#and this is only going to happen more often as I get back into the 750 habit I suspect......
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lightseoul · 2 days ago
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a/n. i really don't know where i'm going with this, y'all. but getting to role-play as a therapist and explore bakugou's psyche has been lots of fun, so bear with me. please let me know what you think and/or would want to see! maybe that'll give me an idea lol. (1.1k)
navigation. part 1, part 2, (you are here)
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“n-no.”
at that, the woman’s eyebrows shoot up, disappearing underneath her fringe. “no?”
“you heard me,” bakugou spits instinctively, immediately regretting how hostile that sounded not even a second later. “i mean, no, i didn’t.”
his therapist, apparently unfazed by his show of aggression—she must’ve gotten used to it by now, although he still feels bad when he gets testy—only jots something down in her clipboard before looking back up at him, an inexplicable expression etched across her features.
“do you have any ideas, then, why, for the first time in seemingly forever, you’re fixating on a particular social encounter?”
bakugou barely manages to bite back a scowl.
he hates it—this part. the part where his psychologist obviously has theories as to why he’s acting a certain way or how he’s actually feeling but chooses to ask him instead, in an attempt to draw it out of him.
as if talking about difficult shit in the first place isn’t already painful enough.
and isn’t that what he’s paying her to do? give him answers? why’d he have to be the one to wrack his brain for uncomfortable answers to uncomfortable questions?
“do you?” he then challenges, emboldened by that train of thought just now.
“yes,” she responds truthfully and without missing a beat it somewhat surprises him. “but as i’ve explained to you before, i think it’ll be helpful for you if we try a more active approach on your end so that any insights gleaned from our discussions become more personalized and stick with you longer.”
well, then. fuck.
the lady’s got a point.
“so,” she continues when he doesn’t reply, annoyingly aware her little spiel got to him, “any ideas? working hypotheses?”
“uh,” he starts begrudgingly, eyes roving over the bookshelves lining the room’s walls as he struggles to come up with another angle. then it dawns on him, and he looks directly at the woman. “i didn’t expect to see someone in here, and when i did, it caught me off guard.”
“that may be because most of our clients opt for virtual consultations rather than face-to-face ones.”
“yeah,” he piles on quickly, admittedly thankful for the validation, and for the fact. the absolute last thing he needs is to bump into some extras before and after therapy. “that must be why.”
“but how does that explain your, and i quote, ‘dumb as shit reaction’?”
bakugou instantly feels himself flame. he clears his throat, “i told you, didn’t i? it caught me off guard. how the fuck did you expect me to react?”
that must’ve been a reasonable point, thank the fuck, because the woman pauses in thought before nodding slowly. “i suppose you’re right.”
he narrowly bites back an of course, i am.
but then she’s spouting off again.
“although it’s interesting to me how your immediate reaction was to say hi, when that’s not really…how should i say, your style, based on our prior sessions and your personality test results.”
a pause.
bakugou scrambles for a bulletproof rebuttal. he comes up short.
the lady cocks her head to the side, curious. “how often would you say you mull over social blunders?”
never, he thinks to himself. because they never happen.
“i figured as much,” comes her unexpected reply, and only then does it dawn on him that he said the last bit out loud.
“can we talk about something else?” he finds himself suddenly asking, totally over this entire conversation. he can worry about being a loser and pathetically begging for an out some other time. right now, he just needs a break.
“actually, you’re in luck,” she checks her smartwatch, “the session’s just about to end.”
at that, his shoulders almost instantly sag in relief, which makes the woman laugh. he shoots her a half-hearted glare.
they spend the next few minutes summarizing what has been discussed, as well as the arrangements for the following weeks, with bakugou eventually throwing his bag over his shoulders and bidding her a mumbled goodbye. he tosses her a nod over his shoulder as he crosses the threshold of her office, mind already drifting to what he’s going to cook himself for dinner.
and that, for a typical session, he’s walking out relatively unscathed.
but then he does the stupid thing of looking up from where he was studying his trainers when a door creaks open, and he freezes.
because standing a few feet away from him, right beside the entrance to the restroom, is you, equally frozen.
he doesn’t know how much time passes with him just staring at you like a motherfucking idiot, and you, strangely enough, peering at him back, but it’s you who eventually takes a hammer to the silence.
“h-hi,” you offer, voice soft and quiet, just like how he vaguely remembers it from two weeks ago.
“hey,” comes his gruff reply, which would’ve been immediately followed by a wince at how rough his tone was just now had he not stopped himself in the nick of time.
at least he didn’t stutter.
“…b-bakugou, right?” you ask after a moment of neither of you saying anything, confirming his earlier suspicions.
“right.”
you nod, a polite yet somehow stilted smile on your face, and suddenly he’s mentally slapping himself. since when was he fucking bound to one-word sentences?
he decides then and there that this shit won’t do.
in an attempt to convince himself that no, this is just a weird outlier of an encounter for him, and that no, he’s not a fucking idiot like dunce face, and that yes, he is and is being perfectly fucking normal, he resolves to ask you for your name.
and he was just about to do that—he swears he was—when someone from the other side of the door calls out a name, and you whip to face their direction, breaking eye contact.
“yes, doc!” you holler back, and he watches you as you hesitate in place for a second, before turning to face him with an awkward smile.
“nice meeting you, bakugou-san.”
and then you’re off and shutting the door behind you.
he stands there for what feels like a few minutes, just blinking at the door in front of him, what must be your name echoing—again and again—up to the far recesses of his mind.
then: fuck.
he may or may not have just lied to his therapist.
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˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!
tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra @qyuin | @kalulakunundrum @cheezemanz @gold24fish @lunaryasha
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genderqueerdykes · 3 days ago
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I still feel really iffy about transandrophobia (a bit less so after your explanation) but the main thing confusing me is why is it considered the intersection of being a man + being trans when it stems from transphobia and misogyny? It can’t really stem from misandry because misandry is systematically not a thing. I’m starting to understand it a bit but i’m still SUPER confused. I also feel really bad that So Many ppl who believe in transandrophobia are really rude to transfems.
hello there. i hope i can explain things that help make sense of it a bit better. i appreciate you coming back to ask more. please note that i'm saying this to be productive and not to hurt your feelings or anything. i just need to point out some key things that i see repeated often in these conversations
it's not "believing" that transandrophobia exists, it is acknowledging that it exists. this is not a religion. this is much like gravity in that this form of oppression doesn't cease to exist just because someone doesn't believe in it. it's not like god, belief is not necessary. it will happen regardless of whether or not you believe it's happening
i really need you to understand that transmascs and trans men are PEOPLE above all else and talking over them and telling them they don't actually know what they're going through and need someone else to explain it for them is so fucking horrible. please don't do that to an entire group of people. transmascs and trans men ARE reliable narrators on their own lived experiences. why is it okay to freak the fuck out when trans men speak for trans women, but trans women are the only ones we can listen to when it comes to trans manhood? please consider how screwed up this double standard is. if you refuse to listen to trans men talk about trans womanhood, do the same when trans women talk like they know everything about trans manhood.
why is it considered the intersection of being a man + being trans when it stems from transphobia and misogyny?
because that's not what it refers to! trans men and transmascs experience misogyny but they're not using "transandrophobia" to mean "misogyny 2". it's specifically because they are trans MEN and nothing else. we did not reinvent misogyny, this is a specific experience that we face that people can learn about if they just listen to us talk about it!
transandrophobia is a specific type of transphobia that is directed towards trans men and mascs that is specifically directed at them because they are trans MEN and trans MASCS. it's NOT stock standard transphobia, transmascs & trans men are specifically being targeted because they are trans MEN. being told that you're "not a real man" because you're trans isn't misogyny. being told you're "not really a gay guy" because you're trans isn't misogyny. mocking trans men for not having deep enough voices or enough facial hair to pass isn't misogyny. telling trans men they're not real men because they don't have penises isn't misogyny. telling them they're not real men because they like women's clothing isn't misogyny. telling them they're not real men because they work in a female dominated field isn't misogyny.
mocking trans men who can't grow body hair for not "being real men" isn't misogyny. telling them they're not real men because they have feminine interests isn't misogyny. telling them they're too short to be a man isn't misogyny. telling them their face or body isn't masculine enough to be a man isn't misogyny. trans men getting misgendered for their voices isn't misogyny. getting called a "tranny dyke" or a "cunt boy" when someone finds out a trans man is trans isn't misogyny... all of these things are transandrophobia. these no longer have anything to do with being perceived as a woman, these have to do with being perceived/attempting to be perceived as a man/masc.
trans men are affected by misogyny too, but it's not the same as transandrophobia. as a matter of fact, telling a trans man that they're experiencing misogyny when they aren't IS transandrophobia..
I also feel really bad that So Many ppl who believe in transandrophobia are really rude to transfems.
i'm going to lay it down painfully easily for you, but when you say things like that, it really comes across as virtue signalling. i'm going to be blatantly honest with you here. it really sounds like you're trying to suck up to transfems for brownie points by saying trans men don't suffer any forms of oppression at all and that people who acknowledge that transandrophobia exist are mostly rude transmisogynistic assholes. you're participating in silencing trans men & transmascs for the sake of trying to look more Trans Friendly to transfems and trans women and we can see it for what it is. please stop. this isn't flattering. it scares transfems and trans women when you do this because we don't know when you'll turn that hatred, malice and ignorance toward us whenever the narrative shifts again. this does not make us feel safe around you.
acknowledging that transandrophobia exists doesn't mean someone is attacking trans women and trans fems. like i'm sick and tired of the "people who believe in transandrophobia are really mean to transfems" shit. it's not true! this is way over exaggerated for the sake of making trans men and mascs look bad. i cannot stress how much this is NOT true for every single person who acknowledges that transandrophobia exists. i have a lot of friends who acknowledge that transandrophobia exists, trans men, transmascs, and all other kinds of genders, including trans women and transfems! you know how many of them are ACTUALLY rude to or attack trans women?
0. none. i'm not saying those people don't exist but they are NOT the norm. hell, there are literally trans women who acknowledge transandrophobia exist. the world is not as tiny as you've been made to feel it seems. there ARE shitty people out there who acknowledge that transandrophobia exists, but it's not the norm. it's not the vast majority of us. we have to stop having this knee jerk reaction of "trans woman = defenseless pure cant ever hurt anyone constant victim always hurt by men no matter what the context is" and "trans man = evil because man subhuman deserves to die literally an attack to every and all trans women around them"
i would suggest actually reading the anons i get about transandrophobia if you want to learn more about it! please stop listening to people who AREN'T trans men and transmascs when it comes to what kinds of oppression they face. nobody else actually knows what they go through. please actually listen to THEM. it's not helping trans women by refusing to listen to literally every other kind of trans person. it's not alleviating trans women of the oppression we face to deny that other people can be oppressed, too.
also whether or not ppl wanna accept it, transmascs and trans men are human and you really, really do need to care about that. like genuinely. please just open your heart and care about transmascs and trans men in a way that doesn't involve throwing them under the bus to attempt to look better to transfems. it's not helping anyone. put your ego down for a good few hours and actually listen to other people- and yes, i really do mean more than just trans women. listening to trans women is great. we appreciate it. but stop silencing other people in order to do that. it's not necessary.
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coldfanbou · 10 hours ago
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Least Restrictive Environment
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So, this isn't what I wanted to put out. I got sick in the middle of the week, and looking at a screen has been difficult. I just happened to have this nearly finished, so I added a little bit more to it. It's part 2 of the Sana and Momo Kinkcember fic. That being said, it's pretty much just an update on what happened after P1 and smut, so it might be better to call it an epilogue. I'm starting to ramble anyway. I hope you enjoy it.
Length 2.1K
Sana X Momo X M reader
Once your relationship with your foster sisters had come to light, life became awkward in your home. The three of you would have constant sex when your parents were out; it didn’t matter where in the house it would happen; in the kitchen, bathroom, living room, everywhere was fair game. Your foster parents had had enough after a time. The smell bothered them more than anything. Considering there was no blood relation between any of you, they were okay with you being together; they just wanted you all to move out.
Together, the three of you were able to afford a decent place, renting a nice-sized apartment that quickly became your home. With the constant urge to play with each other, it was only a matter of time before Sana and Momo got pregnant. They were as happy as could be when they found out, and they wouldn’t allow their pregnancy to stop their daily activities. 
While Sana went out to get some shopping done, you were with Momo, your hands digging into her shoulders as you massaged them. Momo groaned as your hands unknotted the tension, feeling your breath against her back move her to push for more. You hadn’t had sex yet, having agreed to wait for Sana to come back. Momo figured she might be able to convince you. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at you, “I need you to get a spot, but let me take this off.” She said, making you pause. Momo lifted her shirt over her head, tossing it on the bed. The shirt was Momo’s only clothes, leaving her naked; considering how far along she was, she didn’t wear her bras anymore, and with the constant sex you all had, she had given up on panties long ago. Momo smirked as you asked her where she wanted you to focus. She reached back and grabbed your hands, “Right here,” Momo said, placing your hands on her engorged tits. You move closer to Momo, looking over her shoulder. Her breasts were weightier; her nipples had turned a darker color as well. The sight of her bare breasts turned you on, and Momo could feel your hardening cock against her ass.
“Oh, it feels like you need to get some tension out, too,” Momo said with a smirk. She has you squeeze her tits once before turning around. “Lay down for me, baby, and take those clothes off. Mommy is going to make you feel good.” You had to admit Momo taking charge aroused you more than anything, so you did as you were told. Once your clothes were off, Momo patted her lap, “Lay down here.” You rested against Momo, letting her adjust your position at will. In the end, she had her hand wrapped around your cock as she offered you one of her tits. You couldn’t resist; the large mounds were hypnotizing. You leaned in, running your tongue along her areola before taking it into your mouth. Momo’s hand began to move along your length slowly. You were growing harder, and Momo noticed, smiling as your precum began to cover her hand. “Oh, you’re so hard already. Does Mommy’s hand feel that good?” You nod, continuing to suck on her tit. “Are you going to cum soon?” She asked, speeding up slightly. In her pregnancy Momo had little patience, often wanting to drain you of all your cum as quickly as she could.
