#I have no idea if anyone is even going to read this

[violet-sumire]

Thought I'd add my two cents (or rather, someone else's two cents that I largely agree with) Image description under cut:

(Screenshot of a Reddit comment by user Allronix1 reading "

As I said on r/AO3

Ao3 frankly does not rank high enough on anyone's agenda. There's no money, no campaign donations, and not even the major studios with their bank accounts want to go after it. The biggest possible threat to Ao3 isn't going to come from the White House. It'll come from Disney, Amazon, Warner Brothers, and other Big Media citing the same old shit they use every time someone wants a fanwork ban; the possibility that someone might be taking a single unauthorized red cent from their pockets.

To be crass, the idea of a porn ban is one of those "I want a pony that farts glitter" ridiculous things Heritage Foundation (the people who actually wrote P2025) puts out every year that gets a bunch of wild press coverage and publicity (good for fundraising on both sides) but is laughed out the door because not even the Republicans want that kind of thing. They like their smut as much as the rest of us.

The US, no matter who gets elected, has very robust safeguards that, by design, make passing anything a slow, painful process because the people who set up the government knew that shitty people can and will get elected, and therefore made it really hard for any one person to fuck things up. We also have, as the very first thing in our Constitution, an up-front, plain language "did I stutter?!" rule about speech being protected, even if that speech is offensive, irreligious, or both. This was put in there because...well, the US is fifty states in a trench coat, and because insulting the ruler (no matter who the ruler is, and even if the ruler is God) was considered an absolute, no arguments right in America while it could get you jailed or killed elsewhere. Ao3 is classified as literature, and therefore would be classified as protected speech.

In theory, you could get something where Utah (very religious, conservative state) passes a law in their state to ban it, but then someone in California (where the tech companies are) sues to block the law, citing the First Amendment on the federal level, and it plays ping pong in the courts for the next decade until everyone forgets about it. Ao3 is not a big enough fish or generating enough outrage for anyone in the US government to give a damn. And since there's no money involved, there's even less of a reason to give a damn.

Even in the worst case scenarios, Ao3 can do what a lot of webrings and file sharing websites did in the 1990s and 2000s and get a domain that is not in the US. Sweden was a popular place to get a domain for this kind of thing as their internet laws were much more loose than anywhere else. With VPN technology, that would bypass any kind of censorship.")

hey everyone! back up your works on ao3, because project 2025 is probably going into effect. porn will be illegal.

BACK IT UP OFFLINE. the cloud will not save you here.

also, make sure you're current on your vaccines. and that all your ID and documents are up to date. Renew that passport.

because the fda, cdc, and state department are about to go to hell, too.

how are we even in this position again? insanity. pure insanity. but protect yourself, and be ready to protect your vulnerable loved ones. shit is about to get real bad.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello omg I love your soft sylus writing a lot !!

May I request please a reader where she loves sylus so much that she tries to express it by words but can’t cause she is so shy and never done so and sylus encourage it and tease her

LOVE UR WRITING

You had something to say and it clear as day to Sylus that you were lost within the internal conflict raging on within your mind, weighing out the pros and cons of speaking truthfully of your heart to him. And while it was adorable to watch you squirm and struggle to articulate your thoughts into coherent sentences for the first five minutes, Sylus was soon aware that since your so hesitant in taking the first step, he’ll have to take the first step on your behalf by grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you onto his lap.

‘Somethings on your mind kitten, it’s eating away at you and I want to know what it is that’s been consuming you from the inside out.’ He says while tightening his grip on your wrist just enough to keep you from being able to pull away, but enough where he’s not bringing you to any harm. You could practically feel your heart in your throat as it righted in on itself, it didn’t help that Sylus’s crimson eyes were peering into you in a way that made it seem as though he knew but loved to watch you suffer. ‘I- I don’t-‘ you stopped before you could even say a full sentence as everything leading up to now had resurfaced in your mind.

You knew you loved Sylus, you have for a while now, but past experiences or close to the sort have made you hesitant in making the first move and into something more meaningful between the two of you. You remember times where you would wonder whether you���d be luckily enough to be blessed with having someone become interested in you, fully investing their time and energy into what you had to say, their eyes remained on you as though they couldn’t bring themselves to look at anyone else.

You wanted everything you’ve seen in movies or read in books so badly, but even if you did find someone who was interested by you, you tended to pull away before they could get close enough to see the real you and become distant because you didn’t fulfill their idea of you that was unrealistic. You couldn’t help it for after being on your own for a long while you have grown accustomed to the idea that you might be left to your own company, maybe have a cat and or a dog in the future to make up for the lack of connection. So the idea of sharing your space with anyone else has always made you feel seriously self conscious and unable to articulate your thoughts and feelings like you’d like to.

However soon Sylus came into your life and you felt the same way you did when you were still talking to the person you preciously liked. You felt jittery, scared, excited and eagerly anticipated when you’d next see Sylus again while occasionally on the look out for Mephisto. Yet once you realised what you were feeling, what you were doing, a cold sense of dread filled you and unfortunately Sylus’s actions towards you only made it even harder for you to deny what was happening between you two.

Sylus would go out of his way to hold you by the small of your back in crowded spaces, keeping you close proximity to him, lightly touch your shoulder or stand closer to you then normal and even get in your face to watch your expressions as he did some lighthearted teasing. He was in your personal space and he was everywhere you went, and since it happened so often it came to a point where you were actively seeking out the tall man with crimson eyes and snow/silvery hair without realising it. The implications scared you gravely to the point where recently you’ve tried to avoid Sylus…only for Luke and Kieran along with Mephisto to find you and inform Sylus before he greeted you in person.

Sylus took your chin in his free hand and moving your head so you were back to staring into his observant eyes rather than to your fiddling fingers. ‘Use your words kitten, after all I’ve got all the time for you to sort out what you want to say.’ He tells you as a smirk played upon his lips as he watched your eyes widened a tad and your breath hitched in your throat. Sylus then taps a finger against your lips softly, letting it linger there for a bit. ‘So speak your mind sweetheart, speak it to me and don’t be afraid of the consequences,’ he then leans forward to rest his head against yours as his eyes looked at your lips briefly before looking back into your eyes, ‘you might like what happens afterwards.’ He finishes as he caresses your jawline with his fingers.

‘Don’t.’ You tell him sternly, taking Sylus back a little. ‘Don’t say things like that if you’re just going to be giving me false promises and leave after I say it.’ You reiterated as you looked at his face as you felt a wave of embarrassment over come you as everything within you screamed to protect yourself.

‘What makes you think I won’t take what you say to me seriously? Have I given you any doubt to distrust me into thinking I would laugh at your innermost emotions?’ Sylus asked and when you didn’t respond his smirk faltered as a serious emotions overcame his face and he took a deep breath. ‘You know I would never laugh at your emotions right? What do I have to gain in knowing your feelings? For I would never use it against you, not when I know that I’d loose you and your trust for that matter.’ Sylus told you as he lets go of your wrist to hold your face between his palms instead, stroking your cheeks softly that you couldn’t help but melt into his touch.

‘I love you Sylus.’ You admitted softly but clearly enough for him to hear as his thumbs stopped caressing your cheeks. ‘I always knew I love you but didn’t want to say anything incase you’d find another person to call your muse, to call your kitten or sweetheart. Someone who can keep up with you where I can’t. I knew I couldn’t confess if I knew that this thing between us will never be anything but serious.’ You continued as you felt everything come to the surface, easing the weight upon your shoulders greatly as you could feel yourself breath properly once more.

Sylus didn’t say anything at first and it worried you, especially with the way he keeps his gaze locked on you as though nothing else mattered in this moment but you. It felt as though he could see right through you and directly into your soul and it made you feel a little exposed and vulnerable. It scared it greatly that your fears were proven right, so much that in the moment you tried to move yourself off of his lap, only for Sylus to pull you in closer to him by your face until you were touching noses and lips were ghosting over the others.

‘Sylus-‘ before you could finish your sentence, Sylus was quick to press his lips to yours as he began to weave his lips between yours with a tenderness and passion you weren’t expecting after confessing your innermost feelings. He held your face as though it was porcelain as he deeper the kiss, moving a hand to the back of your head to keep you close to him, all the while his other hand rested on your waist to pull you further into him as though you weren’t already physically close enough. It was passionate, sweet and warm as you found yourself putting your hands on his shoulders, bunching up the fabric of his expensive shirt under your grip as you melted into the kiss; wanting nothing but to forget everything else except the taste of his lips on yours.

Only for your lungs to burn, forcing you to pull away from him as you catches your breath.

Sylus smirked as he hurried his head into your neck, breathing heavily as his fingers traced your skin over your clothes lovingly while you rested your head against his shoulder, soaking in his warmth and comforting feeling you get from cuddling against his chest. ‘I told you I wouldn’t take you nor your emotions for granted kitten, why would I do that to the person I love?’ He says against your neck and you couldn’t help but smile goofily at his own confession as your heart fluttered.

You were glad that you finally got your feelings off of your chest…even if it did take a little nudge from your crimson eyed beloved to do so as you spent the rest of the evening in his arms and whispering sweet nothings to one another.

[tossawary]

General info: as far as I'm concerned, all of my fic ideas posted here are up for grabs.

Most of them, I'm never going to get around to writing, unfortunately, because I don't have the time, and even if I do write some out, I'm not going to object to someone else giving their own take. I very much subscribe to the "HOLY SHIT, TWO CAKES!" philosophy for fandom: more treats in more flavors is good.

Guidelines (as far as I can set conditions when I can't actually stop anyone): 1) If you get around to posting anything for this fic idea, I would appreciate being informed when you do. I may lose the notification because my brain is soup when I'm tired, so you can always message me again asking for a signal boost or something. I won't promise to read any fanfiction, because I may still be working on my own thing, but I still like being told.

2) I would also appreciate a shout-out, like an acknowledgement in the author's notes, for the inspiration, especially for very specific ideas with many details that get used. If you're going as far as to use dialogue that I wrote, then I would prefer a link to the original post / fic as well as a shout-out.

3) If I do decide to write out the fic idea someday, you have to be cool with there being two takes on it. We're not competing. No two people are going to have the same interpretation of a premise, which is great, when different fans are looking for different things. I'll probably be happy to link our works together. And if I am inspired by your work directly, if I do read it, then I will credit you for it, of course.

I am also fine with it if people write fanfiction of my fanfiction. If you write fanfiction of my fanfiction and say, "This fic sucked, I made it better," then it will hurt my feelings and I will probably block you, but I'm still not going to, like, ever try to set my followers on anyone. If you write out my fic ideas and you make any characterization or plot choices that are not to my taste, then I am going to go, "Oh, well, I hope they're having fun," and then get on with my day. If I somehow find out that you wrote my fic idea or fanfic for my fanfic and never told me about it, then I'm probably going to go, "Fair enough, I also generally prefer that authors do not acknowledge my existence," and it will not be a big deal.

So, go for it! Someone might as well try writing it and have fun with it, if I'm not going to, and also even if I do. ❤️

[hannahbarberra162]

Emperor's Prize (Alpha Shanks x Omega Reader) Part 2

18+ MDNI on Ao3

Seek medical attention for infected bite wounds.

The first chapter

Shanks POV

Hongo tilted his head to the side while contemplating your last statement. His mouth opened and closed before asking  “Captain, may I speak to you outside for a moment?” Shanks nodded, using his thumb to wipe away the tear tracking down the Omega’s face.

“Stay here, OK? I’ll be just outside the door,” Shanks said in your ear quietly, his stubble scraping against your cheek and earning him a shiver from you. Picking you off his lap with ease, Shanks set the Omega down on the unmade bed. You were still steadfastly looking down at your feet and avoiding eye contact with either Hongo or himself. Shanks stood up and followed the doctor, opening and shutting the cabin door gently behind him to avoid startling you. 

“Are you keeping her?” the doctor asked, letting out the breath he’d been holding.

Shanks hadn’t given it much thought in the short time he’d had the Omega on his ship. If Shanks was a better man, he could let her go back on suppressants while living in anonymity on a protected island. She’d made it years without being detected and likely could go back to doing the same. 

Or he could sell her and make a ton of Berri, maybe even equal to his bounty. This idea was dismissed at the thought of turning her over to someone who would traumatize her just as badly - or maybe worse - turned his stomach. Besides, the islands he protected were perfectly happy to supply him with whatever the crew needed. The Red Force was welcomed all over the Grand Line, Shanks had no need for more money.

“Yeah, I’m thinking about it,” Shanks said, rubbing his goatee. The idea to keep the Omega for himself had growing appeal. Your scent had started to perfume the cabin and it was taking everything in Shanks not to rub his nose on your scent glands. You had a subtle scent of lily of the valley and cedar that Shanks found incredibly appealing. With his status, power, and crew he could keep you safe from anyone else who would seek to have you. 

“Well, you’d better decide quickly. If you’re not keeping her, we need to get her off the ship immediately.”

“How much time do we have?” Shanks asked, peeking back in on your still form again. If he didn’t see you breathing and blinking, he would have thought you a statue.

“Only four to five days, and that’s if your presence around her doesn’t initiate her heat sooner which it likely will. If you’re not keeping her, we gotta put her in the infirmary, brig, or somewhere where your and Beckman’s scent is weak.” The mention of Beckman set Shanks on edge, surprising both himself and the doctor. He’d been friends with Beckman for over twenty years and this was the first time he’d ever felt anything so negative towards the man.

“How much do you know about Omegas?” 

Shanks hummed as he recalled that he had read a few books over the years, but hadn’t taken a particular interest in Omegas. He didn’t think he’d ever find one and he wouldn’t want to spend a single Berri on buying one through the slave trade. He’d bedded hundreds of Betas and even a few Alphas which had suited him just fine. “I know a little but not all that much truthfully,” he stated while looking at you through the circular window in the cabin door. You hadn’t moved an inch, your gaze still trained on the floor, sitting in the exact position Shanks had left you in. He could only imagine what Kid had done to you to train you to such a sick level of obedience. 

“We’ve got to get to an island and dock for the duration otherwise everyone’s gonna be miserable, especially Beckman. You’re not gonna want anyone else around her either.” 

“How do you know she’s going to be in heat?” Shanks asked, genuinely curious.

Hongo scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Doctor isn’t just a title, I went to a real medical school. I learned about all this and we need to get her ready. If this is her first heat like she’s saying it will be, it’s going to be intense.”

“What does that mean exactly? What do we need to do for her?” Shanks’s practical knowledge about heat cycles left something to be desired. He’d often glossed over those sections in manuscripts under the assumption that it would never apply to his situation. 

Hongo rubbed the back of his neck in thought. “If you’re keeping her, there’s a lot we need to do. First, she must bathe so I can tend to her wounds. After that, you’ll have to scent her. If you want the heat to go as smoothly as it can we need to erase any scent left from Kid and replace it with yours. That way she’s not searching for her old mate, even if they had a….bad relationship. We’ll need to get her soft, clean, unscented linens and blankets so she can make her nest. She needs to eat up - heats use a lot of the Omega’s reserves and she doesn’t have that much left. We need -”

Shanks cut off Hongo with a wave of his hand. “One thing at a time. First, let’s bathe her.” 

“After the bath, we’re gonna need Beckman,” Hongo stated.

“Beckman? Why?” Shanks was an Alpha too and stronger besides. Anything Beckman could do, Shanks could do better unless it took two arms. Belatedly, Shanks realized his feelings were the precursor to jealousy. He threw Hongo a frown before he carried on speaking in a sullen tone, “She doesn’t need him.”. 

