#and one of them was like a Classic coding question

[lucidrmss]

extra credit. I 3.3k armin arlert x reader

cw: 18+ explicit content minors dni, nerdmin x baddie reader, reader insert but no use of y/n, unprotected sex, female pronouns/afab reader, vaginal sex, oral sex, nipple piercing, possessive armin, bit of dirty talk. not all that in the first part tho

summary: No one saw it coming. Not your roommate. Not your on-and-off ex situationship. Not even the judgmental girl with a color-coded planner who’s clearly in love with him.

But somehow, the cardigan-wearing, note-taking, blushy boy wonder of your Comparative Politics class caught your attention. And that’s saying something, because you’re not exactly known for quiet crushes or gentle flirting — being a tattooed, sharp-tongued, braless baddie with a GPA just as high as your standards.

After a sketchy dude corners you at a party, Armin Arlert — the last person you expected — swoops in like a flannel-clad knight in awkward armor. That moment sparks a chaotic, and unexpectedly tender journey involving fake study sessions, thigh tattoos, jealous glances, and one painfully adorable nerd who may or may not be packing more than just a well-organized Google Drive.

Let them stare. Let them whisper. You’re not letting this one go.

notes: this is a repost from ao3 so if feels like you already read this before,, maybe u did,,,, just thought of posting here since tumblr is such a good community and as a reader many of my favorites fics and authors were here sooo.. heres my contribution. also english is not my first language and even tho i already read this so many times if u see a typo lmk. enjoy <33 extra note: i didn't have THAT NERDMIN in mind when i write this back in april but you can imagine him like this here or wtv but keep in mind it's a uni au.

You didn’t expect to end the night by almost punching someone in the throat. You also didn’t expect your knight in shining armor to wear glasses, a flannel, and smell vaguely like peppermint and academic pressure. But hey, life’s full of surprises.

The party is loud, the floor is sticky, and your ass looks amazing in these jeans. You know this because three different girls complimented you in the line for shots, and the guy you passed in the hallway nearly tripped over a beanbag trying to stare at it. Classic.

You're not drunk, not yet, but your buzz is kicking in nicely. Your hair is a little wild, eyeliner perfectly smudged, and your nipples might be piercing the air through your crop top. Not that you care — you didn’t come here to blend in.

"Tell me why the hell we're here again," you shout over the bass, dodging a shirtless freshman swinging a glowstick like he's summoning spirits.

Mikasa, holding her cup like it personally offended her, shrugs. “Connie said Jean might show up. I’m here to watch the drama unfound.”

“I’m not talking to Jean, I'm done with him” you scoff, because you are a woman of growth. Evolution. Maturity — and also because Jean ghosted you last week after asking for nudes. Again.

“Cool,” she says. “Then maybe flirt with someone else for once.”

As if on cue, your eyes wander — and catch on a very out-of-place figure near the kitchen.

Flannel. Glasses. Clean-shaven. Trying so hard to blend in and failing with Olympic-level dedication.

“Is that... Armin?”

Mikasa turns. Blinks. “No fucking way.”

Oh, but yes. It's Armin Arlert. the boy who sits three rows in front of you in Comparative Politics and types like the keyboard owes him money.

Armin who color-codes his notes and once offered you an extra pencil like he didn't get that you haven't brought one on purpose.

Armin who turned beet red when you answered a discussion question and said the word “penetrate” in a completely non-sexual context.

“Who dragged him here?” you ask with a little laugh, already sipping your drink like this is a nature documentary.

“Probably Connie,” Mikasa mutters. “He’s been trying to make Armin ‘social��� for weeks.”

And damn, you have to admit: it’s weirdly... working?

Okay, so the flannel’s still tucked too neatly, and his shoes are definitely orthopedic. But his jawline? Sharp. His hair? A little messy. And when he pushes his glasses up? you hate how hot you find that.

You're staring too long. you know it. Mikasa knows it.

“Oh no,” she says, grinning. “Don’t you dare.”

“Relax. I’m just admiring the academic aesthetic,” you say coolly.

Liar.

Ten minutes later, you’re separated from Mikasa, your drink is empty, and some dude with too much cologne and not enough social awareness is blocking your path to the kitchen.

“You come here a lot?” he asks, his breath hot with tequila and regret.

You smile politely. “Nope.”

“We should change that.”

Oh God.

You try stepping around him. He steps with you.

You’re mid eye-roll, about to hit him with your favorite line ("Do you come with an off switch?"), when a voice cuts in.

"Hey. there you are."

You blink.

The guy blinks.

Armin freaking Arlert slides up beside you like he’s done it a hundred times, placing a gentle but possessive hand on your waist like it belongs there. He turns to the guy with a smile so polite it might be a threat.

“She was looking for me. Thanks, though.”

The guy hesitates. Scowls. But Armin doesn’t budge — and something in those soft blue eyes says do not test me, I read about ancient wars for fun .

Creep backs off. Retreats. Gone.

Silence.

You turn slowly, Armin’s hand drops from your waist like it burned him. His ears are red. His pupils are wide.

“I’m sorry if that was weird,” he says in a rush. “You looked—he looked like—like you weren’t enjoying—uh—I thought—”

“You thought right.” you raise an eyebrow, letting your smirk play out slow. “Nice timing, Arlert.”

He laughs nervously, scratches the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to, uh, interrupt. I was just passing by and—”

“You weren’t interrupting. you were rescuing. Big difference.” your eyes travel over him, curious. He’s still blushing, but something about him is... steady. Calm. Kind.

Maybe you’re still buzzed.

Or maybe you’ve just developed a thing for quiet boys who do the right thing without needing a reward. Either way, your next move surprises even you.

 “So,” you say casually, leaning in just enough for him to smell your perfume — or notice your piercings. “Think you could help me with our next exam?”

He blinks, the song coming from the speakers ends and changes to a summer hit from last year, and the people on the makeshift dance floor cheers loudly.

“I... sure? I mean, yeah. Of course.” you pull your phone from your low-waist jeans, and stares as he types his number on it. shaking.

“Great,” you purr. “I’ll text you.”

And just like that, you turn and walk away, leaving him staring after you like you just recited the Constitution in a bikini.

Mission: Start Nerd Seduction — officially launched.

You don’t actually need help with the midterm. But you do need an excuse to sit across from Armin Arlert while licking the rim of your iced coffee like a menace to society.

so when he texts you back with a “Sure! I’m free Friday afternoon if that works?” you say

> Cool. I’ll bring my notes and wear something distracting.

You don’t expect a reply, and definitely don’t expect the little three-dot typing bubble to linger for two full minutes before he hits you with:

>Armin: Should I bring a calculator or holy water?

You giggle like a damn schoolgirl and toss your phone across the bed.

God help him. you’re gonna ruin that boy.

On Friday you’re in his room.

His actual dorm room, which smells like pinewood and clean laundry. There are three highlighters on his desk arranged by color, posters from Sci–Fi movies on the walls, little The Hobbits figures on some shelves and you swear the man owns more books than space on furniture to put it on.

“I like your room,” you say, setting down your iced coffee. “Very... untouched virgin energy.”

He pushes his glasses up. “Thanks?”

You’re already sprawling across his desk chair, legs crossed, skirt indecent. You watch his eyes flicker downward, then violently snap back up. Adorable.

“okay,” he says, pulling out a folder. “So, we’re reviewing chapter 5? The political theory section?”

You blink at him.

“Oh, right. Studying.” you lean forward, resting your chin on your palm, giving him your best wide-eyed innocent face.

Armin frowns like you’re a pop quiz he didn’t study for. “...did you even bring your notes?”

“Sure,” you lie, “they’re in my... bra.”

He looks like he might combust on the spot.

“Sorry,” you add sweetly. “too much?”

“Just a bit,” he mutters, already flipping open his book like it’s a shield. You let the moment hang in the air a bit too long — just enough for the tension to crackle — then settle back and pretend to pay attention.

But honestly? you’re watching him more than the textbook.

The way he twirls his pen. The way his voice softens when he explains a concept, you like how he ain't trying to mansplain it like you're actually stupid, just being patient. The way he blushes every time you hum in agreement.

You even catch him peeking at your tattoos when he thinks you’re not looking.

"So...” you say, leaning closer until your thigh brushes his. “Do you always tutor people like this?”

He freezes. “Like what?”

“Alone. In your room.”

His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. “N-no. I mean—no, I don’t. Usually it’s at the library. Or the lab. Or... never mind.”

“Cute,” you tease. “You're nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.”

“You’re literally shaking.”

“I’m fine.”

You pause. Smirk. “Want me to stop?”

He swallows hard. “...no.”

And there it is.

That glimmer. That tiny flash of something underneath the nerves — confidence? Want? Hunger?

You sit back, pretending not to notice your own racing pulse.

The game just got fun.

Ten minutes later, you both keep pretending to read the same paragraph while pretending not to feel the air buzzing between you.

That’s when the door creaks open.

“Yo, Armin—” a high voice cuts in, then stops. “Oh. Hey.”

You turn slowly.

She’s short. She’s wearing a pastel cardigan with two different shades of pink. A cute flower pin on her hair and an adorable smile that is slowly dropping. Terrifying.

“Mina,” Armin says, standing up so fast his chair almost flips. “Hey. sorry, I forgot to text—”

“It’s okay!” she chirps. “I just came to drop off the notes from last week.” Her eyes flick to you. To your skirt. To your thigh against his.

“Oh,” she adds, still trying to smile. “I didn’t know you had company.”

You smile back, a knowing smile while offering your name, “We’re studying.”

Her expression flickers. Just a second. Just enough.

“Nice,” she says. “Well... see you later?” trying to meet Armin’s eyes.

“Yeah,” Armin says, but he's distracted, his eyes trailing to you.

And when the door shuts behind her, he lets out a breath like he forgot how to.

“Friend of yours?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says too fast. “We’ve known each other since orientation.”

“Huh.” You twirl your pen. “She likes you.”

He chokes on air. “What?! No, she—Mina doesn’t—why would you—”

“Because she looked at me like I’m a pop-up ad that gave her computer a virus,” you say, deadpan.

He groans. “She’s just friendly.”

"Mm-hm.” You tilt your head. “You like her?”

Silence.

Then “I don’t know,” he admits. “I guess I never really thought about it.”

Interesting.

Very interesting.

You smile, wider this time. “Good. Because I’m very distracting.”

You do not need this men.

You’re not bored. You’re not lonely. You’ve got enough situationships to form a goddamn Avengers team.

And yet — here you are.

In the library. Again.

Wearing lip gloss and zero academic intention.

Armin’s already at the table when you arrive, notes spread out, glasses sliding down his nose. Like he didn't leave you wanting after last week's study date. You consider greeting him like a normal person. You don’t. Instead, you drop your bag, plop into the chair beside him, and whisper in his ear:

“Miss me?”

He jumps.

“Jesus —” he says your name like a curse, while holding his chest to calm his heart.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

He blinks at you. “I—uh—yeah. I guess.”

You grin. “cute.”

He coughs. You cross your legs, showing off your thigh tattoo. Half the guys at the next table almost fall out of their chairs. Armin doesn’t notice — or he pretends not to — but the flush in his cheeks says otherwise.

“Let’s start with Hobbes today,” he mumbles, eyes glued to his page. “You read the assigned chapters, right?”

“Define ‘read’.”

Armin eyes you, saying your name almost in a reprimand way.

“Relax, I skimmed it.” you pull out a pen. “Ready when you are, Professor.”

You don't absorb much of what he’s saying. Because he’s doing that thing again — the voice drop, the hand gesture, the “lemme explain this real quick” lean-in that gets unreasonably close. And he smells good today. Like fresh laundry and—god—was that vanilla?

You’re not okay.

“So that’s why Hobbes believes in the absolute power of the sovereign,” Armin finishes, looking up. “Make sense?”

You’re not sure what Hobbes believes in, but you do believe in Armin ruining your life. You nod.

He beams. “See? You’re better at this than you think.”

Oh. That smile. That pure smile. like he hasn’t noticed the chaos you’ve been trying to throw at him for days. Like he doesn’t know half the campus is whispering:

“Why is Armin Arlert hanging out with her?

“Did she lose a bet?”

“No way he could ever handle her.”

They don’t know that Armin looked you in the eye last Tuesday, tilt his head and said, “You should really stop doing that if you want me to focus.”

They don’t know that you’re starting to forget what flirting is supposed to feel like. Because this? This is more dangerous than your usual games.

And just when you’re about to lean in and say something stupid, like — you’ve got really nice hands – a familiar voice interrupts:

“Hey, Armin!”

You turn. of course it’s Mina.

Carrying two matcha lattes and an entire Pinterest board’s worth of optimism. she slides into the seat on Armin’s other side, all teeth and pastel and absolutely no shame.

“I brought you a drink,” she says, ignoring your existence completely.

“Oh—thanks,” Armin replies, startled. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” she chirps, and finally glances at you. “Hi”

You nod. “Mina.” A pause. You sip your coffee. She sips her matcha. Armin is sweating.

“So,” Mina says to him, voice syrup-sweet, “did you want to study together for the ethics quiz? We could—”

“He’s busy,” you say.

Mina blinks. “What?”

“With me,” you finish. Smile. “We’re reviewing Locke next. Very intense stuff.”

Armin opens his mouth. Close it. Prays for death.

“Oh,” Mina says, still smiling. “That’s... cool.”

You keep smiling. You’re both smiling so hard it might shatter the floor beneath you.

“I guess I’ll just see you tomorrow, Armin?” she tries again.

He looks between you. Her. Back to you. “Uh—sure. Yeah.”

When she finally walks away, you lean in close enough for him to smell your lip gloss.

“She’s in love with you.”

