#and how despite all the shit they're put through they still come out

[befuddled-calico-whump]

This is a genuine question: I know you enjoy lady whump as you have some characters that are female and are whumpees. I enjoy it too, sorta. Truth is that I feel guilty.

I know it’s kinda problematic to see lady whump as taboo and immoral but I can’t help but feel like it’s wrong, I come from a country that HATES women (shocker all countries hate women but I mean mine has a huge femicide problem) and I know how stupid I sound “I can’t feel but it’s wrong” like duh it’s whump! But I honestly don’t know how to get over those feelings, it hits too close home.

My question here is did you ever got those feelings of guilt and if you did, how did you get over those?

It's understandable to feel guilty at times, especially when creating or enjoying dark content (and especially if it's something that hits close to home)

Initially, I had some reservations about lady whump, since in mainstream media, violence against women tends to be a sensationalized thing that exists for shock value or to motivate the male lead in some way

(it's worth noting that the media has a history of doing this to trans, gay, and otherwise queer characters and non-white characters as well)

Initially I was squicked out by the idea of lady whump because I was so used to seeing it through that lens (not to mention, as you've said, the real-life examples)

However, I've seen again and again that whump as a genre tends to handle that material well (with all genders, not just females). Instead of the shock value, whump focuses a lot on the emotions, how the harm affects the character being harmed, and more often than not gives that character a fulfilling recovery arc

Personally, that's what shifted my opinion on it

Even then, if it's something you're uncomfortable with, you're not at fault for avoiding or disliking it. It all comes down to personal preference, and whether you'd like to explore it more or just stay away, it's your choice, and you shouldn't need to explain yourself (/gen)

[avallands-basement]

look i love making sae be the one who's so in love and showering hajun with so much love and affection but it's much more fun to think that HE fell harder than her

[viennacherries]

okay hi sorry i need to talk about the lucanis romance for a moment and why i think it's absolutely perfect. spoilers below the cut ofc

so obviously there are a limited number of romance scenes. i really do believe in the case of lucanis' romance this lends itself to telling his story.

we learn through party banter with him and emmerich that his relationship with rook is his first. and that's not suprising really, he's an assassin. he faces death constantly and aside from the fact that he could die at any moment, being in a relationship gives his enemies a weak spot to exploit. love and the weakness required to accept and give it is a risk he cannot afford in his line of work.

then you add on the fact that he's been in the ossuary for a year. he was definitely sure he was never getting out of there. and then he does but he's possessed.

so here's rook. and they're flirting with him and being all enticing and he thinks they're great. but he doesn't deserve love and he certainly can't risk it. he's an abomination, he'll put them in danger. and what happens afterwards? when he goes back to taking contracts? it only takes pissing off the wrong person once for rook to be in danger. so he mostly just talks around it. tried not to think about it or aknowledge it.

and then spite breaks through for the second time. and there's rook. again. and they're soft and understanding and kind and they remind him that under everything else, all of the trauma and the fear, he's human. they make him feel so safe and he starts to let his walls down.

we can't know for sure why he pulls away in that moment, but i think it's because he reminds himself how dangerous it is for him and for rook. he wants them terribly but it's such an awful no good idea so he drags himself away.

but he still cares for them. he makes them dessert and he keeps them safe and eventually he has to admit to himself that they're not just friends anymore.

and then rook is taken into the fade by solas.

he never tells rook, you only find this out in a bellara romance, but rook is in the fade for weeks.

all that time, lucanis is there and he's just full of regret. because holy shit he's fallen in love with them and now they're gone and he should've just told them. he should've held them like he wanted. because now he can't and he never will again.

and then they're back.

and he comes into their room and his words are so simple.

"i never thought id see you again. i thought id lost you"

and obviously the rest of his dialogue can vary in this scene but all of it is SO weighted if you consider the fact that he really did think they were dead.

"i do. i know how to feel."

"it's one of the things i love about you"

"i'm not going anywhere."

he is in LOVE with them and he's tired of fighting it. he's tired of pretending he isn't. he's tired of denying himself of what he wants because he's scared. because ultimately he did lose them, despite how careful he'd been, and it hurt just the same.

"i know how to feel." because he DOES now.

so in the last battle, before you fight elgernan, he tells you again just how much he loves you. how he'll do anything he needs to to be back in your arms when it's over. because those weeks without you were torture and he never wants to do that again. he wasted all that time terrified to hurt you but you got hurt anyway. why keep pretending? why keep denying himself the person he wants more than anything in the world? he goes from 0-100 because this is so much more real now. there's so much to lose.

"i've assumed you knew my heart because it beats for you. it's been beating... when i wanted you. when i was afraid to want you... tell me this ends with me asleep in your arms and i will kill any god you ask."

this one sentence conveys EVERYTHING. all of his longing throughout the game. how long he has loved rook. he didn't say it because he was afraid. but he's not afraid anymore.

so much of lucanis' romance is about subtext. it's about the things he doesn't say rather than the things he does.

i think it's absolutely beautiful.

[gaywineauntsstuff]

I love the idea of Dick being all the Batkid's favourite sibling but in violently different fonts.

Jason: Dick and Jay canonically have a pretty solid relationship but i'm partial to the Jason was around for Dick's rebellion stage and so Dick doesn't think he has to worry about the pedestal thing bc Jason has absolutely seen him violently hungover before he was legally allowed to drink font of this

So by the time Jason comes back and is no longer trying to murder Tim (except psychologically) Dick decides... Well he's evil sometimes but also I can finally tell someone all the Titans drama. So him and Jason meet up like once month if they're in the same city and get progressively drunker while shit talking their teams and Bruce.

Also I hate the Dick and Robin!Jason didn't get along. They absolutely did, Dick was like 0.5 seconds away from taking Jason to live with the titans permanently.

Tim: 'Oh Jason is Tims Robin, Oh Dick betrayed Tims trust.' in the name of the orange dude y'all elected twice W R O N G. Tim Drake used to watch VHS tapes of the flying Graysons routine. He wasn't even a batman Stan first. That came after he saw Robin do a quadruple summersault. Tim is a Dick Grayson fanboy first Person second. Like Tim canonically saw Jason die and went lmao skill issue, imagine not being like Dick Grayson i'm better. When Dick first started training him, he'd consistently excuse himself go to the other room, hyperventilate over Dick Grayson teaching him how to train surf. Dick is not just his idol he's also a pretty substantial part of Tim's support system. He calls Dick when he's going through something or is stuck on a case. And he knows that Dick will always have his back. They have like the unrealistic adorable sibling relationships from Tv that don't exist irl. Tim also does that awkward shuffle thing after fights bc they're still siblings and Dick just pretends the fight didn't happen until Tims calm again

Damian: You have to understand Damian thought he'd have to basically do the league all over again. He lands with Bruce and those ideas are soundly rejected and he now has no trust or respect and he has to adjust. And Bruce is doing his holier than thou, you should know better 10yro who literally was brainwashed as a child act, like Tim didn't have to pull him away from straight up becoming a villain and Dick didn't have to put him in his place with his fists a couple times a year (we love Bruce really). Then Bruce gets Time-streamed, Tim runs away and now the circus freak is BATMAN. Except the circus freak is also a sadistic bastard to criminals, despite being made out of marshmallows to you. Dick hangs people upside down off high buildings for information and cackles as Nightwing. He also listens to Damians worries and helps him deconstruct his bias view of the world. Dick canonically set the standard for child heroes and is among one of the most beloved and trusted heroes despite being marshmallowy and refusing to murder people. Dick is kinda like Damians stand in non pretentious moral compass until he learns his own one later on. Hence why Damian adores Dick Grayson more than anyone really.

in summary support my agenda that Dick and Jason are gossipy drinking buddies, Tim absolutely had a Dick Grayson Shrine as a child and Damian calls Dick to double check that he still cannot kill Timothy (its now entirely a joke.... mostly)

[alchemistc]

Part One

They don't tell anyone. Not about the marriage certificate, at least. Buck comes back from his conference with a new-old boyfriend and money exchanges hands despite protest from the losers that Bobby had inside knowledge.

(He did not.)

They put the rings away. They talk a bunch of shit out that they'd only skimmed the surface of on the patio of that dingy bar.

Buck buys him that beer.

Finally.

Things are - things aren't easy. Buck skips ahead in his own mind and desperately backpedals before Tommy notices (he hopes). Tommy continues to be tight lipped about things, goes with the flow more often than he should and absolutely hates being called out about it.

Eddie is slow to readjust to having Tommy back in their lives.

With Chris back, he swears up and down he believes Buck that they're both serious about this, but he invites Tommy over less, doesn't involve him in Chris's life as often. Buck tries desperately not to let Eddie's hesitancy inform any of the feelings bubbling in his chest, any of the half-formed futures in his head.

Bobby calls Tommy and they go out for coffee and Tommy spends a week pretending to be so fucking fine about whatever they talked about that Buck starts baking again.

