#and when i said i understand from a certain pov...

[leandra-kinard]

I can see your point that there's a clash of intention/topic here from your perspective. However, for me it was an opportunity to make a connected/related "counter" point (also not solely aimed at your original post but the added screenshot as well), because I also feel posts like yours could - under certain circumstances and through certain readings - be adding to a general harsher rift between the two factions than necessary. I'm definitely not saying that was your attention, but personally it's something that, let's say, slightly miffed me about this whole conversation a couple of times now, in a variety of posts.

I do understand why you think I should have made my own post on it, rather than adding to yours. But then again, I do enjoy a conversation and polite debate rather than just "ranting to the void". I believe it can be very beneficial to those engaging in such a debate in good faith and the ones reading it. But that's my POV. So I guess this is where we both clash in our preferences on how to add/debate or not debate/add to such posts, and that is fine.

Regarding the main points you made, you know how you meant it and what context you brought it up from - so in that regard it's fully valid - but some people may take it as "Ah look, this person, too, says the Buddies are homophobic (in general/often)". Tumblr reading comprehension and all, you know?

I am also definitely not saying you are erasing anyone's experience. I'm just saying, in general, this tendency to point to homophobia sometimes does that - albeit unintentionally, I assume. It is a bit of a slippery slope, imho, because sometimes the people expressing their wishes for a specific type of queer story (like what they imagine Buddie could have been like) are queer people who have made those very experiences or similar ones themselves - lesbians who fell on love with their best friend and finally gave up on comphet behavior, or people who believed themselves to be straight and realized they were bi after all (not dissimilar to Buck). I know you're not saying these people all come from a place of homophobia, but I personally see a risk of it being read that way. Of people falling into that mentioned trap of dismissing ANY pro-Buddie sentiment as homophobic /otherwise problematic.

So, regarding the last statement you quoted, this was meant more generally to the Bucktommy fandom and not per se you or your post. We are not having a private conversation here, we are doing it in front of an audience who will approach both what you and I are saying with highly individual biases and viewpoints.

There is no issue with the things you said per se, but imho the risk of certain takeaways that I have already seen expressed callously by other people, e.g. "Most of the Buddies are straight women who are deeply homophobic" or similar.

The whole Silken debacle is cringe AF, and embarrassing for the whole 911 fandom. And we really do not have to talk about some of the much more vile and toxic things that were said and done. I am in absolute and full agreement to call those instances out and, like you, am disappointed to not see enough of such calling out from the Buddie fans. That is highly regrettable and cowardly.

I also understand (through posts like yours even more deeply than I already did before, as a 44 year old queer woman who lived with a gay guy for many years and has known many gay men), that many especially young shippers have a sort of watered-down image of the "ideal gay relationship" that isn't reflective of reality. There's nothing wrong with having certain preferences when it comes to reading and writing fic, but there IS something wrong with painting things outside of that comfort zone as icky or bad (like all that shitty discourse on Tommy being predatory and similar stupid takes).

In years of shipping and engaging in fandom I've seen takes that were bordering on or veering into (unintentional) homophobia, or rather bigotry towards gay men in particular, because so much of it is based on a sexually/romantically inexperienced and predominantly female perspective. There's a difference between how lesbians and gay men live out their sexuality and love life - at least in tendency - and it's important to acknowledge that and, as you said, read up on gay culture if one isn't too familiar with some things. Or to simply acknowledge that many preferences and approaches are valid and good, and, as you said, here's not a limit to what kinds of queer representation should be present in popular media.

Anyway, I also appreciate that you replied calmly and in good faith. Just to make it clear again, I do not disagree with the things you said or with pointing out these particular examples. I just personally think it is important to also remember (and remind others - the "audience" of these debates) not to generalize as a takeaway from these very valid observations.

the more and more time i spend on tumblr and come across insane Buddie takes and behavior, the more and more i am convinced that the small, vocal, toxic subsection of shippers who don't know how to behave are, how shall i say it?

homophobic

they don't seem to actually like gay men. the situation with richard siken is an example of that. what they appear to like is their made-up version of what gay men are like and what they do. there's no concept of nuance or an actual understanding of queerness that informs their ship.

and i don't think you do need to understand it. sometimes you can just enjoy something without looking into it differently. but if you're going to be out on main talking about Buddie this and Buddie that, then you absolutely need to do the bare minimum and inform yourself on gay culture and gay issues so you don't, you know, go after a gay poet because you didn't like his tone.

sorry, there's a reason gay men of his demographic don't take shit. it's because they took so much shit that a large percentage of them died. the ones that survived don't owe you a tone when you act like an idiot.

the internet is free. wikipedia is free.

use a search engine and educate yourself, just a tiny little bit, and stop fetishizing while holding onto homophobic attitudes

[ode2rin]

It's painfully evident to anyone with two working eyes that Reo likes you.

Reo excels in almost anything, except hiding his devastatingly pathetic pining towards you. It's etched across his face, woven into his body language, and discernible even in his speech. It's embarrassing to the point that even someone as detached and inattentive as Nagi can discern it from a mile away.

Well, it’s not that hard to tell when Reo looks at you as though you've adorned the night sky with every sparkling star.

Nagi sometimes wonders if Reo even knows it himself. You weren’t any better too, always so oblivious of the lovesick fool fawning at everything you do — yet stealing glances when you’re certain the purple-haired isn’t looking.

Nagi had become an inadvertent witness to countless moments, each one screaming of the unspoken connection between you and Reo. From stolen glances across the classroom, where your eyes would meet, sparking a silent understanding, to the subtle brush of hands as you passed each other notes.

Watching you both tiptoe around your feelings is painful, especially considering that the two of you are the closest things Nagi has to friends. 

Maybe some minor intervention wouldn’t be a hassle, Nagi reasoned. 

“I like you, Y/N,” and so, he falsely confesses, purposely doing so while Reo stands just a few steps behind you.

Nagi observes your frozen reaction to his declaration, your bag hanging mid-air, frozen before settling on your shoulders. He notices the widened eyes and slightly agape mouth. Above all, he sees the color drain from Reo's face and the slight twitch of his eye in shock. At least he knows his plan is working.

A moment lingers, and you recover from the shock of his confession, still blissfully oblivious to Reo's presence in the room. “Sei... I-I'm sorry. I like someone else.”

I know, he says in his mind. He doesn’t say anything, prompting you to say more. 

“I’m sorry, Sei. I like Reo.”

And there it goes. 

Realization, relief, and everything in between coloring Reo’s face behind you. Reo has always worn his feelings in his sleeves— too transparent and too obvious.

“I know. I don’t like you,” Nagi admits to you, “I said it because he’s behind you.”

For the second time, you freeze at his words. The urge to turn and confirm or deny his statement tugs at you, but the fear of confronting Nagi's unerring honesty prevails.

Nagi Seishiro never lies unless he admits he does. Lying is too much of an effort, honesty is easier, he reasons.

