#and instead of going live early at this point in the game i think its best only to play when people are available

[digirainebow]

GUYS i completely forgot i will have to drive like halfway across LA to see a movie tonight so i think i will have to postpone stream #agony #pain #ache #suffering

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

why didn't they just use franziska for literally all of this.

[anneapocalypse]

On Wuk Lamat, and Female Characters in FFXIV

The Thing with Wuk Lamat is you can tell me you think she had too much screentime; you can give me numbers on how many lines she had or how many scenes she's in relative to other characters or other expacs; you can prove to me "objectively" that she gets more focus than other main NPCs; you're simply not going to convince me that this is something I should be unhappy about. And not just because it's silly to think you can use numbers to prove a story is good or bad and make someone else go, "Wow, you're right, let me just throw away all the joy I experienced with this story and revise my opinion because you've scientifically proven to me that I'm wrong."

Because while I love Final Fantasy XIV and I have greatly enjoyed its story in so many ways, fundamentally one of my biggest beefs with this game has been how much female characters have been denied complex character arcs and growth and agency and interiority.

Minfilia gets treated as a sacrificial vessel who lives for everyone but herself and doesn't even get to have feelings about her own death because that entire arc is focused on a male character's angst about it instead. The game tells us in the Heavensward patches that Krile sees Minfilia as her best friend and then just forgets about that later and never follows up on what that loss must have meant to her. Ysayle is basically right about most of what she's fighting for but harboring a bit of self-delusion is apparently such a terrible sin that she has to pay for it with her life, while her male foil is deemed so worthy of salvation that there's a whole plot point about how important it is that we risk our lives and others' lives to save him. Y'shtola is a major character who's been around since the beginning, and the game keeps dropping maddeningly interesting things about her (apprenticed to a cranky old witch in a cave! saved her own life and the lives of her friends with an illegal and dangerous spell and it worked! reserved and undemonstrative yet regularly through her actions reveals herself to be deeply caring! disabled!) and then shows complete disinterest in following up on any of those things with the kind of depth and care shown to male characters with complex arcs like Urianger.

In general there is also a repeated thread of female characters being portrayed as weak or overly emotional: Minfilia is weak because she doesn't fight and needs to be eaten by a god in order to gain "a strength long sought." Krile is portrayed as not being able to pull her weight with the Scions (despite the fact that she actively keeps five of them from dying in Shadowbringers) and the only thing they could think of for her to do in Endwalker was be yet another vessel for Hydaelyn (hmm, that sounds familiar) and it's not until Dawntrail that she gets much actual character development in the main story and even that has to come alongside "Look, she can fight now so that means she's useful." (And I love Picto!Krile, I'm just saying, there's a pattern.) Alisaie, despite having very good reasons for needing to find her own path apart from her brother, is portrayed as having to prove herself when she returns, that she's "not the girl she once was," and "will not be a burden" (while Alphinaud is repeatedly given the benefit of the doubt and reassurance and affirmation from other characters even after he takes on responsibilities he isn't ready for and fucks up big time).

And if you follow me you know I adore Urianger, and I love Alphinaud and Thancred and Estinien too, so please don't misunderstand what I'm saying here! I'm not knocking those characters, or saying we shouldn't also love them. I just use them as a comparison to demonstrate how the female characters have been neglected.

Lyse has some of the stronger character development among the female Scions, and while she's still kind of portrayed as being too emotional and hotheaded in early Stormblood, I think it's actually explored in more depth in a way that I like; Lyse has good reasons for wanting to fight for her nation's freedom, but having been away from Ala Mhigo for several years now, she needs to understand the stakes for the people who've been there fighting for years, what they've lost and still have to lose. She grows as a person and rises to the challenge of leadership, and I'm even okay with the fact that she leaves the Scions afterward because it feels right for her to stay in Ala Mhigo, and at least she doesn't die.

And by all accounts she was, like Wuk Lamat, widely hated when her expansion came out.

Unironically I think the other female Scion with the strongest character arc is Tataru. She tries to take up a combat job, finds that it's not for her, and decides to focus on where her strengths are instead. In doing so, she both holds the Scions together as an organization in the absence of a leader by capably managing their finances, and also comes into her own as a businesswoman and makes international connections that benefit both the Scions and her personally. In contrast to Minfilia, she's not portrayed as weak because she doesn't fight, and is actually allowed to be an important character who's good for more than being sacrificed. Tataru is still distinctly in a supporting role for the player character, however, and her character arc happens as a side story that takes up a relatively small amount of screentime over several expansions, which I think is probably why she doesn't evoke such a negative reaction.

But there is a pattern of the game's writing showing disinterest in the interior lives of female characters generally, and in making their growth the focus of a story.

So yeah, I'm going to be happy about Wuk Lamat! I'm going to enjoy and celebrate every moment of her character arc, of her personal growth, of watching her put the lessons she's learned into action. I'm going to love and treasure every moment when she gets to be silly, embarrassing, emotional, scared, grieving, confused, upset, seasick, impulsive, and still deemed worthy of growing into a hero and a leader. I will love her with all of my soul and you simply will not convince me that it wasn't worth the screentime after such a profound imbalance for basically the entirety of the game. We've never had a major female character get such a strong arc with this much love and attention put into it and that means more to me than I can truly say. The backlash to it is disheartening, as this kind of thing always is, but I'm not going to let it ruin the wonderful experience I had playing it and how much joy it continues to bring me.

And for those of you who don't want any of that for a female character, thank goodness you have Heavensward and Shadowbringers and Endwalker and no one can take those away from you.

(And if you follow me you know that I love Shadowbringers and Endwalker and have very fond memories of Heavensward despite some issues with it, so not only can I not take that from you, I am not trying to!)

Some of us have been real hungry for a character like this with an arc like this, so, I think, y'know, maybe we can have that. As a treat.

[galedekarios]

gale & curing the orb - early access

writing my current series of cut content from early access made me think a lot, especially about how curing gale of the orb might have originally worked out if larian had kept to what had been set up in early access. it's no secret that a lot of things were changed or cut entirely, big and small, like for instance halsin's involvement with ketheric's fall, isobel and the shadow curse.

gale's condition, too, seemed different then.

what exactly was different in early access?

while only a few body models were unique in early access, gale's key art showed his left arm in bandages.

in early access, auntie ethel had vicious mockery lines, which hinted what might be beneath those bandages:

Auntie Ethel: I can smell what's under those bandages, wizard. You're all rot and ruin. Come to greet death early? You'll be a lovely spectacle.

we also had information from gale directly as to what happened to karsus in the aftermath of casting his spell:

Player: I was wondering about that “mighty lord” you told me about in your story. Gale: Ah, yes. Karsus Karsus was perhaps the most powerful wizard that ever lived. The child-who-would-be-a-god, the elves called him. And he tried. With a spell of his own devising he endeavoured to usurp in one fell swoop the power of the goddess of magic.  Mystryl, she was called then. Imagine what it must have felt like. To be a god. To know yourself to be untouchable. To be mistaken. As Karsus aimed his spell at her she began to unravel, and with her, the entire Weave. Too late did he realize what he had unleashed. It would have been the end of everything had not Mystryl sacrificed herself.  Gale: The goddess of magic is all magic. By dying, the entire weave was lost, and the spell that challenged a god failed. It was the end of Mystryl, the end of Karsus, and the end of an entire civilization. As the child-who-would-be-a-god was turned to stone, his empire came crashing down around him. The floating cities of Netheril were no more. An event that came to be known as Karsus’ folly.

which is in accordance with the lore:

Unfortunately, his choice was a terrible mistake, for one of the responsibilities of the deity of magic was to regulate the flow of magic to and from all beings, spells, and magic items in the world. Lacking the ability to do so properly, magic surged and fluctuated. With her last remaining bit of power, Mystryl sacrificed herself to block Karsus's access to the Weave, causing all magic to fail. The flying cities of Netheril plummeted to the earth. The severing of the link also killed Karsus and transformed him into stone, and the last thing he saw was his entire civilization being destroyed because of his actions. This was to be known as Karsus's Folly. The stone form of Karsus eventually landed in a part of the High Forest, now called the Dire Wood. The city of Karse was built around its base. Karsus was never accepted as a petitioner by any god, nor did he go to the Fugue Plane when he died. Instead, his soul was bound to the Material Plane. Those with experience in pact magic could call up his vestige, where he appeared as a giant blood-red boulder, like the one found in the High Forest where his petrified form landed. Blood burbles up from the top of the stone, trickling down the side facing the summoner, pooling at the base. When he spoke, the pool fountained upwards, its height varying on the volume of his voice.

the netherese orb then seemed to have a immediate visible physical effect on gale, in addition to the ones that carried to the full release version of the game.

so putting these clues together, i think it's safe to say that the orb caused gale in early access to be afflicted with some form of corrupted petrification, which makes sense given that it's a piece of magic unleashed during karsus's folly.

at that point, this corruption seemed to be affecting his left arm the most, perhaps either from opening the book containing the netherese magic with it, or trying to shield himself with it - but that's just speculation on my part.

so what did the early access set up in terms of curing gale from his affliction?