Tommy's abs get a little less defined.

Buck takes him to a gay bar, because they never did that before, never explored anything that wasn't just the two of them, never talked about the community or the history or the impact of being queer. The first time someone approaches their spot at the corner of the bar, Tommy seems to be trying incredibly hard not to read into any of the reactions Buck is having, and failing miserably.

But the thing is. The thing is Buck did this on his own. Petty, unhappy, Tommy's words swirling in his head, he's tried a few dozen times to find another person remotely as appealing as the one at his side, and they'd all fallen short.

When the guy asks Buck if he wants to dance Buck blurts out words before he can think about it that he's absolutely certain are gonna send Tommy spiraling. "Appreciate the offer, but I'm here with my husband. We're celebrating."

The guy blinks. He's young. Younger than Buck, slim and attractive, dark brown eyes and light brown skin that glows golden even in the crappy bar lighting. His gaze darts almost eagerly between them, like he's seeing something he hadn't expected. Something hopeful blooms in his gaze, and Buck - oh.

Buck gets it.

That's a lot of weight to carry just for existing in the world and trying to snatch some happiness from it.

Buck smooths a hand over Tommy's knee and smiles at him, something soft and settled that has been harder to find this time around but still curls up against his spine like it belongs there.

The kid buys them a round and leaves.

"What are we celebrating?" Tommy asks, and Buck pretends not to notice the way his thumb is rubbing over the bare patch of skin where Buck had slid a ring, a few months ago. He's not freaking.

"Whatever we want," Buck says with a shrug, and doesn't mention that neither one of them have brought up the marriage certificate tucked away in Tommy's safe since they got back from Vegas.

---

"The Abby thing is still weird," Buck says, breath heaving as Tommy rearranges Buck's legs and tucks himself into Buck's side. They'd spent an evening talking candidly about their exes because Buck can't understand how they went six months without realizing.

Tommy's hands shift through the hair Buck stopped shaving the first time Tommy admitted he preferred it to the baby smooth skin Buck had tried desperately to maintain for the first four months. It's just now feeling normal, after so many years of keeping it smooth.

"I think she'd freak more than you did."

"I managed to implode a six month relationship with my freak, Tommy."

Tommy chuffs a laugh. Slides his calf up and down Buck's lower leg, and despite the fact that Buck has a few more notches in his belt that'd had that same scritch of hair against his, Buck relishes the feel just because it's Tommy.

"You had help." He pauses, though, tips his chin and tucks it against the give of Buck's shoulder. "I'm not implying her reaction was particularly homophobic, but - I think that was the worst part, for her. The fact that I hadn't just lied about how I felt. It was - she assumed I couldn't feel it."

Buck can't help the brow raise. "Tommy, you're a Kinsey six."

"I still loved her."

He's been working his way through romantic vs sexual vs platonic and learning a whole hell of a lot in the process. He gets Tommy's point. He's thrilled that Tommy is still in a sharing mood. It's just -

Tommy shifts, noses into Buck's underarm. Breathes deep, and Buck has to fight the urge to shove him away.

"If I'm totally off base here tell me, but I think you loved her like I love Eddie."

Tommy narrows his eyes. Contemplates. "Tell me again how jealous of his hair you were when you met," he decides on, and shrieks when Buck digs a finger into his ribs in retaliation.

---

They fight, and it's thrilling.

They never did that before. Minced their words and apologized and let it all drop away but never actually let it go, and when Tommy gets on a roll he's bitchy as hell. It drives Buck insane. He wants to wring his fucking neck. He wants to take him to the mat and actually learn enough about Muay Thai to stand a chance lasting two minutes. He wants to throw him against a wall and jack him off until he sees stars.

"He wouldn't do the same for me, Evan, so why should I bother?!"

Tommy's dad is dying. According to Tommy, it's days or weeks, not months or years, and Tommy had said it so emotionless that Buck had jokingly tried to check him for panels and plugs and wiring. Tommy hadn't appreciated the robot joke.

"Screw your dad, Tommy! Do it for yourself."

"I'm not like you, Evan! That bridge burned a decade ago. I don't need - ." He pinches the bridge of his nose. Grimaces and sucks in a breath. Usually that means he's yanking back words he knows he'll regret. Rearranging them in his mind until they're less likely to sting. "I don't want a death bed reconciliation any more than I want to be proven right about him."

Buck takes two weeks off to help Tommy plan the funeral.

Tommy tosses the contents of the urn into the ocean two weeks later, and when Buck asks about it, Tommy gives him a shifty look, like he thinks the answer might send Buck running. "He hated the ocean."

It's the last time they talk about his dad, for a while.

[transformers-spike]

"Cybertronians reacting to getting kissed", in which kissing is not something cybertronians do as an act of affection, so they're completely new to the human concept of kissing to express romantic love. Talk me one Knock Out who is so versed in wooing but doesn't know two shits about human kissing, and finding himself kissed for the first time. Or Starscream who's gonna freak out. Or Megatron who doesn't even know why you're smashing your intake against his

This is such a good question, anon, I've been rotating it in my head for a while now

Knock Out is well-versed in the drag and frag technique. He’s probably one of the youngest members on the Nemesis, still old as balls by our standards, but some rebellious youngin’ by theirs. He’s all about sliding in with a smooth pickup line and buttering you up until he reaches the “let’s get down to business” level, where he starts flashing his biolights in a “come hither and frag me” display. When it comes to human kissing, he’s… improvising to say the least. He’s seen humans make out in a wide variety of drive-through horror movies (many with questionable acting), and while he doesn’t “get” why we do it, he does his best to lean into the act and find what makes it so pleasurable by our standards. When you do kiss him for the first time, he’s already been hyping himself up for months, and whatever smoothness he tries to apply immediately disintegrates because oh fuck, your lips are so small and he has so much to give. He’s absolutely suffering despite the confident front he’s putting up. After fumbling the bag, he’ll ask you how he did. “Mid,” you’re tempted to say. But the hopefulness behind those smug optics stops you in your tracks. Starscream must have had a very confusing interface life even by Cybertronian standards. But there’s no way he didn’t get frisky back when he was Air Commander of Vos, even if the workload was immense. Although that’s probably the most action he got in his entire life, and even then the closest equivalent to “kissing” by their standards is merging EM fields and hoping for the best, a careful manipulation of wavelengths to fall into perfect sync. We humans do not possess a hyper-developed EM field, which is enraging for Starscream because what do you mean you smash intakes??? Mass-displaced or not, the only fluids he accepts in his intake are energon and transfluid, thank you very much. Kissing is a bad idea, and you’ve learned it the hard way, so good job! Now you have to deal with his drama queen ass acting like you just spit in his mouth. Worst thing is, he is interested in trying it again, but with his stipulations (aka watching him fail to figure out how to kiss you). He doesn’t even fail in a funny way, he’s so bad it’s concerning, you’re half tempted to contact Knock Out and blackmail him into sending you Starscream’s medical file.

Megatron was… surprisingly abstinent back on Cybertron. Yes, he’s been around for a long time. Yes, he used to be a gladiator at some point. And yes, it had its perks, but he was always more of a “sensitive spark” than a typical casanova. He had more important things to focus on at the time (mainly surviving the pits of Kaon and, before that, not offlining in a freak mining accident). Honestly, who knows what he did as a politician, whatever freakiness he had going on while trying to depose the government is none of our business and I am totally not typing this with a fusion cannon to my head.

He’s been through so much; fought countless beasts and fellow gladiators, avoided assassination attempts and blood-thirsty mutinies while leading a millennia-long war. Nothing can surprise him anymore. Yes, you’re a weird little freak for smashing intakes with him, but you need not fear for your safety. He’s… intrigued by your display of affection. You can mumble excuses all you want, but you’ve smashed intakes with him and it can’t be undone. Watch out for those sharp teeth and prepare a tetanus shot just in case. You have to deal with the consequences of your actions whether you like it or not, especially when he’s got a claw under your shirt and another down your pants. Your lips are bleeding and you pray it’s an accident, if he gets a taste for human blood you’re done for.

[miasmaghoul]

WAHHHH AEON CONVINCING EVERYONE THEYRE HIS FIRST. thinkijg thoughts about omega and aether breaking him in and then hes all virgin to whoevers next and after they go to aether like “why did u not fuck the new guy??” and aethers like i did?? and it all comes out but they keep it a secret to see how long/how many ghouls/papas aeon can get with his bit

I think Aether is his first, and he's enough of a gentleman not to let anyone know. Not his information to share - well except for one night when he replays it all for Dew in excruciating detail, but that's easily taken care of with a little quintosis. No harm done.

Swiss is Aeon's second, though, and he's been enough of an actual first to be able to see right through Aeon's coy smiles and the way he bats his lashes. It's easy enough to figure out who was:

"Can't believe I haven't gotten my hands on you yet."