You weigh your choices. Honestly, you'd rather be the butt of Nagi’s jokes than to face Reo if he’s really behind you. And so, you make your decision. Instead of turning to confront the embodiment of your unrequited feelings, you bolt for the door, leaving the two men to exchange silent glances.

“It's a lie?” Reo's voice breaks the silence.

“Yeah,” Nagi confirms. “Why aren't you going after them—”

Reo interrupts him with a confession, “I wouldn't know what to do if you liked them, too.”

I know, Nagi thinks again, staring at Reo before shrugging and collecting his belongings from the table.

“It will be a pain, I guess.” he shrugs again before finally turning his back to Reo to leave the classroom.

Suppose it's a good thing— it's a good thing Nagi doesn't wear his feelings on his face like you do, Reo.

Because it will really be a pain, indeed.

note. idk what this is but i present to you: pining reo written in nagi's pov or... i guess it could be more than that 🤷🏻‍♀️ (wrote this back in september pls throw the tomatoes gently)

[katakaluptastrophy]

Can we talk about Magnus in Harrow the Ninth? Because there's a tendency to paint him as this constantly cheerful figure and he's not - he's just very Fifth.

He's the only person who seems even slightly upset about the whole gun-toting horror thing:

“Did the Sleeper get them?”

“Only by assumption,” said Harrowhark, while Abigail’s dolt of a husband said, “I bloody hope so.”

“Magnus,” Abigail said, a touch disapprovingly.

“Well, if the Sleeper didn’t, that’s two maniacs with an ancient weapon and a love of blowing off faces, dear,” said Magnus.

And he's got a very low opinion of Silas:

"She won’t tell me what he said to her, just that he ‘was horrid.’”

“Cheeky little so-and-so,” said Magnus. “If he were my son, I’d give him something to think about. I’m not surprised he’s gone to ground.”

“I would hope your son might be of different character,” said his wife, half-smiling.

“Protesilaus should have biffed him.”

“It’s strange,” said Abigail, ignoring her husband’s exhortations to biffing.

Behind the jolly Jeeves and Wooster-esque talk of biffing people, let's remember that this is Magnus - who from Gideon's POV never saw a teenager he didn't want to adopt - earnestly wishing that a grown man had hit a 16 year old kid.

And when Harrow explains that she thinks she saw him jump to his death, Magnus isn't particularly sympathetic:

“We should have made him a greater priority,” said Lady Pent.

Magnus said, “I’m not certain.”

and

“We didn’t need him,” he said bracingly.

Abigail said, “We need everyone.”

“I never thought he was quite the thing.”

This "never quite the thing" line is the same one Abigail uses when she says Ianthe shouldn't have become a Lyctor and you get the sense it has a quite specific meaning on the Fifth. You get the distinct feeling Magnus is saying "good riddance" in response to a teenager's apparent suicide.

And then of course there's Magnus' conversation with Harrow as the River bubble collapses, as Harrow debates whether she should leave her body to Gideon:

She said: “If I go back, it will finally destroy her soul.”

It was Magnus who stepped forward and looked at Harrow face-to-face. And perhaps she felt that more keenly: that he was the man who had, in Gideon’s own words a lifetime ago, been nice to her cavalier. His mouth was hard now, but his eyes were as kind as they had ever been. And kindness was a knife.

He doesn't pull any punches in laying out his understanding of the situation to Harrow:

“This whole thing happened because you wouldn’t face up to Gideon dying,” he said, which was a stab as precise as any Nonius had managed. “I don’t blame you. But where would you be, right now, if you’d said: She is dead? You’re keeping her things like a lover keeping old notes, but with her death, the stuff that made her Gideon was destroyed. That’s how Lyctorhood works, isn’t it? She died. She can’t come back, even if you keep her stuffed away in a drawer you can’t look at. You’re not waiting for her resurrection; you’ve made yourself her mausoleum.”

His wife looked at Harrow’s face and murmured, “Magnus, you’ve made your point,” but he uncharacteristically ignored her.

He's trying to get through to her in a very fraught situation, but he's certainly not pulling his punches:

“You’re a smart girl, Harrowhark. You might turn some of that brain to the toughest lesson: that of grief.”

Abigail is also trying to talk her out of things, but she's much more discursive and apologetic. Magnus is kind, but it's kindness as a knife, not a cushion.

Magnus is so often written off as just a silly, goofy character, when he's more complicated than that. He's allowed to have a very real frustration with the River bubble and with Harrow, however much he does also care for her and want to help her.

And you know what, he's a CFO stuck in a horrorscape with his delighted ghost nerd wife and a bunch of soldiers. He runs with it - he cracks one of his House ordinal jokes while physically tackling a gun-toting ghost and makes a decent go at it before getting shot. But he's very much out of his comfort zone, angry, and no longer entirely held back by propriety.

[grandisknight]

zayne: a doctor's companion

summary: A certain healthcare companion finds its way into Linkon City, and a particular doctor is about to discover what it means to say ba-la-la-la-lah.

tags: established relationship, baymax (big hero 6), fluff, canon-complaint, one-shot, medical terms, phone call, gender neutral reader mentioned, mostly zayne's POV, first meetings

word count: 1.8k | (ao3)

notes: inspired by this tweet! also i just love baymax a lot and i think him and zayne would be a cute duo thank you ; including the stanford article i read for the surgery mentioned here! (not necessary for understanding though) (also if i get any med stuff wrong apologies i did my best! i was a girl in stem but not Stem yk)

+ update: the cutest zayne baymax art just dropped everyone say thank you mimi (zaynefied) (i cried)

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

Zayne was sure he had slept well the night before. Had his full eight hours, breakfast accomplished and a handful of kisses from his partner before heading out in his pristine, white coat. The drive to work was the same scenery of Linkon City rushing past, soon parked in his designated lot and tracing a familiar path towards Akso Hospital’s entrance.

So, even with such a practiced routine, how did he end up here? 

“I will scan you now. Please remain in place, Dr. Zayne.”

Zayne raises a hand in an effort to dissuade his unforeseen guest. “That won't be necessary.” But his rejection, in turn, was rejected itself—his brows narrowed at the losing notion.

“But it is. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion.” The robot calmly states, reflecting a similar monotone diction to the doctor. “I was alerted to the need of medical attention,” he continues, plush footsteps along the hardwood floor squeaking as he approaches the seated doctor. "When you said 'Oof.' So, I am here."

That singular oof traced back to the faint murmur under Zayne's breath just minutes ago when pushing through the growing crowd of peering eyes at Baymax's unprecedented presence. An unusual sight for everyday work life, the mysterious yet kind robot drew in the attention of incoming patients and passersby who happened to catch a glimpse. Zayne’s opportune timing and arrival to work hurriedly whisked away the looming inflatable as crowds huddled in growing excitement, geeking and gossiping alike. Most of his efforts thus far were put into escorting the curiously soft giant through the pristine halls and past the doorway of his office without garnering further unwarranted attention.

And currently, Zayne found himself subjected to a consultation by said robot.