gale in early access showed a great interest in the astral plane, especially in the absence of time there. he has several banters with lae'zel, which are still in the game now and showing his vested interest in the astral plane as well as any knowledge or insight lae'zel might offer on it:

Gale asks Lae'zel about the Astral Plane. Has she been there? Gale: Tell me, Lae'zel, what is it like on the Astral Plane? Your home realm intrigues me. Lae'zel: Githyanki lay their eggs on other planes. They cannot mature in the Astral. Lae'zel: I will only be welcomed once I obtain a mind flayer's head.

lae'zel notices gale's interest and initiates a banter of her own:

Lae'zel asks Gale what his interest is in the Astral plane, and he equivocates Lae'zel: Tell me, Gale: what is your interest in the Astral Plane? Gale: Time. Or rather: the absence of it. In the Astral Plane, everything is eternal. Lae'zel: It will be my home soon enough, should Vlaakith will it.

in addition to these banters, which clearly show gale's interest in the astral plane - which now in the full release seems merely academic - hinted at another solution to ridding himself of the orb.

what points to that quite conclusively is gale's dialogue when he reveals the truth about the orb to the protagonist.

this reveal differs quite significantly from the full release version. most notably, the protagonist was able to ask him about his own ideas for a what might be able to cure him from the orb.

gale had something very interesting to say to that question:

Player: What would permanently rid you of the orb? Gale: The orb was kept safe and inert in a pocket of Astral Plane, suspended in time. If I can somehow manage to expel it from my body while in the Astral Plane, it will be rendered inert again. Alternatively, I could learn to control it’s chaotic magic, that is; to succeed where I failed before. But without Mystra’s favour, I don’t see how that may come to pass. Of course there could be different answers as well. Faerun brims with more magic than any one wizard could fathom, let alone comprehend. Who knows what outlandish solutions may yet present themselves?

so what does this all mean?

in conclusion, i believe originally there were either more ways to cure gale from the orb - or maybe even in a different manner entirely - than there are in the full release version of the game (begging mystra to remove it, ascension, or accepting/keeping the orb).

perhaps even one that would circumvent having to beg mystra for forgiveness entirely, without gale having to sacrifice his mortality to do so.

i think these banters and lines of dialogue show that the astral plane, which would have rendered the orb inert and stopped the corrupted petrification of his body, would have played a bigger role in gale's quest.

[totaly-obsessed]

Revelations

Katie McCabe x reader request

-> Katie and you watch Aine play football for the first time

-> 2 requests in one - I hope you like it!

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

‘I want another one’ somehow happened quite fast and not even a year later – Aine was getting ready to be a big sister. Telling her didn’t quite go as Katie or you had planned…

“Baby in Mummy’s tummy!”

A deadly silence had fallen over the kitchen as your wife and you just exchanged glances, trying to figure out who had snitched, both convinced that it was not you.

“What do ya mean lovie?” Katie tried to act unknowingly but apparently forgot that Aine had gotten the sass from her.

“You need to listen better!” You could barely hold yourself up with how much you were shaking with laughter and the Irishwoman’s shocked face. “Watch ya tone, Missy!”

By now the young girl had attached herself to your leg, clawing at you for ‘uppies’ as she had once called it. When you finally caved and sat her on the kitchen counter, she was quickly joined by Cooper who nuzzled his head into her side.

“You’re right doll. There is a baby in Mummy’s tummy – you will be a big sister.” Both of you were curious about how the seven-year-old would react to the news, not even caring at this point how she had figured it out.

“Like Mama and Auntie Lauryn!” Cooper by now had enough of the excited bouncing, opting to leave and look for a pretty spot in the sun where he could nap until his small human companion would inevitably find him and smother him in pets.

“That’s right bub! What do you think of that?” Back was the tense silence, as Katie grabbed your hand, giving it a loving squeeze – this was much more terrifying than you had thought. At least you didn’t need to actually tell Aine the news, she had taken that upon herself.

The small brunette looked around the open kitchen and living space, her pigtails swishing through the air as she scooted closer to the edge of the countertop, getting her face right next to yours. Katie’s hands were ready in case she fell, which she wouldn’t but Katie would always worry. “Pssshh! Don’t tell - this was my biggest wish for Santa! And it came true!”

Your wife couldn’t help but laugh, kissing her daughter's forehead before hiding her face in the very familiar brown hair. “Well, Santa came early then, huh?” It was in the middle of November, but ever since last Christmas, the seven-year-old had started a wish list. “He did! Cause I wanted it so badly – and Mummy did too!”

This had gone over much better than you could have imagined, and for now, you were just fine with her thinking that Santa was the way her little sibling would find its way to her. “You’re right Lovie. Mummy and Mama wished for it really badly too.”

---

---

It was no secret that Aine wanted to be just like her Mama, so her playing football should really not come as a surprise to either of you but it turns out that seeing her little girl get accepted into the Arsenal U8s team was something entirely different.

The little brunette had tried out for them, just like any other kid (no matter what haters would say), and got accepted with no problem. At their age group, it wasn’t considered as ‘Academy’ training, but rather ‘Pre academy’, with two training sessions a week and ten games across the whole season. They also weren’t separated into a girls' and boys' team just yet, so the Arsenal U8’s was a mixed team that would compete against other fixed games and also just boys teams.

With spring break coming up, Aine’s first match was also coming closer and closer. Katie had never felt so many emotions. Seeing you at six months pregnant and now well rounded while her little girl went to training after training, each time coming home with a bigger smile.

“Look at this! You’ll look just like Mama!”

Katie really couldn’t hold her tears anymore – with you holding her hand Aine admired herself in the mirror, wearing her game-day kit for the very first time.

But instead of Katie's 15 on her back, she had a 10 – for Kim Little, the best Midfielder there was and your daughter's biggest idol, much to her mama's disappointment.

“You look so grown up, Doll.” Seeing your wife this emotional, and Aine so happy gave you the rest. Now both of you were bawling your eyes out while the little brunette hopped around the house, before running back with Katie’s phone in her little hands.

“Take a picture, Mummy! For Auntie Kim!”

In the picture you were holding the grinning girl in your arms, as she proudly kissed your tummy, refusing to properly pose as she wanted to show Kim her little sibling as well.

This was the best day yet for the young gunner. After all, she was going to be a big sister, so she had to be a good example and play good football – just like the grown-ups.

“Do me a favor, my love?” Aine stood in between her mother's legs when she finally composed herself a little. “Hmmm?”

“Grow up a little slower, will ya?”

---

---

Turns out preparing for gameday, and actually experiencing one, were completely different experiences – especially when it was a double game day.

Aine was already hopping through the house like an excited bunny when Katie made her way down the stairs to make breakfast.

The Irishwoman had kissed your forehead, gently waking you up with a mumbled “Mornin Love. Thirty minutes.” Before going downstairs. God was her morning voice attractive.

It was seven in the morning. On a Sunday. Entirely too early for a six-month pregnant you who had put a giddy child to bed, that didn’t want to sleep. But your wife was gracious, giving you thirty more minutes to wake up fully before helping her daughter bring breakfast in.

You could get used to this – a delicious meal in bed with your wife and daughter, although a little later would have been nice.

“Mummy, when do we have to go?” This was the third time Aine had asked in the last ten minutes, and every time either Katie or you had given her the answer but the small brunette couldn’t help herself – she was just too excited.

This was the fastest you had ever seen the seven-year-old get washed and dressed after breakfast. She was so fast, that she had gotten impatient with your much slower speed. Aine took it upon herself to get you dressed while you brushed your teeth while sat on the closed toilet.

“Foot please Mama!” You did as asked, picking up your legs off the floor so that your daughter could slip socks over your feet.

And with a quick zoom, she was in your bedroom again, just to return with wide, comfortable pants that you just knew that your wife chose. Instead of giving them to you, she threw them on the floor. “Step in please!” Good thing you were already wearing underwear, huh? As good as she could, Aine helped you get them up and over your bump, but not before giving it a kiss and whispering a small “Hi!”

It went like that until you were fully dressed and she pulled you to the hallway, where your wife helped you into shoes as you could barely see the ground anymore.

“Is this okay? I thought maybe I should have given her longer socks because it will be cold – but then we have a blanket so maybe you will get too hot an-“ Katie’s rambling was cut short with a passionate kiss. “It’s perfect – Thank you, my Love.”

“Let go, let go, let's go!”

---

---

“Now you know how it feels to watch you play!” Katie was tense as she leaned against one of the beams that surrounded the football pitch.

The drive here had gone by fairly quickly as Aine made sure to tell your wife all about her teammates. You had met most of them already during practice or while picking her back up again – the small brunette would always chat with anybody who would listen until you walked over to take her home. Her chattiness definitely came from your wife – but right now there was nothing in the world that could make the Irishwoman relax.

“She’s tougher than she looks, my Love.” By now you had taken the footballer's hand, rubbing calming circles on it in a desperate attempt to calm her down.

Aine was one of four girls on the pitch – two on her team and two on the other. The rest were all boys. And while you knew that she was feistier than she looked, much more like her mother than you, the size difference between her and some of the boys was terrifying.

