul get some attention, but it also makes him hyper aware of every shift or move your body does while asleep. It also prevents you from sneaking out of the bed to run away, which is one of his more paranoid thoughts. Don’t try to move away or push him off, he will smack your hand back and snuggle in deeper, wrapping his arms around you like a snake

· He doesn’t care what insecurities you have regarding your appearance; he admires every single piece of you and will cuddle with whatever he wants, so push your anxieties aside because Joker hungers for all of you

· His gifts can sometimes be very macabre. Generally, he loves to spoil you with an array of things, such as new clothes or lingerie, plush toys of your favorite animals, snacks you said you’ve wanted to try, or even just random knick-knacks he stole from his victim’s homes. However, if he’s feeling adventurous or extra flirty that day, he will bring you certain body parts to symbolize his feelings for you.

· You’ve definitely found your fair share of human hearts in your fridge, because he adores how your heart races when your scared. You’ve found a pair of lungs stuffed in there too, because the little gasps you make when frightened or anticipating his touch are delicious to him. You went to get milk once and right behind the carton was a tongue, symbolizing how much he relishes your little talks and midnight conversations

· Once, he brought over a whole corpse, the body decomposing and gnarled, skin ripped to shreds and a face pummeled so brutally it had concaved. “Don’t need to worry about them any more doll,” he giggled, spitting on the body with a fervor that thrilled you. It took a few minutes of intense staring- why did they look familiar?-  but then it clicked in your mind; it was the very person you had fumed and vented to Joker about last night, right before he had spontaneously left

· “J,” you began, eyes nearly popping out of your head. “Did you kill him... for me?”

· “ ‘Course I did, sweetheart.” He rolled his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You know I’d, uh, kill anyone for you. Nasty fucks like them especially-ah.”

· If you have to leave for longer periods of time, whether that be for school or work, Joker will always have a few of his men stalking you from a distance, making sure you’re safe and that no one dangerous is within a 1 mile radius of you. They also have explicit instructions to take photos and send them to J, because he likes looking at your oblivious little face.

· He’d do it himself if he has the time, which he sometimes does, but he too is quite busy with his own things (when anarchy calls, as they say), so hiring lookouts is the next best thing. If he could, he’d have you right by his side at all times… how pretty you’d look in a soft purple leash... but that’s just daydream fuel for now

· Speaking of photos, Joker knows his ways around a camera. He makes... lovely home videos that he sends to news channels in his free time (rip fake batman) and he continues to practice at his craft from time to time. He even won a deepweb award for best snuff film of the year, which boosted his ego to ungodly heights. He’s absolutely delighted about it and hints that you should watch it on one of your movie nights, but he does warn it’s not for the faint of heart

· Taking videos and photos are one of his favorite hobbies, and if you’re down to clown… he’d certainly bring it in the bedroom

· Speaking of his more thrilling hobbies, Joker will constantly suggest you join him on his escapades or help out behind the scenes, especially if he picks up on any sort of interest from you concerning his ‘job’. Joker is an observant man, and he reads you like a book. He knows you likely have some dark, sinister thoughts running around in your head - you must, if you’re with him- so he does everything he can to encourage you to let them out. Joker will never judge this side of you, no matter how grim. He’ll try and harness it, bring it to light. He hates the thought of you shying away from your true self, embarrassed of your darker nature, but what he hates even more is you thinking he’ll be disgusted with you or disappointed. How can you think that?

· “No no no, bunny, not me. You’re my muse, so give me some inspiration hmm? Tell daddy exactly what’s going on in that mind of yours...”

·  If you do show interest in the darker side of his job, he’d smile so big that his scars take up his whole face. He’d teach you everything; how to fire a gun, how to stab someone, how to hide a body and how to torture one. He’ll spread out all his weapons on the floor and let you choose which one calls to you, like a deranged ceremony, informing you on the pros and cons of each one. He’ll even invite you into the warehouses he designated just for torture, which are just as gruesome and sinful and they sound

· J let’s you watch as he hurts his victims, whom are purposefully rapists and killers to make you feel less guilty, and let’s you join in on the fun whenever you gain the courage. He even went as far as to buy a whole torture set off the black market, from scalpel to needles, just to give you options. Joker loves to see how creative you can get, and it’s one of the few times he lets you take complete control

· “The floor is yours, bunny. Impress me.”

· He is down for pretty much anything, and that mindset is not exclusive just to the bedroom

·Any couple activity you fear might be too far or creepy for other people… is right around J’s alley. Weird kinks or foreplay games you want to try? No problem. Making love in abandoned houses or cemeteries? Now that’s his type of romance. You want to carry a small vial of his blood around your neck? He is all game, but only if he gets one of you as well. Matching knives? He’s blushing. Satanic blood ritual from a sketchy website that’s supposed to bond your souls for eternity? Perfect, his weekend plans were centered around you anyways

· Now…If he feels that you’re not giving him enough attention or start to push him away, he will resort to crazier means to obtain your love back. He’ll set off random bugs, rats or even henchmen into your home to scare you, gleefully waiting to hear you cry out his name in fear. Like a small, dependent little kitten, mewling for their protector. He’d come in, guns ablaze, looking for whatever scared his darling angel, killing them on sight. You’d run into his arms, tears streaming down your face as you cling to Joker like your life depended on it- just how he liked it. He’d coo mockingly and pull you closer, rubbing your back as he unashamedly basked in your physical touch.

· In general however, your soft caresses, kisses and reassuring words are enough to keep him very pleased. He knows you adore him and are head over heels obsessed just like he is, and that truly does put a smile on his face.

[food-in-your-mitch]

People have historically given Link a harder time in the comments sections, uncharitably speculating about his sexuality or calling him girlish in a time when his thinking was less nuanced and being compared to Velma Dinkley was a flat out insult (Nowadays I think 'looks-up-lesbian-fashion Link' might be more inclined to take this as a compliment).

Doesn't help that Rhett was also always ready to quirk his brow at Link's 'quare'ness, to give him the stern 'boundaries, bro' etc. most likely cause of his own insecurities making Link a convenient lightning rod for that judgement. Partly because of his (endearing and probably very flustering to Rhett) moments of non self consciousness, and also because they both grew around each other and use each other as points of reference (you're my whole world bro). They're Rhett and Link, the ______one and the _____ one.

So Link experiences himself as the Boy to Rhett's Business Man, leans into it for laughs, reads his storybook lines in a high pitched voice, all to be 'in' on the joke, before he can be the butt of it. Rhett 'gets to' be Dr. McLaughlin and maybe this perception of their dynamic makes it easier for him to digest the concept. Maybe he gets comfortable with the idea sooner even though it involves playing their comedic version of playing 'house' in a way where he's perpetually relegated to Big Spoon without much room for exploration (except when Rule of Funny calls for it because haha height difference).

We know from the time they dressed as each other Link is definitely affected by this 'I'm gonna act like you're weird' thing even though Rhett has drastically changed in terms of his attitude towards masculinity and proximity, is more able to articulate and ask for affection, albeit clumsily, due to therapy, etc. Link fundamentally is troubled by changes in dynamic and the 'rules' they have set up between them, especially spontaneous or unpredictable situations that could lead to him feeling like the butt of a joke. He frequently alludes to not wanting to feel like a loser, a lesser partner or in any way diminished in their duo.

Vulnerability in these scenarios has historically led to Link getting laughed at on the Internet for having a face journey after the Newsicals kiss, and although not all of those reactions were bad intentioned, when you struggle with anxiety it can feel like you're being made fun of, and traitorous thoughts surface of "My not usually touchy friend who I'm comfortable with and knows all my boundaries is touching me a LOT and he looks VERY comfortable am I getting anti-Cap bait and switched here? If I lean into this will he guffaw and will the rug be pulled out from under me?" And maybe "My friend who I like but people say I more than like and who I maybe sorta do more than like is really comfy, how do I play this? Too comfortable and I run the risk of another incriminating face journey, too uncomfortable and I fail at this challenge and I'm Professional Loser Link"

Rhett is bad with words and cannot seem to communicate enough how ready he is for Link to forget about all that and move the 3 extra inches so he can nuzzle him in his arms and make up for lost time. As buds, of course.

“Am I getting anti-Cap bait and switched here? If I lean into this will he guffaw and will the rug be pulled out from under me?”

That’s a wonderful point, anon. This whole thing was one big perfect point. And as an outsider looking in on their relationship, it seems to me like a pretty solid analysis of Link’s thought process. I mean, I’d be nervous to cuddle too if I were in his shoes. What’s a prank by the writers to make Link look silly and what’s Rhett genuinely wanting to physically connect?

Is it even safe to physically connect in such a public space? What will people think if they both look comfortable in each other’s arms? What will they themselves think if they find that sort physical closeness and connection comes easily?

[ghosthan]

what would you say are the differences between 616 Tony and MCU Tony? 🤔

Hi anon! Many people have talked about this and I'm certainly not the authority on the topic, but I’ll try my best to explain some of the major differences that I have noticed! Thank you for asking and I’m sorry it took me so long to answer you.

Important to note: neither version of Tony has had a totally consistent characterization. Depending on who you ask and which comics/movies they've consumed, they might give you a different answer here and not be wrong.

616 Tony is even harder to put into one box because his character has been around since Tales of Suspense in the 1950s. That’s a long time. Things have changed over time, under different writers, changing political atmospheres, and outside pop culture influence (including influence from the MCU, unfortunately, in recent years.) You get the picture. So I’ll be making some generalizations and try to be clear about which eras I’m speaking when I make these comparisons, but ultimately, if someone wanted to be contrarian, you could probably refute a lot of what I say here if you cherry pick canon. Which is fair enough! That’s sort of the fun of comics, there’s so much to choose from and something for everyone.

So here are some observations from me, under the ‘read more’.

1. Physical Appearance

This is sort of an easy one, but worth mentioning!

MCU Tony does not look like 616 Tony. RDJ is great, but he would not be most 616 fans’ casting choice on looks alone. MCU Tony is tan, a Malibu man, with brown hair and brown eyes, and RDJ has sort of round facial features (a funny sloped nose, big, round eyes, round forehead, not a particularly sharp or classically “superhero masculine” face.) As you may know, this lends well to certain fanworks and tropes, such as Tony having Bambi eyes.

Or Tiny Tony. He is not actually canonically small, but he's smaller in the MCU than in 616 and from what I can tell, a portion of fandom has latched onto that. He’s a grown man, but RDJ is pretty short, and of slighter build than 616 Tony. RDJ is 5′9, but they make him act in heels, and I believe his canon MCU height is 5′11. Another popular trope I’ve seen is shrinking Tony in fanfic/fanart for a dramatized height difference with Steve, making him weak or fragile; this is fine because everyone has their own taste, but for the official record, he’s a capable, strong guy! Especially in earlier stages of the MCU, in which he’s a bit younger. Tony isn’t just a brain; he carries out his plans with his own two hands! He builds his armor, he remodels his lab, he survives hand to hand combat when he doesn’t have the armor. Muscles!

616 Tony is 6′1 without armor and 6′6 in armor (making him taller than his 616 Steve counterpart in armor and very close to the same height out of armor!) 616 Tony is generally paler with black hair (sometimes the classic blue-black I love so much) and blue eyes, and it obviously depends on the artist, but he has a pretty typically ‘masculine’ face and build. Generally he is drawn with a squared jaw and a high bridged nose (such as in the Extremis storyline, or drawn by Marquez), but again, this varies from artist to artist! Here's some examples of 616 Tonys.

Wait, you might be saying, but I have seen comic panels where Tony has brown hair/brown eyes!

Yep. Due to a combination of forgetfulness, inconsistency, and the MCU bleeding into the general consciousness of the comics, sometimes Tony is randomly depicted in the image of RDJ, or if not in his image, at least visually inspired by the MCU-- hair color and style, eye color, dialogue, etc.

616 fans don’t typically love this; he’s very handsome when drawn this way, of course, (look at him!) But it isn’t really the same character.

Also, MCU Tony has (at least for some of his movies) a reactor built into his chest. While 616 Tony has, at times, been more or less physically connected/dependent to his tech, he doesn’t have the built in reactor (most generally speaking, there are times in comics when he temporarily has the tech built in, but this isn’t really the status quo.)

2. Relationship with parents/ family history

While it is definitely implied in the MCU that Howard was not a good father to Tony, (such as in Iron Man 2 when Tony says “You're talking about a man whose happiest day of his life was shipping me off to boarding school” and “He was cold, calculating, never told me he loved me, never even told me he liked me”), Tony has a different sort of attitude toward Howard in MCU than in 616. It’s kind of weird, and hard to discuss. To me, it seems implied that MCU Howard was emotionally abusive to Tony based on what Tony does say about his childhood, and yet, the films kind of randomly give Howard weird moments of “Well, he tried his best and deep down he loved me the whole time!” forgiveness. MCU has a Howard kink and I'm very cringe-face emoji about it.

For example, Iron Man 2 shows that old film reel of Howard talking about how Tony is the greatest thing he ever created, and in Endgame, when Tony goes back in time, he meets Howard and has a very weird interaction with him in which Howard declares he would do anything for his son, (to his deeply damaged son who is a new father himself.) Yet, for all his talk, it's his actions that speak, and his actions left Tony damaged, traumatized, and emotionally inept at forming healthy relationships. So.

Sorry. I’m a little bitter. I'm just uncomfortable with how they sort of set up an abuse history but then treated it kind of lightly and Howard gets off the hook as "well, he tried his best" without really acknowledging the hurt he caused.

Avengers: Endgame 2019

I won't go super in depth into the abuse stuff because it's a little touchy and could take up a lot of this post. But.