Swiss murmurs it into his throat, both hands shoved into Aeon's hastily undone jeans. One tugging at his semi and the other curled around his bony hip, Swiss' rough fingers petting at his hole. Aeon's gasping already, still half-tangled in the hoodie he was removing when Swiss shoved him onto one of the hotel beds. This is what he gets for spending all evening - hells, all day, really - being a flirty little shit, he supposes. He licks his lips and swallows hard, putting on his best innocent face; wide, damp puppy eyes, pouty lips, the whole nine yards. Swiss stares down at him like a wolf who's pinned a deer, smile sharp even without his fangs, and Aeon's heart skips in his chest. He knew Swiss would be rough, but this is a thrill.

"Surprised Aether didn't get you first," Swiss rumbles with a twist of his wrist, and Aeon gives himself away when his eyes glaze over.

Swiss isn't even sure if the other ghoul knows he does this, or if the others have caught it, but when Aeon really remembers something he sort of...disappears for a second. Just for a heartbeat, very easy to miss if you aren't looking for it, but Swiss has spent more than enough time with the new kid to pick up on it. It's like he's reliving the moment he's been reminded of in a flash. Swiss wonders if it has something to do with his magick; Omega had something of a photographic memory, maybe Aeon has something similar? He doesn't know.

What he does know, is that when he says Aether's name Aeon does that thing where he goes away for a moment, and his cock flexes so hard they both choke.

So that's a yes, then.

Swiss doesn't say a word, lets Aeon play the blushing virgin because, well, it's not like he isn't into that, and holds him close afterwards. Gives him a bath and orders his favorite takeout meal before they go to sleep. He even lets Aeon be the big spoon.

He calls Aether while Aeon's in the shower the next morning, just to make sure, and the silence when he asks Aether if he knows if Aeon's slept with anyone is so, so loud. Swiss says it's kinda hot that Aeon likes to play pretend, and they both manage to squeeze out a quick one and agree to keep this knowledge to themselves before Aeon's even done in the bathroom. Swiss texts Aether a quick video of him blowing a kiss with his cummy hand, and Aether responds in kind.

After that, I think Mountain is next, but he isn't one to brag. Rain comes after that, but is suspicious about being Aeon's first despite his shy admissions while Rain was between his legs. He finds out for sure via a good ol' fashioned footjob, because Mountain would give up nuclear launch codes if it meant having the chance to feel Rain's toes work the head of his cock. Rain doesn't feel particularly miffed - the kid put on a good show, after all, and good sex is good sex. He and Mountain both think they're the only ones, though, so they agree to keep it between them.

Word gets out after Dew has his turn with Aeon and brags about it to Swiss over gas station coffee a few days later. Swiss, who cannot for the life of him let the little guy have anything, and immediately snorts into his styrofoam cup. Rain overhears them and they all share a knowing snicker (as soon as Dew finishes scowling) once they figure out Aeon's little game. Swiss calls Cirrus over to let her know, just in case Aeon's tried the same thing with her, and she looks absolutely delighted.

"He asked me just yesterday if I would "answer some questions about his body"," she shares, accepting a sip of Dew's hot chocolate. "That he's experiencing some "new things" and has "questions about girls." He was blushing like a whore in church and everything."

The squeak of sneakers on slick tile echoes behind them, and a pair of lanky arms loop themselves between Swiss and Rain's shoulders.

"Speak of the devil," Swiss grunts, Aeon tugging him down to plant a good morning kiss on his cheek. Aeon grins.

"Mornin' Cir," he greets with a nod, ignoring the rest of them entirely. The ghouls share a collective eye roll. "I just talked to Papa, like you asked." If the new kid's tail was out, it would be wagging like an excited retriever's. "He said it's $750 for tomorrow and $1250 for Thursday, but if you need more then just use the black card."

Cirrus gives him a warm smile, reaching across their little circle to ruffle his hair. Aeon beams at her, might as well have hearts in his eyes when she cups his chin and says,

"Good boy, thank you."

Cirrus gives his cheek an affectionate pat, and that blush they've all come to know by now makes its appearance.

"Tell you what - come to my room tonight. You can help me pick out where we stay for the next few nights. I can show you all sorts of secrets," she adds, giving him a slow once over that makes Aeon flush down his throat. "About how to pick the right hotel in these smaller areas, of course," she clarifies, handing Dew back his lipstick-stained cup and straightening her coat. "I might even have the girls drop in and give you some extra hints."

Cirrus winks, and Aeon's walk to the bus is slow and awkward. They all have the kindness to hold in their laughter until he's out of earshot, but Swiss and Rain both have tears running down their cheeks by the time they calm down.

"Don't break the kid, Cir," Dew says through a cough, wiping his eyes. "I have at least one more ticket for that ride."

"No promises," she grins, eyes sparkling. "Oh he's going to be fun."

That night, Cumulus and Aurora have him together, with Cirrus guiding them all through a very thorough anatomy lesson because Aeon is just so new to all this and has no idea what he's doing, please don't tell anyone:((((. And they're all just so sweet to him, so giving, even after it starts to hurt because they just know he must have so much stuffed inside those tight little balls of his if this is his first time!

They pinky swear not to tell anyone that he cries.

[002yb]

Suspension with no pay is a generous punishment, given how severely Dick knocks another officer's lights out. He's lucky no charges will be pressed. His 'colleague' probably isn't keen to air the dirty details of his provocations to the police commissioner; to have them put on paper.

Dick isn't too eager to discuss it, either. Just thinking of it tests his temper and his resolve not to tear through the precinct to the infirmary the bastard hides away in; to grab him by the collar of his uniform again and wail on him for being a sick fuck.

Gordon wants an explanation. Because he knows Dick. Because he knows Dick doesn't do shit like this without reason.

Dick keeps his mouth shut. He sets his jaw, clenches his teeth. He wants to scream, but he swallows it down. Looks just over Gordon's head instead, and waits to be dismissed.

He takes his punishment. He slams the door on his way out.

The only thing he wants is to go home, but he doesn't want to bring his bad mood past the threshold. So Dick sits outside, back to the wall, and makes himself breathe.

His knuckles are still red and swollen, but they'll bruise in the coming hours. He picks at split skin, smudging away blood that beads up.

There’s no cleaning up the mess he is, so Dick settles in. Dropping his head back against the wall beside the door. Breathing. Meditating. Glaring off at nothing as he sits, stews, and broods. Hands clenching periodically because he still wants to hit something.

Someone, specifically. Because Dick wasn’t done fucking them up before other officers stormed in to intervene. Alerted by shouts and familiar sounds of a scuffle. Baffled, probably, that good boy Dick Grayson can lose it worse than any of them ever could.

So Dick sits there. For a long time, until he feels numb. Until he can compartmentalize and put all his anger and irritation and hurt behind him. Because he’s not bringing it home.

Not this.

Not with Jason there.

Jason who, after some hours, comes up the stairs and startles at the sight of Dick sitting just outside their flat, quiet and unnaturally still.

Jason who sees the damage to Dick’s hands and the storminess to his expression with just a quick glance, and who takes that ugliness in stride and sits beside it anyway. Because it’s Dick.

Somehow it’s both easier and harder to breathe with Jason there beside him.

Mercifully, Jason doesn't pry. Not yet. He just sits there with Dick, quietly shuffling through the mail he must have grabbed on his way up. Ads, bills, notices.

It's so normal, so mundane that Dick feels winded by it. The easy slope of Jason's shoulders, the quiet contentment in his expression. They're outside their flat, sorting through mail; when they go inside, they'll debate on eating in, going out. They'll talk casework, get distracted by their own banter. They'll go on patrol, come home and tend each other's hurts. And they'll go to sleep together, same as any other day. One of many.

Fuck. Dick looks skyward. Blinks. Breathes.

Then he turns to look down at that pile of mail. Distracts himself with the cluttered ad that shows deals at a nearby grocery that Jason scans and scoffs at or stops to consider.

'Are you happy?'

'Depends who won the fight.' Is the cheeky reply.

Dick snorts, but doesn't comment. Doesn't trust his voice, or what words might pour out of him. Despite the lack of bruises anywhere but along his knuckles, Dick doesn't doubt it looks like he's the one that got fucked up.

Apt. Because to Jason, Dick doesn't look upset - he seems hurt.

And Jason isn't going to badger Dick. Or chide him. He trusts Dick's judgment, his reasoning, even if Jason likes to be contrary and challenge Dick at every turn.

But he's a Robin at heart, always curious. And he's also a street kid in soul, nosy because intel is an invaluable resource. He's also Jason, who worries even if he's prickly about it.

'Must've been fucked to get under your skin so bad.'

The words are there, but they're ugly. Dick swallows them down and deflects:

'Got suspended.'

'With pay?'

'Without.'

'How long?'

'A week.'

Jason clicking his tongue and scoffing about it, but he doesn't care about the lost income. It's a line of questioning to gauge the severity of the fight.

When Jason asks about on a scale of Damian to Jason, how mad will B be about it, Dick can't help the quiet laugh that bubbles up in him. He considers, then shrugs, 'Tim levels, maybe?'

