#and pointed out the fact that they had originally met when she was 20 and he was mid-40s

[evilmenenjoyer]

Punishment

Pairing: professor Hwang In-ho x student fem!Reader

Summary: You find a creative, albeit unconventional way to get out of the trouble you're in at university.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: sexual content (minors dni), age gap (legal, reader is implied to be in her early to mid 20s), spanking, corporal punishment, masochism, power dynamics, crying, unresolved sexual tension.

–––

You can tell something’s off the second you walk through the door, when your cheerful “Hello, Mr. Hwang!” is met with a short, courteous “good evening” from the professor.

It’s not rude. It’s not even particularly harsh. It just lacks the usual warmth you’ve come to expect from him, the tiny smile on his lips that always greets you.

Being called to see the strict Mr. Hwang In-ho after class usually meant bad news, leaving most students nervous about what they could’ve done wrong. But not you. You’ve lost count of how many times you stayed in this classroom for hours after class was over, discussing a book he had assigned for class or literature in general. Some days you’d help him grade tests and homework, when you noticed he had too much work on his back. And some days, the ones you cherished the most, you’d talk about things unrelated to class or literature – politics, your interests, your personal life. His personal life.

Saying you were smitten with him was the understatement of the century. You tried not to pay much attention to the crush you developed on him, hoping it would go away if you just ignored it for long enough, but it only seems to be getting stronger.

“You wanted to see me?” you ask, closing the door. It’s generally frowned upon for a student to be alone with a professor with the door closed, but Mr. Hwang never objects. The fact that he’s willing to bend the rules for you pleases you a little too much.

“Yes.” His tone is the same as before, not softening now that it’s just the two of you. He pinches the bridge of his nose, and you wonder what is it that’s got him in such a bad mood, if something happened in his life. “I have something to show you.”

He pulls out a piece of paper, setting it on his desk facing you. You approach, your footsteps slightly more hesitant than usual around him.

“Do you recognize this passage?” he asks, pointing to the highlighted paragraph.

You lean in to read it, an analysis of the similarities between classic English and South Korean literature. You recognize it immediately.

“I wrote it. That’s from my latest assignment.”

“Yes.” He’s still not looking at you, rummaging through a pile of papers. Did he not like the assignment? The thought alone upsets you. You worked so hard on it; not only for the sake of keeping your straight-As, but also to impress him. Maybe even more so to impress him. “How about this one?”

He sets another sheet of paper in front of you, one of the paragraphs highlighted in his same blue marker.

As you read it, your stomach immediately drops. It’s your paragraph, almost word-by-word, with a few differences that are too minor to even count.

“This is from Emily Jones’s paper. I believe the two of you are friends.”

You want to find Emily and strangle her. You told her to change stuff and not just copy from you. Did she really think someone like Mr. Hwang wouldn’t notice? That he’d just let it slide?

“I was the one who wrote the original,” you say. “I didn’t–”

“Oh, I know that. I’m very familiar with your writing style, and Ms. Jones isn’t nearly as gifted as you. I knew something was wrong the second I read it.”

You could play the victim, say Emily copied from you without your knowledge, but you know instantly it wouldn’t work, not with Mr. Hwang’s dark eyes right on you. Even when you’re not in emotional distress, the man can read you better than anyone else.

“I’m sorry.” You lower your gaze in shame. “Emily needed help, and I– she’s in the same exchange student program as I am, I know how much she needed the grade.”

“You could’ve helped her study, not let her copy off you.”

“There wasn’t a lot of time. She came to me last-minute.”

He sighs. “Well, I will have to fail both of you.”

“What?” It should be expected, but the words still sting. He knows how hard you work for your good grades. “But my essay was good.”

“It was great. Worthy of an A, if only you hadn’t helped another student with plagiarism. In fact, both of you should be reported for it.”

“Mr. Hwang, please.” Your eyes are practically begging him for mercy, the pitch of your voice getting ever so slightly higher as your desperation grows. “I can lose my scholarship and my spot at the exchange student program. Do you want me gone?”

You can see something flash across his eyes – regret, maybe, or perhaps that warmth you’ve been missing since you walked in here –, just for a split second before they’re back to normal, even more hardened than before.

“Cheating was your choice, not mine. You should’ve thought of the consequences.”

“What if– what if I wrote a new paper?” you bargain. “For half the grade. I can get it done in just a couple of days!”

“The paper is not the point. The point is how my most promising student would waste her talent to help a classmate cheat, and betray the trust I put in her.”

The praise doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but it fades away so quickly, like trying to hold on to smoke.

“It was a mistake. One that won’t happen again.”

“I’m very sorry, Ms. ____.”

You watch helplessly as he gathers the papers and organizes them back into a folder, the muscles of his arms tensed. He looks angry, but also upset. Disappointed. That sends you into an even bigger panic than a bad grade, or the potential of losing your spot at this university. It grows inside your chest, overwhelming, prompting you to say possibly the worst thing you could’ve come up with in this situation.

“What if I just take a whooping?”

He pauses. For a moment you’re both silent, still as statues as you process your own words, what you just asked for. Heat rises to your face so fast it makes you dizzy.

“What?”

You want to run away from this classroom. You want to go to the airport and take the next plane back to your country, classes and scholarship be damned.

However, now the words are already out, hanging heavy between the two of you. You can’t just back down, show him you spoke without thinking. You force yourself to nod, praying to the gods of every religion you know that your cheeks aren’t red enough that he can notice it.

“Yeah. It’s a good punishment,” you say. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not allowed. And because we are not in the 1930s.”

“You know in a lot of places corporal punishment in schools is still legal.”

“And Seoul isn’t one of them.”

“Please, Mr. Hwang.” You lower your eyes, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to rush to the surface. “I know what I did was wrong. But I’d never– willingly betray your trust. I just want to get my punishment, and for things to be back to normal.”

Above all, you want him to stop looking at you like he is right now. Like you’re just any other student, like he doesn’t admire you for your passion and intelligence. Like you haven’t been spending almost every evening after class with him instead of hanging out with your classmates, trying to make friends your own age. Like you don’t mean anything to him.

Mr. Hwang regards you for several long moments. You try to hold his intense gaze, to figure out what he’s thinking, but both tasks are impossible.

“Would you really put yourself through that for a grade?” he asks.

You shake your head slightly, but that stubborn determination doesn’t leave your eyes. “It’s not just a grade.”

His respect for you. The friendship you two have tentatively built over the past few months. That’s what you truly fear losing.

The seconds tick, stretching for so long it feels like torture. It’s so silent in the room you wonder if Mr. Hwang can hear how fast your heart is beating in your chest.

“Okay,” he says finally, sharply. “Fine.”

“Really?” You’re unable to keep the surprise from your voice, from your face, even though you try.

“If you think you can take it.” Something about his voice as he says it, the low baritone of it, sends a new rush of warmth to your body; this time descending directly between your legs. 

“Of course I can.”

No, you probably can’t, and you’re well aware of that. But his words sound like a challenge, and a feeling claws at your chest – perhaps your pride and stubbornness, or simply embarrassment, or something else entirely that you’re not sure how to name – stops you from taking the words back.

“Alright then.” He gives a short nod, and you’re unsure if it was meant for you or for himself. “Bend over the desk.”

Why is it that a simple order for him makes your insides twitch like you’re about to pass out? Your legs shake as you take a step closer to his desk, looking down at the papers and folders neatly on top of it. Drawing in a breath, you bend your upper body down until your elbows touch the dark wood.

It’s only then that you notice your compromising position. Emily had joked with you about how the length of your skirts had gotten shorter with every visit to Mr. Hwang, and today’s pick was a plaid skirt that didn’t leave much to the imagination as it was. With you bending down like this, you can feel the fabric follow the movement, exposing even more of you to the professor.

The noise of his belt being removed only makes it worse. You shut your eyes, trying not to picture him letting his pants drop to the floor, trying not to think about how much you wish this is what was happening.

“Are you ready?” he asks, giving you one last chance to back down. You should take it.

You shut your eyes and nod your head. "Yes."

There’s a whistle in the air, and you let out a gasp as the first blow lands across your ass. Fuck. You’d seen it coming, and the fabric of the skirt absorbed much of the impact, but it still spreads the first hints of pain over your skin. Another blow directly under the first one, exactly where it should be. You clench your jaw, your mind flying back to childhood memories, to the last spanking you received at eleven years old – well over a decade ago, and yet you feel much more helpless now, a third blow of the belt making you jump in your spot.

The next one breaks the pattern, hitting on a diagonal angle right on top of the other three. It’s harder than the others too, sharper, slicing even deeper into your already stinging skin. You cry out, unable to hold it back, unable to catch your breath in time not to cry out again when the belt comes down on your ass one more time.

He sets a rhythm of harsh, punishing blows. They’re precise and calculated, deliberate, like he really means each and every one of them. Of course he does – when Professor Hwang sets his mind to something, he doesn’t quit until the job is done, down to the littlest details. And right now, he seems intent on making sure no spot of your ass is left untouched by the belt. He gradually picks up speed, until you’re unsure when one strike ends and the next begins.

It fucking hurts. It hurts so bad you don’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed when the fabric of your skirt slides up and out of the way, leaving your bottom and your underwear exposed to him.

The pain is even worse when the leather belt makes contact with your bare skin; sharp and blazing hot, like he’s setting fire to you. You’ve bitten the inside of your lip hard enough to draw blood, but that doesn’t stop the sounds being ripped out of you, whimpers and cries and something that sounds way too close to Mr. Hwang’s name.

He pauses, his breaths heavy behind you. You collapse against the desk, elbows no longer strong enough to keep you propped upwards. With your ear pressed against the surface, you can hear your own heard that thumps wildly inside your chest, all your senses concentrated into a single point in your body.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks.

His tone isn’t judgmental, but your mind still echoes his words from just a few minutes ago: if you think you can take it. You’re not giving up now.

“I’m fine,” you snap, way too breathless for the statement to have any real impact, although your stubborn defiance is certainly there. “Just fucking finish it.”

His hand, warm and broad, finds its way in between your shoulder blades. He leans in, puts his weight into it, keeping you firmly pressed down over the desk. For some reason, your instinct isn’t to squirm away but to push into the heat, but you can’t move much one way or another under his grip.

“Then stay still.” His voice is so much closer to you, making you wish you had the strength to lift your head up and chase for his eyes.

Half a breath after the words are out, he strikes you again; this time with his other hand.

You sob and buck against the desk, the legs of it scraping against the floor. You can’t tell if his palm is better or worse than the belt. The pain isn’t as biting, but it’s broader and warmer, sending more fire into your already burning flesh. And it’s then that you realize you’re pushing into it, arching your back as best as you can, tilting your ass up to meet the assault. Basically offering it on a silver platter, presenting it to him and his ferocious, punishing hand.

And you’re wet.

You can feel it soak your panties, so much that you’re sure Mr. Hwang will be able to see a wet spot on them if he looks for it. Humiliated tears rise to your eyes, leaving you in a tumbling sob, desperately seeking relief but not wanting this to ever stop.

“M-Mr. Hwang.” The next strike hits you way too close to your core, the tiniest bit of friction that feels like heaven. You hiccup another cry, tears falling down and pooling over the smooth surface of the desk. “Please, I–”

You don’t even know what you’re pleading for anymore, but the word continues to leave your lips, over and over. His fingers come down hard over the sensitive spot where your ass meets your thighs, and you wonder if he knows what he’s doing to you – if he knows you’re on the brink of an orgasm just from this, that if he touches over you even for one second it might be enough to push you over the edge. He keeps going, alternates between one cheek and the other, his open palm covering as much skin as it can.

His hand travels down lower once again, warming your thighs to the same blistering heat as your ass. “God,” you breathe. You hadn’t noticed how hard your fingers are gripping the edges of the desk, your knuckles white, as if holding on could somehow save you.

He pauses again, and you can’t tell if you’re relieved or disappointed. You feel yourself throb inside your panties, wet and hot and neglected.

“Count them,” he orders.

You wince as his hand hits a sore spot, on top of skin that had already been hit too many times. “O-one.”

He lashes again and again.

“Two, three– fuck! F-four– fuck, please. I can’t, I can’t count anymore.” You’re unable to think straight at this point, unable to do anything other than cry and feel and want.

“God,” he sounds wrecked as well and you can’t understand why; you’re the one who feels as if you’re fighting for your life. He watches you, and you can’t decide if you’re embarrassed at your own state, the tears on your face and your ass that’s probably bright red by now, exposed to the professor, or if you’re too desperate for a release to think about that.

“It’s okay.” His hand lands on your hip, but doesn’t strike you again. It only caresses, his touch feather-light and delicate, a stark contrast to the harsh blows. “You did good.”