I’m not against any reconciliation and I do appreciate the fact that a lot of times, victims of abuse feel a desire to forgive and reconnect with their abuser-- my issue with the MCU depiction of Tony and Howard is that Tony never really gets the vindication of his abuse being recognized for what it was before he forgives Howard. To me, that’s not forgiveness as kind of... gaslighting himself that it wasn't as bad as he remembered his own experience being, because of a sense of nostalgia and grief. It’s not the same, and I have issues with it.

However, a lot of my opinion is based on subtext and it is just my opinion; with depictions of abuse, different people are going to react differently, and other people may have found these scenes touching and gotten something positive out of them, and that's totally fine too!

It’s also a bit difficult to talk about Tony’s relationship with Howard in 616, for a few reasons: shifting timelines, lots of canon that I have not read all of, and the fact that it really is difficult to sum up such a complicated relationship.

Right off the bat, I’ll address the basics. I used the same scene in another ask, and I think it's frequently cited in any meta regarding Howard, but in Iron Man Vol. 1, we see more into Tony’s childhood and see Howard verbally abusing his family, drunk, at the dinner table.

Iron Man Vol. 1 #285

We get this scene with adult Tony’s retrospective commentary on how his own issues that he blamed himself for were actually a cycle starting with his father, the insecurity and abuse and alcohol, and that he realizes how much this has influenced him. Both MCU Tony and 616 Tony have some form of “stop the cycle of shame” arcs, but I don’t really see how this works narratively in the MCU because Tony makes excuses for Howard and continues to blame himself for a lot of his own personal struggles, whereas I think there’s just a bit more nuance in 616.

But uh. This isn’t totally true, and in recent years, things got real weird. I choose to ignore this chapter of canon, but in the Dan Slott run, Tony Stark: Iron Man, Tony’s whole backstory gets imploded. For one thing, the little of Tony’s childhood it shows in a flashback is uh. Uh. Well, it’s certainly out of character compared with previous 616 material, depicting Tony as an overly confident poor sport.

Basically, Tony is adopted. Tony has an evil brother. Tony’s biological parents make an appearance, as do his ‘classic’ parents, Howard and Maria. It’s just weird. It’s kind of out there. I’m honestly not a huge fan of this and ignore a lot of it, but it is certainly a difference between MCU and 616.

3. Personality

I’m going to be very general. Both Tony’s have an outer self which they present to the public and an inner self, but they’re a bit different. Both Tony’s have struggled with self loathing, but I think MCU Tony’s actual self worth is a bit higher, even just at some points in time. Even if his ego is part of his facade, I think he does believe some amount of the “I’m awesome”, even if just when it applies to his own work/inventions/saving people. Not to say that these moments of fluctuating self esteem make him egotistical, but this combined with his egotistical act and snarky, non-stop sassy dialogue, he’s quite different in general personality from 616 Tony, who is much more reserved.

Some more recent iterations of 616 Tony have been adapted to reflect the snark of the MCU, but he’s not so snarky and he tends to approach things more seriously. This is not a dis on MCU Tony; I think MCU Tony uses false ego and excessive sassy jokes as a means to deflect and control, which I think is very interesting and it’s nice to see this explored more in depth in fic where you get to see the thought process behind the bravado. MCU Tony is a partier, a good times guy, especially during Iron Man 2, in which he really does disregard consequences to have fun (driving his race car, partying drunk in his suit, letting pretty  girls play with the armor, shooting off repulsor blasts for fun in a crowded room); I’m not bashing MCU Tony-- I think he had psychologically understandable reasons for behaving this way, the man was dying-- but 616 Tony really doesn’t act this way generally, and I think it’s a personality difference more than a difference of one being “better.”

616 Tony handles his stress differently, and they just have different psychological patterns, I think. I’m coming up kind of blank trying to think of a good comparable 616 arc, (sorry, I’m brain dead) but a less-than-perfect  example might be Tony’s brain delete arc; he’s “dying”, like in Iron Man 2 he  knows his expiration date, (circumstances are quite  a bit different), but he throws himself more into work, into a cause, and as he really fall apart, we  see him spiral into self doubt, remorse, fear, and insecurity, sort of falling into  himself with lots of manly tears and calling himself pathetic.

(Some things happen in this arc that a lot of people find Gross. I also find these events gross. But. I don’t count the sex in “World’s Most Wanted” as partying to cope with personal mortality, because I think both character involved are in “end of the world” mode, and it’s more seeking intimacy for comfort than partying to numb the hurt. Does this distinction make sense? No? Perfect, moving on.) 616 Tony is generally much more humble.

Whereas MCU Tony, I think, tries to outrun those feelings via parties or making dozens of new suits, or seeking comfort by comforting others! Gifting things to people, building things for people, highly personalized individual living quarters, teaching Nebula games and trying to show her a fun time when they were in peril together.

They have some traits in common, for sure! But canon being inconsistent both in the MCU and in 616, my observations aren’t the rule, because I’m kind of cherry picking and going based on limited memory. But off the top of my head, they’re both extravagant gift givers! Recall Tony gifting Pepper the giant bunny in Iron Man 3, and compare this with Tony carrying a mile high pile of Christmas gifts after shopping with Rumiko in Iron Man Vol. #3.

I would say that while both Tony Starks are considered humanitarians, this is much more fleshed out and supported by canon in 616. Some examples of his philanthropy in the MCU: Tony makes charitable donations of art and money, Tony has an organization which provides disaster relief/cleanup which is referenced in Spider-Man Homecoming, Tony has an MIT grant for students and staff members. But to be honest, a lot of his MCU philanthropy is only mentioned in passing, or is largely handled by other people on his behalf and on his dollar.

In 616, we see Tony using charity almost as a means of therapy: it’s something he does very privately, not in the public eye (at least, not always), and it’s something deeply personal to him. One example that immediately comes to mind is Tony’s home for disadvantaged girls in Iron Man Vol. 3, and we see scenes of Tony basically driving the streets at night, picking up underage prostitutes, feeding them and listening to their stories before bringing them to a home he’s established where he knows all the residents, and provides educational opportunities and protection.

Another more recent example in canon that the Tony fandom loves is that Tony canonically holds babies at an orphanage. Sorry I don’t have panels for all of this, this section got long and I have been working on answering this ask in a very scattered way for a very long time.

Both Tony’s are romantics, I literally could write a whole other post about their canon love life similarities and differences, but I will briefly say that while MCU Tony does the long on and off, and eventual ultimate commitment, to Pepper Potts, 616 Tony is a serial monogamist; he is always falling in love, and he’s definitely not a playboy, but the hero-ing, self loathing, and lifestyle make it very hard for him to keep anyone in his life, and most of his partners fuck his life up and betray him. Needless to say, 616 Tony is not married, and certainly not to Pepper Potts.

Oh, and I guess this is so obvious I almost forgot to include it, but a huge similarity between both iterations of Tony is that they both constantly use their own life as a bargaining chip, and will pretty much die for anything. Or be the bad guy for a good reason (at least, in his own mind... see Civil War, or Hickmanvengers; 616 Tony, especially, does not shy away from making the hard decisions, and this leads to a lot of guilt and tension in his  relationships-- often with Steve because 616 Steve/Tony angst fans are well fed, I guess)

Remember that time Tony had Steve’s mind wiped because Tony felt that Steve’s inflexible morality might hinder the Illuminati’s ability to save the world? And it eats Tony up inside and erupts into a homicidal fight when Steve finally gets his memory back? Me too.

Tony Stark as a character is defined by sacrifice, both of his own life but also of his own happiness and reputation and conscience, I think, in a lot of ways, and we see this in many universes. I could go on about Tony’s propensity for sacrifice in the less obvious ways, because I think in terms of heroic sacrifice, Tony has done a lot that other heroes wouldn’t be able to do because of moral inflexibility and conflicting philosophical schools of thought; Tony really is the “whatever it takes” type, and often believes the ends justify the means if he deems a threat worse than the potential wrong that could be done in preventing the threat. We see this a little bit in the MCU in the creation of Ultron, and in Civil War with the Accords. But there’s a whole lot more going on there I don’t want to get into.

4. Alcohol

MCU Tony’s alcoholism is never really explicitly explored. He is shown drinking in Iron Man 1, and in Iron Man 2 he drinks a lot and makes a fool of himself publicly, but MCU Tony doesn’t get any specific narrative arc focused on his drinking, and if I recall correctly, I don’t think he ever refers to his drinking as alcoholism in the movies? Also, while his binge drinking and embarrassing behaviors ostensibly stop after the events of Iron Man 2, he is shown drinking on screen at least one other time after that which I can remember, and it wasn’t a “falling off the wagon” moment, and an alcoholic in recovery such as 616 Tony would not take a drink casually. This article sheds a little light on some decisions made about Tony and alcohol in the MCU.

Alcoholism is a huge part of 616 Tony’s personality, which I went a bit more into depth about in this post, so I won’t repeat myself too much.

5. Their relationships with the Iron Man armor

A few points here: MCU Tony is famous for the “I am Iron Man” line being repeated throughout the franchise after he blows his own secret in the end of the first movie. MCU Tony sees himself as one with Iron Man, and the suit is the tech that enables him to be this version of himself. He sees Tony Stark and Iron Man as inextricable: you cannot separate them, and his identity is public. He, as Tony Stark, is an Avenger.

You may remember MCU Tony’s induction into the Avengers; in Iron Man 2, Nick Fury is forming the Avengers and tasks the Black Widow with going undercover to assess Tony to be a part of a hypothetical initiative. “Iron Man yes, Tony Stark no” and the comments about Tony as a narcissist may be funny, but the fact is, the snark and erratic personality of MCU Tony at the time of the formation of the Avengers in the movies is not at all like the Tony of the comics, at the time of the Avengers being formed. 

In 616, things are quite a bit different! Tony invents the Iron man armor to save himself (like in the MCU) and uses it for hero-ing, but in secret. He works very hard to protect his identity as Iron Man, and for a long time, as far as the world is concerned, Iron man is a mystery man piloting armor built by Tony, hired as Tony’s personal body guard, (hence the 616 Steve/Tony fandom’s proclivity for identity porn as a trope!) When the Avengers form, Iron Man is the Avenger, close friends with the Avengers, (particularly Steve!) and Tony Stark is just the benefactor of the Avengers, providing them with a place to live and finances with which to operate.

In the very early days, Tony did not have the “reactor” like in the MCU, but his chest plate did keep him alive, leading to some very dramatic shots of Tony charging up using a wall socket, lamenting the plight of a secret hero.

616 Tony, generally, and especially in some of these earlier comics, was quite reserved, rather serious, and very angsty, (in private of course.) He may be wealthy, but speaking generally, he’s much less ostentatious than MCU Tony, less of a show off, less into flashy things and grand gestures. Of course, this isn’t always true in the comics, and some iterations of Tony are more like this than others, but MCU Tony is showier, sillier, and more of a fun-times guy. Any MCU fan would find those panels quite contrary to the Tony Stark you know:

Iron Man 1

Iron Man 2

I think I would say that while MCU Tony sees himself and the Iron Man identity and the  armor as all being inextricably connected, we see a bit more compartmentalization with 616 Tony, who pretends that the armor is a whole separate person for years when his identity was private, and we see instances in older and newer comics, in which Tony  is uncomfortable with some aspect of himself as Iron Man (for instance, during the second drinking arc, Tony temporarily swears off being Iron Man entirely, or for another example, when Tony is in a comma and Tony AI exists during Secret Empire, Tony “lives” in the Iron Man suit, and I think this could be interpreted as a meta parallel to Steve during this arc; Steve has had some core aspect of his character inverted, Captain America becoming Captain Hydra, so Tony experiences a similar inversion-- Tony Stark and Iron Man are forcibly merged, in a way that Tony seems deeply uncomfortable with, if his digital drinking relapse is any indication. But I digress; sorry for the tangent.)

Okay this post is inexcusable long, and very, very tangential, and I don’t feel like I’ve really covered everything I wanted to. But it has been sitting in my inbox for too long and if I don’t post it now I never will, so I hope this long, rambling thing has been a little bit helpful to you! Thank you so much for asking, I had a lot of fun rambling about this.

If you want to read a similar post, but well written and organized, with other insights, this post by Sineala answers a similar question!

[vegetalass]

Hey there! Your RDR2 headcanons are fantastic, and I’m itching for more! I’m not sure if you’re still active, but if you are... Could I possibly request some Arthur, Javier, Charles, and/or Sean headcanons about a tall female/gender neutral reader who is insecure about their height? SFW or NSFW welcome. 💕

hi!!!🥰 Thank you for enjoying my work so much!!! 

I’m not really all that active, but I’m around! I guess you could call it an indefinite hiatus (?), maybe, but I’m not too sure! I mostly just pick and choose the asks I feel like doing if I’m in the mood to write.💘

that being said.... in the words of our lord and savior megan thee stallion... PUT THEM LEGS ON HIS HEAD NOW HE LOVE TALL WOMEN AHHH (she’s talking about all the rdr2 boys)

find me at @ihatebnha... 

enjoy! 

-

Arthur 

This man is fucking stupid 

For all the insecurities he has regarding himself, he definitely isn’t going to be aware about ANY of yours

And he definitely isn’t going to notice anything is upsetting you unless you specifically tell him 

And even then, he’s not really going to understand why you’re insecure in the first place

This is mostly because he doesn’t think you have flaws. If he doesn’t see anything wrong with you, then clearly you don’t either and whatever it is that’s bothering you doesn’t matter and therefore isn’t important or will go away on it’s own 

Honestly, in Arthur’s mind, he has bigger fish to fry than worry about whether his girl is short or tall

If he likes you and did enough to get you to like him back (especially since he has a lot of baggage), then that’s all that matters

If you bring it up with him, however, it’s big dumbass hours

“Arthur, I’m just so… tall! Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Tall is strong. Strong is good.” 