“I’m gonna have to clean and dress her wounds,” Hongo explained.

“So? What does that have to do with him?”

“He’s gonna keep you from punching or trying to fight me. You’re not going to like watching me tend to her or hurt her, no matter if it's for her own good.” Shanks rolled his eyes at the doctor’s words.

“Pffff. It’s not gonna be like that, I can control myself. It’s not like she’s my mate,” Shanks scoffed.

“I’m getting Beckman,” Hongo stated, unmoved by Shanks’s self assuredness.

Your POV

You heard the Captain and doctor talking outside of the door but were lost in your own thoughts. You’d been off your homemade suppressants for a while but you had pointedly avoided thinking about the possibility of going through heat. You had chalked your rising temperature up to your wounds causing you to be feverish. Nuzzling into the cloak, you inhaled Shanks’s scent deep into your lungs. The velvety material and clean smell made you feel peaceful to the point of being a little sleepy. You ached to lay back on the comfortable looking bed and curl up into a ball but he hadn’t given you permission to. You wanted to pass and show that you could obey in case this was a test. Kid liked to test the limits of your obedience in creative ways and you’d learned your lessons the hard way. He would leave food out when you were hungry and punish you if you ate it, or leave out blankets when he’d told you to remain naked and enter his cabin randomly. So you sat even though you were bone achingly tired.

You tried to look about your surroundings surreptitiously while you waited. The wooden cabin was mostly tidy but well lived in. Clothes were piled on a lounge chair in the corner, a writing desk had letters, maps, and an inkwell on top, and a small bookshelf held a few tomes. A dark colored chest had more linens poking out of the corner while the bed you were perched upon was large and covered in fuzzy sheets and piled with blankets and pillows. You didn’t see any hooks or chains hanging from the walls, maybe the Alpha wasn’t going to shackle you to the bed. The room had the aroma of the Alpha and gave off the feeling of coziness, of snuggling under blankets on a cold night. It felt….homey.

The door opened and Shanks reappeared without the doctor. Watching the Emperor approach, you didn’t want to imagine his displeasure at finding you asleep on the bed when he hadn’t allowed it. Kid’s power was mind boggling to you and the Emperor had swatted him away like a fly. You would do anything to remain on the Emperor’s good side even if it was to your own detriment. You heard him approaching you and watched his sandaled feet stop in front of you. He didn’t stoop down to catch your gaze but you felt his hand land at the top of your hair. You winced, remembering all the times it had been pulled in the past. No pain came as Shanks just patted you and rubbed the strands of your dirty hair between his fingers.

“Hongo has to treat your wounds. We need to get you clean first though, yeah? And take these off too,” Shanks’ fingers left your hair as he spoke. He reached down into the cloak and pulled on the chain between the cuffs you were still wearing. Feeling the bed dip next to you, Shanks pulled one of the cuffs closer to his face to inspect the manacle. “Where’s the lock? They’re not welded shut,” Shanks noted. 

“Magnetic,” you said in your hoarse voice. Shanks’s face soured as he traced the smooth metal of the handcuff with his thumb.

“Ah.” Shanks seemed to mull your response over for a few moments before he commanded you to close your eyes. You complied immediately and heard crunching as the metal of your cuff fell off your wrists. You desperately wanted to see how the Emperor had gotten them off but you were waiting for his command. A warm and calloused hand rubbed your bruised wrist where the metal had been previously. “You can open them again,” Shanks said softly, running his thumb over your pulse. There were no weapons around and the Emperor’s sword was still sheathed within the scabbard. You could only guess the power he’d used to remove them. 

The door swung open and three men appeared, two carrying a metal tub filled with steaming water and the third with a bucket with toiletries. Shanks stood to put himself between you and the crew members, blocking them from your view. “Thanks, guys, just put it over there,” the Emperor requested, gesturing to the largest open area of the cabin. The men followed their Captain’s request carefully but a little water sloshed on the floor. Alarm shot through you at the sight of the water on the floor, and you hoped the Captain didn’t blame you or punish you for it. You nearly went to clean it but you hadn’t been told to leave the bed and the new men were still in the room.

“Is it time for introductions? I’m Lime -” one of the men began speaking in your direction.

“Ah, not now. Maybe later Lime Juice, sorry. Thanks for bringing the tub,” the Emperor said with genuine praise in his voice.

“No worries. Nice to meetcha Little Miss,” the man said easily. You didn’t reply. The men exited the cabin leaving only you, Shanks, and the piping hot bath. 

“Come on, then. Let’s get you in there while it's still hot,” the Emperor suggested. You nodded and stood up, shucking the Emperor’s cloak you’d been clutching.

Shanks POV

He shouldn’t have been surprised when you complied immediately, leaving his cloak on the bed and revealing your nude body. You’d been beaten into submission - if he told you to jump overboard he’d hear the splash shortly thereafter. His eyes raked over your form while you limped to the tub, noticing the bruising, the cuts, the marks he hadn’t before. Even in your currently broken form, you were breathtaking. Shanks’s fingers twitched with the desire to touch you but he stuffed his hand into his pocket for the time being, getting closer to aid your descent into the water.

“Why are you limping?” Shanks asked as you gripped the edge of the tub to lift yourself in. You froze in place, looking down at the water. Raising your foot behind you revealed a deep gash in the sole of your foot. Shanks crouched down to get a better look at the wound while capturing your foot in his hand. The doctor hadn’t inspected the bottom of your feet so he was sure Hongo hadn’t seen this one. The cut was clearly deliberate with how deep and uniform it was. Taking a deep breath to avoid swearing caused the tempting perfume of your cunt to hit Shanks’s nose. His first instinct was to hold you in place and run his tongue all the way up your legs till he reached your tantalizing pussy. Then he wanted to rub his nose up and down your slit until the scent of your pussy was all he could smell. Now wasn’t the time, you were shaking and tired and had a long way to go until you could rest.

“Ach. I wish you’d said something, are there any other cuts Hongo didn’t inspect?” Shanks said in mild admonishment. You licked your lips and nodded slowly. You were shaking, your shoulders hunched in to make yourself smaller. “Hey, don’t worry, I’m not mad,” Shanks said quietly, putting your foot back down and standing up, regrettably moving away from the scent of your groin. He cupped your face and rubbed his thumb over your cheek repeatably in an attempt to soothe you. “I’m not mad, I just need to know where you need medical attention. I can’t help you if I don’t have all the information, right?” You nodded, your hair obscuring your face from his view. “Where’s the other cut?” Shanks inquired while moving his hand to the small of your back.

You took in a deep breath and put your good foot on the tub, opening your legs to his eyes. At the very inner crease of your leg, where your thigh met your groin, was another infected bite mark. Shanks squared his shoulders and kept his face neutral. His first instinct had been to snarl at the offending sight but managed to restrain his response at the sight of you. Shanks saw your vacant gaze, shaking hands, and clammy skin and knew it would only make things worse.

“”S all right. We can let Hongo know later,” Shanks slipped on the mask of his affable nature as he spoke to smooth over the moment. “In ya go, Love,” Shanks said while picking you up by the waist and depositing you into the tub without warning. Shanks needed you in the water so your smell would dissipate before he lost control of himself. You hissed when your skin hit the water but otherwise made no movements. “Here you go,” Shanks said, handing you soap and a towel before dragging a stool over to sit near the tub. “You do your front, I’ll get your back.” 

You began lathering the washcloth with soap and warm water before you began rubbing down your arms and torso. Shanks maintained a steady one sided conversation while he started pouring water down your back. He was trying to acclimate you to the sound of his voice in an attempt to bring you comfort in what surely was an uncomfortable time. While lathering his own washcloth Shanks saw the formerly clear bathwater turning rust red with every swipe of your hands. As he began sudsing your back his eyes picked up faded scars he’d missed when looking over your more recent wounds. 

“I’m gonna wash your back now, ok? It’s hard to wash your own back and even harder when you only have one hand. There are more tasks than you’d think that require two hands, even beyond fighting or washing. Can you imagine how difficult buttons are to do with one hand? Or even tying boots? I have Beckman help me, that’s Benn Beckman, my first mate. You’ll meet him later, you’ll like him for sure. He looks gruff but make no mistake he’s a total sweetheart. He says that I milk it, and I do of course, but what’s the point of being a Captain if my first mate won’t hand feed me eggs every morning?” 

Shanks was acting casually but he noticed a miniscule shift in your mouth as he joked about Benn feeding him breakfast. You were close to smiling and Shank’s heart swelled with pride. He knew there was some glimmer of you buried deep within and he was going to bring you back to the surface. He finished washing your back and you’d washed your arms, torso, and legs but made no move to wash your hair.

“Do you want me to wash your hair, Love? I can if you’d like,” Shanks was trying to offer you as many simple choices as possible to show you that he wasn’t going to control every aspect of your life. You shook your head in response to his query. “Alright, go ahead then, almost done here,” Shanks said gently but to his surprise, you shook your head again. “No? I don’t mean to be rude sweetheart but your hair’s dirty, it needs to be washed.” 

“Cut it all off,” you rasped. Shanks tilted his head to the side, your request startling. Even male Omegas preferred long hair, it was simply a characteristic commonly associated with the dynamic. One of the most severe non-corporeal punishments an Omega could face was having a forced haircut. For an Omega to request a drastic haircut was unheard of. Your hair was long, indicating you’d been growing it long before Kid had gotten his hands on you even through your time being suppressed.

“Can I ask why?” Shanks questioned, picking up the soggy ends from the water. 

“Can’t be pulled,” you answered. You parted your hair in the back, showing a bald spot where your hair had been yanked out from the root. Shanks moved his stool so he was no longer sitting behind you but beside you.

“Look at me,” Shanks requested and you partially complied as you turned your head towards him. You looked at his chest but not at his face. “ Look at me,” Shanks repeated, this time with a Command. Not physically able to disobey an Alpha of his power, your widened eyes snapped to him. It was the first time he’d Commanded you to do anything, but this was important.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Not now. Not ever. You may not always like what I do, but I will never harm you. Do you understand?” Shanks said softly while stroking your cheek with his thumb. He’d done that a lot, he mused. Something about you called him to take care of you, to provide for you physically and emotionally. You nodded. “I’m gonna have to hear you say it,” Shanks said, almost sorry for forcing you to talk.

“I understand,” you stated in your ruined voice. Unsure if his Command was completed you continued looking at him. Shanks smiled at you and kissed the top of your head.

“I’ll tell you what, we’ll make a deal. I’ll wash and brush your hair for you tonight. If you still want to cut it off tomorrow morning, we will. We can have matching haircuts if you want,” Shanks said, flipping back his own hair for emphasis. A ghost of a smile turned up the corners of your lips as you nodded your consent to his deal.

Your POV

Your arms looped around your knees in the cooling water as Shanks washed your hair tenderly. You had been sincere in your wish to cut it - you never wanted to be dragged by your hair ever again. Shanks’s offer startled you since Omegas were often physically groomed to whatever standard the Alpha wanted regardless of how they felt about it. The bath had given you a lot of stress since you weren’t sure what to expect. Anything new, any deviation from the standard made you nervous since you couldn’t predict the outcome. It had been an all right experience but not as relaxing as the Emperor had anticipated. 

Shanks only had one hand but it didn’t slow him down when bathing you. He rattled on about whatever he was thinking about while you listened as he worked the soap onto your scalp and rinsed it. He was pulling the brush easily through your hair while telling you about a strange boy he’d met years before when there was a knock at the door. 

“Wait,” Shanks ordered in a tone more stern than he’d used when speaking to you. “Up, dear,” Shanks motioned with the hairbrush. The water dripping off you in rivulets left you exposed to the cold air making your skin erupt into goosebumps. Shanks quickly dried you off with a fluffy towel before he wrapped it around your body. After you were dried to Shanks’s satisfaction, he swapped the towel for a large purple robe, picked you up, and sat you on the chair by the desk.

“Come in,” Shanks said, sitting on the edge of the desk next to you. He took your wrinkly hand and held it in his own as you resumed staring at the floor. Three pairs of boots walked past and you heard them hefting the tub back out of the room.

“Blech, what’d she do? Bathe in mud?” one man said.

“Shut the fuck up,” Hongo replied calmly while coming to stand in front of you. He had his medicine kit again and you knew this part would be even less fun than the bath. Two pairs of boots stopped in front of you but you only recognized Hongo’s. The other male was also an alpha though not as strongly scented as Shanks.

“There’s a few more Hong,” Shanks said casually, stroking the top of your hand. “She’s got a cut on the sole of her foot and one on her inner thigh. Both need attention.”

“Alright, not an issue. Let’s get started,” Hongo said while setting his bag on the desk. “Over to the other side of the cabin,” Hongo ordered Shanks, who bristled immediately. 

“Nah, I’m gonna stay here,” Shanks said, keeping your hand in his own.

“No, you’re not. Go over there with Beckman. I don’t want to have to treat my own wounds in addition to hers when I stitch her up.” You cringed, waiting for the Captain to slap his subordinate but it never came. Instead, you heard a deep voice ushering the Emperor away from you.

“C’mon, Cap. ‘S for the best. We’ll be a few feet away and she’s a big girl, she can be apart from you for a minute or two.” You were guessing this was Benn Beckman, the first mate Shanks had told you about. Shanks whined in response but let go of your hand nonetheless.

“”M right here if you need me, Sweets,” Shanks reassured you as he receded. You didn’t protest but a part of you did wish Shanks was nearby. You didn’t feel all that comfortable around him but he was the person you were most familiar with. Hongo had been taking tools and liquids out of his bag in preparation for the procedures. After putting on a pair of glasses, Hongo snapped on a pair of rubber gloves.

“It’s not gonna feel great, but I’ll try to make it as painless as possible, OK? Let’s start with your neck, I think that’s the most severe. Did you wash it in the bath?” He asked, using the stool Shanks had previously occupied. You nodded in confirmation that you had followed the doctor’s orders.

“Let’s take a look, yeah?” You tilted your head to allow the doctor access to your neck. Even though you knew he was going to touch you, you still flinched when he made contact with your skin. “I’m gonna clean it and drain the pus. After I’m gonna have to stitch it,” the doctor informed you. You heard the sound of liquid moving and felt alcohol being applied to your neck. Not wanting to interrupt Hongo’s work, you stayed as still as you could even as the alcohol burned on contact with your wound. 

“See? Not even a single reaction outta me,” you heard Shanks say in the background and Beckman grunted in response to his captain.

After wiping down the area, you heard the clanging of metal as Hongo picked up a scalpel. You closed your eyes and waited for the sharp pain as the knife met your skin. Based on other wounds you’d received, you knew the doctor was trying to be gentle but you still hissed as he cut into you and pressed on the wound.

“No, sit down. She’s fine -”

“I AM sitting down, but I just wanna go -” 

“No, stay put.” You heard Shanks and Beckman arguing on the other side of the room. Hongo was right to bring the first mate, it sounded like Shanks was having a hard time watching the doctor tend to your wounds. You wondered if it was from possessiveness, like Kid, or because he didn’t like watching you being hurt. You didn’t think about it for long as a sharp pain crowded out your train of thought when the doctor began pressing on your wound to drain the pus.

“Not much more, almost there. It’s a deep wound, otherwise I wouldn’t have to stitch it.” You whimpered as the doctor pushed even harder for a moment, then covered the area with gauze. You heard scuffling again.