“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?” Baymax inquires. A chart of faces ranging in emotion and color flash over his chest in display. At the highest end stood a red expression painted in anguish, and to the lowest was a green facade of serenity.

Quickly, Zayne plainly states his number to mirror his current state. “Zero.”

Baymax stares him down with the abyss of his rather blank eyes wordlessly after receiving the response. In mere seconds, a pixelated, monotone hum with a hint of warmth made its way to Zayne’s ears. “Scan complete. You have sustained no recent injuries. However, your cortisol and neurotransmitter levels indicate that you are experiencing stress.”

No, really? Zayne’s brows and posture straightened then, removing his glasses and setting them aside. He echoes the conclusion, pushing down the unspoken remark with a bite of his tongue. “Stress? Is that so?”

Baymax nods, holding up a singular finger as he continues to reveal his findings. “This can be attributed to, for example, overconsumption of sugary foods or work overload. Have you had any of these two things recently?”

Zayne’s lips purse in thought, remembering the new maple syrup you had doused his pancakes in over an hour ago. ‘I picked this up during an overseas mission and thought you might like it,’ you explained to him, drawing an intricately sticky pattern of hearts atop his breakfast. It was still just syrup—not so much a difference in flavor to a regular one you could find at the nearby supermarket—but he was grateful for the gift nonetheless as he indulged in the sweet treat with you.

“Sugar, yes. Nothing wrong with it when done in moderation.”

Sure, he had a sweet tooth. But had been doing well to maintain a healthy intake of sugary pieces, lest he wanted another round of your ‘scoldings’ and an appointment to the neighboring orthodontist again.

With a slight sigh, he clasps his hands together over the expanse of his desk and continues. As for workload? He was almost always caught up in it, whether it were hands-on procedures or consultations. Today was no exception to the rule.

“And I do have work, if that’s what you’re referring to.”

“I see. May I make a suggestion?” Baymax asks.

Zayne gives him a curt signal of acknowledgement. “You may.”

“I can assist you with said workload. I am equipped with several modules and sensors that will be of use.”

Zayne contemplates for a moment, curious to the veracity of such a claim. Well, when one forms a hypothesis, the best way to test out the theory was through a designed experiment; and he was ready to do just that. “Alright. Give me just a moment.”

With a couple of speedy taps, Zayne pulls up a recent patient file and gestures for Baymax to approach. As the airy robot bounces into place beside him, Zayne points towards a diagram, a series of numbers and waves indicating observational data. “Here. Based on what you see, can you tell me what surgery this patient underwent?”

Baymax follows the trail of red lines, analyzing quickly in succession. “Their ECG fluctuations are affected by the noraderaline administrations over time. This line,” Baymax points to a blue parallel. “Indicates the oxygen levels throughout the surgery duration.” Calmly, he turns to blink at Zayne. “Diagnosis? The patient underwent a coronary artery bypass grafting procedure.”

Zayne nodded. Each detail was right on par, much to his surprise. “I’m impressed. Your creator must have put a lot of great effort into you.”

“He did. He was wonderful.” Baymax gives a thumbs up in return. “Am I to take it that I have passed your test?”

So he knew, even without having to say anything. “You have,” Zayne confirms with a small smile.

“Here.” Baymax raises his fingers and curls them into a fist, waiting for Zayne to meet him halfway. Slowly, Zayne does just that, meeting the soft plush before it was pulled away and sealed with a robotic tune.

“Ba-la-la-la-lah.”

“Bah… What now?”

“We have completed our first task together. This warrants a celebratory fist bump.” Baymax returns his enclosed fist towards the confused doctor once more. “You must also say it while our fists connect.”

Not finding it in himself to disagree, Zayne repeats the actions from before and adds on with an unsure, “Ba-la-lah.” Slightly strange, though it held a tinge of endearment that reminded him of a certain someone; he suddenly didn’t mind it as much then, shaking his head to himself.

It satisfied Baymax all the same, hand wiggling away before a sound disrupts the next file to be displayed. Zayne’s phone rings then, a custom set of notes indicating there was only one special caller. Your name flashed on his screen, buzzing in patience as his gaze flicked between that and Baymax.

“Do you mind if I take this?”

Baymax blinks. “I do not mind.”

“Thank you.”

With a swipe, Zayne presses his phone to the cup of his ear, voice softening to answer your call. “Good morning. Are you heading out now?”

“Morning! How did you know?” 

Zayne could make out the rustling of keys with the pattern of your footsteps, a light yet amused scoff from him trickling into the receiver. Even if it weren’t for the traces of noise, you usually left around this time and always texted him a new emoji without missing a day. So, of course he knew. You followed up almost immediately with another answer to support your stance. 

“New mission just came in, and it happens to be near Akso. Guess we’ll be seeing each other again pretty soon.”

“Oh?” His brow quirks at the idea. “What requires you to be in the area, exactly?” Zayne’s hazel hues instinctively settle on the black pools of Baymax’s blink, already knowing the answer that you proceeded to relay.

“There was a… Wanderer sighted?” Even over the phone, your voice relayed doubt amidst a warm crackling sound. “Well it’s not exactly one…allegedly. But rather something big, round and white? Tara said it looked like a walking marshmallow,” you chuckled. Well, it’s not like you were wrong, Zayne confirms with another glance.

“Either way, it’s caused an uproar and the Association is sending me to check it out. I’m assuming you already know what it is?”

“I do.” Baymax tilts his head, pointing a finger to himself in quiet curiosity. Zayne raises his own to his mouth, indicating for a secret to be kept as he muses into the call. “And no, not a Wanderer. Stop by my office when you get here and you’ll see.”

“I’ll be there in 15 if traffic is kind to me,” you chirped in reply. He could make out the humming of your motorcycle come to life, indicating the start of your journey. “See you then! Love you.”

“Alright. Love you too. Be safe.”

As the call came to an end, Zayne shifted his gaze to the even shiftier companion before him. Though Baymax couldn’t necessarily smile, the doctor could feel it radiating off of its plush form as he lifted a familiar finger.

“Your pulse and heart rate have quickened greatly. The rate went from 87 beats per minute to 102 in about ten seconds.” Baymax pauses, and a screen with infographics begins to luminate across his chest once more. “Symptoms may include, but are not limited to, your pituitary glands—“

“I’m aware of how hearts work.” Zayne gestures around to their environment, the glimmer of his name tag reflecting the morning sun filtering through the tall windows. “And… everything else.”

He was a cardiac surgeon, first and foremost. His efforts and contributions have earned him plenty of accolades in the field, a testament to his brilliance and especially at a younger age in comparison to his medical peers. But second to none was he also your partner—naturally, his heart would’ve soared regardless. He was aware of the source to his increased palpitations.

“You are also smiling,” Baymax comments. “Does this person make you happy?”

Zayne freezes then, unbeknownst of how the edges of his lips were curled into a gentle grin. His mouth almost straightens, fingertips brushing over them in thought. He lets out a resounding hum in confirmation, looking away bashfully for a brief moment. “Very much so.”