“But… I don’t look like a lady.. Like Tilly and Mary-Beth and Karen and all them other girls… Doesn’t that bother you?” 

“Why would I want you to look like them…?” 

It takes awhile, but if you keep it up it probably does get to the point where he realizes you’re genuinely insecure, especially if he’s been brushing it off for a while and your mood starts being affected

It’s then that he’ll pull you aside and just explain to you that he couldn’t give a damn what you look like, since you’re wayyyyyyy out of his league anyway

Probably does that thing where he talks to you for like an hour about how the lifestyle you live is dangerous and love is fleeting so all that matters is that you have each other and blah blah blah 

And you have to be like …. “Arthur…. hush…” 

Honestly, even when he’s aware that you’re insecure about your height, not much is gonna change EXCEPT he’ll probably try to pick you up wayyyyy more often 

Which would be weird except for the fact he can totally do it no sweat 

(because I mean… look at this dude….) 

You scream and tell him to put you down and he’s like “What? Think I can’t pick up my woman? I’m a lil offended…” 

And then he’ll just wrap your legs around his torso and you have to hold on for dear life because he’s not gonna put you down

Overall, Arthur is too much of an outlaw with abandonment issues to worry about looks. Frankly… he sees woman he likes… he gets boner… It’s pretty simple. 

Charles 

Charles is… both more and less helpful than Arthur 

He definitely takes the same approach of like… “Tall = Strong, which is GOOD,” but he’s so casual about it that it’s honestly not going to be that reassuring 

You try to bring it up once or twice and he just… doesn’t really get that it’s an insecurity and not something that can be solved with a simple, logical answer

He kinda just assumes that since you’re together, you already know he likes how you look 

(Because he really, truly does)

So he wonders why he would need to say anything to you about it other than something like, “you look fine,” if you brought it up

This is okay for the most part… but on the days when you’re more bummed out about it than usual, it can be really annoying

Plus, getting him into the zone where he can talk about feelings is pretty hard

Not that he’s not willing to, I just think he doesn’t automatically know when you’re trying to have a heart to heart vs. when you’re just chatting 

Especially since you don’t have that much alone time at camp and are often focused on missions otherwise

So you would really have to pull him away from whatever he was doing to fully show him that you were serious

He’s great though, because once he truly gets what you mean, he’s going to put in the most effort to mitigate those feelings 

Not only does he fully express in words how much he adores you (height and all) after you explain, he’s gonna try to put more effort into his actions, as well, so you can feel it without him having to reassure you verbally

Holding you from behind, rubbing your thighs, leaning on you more, kissing your ankles etc.

And God forbid anybody make a comment about your height, he’s going to snap their spine

Honestly, to Charles, long as you’re looking healthy and strong and responding to him normally he thinks you look GOOD 

Javier 

He likes tall women. That’s it. That’s the tweet. 

In a relationship, Javier is honestly just happy as long as you’re happy, so the moment you show signs of being insecure, he’s on that shit trying to fix it

Pretty in-tune and open with emotions in general, so it’s never been hard for you to talk about these kinds of things together (much less anything else)

Though he’s another guy who just assumes that you already knew he liked how you looked, he’s definitely not one to shy away from telling you OR showing you if there’s ever moments when you’re feeling extra down about it

(But that’s not often since he isn’t really shy about loving on you) 

Especially if he gets to kiss you and make you smile or laugh while doing it

Whispers in your ear about how much he loves you, hands are always NOT where they should be, creeping up your skirt and trousers, limbs all tangled up when you lay on each other at the campfire, etc. 

Probably the easiest one to talk to about the whole thing, as he’s always willing to listen to you and immediately understands what you mean when you bring it up 

Since I’m sure he sometimes feels like the shortest guy in the group

That being said, since you’re not afraid to be honest about how you feel, you balance each other out very well

And Javier loves knowing he’s the only one who gets to take you down (SPICY!!!) 

If another guy makes any comments about you, expect him to get pretty raunchy about how much he likes you

(For Ex: You wish you were me, bitch!!!) 

It’s both flattering and embarrassing at the same time

Sean 

The fact that you even gave Sean the time of day is enough to make his pants tight, so he is definitely not thinking about your height

There is probably nothing wrong with you that he can actually point out, and probably genuinely thinks that you have no flaws

He honestly doesn’t even figure that there’s anything you could actually insecure about, mostly because he loves all of you, always has, and probably always will 

So to learn you’re unconfident about your height is kinda shocking to him

Especially since he also isn’t shy about loving on you 24/7… 

So for it not to be enough to quell your worries… that must mean it’s pretty serious 

(He’s like: “ARE YA KIDDIN?”) 

Definitely does his best to vocally and physically reassure you all the time (even if you don’t need it)

(He’s not as smooth as Javier is, though)

All his suggestive comments get a thousand times worse, and he’s always at your side or trailing right behind you

Also always wants you in his lap. No matter what. Be in his lap. Aggressively pats his lap until you sit on him. 

Definitely randomly points out you guys are together to whoever is even remotely looking ing your direction

“You see that fine thing? Yea, that one… She’s all mine…” klsdjfalksjd

It probably gets to the point where he starts using embarrassing nicknames or getting in the way of being sneaky and you have to tell him to knock it off

(Unless you’re, idk, into it *wink wonk*) 

But he really just means well  

He just really doesn’t want you to feel insecure about yourself, and would do anything to change that, even if it’s a little overbearing

[curious-menace]

OH OH!! I know everyones legit a giant, and that isn’t excluding The Riddler, but- maybe HCs for a taller S/O? If any of these asks become too much, just let me know!

im trying to do 4 bullet points for “all the riddlers” asks so i dont overexert myself 

Riddlers x tall s/o

Arkham riddler

hmm. well he likes the rest of you. he can always wear lifts or something. 

sorry that was mean, he didnt intend it that way. He’s just a little insecure is all. he’s not used to being the smaller one and lets be real. he’s got some trust issues with people who are bigger or stronger than him coughthanksbatmancough.

Actually maybe this will be good? he needs a bodyguard. how good at fighting are you? 

he absolutely HATES that you can just pick him up like he weights nothing. maybe if he’d stop falling asleep at his desk you wouldn't have to pick him up bridal style and take his tired ass to bed

Blacklight Riddler

short so? excellent. tall so? also excellent. he likes to be little spoon so i hope you like having someone permanently attached to ur chest in bed. 

he’s only 5ft8 so i hope you dont mind lifting him up to reach high places or getting stuff off the top shelves. 

he likes having a tall partner to make him feel protected. he’s going to stand on his tippy toes and look over your shoulder like this >:3 when someone challenges him. 

He REALLY likes being picked up and spun around. he really is a big kid sometimes.

BTAS Riddler

dont be an insecure baby eddie. you're the same height as your s/o, you're both tall stop whining. 

He’s got an issue with he and his s/o being equal. he likes to be holding all the cards. its not a healthy mindset, he needs to get over it. 

i can see him asking you not to wear heels or stuff that makes you look even taller. he wont tell you directly but he will huff and pout when you do it.

ok he’s got to admit he likes being able to dance with you at face level. its nice not to hurt his back for a change. 

Original Riddler

oh thank god, someone who knows his struggles. how do you stretch out your sleeves? or do you just buy stuff that is too large and have it taken in? are ceilings getting lower or is it just me?

he likes being able to wear your clothes. all his other s/o’s have been too small for that kind of thing. 

its kinda funny that everyone refers to you two as giants 

the only problem is sleeping. you need a double king sized bed to accommodate the pair of you, and space is at a premium in gothams hideout market. 

Telltale Riddler

he’s kinda short but he’s not super pissy about it.

“i will climb you like a tree!” vibes. small, so he’s closer to hell. 

he doenst like you looking taller than him in photos so you always have to crouch. in person he doesn't really care. he’ll probably use your height to his advantage, either in a fight or just around the house with his death traps. 

constantly sticking his face in your tummy or chest for hugs. will motor boat you if he thinks he can get away with it. i dont care that he’s the oldest riddler he can be immature when he thinks no one is looking. 

Zero year Riddler

finally! an equal! someone worthy of status at his side!

you two are going to rule over gotham like gods! the only thing that can stop you is door frames and low ceilings. 

has put truck backing up noises on his phone to play while you walk just to mess with you. don't worry, he wont do it if it upsets you, hes just a wind up merchant. 

likes to pretend he’s smaller than you and cant reach things so you’ll do it for him. yes he is that lazy. 

There ya go acrylic. i'm trying to limit myself for a little while by doing less points. i think ive done more asks in the last 3 days than ive done in my entire life haha. id like to work on some of my own stuff for a little bit but i feel weird having the asks closed hah

Got something you wana talk about ? send me an ask or a dm! im always game to talk about our favorite curious menace 💚💜

[f0rever15elf]

I hope this weekend finds you well! I was hoping you could write hcs on the guys with a short s/o. Who would tease? Who would find it adorable? Who has a size kink? Teasing doesn’t bother me much when it’s from close friends but sometimes people can be jerks, especially when they’re not someone your particularly close with. Anyway, love your blog!

I’m so sorry that this is so late! Things have been rather wild lately with the holidays, but I hope that you still enjoy this! I’m on the short squad so this made me really happy to write! <3 

Head Canon Masterlist

When you’re short

Whiskey: Oh my LORD he thinks you’re just the absolute cutest thing he ever did see!! You’re so small and he can just wrap himself around you completely and he will go on and on and ON about how adorable you are. I don’t think he would be the kind to tease you about your size, he’s just too overwhelmed with how cute he finds you. And you look so pretty in the little outfits he buys you. One of his favorite things to do is come up behind you and rest his chin on top of your head while he wraps his arms around you. It does give him a heart attack, however, every time you climb up on something to reach something up high (”We have a ladder, why are you climbing on the counter?!” before lifting you off to get whatever you need)

Javi: Javi would tease, absolutely. He like seeing how flustered it makes you, but he also knows how to read you so he knows when to ease up on the teasing and praise you instead. He really does love how small you are, and that comes from his protective streak. You’re easier to shield away from things when he can hid you behind him. He does tend to panic sometimes if he ever loses you in a crowd, however. When he finds you again, you’ll be glued to his side. Your size brings with it endearing name related to your smallness, including a few that you’re pretty sure he made up. 

Frankie: SIZE KINK YESSIR. He didn’t know he had a size kink until he met you. He can remember the day it happened too. You came out of the bedroom wearing one of his shirts and it reached your knees and something inside him snapped. He likes being in positions where he’s over you, partially because of his desire to keep you safe at all times, and partially because he loves seeing how small you look under him. Frankie wouldn’t really tease you about your height, he loves it way too much. You do notice that when you move in, he moves the things you use more often down to the shelves you can easily reach without being prompted. He also doesn’t call attention to it cause he’s a sweetie like that. 

Ezra: He definitely has a size kink too. But it’s more of a torturous slow burn type thing. He loves watching your reach for things up on your tip toes, the way your shirt rides up and the look of focus and determination on his face just really gets him going. He has this nasty little habit of sneaking up behind you (how is he so quiet?!) and pressing himself against you while you’re stretched out before whispering the most profane and poetic things you have ever heard in your ear and he’ll take you against that counter if you’ll let him. Of course, after the fact, he always helps you get down whatever it is you need. He also will straight up ask you to wear his shirts because he loves seeing how small you look in them. You’re adorable and sexy and he wants you to feel confident in that. 

Oberyn: If the gods made it, then it delights him. Size doesn’t really matter to him, but he does like how small your hands are in his when he walks the courtyards with you. He also likes being able to wrap around you so easily when the two of you are lazing about as he is wont to do. Any insecurities you ever show about your small stature are instantly washed away the moment he opens his mouth to speak to you. He adores you, treasures you, and he will show that to you in any way he can. He won’t ever tease you about your height, especially if you’re insecure about it. He does make sure that all your gowns/robes are properly hemmed by the castle’s seamstresses so you never risk tripping. 

Din: He likes your shortness. You’re easier to protect, and you can reach into smaller spaces that he’s too tall to weasel his way into. But he also fins you exceedingly adorable. You can curl up in his chair like a loth kitten and he’s found you numerous times sleeping there with Grogu. I wouldn’t say he has a size kink necessarily, but the fact that you can curl up in his lap so easily makes his heart do a weird stuttering thing that it’s never done before. He’s a protector, and he likes feeling like he can completely protect you. 

Pero: You’re small, so he has to help you with many things. Not that he minds, especially with you what him so closely when he’s doing a task that your height makes difficult. He preens under the attention. He’s DEFINITELY into the size difference. He’s a man of few words, expect when you’re being intimate with one another, then it’s a slew of words about how small you are and how beautiful, how you fit so well beneath him. He’ll go on and on while he’s pleasuring you and he loves to see how small you look beneath him. He’ll occasionally tease you about it, but more often than not it’s an exasperated sigh when he walks in on you trying to get something up high while balanced precariously on some stacked stools. He’ll pick you up off of them, set you to the side, and get whatever you need. You’re stubborn. But he likes that too. 

Max: He. Will. Tease. You. All the live long day. He’s taken to making his own coffee all the time because one time you got so fed up with him putting things up out of your reach like you’re some overgrown toddler that you started putting garlic into his coffee. He was sick all day after that. But that didn’t stop the teasing. He doesn’t really verbalize it in an endearing way, but he really does like the size difference between the two of you. Especially in bed. You’re already fragile compared to him, so it’s not that that he’s worried about, he just likes how tiny you are. It sends him on a very odd power trip, especially since he knows that once all other things are equal between the two of you, he’ll still have height as an advantage. And he talks about that. Often. Jackass. 