“Let go of me Benn, I need to - I said stop shoving me!” Shanks’ voice rose with more anger in his voice. His scent was starting to bloom, filling the air with the smell of oranges and cloves in an unconscious effort to soothe you.

“One more time and you’re out of the cabin until he’s done. Stop talking and distracting everyone. You know it’s for her own good so Let Hongo work,” Benn huffed. You couldn’t concentrate on Shanks anymore because the doctor started to stitch. You closed your lips into a thin line and screwed your eyes shut in a futile effort to block out the pain.

“Ah, relax, relax. If you tense your muscles it hurts more,” the doctor chided you gently as the needle pricked your skin over and over. You relaxed your face as much as you could. You’d had stitches before and you were no stranger to pain but the bite was in such a delicate and sensitive area you couldn’t help as a few tears escaped your eye. Finally, you heard the words you were waiting for.

“All done, just snipping the end of the thread. One more moment and we can move on.” Scissors were brought close to your face and snipped the end of the medical thread. “Look straight ahead for me?” Hongo instructed you, facing you head on. You looked forward, your neck aching with the effort. “And turn to the other side?” You turned and saw Shanks smiling and waving at you despite being held against the wall by Benn. You dropped your eyes after a moment too long.

“So what’s next? Shanks said you had a foot injury? Those are a real drag,” Hongo said, trying to make light conversation. You nodded and crossed your leg over your knee to show the doctor the sole of your foot. Hongo reached out to pick up your foot by the ankle and peered closely at the wound with his glasses.

“Knife?” he asked abruptly. You nodded. “Accident?” You shook your head. 

“Punishment. Ran away,” you said quietly. Hongo hummed and tilted your foot. You used the extra fabric of the extravagant robe to cover yourself more as Hongo lifted your leg and placed your foot on his lap. Shanks growled lightly but otherwise made no noise.

“Luckily it’s pretty shallow. Probably hurts to walk but it should heal quickly. I don’t need to suture it but I am going to wrap it,” Hongo explained. He cleaned the wound and used long nosed tweezers to get a few pieces of debris out. The digging was uncomfortable and made you try to jerk your foot back unintentionally but Hongo’s grip was tight. He finished quickly and wrapped the wound in gauze and bandages.

“Next is the leg, right? Let’s see,” Hongo offered. Your mouth twisted as you thought of having to show the wound. You pointed to the bed and hoped the doctor didn’t think you were arrogant.

“Sure, go ahead and lay down if it's easier for you,” Hongo offered. He picked you up and you heard the Emperor’s rumble returning, making you ball your hands into fists.

“Oi, you’re scaring her Redhair,” Benn said as you were placed on the bed. The rumble stopped for a moment but quickly resumed as soon as you opened your legs to show Hongo the wound. You were covering what you could with the robe but Shanks only got louder as Hongo came closer to you. As his head dipped low to look at it with his glasses, Shanks’s loud roar made you cower. 

“That’s it, we’re leaving,” Ben said, manhandling the Emperor out of the cabin. “I’m keeping this one outside. Let us know when you’re done. C’mon you,” Beckman said, still grappling with a struggling Shanks. You knew that if the Emperor really wanted to stay, no one on board could keep him out. You guessed that the Emperor was trying to allow Hongo to take care of you but the Alpha within him didn’t like the other male so close to you. You closed your eyes and willed this experience to be over as soon as possible. Hongo was touching your upper leg in a professional manner but the feeling of someone near your core had you near tears. This wound wasn’t as bad as the one on your neck since you had secretly washed it a few times. 

“All done. Good job, Omega. You did better than some of the men on board,” Hongo said before removing the gloves and putting his glasses back in their case. “You stay there, I’ll get Shanks.” No sooner had the doctor finished speaking than the door opened and the Emperor strode in, carrying a basket in his hand. You sat up and gulped, unsure how angry he would be. 

“Out,” he said to Hongo before he shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry Hong. What I meant was, thank you. And you were right about Beckman, owe ya one.”

“Owe me a bottle of booze is whatcha owe me,” Hongo said, smiling easily. “Have her eat and go to sleep. Poor thing’s exhausted.” 

“Already on it,” Shanks murmured. He placed the basket on the bed as the doctor left, taking his equipment with him. “Didn’t know what you liked, so I took a bit of everything. The crew already ate dinner and those assholes left no leftovers. Well, we didn’t really know you were coming, but Lucky’ll make you whatever you want tomorrow. For now, here’s a little snack.” Shanks reached into the basket and pulled out some cheese, dried meat, grapes, crackers, and some nuts. “I stole a bunch of this from Beckman’s cabin, he’s got good taste.” You hesitatingly reached over to the slices of cheese, taking one in your hand. Biting into it, you nearly moaned. You hadn’t had fresh food in forever, subsisting on whatever Kid remembered to bring into his cabin. 

You ate a few more slices in silence, Shanks leaning back on the bed and eating some of the mixed nuts he’d taken. “You want one?” he asked, holding a grape in his hand. You nodded and held out your hand to take one from the bowl. “Ah ah. Open,” he demanded, putting the grape right in front of your lips. You obediently opened your mouth and Shanks popped the fruit in. You didn’t know why but you felt yourself starting to blush faintly. You were wearing the Emperor’s robe, on his bed, after he bathed you, and yet feeding you a grape made you feel embarrassed? You yawned after you swallowed, your eyelids feeling heavy. You wanted to rest but were still unsure if you needed permission.

“Aw, you’re tired? ‘S alright, we can eat more tomorrow. Drink a cup of water and we’ll be off to bed,” Shanks said, pouring water into a cup from a bottle on the nightstand. Handing you the cup, your fingers brushed against his. You drank greedily, draining the cup in seconds. “More?” Shanks asked but you shook your head. He quickly put the food back in the basket and set it on the floor.

“Lay down. You look so sleepy little Omega. Come on, right here next to me on the bed, it’s nice and warm, I’ll hold you,” Shanks cooed at you. Your lip wobbled at the suggestion but you held firm and didn’t cry. You’d spent many nights on the cold floor of Kid’s cabin, your chains pulling at your weakened limbs. Crawling over to the head of the bed, you laid down on your side on one of the fluffy, feather filled pillows. The Emperor covered your body with his heavy blanket and you burrowed down into its warmth while inhaling the rich scent of the Alpha. You’d missed being warm and comfortable at night more than any other luxury, even more than eating regularly. Shanks laid down behind you and pulled you close to his body, draping his arm loosely across your torso. 

“Good night, little Omega,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

“Good night, Emperor,” you croaked, already half asleep. One thought tickled the corner of your mind before you could succumb to sleep completely. “The other ship?” You’d felt the Emperor’s boat rock earlier but you were too focused on your circumstances to notice anything else.

“Hm? Kid’s ship? Dorry and Broggy cut it in half,” Shanks mumbled while running his hand up and down your ribs. You hummed happily and let sleep overtake you.

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff @v1ennie @staarflowerr @treelogirl @rebeccawinters @nocturnalrorobin @mochiclouds @cursedforlife666 @epochal-oracle

[inkoutsidethelines]

Hoo boy. Okay. This reply got my attention, and I'm going to do my best to answer each point you raise. Because I think this is an incredibly bad faith reading of the Jedi and the Star Wars movies in general.

The Jedi are Detached from reality as it is perceived by humans.

There is absolutely nothing in the movies that supports this claim. Nor is there anything in the movies that support your claim that the Jedi don't perceive time in a linear fashion. Yes, some Jedi get glimpses of the future, or the past, but that is in no way the same thing as fully experiencing time in a non linear fashion.

Genuinely, I don't know where you got this idea from. I can't think of a single moment from any of the movies that supports it. You have simply made up a headcanon about the Jedi and decided that it was true.

Anakin, a person who clearly suffers from borderline personality disorder which comes with symptoms such as fear of abandonment, an unstable view of the self, devaluing or overvaluing relationships to the point placing of one’s self-worth entirely in another person’s hands, and more, literally needs unconditional love and support.

Anakin does not clearly suffer from borderline personality disorder. The movies don't support that, and no interview I've ever seen from George Lucas supports that. This is, again, a headcanon that you made up and have decided it's true.

He was simultaneously considered the “chosen one” and considered a burden or a problem.

Exactly one Jedi made a big deal about Anakin being the Chosen One: Qui-Gon. That's it. The Jedi don't treat Anakin any different than any other member of their order. Heck, potentially being the Chosen One wasn't even enough to convince the Council to let him join the Order in the first place!

As for treating him like a problem/burden...well, no, not really. Not in the movies. They get frustrated when he disobeys orders, but that's a fair reaction. Obi-Wan corrects him when he's getting too emotional, but that's literally Obi-Wan's job as Anakin's Master. They're upset when Palpatine forces them to give Anakin a seat on the Council, but that has less to do with Anakin and more to do with not appreciating Palpatine trying to manage Jedi business.

And that’s not even touching on how in Phantom Menace he created strong bonds with both Qui-Gon and Padmé only to have both of the ripped away right after he’d left behind everything he knew and loved.

...I'm not sure what you expect the Jedi to do about that? Qui-Gon died, and Padme was a Queen who had to go back to her own planet.

And Anakin choose to leave Tatooine and his mother behind to try and become a Jedi. Shmi encouraged him to go! And certainly an argument can be made that a nine year old can't fully understand that decision, but Qui-Gon did his best to explain what that choice meant, and that a Jedi's way of life is hard.

Anakin made choices. So did Qui-Gon, and so did Padme. The Jedi can't help any of that.

He was NINE and being told that everything he ever learned was wrong and backwards and leads to being evil and that he needs to be perfect for anyone else to think he belonged because even the smallest mistake would just confirm their preconceived beliefs about him.

I'm going to need some references for this claim, because I don't remember ever being shown this in any of the movies.

The Jedi are shown to respect other cultures, but Jedi have their own culture and standards that one must live up to in order to be a Jedi. There's nothing wrong with that! The Jedi are allowed to have their own culture, and they're allowed to have standards about who can join them.

Anakin never would have become anything like Vader without Sidious leading him.

It's quite possible that this is true. Though he did murder a whole tribe of Tusken Raiders, women and children included, years before he became Vadar. That being said, no amount of lies and manipulation from Sidious excuses the choice Anakin made to betray the Jedi and murder younglings.

That was a choice that Anakin made. Sidious didn't force his hand. Anakin made the decision that the chance of saving Padme - from a fate he didn't know for sure she'd experience! - was worth betraying the Jedi, worth murdering younglings, worth overthrowing the Republic and turning it into an Empire.

Anakin doesn’t view Padmé as a possession, I don’t know why anyone would think that.

Well - to stick to a movie example, since you indicated you don't consider the Clone Wars show to be canon - it could be because he never bothered to consult her in his "I will murder a bunch of younglings and help Sidious start an Empire to save Padme's life" plan, to see if she was actually okay with it. And once she finds out after the fact, and she IS NOT okay with it, Anakin responds by Force choking her.

That's why I call Anakin selfish and possessive. Because ultimately, he didn't care about Padme's feelings or opinions. Even if Anakin had been right that she was definitely going to die and Sidious would save her, Padme still would not have agreed to wiping out the Jedi and destroying the Republic to save her own life. Anakin doesn't just betray the Jedi and the Republic. He betrays Padme, her beliefs and values, because he can't stand the thought of being without her.

As for the unconditional love you say he needed? Padme did love him unconditionally. She loved him after he murdered a whole tribe of Tuskan Raiders. She loved him when she knew he was lying and keeping secrets from the Jedi Order that trusted him. She loved him after he betrayed the Jedi Order and the Republic, offering to run away with him and live hiding out from the Empire with their baby. Padme loved Anakin unconditionally and it wasn't enough for him.

Because Anakin was selfish. And he wanted everything. And he couldn't have it.

"no attachments" in SW literally just means "don't be selfish and possessive". that's it. that's all there is. doesn't mean jedi can't have friends and loved ones. they can. just. don't be possessive and selfish about it. don't murder thousands of people in an effort to save one.

[stargirl-russo]

Sailor Song (Alessia Russo x Reader)

Summary: Joining Arsenal WFC was supposed to be the best thing for your footballing career, you were the best female footballer in the world after all. You didn't expect the unexpected longing of a certain blonde that came with it. (Hi! I've never written fan fics before but I was inspired by some I read and thought why not?! i hope you like it, i honestly might delete later or return it to drafts if I can? or even a pt 2??? idk lmk if you want more! enjoy. do I need to add warnings>....suggestive? angst? )

Recalling the exact moment when it happened was difficult to comprehend, maybe because you tried to completely erase the moment from your memory. You felt embarrassed, ashamed, and even a little disgraced with yourself. Why did you have to like another girl, a straight girl, who definitely didn't feel the same?!

Joining Arsenal this season was exactly what both parties wanted - you needed a change in scenery, and they wanted - no needed - a more clinical finisher like yourself. Everyone at the team was especially welcoming, considering your intimidating resume of accolades at such a young age - taking the women's football world by storm. You got on with everyone on the team, especially the Aussies, Kyra, Steph and Caitlin - being Australian yourself. But one particular teammate stood out to you the most, for more reasons than one.

You'd never forget the first day you finally saw and met the Alessia Russo in person, after admiring her from afar for about a year. She was absolutely beautiful, incredibly captivating and alluring. Words couldn't explain how you felt when you saw her at training, or heard her laugh or when she would smile - which was always. The way your heart hammered against your chest, it felt like you couldn't breathe, the butterflies in your stomach erupted like crazy. These feelings, they just felt...right. She made you feel so giddy and happy.

Although the thrill of this girl crush was very exciting, a part of you couldn't help but feel extremely ashamed. You were not supposed to like a teammate, let alone girls. You couldn't help but admire her gorgeous blue eyes, her long lashes, her soft voice, and her long blonde hair as you smiled shyly and shook her perfectly manicured hand, introducing yourself. Her southern british accent made you weak in the knees. "I can't wait to share the pitch with you this season."

You were absolutely certain that no one knew about this infatuation, crush or admiration, or how down bad you were - whatever you wanted to call it - with Alessia Russo. It was just so easy to get along with her, your calm natured and laid-back personalities working well together. Both sharing certain things in common, attending the same college in the US for football at different years, your love for fashion, travelling, and similar music tastes. She was just so sweet, genuine, caring, and just a ray of sunshine - you couldn't get enough. The chemistry you both had was clearly evident on the pitch also, as your styles of play complemented each other perfectly; turning arsenal's season around with each match.

It scared you how you strongly you felt about her, as she probably had no idea about the effect she had on you, and above all, probably didn't feel the same. And now you were going to continue to play alongside her and work with her nearly every day this season. You'd eagerly wait to see your cheerful teammate and greet her happily weekly at training. It was a blessing and a curse, but it was something that kept you going.

Hiding your sexuality was something you had no trouble dealing with initially as you just constantly immersed yourself with the football: whether it was with routine season interviews, the sponsorship photoshoots, the constant training or the glamorous award shows - it kept you busy, a distraction which led to you further cementing your place as the best young women's footballer in the world. It's not anything anyone really expected of you anyway, to like girls. Besides, you never spoke about personal matters to the media, so no one really assumed anything at first. Which was a plus.