“That is good. Having someone who makes you ‘happy’ will improve your quality of life.” As if sending him his seal of approval, Baymax gives an affirmative fist of encouragement. No sooner did a wrapped lollipop appear between said fist, and he held it towards Zayne in offering. “Here, have a lollipop.”

“Thank you.” Zayne takes the candy in acceptance, wrapper crinkling in removal before a taste of winterberry spreads across his tongue. “Shall we go through another file until a certain someone comes barging in?”

He could already imagine how your grand entrance would play out, and this time, knowingly smiles to himself at the thought.

With an enthusiastic nod, Baymax takes a nearby chair and places it beside Zayne’s own. Deflating slightly to fit the mold, he puffs up once more in preparation.

“I am ready. Let’s work together, Dr. Zayne.”

[officially-other]

Frog (For context; I am the "host" or "original." We don't really like either term, but it's easier than saying "I'm the one who identifies with the name and body we use and I was the one to start the questioning process" lol.)

So, to be clear; Our collective isn't median, but we relate a lot to some median experiences. The concept of median plurality was our first step into plurality due to the fact that, up until we heard about median experiences, we'd only seen the more disordered forms of plurality. At least- those were the only forms of plurality we'd heard about in detail. For those of you reading this who aren't OP: I promise I asked before reblogging to make sure our experiences wouldn't be unwelcome.

This is a fucking WALL of text, and I would not blame you for looking at it and going "well I'm not reading that." I just figured it was better to give you a wall of text you'd never read than to give you something small that won't be helpful because I omitted the parts you'd find useful.

What made you start questioning whether you were a system or not? And what brought you to discovering and adopting the "median" label? As I began questioning my fictionkinity, I ultimately felt... weird. I confirmed who I was, and suddenly had what I assumed was a mental shift. Except it felt like I'd been plonked into someone else's life, and "I" spent the next few days feeling weird about it and cleaning because "what the fuck do you mean I live like this?" Turns out that was actually someone else, which I learned when consulting the plurality chat in the otherconnect discord server and coming away with the information that no, switching does not always look like getting booted out of first-person POV, or blacking out. It can look like "who 'I' am changing." When it comes to the median label- while we're not median, I can say what chose us to not settle on that term. I've seen median systems described as 'facets of one person' to an extent, or somehow being anything less than completely separate individuals. That may be inaccurate, but it's our understanding of the term. We feel INCREDIBLY strongly that this isn't the case with us. We're individual people and get really pissed when not respected as such.

Was there ever one, big "Aha!" Moment for you? Or several smaller ones? What was the event(s) like, what happened? The first "Aha!" Moment was the above, with the second being Malaika's appearance. Malaika was the first of our headmates other than me to show up properly and introduce herself, and idk what to tell you other than it's really fucking hard to deny what's happening when you have a vaguely feral witch going "Buddy intrusive thoughts don't have extensive conversations with you." After that, I feel like our life has been filled with "Aha" moments. Our mom commenting that she always felt like we were really unpredictable and inconsistent with our reactions to certain things, finding certain memories that we KNOW must have been a certain person fronting, our memory as a whole makes such much more sense through the lens of plurality, hell even the kintypes I was questioning suddenly made more sense when I realized they weren't me at all. They were some of my headmates experiencing phantom shifts and strong feelings about their kintype while fronting, or said shifts/feelings bleeding into my own when they were near front.

For neurodivergent medians, how did you differentiate your systemhood from the rest of your neurodivergencies? (Ex: the difference between autistic masking and subtle/fluid switches, identity issues from personality disorder vs genuine facets, etc) I feel this question in my BONES. The answer is... it's really fucking hard. After being in public social spaces for a while, we put on the autistic mask so hard that we tend to get blurry. Our mom has learned that if she asks if it's still whoever she dropped off at an event/appt/whatever as we get in the car, the most likely response is "aaauuhhhh.... probably?" Our biggest tool was learning that I'm not the default. That just because we're masking, or not feeling a particular strong sense for who's fronting, doesn't mean it's me. 9/10 times masking doesn't even cause a switch, it just causes confusion.

Do you experience some form of frontstuckness, whether it's "nobody can ever front except one facet" or "I'm a shell and everyone fronts through me"? Ngl this one is funny, if at Venti's expense (to be fair he thinks it's funny too.) During the election we were under lots of stress and Venti got frontstuck for three goddamn days. We're pretty sure he was properly frontstuck, since he couldn't hear anyone else either, but he was also just too scared to even try to pull someone up and switch out because he was afraid it wouldn't work and then he'd feel properly trapped. So technically we aren't sure.

Semi related to above, how do you recognize switches? Especially early in your journey. Are they subtle? Can you switch intentionally or is it random? Personally, we can switch intentionally. A lot of our switches are intentional. Intentional switches are much less subtle because we actively turn our mind's eye to the innerworld and "watch" the switch happen. Person A steps out of the body and back, person B steps into the body and grounds themselves. Beyond that, I... actually don't know. Maybe we'll pay more attention and write a post on how we experience switches after a while for fun.

How do you discover the identities of your facets, whether they're another you or someone entirely unique? This may be less relevant to you due to the fact that we aren't median, but: it helps that most of our headmates are fictives. I can recognize that certain characters have had a "will of their own" to me for a while, or that I feel emotions about a certain character's story as if it were my own, or sometimes it's as simple as "Wow I associate this song with this character!" "Hi." "WHAT THE FUCK WHEN DID YOU GET HERE-" As for non-fictive headmates, it's only happened... twice. We only have two of them other than me lol. Malaika introduced herself, and she's learned much about herself as she fronts. Jasper figured himself out because he woke up fronting and realized he wasn't someone we knew about yet.

Prior to self discovery, did you ever experience talking to your brain/body/"inner self" as a separate being to yourself, whether or not you actually believed they could respond or were conscious? Literally fucking constantly. I personified my brain and we still do. "I want to do this but brain says no." etc. While I didn't consciously personify everyone else, I did have lots of "my own thoughts" that acted completely on their own. I just was used to them, and as someone who experiences intrusive thoughts on the regularly, simply thought they were another form of that. They uh. They were not.

Have you ever had the experience of "not being able to pick just one aesthetic", which you later discovered was your plurality? THIS. I cannot express my feelings on this strongly enough; yes. I was in love with so many different styles of fashion- even ones I could never see myself wearing! Those ones in particular confused me. Turns out some headmates just like styles I would never wear myself. I felt a huge relief when I realized that I didn't have to pick one and could instead just try and gather clothes to fit a few different aesthetics. That feeling settled into everything, though, so that realization ended up not helping. Not able to just pick one career path, a small enough number of hobbies to reasonably sustain, and even though it feels really obvious saying it now I felt like I couldn't pick one personality. But that was just.... not obvious to me at the time. I couldn't pick just one way to be. Now I know it's because "I" am more than just me.