“Cum for Mommy,” Momo whispered into your ear with a smirk, her grip becoming oh so slightly stronger. You groan as she moves her hand along your shaft, her delicate fingers massaging the head as she moves to the tip. You can barely focus on her tits, Momo’s hand never stopped moving. Your groans only get louder, even as you suck on her tits. Momo’s breathy moans grow longer as she pumps your cock, feeling it begin to throb in her hand. “You can cum whenever you like. Mommy knows you have a lot more for her.” Momo cranes her neck, reveling in the pleasure as you flick her sensitive nipple with your tongue. “Mmm, keep going, baby; maybe you’ll get some milk.” Momo moans. You reach up and gently squeeze her breast, drawing milk from her nipple. “Ah! Don’t steal it all.” Momo’s breathing gets heavier as her milk fills your mouth. You feel her hand on the back of your head, keeping you against her chest as the hand on your cock begins to speed up.
You were getting close to cumming, and wanting to last a little longer, you tense your body. As you do, though, you accidentally bite down on Momo’s nipple. She yelps and squeezes down on the tip of your cock, making you cum. Your semen sprays onto her hand, coating it in the sticky substance. You quickly release your bite and pull away, apologizing as Momo continues to stroke your cock. “You can’t be so rough,” Momo says softly, bringing her hand to her lips. She drags her tongue along her hand, happily swallowing your cum.
She lays back on the bed, spreading her legs for you, her bulging belly more noticeable now as you take in her body. Momo notices your stares and places her hand on her belly. “This is yours, I’m yours.” She says with a smile. Momo moves her right hand down to her wet lips, spreading them apart slowly.  You gulp, your breath catching in your throat as you stare at Momo’s body. Grabbing your cock, you inch closer to Momo, your foster sister, your lover, the mother to your soon-to-be child. You rub yourself against her entrance, both of you cooing from the jolt of pleasure. 
Just as you’re about to push inside, the bedroom door opens. “Yah! You said you would wait!” You turn around and see Sana, her cheeks puffed out. “Don’t move! I get to go first!” The flustered woman rushes to take off her dress, slipping the straps off her shoulder and pulling it over her belly until it falls onto the floor. Sana waddles over to the bed, climbing onto it and putting herself beside Momo. The younger woman pouts, her brows furrowed as she looks at the shameless older sister. “You said you wouldn’t start without me.”
“It’s not my fault. He was giving me a massage, and I thought he needed some relief, too.” Momo retorted, a smirk on her face, and a feeling of smugness came over her. She turns to you, “You wanted me to help you, right?” Momo was trying to pin all this on you. You can’t help but appreciate the ridiculousness of her claim, especially when you both knew Sana would side with whatever you said.
Sana turns to you, expecting to hear an honest answer. “Momo seduced me. She started moaning when I was massaging her shoulders.” You tell the younger woman. Momo sticks her tongue out at Sana, who returns it with an angry pout. 
“You guys didn’t wait, so it’s only fair that I get to go first.” Sana says before reaching out for you, “Come on, let’s go,” Sana says, playfully kicking her feet. You move over to her and rub your cock against her slit for a brief moment before pushing into her cunt, her plump lips spreading as you push inside of her. Sana shuts her eyes and moans softly as you fill her; even though sex was a daily tradition at this point, she missed having your cock inside her. She runs her hands down your arms and intertwines her hand with yours, smiling at you as you begin to thrust into her. Momo pouts and gently turns onto her side, reaching over and squeezing one of Sana’s engorged breasts, letting some milk leak from her nipple. 
“Mm, you’re both so mean for leaving me out.” Momo whines, unbothered by the situation, just wanting to remind you both she is still there. The older woman turns Sana’s head and kisses her, continuing to squeeze her foster sister’s tits and adding to the pleasure she was feeling. Sana’s whines were muffled because of the kiss. Momo had teased Sana’s tongue, coaxing the younger woman to poke it out before she began sucking on it. Sana could only moan as you thrust into her cunt; she was being pushed to the edge as you both played with her body. You added to the pleasure, sneaking one of your hands away from Sana’s and using it to brush at her clit. 
“N-no, I don’t want to cum yet,” Sana mumbled with a grimace as she felt the waves of pleasure coming over her faster and faster. Her walls began to tighten around your cock, and her body tensed before she exploded, her cream covering your cock as she came. Sana cried out as you kept thrusting, pushing yourself to the edge.
“Sana, I’m cumming, “ you grunted.
Sana quickly pulled you in, holding you tightly against her chest. “Inside! Cum inside me!” Sana shouts, wrapping her legs around you in an attempt to keep you inside. It made you smile to see her so desperate for it, you were always planning on giving Sana a creampie, and this just made you want to do it more. You bury yourself inside Sana, pumping her full of your semen. Sana breath hitches as she feels your hot cum flow inside her. She smiles, and her body relaxes around you. Momo smiles and pinches the tired woman’s nipple before stealing a kiss from her. 
“Did it feel good?” It was a rhetorical question, but Sana answered anyway.
“As good as always.”
Momo wrinkles her nose before laying back and beckoning you to her. “Now it’s my turn.” The elder sister spread her lips much like before. You rub your cum-covered cock against her entrance, making her giggle. “You’re going to leave me all dirty.”
You lean over the pregnant woman, “You’re always dirty when we’re done.” You whisper into her ear. Momo laughs as you slide your dirty cock inside her, moaning as your thrusts begin. You watch as her tits bounce along with your thrusts. They had only grown bigger since she had gotten pregnant. The same could be said for Sana, but Momo’s breasts often stole the limelight. You held onto Momo’s waist as you thrust, moaning as her tight walls clung to you. 
Despite being tired, Sana still had enough energy to return the favor Momo had given her. She turned on her side and latched onto one of Momo’s breasts, suckling on it as fucked the older woman. “Ah, wait! That’s-” Momo bit her lip, her hums filling the room. You leaned down and latched onto her other breast. Together, you and Sana drank from Momo’s breasts, drinking her sweet milk. “That’s too much.” Momo groaned. Sana smiled, knowing that Momo was already on the verge of cumming because of her whines. She pulled away from her sister’s tit and kissed her, giving Momo a taste of her own milk.  While Sana was doing that, you made sure Momo’s breasts were being pleasured, pulling and pinching the engorged nub. Momo began to writhe, the pleasure overwhelming her.  
“Are you going to cum already?” You ask her, continuing to thrust into her wet cunt. 
Momo nods, weakly saying, “I’m gonna cum. Mommy’s going to cum.”
“Oh, you’re calling yourself mommy? I should do that, too!” Sana adds, smiling as she sees the grimace on Momo’s face. The older woman had prided herself on lasting a long time in bed, but since her pregnancy, she’s been cumming just as quickly as the rest of you. You grabbed Momo’s arms, crossing them under her breasts and holding onto them as you sped up your thrusts. Her tits bounced wildly as you rammed your cock inside her, Momo bit her lip as she tried to hold herself together, but it was futile. 
She cried out as she came, and you followed soon after, your cum pouring into Momo’s cunt. You pull out of Momo and lay on one side of her while Sana lies on the other, using her tiny fingers to pull on Momo’s hard nipple before moving her hand down to Momo’s belly. The older woman does the same, touching Sana’s stomach. “Don’t you think it’s great how big our family is going to get soon?” The cheer in her voice was enough to drag Momo into the conversation despite how tired she was. 
“It’ll be so big. Our little brother is going to keep putting his babies into us. Isn’t that right? Daddy?” Momo says, her voice going into a low, sultry tone as she refers to you as Daddy. 
“Of course, how could I not? Especially when we do it every day.” You say a bit of sarcasm in your voice at the end. Sana laughs, and Momo smiles at you, knowing that for all three of you, it was hard to resist the temptation.
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baepsays · 22 hours ago
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blood of a prey ⸻ Fushiguro Toji.
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cw: mention of animal blood, fem oriented reader, sex, ambiguous anatomy, she/her pronouns, outdoor sex, just sweet mutual pining and fluffy smut, kind of your forbidden love, third person pronouns.
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Emperor Toji often hunted alone. Be it that he didn't really grow up with a herd of people following him around praising his inadequate skills and pandering to him, or maybe because he was too used to scavenging and gathering some food for himself as well as the kids he grew up with, all by himself. It was always a competition, finder’s keepers. So it was easier to hunt by himself.
But after one point in his life, he never denied the company of one person, in fact it was mandatory to have you—his grand chancellor—with him at all times. Especially when he's out on a hunt to amuse himself. He never understood why the royals did that but as the current ruling emperor of the region he understands the need to go out deep into the woods with none but his wisest and most trusted. 
So here he was galloping into the woods on his black horse, around the area where one would often sight a boar. With you on his tow, on a contrasting white horse. You two have always been two different pieces of the puzzle who complete each other, and the entire picture. 
Toji spots a boar in the distance sipping on some water from a pond, and he tugs on his reins to get his horse to run faster. You notice him quickening his pace and match his movements by tightening the grip on your horse's reins. By the time you catch up to him he has already struck down the boar with his arrow from about 20 feet away. If that is not impressive I do not know what is. 
“That was an incredible target, your majesty.” you say with a calm demeanor. You were never known for your affective responses, though you have come to realize more emotions in the years you have known the current majesty himself. You have lost your temper on him about countless times, spent nights with anguish— drowning in worries about the kingdom and him. You have also found a reservoir in your physical pleasure and needs. You have noticed a little ball of tension forming in your abdomen and chest over miniscule actions performed by the emperor. 
Sometimes Toji would be aware of it. Other times it would a the most predictable course of action for him to comprehend what the he is making you feel— my goodness, viz; how right now he jumped off his horse which he stopped by the, now fallen boar, and goes up to it to pick it up on his shoulder, and getting some blood smeared across his face in that process.
“Do you think we should go over the slum reform plans once more tonight? I was not really satisfied with what was presented to us. Hmm?” He continues their conversation before the boar sighting, as if this was the most normal course of happenings. 
And yet stood there eyes a little wide, mouth open agape, shivers running on your skin, and a familiar unidentifiable knot is back in the pits of your stomach with the accompanying tightening around your thorax. It was as if you could not take your eyes off his green irises or the animal blood smeared across his cheeks. It really contrasted, yet simplified who he was— a brutish man with no regards for the royalty he possessed, but only what he could make of it. 
“Y/n?” He calls your name out to pull you out of that unresponsive trance.
“Yes, your majesty?” You respond a second too late from your usual reactivity, getting out of your trance with a final gulp to swallow down the desires ascending.
“Well like I was saying, I did not like foreign minister's proposal,I mean I never found the guy to be that interested in any internal affairs to begin with.” He moves to put the dead boar on the back of his horse, with ease of one of his hands, and the other going to rub off the blood on his face with the hilt of his hand, then pushing back his hair— which only just smeared the blood further across his face, all around the scar at the right corner of his lips .
You were back in your trance watching him move around effortlessly while his eyes landed on a singular firefly flying over both your heads. The sun had already set, it wouldn't be difficult to notice a firefly in the orange to dark transitioning dusky sky— what was scarce was the firefly itself. It has been a while since anyone has sighted a firefly roaming around. So he puts the boar on his horse's back and ties both of your rides to the nearest tree then grabs a hold of your hand to pull you towards the direction of the firefly’s path. 
“Those are-” you find yourself in awe of the sight before you. Hundreds, nay, thousands of fireflies gathered in a sparkle. 
“Fireflies huh.” He quipped beside you, his face breaking into a smile at the sight of a sparkle. 
“It has been a while since I last saw so many fireflies together.” He somberly says, with his eyes still trained on the fireflies.
“In fact, it has been a fat while since I last saw even one firefly, I used to catch them all the time you know.” he looks over at you now, though you have never been one to speak without reason, you've never held back from speaking freely in his presence —even at times when you try to hold back, you've never been able to. And when he looks at you, thinking you might be in awe of the sight to look away and reply to him, he finds your eyes in fact, halted, in his direction. 
“What is it? Are you alright? It has been a while since we ate, hasn't it? And it's nighttime already, are you cold or-” he never finished that sentence— as you leaned in towards him, your eyes looking into his eyes, a little glazed and unfocused even. 
He was probably expecting a kiss, at most, but he never in his life would have guessed what you did next— you held the clean side of his face with one hand, placed the other on his collar and pulled him in. Then close the gap between you two to only just graze your lips against him, to move up to his cheeks and give the blood smeared across his face a big stripe of lick. Followed by a few kitten licks to clean it all up.
And all he could do, shut up and adhere, for once. 
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The sparkle of fireflies swarmed the pond. The luminescent bugs mingled and brightened the forest along with the stars and the moon. 
All the while the ruler of the lands encompassing the forest and the vast beyond, had his most entrusted advisor— who is second to none but him — sat atop his lap, letting him indulge his nation’s grand chancellor as he pleased. With his lips engulfing the broad expanse of her decolletage and going back and forth between her lips and the span of her neck. Minding not to leave any visible marks, to not have his grand chancellor later present him with an agitated lecture. As much as he may enjoy the sight of that, he will refrain for now. 
“Your majesty- please move along, more.” the advisor pleads. 
“Goodness doll, have some patients.” he simply smirks beneath her as he replies. 
“I have had enough.” she deadpans, determined and starts moving her hips, to create friction where they are connected. 
Toji winces at the stretch around his cock, unable to hold back the moan and the urge to ram himself upwards. He let her momentarily take the lead of the course. It is only when she collapses on his clothed chest, well barely really— he was adorned in breezy black cotton button up shirt, showing off the huge expanse of his chest and collar bones— they were both still fully clothed, with the exception of his pantaloons being tucked down to accommodate his penis, while the advisor’s bottom half of the garments were all gone— the buttons were ripped off her trousers, her vest long gone into pieces of shreds, the poor button down shit hanging onto her shoulder by one remaining buttoned hole in the middle of her shirt. 
She throws her head back at a particular stretch down there and, the emperor finally loses it all, seeing his auxiliary fall apart on his cock barely holding oneself up by digging her nails into his bare shoulder— he tightens the grip around her waist and buttocks, letting himself mark her, only where no one but he can see. And he gives into his bodily and romantic desires, as he plunges himself deeper. 
“I - I sometimes look at you. And, and i just come over with- ” she sighs then continues. “ with these desires. Desires which are not explicable, and it tightens up my thorax and gut” she stops to heave out a moan and continues this time with her forehead on his, looking back into each other’s pupils. “Your, majesty.” she whispers. 
“Yes doll” he looks into her eyes as if she holds the key to all the answers in the universe, and to him, the minister might as well. 
“Those are the times when you feel, more than ever, out of my grasp. Do you ever feel similarly?” with those last questions she gives up, and gives into her own pleasures aided by him. 