Maxwell: (Disclosure, I haven’t seen ww84 yet, so I’m going with the characterization I have of him for my fic until I see the film) Oh all the better to dress you up when you’re short and adorable! All your clothes will be perfectly tailored to your figure, nothing to long for you. He wouldn’t tease, that’s not really his thing. He does like the feeling of power or control that being taller than you give him, though, and that ends up riling him up sometimes at home, especially if your traipse around his his clothes. But mostly he just like dressing you in nice things and seeing you smile when they fit perfectly. 

Marcus: He’s the perfect mix of the occasional teasing peppered with praises and adoration. You height makes you perfect for cuddling and he takes full advantage of that quite often. A lot like Frankie, when/if you move in with him, he moves your more frequently used items to the lower shelves and you notice a new step ladder next tot he washing machine that wasn’t there before you moved in. Marcus has less of a thing for your height, and more of a thing for when you wear heels (if you wear them, please wear them, oh god please wear them). If you don’t wear heels, that’s ok too, what’s most important to him is your comfort. His favorite thing to do with you, however, to compensate for your height is to pick you up and sit you on the counter so your faces are more level with one another. then his lips are on yours and time loses all meaning. 

[heavenunderthemoon]

Growing Pains {Chapter Four}

Warnings: None, I believe. 

Prologue, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three

Nevada 1992

"I'm thoroughly spooked, can we go now?"

You rolled your eyes at the ten year old beside you. His whines had risen an octave over the last five minutes, the cause most probably being the increasing proximity to the house before the two of you, all of them had been ignored as you pedaled faster, hoping to reach the dilapidated structure before sunset.

The boy's scrawny arms looped around your waist, tightening to an almost suffocating degree every time you rode over a pothole and almost making you wheeze from discomfort. Spencer's bike was out for repair- 'out for repairs' was just a silly way of saying Spencer had all but begged your older brothers to take a look at the broken chain and then paid them $15 (probably too much, but he was desperate) to fix it. The bike was being looked at now, actually, but that still left the Reid boy without transportation. You had practically had to force him onto yours.

'I hate when you steer, you ride into every puddle you see and I didn't bring my rain boots-'

'Jesus, Sherlock, I'll go around them-'

'But, you don't have a helmet-'

'You can borrow my dad's-'

'Is your bike even registered?'

All of his questions had made you groan, almost pulling out your hair and all but shoving him onto your bike, taking up the front while he stood on the pedestals allocated for passengers in the back. Your bike wasn't anything flashy. In fact, it was a hand-me-down from your brothers, the seat sitting just a bit too high at the moment, though your dad claimed you would grow into it.

You pulled over, your worn tires coming to a halt in the over-grown grass, weeds poking up from every direction and basically engulfing the lawn before you.

"We just got here, Spencer, please, five minutes?" You shot a pleading look to the boy behind you, your father's helmet consuming the entirety of his head. His glasses, cracked from when Peter Thompson had socked him in the lunchroom the other week, slid down his nose and he pushed them back up as he hopped off the bike. His hands went to his shirt, wiping them across the material as he sighed. You liked when he did things like that, kid things.

"Fine, five minutes." He seceded, and you put the kickstand in place before hopping off the bike yourself, leading the way to the sagging building.

1497 Columbia Drive.

The house was practically a local hub for folklore. All ghost stories for the children in your community originated from this house in particular. Your dad said it was all hocus pocus, nothing of substance. It was probably just a bunch of kids trying to get a good laugh out of scaring the little kids, he even lectured you on the history of the house, no murders or strange incidents ever occurring on the property. But still, you had asked Spencer to come with you to check it out.

Your feet crunched the gravel beneath it, poking around the house here and there.

"What do you think you're going to find, Y/N? A ghost hiding under the rock?" His tone was condescending, as it was sometimes. Though, that was something he didn't quite know he was doing. You knew that. You knew that if he knew that he came across like that, like he thought less of you, he would never do that. His attitude was a little bit worse today than usual. His mother wasn't doing too well, her rants becoming longer, her paranoia keeping the boy from hanging out with you on most days. You had taken to climbing into his window to hang out, or sneaking him out when you could. But the tone still stung a bit. "This is stupid." He continued.

A small sigh escaped your lips as you kicked at a rock, shoving your hands into your pockets. "How come everything I want to do is stupid?" It was petty. Petty, and emotional, and a million other things you never were because you liked to keep things in, but your insecurities began pouring out of you like a broken spout. "Why are you even friends with me? I'm too dumb for you, you have to explain things to me a million different times and even then, sometimes I still don't get it. You're gonna go away someday, because you're smart and you're better than...than here. Than this. So, why do you even hang out with me?" The words fell sloppily from your lips, only angering you further because you knew how eloquently Spencer would've been able to express his thoughts.

And this was something that had bothered you for a while. Since you had met him, actually. Because you were different. Spencer Reid was different. And while everyone else in town thought that him being different was a bad thing, you saw it as something good. Good, because he was going to be something. He was going to be something big, something bigger than anything you could ever be, whatever he wanted, whatever he wished for, because he could. Because he was Spencer. And you were just...you. You didn't skip grades or read books super fast or have a photographic memory. You weren't a genius, your brain didn't move a million miles per minute, and how boring it must be for Spencer to have to hang out with you.

Your eyes stung with tears, quickly welling and spilling hotly down your reddened cheeks and you were grateful that your back was still to the boy because he had never seen you cry, not even when you broke your index finger playing baseball two years ago, and you weren't entirely sure that Spencer would know how to comfort you if he saw you crying.

But, he did know. He didn't say anything to acknowledge it aloud, probably because he feared you might turn around and deck him right then and there if he did, but he noticed. He saw the way your shoulders had tightened as you spoke and then began shaking lightly when you finished. He noticed the tremor in your voice, the small sniffles escaping your figure. He noticed your clenching fist, your nails digging into your palm, and the stiffness in your body, as if pleading with yourself to stop. He had never seen you cry. Come to think of it, he had never seen you sad. And it was then that he realized that he had never seen you sad because you tended to turn that sadness into anger. You turned your tears into insults and your wounds into punches because it was easier that way. He realized that you weren't as invincible as he thought. You weren't some fearless, perpetually angry girl who finished every fight she started. You were human, you were vulnerable. And this revelation made him feel better, as much as he hated to say it. Because he had always felt incredibly inferior to you. He felt inferior when he saw you speaking to your other friends at the park or the library. He felt inferior when he saw your family,  two brothers and a father (all of which seemed to speak in grunts and were constantly shoving food into their mouths whenever Spencer saw them). No matter how cave-man-like your family was, they were there. They were present. They weren't grabbing your shoulders, screaming about aliens, or the government, or tiny microscopic societies that he couldn't see- something Diana did often. He felt inferior when you stood up for yourself, or for him, when you weren't afraid to tell people to shut up, or ask for help, which was something he could never quite bring himself to do.

And this, these tears, these insecurities, brought you down to his level, gave you a fall from grace that was just enough to make him brave, even if it was for a split second, to grab your shoulder, and pull you into his embrace. His hug was bony. He smelled like cheap laundry detergent, lemon shampoo, and a bit of sweat. He had begun growing, just the tiniest bit, that year and it was enough to put you both at the same height. Two ten year olds standing in front of that allegedly haunted house, a scrawny little boy with a brain far too big for his own good and a girl who had been previously crying but was now just standing there, stunned, unsure of what to do in Spencer's embrace.

"What are you doing?" And for once you weren't loud. You weren't loud, or obnoxious, or confident. Your voice was tiny, small, and confused, because Spencer didn't like touching, and neither did you, really. You didn't hug each other. You gave each other high-fives, or fist bumps, or small nudges to the other in greetings or farewells, but never hugs.

Spencer didn't move, keeping his stance the same, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, his cheek to your shoulder. "Why am I your friend? Why are you mine? Everyone in town thinks I'm weird, and they tease you just for being my friend. Why put up with that? Why be friends with the kid who has to make multiple trips to the library each week and gets upset when he has to return them? Why be friends with the kid who can't even act like a kid. I get along better with adults, and those are the ones who don't talk about me behind my back. Why are you friends with me? Because I'll tell you why I'm friends with you. Because you ask me to explain things to you a million times, because you care so much about what I'm saying that you want to understand it too, even if its boring or complicated. You listen when I talk about nerdy things, and you ask my mom how she's doing- you aren't afraid of her like every other kid in your grade."

Your tears had stopped now, and you weren't entirely sure if it was due to the shock of Spencer hugging you or the shock of Spencer practically yelling as he let go of you, grabbing you by the shoulders and looking you in the eye.

"You're my best friend, and I'm sorry I said this was stupid. I would much rather do a million stupid things with you than be a genius alone."

He was a little breathless at the end of it, eyes still glued onto your face for some kind of sign that you weren't still sad, or angry. But it was blank, and suddenly his mind was rewinding through everything he said. Did he say something wrong? And just as he was going to apologize profusely for hugging you, you were pulling him into your own embrace. You were strong, his body hitting yours with a thud. You smelled like mechanical oil, probably from your dad's garage, and a hint of vanilla. Your hair, collected into a pony tail, though baby hairs clung to your forehead in a pool of sweat, brushed his nose and tickled his nostrils. You squeezed him when you hugged him and he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you in reassurance. He had never had a friend apart from you, never had a person to tell about his day, about his dreams, about the weird thing he read that day. He had you, and he didn't now what life would be like without you, but the thought scared him. It terrified him to think about a future without you in it, and so he clung to you tighter.

"Let's go home. Nothin' special about this house, anyways." You pulled away, elbowing him lightly in the ribs, the tiniest of smiles on your face and he beamed, because he did that. He made you smile.

"Eh, I thought it was pretty cool." Spencer said with a shrug, walking back to the bike.

-

QUANTICO, January 2012

The plane ride back from the case was bumpy, turbulence instantly shaking the large aircraft, causing it to be physically impossible for the team to sleep on the way home- well, unless you were Rossi. You could swear that David Rossi could sleep through just about everything. After grabbing his usual drink from the jet bar, the old man had chosen his usual window seat, only a couple rows back from where you sat with JJ, Derek, and Emily, snoring peacefully within twenty minutes.

You groaned in envy, tilting your head back to rest on the cushion as you did so. The blonde to your left chuckled at your dramatics, having gotten used to your behavior by now, Derek and Emily in tow. The three were the trio you had found yourself most acquainted with on the team, well, them and Penelope. You had a soft spot in your heart for the quirky technical analyst, the woman all but forcing herself into your life by digging through your personal files and inviting herself over for breakfast before long cases. How strange it had been to open the door to your apartment and find Penelope and Derek on the other side.

"Good morning!"

Your hair was sticking up in about twenty different directions, something the two agents found rather astounding, but chose not to comment on. At the office you were...put-together, to say the least. You were professional, a military woman through and through. You showed up to work early, your paperwork was always done, your shirts were always ironed, your laces were always tied. Penelope would argue that she never saw you blink- something that had made Derek laugh and JJ roll her eyes at, but Emily secretly agreed, because, man, did you?

At this point you had only been working for the BAU for a week or so, and still, they knew nothing about you. And so, here she was, gift-basket in hand while Derek carried along three steaming hot lattes that you could smell even from this distance.

Your eyebrows knitted together, head tilting in a manner that was scarily akin to their boy wonder- another thing they chose not to comment on. After that first day, the introduction between the two that had gone very strangely and the obvious avoidance on both of their parts, the team had chosen to skirt around the Reid boy and the Y/L/N girl. Things like that had a way of working themselves out. Besides, it hadn't affected their work and so personal matters were to remain...well, personal.

"Uh, good morning?" You stepped aside, allowing the two agents to enter your apartment. It was a one-bedroom, close to work so the commute wasn't too bad, and extremely empty. Penelope could've guessed it would be that way before entering. Your desk was the same way, only a picture of what she assumed was your dad and your brothers and you in your uniform to adorn your small space. Furniture, a lonely sofa, beige and boring, and a coffee table severely lacking anything other than a newspaper that Derek could see was three days old. The crossword section was flipped open, only three words filled out. Strewn across the floor were boxes, emptied out, mostly, but the few that remained full were labeled 'BOOKS' and 'SUMMER ClOTHES". The latter gave the two agents a headache, the very action of attempting to envision you in anything other than your usual jeans, leather jacket, and boots too difficult for their brains to process.

Your apartment was pristine, another thing that was predictable. It smelled of coffee, and as the three agents ventured further into the apartment, it was apparent as to the source of the smell; a half-empty pot sitting on the marble countertops.

"I'm sorry there isn't breakfast, if I would've known you were coming over I would've made...cereal."

Derek's eyebrows scrunched at the food choice and you let out an awkward chuckle.

"I can't cook. I'm horrible, like, burn down the house horrible." Your hand grabbed the coffee he was extending, giving a grateful nod as you looked to Penelope.

"Sorry for the short notice-"

"No notice, actually." You corrected with a smirk, eyes looking over the rim of the coffee lid as you took a sip.

"Right- no notice. I just, I figured if I gave you notice it would give you a chance to say no, and that's fine! if you want us to leave or anything we can, but we really need more women in the office and you seem like some badass, aviator wearing, leather jacket having, military chick and I really feel like we cold be good friends! I always text back, and I, for one, am I a good cook, so I can help you with that...oh, and I am amazing at remembering birthdays! I brought a gift basket too! I wasn't sure if you liked chocolate, or cheese, or fruit, this has all three-"

"Give her a second, babygirl." The Morgan shook his head, throwing a look to you. It was kind, an understanding look that meant he understood just how overwhelming his blonde counterpart could be but but also pleaded for understanding. Understanding of how Penelope was, of how good of a friend she could be.