Are you monoconscious, polyconscious, or something else? Are your facets "conscious/aware" in headspace/while not fronting? Is the current fronter aware of/able to interact with the other facets while fronting? I said monoconscious in the replies, but actually the term we use is split-monoconscious. It's the best we've found so far. We have no innerworld... Except we do. Uh. It's complicated. Whoever's in/near front can only access the void. Hence our current collective name: "From The Void." But recently we've gotten a very strong sense that there is an innerworld, even some vague ideas of what it might look like, we just... can't access it or memories from it consciously when near/in front. We can interact with each other in the void; and do often! We like to chat. But whoever isn't in the void is completely inaccessible. I wouldn't call them unconscious though. As far as we can tell, they're aware and doing their own thing in our innerworld. They just lose memory of it the closer to front they get, almost immediately after getting pulled into the void.

HOO BOI this post is huge and I'm too tired to edit it, so if it's a messy ramble it'll just stay a messy ramble. We've been meaning to post about our experiences more, but haven't found the time, so your post asking some systems/collectives direct questions actually helped with that writers block. I hope this helps a little even though we're not median, and even if not thank you for reading all this way if ya made it!

Hiiii, plural community! Questions for median systems, while I explore the possibility of being one myself, answer as many as you like:

What made you start questioning whether you were a system or not? And what brought you to discovering and adopting the "median" label?

Was there ever one, big "Aha!" Moment for you? Or several smaller ones? What was the event(s) like, what happened?

For neurodivergent medians, how did you differentiate your systemhood from the rest of your neurodivergencies? (Ex: the difference between autistic masking and subtle/fluid switches, identity issues from personality disorder vs genuine facets, etc)

For those of you with no headspace or very limited internal interaction, what is that like for you? How did you discover your system and how do you communicate (if at all)? Do you experience uncontrolled inner voices, like a lot of multiple systems do, or something else (internal/"ghost" emotions, visual projections, random thoughts popping up)?

Do you experience some form of frontstuckness, whether it's "nobody can ever front except one facet" or "I'm a shell and everyone fronts through me"?

Semi related to above, how do you recognize switches? Especially early in your journey. Are they subtle? Can you switch intentionally or is it random?

How do you discover the identities of your facets, whether they're another you or someone entirely unique?

Prior to self discovery, did you ever experience talking to your brain/body/"inner self" as a separate being to yourself, whether or not you actually believed they could respond or were conscious?

For those of you who are stoners, how does weed affect you and potential switches? Does it make switching/recognizing a switch easier?

Have you ever had the experience of "not being able to pick just one aesthetic", which you later discovered was your plurality?

Are you monoconscious, polyconscious, or something else? Are your facets "conscious/aware" in headspace/while not fronting? Is the current fronter aware of/able to interact with the other facets while fronting?

⚠️ NO SYSCOURSE ON THIS POST ⚠️

I do not want to engage in syscourse, do not attempt to start any with me. I simply want to hear about others experiences and hope to learn something about myself in the process. If you want drama, go elsewhere.

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

They're Mates - with Y/N Pt 3

Summary - Y/N decides she wants to learn to fly again.

Warnings/Other Notes - This one is in 2nd person pov because the first two chapters were looking at Y/N and Az’s relationship from a source not within their relationship. 2k word chapter- Again, some of these lines/plot points are inspired by, or directly quoted from, ACOMAF. This chapter takes place prior to the first two chapters.

Injury mentioned, though not super graphically. Reader relives/remembers having her wings cut.

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Masterlist

✨💫

You could feel the blade cutting into your wings. Tears spilled down your face as you screamed in pain, begging the Mother to make it stop. You were never going to fly again. The one thing that brought you unending joy, your only source of freedom, was being taken away.

“Y/N?”

The edges of your memories blurred. That voice, you recognized that voice.

“Y/N?!”

That sweet, honey-like voice called you. Something in you warmed and the pain lessened. Like you were basking in the sun.

“Y/N!”

You shot up in bed, your legs tangled in the sheets. A cold sweat dripped down your face and that same smooth voice kept saying something, but your mind was still catching up and couldn’t process them, not right now. Your chest rose and fell rapidly and then there were hands cupping your face. Not those smooth hands in the romance novels, but hands with bravery and adventure etched into them. Hands that felt like home. Your eyes shot up to meet a pair of hazel ones. Azriel.

“You’re safe. I’m here, your safe. Your father can’t touch you anymore,” the shadowsinger whispered to you. 

You nodded and leaned forward to wrap your arms around him. He reciprocated. You chased away the nightmare, remembering where you were. I’m here with Azriel. With Cassian, and Rhysand. With Rhys’s mother. Az saved you. Your arms tightened slightly around the shadowsinger, burrying your face into his muscular shoulder. His shadows curled around the both of you. His scent felt like home. The same scent that you had become familiar with every time you fell asleep, the one still lingering in the bedding when you woke up and he was gone off to train, with a promise to come back in time for dinner.

Sharing a bed with the Illyrian didn’t start right away, not on purpose. It just happened one night. Azriel never made it back to his own bed, instead he fell asleep comforting you from the same nightmare. Then it became purposeful, falling asleep and not returning to his own chambers. And one night the shadowsinger didn’t even bother finding his way into his own bed, Az just went straight to yours. You certainly didn’t mind and Rhys’s mother never said anything.

“Azriel?” You asked against his shoulder.

He placed the gentlest kiss to your temple. One that reminded you of a waltz you heard one day in Velaris. “Yes?”

You lifted your eyes to look at Az’s face. “What if I never fly again?” Your chest started heaving again. You broke away from the shadowsinger and looked away. It felt like someone had lit a fire inside you. Not one that someone makes to keep you warm on an incredibly chilly night, but a fire started out of malice, one to kill and destroy.

Azriel’s features became softer, contemplative if that was at all possible. “Impossible…because I’ll teach you.” 

Your eyes shot up to his face. “Are you…certain? Do you not need to train? I don’t—”

“I would spend the rest of my life in that damned cell for you again, Y/N.” He paused. “Don’t think I wouldn’t teach you to fly. Unlike Cass and Rhys I remember learning. Both of them would tell you to just flap your wings. I understand the fears and mental blocks of being older.”

You let out the softest laugh, wiping a drop of sweat from your forehead. “Thank you, Azriel.”

He nodded in his silence, considering something a moment. Az stood from the bed, his pants sitting low on his hips as he disappeared into the washroom and reappeared a few moments later with a damp cloth. “May I?”

You nodded and he gently pressed the cool cloth to your forehead, making the sweat disappear as if it had never happened. His shadows flitted through your hair. Whispering to you. Care. Care. Care.

The shadowsinger tried to call them back, but they had a mind of their own, especially around you. You chuckled lightly. Silly little guys, acting like a bunch of toddlers. When Az decided he had done a sufficient job of wiping your face he pressed another kiss to your forehead before hanging the cloth to dry and returned. 

You were lying down in the bed when he returned. He climbed in next to you before pulling you against him. You both fell asleep and slept soundly for the rest of the night.