“I never feel that.” he gives out a dry response. Making her turn her head to the side on his shoulder, to observe his face, eyes glazed, both arms limp to her side. 
“Because there is no moment I am not consumed by your existence, never, since the day you told me you belong to me over the throne. I know you by your scent alone. ” he confided into the crook of her neck, holding onto her limp body while he chased his own pleasure. 
“And there is no moment where I do not feel, as if you are slipping out of my fingers, despite your claims.” he confesses as he releases within your core. These fleeting moments are where he feels as if you are never quite in his grasp, at least not in a manner he would prefer.
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a/n: dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/omi-resources. header from jjk manga. i keep writing about blood dude wtf is going awnnn. have fun reading<3 i edited as much as i could last night so there still might be mistakes sowwy :(
THIS IS A LONG FIC IN PROGRESS [ CALLED ‘EMERALD SOVEREIGN’ ] IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED IN THE MAIN FIC PLEASE ASK TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST IN THE COMMENTS BELOW.
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Wait. Seriously, hold on. This post is hunting me right now because I think I can finally put my fingers on why USA Christianity is weirding me out since the beginning.
As an European, it baffles me how much of the population identify as Christians while acting and saying things like they've never read the Bible in the first place. Except they did, in some extant, because they're the one that quote it so often (we don't do that here, we might refer to a specific part but don't really quote the Bible?). So why, why do they act as if they never read love your neighbor, give the other cheek, Father forgive them etc.?
Because they want to be warriors actually. They want a wrathful God. And there is God's anger in the Bible, there is the wrath of God that must appealed and you must always feel guilty and ask for forgiveness*. But comes Jesus and what he says is basically 'no more'. No more wrath, no more anger, no more warriors. But humans love raging war.
And we fucking did throughout the whole history of Christians actually. You start by saying you're a warrior of Christ, that your virtue is your sword, your faith is your shield and so one. It's nice: you're being a good believer AND you get to have this badass, very virilis imagery of the warrior. But! If you're lucky enough, you'll even have a real war against some "pagans" (really, you don't have to worry about the specifics) and then! Ouh boy, you get to be a real warrior. Everything is perfect.
Which brings us to: why are these people not changing faith/God? Pick another, more angry God/deity or simply go with a "personal faith away from human's restricting religion". Answer: because it's so fucking hard. I'm studying theology so hard and sometimes it happens that I find Catholicism restricting, too verbose or too specific. Except I can't just ditch "my" religion. (To be fair, I also really don't want to because I decided to fight from the heart of the Church but that's another subject. Oh, and notice how I used fight --even I can't refrain from the manly warrior)
Okay, so what do we do? Well I say, we piss them off. And we do so by celebrating the fucking amazingness that is God made human just to fucking die. Jesus never won by any human standards. He was the ultimate loser. And ain't that absolutely beautiful? And humbling? How can you hate the Mexican who takes your job if God tell you to wash his feet as if you're below him? How can you decide who deserves right if you God tell you that you should strip yourself for a random stranger? I say we fight back by being unapologetically happy that God died for us. Not guilty. Happy. It's so, so beautiful that They love us so much and only want us to replicate a fraction of Their love to everyone we encounter. That we have to make ourselves a bit uncomfortable so a stranger can be a whole lot comfortable. That we have to renounce privileges and luxury so all human beings can have the exact same things and opportunities. That it is shameful to try to be better than anyone else. That it is shameful to try to be successful on our own because we're supposed to uplift everyone else before ourselves. That it is shameful not to be empathetic, vulnerable, open about our weaknesses etc.
So anyway, thanks OP because now I'm even more filled with spite that will fuels my love so I can spite their hatred.
*okay side note since you're still here: this is why in the first centuries, there was a heretic branch of Christianity very adamant on separating the Old testament God to the new gospel God.
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angellekookie · 2 days ago
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Always Been There | MYG - PART 1.
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Summary: Ever since the new kid moved into your cousin's old house, your life has been different.
Genre: Childhood Friends to Lovers AU, (half-sided) Academic Rivals to Lovers, it's romance- fluffy romance, maybe cliché (this is a warning)
WC: 5.1 K
Other Tags: Friend! Teahyung (mentioned), Cousin! Seokjin (mentioned)
Warnings: Brief mention of alcohol consumption, Idk if I missed any, but let me know.
Pairings: Min Yoongi x F! Reader
Dividers by @thecutestgrotto
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You never perceived yourself as a competitive child. You were usually quiet and reserved, often opting to be engaged in any book, watch television or play the occasional video game with your older cousin, Seokjin, who lived just down the street. This all changed one summer when your uncle got a new job in Seoul and had to move. Obviously, you missed him, he was your favourite cousin, your best friend. So every day you’d walk to your uncle’s old house hoping he’d come back from his new job and bring Seokjin home with him.
Days melted into weeks and the “For Sale” sign on the gate seemed to get bigger and bigger as if it existed solely to mock you. Or maybe it only appeared ten times the size because you stared at it so often, studying it, willing anything to change.
Summer's end brought you an initially pleasant surprise. This time, when you walked to Jin's house you saw people going back and forth taking boxes from a moving truck. Obviously, you thought that the day couldn’t get any better, your young mind not even considering that it could actually get worse.
Excitement led your feet through the gate and inside the yard where you saw a boy with his back turned to you. He appeared a bit shorter than how you remembered your cousin, but excitement didn’t let you think on that too much. Besides, surely you grew in the last few months, of course Jin wouldn’t look as tall to you any more.
The next five seconds happened both breathtakingly fast and painstakingly slow. The next five seconds changed what you thought was the best day of your life to the single worst day of your entire existence.
One second you were running towards your “cousin,” the next second you were making an unplanned descent, landing at the feet of who you later discovered was the son of your new neighbours.
At eight years old, maybe you still believed that kindness was the default setting of the world and expected the same from the boy looking down at you with his pale, chubby face. But whether it was disgust on his face, disdain—or maybe perhaps you were lucky and he just didn’t care—you didn’t know. What you did know was that you had to leave and you had to leave immediately.
That evening your parents barely managed to console you after you came home crying with a bruised kneecap. You were silent all through dinner and hardly gave any attention to what they were saying about inviting people somewhere and someone close in age. You had enough on your plate already with trying to forget the sheer embarrassment you had endured earlier in what you had once considered a safe space and the brussels sprouts your mother had insisted you eat tonight.
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After that day, Min Yoongi became a constant in your life.
As luck would have it, your parents were speaking about your new neighbours that night. About how they meant to introduce themselves to them so they would feel welcomed to the neighbourhood. About the son they had who was around two years older than you, and how you both could be great friends.
You never anticipated that your mother would become best friends with Yoon Misook, which meant that you would come to spend a lot of time with the Mins. Birthday parties, holiday celebrations, family get-togethers… if you can name it, you had to be there and you had to be there with him.
Min Yoongi loved being right. There was always unmistakable joy present on his otherwise expressionless face when he knew he was right. Like when he beat you at chess, or told you that tomato was actually a fruit- it didn’t matter because you still didn’t like eating them anyways. You enjoyed wiping the smug little smirk right off his face. The thing was that you loved being right too, or rather, you greatly enjoyed telling Min Yoongi he was wrong. Enjoyed telling him that the sun was in fact a star, feeling higher than any sugar rush could take you when you let him know that acetic acid wasn’t technically vinegar- just a part of it. This was much to the dismay of both your parents, your friends, teachers, and anyone else who had the pleasure of having you both around at the same time.
Although maybe you should thank him.
During the school year, some time after your first meeting with Yoongi, you were sitting in his living room completing homework. His brows were furrowed in a delicate mix of concentration and confusion. You had stretched over to his side to see what was the matter, to see if you perhaps needed to ask his mother or older brother for help. “Yoongi-oppa, what’s wrong?” He didn’t look at you, for a second you wondered if he even heard you. You were going to nudge him with your pencil until he said your name. “Don’t worry about it. You won't understand it anyways.” His brows furrowed even more as he continued to work on his assignment.
Now you weren't planning to help him by any means. He was older than you and you were sure his fifth-grade math would give your third-grade math a run for its money. But him implying that you couldn't even understand it struck a nerve in your young brain. “Lemme see it, please, please, pleasee. Yoongiii-” he released a heavy sigh and turned his workbook towards you. Of course you were pleased with getting your way.
There were shapes, you definitely recognized the triangle and other shapes. You also knew about perimeter, but as you read further down the page admittedly some of the questions you didn’t quite understand just how they expected to get all those answers from a few shapes. It was your turn to have your brows furrowed in confusion.
Noting the shift in your facial expression, Yoongi took his workbook back. You looked up to find him looking at you with one eyebrow raised and a smug little smile on his face. He was daring you to say something, anything. You knew that, but you had nothing to say. “I told you.” He’d said, and hearing your silence, Yoongi knew that he was in fact right and a chuckle managed to escape him. You only huffed and returned to your seat, barely managing to finish the last question of your own assignment.
That night you swore it would be the last time you’d let Min Yoongi look at you like that. Call it your villain origin. Sheer spite, divine motivation, whatever it was and whatever it took you knew you just had to be better than you were, better than him eventually.
You had spent even more time with your face buried in books than you used to. If you were an academic weapon before, you made it your mission to become an academic armoury now. The next few years saw you move from just being at the top of your class, to being the top of the school- overtime skipping a grade and ending up in the same class as your favourite neighbour.
You still remember how he was laughing with his friends, completely unaware of your presence until the homeroom teacher called you up to the front to introduce you to the class. He was surprised, you’d hardly ever seen him surprised by anything, much less anything you’ve done. He often had little to no emotions on his face and after eight years of knowing him, you’d come to know that any emotion outside of his usual scope of nothing was absolutely monumental.
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As much as possible, you tried to steer clear of Yoongi while at school except for some instances where a teacher thought it a good idea to have you both working together (that mistake was hardly made a second time). You’d quickly learn that in his first year of high school, Yoongi, who lacked any decent manners and people skills, was somehow popular among the students. You noticed how girls often giggled with their friends when they passed him, or how you would see him laugh more with his own group of friends than he ever did with you back home. This was understandable as the both of you only ever really managed to get on each other’s nerves.
Despite all this, he’d hardly ever let you walk home alone even when you insisted that you could walk home with literally any of your other friends, anybody but him. He says it's because he knows you enjoy his company though you refuse to admit it. “As if,” You would tell him. “Personally, I have better things to do than pretend to enjoy spending time with the likes of you.” You ignore the voice that tries to tell you that it's a good thing he’s here with you and not with one of the girls in his little fan club. You ignore the same voice as it tries to tell you that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
Instead, you swat his hand away when he attempts to flick your forehead. Instead, your laughs echo through Daegu streets as you run from him. There's no point in running. Of course, he'll catch you, just like he always has, and maybe he always will. So even though your lungs burn, and Min Yoongi is annoying, and you're not even close to being the prettiest girl at school, there's a big grin on your face. This moment was yours, yours alone.
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Once as you were preparing for your last lesson of the day, Yoongi sat down beside you in the empty classroom. Before you could comment on it, other students came in and started filling up seats one by one. Throughout the class, you noticed that Eunji had taken the seat to his left. That’s no problem, she and her ponytail could sit wherever they wanted. If only she didn’t keep asking him things every five minutes or so. You weren't counting. But you wondered if he could ever learn anything with her practically in his ear the entire time, you wondered if she knew she was distracting the entire class trying to breath down Yoongi’s neck.
You felt sick, maybe. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach and it felt just a bit difficult to breathe. But you also felt like you could burst. You weren’t sure if you liked it. Thankfully, class had finally ended and students began leaving as quickly as they came in. You wouldn’t have to endure... whatever that was any more.
You were just packing up when you heard a deep voice beside you, “If you stared any longer, given your track record, I’d have to believe you had a crush on me or something.” He makes it his mission to ensure you never forget the one time you tripped and fell to his feet when you were children. Due to either mild irritation, embarrassment or something else you could feel the blood rushing up to your face, so you decide to slow your movements in hopes that he wouldn’t see it.
“Please, Yoongi. Do I look like I'd want to waste my intelligence on harbouring romantic affections for you.” You hear him scoff behind you and you turn your head just enough to see him raise his eyebrow, looking at you incredulously.
“’Yoongi?’ We dropped the honorifics now?”
“We’re classmates, I didn’t think it was necessary.” You decided to face him, mirroring his raised eyebrow with your own, challenging him. “Is there a problem, Yoongi? I mean, if it’s so important to you I could always just start calling you ahjuss-”
"Yoongi, is fine." For the second time today there's a hint of surprise on his face, and the ghost of a smile that you weren’t quite sure what to make of it. You wanted to smile too, but suddenly you remembered Eunji beside him in class and the smile never came to be. You didn’t want to tell him that he had all the girls in the school to call him whatever he wanted them to, that perhaps you felt a bit intimidated by the older, more mature girls that he had around whenever you saw him. You didn’t want to tell him that because you’ve been actively avoiding feeling that way for some time. You didn’t want to tell him anything like that for fear of him actually laughing you to scorn, for fear of him hitting you with his infamous blank stare. You’ve had your fair share of first-hand experiences with it.
Instead of all the things you weren’t ready to face, weren’t ready to say, you tell him “I can’t walk home with you today. Me, Taehyung and Ara have uhmm, something. I’ll see you later.” There was nothing. But you left to find your friends before he could have a chance to say anything else to you.
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It’s been a year since you graduated high school. Summer brought you back to your hometown for the first time since you moved in with your uncle to be closer to university in Seoul. You weren’t the only students home for break so naturally, you ran into a few of your old classmates. Some of them mentioned a get together on the field behind the school that was coming up. You couldn’t not know about it. You remember barely stepping off the bus with Yoongi when Sooyoung greeted you both and first suggested the idea. That’s how you found yourself on the field with him (and the drinks) waiting for the others to show up.
Soon everybody that could make it sat down on the grass and Sooyoung started pouring out the drinks in cups and passing them around. The first taste is... bitter. You try to drink more, you’ve heard a few people say it's an acquired taste.
The night went on, conversations eventually straying away from the generic “How are you” and “what are you up to now.” to be more meaningful (as meaningful as it gets when alcohol is involved.) Socially, you were there. You contributed to the conversation occasionally- laughing when something was funny, nodding if you agreed with something, sprinkling in a “nah” when you didn’t agree with something else.