“Oi Ref!” Your wife’s hand shot up when an opposing boy had clumsily taken your daughter down with him in an attempt to stop her from getting even closer to their goal. “That’s a free kick! Ref!” The guy refereeing the game didn’t see the incident at first, angering Katie even further – but when he did look over the first thing that he saw, was a tiny brunette shoving a boy at least a head taller off of her.

The shrill sound of a whistle agreed with Katie, and the Arsenal U8s were indeed allowed a freekick in a very good position for them, as your daughter had been very central on the field and closing in on goal.

Katie’s grip on your hand tightened with stress – she knew what she would do in this situation. But did her seven-year-old know it as well? They spent countless dinner conversations talking about football and plenty of different techniques, with impressive input from Aine, so she had to know what she was doing, right?

 And she did.

The brunette passed to one of her free strikers and started running through the masses. She was small, fast, and agile – and before the opposing team could blink, her striker passed back to her when she was standing directly in front of the goal.

“Yes! That’s my daughter!”

Katie couldn’t contain herself any longer – the ball had hit the back of the net with a surprising amount of force, their keeper jumping in the other direction, making this a perfect goal. Her first goal.

After high-fiving every player on her team your daughter sprinted over to where you stood and gave a quick kiss to your belly just like she had done earlier in the morning. “For you, baby!”

The match ended shortly after Arsenal's third goal, assisted by your daughter who once again looked at you and Katie, to see if you watched her – which you did.

One of the trainers had brought a box of mixed ice-creams and even though the young brunette wasn’t supposed to, she took three of them and quickly made her way to you and your wife.

“Don’t you wanna eat with your friends baby?”

“Nuh-uh. You are my best friends.”

Well, there go your hormones again as you couldn’t hold your tears at bay any longer. “I love you so much Aine. And you played so well.” The seven-year-old kissed your forehead much like Katie did, before ensuring that someone had recorded the game so that she could show Auntie Kim her goal.

“That was my first win for baby sister, Mommy! Now Mama needs to win tonight so it’s a perfect day!”

“Geez no pressure huh?” Everything was packed up now and the pitch was getting emptier by the minute as multiple parents made their way to their cars at the same time you did.

“Aine I have a question.”

“Yeah?”

“What if it’s a baby brother instead?”

She was now buckled into her car seat, with Katie still at her door trying to work out something that has been bothering her ever since your daughter had announced that you were pregnant again. Neither you nor Katie have been told the gender of the baby, yet the youngest family member seemed sure that it would be a girl again.

“It’s not. It’s a baby sister.”

“How do you know that?”

You tried to watch their interaction as well as you could from your passenger seat. Your Wife’s eyes were wide with curiosity, something that you saw in Aine nearly every day.

“I just do.”

“You terrify me, Kid.”

[bunabi]

Thank you for saying that people have a right to mourn Veilguard. I've seen a lot of vitriol directed at those who were disappointed with the game. That we're entitled, media illiterate, or blinded by nostalgia. And while I definitely think some go overboard with their criticism, I think the people who don't want to admit the game has massive flaws are actually doing a lot more harm.

We all know how terribly EA has treated their employees. That's why so many people have left, not because they don't care about Dragon Age anymore, but because the working conditions were (apparently) unbearable. And like you said, even the devs are mourning what the game could have been! That's why I think it's a good thing that there's been a lot of public criticism of the game. This behavior by EA (and other studios too!) should not be rewarded.

To be real? I don't think EA is the boogeyman its made out to be.

Not to take a bullet for Aussie Daddy Andrew Wilson but everything I've heard (professors, peers, Bioware itself in a handful of interviews) confirms that they're actually pretty hands-off. Administrative level orders like company-wide layoffs or approving/denying funding, yeah. Creative decisions during development and overall studio management maybe not as much.

This user is an EA Partner etc etc full disclosure but I think the truth is honestly complicated. Not saying all publishers are precious and blameless and can do no wrong, but I think there's more to it. We'll learn more about what exactly happened eventually, I'm sure. Kinda dreading it. 😭

Me personally I think they were struggling to get Joplin greenlit. Especially since early concepts don't mention any multiplayer plans (dunno how successful DAI's was but it was a neat selling point and made a little extra money I'm sure). By late 2015 DA4 was still unconfirmed, even if they started brainstorming ideas as early as Trespasser, even after their Game of The Year win with Inquisition. And in early 2016 they showed what looked like a pitch doc with a rook and wolf icon on it. So maybe instead of letting DA get shelved for god knows how many years someone offered it as a live service to sweeten the deal and get the go-ahead. My thoughts, I just paint, I'm bald, etc.

[cottonlemonade]

Plan B

word count: 1015 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: post-time skip!Kuroo x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, pining

warnings: none

synopsis: he is trying to convince you to go out with him

The café was in its typical morning lull when you came in. After the coffee rush of the business crowd and students on their way to class there were now only a few people seated comfortably around the small round tables, chatting idly and enjoying a piece of quiet in the hustle of a new Monday. This was your favorite time of the day. The early spring sun was shining happily through the large front windows, making the dark wooden walls appear as if dipped in honey. The smell of freshly brewed coffee mixing with the soothing scent of cookies, all amidst the faint sound of traffic humming underneath the soft clanking of spoons gave you a deep sense of calm.

After the daily round of hellos and how-are-yous, you put on your black apron and got to work in the kitchen, starting on the preparations for lunch.

“Manager?”, an hour later as you just put the finishing touches on a batch of orange drizzle muffins, one of your baristas poked his head through the door and gave you a look. You sighed and joined him in the front by the cash register. Sure enough the tall man waited for you, a wide grin across his handsome face.

“No.”, you told him before he even got the chance to say anything.

“And good morning to you, too.”

“No.”, you said again, beginning to prepare his usual order of simple green tea.

“Just one cup of coffee, we don’t even have to leave the premises.”

“400 yen, please.”

He counted out a small stack of coins on the counter and crossed his arms.

“Where is your cheer squad today?”, you asked, referring to his usual companions of a broad guy with spiky gray hair and a smaller one whose smile rivaled the sun in brightness. Needlessly supervising the last drops of hot water in the to-go cup, you made sure to add the exact amount of tea leaves to a little bag, just so you didn't have to look at him and his ridiculously confident smirk.

“Eh, I think they got tired of you rejecting me.”

“Interesting, any chance that’ll happen to you, too?”

“Sure, I’ll stop”, he slid over to where you were finishing up his order and lowered his voice, “when you stop blushing whenever I ask you out.”

He accepted his order with a wink. “Thank you. See you tomorrow.”

When the door closed behind him, you found your barista leaning against a counter with a cocked eyebrow.

“That makes seven!”, he announced, pointing to a small blackboard on the back wall where you usually wrote down the groceries needed that week. In the lower left hand corner he and the rest of the staff had begun to keep a tally of how often the guy had asked you out so far.

Seven times in three weeks. You smiled against your better judgment. You knew not to take him too seriously. Knew it was just a game to him. When he came in for the first time you had almost dropped a mug, because how could someone look this casually seductive?!

It wasn’t that you didn’t have the urge to say Yes just for the hell of it. But you weren't in the mood to be a short-lived plaything for a guy who probably only thought chubbies were easy. And thus began a regular routine of rejecting him. You didn’t know whether you actually wanted him to stop or if saying No to him had just become a reflex. A wise one probably.

Kuroo groaned and gently hit his head against his desk. Of course the thought that he might be an actual creep for asking you out so much had occurred to him but when he made his initial attempt, you had said Yes at first before immediately changing your answer to No. How on earth could he prove to you that he wasn‘t kidding when he told you that you were on his mind all day? Your smile, your voice, your exceptionally squishable body all brought new amounts of cute-aggression into his life.

At this point he was running out of options. Maybe… maybe he should just wait until you approached him instead - if you ever would, that was. He needed a new idea.

And so, one misguided day, he listened in on the gossip of his coworkers who talked about what mundane things they found attractive in a guy. And that’s how we got here:

Kuroo sat at a large four seater table in the corner of your café. Papers were strewn about, magazines lay open for references. He had loosened his tie and opened the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt; his reading glasses were pushed back onto his nose in regular intervals. It was warmer today. So warm that he had discarded his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, wristwatch glinting in the soft glow of the afternoon sun. He gave a little frown and absentmindedly bit his bottom lip as he consulted one of the articles, sometimes silently mouthing along to paragraphs he read, twirling the pen in his long fingers. He lifted a page to read the next, making a note on a separate sheet, the muscles in his forearm taut while he wrote.

He looked up at nowhere in particular, then closed his eyes and stretched his tired neck, the open shirt tightening around his broad shoulders, the line of his jaw highlighted by the golden light beaming through the large windows…

"Sir.", a waitress stepped professionally to the table, a towel neatly tucked in the waist cord of her apron, hands politely folded in front of her stomach.

"Yes?"

"The manager isn’t here today."

His cheeks started to burn, "Why- I mean… what?"

"And while we do appreciate what you do for the ambiance", a subtle gesture pointed out the girls, women and the barista staring, some even holding up their phone camera, giggling behind their hands, "this isn’t a library, so please order something or free the table."

"…O-of course."