The light touch is enough to make you moan, breathing a deep sigh of relief. His touch feels unintentional, like he’s mesmerized, not fully aware of what he’s doing as he simply as he tries to ease the sting from the spanking. But when he drops down to press a kiss to the back of your shoulder, his body heat enveloping you – that can’t be accidental.

You lean into his touch as best as you can, and that’s when you feel it; something hard press against your core through layers of clothing, his cock a perfect, undeniable point of heat against you.

Both of you let our a simultaneous moan when you rub yourself back against his length. You want nothing more than for him to split you open, to push into you without a warning, without giving you time to adjust. Not that you’d last a long time, but you’d let him keep thrusting into you, having his way with your body until he was satisfied.

His hand slides under your bodies, inside your underwear.

“In-ho,” you sigh, a weak sound.

The sound of his name seems to pull you from whatever trance he’s stuck in. He stops, fingers just inches from your clit, like he’s only just realizing he’s on top of a student in his classroom. You try to lift yourself up, to rub against him again, but he doesn’t move.

He pulls away from you, and you feel like you could cry again in sheer desperation. Instead, you just stay there against the desk, wondering what the fuck just happened.

After a few moments, he lifts you up gently by the arms, turning you around to face him. He smooths out your sweater, but he doesn’t look at you. Not even once.

“You can go now, Ms. ____.”

You look at him in disbelief – first at his face, then at the tent that’s still very much apparent at the front of his pants.

“But–” you stammer. “Don’t… don’t you want me to–?”

He’s back in professor mode, organizing his papers that had turned into a mess. Still not fucking looking at you. His hair, usually neatly combed back, is now all over the place, and he looks like he’s about to break down himself.

“I’ll take care of the… assignment issue,” he says. “Go back to your dorm. It’s getting late.”

You don’t dare to disobey, even when tears rush to your eyes once again. Maybe it was all just about the assignment to him, and you got it all wrong. Or maybe – the thought hurts before it’s even fully formed in your mind – he regrets everything you’ve done.

It’s a short walk to your dorm, and you’ve never been more grateful that your roommate is not around. You throw yourself into your bed, hissing as your ass lights up in pain. It brings up all the memories back at once; the crack of the belt in the air, his warm hand stinging on your skin, the outline of his cock pressed against you.

You’re still soaked when you bring your own hand past your skirt and into your panties, not bothering to actually take them off. Two fingers slide inside, instantly finding a spot that melts your insides and makes you clench around yourself. Your other hand grips your own hip, intensifying the pain there.

“Mr. Hwang,” you moan, just to say it out loud. Your thumb brushes over your clit, just a hint of a touch and you’re gone, coming so fucking hard around fingers you do your best to pretend are his instead of yours, just at the thought of him doing this to you.

You come down slowly, so dazed you can barely open your eyes, but it doesn't bother you. Your ass has gone from searing hot to a dull, lingering ache, sure to keep you hurting for days to come. Good. You fall asleep thinking about it, thinking of his voice and his hands on you, trying to live in those moments for as long as you can.

[wondrluv]

୨୧ chronically online ; mc71

➪ summary: where macklin finds himself uncovering a crucial piece of his girlfriend’s personality… or 2 times when mack found out his girlfriend has an internet addiction

➪ warnings: uh... reader is chronically online, tumblr (?)

➪ word count: 1.6k

➪ emma's notes: mack ficcccc. one of my fave reqs i have to write and i'm so happy i actually wrote it. this was originally going to have a couple more scenarios but writers block hit hard but if you want i will go back and write more. ANYWAY, i have new taglist, go join if you want. okay bye, enjoy the fic

© wondrluv ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

From the moment he first met y/n, he knew he was in love. From the way she shied away from any and all compliments thrown her way to the way she stumbled over her words when he stared at her too long, he thought she was perfect.

But as time went on, he slowly started to discover the little moments where she looked around nervously when she thought someone was looking at what she was doing on her phone, or swiped out of a ton of apps and did something else before handing him her phone. 

It didn’t alarm him, or he tried to act like it didn’t. Because he trusted her, he knew she wasn’t doing anything that would hurt him, not a chance, yet it didn’t stop the weird feeling that settled at the bottom of his stomach whenever it happened. 

But little did he know, she was doing the furthest thing from talking to other guys.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

1. the one with the edit ; the tiktok uncovering

It did start as a few videos, it truly did. Just a few quick swipes, laughing at some dog who smushed his face against the glass, saving a video about a new recipe to try, commenting about how she wants to try a certain dance trend, etc.

Five minutes ago, she was having a hard time focusing on her homework. She’d write a few words and then her eyes would drift to her phone, ultimately leading to her picking it up and scrolling through her Instagram feed before moving to TikTok. 

And then it happened. One scroll too far and there it was, a bunch of videos smushed together in a 15-minute edit of her boyfriend and her eyes locked on the screen, unable to be torn away from the sight before her. 

She was in trouble, she knew that from the moment she saw who the video was by, but she watched anyway, because who was she to deny herself 15 seconds of staring at clips of her boyfriend?

One edit led to another, which led to another, and another, and another, and you get the point. Because 20 minutes later, she was still finding new edits she hadn’t liked or saved yet, giggling at each one. She was so entranced by the videos that she didn’t even hear the soft knock on her dorm room door, nor it clicking open, and the thudding of shoes being kicked off. 

“Babe?”

Her head snapped up, her fingers moving at a rapid, automatic pace to swipe out of the app and shut the phone off, turning around with an innocent smile on her face, “Hi!”

Macklin’s eyes narrowed, a curious look making its way on his face, “What’re you doing?”

“Working on my paper, really time-consuming.”

“Mhm. So why was it that I saw you were active on TikTok before I left to come here?”

“Oh, I don’t know, must’ve been a glitch or something.”

Y/n turned back to her computer, hiding the redness that grew on her cheeks, pretending to type away at the next paragraph about the book she had just read. And it worked, for a bit. Mack took his seat in front of her, draping her legs across his lap, his thumb rubbing circles against her calf as she worked, the exchange a brief moment in time. 

But then he glanced over at her, noticing the small giggle that escaped her and the bright smile on her lips. He raised an eyebrow, his fingers pausing their ministrations, his phone dropping from his hand. 

He didn’t say anything, careful not to alert her that he knew she was, in fact, not working on her literature paper. Standing up and making his way to the bathroom just long enough for her to not think much of it before cutting back, standing behind her, and looking over her shoulder.

It took him a second to fully process what he was seeing, because in all honesty, he was not expecting this. The video after video of clips of him popping up on her computer screen, the movements that seemed robotic as she liked and saved it to a folder titled “macky <3” in her bookmarked TikToks. 

He smirked, tapping her shoulder, “Having fun there, baby?”

Y/n’s eyes widened, slamming her laptop shut, and turning to look at him with a hesitant smile, “Hey.”

“Don’t hide now, I already saw it.” He leaned down, pressing his nose to her neck as his lips brushed her skin. “Can’t believe I was worried about what you were giggling about, turns out it was just me.”

“Shut up.” She grumbled, ignoring the heat that rose on her cheeks. 

“Never. I’m holding this as blackmail material for years to come.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Aw, baby. Don’t worry, I think it’s cute that you like watching edits of me. Adorable, even.”

“I literally hate you.” 

“Don’t pout at me.” He poked her cheek, “And no, you don’t. Because if you did, you wouldn’t have over 100 videos of me saved in a folder called Macky with a heart.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, gorgeous.”

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

2. the one with willmack ; the tumblr uncovering

She was careful this time, this was the one thing she was determined to keep Mack from finding out. Her Tumblr account. 

She’d made it way before she started dating him; it was something she did one night and never turned back. And the moment she ran into Mack? She was determined to never ever utter another word about her blog into existence. 

It grew harder and harder each day that she spent around Mack, trying to play her laughs about a post she saw as something her friend had sent, something he wouldn’t understand, so he’d forget about it and move on. 

Tried not to let him see her late-night deep dives on Tumblr where she scrolled, reblogged, and posted her thoughts about her boyfriend as he lay next to her, arm wrapped around her waist loosely, head buried into her shoulder. 

And she was careful, extremely careful. She knew the signs when he’d start to wake up, made sure she knew when he was coming over after a game, and did everything to make sure this stayed hidden. Because as much as she loved him and knew he loved her. This? This was sacred. 

But she should’ve known, some secrets aren’t meant to last forever. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

It was late one night, Mack was asleep next to her, completely oblivious to the world around him, as he cuddled into his girlfriend’s side, as he snored softly. 

Y/n on the other hand? She was an hour deep in Tumblr Willmack lore. 

Just like everything she did, it started off as a simple few scrolls, a few likes of gifs of Mack and Will together, smiling at how happy he looked with each post she saw. Then a click of the willmack tag later, here she was, reblogging TikTok’s of them, stifling her laughter at the Tumblr posts over pictures of them, posting things about how she wished someone would look at her the way Will and Mack looked at each other, etc.

It wasn’t that she was oblivious to the Willmack lore, quite the opposite, actually. She was one of their biggest supporters, because how do two people look at each other the way they look at each other? But she never scrolled for an hour about them, studying each and every picture like she was about to take an exam on their relationship. 

She stiffened when she felt Mack move beside her, swiping out of the app with ease, eyes glancing toward his sleeping figure. She smiled softly, running her hands through his hair, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as he settled again, grip tightening before drifting off the sleep again. 

She resumed her scrolling, not knowing that Mack had not gone back to sleep, his eyes staring blearily at her phone screen to try and figure out what she was doing at almost 2 in the morning. He didn’t say anything, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room and then the brightness of her phone, his post-sleep making it slightly harder for him. 

Once his eyes finally cleared of haziness, he watched her scroll, confusion hitting him when he saw multiple posts in a row with him standing or sitting next to Will with little comments over them or beneath them. That was when he noticed the little “t” in the corner, an amused smile playing on his lips. 

“Are you on Tumblr?” His voice was raspy and low, y/n jumping at the sound of it, once again swiping out of the app. 

“No?”

“I might be half away, but I think I know what Tumblr looks like.”

“Why do you know-”

“That’s a conversation from another time, baby. I’m more focused on why you are on it, looking at the willmack tag. You got something you want to tell me?”

“It’s not my fault you guys act like boyfriends all the time.”

Mack just rolled his eyes, removing the phone from her grasp and placing it gently on the nightstand, bringing her closer and cuddling her to his chest. It was quiet for a few minutes, just the sounds of their breathing and the fan in the corner. 

“So?”

“So… I have a Tumblr blog, so what?”

“No need to get so defensive, gorgeous. Was just wondering.” He placed a kiss on her head, brushing her hair behind her ear. 

She pouted up at him, “Don’t judge me.”

“I’m not judging! I’m completely and absolutely enamored by you and your chronically online condition.”

“I’m not chronically online.”

“Yes, you are. And it’s okay. I still love you.”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

MC71 MASTERLIST ; WBB MASTERLIST

TAGLIST ; NAVIGATION

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° only threw this party for you

( sae itoshi x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — i fear i got very off track with what i originally wanted this to be

♡ word count — 2.6k

♡ content — sae itoshi x fem! reader, reader could be gn but i put fem bc i think i used 'girl' once or twice, drug use (implied), disfunctional family, childhood best friends to strangers (AHA), goes from ages 10 to 20, emotional trauma, regret, unrequited love, unsolved feelings, singular club scene, alcohol mentioned (once), not proofread :)

♡ synopsis — Sae Itoshi has been unknowingly giving you pieces of his heart for the past 10 years. At some point, there's no more to give.

── .✦ got the party bag with the purple pills

The summer you turned ten, you met Sae Itoshi properly for the first time.

You’d seen him before, of course—he was Rin’s older brother, the one with the quiet eyes and the half-zipped sports bag always slung over one shoulder. 

He never lingered after soccer practice, never joined the other boys who traded snacks or played keep-away until the sky turned violet. 

You’d always thought he looked like he was already somewhere else, like his feet were still in Japan, but his mind was halfway across the ocean.

You never spoke to him until the day your mother forgot to pick you up from school.

You sat alone on the front steps, legs swinging, homework open on your lap, and the sun slowly burning gold behind the trees. 

One by one, the other students trickled off. Even the teacher who promised to “check back soon” had long since vanished into the teacher’s lounge.

You pressed your pencil into your math workbook, erased something, wrote it again. Got it wrong. Again. 

You were starting to cry—quiet, angry tears that you blinked away before they could fall.

“You didn’t carry the one,” a voice said.

You flinched. Looked up.

Sae Itoshi stood beside you, shadow stretching long across the concrete. His tie was loose around his neck, his shirt a little rumpled. 

He looked like he didn’t care if he got in trouble for being here. Like rules didn’t apply to him.

“What?” you mumbled.

He stepped closer. “That one. You’re supposed to carry the one.”

He tapped your page once, then stepped back again. He didn’t sound like he was teasing. Just… stating a fact.

You stared at the problem. You hadn’t carried the one.

“Oh,” you muttered.