Occasionally though, you would stare at the amber liquid in your cup. It was taking everything in you not to gag when you took yet another sip. The cup is put down beside you, you don’t think you’ll be acquiring that taste anytime soon. Said cup gets to sit there for approximately thirty seconds before it finds residence in Yoongi’s hands. He’s drinking your drink. Yet you can’t find it in you to complain because you really, really don’t like it. You decide to leave well enough alone.
It’s not until a new cup is placed before you by the drink thief himself that decide to look at him. He’s not looking at you, of course he’s not. He never looks at you when he’s with his friends. Not that it matters, not that you care. At least it was nice of him to get you a new drink, maybe he’s a semi-decent human being. Your thoughts momentarily pause when instead of an involuntary gag, a pleasant, surprised hum escapes your lips.
His eyes have crinkled at the corners because someone just said something funny. He’s using a single hand behind him as support and is nursing a drink with the other. He looks as carefree as ever. You can’t imagine that he’d take note of something so small, something like that- even if you grew up together. You'll try to brush it aside, though you doubt it's something that you’d be likely to forget about anytime soon. There’s a warmth blooming in your chest, you’ll blame it on the alcohol from earlier.
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Christmas was just around the corner. The crisp, chilly air and stressed college students cramming for finals were more than enough to let you know the festive season was upon you. You sat in the new sandwich shop that you believe was strategically nestled between the library and the café. A cup of coffee remained untouched to your left and sandwich in hand, you were currently with your friend, Hyewon, who was not so subtly trying to get you to agree to go on a blind date. She's been trying ever since she found out your last date was almost a year ago, that it never ended well romantically, that you and Hoseok decided to become friends and still are today. "I'm telling you, he's really handsome and smart," said between a mouthful of her sandwich and a sip of her coffee. "My sister said he graduated from Yonsei this year with like, first class honours in economics or something."
"I'm just... still thinking about it."
And the truth is, you were. Ever since the topic came up nearly a month ago after one of your shared classes. After Hyewon got over her shock because "A girl like you should have dates every weekend," she took it upon herself to find you a date.
It's not that you were against dating, and relationships. During your earlier college years you tried a few times. Your first date tried to explain the basics of aerospace engineering to you, the thing you were majoring in. He was a history major, said he couldn't believe a girl could actually study something like that and asked how much your parents paid to get you in the program. You laughed it off and attempted to push it aside, that date ended early. You went on a few more dates after that but it always felt the same, like you were trying too hard to impress your date, like they weren't trying hard enough to get to know you. You decided to just focus on your studies. At the very least, you knew you were good at that.
“Please tell me yes- there’s a drone show next Friday at the Han River. You guys could watch it.” Hyewon looked so excited you promised to let her know by Monday. She squealed and you were sure you would have seen your ancestors if she had hugged you any tighter, told you not to forget to call her as she bounced off to her last final.
You remained in your corner seat. Unsure why you didn’t just leave with your friend. A couple of girls sat at the table behind you. While you were nursing your now cold hot chocolate you were hearing bits and pieces of their conversation. It’s not that you wanted to eavesdrop, but you couldn’t help the way your ears perked up when one of them mentioned ‘medical student from Yonsei’ and ‘date’ in the same sentence.
“I’m telling you he’s pretty quiet, and cute. I don’t even know how they got him to agree.”
“Ugh! I’m so jealous... should I transfer?”
“Shut up and look at the picture Kangchul sent me.”
“People like this really study medicine? If he looks like this, what will you wear on the date?”
“I dunno, it’s next Friday. You should come over and help me get...”
You didn’t stay to hear anymore.
Hours later you lay wide awake in your bedroom. Sleep has been evading you. It’s not like there was only one medical student at Yonsei. There were hundreds of medical students. It didn’t have to be the one you were thinking of. The odds were... low. You paid no mind to the tiny voice that was telling you that “the odds are never zero, though.”
You reached for your phone, surely you could always text the person in question, it’s not like you think he would hide it from you but in the same breath, it’s not like he has any reason to tell you if he were going on a date. Why would he? Your fingers hovered over his chat until the screen finally timed out. This seemed to wake you from your daze, the phone was tossed to the side. Why were you thinking of him anyway? If it were him, if he was going on a date, it definitely wouldn’t affect you. It shouldn’t, you won’t let it.
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It was 8:44 am the following day when you texted Hyewon that she could arrange the blind date.
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A week and a half later you found yourself standing outside of a restaurant in Hongdae. Your date was to meet you there so you could have a meal then head over to the drone show your friend mentioned. You’ve been waiting for... a while. Yunseo was running late and to make matters worse, when you pulled out your cell phone you found it was dead. It was cold, and you were cold, and maybe you were just stood up for this date. You wanted to cry, you thought it probably wouldn’t be that bad if you just broke down on the streets. Probably no one would notice if you did anyway.
Slowly, white flurries started falling from the sky. Couples started walking even closer together, some laughing at whatever they found funny. They all looked really cute. You really hated the cold, maybe you should have just stayed home. “You know,” came a familiar, deep voice breaking through the frigid atmosphere. “In my experience, standing in the cold like this is a sure fire way to catch a cold.”
You don’t need to turn around to know who that deep voice belongs to. You couldn't help the scoff that escaped you. Of course he would appear at a time like this. Why was he there and why did he have to show up just now when you were on the verge of a mental breakdown, probably. Your thoughts couldn't even spiral too far because now you were genuinely fighting back the tears that really, really wanted more than anything to be free. “Shut up, Yoongi. I don’t—” You couldn't help the way your voice wavered, or the sniffle, all things considered. “I can’t deal with this right now.” You didn’t hear a response from him, so you assumed that he had left. You didn’t expect him to be in front of you, slightly bending his head to meet your eyes with his brows furrowed. You hated when he looked at you like this. Like he could see right through you, like he knows things even you don't. You hate it, so you look away from his curious gaze. You didn't want him to find anything in yours.
It felt like hours before he gave up on his one sided staring competition. He released a sigh while undoing his scarf that was neatly wrapped around his neck. You shook your head, wanted to tell him it wasn't necessary, you didn't need his scarf- that you were fine. The words never even got to leave your mouth before he started putting his scarf on you anyway. “Don’t even right now ___, you’re cold.” It wasn't a question. He said it like he knew, he said it while he took his time to wrap his scarf around your neck, making sure to cover your nose. You think you’ve seen this film before.
《Some years ago》
You have been walking for quite some time now. Quiet footsteps crush dead leaves and twigs a small distance behind you. You’re not afraid, mildly annoyed maybe. But you’ve no need to be afraid because you already know who’s behind you. He’s been trailing after you in silence since you stormed off the campsite earlier in a desperate attempt to cool off. It was too much. The woodsmoke, the cheeriness, the ever persistent Song Eunji and her effortlessly beautiful messy bun hanging off the side of *your* neighbour, on your family camping trip. It was one thing to have to endure her incessant hovering while at school, but you’d think that at least your weekend far out of town would have been peaceful. Turns out that the universe had other plans for you. Not only did you have to endure Min Yoongi, but you also had to stomach having the president of his fanclub- whose family just also happened to plan a camping trip at this spot- here too. How fantastic.
You hold your thin jacket tighter against your body as you make your way deeper into the forest. Every step you took only seemed to strengthen the already growing irritation inside you. You longed for the warmth of your bed, the comfort of your home. Surely there would be nothing there to upset you this much. “Yoongi, either catch up or leave. You’re smart enough, I’m sure that you’re at least a little aware how strange it is to stalk after a woman at night.”
“Yn, you’re smart enough, I’m sure you’re aware that this is hardly considered stalking.” Still, his footsteps carried that steady pace and you could almost hear the smugness in his voice as he continued. “I’m simply taking a walk, I’d be more than happy to catch up if you’d let me.” You could almost imagine how his face looks right now, a raised eyebrow, his (annoying) little smirk, maybe his head was even tilted to the side. You hoped he could see your eyes rolling from behind you. All of that didn’t matter though, cause either way the chill breeze took the challenge in his tone and brought it straight to your ear.
“Yeah, well you could walk somewhere else.” He certainly had no issue being other places before, you thought. You didn’t see why he was being so difficult. Although, you’ve known Min Yoongi for what feels like your entire life. If he did have a middle name, perhaps it would be something along the lines of annoying, stubborn-
“It’s fine.”
Wind came dancing through the trees and brought not just a disturbance to your quiet surroundings, but also a drop in the already cold temperature you’ve been trying to ignore since you left the warmth of the campfire. Involuntarily, your body shivered. Though it was only trying to warm itself up, you suppose.
“Here, put this on.” He was shrugging off his own jacket. You hadn’t realised you’d stopped. Hadn’t realised that Yoongi found his way beside you. Maybe your middle name is stubborn too, because you were already shaking your head and pushing his hand and his jacket away, wanted to tell him he could keep his jacket, that you would warm up just fine on your own soon enough. It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Would you stop pretending like you’re not literally freezing cold right now,” He just puts the jacket over you anyway. “Just take it.” With no other choice (you were freaking freezing), you begrudgingly put your arms through the sleeve. You watched as he proceeded to fasten the buttons with what you’ll assume resembles care on his face- no sign of displeasure anywhere.
“You do this after school too, why?” Memories all bleed into each other from all the times he’s placed a jacket round your shoulders, or a scarf round your neck. The few times he’d given you gloves to wear. You know he knows what you’re referring to.
“Because,” He’s fixing the jacket collar around your neck. “Your mom would kill me if I let you catch a cold.”
He couldn’t be serious. To think that was the reason... “You don’t need to do it anymore.”
He hummed in response. “Yeah? Stop leaving your jacket and I won't have to give you mine all the time, deal?” His left hand ruffled your hair all while you glared at him. Oftentimes, despite your extensive vocabulary, you find it hard to find words to describe Yoongi and just settle for thinking that he’s so him. Right now, he was being very much him, even more so than usual.
A sudden high pitch screech pulls you out of your brooding and launches you into Yoongi’s arms, a scream escapes you. Surprised, his arms wrap around you while he looks around. “What was that?!” You were whispering, screaming, a unique mix of both things.
“I don’t know.” Your companion sounded as calm as ever, you weren't sure if that was a good or bad thing. But you couldn't focus on that right now.
“Will it kill us?”
“I don’t know.” You felt him shrug. Your annoyance from earlier resurges, but with a new friend along with it, fear.
“Well Yoongi, what do you know exactly, hmm?”
“I know the way back to the campsite.” You looked up at him, seemingly just realising you were quite cozily nestled in his arms. You jumped back, almost tripping on a rock, or tree root, you couldn’t tell as it was dark. But what you could see was the gentle look that remained on his face as he steadied you, you weren't sure how it made you feel. All you did know was that it was too much.
“Well, um…” You decided to turn your head away, clear your throat. Yes, that was a good idea. “Lead the way, I guess.” Yoongi chuckled, and soon you felt a warmth enveloping your hand. Similar to the warmth simultaneously growing in your own chest. This was the first time he’d ever held your hand. You stood shocked, frozen, unable to move. Unable to ask him why.
“Come on, so you don’t fall again. This just like the day I just moved int-”
“Oh my gosh, shut up about that will you!” That seemed to do the trick. Just when you think he’d give that story a rest, he’d find a way to remind you again. How infuriating. Still, you both couldn’t help the laughs escaping your lips as you head back hand in hand to your loved ones who were probably waiting for you at the campsites. Maybe you shouldn't have stormed off, but as the moon started peaking through the clouds lighting up your rugged path, you were glad he came to find you.
《Present day》
When he gently took your hand in his, your mind found itself back to the present where you stood in snowy streets as opposed to the serene forest. Was he really always like this? “C'mon.” He'd turned towards you, his head motioning in a general direction. Your mind wanting to stay lost in thought for a bit more, feet remained planted on the ground for a minute, maybe longer. Yet Min Yoongi remained a perfect picture of patience. Maybe it was his lack of frustration, or the fact that you didn't not trust him. But you let him lead you down the Hongdae streets, you follow with your hand in his.
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AN: Thanks for reading this far! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Now, I had every intention for this to be a tiny lil one-shot but the story clearly had other ideas in mind. I'm working on part 2 as we speak so hopefully I can share it with you all soon.
That being said, Special thanksies to my mooties @livingformintyoongi and @moochii-daisies for their encouragement and for accommodating my yapping 🥹🩷 and not to mention @oddinary4bts when I felt stuck and was at the brink of putting this fic to the infinite sides.
This, as well other fics that I'll post in the future will be cross-posted to Ao3 because of popular demand (1 person suggested), but yes it was by popular demand 🤭
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@livingformintyoongi @moochii-daisies @abcdefghilovejk2121 @ktownshizzle @peoniesnro
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yoonjae20 · 2 days ago
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Ric(hard) Fenton; Part 1
(Once again slightly inspired by @saltymarshmall0w 's prompt.)
Read on ao3.
Masterpost.
“B, didn’t you promise us as you’d tell if there was a possibility of another secret child?” Tim asks as he stares at the black haired boy, who looks like he had been to hell and back to get here, with blue eyes — because of course, they are blue —  in front of the Manor’s door. 
He can’t help but feel unnerved by the way the boy evaded their security measures and how he hasn’t said a single word since Tim opened the door even when he can see the boy’s hands tremble.
“Yes?” Bruce's voice floats from further in the Manor, his barely audible gaunt drawing near.
“Then who the hell is this?” he asks just as the man turns the corner. He freezes at the sight of the kid, literally blue screening as he takes him in. 
“Actually he’s mine,” a too chipper voice announces and Tim nearly jumps out of skin as he turns to Dick.
The young man must see both Tim and Bruce doing the mental calculations in their heads because he interrupts before they can draw the wrong conclusions.
“If Bruce can go around adopting children, I can do the same.” Then he turns to the boy. “You can come in, Danny.” 
Tim is eerily reminded of a wary, frightened cat as the boy — Danny moves inside. His steps are too silent for a mere civilian. 
Bruce and Tim share a look and Tim knows that they are both asking themselves when Dick met the boy and why he never mentioned him with how familiar he acts around him as he easily tucks him into his side. 
Although neither of them wants to accept it, Dick has changed since the one year where he disappeared without a trace. He’d told them that he was shot leading to him to lose his memories and that he only retained his memories a few days before he came back, but Tim always had a feeling the older man was not telling the whole truth, hiding it behind an easy-going smile. He didn’t speak a single word about what happened during that year, claiming he didn’t remember much of it ever since his memories returned.