You'd constantly make excuses to avoid going out with friends away from football, who wanted to enjoy a night on the town, bragging about the boys they'd make out with at clubs, or the crushes they had on them. Not that you could relate though, but a part of you wished you could feel that sense of normalcy. To fit in, to relate. No one had no idea what you were going through or how you felt. It got harder to find excuses to deny random set ups with guys. Your feelings for Alessia were actually driving you to insanity, you were most likely going through an identity crisis - but you were still in denial.

However, the longer you concealed your true feelings and the harder you tried to deny it, you found it harder each and every day hiding how you felt about the certain blonde. It became more difficult to suppress your feelings, you wanted to talk to someone, - anyone - but you were afraid with how they would react if they found out. Besides you weren't going to embarrass yourself if she didn't even feel the same, what would be the point of coming out anyway right?!

But maybe you should've controlled yourself. You should have ignored her, distanced yourself even. It was fine though, you were just acknowledging that fact she was really gorgeous, and you weren't crushing on her - or so you told yourself. But the not-so-subtle glances at her during the training sessions said otherwise.

The glancing became constant, admiring her whenever she'd move with or without the ball or take a drink of water during break. You just couldn't help but admire her longingly. Thinking of believable excuses when being called out by the outspoken Katie McCabe became more difficult to articulate. You were certain Alessia was oblivious to this, and she was - for the time being.

It was supposed to be a post game interview focusing on the team's accomplishments this current season, given the difficulties the team faced at the beginning of the year. You expected to answer questions about your valuable contributions to the match and the squad, not some irrelevant, personal, stupid, phased, feelings that had nothing to do with football.

The lights were brighter than usual in the media room, you were riding a high after your incredible individual and team's performance. You couldn't stop smiling. Sitting in the media room alongside your captain Kim Little, you felt proud and finally content with yourself. You felt as if you were finally contributing to a team, a team that was winning. A distraction for the time being.

That is, until the question was asked.

You will never forget the way your stomach dropped at the question, the silence in the media room, the smirk on the reporters' face. He knew he struck a nerve as the colour drained from your face, you were no longer smiling. You're not sure why the question was asked or what value it had to the match you had just played, or above all - why this reporter was permitted into the the media room anyway asking such inconceivable questions.

You shook your head awaking from the absolute shock and audacity of the reporter. There is no way this is really happening right now. You were media trained - you got this. Totally.

'Could you please repeat the question?' You asked politely into the mic, besides the fact that your was voice now quiet and shaky as you squirmed in your seat, refusing to look at the reporter. He noticed your uneasy reaction, and pressed on, knowing there is more to what your letting on.

"Can you address the rumours within the women's football community that you currently have romantic feelings for your teammate, Alessia Russo?"

"What?! That's ridiculous. Next question."

Maybe you responded to that too quickly, way too quickly for it not to be suspicious as you dismissed him. To your knowledge, and last time you checked, you hadn't come out, you hadn't revealed how you felt about her to anyone - especially not Alessia, and you were certain someone as beautiful as her was taken - surely.....right?

Your throat was going to constrict, no doubt, your breathing becoming heavier and faster, your ears turning a bright red and your leg begins to bounce. Your eyes dart around the room. "How is this football related?" your captain Kim interjects, sensing your uncomfortable state as you fidget on the spot and find it hard to remain composed. She herself looks confused.

Both your heart and mind race. Who told them? How do they know? Where did they even think of something like that? They can't know. Does Alessia know?

You were widely aware that this post-game press conference was currently live. This didn't make the situation better. "Is there really nothing going on? You seem pretty flustered. Besides, you didn't deny it did you?" He smirked, a chorus of chuckles emerging from around the room.

"Stop instigating." The words pour out of your mouth defensively before you can stop them, let alone even comprehend what is going on. You can hear your heart beat in your ears.

"I'm not instigating anything, just trying to get the truth out of you. Why don't you start being honest? Show the world who you really are."

Your body shakes with frustration and panic, you can't do this anymore. You rush out of the media room, holding back tears of frustration. This is absolutely ridiculous you think to yourself, barging open the door of the locker-room, ignoring the looks from your teammates.

Silence fills the room, you look up at the television, seeing Kim still in the media room - the broadcast was indeed live. Shit. Alessia, along with everyone else definitely saw it. Shit. You freeze up.

Steph, your teammate turns to you "Hey, are you okay?" You refuse to say anything - afraid your voice might crack, further revealing your vulnerability. You refuse to make eye contact with anyone, especially Alessia. Steph senses the inner turmoil your enduring, and gestures everyone out of the locker-room.

You sit there with your head in your hands, as tears threaten to fall. You didn't reveal much in the post-match interview, so everything is fine right? But maybe thats the problem. You didn't deny anything technically - further exposing and embarrassing yourself and probably Alessia. You fail to notice she's still in the locker-room.

You look up slowly, locking eyes. Her ocean blue eyes bore into yours, a glimpse of concern and curiosity. "Can we talk?" She questions softly. Shit

"No thank you, I'd rather not." You say stubbornly, packing your wash bag quickly as she sits down next to you. You had to get out, you had to get away from her.

Alessia is surprised by your nonchalant response. "Lets just talk about this, please?" She says softly in a pleading voice, her eyes looking up, trying to lock with yours.

"I'm sorry." You say quietly, packing your bag and making your way towards the exit of the locker-room as fast as you can. You actually couldn't fathom that this was happening. Is this some sick joke?!

Alessia is concerned and saddened by your dismissive tone, she can tell that this whole situation has negatively affected you and is eating away at you. "Don't be sorry." She says softly, standing up. "It can be hard times, but I just want to understand whats going on. You clearly feel something. Something about me."

You stop in your tracks and turn around to face her, she makes her way towards you her eyes never leaving yours. Your heart aches, and she can see the adoration and the longing that you have for her in your eyes, behind internal conflict and self-hate.

"You're not a bad person. You know that I won't look at you differently." She whispers, pleading with you, trying to lock eyes with yours. "Please don't shut me out. I care about you, so much."

Alessia doesn't wait for a response. She steps closer to you now, closer the distance slowly. Your panting heavily, still refusing to look at her in the eyes, petrified you'd get lost in her ocean eyes. Terrified your eyes will reveal more than your words did in the press conference only moments ago. She can't feel the same. She doesn't.

She gently grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers with her ones. You feel as if you're going to have a heart attack, her touch sending bolts of electricity through your body. She can sense you're avoiding eye contact still.

"Hey, look at me" she whispers, staring at your now very flustered face, looking at you intently. Her eyes filled with concern, worry and something else, something you can't quite make out, something you've never seen from her before.

You still avoid her gaze, until she cups your cheek. You lock eyes with hers and you feel like you could die.

"just, look at me" she whispers once more, gently stroking your cheek bone with the pad of her thumb "thats it, just look at me."

Before you can stop yourself, the words fall out of your mouth in a whisper "i am. how can I not?" You let out a shaky breath at that, noticing her lips curl into a small smile, her eyes following your gaze down to her own lips.

"i know, I know you do, I see you" she whispers in response, moving closer to your face now, both your breaths mingling. Your heart continues to pound, her thumb gently traces your jawline, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity you’ve never seen before.

Its as if time has stopped. Your heart is pounding so hard against your ribcage you might have a heart attack. But her presence, the way shes looking at you, her voice, her touch—it makes sense in ways you never expected.

And then, just as you think you can’t handle the intensity any longer, she leans in. Were you about to kiss the girl you've been in love with for so long now.....

[cinnamxnangel]

showstopper ! (mlist)

warnings: none rlly! fluff, banter, banter, banter

chapter 4: it's not a date .ᐟ

"and cut! y/n, megumi i'd like to speak with you. privately." gojo calls out.

the three of us sit down in the producers lounge, waiting for someone to speak.

"you both are incredibly talented," gojo starts. "i don't have to say that, your work and success speaks for itself." i smile. "but i'm not feeling a lot of chemistry when we're filming. i know you guys may have your own feelings about each other," he says eyeing the both of us.

i didn't realize our dislike for each other was that apparent.

"that's fine and it's none of my bussines," gojo leans back. "but on set it's a different thing. it's a job, right?" megumi nods slowly. "that's why i think you two should go on a date of sorts."

"what?" we both exclaim at the same time. i look at him, annoyed.

"relax.. it's only for an hour. and it's not even a date, just the two of you hanging out alone." i can see gojo fighting the smirk on his face.

i want to slap it off.

"what are we supposed to do?" megumi asks. he hasn't looked at me this entire time.

he talks like i'm not even in the room.

"i don't know." gojo shrugs, the sly smirk now painfully visible. "you're both adults, figure it out."

we walk in an uncomfortable silence, purposefully not meeting each other's eyes. i hear a couple of kids laughing, running quickly to their destination. i crane my neck to see where they're off to in such a hurry. my eyes meet with a brightly lit neon sign that reads "arcade".

a smile finds its way to my face as i recall the days where i too found such excitement over simple things.

"what are you looking at?" megumi asks, realizing i've stopped in my tracks. "you can't be serious." he sighs once he reads the sign. i smile.

why can't i enjoy these things again?

my feet seem to move on their own towards the arcade, megumi unwillingly following behind me.

"what are you? 4 years old?" i roll my eyes.

"are you always this grumpy?" i ask.

" 'm not grumpy." he says, in an almost pout. it makes me laugh.

"i feel bad for anyone who has the displeasure of meeting you."

"self-pity isn't a good look on you."

"i wonder how your fans would feel if they knew how you really are?"

"they would say 'i can fix him'. my fans are delusional, they'd do anything for me." his words are sweet, but there's a look of distaste on his face, like they leave a bad taste in his mouth.

"what? you don't like your fans?" i ask, a slight smirk on my face.

"i never said that." he mumbles, avoiding my gaze.

"didn't need to," i shrug. i walk to the front, buying the ticket cards. i look over at megumi, one eyebrow raised. "do you want one?" i can see megumi contemplate the idea before finally exclaim..

"ah fuck it." i grin, buying cards for both of us. i thank the person, collecting the the cards. i hand one to megumi.

"you didn't even offer to pay?"

"you're a a-list celebrity, you don't need someone to pay for you."

"you're an a-list celebrity too. it wouldn't hurt to offer." i say.

"this was your idea, you pay." i roll my eyes.

rude, i think but from the expression of his face i realize i said that out loud.

"soo what'd you want to do first, princess?"

"don't call me that," i retort, shooting him a glare. i look around, the sounds of lasers and people's laughter filling my ears.

"uhmm.." my eyes linger on the giant crossy road game. i walk over, megumi trailing behind me. "i used to play this game all the time. i was soo good." i tap my card and place my fingers over the buttons.

i forgot how fast-paced this game was and i struggle to keep up. i die almost instantaneously.

"7 ?!" i exclaim. i can see megumi trying to hide his smile in the corner of my eye. i glare at him.

"like you could do better." a look of pure determination flashes in his eyes.

"oh yeah? bet." he taps his card and begins furiously clicking the buttons. he gets well past 7, finally dying when he gets to 151 points. he groans when he dies but looks at me with a smirk.

heat rises to my cheeks under his belittling gaze. "i haven't played in years, okay?" anger finding its way into my voice.

we continue playing for hours, these games turning into a competition, we had both won four, the last game deciding who's the winner.

"so what do i get when i win?" i ask, a smug smile plastered over my face.

"so certain you're going to win, huh?"

"of course." he lets out a laugh.

"what?" i ask, my brows furrowed.

"nothing, it'll just be all the more satisfying when i win." a ghost of a smile on his features.

his smile.

it was never sweet or genuine. it felt demeaning.

words cannot explain how badly i wanted to wipe that look off his face.

"ooo! let's play basketball!" i say, spotting the mini basketball game.

"alright. but I have to warn you, i used to play basketball in high school." my eyebrows shoot up at the idea of megumi being 15 years old, running around sweaty in a school gym. "don't look so disturbed."

"actually the idea of you being a ugly, awkward teenager brings me a lot of joy."

"i actually wasn't awkward or ugly."

"i think you're as delusional as your fans."

"okay, but we should have a prize or the loser has to do something." i say. megumi leans against the machine, thinking, his thumb and forefinger tapping furiously against each other.

"oh! if you lose you have to go on a date with my assistant." he says with a smug look on his face. i can tell from the look in his eyes that his assistant might not be the most normal person. but i take my chance.

"okay. but if you lose, you have to.. wear a shirt with my face on it for an entire day!" i smile. he shrugs.

"that's fine, you're not going to win. i suggest bringing pepper spray on your date."

we swipe your cards and grab the basketballs. there's a two minute timer, whoever gets the most points wins.

3, 2, 1.. go!

we both start to throw our shots and i don't bother to see how megumi's doing.

1 minute remaining !

"you might also need to bring a bodyguard. like a big one, todo is really buff."

"shh don't talk to me, i'm locked in." i don't look at him as i answer, continuing shooting.

time's up !

we look at the amount of points and-

"i win!" i exclaim. i jump up, a goofy smile painted over my face. his look of defeat brings so much satisfaction.

"you got lucky." he rolls his eyes. we exit the arcade while i continue to berate him and a scowl stays planted on his face.

but we don't notice, is the click of a camera, capturing a mundane moment between the two of us.

roll the credits !

first date? but neither of them like each other

arcade dates are SO cute! when is it my turn? huh?

also not the pap rn

can you guys feel the ship edits, ESPECIALLY w megumi wearing her face

a/n: i had loads of fun writing this one. we are getting more plot heavy 😈 next chapter will be interesting.. have an amazing, amazing day my angels!

taglist ! - @missunrise @cyberst4rs @qtnfer @rxi-n-lyche3 @kenmacantakemeaway @soobinbunnie5 @c-haefilms @lupicalbestwolf @babysoo-meu @stillnotherapy @cl3xr @starrysho @good-mourning0 @ifuhatemeiloveu @bunichuu @aestheticallyvini @mochroialainn @starsryi @ladytamayolover @megumislovedoll @dimwitfreakby @urfavlarry @yowumi @bubybubsters @gumims @samkickikc @sukuna5slut @sugacor3 @angelcakkess @rixo-19 @idkidk32 @pandabiene5115 @q2uq2u @ichorstainedskin @izanacult @adormae @samkickikc @meowforluv

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

you seem nice and are being polite so i am going to attempt to return the same energy: there is just no universe in which i think it is the case that the language i used, talking explicitly about myself, on my blog, qualifies as harm that i need to be morally responsible for because someone else saw it and made a series of unwarranted assumptions about me. none whatsoever. this is a principle that i hold deeply, and one i extend to you as well and to anyone reading this and to the person i blocked: everyone on earth is allowed to talk about themselves however they see fit in their own spaces. i believe we all deserve that. i believe in being mindful to some degree when we are speaking in the semi-public space that is a personal blog on the internet, and i am in fact generally quite deliberate about using first-person language, as i did in that post, partly because i know that sloppy generalizations can cause people to take posts personally in ways that can be pretty painful, and although frankly i also think many people could stand to get better at keeping it chill when a 3-line post from someone they don’t know who was probably not expecting it to go viral doesn’t encompass their personal situation, i do generally strive to avoid posting in a manner that might cause such friction. but that’s not what this was. i said “here’s what i’m doing,” and someone said, in effect, “fuck you for telling me what to do.” i simply cannot be held responsible in any way for someone wildly distorting the reality of what i said, and i am under no obligation to make any kind of space for someone whose only interaction with me literally ever is to be rude, obnoxious, and annoying directly at me. because that’s what happened here, to be clear: yelling at me about something i quite literally did not say while seeming to make a million unwarranted assumptions about me (a stranger) is a rude thing to do. it is bad behavior in no way justified by the trauma of seeing a personal post about how a stranger on the internet is thinking about the election. absolutely no one is obligated to put up with that shit. if someone wants to take the high road on the matter, that’s very nice. but that’s a favor. it’s not a requirement. if you’re going to be a dick at people - literally at me, like, if they had screenshotted my post to yell at me on their own blog not in a million years would i have responded even if somehow i found out because they would not be doing it literally to my virtual face - you have forfeited the right to expect anyone to respond to you without matching your energy.

it is so, so, so obnoxious to see a stranger talking about themselves and decide it’s appropriate behavior to get in their face and yell at them that they’re doing emotions wrong. i don’t see this as an understandable overreaction after the thousandth paper cut. i just don’t. i see it as someone behaving without any consideration for the fact that other people have interiority. and i don’t think there’s ever a situation in which we are required to greet that particular form of myopic entitlement with gentleness. there are times where that kind of thing may be at some point met with forgiveness, for, like, a person in my actual life and community, although i’d like to state for the record that my friends are almost exclusively people carrying a fuckload of shit and literally not one of them has ever engaged in this kind of behavior, because it’s actually really easy to not be an asshole on the internet. but i just can’t get behind the idea that any of us owe shit to someone whose literal only interaction with us is ever was making up a guy in their head to get mad at and being a dick to us. i don’t believe it is prosocial or good for everyone to endorse the norm that if someone takes the time to behave badly towards you, a stranger whom they don’t know from adam, the only correct thing to do is shrug it off or accept that actually it’s reasonable of them to have gotten mad at you for something you didn’t do. i believe that thinking that way does nobody any favors. i think it’s bad for everyone.

my other grounding technique is remembering that the earliest abolitionists & the earliest suffragists had no proof that the world would ever make possible what they fought for and indeed many of them did not live to see it come to pass. and yet they did not succumb to despair so it would be disrespectful to their memory to let it overtake me

[sashaisready]

Since You've Been Gone: Chapter 1

Bucky Barnes x Reader

After a regrettable first meeting in the cemetery, you discover that you have something in common with a certain member of the Avengers. Unfortunately, you can't choose your neighbours, even in death.