“Try again,” he said, but softer this time.

You glanced at him again. “Why do you care?”

He shrugged. “Because you look like you want to get it right.”

You hadn’t realized until then how much you needed someone to believe you could.

So you tried again.

And again.

By the fourth problem, he was sitting beside you. Quiet. Focused. Helping without hovering.

Rin eventually came running, shouting his brother’s name across the empty schoolyard.

“There you are! We’re gonna be late—”

“She’s doing math,” Sae said simply. "Be quiet."

Rin blinked. “You know her?”

“She’s good at fixing her mistakes,” Sae replied, standing up and brushing off his pants.

And just like that, he walked away.

You didn’t know it then, but that was the first time Sae gave you a piece of his heart—subtle, unspoken, and absolute.

When you were eleven, you told Sae about your family.

He had come over after school, still in his uniform, and you had opened the door with smudges under your eyes and a scratch on your wrist you didn’t remember getting. 

You didn’t bother hiding the mess in the living room. 

Didn’t bother pretending the yelling from upstairs didn’t make you flinch.

Sae didn’t comment on any of it. He just sat on the floor next to you and pulled out his notebooks.

He helped you study in silence until your hands stopped shaking.

That day, you told him about the stash in your uncle’s drawer. 

About the time your older cousin went missing for two days and came back with eyes that looked through you. 

About how your mom used to be softer. 

How you didn’t want to become like them.

“I want to change things,” you had whispered. “I want people to stop looking at my last name like it means I’ll end up in jail. Or worse.”

Sae was only eleven, but his eyes met yours like he already knew the weight of a dream.

“I think you can,” he said.

And that was that.

You were thirteen when he left.

The news came one afternoon, passed through the school halls like a ghost. Sae Itoshi had been scouted for a youth program in Spain. A real academy. A once-in-a-lifetime chance.

You didn’t say anything for a long time. 

Not when he told you. 

Not when Rin threw a fit and refused to talk to him for a week. 

Not even when the suitcases appeared in the halls of his house and your friends started whispering about it at lunch.

But when the day finally came—when the taxi pulled up and Rin was still upstairs, refusing to say goodbye—you stepped outside, heart thudding against your ribs like a caged animal.

“I hope you don’t forget me,” you said, quiet.

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

Sae stared at you for a moment too long. Then he stepped forward and pulled you into a hug.

You gripped him like he was the last solid thing in your world. “Make me proud,” you whispered.

He didn’t say anything. Just nodded against your hair.

He left that day.

Rin didn’t cry until after the car was gone.

Sae? He didn’t cry at all.

But something inside him cracked when he felt your arms around him—like a piece of his heart had splintered off and stayed with you. 

And he carried the ache with him all the way to Spain.

When Sae came back at fifteen, he was different.

Not just in the way he walked, or how sharp his jaw had gotten, or how even Rin didn’t seem to recognize the boy who came home with his bags already packed to leave again.

He left his brother in the snow, arguing, fists clenched. He didn’t explain himself.

He showed up at your door instead.

You answered in sweatpants and a worn hoodie, blinking like you weren’t sure he was real. Your eyes were duller somehow. 

Your smile a little too practiced. You spoke slower, but your leg wouldn’t stop shaking.

Sae noticed it all. But he didn’t ask.

You didn’t mention the rumors about your family. About your mom’s latest boyfriend. About the fight last fall that ended in flashing red and blue lights.

Instead, you watched movies together in silence. Ate popcorn. Shared a blanket on the couch.

“I saw Rin,” you said eventually, eyes still on the screen. “He said you didn’t even try to explain.”

“He’s in some teenage angst phase,” Sae said. “He’ll grow out of it.”

You snorted softly. “You’re only two years older than him.”

Sae shrugged. “I feel like I’ve lived five lifetimes since I left.”

You didn’t say anything after that. Just rested your head against the couch and let the credits roll.

The next day, you hugged him goodbye again. Told him to make it big.

Another piece of his heart—gone.

And you didn’t even know.

Sae didn't come home again for five years.

Not even for holidays. 

Not for Rin’s matches. 

Not when your mother was in the news for another domestic charge. 

Not when you stopped answering his texts.

He wanted to write. Wanted to ask. But every message started and stopped the same way.

Hey, are you-

I saw something today that made me-

Do you remember-

Delete. 

Delete. 

Delete.

Because what was he supposed to say?

Sae told himself it was for the best. 

You had your own life. He had his. 

If you really needed him, you’d say something.

But you didn’t.

And that silence began to rot somewhere deep in his chest.

He saw the list of players for Japan’s U-20 match and felt something stir. A strange, breathless thought

Maybe I’ll see her. 

Maybe she’ll be there.

He didn’t expect to lose. 

But when he did, he left the pitch before the final whistle even echoed.

He got on the first flight out. Didn’t wait for the press. Didn’t call anyone.

He told himself there was no one waiting, anyway.

The club was loud. Too loud. Sae didn’t know why he was there.

Spain was suffocating lately—too clean, too calculated. 

He wanted noise. 

Chaos. 

Something messy enough to drown the quiet parts of himself he couldn’t silence anymore.

The music pulsed. 

Lights strobed. 

Bodies swayed and twisted like smoke.

He didn’t drink. Just sat with a glass of untouched gin and stared into the dark.

Loud, stinky, and a blur of bodies. That’s all this place was.

But the club is alive. 

The air is thick with the pulse of bass that rattles your chest, and strobe lights paint the room in jagged streaks of color. 

You’re lost in the crowd, in the music, in the haze. Faces blur, shapes melt into the atmosphere, bodies bump and sway like they’re all just trying to escape themselves. 

You don’t know what you’re doing here anymore. 

You don’t care. 

You don’t need to.

The pills, the drinks, the strangers—you’ve learned not to question it. 

You take what they give you, let it flood your veins until everything softens, until nothing feels real, until you can float somewhere between the noise and the numbness.

Your heartbeats are the only rhythm that matters now.

It’s then that you see him.

He’s not supposed to be here. 

He doesn’t belong to this world. 

The world you’re tangled in, the one where you’ve erased parts of yourself to keep breathing.

But Sae is there, standing still in the middle of the chaos, his face carved from stone. He’s older now. 

More defined. Colder. 

His black outfit blends into the shadows, but there’s something about him that stands out. 

It’s him. 

Your Sae. 

The boy you once knew.

Your body freezes, heartbeat speeding up in your chest. 

The lights flicker, flashing neon red, blue, then white as if your heart has stopped beating and the world has cracked open. 

It’s him. 

You blink, and everything comes back to you. 

All the pieces—the way he used to look at you like you were everything he needed, how he used to pull you close when the world felt too heavy. 

How he would hold your hand while you studied, laughing together, promising to make it out.

But now, he's a stranger. 

Someone distant. 

Someone colder.

And yet, the pull to him is magnetic. You can’t help it.

Without thinking, your hand reaches out, fingers curling in the air—beckoning him, not with words, but with the kind of invitation that only the two of you understand. 

Come closer. 

Join me. 

For just one moment.

You don’t know why you do it. You don’t know why you need him to come to you. Maybe you’re just tired of being lost. 

Tired of forgetting. 

Maybe, just maybe, you want to feel something again—something like how it used to be.

Sae’s gaze locks on you across the floor. 

His eyes harden, and for a split second, you feel like he’s going to turn away, disappear into the crowd again, just like he always does when the world gets too real.

But then, he doesn’t.

His steps are slow at first, unsure, as if every instinct in him is telling him to stop, to walk away. But something pulls him in—something deep, something he can’t resist. 

He’s always had a weakness for you. A vulnerability that he can’t shake, even now, even after all this time.

When he reaches you, there’s a moment of hesitation, his breath almost shaky. His hands hover over your waist as if unsure of where to touch. 

He seems like he’s trying to hold onto something—anything—that might remind him of the person you used to be.

Your hands slide up his chest, slow, languid, pulling him closer. 

His body stiffens, and for a second, you can almost feel the struggle in him. 

Him trying to convince himself this isn’t a good idea, that you’re not the same person, that he should leave.

But you press against him, your lips brushing the skin of his jaw, your breath warm and unsteady.

“I missed you,Sae.” you whisper into his ear.

The words are slurred, the chemicals in your veins blurring the edges of your thoughts. But you mean it. 

You’ve missed him more than you’re willing to admit. 

More than you’ve allowed yourself to think about.

Sae’s hands finally settle on your waist, his grip firm but not harsh. His face is inches from yours, and for a moment, you feel a flicker of the connection you once shared. 

His eyes are darker now, colder, but you still see something in them—the boy who cared, who held you close when everything else was falling apart.

And then, before either of you can stop it, he kisses you.

It’s not like any of the others you’ve had in this club. 

It’s not hurried, not full of heat and urgency. 

It doesn’t taste of a mix of pills and weed.

It’s slow, almost tentative. 

His lips brush against yours like he’s trying to remember you, to bring you back from the person you’ve become.

You kiss him back, and everything inside you crumbles. 

You press closer to him, your hands weaving into his hair, pulling him deeper, as if the act itself can make him stay. 

You forget the music, the club, the lights flashing around you. It’s just him and you. Just the soft brush of his lips against yours.

But it’s not enough.

Sae pulls away, breathing heavily, his hands lingering on your waist, his forehead resting against yours. 

There’s a tremor in his touch, a quiet desperation. “You’re not…” he murmurs, voice low, almost broken. “What happened to you?”

You try to answer, but your head is spinning, your thoughts scattered. The words feel heavy on your tongue, and you can hardly keep them straight.

“I’m fine,” you say, but the way your voice cracks betrays you.

“No,” he says, his voice rough. “You’re not.”

His hands move to your face, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. And for a second, you think maybe he sees it—the cracks, the pain, the emptiness inside you. 

Maybe he sees what you’ve become.

But he doesn’t say anything more. 

Instead, he kisses you again—harder this time, deeper, like he’s trying to make it stop, to stop the pain of seeing you like this, of knowing he can’t fix you.

It’s messy. It’s desperate. And it’s not love—it’s a yearning for something lost, for a piece of you that’s slipped away with time and circumstance.

When you break apart, it’s not with a promise or an apology. It’s with the quiet weight of something that should’ve never happened, but did anyway.

You stare at each other for a long moment, and Sae’s face hardens again. The walls are up. The man he’s become is standing in front of you.

But his hands stay on your waist, a lingering connection. He doesn’t pull away. Not yet.

“I can’t stay,” he whispers. “I’m not… the person you knew.”

And you know it’s true. But you still want him to stay. 

Just a little longer. 

Just for tonight.

“Sae…please-”

He stood there, a million things breaking at once, unsure if his chest hurt because of you or because of the person you'd become.

But then he remembered the way you hugged him at thirteen, whispering make me proud into his shoulder.

And he turned around.

He didn’t look back.

Because this time, the piece of his heart that broke—it wasn’t given to you.

It was buried in the cold realization that he didn’t know you anymore.

And maybe you didn’t want to be known.

Sae boarded his flight the next morning.

No headlines. No goodbyes. Just a one-way ticket and a heart that had finally run out of pieces to give.

He stared out the window as the wheels lifted off the tarmac, and he imagined it—his final gift, the last shard of himself—falling from the sky like ash.

He left it there, on the ground, buried beneath flashing lights and bad music.

He left you there, too.

Because maybe you were already gone.

And Sae Itoshi—ice-cold, silver-eyed, always in control—didn’t cry when he landed.

But the ache in his chest never stopped.

lol this was literally supposed to give jay gatsby and...it ended up like this

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[veinsfullofstars]

Meet the Families: Bebebe & Jojojo

Everyone, say hi to Dedede’s mama and papa - a pair of lovebirds as different as day and night! Check below the cut for more deets and fun facts!

(OC info updated as of 04/20/25.)

Started 04/14/25, finished 04/20/25. | Childhood Friends AU Masterpost

---

Some fun facts about Bebebe:

-Bee is originally from Planet Earthfall and grew up helping out on her family’s farm... or trying to, anyway, finding her eye tended to wander away from boring farm work and drift towards the distant horizon instead. All it took was a handsome drifter and his tales of life beyond the stars to get her feet moving, sparking a sense of wanderlust that remains with her to this day.

-During her far-flung travels, she discovered the world of spectacle fights and pursued a career in an interstellar wrestling circuit on a whim, finding a knack for it and even earning a good bit of fame for a time thanks to her fiery persona, impressive strength, and skill with her weapon of choice, the great hammer.

-She met Jojojo during the height of her career, spotting him in a group of visiting Star Warriors who’d seen her latest match. She likes to talk about how much she enjoyed the slow process of cracking open his hardened solider exterior, of seeing just what it took to make him smile or laugh or share a bit of himself, of finding a nurturing side that he’d hidden away for so long (his battle skills were nothing to sneeze at either). She’d been the one to propose not long before her planned retirement from the circuit some years later.