Jason sitting with that, puzzling it over until something seems to click and he grimaces. Because, 'what the fuck would you be fighting over me for?'

Dick can't talk about it: about how an officer implicated themselves in the solicitation of a 'back alley whore,' a child, at the time. Provoked by the picture Dick keeps of Jason as his lock screen. Unable to resist the temptation of mocking, ridiculing Dick 'perfect golden boy' Grayson by going after his boyfriend, 'How much is that running you? Used to be dirt cheap, back in the day.' , 'Gotham's sloppiest seconds, or mine at least. Does he still cry pretty when you--?' Etc. Etc.

So maybe Jason figures it out for himself and makes an accurate guess. Because since Jason came back, he hasn't dealt with the police in any notable way. Not as a civilian, at least.

Jason would know that if someone saw Dick's lock screen and talked shit about Jason's appearance or other superficial bullshit, Dick wouldn't be so quiet about it. He'd be ranting and raving, incensed because he insists Jason is handsome, gorgeous (and it's sweet, because Jason isn't anything to write home about; a fun fight to provoke, some days, if only because Dick gets so up in arms over it).

And if it's not anything to do with present!Jason, that only leaves all the shit of his past, which is...

They haven't talked about it. Jason doesn't doubt that Dick knows, it's just - Jason doesn't want to talk about it.

Just Jason recognizing Dick's kindnesses for what they are. How Dick defended him. How he hurt enough for him that Dick risks it all. And then he comes home and waits outside because he won't bring that anger home like Jason's dad would. And he goes so far as to bite his tongue because he won't corner Jason into talking about shit he doesn't want to.

Just Jason, breathing steady and changing the topic entirely: 'I'm happy.' So happy. Happier than he's ever been. It's jarring, sometimes, how happy he is. Because there was a time when he didn't think he'd be allowed it. But here he is. With Dick. At their flat; a shoddy home, but theirs. Where they'll make dinner together and complain about romance not existing in the kitchen, get outta my way )< ; and where they'll talk circles around case work before they start bantering, gossiping, laughing. And where they'll leave for patrol but still flirt over comms and come back and hide their hurts only for the other to poke at them because they know. And they'll sleep. And it's warm. And of course Jason is happy.

It's a simple life, but it's theirs.

Oh, Jason looking at Dick's bruised hands and feeling overwhelmed at just how happy he is - to be loved and cared for so much. ;////////;

Getting all bashful as he tells Dick again, 'I'm really...really happy.'

And because it feels a little too heavy, a little too raw, Jason would cough and deflect in his own way. Grumbling because, 'Would've been happier with an expulsion, but...' Shrug.

Dick laughing under his breath. Taking the out. 'On my way. It was a 'formal reprimand'.'

Then Jason snickers because, 'Could I give you more names? Speed up the process.'

Which oops. Too dark, too soon. But after the initial grimace is a brittle laugh because wow.

Then something something Jason standing up and offering Dick a hand to pull him up, too. And they go about their routine. When Dick settles down, Jason starts prompting for details on the fight. How fucked was the officer's face? How many men did it take to tear Dick away from him? (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)

Dick teasing him about it sounding like Jason likes that Dick lost his shit. And Jason owns up to it fully. Of course he likes it; it was for him. (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

Jason makes it easier for Dick by teasing him about it. Taking some of the weight away from it. Because this is how they look after each other. ♡

[coff-in]

HIIIIIIIII ITS ⭐️ ANON AGAIN I'd like to request a older sister (2-1 year older than Andrew and shes like tall asf) that has the personality of omori from the game OMORI (if you dont whos Omori/ his personality: like doesn't speak for shit and is surprisingly patient with hooligans despite his anger issues) who also likes to gardening.

Ashley would probably give her some silly ass nickname having to due with flowers. Andrew would TRY to be chill around her since he has intrusive thoughts about both girls. (I AM NOT LETTING HIM LIVE THAT DOWN)

But OLDER SISTER READER would probably only put up with Ashley's attitude/lies and no one's else's. For example later in their life when they are sacrificing their parents, Renee would try to bribe Andrew and Reader into ditching Ashley but then Reader speaks up for the first time in her life, only to say "shut the fuck up, you bitch"

Heres more info on older sister Reader:

Her gift is Altered sight, as in she sees the world differently. Like she can see if people are lying or their true intention. So that's why when Renee was talking abt ditching Ashley she said shut the fuck up because she saw her true intention (whatever it was anyways).

Her bunny color would be red

Also her weapon(s) would be her bare hands, gardening sheers, or a hacksaw

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk ⭐️

notes from coff-in: LET ANDREW DATE HIS SISTERS PLEASE!!! i've never played omori but i remember watching manlybadasshero play it during the quarantine. kinda ran out of steam at the end (it's late and i'm very tired, my apologies ⭐️ anon)

[fem] reader-insert, [reader] is older than andrew by two years, incest

mr and mrs graves loved how quiet [reader] was as a child. she didn't make any noise, didn't talk at all, and was overall easy to overlook. the perfect child! why not have another? when andy came out the cursed womb, he was the same and probably learned to keep quiet too via [reader], his big sister. what's the harm in one more child? mrs graves would then learn the harm in having another child that is NOT quiet. leyley came in and couldn't be as quiet or put away as her older siblings, but thankfully this isn't [reader]'s first rodeo in taking care of a child... she's not good at it though (which makes sense cause she's fucking four years old)

andy and leyley are still very close together, especially leyley to andy since she's closer to andy's age (and goes to school with him longer) than [reader], but they both look up to [reader] as a mother figure. leyley had trouble dealing with [reader]'s quietness/muteness but her patience for leyley makes up for all the frustration she goes through. she definitely expects [reader] to pay more attention to her because she's the baby of the family, their little baby sister. how is she supposed to know shit if no one is there to teach her? how is she supposed to feel safe if no one is watching her? damn, she fucked up breakfast again even though andy taught her how not even a day ago, thankfully [reader] is there to make it for them, right? andy doesn't mind [reader]'s quietness. he's so used to leyley's loud and impulsive nature that having someone who's quieter and more mindful is appreciated. especially since she's older, andy sees her as the perfect role model to look up to.

i doubt the apartment they lived in had a yard but they do have a balcony, so i think [reader] would grow herbs and plants that can grow in pots (like strawberries and tomato plants). andy and leyley would pick up some things from watching [reader] take care of them (though they might've killed a plant once from forgetting to water it). [reader] would try her best to teach andy and leyley about taking care of the plants, what they're used for, how to prepare them into meals, etc and it would give them (specifically andy) such an oedipus complex. having [reader] comfort them when they're mad, staying patient and calm when they get frustrated and yell at her, hugging them when they're sad, UGH just being such a good mother figure and a big sister. andy loves hugging her, feeling safe in her arms. THEY WOULD BOTH LOVE HEARING HER HUMMING WHEN SHE DOES STUFF AROUND THE HOUSE

as they grow up, they both get very protective over [reader]. she can't date other people! it's a tad bit hard to enforce that since [reader] is two-four years older and usually aren't attending the same school as them for very long. they usually try to make it as CLEAR as possible to her current partner that they do not like them. andrew is very passive aggressive towards them while ashley is just... aggressive. [reader] gets mad at them the first and second time, enough for andrew and ashley to feel a little bit bad, but eventually [reader] just stops trying to date people (or at least bring them over to the apartment). she can't be too mad at them, they're probably a little bit scared to share their big sister with a stranger...

quarantine isn't so bad to them. [reader]'s little balcony garden helps them not starve for a little bit longer than canon, but not by much. andrew and ashley are both grateful to [reader] for trying to keep them all alive, but it's not a burden that she has to shoulder on her own. seeing the cultist, killing the wardens, escaping the apartment-- all very stressful things that they help [reader] through. andrew sleeps with [reader] some nights and holds her close. maybe even snuggling closer to her chest... after all, [reader] holds some power over him, no? she's older, if she is uncomfortable with it then she can just tell him to stop. he likes being the middle child. having the power and control over ashley but being watched over and taught by [reader], having both that dominate and submissive dynamic with his sisters. would definitely call [reader] mommy after they kill their parents

i find it kinda funny that the demon gives ashley a clairvoyant trinket and [reader] altered sight but doesn't give andrew anything. poor guy. i think [reader]'s true sight would honestly alter the dynamic of the graves' sibling relationship. if she can see the true intentions of people/seeing if they're lying than surely she would be able to tell when andrew is holding himself back and repressing his affection or can see ashley's overwhelming insecurity. would she play into these feelings? anyway, andrew and their parents were shocked when [reader] actually spoke when in the basement, especially when it was against mrs graves? like omg... boss moves, you know?

"shut the fuck up."

"h-huh?"

andrew kneeling down to threaten mrs graves with his cleaver, "[reader] and i don't like it when you talk about ashley like that."