[part 2]

[allthingscons1dered]

Like Brothers

Batbros x batsibling!reader, hurt/(some)comfort. Reader is going through it.

warnings: canon typical violence, tons of angst, lots of self doubt. I think this is pretty gender neutral, I apologize if not.

For the past few weeks, you’ve been miserable. It had started with a particularly hard case you’d worked on involving Professor Pyg, and the victims he’d taken hostage. You had caught him in the act of dismantling one of them.

It would have made you physically ill, if there was time for it. Thankfully, your muscle memory took over and you took him down— hard.

Writing the report had been excruciating. You had seen a lot of gruesome and evil in this work. But this… it was stuck in your mind, replaying over and over.

You couldn’t sleep the first night. It was there, in every dark corner of your room and every time you closed your eyes. And if it wasn’t playing out in front of you, the screams were ringing in your ears with every second of silence.

So you trained and tired yourself out, thinking it would be the solution. It would never be so easy, of course. In fact, it was almost worse.

Because now you were sluggish and you had a much harder time occupying your mind with other thoughts. And when you finally drifted off, the nightmares plagued every moment of your slumber.

Sleeping no more than two hours a night was wearing you down. And now, after multiple weeks of this sick game, you were starting to make mistakes.

The first slip is not on patrol, but during school. You fall asleep in the middle of algebra. Which shouldn’t be a huge deal, right?

A classmate decides to take a picture and send it to the newspaper, suggesting issues in the home. And the next morning, you’re featured on the front page titled ‘Bruce Wayne: Unfit Parent?’.

The Wayne family has had its share of unflattering and false news headlines, so it’s truthfully more embarrassing than worrisome.

“That’s definitely not your angle, kiddo,” Jason says as he snags an apple from the bowl in front of you before stalking out of the kitchen.

Bruce ruffles your hair. “Try looking a bit more lively today, okay?”

You smile and duck your head, acting sheepish, but you’re overwhelmed. Having hoped you’d get over this nightmare situation by now.

Instead, you wake every night in tears or sweating bullets. The nightmares are always changing. Sometimes, you’re the one being captured. Other times, you’re forced to watch as your loved ones become disfigured, unable to aid them.

Patrol is the only time that you can clear your thoughts and focus on the task at hand. Until you engage too early, with not enough backup. Spoiler bails you out. She assures you that it’s no big thing, everyone has bad days.

You try to believe her.

The next mistake is made when you’re unfocused against Two-Face goons with Red Robin. They’re lousy fighters and yet, you misjudge a hit, sending you flying into the wall behind you.

It was a rookie mistake. And one you wish had happened without an audience.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tim asks as he hands you an ice pack for your split eyebrow. “You’re not seeing double or anything, right?”

You’re mad and embarrassed.

“I’m fine, Tim.”

His brow furrows. “You’ve been acting kind of strange lately,” he says.

You give him no answer, picking at your nail beds.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You narrow your eyes and grit your teeth. “I’m fine. It was just a bad day.”

He looks skeptical and eyes you blatantly. “You’ve been having a lot of those recently,” he starts, but you don’t let him continue.

“Whatever,” you snap, jumping down from the bed in the med bay. “You know, I don’t point out all of your missteps.”

You’re irritated, and more than that— you’re ashamed. Everyone in this family has witnessed something gruesome like you had a few weeks ago, and they continued on just fine. Why couldn’t you?

“Wait,” Tim stresses, voice filled with regret. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

A piece of your heart aches. You hardly ever fight with Tim. Though you may not be super close to him, you value his opinion. But now you’re suspicious of what he thinks of you. He’s obviously taken notice of your shortcomings.

You pace a few steps away from him, not quite looking at him as you toss over your shoulder, “I’m fine, Tim. Worry about yourself for once.”

He catches your arm with his hand, turning you around to face him. “Okay, now I know you’re not fine.”

You laugh, though you don’t know why. Nothing about this is funny to you. “Why do you care?” You ask, your words laced with irritation. “You never have before.”

Stop, you think to yourself. You’re clueless as to where this is even coming from. Have you always had these insecurities?

There’s hurt on his face, and it’s clear he’s trying to analyze your behavior so you rip your hand out of his grasp before he has the chance to.

“I’m just stressed about that stupid headline, Tim,” you lie easily, not giving away any of the usual body language while doing so. “So, drop it.”

You stalk off and hide in your room for the rest of the night, hating yourself for acting so stupid.

Tim didn’t hate. You knew that. Right?

The next night on patrol, you end up getting pistol whipped by one of Black Mask’s men. Your movements were too slow to block the strike— your body exhausted from the lack of sleep. Which lands you on the ground and seeing stars with a gun pressed against your temple.

Luckily, Red Hood was there to prevent the making of sidewalk art composed entirely of brain matter.

Your brain matter.

“Jesus,” he whistles low, hands tilting your head towards the streetlight to look at the purpling bruises on your cheekbone. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take such an avoidable hit this hard.”

His comment burns you, even without intention. It’s a meaningless jab, one that’d you normally laugh at and return in good nature. Tonight is different.

“Yeah, he caught me off guard, I guess,” you dismiss him, shoving his hand away.

Jason rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “Yeah, no shit. You’re lucky I was here tonight, or this would be an entirely different conversation.”

Shame claws through your chest, causing you to clench your jaw. You pull the hood of your cloak over your damp hair and grab your grappling hook, firing and swinging away before more can be said.

You don’t sleep that night, which is no surprise. The imprint of the cool barrel of the handgun has made a lasting impression on your mind. It’s a feeling you can’t shake, sending chills up your spine.

Even worse is the disappointment you’ve seen in everyone’s eyes recently. It leaves your skin crawling and your heart aching.

When you make your way to the Batcave the next evening, you find three of your brothers conversing around the mantle of the Batcomputer. Only Jason is suited up, but is maskless like the other two.

You briefly wonder where Bruce might be, before remembering that he’s on a JLA mission.

Damian is with Jon at the Kent Farm for the weekend, thankfully. You don’t think he’d let you live down one mistake after another.

The sound of your approach draws their attention to you, and each of them seems worried.

“Uh, hey guys,” you greet, a small awkward wave as you survey their body language. The smile on your lips is strained but you’re hoping it leaves a good impression nonetheless.

It doesn’t, of course.

Dick steps forward, the golden boy he is. “Hey, kiddo.” Kiddo, always ‘kiddo’ with him. “You seem a little run down recently. Everything alright?”

You could come clean and explain that you’ve been going weeks without proper sleep, earth shattering images haunting you around every corner. They might understand.

But then you look at the three of them and consider all that they’ve witnessed and lived through, and now you feel sick with shame.

How pathetic you are, for believing you’ve been having such a hard time when each of them has overcome major adversity.

So no, you’ll save yourself the embarrassment of admitting that you’re dealing with childish bad dreams.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you laugh with a shrug. “I’m fine.”

You catch eyes with Tim and you realize he must’ve brought this conversation about.

Dick reaches out a hand, setting it on your shoulder. “You know you can talk to us, right?” His tone is gentle and it’s almost enough to break your resolve.

Almost.

“Why are you all convinced something is wrong with me?” Lie, your mind says. Lie until you believe it too. “I have a few bad days and suddenly, I’m not good enough for you.”

“Woah,” Jason raises a hand in defense. “No one said that, kid.”

“No,” you agree, stepping out of Dick’s grasp, “but you’re all thinking it.”

“This!” Tim raises a hand and points an accusatory finger at you, looking from Dick to Jason with his brows raised. “This is exactly what I was talking about.”

A breath heaves from your lungs as you huff, face pulsing red with your embarrassment. “Oh, so you’re talking about me behind my back now?”

Tim levels you with an intense look. “I asked you what was wrong and you refused to tell me.”

“Because there’s nothing wrong,” you shout, your voice echoing throughout the cave. “God, why won’t you just believe me?”

You hate the way your voice cracks with the last statement. It’s obvious that you’re slipping.

“Hey,” Dick approaches you again, raising a hand placatingly, “Tim is just trying to help. We all are.”

Your fists are clenched, crescent-shaped marks digging into your palms. The air is so thick with tension that it is difficult to breathe.

“If you don’t tell us what’s going on, we’ll have no choice but to bench you.”

The speed at which you look up at Dick is breakneck. His jaw is set, eyebrows creased. Everything about him screams that he means business.

He’s dropped the ‘approachable-and-friendly-older-brother’ gig, branding himself the adult in the room.

“You can’t do that,” gasping, you thread your hands through your hair.

Dick folds his arms against his chest, raising his chin slightly. “I can,” he affirms, strong in his decision. “Bruce left me in charge and I know that he’d agree. You need to work through your issues before you can go back out on patrol.”

“That’s rich,” you snap, “coming from you of all people.”

Dick doesn’t take the bait of your harsh words. Continuing to stand solidly against you, he only raises his brows.

Tears come forth but they don’t fall from your eyes. You look at Jason and try to silently plead with him, but he seems just as content with this.

You tear your eyes away and trace them back to your eldest brother, looking him in the eyes. “Fine,” you concede, voice flat. You look back to Tim and glare. “I hope you’re happy.”