-She loves food just as much as her son, having discovered many delicious exotic dishes during her travels (though she has a soft spot for the southern comfort food of her homeland). She jokes that she would’ve probably been an intergalactic foodie if she hadn’t joined the fighting circuit. She is a regular customer over at the bakery run by Para's dad.

-Bee is a kind and gregarious woman, well-liked by just about everyone and good at making friends of even the grouchiest souls (if her choice of partner is any indication). Though, despite having a veritable well of patience, it would not be wise to push her buttons too much or talk smack about anyone she cares about. There’s a reason they used to call her Madame Caldera in her wrestling days…

-Bee never really considered herself the motherly type until she and Jo came to Popstar and had her only son. Now she can't imagine not caring for the little tykes that run and play around her new home. She even took on a part-time position as a PE teacher and sports coach for the children of the village, happy to help keep them fit and active even if they can all be a handful sometimes (like, literal handful - she can easily lift most of them with one hand and toss them like basketballs if she wanted).

-Bee has loved her son from the moment he was born and would spoil him rotten if given the chance (one of the very few points of contention between her and her husband, given how much she tends to let the boy get away with). One can only imagine the absolute joy in her heart when Dedede asked her to teach him how to fight like she did back in her wrestling days.

-Even after decades of marriage, Bee still knows how to fluster her prim-and-proper husband.

Some fun facts about Jojojo:

-Jo is originally from Shiver Star, raised in a well-off family with parents who were (no pun intended) rather cold and traditionalist. He claims that the only good parts of his childhood were learning to play the piano and wandering through his family’s greenhouse.

-He left for the GSA at an early age (supposedly at the encouragement of a less-than-loving parent) and would go on to spend much of his adult life training and working for them. There, he rose through the Star Warrior ranks, facing many hardships and triumphs along the way, and even learned how to conduct the very elements around him into his weapon of choice, the longsword. By the time he’d met Bebebe, he’d become quite the decorated knight, practically on track to become a General had he not encountered some… difficulties during one of his last missions, ones that left him with a scar on his foot and a permanent limp, forcing him into an earlier retirement than he’d anticipated. He still keeps in contact with his commanders and war buddies through Paige and Sir Tort (definitely just for correspondence and not for long-distance contract work to fill the void left by his retirement).

-Though Jo has many an exciting and grisly tale from his time overstars, he’s not the best storyteller, his recounts often dry and monotonous even during the most heart-pounding scenes. He’s more of a stickler for facts, statistics, and order as opposed to the subjective and emotional.

-Perhaps stemming from a childhood spent on a planet covered in endless winter, Jo has always had an interest in plants and nature, finding their elemental power to be the easiest for him to conduct and control. He’d put it aside for a while during his GSA days (tending to favor ice more during that time), but rediscovered it after meeting Bee, her friendship and gentle encouragement leading him back to those old, beloved hobbies. These days, he helps out at the local apothecary in the village - run by Para’s mother - and practically fills their home with potted plants, caring for them and even giving his favorite ones names (don't laugh - he takes his plants very seriously).

-Jo is civil and respectful with most of their neighbors - talking mechanics with Bow's mom, or discussing herbalism with Para's mother, or trading tales of time overstars with Sir Tort - but he's not nearly as chummy with everyone as his more sociable wife. He has found a surprising camaraderie with Whispy Woods, though, appreciating the old tree for his wisdom when he comes seeking answers or advice, and for his patience when he needs some space or a place to vent.

-Though often busy helping at the apothecary or away on *ahem* off-the-clock GSA business, Jo occasionally makes time to train some of the older children in the way of the sword should they be interested. He is not exactly a patient teacher, but he is an effective one to the right students (as showcased by Meta and his - in Jo's words - remarkable aptitude for swordplay).

-Jo’s relationship with his son is… a strained one, to put it lightly. Though he does care about the boy and wants to see him succeed, he's not great at showing it, instead defaulting to methods of strictness and distance used in his own upbringing. He has a habit of piling expectations upon the boy, delivering curt critiques and passive-aggressive disappointment whenever he fails to meet them. Dedede usually responds with shouting, backtalk, and childish acts of rebellion that only serve to reinforce Jo’s frustration with him, leaving it up to Bee to mediate things and try to encourage patience between them.

-Even decades into their marriage, Jo is ever the gentleman and treats his wife with the utmost respect.

[archduchessgortash]

Unpopular opinion...

These two were NOT manipulating each other.

They tried, at first... but it didn't work. They were too evenly matched in terms of charisma.

Default Durge is a sorcerer with charisma for their casting stat and proficiency in intimidation (from their background) and persuasion (from their class).

Pre-tadpole Durge, much like Gale, Wyll, and probably Shadowheart, was unlikely to have been level 1. It is most likely that pre-tadpole Durge was between level 9 (same as in-game Gortash) and 12 (same as in-game Orin). It is also possible that, as a Chosen, they may have had their stats similarly boosted, akin to those of the Chosen we fight in-game.

If we assume Durge was level 9, without any special boosts for being the Chosen of Bhaal, they had 2 feats under their belt, which would most likely have been invested in bumping charisma up to 20, placing them 2 points above Gortash, who has 18 charisma. This means they would potentially have had an easier time convincing Gortash to do what they wanted than many players probably suspect.

I find it more plausible that they respected and admired one another.

When Gortash greets any other origin than Durge, he is in full-on charming yet pushy, cleverly manipulative tyrant mode. He needs the help of these prism-bearers to fix the mess that he surely believes that they, alongside the Emperor, caused by killing Ketheric, given Gortash is unaware of the Absolute's manipulation at the time.

Gortash is more friendly with Karlach, but in a more patronizing, saccharin sort of way, that sours very easily if she behaves as though she is even slightly troubled by how his actions have harmed her. He clearly and sadly does not respect her, in spite of how deeply she had previously trusted him.

He is also in his sassy manipulator mode when speaking to Orin and Ketheric in Moonrise Towers, in spite of the fact that they are allies.

With Durge, however, he appears not unlike a man whose mask has been torn away to reveal his true self. He is happy to see Durge in a much softer, more genuine manner than we've seen from him with anyone else. He feels like a different person with Durge, especially if met alone. Is this not how we, as real-life people, react to our safe people, the ones we trust, with whom we can be our authentic selves?

Let's discuss 'not looking for Durge' which many cite as proof that Gortash saw Durge as nothing more than a useful ally...

We, as players, have no reason to believe that Gortash had any idea that Durge was even alive until the scene at the start of Act 3, in which Orin confirms their survival and that she caused their brain damage and subsequent memory loss. I've found no evidence that Gortash knew Durge was alive before this scene. Why would Gortash look for them if they were dead? If they were slain in a Bhaalist duel in the Temple of Bhaal, what reason would he have to believe he would be allowed to see the body? If they were slain in Moonrise Towers, they were most likely consumed by the Absolute. It's logical and reasonable that he wouldn't look.

If he knew before the scene with Orin, why did he sound surprised, pleased even?

Playing devil's advocate, let's say he did know... we'll say Orin told him what Gortash tells Durge, that she humiliated them sometime prior to the start of the game. If Durge truly valued Gortash, wouldn't they have come to him, even humiliated?

Isn't it reasonable to think that, if alive, having not come to Gortash after their betrayal, out of shame or a belief that he wouldn't help, Gortash might believe that Durge simply did not have the same high opinion of him as he did of them?

We can take it a step further and consider whether Gortash knew everything--that Durge wasn't dead, that they were tadpoled, about Kressa's experiments, and how they became the first True Soul.

If he knew all this, he is definitely a consummate manipulator, even better at it than a vampire with over 200 years of experience manipulating people. That Astarion is using the main character is intended to come as a surprise to the player as a layer to his narrative, but I, as the player in my own playthrough, saw through him immediately. I know some people didn't. I don't know how they didn’t. He was obvious to me. Why, then, does Gortash feel authentic? It's certainly not a question of attractiveness. To me, they are both attractive.

Perhaps it is my logical brain recognizing the fact that there is no evidence in the game that Gortash was aware of Durge's survival until Orin told him in the scene at the start of Act 3.

Now, let's talk betrayal...

Durge's Prayer for Forgiveness is most likely pre-tadpole. More on that later.

Ketheric's intention to betray is noted in the document Elder Brain Domination, its context indicating it was written post-Durge's impromptu lobotomy, and most likely quite some time prior to the document we find in Act 3 confirming Gortash's intention to betray the others as well.

The entry we read in the Journal of Enver Gortash is quite clearly written after Ketheric's defeat at the hands of the 'vagabonds' as he refers to them. This could mean that Gortash never intended to betray anyone, not until Ketheric failed to recover the Astral Prism.

About the Prayer for Forgiveness...

We find it in the mind flayer colony. The likelihood that Durge would ever have written down their intention to betray the others pre-tadpole is a bit suspect, made even more so by Balthazar's post-note about Orin. I know we need the note for lore, but that could easily have been accomplished by making it a memory that returned via the narrator, as many other Durge-specific pieces of lore are provided to the player. The fact that this one is only in the form of a note has always made me wonder if Durge was forced to write it after the tadpole was inserted, most likely by Balthazar before sending them off on the Nautiloid.

If anyone has other evidence, especially the contradictory kind, please comment. I'd love to look at this further.

[trexiejan]

My opinion : Babs was deaged to be with Dick.

Okay so I've seen so many dickbabs shippers try to deny that Barbara was deaged to fit Dick for the purpose of defending dickbabs or make them look better i guess. They keep saying that wasn't the reason why she was deaged. they always point to the 1st time she got deaged.

like why are they so upset when they see people say that. I wonder if they care more about the ship than barbara as an individual character.

cuz if they truly liked Barbara separately from Dickbabs maybe all the anti-dickbabs comments wouldn't be an issue for them. 🤷‍♀️

anyway i'm going to explain why it's true.

here's the thing :

Barbara was deaged more than once.

Crisis on Infinite Earths wasn't the only time she was deaged, she got deaged again in other books/continuites.

So The real question is where did they deage her to be the same age as Dick to make them work not when was she first deaged. (we all know it's always in dickbabs comics where she's written as the same age as dick, i wonder why)

The 1st time she was deaged was in Crisis on Infinite Earths, it was so Jim could be younger but they only decreased her age slightly because she's still written as older than Dick, here is a panel from Secret Origins #20 that was published in 1986 exactly 1 year after she was deaged in Crisis on infinite earths (1985) she said Dick is too young for her and that batman is always the one on her mind. So Dickbabs during this time still has a big age gap so they're still unable to work.

The 2nd time or 3rd time she was deaged is in dickbabs comics where she was finally made the same age as Dick so dickbabs can finally work as romantic pairing. 

Instead of being older she's now written as a part of Dick's generation.

From a congresswoman to someone who went to highschool prom with Dick.

Even Tom Taylor wrote them as childhood sweethearts so he can portray them as soulmates in his comics. a huge wtf moment for me because Babs wasn't originally this young when she first met Dick 😭

pls She had a PHD, has been working as a librarian and congresswoman when dick was still a young boy in gotham.

Barbara is now written as a part of his generation and his one true love since day 1. (from an independent congresswoman to Dick's childhood sweetheart and girlfriend who revolves around him)

Before Dickbabs couldn't work because of their age gap but now they can work. thanks to dickbabs comics deaging barbara again and this time for the sole purpose of reducing Babs into Dick's love interest.

So Just because she wasn't deaged to be with Dick in her 1st deaging doesn't mean she wasn't deaged to be with Dick in her 2nd or 3rd deaging 🙃

Dickbabs shippers can deny it all they want but at the end of the day dickbabs wouldn't have worked out if she wasn't deaged to be the same age as dick.

and even if they're right, let's say for the sake of their argument they're right that babs wasn't deaged to be with dick, it still doesn't change the fact that dickbabs is weird.

Regardless if Babs was deaged to be with Dick or not, It's still weird to see Dick being put in a relationship with a woman who was originally a congresswoman when he was still in highschool.  

It's like deaging Batman into a teenager (like let's say it's because they want to make Bruce appealing to teenagers) but years later they decided to give him a love interest who is also a teenager as part of the new batman stories.

So even though his deaging has nothing to do with women or shipping in the first place, it's still weird to suddenly see Batman in a relationship with women who are a part of dick's generation knowing he was originally much older than them.

Like Bruce/Raven or Bruce/Starfire suddenly becoming a thing 🤢 No amount of deaging would be able to justify those pairings.

The same happened to Barbara she was originally a part of Batman and Superman's generation.

for goodness sake she dated Superman!!!! She was so much older than Dick.

Also remember when Dickbabs was originally a pedo-like ship and it was so controversial and hated the same way Brucebabs was hated today? Because Barbara the adult woman is kissing minor grayson but now she's fully making out and having sex with minor grayson in dickbabs comics.