Not only that, but it had become even rarer than before that any of them would meet Dick at the manor (even Jason was at the Manor more often) — and when he was present he was always studying them with an intense stare as if he was searching for something in their expressions.
“Dick,” Bruce starts but the man waves him off.
“Later,” he says. “I need to see if I have any fresh clothes for Danny.”
Dick pulls the boy away and they head up the stairs. Tim gives it a minute before he follows, nodding at Bruce, who does the same. He hears them stop in the hallway and he pauses in his steps.
“What’s going on?” Tim hears the man's question and he sneaks closer when he can’t hear the boy’s response. He subtly uses his phone’s camera to peek around the corner. 
“What about Mom and Dad?” Dick asks in a hushed whisper and Tim knits his eyebrows together — confused about who his brother is talking about.
Danny winces with a pained expression.
“The GIW got them in custody for affiliating with and aiding an ectoplasmic entity,” he explains. “You are my only chance.”
“Jazz, Sam, Tucker?” Dick almost seems desperate and when the boy just shakes his head after each name, he runs a hand through his hair and curses. 
“And you are sure we can’t go to them?”
Tim can’t help but ask himself who they are talking about that Dick’s voice is so full of disdain. Danny vehemently shakes his head, eyes squeezed together like he is remembering something painful and when he speaks his voice is shaky.
“I don’t know what to do, Ric,” he says, clutching the top of his shirt like his heart is hurting and Tim’s eyebrows climb to the top of his hairline at the unusual nickname. “I can’t- I can’t do this alone…” 
“Fuck.” Dick takes a deep breath as he hugs Danny. “Okay. Yes, of course I’m coming with you, baby ghost. Just let me grab my things and then we’ll go on our way.” 
“You will not go anywhere.” 
Bruce steps in Dick’s path before Tim can stop him and he narrows his eyes at the pair. Danny flinches away from the man and Dick steps protectively in front of the boy.
Tim knows Bruce and Dick had their rough patches in the past but never like this. Never had Dick looked at Bruce like he was a threat. 
“I’m not in the mood, B,” Dick warns sharply. 
“And I’m not about to let you go off with someone that I haven’t vetted.”
Dick lets out a bitter huff of a laugh.
“Of course that’s the only thing you would focus on.” His voice is cold. “You’ll bulldoze your way through, and prod and condemn, not caring if you hurt someone innocent in the process as long as you can justify your actions. I don’t even know why I’m surprised at this point. It’s what happened to Jason after all.”
Bruce reels back like he’s been punched. 
“Now if that is all, I have to go save the people who actually treat me like family.”
This time nobody stops Dick as he leaves the house, Danny in tow. 
“Master Bruce, Master Tim,” Alfred’s voice tears Tim out of his trance and startles Bruce who froze in his spot. “Where is Master Dick?”
Dick trembles with barely suppressed fury as he leads Danny to his car.
He wanted to believe that Bruce was better — that he wouldn’t have led the Justice League on a hunt after a child, but the longer he is back in Gotham as Richard Grayson — the longer he is around who were supposed to be his “actual” family, the more he grows unsure about that fact. There is no easy trust between them — not the steadfast determination that no matter what happens, they’ll take his side. Not like the Fentons have. (It’s been barely 2 months and he misses being Ric Fenton — misses being Jack and Maddie’s son and Jazz and Danny’s older brother.)
Bruce has contingency plans about them for fuck’s sake. And while he understands that there might be situations where they would be on other sides — the time where he and the Teen Titans had to fight their mind controlled mentors comes to mind — it’s a scary thought. For the first time since ages — since Bruce had taken Robin away from him — he feels like he is on his own. 
Back then he had turned to Clark — to Superman. He was the one who gave him the name Nightwing but Dick is plagued by the nightmares he witnessed Danny having. He doesn’t think he can look at his uncle ever the same again. 
At the same time, he doesn’t know if Danny and him can do this alone. He glances at the boy as he drives out the gates to the manor — he looks incredibly drained. He’s even paler than usual and there’s a sheen of sweat over his whole body as he leans back in his seat, breaths shallow. 
As he drives through the streets of the Bowery a sudden thought comes to his mind. He tears the steering wheel around, tearing Danny out of his doze. He blinks at Dick, eyebrows knitted together when he sees that they are still in Gotham.
“Where are we going?” he asks and Dick gives him a smile that is all teeth.
“Just a little pit stop.”
Jason and Dick don’t talk much — or to be more precise they don’t talk about the important stuff. Not about the — ‘I broke down when I heard about your death and I blame myself for not being there’ or ‘I was sure you hated me and you were glad I was gone’. They barge into each other's apartments, spar or get drunk together and cling to each other when they are sure the other isn’t awake to witness it. It’s not quite healthy — but it’s something better than when Jason was still Robin.
So when the door to one of his safe houses gets slammed open, Jason isn’t concerned. He knows Dick had been off the past few weeks and had been expecting his visit for quite a while now. 
The look in Dick’s eyes is different this time around though. It’s not quite the mix of depression coupled with anger he normally expects — it’s something stronger — righteous fury.
“I need your help,” Dick demands before Jason can question what’s going on.
Jason knits his eyebrows together. 
“What about Bruce?”
There’s a dark look in the man’s eyes for a moment before it passes and that’s the moment Jason realizes that this something more serious than the usual spats he normally has with B. 
“You are the only one I can trust with this.”
He spins around on his heels and is out of the safe house before Jason can blink. Getting a bit impatient and angry about Dick not getting straight to the point and still expecting him to follow — Jason storms out. What he doesn’t expect is the passed out half-dead kid in the passenger seat. A tinge of green enters his vision as he glares at Dick.
“What the hell is going on?”
The story Dick tells as they speed on the highway leaves Jason reeling. If the man’s tone wasn’t carefully monotone as he spoke about Ghosts and an entire town being shifted to a different dimension, Jason would have already declared that Dick finally snapped. He wants to question why he lied to the rest about losing his memories about the year he went missing, but the desperate look he sends him and the way his hands shake on the steering wheel hold him back. It’s only the boy’s quiet snores that have Jason’s volume not climbing above a hiss.
“Are you sure this all happened? That this is real?”
“I was there, Jay,” Dick’s tone leaves no arguments. “I almost watched Danny die, again — fighting Pariah Dark. I would have never forgiven myself if another of my brothers…” He gulps and shakes his head. “I was there this time. I should have made a difference and once again I was helpless”. He slams a fist against the radio, cursing when it turns on, blaring loud music. 
He quickly turns the volume down and both of them wait with bated breath as Danny stirs in his seat, before he goes limp again. Dick lets out a deep sigh.
“How do you think I felt once I realized the situation?” Dick questions. “I was in the middle of nowhere with no recollection of who I was. If the Fentons hadn’t found me-” He shakes his head. “Next I know I’m watching a kid fight fucking Ghosts twice his side and getting thrown around like a ragdoll like it’s a normal Tuesday. That shouldn’t happen Jay, it just shouldn’t.”
Jason stays silent.
“And worst of all, I still knew how to fight,” Dick barrels on. “But no matter how much I tried to help Danny and teach him, it was useless because it wasn’t humans or even metas he was up against. How could my moves counter beings that can fly and go intangible and invisible at will?”
Jason still can’t fathom why Dick hid this from them all — but he knows enough to understand why he needs his help. 
“So what’s the plan?”
Dick shoots him a relieved smile.
“We still have 12 hours of driving ahead of us,” Dick glances at Danny. “I’m reckoning he’s gonna be out cold for at least half of it if not more. I need you to switch with me after half of the drive so I can get a power nap in, then I’ll take over again.”
“Not trusting me with the car?” Jason teases.
“Show me your drivers license and maybe I’ll reconsider.”
They start bickering, and for a moment Jason can convince himself that this is a normal road trip.
Jason’s at the wheel when the boy wakes up. Dick is out cold and despite the man’s protests Jason can drive normally if he wants to. There’s no reason the man has to over exhaust himself.
They had tossed their phones once they crossed the border to Illinois and Dick had withdrawn a couple of thousand bucks. Jason had questioned why they hadn’t done sooner if they wanted to keep Bruce off their trail, but the man told him he’s not the one he is worried about. Considering what Dick told him about the elusive GIW, Jason can harbor a guess on who he is talking about. It’s after that, that Jason wrangled him into another nap — Dick was in no condition to drive any further. 
“Ric?” Danny questions sleepily as he sits up and Jason keeps an eye on him out of the corner of his eyes.
“He’s asleep,” Jason answers and it’s only because he’s used to Damian that he blocks the instinctual kick as the boy realizes he’s not alone. 
“I can see that Dick kept you sharp” Jason huffs out a laugh. “I’m Jason, in case he didn’t mention me.”
Danny blinks at him and shifts so he is sitting cross legged. He knits his eyebrows together, clearly thinking.
“You were the pit stop?” he questions.
“Apparently.” Jason shrugs. “Great work, by the way. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Dick this pissed.”
The boy frowns, gnawing at his lips as he stares out the window.
“You’ve died too, haven't you?”
Jason suppresses his initial reaction to snap at the boy. Instead he grits his teeth as he stares straight ahead, the road blurring together. 
“And?”
“Ric shouldn’t have let you come.”
He grips the steering wheel until his knuckles are deadly white, green hazing his vision. 
“They’ll cut you open too.”
It takes the wind out of his anger and he lets out a curse. The brakes screech as he stops at the side of the road, nearly catapulting them forward with the force of it. Jason finally turns to look at Danny properly. The boy peels down his t-shirt to reveal a gnarly, ugly red Y-shaped scar as he gulps.
“Ric doesn’t know,” he says as he releases the hem of his shirt, covering the scar once more. “I haven’t told him.”
“Then why me?” Jason’s voice rises without his consent.
“Because you’ll get it,” the boy murmurs. “How it feels to die.”
The boy leans back, turning away from Jason to look at the corn field.
“How it haunts you.”
Jason wants to puke and he lets his forehead fall onto the steering wheel.
“Fuck,” he says emotionally and the boy laughs — broken and hysterical. Jason doesn’t comment on the tears streaming down Danny’s face.
Jason starts up the car again, leading the car back on the road.
“Next time Dick asks for my help, I’ll send him to hell.”
Jason hides a smile when the boy snorts at that. 
Dick comes to himself as they are about to cross the border into Amity Park. Jason and Danny are quietly talking and he wipes away a little bit of drool as he sits up. It’s dark outside and Danny directs Jason as they enter the city. He leans forward as he enters the conversation.
“You’ll think the GIW’s detectors will sense us?”
Danny glances at Jason, before he turns his attention to Dick.
“We should be fine for a few hours at least as long as I don’t have to turn ghost,” he says. “Half of the town is liminal at this point so you and Jason shouldn’t raise any alarms either. They had too many false alarms in the months since you left.”
Jason looks at Dick strangely once they park where they can hide for the night.
“Since when did you have contact with Lazarus Pits?”
“Never,” Dick retorts. “But living above a portal to the Infinite Realms for a year will do the trick.”
Jason's face scrunches up.
“Who the hell builds a portal in their own basement?” 
Both Dick and Danny snort. 
“Gotta love Mom and Dad,” the boy says as Dick nods in agreement. “Only they are insane enough.”
Dick makes a face.
“I could do without reanimated meatloaf for the rest of my life though.”
“Don’t remind me,” Danny shudders.
Jason stares at them in bafflement. 
“You do know how crazy that sounds?”
“Crazier than Ghosts?” Danny questions with a smirk and Jason pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head
“To give it to Mom and Dad they did stop storing samples in the fridge after we lectured them about it,” Dick adds. At Jason's aghast face he just shrugs. “They are passionate about their work.” 
“Insane, absolutely insane,” the man mutters and Dick suppresses a smile.
It had taken him a bit to get used to the Fenton's and their flavor of insanity and chaos. At first he had been worried about them being neglectful at best, but it turns out that they just needed someone to remind them when they got into “hyperfixation” mode. He and Jazz had to stage an intervention and both Maddie and Jack were embarrassed once they realized they took it too far. Dick doesn’t know who is worse — them or Tim when he’s awake for more than three days. 
He was very relieved when his initial hunch didn’t turn out to be true after Danny revealed himself as Phantom to his parents. They did a whole 180 on their research, focusing on learning about the intricacies of the Infinite Realms, their culture and even politics instead — resigning from their high positions in the GIW. That’s when the trouble really started. 
Dick hadn’t lied about getting amnesia after he was shot and it was also true that his memories had only returned — thanks to Frostbite — two months ago. But the only reason he went back to Gotham had been to get Danny help (the longer they waited the worse the situation with the GIW became) — to find out if the Justice League could be trusted. Once he heard what happened with Freakshow and the Reality Gauntlet (and had the memories to properly realize what that meant) he had been horrified. He had given himself a deadline to — if need be, confront the Justice League by the time Danny’s birthday came around and find out the truth. (He had desperately hoped that this was all a misunderstanding, but Bruce’s words still taste bitter on his tongue.)
Dick knows bringing Jason along was a risk — considering Danny’s theory that the Lazarus Pit were corrupted ectoplasm, but they need the manpower to get through the GIW’s defenses. Even if he’s scared shitless about what they’ll do to Jason when they find out just how liminal he is. He knows this is a death mission. But it doesn’t have to be for Jason.
“We need to establish some ground rules,” Dick says reluctantly and Jason narrows his eyes at the wording.
“If we get captured, I want you to save yourself, Jason.” Jason scoffs and Dick raises a hand, silencing his retort before it can come. “I’m the sole reason you got involved in the first place. Me and Danny may be willing to die for them, but I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself for something that isn’t even your problem to deal with.”
“If you think I’m gonna agree to those, you are more than stupid than I thought Dick,” Jason’s voice is scathing. “It started being my problem when you came to me for help and we drove for 12 straight hours to get there. If you say those people are your family — then they are mine as well.”
His lips perk into a smirk.
“Besides, I want to meet the people that might be even more batshit insane than B and got you to call them Mom and Dad.”
Dick flushes slightly — the Fenton’s had always insisted on him calling them Mom and Dad and he doesn’t know when the titles became genuine. Even with his memories restored, Ric Fenton feels more alive  — more loved — than Richard Grayson ever did. 
Danny just shrugs as he leans back, arms crossed behind his neck and feet rested on top of the glove box. 
“I guess I have not only two sisters but two older brothers now,” he adds cheekily. 
“Brat.” 
Jason playfully shoves Danny and Dick gapes at the fond tone in his voice. 
“How?” he stammers — they should barely know each other. “When?”