Confusion breaks across his face before fading into annoyance. “If it means you’re not out there being reckless— then yeah, I’m thrilled.”

You can’t control your eye roll as you scoff. “Whatever. How long is this prison sentence supposed to last, anyway?”

Dick tilts his head, something close to disappointment etched into his features. “This isn’t a punishment. You need time to decompress. Something is clearly bothering you.”

You blink at him. Whatever answer he’s searching for, you’re not giving it to him.

“Look, kid,” Jason stalks forward, his hands on his hips. “You can either save yourself the trouble and tell us now, or we’ll just wait you out. Your choice.”

“Why would I tell you guys anything?” You spit, your words setting the air around you ablaze. “You’ll only judge me even more than you already do.”

Jason shakes his head, denying it. “You know it isn’t like that.”

“Yeah,” Tim interjects. “When have we ever judged you?”

You sneer at him. “What do you think you’re doing right now, genius?”

“We’re trying to look out for you,” he snaps back, “like brothers.”

There’s a lump in your throat. And you can’t clear it. You face away from them, tears stinging your eyes. They were trying to help you and you couldn’t even let them in.

You shake your head, “You’ll be waiting awhile, then, because the only thing wrong with me is being suffocated by your constant worrying.”

The shock on their faces is evident as you take your leave, stomping up the stairs and into the manor. You regret your words, wishing that you had just come clean. It was clear that they cared about you, that maybe your insecurities were lying to you.

But what if they weren’t? What if they weren’t just insecurities?

“I know you’re angry with me,” Tim begins, following behind you down the hall toward your room— you had failed to notice his presence, “but we’re just worried about you. I’m worried about you.”

You stop at the door to your room but you don’t enter. Nor do you look at Tim.

“I hear you at night.”

That grabs your attention. Your eyes snap to him and his face is sympathetic, not judgemental. It’s worrisome, not hateful.

“What?” You ask, breathless.

“The nightmares,” he reiterates. “You aren’t able to sleep because of them.”

It’s not a question— you realize that he knows this to be true. It makes sense. He’s a detective, just like the rest of the family, but Tim is different.

He discovered the identities of both Batman and Nightwing, all on his own. Simply because he wanted to. And he obviously wanted to know what was causing you to behave this way.

“It started a few weeks ago,” you admit bashfully, voice barely above a whisper.

Tim frowns, brows lowered. “Professor Pyg.”

You nod, eyes vacant and unfocused. “All I can hear, when I close my eyes, are their screams. And then I think, ‘I could’ve gotten there faster.’”

A humorless laugh escapes your lips and your flies to cover your mouth, startled by it.

Tim reaches out, grabs your free hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “You did the best that you could.”

Your somber eyes meet his, just before tugging your hand away. “And it still wasn’t enough.”

His expression falls as you slip away and into your room, hiding from the shadows of the manor and from the guilt you couldn’t possibly hope to outrun.

A/N: Sorry for, like, a crap ton of angst. Okay, I’m not sorry. It’s what I’m best at, unfortunately. Would yall be interested in a pt2?

[stxrr-strxckk]

Something I noticed about I Saw the TV Glow that I haven't seen anybody mention yet

I saw this movie in theaters back in early may when it was released (Twice!), and it's been lingering in my head ever since then. Something I noticed on my second watch through: When Owen (and the audience) first see the Pink Opaque, we see Tara and Isabel in this sort of 90s nostalgia light, and I always thought they looked quite similar to Maddy and Owen. For example: Here is Owen and Isabel next to each other for reference.

While it's not entirely the same (Owen has softer features and is warmer toned, Isabel is more sharp and cool toned), they do look like they'd at least be related, cousins at least?

Same with Maddy and Tara, though not as much. (They looked more similar after Maddy's haircut, but I'm too lazy to change the photo)

But then, at the end when Owen is rewatching Pink Opaque? It's completely different. That nostalgic effect is gone and all of a sudden Tara is nowhere to be seen (Since Maddy left the world they were trapped in), and Isabel is completely different. Instead of being the confident, strong, WOC we see her as originally, she's just the same boring white protagonist of every little girl's show we grew up on.

And of course Owen is panicking, realizing that he lost his chance: He buried Isabel; she's dead underground, without her heart and instead of being who he truly is where he truly belongs, he's just... Owen. Stuck in suburbia, living the hell of being a queer kid growing up in the suburbs. Except now, he's an adult living a lie, knowing what he could have had is gone and he's stuck.

And another thing: I think the choice of the fun zone being where Owen works is deliberate. Sure, they could have kept him at the theater, but the theater shutting down is not only accurate (sad but true- please support your local movie theaters!) but shows how everyone is moving on from that experience of going to see a movie (and also from the joy of childhood and into adulthood while Owen is still stuck that awkward teenager!) in person- choosing streaming instead.

And we also notice this change in the Pink Opaque when Owen is watching it streaming. This is a reflection of how media felt more special growing up when it was in a physical form. Cds, vinyl, Dvds, casettes, film reels, even game cartridges, we've always had some physical object that bonds us to the worlds of creativity in which artists express themselves. And whether you've noticed or not, it's a special sort of feeling that just... Dies with streaming. Its like you own a piece of the media. Like saying: "This is mine, it's my personal piece of media that belongs to me and only me." and that's always made it feel special. Sure, there may be multiple copies, but this one belongs just to you. Not to mention the ritual of actually putting in cds, dvds, casettes into a player, or playing vinyl on a record player. There's this action you have to take to consume this media that's familiar and sort of gets you to anticipate what you're about to watch (much like Owen and Maddy's ritual of Maddy taping the show then leaving them around school for Owen to find) whereas now, you're just on a streaming service that lots of people own, and you're just mindlessly scrolling through hundreds of options.

Another thing: What do we see when Owen cuts his chest open in the final few minutes? TV static. Like when a tape finishes and you don't take it out of the player. His tape is over, Isabel is dead, and all that's left is the static of his fake life as he slowly rots in this husk. Now with streaming, you don't get that static. His connection with the Pink Opaque stems from his friendship with Maddy, the nostalgia of his favorite childhood show, and of course: his own queerness.

It's no secret this movie is about growing up queer and feeling like something is wrong. Like some part of you missing, the part that makes you normal. I've seen many reviews on IMDB that clearly missed the point, so I really want to spell it out here: THIS IS A MOVIE ABOUT QUEER PEOPLE FOR QUEER PEOPLE. And I've never seen a movie so perfectly encapsulate that feeling more than this one.

From my experience as a queer POC growing up with little to no representation I know this feeling all too well of seeing someone and realizing: "Wow, that's me." And projecting who I wanted to be onto that person. Even though they're not queer, they're not a poc, they're just a character. We try so hard to make them into who we want to be that the image of this character becomes so distorted you barely recognize them. Then, later revisiting that media to realize that a: you've become them, your true self, or b, in Owen's case: that you've buried that person alive and barely recognize yourself now.

It's really such a unique experience that I've never been able to put into words before. These scenes gave me such a visceral feeling and I almost cried in the theater. The scene of Owen in Isabel's dress is just the cherry on top. I myself am lucky enough to not need to transition and growing up I didn't feel as much dysphoria as my other trans friends, but this reminds me of a good friend of mine who used to dress in heels, makeup, skirts, and dresses to try and lessen the dysphoria she felt growing up in the wrong body.

I also love how the movie shows being queer in school.

Like how Maddy asks Owen if he likes girls or boys, and he replies with: "I think I like TV shows."

Avoiding the question because you either don't know the answer, or are so afraid you're gonna get bullied even more for being who you are.

Growing up, there weren't many queer kids in my school. So when we found each other, we stuck together. But for most of school, we were alone. No groups, not many friends, no space at the lunch table for us.

And seeing Owen, I just felt this connection to him almost immediately. Alone, not part of any group, until he finally finds Maddy. They don't have anything in common except the show, which is really the only reason they're friends, but it keeps them together, They're bonded.

For me, I see this as finding another queer kid in a mostly straight school. You may not have much in common, but that identity means you two will stick together, no matter what.

TLDR: I love isttvg, it makes me cry, everyone is gay and fuck imdb.

[smilingformoney]

Rickmas Day 1: December Moon

Character: Elliott Marston (Quigley Down Under) Relationships: Elliott/Mary (OC) Warnings: None

Based on In Another Life

Read on Ao3 or below:

Mary had always loved Christmas, and although living in the Outback with Elliott was far different from London, the spirit of Christmas was still the same. She had thought long and hard about what to get her husband for their first Christmas together - her first thought had been to make him something, but she always made clothes for him, and she wanted to do something a little different for Christmas. So instead, during a trip into Perth, she excused herself from him to go shopping for a gift, one which she had to hide in a crate of fabrics she’d bought in order to avoid his finding it too early.

Knowing his love for the American West, she bought him a book on American ranching. She didn’t quite understand his fascination with American culture, but she knew he’d be delighted to learn more about how to emulate their culture.

He was indeed overjoyed to open the book on Christmas Day, so much so that he began reading it that very same day. On Boxing Day, Elliott disappeared after dinner, and when Mary went looking for him, she found him behind the house, fiddling with a rope.