The reason why Dickbabs fans don't want people talking about this is because they care more about making dickbabs look good than barbara's independence. They don't care that Barbara lost her independence, her phd, her solo careers, her librarian and congresswoman job because of dickbabs shipping.

They don't view Barbara as a character seperate from dick. Barbara is trapped in this relationship because of people like them. They don't fight for Barbara's independence. The only thing they want from her is to be the girlfriend of Dick and nothing else. It is so hard for them to let Barbara Gordon be independent and not just “Nightwings girlfriend."

Barbara's real enemy is the dickbabs ship. Before, she is able to stand on her own, but now she's nothing more than just a love interest who can't live without dick and too dependent on him and his solo books to exist.

DC really needs to get Barbara some actual character building that doesn't involve Nightwing whatsoever but it's hard to do that when she won't even stop chasing Dick nonstop like a dog in his solo books and thinking about him 24/7 because of writers like tom taylor who is always busy making babs' entire personality all about dick than writing solo babs stories.

Dickbabs is unnecessary and disservice to her character, it does nothing for her independence. She is forever demoted to Dick's love interest unless they free her from this ship.

poor babs she deserves better than people who only want to associate her with dick 24/7.

[dragon-susceptible]

Moonfam Extended Family Updated

(Different Paths AU - The Different Path Taken fic series)

Ayuret, Ethari's mother, is the oldest of the group. She's a Sunfire soldier who met his father, Elathin, at Moonshadow Market on the edge of the forest and just was immediately taken with him. She's about four years his senior but they were both in their 20s at the time, and after a whirlwind romance of the month or so she knew him before the Market closed, they both went home. She came back the next year with courting gifts, appearing as soon as the market opened. Fortunately for her, Elathin is also a flirt who was very receptive to her advances, and in fact turned the tables on her on multiple occasions. It was pretty obvious early on that he couldn't stand living in the bright lights of Sunfire territory, though, so she moved into Moonshadow Forest with him, where they settled and raised their kids in the village of Hollow Wood, a few days' travel away from the Silvergrove.

They had Averaa, their first child, about the same time Reldaar and Arethis, Runaan's parents, properly met in the Silvergrove. Neither couple is aware of each other at this point. Four years later, they had Ethari. A year later, Arethis and Reldaar got married. Three years after that, they had Runaan.

Ayuret worked as a village guard in Hollow Wood.

Reldaar was a gardener who charmed Arethis, the Silvergrove's most decorated assassin of the time, with sheer kindness and love. His softness drew her in as a comfort, and her sharpness made him feel protected/safe. They didn't really move in the same social circles but ended up hiding out in the same shadowed corner at a village festival and that's how they eventually hit it off and became partners and then spouses. Arethis died when Runaan was 3, because she returned to work after his birth and that's . . . sorta how it goes with assassination. Reldaar never quite got over it.

In contrast, Ayuret and Elathin survived into Ethari's adulthood. When he was 14 and Averaa was 18, she had an accident with heat-being form that made their parents reluctantly decide she needed to at least spend a few years living among other Sunfire elves until she learned better how to control her arcanum, so the ladies of the family left to live in Lux Aurea. There was no hard feelings though, both sides of the family still visited each other and sent letters.

Elathin fell ill when Ethari was 18 and nearly passed away. It was luck and Ethari's connections with some Earthblood healers at Moonshadow Market that saved him, but the illness took his sight. He sees light and shadow and that's about it, now. He and Ayuret actually took it as a boon - now they live in a Sunfire village near the outskirts of the kingdom together, a compromise between their original homes now that the light doesn't bother him as much. Averaa remains living in Lux Aurea - she found she loved the city life after moving there - but she and Ethari both visit their parents when they can.

After his father left Hollow Wood though, Ethari did too, disliking living alone in the house he grew up in, and he moved to the Silvergrove, where he met Runaan in his early 20s, with Runaan being around 18-19. Runaan wasn't exactly subtle and he was an even worse flirt, but Ethari is relentlessly smooth af and thought he was cute flustered. He and Reldaar got along quite well as people, though Reldaar didn't approve of them as a couple.

They knew each other for several years before Ethari brought Runaan to meet his parents and Runaan realized Oh He's Actually Met Ayuret Before, because she took a stint back on the front lines as a soldier after leaving the forest. "Terrifying woman. I didn't dare argue with her." It's the only time Ethari's seen Runaan truly intimidated by someone. Ayuret at home is very different than the stern, uncompromising woman he met in the field though, much warmer and softer this time around. Elathin has some concerns about Runaan's duty but admits he's got no room to speak, he married a soldier after all. He just reminds Ethari there's always a chance their partners won't come home, and to be prepared for it. Very prone to making blind jokes. So sensitive to light that with how bright Ayuret keeps their home, he tends to be able to navigate from room to room just fine, and he's learned their yard and a short ways around the house very well; he mostly needs help when they actually go to markets or places that change a lot or have crowds. At this point both of them are pretty much homebodies though.

All of Ethari's family adore Rayla, though they only really got to know her well after her parents left her with Ruthari. Ayuret regularly bites back calling Rayla her granddaughter. Averaa has no such qualms about calling Rayla her little niece, despite the way it makes her brother flinch and Rayla roll her eyes. Elathin keeps his mouth shut because he understands the position Ruthari are in better, but he's sympathetic to it too, and treats Rayla with as much love as an official grandchild even though he can't say it.

(It took some relearning for him to resume work after losing his sight, and his crafts are more tactile than they used to be, with higher reliefs in the art so that he can properly picture them - but he's back in the business of jewellery making now. He just relies on Ayuret to get him materials more, and does more wire bending than direct forging.)

Ayuret thoroughly approves of Runaan, and would have gotten along well with Arethis (probably did once or twice, though she didn't know who Arethis would become to her at the time and may not know it's the same woman). She and Reldaar have a bit of a rocky relationship, because Reldaar doesn't approve of their sons' match, and she strongly does. Elathin mediates a bit, somewhat understanding Reldaar's position though he disagrees with it. Ultimately Ayuret and Elathin are the only ones who are significantly in Rayla's life. Ayuret's largely frustrated because she genuinely thinks she would get along very well with Reldaar, it was just that they ended up waspish with each other whenever their sons' relationship came up. And then he went and wandered into the forest and they never got to resolve things. Elathin is less bothered by it, mostly just grieving sympathetically for how much pain Reldaar must have been living with to give up on seeing his son married.

(yes, I originally wrote in that Ethari's parents were dead too. I've decided to retcon it because TDP kills too many parents anyways, I've realized there isn't a single confirmed grandparent in the saga, so I've decided to change that.)

@lithuiwen2016, tagging for the lore post you were looking forward to!

[vodika-vibes]

The Daimyo's Cyare

Summary: You get to spend some time with your favorite person in the galaxy.

Pairing: Daimyo! Boba Fett x Reader

Word Count: 1356

Warnings: Tongue in cheek teasing, there is an age gap, but Boba is only 41, and the reader is, at the youngest, 30.

Songs: None

Prompt: N/A

A/N: This is my first time writing Boba, so I'm a little unsure about it. But I think I'm happy with it? Also, 3 stories in one day! I love DND Sundays~

Divider by Saradika

When you ran away from home at 20 years old, you kind of expected your story to have a bad ending. But you ran anyway. At the time, it was the only option you had. At least, it felt like it.

Your parents always expected too much from you. “You can do better” and “you’re smarter than this”, are mantras from your childhood, said daily by your parents, sometimes even hourly. 

Your parents had ambitions for you. In their mind you were going to be a doctor or a lawyer or an Imperial Officer. And they pushed, pushed, pushed…until you couldn’t take it anymore.

You ran until no one knew your family name, and then you shed their name like a second skin, and you kept running.

Eventually you found yourself on a Cruise Liner. Playing bartender to the rich and famous. People who don’t care who you were, so long as you continue to ply them with copious amounts of alcohol. While living on the cruise liner, which you did for well over ten years, you created yourself a dozen different times, until you became the person you are now.

You left the cruise liner when the Empire fell, and you found yourself on Tatooine, still as a bartender, only instead of serving drunk rich people, you were serving drunk bottom feeders.

The only real difference being the amount of credits you make in tips.

That was where you met Boba Fett for the first time.

The first time he came into your bar, he was clad in his armor, and was dripping malice. You mentally prepared yourself for a fight, and having to clean blood off the floor, but that’s not what happened.

Instead he walked over to you, and sat at the bar and ordered a drink that you hadn’t made since your time on the Cruise Liner.

You weren’t going to make it for him, originally. It’s an expensive drink, made with expensive drinks, but he swore that he could pay for it. And you decided to take him at his word.

He watched you make his drink with an intensity that made you feel like you were being interviewed. And when you finished, he pinned you in place with a stare you could feel, more than see. And then he set a handful of credits on the counter, and offered you a job.

And, well, your mama didn’t raise a fool, so you accepted the job. 

That had been a year ago, and you’ve never been happier. Never felt safer. You’re happy enough, in fact, that you’ve started considering reaching out to your family to let them know you’re alive.

“Credit for your thoughts?” You don’t even start when a calloused hand slides around your hips, instead you turn your head slightly and you smile up at Boba.

“Just remembering.” You reply lightly as you turn against him.

“Remembering what?” He asks as he adjusts his grip.

“How I ended up here.”

“Here on Tatooine, or here in my arms?” Boba teases gently, “Because those are different stories.”

“Hm. Both.” You beam at him and slide your hands up the worn material of his shirt, “Have I ever thanked you for getting me out of that dive?”

“You have, repeatedly. But you can always thank me again.”

You stand on your toes and kiss the corner of his lips, “Hm. Maybe later.” You slide your hands across his broad chest again, “No armor today, love?”

“I’m on vacation.”

You nod thoughtfully, “Fennec kicked you out of the throne room, didn’t she?”

He huffed out an amused laugh, “Maybe I should name her Daimyo, and retire somewhere.”

You laugh quietly, “Oh, love. There are less painful ways to die, you know.”

You feel him chuckle, and you look up as he bumps his forehead against yours, “I suppose you have a point.” His calloused fingers drag against the thin material of your shirt, “Did you sleep well, cyare?”

“Well, my pillow seems to have abandoned me early this morning,” You say with a playful pout, “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you Boba?”

“Hm. Sounds like we should invest in a proper pillow for you,” He replies blandly. “And then I won’t wake you up when I get out of bed.”

You drape your arms over his shoulder, “Oh, but I love my pillow. Even if you get up far too early.”

“You could always wake up with me.”

“Ew. Mornings.” You scrunch up your nose, and Boba laughs.

“Well then, you’ll just have to suffer without a pillow then, I’m afraid.”

You pout and lean against him, burying your face against him. “You could always not wake up early. That’s an option too.”

He drags his fingers up your spine and you shiver against him, “That’s not an option, and we both know it.” His fingers stop at your neck, and he lightly rubs small circles against the skin there, “So. You want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing?”

“You had that look on your face, cyar’ika.” Boba replies, “The one that screams that somethings bothering you and you aren’t sure what to do about it.”

“...I have a look?”

“You have a look.” He agrees.

“...I’m thinking about my parents,” You admit with a sigh, “I haven’t spoken to them since I was 18. They probably think I’m dead.”

He hums thoughtfully, “You don’t talk about them much, cyar’ika.”

You curl your fingers in his shirt, “Because I know you, Boba Fett. You’ll get all grumbly and protective.”

He raises a single brow, “Did they mistreat you?”

“My anxiety is a direct result of them.” You say with a shrug, and you smile ruefully when his grip around you tightens. Boba’s helped you through more than one anxiety attack. “They were just…they expected so much from me. Perfection was the expectation, and anything less than perfect was grounds for yelling and ridicule.”

“So that’s also where your perfectionist tendencies come from,” Boba notes mildly.

“I’m not a perfectionist!” You counter as you lean back slightly.

“You once polished my armor after I did because I didn’t do it well enough.”

Your face flames bright red, and you press your face back against his chest, “I thought we were never going to mention that again.”

“I promised not to mention it in front of other people,” Boba corrects with a laugh in his voice, “It’s just us in here.”

You huff out a breath and press your still flaming face against his chest. “Anyway,” You mumble against his chest, “They’d probably be so disappointed in me. Bartender my entire life. Never amounted to anything-”

“Hey,” He grips your shoulders and shakes you gently, “You managed to get through the Empire without getting conscripted into the Imperial Army, and you managed to live well on the Cruise Liner. Not to mention you work directly under the Daimyo of Tatooine.”

You muffle a laugh.

“That’s not remotely what I meant, cyare, and you know it.” He sounds amused though, “You were my personal chef for a year.”

“Yeah. I was a terrible cook.”

“The worst.” Boba agrees, “But how could I fire you when you were trying so hard. Plus, I liked looking at you, even then.”

You smile up at him, “That’ll be a fun letter. ‘Dear mom and dad, I’m the official eye candy for the Daimyo of Tatooine, are you proud of me yet?’”