He rubs his face. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” you sing. “You could totally date her. She’s your type.”

He glances at you, then looks away. “You don’t know my type.”

“Don’t I?” You raise an eyebrow.

He hesitates. Swallows. look at you again. You hold the eye contact longer than necessary. Long enough to make him shift in his seat.

“I don’t think I like being studied,” he says softly.

“Then stop looking so interesting.”

—

On the weekend y'all at Jean’s apartment. Pizza boxes. Open textbooks. A Mario Kart tournament threatening to break a friendship or five.

Armin’s sitting on the floor, controller in hand. You’re on the couch, shamelessly watching him. the others are deep in a debate about which professor might be an alien, but you’re focused on the way Armin mutters when he loses a round.

“fuck,” he breathes under his breath. You almost drop your drink.

He catches you looking. smirks—just a little. and that is the moment you realize you’re in serious trouble.

because this boy? This nerd? With his quiet voice and his chaotic notes and his tragic sweaters? He might actually break your heart.

And worse — you might let him.

——

It's all fun and games until you start to have dreams about him. some very inappropriate dreams. involving library desks, a cardigan hitting the floor, and Armin’s voice in your ear saying “you asked for this study session.”

You always wake up hot and wet.

It’s barely 7 AM. You have a lecture in two hours. But your first conscious thought is ‘that mouth should be illegal’. Your second is to get it together. And your third?

You need to see him.

So you don’t bother with makeup. don't bother styling your hair. You pull on black sweats and a leather jacket and stomp onto campus with last night’s eyeliner and an agenda that has nothing to do with academic excellence.

Armin’s already at the student café, as usual — surrounded by books, headphones on, hoodie halfway swallowing his neck. He doesn’t notice you until you slide into the seat across from him.

“You look like you haven’t slept,” he says, blinking.

“That’s because I haven’t.” You point at your face. “Notice the sexy eye bags.”

Armin chuckles, soft and genuine. “You always show up like this?”

“Only for the people I’m trying to corrupt.”

He pauses. “So… just me?”

"Yup.”

There’s a flicker behind his glasses. You think it might be nerves. Or something darker.

You want to poke it. You will poke it.

“So,” you continue. “Tell me something nerdy.”

“...What?”

“Make me smarter. Ruin my street cred.”

Armin leans back. “Okay. Did you know sea otters hold hands when they sleep so they don’t drift apart?”

Your heart makes a weird thump. “That’s… aggressively adorable.”

“And that an octopus has three hearts and blue blood?”

“wait, for real?”

“Yeah.” He tilts his head. “Still feel like corrupting me?”

You grin. “Oh, absolutely.”

It’s raining. There’s only one couch cushion between you and Armin. Your Netflix “study break” has now turned into a two-hour true crime documentary, and at least once every ten minutes you feel his thigh shift next to yours.

Your laptop is open. Your notes are not.

Armin stretches, arms over his head, shirt riding up just enough to expose that his damn V line. The one that’s haunted your sleep since last week.

You don’t mean to stare.

You just… don’t not stare.

And Armin sees it.

He lowers his arms, clears his throat, then glances sideways at you. “You keep looking at me.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe I’m studying your anatomy.”

He says your name in a soft breath of warning, with big eyes, dilated pupils, lips parted.

You shift to face him. He’s closer than you thought. Close enough that the space between you feels like static — thick with unsaid things and half-bitten thoughts.

You should back off. You should laugh it off.

You don’t.

Instead, you whisper, “You ever think about kissing me?”

The silence stretches.

“Yes.” It’s so quiet you almost miss it. But it’s there.

“Yes?” you echo.

He meets your gaze. Doesn’t blink. Doesn’t back down. “I’ve thought about it a lot.”

The air pulls tight between you. His lips are right there. He’s right there.

Your hand twitches, like maybe you’ll touch his cheek. Like maybe you’ll grab his collar and ruin every rule you’ve ever set for yourself. Because your mouth is five inches from his and it’s raining outside and—

A knock.

You jolt back like you’ve been slapped. Armin jumps up, flustered, knocking over a cup of pens. then race to the door before the moment can catch up to you.

“Oh, hey!” a feminine voice says too loudly. a voice you know well. How the fuck she always knows when you two are together. Mina has a fucking six senth for cock blocking or something? “I—I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop your USB from the group project. I checked and it has all the lecture slides on it— you left it in the lab.”

Armin takes it with a shaking smile, you could see how red he is from the couch. “Oh! Cool. Thanks.”

She peers around, eyes narrowing. “Is she here?”

“Yes.”

“Studying?”

Your eyes meet and you hold her gaze, while grinning “Eventually.”

she blushes and apologizes, giving Armin a rushed and tiny ‘goodbye’.

The blonde man closes the door with a sigh, and when he comes back to the couch, pretending like nothing almost happened, you start to think the universe is actually laughing at you.

Why can't you make out with your nerdy man in peace?

——

Later that night you’re alone again, lying on your bed, phone face-up beside you. You keep replaying his voice.

“I’ve thought about it a lot.”

You don’t sleep well.

And neither does he.

Because two blocks away, Armin is staring at his ceiling, hand in his hair, wondering how close he came to losing control — to kissing the girl with stormcloud eyes and tattooed skin and a laugh that lives rent-free in his skull.

The girl nobody thinks would ever want him.

Except maybe — she does.

part II>

[cressidagrey]

Building Blocks

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Felicity Leong-Piastri (Original Character)

Summary: How to parent a genius: A guide by Oscar Piastri.

Notes: Because I felt like it was very mean to just give you "half" a new piece of writing, with an edited version, here you have some fluff!

(divider thanks to @saradika-graphics )

Oscar had long since accepted that he was raising a genius.

It wasn’t the kind of genius that screamed for attention or rattled off multiplication tables at age two (though she could, and did, if she was annoyed enough). No, Bee’s genius was different—patient, precise, methodical in a way that sometimes made Oscar forget she was still learning how to tie her shoes consistently.

At the moment, she was halfway through assembling the LEGO® Technic Ferrari Daytona SP3—3,778 pieces, ages 18+, and she was building it upside down just for fun.

Oscar had found it complicated enough to need a YouTube tutorial and was now trying to attach one very specific connector piece. It was not going well.

“Papa,” Bee said gently, not even looking up from her own section, “that axle doesn’t go there. It’s a two-length, and you’re using a three. That’s why the gearbox won’t sit flat.”

Oscar blinked. “How do you see that?”

She shrugged. “I counted the ridges.”

Of course she had.

He changed the piece, and—miraculously—it clicked into place.

They were seated on the living room rug, surrounded by plastic trays of sorted bricks and half-finished subassemblies. 

Oscar had tried giving her a kid’s set once this year. Something with animals. She’d built it in seven minutes, asked him if it was a prank, and requested the Lamborghini Sián FKP 37 next.

He looked at her now—curled over her build instructions, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration, tiny fingers moving with frightening efficiency—and wondered, not for the first time:

How do you race a kid like this?

Not race in the literal sense.

 Race in the life sense.

How do you raise someone who could probably code her way into a Mars rover before she loses her first tooth?

 How do you parent brilliance?

Oscar loved her completely. That part was easy.

 But raising her… it sometimes felt like trying to build IKEA furniture with the instructions written in Latin while she translated them into quantum theory beside you.

When Bee was two, he’d brought home a simple Lego castle. The 5+ kind. Pink turrets. Smiling bricks. It had taken her twenty-four minutes. No instructions. One correction.

They moved to the 10+ sets after that. Then 12+. 16+.

Now they didn’t bother with age labels. If it didn’t come with multiple gear assemblies and at least two bags of axles, she got bored.

He leaned back, stretching out his legs as she sorted bricks with the focus of someone solving a global crisis. Her curls were pulled back in a lopsided ponytail, and she was humming to herself—some hybrid of Beethoven and the Paw Patrol theme. A mix of classical and chaos. Just like her.

And Oscar found himself smiling.

 “Do you think you’ll want to build real cars one day?”

Bee paused. Thought. “Maybe. Maybe I’ll restore cars like Mama does. I like knowing why something works. Why people make the choices they do.” She looked up at him. “I like your choices.”

Oscar’s heart stuttered in his chest.

“You do?”

She nodded. “You always come home. Even when you go far.”

He swallowed. 

Bee smiled, then reached for another piece, her tiny hands precise. “Mama said you have to go race soon.”

“Yeah. In Japan.”

She nodded. “Don’t forget my shirt.”

Oscar smiled, eyes crinkling. “Never.”

They worked in silence for a while. The only sounds were the click of Lego pieces and the distant hum of the dishwasher.

Oscar watched her move—steady, focused, brilliant. She didn’t fidget. Didn’t question herself. She just knew what she wanted to build and made it happen.

He was raising a genius.

 And not just the kind with facts in her head—though there were plenty. She had empathy. Precision. Curiosity.

And she scared the hell out of him.

 In the best way.

The thing was, Bee wasn’t just smart. Lots of kids were smart. Bee was something else entirely. Curious in a way that never stopped. Observant in ways that made you feel like she could see under your skin if she tilted her head right.

She didn’t just memorize—she understood.

She asked how DRS worked when she was two and followed up with, “But doesn’t that affect battery deployment?”

She once looked at telemetry on Oscar’s laptop and said, “Why are you lifting before Turn 9 now?” and then told him why when he didn’t answer fast enough.

And somehow, she still wanted him to sit beside her while she built things. Still curled up under his arm during movie night. Still called him Papa like it was magic.

Oscar ran a hand through his hair, watching her snap together a section of bricks like she'd been born doing it.

“How’d you get so smart?” he asked softly.

Bee didn’t even pause. “Because you and Mama never make me feel weird for asking questions.”

Oscar blinked. His throat tightened.

“You don’t get mad when I want to read the building manual instead of the storybook,” she continued, turning the model gently to check the incline. “And Mama says it’s okay to love logic and glitter.”

Oscar nodded slowly, words caught somewhere between pride and awe.

He watched her now, slotting in a gear mechanism with tiny fingers and utter focus, her brow furrowed like a seasoned engineer.

How do you raise a kid who’s already looking three steps ahead?

Who watches a race and times pit stops with a stopwatch app she downloaded herself?

 Who reads two books a week and corrects the science in children's cartoons?

You don’t try to match her, Oscar thought.

You just show up.

You sit on the floor and sort the bricks. You listen when she talks about dolphins and binary code in the same breath. You answer every question, no matter how bizarre. You fold the shirts. You build the drawer. You take her seriously, because she always takes you seriously.

“Papa?”

Oscar looked up. “Yeah?”

Bee held up a completed axle assembly, expression bright. “Do you want to click this piece into place?”

He smiled. “Will you judge me if I get it wrong again?”

“Only a little.”

“Deal.”

He snapped the piece in. She double-checked it, nodded solemnly, and handed him the next one.

Oscar didn’t know how to raise a genius.

But he was learning how to build with one.

 Moment by moment.

 Brick by brick.

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

“My little love,Mama’s got a lot to learn.”

Batboys x single mum reader

My little love by Adele makes me cry every time now that i have kid.Because what if im doing this all wrong.Buttt enjoy!

Bruce Wayne

• At first, Bruce is hesitant — not about you, but about whether he could be a good father figure for your child.

• Once he commits, he commits. He’s suddenly funding your child’s education, upgrading their stroller to a literal tank and reading parenting books at 3AM.

• Surprisingly good at bedtime stories — his deep voice makes fairy tales sound like epic adventures.

• He sometimes slips and calls your kid “ours.” You pretend not to notice, but your heart definitely does.

⸻

Dick Grayson

• Dick loves kids — he’s the type to immediately crouch down to their level and ask their name.

• He’s the fun “stepdad” type — trampoline parks, baking cookies (he burns them), and choreographed dance parties.

• Teaches your kid acrobatics and ends up making them his little sidekick-in-training.

• Loves you fiercely and constantly reassures you that you’re not in this alone anymore.

⸻

Jason Todd

• Jason is surprisingly protective — he softens a lot around your child, even if he still gives off a rough exterior to the world.

• Reads your kid classic literature and gritty detective novels — he says they need “culture,” but he skips the violent parts.

• Carries juice boxes in his jacket like he’s carrying ammo. Snacks on one side, weapons on the other.

• He never talks about being a good role model, but shows up for every school event and parent-teacher conference without fail.

⸻

Tim Drake

• Tim overthinks everything — he googled “how to bond with children” the minute he found out you were a single mum.

• Gets overwhelmed at first but eventually becomes your kid’s favorite nerdy uncle-type. Teaches them coding, chess, and gives them supervised access to the Batcomputer.

• Sleep-deprived bonding moments — your child once woke up from a nightmare and found Tim already awake researching ways to help.

• You once caught them both asleep in front of a monitor, drooling onto a pile of LEGOs and snack wrappers.

Damian Wayne (Angsty Edition)

• When you first meet, Damian is distant. He’s polite — in that blunt, vaguely condescending way — but he keeps emotional distance from both you and your child.

• It’s not personal. He’s terrified of failing. Of becoming like his mother. Of inheriting the worst of both legacies and ruining a child that isn’t even his.

• He watches from the sidelines — his expression unreadable as your child laughs, clutches your hand, calls out to him with easy affection. Something tightens in his chest every time.

• One day, your child gets hurt. Not seriously — just a scraped knee, a tumble. But Damian’s reaction is instant and furious — with himself. He cradles them gently, whispering in Arabic, not realizing he’s shaking.

• He tries to push you away afterward. “They deserve someone better,” he says. “You both do.”

• But your child draws him a picture of “Dami, Mum, and me.” It’s crudely drawn — your child has given him a sword and a heart.

• He keeps the drawing folded in his wallet. No one knows it’s there.