----

coff-in

[hello-nichya-here]

Did Sia insult topic of autism somehow?

Oh honey, it's sooooooooo much worse than that.

Sia wanted to make a movie about an autistic girl that manages to connect to people/feel safe and confident through music. So far, nothing outrageous, just a simple concept that would obviously put Sia's music front and center while doing something nice and educating people on autism.

There was controversy about her not casting an autistic actress as it would have been nice representation, but she could have totally gotten away with that since, come on, hollywood hasn't even figured out Rain Man isn't exactly true to life, they're not ready to have an autistic person playing an autistic character. Baby steps.

The real problem started when Sia started promoting the "charity/support group" that was helping "educate" her on the topic to make the movie. The "charity" in question was Autism Speaks - which is absolutely HATED by the autistic community for things like:

1 - Spreading the myth that autism is a mental illness that one can develop/catch like the freaking flue and potentially be cured of, instead of a neurotype, aka something starts in the woomb and cannot be "cured" because to do that you'd need to replace someone's entire nervous system, which is impossible.

2 - Using that myth to get outrageous amounts of money from people so they "search for a cure" - that doesn't exist and will never exist because curing autism is biologically impossible, AND despite the fact that the overwhelming majority of autistic people don't even want to be "cured" (plus, since said "cure" would essentially mean giving the person a new brain, it leads to the question of "Would I even be the same person, or would that just kill and replace me?")

3 - Using the myth of "We don't know what causes autism" (we do, it's genetic) to, of course, get MORE money from people so they can "do research to find the missing puzzle piece" (if you ever see autistic people complaining about a puzzle piece being used to represent the condition, that's why, it was started by Autism Speak's massive disinformation campains).

4 - Falsely "confirming" things like soy milk cause autism with one of the world's most ridiculous "research", losing only to "vaccines totally make kids autistic, buy MY vaccine instead, guys, I am totally not an unbelievably biased person, it's ALL the other doctors/scientists lying to you. GIVE ME MONEY!"

5 - Pushing the narrative of "autism is inherently a tragedy" to distract from the fact that all the money they waste on stupid shit could be used to help autistic people and their families. Instead, they focus on creating more and more panic, making parents in particular despair even more - to the point that one of their "awareness videos" includes a mother talking about how she wants to murder her autistic daughter and then kill herself... while sitting right next to said daughter.

6 - Promoting ABA "therapy" - which was created by the same guy responsible for the attrocity that is gay conversion "therapy." Both have led to unbelievably high rates of confirmed PTSD and suicidal ideation in patients (victims), and ABA in particular has been compared to literal dog training. Very fitting since it was created by a guy who famously did not believe autistic people truly counted as thinking, feeling human beings, and said as much several times. Despite that, it is still praised by some utter bastards because "it makes the patients act less autistic when they're not crying in the corner or trying to jump out a window"

So yeah, working with these guys is a genuinely horrible thing to do since they're basically a scam/hate group pretending to be a charity - and people were STILL willing to give Sia the benefit of the doubt, since Autism Speak uses all their resources to make sure they're the first thing people see when looking up how to help autistic people.

Lots of Sia's fans, both autistic and allistic, warned her repeatedly, politely, that she needed to supporting them IMMEDIATELY as their goal was the exact opposite of the one she claimed to have - aka raise awareness through an accurate portrail of autism. People were even kind enough to name organizations like ASAN as replacements to help her fix any damage done to the project.

And instead of being a decent human being, Sia decided to cry on twitter about how the mean retar-I mean, autistics were bullying her even when she was so kindly using them for her vanity project.

Because yes, that's how the movie turned out. An unwatcheable piece of garbage, with the autistic "character" being so fucking bad even the people who actively use "autistic" as insulted being offended on our behalf - and of course, she was used just a prop to show how awesome Sia's character was.

Seriously, it was so bad the actress playing the autistic girl was sobbing in between scenes because she knew how it was horrible and she didn't want to insult anyone, but Sia is literally her godmother and helped her career by putting her in nearly all her music videos so she felt obligated to go along with it.

So yeah, fuck Sia and fuck Autism Speaks.

[flowerakatsuka]

finally got around to making a dynamic chart for kuroba & the sextuplets! they deserve a government stipend for dealing with these guys on a regular basis. ( further info about their dynamics under the cut! )

some of kuroba's relationships with the brothers changes over time so here's a bonus chart + explanations!

MORE INFO!

OSOMATSU : thanks to how the rest of the sextuplets first met kuroba, they initially perceived them as being extremely serious and intimidating. this eventually gets smoothed out after they have a meal together at hybrid oden, with osomatsu breaking the ice by making a joke and making kuroba crack up. the two enjoy hanging out and drinking together when they get the chance. they talk pretty casually with each other, especially when the subject of sex is involved. osomatsu finds it pretty amusing that kuroba can say some fairly raunchy shit with a completely straight face. once he finds out they're older than him, he starts calling them kuronii-chan ( or kuronii-sama when he's in trouble them. )

KARAMATSU : first of the sextuplets to meet & get close to kuroba. they " first met " when kuroba spots karamatsu sadly trudging through the rain and they invited him into their shop to dry off, he's been a frequent loiter ever since. kuroba doesn't really mind since they find him oddly endearing and enjoy getting to chat with him, ( that and there's something familiar about him that they can't really place. ) they also have a tendency to nonchalantly go along with his typical shtick. they're a comforting presence for karamatsu, with how kind and reassuring they are towards him. he's very glad that they were able to become friends. he's definitely not into them, though. it's normal to find your friends attractive and fantasize about a relationship with them, there's nothing else going on there.

CHOROMATSU : they're both pretty awkward around each other at first. choromatsu is aware that kuroba is a kind person, but still finds them kinda intimidating for various reasons ( mostly because they're objectively more put together and genuinely passionate than him. ) neither really knows how to talk to each other, typically defaulting to small talk that always falls flat.

ICHIMATSU : even after things were smoothed over with the other brothers, ichimatsu can't help but still feel anxious around kuroba. they feel horrible for scaring ichimatsu that badly the first time they met, but hasn't had much luck when trying to apologize about it. they don't want to make him uncomfortable so they keep their distance from him, despite wanting to get to know him better.

JYUSHIMATSU : definitely their other favorite brother besides karamatsu. there's a lot about jyushimatsu that reminds kuroba of their own little brother, keshiki, so they tend to dote on and be a bit more lenient with him. he thinks kuroba's neat and comes to visit them at work from time to time, trying to get them to come hang out with him. they try to play baseball with him occasionally, but they aren't athletic at all despite being relatively strong. their training sessions don't last very long because of that, much to jyushimatsu's disappointment.

TODOMATSU : kuroba finds todomatsu's cutesy act off-putting, which baffles him considering the fact they have no issue with karamatsu's goofy ass shtick. admittedly, he's kind of jealous of how they treat jyushimatsu, ( and later ichimatsu, ) and wants to get doted on, too. however, any attempts he makes at trying to appeal to kuroba usually ends with them giving him the cold shoulder. they definitely don't hate each other, though, it's more like siblings that have a tendency to get on each others nerves. ( they also have moments like this with keshiki so they do essentially regard him as a little brother. )

---

KARAMATSU : after spotting karamatsu during their high school reunion, kuroba finally realizes that he's actually the same person they had a crush on during their 2nd year and proceeds to have a major crisis over it. it doesn't help that karamatsu doesn't seem to remember them, even when it's revealed to him that they went to school together. kuroba's crush coming back with a vengeance complicates things further and starts to strain their relationship the more it weighs on them, all the while karamatsu's completely oblivious to anything being amiss. ( this gets resolved eventually, but i'll save talking about that in another post. )

CHOROMATSU : choromatsu mistakes kuroba as a fellow fan of nyaa-chan when he sees them making a special flower arrangement for her upcoming concert, but his excitement to meet a fellow fan is quickly undercut by them telling him that they were actually hired to make it and don't know much about her. even though he left the interaction embarrassed and disappointed, kuroba tries to use this new information to their advantage and find something to talk about. they come back to choromatsu after listen to nyaa-chan's music, finding it cute and fun, and tries to strike up a conversation about it... only to find out he doesn't really care about her music, now leaving them both disappointed. they do eventually find a topic they find interesting enough to chat about together : idol outfits. choromatsu is glad to have someone to talk about them with, but the way their conversations go sometimes does make kuroba raise an eyebrow, ( like him questioning why they wouldn't want to wear cute outfits like the ones they talk about, saying he'd wear them if he was a girl. )

ICHIMATSU : ichimatsu's impression of kuroba slowly starts to improve over time, especially after he witnesses them feeding a cat even after it tried eating the shop's plants. once kuroba finds out he likes cats, they starts sharing pictures of stray cats that come by the shop with him. eventually, they start calling him " ichinyan " now that he seems less skittish around them. they also try to help yanagida reconnect with ichimatsu, which he's a little less keen on.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Gojo's s/o ignoring him and not making him sweets after he made them mad? Not in a mean way, they're grumpy but still want him to live longer so they still pack lunch for him. Just no more sweets.