“You’re a little more than just eye candy, cyare.”

You look up at him, a would be innocent expression on your face, “I know. I work directly under you, remember?”

He huffs out an amused noise, “You’re going to be working directly under me if you don’t watch your tongue.”

You grin at him impishly, “My tongue isn't long enough to watch, though Boba.”

His fingers twitch on your hips, and he returns your impish look with his own steady gaze. “You’re going to get yourself in trouble, cyar’ika.”

“Promise?” You ask with a grin.

His grin becomes sharp, and you squeal when he scoops you into his arms, “Oh, cyar’ika. It’s a guarantee.”

[wingsoverlagos]

This is a fun collection of quotes from the Let It Be Beatles Interview with Mark Lewisohn conducted on August 20, 2018. This is mostly for @mythserene's enjoyment, but it's also a fun lil supplement to this comment by @talking-perfectly-loud on a post by @anotherkindofmindpod, which includes some revealing, deeply salty quotes by Lewisohn from an episode of Nothing Is Real.

The below soundbites focus on Lewisohn's feelings towards the Harrison estate, particularly Olivia, though Lewisohn also lets us know that he considered suing George at one point. Italics used to indicate tone; bold font is added emphasis by me.

This is from ~1hr8min into the interview, after a discussion of Mal Evans diaries. Here's a partial transcript:

"No, no, Olivia Harrison doesn't want anything to do with me at all. Yeah, so it's very frustrating because I just want to make the history better and better and better and more and more correct, especially more and more correct in terms of balance on all four Beatles, but whatever."

This is a longer clip (6:26) from ~1hr23min in the original interview. They're discussing Lewisohn's falling out with Apple/the Beatles/George in particularly, which came about because he was falsely accused of bootlegging, or something like that. He's told a few variations of this story.

The first 3ish minutes give some flavor and backstory. Some choice quotes (they're at about 2:50, 4:35, and 5:42 in this clip):

“To the day he died, George blocked me, and Olivia blocks me in George’s name, and so it still carries on.”

“I’ve never, ever leaked, and that was why it was so galling to be accused of being a bootlegger. George Harrison accused me of being a bootlegger to my face in front of a whole film crew, the bastard. I mean, really. A horrible, horrible thing to do. I really should have done him for slander, and in fact at one point I was tempted, believe it or not. Because, you know, I’m a professional, I’m on a shoot, I’ve got a whole unit with me, and he’s accusing me of being a bootlegger in front of everybody, which was- he had no evidence for because there wasn’t any, but that didn’t matter. He was accusing me without evidence, and it was wrong, and um, you just have to put up with these things. These people, they can get away with murder. Celebrities, you know?”

Lest we think George was wilding out solely because of the bootlegging, Lewisohn helpfully clarifies that it was also Paul's Fault:

“The irony of that was that I actually had started off really well with George. I knew George from ’87, personally, and we’d had nice times, and it was- one of the things that flipped it was when I began working regularly for Paul.”

This was the part of the podcast that really took me aback, from around the 1hr43min mark. There's some chatter about Let It Be (the film), and then Lewisohn goes off once again about Olivia Harrison. He's quite impassioned, and then seems to make a conscious effort to talk himself down.

“I don’t know Olivia Harrison. I’ve never met her, which makes her- just- [angry] blocking of everything I do so ridiculous, because she doesn’t even know me. But if, as it would appear, she’s taken it upon herself to perpetuate George’s wishes, which is something that you might expect a spouse to do when their partner’s died, if the partner says, ‘Don’t ever allow this’, then she would take it as her duty not to allow it.”

This is followed by some hedging.

There are several other choice tidbits in this two hour Lewisohn marathon, but Olivia Harrison was foremost in his mind. But don't worry, guys, he's not biased!

[lovelytsunoda]

love is a losing game | cumulative authors notes

Welcome to the final chapter of ‘Love is a Losing Game”! Before I release the grand conclusion, I wanted to share the ideas and the inspiration behind a venture that made me feel like I was back in my Wattpad era.

When I first got the idea for this series, I had just finished watching the second season of Bosch: Legacy on Amazon Prime. I’ve loved cop shows since I was a kid and Bosch is as good as it gets. I also found myself drawn in to one character in particular: Detective Kevin Long, portrayed by former Days of our Lives actor Guy Wilson (who also recently subbed in for Jonathan Jackson on General Hospital). I admit, there was nothing redeemable about that character whatsoever, but his sad eyes and chest of tattoos captivated me. It got me thinking, since there was little background insight given to Kevin Long as a character, what if he wasn’t a bad guy at all? (Delusional, I know. He was so far past saving) What if he was desperate to protect the people that he loved? When I went back and started rewatching Bosch from the beginning, all the layers came together, and suddenly I had created so much lore going back to the very beginning, and I didn’t know what to do with it.

I was gasping to write fanfiction. A full bodied series, something that I haven’t done since my Wattpad days. I had all these thoughts and plot points, and they were consuming me. But I knew that if I wrote it for Bosch, nobody would read it. I’d call it a dead fandom, but that implied there was a fandom to begin with outside of sub reddits. and then I had another idea.

What if I kept the storyline the same, but changed the fandom, drawing inspiration from Bosch but creating something bigger? And so Love Is A Losing Game was born. Kevin Long became Jake Seresin, and Titus Welliver's maverick devil-may care detective Harry Bosch became Pete Mitchell (same character different fonts! you can't go one episode without someone saying 'fucking bosch') Jerry Edgar became Tom Kazansky, and lawyer Honey Chandler became Penny Benjamin. I didn’t originally want to make Bradley the evil Don Ellis (who I once saw described as 'evil James Hetfield'), but I was running out of characters to sub, and something about the power cop duo of Jake and Bradley spoke to me (and Bradley and don have the same moustache). See my diagram below for who plays who:

Included but not pictures is Mickey Garcia as Detective Rondell Pierce, Javy Machado as Officer George Irving and Ron Kerner as Detective Santiago “Jimmy” Robertson.

(Early chapter readers may note that before proofreading, some chapters had errors where I had typed so quickly, my brain moving a mile a minute that I wouldn’t realize I’d typed in the names of the Bosch character I used for inspiration instead of the character it was supposed to be. I’d be embarrassed every time, but at the end of the day I only garnered like 20 readers and just hoped they wouldn’t notice)

Fun fact about Bosch! Honey Chandler is played by Mimi Rogers, who was married to Tom Cruise before he met Nicole Kidman! Other stars include the late Lance Reddick, Matthew Lillard, C Thomas Howell and Anthony Michael Hall. Maggie Q is also set to star as Renee Ballard in the new season, as well as a spinoff about Ballard as a character.

Jessica’s story is so meaningful to me because it’s about growing from your mistakes and paying it forward. She had rough teen years, which she’s carried with her for a long time. In the end, it’s realizing she can still be redeemed, she can still be loved for who she is that allows her to move on. I didn't want her story to be seen as another girl who married the wrong man. I wanted her story to be about how far we will go to protect the people that we love.

To end it all off, here are some fun facts about Jessie and Jake, or as they were originally in my head, Jessie and Kevin:

The first night that Jessie and Jake sleep together, they go to see an Oasis cover band called Cigarettes and Alcohol

Jessie and Jake were originally going to take the detectives exam together, but Jessie chickened out which resulted in Jake getting promoted to vice as a detective before Jessie tested

Jessie had a heart attack while working on the murder of a civil rights lawyer, caving under pressure from her past, her crazy boss and the high profile nature of the case

Jessie and Pete/Harry go to Vegas together to investigate the mob related murder of a porn director, and that's when she first starts to open up to him about her past (after he announces that he has the only copy of her juvenile file)

She cried the first time she had to interview a murder suspect (who later turned out to be an undercover FBI agent)

Jake/Kevin was on his college rowing team

At the beginning of what would have been season 4, Jessie and Jake go to see the Killers in concert, and Jake gets so drunk that Jessie drives the Charger home (Jake is a sleepy drunk, and spends most of the next day asleep as well)

Their honeymoon was a two week cruise in Alaska. Her favourite port was Anchorage

Their wedding song was Wonderwall by Oasis

Jessie doesn't necessarily let herself get pushed around, per say, by Pete but she wants to be where the action is after Vegas so when Pete says 'hey we're tracking a murder suspect to a deserted forest island, dress warm and come with me' she doesn't exactly say no

Jessie cried the first time that she had sex with Jake. She was so overwhelmed (in a good way!) at the care and love he handled her with because she didn't believe that anybody would ever love her enough to be gentle with her and cherish her

While in Vegas, Pete's ex-wife (who's a professional poker player) got Jessie tickets to see Velvet Revolver at the Bellagio. In the aftermath of that trip, everybody in the department thought she was sleeping with Pete, even though that was the furthest thing from the truth

Jessie's first concert was Bon Jovi when she was fourteen. Jake/Kevin's was Nickelback. Their first *real* concert together (so not the cover band) was Greta Van Fleet

Jake is a menace on the road. He breaks speed limits left right and center and if anybody questions/honks at him he just turns the mini siren in the Charger on and pretends he's responding to an urgent call (obviously for Jessie's sake that changed after their accident, and then again when Rosie was born)

Neither of them are very kinky people. Jake goes to work and solicits prostitutes most days, and generally feels pretty grody and nasty afterwards, especially with some of the things he's seen in the line of duty. The same goes for Jessica, who quite literally sees the worst of humanity. She considers Jake to be her safe place, and her favorite position is when Jake's chest is pressed against her back, he's gently kissing the side of her head, and his thrusts are slow and deep.

Call him 'Detective" and you will have Jake Seresin wrapped around your little finger. He will literally do anything you want

Jake thinks he's a handy man but isn't. It's better to hire professionals (or call Jessie's dad) when something needs doing

Jessie rarely ever takes her car in for service. Most smaller things she can do herself, and she finds doing the repairs soothing. She once replaced a broken headlight on a stakeout to keep herself busy

Jake/Kevin has two older sisters, Jessie is an eldest daughter

[vindicated-truth]

(Originally posted as a response to @caroldanverscanrawme's post here, which I completely concur with)

I absolutely concur with all of it, especially the point about Lee Geumhwa, because yes, that's what I've also been saying from the start: Joowon is hellbent on pursuing Dongsik because he believed Geumhwa.

The problem was the miscommunication: Joowon told Geumhwa to only text him the number "1" if she found Dongsik—because he's already a suspect to Joowon—and instead Geumhwa misinterpreted that to mean to text Joowon "1" if she finds the actual killer, who turns out to be Jinmook.

But here is the most important nuance of all:

Joowon did what most people would not do, and that is to believe the victim.

He believed that Geumhwa was telling him that Dongsik is the murderer, and that's why he was hellbent on pursuing him after she sent that text and immediately went missing, precisely because he feels responsible for what happened to her.

(Even though—and it's important to point out too—he didn't make her do anything, just made her whereabouts trackable and handed her a way to communicate with him if she happened to see Dongsik.)

And here's also an important detail as to why he's hellbent on being transferred to Manyang, and why he's certain that the killer is there:

Because Geumhwa's phone is trackable.

Jinmook of course did not know this, as he thought of it as just an ordinary phone. Jinmook brought that phone back home to his house and buried it there.

And you know what else is near the area? What is nearly next door to Jinmook's house?

Dongsik's home.

You absolutely cannot blame Joowon for piecing together that Dongsik is the culprit at the accumulation of clues:

1) Dongsik was the original suspect 20 years ago, there just wasn't enough evidence to indict him because of an alibi provided by Jeongje; 2) Geumhwa texted him "1" when he specifically instructed her to only do that if she meets Dongsik; 3) The trackable phone's last known location, had Jinmook not turned it off in time, was in Manyang, in Jinmook's house, right next to Dongsik's home.

What's fascinating about Joowon's entire investigation is precisely that he based it solely on facts and evidences, and the entire unraveling of his character came later on when he discovered that evidences can actually be manipulated.

By actual people of the law, no less.

That's why he felt so betrayed by Cho Gilgu's confession—because it had never occurred to him before then that his strictly objective investigation turned out to be founded on fake and manipulated evidence.

Imagine how shattering that is for someone who has always prided himself on logic. If he couldn't even trust the evidence, then what—and whom—could he trust?

And to address this point:

Dongsik literally does nothing to try and dissuade Joowon from thinking he’s a serial killer! I genuinely can’t even remember him actually telling Joowon “I did not kill my sister”, because that’s never worked before; I think maybe saying that is triggering in and of itself because of how he insisted for so long and was only met with disbelief and vitriol. When you try to defend yourself a certain way and it never works, you eventually just learn to stop fighting it.

The thing is, I do believe Dongsik was deliberately letting himself be framed as the murderer, because it's the only way he can force the media to pay attention to what happened to Minjeong, whom he also loved dearly, and also because of his rekindled, desperate hope that perhaps this time, people would finally once again pay attention to the case of his sister, whom the law itself had already turned away as a cold case.