• Damian doesn’t say “I love you” easily — but he shows it in quiet acts. Fixing your child’s broken toy with surgical precision. Standing watch outside their door during storms. Holding you in the quiet moments and asking, “Are you sure you want this? Me?”

• He eventually starts calling your child “my son” or “my daughter.” Quietly. Fiercely. As if daring the world to question it.

[womanofwords]

Everybody's Favourite (Part 1)

Everything turned upside-down when the principal pulled you out of class when you were seven years old. You'd been colouring nicely when she came in.

"Y/N, I'd like to talk to you," she said. "Could you come with me?"

"Have I done something wrong?" you asked.

"No, dear. Just get your stuff."

You collected your things and went with her, where a police officer was waiting. "Here's Y/N, officer," she said to him. That was when you learned, in a haze of horror, that your dear mother had died while you were colouring in class without a care in the world. Car accident.

"Not to worry, she made arrangements as to who would look after you in the event of this happening," the police officer said. "Your biological father . . . Bruce Wayne."

So off you went to your new home, away from your friends and old neighbourhood and everything you'd ever known, and towards the figure known as Bruce Wayne.

The first thing you noticed about your father was that he was, obviously, very rich. All his cars were the fancy ones you used to stare at with your mom when you would walk together.

When you arrived, you had all sorts of questions for your father. "How did you meet my mother? Why didn't you talk to me before this? Did you like spending time with her?"

"I'm rather busy, Y/N. I'll show you to your room," Bruce said, escorting you to a guest bedroom. "We can decorate it later."

Later never came.

After a few weeks, you met his other kids, Dick, Jason, Tim, Barbara, Cass, and Stephanie. They all looked so cool, like teenagers from a movie. But they always had to 'do stuff'.

"What kind of stuff?" you asked.

"They're a part of scholarships for gifted students," Bruce said, before any of them could say anything. "I happen to be privately tutoring them."

"Oh. So you spend time with them because they're talented?"

"You could put it that way."

That revelation lit a fire underneath you. If your father wanted talented kids, then you would have to be a talented kid.

In everything you could get your hands on.

You became a polyglot, devouring different languages like nobody's business. You took part in gymnastics, just like Dick, and also track. You got straight As in everything, forcing yourself to study night after night. You read the same classic books Jason loved so you could (hopefully) have something to bond with him over. You took some coding classes so you had something to talk about with Tim.

Alfred became a consistent source of comfort, bringing you food and making sure that you didn't over work yourself. He came to every event you had, loyally videotaping it for future viewing.

Nobody cared to look at the tapes. Nobody watched you collect your awards for fastest times, or graduate early as valedictorian. Nobody listened to your headmaster sing your praises as he listed your various scholastic accomplishments.

Damian was the worst. The moment he met you, it was clear that he would hate you until he died. He looked at you with such disgust, such contempt for your existence. Once, he cornered you with a katana that he held so close to your neck that you were cut. Another time, he sicced Titus onto you, leading to a nasty bite mark on your arms when you put them up to defend yourself.

"Titus mauling you would have been an improvement to the Wayne bloodline," he sneered, as you bawled your eyes out. "When are you going to get it through your simple-minded skull that we don't care what happens to you? It's annoying to hear you chatter to us and make conversation about being head of your class and breaking sports records. We all scoff about it when we're on patrol."

Your throat went dry. "Patrol?"

"Of course. Father, Dick, Jason, Stephanie, and myself all have our own alter egos. I am by my father's side cleaning the streets of scumbags as Batman and Robin while you are trying to be top of your stupid little class." He punched you in the stomach, hard. "Honestly, it's a relief to get away from you and your nauseating neediness."

Alfred came to console you after the fact, but he wouldn't hear a word against Damian for hurting you, or Bruce for letting it happen. "Master Damian has had a . . . difficult life, Y/N," he said. "And Bruce's childhood was by no means easy."

You gave up on your family after that. Nobody really wanted you, and Damian actively hated you.

You were nobody's favourite.

Part 1 <- You are here

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

[askssgenerations]

[ASKS ARE OPEN] - ON TEMP HIATUS

Current Asks: ~150

I’ll do my best to answer all of the questions! But please note I might pick and choose depending on what’s best for the story!! Don’t worry if I haven’t done yours yet, I’ll circle back to try and hit everything eventually!

—————

[START HERE]

[Playlist]

Welcome to S.S. Generations! Where 2 weeks after the events of the Eclipse Cannon, Sonic and Shadow fall into a new dimension called “White Space”. They also meet their counterparts from various dimensions. Follow them as they all search for a way out!

However, those who’ve been to White Space before are questioning why it’s so empty. It’s almost entirely blank, with no past, present, or future events to ground them. How are they going to get out if there’s no memories to go off of?

—————

Meet The Cast!

Sonic’s Version

Cont. ⤵️

Frontiers -> Cyber

- Doesn’t have a Shadow counter-part

- Pretty quiet and keeps to himself, which is pretty weird for a Sonic(?)

- Has strange cyber-related powers, possibly related to his glitchy appearance

- Seems to be in pain, but waves off any concern

Sonic X Shadow Generations

Modern -> Guide

- Calls himself everyone’s guide through White Space

- Still petty about having his birthday party interrupted, teases his Shadow to do stuff for him because he’s still the ‘birthday boy’

- Very laid back due to the peacefulness compared to the last time he was in White Space

Classic -> Mini-Me/Classic

- mostly follows around his older counterpart!

- doesn’t talk but is very content to zip around and show his feelings through body language

Movie -> Socks

- Once realizing everyone was giving themselves code names, he immediately went for Blue Justice. Or Speed, to reference his greatest strengths and one of the greatest movies ever made.

- Unfortunately, both ideas were shot down and he was dubbed Socks due to his lack of shoes compared to well, literally everyone else

- Is very, very glad to see his Shadow alive

Boom -> Blur

- Names himself after one of his brother’s old code names for him

- Very snarky compared to the others, and is the least concerned with getting home

- Noticeably on the worst terms with his Shadow

Prime -> Paradox/Prism

- Tried to get matching nicknames with his Shadow but was rejected

- Unlike the others, he thinks that he’s the ‘real’ Sonic and everyone else is a shatterverse version of him

—————

Shadow’s Version

SatBK -> Sir Lancelot

- He’s hiding something.

- Notices Cyber’s deteriorating condition the fastest

Sonic x Shadow Generations -> Prince

- On weirdly good terms with his Sonic

- Is it a part of growing up? Or something else

Movie -> Eclispe

- Socks had more names for Shadow than himself

- But all other options, like Hello/Emo Kitty, Akira, Tokyo Drift, National Treasure, etc. were vetoed

- Shadow settles on Eclipse, to remind himself of his past decisions and their consequences

Boom -> Grumpy

- asshole

- Calls himself ‘Ultimate’ but dubbed Grumpy by the majority

- Very very quick to throw down with Blur, in all ways possible

Prime -> Shards/Shatterverse

- Has the same mindset as Paradox/Prism with 10x the paranoia

- Incredibly weary of their counterparts, especially after the incident with Nine

- Stays nearby Paradox/Prism at all times and is searching the hardest for a way to escape

—————

Thanks for reading!! Potentially more characters to come but that’s the cast as of right now! Any asks/suggestions are welcomed!!

​Note: this will probably have shipping!! be warned if that’s not your cup of tea!

[maryychill]

Digimon Adventure Tri: why it's more than you think

Originally posted on Reddit.

I believe Digimon Adventure Tri deserves a more careful, emotionally attuned rereading. I'm not here to claim absolute truth. I just want to share what I understood and felt, hoping this might encourage viewers to see the work through a different lens, especially if they're open to reevaluating it.

Tri isn't broken, it's fractured on purpose

Tri is not a classic sequel. It doesn't try to replicate the adventure spirit of the original series. Instead, it dares to explore a more introspective and emotional space. I've read some people saying that there are many subplots. But if you pay attention, everything that seems scattered is actually tied together by one common thread: the dissonance between who they once were, and who they begin to be when life stops giving easy answers.

I understand that not everyone wants to see their childhood characters grow up. That's valid. Sometimes we'd rather keep them frozen in time, running across the digiworld without ever facing heartbreak or existential crisis.

But Tri proposes something different.

It doesn't ask us to return to who we were, it asks us to acknowledge that we've changed. It shows that heroes can hesitate, that bonds can shift, and that searching for meaning is part of the fight too.

I find it moving that these characters have grown, that they're still evolving, each in their own way. That gives me hope. Because evolving doesn't always look like a flashy transformation. Sometimes it looks like staying, questioning, choosing not to run.

And if this stage doesn't resonate with you, that's okay too. Maybe it wasn't your moment. Or maybe your connection to Adventure lives on a different plane.

The beauty is that nothing takes away what came before or what comes after. It just gains new layers over time.

An emotional, not conventional structure

Tri doesn't talk about an external enemy. It speaks of an internal fracture.

From the very beginning, it tells us:

“Demiurge, the soulless creator... Idea, the true form of the world...”

This isn't just poetic dressing, it's the story's thesis. The Digital World was created as a system, but one that never truly understood the beings it would hold. The infection corrupting digimon isn't just a virus. It's a metaphor, a crack in the digital soul.

Tri doesn't follow the traditional "adventure-enemy-digivolution" formula. Its core conflict often comes in silences, glances, inner contradictions.

What hurts isn't always what happens. Sometimes it's the feelings too complex to name.

Taichi hasn't lost his courage, he's transformed it into responsibility.

Yamato isn't angry for drama's sake, he's frustrated because he doesn't know how to reach Taichi anymore.

Sora doesn't fade, she's depleted from holding everyone together while forgetting how to hold herself.

Joe isn't a coward, he's the first to confront doubt.

Mimi isn't shallow, she's defending her authenticity in a world that tries to mute it.

Koushiro isn't just the genius, he's a child who made logic his shield to avoid emotional collapse.

Takeru isn't just the optimist, his quiet strength is how he doesn't get pulled under by others' pain.

Hikari isn't just light, she's a channel. Her sensitivity connects her to the invisible, but it also makes her deeply vulnerable.

Meiko isn't a mistake, she's the weight of quiet guilt and undeserved blame.

Himekawa isn't a villain, she's a warning, consumed by a love that couldn't let go.

Nishijima isn't a mentor, he's a man who regrets arriving too late.

A symbolic reading of the Digital World

Tri challenges the Digital World's mythology. It introduces concepts like the Demiurge (imperfect creator) and Idea (true essence), pulling from gnostic and platonic philosophy. The infection is not just a digital bug. It's the result of a world built without understanding the emotions that would one day inhabit it.

Distortions in space, corrupted binary code (like the unexplained "2" in a system built on 0 and 1), the merging of realities, and the appearance of soulless replicas like Imperialdramon, none of it is random. It all speaks to a world collapsing from within, not due to external battles.

A quiet story of transformation

At the beginning of this story, Taichi wants to bring everyone back together, but time has passed. They've taken different paths, changed in ways that aren't always compatible. It's not about caring less. It's about learning that closeness sometimes fades without meaning to, and that trying to reclaim it isn't always simple.

A common criticism is that Taichi now hesitates and that this is regression.

Taichi's hesitation isn't fear, it's awareness. A pause. A question: can I still protect, without hurting anyone?

This isn't a contradiction, it's a continuation.

Let’s go back to Adventure:

Episode 16: SkullGreymon emerges from his recklessness

Episode 19: Sora was kidnapped because of him

Episode 45: his leadership fractures the group

Episode 48: we see him doubt and we learn the origin of his guilt, blaming himself for Hikari's near death as a child.

02 never explored that aftermath. The story shifted focus to a new cast. But Tri picks up that thread and now Taichi isn't afraid of danger, he's afraid of causing harm. That’s not cowardice, it's growth.

And in that pause, we glimpse the roots of the future Taichi, who will one day become a diplomat, working for coexistence between humans and digimon.

Yamato doesn't understand the change, and he pushes, hoping to ignite the old spark. But underneath the anger is the fear of losing a connection that once felt unbreakable.

Meanwhile, the Digital World is fracturing.

Not from outside danger, but from the blurring lines between emotion and system, past and present, role and identity.

Soulless Systems

These aren't classic "villains":

Yggdrasill is not an evil mastermind or alien invader. It's a symbolic, near-divine system that governs without empathy. Cold, logical, and utterly disconnected. It never appears because it doesn't need to. Its will is carried out through proxies like Alphamon, corrupted Gennai, and even manipulated humans. Yggdrasill represents the idea of a creator that has lost touch with its creation, a divine absence rather than a presence.

Alphamon is not an enemy. He's an executor without voice or motive. He doesn't speak, doesn't hate, doesn't choose. He deletes threats because that is his function. He is kind of a ghost in armor, a weapon with no soul, following the will of a broken god.

Homeostasis is not the "good side". It's a system that seeks balance. A bodiless, emotionless protocol whose only priority is to restore order when chaos threatens to collapse the Digital World. It doesn't act out of empathy or cruelty, it simply follows its function. It doesn't shift because it changes its mind, but because its compass is not moral, it's systemic. It speaks through vessels (like Hikari) and intervenes not with force, but by rebooting what’s broken to restore balance.

Hackmon / Jesmon is not a friend or foe. He is the system's messenger. He watches from the shadows, especially focused on Meicoomon, whom he perceives as a destabilizing anomaly. But Hackmon doesn't act on feeling. He is the voice of Homeostasis. Its blade. And when observation is no longer enough, he digivolves into Jesmon. But Jesmon is not hope, is protocol. A final measure. He doesn't come to save, he comes to execute.

When the system doesn't grasp the soul

In a world where connections become unpredictable, systems try to fix what they don't understand.

But emotions can't be repaired or deleted with code.