(Setting is approx. post TFATWS)

Hi, I'm back! I have no idea where this came from, or where it's going! So apologies as updates may not be consistent while I figure it out. Warnings for death of parents, grief, mentions of cemetery/graves - please tread carefully if these are triggers for you.

🍂

It was a chilly Autumn day, but not unbearable. Your coat could more than handle the frigid breeze. You squinted at the headstone as you crouched on your knees, angling your head to make sure you hadn’t left any streaks or marks from the polish. Satisfied with your performance, you trimmed a few of the roses that were leaning against it before standing and taking a step back to admire your handiwork.

Immaculate as always, so neat you could almost be fooled into thinking you weren’t even outside. You could hear your parents’ voices in your head now, joking about being able to keep their graves far cleaner that you ever managed your bedroom to be, their frequent nags falling on deaf adolescent ears.

You smiled sadly as you looked at the intricately engraved text below their names on the shared stone:

Beloved parents taken too soon,

Waiting in heaven to be reunited with their only daughter

You’d never really like that phrasing; it was a little too whimsical for your tastes – especially all these years later. But a recently orphaned teenager wasn’t exactly an expert in choosing the best headstone wording. You’d been more than happy to let your aunt and the funeral home lead the way, too paralysed by grief to make even the smallest decisions in the hellscape that was death admin.

Still, you’d never want to upset your aunt by getting it changed, there’s a lot of strange emotion tied up in grief even when time has passed, and that mourning teen has become an adult. And it wasn’t like new headstones were cheap anyway…

As you packed up your cleaning kit your attention was drawn to the two graves next to your parents’ - George and Winnifred Barnes. They had both passed several decades earlier, long before your parents were buried next to them. They had died only a few months apart according to the text…maybe they’d couldn’t survive without each other.

It was easy to infer that they no longer had anyone left earthside. The graves had been long untouched, unkempt, and overgrown, the inscriptions getting harder to read – and you’d never seen any evidence of a visitor in all your time coming here. Except of course when the cemetery staff did one of their occasional mass clean-ups of the neglected graves.

About a year ago, you’d started tending to them alongside your parents. You weren’t sure why, it just seemed like the right thing to do. They were neighbours after all. And you’d want someone to do the same for your mum and dad if you weren’t around.

You’d cleaned their stones, wiped away the grime and given them a decent polish. You’d trimmed back the weeds and laid fresh flowers. The first time took a while, but after you’d got them to a reasonable standard it was all pretty easy to maintain.

You’d often wondered who they were. What they were like. The dates suggested they’d died of old age, a luxury your parents didn’t have. Were they kind? Funny? What hobbies did they have? They were around during the war, that must’ve been tough. You knew from the inscriptions that they had children who would’ve been over hundred by now. Maybe no grandchildren which is why nobody came by to see them anymore. It made you feel sad, how we could all be just a few generations away from being forgotten entirely. At least you could try to remember them.

You gave their graves a quick once over, took away the dead flowers and added some fresh roses in their place.

“Well, I’m done,” you said aloud, “see you soon, mum and dad. And you too, George and Winnifred. Sleep well”.

You sighed, walking back to your car and back to your life. You knew all too well that the dead may be still, but the world continues around them.

🍂

A week later you were back at the cemetery with your cleaning kit slung over your back, your arms full of fresh flowers.

“Afternoon, mum and dad,” you said as you placed your kit and flowers down and pulled out the foam pad that you used to kneel on, “and you, George and Winnifred”.

“Work has been kicking my ass this week,” you sighed as you got to work on your parents’ stone. “There’s only so much I can take of Brock’s moaning about the numbers…it’s getting harder not to smash my keyboard over his head – yeah I know, violence isn’t the answer, blah-blah-blah…”

You worked diligently, chatting away as you went through your maintenance tasks. It was nice, talking to them like this. You could say anything, really. No judgements, no admonishment, just silent acceptance of everything you told them. It was a bit like therapy for you. You often imagined your parents were sitting behind you as you spoke, just out of sight.

You liked to use old newspaper to buff up the marble. As you gathered your things together, you glanced at some of the headlines from the copy you’d brought with you. Lots of dreary grimness unfortunately. There was also a longread feature on the Avengers and where they were now, their photographs lined up across the top of the page. It was sad that a few of them were dead now, or at least no longer here. You felt a pang of sadness for their loved ones – you knew what that was like.

You didn’t know all the details of The Avengers and their associates, but like everyone else you knew the basics. It was a strange time, just a decade or so ago nobody had ever thought superheroes really existed…but then all of these ‘enhanced’ people started crawling out of the woodwork, revealing weapons and technology that previously had only existed in sci-fi movies. It was hard to believe, really.

You scanned the newspaper page, looking at the pictures for a few moments. You took your time studying their faces before sighing and placing it back down.

“All done…now let’s help out George and Winnie over here, looks like you guys need some new flowers…and all that heavy rain we’ve been having has really done a number on your stones…let me just-”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the gruff voice behind you demanded, causing you such a shock that you nearly joined your parents.

You spun your body away from the graves, horrified to see a man looming over you as you stared at him open-mouthed in surprise. You hadn’t heard him approach, not quite understanding how you hadn’t noticed him coming at all…

“I said what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he repeated to you, his blue eyes alight with anger.

He was big. Bigger than you. Even under his coat you could see his broad shoulders. A mop of dark hair framed his face, most likely quite an attractive face when it wasn’t pulled into a furious sneer like it was now. He wore black gloves as he pointed at you accusingly. The fact that you were kneeling on the ground while he stood towering at his full height had not gone unnoticed by you.

There was something strangely familiar about him, but you couldn’t place it. Did he shop at the same market as you? You couldn’t quite…

“I’m…I’m just-” you spluttered as you fumbled for the words, still caught in your surprise and the fact that this normally serene time had been interrupted by a stranger yelling at you…

“Get away from there!” he snarled.

You quickly realised he was talking about the Barnes’ graves. You bounced backwards, landing painfully on your ass in your desperation to do what he said. He had a chilling air of authority that you didn’t want to screw with. You weren’t trying to piss off an angry man while you were out here all alone…

“I was just tidying them up,” you managed weakly as you sat up and clutched at the flowers.

“Nobody asked you to,” he scoffed in response as he leaned over and ran a gloved finger over Winnifred’s inscription, “you shouldn’t be clambering all over graves of people you don’t know”.

You frowned as the initial shock of the encounter wore off, now annoyed now at his abrupt rudeness towards you when you only had good intentions.

“Oh, and you know them, do you?” you snapped back sharply as your felt your emotions surge and your eyes water, your cheeks hot with mortification, “well, nobody has been to visit those graves in years so-”

“Yeah, actually I do know them - I’m their son,” he spat furiously.

Your head bounced back in surprise and confusion. You curled your lip and frowned at his strange claim, he appeared to be his mid-to-late 30s at most – many years away from the very elderly man he’d need to be for that to be true.

What was his goal here, exactly?

Was this guy just looking to start an argument and decided you’d be his target? Spouting off nonsense about random graves just to mess with you?

And where did you know him from?

Despite your survival instincts, you couldn’t help but fight back. You didn’t appreciate being messed with at the best of times, let alone when you were only here to visit your deceased loved ones. Who came to a graveyard to fuck with people? And yell at them?!

“Huh? Son?” you scoffed with derision and jabbed a finger towards the inscriptions about their children, “well, that can’t be true as that would mean their kids would have to be over a hundred…and how many one-hundred-year-olds look like you…?”

“I’m 107 years old, actually,” he said venomously. He sounded utterly sincere despite the ludicrousness of his claim. His face was sullen, his eyes piercing.

You ignored the shudder that threatened to roll through you in response. It was a strangely familiar expression on his face.

Where had you seen that look?

“Oh, yeah! You’re 107…Sure!” you laughed sarcastically. “You just have the greatest plastic surgeon of all time, in fact there’s a bunch of centenarians wandering around looking thirt-”

You trailed off as a wave of recognition suddenly hit you and the penny dropped. Oh. Oh.

He wasn’t from the market…

It was him.

Your eyes panned down to the crumpled newspaper lying next to you. The same man’s face scrutinised you from the page, an exact mirror image of the brooding 3D version in front of you. A little older now, but still unmistakably the same man.

Oh!

Now you remembered that same picture on the news. Read about the terrible things he’d done before when he was under hypnosis. For the Nazis? The Soviets? Both? Flashes of recollection hit you at once, disjointed and scattered.

It wasn’t really him doing all of it, it was a mind control thing, they’d said. He was like the Captain…the first one from the 40s. Kept young…somehow. He had a robot arm. Then there was the big government pardon after he’d helped to save the world. The deep dive the New York Times had done on his assassin past. What had they said he was called? Iceman? Winter? Winter hitman?

The Winter Soldier.

Barton? Baines? No, Barnes.

Barnes.

As in…son of Winnifred and George?

Ah.

He must’ve seen your train of thought written all over your face as he nodded solemnly at you.

“Yeah. It’s me. And I only found their resting place a few weeks ago,” he said with disdain.

You got to your feet, taking a few cautious steps backwards. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. You didn’t need to be a jerk - I’ve just been coming here for years, and I’d never seen…”

You trailed off, he didn’t care. His focus was on the graves, one gloved hand gripping the top of his father’s stone as he peered down at the grass below.

You turned to leave, giving him his privacy, “I’m sorry for your loss,” you mumbled quietly as you picked up your kit.

You started to head back to your car, then turned to face him again after a couple of steps. You warily moved back towards him and leaned over, placing a single flower between the feet of his parents’ graves. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t pick it up and throw it back in your face, either.

As you walked away, you thought you felt the weight of his gaze on your back.

🍂

Another week passed and you were back at the cemetery once more, working the usual routine and doing your best to forget what had happened the last time you were here. Upsetting a war veteran slash Avengers superhero by accusing him of not being his parents’ child was impressively incompetent, even by your standards. But in your defence, he did just start yelling at you out of nowhere. And you were only trying to help. And he was a literal defiance of nature, time, and aging…

But then again, people weren’t always their best selves in a cemetery. It wasn’t exactly Happy Hour over here. And you’d probably freak out too if you caught a stranger tinkering around with the resting place of your parents. The parents who died of old age while you were cryogenically frozen and a prisoner in your own body…

You’d done a little more reading up on him, James Buchanan Barnes. ‘Bucky’. The man behind the scary winter soldier mask. The older images of him in his combat gear were chilling, as were the alleged stats of his kills, but mainly you just felt immense empathy for a man out of time. A man who had lost his youth, a limb, his autonomy, and everybody he once knew from his old life.

You tried to put it out of your mind, catching your parents up on what they’d missed and pretty-ing things up a little around their plot. You didn’t touch the Barnes’ this time, just gave them a little wave and concentrated on your own flesh and blood.

You were a million miles away, lost in the quiet fog that often seemed to overtake you when you were working in the cemetery. It was peaceful, really. This was the one place you could switch your brain off and quiet the chatter of your head, just concentrate on the tasks you knew so well by now that your hands did them on muscle memory alone.

You were just adjusting the newest flowers when a voice interrupted you.

“Hey,” it said.

It startled you as you were still in your own world and hadn’t heard anyone else approach. You whirled around slightly panicked as a pair of eyes the colour of sapphires met yours.

It was him again.

“Oh, hello,” you replied quietly.

He stared over at you, wrapped up in his coat as he was last time. His stare was still intense despite appearing much calmer than when you first met him. He wore black pants and boots, his hands tucked away into his pockets, a dark backpack slung over his shoulder. His face was more relaxed than it was during your first encounter. His blue eyes were just as arresting, but the absence of anger made them sparkle rather than burn. He had a soft dusting of stubble across his taut jawline, his dark hair was pulled back behind his head as he absent-mindedly ran a hand over it. He was…

…hot?

Fuck.

He nodded at you in acknowledgement and moved to George and Winnifred’s plot, kneeling in front of their stones. He pulled a candle out from his backpack and lit it with a lighter, placing it between where his parents lay.

You turned away sharply, not wanting to look like you were intruding during what was clearly a private moment of mourning. You focused on your own parents’ graves, clipping back the flowers as quietly as possible.

The two of you continued doing your own thing, the awkwardness thick in the air. You remembered how furious he’d been with you last time. You considered saying something, trying to explain that you were only trying to maintain the graves, but you didn’t want to provide any more ammunition for potential anger. Instead, you continued your routine in silence, keeping your eyes down.

After you finished you packed up your stuff and cleared your throat, ‘uh, bye,” you said quietly to him as you hurried down the path and back towards your car. He didn’t respond, but looked up at you as you passed, studying you intently.

[deeppenguinstudent]

I don't care. I will ALWAYS defend Thea muldani. You guys talk about the age range between Kevin and Thea, which is so dumb because Kevin was 18 and Thea was 21. That is basically Jerejean's age range (22 and 19), which is 3 YEARS. And I don't see anyone talking about Jeanne's age range? (19 and 24).

To the people saying that got mad that she said, "Are you sure ur not up to ur old tricks again?" literally just what? Please, please read her wiki because the reason she said that was because she thought tetsuji was the one who beat him up, NOT riko.

She was the ONLY one so far that even questioned riko's authority and acknowledged he was a bastard (somewhat). She's not fucking blinded by the Nest. She's JUST Exy obsessed like Kevin!!

Also let's talk about this?