This is a man who has nothing left to lose after all. He knows he's already branded as a murderer all these years anyway. What's one more accusation, if it means the cases of the victims—Minjeong and Yuyeon included—will finally be paid attention to? What's a "small sacrifice" of letting himself be branded again as a murderer, if that's the exchange he gets?

He's desperate and crazy and has nothing left to lose. That's why he deliberately let himself be photographed in uniform when he was arrested without a warrant and taken to Munju police station. And I believe that's also why he let Joowon continue to believe that he's the murderer—because it means Joowon will continue to pursue the case just to prove that he is.

And Dongsik is confident about it because he knows he isn't.

What's a "little sacrifice" of being the brunt of all these cruel accusations by this righteous young cop, if it means this stubborn cop actually solves the case? It's not like Dongsik hasn't heard it all before anyway.

That's why he was actually pleased when Joowon made the announcement on national television the revelation that this is, in fact, a serial murder.

Joowon did exactly what Dongsik wanted from the beginning:

Bring the media and public attention back to the cold case of Lee Yuyeon's murder.

[theteablogger]

Can you give me a run down of Carlanime/Necromommycon's relationship with Andy?

I'm just going to call her "Carlanime" throughout because it's easier and less confusing. This is not comprehensive; it would be ridiculously long if I tried to link everything she ever said about Andy.

On February 22, 2005, Carlanime emailed Turimel about Chris/"Rennie Gade", the Marine sockpuppet that Andy had brought into the Bit of Earth Yahoo! group in 2002. She pointed out that the originating IP addresses for one of Andy's messages and one of Chris's were one digit apart, which strongly suggested that they were the same person.

Carlanime apparently continued to follow events related to Andy over the years and posted about him occasionally on her LiveJournal (LJ).

On May 21, 2011, Carlanime emailed Turimel a copy of Andy's "eulogy" to Brittany, which he had posted publicly in the DAYD Facebook group. This is how Turimel found out about Brittany's murder and Andy's plan to make the New Zealand hike in her memory.

During the spring or summer of 2011, Carlanime started working on a murder mystery novel starring a character based on Andy.

On October 14, 2011, CFC posted "The Other Side of the Wank", a 20-point defense of Andy, on her LJ. On November 9, Carlanime commented sympathetically on this post.

Also on November 9, Carlanime posted publicly on her LJ about Andy. She called Abbey a "joiner" and cast doubt on the idea that Andy (who she erroneously believed was 17 at the time he met Abbey) had deliberately started a cult. She referred to him as a "creative mentally ill kid" and suggested that he seemed like a person who wanted to help and to do the right thing, but went tragically wrong--all of which very much fit the narrative Andy has always promoted about himself.

Andy saw an opportunity in Carlanime's post and contacted her the same day under an alias (never2late2hope), asking/demanding that she call out Turimel, victim-blaming, and downplaying his abusive actions. He also contacted her under his own LJ name (thanfiction), sending her a long message about Brittany and castigating her for sharing the eulogy, which he claimed had been friends-locked. Note that he began this message by stating that he had friended her on LJ and thanking her for friending him back. Unbeknownst to Andy, Carlanime created a filter group on her LJ so that she and her other friends could talk about him without his seeing it. Finally, Andy sent Carlanime an exchange he'd supposedly been forwarded between never2late2hope (which was, of course, Andy himself) and Turimel, in which never2late2hope was trying to convince Turimel to reconcile with Andy.

CFC also contacted Carlanime on November 9, asking her to call out Turimel for victim-blaming Brittany and perpetuating facts that CFC said were false.

Carlanime replied to Andy and stated that she didn't expect them to be BFFs or necessarily to remain LJ friends after he finished reading her older, friends-locked posts about him. She disagreed that she owed Brittany an apology and shared her opinion that Andy had "an affective disorder". Andy responded to this by offering her "the full story from [his] side", making excuses for why the eulogy didn't ring true, and giving her unasked-for validation for being "a decent human being".

In her next message, Carlanime indicated that she was interested in hearing more of Andy's side of the story, apologized to him, and joked about his not exactly being a criminal mastermind. When Andy brought up "Catch Me If You Can" in his response, Carlanime said that she had "a serious Abagnale crush". Andy agreed that he was "kind of awesome in a very twisted way" and suggested that Turimel's conception of him was partly based on Abagnale.

Within a day or so of this exchange, Carlanime added Andy on Facebook. Here, she noted that he messaged her soon after to tell her how adorable her baby was, and subsequently gifted her two unasked-for drawings of her children.

In Facebook messages dated November 15, Andy joked about his "criminal mastermindedry" and asked again if she wanted more information on "the Great Saga". When she said that she did, Andy then sent her an extremely long email containing the latest version of his life story. In another message, Andy turned the entire story around on Abbey, as if she had victimized, exploited, and abused him. Carlanime let that pass without comment, asking him about commission prices instead.

On November 20, Carlanime announced that she would pay $25 per story for stories based on her character Mina de Malfois, to be printed in a zine. Andy asked if he could contribute, "or am I a bit too scandalous?" Carlanime said she would be thrilled to have a submission from him.

Earlier in November, Carlanime had been commenting on Turimel's LJ that she felt pity for Andy. Someone took exception to the way she writes about this and ended up advising her, on November 25, to be careful in her new friendship with Andy. In a filtered post on her own LJ, she did not take this well, stating that she believed that what happened between Andy and Abbey should be ascribed to mental illness and immaturity rather than malice--and that she didn't care if she was wrong.

By December 5, Andy and Carlanime were exchanging messages about the character that she had based on him. Andy had a lot of ideas for his background and the plot. On the same day, he told Carlanime, "If you don't draw the lines, I won't try to be your cult leader, but I also won't shut up for hours."

That same day, Carlanime posted that Andy had drawn the character that she'd based on him. She endorsed commissioning art from him, adding, "I didn't get indoctrinated into a cult, so you know it's safe."

Later in December, Andy sent Carlanime a Christmas care package.

On February 5, 2012, Andy informed her in a Facebook message that he had just learned that "[he was] a symptom of someone else's psychosis and everything [he] thought he knew about [him]self and [his] past…[wasn't] true."

The next relevant bit of information I have is from March 8, 2013, when Carlanime posted on Tumblr that Andy might have a different diagnosis than what she'd been told (which was "Severe Gender Disphoria [sic] leading to Dissociative Identity Disorder possibly comorbid with Borderline Personality Disorder on select aspects"). She said that she didn't care and that it didn't change her opinion of Andy in any way, adding in the tags, "Actually I think I am a sociopath so there".

On July 9, Carlanime sent Abbey an anon ask (which she later stated was from her) about Andy's dropping/ignoring a friend and claiming it was to avoid being "a danger to [him]self or others".

On July 10, Carlanime posted on Tumblr Rules for Befriending Sociopaths, in which she stated that for her, Andy was "For Entertainment Purposes Only". She added, "I am able to enjoy him so much precisely because I don’t need him for anything. It is not a good idea to let oneself need anything from sociopaths…". Carlanime wrote authoritatively on how sociopaths relate to their friends, asserting that no cruelty is intended when they ignore or neglect them.

On April 8, 2014, Abbey posted about Andy's attempting to push her into sex work and his mean-spirited, shaming comments on her body. Carlanime told Abbey that this had made her unable to find Andy amusing anymore.

On April 13, Andy texted Carlanime, asking when she stopped being his friend and just found him amusing. He claimed that Abbey had omitted important context for his comments: that she was the one who expressed interest in sex work, that he'd been supportive, and that his only remarks about her body were to contrast her favorably with "silicone size 0 spray tan barbies".

On June 1, after accusations were made that Andy had sexually assaulted a bodypaint model, Carlanime started anonymously sharing excerpts from Andy's emails and messages to her on lol_meme.

On June 3, Carlanime shared Andy's incredibly long email to her on her Tumblr. From this point on, she began regularly posting about Andy and responding to posts by Andy Awareness bloggers.

On July 8, Carlanime responded to Abbey's post about "Fish Skin Rodeo" In the tags, she said, "never have i ever been so glad to have ended a friendship".

Sometime in April 2015, Carlanime began reading "Sluagh" and live-blogging the experience on Tumblr. Among other things, she said that it felt like recruitment material and that she wanted to wash her eyes out after reading it.

On April 13, Carlanime began sharing Andy's messages and emails to her on tf-talk and posting about them on her Tumblr.

On April 16, Carlanime commented anonymously on tf-talk that from the ages of nine through eleven, she had engaged in fake channeling behavior similar to what Andy did, creating "an elaborate fantasy world inhabited with fictional and historical figures who were 'in contact' with us". She said that the last time she remembered engaging in that type of behavior was at sixteen. (On July 24, 2018, she admitted that this was her.)

At some point after this, she deleted her Tumblr, saying that she felt it was time for her to leave Andy alone. In the summer of 2018, she created a new Tumblr and told an anon that this was because she was enraged that the lie that Andy had been underage when he and Abbey met was circulating again.

From June 25-July 28, 2018, Carlanime spent a month responding to the FAQ page that some of Andy's friends had created, calling out Andy's friend Chris for denying that Andy was a rapist, and posting more about Andy's harmful actions.

On July 7, she posted, on Andy's behalf, an apology to the people he'd wronged in Los Angeles that summer. She later indicated that she and Andy were still in contact, that she recognized that he'd been cruel, and that she believed there was a possibility he could be cruel and hurt people again.

On July 19, on her Thanfictioning Tumblr, Carlanime posted about how she first made contact with Andy: by catfishing him, basically. It is unclear exactly when this happened. She made flippant reference to “the internet diagnosis of sociopathic serial rapist”.

On July 23, Carlanime denied being an Andy Awareness blogger, though she said she supported the existence of those blogs, and admitted that the "Fish Skin Rodeo" story had not made her dislike Andy.

On October 26, on Thanfictioning, Carlanime said that she didn't believe that Andy was dangerous or was ever a cult leader, and that he didn’t do anything that much different from other people in dysfunctional relationships.

On November 4, on Thanfictioning, Carlanime said that she didn't believe that Andy was a rapist and attempted to discredit Diamond's story.

Later that day, Thanfictioning's identity was revealed. (Here are all of my posts on Thanfictioning.)

Carlanime posted on her regular Tumblr a few times in July 2019, mainly to bait and mock me, and to reiterate that none of the beliefs she'd expressed as Thanfictioning had changed. In the tags on that last post, she wrote, "it's ridiculous to feel surprised or betrayed".

[ncisfranchise-source]

When Gibbs left NCIS, many believed that was the end of his story. Luckily for fans of the franchise (particularly of this character), however, the story didn’t end there. On the contrary, a spin-off prequel was born, giving them a better look at how things started in the NCIS world.

Even though NCIS: Origins is a prequel to everything that happened to Gibbs before we met him, the show also explores new characters and their lives.

I recently spoke with NCIS: Origins creators Gina Lucita Monreal and David J. North about how the idea for the show was born, the inspiration behind the episodes, and what could come next.

How Origins Came to Be

Creating a spin-off prequel for NCIS was an idea in the back of David J. North’s mind for a while because he always felt there was a story to be told. After being approached by Mark and Sean Harmon to tell the story of young Gibbs, he was in.

“I looked at it as this enormous opportunity to work with Gina, who’s the best writer I’ve ever known and one of my best friends,” North said.

The feeling was very much mutual as Gina Lucita Monreal jumped on the opportunity because she believes North is an amazing person and writer. For her, creating NCIS: Origins felt like coming home.

However, creating a show in an existing franchise always comes with the challenge of producing content for an already existent fanbase, people who know the stories and the characters, as well as the creators themselves. “We had a unique challenge,” Monreal said. “We wanted to create a show for our existing fanbase, honoring canon and the original show, but creating a show new viewers could enjoy just as much.”

While they worked to insert easter eggs and nuggets to honor the show’s canon, North agrees that the challenge is creating something for people who may have never seen NCIS, “if that’s possible after 20 years.” So far, it seems to have been possible

“I’m most proud [of the fact that] people can sit down and watch even if they’ve never seen NCIS before, and they’re not going to miss a beat,” North shared.

What has helped them reach their goal of connecting with new viewers is that the show is also available to stream on Paramount+. North said several friends have told him they binge-watch the show on the streaming platform because it gives them time to catch up.

“Continuing character stories and wondering what happens within the relationships of these people make [NCIS: Origins] bingeable,” Monreal added.

Even though, as creators, they’ve looked to create a show for all types of viewers, most people tuning in are Gibbs’s fans. North explained that they are excited to explore every part of who Gibbs is. Fans got to know him as Harmon’s version, but now they get a more raw version of this character.

“This version plays having just lost his family, the murder, and finding his way. We introduce how he became an NCIS agent through his friendship with his landlord. We’re figuring this out as we go, but staying true and honest to this character and having those discussions with Mark Harmon himself,” North said.