It's there, amidst reboots and algorithms, that the chosen children must decide whether to obey or to choose.

Meicoomon, a rift in the soul

Meicoomon isn't just an infected digimon, she contains Libra, which can't be controlled or regulated.. Her bond with Meiko is the most fragile, yet it's also honest.

Meiko, a chosen child who struggles to understand and bear her role, still chooses to stay. She remains, even when she feels she's the source of the pain, and even when her presence brings discomfort to others.

Libra, the code sealed in the soul

Libra is more than just a virus or a system error. It's an anomaly within the code, a burden sealed within Meicoomon from her origin. Imagine it as a living archive, holding the emotional record of the Digital World before its reboot: light and shadow, order and chaos.

To safeguard this data, it was encrypted inside her, unbeknownst to her and beyond her capacity to handle.

But Meicoomon was not created to carry such a burden. Her sensitivity and natural instability made her vulnerable to that information. It overwhelmed her, turning her into a contradiction of innocence and chaos.

Libra is not her fault. It's the Digital World's doing for putting such a heavy burden on a digimon who simply deserved to exist.

The Reboot: resetting isn't healing

The reboot wasn't a mere narrative whim or an attempt to "fix" the Digital World. It was an emergency measure. The infection had destabilized the system so severely that Homeostasis executed its last resort to restore balance: a complete reset.

This reboot came with an incredibly high cost: the loss of memories, of everything shared between the chosen children and their partners.

It wasn't an act of malice, but one of coldness. A systemic protocol that simply doesn't account for emotions. For Homeostasis, a bond is just another variable in the equation of balance.

Some criticize the reboot for "failing" because Meicoomon remained infected. But that's precisely the point: Libra wasn't a superficial error. It was a deep rift, inscribed in her soul. It wasn't just digital, it was existential. And that can't be erased with a reset. Systems can be rebooted, but the soul cannot.

Yet, even though the reboot failed in its ultimate goal, the most valuable outcome was this: even without memories, without data, without prior programming... the bonds found their way back. Because some connections don't depend on memory. Some encounters transcend code. When the soul recognizes another, it doesn't need reasons. It simply responds.

Tri shows us that some connections can't be explained, they can only be felt. These are the bonds that endure, even through forgetfulness and loss.

And it's within this very mystery, something that completely eludes rigid systems, that the emotional and the intangible begin.

The "canon" isn't broken, the story has layers

The absence of the 02 kids has been one of the most persistent criticisms of Tri. However, from the first episode, their disappearance is presented as a deliberate choice, not an oversight. It's not a case of forgetting or erasing them. It was about narrowing the focus. Also, a narrative void designed to generate uncertainty, and that uncertainty is a key part of the emotional tone the story aims to convey.

Alphamon defeats them off-screen, and while this bothers their fans, it also emphasizes a crucial point: this isn't their story. It's the story of the original chosen children. Of those who are drifting apart and question if they are still the same people. Himekawa deceives them, telling them everything is fine, much like the system watches them silently. This manipulation also reflects an uncomfortable truth: sometimes, we grow up believing everything remains as it was, until it no longer does.

And when Imperialdramon appears in Episode 8 “Determination - Part 4”, it does so as a shadow. Not as the return of a beloved digimon, but as an anomaly. Daisuke and Ken aren't there. There's no digivice, no connection. It's a silent replica that attacks as if the Digital World were projecting a broken memory.

Could the pain of their absence have been explored more deeply? Maybe. But Tri chooses to focus its lens. It doesn't erase or contradict, it simply pauses at a different stage: the stage of those who are present. Those who, without intending to, also somewhat disappeared from themselves.

Perhaps Tri wasn't created to please. Perhaps it was created to make us feel.

Not all errors are failures

Tri isn't perfect. There are narrative moments that could have been more polished, and even the technical aspects of the art could have been refined. Yet, as a whole, it's a work that takes risks and proposes new ideas. It shifts the focus from "what happens" to "what we feel".

And for a series built on emotion and evolution, that might be one of the most natural next steps it could take.

What Tri tells us (if we dare to listen)

Tri shows us that growing up isn't just about leaving things behind, it's about relearning who you are when everything changes.

It shows us that sometimes, bonds break without anyone being at fault.

It reminds us that you can't always save another person, but you can stay, watch, feel, and simply be there.

And above all, Tri makes us realize a powerful truth: that bonds, even if they fade, change, or cause pain, are still what makes life truly meaningful. Because to feel, to doubt, to make mistakes, and to try again with another, that is truly to evolve, and it's absolutely worth it.

Recommendations for a better viewing experience

Divide it into chapters. I know Tri was originally released as OVAs, but you might find it on platforms like Crunchyroll, which divides it into episodes. This makes it easier to digest its emotional pacing.

Watch at least these prequels beforehand: Digimon Adventure, Our War Game and Digimon Adventure 02. Not because they're strictly mandatory, but because I think Tri is in direct conversation with the memories and events of those stories.

Choose the original japanese audio with subtitles. The dubs (especially in english and spanish) often contain significant errors that distort the emotional message. The original japanese voice acting is also rich with subtle nuances.

Avoid external noise. Don't let soulless criticisms or external expectations contaminate your experience. Watch Tri with a clear mind and open heart. Let the story unfold and speak to you, at your own pace, in your own way.

If it helps, approach it as a side story. Think of Tri less as a continuation and more as an exploration of this particular stage in the original Adventure kids' lives.

And if Tri wasn't for you, that's perfectly fine. Don't worry. It doesn't ruin anything, and it doesn't change anything. You can simply choose to omit its existence, or you can enjoy the layers it adds as it leads us toward the epilogue of Adventure 02.

Thanks for reading. If Tri also stirred something within you, offered you comfort, or left you with questions... it's truly wonderful to inhabit that space with you.

[theexaltedbride]

White Rabbit X Human Reader. General headcannons.

-Rabbit gets very anxious when you are gone for more than a few hours. If he's sitting at a table, his fingers will start taping wildly on it as if he were typing out morse code.

-The White Rabbit is a gentleman (when he wants to be...which is most of the time), and its not just for show. He will act like one even in private, offering to hold a door open, push your chair for you, and small gestures which he hopes will make him worthy in your eyes. Though he'd still do it for you even if you weren't a couple.

-Sometimes worries he isn't handsome enough for you, worries about his scars. He's wished he could look better for you several times. Even if you tell him you love him regardless of his looks, he still feels like he could be better, yet the best he can do is to groom his fur and make sure his suits look their best.

-Rabbit first learned to read and write through reading Alice in Wonderland (and admits to you with a blush that he used to think 'Alice' was the word for 'Humans', and asks you not to share that with anyone).

-Rabbit doesn't really have much in the way of money, and is actively planning to raid a jewelry store to steal a wedding ring at some point. He just needs to figure out which one would be the best for you.

-Rabbit's accent sometimes sounds disjointed, and as if he's come from all over the world. This is because he learned to speak like humans from various sources and is still trying to smooth it out with practice. Especially with you!

-Despite his fur, Rabbit does get cold, and always claims you're very warm when pressed against him and will pull you close to him at night to use you as a heated blanket.

-No, he cannot jump super high or handle long falls. Stop asking...yes he can run very fast, yes his stamina is good. It will actually take him a bit to realize you're hinting at his capabilities for strenuous activities not related to missions.

-If you do not know how to protect yourself, he will actively teach you how to do so. Just in case something happens when he's not around to keep you safe, he wants to be sure you have the best chance possible at surviving and escaping.

-Rabbit actively avoids any 'trolley problem' like questions. (IE: "Would you abandon Makaians to save me? Would you kill humans for me?"). They make him very uncomfortable. Deep down he knows he'd do terrible things for you, but is afraid of being a monster in your eyes, of being the kind of demon which makes humans hate Makaians. Because if you ever look at him that way, he'd likely just want to die. So, he avoids and sidesteps those questions as much as he can.

-He likes to sometimes think, if you and he could have a hybrid child of your own...what would they be like? In the end, he decides he doesn't care. As long as they are healthy and happy.

-Actually hates carrots. He'd much prefer to eat a grapefruit because of how fun it is to have that uncomfortable sour sensation on his tongue. You can taste it on his tongue sometimes when you kiss.

-Rabbit does not know how to swim (not enough water on Makai for that), but if you would teach him then he'd be willing to learn, and steal some glances at you in swimwear.

-Rabbit has had dreams about you, and a few nightmares as well. The worst one of them all starts out as a dream influenced by his love of Alice in Wonderland.

It always starts the same, of him and Alice (You in the classic Alice outfit) running happily and chasing each other around until you both reach a tall hedgemaze. At first you are both laughing as you chase him through a hedgemaze, before the light dims and he's hurriedly pulling you by you wrist as they hear the clattering of armor and the Red Queen screaming "Off with their head!" (sometimes its not the the queen, but Darkcom chasing you both).

He runs faster and faster to try and get 'Alice' away from them, only to feel you pulled from his hand, your fingers slipping through his own. He tries to run back through the Hedgemaze, to find you, calls out your name (even shouting it in the real world), but no matter which way he goes, the White Rabbit cannot find his Alice.

As he tries to run after you the hedgemaze turns into kind of tunnel networks one would find in Makai, and he keeps running through the darkness, shouting your name until suddenly waking up. He is panting, in a cold sweat, and longs to hold you the entire night, shaking slightly, and holding you close till the sun rises.

-Rabbit dislikes a lot of modern music, (not because his ears are sensitive, he just doesn't like it) but will half-cringe/half-smile while being stuck in a car with you and listening to what amounts to 'music' in the modern era. However, if you find a good station or song or artist he does enjoy, he will listen to it at every opportunity. This is especially true if you both like it.

-Rabbit once admitted to you that he's actually slightly afraid of the idea of a dentist looking at his teeth, since they aren't actually comparable to those of a human on a 1:1 basis. As such he strives to take good care of them (which is a pain given he does have a sweet tooth). But if he ever genuinely needs a dentist (be it a back alley one, a sympathizer or a Makaian dentist), then he will want you there so he can hold your hand and ignore his fear and pain.

(This is my first try for Rabbit X Reader stuff, hopefully you enjoyed it and can enjoy more as my inspiration hits me and asks me to write more about them.)

[whumpetywhumpwhump]

Maisie's guide to disguised AI

If you've been anywhere near AO3 recently, you've probably encountered AI writing at some point. As somebody who writes for, primarily, the ER fandom (and occasionally the Pitt, too), I've noticed a concerning trend over the last few days: AI-generated fanfiction clogging the tags.

Firstly, I'd like to say that if you ARE posting fics on AO3 that were AI-generated, and you're passing them off as your own, please stop. I know this is not likely to actually resonate with you if this IS you, but on the off-chance that you do see this- please use tags as intended and make it clear that you're using AI.

Secondly, before I go into some AI tells in detail, I want to preface this with a warning- just because you see one or two of these in a fic, there's no guarantee that it was AI-generated. Please approach the matter of flagging fics with care, because the last thing I want is to incite a witch hunt against innocent people just engaging in fandom.

However, when seen in tandem, these signs should act as a warning to think a little more deeply about what you're reading, and ask the question- was this human written?

1. Em-dashes

I'm getting this one out of the way quickly because it's something easily identifiable, but it should by no means discredit a fic on its own. Real people can use em-dashes, but ChatGPT uses them a LOT. Like, a distracting amount. And they're often used in conjunction with...

2. 'Not' qualifiers

ChatGPT doesn't do 'yes, and'. It seems to work off 'no, but' instead (sorry @pagingdoctorcarter , like an AI, I am stealing your phrase here. But I do have the decency to credit, I suppose!).

Take this sentence I've come up with right now:

Carter was so exhausted he was struggling to stand, legs trembling with the strain of keeping him upright.

AI might write something like this (using my own creative license here because I don't want to feed the beast):

Carter was exhausted— not the regular exhaustion that came with twelve hours on his feet. Something deeper. Heavier.

3. Repetitive phrases.

AI is not original, so it can't come up with anything original, of course. This means that it relies on basic phrases it uses over and over and over again e.g 'the kind of (blank) that (blank)'

4. The classic 'concrete noun' + 'abstract noun' combo

For reasons that I can't quite understand, AI adores this. Some humans include this combo in their work, too, but AI does it even more frequently. Some real phrases I've encountered so far include:

"a story about meatballs and betrayal"

"champagne and anxiety soaked into the upholstery"

5. Anachronisms and inaccuracies

This is especially present in a fandom like ER, where most of the time we're writing about the 90s, and this CAN be attributed to genuine human error... but if Carter is repeatedly 'swiping' on his phone screen to open a call, and everyone's always texting... could be AI.

In a similar vein, if someone is shouting 'code blue!' for things that AREN'T cardiac arrest, or mixing up names and even hallucinating random characters- think 'maybe AI'.

6. Short sentences, short paragraphs, short chapters.

AI doesn't have the ability to understand how paragraphs are structured for ease of reading and flow. So it likes short sentences. Snappy sentences.

And not just when the situation suits it. But always.

If there's a hell of a lot of paragraphs, it could be AI. AI doesn't like including many clauses. At all.

7. Generic similes and phrases that don't mean anything at all

This relates to the 'concrete noun + abstract noun combo' but, more generally, AI produces writing that veers away from specifics. It won't often describe places in too much detail, and when it comes to similes, it uses simple, overused ones OR spouts a series of words that are meaningless. If you see an abstract simile in a fic, take a second. Is it abstract because it's complex and has several layers, or is it utterly meaningless?

8. A crazy update schedule

This one is less reliable because it IS possible to bank chapters and then post a lot in one go, but if an author is posting many thousands of words in the span of a few days, consider this a small red flag- especially in conjunction with the other things mentioned. It could mean they're just pumping out AI-generated writing, and this allows them to move far quicker than any human.