Gojo opened his bento for lunch with his precious students, and frowned immediately when he saw there was no dessert in his lunch box.

For the past few days now, [Y/N] had been mad at him. He couldn’t figure out why and at this point he was too embarrassed/concerned to ask. They acted fairly normal, but the shift in their demeanor had subtly shifted. They would push his arms away when he tried to hug him. They slept on “their side of the bed” instead of in the middle with him like they always do. They hardly texted him at all through out the day other than maintenance text like ‘what do you want for dinner?’ ‘when will you be home?’ ‘pick up milk.’

The kicker though was that they weren’t packing him any treats in his lunch box. [Y/N] knew how much of a sweet tooth Gojo had. They usually thought it was cute. But the past few days he had been without homemade treats, and he had to resort to store bought vending machine snacks to get by.

Still, Gojo ate his bento in its entirety. Because despite the lack of sweets it was still very good and he wouldn’t waste it. When he got home that evening, he decided to take the bull by the horns. Gojo would have to ask what was going on and fall on his sword for an apology.

He just hoped their wasn’t a real sword involved.

“[Y/N], can you tell me what’s wrong?” Gojo asked. Just jumping right in when he came through the door and saw them doing dishes.

“What? What are you talking about?” They weren’t playing dumb. They were literally caught off guard by his question.

“I know something is up. You’ve been distant lately. Cold.” He watched as they put down the sponge with a sigh.

“I’ve been distracted.”

“Too distracted to put snacks in my bento.” Gojo muttered to himself quietly. He knew it was petty, but he needed those sweets to function. “Look, if you just…tell me what’s wrong, I’ll fix it. I’ll apologize. We’ll move on. We’ll go get ice cream.”

“I don’t want ice cream.” ‘Well not everything is about you’ He wanted to say, but was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. “You didn’t do anything. Not…technically.”

Gojo arched a brow. “What does ‘not technically’ mean?” Usually if he did something, he 100% did it and there was no question that he did it. Gojo never claimed to be the model of temperance, patience, or restraint, but he’s also never been ‘kind of in trouble’ for something.

“I’m pregnant.” That left a haymaker in his gut. “It’s why I’ve been distracted. I was trying to figure out what to do and how to tell you, and I guess I thought I was playing it cool. Sorry if you felt left out in the ‘cold’.”

Gojo rubbed his head. Oh shit, he felt bad for that now. But there was an overwhelming feeling coming up inside him. He rushed over to [Y/N] and scooped them in a hug. “Why didn’t you just tell me?!”

“Well…it’s not like we planned this. And I wasn’t sure you wanted kids.”

“What are you talking about?! I love kids!” He was the best teacher in the whole world.

“You love teenagers you only have to spend a few hours a day with.” Fair. “A baby is…different.”

“Yeah, but it’s our baby.” He told them. Leaning in to press their foreheads together.

This was a much surprise than anything he could have hoped for in his lunches. He and his beloved were going to have a baby. There was no sweeter treat than that.

[egg-but-with-style]

Okay, so very new to writing, buttttttttttttttt..

The boys watching you be intimidating!!!

(keep in mind this is written for a tall and plus size reader, you can still read if you aren't though!)

Price.

You're tired, you've been working for hours and then suddenly, some stupid fucking higher up (price) tries to get you to do a little more paperwork. It'll look good on whatever stupid report he puts in at the end of the month for whoever. But you're tired, and while you don't fancy losing your job, you can't help the glare.

Maybe it's the fact he's always seen you be atleast a little polite, a little cordial. Especially with him given he was technically your boss. But the way you stare into his soul, that look that screams you're done with him, with today. When you stand up, he's still stunned, watching you pack your bag for the day, he doesn't say a word.

Could it be considered insubordination to stare at a higher ranked officer like that? Sure, but the strain in his pants takes more priority then filling out a stupid form about it.

Gaz

Ah, pretty boy Gaz. He's worked with his fair share of scary people, Ghost being a prime example. He managed, and while he isn't scared at the moment, he is at the very least surprised.

Watching you practically burn holes right through the private that was yapping about something to do with not wanting to be pushed around by a woman, it does something to Gaz.

He'd punch the little bastard himself, but he thinks you've got it covered, especially when you start laying into the little shit. Gaz was pretty sure the private was choking on they're own tears after you said something about they're attitude being reported to price, how it would be more likely then not that they'd be thrown through boot camp again and again until they actually learned their lesson.

Gaz learned something of his own though. Mean women turn him on.

Johnny

This horny bastard would find about anything attractive. In fact he'd been waiting for a moment when you'd finally lose your cool with him

He'd been bugging you all day. Reports this, emails that. He'd practically poking you with a stick, and while you'd rather not bite off another Sargent's head, it was really out of your hands at the moment.

The thing he finally did to make you start pinning him to the wall and start laying into him, was, funnily enough, him asking about what you liked in bed.

When you started calling him a pervert, a dirty bastard who's only meaning for existence was to make you annoyed specifically. It reminded him a little of ghost, which definitely didn't help his blood going south.

While the verbal attack against his mohawk hurt the most, the look in your eyes made up for it ten fold.

Ghost

He was a big bastard, and despite you definitely not being small, something about the way he stared at you made you anxious, and sometimes anxiety turns into anger. Which it did in this moment.

You were already having a pretty bad day. Which was fine, you would probably be able to shake it off when you got home. Except you didn't think you'd be able to stop thinking about the way Ghost stared at you. Like he knew everything you've ever done wrong

You knew that's just how he worked. He was observing, didn't have anything to say. But as you dropped your phone for the 3rd time that day, the anger that had been pooling dropped out too.

Turning to him and immediately yelling something to him about how if he didn't keep his eyes off you, you'd claw them out yourself. You probably should've kept your mouth shut, threatening a lieutenant was a serious thing after all, but you already said it. Might as well just let it all out.

Telling him about how he looked like a nightmare come to life, how he should go to a haunted house and work there instead. (He might've gotten paid better there too). But he stopped listening after that. Only focused on how red your face was, how you were so angry there were tears in your eyes. He felt a little bad, but only a little. Cause right now he was getting the show of the life time.

He didn't say anything though. He has a reputation to protect.

Authors note: Hi!!! Thank you so much for reading. This is my first time really doing anything bigger then something like a blurb, all of which I've done anonymously, so this is a pretty big deal for me. I hope you guys liked it! Byeeee!

[jinnie-ret]

chan getting a call from 9th member reader, its late and hes still in the studio. he hears readers quiet voice telling him that theres someone following her as she walks back to the dorms from a late night solo dance practice session. chan has that Protective streak that makes him Panic the moment he thought something was wrong with how they were speaking into the phone so to find out they were in genuine danger and not just scared because there was a spider?? i just know that man is Terrifying to anyone who puts his members in danger, especially their only female member knowing how dangerous the world is for women

night stalker

bang chan x ninth member!reader (platonic)

genre: angst

content warnings: stalking, violence

word count: 1.1k

summary: chan does his best to save you in time after you call him in a panic about someone following you late at night.

Hi! Sorry it's late but I hope that this fits the vibe you wanted! I ended up writing it as a platonic relationship but it is still a Chan focus x reader!

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

BANG CHAN'S MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Chan was a leader through and through. The leader of Stray Kids. A protector to his kids. Being the oldest member too, as well as being the eldest of his siblings, gave him these instinctual habits to always check up on his members. So when he got a call from you, at 1am, scared out of your mind, his brain went into overdrive. One, because the way your voice shook, and two, because he didn't know you were walking back to the dorms, alone and in the dark.

"Hey, Chan? I-I think there's someone following me..." you whispered into the phone, your hand shaking as you did your best to maintain your pace of walking.

Being the only female member of the group, and being the youngest, Chan couldn't help but look after you in a slightly different way to the other members. Of course, he loved all of you the same, but unfortunately there were differences in being a female idolised figure. The sexualising comments... he hated how it came with you being a girl. And he knew, that the fear of someone following you late at night, would have come true eventually. He just didn't prepare himself for how he'd feel when it happened.

"Y/Nnie? It's 1am... where are you? Talk to me," Chan rushed out his words, face frozen in horror as he pushed himself back in his desk chair and started grabbing his belongings to leave and find you.

To save you.

"They're definitely following me... shit. I'm near those 24 hour convenience shops," you did your best to inform Chan of your surroundings, despite the pounding of your own heartbeat overwhelming your senses when you realised your paranoia had struck gold this time because you were right to be scared.

One pair of footsteps followed yours.

"Ok, listen to me, Y/Nnie, stay there, I'll come and meet you and I'll take you home, yeah?" Chan rushed out of the company, speed walking his way along the route to where the road of convenience shops.

"No, no, I can't just stay where I am... what if something happens? I'm scared, Channie," your voice broke as you did your best to keep a hushed volume.