But he didn't need to do that.

He didn't need to ask you to understand, or to be patient, or to give someone a chance  He didn't need to because she reminded you all too much of a scrawny little kid with his nose in a book, a mouth far too smart for his own good, and a lack of any defense system.

The paper cup landed onto the countertop gently as you placed it down, arms crossing over themselves.  Your arms were a bit chilled, nothing but a t-shirt and boxer shorts worn to bed, and a lazy smile quirked at the corner of your lips at the strange, kind, lovely blonde before you.

"I like cheese and chocolate and fruit."  Penelope visibly relaxed at the comment. "Stay, I'm in need of some good friends."

"I'm tired." You mumbled grumpily, chin coming to rest on your hand.

JJ snorted, digging further into the small bag of chips she had managed to snag from the vending machine at the airport before the jet had taken off. "You could sleep."

With a click of your tongue, you smiled sarcastically, nodding your head. "Good idea, I didn't think about that." As another snore reached your ears, you tossed a glare back to the sleeping Rossi, rolling your eyes. "Jesus, does he have to rub it in?" You snapped.

Emily tucked a curl behind her ear, cracking a grin. "You can sleep when you get home, the flight's only three hours out."

"No, because when I get home I have to shower first, the plane makes me feel gross." Your shoulders gave way to a shiver that made Derek laugh. "Should I sleep or should I shower? I could sleep in the shower- but I'm also hungry."

A light tap on your forearm alerted you to the chip bag being shoved onto you, an offering by the Jareau woman. Perhaps if you hadn't known her for as long as you had- which, admittedly still wasn't that long, but you digressed- you would have taken one. Yes, JJ was offering, but JJ and her chips was not a love you came between and if you took one now she would tell you that you owed her a chip bag when you next passed a vending machine and the woman, small and kind as she was, was not as forgiving when it came to being owed chips.

With a tired wave of your hand you stood, stretching your arms for a moment, fingertips grazing the jet ceiling, before turning on your heel. "I'm gonna go find some peanuts or something."

You made your way to the back of the jet, toward the coffee machine station and bar set up. Cabinets above and below the both of them had you suspecting that there was a secret stash of peanuts- or, perhaps, a five-course meal that no one else knew about. Day-dreaming of a roasted turkey and baked Mac and cheese you hardly noticed a person exit the bathroom as you searched the cabinets. At the exact moment they had, the jet hit a spot of turbulence.

Your body, too tired to react quickly enough, lurched backward, directly into the body behind you.

Spencer yelped quietly, reacting on instinct and grabbing your body. The momentum of your body in addition to the swing of the jet had him stumbling into the wall, his hands securely around your waist, body pressed tightly against yours.

His touch wasn't foreign, perhaps that was why you stilled the way you did. As if you were frozen in an instant, neither of you moved as the plane shook for a moment, righting itself almost immediately and leaving the two of you staring, eyes entranced in one another.

For you, it was his touch. His touch that made you still, his touch that made you forget the search for food, the whines of exhaustion, the impatience to go home. His touch, one you knew quite well as a child, one you associated with friendship, childhood, and safety. One you associated with trust, and companionship. One that was returned to you in an instant, a feeling that you forgot after all these years- no, not forgot. You hadn't forgotten his touch, or, at least, your body hadn't. No, your body remembered Spencer Reid quite well. Your body remembered climbing into Spencer Reid's window, your hands calloused and hardened from the long climb to the top of the tree beside it. Your body remembered biking around town with him, thighs and calves burning as you pushed yourself harder, the amount of books he had loaded onto your bike because his couldn't fit all of them on his own weighing you down. Your body remembered bloodied knuckles, busted lips, or black eyes, all of them your victory trophies because you were hotheaded, impulsive, and protective when the other children had something to say about him.

And he stilled because of your scent. As strange as it sounded, it hadn't changed after all these years. Unlike you, his mind hadn't tricked him into forgetting it. He didn't think it was possible for him to ever forget it. Mechanical oil and a hint of vanilla. It enveloped him like a warm blanket, a large tidal wave of the familiar scent hanging in the air, threatening to overtake him until the wave broke and it pulled him under with it. The scent consumed him, filling his nostrils, overtaking his senses and for a moment it was too much. It was too much for his brain to process because one moment he was walking out of the bathroom and the next you were in his arms and he was catching you.

You didn't know what to say. What was there to say? You missed him. You saw him at work everyday, you passed by him when you dropped off paperwork to Hotchner, you nodded at him in passing, and you stumbled into him when the jet hit an air pocket. How could you miss him if you did all of that, every single day?

But Spencer Reid was a person to be missed. Spencer Reid was a person you thought about. You thought about him every day, every hour, every minute, because how could you not? How could you just pretend you didn't know him? The boy who read you Sherlock Holmes on hot summer days, or slow danced with you in your father's basement? The boy who gave you pinky promises and made wishes on stars, and taught you the constellations. A boy you had known was extraordinary from the beginning and had turned out to be just that? A boy who was no longer a boy anymore, because the world didn't take well to boys with exceptional minds and sick mothers, the world turned boys like that into men, men who were different, even if just a little bit. That little bit was enough to let all the fears flood back in, the fears of the ordinary, the fears of not being enough. The fears that were solidified in your not-so-welcome welcoming.

The memory coursed through your veins, activating them as if it had been a shot of adrenaline.

Clearing your throat, you moved, standing up properly, pushing yourself out of his embrace and crossing your arms. "Thanks. Turbulence caught me off guard there."

For a moment he had you, just you and him and then you had turned to sand in his hands and once again he was losing you. Your expression had hardened. In another lifetime he had been the one to soften you, a person who had been able to break down those walls you worked so hard to build, but now he was the one locked out.

"What we really need to worry about are microbursts - a sudden downburst of air associated with thunderstorms - but small craft like this one, if we hit one of those at the wrong altitude..." He was rambling at this moment, rambling so badly he wished he could stop but he couldn't. His hands mimicked an explosion, his voice coming out much smaller, more reluctant. "Get pulverized."

Spencer Reid didn't like being vulnerable. And that's what he was around you, vulnerable. And being vulnerable did things to him, made him say things and do things that make him embarrassed, or ashamed, or even feel guilty. Just as he started to simultaneously feel all three of these things, you did something he hadn't quite expected.

You laughed.

"Jeez, Sherlock, ever so morbid, aren't you?" It was a soft chuckle, a tiny little snort, short-lived and gone in an instant, but it was enough to make Spencer grin.

His lips parted to respond. What he was going to say, he didn't know- something, anything- but, he never got to find out.

The pilot bell dinged over the speaker system.

"Passengers, this is your Pilot speaking. There are rough windstorms ahead, I'm receiving advisement to land immediately, please buckle your seatbelts, this will be a rough landing."

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Message me to be added to the taglist! Hope you enjoy:) xx Toby

[broccoliboix5peepeeman]

😅 I thought of another prompt. Can you please write a fic where Izuku overhears people saying Shouto is too good for him and they have no idea why he’d want to be with someone like Izuku. Izuku feels insecure and Shouto comforts him. Thank you! I promise I won’t spam you💜 I hope you’re having a wonderful day!

(I love this idea so much omg! I hope you’re also having a wonderful day! 💜)

Three days after they publicly announced their relationship, it started. At first, it was the strange looks that the other students - sans Class A - had given them when they had held hands in the corridor Monday morning. ‘Why are they staring at us?’ Shoto had leaned in to whisper, not relinquishing his grip on Izuku’s hand, which he was thankful for. ‘They’re probably just getting used to it, I think...’ Izuku had shrugged in response, looking at his red shoes. He felt for bad lying; he knew the looks the other students were giving him. He had been looked at that way his entire life. ‘They better hurry up and get used to it then.’ Shoto responded a little too loudly. ‘We’ve been hiding this long enough as it is.’ Izuku let out a small smile and turned to meet Shoto’s gaze. He gave his partner’s hand a squeeze of reassurance. ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine.’

When lunchtime came around, the whispers started. They were quiet and could easily be mistaken for idle chatter among students, but Izuku didn’t miss the way their eyes would glance over at him and Shoto as they walked to their usual table. He also didn’t miss the way they would stare at him like he was on trial, before leaning in to whisper something in hushed voices while giggling. ‘What’s wrong, Izuku?’ His boyfriend had asked him, bumping their shoulders together gently. However, his eyebrows furrowed with concern when Izuku startled in response, nearly dropping his lunch tray. ‘Nothing, Shoto-kun!’ He chuckled nervously and gripped the bright yellow tray tightly to stop his hands from shaking. ‘I’m just distracted.’ ‘Hmmm.’ As the days passed, the less subtle the other students became. After sweating himself into a deep paranoia, Izuku had decided to note down who exactly seemed to have an issue with him and Shoto. To his relief, it seemed that there were only really two groups of students who liked to stare and gossip about them, but that was still enough people to set Izuku on edge and make him worry to the pit of his stomach. It’s like being back in middle school. He thought gloomily. He wanted to tell Shoto what was going on, he really did. They had both agreed to be honest with each other from the start, and Izuku didn’t like keeping things from his boyfriend, especially after he had found out about One for All. However, he couldn’t put this on Shoto. He knew that his partner struggled with interpreting facial expressions and tended to have a short fuse when it came to something he was passionate about. If Izuku told him that these students were bothering him, he couldn’t entirely be sure that Shoto wouldn’t declare war on them like he had done to Izuku back in their first year. It was over a week later, when Izuku was in the school’s getabako, that he finally caught onto exactly what the other students were saying about them. Aizawa Sensei had kept Shoto back after classes finished, so Izuku had gone on without him. He had just finished switching shoes and had gotten up to leave when he heard a giggle a few rows down. Usually, Izuku would’ve just ignored it, but after moving towards the end of the getabako, he heard his partner’s name and stilled. ‘Todoroki-kun’s just so gorgeous. Every time I see him, I swear I melt a little bit!’ Someone spoke with a wistful sigh. Izuku’s eyes widened but he couldn’t really be mad about that. After all, Shoto was gorgeous. ‘So you’ve been saying.’ One of the girl’s friends replied, tone sounding bored. ‘Honestly, you need to get over him already, Kamiko-kun.’ ‘Why, Kei-chan? Because he’s supposedly dating that Midireo boy?’ A third voice asked. ‘Ugh! You mean Midoriya.’ The first girl - Kamiko from what Izuku gathered - spoke his name with such disdain that he flinched. ‘Yeah, not happening. They won’t last.’ ‘Why? They seem really happy together.’ The one called Kei-chan retorted. ‘I’ve never seen Todoroki-san smile before, but whenever he looks at Midoriya-’ ‘Come onnn, he smiles at him because Todoroki-kun knows he’s too good for him!’ Another girl, who had remained silent until now, groaned. ‘I mean he’s just so plain-looking!’ ‘Not to mention a crybaby!’ Izuku felt stung. He had been called a lot of things over the years - nothing could really compare to the stuff Kacchan used to say - but hearing them talk about him and Shoto like that? This was a new feeling. Sure, they hated Izuku and he couldn’t really argue with them. He was plain-looking. He was a crybaby - even All Might had told him as much. But the way they described his boyfriend? Like he was vain and superficial? You don’t know anything about him! Izuku wanted to scream. They didn’t know that Shoto was actually really insecure about his appearance. They didn’t know about his boyfriend’s recurring nightmares, where phrases like “you’re unsightly” and “you have your father’s eyes” have plagued his mind. You don’t know anything about us! Izuku shook his head violently. They didn’t know that Shoto was the first one to say “I love you”. They didn’t know the shape of Shoto’s lips when he first whispered to Izuku, “You’re beautiful”. They didn’t know what it felt like to take his boyfriend in his arms, never knowing if it will be the last time, because they’re training to be heroes and nothing is guaranteed. They knew nothing about them. Izuku frowned irritably and gripped the straps of his backpack, ready to storm out of the room. He knew Shoto would never string him along. But what if? His mind supplied. You've always known he’s too good for you. ‘Ain’t that the truth.’ The third girl exclaimed, startling Izuku. ‘All he does is cry until everyone’s attention is on him. It’s annoying and he’s so self-centred!’ That's not… Izuku wasn’t self-centred? He cried because he got emotional easily, not for attention. He felt his traitorous eyes begin to water and hated himself for proving their point. He hastily wiped his eyes using his sleeve. Shoto said… Even heroes must cry sometimes. ‘He’s also such a stalker.’ Another spoke. ‘Have you seen the notebooks he keeps with him all the time? Apparently he keeps notes on all his classmates and teachers! That’s so creepy!’ ‘He better not have a page on me!’ The group burst out into a fit of giggles just as Izuku audibly sniffed, trying to keep it together. Am I really being creepy taking notes? Kacchan had said something similar to him back in middle school, but his childhood friend thought that everything about Izuku was wrong or bad, so he hadn’t taken it seriously. He closed his eyes as the tears began to fall and leant his head against a getabako. Was Kacchan right? ‘Not to mention the mumbling.’ One of them wheezed. ‘So weird and scary!’ ‘Plus, the way he writes! I mean, have you seen his fingers? They’re so crooked and gross!’ Izuku looked down at his right hand, full of callouses and scars. He thought back to how Shoto had taken his hand yesterday, pressed a kiss to every digit and murmured “My hero”. ‘I know right! Ewww!’ Kamiko laughed. ‘He deserves it though, I mean, he’s so reckless! Did you see him at his first sports festival? Honestly, seeing him vs Todoroki-kun, it just makes it all the more obvious that he’s way too good for that loser-’ ‘If you have something to say about Izuku and I, you can say it to our faces.’ Izuku’s eyes widened and he shot up straight as the girls gasped. He knew that voice. Izuku hesitantly peeked around the corner of where he was hiding to find four girls with their backs to him and Shoto towering over them. His boyfriend looked at them coldly, arms crossed and ready to kill. ‘Ah! Todoroki-San!’ ‘We were just saying... Er...’ ‘You’re too good for a loser like Midoriya.’ At Kamiko’s outburst, Shoto stepped forwards and the room suddenly grew colder. Izuku felt a shiver run through his body. The movement must have alerted Shoto of his presence, as his eyes shot up and met Izuku’s own from across the room. When recognition dawned on him, his boyfriend’s hard expression instantly softened. They stared at each other for a moment, until one of the girls went to follow his gaze. Before she could spot Izuku though, Shoto broke off and resumed his icy glare. ‘I am not too good for him. If anything Izuku is too good for me.’ His boyfriend began, leaving no room for interruption. ‘He is my hero and the kindest and strongest person I know..’ ‘But I-’ ‘Quite frankly, I don’t give a shit about what you have to say.’ He raised his hand to silence her. ‘But if you’re going to badmouth Izuku to put me on a pedestal, then we’re going to have a big problem.’ Shoto bent down to be at eye level with Kamiko. ‘You don’t know him and you don’t know me - you don’t deserve to. Izuku may forgive easily but I don’t.’ His boyfriend stood to his full height again. ‘If I catch any of you spouting shit about Izuku or our relationship again, I can promise you, you will regret it.’ He stepped aside. ‘Go.’ The group immediately scattered - silently so as to not further enrage Shoto. When it was just the two of them left in the room, Izuku stepped out fully and wiped away some more stray tears. ‘That wasn’t very heroic, Sho.’ He sniffled as his boyfriend strode over. When he reached him, he took Izuku’s face in his hands and rubbed his thumbs across his wet cheeks. 'They were saying nasty things about the love of my life.’ Shoto replied easily, checking him over. ‘How much did you hear?’ Izuku asked, voice barely a whisper. ‘Enough.' ‘I tried not to let them get to me, but I couldn’t help it.’ Izuku hated the way his voice broke at the end, but when Shoto pulled him into a tight embrace, arms wrapping around him protectively, he let himself succumb to the feelings that had been picking at him for over a week now. Hiding in Shoto’s chest, he continued, ‘Sometimes I think, what if they’re right? What if Shoto-kun wakes up one day and realises he is too good for me?’ ‘Whenever you think something like that, I need you to tell me.’ Shoto pulled back to hold Izuku’s face once more, looking at him seriously. ‘I could talk all day about why I love you. Your brain and a bunch of envious bitches can’t take that away. Izuku, you’re perfect, you’re beautiful, you’re my best friend, my hero, my love.’ Fresh tears poured from Izuku’s eyes as he started to cry freely. ‘I love you, Sho.’ He hiccupped. ‘The same goes for you as well. I’m sorry I let all this get to me,’ ‘Don’t be sorry. It’s my fault for wanting to make our relationship public.’ Shoto’s eyebrows knitted together with concern. ‘I didn’t realise something like this would happen.’ ‘You couldn’t have known.’ 'Hmm.’ Shoto pressed their foreheads together and kissed the tip of his nose.  ‘Do you regret it... Telling everyone?’ ‘No.’ Izuku shook his head and let out a watery smile. ‘Despite all of this, I’m glad that everyone knows. I am yours and you are mine.’ Shoto hummed in response and leant in for a quick kiss, smiling against Izuku’s lips. When he pulled away, he put on an expression of mock innocence. ‘And if they have a problem with that, I know how to get rid of a body.’ His boyfriend’s lip quirked up and Izuku snorted. ‘Shoto, no.’ ‘Shoto, yes.’