9. Overly mushy dialogue

AI is a thief, but it's a happy-go-lucky thief. Characters speak like they stepped straight off Sesame Street at times, lacking any kind of emotional complexity.

10. Awful, awful jokes

AI cannot write jokes. It simply cannot. If you read a joke in a fic that feels Disney-Channel esque but also doesn't make sense at all? It very well could be AI.

For instance:

Nobody talks like this.

Also, note the 'concrete noun + abstract noun' combo again here! (This actually was an AI fic as confirmed by author before deletion, not naming them here): 'gauze and intuition'.

Conclusion

Be vigilant. Don't fall for AI crap and, if you disagree with the concept of AI work clogging AO3 tags, definitely don't leave kudos.

And if you're posting this stuff, yet again I ask you politely, please STOP.

Thank you.

[midnight-in-town]

Classical language and paranormal powers : Anya Forger and Arnold Crowley

Crack theory that I haven't seen anywhere, but I can't get it out of my head since ch95, so here goes.

We've had enough clues across the story so far to understand that there is a link between Anya's past and telepathic powers and her mastering classical language (which is not spoken anymore nowadays, according to Twilight), which recently earned her a stella :

While the nature of the link is still unclear, I can't help but question if Sensei hid other clues about this topic.

More specifically, Anya scored second, a big victory for her, but we eventually even met the kid who scored slightly better than she did in ch 95:

Moreover, he seemed particularly interested in Anya and wanted to meet her, before the dance party gave him the chance to.

Of course, it can be purely mundane kid behavior or just a comical way to annoy Damian, but still, I couldn't help but notice that mainly he, like Anya, has weirdly shaped pointed hair.

Might I even add, he has 3 horns/antennas, while Anya only has 2 (is it why he scored better ?). That's one similarity to two kids scoring well in classical language. Could be coincidental, I hear you.

Even more recently though, Anya and Yor encountered Melinda at a festival, when trying to get a fortune telling for Anya. Melinda shyly explained to Yor that it's a hobby of hers and that she believes in destiny and paranormal activities & powers, like telepathy :

However, Melinda is not super confident in her reading abilities, which is why she's not charging any money for it. But did you notice the name of another fortune teller who seems very accurate and popular, in ch107 ?

That's right : Magical * Crowley

Of course, at this point we don't know at all whether or not Arnold from ch95 is related to this fortune teller. However, I kinda doubt Sensei would mistakenly give the same name to the weird boy who beat Anya in classical language and to a popular fortune teller, when someone like Melinda, of all people, hardcores believes paranormal forces and powers are real.

Melinda who, by the way, is extremely scared of her husband who may have undergone surgery to get telepathic powers at some point.

Last but not least, we also know that fortune telling is likely to be a real thing in this universe, meaning Magical * Crowley's could have actual powers, considering Anya's family already owns a dog, Bond, who can see the future.

TL;DR Arnold Crowley from ch95 may be a kid with a strange power, like Anya is.

What this has to do with them being good at classical language, which is not used anymore nowadays, I don't know**, but I'd bet a few pennies it's going to be plot relevant.

**EDIT : To specify on what I currently imagine, since Anya's powers disappear during the new moon, maybe her powers depend on some kind of emitting/transmitting wavelengths (received by her hair horns/antennas), that could be coded with classical language (since it's not spoken anymore) ? It is a spy manga after all. x)

And if I were Endo-sensei, I'd take it a step further and reveal that she was actually hearing/reading all along people's thoughts in classical language, because that's how her powers were coded. She just doesn't realize it, because she's 4 years old, which is why most of her mistakes during classical language tests were spelling ones.

We shall see later. :) Thanks for reading and happy new year 2025 !

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

Hi! I'm new to your account, but just binged your "I bet on losing dogs" storyline, and I had a question and concept for you? How much is the reader free to interpret? I'm a theater kid, so I like her hobbies. But is there any specific physical traits you're writing for her? I know you mentioned that we were/are chubby, which is cool, but do you imagine any certain features? Because I'm Mexican American with certain features, so I was curious if you had a certain ethnicity set for her besides being half White/Jewish from Bruce being her biological father.

I also had the same question about Tiffany, because I'm currently imagining the Stereotypical All American girl. Kinda got that Disney Channel actress vibe to her. (Physically). I also had this really messed up though of the reader having to spend YEARS trying to keep in touch her mother's culture and such, learning dishes, traditions, going to local festivals by herself, having to learn how to do makeup and hair styles/products that fit her face and hair pattern. No one bothered to help or teach her. But than, suddenly Tiffany starts to steal those "habits", uncaring if they were very personal to the reader. Than everyone in the family suddenly starts to like the Reader's culture and such. (I had this scene in my brain where the Reader walks in on Tiffany is bragging about some music or dish "she" tried out from the Reader's culture, while the family are all happy and curious about it. Even when the Reader tried to introduce it to the family, everyone declined even trying it.)

I see the Reader so "Your Best American Girl" coded by Mitski.

Anyway I just wanted to ramble, bye!

ok so, I'm trying to be as vague as possible bc reader is supposed to be whoever is reading so there's no in depth description or specific height or build (except chubby in the prologue). i feel like i've basically made reader an OC which i hate but personally when I'm reading a fic, I just ignore things if I don't like them or they don't apply to me which is what i suggest yall do!!

the reader's mother is Palestinian/ Venezualan, like my own mom but you can change it if you'd like. it's important to mention that reader does have Bruce's jaw structure and face shape and shares facial features with Damian as well. It's small things like the ears, the roman nose, even the eye shape, point is that every time reader looks in the mirror she can see shadows of Bruce and Damian on her face. it's kinda like the vibe of "like him" by tyler the creator. I'm middle eastern and hispanic so I imagine reader with darker feautures like tan skin, thick brown hair, arched brows and long lashes but it's all up to you!

reader is very confused because while her dad is white, she isn't. she did try to bond with Damian and learn Arabic with him but he shamed her for not knowing and kicked her out his room, literally. she used to be embarrassed of her heritage when she was younger (courtsey of Tiffany calling her a mutt) but as she got older she realized how interesting her culture is.

she wants to learn arabic but has no teachers and it's a pretty hard language to learn if you don't grow up speaking it .she has no sources to help her and most of the time culture and traditions are things you grow up with and are passed down to you from family. her mom used to speak to her in arabic and feed her dates and sandwiches with olive oil and sugar and make her fried plantians so those things are very special to her, they're some of the only details she remembers about her late mother. so yeah reader is very "Your best american girl coded"

You're so on point about Tiffany, she's your classic all American girl. Blonde hair, blue eyes, long tanned legs and a set of pearly whites. she's the kind of white girl to act like she cares about other races but is secretly racist. you know what girls im talking about! and that prompt you sent with the food eats so hard, I have a scene mapped out with that in the upcoming chapters. I rambled too girl!!! you really got me thinking tbh but let me stop and actually write the next chapter.

[booksandabeer]

Celebrating 10 Years of CA:TWS — A Stucky Rec List

Rec list for the CA:TWS 10th Anniversary Event @catws-anniversary (thank you so much for organizing this event! 💙) | Prompt: Memories

10 years, huh? 10 years of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. 10 years of what many—myself included—still consider to be the best MCU movie ever made.

But also 10 years of post-TWS fanfiction. 10 years of Bucky Barnes Recovering and Steve Rogers' Sadness Errands; of Up All Night to Get Bucky and Revenge Road Trips; of Winter Soldier Trauma Umbrellas and Everybody Needing A Goddamn Hug; of Good Bros and Soft Epilogues. 10 years and tens of thousands of Steve/Bucky fics later, here we are.

So, to mark the occasion, let's take a trip down memory lane and celebrate the movie and the stories it inspired: One fic from each year since it all began:

There's really only one rule here: All fics are set before, during, or after the events of CA:TWS and/or reimagine its plot in interesting ways. Naturally, many of the fics on this list are post-TWS canon divergent, but I tried to go for a nice variety of length, genre, and popularity to keep it interesting. Speaking of popularity, this is very much not intended as a round-up of ‘most popular fics of each year’ because—and I say this with all the love and respect in my heart for those stories and their authors—nobody needs a rec list for that, and I believe in spreading the love. Here we go:

Poltergeists by enemyofrome | 17K, T

Author's summary: When the helicarriers blow up and the Winter Soldier goes on the run, he takes Steve with him. He's got a name written in Morse code on the inside of his arm, a ton of questions he doesn't know how to ask, and now, a new handler with absolutely zero sense of self-preservation to contend with. Life is hard. In which Bucky tries to figure out whether he's a human being, Steve does everything he can to keep from losing him again, and there are lots of explosions.

Starting off with one of the best versions of the 'Bucky didn't leave Steve, he took him with him after the Potomac' fics that were (and still are!) so popular post-TWS. This one stands out because of its fantastic beginning, its interesting take on how Bucky was broken and remade into the Winter Soldier, and because it allows both characters to be messy. It's a popular fanon trope that it's Steve who brings out a ruthless, almost vicious streak in Bucky, but here it's emphasized that this is very much a mutual thing. Just like Bucky, who's often afforded the "excuse" of still figuring out how to be a person again, Steve gets to be difficult here—without ever turning him into a stubborn asshole. They're both traumatized, and they're both allowed to show it and to lash out, including at each other. Also, this fic will give you capital-F Feelings about morse codes and apples. Believe me.

sleepwalk back to the battle site by ftmsteverogers | 22K, T

Author's summary: “I’m going to track down every HYDRA agent that’s left,” Bucky says, buckling his gun deftly to his belt. “And then I’m going to kill them.” “Oh,” Steve says. “Come with me?” Bucky asks, dangerous hands tucked into his pockets.

A classic post-TWS fic that picks up right after the movie ends. Equal parts Revenge Roadtrip, Bucky Barnes recovering, and Steve Rogers being in urgent need of a good hug. This starts out intensely melancholic—Steve's despair and helplessness are palpable and there's a scene involving a drinking glass that still brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. Halfway through, the story changes pace and becomes much more action-heavy, but it still manages to allow space for the quiet, intimate moments between Steve and Bucky. They have both become sharp and deadly men, but they're also allowed to be soft with each other. Their coming together feels sweet and inevitable. I also really enjoyed the Steve characterization here. His absolute conviction that Bucky is still Bucky at his very core and always will be, but also his emotional and intellectual flexibility to adapt to this still-new-to-him, changed version of Bucky rang very true to me.   

Surveillance by Sproings, 7K in 2 parts, G

Author's summary: If there are ears everywhere, that means it's somebody's job to listen. I hate my job.

Do you ever think about how SHIELD bugged Steves DC apartment and how horrible that was, but also...you're kind of curious what they might have overheard? Do you ever wonder about the people who listened in on his sad, lonely life? Well, here you go. An outsider POV fic told "through the ears" of an unnamed SHIELD agent assigned to spy on the private life of a man who doesn't really have much of one. The story begins just before IM3 and takes us all the way through the events of CA:TWS and beyond. It's clever, original and told with great empathy for both the subject under surveillance and the person carrying out that surveillance—who increasingly questions its purpose. Here's a small snippet to give you an idea of the fic's style:

He got a phone call, once. He put it on speaker, too, which was very exciting for me at the time. It was from an archivist at the Smithsonian. They seemed really surprised that he answered his own phone calls. The two of them talked for a long time about an exhibit the museum was planning. A very long time. As if one of them was starstruck, and the other was desperate for any kind of human interaction.

What Gets You Through by velleities | 12K, M

Author's summary: For Steve, getting through each day is a process – one he’s currently failing at spectacularly. Feeling out of place in this brave new world, he hopes to find a home in Bucky, and looks for him with everything he’s got. But Bucky doesn’t want to be found, and when he does touch base with Steve, he never sticks around for long. Bucky has embraced the modern age, leaving Steve lagging behind – or so Steve believes, until Bucky shows him otherwise.

This post-TWS fic revolves around five encounters in liminal spaces, and each time Bucky has pieced himself back together again just a little more. Despite their increasingly longer and more honest conversations, and Bucky's incremental progress, he always disappears again, leaving Steve to grapple with his heartbreak. There are quietly gorgeous moments in this fic (the bus and the church in particular were my personal favorites) as well as wonderfully crafted characterizations. Bucky is initially portrayed as somewhat feral in some ways yet surprisingly well-adjusted in others, and I love that Steve can't help but be a little annoyed at that. However, it quickly becomes clear that, in good old Bucky Barnes fashion, much of it is really just a front put up for Steve's benefit...

A Real Boy by itsnotbleak | 5K, T

Author's summary: It took the Winter Soldier three weeks to remember that human beings needed to sleep and eat. It took Steve far too long to realise the Winter Soldier was sleeping in his bed.

A wonderful, short-but-doesn't-feel-like-it fic (in the very best way) set immediately after CA:TWS, in which Bucky secretly and then soon not so secretly visits Steve in his apartment. Follow along as Bucky Barnes argues with his brain about sandwich toppings, the importance of a good night's sleep, and the necessity of personal hygiene. Also: how to best go about becoming a real boy (again). And who the hell is that Bucky guy anway? This is as soft and sweet a Bucky recovery fic as you're ever going to find. It's funny but not silly; sad in a way that all of these stories inherently are—because, well, these are some tragic boys—but not super angsty or depressing. A beautiful story with a lovely, hopeful ending.

Savage God by PottersPink | 36K, M

Author's summary (abbr.): Past, present, future, Steve knows Bucky Barnes. It’s why he recognized him when he found him in that alley in April of 1942, even though Bucky was older, stronger, wearier; he called himself The Asset, and had a metal fucking arm. He flinched when Steve tried to touch him, and when Steve told him he loved him, his first response was to ask why. Seventy years later, Steve wakes up in the twenty-first century, and he doesn’t know whether to be heartbroken or hopeful when some of the things Bucky revealed to him in 1942 start falling into place.