Jason tucks Danny into his side, angle a bit awkward, but grinning as he ruffles his hair.
“You missed a lot, sleeping beauty,” Jason jests and Dick groans.
“I was only asleep for 1 hour!” he bemoans. 
“Two,” Danny corrects and Dick glares at him, raising a finger.
“Don’t you two dare gang up on me!”
“This is sweet revenge for when you and Jazz teamed up against me,” Danny grins.
“We were literally trying to help you!” Dick complains, shoving Danny’s face away as the boy cackles, Jason watching on with amusement.
Dick might have to leave Ric Fenton behind for good now that his two worlds have collided, but maybe he can still be Richard “Dick” Grayson-Fenton instead.  
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bonyassfish · 2 days ago
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Um, no? This is an awful response.
Does this kind of thing happen? Yes, sadly. But to just say that ALL surveys/research about lgbtqia people is either a psyop or a moment of genuine ignorance.
Research matters. And marginalized groups are often underrepresented in research and studies. And this leads to serious problems.
Often, people on tumblr will make fun of studies that say stuff like “trans people are happier when they get access to gender affirming care” or “disabled adults would prefer to decide for themselves when they go to bed”. Sure, it might seem like water is wet type of stuff, but without official research to back up decisions, it’s harder to get policy changes and funding to go along with this stuff. The reason many insurance companies cover gender affirming care is because of the mountains of research to back it up
Is there a dark and horrible history of marginalized communities being exploited in academia and research? Of course. But this is true of medicine as well, and I don’t think any of us want to advocate to refuse to ever see a doctor
As a queer person myself in academia, with a lot of other queer friends in academia, a lot of research these days about queer people is being done by queer researchers. And we’re going to have more difficulties doing the research and work we want to be doing over the next four years, so we really don’t need any more hurdles
If you’re contacted to do research or a survey, just do some basic research. Look up the authors of the study, what institutions they are affiliated with, and what types of review process they went through. Conservatives and Christians can fake and lie a lot, but it’s hard to fake being affiliated with an actual university or research institute, because you can take contact said institute and confirm if the person is affiliated or not
Please, let’s not fall into anti-intellectual bullshit out of fear. It takes only a few minutes to verify that the researcher is legit, and chances are they might be queer themselves
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garciasgirl · 22 hours ago
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Secret Sunshine | spencer reid x reader 。𖦹°‧
genre: fluff!!
summary: spencer and reader were childhood best friends, until spencer had to leave. spencer left reader when he went to college and they haven’t spoken in over ten years. one might, at a some random local bar garcia dragged the BAU too, spencer finds someone he wasn’t expecting to ever see again. his sunshine.
content: sunshine!reader, use of y/n, awkward!spencer, but he starts to get more confident slowly? idk, lighthearted teasing, spencer left her, spencer and reader are childhood best friends, nervous!spencer, nervous!readet, bubbly!reader, lots of longing for each other, super fluffy and cute, spencer struggles with being affected by his job, baker!reader
notes: guys this is my first time writing like this please im so so sorry if it’s bad!! pls don’t be mean i will cry
word count: 2.8k
──── ୨୧ ──── ──── ୨୧ ────
spencer didn’t often entertain the teams schemes of bringing him out to a club or bar. however, their last case in particular got to him. the details still fresh and relentless in his mind. a case involving children. cases were hard enough, but when it involved children, that came with a different feeling. A stronger one.
Spencer hated how much his job affected him. Especially when he looked at his team members, they never seemed to have any issue. Sure, the pictures could be gruesome and disturbing, which the team were affected by. But Spencer, it wasn’t just the pictures. It was guilt that came along with it. maybe the only downside to an eidetic memory. He could never take his mind off of anything. The cases, the victims, the guilt. What if he could’ve done better? What if he figured things out faster? Would he have saved those victims? Was this his fault? It was eating at him too much, maybe that’s why he agreed to garcia’s team bonding event at a local bar.
“having fun, genius?” Morgan’s familiar teasing tone suddenly appeared. no, he was not. but Penelope was right there, and he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he said anything of the sort in front of her. he settled on “sure, a blast.” spencer wasn’t usually one for sarcasm, but an occasional snippy response happened here and there. “come on, spence..loosen up!! we all are in need of a break.” jj sat down next to him, her smile was warm and her voice kind. the teams teasing was playful and light, it always was. but spencer did not need any more stress, and this environment was starting to feel a lot more overwhelming than expected. too loud, music playing and people shouting over it, too bright, light for every corner yet it was so dark. and way too many people. he just needed a break, just a couple seconds.
“im going to get a drink.” spencer muttered, standing up and making his way to the bar. “uh, just, a sprite please.” he never liked alcohol, spencer liked control. and alcohol came with uncontrollable chaos. spencer lingered at the bar for a couple minutes, at first it was a bit calming. there weren’t many people surrounding him, and the music wasn’t as loud over here. that was until a swarm of people came over to the bar, shouting and practically pushing spencer out of the way. he sighed, a bit annoyed, and grabbed his drink. he returned to the table filled with his coworkers, and sat back down. jj said something to him, he doesn’t respond. he means to, but he just can’t.. his attention was somewhere else. on someone else.
her. those brown curls that bounced with every step. the dimples, you hadn’t changed much since he last saw you. which was, the summer when you both were thirteen. your tan skin glistened under the lights, and the smile stretched onto your face was so familiar, he almost felt pulled to you. he knew he couldn’t go over to you, what if you didn’t remember? but, he could just…look, right?
“Reid? Hello…pretty boy?” Morgan snapped his fingers in Spencer’s face. Spencer shook his head slightly “huh..?” He muttered, not turning his attention away from you. he took a quick glance at morgan, his attention springing back to you almost instantly. Derek laughed at him, “welcome back man, what were you..”
he trails off, following Spencer’s eyes. a low whistle followed by some deep laughter. “well, look at that, pretty boys’s got himself a crush.” Spencer shook himself slightly and cleared his throat. Taking a sip from his drink. “Shut up morgan, I uh..” emily shook her head at him “don’t even try Reid, he is never letting this go.” She was right; but Spencer couldn’t bring himself to care much in that moment. You were in the center of his brain, and you were hard to shake.
He thought this couldn’t get any worse, any more awkward. the moment he noticed you, he felt overwhelmed with nostalgia. Even though he was scared that you would notice him, and how you would respond. he still felt a longing for you. a longing for the person he had considered his home, and the person that he was forced to leave when college came around. the shock from seeing you and the embarrassment from his team, which he knew was coming, was all to much. just enough to make his hand twitch and sweat, which in result, the drink in his hand spilled. not all the way, but just enough to cover the part of the table in front of him. as he scrambled to clean it up, his ears turning pink from his teams teasing, he heard that voice.
you weren’t even talking to him yet, you had walked in the bar with some unfamiliar faces. friends of yours, he assumed. the feelings of embarrassment and nostalgia were pushed down. and the pain of guilt flooded through his system. spencer didn’t mean to leave you. you were, well, everything to him. but college was important to him, and even more important to his mom. he couldn’t say no. losing you was heartbreaking, but you encouraging him to go, that buried him deep into the ground. you were just so kind, so caring. even though Spencer was the only person you ever truly trusted, you told him to move across the country because you wanted him to chase his dreams. he still felt guilty, he still felt like an absolute idiot. maybe it was the creepy staring from both spencer. Or maybe it was the equally creepy staring from his team. but eventually you turned around, and you had noticed him. you had seen Spencer. The man you have been dying to see again since the moment he left. you walked over to him, not meaning to leave your friends behind, but doing it anyway.
“Spencer Reid? that cannot be you!” A warm voice flooded the area Spencer and his team were currently occupying. “y/n, uh..hi..!” He mumbled awkwardly, the teams glance stuck on Spencer, except for morgan, of course. Who was busy ogling over y/n. He did that with every pretty girl, but, y/n was different. Spencer didn’t understand the feelings arising, but he knew he didn’t want morgan looking at you like that for any longer.
laughter, soft and feminine broke out. “Spence, really? We’ve known each other for what? Over ten years? Don’t be so awkward!!” y/n spoke directly towards Spencer, not even acknowledging the rest of his team yet. Morgan nudged Spencer with his shoulder. “Pretty boy, ten years!! You’ve known this gorgeous lady for over ten years and you’re acting like a high school boy?”
“Shut up- morgan! I, I just didn’t expect to see her, okay?” Spencer responded, his voice unsure, which wasn’t common. “You didn’t expect to see me? Seriously spence, am I that forgettable?” You teased lightly. Not in a mean way, but in the childish way you had done all those years ago. “Wait, years? Oh you have some explaining to do!!” Garcias chirpy voice sounded out. The rest of the team, agreeing in hums and yeahs.
“right..” he cleared his throat, again. “Guys, this is y/n, she is, was, a good friend of mine.” despite the sting from his words, y/n smiled politely at everyone, “hi, it’s so nice to meet you all!” you were ushered to sit, by penelope, and you complied, taking the seat next to Spencer. you, feeling uneasy about all of the new faces, stared down at your feet. Spencer watched you, his eyes not ever leaving you. Not even for a second. His eyes were trained on you confidently, but spencer was nervous. His face was flushed, even though it was barely noticeable under the fluorescent bar lights. The team all watched the two of you with knowing eyes, their reactions pleasant to seeing their genius yet awkward Dr. Spencer Reid having such a connection. Morgan seemed the most amused, giving Spencer a playful slap on the back “my man!!” He joked before walking off with penelope.
Spencer had laughed at Derek slightly, but stopped when his eyes finally lingered over you again. he looked at you deeply, his eyes caressing over your features, he couldn’t believed how different you looked. but in a way, you looked the exact same. your hair was just as curly, your eyes bright with that same spark you held when you were young. even though you looked a little different, you still felt the same to spencer. like warmth, like home. spencer must’ve been staring for too long because you had noticed, giving him a small smile, biting her lip hesitatingly before saying.
“hi..sorry for, intruding.” you whispered, a soft, but apologetic smile on your face. for the first time during this entire conversation, spencer smiled. This was a good sign, you believed. At first, when you had sat down, you felt the nerves rush over you. It had been a long time, and even though Spencer was the one who had left. You felt worried that maybe, he wasn’t as fond that you returned as he made it seem. You wanted him to still care about you, and you were worried that the love he had for you may have faded over the years.
“hey, don’t be sorry. im glad to see you.” you had calmed down slightly at his words, spencer wasn’t one to lie unless completely necessary. So you trusted he was being truthful with his words. Even if he wasn’t, to hear them was so enticing, you just wanted him to talk on and on. About whatever, his voice and his words were all you wanted to hear anyway.
Spencer hadn’t realized how much he missed that, the simplicity of it. When life had been so cruel, you had been his escape, a source of light in a house full of shadows. ‘Sunshine,’ he used to call you, but now it felt more like a warning. Maybe, just maybe, you were the one thing that could make him feel like himself again.
And that voice, spencer swears he could hear that voice forever and never get bored. he would dream about you, often. your appearance was vivid, but as the years passed, the familiarity of your voice started to fade. when he finally heard it again, it was like heaven. you always spoke so beautifully. it was purely angelic. everything about you was an angelic. and was spencer glad that you were finally back in front of him, and not just in his dreams.
the smile on your face turned brighter, you took a sip out of your drink. “so..it’s been a while.” You comment, not sure how to start a conversation when the two of you haven’t talk for over 10 years. “sure has, sunshine.”
sunshine. that nickname, spencer used to call you that all the time. he said you were like his own personal piece of sunshine. quite poetic for a thirteen year old boy, but then again, it was spencer. warmth flooded into your cheeks, a soft look of joy and nostalgia filling her eyes.
spencer looked different, his hair was longer, and he looked a lot more mature. even though his outward appearance had changed, spencer was still spencer, and you liked that. when the rest of the team, who had been lingering, dispersed amongst the bar, spencer calmed down.
“what are you doing here anyway, not that im not happy you’re here, but..” you laughed softly and shook your head. “I just started working a new job here, speaking of jobs, you’re finally the fbi agent you dreamed of being!!” you said accidentally, putting a gentle hand on his arm. “im proud of you, spence.” his eyes softened, his other hand placed on top of yours. he gave it a quick squeeze. “thank you, sunshine.” the quick squeeze, the comfort that came with it was almost breaktaking. you hadn’t felt the calmness that spencer’s touch brought in years. feeling it, was almost overwhelming. even though spencer was the one who had initiated the sudden touch, he still felt the warmth flood through him. your hand, even just the simplest connection had almost knocked the wind out of him.
spencer wasn’t sure why he felt so comfortable. After all, you two haven’t seen each other in years. and, as cliche as it might sound, it feels like you two never parted ways. you were always his comfort, a home, in a way. between his absent father, schizophrenic mother, and the torment he suffered in school from his peers, you were always the person he went to. you were his little piece of sunshine. and now that he’s an fbi agent dealing with his own personal demons, maybe that sunshine is just what he needs?
Spencer shakes himself from this thoughts, turning to face you more. he hasn’t take his hand off of yours, and you haven’t made any move to retract your hand. so he keeps it there, resting gently on top of yours. it’s relaxing. Spencer realizes he hasn’t said much so he makes small talk. “new job, you said? what kind of job?” he asks, looking at you. his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. you smile, brightly. a sense of pride shining through. “a bakery!! you know I used to talk about owning one all time!!” spencer does know. you were an amazing baker, and the way you gushed and smiled over your job, almost made spencer feel giddy inside. he grins, a boyish and familiar sight.
“y/n, that’s amazing!! you truly are the best baker I’ve ever known.” you laugh, giving him a serious nod. “oh you bet I am!! so, back to you. big shot fbi agent, hm?” spencer dulls just slightly. but, of course, you notice. you’re about to spill out a string of apologies for even bringing it up but Spencer stops you before you even get the words out. “don’t apologize, it’s just hard. all the..victims, and cases. I used to think I was helping people. But now, it’s almost like im just losing myself more and more.”
your eyes get sad, a sympathetic look on your face. you know Spencer hates being pitied, but you couldn’t help it. “you are helping people. you always have spencer, that’s just the kind of you person you are! but trust me, we all get overwhelmed and we all get lost in things we don’t want to. im here, yeah?” you comfort him with your words, it was always something you were perfect at. you could always solve all of his problems, even for just a moment, with your words.
spencer looks deep in your eyes, for just a moment. “you haven’t changed at all, you know that, sunshine?” he mutters, his voice deep and gravely. you shiver at his tone. you couldn’t say the same for him. “you are completely different, did you know that?” he chuckles, his loose hold on your hand becoming just a bit firmer, his thumb rubbing lazily against the back of your hand. teenage spencer was your everything, but this new, more mature side of him? oh, you could get used to it.
you stir your drink with the straw, looking at him, lingering a bit too long. he was captivating, you felt drawn in by his presence. You weren’t sure if it was the slight buzz from the alcohol, or the adrenaline from seeing him, but you could not take your eyes off of him. obviously, Spencer had noticed. he laughed, the deep noise rumbling in your ears. “Careful there, sunshine. you keep looking at me like that..I might just start thinking im interesting.”
you laugh, Spencer always made you laugh. In every situation, every scenario. “Well we can’t have you grow an ego can we?” You nudge his chest playfully with your hand. Spencer is slightly stunned by the sudden and unexpected touch, but he raises an eyebrow and gives a slow nod.