The rumours had gotten so bad that both the master and Kevin also believed Riko's words? How the hell was Thea supposed to know anything? She was a victim as well and it just annoys me so much when people use this to just completely stain her character and make her a huge bitch. She's literally a dark skinned woman. Even tetsuji told her that she has to work twice as hard because people wouldn't take her seriously. If she even had an inkling of an idea knowing what they did to him, she would fuck them up

Also the reason why no one batted their eyes was because the Ravens fucking eachother is completely normal. It's some sort of screwed up thing that's been going on for generations, even before Riko and Kevin had joined Evermore.

To the people who say Thea does not care about Jean I will literally chew your lungs BECAUSE HAVE WE BEEN READING THE SAME BOOK.

Do you guys not realise how close Jean and Thea truly were? Thea and Kevin were the only two that Jean actually had a good relationship with in the Nest. Just look at the text!! Thea is one of Jean's weaknesses because he trusts her so much, and we know that Jean always blurts out shit he's not supposed to when he's beside people he really trusts (Neil, Jeremy, Kevin)

Her little parisian duckling! He literally followed her everywhere 🙁🙁 Gosh they mean so much to me. (Also, the reference to Elodie's duck dress and Thea's way of calling him?)

Last bit. I just find their relationship is just watered down SOOOO much because people hate Thea for unconventional reasons. You can dislike her character for sure, but I feel like a lot of people have so many misconceptions about her so I just wanted to clear it up!!

Please Nora give us more Thea and Jean in TSC2 😔😔😔

Edit: Sexual grooming is the action or behavior used to establish an emotional connection with a minor under the age of consent and sometimes the child's family to lower the child's inhibitions with the objective of sexual abuse. This is the definition of grooming btw and it's confirmed that Thea dated two other people when Kevin was a minor and didn't think of him like that until he was a freshman in college ie 18 years old?? It's completely different because she wasn't even pursuing him at all??

[zoppa682]

For any nonhumans struggling with species dysphoria, I want to help you all as much as I can. I've been experiencing it all week. It can be quite exhausting and put you in a lot of distress, in my case. X(

Here are some tips I'd recommend to help:

1. Mimic the diet of your kintype/theriotype. You are a shark? Eat seafood. A dragon? Maybe try to burn some food a little (or turn it black like my own preference if you want). You kin a character from [Insert source]? Try recreating foods/dishes from their world or dimension.

2. Listen to relatable music. I'd recommend making a playlist of any songs that feel species affirming/euphoric, or even echo that dysphoria further, therefore turning it relatable. (Few of my favorites are Bones by Imagine Dragons, Control by Halsey, Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land by MARINA, Momento Mori by Fish in a Birdcage, among other songs that feel therian coded to me).

3. Do vocals. Howling, barking, screeching, or roaring are very relieving if you are in the correct space to do them! If you are in a quite space or do not want to out yourself to anyone, try purring, growling, hissing, or other unnoticeable sounds. You have an object kintype? Mimic the sounds of the object, like beeping, clicking, etc. (I personally make microwave sounds just because it is fun). Recite voice lines of your kintype from the source they are in. Mimic their voice and volume to match.

4. Move and physically act like your kintype/theriotype. Quadrobics, mimic the flapping of wings, walk bidepedally, whatever you do, turn your mannerisms and motion to reflect your kintype/theriotype.

5. Dress like your kintype/theriotype. Is your kintype a character? Cosplay them, or mimic their clothing style, clothing color, hairstyle, etc. If they have tattoos, scars, or patterns on their body, copy them on your physical form with paint or pens. (PLEASE USE NON TOXIC MATERIALS. STUFF SAFE FOR YOUR HUMAN SKIN.) Are you a species of animal(s)? Dress in your species' colors, or, once again, paint or color yourself like it/them. Are you perhaps any other form of creature or object? You can use the same tips as the others, and another idea that works for all is that you can buy costume pieces of your kintype/theriotype. Masks, headbands, just normal clothing in general, the options really are infinite.

6. Express your dysphoria through artwork. I love doing art when I am heavily species dysphoric. Drawing, crafting masks, origami, painting, collages, all are forms of art. If you are skilled in music, then you could even create some songs of your own!

7. Go out and explore nature. This one is mainly targeted towards therians, whose types are grounded on the life on earth rather than other dimensions or universes, but just like the other methods, it can be universally used by any types of nonhumans. Collecting things is my favorite way of exploring nature. Collect rocks, shells, sticks, leaves, bugs, plants, anything that makes you feel more comfortable in your own (unfortunate) physical body. Stay grounded in the world around you and you may find the dysphoria slips away. Hiking and going on short walks can also help, building a den, smelling the scents of the outdoors. All great ideas that I personally recommend.

8. Write about your feelings. Whether you are good at expressing yourself through poetry, you keep a diary/journal, or you can project onto OCs for new backstory lore like I do, writing can truly help with any dysphoria. Not only that, but it is sometimes refreshing to come back later and read about what you were feeling before. It can serve as a great reminder that you are a powerful being and you will always overcome the feelings if you try.

9. Research about your kintype/theriotype. It does not matter if you are an animal, concept, or object from earth, a being from fantasy, or a character from the greatest book or show, you learn something new every day. So why not learn about yourself? Read books or watch animal documentaries of your theriotype(s), same thing for you otherkins and your fantasy species. Fictionkins can look up facts about themself as a character, their book, show, game, etc.

10. Talk and interact with other alterhumans/nonhumans. Remember, we are a community, and while you are experiencing horrible episodes of species dysphoria, there are many other beings going through the exact same thing at the exact same time. So why not talk to them about it? Share your experiences, help eachother cope, you may even connect with more individuals that way, building more relationships with others and meeting new beings.

11. Past life meditation. If you are a nonhuman who has a past life/lives, you may find comfort in meditation, where you can truly tap into what you once were, and still are in this life as well. Look to the forgotten, and turn in to remembered. Open up your past and live over again.

12. Listen to sounds. Nature sounds, voices of other characters you know from your world, vocals or sound effects of your kintype. These are all good options to turn to if you want to feel at ease with yourself.

13. Let your emotions out. Sometimes this is all you really need to do when species dysphoria hits hard. Cry, bite things, claw at pillows, LET IT OUT. There is absolutely no problem in being yourself and expressing your heavy emotions in your own, unique, nonhuman way. You may find you feel much better after.

That's all I've got, but I hope whoever/whatever reads this far has an amazing day/night. You are an amazing being, thank you for embracing yourself and living authentically. <3

[austenpoppy]

Personally I DO think the way he acted in the Outsiders was completely, 100% OOC, didn't make sense if you look at the way he acted in the Nightwing run and other books from the Batfamily in which he appeared at the same time (the exclusions being a few mentions of Dick being in the Outsiders, and one or two team-ups with the Titans), and has a timeframe that, literally, is impossible to combine with the rest of what was going on. Plus it deconstructs everything Dick's tried so hard not to do and chose not to do over and over again, it takes years of character development and shoves them in the bin.

I don't understand how anyone could read Nightwing (1996), Robin, Gotham Knights or Detective Comics and Outsiders, think they happen in the same continuity and not get wild whiplash, or not think Dick's got some serious personality disorder.

When are we supposed to think that Dick started mourning Donna, exactly ? Considering Helena's presence and the way they implied Dick and her had history, I assume this is supposed to be set after "No Man's land". The problem is, we never see Dick being seriously depressed in the Nightwing run, apart from that time he beat the Joker so hard his heart stopped. And even then, Dick never mentioned Donna at the time, it really was all about how his actions didn't match with his perception of himself and how that made him feel like the worst person on Earth.

The rest of the time, Dick is shown to be pretty happy, or at least rather optimistic and open - pretty much the whole point of Chuck Dixon's run is that Dick builds his own thing in Blüdhaven and starts to find his footing. It culminates in Dick declaring in the beginning of Devin Grayson's run that he's "happy" and that he feels "good about what he's been doing for a while now". And considering how quickly Dick's life unravels in that run, Dick is "supposed" to be with the Outsiders at this point.

And even then, let's say he wasn't at the time he said that - why would he still act generally happy up until he gets fired from the B.P.D. ?

How do we reconcile the idea of a Dick who's optimistic and builds emotional connections with his neighbours and with his coworkers at the B.P.D. (Amy then Gannon Malloy) and brings people into his life (Dave and Kesia Toussaint being the most obvious example of this), while making effort after effort to be there for his friends and family, and has no problem teaming-up with others (Babs, Tim, etc., and that's without the consideration that one of one of Dick's first thoughts after meeting Tarantula is that she might become one of his allies), with a Dick who's so deeply mourning Donna he decides to become distant with everybody (yeah, if you read Outsiders: Secret Files and Origins, Dick is said to hold Raven and Dick at a distance and barely care about them (!!!!!!) and tells Tim they should be working on their own) and to be closed off and apathetic ?

Am I supposed to believe Dick's happy to have his little family in Gotham and his circle of neighbours, friends and coworkers in Blüdhaven, but somehow whenever he goes to New York he suddenly becomes an ice prince who closes himself in his tower ?

Here's a glaring example of how drastic the changes are : Dick is sympathetic toward Helena when they first meet, and he still has affection toward her in "No Man's Land". At the very end of Gotham Knights, Bane has a revelation (he thinks he's Bruce's brother) and the family works with him cautiously. Helena sees that and is understandably furious at the hypocrisy. And yet Dick runs after her to try to justify what's going on. And then we have Dick in the Outsiders, who is very hostile to Helena and hates her guts, while Helena says he secretely wants to sleep with her. And yet when Dick's Renegade in Nightwing (at this point he's already "left" the Outsiders, but I'll come back to that later), the first person he turns to when he doesn't know what to do with Sophia Travis and Rose is Helena, and there is no mention of any hostility between the two.

No matter if you place Dick's interaction with Helena in the Outsiders before or after their discussion in Gotham Knights, you'd have to wonder if Dick's taking crazy pills if you truly believe he'd go from being sympathetic to someone to hating their guts openly without reason, then go back to trusting them without apparent reason either.

The truth ?

Dick was never written as mourning Donna in his own run or any of the Bat-related comics, and it shows. Thus Dick was never mourning Donna in those issues.

Then there's his "departure" from the Outsiders, that should give everyone a headache. If we were to believe "Identity Crisis", Dick was still with the Outsiders during the Crisis. Also he was back on his feet and running everywhere without crutches...while in his solo run Dick will be using crutches for weeks at least.

And that means that everything that went on with Blockbuster and Tarantula happened before he left the Outsiders. Yet in his solo run, after the events of "War Games", Dick decides to "make things right" and turn himself in with Tarantula. So...am I supposed to believe Dick got raped by Tarantula, got shot in the leg, was back on his feet for the battle that led to Indigo's death, decided to leave the Outsiders saying it'd gotten "personal" though in reality he just wanted to turn himself in for murder, then slept with Starfire before confronting Tarantula and spending the next weeks with crutches ?

Reeeeaaally ?

And then you know why Dick's behaviour is OOC ?

Dick spends the first half of New Teen Titans deciding he wants to be different from Batman in the way he acts, leads, deciding he wants to be comfortable with strong emotions after he embraces Starfire's way of seeing things, and being clear on the fact he never wants to be this emotionally closed off person who holds people at a distance not to get hurt, tries to get away from all emotion, and doesn't trust anyone. And he works hard not to do that, all the time.

Are there moments he gets depressed ? Sure. But even when he isolated himself and lashed out at Babs after the Joker's death, he still cared very much about people (his looking for Kesia after reading her letter happened around that time). And after Blockbuster and Tarantula, in War Games and after he was shown to care so much about Tim, and Steph's death. And like, don't you think it's weird that if Dick was depressed since he started being with the Outsiders, Alfred only saw it after Blockbuster and Tarantula ?

The entire point of Dick's character is that he cares, he works on being a better person and strives to have a life on his own, can have setbacks but they don't define him, he wants emotional connections, and his goal is to uphold his idealistic ideal of being a hero and he puts a lot of burden on himself to achieve it - if he doesn't he thinks he's failed and goes right to self-loathing for a while before pushing to get up, and he's a leader who takes his teammates into account.

Precisely zero elements of that are present in Outsiders. Zero. Dick is portrayed as unemotional and uncaring (except in regards to Roy), who's given up on working on himself, who is very much defined by his grief (oh, does it start to ring a bell ?), who pushes everyone away, who treats his teammates like soldiers, who becomes utterly pragmatic and is ready to use any means he deems necessary to achieve his goals. The same guy who was ready to sacrifice the planet to save Vic and who spends his time lecturing people on unecessary violence was written by Winick as someone ready to sacrifice dozens of lives and who justified the use of torture to a teammate, telling her that if she hadn't tried to save the other lives there wouldn't be any need to do this.

?????????

At what point does a character start being OOC ? You can't make a character lose most of his personality, keep his skills, and call it a day.

Thing is, Winick just wanted to write Batman Jr. Dick is not Batman Jr. The entire point of Dick's character is that he's not Batman Jr.

And Winick does not know how to write Dick Grayson. It turns out most panels or issues I hate regarding the man he calls Dick have been written by this guy.

Also don't get me started on how Jade replaces Dick as the leader of the Titans supposedly because he doesn't care enough/is too detached, yet the only remarkable action Jade undertakes after that is bringing Kory, one of her teammates's ex - which will have zero impact on the narrative, by the way, except for Kory and "Dick" sleeping together after "War Games" (still wtf). After that she immediately tells Grace they don't have time to care about the sex trafficking ring Grace was used by as a child because there are more important things they could be doing (!!), they understand there's a mole, Indigo dies and after the destruction of their headquarters Jade decides there should be no headquarters anymore and that they should have their meetings in parks like fifteen-year old squatters, and reminds everyone they're only colleagues.

Attempt at being a better leader : failed spectacularly.

So why does Dick being leader of the Titans 1999 work ? Well, simply because his life in Blüdhaven and Gotham was acknowledged. We see Dick running not to be late to the preccinct, or coming back for an emergency in his police uniform, or being taken up in Gotham and unable to help with the search for baby Lian. Simply put, it's not incompatible, thematically or logistically, with what was shown in his own run.

But I don't like the idea that Dick was an asshole in Titans 1999 ? Like, that's very unfair as far as I'm concerned (though to be fair I'm not faliliar with "Graduation Day", because I know who wrote it and after Outsiders I decided I had enough). First, I agree with OP that Dick was guilt-tripped (in a way that would've made me angry, really; why would you say that Dick's dependent on friends not to become an asshole ? Sure, like everyone else, Dick needs to have supportive people in his life, but that's not the same thing) into joining the Titans, when he'd said he had too much on his plate already. And putting more burden and responsabilities on Dick when they could've just hanged out together wasn't a great idea, either.

It's even more tragic that other teammates/friends (Gar and Kory, who to be fair weren't at the initial reunion) lashed out at Dick that he wasn't present enough. Worse for Kory to say it, though; Kory knows how much guilt Dick can feel all the time, plus she started lashing out at Dick when Dick wasn't the one who started a fight - like, sure, he wasn't happy she killed Adeline (complicated stuff), but he wasn't being mean either. At least in Gar's case, Dick was the one who started the fight.

There are also at least three instances of Dick being considered in the wrong that I thought were very unfair.

1) Dick and Vic's falling-out

The first has to do with Vic, when Dick explained to Vic he couldn't leave Titans Tower after what had happened when Vic'd turned into a toughtless killer machine, because he'd convinced the JLA not to bring Vic into custody and to leave him with the Titans instead.