An absolutely riveting AU that will have you on the edge of your seat the whole time. I'm itching to talk about it more but I cannot since it would mean spoiling the hell out of it. What I can say is that it's a very intriguing and clever exploration of what would happen if Steve knew about the future but without really knowing any of the details. How would it change the events of CA:TFA and CA:TWS, and how would it change Steve himself? I so very much appreciate this characterization of Steve as smart, competent, and unwavering with a hefty dose of no fucks left to give. This fic features some really nifty time travel and plotting, great action sequences and a very satisfying ending where certain people get their much-deserved comeuppance. Plus: Bonus Shrinkyclinks (kind of)!

Charlie Lock by seapigeon | 105K, M (hard M)

Author's summary (abbr.): The Winter Soldier knows that sometimes, in order to make the kill, you must destroy what the Target lives for. Steve Rogers knows that he can't fight his captors. If he fights, they'll kill Bucky. But the price of his life is steep. Tony Stark has nothing left to live for, but he's needed. So all these miserable motherfuckers better stay alive, too. Clint Barton never expected to be a leader. But a leader he is, and no one else is going to die on his watch. --- A story in which the first wave of Project Insight succeeds, and the Avengers must pick up the pieces and find a way to stop Hydra from completing its work with Zola's algorithm.

This is not only the longest fic on this list, but also the angstiest one—by a mile, so please heed the tags. It's dark, disturbing, and brutal. However, it is neither relentless misery porn nor is it shocking for shock's sake, where everything is magically forgotten and/or healed the moment Steve and Bucky start kissing. Instead, the author puts these characters into an absolutely horrifying situation and then slowly, gently guides them out of it and into the light.

It's a Stucky fic but it's also a multi-POV ensemble piece featuring all the Avengers and other familiar faces. If you are someone who'll always be a little bitter about the unfulfilled promise of an Avengers found family, then this is for you. In this AU, they do not only fight together, but grow together in every way. They truly become a team, not just co-workers barely tolerating each other. The story takes its time exploring the characters and the group dynamics. Steve and Bucky are definitely at the center of the narrative but there is space here for every member of the team to grieve and adjust to the new reality and to find at least some measure of healing. It's a story about the meaning and the consequences of revenge, about hope and resilience, and about love in all its many forms. It also has one of the most satisfying title drops that will have you pump your fist in triumph when it happens. It's a tough read, but ultimately a very rewarding one.

SPELEVINK by Ginny_Potter | 10K, G

Author's summary: Bucky’s back. He’s leaving me messages through IKEA plushies, Steve texts Sam. jesus christ, rogers, Sam texts back. Or, Bucky lives in an IKEA Tiny Apartment, Steve is a dancing monkey once again, and somehow they find their way back to each other.

This is an absolute DELIGHT of a fic that will have you alternately laughing out loud and crying quietly into your SVARTFIBBLA blanket (super-soft, recycled polyester, 47x63"). It's ‘crack treated seriously’ at its very best and a clear homage to the fandom classic Infinite Coffee… (that’s not a dig or a spoiler, the author says so in the author’s note).

Now if you know me, you’ll know that angst o’clock is my happy hour and I’m usually not very into these heavy-on the-humor quasi-absurdist fics (because I’m super special and not like all the other girls, obviously). But. I LOVED this story so, so much. It’s such a fun read—even when it makes you cry—and it really became one of those ‘huh, I guess I’m into this after all’ moments of joyful (self)discovery via fanfic for me. I never thought a pair of oven mitts could move me like that, and I'll never be able to walk into an IKEA again without muttering "F******!" under my breath (iykyk). Absolutely fantastic.

a handful of dust by RecoveringTheSatellites | 20K, M

Author's summary: Steve looks for Bucky for a long time. But the thing is that Bucky doesn't get found, Bucky finds. Bucky always finds Steve. This takes a hard left after the Potomac and stumbles through the dark a lot after. Take a bit of running, the occasional synaptic misfire, the resurfacing of old memories, a dash or two of PTSD, and (eventually) a nice dose of action, stir, and serve over some unresolved issues.

Honestly, the second paragraph up there perfectly sums up the story. It's a good ol' fashioned Bucky recovery fic with some angst, some action, and a whole lot of healing and devotion. Steve and Bucky get to be very sappy about each other, but also extremely Badass Battle Boyfriends™ when somebody threatens their hard-won happiness. Both are allowed to be messy, unstable, and very co-dependent.

This was the first time this author played in the Stucky sandbox and I mean it 100% as a compliment when I say that you can tell. This is someone with "fresh legs" diving headfirst and very deep into the Stucky trope pool and they're doing it with great relish and enthusiam. The result is a story that rejects some of the tried and true conventions of the post-TWS fanfic canon and lovingly embraces others, but that is definitely aware of and in dialogue with the body of work that came before it. Also, it's just a really fun read that gives these two the very soft ending they deserve.

Everybody is Supposed to be Dead by pollutedstar | 22K, M

Author's summary: In 1944, Bucky Barnes falls off a train into the Alps, missing and presumed dead. Months later, Steve Rogers nosedives a plane into the arctic. In 2010, the Winter Soldier project is uncovered by S.H.I.E.L.D., and Bucky Barnes is found alive. Three years later, Steve Rogers’ frozen body is found in the ocean.

A really interesting AU and a fascinating exploration of what could’ve been; the impact it would’ve had on the events and characters if Bucky had been the one to be “found” first. How would it affect Steve to come back into a world where he isn’t quite so lonely and adrift, and where he does have the relief and reassurance of having Bucky by his side and at his back? How would that have changed the way he acted and reacted to this strange new world and the people and organizations trying to recruit him to their cause even though the ice hasn't even completely melted off his body yet?

There are a lot of astute and precise observations about characters like Tony, Natasha, and Clint in this story, and on top of that, it offers up some very compelling insights into Steve's conflicted and difficult relationship with his role as Captain America.

it's never over (hey orpheus) by romcommie | 12K WIP, 2/?, M

Author's summary: He remembers a song first and then everything else follows, burying him below. Or, Bucky Barnes pieces a life back together with a few choice verses, some duct tape and seventy years worth of spite. Steve Rogers tries very hard to relearn there's a life to be lived in the first place.

Ok, listen up, people! This is a WIP and there are only 2 chapters posted so far, but I haven't felt this absolutely bonkers excited about a post-CA:TWS fic in a long while. We're talking frothing at the mouth here. I have such a massive crush on this fic, it's a bit embarrassing, really. It's one of those fics where you know after just a few paragraphs that you're in very good, very competent hands. The wealth of historical and cultural detail; the way the story shifts/flips/flickers back and forth between time, perspective and narrative levels; the Bucky voice—it's all so well done! I'm so insanely excited to see where the author takes this!

ENJOY!

[lady-corrine]

If you could write for DC Comics what storyline would you give to Dick and Kory if they were a married couple?

Oh, that's such a beautiful question! This was meant to be a pretty short answer, but because I love them so much I got carried away and here we are, with this ridiculously long answer 🫠 It's going to be a lot of me rambling ahead, just to warn you! More under the cut! <3

First, the way I would get them married is by mostly following the original plan. I know some people will criticize it saying it leans too much into the damsel in distress trope, but frankly seeing how some parts of the fandom treat Kory as indestructible, it would be lovely to see her be saved for once, and how shattered and unstable Dick would be at the possibility of losing her. Also, considering her traumatic past, it would be extremely important for Kory to know that she is completely safe, that this man would do anything to protect her and save her no matter what.

In my version Dick would already plan to propose to her, he would buy the ring, make all the preparations, but he wouldn't get the chance as the attack happens and Kory is injured. Then it goes on as originally planned:

I love the imagery of him cradling Kory in his arms and the crowd of heroes parting to watch them. It screams classic epic romance 🫶🏻

However, I would definetly add the planned marriage from DCAMU with Dick fighting on Tamaran to marry her. So many people forget Kory is a literal princess, so Dick being her knight/suitor that fights for her hand in marriage against royal guards like in historic times would be very beautiful to see and again very classic-romance coded. I would incorporate it by making the fighting a Tamaranean custom that Dick is definetly not obliged to do by Earth customs, but which he wants to do because it's important for Kory's culture, her parents and her people and he wants to respect them out of love for her.

And again, the imagery which is simply beautiful and very fitting for them as a trope:

They would do a double wedding to honour both of their customs and traditions, with one ceremony on Earth and another on Tamaran.

Now, to finally start answering your actual question 😭, as an established married couple: Kory will definetly get her own permanent solo comic, no buts or ifs (I have a lot of ideas on how that solo should be written, with new villains, themes to be explored, missions, diving into Kory's psyche, her ideals, Tamaran, new heroes to mentor etc. but that is a conversation for another time). In their marriage, Kory would be a protagonist just as much as Dick. Not a deuteragonist, not a supportive character that just comes in every 3 or 4 issues to be nothing but the love interest, not the wife reduced to comforting him and then being pushed into the backround to let the man have the spotlight. That's not how it works for them.

Kory would be established as the complete leader of the Titans. Half the time she and her husband work independently — with her leading the Titans or fighting her own missions as Starfire, while Dick operates in Blüdhaven and occasionally with the Batfam. The other half they work together as a duo/pair, showing everyone how incredibly in sync they are on the battlefield.

I would introduce a new rogues' gallery for them as a couple, much more dangerous, darker and terrifying. I would want at least one storyline/case to be memorable and remain a classic for them — for example, one idea would be to uncover the corruption behind a very successful pharmaceutical chain, in which the doctors exhume newly buried bodies and use parts of them in their medication. Less on the fighting part this one, more on the analytical for Dick and Kory.

Another storyline would be a villain who stalks them for a long time, uncovers Nightwing's identity, injects Kory with a substance that essentially takes any alien power from her and leaves her as vulnerable as a human, and starts wreaking havoc and murdering people.

Another idea I would love to write for them would be a full blown horror one, with a vampiric creature that basically feeds with Kory's energy, leaving her weaker and weaker. The creature wants to make a bargain with Dick — his soul in exchange for Kory recovering. Him and Kory think of a way to trick the creature eventually.

An elseworld storyline would take place in the 19th century Blüdhaven with Dick and Kory as a married couple of detectives that track down a serial killer alike Jack the Ripper.

In their run, I would show Kory as a philantropist who, together with her husband, brings positive changes to the cities she protects. Not only defeating crime, but using their money for schools, orphanages, helping victims etc. In terms of fighting, I would place more spotlight on Kory's skills in hand to hand combat, instead of her starbolts.

On a personal level, they navigate and overcome the obstacles that come with them wanting to be heroes but also wanting to keep their loving marriage and enjoy a domestic life. How they balance work with making time for each other, how Zatanna or Vic or someone else would invent some magical object or device that changes some of Kory's appearance so she and Dick could go out on dates in public and still keep their secret identities.

How Kory gets accustomed to Blüdhaven and Gotham, how does she integrate in the Batfam, who does she click with, Kory and Bruce slowly but surely warming up to each other and trusting each other. At the opposite end is Dick becoming a royal consort, how he wants to learn about Kory's culture and be accepted by her people, how he learns about Tamaran and the politics of it. (He would definetly become fluent in Tamaranean)

I would love to write about Kory as Empress Regnant and Dick as her consort. I would love to write Dick taking the Batman mantle again but this time with Kory into the picture and the changes she would bring. I would love to write Kory and Dick involved in an intergalactic war.

Then around 3 or 4 years into their marriage, they have Mar'i. 🥹 And that will bring a new set of challenges: how do Tamaraneans pregnancies work, how is Mar'i as a baby, what it means to raise her, how does Mar'i develop her fear of death and how Kory and Dick try to deal with that. How being a mother and father changes so many perspectives for Dick and Kory and the way they look at certain things, making them even more protective and concerned.

Mar'i being born also opens the door for more dangerous and challenging missions, with villains targeting her to get to both Dick and Kory.

As a couple they would have some minor arguments here and there, because they aren't perfect and they have their flaws and no couple works like that, especially with such a stressful job as they have. But those rare arguments would always end in heartfelt conversations and would always serve a purpose to shed light on Kory's or Dick's way of thinking and how beautiful they work through things, not simply for the sake of drama.

At some point though, I would write a dark case that takes a deep emotional toll on Kory (a case that involves sa, trafficking, mirroring the horrors she went through), and she becomes so focused on it, so absorbed in making those horrors stop and helping the victims, that she closes off emotionally towards her own family. Because I want to completely reverse their Ntt positions this time, with Dick being emotionally open while Starfire gets lost in anger, with him making Kory open back little by little on how that case affected her, helping her heal from her past trauma, being a very loving and supportive husband that is in tune with Starfire's feelings. (Because that's who Dick is, DC, not some "happy go lucky" man child that runs from Kory's trauma.)

I would give them so many domestic moments that I feel are rarely used in comics but are simply so them and would be earned and a breath of fresh air after fighting and returning from the battlefield: tending to each other's wounds, washing each other, giving back their Ntt pillow talks, Dick combing Kory's hair, falling asleep in each other's lap, going through photos together, sharing their home office in comfortable silence, as well as pretty much the entirety of DCAMU. Terms of endearment, constant touches, dancing, photoshoots together, Dick tending to her garden, both being there for Mar'i's first words and her first steps etc. Moments that ground them and are the center of their world.

For Dick, of course, Kory and Mar'i are his priority above anything and anyone else. This doesn't mean he stops loving Bruce or his siblings or his friends, but his wife and daughter are everything for him, in every sense of the word and him prioritizing them is very much normal and in character.