“What on earth are you doing out here, El? It’s freezing!”

He looked up at her and smiled.

“I’m tying a lasso,” he explained holding up the rope, which he’d tied around in on itself.

“And am I supposed to know what that is?”

“I read about it in the book you bought me. Americans use it to capture cattle.”

“Ah, of course.” Mary smiled. She knew it wouldn’t be long before he found something in that book he wanted to emulate. “How does it work?”

Elliott explained it to her, showing her how the loop would tighten to hold its target. Mary didn’t quite understand how it was any better than his current methods of controlling his cattle, but she wasn’t about to question his work, just as he never questioned hers.

He tried to demonstrate it to her, but although he managed to land the loop over the haybale he was using as target practice, as soon as he tried to tighten the hold, the knot he’d tied fell apart.

Mary giggled. “Well, you’re halfway there, darling.”

“Quiet, you,” Elliott said warningly with a cheeky wink. “We don’t want my men thinking I’m no good at this, do we?”

He began pulling the rope back towards him.

“Ah, so that’s why you’re practising by moonlight! You do realise, of course, it’d be a lot easier in sunlight?”

“Perhaps. But where’s the fun in that?”

He looped the rope around again and began tying another knot, firmer this time, and Mary knew he’d not give up until he had it perfected.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, darling. Don’t stay up too late, will you?”

“Of course not. I’ll be there to keep you warm, don’t you worry.”

Mary smiled, kissed her husband on the cheek, and went back inside, wondering if she ought to have a look at the book herself if there were any details of the American rancher’s fashion, so she might create something for Elliott to make him look the part he admired so much.

Elliott spent days working on his lasso technique. Every evening after dinner, when the sun had gone down, his men had finished their work, and Mary was either working on her tailoring or keeping her diary up to date, Elliott would go around the back and practise with his lasso.

On New Year’s Eve, everyone at the station gathered together to ring in the New Year. Mary mostly stayed by Elliott’s side, but when she became distracted playing a game with Tommy, she realised a little before midnight that she’d lost Elliott.

Not wanting to miss out on a midnight kiss with her husband, Mary went looking amongst the men for Elliott. Kelly pointed her to the barn, but he wasn’t there; O’Flynn suggested he might be in the cellar, where he kept his whisky, but he wasn’t there either. The gathered crowd began counting down to midnight, and Mary stepped glumly down from the porch, disappointed that she couldn’t find Elliott.

As the countdown reached twenty, Mary suddenly saw a length of rope cross her vision, and she found herself pulled aside by the waist; before she could fully comprehend what was happening, she was spinning into Elliott’s arms. He caught her, laughing as she found her footing.

“Well, hello there, little lady,” he said teasingly. “Seems I caught the prettiest girl in all Australia.”

Mary saw the rope in his hands, and realised what had happened - he’d caught her in his lasso.

“It seems you have,” she giggled. “I thought you wanted to lasso cattle, not women?”

“It’s multipurpose. Now, would you entrust your husband with a kiss to start the new year?”

“Of course I will!” Mary agreed enthusiastically. She leant up on her tiptoes, and as the gathered crowd cheered in the new year, Mary’s lips met Elliott’s, and 1865 begun as they intended it to go on - her, in his arms, safe and protected from harm.

[heartofjasmina]

glad you like seeing me in your ask bc i like being here. ♡

another request for some soft x reader goodness. you write soft stuff so well and frankly i can’t get enough. i’ll let you pick a character this time, and as always, anything is fair game. i think we’ve read enough of each other’s writing to know i’ll like whatever you come up with. thanks so much.

<3 thanks so much bunny that means a lot! and I gotta go with my baby Bakugou <3

::

Katsuki spent Saturdays taking care of his baby, come hell or high water. He woke you up bright and early despite your sleepy (and adorable) protests, "'m tired Daddy."

"I know punkin, but its Saturday. You don't want to miss pancakes and cartoons do you?" He bit back a grin when you suddenly bolted upright out of your bed and started to head to the kitchen. "Brush your teeth first brat!"

"Yes Daddy!" You singsonged. Katsuki felt his heart settle into place like it always did in these moments, when he was reminded his best girl was also his most adorable baby who trusted him implicitly.

You two spent the day at home away from prying and judgemental eyes. Katsuki set up a picnic in the living room, with all your favorite stuffies in attendance, including Mr. Rogers the Rhinocerous and your Cinnamoroll. He helped you get dressed in your poofiest princess dress and even put on his only tuxedo to escort you.

"May I, my lady?" He offered you his arm and smiled at the shy giggle that left you as you took it.

"You may, Sir Daddy."

And even though he'd take this to the grave, he let you put your tiara on him when you were having your tea party with finger sandwiches, just to see you burst into a fit of laughter.

"Daddy's a princess!!" You crawled over to him and kissed him all over his face, loving him with truly your whole heart.

"Only for my baby." He grumbled but kissed you back regardless.

The whole day was a treasure for both of you, a memory too keep with you throughout the week when the real world demanded your attention. And that's why you both threw yourselves into your dynamic every weekend. It was the oasis in the desert that you drank from greedily each time.

By bed time you were as exhausted as Katsuki was, but bone deep happy. "Come on punkin, time for teeth brushing and bedtime."

"Okay, but you gotta carry me." You held up your arms and made grabby hands at him, knowing your pro hero husband could easily lift three times your weight.

Katsuki narrowed his eyes at you playfully before picking you up, murmuring as he rolled his eyes, "I'm in love with a little tyrant."

"Your tyrant, daddy!"

"My tyrant. Now brush." He helped you when you got too tired to brush yourself, then grabbed your paci.

When you got really tired you regressed even younger than normal, often not talking- instead using charades and noises to get what you wanted. Like pointing and whining for your paci which wasn't in your mouth fast enough.

"I know I know, here you go." Katsuki's voice gentled even further, knowing that you got even more sensitive like this. "My baby." He kissed your forehead and your nose, smiling when you ducked your head shyly.

He got you both settled in bed and cuddled you close, knowing that tomorrow you'd be yourself and Katsuki, not baby and Daddy anymore. So he soaked up this last moment, giving you a booty rub to relax you further and kissing your forehead and cheeks until you both fell asleep.

[sea-owl]

You know, I think there's some conversations to be had with Ogerpon's decision to go with the main character and the reactions to it.

Looking at the backstory for Ogerpon, she has been living very isolated on Kitikami ever since her original trainer died and the battle with loyal/mischevious three. Her story has been mistold to where she's the villain and the people born to Kitikami dislike her basically on principle. She hasn't felt safe to reveal herself to others outside of the masks festival where everyone is wearing a mask. Though based on some of the dialogue, it makes me think this is a one-off thing, and I think she finally felt brave enough because she saw the MC beforehand.

Ogerpon is shown to be very intelligent pokemon, she knows who is from the village and who isn't. She's also a curious pokemon because instead of fleeing when she sees MC and Kieran battling in front of her cave, she stays and watches. MC is probably the first outsider, like herself, that Ogerpon has come across. Kitikami kinda gives off the vibe that while they are currently trying to become more open to outsiders its a work in progress. But seeing someone different may have made Ogerpon curious enough or brave enough to go to the festival. At the festival she has a positive experience with the MC, the first positive experience she's had with a human since her original trainer. Now her past experience did make her nervous enough to flee when Carmine, one of the villagers, showed up, but I don't hold that against her.

After that, Ogerpon has positive after positive experience with the MC. They bond, MC shows a gentleness and care that Ogerpon hasn't received from humans in generations. The MC runs around Kitikami looking to take back the masks Ogerpon cherishes with Ogerpon. Looking into all of that I'm not surprised by Ogerpon's choice of traveling with the MC to put her hurt behind and make new memories.

Now, looking into Kieran. Before I go further, let me say I love Kieran. I love the arc his character goes through, but he kinda gives off nice guy energy who got rejected by his crush when it comes to Ogerpon. We learn early on that Kieran idolized Ogerpon's or the Oger's, strength. While talking with Carmine at the festival after seeing Ogerpon, she hints at, as much as can be hinted for a kids game, that his idolization may be a bit more of an obsession. Which, I am inclined to believe because we actively see him doing the same thing to MC and their strength.

Off the bat, Ogerpon isn't going to trust Kieran because he's from Kitikami. That isn't against him. That more just has to do with Ogerpon's experiences. Kieran also actively goes into Ogerpon's territory, sometimes at night, we're told, which is dangerous. That can't be a good feeling of someone rocking up to your home in the night, possibly waking you up. Especially when you don't trust the villagers as is and try to avoid them. Now we don't know if Kieran ever said anything while at Ogerpon's den, hoping she would hear or what he does when he gets to the den. But we do know she never felt safe or comfortable enough to reveal herself. Kieran mentioned to the MC that he would have Ogerpon live in his house in the village, a place Ogerpon actively avoids. So I wonder if he made that offer to her too by speaking it aloud or she overheard that at an earlier point, and it came off as a threat to her.