[clumsyclifford]

cruel summer fic: director’s cut

fever dream high in the quiet of the night

so...............for a fic i wrote in such a short amount of time, and also for a fic written by me, there’s actually a surprising amount of Stuff To Analyze in here. themes. motifs, if you will. anyway. i am really proud of them, and ainslee and helen and sam enabled me, so i’m gonna talk about some of them here! 

fair warning, this gets a little long. hence the cut. also i know not everyone cares. and that is super fucking valid. anyway. let’s get into it. spoilers for the fic under the cut, obviously.

1. colors

so this fic has a lot of colors, like a lot more than i normally include (since i tend to write dialogue-heavy stuff). thematically the main important colors are blue and red. the ~blue~ is more or less for this like...physical relationship, but also blue of course connotes sadness and any kind of negative feeling in general (and re: cruel summer the song, "it's blue, the feeling i got"); the ~red~ is there in more romantic moments. the VERY first line of the fic says "the sky is bleeding navy blue" talking from the get-go about jack's uncertainty and how nervous he is and how unfamiliar the terrain is for him. but later on, in the scene when alex randomly picks jack up to go on a late-night adventure, we get this line:

“You certainly surprised me showing up at my house,” he says. “Any reason you thought I would be the best person to join you on your adventure?” 

 Alex casts a glance at him. The red stop sign before them is a jarring change from all the blacks and blues and washed-out yellows around them.

so there's this flash of red in the midst of the darkness and all this ~blue~ around them, and this is almost a romantic moment, because up until this they've pretty much only been hooking up and they're not even really friends. but now alex has specifically come to take jack on an Adventure. also i think it's interesting that it's a stop sign! possibly conflicting signals!

but then in the nightclub scene there's these lights ("flashes of blue and red keep washing over Alex’s face, making him difficult to look at for too long") and this is the scene where jack tells alex how he feels and then alex says that they wouldn't work. and it's not that alex doesn't feel the same, but alex is rejecting him anyway, so it's somehow a moment that is both romantic and tragic, hence both colors over alex's face at once. and then here:

Blue light washes over Alex. He gives Jack a hard look. “You’d tell your family?”

it's like..........that's the turning point. alex says this and it flips the argument in his favor and proves his point that they couldn't work, and that's a really fucking sad moment for the two of them. but then outside the nightclub, jack keeps talking about alex's red converse. like:

Jack staggers, and Alex grabs ahold of him, wrapping one of Jack’s arms around his shoulders. 

 “Easy,” he says. “I got you. Just focus on one spot until you get your balance.” 

 [...] Jack stares lasers into Alex’s red Converse.

because first of all the gesture itself of alex holding jack to help him get his balance is romantic and that even THOUGH alex rejected him there is still something romantic there. and it's here again later:

The scenery races by, Baltimore in all its trashy glory, but Jack fixes his gaze on Alex’s shoe until all he sees is red.

until all he sees is red.......it's all love baby. just call him FLETCHER cos it's all love

(there's also something to be said about the hickeys that are supposedly "reddish-purple"...purple as the middle ground between red and blue...something romantic but kind of painful...masquerading as a thing that exists without feeling...and another thing to be said about when jack falls from the tree and his palms are bleeding red and alex patches him up...but we'd be here all day)

2. shadows/darkness

i honestly don't know how much of this was intentional and how much just worked out, but there’s this idea of a dark cloud of rumors that surrounds alex? there's a lot of talk about rumors and reputation in here. like one of the first lines is:

From what Jack has heard, Alex is bad news. All he has to go on are rumors, but rumors start from somewhere, and rumors surround Alex like a storm cloud.

he's surrounded in this dark cloud of rumors! that's mentioned again in the scene at the high school:

After a while, a cloud of rumors resolves into a reputation, and Alex’s is impossible to ignore.

and this feels inherently dark, and this fic is inherently dark (not thematically just literally dark because it almost entirely takes place at night) but alex specifically seems to be shrouded in shadows and darkness, a LOT. his very first appearance in the fic is introduced like this:

There’s a shadow outside Jack’s window. 

 Something too irregular to be a heartbeat rams against Jack’s chest. He approaches the window. In the dark, dressed in black from head-to-toe, Alex looks like a robber, or maybe a ninja, or maybe a nightmare.

and almost immediately after that:

Alex fits so incongruously into it, absorbing all the light from Jack’s lamp like a six-foot black hole.

importantly, this is the very first scene of the fic, so this alex is the closest to Reputation-Alex as he gets in the fic, because hereafter jack starts learning more and more about him and the threads of this reputation start to fray and fall away. but in this very beginning, jack sees alex as someone surrounded by these rumors, and he keeps noticing shadows and darkness around alex, and alex (dressed in all black) kind of tries to be seen that way, too.

and then when they're in the high school, this Dark High School At Nighttime, the darkness over alex's face returns. they've all but broken into their high school and that's a very Reputation-Alex thing to do! jack sees this reputation around him, not necessarily as a bad thing but just as something that is very present. this exchange:

“No, it’s cool. I get it. Lotta rumors about me.” Alex nods. Jack can’t read his tone, can’t tell if he likes that his reputation precedes him or not. 

 “What’s your favorite?” he asks. “Is that a weird question?” 

 Alex looks at Jack, face shrouded in shadows. “Who cares?”

they're talking about alex's rep and his face is shrouded in shadows. jack is very aware of these shadows. he's not afraid of them or anything. but he knows they're there. he keeps mentioning them. he's never not aware.

and theeeen when there's light on his face...and jack sees him........clearing away this Shadow of a Reputation..........there's subsequently this theme of gold/light on or around alex, in certain moments when jack Sees alex. in the first scene:

Jack breaks away and the lamp light casts a glow over Alex’s face. It occurs to Jack for the first time that Alex is beautiful.

and also from that scene:

“Shh,” he says, grabbing Jack’s face in one hand. His eyes look like shimmering gold. “Your parents will hear.”

and in the high school (this one has Layers) when alex buys jack something from the vending machine, and they kind of...........become friends:

Now he and Alex stand before one, bluish-white light awash over Alex like a fluorescent halo.

there's this light around him and jack can see him, and especially on the heels of that conversation where they both talk about how the other person is good for them, this is a good moment of jack Seeing alex as a person and a friend and not seeing his Reputation

3. the halo (aka the devil/angel dichotomy)

this part is very important to me, so here we go. in the final scene, when alex comes out of his house to talk to jack, his appearance is characterized like this:

By the time Alex appears, a shadow backlit by streetlamps, incandescent halo in full effect, Jack is very close to a nervous breakdown.

now. first of all. his halo at the vending machine had been fluorescent, and his halo now is incandescent. aside from the obvious ~angel/devil~ dichotomy (this part happens only moments later: “I love you too,” Alex says in a rush, and then a devilish grin splits his face in two as he takes Jack’s hand in his own) (i.e. "he looks up, grinning like a devil"), the color of the halo has changed. it started as this clean fluorescent bluish white, like their relationship was before; incandescent light is warmer and it feels a lot closer to red. so the light behind alex's halo has changed, because the nature of their relationship has changed. and that's important. 

but the other important thing is that he has a halo at all. because alex is the "devil" in this fic and jack is the "angel," so to speak, of course. but in these two moments, jack sees him as an angel, and he sees this halo. and then JUST after that incandescent halo line, there's this line:

As he comes closer, the streetlight glow fades until only darkness surrounds them both.

importantly: it surrounds them BOTH. the darkness isn't just alex's now. maybe that's because jack has changed and he's done a very non-jack thing, a very alex thing, but whatever the reason, the Rep isn't just alex's now, and jack is aware (not negatively or anything, just Conscious) that it's now around them both. in short, the devil isn't just alex now, but jack as well, at least a little. and then there's also this, and this is the last way jack describes alex:

Alex’s smile gleams brilliantly, impossibly white.

so......maybe.......he's a little bit an angel. a little.

4. height

this is small, but in the beginning there's this:

With a start, Jack realizes he’s actually taller than Alex. Somehow he’d never noticed. Alex takes up space. Jack never has.

this is a scene in which jack feels like alex has the power. because alex has the experience and the Reputation and this is the kind of thing he Does, and it's not something jack has Ever Done. but THEN, in the high school, there's THIS:

An echoing silence fills the space between them. Jack pushes himself off the wall. The two inches he has on Alex suddenly feel very real.

alex is insecure in this scene. he's saying jack is a good kid and that jack is good for him because alex is a bad kid and a bad influence, and suddenly jack has the "power" (so to speak) and alex is the weaker one. because alex is feeling insecure. so suddenly jack realizes not only that he and alex might not be as different as he thinks, but also that alex isn't this untouchable Reputation, that he's also just a kid who resents himself sometimes. and that's very important for their relationship! for jack to realize that alex is not on this pedestal, that he is also just a kid.

5. stuff i did not do on purpose

these are things that either i noticed or that got pointed out to me after i posted the fic but i will gladly take credit for them if you feel like giving it lmfao

(1) there are a lot of taylor references. some of these were intentional (yes it does say cruel twice, that was on purpose lmao), and the mention of august ("August starts melting away, slipping through Jack’s fingers") was kinda a callback, but it fully slipped my mind that all the reputation talk could have read like a reference. "For something so heated, it certainly feels delicate” was not an intentional reference to delicate. but kinda cool that it worked out that way !!! 

(2) in the high school scene, jack tells alex that he's the worst thing he's ever done. and then at the end he tells alex, “Alex, I honestly think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” talk about a fucking 180!!!!! 