The following day you went into Velaris with Rhysand’s mother to run a few errands. Her skills as a seamstress were impressive and she used it as an opportunity to occupy a portion of her time. You stopped at your favorite bakery to pick up a few things for dinner that evening. You also found a used book on diplomacy that was on sale. Rhys’s mother kindly bought it for you; well maybe more for Azriel’s shadow who seemed desperately intrigued with it. When you returned home, to your surprise, Trouble, More Trouble, and Too Much Trouble, were already there. (Nicknames you had aptly given to Azriel, Rhysand, and Cassian.)

Too Much Trouble grinned when he saw you and clapped his brother on the back. “This one here got us kicked out early today for starting not one, not two, but three fights. I mean he looked like death coming to collect souls for the next life. Don’t insult, Y/N!!”

“Shut up, Cassian,” Rhys said, giving a pointed look.

“You weren’t any use, Cassian,” Azriel growled back while shoving his brother’s hand away from his shoulder. Az had a black eye and dried blood along his cheek bone. He didn’t meet your gaze but his shadows happily slithered over to you. Protect, Protect, Protect, they whispered to you. Then you understood the shadows’ need to be near you, hovering. The reason why you had a shadow over your shoulder since Az saved you from your father. A form of protection, something to keep you safe, something to report back to the shadowsinger if you were in danger. 

And that’s exactly what Azriel had done earlier that day. Defended you without remorse. 

You glanced at Cassian who had a bruise on his jaw and then to Rhys who also had a black eye. Rhys’s mother looked far from pleased. “Cassian. Rhysand. Upstairs! Clean yourselves up.” Her gaze turned to the shadowsinger. “Azriel. Sit .” She announced as she put the bags down from your earlier trip to Velaris. 

For all her softness, Rhys’s mother certainly had a sharpness to her not often seen. Rhys and Cass’s wings hung ever so slightly and only for a moment before they shifted again and they disappeared up the stairs. You followed them.

When you got to your room, you opened the book bought earlier that day and began reading on the bed. The sheets still smelled of him, of both of you. The shadow rested on your shoulder, appearing deeply engrossed in the words too. About fifteen minutes later you could hear the shadowsinger coming up the stairs. You knew it was him for the sole reason of his footsteps. You had learned how Azriel, Rhysand, and Cassian walked. The heaviness of their feet, the pace.

You could hear Az and Rhys out in the hall. “Your mom wants you,” is all you heard before Rhys is walking downstairs and the shadowsinger is walking into your room. You closed your book to look up at him.

“C’mon.” The shadowsinger stepped towards the small balcony and opened the doors. “You can’t learn to fly in here.”

“What,” you asked him, confused.

“You think I started the third fight for the fun of it?” Azriel asked, offering his hand out to you.

You only gave him a confused look, remaining on the bed.

He walked back towards the bed where you sat reaching for your boots. He knelt down on his knees. “Sure, the moron had it coming. That doesn’t change the fact that fighting with him for a third time got me the afternoon off to teach someone how to fly.”

Your mouth fell agape. “Azriel,” you admonished and a smile came over the shadowsinger’s lips before pulling on your boots. “I am perfectly capable of putting on my shoes, Az.”

He only offered you a hand after he tied them up. You took it before he swept you into his arms. You craved his embrace, more than so many other things. Azriel walked back towards the balcony and shot into the sky.

You never imagined how some people hate this, because Gods this felt good, felt like freedom. It reminded you of your childhood when you flew whenever you could, as if flying up into the sky might take you away from all of your problems. You just hoped the next time you flew it would be on your own wings.

Azriel landed in a clearing, gently placing you down on the ground carefully, to make sure you didn’t fall. “I want you to be careful. If anything hurts too—”

“I promise I’ll tell you,” you said to him with a nod. 

“Is it…is it okay…okay if I touch your wings? For correction I mean? Should it be… necessary?” The shadowsinger asked from behind you, almost nervously. For good reason. The concept of touching someone’s wings without permission, in particular females, was beyond inappropriate. 

You nodded, you could sense the shadowsinger behind you, observing your wings carefully. You could feel his eyes scanning up and down. “Azriel?” You asked quietly.

“I can’t say I am a healer and know the anatomy well, but perhaps we start at the beginning. Test the muscles, the ligaments.”

You nod, something feeling oddly intimate about the moment. You turn to face the shadowsinger whose face had contemplating written all over it.

“Try spreading them and tucking them in,” he said as you faced each other. 

You nodded, spreading your wings as best you could. Mother above you hadn’t actually tried to do this in a while. You grimaced but managed to spread them, pushing them to your full extent, spreading your feet to offer you more balance.

A small smile of pride was clear on Azriel’s face. “Now fold inward.”

You did, slowly, afraid to tear or rip something in your wings. You couldn’t stop the smile when you folded inward with success. 

“Good,” he said with a mild amusement in his eyes. “Try again.”

You spread your wings again, your muscles ached, but that was good. That meant they were there, that meant you had a chance. 

Azriel’s eyes followed the movements, and cauldron boil him if your form wasn’t the most stunning thing he had ever seen. The shadowsinger had to put more concentration into not letting his knees buckle under him than he would like to admit. Beautiful. Stunning. Lovely. Beautiful, stunning. Lovely, his shadows whispered in his ear.

You pulled your wings shut rather than slowly closing them which caused you to lose your balance slightly, falling forward. Azriel reached out to catch you before you could land on the ground with a light amusement in his eyes before he suddenly realized how close in proximity you were to him. 

You’d been this close before. By the Gods, you shared a bed every night, but something felt different. You gently rest your hands against the shadowsinger’s chest in silence. 

“Y/N?” He asked quietly, hands shifting to cup either side of your face.

You looked up to see his face leaning down slightly. “Azriel.”

You don’t know who leaned in first, maybe Azriel, maybe you. It didn’t matter, because moments later the shadowsinger’s lips were on yours. They were sweet, and salty, and soft and warm. Like a warm biscuit on a cold night. Your fingers wound up in his hair before he pulled away. “Was that okay?”

His response was pulling your lips to his again, harder, more desperately like he had lived in a dry desert for centuries and you were a tiny pool of water in the middle of it all.

You returned to opening and closing your wings, building the muscle until it was as easy as walking, though it certainly felt like the cauldron was burning you alive when you woke up the following morning. But you couldn’t be bothered, you were going to fly again.

Taglist: @5onedirection5

[restinslices]

Can we take our beautiful boy Smoke's virginity? 🙌🏾

I was thinking of a drabble but you can write this however you find easier ;)

If Tomas has no fans, then I'm dead. No gender is specified and reader is a softie because it's what everyone in this situation deserves. Also POV jumps from his to the readers. This was supposed to be a drabble but then I kept typing :D

Tomas was considered behind when it came to certain life experiences. It wasn't something he was necessarily ashamed of, but it was something he knew was true. His type of life didn't allow him to worry about certain things.