Back into the story Ogerpon doesn't bond with Kieran at all. He has the chance to, MC and Carmine both actively say hey let's go help Ogerpon get the masks back but he declines. Now he does go and spread the true story of Ogerpon to the other villagers but Ogerpon never asked for that, she didn't even want to step foot into that village. What she wanted was her masks back. That honestly should have been our first hint that Kieran didn't respect Ogerpon's choice.

Then came the battle for Ogerpon. At this point Ogerpon has actively chosen MC to be her new trainer and we see the negative affects of Kieran's obsession. He claims we "stole the Oger" from him, who he liked first. Carmine even jumps into this argument, saying that hey Ogerpon made her decision and they should respect that, but Kieran still wants to battle MC for her. He runs off after MC catches Ogerpon and the end scene to the Teal Mask DLC we see his obsession full on switch from Ogerpon to MC.

Indigo Disk also brings up some intresting things as well when it comes to Kieran's unhealthy obsession to Ogerpon. During your battle, he still calls her the Oger instead of her actual name, and if you bring her into battle, all his attacks focus on her. He's not over her rejection.

I also think there might be a conversation to be had about real world commentary on women's choices via Ogerpon as well. Whether the Pokemon company meant to do it or not they set it out there when they decided to make Ogerpon a girl. They reinforced it too by making players respect her decision and making her untradeable when Kieran trades with you after Indigo Disk.

[beecauseevan]

For the prompts!! How abooout..... some kind of secret or like sneaking around? But not in a cheaty way lol in a cute way

"Hey. You wanna go for a run?"

"Uh." Buck glances at his phone. He's curled up on the couch, still wearing the sweatpants he slept in. There are pillow creases on his cheek. It's a nice Saturday morning, early enough that Chris won't be up for another hour at least, and if he asked Eddie to stay, tried to convince him to give a different kind of cardio exercise a try, Eddie wouldn't need much convincing. Instead, Buck says, "Maybe not today? Tomorrow?"

"You didn't want to go yesterday either," Eddie points out. "Not every day can be arm day, Buck."

Buck's sleep-warm face twists into a smirk. "You like my arms."

"That's," Eddie clears his throat, and tears his eyes away from the arms in question, currently sticking out of an old gray t-shirt that's way too tight around Buck's shoulders. It must be one of Eddie's, and that—that adds a whole other layer. "That's not the point."

"Tomorrow," Buck offers again.

He says it like he expects Eddie to protest, like there's something—off, about tomorrow. Something Eddie should remember. Eddie wracks his brain for a solid minute, but he can't think of anything except,

"I'm not going running tomorrow. Tomorrow is gym day."

Buck smirks, clearly pleased with that answer for some impossible reason. Before Eddie can wonder about that, Buck gets to his feet and pulls him into a lingering, toothpaste-flavored kiss. 

"There's a treadmill at the gym."

He bites the words into Eddie's jawline and Eddie shivers, arms winding around Buck's waist to keep him close.

"Tomorrow," he confirms, against Buck's lips.

"Tomorrow."

"Okay," Eddie says, and pulls away. Buck chases his lips, which is its own kind of intoxicating, but Eddie stays strong. "I gotta go. Or I'm not leaving."

"If that's supposed to be a threat, it's not a good one," Buck says, but he lets Eddie go.

It's a nice September day, warm without being hot, breezy without being uncomfortable. Eddie gets his five miles in easily enough. When he gets home, Buck is still in the living room, still in his PJs. He's talking on his phone now, eyes shifty and voice hushed, and when Eddie enters the living room, he hangs up immediately, without so much as telling the person on the other end goodbye. 

"You're back!" he says, and where he was whispering just moments ago, his voice is too loud now, and the words come out too fast. 

"Yeah," Eddie says, coming to a halt a few steps away. "Who was that?"

"Bobby," Buck says. 

He holds Eddie's eyes when he says it, and Eddie shrugs. He has no reason not to believe him—this is Buck. Eddie trusts him with his life and with his heart.

Except—what if he got caught up in something bad, or—no. Buck would tell him. He doesn't do that kind of shit anymore. Not since the will. 

"What's for lunch?"

"Am I your 50s housewife?"

"Do you want to be?" Eddie smirks, and doesn't try to dodge the kick Buck aims at Eddie's shin, because he deserves it. 

"Chris requested Isabel's tamales," Buck informs him. "Thought I'd make enough that we'll have leftovers tomorrow."

There's that look again, like he expects Eddie to object. Eddie wouldn't dream of objecting. Ever since Isabel gave Buck her secret recipe a few months ago, Buck has been working hard to perfect it, and he's come pretty damn close. It's a pretty time-consuming dish for a random Saturday, but if Buck is up for it…

"Gotta listen to Chris."

"Uh huh." Buck gets up and stretches. His too-tight t-shirt rides up and Eddie's eyes get stuck on the stripe of skin it reveals. "You have no skin in this game, huh?"

"None," Eddie confirms, and leans in to kiss Buck's cheek.

It's a short way from Buck's cheek to his neck, and Buck lets him play for a minute, before strong hands find Eddie's shoulders and push him back, gently but firmly. 

"You're gross. Go take a shower."

Eddie doesn't even pretend to be offended. "Join me?"

Buck looks between his phone and the bathroom door and Eddie, and throws the phone on the couch. "Race you."

The next morning, when Eddie is getting dressed for the gym, he can tell from the strange look on Buck's face that he's going to be alone again. 

Eddie turns away from their closet mirror, away from Buck's reflection, and faces the man himself. He looks good, tangled up in their sheets on Eddie's side of the bed, but that's not enough to distract Eddie. Not today. 

"Come on."

"Sorry," Buck says immediately, propping himself up on his elbows. "I know I said—but I just didn't sleep well." He's interrupted when his phone dings, discarded on the nightstand. "Sorry. Tomorrow. Promise."

Eddie wasn't that disappointed to begin with (though he does love watching Buck work out), but when Buck tells him that he didn't sleep well, any other emotion he might have been feeling is replaced by concern. "Are you okay? Nightmares?"

"No, no. I'm okay." Buck reaches for him, grabs Eddie's wrist to pull him closer, to pull him down, to kiss his cheek. "I'm okay. Promise. Have fun, yeah?"

He gives Eddie a little shove, and Eddie goes, but his head isn't in it today. He's lucky he doesn't pull a muscle, because the whole time he's at the gym, his thoughts are back home, circling around Buck's strange behavior. 

What if he is in some kind of trouble after all? Or worse—what if he's sick? After the clot, Eddie wants to believe that Buck wouldn't hide a health issue, but he can't be sure, and what if— 

By the time he gets back home, he has all but convinced himself that something is wrong. It's Sunday, though, so that means Chris is home, and Eddie can't really stage an intervention. That's fine. He's going to give Buck until tomorrow to tell him, and if he's still keeping Eddie in the dark then—shit. 

Eddie barely wants to think that far. They haven't had a real fight since that day in the grocery store. He really doesn't want to break that streak. 

He's frowning to himself when he unlocks the front door. He doesn't want to have a fight, but if Buck doesn't tell him, then Eddie will have to find out for himself. Because if Buck is in some kind of trouble, if Buck needs help, then—

"Surprise!"

Eddie freezes. His living room is filled with people. Front and center stands Buck, smiling brightly, and right next to him Chris, who's left his teenage scowl in the closet for once. 

"What—" Eddie starts. 

"Told you he forgot," Buck tells Chris, who sighs heavily. 

"How do you forget your own birthday?"

And it's not that Eddie forgot. It's just that there's been a lot going on, between work and therapy and raising a teenager and—

Buck's smile is as blinding as the September sun. "You gonna come and hug us or what?"

Eddie doesn't have to be told twice. He's suddenly very fucking glad he took a shower at the gym. He crosses the room with two large strides and hugs them both like they're his lifelines, because they are. 

A birthday party. They're throwing him a birthday party. 

"This is what all the sneaking around was about?"

Buck pulls back and gives him a smile, apologetic and still beautiful. "Thought I was being subtle."

Eddie laughs, loud and bright, relief and gratitude washing the fear from his bones.

"Not even a little bit," he says. "Jesus Christ."

He releases his boys and looks around the room, at everyone else, at his family. 

"Told you we shouldn't have let Buck plan it," Chim says, but his smile takes the sting out of his words. 

Hen snorts. "You suck at keeping a secret even worse than he does."

Maddie is the first to come forward, hugging him while Chim and Hen continue to bicker. "Happy birthday, Eddie."

"There's cake out back," Bobby adds, a dozen hugs later, when Eddie is feeling warmer than he has all day. 

"Cake!" Jee-Yun yells, making her priorities clear, and Eddie can't fault her. 

He ruffles her dark hair and smiles when she giggles. "Let's go."

Somewhere between the living room and the backyard, Buck's hand finds Eddie's. 

"So? Was it a good surprise?"

Eddie exhales a grateful breath and leans in to kiss his temple. "Don't do that again. I was worried."

"Sorry," Buck mutters, and he sounds like he means it, and Eddie loves him. 

"But yes," Eddie adds. "It was a good surprise."

Buck lights up as the guilt melts away, and he raises Eddie's hand to his mouth and brushes his lips across Eddie's knuckles. "I love you."

"I love you more."

"It's your birthday. So I guess I'll let you get away with that."