"I know you're scared sweetheart, but I'm on my way, just stay on the phone," Chan spoke through his slightly heavier breaths, doing his best to get to you ASAP.

"I'm going into a shop, I don't want to be outside anymore, I'm scared if something will happen to me," you rambled, the ding of the chimes on the door heard by Chan.

"Ok, tell me where you are, can you do that for me?" Chan reassuringly asked.

"I'm, in that blue shop, you know the one with the dodgy neon light?" you tried to calm yourself down, beginning your path of going up and down the aisles, but the chimes were heard once again, "they're here. They followed me in."

"I'm about 3 minutes away, just stay on the line, it's ok, it will all be ok, is there anyone else in the shop, Y/N?" Chan spoke firmly, wanting you to know he was close by.

"N-no, just an elderly cashier, but she wouldn't be able to help if-"

"There will be no if, Y/N, don't finish that sentence sweetheart, I'm nearly there," Chan cut you off, maybe because he didn't want you to take your mind to that place, or maybe because he didn't want to be in that place either.

"Ok, please hurry I'm - hey! Get off of me!" your whispers turned into shouts as you were grabbed and winded by the punch of your night time stalker.

"Y/N! Talk to me! What's happening?" Chan's fast footsteps pounding against the concrete roads would have been heard by you if it weren't for your phone's abandoned spot on the ground.

Your stalker said nothing, yet had clear intentions as he hauled you into a free standing shelf of jars of cooking sauces. And your body took it with you to the ground as several of them smashed.

"Ahhh!" your shout of pain was heard before your body went flying.

"Y/N?!? Shit, I'm nearly there, I can see the shop from here!" Chan's words speedily echoed into the night.

Your attacker fled. Like the true coward he was. Yet you were thankful for your saviour that entered the shop moments after.

"Y/N??"

It took you a moment to realise that it was his voice playing out in real life, and no longer over the phone.

You groaned as you sat up, crawling away from the smashed glass behind you.

"Y/N! It's ok I've got you, I'm here now sweetheart, I'm sorry, I should have got here sooner..." Chan fussed over you, lifting you into his arms and checking you over as you held your stomach and stood in wobbly feet.

"Home, want to go home," you cried out, but no tears left your eyes, you were just feeling overwhelmed and in so much pain.

"I know, I know, I texted our manager to meet near us in a car, we'll get you home," he hushed you, supporting your weight as you left the shop.

"Where? Are they here? Are they close?" you panicked, not wanting to be waiting around in the open any longer than you needed to be.

"It's ok, calm down, I've got you, yeah? The car is over there," he guided you into the back of the car and sat with you, dealing with explaining things to the manager as the drive home began.

"How badly are you hurt? Let me see," Chan pushed your hair back out of your face, looking for any trades of pain which were so clearly written amongst your features.

"My back and my stomach, it'll probably just bruise though..." you winced, head resting against the seat of the car.

"Do you think you'll need the hospital?" Chan worriedly asked.

"No, but... I think I'll need a break... maybe... I don't know I just need to get my head around this, oppa," you leant against him, reveling in the comfort that not only his presence brought you, but the soothing circles he rubbed into your shoulder.

"Ok, ok, we can do that, we'll take all the time you need. I'll get you straight to bed and I'll explain it all to the members, don't worry, ok, I've got you," Chan laid out his thoughts, his priority right now being you. Everything else that came later he would deal with. He didn't want to put you under anymore stress than the current experience you just had. It was only fair that way, he thought.

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @backintomykpopphaseagain @hannahhbahng @sakufilms

[annwrites]

—exactly what he needs | nate jacobs x classmate!reader

tw: use of a firearm for intimidation purposes, threats of suicide, mentions of domestic violence, implied rape, victim blaming

When you turn on your bedroom light, your body, as well as your heart, both jump in fear as you let out a small scream.

❝Sit down,❞ Nate commands quietly, gesturing toward your bed with the revolver he holds tightly in his grip.

❝N-Nate, what're—❞

He rests an ankle over a knee while leaning back in the chair you have shoved in the corner of your room, facing your bed.

He lowers the pistol as well.

❝I didn't come here to hurt you. I came here to talk, and I'd like for you to listen to what I have to say.❞

He nods to the bed.

❝Sit down,❞ he orders once again, more firmly this time.

You swallow thickly, and fight back the tears that're brimming in your eyes as you pad over to it, then seat yourself at the foot.

He glances down to the gun and shrugs lightly. ❝I knew that this was the only way I'd get you to listen. You refuse to even look at me in class now. I'm being treated like a fucking pariah by everyone because of that goddamn play...❞

He shakes his head while slowly trailing his eyes back up to your own. ❝You were the one good thing in my life. And I did everything I could to make you happy—to make sure we stayed together. Everything was fine before Lexi got in your fucking head that day.❞

He leans forward while sliding the pistol along his thigh. ❝These are the lengths you drove me to. If you had just given me the time of day at school, or when I texted and called you hundreds of goddamn times, this wouldn't be happening right now.❞

❝N—❞

❝I love you. I still love you, despite you walking away from me so easily when I gave you everything I fucking had to give. I told you before that you're the one I'm supposed to be with—that you're exactly what I need to make me happy after all the shit my family, and my exes, have put me through.❞

He stands and takes a few steps closer until he's towering over you.

You scoot back a little, wanting desperately to get away from him.

But in doing so, you've given him exactly what he wants incase you don't act accordingly when he makes you his next offer.

❝I'm giving you one last chance to come back to me. It'll take work, but in time, I think we can forgive each other and get back to where we were just a few weeks ago. My life has gone to shit without you in it. I...❞

He shakes his head, while rubbing his thumb against his forehead—that silver pistol glinting against the light before he lowers it again.

❝I don't know how to fucking do any of this without you anymore. I feel like I can't breathe unless we're together. I don't eat, I barely fucking sleep. I don't talk to anyone, and when I do, I'm just constantly pissed off. All I do is think about you and what I've lost. So, I'm begging you: please.❞

You ball your hands into fists to try and hide the way they're shaking, even if your entire body is trembling in fear of him.

Your chin wobbles and tears begin to slip down your cheeks. You know you have to word things carefully. Don't make him angry, or the white walls of your bedroom will soon be painted red.

❝Nate, this isn't love. This is... It's obsession, I think. I don't... I'm so scared. Please, please just go. I won't tell anyone, I prom—❞

He shakes his head again, glancing away. ❝You don't get it. You still don't.❞

His eyes flit to yours again. ❝Maybe I can make you understand another way, then.❞

He suddenly crawls on top of you and your breath hitches in your throat while your heart flips in your chest—beating unevenly.

You press your head back against the pillows while his heavy weight settles on top of your own, completely caging you in.

This was how it had felt being with him, too: suffocating.

Trapped.

No escape.

Dangerous.

Deadly.

❝Please,❞ you whisper.

The revolver makes a reappearance and you still while you stare at the weapon in terror.

And then he presses it to his temple before brushing a kiss over your forehead. ❝I love you more than anything, but if we can't be together, then I don't want to be. Not without you. I can't anymore. I won't.❞

He cocks the lever back, pulls the trigger, and the gun clicks on an empty chamber.

You begin to sob violently.

❝Please, please, please, please! Don't!❞ You shriek.

He presses his lips gently to yours, despite you cringing away from the intimate gesture, cocks the lever yet again, and pulls the trigger.

Click.

You feel like you might wet yourself.

You've never felt so terrified in your entire life—had not thought feeling this sort of fear was even possible.

Not even when he had hit you those couple of times, then convinced you afterwards that it was an accident, but also still somehow your fault.

He cocks the lever back again.

❝Stop! Stop! Okay, we're together, just stop, please, I'm begging you!❞

His eyes open and flit between each of yours that're wide with fright and filled with glassy tears.

❝Tell me you love me, then.❞

❝I love you,❞ you whimper.

❝You won't ever try to leave again. If you do, I'll kill myself. There won't be any empty chambers next time.❞

❝I w-won't. P-promise.❞

❝You belong to me. Forever. The rest of your fucking life. You'll do what I say.❞

You nod fervently while squeezing your eyes shut, and tears slip along your temples before wetting the pillowcase beneath your head.

You hear him settle the gun on your bedside table then, and you let out a ragged breath of relief while opening your eyes once more.

And then Nate tugs his shirt off over his head.

Your brows furrow when he reaches down and begins undoing his belt. ❝Wh-What're you doing?❞

❝Get undressed,❞ he mumbles.

❝N-N-Nate, n-no. I... Not n-now, please.❞

His eyes meet yours again. ❝You promised to do as I say.❞

Your body is freezing cold and you can't stop shaking. ❝This i-isn't r-right.❞

He throws his belt to the side, then pushes his pants and boxers down past his knees before kicking them off the bed. ❝It's exactly right. This is the only way.❞

❝We... We don't even have—there's no c-condom.❞

He slides his fingers through your hair while gazing down at you. ❝You never had a mother, and grew up with an absent, workaholic father. You won't allow your own child to grow up without both parents. You told me that once. So, like I said: this is the only way I can hold onto you.❞

You feel like you're in a nightmare, like this isn't actually happening. Your mind feels disconnected from your cold, trembling body.