Dating was one of them. He knew that teenagers and young adults were supposed to date and experiment, but he never did. Never dated anyone, never held hands, kissed someone, went beyond that.

That didn't mean he had no desire to.

"Are you sure?" You asked softly, eyes observing his reaction to everything. "We can stop. I won't be upset or anything". The truth was that you wanted him badly, always had and always would. You would've certainly lost track if you had to count the amount of times you daydreamed about having him all to yourself, lips on yours, hips moving in a steady rhythm. But a relationship and sex wasn't a one way street. You wouldn't pressure him to do anything he wasn't comfortable with, even if you would be old and wrinkly by the time he wanted to be inside of you.

Tomas on the other hand felt a sense of nervousness he had never felt before. As bad as it sounds, killing someone was easy. He did it without thinking. Now though, you were depending on him for pleasure. "I'm gonna be incredibly bad at this... " he mumbled.

"That's alright" you said in the same soft tone, hand wrapping around his, which was wrapped around his cock. "Everyone's first time is weird. You'll get better over time. I'll help you".

Your other hand cupped his face, your thumb tracing his cheekbone when you noticed him leaning into your touch. "You can say no whenever and we'll stop. I promise"

"I want this". Nerves and all, he wanted this. Your hand stayed on his, guiding him closer and closer to your entrance, his nerves becoming stronger.

And then his nerves stopped, replaced by something far stronger; pleasure. He felt a chill go down his spine, and he only had the tip in. How long was he expected to last when you felt this good?

He felt equally good to you. Sure, you had been with other men before, but they were smaller. Everything about Tomas was bigger - his dick, his arms, his pecs, his height, everything about him made him better than any man you ever met.

You continued guiding him, making him stretch you around his cock slowly until eventually you could feel his balls pressed against you. And although you wanted him to pound inside of you right then and there, you forced yourself to remain patient. Tonight wasn't just about you. It was about him. Your arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer to you, taking in how pretty he looked with his lips parted and deep breathes coming in and out of him.

"Wow" was all he could muster when he finally spoke.

"Good wow or bad wow?

"Definitely good- wait. How long am I supposed to last?

"Uhh" how long? Um, long enough? You didn't know if there was an average time, but you knew the chances were low that he'd make it. "Don't worry about lasting long. It's your first time, okay? You'll last however long you last"

He nodded before his lips found yours, muffling both of your gasps as he pulled out, then pushed himself back in. "Was that okay?

"Perfect. Keep doing that" your legs wrapped around him, keeping him close as he began to find his rhythm.

Tomas couldn't understand why he hadn't done this with you before. Well, he understood that he simply wasn't ready before now, but the way you gripped him made him forget all about those previous worries. You were perfect. Stretching you open was almost too easy, but now that he was inside you, your hole held him tightly, letting him feel every bit of you. Every bit of your insides that were made for him.

He didn't know how fucked out he looked. That's what added to your pleasure besides the obvious. He had bit down on his lip to stifle his moans at first, but after some time he just couldn't keep quiet. If he wasn't kissing you, whines were falling out his mouth. Here he was, an assassin with arms bigger than your hands and a heavy cock in between his legs, whining because of how good you felt.

It wasn't one sided. He felt perfect to you aswell. His thick cock stretched you open, his veins rubbing against your insides. You hardly needed to instruct him. His tip always managed to be exactly where you needed it to be.

"I'm-" his sentence was cut off by a choked groan, his eyes squeezing shut as he shot his load inside of you.

You placed soft kisses on his cheeks, soothing him as he came down from his orgasm. "You did really good" you praised in between kisses.

His head fell to the crook of your neck, your fingernails gliding along his scalp and you unwrapping your legs around him. "You didn't cum" you heard him mumble against your neck. Well, you both had known he wouldn't last long

"No big deal. Tonight wasn't about me, it was about you. Did you like it?

"You have to ask?

You chucked, "I just enjoy clear communication"

"Then yes, I liked it". He lifted his head up enough to give you a kiss on the cheek, "should I feel this tired after?

You nodded, then tried to push him off only to feel him swat your hands away. "Wanna fuck you again, just need to breathe. Stay"

Who were you to turn your pretty boy down?

[just-bible-musings]

As a Christian, I don't believe in abortion. BUT. I can actually understand it from a certain pov.

I would argue that the obvious solution is to go back to teaching abstinence before marriage (along with a lot of other unpopular topics). But not only is that extremely unlikely to happen anytime soon (which makes me sad), that won't help the women of the current age who WEREN'T taught that and don't see why they shouldn't be allowed to have sex whenever or with whoever they want.

So... the BEST option right now is that the church NEEDS TO DO IT'S FRIKKIN' JOB! Sheltering these women and supporting them and their children. And that includes getting them AWAY from their wifebeating husbands and bf's (and their parents too in many cases!).

The whole Christian church takes an attitude of "you made your bed now lie in it." Jesus NEVER said that.

To the woman taken in adultery (John 8:1-11), Jesus said only "go and sin no more"- AFTER telling off every single one of the Pharisees arguing to stone her. And Jesus only brought up the woman at the well's past (John 4) because He could see that it was plaguing her and He wanted to heal her from it. The end of the conversation went something like this (I'm paraphrasing):

"Bring your husband here and we'll talk more." "Yeah, um, I don't have a husband." "I know. You've had 5 husbands before and now you're living with a guy that you're not married to." "Huh? How did you know-? Whatever... the Messiah is coming someday, maybe He can explain a few things." "Ma'am, you're talking to Him."

The woman's response was to run back to town and tell people, "I found the Messiah! He told me everything I ever did, He HAS to be the Christ!" (Again, paraphrasing, not quoting.) Leading me to conclude that Jesus only mentioned the woman's past because it was how He intended to lead her to faith in Him.

This is how we're supposed to treat people. We're supposed to LOVE them and TAKE THEM IN, not leave them somewhere to die. Educating them on how to conduct their lives better can come AFTER we've made sure they freaking SURVIVE!!!

I have to wonder if maybe a lot more women would be less likely to get an abortion if they thought they had any other option.

The number one cause of death in pregnant women is murder. Think About That.

[linlinaert]

The last soulmate : chapter 2

Yandere! ot8! Skz x soft! fem! reader

Minho's POV:

We took off into different areas, aiming to find our last piece, and as I went into the direction I aimed for, I felt as if a piece of me is drifting little by little, that led me to know that they are not here, I tried so hard to hold myself from sprinting in another direction to look for them. I interacted a little with the fans then went to hannie. A bit later Chan hyung came looking on edge, it doesn't appear too much on his face but I can pinpoint it when his angry or stressed or any other emotion, cause that's what we're here for after all.

He came to where I was standing and laughed with the fans a little bit, he then came closer to me and whispered in my ear.

"I've found her, min." Chan whispered which made my eyes widen for a fraction of a second then quickly composed myself, remembering that I'm still Infront of fans, then I looked at him.