I would constantly toy and play with so many storylines and different settings for them because it simply works so incredibly well for Dick and Kory, in a way that doesn't for any other couple — dealing with a political coup on Tamaran for an usurper to take the throne, gothic and horror stories with haunted castles, orphanages or asylums, detective stories, mythological settings that dive into Tamaranean religion and gods, modern Blüdhaven with serial killers or infractional groups, genetic mutation or experimentations in labs. Everything and anything can work for them, if only a drop of imagination is used and they are written with genuine love.

Kory and Dick are both literal goldmines of characters, in a way few are, but they were never used to their full potential and I fear they never will be. Because DC is too lazy and lacking in talented or original writers.

I could talk about these two and my ideas for them to infinity, as you probably saw. If you did not get bored of my ramblings, thank you for reading all of this and thank you for your question! It was lovely to answer to it! 🥹🩷

[defiantinnies]

Emotional Support - Seth Milchick

chapter one

pairing: Seth Milchick x fem!reader

cw: afab reader, slowburn, there will be very minor plot changes, milchick is lowkey unprofessional and ooc as time goes on, eventual sexual content, violence, not proofread

summary: Days in the MDR office are long. The lovely thing about them is him. And your co-workers. Definitely also your co-workers.

The lights. Those bright, white fluorescent lights. Boy, do they hurt your eyes. Your bottom also hurts, likely from sitting all day refining. Your fingers cramp so you crack them.

You look over to Petey’s desk. He’s been gone today. With no one else for Mark to playfully banter with, it has been quiet. You thought you’d enjoy it at first, the quiet, but you quickly realized their chatter had been like white noise for you to concentrate, so you miss it.

Irving, as usual, is refining silently. Mark is concentrated on his screen and Dylan plays around with one of his blue Lumon-gifted finger traps, presumably having finished a file. And you are distracted, studying all of them like rats.

After a moment, the three begin talking. You decide not to interject, instead listening silently to their meaningless conversation—something about Mark and Petey being sick, discussion about Irving’s classic “what’s for dinner” line, the perks.

Then suddenly, he walks in. Milchick. “Good morning, Macrodata Refinement,” he says.

Irving stands. “Hi, Mr. Milchick.”

You almost think he’s a suck up, but you know you’d do the same if you weren’t so sheepish, so you cannot judge him.

Instead of chatting with all of you like you hoped he would, he calls Mark out for a “talk”. Mark exits the MDR office and you hear their footsteps grow further and further away until it is silent. Only you, Dylan, and Irving remain.

After a moment, Dylan speaks up.

“What do you think’s going on?” He asks.

“Maybe it has something to do with Petey.” Irving replies. “What do you think, Y/N?”

“A Petey problem.” You say. It seems that your words trigger silence, because that is what fills the room as you sit with what you said.

Dylan leans in closer. “Do you guys think he got fired?” He questions.

“We cannot assume things like that. Mr. Milchick would tell us if so,” Irving says.

“Irv, you trying to get brownie points or something?” Dylan jokes.

And you try not to laugh, but it is so hard not to. Their eyes direct to you. Dylan starts chuckling after a moment.

“See, even she’s laughing. She thinks so too.” He adds.

“Y/N, do you really think that’s funny?” Irving asks. Your smile falters.

“No. Sorry Irv.” You mutter. To occupy yourself you begin refining again before looking at Dylan. “I agree—Milchick would tell us.”

Dylan rolls his eyes. “Damn. Where the hell is Mark? Now I’m stuck with two lapdogs.”

Irving scoffs at his words. You almost see his professional persona break as he opens his mouth to counter him, but he stops himself before anything gets out.

Everyone goes back to refining, and again, you’re back alone with your thoughts again. Where is Petey? Where is Mark? Sunflower seeds or dried blueberries for lunch? Why did you laugh at Irving? That was rude. You aren’t rude. Or at least you don’t think so. What do they think about you?

Irving is the next to be called out of the office. When he is, Dylan asks Milchick what is going on, and he simply responds with that too-perfect smile.

It is a long while before they return. About an hour of refining, you estimate. And when they do, a pretty lady with an intense strut follows them. She has dark orange hair, almost like the food tokens for the vending machine, and a dark green turtleneck that you are sure violates the dress code. Irving sits at his desk, and Dylan is ready to pop another question.

Milchick pushes a television cart into the room, settling it a short distance in front of a rolling chair that you think was always there.

“Who’s she?” Dylan questions.

“Petey’s replacement,” Irving responds. “Her name is Helly R.”

Mark returns with a bandage on his forehead and sits.

“What happened to your forehead?” Dylan asks Mark.

“A speaker was thrown.” He says.

“Shit.” Dylan looks back at the perpetrator, who is watching herself on the television. Her outie, you mean. Everyone follows suit, glancing over at her. They look back to their screens. You don’t.

Your eyes shift between the television, Helly, and Milchick like clockwork. You are looking at Helly when she turns back and offers you what seems like a look of sympathy before quickly turning back at the television.

Milchick looks at you after her. His gaze holds for a little too long. It is intense, as well. So intense and prolonged, in fact, that you are the one to look away first.

Back to refining again, after the nth distraction that day. Helly soon approaches the desks, specifically Petey’s empty one, alongside Milchick.

“Y/N, will you come with me?” Milchick questions. What? Why you? Is it because of the look? What did you do?

You exchange a quick glance with Mark and Dylan before getting out of your seat and following Milchick into the hallway. You two stop once you are out of the office.

“Would you like to take a walk with me?” He asks. His smile is polished, practiced, like usual.

“Ok.” You respond.

Once you reach the conference room, he speaks up. “I just wanted to check in with you.”

You look over at him as you walk.

“I’ve noticed a slight dip in your refinement metrics today. Nothing alarming, of course, but we strive for consistency here at Lumon,” he continues, “I understand transitions can be an adjustment.”

His slight smile doesn’t waver.

“And I know work can sometimes feel…weighty. Even for our most dedicated refiners. That is why Lumon provides the resources to ensure every worker remains at their most optimal.”

A pause. His steps cease abruptly. Without thinking, yours do too. You turn, catching the quiet scrutiny in his expression.

“Would you like to schedule a wellness session with Ms. Casey?” He finally asks.

You stare a moment. A wellness session would be good for you. A wellness session would keep things running smoothly. A wellness session would be the right choice. His eyes stay on you, patient, waiting.

Milchick notices your hesitation.

“It’s completely voluntary, of course. We, I, want to make sure you are feeling your best,” He claims calmly. His demeanor seems to expect something from you.

“I’m okay. Really. I think Petey’s absence just has me a little bothered. And all the other distractions today, as a matter of fact.” Your fingers play nervously with the hem of your sleeve. “I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll get back to normal soon. I don’t want to take up Ms. Casey’s time with something so small.”

His expression doesn’t falter, but there is a subtle shift in his gaze as he watches you.

“I understand. Change can be challenging,” he says, his voice smooth but softer than before. “Even for those who adapt well. And you do adapt well.”

For a brief moment, you feel the lightest pressure against your shoulder. His hand, just barely resting there. But the moment you glance down at it, his fingers retreat just as quickly, as if the gesture was never meant to be there.

The two of you resume walking, this time back in the direction of the MDR office. You steal a glance at him. His posture remains upright, hands clasped behind his back now.

“Still, I hope you’ll be kind to yourself. Petey’s absence has been noted, and if you’re feeling… off, that’s understandable. It’s not a flaw.”

He exhales lightly through his nose, the closest thing to a sigh you’ve ever heard from him.

“I won’t push.” A small pause. “But if that changes—if you ever want to talk, or if the weight of everything becomes too much—you only have to say the word.”

The hum of fluorescents overhead fills the brief silence between you. Still, as you both turn the final corner back toward MDR, there’s a noticeable change in the air. You wonder if it’s just you who feels it, or Milchick too.

As if sensing the moment has stretched just long enough, Milchick’s posture straightens again, his usual professional demeanor locking back into place.

“For now, I’ll let you get back to work.” His smile returns. “I appreciate your diligence. Truly.”

As you near the door, he slows just slightly, letting you step ahead.

“Thank you for taking the walk,” he says, voice as smooth and measured as ever, but something in his tone feels lighter. He is letting himself slip again. “I hope the rest of your workday is fulfilling.”

“Yours too, Mr. Milchick.” You smile.

He nods. Smiles, again.

Milchick lingers for a beat, watching as you settle back into your station. Only when you’ve fully returned to your work does he finally turn away, his footsteps fading into the distance as he disappears down the hall.

All eyes are on you. Mark, Dylan, Irving, Kelly—no, Helly, you think—all look at you. Their eyes ask something they don’t need to say, one you’ve heard today after two of the men staring were taken out by Milchick. What did he say to you?

You swallow, shifting in your seat. “It was nothing.” The words feel flimsy the second they leave your mouth.

Dylan scoffs, leaning back in his chair. “Right. ‘Nothing.’ That’s why he took you on a little field trip.”

Irving exhales sharply through his nose. “He didn’t reprimand you, did he? Because if your numbers are down, it’s entirely understandable given the circumstances.”

The circumstances. The word hangs there, but you all know what it means. Petey. Helly.

You try not to fidget under their stares, keeping your hands folded neatly on your lap. “He just wanted to check in,” you say carefully. “Make sure I was… adjusting well.”

Dylan is about to say something. But then Mark clears his throat and breaks the moment. “Alright, everyone. Let’s get back to it.” His tone is light, casual, like he’s trying to brush off the tension, but you can tell it’s more for your benefit than anyone else’s.

Again. Refining. The office settles back into the usual rhythm of work and you force yourself to focus on your screen, on the numbers in front of you, but your mind keeps drifting back. The hallway. His voice, softer than usual. The warmth of his hand on your shoulder.

Slowly, absently, you bring a hand to your shoulder, pressing your fingertips to the spot where his touch had been.

There’s nothing there now—just fabric and the familiar shape of your own body. But still, for some reason, you keep your hand there.

[ludolka]

Pygmalion and Galatea - A Project Xelqua au fic

Word count: 2158

Description: Pygmalion in Greek mythology was a sculptor who fell in love with a statue he has created, named Galatea. Null wants to kiss Joel, his main creator, who has to decide between acting based on his morals or his attraction

Written in third person, from Joel’s POV, who is kind of an unreliable narrator

Author’s note at the end

-

Joel let out a heavy sigh and eyed the cold cup of coffee on his desk. Was it his 5th or 6th coffee of the day? He wasn’t sure, he stopped counting his daily caffeine intake years ago. It wasn’t even that late yet, only around 5 pm, but he has been sitting at this computer since 8 am and he was nowhere near finished with what he planned on completing today

The computers and scattered around technology sang their electronic songs to him and he could swear his typing made the melody of some classical song he heard years ago. Or maybe he was going insane. But he found comfort in the noise, he has grown to get so used to it over the years and the countless hours he’s spent on this project in this laboratory that sometimes he couldn’t fall asleep at night due to the silence. This was his home now, he spent far more time in this building than at his actual home. He just went there to sleep

Right now he was working on trying to calculate and improve Null’s balance. Even after all these years of working on Null, his balance was still a bit off, leading him to trip or wobble whenever he had to be on his feet for an extended period of time. And for the life of him, Joel couldn’t figure out where the error was. His college and by now pseudo family member, Mumbo has also been trying to find the root cause of the wobbling in Null’s code, but has come to the conclusion that his code was working as intended and it was a mechanical issue rather than a programming one

He has been recalculating and overlooking everything for so long that he has forgotten Null was sitting not that far from him. That was until Null spoke up, breaking the lull of the orchestra of electronics

“You aren’t in a relationship, correct?”

Joel blinked a few times as he processed the question, his mind needing a few seconds to break away from only thinking in binary and machinery. He didn’t look up from his computer, but he was a bit grateful for the distraction and the break from his current thought process that seemed to be going nowhere

“Yep, I’m as single as one can be. I barely have time to sleep, let alone to date”

Null stayed quiet for a bit, Joel wasn’t sure if he went back to doing whatever he was doing before or if he was processing the answer and coming up with a response. He took a sip from his cold coffee and briefly thought about taking a smoke break, to move around a bit and get some fresh air, break the monotony

“But you have been in one before, correct?”

Joel raised an eyebrow, but still didn’t face Null even though he could feel those big eyes burning holes into him. Null always had interesting eyes, no matter how they modified them, he still had this intense stare that seemed to look straight into people’s souls. Some investors even found him creepy for his staring and refused to back up the project. They claimed he looked like he knew too much and that was uncanny for them. Joel has gotten used to it over the years

“Yes, I have. Why?”

Null was always curious, always asking millions of questions, ones that often made no sense to anyone but him. He has gotten into the habit of asking the team personal questions over the last few months and that was always a tricky area with how they were supposed to answer without overly influencing Null. Null was supposed to be this blank slate with no opinions on topics that could be classified as controversial, to make him as widely marketable as possible. This however didn’t stop him from asking the team’s personal ideologies and views. And Joel blamed Jimmy the most for slipping up, he spent the most time actually talking to Null and he seemed to sometimes forget Null wasn’t another person

“What does kissing feel like?”

Joel felt himself frown and he actually turned to look at Null at this question, deciding this conversation was more interesting than his calculations and was therefore worthy of his full attention. He found Null already staring at him like he expected. He also decided this must have been the fault of Lizzie or Mumbo, the two hopeless romantics of the team. Lizzie liked showing Null videos, movies and poems about love, claiming this was helping him understand humanity better

“Uh, I might not be the best person to ask that. I can’t give you some poetic description. Kiss the ball of your thumb or the inner part of your wrist, that comes pretty close to the feeling”

Joel was already well versed in answering questions and explaining mundane everyday things that he never would have thought he’d be asked about. Null learnt like this after all, no matter how silly his questions sounded. Null broke his intense stare from Joel and looked down at his slightly raised hand, the led circles in his eyes spinning before dropping it and turning his full attention back to Joel once again

“Why do people kiss each other?”