"Damn right you will," Eddie says, and tugs him through the backdoor into the bright morning. "Come on. I've heard there's cake."

[tobiasdrake]

That introspection on magic addiction is really insightful. Personally, my favorite addiction metaphor is the Venom Symbiote, especially in the Spider-Man 2 video game. It's really neat to see how Harry as Venom is basically the equivalent of being so drugged up that you practically become a different person

Oh man, the Venom Symbiote is so across-the-board in portrayals.

I love Marvel symbiotes. That was my favorite powerset as a kid. A superpower that is also your costume but is also a sentient partner who loves and cherishes you and is with you always.

I was a lonely kid who didn't have a lot of friends; That's my fault, nobody wanted to be friends with a paranoid bully with a victim complex and a growing sense of misogynistic entitlement. Can't imagine why. So I liked to fantasize about what it would be like to have a symbiote, who would make me super powerful and also be my best friend.

Cletus Kasady and the Carnage symbiote are absolute monsters but they're also really sweet together. Depending on the writer, of course, but Carnage is at his best when writers remember that the distinguishing thing about him over Venom is that Kasady and his symbiote are a fully-bonded match made in Hell. They have what Venom wants but struggles to get because interpersonal relationships are hard.

Venom is a character the writers go back and forth on a lot. Like, IIRC the original reason why Spider-Man got rid of the symbiote was because being attached to a living thing is icky. Reed Richards was like "That suit is alive," and Spidey went "OH FUCK NO GET IT OFF". I don't know. I might be misremembering that.

But that's kind of a bad look so writers instead play it up as a wicked parasite that feeds on pure evilness and turns its host cruel and vicious. Which goes a bit too far the other direction because now you've erased the nuance of symbiote characters. Venom has a long and storied history of being an antihero, just as much as he has of being a villain.

That's a side of the character you can't really get from "The Evilness Suit made of concentrated evil turns Venom evil, and now he can only ever be evil so long as he's wearing the evil substance." It always makes me sad when adaptations malign symbiotes as wholly and intrinsically vile.

Of course, I have no idea what's even going on with them anymore. They're like space gods made of pure goodness or some shit now. I think Carnage became Cthulhu at some point? Comics are weird. But going by what they were in the 90's and early 00's, I was a big fan.

[nobodylikety]

Cat hybrid! Haerin 🐈‍⬛

As I previously said, I was thinking a lot between Cat hybrid! Haerin and Hamster hybrid! Haerin, so I finally made both versions! 🐾 ps: Cat hybrid! Haerin is an alternative version of Hamster hybrid! Haerin, so there may be differences in between both versions.

tags: cat hybrid!Haerin x gn!reader??, fluff, hybrid AU.

Cat hybrid!Haerin has black cat energy, she basically doesn't like anyone but you and the rest of Hybrid! New Jeans (although she teases Danielle a lot, calling her 'stinky puppy').

+ like all cats, she has limits and doesn't let anyone pet her, hissing with a frown. But when you're close? She is 1000% clingy!! She's basically all over you, flopping down on top of you and totally eager to receive affection and attention from her favorite people.

Cat hybrid!Haerin is totally a grumpy lap cat 24/7.

Cat hybrid!Haerin although has this 'tsundere' or grumpy aura, she is secretly and adorably cocky because she knows that you and the rest of Hybrid! New Jeans are interested in her and only her <3

Cat hybrid!Haerin is a living heater and purrs a lot! has the habit of climbing on the couch and placing her head in your lap, purring very loudly. adorably loudly.

Cat hybrid!Haerin, inside Hybrid! New Jeans is probably the most jealous, since since she only likes this certain group of people (which includes you), so she tends to get very protective and possessive. So watch out, this kitten is capable of taking out her claws to defend what it's hers!

Cat hybrid!Haerin climbs very high places, usually perches on shelves and observes everything from below. It gave you more than one scare because you couldn't find her anywhere, until you heard a 'meow' over your head, and found her poking her head out from where she was hiding!

Cat hybrid!Haerin SCRATCHES ALMOST EVERYTHING. but a cat scratcher? Nah. your sofa? Totally yes.

Cat hybrid!Haerin probably has teasing as love language 🐈‍⬛ You will easily notice when she is sad or affected by something, because she does not use the snarky nicknames she has for each of you.

Cat hybrid!Haerin throws things off the table, or off any surface within reach ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ #TypicalCatBehaviour.

"Haerin, not my coffee mug!" You squealed, seeing that your hybrid cat, early in the morning, had climbed onto the desk and was idly throwing your pencils, post-its, and everything her paws could reach, onto the floor. Meanwhile, you tried to return everything to its original place.

"Bleh, I'm not going to do anything to your stupid moffee cug" Haerin clicked, tossing another pencil off the desk, her ears perked up. It was an eternal loop of throwing stuff and collecting them, throwing and collecting.

"Coffee mug, Haerin. Coffee mug".  

Haerin clicked her tongue again, rolling her eyes.

"You are excessively dramatic."

"And you are excessively disastrous."

"Ugh, remind me why I let you adopt me," Haerin snorted, getting down to the end of the desk, to stalk you while walking in circles, like a predator its prey.

"You made those big, pleading eyes that you make when you want something, and I had no choice but to take you with me." Your voice was gentle, unfazed, though your expression was the antithesis of it. Your smile was teasing, denoting that this was nothing more than a joke, and that your tone of voice was only to make Haerin fall into your game. Because yes, after all, adopting Haerin had been your decision, and there was nothing in the world that you regretted.

Haerin snorted in response, although far from being bothered, she rubbed her head against your back, which felt soft and plush from the hoodie you were wearing.

If it had been someone else who was there with her, and not you, Haerin's typically tsundere personality would have led her to bite and scratch to the point of exhaustion. However, instead, she just wrapped her arms around your waist, grunting, until she sniffed your scent, inhaling it carefully and deeply. That relaxed her.

"You're an Idiot." She hissed.

"Yeah, I love you too, Haerin."

[mamawasatesttube]

So i was just rotating your "Jack drake lives au" in my mind and at the same time remembered those panels of superman shaking hands with Some Fucking Guy (i think he was being a bitch to Lois or smth) and he makes direct unflinching eye contact with the tight lipped smile and his grip is a little too tight to be friendly

Anyways im not saying he hates Jack but i do think Kon off-handedly mentioned the "joke" about his nail polish and Clark went "oh really now?" And didnt forget

So rip Jack at that family dinner night bc not only is Lois waiting for an excuse to obliterate him but Clark is right there with her and if jack thinks that Good Ol Country folk Ma and Pa will back him up then hes in for a surprise lol

oh yeah absolutely!!!! the thing is. literally Nobody likes jack in this au ksjdhfkd like kon and dick absolutely have texted each other to bitch about him, ma openly shakes her head when she hears about how he treats tim (and she WILL speak her mind if he ever tries to shut that sweet boy down in front of her!), cass literally won't speak to him bc he failed the vibe check so bad, etc...

and like. no one is telling tim this. they Know it'll make him feel like he has to defend his dad bc he loves him! but sometimes tim mentions oh he can't join for games this friday night, he and his dad are going on an early morning fishing trip. and cass just meets kon's eyes across the room behind tim's back and rolls her eyes so hard.

but yeah. clark will mostly let lois handle the obliteration with ma's backup as needed bc he knows she's got this. his form of expressing his severe disapproval of jack, his views, and his parenting? supporting tim. thanking him for doing the dishes after dinner, praising his work ethic, ruffling his hair and telling him he did a great job with that case he wrapped up last week, etc. it makes tim go "!!! :D!!!" like that pic of the cat getting patted. tim has always craved approval and affirmation and affection from people around him and he gets it in spades from the kents. and jack sees his son light up and open up around these people way more than he does with him. it's not a good feeling.

it's just tough bc like, tim doesn't want anyone getting mad at jack. but the idea of anyone getting mad at jack on his behalf is also just such a shock to him. he's not used to that. he feels like he has to manage jack and be responsible for him in a lot of ways (if jack says something shitty in front of lois, tim cringes because now jack is gonna get his ass handed to him and feel humiliated, and that's his dad and he was trying to help, and also he feels like it's on him that his dad is being like that. why? oh you know.) (its the unnamed emotional abuse, thats why.)

but also clark and kon watch lois ask tim how his degree is going now that he's in engineering school, and lightly rib him and ask if she can't poach him into investigative journalism instead, because she doesn't usually take interns but she'd make an exception! and tim cocks his head like a dog and says well, maaaybe he'd be down to consider an internship if she's serious? it does sound cool. what are the details? and jack, who barely gets more than one-word answers when he talks to tim about his future, is just kinda seething. heart rate goin up bc hes mad. and kon and clark just exchange extremely amused glances across the kitchen and sip their hot chocolates.

like the tim and jack dynamic is complicated; it'd be a lot easier if the love wasn't so real but it is present. its just that jack is soooo emotionally immature and grounded in Classic American Manhood and ideas of fatherhood. and the fact that tim is growing beyond that and not fitting in the mold he's "supposed" to eats at him. its a tragedy but also we are all pointing and laughing at jack every time superfam make him grind his teeth.