“I don’t think I can help it..” you mutter.
“Help what?” He questions, looking down at you, his voice low.
“Staring at you.” You say, playing with you drink, a ghost of a smile playing on your lips.
“Good, I didn’t want you to stop anyway.” He plays along, getting bolder as the minutes pass.
you blushed at his words, spencer used to be a shy and awkward boy, and some of that old personality had shown through tonight. but right now, when it was just you and him. spencer was confident, and it was different. a good different. it made you never want to leave him again.
but It was staring to get late, and even though you both didn’t want to. You knew that this was going to have to end soon. But Spencer was determined, he wasn’t letting you go. Not again, not ever. He wouldn’t let it happen.
As the night began to wind down, you glanced at your phone, realizing how late it had gotten. You stood, your chair scraping softly against the floor. “I should probably head out,” you said, a hint of reluctance in your voice.
Spencer stood with you, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. He didn’t want the night to end, not yet.
As you reached for your bag, Spencer hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, his hand brushing lightly against yours. The contact made you pause, your eyes meeting his.
“Y/N…” His voice was quiet but firm, his usual nervousness softened by something deeper. “I don’t want to wait another ten years to see you again.”
The sincerity in his words made your chest tighten. You smiled, warmth flooding your features as you reached up and gently pushed a strand of his longer hair out of his face. “You won’t have to, Spence,” you said softly.
For a moment, it was just the two of you, the noise of the bar fading into the background. Spencer’s lips curled into a rare, boyish grin, the kind you hadn’t seen in years, as you slipped your hand into his.
It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it didn’t need to be. As the two of you walked toward the exit together, his hand still resting in yours, it felt like the first step toward something you’d both been waiting for, even if neither of you realized it until now.
And for Spencer, for the first time in years, the world felt just a little brighter.
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scrimblescromble · 3 days ago
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Hello, I'm back, with things I have noticed about Eragon that makes parts of the book very strange or funny or sad
Garrow's farm is TEN MILES OUT from Carvahall, which is already small. What the hell was he thinking??? It takes like 3.5 hours to walk that much???? And Eragon walks FURTHER THAN THAT to go hunting at 15???? Go behind you??
When hunting in the beginning, Eragon spends days just going for one doe. Which, all things considered, is not a lot of meat, especially for what's probably a 4 day hunt. For one person, it's unrealistic to carry more than that, but still.
Leading on from that, I'm led to believe that their family probably mostly ate bread and vegetables, and maybe cheese. No wonder he's pretty attached to meat.
Despite living so far away, Brom knows Eragon's knack for asking Too Many Questions, which implies this happens often.
How the hell does Brom make money? Storytelling??? There's only so much money that can get you in fifteen years, he's definitely got something on the side. He was a gardener in Morzan's estate for a while...
So far up north and isolated, Eragon DEFINITELY has a STRONG farmer's accent. Combined with his formal training with the elves, he probably has the weirdest way of talking, where it's both overly formal and casual at the same time.
Eragon is such a prodigy it's not even funny. By the time he meets Murtagh, he's a good enough swordsman after JUST A FEW MONTHS that they're literally equal. Murtagh has been doing that his WHOLE LIFE with a really good swordsman. Magic also comes pretty good to him, even if he's not always sensible with it. He learns to read well enough to read full books in a week.
Eragon and Roran are pretty similar with the dangerous stunts they pull, except Eragon's are usually with magic and Roran's are physical. They are both absurdly intelligent too, even if Eragon is known to act like a dolt sometimes. In his defence, he's stressed and like 15-17 years old. All things considered, he could be far worse.
Somehow, with his back ripped open and cursed, with his dragon crashing through the crystal ceiling which is raining on top of him, Eragon is able to not only remember to stab Durza in the heart (requiring turning around), but also shout an unnecessary spell.
Eragon probably could do magic before he bonded with Saphira. His mum wasn't a rider and had the "genes" for it, and his dad was a rider. It wouldn't be as strong, but maybe he's such a powerful spellcaster because he had some sort of baseline.
I bet that the first time Eragon wandered into the Spine, he was pretty young, and everyone kinda assumed him dead. He came out a week later with a bunch of rabbits or something
The fact that the Blood Oath Celebration made Eragon very pale implies that he's naturally the whitest boy ever and he just had a constant tan going (likely, because he's a farmer). This is just very funny to me, that in removing all injuries it took his tan.
Another point for absurdly powerful Eragon - the fact that his accidental curse had such an impact on Elva, to the point that it straight up affected her development. It wasn't even a spell! Or intentional!
I'm sorry, but Eragon casting empathy and that unintentionally killing the bad guy is so funny. He was SURRENDERING, but cut a bitch so deep that he imploded himself. Iconic.
Literally he is just so nice. Willing to run across the world, separated from Saphira, to support Orik in his campaign - when he totally could have given an excuse, or even just say the truth, which is that he's very much needed where he is. There's so many more examples, but he's just a good person.
I'm sorry, but Oramis was kinda a bitch for assigning the one hour of duelling in his training. Like, it flares up his seizures like crazy (which he ALSO SUFFERS FROM), AND he doesn't stand a chance against the elves in strength. I understand the point, but something had to give there. At the very least, reassign someone that won't actively torture him??
Adding onto that, we know that he's only able to succeed at the listening to the forest task after the transformation. I suspect that the mind is a sort of "sixth sense", and we know that elves have stronger senses; it's possible Eragon would have to have been bonded for a decent while for this to even be possible. I bet anything that human riders were usually trained by elder humans, and Oramis was struggling with a fledgeling human instead of an elf, as well as the time constraint.
Why the hell does Brom look so old? Yeah, he's old, but Galbatorix doesn't look that old? Is it something to do with his dragon being dead? The way I assumed it would be is that riders look like thirty for a verrrryyyy long time, no? Is it because Saphira died? Was he just going to perpetually age? Or does the beard age him?
Your cousin who feels like a brother goes missing, ran away, after your father's death. Soon you're leading everyone you've ever known to the rebellion in a desperate attempt to keep them safe and save the woman you love. Your cousin is wanted, even more than you are. He returns. He's different. Barely human anymore, hardly the boy you once knew. He's their last, and only hope. His war cry has been the same since he was six.
Now that I think about it, Garrow really is the odd one out in the family. His sister was the Black Hand, a highly dangerous assassin and magician. His son is Stronghammer, one of the deadliest soldiers in the country. His nephews are Eragon and Murtagh, both highly skilled swordsmen and magicians, riders, and both known as Kingkiller. Garrow is a farmer who can read.
Selena naming her son Eragon is soooo funny. "His dad - who is a secret! - is a rider, and Eragon was the first rider. It's so uncommon a name even among the elves that literally nobody will know this. My abusive husband and the evil king both know I hail from this place. He totally won't stick out in any way whatsoever!" Iconic, 10/10. It worked???
If any of these are inaccurate please remember I am going off my very deep-seated knowledge from reading the books so many times at a formative age. I haven't actually read them in years
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neverpathia · 2 days ago
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crappy rant/analysis about the Voice of the Paranoid because I'm very normal about him
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with that said.
It's pretty clear that he's not just scared. Anxiety isn't his only personality trait, and the game makes it incredibly prominent that he's no helpless victim. He's a starved animal backed into a corner, straining his chain thin, clawing and biting. He's desperate and frantic and charging at it all with nothing left to lose.
But I don't really think people talk about his spite and resentment as much, and it's a little surprising given how much he moulds it to his advantage. Still, he's not just sassy for the hell of it: he genuinely hates what he's being forced to do. He's incredibly frustrated. He's very, very done with your bullshit—and that includes his own bullshit too, because he's the scared part of you (Quiet) that turns your fears into reality.
So he despises everything that he's being put through (by you, himself and the other voices), and I think he definitely despises the rest of the Quiet to some extent. He's mainly driven by sheer desperation, but petty spitefulness is also very much involved—in Nightmare, he gets very quick to snipe at Hero despite having a job to do. He even prolongs the argument for a while before Narrator urges him to resume the chant.
And I think that just like the Contrarian, the Paranoid hates what he himself is too. Granted, @/sssilverspades and @/salty-an-disco brought this up, but all the voices probably have that same capacity for self-loathing and I think he's no exception.
He's the most perceptive voice, but at the same time he twists his perception against himself a lot. He's the reason Nightmare happened. He's the reason his fears manifest. And given how quick he was to figure stuff out in Cage and Apotheosis, I think he'd figure that his biggest problem by then was himself.
It's because he's not okay that they could stand a chance against Apothy...but it's also because he's not okay that she happened in the first place. He's very far gone here. At that point, there wasn't much left for him to do but pretend it all away—just a dream, just a dream—and shut his fears off.
He wants it all to be over with, which is especially apparent at the end of Apotheosis's Grace ending, or at the beginning of Nightmare-Wraith. He's doing what he can and keeping it going, but it's not because he wants to. It's because it's the only thing he's even capable of doing anymore. And it's turning him bitter, turning him resentful.
This is what you've done, and he's a part of you. He's regretting and atoning just as much as he's fighting, yet it's what he must do.
Let's not completely rid him of accountability, by the way, which is another thing I wish fandom acknowledged more. You often get him by abandoning the Princess and denying her what she wants. This is what you did: what he did from beneath you. And he's suffering for his own actions.
This is what fear does—it's perfectly natural to be scared and anxious, but you're not the only one it affects. Let it fester, and you lock yourself in. Let it fester, and you hurt yourself more and more. Let it fester, and you lash out against this hurt. Let it fester and you turn others as hollow as you've become. Fear helps no one. All you can do is amend and atone, which in a way is kind of what he ends up doing sometimes. Or you get Moment of Clarity.
As much as I love him, it's a bit hard to see people just praising him for being the goat (even though he is lol) because of how much he helps. Yes, he's a very useful voice. But he's the very reason he has to be useful, not that he even wants to be here.
I might just be completely misinterpreting his character here, though.
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thebitch-thatwas-promised · 20 hours ago
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43. No kids. Mistaken for 28 often. I tell people my age as much as possible because I earned these years with blood, sweat and tears. Would I like to go back to being 20? Sure, but only if I get to keep my current wisdom so I can be braver and have more interesting experiences. Would I go back to being 20 with none of my current experiences? Absolutely not. That was hard. Being young is very hard and confusing. Understanding yourself through a few decades of experiences (successes and especially failures) is the most peace I’ve ever felt. I know that failures won’t kill me. Failure no longer scares me or embarrasses me.
I’m using this post to be a typical old lady and not the fangirl I usually only show on here to say…
learn to NOT be hard on yourself as soon as possible. We are too hard on ourselves. It’s a waste of time. It’s a waste of energy. Make plans. Go out. Have a terrible romance. Let someone break your heart. Break someone’s heart. Be a menace. Then Be an Angel cause being a good person is so much better. I’ve done both. Re-evaluate your happiness often. Journaling is the best way to understand why you did that thing that you don’t like that you did. I thought journaling was cheesy, I was wrong. Do it immediately. Travel while you are young because your family will get older and you will find yourself having to go to doctors appointments and funerals a lot and that fucking sucks. But it happens to use all. But it happened to me a lot less when I was younger so I really had time to do what I wanted and have fun. Do you like how you feel when you are around your friends? No? Get new friends. You met someone at work or school who you thought was real cool, spend time with them. They might be a better fit for who you are now. I’m introverted so I have to work to remind myself to reach out to that cool person in my contacts. But I feel better when I do. Get coffee, go to dinner. Catch up. It’s not as painful as it sounds. Buckle down by your late 20s and make plans for your 40 year old self. I didn’t and I have lot of things that are up in the air and it sucks cause now I’m tired lol. So don’t do that. Save to buy a house with your friends if you aren’t marriage oriented. I work in the non profit arts but I recommend “selling out” to work in corporate. It’s all corrupt anyway so make money so you can afford to survive the terror that is the healthcare system and housing system in America. Or find a better country than this hellhole.
Alright, now back to my hyper fixations. 🤙🏾
the older i get and the closer i am to reaching 30, the more the people around me try to deny me my age. it’s a constant ‘oh you’re just turning 29 again teehee 🤭’ or ‘dont tell your SO that, he’ll leave you for a younger model 😉’ and i just???? hate it?????????
i spent my entire teenaged years fighting for my life. i crawled through the deepest pits of my depression to cling to the promise of a life beyond that pain. i was so convinced that i was going to die young, that i would never see the grace of my age starting with a 2, let alone 3.
so im going to turn 30, and there’s not a damn thing anyone can do to stop me from loving it.
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scarlettriot · 1 day ago
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Alright. I simply cannot get the idea of getting hot and heavy in the back of some limo with Ei and a little sprinkle of sneaking around too. I don’t know where this came from or anything so here. I’m leaving it. And that’s all.
It’s sorta smutty so no minors or ageless. They’re aged up, in case that wasn’t self explanatory. Reader gets a little jealous. Other than that it’s basically just fluff with fucking.
I did not proof this what so ever. Sorry. I’m tired. I don’t even have a rough word count for you but it’s pretty short.
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The two of you leaving together after some big award show after he finally breaks into the top 10. Only you’re most certainly not the woman his agencies PR team has been setting him up on dates with. The super model who’s been all over him, the face of his active wear line, the woman they want to see him with.
He’s been putting on a good show for them. Even dipped her in front of all the camera the red carpet was lined with and kissed her as a hundred flashes went off.
But, gods, she’s just not you. The cute little waitstaff always serving drinks at these events. The black skirt they make you wear hugs your curves so tightly and he can see every dip of your plush hips and he remembers what it was like the first time he got to feel you.