“Usually because they are attracted to each other or love each other. It’s also a form of affection”

Joel wasn’t sure why Null was asking him this, something he could easily look up online and get long well-written articles on the importance and history of kissing and the evolutionary reasoning for it, all of which he didn’t know. He has learnt that when Null asked simple questions, it was usually a lead up to a point he wanted to make or get to. Joel just had no idea what his end goal with this conversation was

“I want to kiss you. I want to know how it feels”

Joel swallowed and just stared at Null for a bit, who looked as nonchalant and casual as always. Like he was just talking about the weather or something mundane like that. He forced himself to say something when he felt his face heat up and saw Null’s leds start to spin, probably studying his reaction

“I uh- me? Why do you want to kiss me out of everyone?”

Joel has learnt that sometimes it was better to just let Null talk and explain himself, often leading to him being satisfied with the conclusions he himself came to. And also to better understand his thought process, which seemed impossible to follow sometimes

“Because I’m attracted to you. That’s why people kiss each other, no?”

Joel felt his face heat up more and his brain felt like it short circuited. Out of all possible answers, he never expected this. This was also new, Null hadn't expressed attraction of any kind towards anything or anyone before, Joel thought he was unable to feel that. Then something clicked in his mind and he relaxed back against his chair, looking a lot less shocked than before. Null was an ai who parroted what he heard. This couldn’t have been a genuine confession, no matter how that left a bitter aftertaste in Joel’s mouth

“Which of those fuckers talked about finding me attractive? Maybe they didn’t even realize you could hear them and here you are telling on them”

Joel’s tone and attitude changed to a more amused one and a slight smirk tugged on the corners of his lips, he would have found this whole conversation hilarious if it wasn’t for that dull ache in his chest. Null tilted his head to the side, like he was the confused one now, which Joel just found more amusing

“None of them. Mumbo was talking to Lizzie about how he found Scar attractive. You weren’t brought up”

Joel’s mind short circuited again, like he couldn’t understand what Null was telling him, no matter how simple his answer was. He felt himself tense up again and he closely studied Null’s expression, to see if he was making a joke or something like he sometimes did to fuck with Joel’s head. Lately he has been very much enjoying getting under Joel’s skin and flustering him for some reason

“Then why are you saying this?”

Joel’s voice was quieter and he just watched as Null got up from his seat near the window and walked closer to him. Joel wasn’t sure if he was frozen in his chair or if he didn’t want to move. Null stopped a foot away from him and leant down a bit, so they were at eye level

“Because I’m attracted to you and I want to kiss you”

Joel felt like his head was spinning and he was so close to throwing all logic and rationale out the window to act on impulse. He looked down at Null’s lips before he seemingly got a bit of sense back and instinctively looked over at the camera at corner of the room

“I shouldn’t”

He barely whispered, but he knew Null could hear him. Then there was a hand on his cheek, making him turn back to face Null, who hasn’t moved closer. Joel thought about the contrast between their expressions for a second, Null looked so calm and sure of himself, like this wasn’t affecting him in the slightest while he was a flustered stuttering mess

“I can turn the cameras off. No one would know. I know you want to kiss me too, I’ve seen how you look at me. You’re attracted to me”

Now Joel felt his face heat up with shame. He was well aware of his attraction, but he kept it so under control, never letting anyone, not even his closest friends know about it. And now here was the subject of his attraction, who he wanted to know about this the least, telling it to him so casually. He felt like a child being caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Like he was caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do and he immediately felt like he had to repent for a sin he didn’t even commit. He never meant to act on an attraction that felt so incredibly wrong, he felt like just by having it he was betraying himself. And he had to remind himself that Null wasn’t a person who would be able to consent or reciprocate feelings, no matter how human he acted or how indistinguishable he was from a person at times in his mannerisms and behavior. Null was an ai powered machine, he was technology under the pretty face and pale skin, not flesh

He also had to remind himself that Null was an incredibly expensive piece of machinery and that he could easily be fired and sued if he somehow damaged or contaminated Null, even with just a kiss. He had no idea what even a simple kiss could do to Null, what kind of consequences that could have on his programming and how he viewed the world. Null was a blank canvas and he felt like he’d draw a line on it with a permanent sharpie if he gave in to his desires

“Null, no”

He knew he didn’t sound convincing in the slightest, knew that he’d give in if Null kept pushing and he prayed that Null took the hint and listened to his words rather than his tone or body language, absolving and saving him from falling into a hole he wasn’t sure he could get out of. He wasn’t sure he could go back once that line was crossed, no matter how much he felt pulled towards it, no matter how it was verbally already crossed

Null stayed still for a bit, studying Joel as his leds spun around. It felt like hours for Joel, but in the end Null simply nodded and drew his hand back before walking back to his seat, not glancing back at Joel, rather focusing his attention on the city skyline. He has been fixated on just watching the city from above through windows lately, sometimes not even paying attention to people talking to him, he seemed so lost in whatever he was watching

Joel let out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding. He stared at Null for a bit longer, unable to tear his eyes away from him and he could have sworn he saw Null’s expression slightly shift. Was he disappointed? Hurt? Was he even capable of feeling those things? Were the others right about Null becoming sentient? Joel’s head spun and despite barely being awake just a few minutes ago, he was now fully awake like someone poured ice cold water over him

He grabbed his pack of cigarettes off of the desk near him and forced himself to leave the room for a much needed smoke break, hoping it’d clear his mind

-

Author’s note: I love unreliable narrators so much, who see the world through their own biases and don’t know everything needed to fully understand the situation they are in, often misunderstanding it and drawing the wrong conclusion. Null’s more sentient than machine while Joel sees him the other way around. Null’s fully capable of feeling attraction and making decisions for himself, while Joel thinks he’s just copying something he saw or heard without truly understanding what he’s doing or saying

[creatingblackcharacters]

Sorry if this is a silly question but what makes a character Black-coded? It seems like sometimes it's obvious that the artist was intending it to be read that way (ex. Big Mama from The Fox and the Hound, although that was definitely not handled well) but sometimes I'm not even sure if the character is coded as anything at all (ex. Roz from The Wild Robot)

Like, for instance, say you have a talking cat character. They don't have any anthropomorphized features other than your classic humanlike movements and maybe bigger eyes. They are voiced by a Black actor. Does this character count as Black-coded just because of who is portraying them?

That's just a random example though. I'm not sure how obvious you have to make it until it becomes clear without playing into stereotypes.

Thank you for reading this far Ice! I really appreciate how much you put into this blog

I didn't know Big Mama was voiced by Pearl Bailey! Learned something new.

Tbh, I don't know how else to explain it other than "knowing real Black people" 😅 I mean, how can you tell when characters are "white-coded", except that you are familiar with what you act like? Not every character that has a Black VA is Black-coded, yeah- Zeno Robinson voice dubs a whole lot of characters that aren't Black.

It's also not a matter of "every" character of that design being Black-coded. Maybe it very well is just that the actor is Black and is behaving as such, and that doesn't have to be stereotype- if you know Blackness enough to spot it. How can I tell, past her voice, that Bubbie from Flapjack is Black? Because it's not just in her voice, it's in her behavior and in the way she responds to things.

Yeah I don't really know how to answer this one.

[graciescott27]

POKER FACE!

his classmate keeps trying to figure out a cheat sheet for his expressions…

cw: kinda angsty with his backstory, language, classmates to friends to possibly lovers (really ambiguous ending)

wc: 1.3k

Rin Itoshi has an excellent poker face. Sae had taught it to him. He never let any of his emotions show through his expressions. If his big brother could do it, then so could he. Since he had never learned emotions, he hid from them. They didn’t exist if no one could tell him what he felt.

No one ever learned how to look past Rin Itoshi’s poker face. It didn’t really benefit them to, at the end of the day. This one girl in his home room, though, always stared at him with curious eyes. It was the most unusual expression on her face every time. Rin had never seen anything like it. Her eyes were analytical with narrowed eyebrows. Her lips were sucked in and pulled to the side just a bit with just the slightest downturn to them. The first few times, he thought she was mad at him. He returned the glare.

When the observing continued long past when you should’ve stopped being mad, Rin began to think it was something else. Did you want to ask him a question? Did his hair look stupid? Had he given a dumb answer during a lesson? Maybe you had known Sad before he left for Spain somehow. He was only really popular because of his brother, after all.

Eventually, the day came where you slammed your hand on his desk and gave him an accusatory point. You were grinning wildly, though, which he found quite contradictory. You seemed to be quite bad at keeping your emotions in.

“You’re confused,” you announced proudly.

Rin looked at you like you were crazy. Well, to the best of his abilities. His brows were drawn together just a millimeter more than normal. He held his lips tighter together than usual. That was it. “Excuse me?”

“You’re confused,” you reasserted, lowering the hand you were pointing at him with. You were leaned in too close for his liking. “Right? Your right eyebrow raises a little when you’re confused, I think. Doesn’t it?”

Yeah, maybe it did. He had never thought about it before. You being right didn’t do anything to help the fact that he had no fucking clue why you were talking to him, though. “Why is this important?”

“Because you look dead all the time,” you scoffed, leaning back and crossing your arms in one fluid motion. “I’m trying to figure out the code.”

He still had no idea what you were talking about. “The code?”

“Yeah. How to read you. You don’t ever express anything, man. It’s weird.”

“You’re weird,” he scoffed, turning his head to face away from you.

You snapped and pointed at him again, laughing. “That. More of that.”

And you rushed away, grabbing your bag off your desk and running at a group of girls.

Maybe you had just escaped an asylum.

You continued to observe him over the next few months. Every day after classic you came up to him and tried to guess how he was feeling. You were right every time. Rin was beginning to think that his poker face wasn’t as good as he thought it was.

And then that horrid snowy night came. It was still winter. Rin’s practice had finished a few hours ago already. It was getting dark. He was probably going to get a bus ride back home soon. Rin had quickly made a habit of staying later after practice every day. Sae was coming back home. He had to show his brother just how much better he had gotten.

He didn’t get much of a chance to show off.

After that day, there was a change in your daily analysis. You didn’t tell him that he was excited right before he left school to play a match. You didn’t tell him that he was tired from training or that he was confused about a math lesson. Now you only gave him two answers. You’re sad. You’re angry. You’re sad. You’re angry, you’re angry, you’re angry. You’re sad. You’re sad. You’re sad, you’re sad, you’re sad, you’re sad. And still, despite how much he shrugged you off, you were still right every time.

He snapped at you one day. He told you to shut up, to fuck off, to leave him the hell alone. By some act of God, you actually listened. You stopped your interrogations completely. He only realized then just how much you talked to him. Ugh. Ignoring you might end up being more difficult than putting up with you.

Despite his newfound refusal to interact with you, You still kept track of everything he felt. You knew the answer key by that point, so it wasn’t too hard to figure out. He stopped being as sad. After just a few weeks, you could already tell how much more frequently he was angry. You didn’t know what had happened. There was no way to know why he was mad. You couldn’t ask. There was no way he would want to speak to you ever again. 

He had left for the Blue Lock program pretty fast after that. You didn’t know where he was for the first few weeks, actually. You had asked at least five different people before you finally learned where he had gone. You did as much research as possible on whatever the hell this thing was, and watched his schedule just as closely as you watched your own. You had never seen him play before, so when you saw the announcement for the Blue Lock 11 v. U20 match, you decided to go. It was mostly on pure impulse, sure, but you had nothing else going on that day.

Yeaaah, turns out that he was good. You had heard about it over the years. Everyone in Japan probably had. Both of the Itoshi brothers were unstoppable. But really, you hadn’t expected any of them to be that good.

After that, Blue Lock TV became a thing. You were able to see the rankings as they were updated. Unsurprisingly, Rin Itoshi stayed number 1 nearly the entire time.

When he came back, he had absolutely no idea that you had spent so much time practically stalking him. You weren’t going to tell him, either. That would make you look utterly insane. So your relationship with him stayed static as he finished his last ever month in school. If you wanted to save anything — which you desperately did for no clear reason — you would have to act fast.

He came up to you first, though.

His expression was unsure and his eyes were shifting every direction. He finally looked at your face and mumbled, “You’re mad? Or worried?”

You cocked a singular brow, looking up at him. “I’m not mad or worried.”

“So you’re… sad?”

You laughed and shook your head. “I’m not sad.”

His face was fully scrunched as he concentrated on your face. “Happy?”

You shrugged, closing the book on the top of your desk. “I’m not sure, actually.”

“So confused?”

“You could say that, I guess.”

Confused why he was finally speaking to you again? Absolutely. You had spent all of that time watching everything related to Blue Lock just to keep an eye on him and no he was talking to you again. Did you manifest it somehow? Did he figure out that you were being a total creep and he was confronting you?

That was how you had become friends with Rin Itoshi. Through harassing him constantly over what his facial expressions meant, you had somehow earned his trust. You never learned why he had become so upset before he left for Blue Lock. You never learned why he lashed out at you. But even despite the lack of knowledge about why he felt the way he did, you at least knew that he did really feel it. The why never ended up mattering too much in the end.

You two kept in contact long after he moved to Madrid to play for Re Al. He never learned that your friends would tease you anytime an article came out about him. You never learned that his teammates would make fun of him anytime he got a notification from some unknown girl with a heart emoji the end of her contact name. The lack of knowing never really mattered much in the end.

@graciescott27