Monreal did point out that they’ve reached a natural pause in Gibbs’s backstory.

“We’re excited to dig into the other characters in our ensemble. So now we’ll get to feature Frank’s story, for instance,” Monreal explained. “All of these characters we were setting up in the front half of the season can now become a focal point for episodes moving forward.”

When we met Gibbs, what became important were the characters that surrounded him – his found family. Even though NCIS: Origins is in the past, they don’t close the door to the possibility of seeing some of the other characters that were important to Gibbs.

“We are very aware of canon, and we’re constantly checking it and making sure that we’re staying true to it,” Monreal said. “But we also understand that there are many opportunities within canon to expand our world, so we’re never closed off to any of those possibilities.”

The Essence of NCIS

While NCIS: Origins is a show that could stand alone, it is still part of a franchise that’s been on the air for over two decades. Therefore, finding what connects this show to the rest of them is important.

For North, it is about the chemistry between the actors and the writing. “After 20 years writing it, what’s special is what’s happening with the agency between the cracks. You want strong investigations and cases, but really it’s about the people solving those cases.”

While Monreal agreed with him, she also pointed out NCIS is about a found family. “I think that’s why people relate to it, because they can see themselves in that family, and we try to stay true to that as well with ours,” she said.

Nevertheless, plenty of NCIS: Origins helps it stand out from the other shows.

“We’re the first spin-off not to be based on a city. We’re based on a character, and now based on an ensemble of characters,” North explained. “Before there was so much high tech with forensics, it was all about solving the cases by putting pencil to paper, and we use the characters to solve these cases.”

But for Monreal, what helps NCIS: Origins stand out is the music. They have turned the music into the show’s focal point by using an 80s and 90s soundtrack. Monreal writes with songs in mind, making sure they make them part of the storyline. “She writes the actual songs into the script,” North said.

But fear not, even if the songs run out, the inspiration won’t. North and Monreal use each other as inspiration, writing things into the show that would make one another laugh.

They also write with the actors in mind. “I can hear their voices in my head,” Monreal said, “and that makes it so much easier and more fun to write. That is a driving force when we’re writing.”

[beanskelly]

Got any jersey devil headcanons? Especially for JD themselves?

You have no idea what you’ve done

1. Jersey has advanced healing abilities, and not only that but every physical injury done to his body makes him stronger (thus the power ups when you drop the nitro in the lab)

2. He is panromantic

3. He is a menace. He likes to pull pranks, especially on cops. He only saves his best ones for them (Jersey says ACAB)

4. He’s smarter than he’s given credit for. While growing up alone he would sneak into the library and read whenever he was bored. He has read just about every book in that library at least three times.

5. He didn’t learn how to fly until after the events of the game when he realized “shit maybe I should’ve practiced flying more”

6. He would be voiced by Tru Valentino (VA of Cuphead. In fact I imagine his voice being Cupheads but a little deeper)

7. Knarf immigrated from Scotland with his family when he was a teen. He worked multiple jobs while attending school so he could go to college (that’s where he met Reeds mother, Tara)

8. Phylis was created specifically to destroy Jersey. Knarf even fused some of her DNA with Jerseys so she had his strength.

9.After Phylis lost horribly to Jersey, Knarf kicked her out. She eventually found an abandoned warehouse and made it her home.

10. Phylis didn’t have a specific gender when she was created, but Knarf did refer to her with he/him pronouns during her time there prior to the events of the game. She didn’t even know that she even could be a girl until she found herself in the city. She befriended a group of trans women who helped her find a look she was happy with. She still hangs out with these women today

11. Dennis was eventually reinstated as Knarfs right hand man

12. Jersey and Phylis met again when one of Knarfs monsters started attacking the city. Jersey was hesitant around her at first but eventually began to trust her to the point where he started living with her in the warehouse.

13. Jersey likes redheads. Especially redheads that are a bit on the heavier side

14. Jersey can’t shapeshift, so he has to wear a disguise (courtesy of Phylis). It consists of a heavy leather jacket, a long black wig, and round sunglasses.

15. Jersey considered calling the demon woman after the fight, but couldn’t get a hold of her

16. Even though Jersey can heal fast, broken bones still need to be put back in place and cuts and scrapes still need to be disinfected

17. Jersey can’t swim. He hates getting wet.

18. Jersey can and will eat anything you hand to him if it’s food. Doesn’t matter how much or how fresh

19. Phylis calls Reed her sibling

20. Despite being nonbinary, Reed does not like gender neutral terms like “partner” or “kid”. The “kid” part especially because they find it infantilizing. They prefer to be referred to as “son” or “boyfriend/girlfriend”.

21. Knarf does try to get to know Reed as his son, even if his methods are unconventional. He also would never use Reed as a means to get to Jersey

22. Much like the original legend, JD has 12 older siblings. He has not met them yet

23. Jersey involuntarily chirps when he’s happy. He hates it.

24. He also purrs. He also hates it

I’ll update this as I think of more

[anneapocalypse]

14 and 20 for that ship meme!

14. Opinion on the importance of marriage?

It completely depends on the ship. I don't think every character would or should get married no matter how in love they are, or maybe they would get married under certain circumstances but not others. And for others, maybe marriage is extremely important!

(Spoilers for Red vs. Blue, Dragon Age Origins, and FFXIV: Heavensward ahead.)

I don't see Agent Carolina from Red vs. Blue, for example, as the marrying kind, and in my Mainelinaverse marriage is never going to be a thing. However I actually make an exception for Kimbalina, not just because I think it's something Kimball would want but because the institution of marriage even being a thing again is a sign of Chorus rebuilding and being A Society again. I still think it would take Carolina a good few years on Chorus to get comfy with the idea. But I do like the idea that she and Kimball eventually get married.

My Dragon Age OC Ilana Tabris never wants to get married and never does. She and Zevran spend the rest of their days happily and polyamorously in love and never marry. My other Tabris, Talith, is excited to get married and devastated at what happens on her first wedding day, and twelve years later marries Orlesian refugee Briala to offer her political protection and only after the wedding bells do they fall in love!

And as for Ariane in FFXIV... I do think marriage is something she's open to, though not something she'd rush into, and I think it is in her future with Urianger post-Dawntrail. (Fun/sad fact: Count Edmont tells her after Haurchefant's death that he was planning on proposing to her, which leaves her with even more heartbreak and messy feelings about what could have been--she totally would have said yes, but also never would have really fit in in Ishgard.) I think with Urianger the way it eventually comes up is probably that Ariane asks him if he'd ever want a kid (the answer's yes), and that discussion segues into "Do we want to get married?"

20. Who’s the ship’s biggest in-universe supporter?

Hah, that's a good question! Thancred and even Y'shtola both give them a nudge a certain point, but it's more in a "can you two get your shit together" kind of way. Alphinaud is weird about it at first because he's kind of had a crush on Ariane in that way teenagers do even though he knew it was absolutely never happening because he's too young for her. Alisaie is just kind of "Good for them" about it.

I'd actually have to say the biggest supporter is Ryne! (And I'm going to be so self-indulgent here and share a few snippets from a WIP because I feel like it.) Urianger has become like family to her, and he talked about Ariane so much during those three years, Ryne almost felt like she knew her too.

Minfilia had never met Ariane, but she had been hearing of her, ever since Thancred came and took her from Eulmore. It was Thancred who first told her of Ariane, the Warrior of Light. Not the ones who had brought on the Flood, but a Warrior of Light of a distant star, both like this world and different. He told her of other companions too, a group called the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, and of the one who once led them: Minfilia. The first Minfilia. His Minfilia, he called her. Then she met Urianger, who lived with the pixies. He spoke often of Ariane, calling her a "dear friend." One day, he said, she too would be brought to the First, and when she did, things would get better. Ariane was kind, Urianger said, and caring, and clever, and a skilled healer in multiple disciplines; in fact it was in part she who had inspired him to take up astrology, even in a world with no night. "Ariane sounds wonderful," she said to Thancred once, and Thancred let out a sort of laugh. "She's… quite lovely," he said, sounding as though there was something he wasn't saying. Minfilia had come to know the sound of that. "Though I dare say she sounds especially lovely when Urianger speaks of her." "What do you mean?" Minfilia asked, instantly curious. "Oh, nothing," Thancred said with a short laugh. "He's very fond of her, is all."

Ryne is very quick to notice that Urianger's fondness for Ariane is not one-sided, and she bonds with Ariane quickly too when she arrives, both because she's heard so much about her and because Ariane reaches out and treats her kindly and is clearly trying to get to know her as a person, not just as the Oracle of Light.

So when she realizes they aren't spending time together anymore after the First is saved... it really shakes her. It's like realizing something's wrong between two family members that you love dearly.

He was with Ryne at her astronomy lessons when the girl looked up suddenly, and said, “I haven’t seen you with Ariane very much lately.” “Ah…” he said, considering how to reply. 'Twould be fruitless to deny it; Ryne was an observant child. “’Tis true, we have seen little of one another of late.” He had meant to keep his voice light, but Ryne looked at him with an expression of some alarm. “You haven’t quarreled, have you?” “Nay,” he was quick to assure her, then added, “…not precisely. If we have been distant, the fault is mine.” “But you’ll be all right, won’t you?” Ryne pressed. “You’ll work it out? The two of you care so much for each other.” Urianger was at a loss as to how to reply. He longed to assuage the girl’s worries, and yet he could little assure of her of that of which he was himself uncertain. He reminded himself that Ryne could handle the truth—nay, deserved it. (As had Ariane. Had he only found a way to share it with her, without risking everything.) “Ariane hath asked time to herself,” he said at last. “There are times when another may ask the gift of our absence, and if we care for them, we must grant it. She shall return when she is ready… and until then, I shall respect her wishes.” Ryne nodded. “I see…” and Urianger could tell that it still troubled her. Nevertheless, she said no more.

[niaxbailey]

Full Name: Nia Rose Bailey Nickname: Nia Age & Birthday: Thirty-six (36), December 18th. Occupation: General Manager, Paradise Point Resort & Spa. Preferred Pronouns & Gender: She/her & cis-female Sexuality: Bisexual Hometown & how long in town: Manhattan, New York. In Briar Ridge for seven years. Neighborhood: Downtown Family: Tba, but they're not local. I might add one of her brothers as a wc. PINTEREST || CONNECTIONS

TIMELINE: - born in 1988, in the Bronx. - moved to Manhattan in time to be enrolled in a private elementary school. Age 5, 1993. - Age 18, attended Columbia. 2006. - Age 24, MS in Applied Mathematics complete. 2012. - Age 29, parents divorced. Nia left NY and moved to BR. 2017.

BACKGROUND:

Born the oldest of three to a 'new money' household in the infamous New York City, Nia admittedly felt pressured growing up to achieve. From the Bronx to Manhattan by the time she was six.

Her parents are both long-standing healthcare professionals who met originally as an EMT and ER Nurse.

Nia has always been a bit of a mathematics wiz, which was encouraged but in wanting the best for her Nia's parents tended to push her into a lot of extracurricular activities with a 'think of your future' and a smile.

It was consistently drilled into Nia that because of her race and background, she'd have to work twice as hard in life to earn respect. Not just from her parents, but from the private school she went to - the attitude from teachers, and her peers.

Track, lacrosse, debate - helping her younger brothers, given their parents' busy and demanding schedules. In the city that never sleep it often felt like Nia's early years were spent in fast-forward mode.

She attended Columbia. An Applied Mathematics major, who, graduated with zero idea of what exactly she wanted to do out in the big wide world.

She ended up working as a budget analyst, dating a family friend, and still very much feeling like she was going through the motions until well into her 20s.

Which is when her life was rocked. Her parents divorced, shattering the illusion she'd grown up with that they knew what was best & the path she was on had to be right because it was molded with their help and experience. Learning they'd both had affairs really split their family apart, her siblings dramatically taking sides and Nia finally decided she needed to get away from it all and make some choices for herself. Nia ended up in Briar Ridge by a bit of a roll of the dice, she didn't quite know where she was going just... somewhere. She'd stopped in Luther's, saw a job posting in a nearby restaurant window, and decided it seemed like as good of a place as any to stay if only for a little while. That turned into years, and Nia got to start fresh in the small town seemingly worlds away from her old life. Now, combined with her hard work and education, Nia has ended up as the restaurant manager at Alvaro's and she's happy to use her head for numbers in a way that she actually cares about. FUN FACTS: - She didn't get her license until after moving to Briar Ridge in her late 20s. - A bit of a gym rat, she likes doing those ridiculous themed runs. - Doesn't understand the concept of a day off. - She will agree to just about anything for the low, low price of a New York-style Cheesecake. - Really loves horror movies, but might also then answer her door with a baseball bat xD Feel free to look at her wanted connection page for plotting ideas!