(3) in the very first scene there's this:

and when Jack says he’s out on a limb he means it. To fall from here would mean almost certain death, but fuck, it might just be worth it.

and then later, jack literally falls from the tree. and on top of that, alex is the reason he falls (the texts), but ALSO, alex is the person who's there to patch jack up. it's not "certain death," BECAUSE alex is there. jack hadn't been wrong; alex had been the cause of his fall, but he'd also been the reason why the fall hadn't been "fatal." (using hyperbolic words to make this point)

(4) the first and final scenes parallel each other. in the first scene jack's room is in complete darkness except for the one light at his bedside. in the last scene, too, they're surrounded by darkness. the streetlamps illuminate alex briefly but then the light fades and it's just the two of them in the dark again. 

 on top of that, here's this from the scene in the car towards the beginning:

“What are you doing here?” [Jack] whispers, leaning through the window. “Turn off your headlights, someone might see.”

and from the last scene:

“What the fuck are you doing?” Alex hisses, and he sounds nervous, for what Jack thinks might be the first time since they’ve known each other. “My dad is still awake, you know.”

so the cautious (jack) has become the reckless, and the reckless (alex) becomes the cautious!!!! that's shown in a LOT of ways in this last scene, but that one is particularly salient.

~

also, this doesn’t really go anywhere but it is one of my favorite lines of figurative language in the whole thing:

It’s a dumb joke in a lot of ways and Jack gets the sense that had he made it to anyone else it would have landed like an airplane on fire, but Alex actually chuckles.

airplane on fire!!! it’s just so much fun. and so evocative. and i like it.

~

so anyway, that’s my director’s cut analysis of cruel summer fic. if you read this, or even if you just read the fic, or even if you read this WITHOUT reading the fic (although ???? i think it will make more sense if you read the fic), thank you for indulging me!!! i am extremely happy with the way this fic came out. point being. thank you for joining me. love ya <3

[thegrandkinghimself]

who is oikawa tooru?

i guess that’s a weird way to start off a post, considering just how popular oikawa is in this fandom. i’m absolutely certain that he’s still one of the most popular characters if i can take the #oikawasear trend on twitter a couple of weeks ago seriously. (i will be mourning that iwaoi is no longer the top ship in this fandom. it’s devastating to me on a personal level). and i can’t say that i’m any different, either, otherwise i wouldn’t have made this blog or this post. but i guess the reason i’ve been itching to write this is because i’ve been in this fandom--and more specifically, a fan of oikawa--for about four or five years now. i devour the content available, and i can assure you that i’ve read too many of the fanfictions on ao3 to be healthy, and never before have i seen a character whose characterization is so hotly disputed. 

and i get it. he’s a complex person. he’s kind of awkward in that there is a very clear disconnect between his outward personality and who he is alone. it’s a very hard balance to strike, especially when you consider just how much conjecture goes on in his characterization among fans and in discourse. he’s really easy to project and certain traits, correct or otherwise, are amplified based off how authors perceive him. there’s plenty of presumptions that can be made based on his on-screen actions/thoughts/beliefs that can be taken to some very logical conclusions. 

but i’ve also seen people write him in ways that don’t strike me as particularly truthful. he’s type casted into stereotypes that don’t do him justice, or made into something that is vaguely like oikawa, but not quite. in the following post, i’ll be trying to dispel misunderstandings of his character, if only for my own sanity. 

tl;dr i think that oikawa is chronically one of the most misrepresented characters in fandom and i want to fix that

exclaimer: i am solely an anime-watcher; i have seen snippets of the manga and therefore have a general idea of what is going on.

let’s establish some very very basic stuff. just to keep it simple, i’m not going to talk about anything beyond what has been published via the anime (as of season four). 

Oikawa Tooru | 及川徹 

gender: male

d.o.b.: 1994.7.20. or 20 July, 1994

height: 184.3 cm

weight: 72.2 kg

occupation: high school 3rd year, class 6

position/number: setter, 1 (captain)

here’s something that’s never pointed out: oikawa is in class 6 which, if we go off the trend of every other school in haikyuu!!, means that he is in a college preparatory class aka he’s pretty dang smart. it’s not confirmed or anything, but it a. follows the trend of every other class 6 student and b. is the highest class available among seijoh 3rd years (classes 5, 3, and 1). don’t get the idea that he’s dumb or unintelligent, or even that his strengths only lie in the classroom because that would be a gross understatement of his skills.

anywho. 

generally speaking, i like to start with the building blocks of his personality because there’s so much room for assumptions. here are the things that i think make up his core personality:

intelligence/knowledgeable: not only academically speaking, but he’s also well-versed in people. he knows how to play them--what will make someone more confident, more doubtful, what will help his teammates succeed. clearly, oikawa is very knowledgeable in human thought patterns. or he’s dedicated a lot of time to knowing them. 

loyalty: of all of oikawa’s traits, i think this one gets talked about the least, but we know it to be true. we make jokes about “you should have come to shiratorizawa” but it really shows you exactly how loyal, how much trust, oikawa has in this team that he has spent three years shaping. he never stops believing in the work that he has put in, and especially the hard work that his teammates have put into their volleyball. 

hardworking: one of the most well-known things about oikawa. most fans already know that his white knee pad is actually a knee brace. ‘nuff said. i salute you, good sir. 

insecurity: oikawa’s insecurities are perhaps his most notable trait. in a sense, he’s sort of the underdog--so good, but never quite good enough to accomplish what he’s set out to do. and we know that he’s struggled with his doubts since junior high, literally since he was 12 or 13, and that’s informed all of his character from the moment he ran into ushijima. oikawa is someone who is defined by his insecurities. 

oikawa is a lot of things. he’s introduced as someone who is very flamboyant--he’s built up by kageyama as the best setter, his senpai literally and figuratively, his initial shots are all of smug smiles and easy, unfaltering swagger in the face of this new team. even his theme, all rambunctious brass and jazzy, is meant to be all in your face, here’s the big boss! he’s someone who is petty and silly and seems to favor shallow conversation. but he’s oikawa, so there’s a surprising amount of depth in the little time that we have with him. there’s a reason that, in any other franchise, he’d probably be the protagonist.

he is someone full of contradictions. he’s childish and he spends time with a bunch of girls and is very clearly someone who likes to project a certain image of himself to the public (see: his cute lil’ humming run after his yell in s4e23 to make him seem kind of normal). but he’s also spent a lot of time with himself. in fact, if we take the few scenes we have of him alone and his bedroom (bare, spartan, meticulous) into account, oikawa actually is much more solemn and/or serious than the image he projects. he’s comfortable in the silences between all the white noise. he’s alright just being with iwaizumi. he allows himself to dwell on the past and his shortcomings, while also looking forward to the future. his ambition and passion to improve drive him, but his past failures weigh him down. they haunt him.

personally, i think that he’s naturally a pretty silly guy when given the chance. it’s not just for show. iwaizumi would even corroborate this à la oikawa’s introduction speech in s1. he likes having fun when he can with his friends. if we assume that oikawa is most himself with iwaizumi, then we definitely know that’s the case (see: “are you my mom, iwa-chan?”), and there’s nothing wrong with that. but i think that the most basic traits of his character, combined with his experiences in volleyball, have pushed him to be this person who is mired in doubt. it’s forced him to go down a path where something that he once loved for the fun of it has now become the source of his ire. it’s really just that simple. maybe in another life, things would be different and oikawa wouldn’t have to struggle as much. but that’s really just a part of the human experience, isn’t it? and, in all honesty, would we really love oikawa as much without all his vices?

and maybe this is getting into speculation, but i don’t think it’s a difficult argument to make that oikawa is really mature. he’s introspective. i say introspective because the revelations that he’s had in regards to his own strengths and weaknesses--those are things he’s had to confront and deal with since he was in junior high (starts at 12 years of age). it takes someone with a lot of maturity and self-awareness to realize those kinds of things about himself.

and he’s stronger than he gets credit for. most people depict him as a crybaby, but he’s really not. he doesn’t cry or give up in the face of ushijima or kageyama’s unfettered growth and successes, he doesn’t cry when faced with defeat. oikawa is there to support iwaizumi in his own doubt as ace, and lend support to his teammates. and oikawa doesn’t get stuck on the what-ifs or has-beens. driven by his infamous ambition, he looks forward to the future. 

it’s kind of a double-edged sword. it’s pushed him this far--he’s put in this much effort to be one of the best in the prefecture--because of his competitive spirit, but it’s also something that has caused him serious injury. oikawa’s motto (”if you’re gonna to hit it, hit it until it breaks!”) is the very epitome of this mentality. it’s a message to work hard to finish what you started, but i also think that you could interpret that hard work breaking you, too. he’s steadfast—obsessive, really—to the point that oikawa will let his passions break him before he would ever give up. it’s the point of all the strife in his life, because he would never have the problems he does if he were even a little less enamored by this sport. 

and you really have to wonder where he would be without ushijima and kageyama as his obstacles. his drive will always be there, that is an intrinsic part of him, as are the standards to which he holds himself, but you really have to wonder just how good oikawa would be if he didn’t have such direct competitors. this is an incredibly important question to ask about kageyama and oikawa in particular. yes, oikawa does loathe ushijima: for his disregard for oikawa’s decisions, for his disregard of oikawa’s loyalty, for his flippant attitude of seijoh, who oikawa has poured his blood and sweat into creating. but ushijima is an opposite hitter. oikawa is a setter. those are two very different positions with little crossover. but with kageyama--that is a clear rivalry. they push each other to be better, made all the more potent by their differences as players; one setter’s growth as a player directly impacts how the other performs in each subsequent game. seijoh’s defeat by karasuno in season 2 just feeds into oikawa’s drive for the future. he has not intention of giving up. a light was lit under him, pushing him forward, to do better, to be better. 

this is something that has been pointed out in a different analysis (linked below) but, narratively speaking, oikawa is kageyama’s foil. their interactions inform their characters and are a major cause of tension in their development. their relationship is really the most complex in the story that i have noticed, and is something that has not been appreciated enough. the iwaizumi-oikawa thing has been expounded and studied in every facet possible (i love the alexander the great/hephaestion allusions), but it’s true that kageyama has impacted oikawa the most. they begrudgingly respect each other’s talents, what it is that they bring to the court, while also envying what the other has in spades that they do not. in oikawa’s case, his strength clearly lies in his interpersonal relationships--his ability to intuit exactly what his teammates need to be at their best. kags is just a fount of overwhelming technical skill who has a really hard time getting to know those around him. living up to the standards that oikawa places on himself, in tandem with kageyama threatening his position as setter, leave oikawa floundering, fearing his own incompetence against opponents who are naturally much better than he. so he’s left with the knowledge that maybe his best isn’t good enough, but he still continues on anyway. he pushes himself past a seemingly unreachable threshold just to go toe-to-toe with this monster. it’s the purpose of his character--to tell this story of the ordinary v. the extraordinary--and it is perhaps the most relatable arc that a story like haikyuu!! can tell.

their connection naturally causes oikawa to seek out help, seen in the flashback scenes where he is talking to an unspecified coach/adult. that coach’s words then become the creed upon which oikawa plays, maybe even more than what iwaizumi has taught him, and is the final push that completes oikawa’s character arc in s2ep24. that change in mindset allows oikawa to see kageyama’s unbridled talent not as an obstacle but as a challenge. it’s very nuanced, but it makes all the difference. it’s why, following seijoh’s defeat, oikawa has the audacity to declare to kageyama and ushijima his plans for the future. in a sense, karasuno and kageyama and ushijima have won the battle but not the war. it’s the tipping point in his story and, more than anything, what makes oikawa so compelling. we have seen what has led up to the change, but now we want to know what he’s going to do to meet that challenge. what will he be doing beyond the story when he is no longer relevant to the narrative? we don’t know the details at this point, but we know that oikawa’s love and ambition for volleyball have been reaffirmed in this moment. 

but to bring it back, the kags-oiks connection also makes us question what it is we are watching, makes us as the audience think: what qualifies someone as a genius? are there any limitations to what that genius can do? what can ordinary people do in the face of those geniuses? 

these are questions that exist beyond the reality of sports and transverse into other disciplines. for me, those are very real questions that i have had to ask myself as a musician. i have dedicated nine, almost 10, years to my practice but there are still 10-year-olds who are just better at it than i ever will be. part of it is time and practice to be sure, but some of it is just innate. and i think the more appropriate version of those questions would be this: what qualifies someone as a prodigy? are there limitations for prodigies? what can we do in the face of prodigies? 

oikawa is a genius player--he knows the ins-and-outs of his sport better than anyone, and he can accomplish great feats that others in his same position can’t. but even with all that veritable experience and skill, he is ultimately still overtaken by a prodigy whose talents seem endless. it’s why he can hate ushijima but fear kageyama. one is something he can actively fight against, the other is inevitable. 

and really, i think that’s the beauty of oikawa tooru, why he’s so beloved by the fandom, even years after he has stopped being relevant to the narrative. beyond the fluff and goofiness and hijinks, there’s someone there who is really, truly, human. 

an aside with much less significance/why do people think this??

so here’s one thing: even though oikawa has fangirls, i wonder what he actually thinks of them. for one, it’s only natural for anyone to be super flattered if people think you’re hot stuff. that’s just... i don’t think he’s weird if he pays attention to them. but i think that people are conflating his being kind to them to being genuinely egotistical due to the attention. actually, i think these are opposing ideas and a contradiction of who oikawa is. when you’re an arrogant person, you think that you deserve all the attention you’re getting and you’re not going to bother with the people who worship you.

but that’s not at all what oikawa does. he’s rather kind to his fans. i would never say that he’s self-effacing, but knowing what you’re worth is different from being pompous. and think about it. it’d be a real jerk move for oikawa to not say nice things to them and thank his fangirls when they spend time, energy, and effort to make him food and see his games. he would just be a genuinely awful person if he didn’t at least give them thanks. it’d be more alarming if he didn’t talk to them, at least in my opinion. more than anything, we should consider this: why is it that oikawa has the fan club and not anyone else on the seijoh team? i’m sure a part of it is because he’s attractive and the captain of a team, but i think it’s more than that, too. we see these interactions from other perspectives, but i think that reflects more on those around oikawa than oikawa himself if they don’t understand why he acts the way he does with those girls.