He was stiff in his perfectly tailored pants before the hors d’oeuvres came around. 
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The first chance he got, he’d slipped away. Thankfully, his accomplishments were already recognized. He’d done his part, stood up, waved, went on stage, he didn’t give a damn about anything or anyone else. He just needed to find you again.
“I— oh fuck— I’m gonna have to get back before someone realizes I’m— I’m— right there, right there, yes please—!” It was too hard to think when his fingers were buried deep within your cunt.
He had you propped up on the back of his limo. Making you cum with your skirt all bunched up. “Don’t think you gotta go anywhere yet, pretty,” he chuckles and licks off his fingers.
“I do though, I do,” you tried forming a sentence, “I could get fired,”
He pulled your legs around him and carried you around to the door to slip inside with you. “Told you I’d get you a job at my agency, then you wouldn’t have to worry about this job.”
You sucked on his neck as he undid his belt, “don’t know how your girlfriend would feel about me working with you daily… having this happen far more often?” Because you’re not stupid, you knew if you took him up on that offer you’d be on his dick every chance the two of you had.
“She’s not my girlfriend and you know it.” He made that abundantly clear the first time he made a move on you months ago and you questioned him.
He’d just barely slipped his cock free before you were sinking down on it with a groan that would reply in his head for a lifetime. “I don’t think she knows that.”
He chuckles and it makes you clench around him. “You’re real cute when you’re jealous,” hands grip hard on your hips and he pushes you down as he grits out, “and if she does know it, that’s—not— my— problem—” rocking his hips to watch your eyes roll back.
“You’ve said it yourself though, she’s what your PR team wants. I’m nothing like her.”
He huffed before his arms wound under your legs so he could hold you up and fuck up into you as he damn well pleased. “Also told you that I don’t care what they want. You say the word and it’ll be you on my arm at these events, not her.”
You laughed before he made it into a blissed out moan.
“What? Don’t believe me?”
The windows were fogging up, anyone walking by would damn well know what was happening here. And he didn’t care at all. He’d bullied himself into you over and over again, tearing at your little outfit, unable to help himself.
Of course, you didn’t seem to mind with the way you were babbling now, tits bouncing with your head tossed back, pleasure coursing through you. “What’s the matter, pretty? Can’t do anything more than moan for me now? Should I stop and letcha think?”
His pace slowed and you cried out, “noooo!”
“Then answer me, baby, you believe me, don’t you?” Gods, for a man railing you within an inch of your life, his tone was soft and sickeningly sweet. “Promise if ya let me I’ll do this to you all night long.” Not that these quickies weren’t fun but just once he wants to see you splayed out in his bed. “I’ll make you cum over and over, as much as you want.”
He took your chin and made sure you were looking at him as he added. “I want you. For more than just a fast fuck at a party. Lemme take care of you, in every possibly way there is.”
With his cock filling you up so completely, and his eyes carrying so much hope, how could you ever deny him?
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glitter-stained · 1 day ago
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I know some people argue that robin!Jason and Dick were never close post-crisis pre n52 because they only interacted a couple of times in canon and I understand that due to Dick living away when they first met they wouldn't be as close as the relationship Dick has with some of his other siblings, but I would also wish we would take in account that for all three of Jason's years, we have like 30 issues of Jason's run. That's exceedingly small. We have batman #416, we have that one moment in teen titans (i forgot the issue) of jason working with the team, and i think the ski trip we found out later about was included in the same canon*. (also, i do feel like even if you didn't know/like eachother before going on a ski trip together by the end of the ski trip this will have changed, and the picture definitely felt like they were getting along even though Jason's face in the picture was comically weird.) I'm not sure if there were other interactions shown or mentioned, but hey, 2-3/30ish isn't a bad score at all! If we're going 3/30, that's a whole tenth of Jason's robin era.
(And I'm talking about their relationship from Dick's pov since it's the one in question here but it's clear to me in Jason's run, even post-crisis, that Dick is often on his mind and important in his life (with a certain inferiority complex the little siblings of very cool people know well) with stuff like I think Batman #410 or Jason is Legends.)
And even more importantly, 30ish is extremely short for three damn years. That's ten issues per year! Do we assume that Jason was sitting on a shelf for the whole time he's not working with batman in the comics? Do we assume batman was sitting on a shelf twiddling his thumbs all that time during those three years he appears, either? It's perfectly logical to make the assumption that Bruce and Jason were still going out as goddamn Batman and Robin even when it's not shown on screen and having a relationship and interacting together even when it's not seen. In fact it's the most reasonable and logical assumption even. It's obvious Jason and Bruce's interactions extend past what was shown on screen so why wouldn't Dick and Jason? We know from Dick's relationship to his death that Dick cared about Jason. We know how much his death impacted him. Regardless of the (now retconned) terrible mess that was their relationship after Jason came back, they had a relationship, and it was good, and how deep it went is up to interpretation but it doesn't cheapen or lessen any of Dick's relationship with his other siblings to acknowledge that (like, seriously, even though some of them might view it as such in the story, dick's love isn't a prize that can only go to the one blorbo to win the competition. Personally I don't see Robin Jason being his favourite, and that's fine. Probably since, as I only have one sibling to be weird about, this is one aspect of Dick and Jason's relationship that I don't project onto them.)
There's a difference between saying "those are the only canon interactions between Dick and Robin!Jason that we know of" and saying "those are the only interactions that happened between Jason and Dick when Jason was Robin", especially if the next sentence is going to be something like "read a comic". I want to insist that I'm not saying that they have to have been super close. All I'm saying is I don't see, with the knowledge I personally have of canon and the retcons I choose to disregard (because of terrible writing), why considering that they were close wouldn't be canon compliant.
Leeway, nuance and up to interpretation stuff are fun and should matter for evaluating the level of canon compliance of your own headcanons, and I think it's especially important when trying to police other people's interpretation of canon: are you certain their interpretation is fanon and you're correcting it with the right canon, or is it a case of two headcanons clashing in the blank space between comic pages?
I just found it strange to never see it taken in account in the sometimes pretty emphatic takes I saw on the debate around their relationship, so those are my two cents on the matter. All this to say, [theatre joke in coming], when it comes to Dick and Jaybin, we could all stand to be more chill.
* btw i'm excluding dixon's nightwing year one from this conversation because I hate how it manages to shit on every one of the characters i've seen him write in it so violently and also fuck dixon, my jason comes from post-crisis not that crappy weirdo retcon.
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goddamnitmahtin · 3 days ago
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A Smooth Criminal
(A dc x dp prompt)
Danny moved to Gotham after high school. Went to college. Got a degree. Found out the thing he got a degree for wasn’t able to hire him because his vitals looked half dead and he couldn’t just tell them he was in-fact half dead. Danny was never going to be an astronaut. Not only that, he had massive college debt. Well fuck.
So Danny started doing odd jobs until he found a more stable income at a psychic reading service of all places. Obviously Danny couldn’t see the future. So he only took clients that wanted to talk to dead people. Which was something he could do, given he had an object that might have had some ectoplasm on it or one of the ghosts that typically hung out in the shop knew where to find the person the client was looking for. Being that this is Gotham, not many people that die here actually cross over into the Ghost Zone. Danny was going to have to look into that at some point. But for now, it meant he had only ever once had to tell a client he couldn’t help.
Now Danny before coming to Gotham, hated psychics on principle. Most were lying and telling their clients utter bullshit. But his current boss seemed to be different. Her name was Lilith and she was very much legit when it came to precognition. She often would tell him ahead of time if a client was going to be difficult and who to watch out for on certain days. On more than one occasion, one of her warnings saved him from a mugging or kidnapping.
So, Danny learned to like his life as a medium and used the money from his job to pay his rent and pay off his college debt. Lilith paid him well and the shop had enough customers to back it up. His hours were based on appointment most of the time so he had more free time to do other things if he didn’t have many appointments for the day.
The only time that the hours went to an 8 hour shift were when one of them left to go on vacation or visit family. Thats where Lilith was this week. Out of town visiting family. Because of this, the shop’s services were limited to Danny’s medium appointments. The shop almost never had walk ins since it was so busy. The only time it ever really happened was when Lilith was gone. And most of the time it was someone wanting to buy a crystal from the window display. Nothing Danny couldn’t handle.
Except that was until Red Hood walked in, oozing with toxic ecto and a shattered mess of a core, tossed a set of pearls at him and told him to get reading.
Danny tried to help, he did. The pearls were covered in ecto and seemed to be from a tragic event but there was no ghost attached to them. Whoever they belonged to had passed on to the Ghost Zone or wasn’t dead. Danny said as much and asked Red Hood if he knew his core shattered. Danny then offered to help repair it. Red Hood did not like that. Danny got punched in the face. And he did not get paid.
*that night on call with Sam and Tucker*
Danny: And then he punched me in the face! Can you believe that?!
Sam: Given that he is a crime lord? Yeah I can.
Tucker: ….
Danny: Tucker I don’t like your suspicious silence.
Tucker: *starts giggling mischievously*
Sam: Tucker what are you doing?
Danny: Tuck-
Tucker: So what you’re saying is that- you’ve been hit by, you’ve been STRUCK by- a smooth criminal. *starts playing Smooth Criminal by Micheal Jackson except the name Annie has been edited to the name Danny*
Danny: I hate you so much
Sam: *laughing hysterically*
Tucker: *singing* Danny are you okay? Are you okay Danny?
Danny: *looks into the metaphorical camera like Jim from the office*
Red Hood: *nearly falls off the fire escape he was using to spy when the guy from the psychic shop looks right at him*
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elfwreck · 2 days ago
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Remember: they have four years - maybe only two, depending on how many of them we can flip in 2026 - for their bullshit.
They are absolutely counting on keeping people too panicked and off-balance and confused to resist their true efforts, to reshape America into a place where people live in fear and obey not only the law, but what they think might become the law.
Lean hard into the communities you love and trust.
Don't let anyone convince to distrust your neighbor.
If the text of the new bills and horrific executive orders scares you, research the history of similar things - and realize that they're trying a blitz action they know won't actually work. They're throwing handfuls of shuriken into the air - and yes, some people are going to be hit and hurt badly. But it's not 1 blade = 1 death. It's not even 1 blade = 1 injury. They are counting on you seeing each bill or order that catches your eye and focusing on the damage it could cost, multiplied by how many attempts they're making - and not realizing they're not aiming and they have no strength behind any one of them.
(They will put strength behind any of them that seem to be working, which is why the lawsuits against them are necessary. But. They, too, have limited resources, and they're putting a lot into the scare campaign instead of sustainability.)
Give it a month, and we'll be seeing the "Oh no, I didn't know they meant ME!!!" posts from the leopards-eating-peoples-faces voters.
(...avoid putting too much energy into schadenfreude. We're all going to do a bit of point-and-laugh, but don't lose your sense of empathy along the way. There's a lot of reasons why people got duped, and not all of them are "because some of them are greedy and stupid and vicious.")
Find WHATEVER IT TAKES to cope, to support your friends and allies, to hold to whatever hope you can sustain.
If that's pulling back from political news, do that. If it's calling your representatives twice a week and talking into their message recorder until you fill it up and it's not taking messages anymore, do that. If it's gaming in a world where you smite evil necromancers and return the treasure to the people, do that. If it's reading fanfic where the good guys get even more ruined than what's happening in the US, because you want the real world to be *better* than your fantasy world, do that.
Stop feeding the trolls. Block liberally and often. When something saps your energy, look hard at it and decide if you actually need it in your life.
Focus on growing deep roots, not on reaching high and flowering brightly. Connect through tiny spores that move randomly. The lesson for the next few years is endure.
Become the mushroom so they can't kill you in a way that matters.
Listen to me. Listen very carefully:
They are trying to wear you out.
They are trying to wear you out, and they own most major social media now, along with many major media outlets. The disinformation machine is cranking along. You are going to have to slow the fuck down and read things before you help them wear out other people, too.
So you just saw a post about a real scary bill, hunh? Republicans want to make it a capital offense to pet dogs and repeal The Sky Is Blue Act of 1793, declaring the new official color of the sky to be squant? Damn, that sounds scary.
Let's go look up this fictitious "Make The Sky Squant Again Act" on GovTracker* & on the official legislative tracker on congress.gov!
Well, let's see... GovTracker estimates it has a 1% chance of even getting out of committee and a 0% chance of being enacted, while congress.gov says this bill has 2 cosponsors who have been in the House and combined total of less than a month. The bill doesn't have any actual text, and it was referred to 5 different committees.
That fictitious bill and a hundred others like it are quite literally not worth your time, and more than that, continuing to wring your hands about it and tell other people about the scary scary squant sky bill only does their work for them. It scares people, it makes them spend time and energy on it, and it wears them out. It is a legislative Gish Gallop, meant to throw so many things at people that we can't keep up.
Even calling or messaging your Rep in this case means their staffer has to waste time responding to you and letting you know that Representative Buttzonheads definitely won't support making petting dogs a capital offense, a thing that will never, ever happen regardless.
Staying engaged in this environment is going to require protecting your heart and protecting your energy, yes, but also protecting the energy of others. This is why WWII propaganda posters also included ones taking people to task for spreading panicky rumors and undermining morale.
Do you know why most observant Jews don't eat chicken and dairy together, even though the ban is on red meat and dairy together bc you're not supposed to cook the calf in the milk of its mother?** It's not because we think that chicken might secretly lactate or Just Because. It's because the rabbis decided that if I'm sitting out in public and eating turkey and cheese together, someone might glance at the turkey and mistake it for red meat and think, "oh, well, I know that Spider is a good Jew, there must have been a change, or maybe I can just justify it to myself that if Spider does it, it must be permissible to bend the rules just that much." And I would then be accidentally leading my fellow Jew astray. We are responsible for being even more careful for the sake of others than we are for ourselves.
It's the same principle here. We need to really be careful about the information we are spreading and check things past reading a news site. Is it true? Is it relevant? Is it meaningful? Is the news site one I recognize? Can I find meaningful independent corroboration on another site, which is to say, if I find an article about it on a second site, is it just quoting or rephrasing this site?
Yeah, that is a lot. But that's how we keep them from using us to lead our fellows astray.
*GovTracker is an independent site. They explain their methodology in their About section.
**I cannot say enough how I am not at this time interested in going on a Jewish Side Quest About Dietary Laws on this post. Usually, I love it, but hold off this time, please, y'all. Let's stay on target this once.
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