Like, has everyone forgotten what happened ? Vic was creating earthquakes and floods, the JLA wanted to eliminate Vic, and Dick was the one who kept arguing with Bruce that Vic was a great man and that no sacrifice was ever acceptable (take that, Outsiders). Then he had a plan to bring back Dick and had the original Titans talk to him, and it was found that only the ship could be used to host Vic but that if the team chose to have Lilith do that they would probably not survive, since Lilith had come to get them in the first place. And without any hesitation Dick told Lilith to do it, because if she didn't all they'd done would be in vain.

And then Dick manages to make sure Vic isn't treated like a prisoner by the JLA, but can have time with his friends instead. How was Dick a bad friend at any point ?? He's not even the one who first mentioned Vic's name when they reformed the Titans, or the one who convinced Vic to rejoin.

Now I see people saying he should've talked to Vic about it. But frankly, was there any way Vic would've taken it well ? No, and we know it. He would've felt like a prisoner from day one. I'm not saying not talking about it was necessarily the best choice, but I'm saying it wasn't as easy and clear-cut a choice as some people make it out to be, and that considering everything Dick had done he deserved a lot more grace than he got. Truly throwing in Dick's face that the team he's responsible for was built for Dick so that he "wouldn't become like Batman" but implying he did anyway is one of the lowest blows you could throw at Dick.

And it certainly was not manipulative (the word's too strong). Dick didn't want Vic to react or behave a certain way. He wanted to protect Vic, wanted him to rebuild his life in a loving environment, while making sure everyone would be there if things went south (which...like...again Vic had created earthquakes and natural disasters ??).

It grinds my gears even more that Gar and people said that when you remember that in NTT, at Donna's wedding Gar had asked someone to create a special device to show "the true Victor Stone" without the cyborg part, without telling Vic, after Vic expressed he was afraid people would recognize him as one of the Titans and Gar said he'd found a solution, that it wouldn't be a problem. Personally I would've found that a lot more hurtful than what Dick did, but somehow Vic apologized to Gar ten minutes after lashing out at him, and told him he understood Gar only wanted the best for him and wanted Donna's wedding to run smoothly.

Well Vic was angry/moody at Dick for months. And all this time Dick worked tirelessly instead to provide Vic with a more human body, which is like...everything Vic ever wanted, after expressing multiple times he was very uncomfortable with his new body.

And yeah, okay, after Dick found out it could be done he could've explained the situation beforehand (yeah because mentioning it before he was sure would've been like getting Vic's hopes up and perhaps crushing them after). But it's such a minor detail compared to the effort and care Dick put into helping Vic all this time ??

But Vic lashed out again. And instead of being defensive Dick let it slide to let Vic vent and listen to him and reassure him that it was going to be okay.

I would seriously give half of my liver to get a friend like Dick. And saying Dick's manipulative is so freaking unfair. Dick can dupe criminals alright, but manipulating friends isn't something he's prone to do - the closest thing I can remember in NTT is Dick telling Gar not to go to Russia to help Vic the walking robot (they already had a team going) and telling him he needed him in the US instead, because he thought Gar was too unstable in regard to the situation (see the difference with Vic's situation ? There Dick said something to Gar to make him behave a certain way).

2) Dick not telling Jesse Quick his secret identity

For reasons unknown, this was framed as Dick not being trusting enough. And sure, there's a panel in a team-up between the Titans and the Outsiders in which Dick criticized Batman for not telling his team his secret identity. But the point was that no one in the Outsiders knew who Batman was. In Dick's case, most members of the Titans knew who he was.

When Terra came on the team in NTT, several members of the team including Wally didn't tell her their secret identities. The entire plot revolved around that; and Terra, much like Jesse later on, complained that she wasn't being trusted. It took months for the team/the members of the team who had secret identities to tell her their names. And like, okay, Terra had a bit of a strange story from the start; but she too was known by another hero (Geo-force).

The difference was that back in NTT, this was framed as a team issue; it was about Terra earning the team's trust and the others being comfortable enough to reveal their secrets to her. In titans 1999, it became solely Dick's problem, as if Dick was too secretive. Why was it acceptable for Dick to protect his identity in NTT but not in Titans ?

The point has always been that Dick's more secretive about his identity than others because it's not just his secret he'd be revealing. Back in NTT, he was worried about people knowing Bruce was Batman. In Titans, he was worried about that, and he was also worried about Tim.

3) Dick hiding an investigation he was doing

This was again presented as Dick hiding secrets and the others not liking it. And in some ways, I can get hiw Dick not telling the team about several things might make them feel that way. But you do have to consider the individual circumstances in which Dick did what he did.

In this case, he had suspicions a team member/guest wasn't saying the truth, which proved true later on (he was actually a kid possessing a body, and unfortunately the body belonged to a psychopath), and led an investigation.

But there was no good choice there. Either he raised his suspicions to the team and if he was wrong he'd be considered an asshole, either he waited until he had concrete evidence he was right and told them after (which is what he chose) - problem was he didn't have the opportunity to tell them until the occasion forced his hand

Generally people prefer the second option, but somehow it's only a problem when it's Dick doing it. In the same story arc, Argent had actually noticed "Epsilon" acting weirdly and conducted her own investigation without telling anyone anything (except Lilith because she wanted Lilith to probe "Epsilon"'s mind), yet you had Donna go on Dick's case about keeping secrets, while Dick reassured Argent (Toni) that her head had still been in the game when she blamed herself, and talked about Donna saying he should've said something when Toni said she should've warned him.

And Titans Tower got destroyed. And, right, okay, Dick was the one who started to lash out at Gar when Gar dismissed it as being funny (his joke was, anyway), telling Gar he never took anything seriously, bringing up a past decision he'd made in regard to the kids, and Dick doing that wasn't okay (and as usual, he hated himself afterward for doing that). But did Gar have to say Dick had let a maniac live with the Titans, implying it was his fault the tower was destroyed and he endangered everybody ? Of course, Dick got defensive too, and told him it was easy to judge when Gar was so far away. And then Gar told Dick people talked and he knew Dick wasn't present enough.

People say Dick's prone to self-blame and it's partly Bruce's fault, and they'd be right. But though his friends are great for him, they sometimes put waaaaayyyy too many expectations on Dick, too.

But I truly don't get it. You can't tell me Dick wasn't a great leader after what happened on the planet where everybody was addicted and basically mind controlled. Dick was dealing with Jess hating him, Argent thinking he didn't trust her because she'd taken drugs to enhance her powers (the same drugs fed off to human beings who were taken on the planet) and he'd asked her to do a drug test, Donna hanging up on him because Garth was hurting himself holding open a portal, Wally calling because he was worried, his own guilt in regard to the mission... And yet this man didn't lose his mind (I would've) analyzed Argent's drug test to see what it was about to protect her, managed to feed himself an antidote quickly, and saved everybody from killing Toni. And then he still had time to talk to Roy and check up on him twice while in the middle of a civil war, telling Roy he was still in control, still clean, and when Roy asked him angrily why Dick didn't give Roy the antidote to him (there was only one dose), Dick told him Roy would've killed him (he would've).

Half my liver, I'm telling you.

Hey, do you think everything about Outsiders vol 3 (Dick’s run as the leader) was completely in character? I personally see his asshole behaviour as extremely in character and wouldn’t expect anything else, but...not his leadership.

I think he would not take on any team, regardless of them being strangers, and that if he did he would be MORE careful and not less. (Mostly because he’s been a leader for a long time, great at compartmentalising and has always been stressed about being responsible for others lives and I don’t think those things would just disappear when people he cares for die). Like, he would still be a jerk and isolate himself but also plan ahead more and take the least risks possible (which would make him a worse leader than usual but not a downright bad one).

Idk just wondered how you see it.

Yeah, I actually view BOTH his time with the Outsiders and his time with the 1999 Titans lineup as being a case of like....characters configured into situations the editors and writers want them in, regardless of whether that makes sense for them at that particular point in time.

Tbh, I hate Dick being leader of both those lineups, and don't think he should have been on either team at those times, period. And I agree that his behavior in those periods made sense for all the shit he'd been through and was currently going on in his life, and like most importantly....

HE DIDN'T WANT TO BE THERE.

He repeatedly kept TELLING people he didn't want to be there, and that it wasn't a good time for him at EITHER point, and people who claim to know him best kept GUILTING and flat out manipulating him into being there, insisting they were doing so because it was for his own good, and they knew what he needed to snap him out of his funks, etc, etc....

EXCEPT THEN THEY KEPT GETTING MAD AT HIM FOR BEING MOODY AND AN ASSHOLE AND Y'KNOW.....NOT WANTING TO BE THERE.

Its like....hey guys, HE TOLD YOU. What did you expect? Its the same issue I have with the classic fight with Donna in NTT #19, where even if you leave aside the fact that he was brainwashed at the time, something that's always grinded my gears is how their fight takes place at Dick's apartment and before it escalates, Dick REPEATEDLY asks Donna to leave, and even tries to leave HIMSELF - from his OWN apartment - because he KNEW he wasn't in the right frame of mind to have the conversation or argument she wanted to have at that particular time.

And people NEVER listen to him! They never let him like have the definitive word on what HE needs, WHEN he needs it and what his needs look like.

And that bugs sooooo much, especially when coupled with how much flack he gets for being manipulative like Bruce or doing what he thinks is best without regard for what others are feeling or want.

Its like....if you're going to hold that against him, it needs to be acknowledged that people do this to him too, like ALL THE TIME. Including his closest friends like Donna, Wally and Roy.....with Wally being the one who pressured Dick to join back up with the Titans, after he'd literally been FORCED OUT of the group before the disbanding of the previous version, and like, still very much was not over all the deaths and injuries that had occurred during Titans Hunt, so reminiscent of previous disastrous events like Judas Contract and the Church of Blood......but Wally was CONVINCED that what Dick needed was to be back with the team again, back where he belonged, and he refused to listen when Dick repeatedly said he was under too much stress and pressure as is.

And like, Wally's intentions were good, but they have very different views of their times with the Titans because Wally has NEVER been in a position of leadership there! There's always been someone else to pass the buck off to when things go wrong, but there isn't that possibility with Dick! It stops with him, and he's always owned that.....which means like....joining back up with the Titans isn't a fun stress relief adventure time with old friends like Wally was picturing it as.....its stressful! Its life or death! Its the lives of his friends in DICK'S hands with nobody else to blame when shit goes south, as it always does.

And Dick KNOWS that, AND he knows his limitations, and so he tried to bow out gracefully from all that, but Wally kept pressuring him, made a big deal about only joining the team himself if Dick joined back up and acted like HE needed it for himself, and even though Dick CALLED him on this being bullshit and a blatant manipulation tactic, Dick still eventually joined up.....and just as he knew, Wally quit to focus on his family and the JLA within like ten issues, the second he was confident that Dick was at this point too INVESTED in the team to bail on it once Wally was gone.

And that's really shitty, tbh. And its not on Wally the character in the sense that they played it that way - the writers - because they wanted Dick back in the driver's seat of the Titans, but like.....the end result is still the end result, y'know? The takeaway is still that Dick was basically manipulated into taking up a job he no longer wanted, BECAUSE of how shit had blown up in his face with it before, and BECAUSE of how much else he had going on, and he KNEW it wasn't what he actually needed....but everyone else made it about what THEY decided he needed instead of listening to what he actually was saying and like....working with that instead.

Like, god bless the collective reasoning skills of Dick's friends and family who keep looking at everything the dude habitually keeps on his plate at his LOWEST settings, and thinks okay, what this guy really needs, I feel, is MORE responsibility.

Instead of like, trying to figure out how to help him take on LESS.

And then it all blew up in Dick's face exactly as he knew it would, and when more Titans died - Donna and Lilith this time - of fucking course Dick blamed himself for it, like literally anyone who knew him should have seen coming. But what were his friends and loved ones' reaction this time? What did they decide he needed?

The same thing they always do! More responsibility!

And again Dick tried to tell people this wasn't going to end the way they wanted it to - mostly Roy this time, as now it was Roy trying to get him to join up with the Outsiders using the specific pitch of them NOT being a family, like ENCOURAGING Dick to not get himself emotionally attached to the team so it didn't hurt as much if things went south with them -

Except again, this was blatant manipulation of the very same variety everyone gives Dick shit for, because in Roy's own words, the entire reason he did things this way was because he was convinced based on how well he knows Dick Grayson, that Dick wouldn't be CAPABLE of staying so unattached, and that he'd eventually invest in his new teammates despite his best efforts not to, and thus 'snap out of' his self-imposed isolation and like....form new connections via them.

But like....shockingly, it didn't play out that way? Dick deliberately tried to do exactly what he'd said he was going to do, KEEP himself from getting attached emotionally, with this being a very bad idea and absolutely something that led to teammates getting hurt, and yes that is on him and decisions he made out of an effort to focus on what HE needed rather than what was best for them - but like.....the problem I have here is like....this is precisely WHY Dick should NOT have been in a leadership position at this time, like you said!

And Dick was like the literal first person to make that argument?!??!

fahsklfhalfhalkfha

Roy was the one who pushed past it and said no I get it, and its okay, which HE shouldn't have done EITHER, not because Dick's choices were on Roy - they weren't, to be clear - but because Roy wasn't being straight forward about what his own intentions were. He wasn't ACTUALLY okay with Dick's approach to leadership of the Outsiders, he just didn't think it would ever actually get as far south as it went, because he was convinced it wasn't going to matter, because Dick was going to 'snap out of it' long before it became an actual problem. And THAT'S the part that's on Roy, because like....Dick TOLD him this wasn't a good idea, and WHY. And like, Dick literally just did exactly what he said he was gonna do, and that doesn't make it right, especially as a leader, but like......if people had actually listened to what he was SAYING rather than what they believed they KNEW about him and 'what he needed' then like.....they would have backed off and validated his concerns that he wasn't a good fit for a team right now and found some OTHER way to help him, rather than like...try and force it on their terms.

And so that's the part that bugs. Like, I don't think Dick's behavior during a lot of the team stuff of that period - even if it wasn't pretty - was like, out of character or even unreasonable - he was fucked up! He KNEW he was fucked up! He kept TELLING people, like hey guys, just FYI, I'm kinda fucked up at the moment.

But nobody would just....accept that. He's never allowed to just be HUMAN. Its the same thing with Dick as Batman and everything during Red Robin, like....other characters are so ready to jump on him for not being perfect the second he starts fucking shit up because he's reeling from stuff that hits EVERYONE hard, and him even more than most specifically BECAUSE of how much responsibility he normally shoulders (as well as how much blame others usually heap on him).....we barely ever see other characters being like okay, what do YOU need, how can we HELP.....

Instead of just....impatiently waiting for you to 'get back to normal' and be the Golden Boy we all both resent you for being while simultaneously EXPECTING you to be at all times, no matter what.

So no, I don't view his behavior with the Outsiders as OOC unfortunately, but I just think like....it would have been so different if he'd just been allowed to grieve in his own way at that time instead of being pushed and guilted and manipulated into getting back in the saddle right away or what the fuck ever, lol. Even his leadership fuck-ups at the time weren't out of character so much as they were proof that he SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN LEADING ANYONE at that time....

The trick of it is just like....he was 100% of that same opinion himself! Its just the writers wanted him as a leader anyway, and the characters were shoved into positions more about getting him to lead than getting him support.