another thing: i don’t think that anyone can question that oikawa is very pretty, or handsome, or whatever descriptor you would like. it’s prevalent in fandom (see: pretty setters squad), but he is also the only person in canon to be acknowledged by other characters as being particularly good-looking. maybe the miyas count at this point? i’m not sure. but i don’t really understand where people get the idea that he is particularly focused on his appearance, though. there is literally no indication of that from the material that i have seen. and maybe he uses that to his advantage with his fangirls, but i highly doubt that, in all honesty. i think that it’s fun to imagine him being into these things as a hobby, but it irks me greatly when i see that people spend time saying that oikawa wakes up extra early just to fix his hair or slather on foundation/concealer just to look presentable. 

he’s a teenaged boy who clearly has other things that worry him, he’s a full-time student, and volunteers to coach at lil tykes volleyball classroom in his free time. he wouldn’t have time to spend on his hair or makeup. and we even seen in the hanger tooru special that he even wakes up looking like that. 

he is au naturale, my friends. and we even know how little he gives thought to his own body, if you take into account his knee brace. for oikawa, his body is merely the medium through which he can accomplish his goals. we even have evidence of this when we see oikawa up all night studying karasuno game play or via his knee brace. he doesn’t know how to stop or understand when enough is enough. he breaks himself if there’s no one to watch him. 

also, just... how would makeup work, logistically speaking? i don’t wear makeup, but i’m thinking that foundation and concealer and hair product would be, um, really bad. like, it’d run down his face and stuff. also, it’d probably get into his eyes, too? seriously. i’m not against oikawa wearing makeup in the slightest cause he’d be even prettier, but we know that oikawa would absolutely not jeopardize his chances in any way. 

thank you for reading this long-winded, probably awful look into my favorite character of all time. and i do mean that. he is my favorite character in all of media. which, like, says a lot when he’s competing against the casts of a:tla, call me by your name, and my actual favorite book, the song of achilles. after all of that, if you would like another (better) analysis of oikawa’s character, i suggest this reddit thread: https://www.reddit.com/r/haikyuu/comments/94irsi/character_analysis_16_oikawa_tooru_discussion/ 

[shinyatiny]

Flower Crown - yungi

Chapter one: The fighting festival, Lenaia

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The fighting festival, Lenaia, is an annual festival held by the biggest elf tribe. The festival is held so the bravest and strongest of fighters can showcase their power to others. It's also a great way to gain popularity and sponsors from other tribes. When the date of the festival is near, the people of the tribe spread flowers along the main street, welcoming the brave warriors to their village with bright smiles and sweet music.

It was that time of the year again, everyone was busy preparing for the festival, the sweet fragrance of the finest wine could already be smelled if one concentrated enough. The villagers had gathered the prettiest of flowers into little baskets, keeping them away from the children because one of them had already ruined a basket full of flowers the previous day. Soon, the fighters would arrive to the village and start preparing for Lenaia.

The village chief was also busy with the tasks the preparation of the festival brought. It took him a lot of work, but it was always worth it in the end, because everyone seemed to enjoy the festival to the fullest. There was nothing dangerous about Lenaia, it was just a competition to see if there were any brave warriors among the tribes worthy enough to join their forces. And usually there were a couple of warriors that caught the chief's eye and sparked curiosity inside him. Those who were accepted, were praised and worshiped by everyone.

Although everyone was excited about the festival, there was one individual, who hated the idea of a fighting competition. Mingi, the chief's youngest son, was the only one who hated the idea of his people fighting against other tribes' warriors. He hated violence from the bottom of his kind heart, but despite his desperate pleads to his father to stop the long-lasting tradition, he couldn't do anything about it.

Mingi's requests were turned down and ignored by the chief, but he expected it. His father was always busy this time of the year and he had no chance to have a discussion about the whole festival. The only one who was able to keep him sane was his older brother who also disliked the idea of fighting in the arena. In a way, they were similar, but Mingi's brother was braver and his figure was more muscular and bigger than his.

Mingi himself was pretty frail compared to his older brother, but what he had was height. He was the tallest out of all his siblings and he was proud of his height to say the least. But his height gave him some insecurities as well. For example, people usually spotted him in a crowd much faster than his other family members. And he didn't like to be the center of attention at all. He was the quiet sibling and he liked it that way.

As the son of the chief, Mingi's attire was also planned to look graceful. The golden necklace that hang around his neck was made by their clan's most skilled jewelrists, complimenting his elegant collarbones and making him look like royalty. His shirt was made from the finest silk, button-less, but he nor anyone else payed no mind to that. The black pants he wore fit him perfectly, showing his attractive figure even more. A detailed silver belt was also buckled to his pants. For finishing touches he wore all kinds of accessories from golden rings on his delicate fingers to piercings on his pointy ears.

Mingi never understood why he had to wear such clothes, but his father always made sure he looked like a proper noble man in other villagers' eyes. Although he liked his attire very much and wouldn't trade his clothes to anything, he always wondered what it would feel like to wear a normal button-up with black slacks. But of course his father would never allow him to wear something as common as that.

Mingi was situated in his own chambers, fixing his hair with a wooden comb in front of a huge mirror that hang on his wall. The way the comb brushed through his blonde locks made him immensely relaxed, almost falling asleep on his little tree stump chair. He had been getting ready for hours to welcome the fighters to the village. Anxiously, he put the comb back to its original place on his nightstand and walked out of the room to go greet his father.

The chief's hut was the biggest one out of all the other little huts in the village, and it was located on the tallest hill. Everyone could see the house from far away. The inside of the hut was elegant and it was fit for a chief. Every window was decorated with care, scarlet-red curtains hanging in front of them to give them a bit of colour. The chief had his own chambers as well, bigger than anyone else's. Mingi's other siblings did not live in the house anymore, having moved away a couple of years ago.

Mingi also wished to move away from his father's claws, getting tired of his commands and the way he controlled him. A nice house by a small lake would be a dream come true for him, and that's what he wished for. But he'd have to wait a few years for that to happen, only when he turns 22 can he move out of the hut. Or at least that's what was written in the rules. He was the chief's son, the possible heir. Mingi strongly disliked the idea of himself leading the village, he wasn't ready for the position, but his father thought he was the perfect fit to be the next village chief.

He got out of his room, walking down the narrow hallways towards his father's chambers. It was still dark outside, and the morning sun had yet to appear. Even though it was already spring, the air was too chilly for Mingi's liking. He took silent steps through the house, passing by the kitchen that was filled with servants ready to serve him and his father their breakfast. The smell of freshly cooked silk mushrooms hit his nostrils as soon as he walked past the bustling space. Halting in his steps, he turned around on his heels and sneaked into the kitchen to steal one of the delicious looking mushrooms that were placed neatly in a bowl on the table.

Humming to himself, Mingi rushed out of the kitchen and made his way to his father's chambers. The huge skull of a deer hanging on the door gave it away that it was his father who resided inside. Stepping through the door, he coughed a little to see if the chief was yet awake, but after waiting for a minute, no one commented about his little cough. He walked to the window and opened the scarlet curtains to let some light in the room. Turning around, he saw his father's bed, sadly empty like he had anticipated. With a soft sigh leaving his lips, Mingi took one last glance at all the different skulls that were hanging above his father's bed, and exited the room with a disappointed frown on his lips.

Before he had time to close the door, he felt a hand touch his shoulder, and being the scaredy cat he is, he flinched and backed off immediately after feeling the touch on his shoulder. A low laugh came from behind him, and Mingi recognized it as his father's laugh, immediately letting his shoulders slump down in relief. Turning around, he was met with his father's tall figure, green, intimidating eyes staring holes right trough his skull. "Father, you scared me." The younger muttered under his breath, avoiding his father's fierce eyes.

The man let out another laugh erupt from within him, hand proudly patting Mingi's shoulder. "I came back to get my staff from my quarters, Son. I am sorry for disturbing your morning peace." The older man said, eyeing the outfit Mingi was wearing. His eyes fixated on the golden piercing on Mingi's earlobe, narrowing when he noticed another piercing above it. "I see you have pierced your ears once again without my permission, Son. I thought we talked about this, no?" He said, the features on his face turning neutral once again. Mingi froze up, remembering the piercing on his ear he didn't tell his father about.  "If I see even one more piercing anywhere on your body, I will personally go to your friend's little shop and tell him to stop piercing you."

Mingi lowered his head in shame, regretting the piercing he took immediately. His father's burning stare was intense and it made him uncomfortable. It was as if the chief was examining every single move he made to see if Mingi was worthy for his position. The blonde nodded his head, slowly reaching out for his earlobe with shaky hands and taking out the golden piercing, putting it in his pocket. "I — I won't get any more piercings, Father. I can take all the other's out as well-"

His father huffed, interrupting Mingi's train of thought. "I don't care. Just don't take more piercings, you got it?" He grumbled, moving Mingi out of the way so he could get to his door. "Breakfast will be served in an hour, make sure you're ready and in proper clothes before that." His father said before disappearing to his room and leaving Mingi standing in front of the door.

The lingering tension from his and his father's conversation could still be felt, and it made Mingi shiver uncomfortably. He backed off from the door, and with one last glance at the deer skull, he walked off. Did his father dislike his attire or were his accessories too much? It was weird, because usually it was his father who gave him all kinds of jewelry to put on, but now the tables had turned. Not noticing it, Mingi subconsciously reached for the golden piercing in his pocket and took it out, putting it back in its place.

He wanted to get out of the house and meet with his brother, but like his father had said, breakfast was to be served in an hour, and the walk to his brother's house was longer than that. So, he decided to visit his dear friend at the jewelry shop. Maybe he could buy new earrings for the festival. As Mingi walked out of the house, he was greeted by several servants, giving each and every servant an awkward smile back.

The surroundings of his house was vast, surrounded by a wall blue flowers. There was a small flower bed next to the front door which Mingi took care of every day. In the middle of the flower bed was a flower, a special flower. An Iris, a purple flower with big pedals that grow downwards, is the representative flower of their clan. The flower is also embedded into every villagers' markings.

Mingi's own marking was quite big and it was located on his left forearm. The golden markings spiraled around his arm and almost reached his fingers. The flower itself was on his forearm, on a somewhat visible spot. He was rather glad the colour of his markings wasn't vibrant, like blue. He was content with the charming golden colour his markings had. Compared to Mingi, his father had black markings that reached all the way from his chest to his face. It made the chief look intimidating and menacing, even the other tribes' leaders feared his father.

After checking on the flower bed, Mingi started his journey towards his friend's shop with a smile plastered on his lips. The village was as busy as always, people bustling on the streets and merchants trading with some of the shop owners. Some of the shops had built stands along the main street, all kinds of food placed in small baskets for people to buy. The blonde boy eyed the stands, giving the vendors smiles as he passed by. One particular stand caught his eye as he was about to walk by it. The baskets were filled with glass jars full of pink a substance which Mingi recognized as crystal water.

Crystal water was something not everyone got to taste, a delicacy that only wealthy villagers had access to. And that specific fact had Mingi quirk up an eyebrow at the seller. It was an older woman, maybe in her fifties. She looked well-off enough to possess such a luxury item, but it still made the blonde wonder how she had gotten her hands on something so precious.

The woman noticed Mingi's looks at the crystal water jars, a smirk forming on her lips at the thought of the man buying one of her jars. "Well hello there." The woman chirped, eyes as small as crescents as she smiled widely. "Are you here to buy some crystal water, handsome?" She raised a curious eyebrow, reaching for a jar and giving it to Mingi.

The blonde shook his head anxiously, pushing the jar back to the woman's hands. "Please, call me Mingi. And no, I am not buying anything today." He gave the woman a small smile and put his hand in his pocket. "I was just walking by when I saw all these jars of crystal water. It's pretty impressive how you've gotten yourself such a big batch of it." He rambled, examining one of the jars rather than looking the woman in the eye. "But there's something wrong, miss." He pointed out, finally glancing at the woman. "This isn't crystal water. It's just plain water."

The seller widened her eyes and put the jar back in the basket, glaring at Mingi with an annoyed expression. "You're the chief's son, ain't you." She scoffed, rolling her eyes at the blonde boy. "No wonder you knew it wasn't crystal water. You nobles are too good at magic these days." She sighed, taking the basket in her hands. "I wasn't really planning on selling them. I was looking for someone who would be able to see the difference between real crystal water and just plain water. You've proven yourself worthy for one free jar of real crystal water, handsome." She smirked, laying the basket full of pink water on the ground and picking up another basket from under the stand. "This right here, is real crystal water. You can have one jar for free, go ahead."

Mingi gave the woman an unsure look, glancing at the jar in front of him. "Are you sure? Crystal water is very expensive around here, miss. It's not something you can just freely give to someone." He said, his hand balling into a fist in his pocket. "You can sell it instead of giving it to me, I don't need it." He added, giving the old woman a shy smile and turning around on his heels, ready to leave.

"Are you sure you don't want to give it to your father for example?" The woman shouted from behind him, a chuckle following it. "It also keeps your markings shiny and pretty!" She laughed one last time before giving up upon seeing that Mingi wasn't interested at all. "Fine, I'll sell it then. Have a good day, prince Mingi."

Before Mingi was able to protest at the nickname she gave him, the woman was gone from sight. "Please don't call me by that nickname..." He mumbled under his breath to himself, walking away from the stand. Mingi disliked it when people referred to him as the prince of the Iris clan. It reminded him of his duties and his responsibilities as the prince, as well as the fact that he was to lead the whole clan someday. With one last glance at the crystal water stand, he made his way to his friend's shop to clear his clouded mind off things he would like to forget for a while.