Maybe you're having a mental break. This isn't real. He's not actually here.

Nate reaches under your dress and begins tugging down your panties.

❝No, wait! I can't! I can't!❞ You shout, desperate to get him off of you. Desperate to go far, far away where he'll never find you again.

He slowly drags his gaze toward your bedside table and you turn your head, following his line-of-sight.

He reaches for the gun.

You resign yourself to your fate.

❝I'll do it.❞

With numb, shaking hands, you remove your panties.

Just like always, he's lied yet again. He'd told you that he didn't come here to hurt you, but that's all he's ever done.

At least he's consistent in that, if nothing else.

You should've let him keep pulling the trigger.

a/n: the linked story at the top is what this scene was meant to one day be part of, but i struggled a lot with continuing said story once i published chapter 6, so it's on hiatus until further notice. however, i've wanted to write & publish this scene for months, so here it is!

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Scrub My Brain With Bleach - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Vi pays the price for snooping...

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

As she moves to go, her foot catches something under the desk. It's a trunk, the wooden surface scuffed by frequent use. But the design's exquisitely ornate. The lid's inset with a mosaic of mother-of-pearl. It depicts a blue-haired sprite in a grove, a green dragonfly cradled in her palms. The motif is repeated in a band around the brass rim, where the dragonflies open and close their wings, their iridescent patterns shimmering as if in flight.

It reminds Vi of the folktales of Janna, passed into her tiny ear by Mom at bedtime. How the dragonflies were Janna's eyes, their luminous wings bearing the sparks of her magic. How they flitted through the old gardens of Oshra Va'Zaun, bestowing the Goddess's favor. How, should the light catch their wings just so, they'd grant a boon on a lucky soul.

And a kiss of fortune, upon their lips.

Jinx, Vi guesses, chose the box for its whimsy as much as its utility. She's plainly taken pains to keep it tidy. Despite the scratches on the varnish, its structure is solid, and its brass lid is freshly gilded. There's a padlock, burnished to a lustrous gleam, and a keyhole in the shape of a dragonfly's thorax. The key itself is a golden cruciform dangling off the chain that seals the lock.

For a moment, Vi wonders if the trunk is, in fact, a trousseau. Jinx hardly seems the type. Her idea of wedding finery would involve explosives more than lingerie—if she bothered to put anything on at all.

And yet the possibility's not as outlandish as it'd been while Vi was knuckling sleep-crumbs from her eyes in the guestroom.

The trunk is clearly a cherished possession. Maybe Jinx keeps her favorite jewelry here. Maybe she's got a cache of special grenades. Maybe she's hiding a skeleton. Or three.

Maybe Vi's a nosy, meddling shit.

But she can't help it. The trunk's so much like the hope-chest in Caitlyn's attic. Hers was a varnished lilac beauty, lined in rose-petal velvet, and neatly packed with sentimental relics. Her grandfather's bifocals. A pearl brooch from her mother's wedding day. Her father's favorite stethoscope.

And a threadbare pair of Vi's hand-wraps folded around a wispy strip of Caitlyn's panties.

Vi has teased her mercilessly over the last item. There was something so ticklish at the idea of the prim-and-proper Caitlyn Kiramman, with her fastidious manners and her blue-blooded airs, holding her very first fuck-me panties close to her heart—much less in the love-knot of Vi's grubby bindings.

"Just a memento," Caitlyn had squirmed, flushing scarlet. "Don't let it go to your head."

Vi smirked, thoroughly enjoying the display. "My head's the last place that's going, Cupcake. Never thought my wraps would rub shoulders with you skivvies. Let alone your granny's good silver."

"Oh, shut it!" Caitlyn snapped, flushing darker still. "If you must know, they're a reminder."

"Of what? How hard I rocked your world?"

"Not... precisely. I just wanted something real. To help me remember."

Vi was confused. "Remember what? I'm right here."

"I-I know." Caitlyn's lashes dipped. "But things could have turned out differently."

"How d'you mean?"

"That night. On the Bridge. It could have gone... terribly wrong."

"Yeah," Vi admitted, quieter. "But it didn't."

"Because of you."

"Huh?"

"Because you chose to come back." Caitlyn's eyes were shining, but earnest. "You chose to come back for me."

"It's not like you gave me a choice, Cait."

"But there was a choice." The sheen faded from Caitlyn's eyes. Only the earnestness remained. "You made yours. And I made mine. And I'd never have pictured it would lead to..." She trailed off, the flush creeping higher, except now the shyness was subsumed by an almost wistful wonder. "What I'm trying to say is: I wanted to keep a part of you with me. A part that's mine, and mine alone. So that if things ever went sideways, I could always remind myself: 'Caitlyn Kiramman, you took a leap of faith once. And it was the best thing you've ever done.'"

She'd looked at Vi then, and the naked emotion in her eyes was the sweetest torture. Vi's own face flamed. She was used to being the forward one in the flirtation game. To having the upper hand. Not being the one caught flat-footed and off her game.

"That's all the bindings are," Caitlyn whispered. "A reminder. Sometimes... even the craziest leaps can lead you home."

Against her will, Vi's eyes misted.

"Crazy leap, huh?" she managed, trying to regain her bravado. "Is that all I am to you?"

In reply, Caitlyn kissed her. Vi kissed back, a little roughly, just to prove a point.

When they parted on gasps, Caitlyn was smiling.

"You are," she breathed. "And I'd have you no other way."

They'd kissed, and kissed some more, and fallen into bed. But the shocky sweetness of the confession had never left Vi.

Not since.

Vi shuts her eyes, fighting the burn of tears again. In her hands, the trunk is heavy. The weight of a past. One that doesn't belong to her, not by a long shot. Whatever's inside is meant for Jinx, and only Jinx. Vi has no right to open it. Has no right, even, to be here.

Except there's a small voice in the back of her mind.

Wait.

Jinx's past, and the future, have always been tangled. Last night, the knot pulled taut, and her sister had nearly died. Vi had been dragged into the middle of it. So had the rest of the city. Maybe there's something in here that'll clue Vi in on how to unravel the mess. To keep Jinx from repeating her mistakes. From falling into the trap of believing her greatest failure was a childhood lapse that broke everything.

Or believing her only worthy gift is the power to fix it.

Maybe, just maybe, Vi can help.

The key fits into the lock with a delicate click. It turns. The padlock springs open. Vi lifts the lid. Inside are, in fact, mementos. But they're mementos of a life Vi's never seen. An eclectic mix of salvage, toys, and tools. Broken clocks, their innards dissected. Wind-up insects, their cogs and sprockets disemboweled. Half-empty canisters of spraypaint. A small cache of fireworks. A pile of old, dog-eared children's books.

Basically: a heap of shiny.

Vi recognizes her sister's magpie habit of hoarding glitter. The junk stuffed under Powder's bed was of a similar stripe: gears from Vander's old watch, diodes from garbage chutes, fistfuls of colored glass from the arcade, and a single, shiny golden gyroscope.

Vi's fingers touch the gyroscope, and the memory strikes her like lightning.

Ekko.

This was the gyroscope he'd gifted Powder, the twilit afternoon at the reservoir. The day he'd planted a smooch on her little sister, and stirred up a shitstorm when Vi caught them in the act. The day their world, tilting at precarious angles, had not yet gone sideways.

The day is gone, but the gyroscope is here.

Carefully, Vi lifts it out. She's stunned that it's survived the transition of past to present. The gold plating is untarnished. The mechanism is well-oiled. The tiny blue marble at the center, its facets winking, is still intact. As if, throughout the years, Jinx has treasured it more than all the deadly detritus in her possession.

Vi can't fathom why.

At the very bottom is a silk pillowcase. It's stuffed with mysterious flotsam. A small silver pendant shaped like a bird, its eyes made of tiny turquoise cabochons. A set of child-sized brass knuckles, the surfaces etched with a filigree of skulls. A plastic baggie stuffed with leaves, each one browned and crinkly with age.

And—what the fuck?

The curvature of a disquietingly sleek red object with a trigger that, when clicked, sets a row of gears whirring.

It takes a moment for Vi to recognize it as a vibrator.

"Shit," she says, and drops it fast.

It clatters back into the pillowcase, whirring. Vi switches it off, and knots the top tight. Her face smarts. She can't believe her little sister has a sex-toy. One she's seemingly designed to her own specs, judging by the unusual curves and polished contours and the silent-as-fuck mechanism meant to keep her old man from finding out.

Jinx, the Daddy's Girl. Jinx, the terrorist. Jinx, the sorceress.

Who, apparently, has been getting her rocks off.

"Goddamnit," Vi mutters. "I need to scrub my brain out with bleach."