[incorrectmahabharatquotes]

This is not as coherent as my usual posts and I'm sorry about that in advance. This is tangentially related to our last post about women in Mahabharat. I saw this post by @nushkiespeaks. I have a lot of thoughts about it but what matters the most in the context of our previous post is that I do not like the use of the phrase "her dharma saves her" in this scenario. I will explain.

TW: violence against women, sexual assault. Please proceed with caution.

(I want to clarify that this is not meant as a call out post or anything. These are just my thoughts about what some feminist analysis of the epic lack sometimes. You can feel free to agree or disagree with me but please be kind and respectful about it and not call people names or harass anyone.)

I love Draupadi as a character so I say the following with all the love in my heart for her:

People usually either praise Draupadi for being a perfect victim. Or denigrate her for not being one. To them, she's either the pure hearted goddess who believed in her personal god and fulfilled her dharma of being a perfect wife. Or she's the cunning woman who didn't perform her dharma properly and deserved what she got.

What gets left behind is that the fact no one should have to go through any of that regardless of whether you believe they performed their dharma correctly. What also gets left behind are: all the other women mentioned in the scene, if only in passing. The slaves.

If you're strictly talking about the BORI CE version of the story(as the post clearly is), while reading it, it's almost impossible to miss the repeated mentions of the normalised and legally sanctioned sexual abuse/harrassment and rape of slaves. (Side note: Yes, slavery was a thing back then. It's horrible. People just don't like to acknowledge the instances in the Mahabharat where slavery is mentioned because it's just not a good look for sacred books to be chill with and actively encouraging buying and selling of actual people like objects. Trust me, if you have a favourite character in the epic, they were probably involved in the practice of slavery somehow, even Krishna, I'm very sorry to tell you this.)

To me, it's odious to mention dharma whenever we talk about Draupadi's vastraharan because it leads the obvious conclusion that those other women mentioned in text suffer at the hands of their "masters", in part because maybe they weren't performing their dharma correctly.

Maybe that's not what people mean when they praise Draupadi for her dharmic perfection. But every time those people, I cannot help but think of those women. The ones that are forgotten.

The ones who were not allowed to save themselves.

I guess, I'm ultimately just trying to say that this post is just my humble request to people to not talk about topics such as sexual assault in terms of the moral character of the victim. The people may mean well, but it does unfortunately perpetuate the idea of a perfect victim.

-Mod S

[slightlyunconventional]

hi! i received an ask about making a snz prompts list, and it seemed like a cool idea so im gonna do it !!

slightlyunconventional’s prompt list debut 🪻

(these won’t have any particular theme or anything, just some nice prompts/scenarios that i myself enjoy writing so you might too :3 feel free to use these and i would love to see if anyone writes anything)

☀️ a character waking up to the sun streaming in through their window and having a photic reaction

❓ a character finding out for the first time that they’re allergic to something (their first time encountering a certain animal/flower etc)

🥂 character(s) going to a formal event and everywhere they turn there are people with expensive and strong perfumes on - one or both of the characters being sensitive to it

🔊 a character with typically soft/subdued sneezes catching a cold that turns their sneezes massively more harsh and uncontrollable

🧴 strongly scented beauty/bath products causing a character to sneeze - do they realise right away what’s triggering it, or does it take a while (or perhaps a tip from someone else)?

🫧 a character running a bath for their sick partner, then sitting beside the tub keeping them company whilst they soak - a cold bath for a high fever, or a hot bath for the chills

🌙 a character waking in the middle of the night to find the other side of the bed empty, then finding their partner having a sneezing fit in a different room having left to avoid waking the other one up

❤️‍🩹 a character encouraging their sick partner to stop stifling all their sneezes (maybe it makes them sneeze even more, maybe it worsens the pressure in their sinuses, maybe it amplifies the headache they already have)

☕️ the steam from a mug of hot tea teasing sneezes from a sick character

🔥 a character realising their partner has a fever by feeling the heat of their skin by accident - holding their face to kiss them, feeling their skin when they cuddle in bed, etc

🕰️ a character having to hold back/stifle all day (their job? anxiety/insecurity of sneezing around people? not wanting to spread their cold if they have one? your choice!) and finally getting to let loose once they’re home, sneezes tearing through them unrestrained

💫 a character with the kink inducing their partner, instructing them to hold back for as long as possible (my favourite scenario to read/write. can you tell)

💐 a character with awful hayfever going to a florist’s shop to buy flowers for their partner

🏖️ a character coming down with a cold in the middle of summer - they can’t appreciate the warm weather because they’re wracked with chills

⛓️‍💥 a character with a cold turning down all help/care they are offered, under the pretence that they’re fine on their own, until the end of the day when they end up collapsing (metaphorically or physically)

🩹 a character sneezing for whatever reason whilst they are injured (so much potential here - a broken/bloody nose that they can’t even touch to quell the itch, broken ribs that clench with a spike of pain at each outburst, an injured arm that hurts to cover or stifle with… endless possibilities)

🦋 a nonhuman/semi-human character not being used to sneezing finds they’ve come down with a cold, or developed an allergy

🍷 alcohol making a character sneeze, but they keep drinking, and as they get tipsier, their sneezes become more indulgent and unrestrained

💤 a character about to fall asleep, or who had just woken up, and their drowsiness finds its way into their sneezes

🕯️a character in the candle/perfume/etc section of a store, sniffing each one whilst their partner (who insisted on coming along) sneezes helplessly beside them, assuring them it isn’t the candles/perfume/etc when it most certainly is

i’ve never done a post like this before, so i hope these were okay! if anyone uses any of these i would love to read what you write, too! i also added a different emoji for each one incase anyone wanted to use it as an ask game

[spacebabesuki]

I can’t believe that right now, at this very moment, I'm choosing an outfit for the author photo of my book. MY BOOK, omg...It all feels so surreal, I still can’t wrap my head around it. After 11 years of writing for strangers online—people who meant the world to me—I never thought I’d actually be capable of something like this. I wish my 12-year-old self, alone, with a face full of pimples, always looking for comfort in books and writing her little fanfics on a notes app, could know that one day we’d be able to pull this whole dream off.

I don’t even care if it’s not a success, if it doesn’t sell, or if only my dad buys it; I’m just so happy because it’s happening—it’s starting to happen, and I never thought it would. Even if it takes another 10 years, just being able to call myself a writer will be enough.

Only I know how many times I made vision boards while studying for a completely different career, convinced this dream wasn’t possible. How many days have I cried at work, watching my ideas get taken by older men? And that’s why I finally decided to stop crying and go after this for real. We never know what’s going to happen, and I’m terrified, but at the same time, I know this is just the start of something that could really surprise me.

I can’t believe I’ve already received the draft of the cover. This is all insane, and maybe—just maybe—I’m not as terrible a writer as I always thought. Crying right now, and as the overly emotional little girl I’ve always been, I know this is only the first of many happy tears.

This may sound silly, but dream on. Dream until your dreams come true 🤎༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:・ ☕🍂🧸 🍂☕️🍁 🤎🍂

This book couldn’t possibly be more me—it has all the things I love most (hellcheer vibes too, of course), and I’m so excited for people to read it. I just hope that the opening paragraph about the 2008 New York Stock Market crash doesn’t scare anyone away from diving into the wild ride these 700 pages are going to be, lol. <3

And maybe—just maybe—if I can find enough interested readers, we might even have an English version on Amazon down the line. <3 That’s why I’m working on building a community here too, sharing my writing more often and putting myself out there.

I put together a little mood board because I’m so excited for life and the coming months; I can’t wait for the fall of 2025 here in Brazil!!!

[utilitycaster]

anyway this is obviously a wild shift in the topic of conversation, but I was talking about it in the group chat last night as a distraction and would like to continue the distraction if I am being honest, so, with the caveat that this is based off of Fandom Osmosis Observations and a few reads of reviews and I have at this time played neither of these games, some thoughts about BG3 vs. Veilguard and what I've seen. many thanks to @captainofthetidesbreath for actually knowing things about video games and answering my many questions.

also just putting this up front with all said caveats: if you disagree that is great, I am very open that this is an outside observation and I could be very wrong but I am going to block people who get hostile without warning, and make this nonrebloggable if too many people get hostile. You are always permitted to disagree but like, I don't really care about your opinion if you're not someone with whom I have a pre-existing rapport unless idk you're like, actually a BG3 or Veilguard official story writer who happens to be on Tumblr. If you're a player? You have all of your own biases and they are not mine. Save it for someone who wants to get in a fight about this; I am not that person.

Essentially, what I've seen in terms of criticism from Veilguard that isn't just rampant transphobia comes down to the following:

why am I not playing my previous character from Inquisition again

why am I limited to a fairly consistent through line for the story

But first, I'm going to talk about BG3. What's funny is I seem like a much more obvious candidate for playing BG3, as a longtime D&D player who has come around on Forgotten Realms as a setting. However, while I looked at it for a while, I eventually lost interest for a couple of reasons. One is that apparently all the characters are WAY too eager to romance you which is like, a fun fantasy for 10 minutes but would probably annoy me in the long run. Another is that everyone who watched early reviews and kept abreast with the game told me that there was a clear favorite companion (Astarion) and that many of the characters had most of their interesting flaws sanded down (eg: Wyll was apparently much cockier originally; Shadowheart even more petulant; and as these are perhaps the two characters I was most intrigued by, reducing them to something blander destroyed much of the appeal). But perhaps the most interesting one is that as a boring goodie two shoes sort of person, my thought back when I was like "yeah, perhaps I will play this" was "oh, I do not want to have a murderous urge within me."

It became very apparent, through watching people play through and post on my dash, that if you didn't specifically play as the Dark Urge, and didn't specifically resist that urge, the story didn't really cohere. I have to admit, I know the premise of BG3 very well (tadpoles), and I know a lot of shipping trends (put a pin in that), and I know some of the more obvious points within it (Astarion is a vampire, Gale and Karlach both have bombs in their chests somehow, Shadowheart bleaches her hair) but I don't really have a great sense of the ending, and I did not avoid spoilers.

It feels like BG3 is designed for people who have one of those massive spreadsheets of D&D characters they haven't had a chance to play that are meticulously kept and thoroughly realized...and don't really leave room for modifying to fit the campaign you will actually be playing in. It feels like an OC sandbox simulator unless you do actually pick the choice the writers actually wrote for (Durge), and while it's not technically playersexual...it kinda is. I mean, I am a big fan of the trend in video games towards making it possible to romance anyone because it conjures up the idea of a world of high-powered bisexuals running around, which is very enjoyable for me, but the criticism of the Mary Sue archetype originally was never "how dare you fantasize about being cool." It was "wow, the characterizations are all warped beyond recognition solely so that everyone is in love with this character, and that makes for a dull and unsatisfying story." If you're everyone's type, and it's for romance and not just sheer lust, then either everyone around you is boring and wants the same thing, or you are sort of bland and inoffensive, or else the story is bashing characters together without a good basis for a compelling romance. This is also compounded by the fact that the companions can't get together with each other if you're playing your own character and not an Origins character.

None of this is to say it's bad to like BG3 and again, I didn't play it; but it is why I ultimately said "you know, given the effort involved to play it for me, a person without a gaming system, it's not worth it."

Veilguard has specifically intrigued me for going against a lot of this. You have a lot of choices in your character build, but they're all fairly thematically consistent: you did something within your faction that was well-intentioned but upset higher-ups and so you need to step away for a while. This establishes a personality for you! We know why you're part of a faction but also something of a free agent at the moment. We know why you're here and why you might be a good candidate for the current mission.

I'm not going to go into detail for the choices because while I'm not avoiding spoilers I don't want to spoil a relatively new game for others, but a lot of choices are fairly parallel, not in an "illusion of choice" way - they have consequences - but in terms of hitting similar themes. You can only save one city and both are places you have seen and places your companions have connections to; while the exact details may differ you are telling a consistent story.

I also think the fact that the companions can romance each other in your absence is important too! They exist even when you're not there. They are not just here to woo you, and indeed, they might be a better match for each other. I've been informed this is true in Inquisition as well, and I think it's a much more rich world if you, as the player, as the person who can ultimately decide the fates of your companions, aren't the center of their personal life. I also think it prevents the ability to sand down companions to be more agreeable to you as a player if you have to make an NPC/NPC romance compelling (and I will freely admit that, in a move that is not at all like me, I was pretty well sold by a potential in-game NPC/NPC romance, which is usually not the thing that gets me into works of fiction).

I'm not the right person to speak to the Inquisitor not being a significant character because I did not play DA:I, and I get that 'well, this is a new game with a new protagonist, as there has been for every Dragon Age game' is still not necessarily an adequate explanation. Nor is "hey, maybe it's good to attract new players" even though as someone who is highly attracted as a new player that is my opinion. However, I want to go back to the point about Resist Durge being the strongest option in BG3 in terms of story by a long shot. When I was trying to learn more, I said "ok, so just like how you're Tav in BG3 and Rook in Veilguard, you're Lavellan in Inquisition, right?" and was told that you are not - that's just the elvish Inquisitor option. Obviously this is anecdotal, but the fact that one option was far and away the most popular and thematically resonant is an indication that perhaps bringing forth the Inquisitor is carrying over some of the limitations of that game, whatever they may be. The true argument is "they are trying to tell a specific story here, and it is about a different POV than the one you previously had."

And that's really my point. I know I'm not an expert here - in fact I'm usually quite hesitant to write meta about things in which I'm not highly steeped, and very critical of those people who do - but I think an outsider perspective is useful here. The thing that is drawing me to video games is a new way to experience a fictional narrative (the other game I have been meaning to play - and even own on Steam- is Disco Elysium). That's not what everyone wants! But it is what I want. And so I want to be put into a developed, thoughtful narrative, and I don't mind if my choices are restricted in order to support it, and if I am playing a person I did not entirely choose. In tech, there is a saying of "make it easy to make the right choice (and hard to make the wrong one)" and so if you need your protagonist to hit certain beats, you should make that the required protagonist.

I think a story is stronger if your choices matter but if there is something of a foregone conclusion because it gives the writers thematic throughlines. This might sound a little silly given that this blog is largely dedicated to Actual Play but the thing is, most actual play does have, if not a foregone conclusion, at least a strongly intended conclusion of "work towards uncovering this mystery and achieving this goal", though the success of said goal is not guaranteed. I would argue that when a campaign lacks that, it tends to suffer in all aspects. RPG video games almost always have a foregone conclusion, but that's its own liability. In actual play, lacking a forgone conclusion means you spin off in any direction and it's anyone's guess if it's coherent. In an RPG, having this conclusion but not supporting it through the rest of the game will make it feel contrived. I feel a lot of Veilguard criticism is focusing on small contrivances early on that really mostly matter to a highly specific subset of potential players that prevent much larger and less forgiveable contrivances later on.

Anyway. Again, I am an outsider here, and I'm not here to say that it's bad to have a more open-world, sandboxy game with a self-insert-y OC type; but I have to be honest, I'd rather explore that in a true sandbox of fanfiction or original fiction, which is significantly cheaper and in which I can actually tell the entire story I want to tell. I don't want to be given more choices if a lot of them will be profoundly unsatisfying as a narrative. I don't want to cut through the world like a hot knife through butter. I want to be affected by it, and that's very hard to do with a character whose only trait is "self-insert whom everyone wants to fuck" or "guy that already carries the baggage of years of personal headcanons and highly variable choices that are hard to account for for every single person who ever played the previous game."