"Her? She? A girl?" I asked cautiously as if someone will hear us and understand, it was shocking to me to hear that our last piece was a girl, cause we just predicted that since the eight of us are males, the last one would also be a he, but i guess fate has other plans, and I was getting exited.

"Yes, min." Chan-hyung said, he smiled at me, "she's over there, go and see her and I'll tell the rest, and she doesn't know that we're soulmates, she didn't understand the pull, oh, and I'm warning you, she's too beautiful you might get blind" he added, then I raised my eyebrows at him, he's already smitten, even though he didn't even get to talk to her yet. I nodded then took off into the direction he came from, as he went to hannie and the rest.

I stopped and waved to the fans, I felt it, she was here, I looked around and saw it, the most enchanting (e/c) orbs I've ever seen, there she was, our last piece, she looked at me with a cute little frown on her pretty face, oh god does she look so innocent and pure, she looks like the type to get hurt from even the wind, how did she survive in this cruel world without us, i can't believe she lived all those years without our protection and care, I can't imagine how many hopeless guys tried to court her, I felt a vein pop in my head, she's always been ours, even if we weren't there with her, no one has the right to be near her, then I saw a hand wrapped tightly around her shoulders, my eyes widened, i looked to her side only to see a guy in his twenties glaring at me with his hand around MY soulmate, MY GIRL, how dare he, the audacity he has to glare at me while touching our girl, i glared at him back, then a hand on my shoulder brought me back to reality, I turned to see changbin and Felix, who looked at me with a look that says "don't forget that we're in a concert", so I turned back then posed with them for the fans, as they looked at her, they had the same reaction as me, who can blame them, no one expected our last soulmate to be a beautiful lady, i helped them to stay in touch with reality and not get too carried away, and one by one we all had seen her, and we all had one thought in our mind, what the hell is that guy to her?

Y/N pov :

As the concert went on I was certain that all eight of them had eye contact with you, I can't help but think that they are coming in this direction way too much, but maybe I'm only overthinking, but whenever they came this way, my heart feels like a ball of emotions, I feel so happy, and whenever they made eye contact with me, I felt like blushing and hiding somewhere.

Through out the concert, I felt jack's hand wrapping tightly around me, I looked at him, I didn't know why he was acting like this, but maybe it was because of the stares I was getting from the boys, he brought my head to lay on his shoulder or chest more than once, not that i complain, it was comfy.

~~~~~~~~~

After the concert ended,we headed home, we ordered dinner and ate, and the next morning, we went to the fanmeeting, jack was tagging along with us, me and Lucia were discussing yesterday's performance, with jack laying his head on my shoulder, and playing with my fingers.

The fanmeeting started and we were going down the line to get to the boys, my turn came and I sat Infront of the first one that I had learnt his name was Han Jisung, he was looking down at first, and then when he looked up and looked me straight in the eyes, I felt as if my whole body was on flames, beautiful flames, electric shocks went down my body, i couldn't take my eyes off of his, they looked like they hold the whole universe and more, Jisung was like me, but he looked like he knew what was happening, he then smiled softly.

"Hi there, pretty." He said softly, getting me out of my daze, I blushed hard making him chuckle, and I looked down.

"Hi" I whispered, as he took the album from my hand to sign it.

"And what is this beauty called?" He asked looking at me smugly, and I blushed, it's so hard not to when a handsome man is flirting with you like that.

"Y/N" I said, then he quickly signed it writing a bit more on the page then proceeding to close it and put it aside, while I was playing with my fingers, he then looked at me and took my hand in his, this sent a jolt of electric shocks through me, I looked at him shocked, and he only smiled.

"So Y/N do you have a boyfriend?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jisung's POV :

"Bye~~~" I said to one of the fans as she moved to hyunjin beside me, I looked down at my bracelet playing with it a little until I felt someone sitting Infront of me, I looked up only to freeze, it was her, our last piece, our girl, she really came, we were going to go look for her after the fanmeeting, but she's here now, I felt my body burning up in flames as her beautiful orbs stared into mine, she's more beautiful up closer, I smiled softly at her.

"Hi there, pretty." I said with a soft tone, unlike the hyper tones I use most of the time, something in me is telling me she's a big sensitive softie, she blushed, oh my gosh, she's so cute, I couldn't help but chuckle at her cuteness, I'm barely containing myself from getting overhyped as to not scare her away, my leg is bouncing under the table from my excitement, then I heard a small voice, and i realised it's hers, and oh my god isn't it so sweet.

"Hi" she said barely as a whisper and I literally felt myself melting, I gently took the album from her hands, I opened it to sign then I realised that I still don't know her name, so I looked at her and asked her for her name flirtatiously.

"And what is this beauty called?" I looked at her waiting eagerly to know the name of my last soulmate, I saw her blush and say "Y/N" I didn't waste time and signed the album for her, our Y/N, even her name is beautiful, I felt someone glaring daggers at me so I subtly glanced at my right side only to find that it's the same guy from yesterday, the one who dared to put his hands on our girl, I returned the glare without anyone but him noticing then I wrote my number on her album with a "your handsome soulmate" on the side then I closed it and looked up at her again, she was playing with her fingers on the table, not looking at me, ah i think I'm gonna die from her cuteness, I took her little hand gently in mine, and I instantly felt as if I was in heaven, she looked at me shocked so I smiled at her, then I felt the glares again so I asked her, hoping that I get a negative answer.

"So Y/N do you have a boyfriend?" I said knowing that her being alone for too long, could make her think that she's alone and she could get a boyfriend, and the thought alone makes me rage, but who can blame her, the blame is on us for not finding her earlier and on the said boyfriend, if there's any, to think that he can take somebody else's soulmate.

I felt hyunjin's leg hitting me underneath the table, but I didn't care, not when that damn motherfu-ker has the audacity to touch my girl and challenge me in public, I heard her pretty voice denying that she has any.

"N-no, I don't, why are you asking?" She said softly, her eyebrows frowning in confusion, then I smiled, thinking of how to break it to her.

"I wouldn't want my sweet soulmate to have a boyfriend now would I ?, and neither would want the rest of us" I said winking, and I saw her stop functioning for a second, then she blinks and looked at me with a shocked face

"What---" she said but she was cut off by the manager as he said that the time was up, and ushered her to hyunjin a bit harshly making both me and hyunjin glare at him, but before I opened my mouth to knock some sense into his head, another fan sat Infront of me, so I forced a smile on my face and made a note to talk to him later.

Author's note : hi there everyone!!! It's a little chapter showing our dear minsung's thoughts 🤭🤭, I feel like it's a bit plain but I really hope you will like it and love you all 💕

Tag list :

@lyramundana

@queenmea604

@channieandhisgoonsquad

@oasis-ara1234

@yaorzu-blog

@hydrawaterdragon

@epitios

@annispamz

@samhiddles

@krishastumblernow

@cypher-girlx

@generalbearangel

@fuckthinking

@xvsnahc

@icywinter1999

@aimr9

@xcookiemonsteer

@turtledove824

@salfetkablog

@nobody3210

@realrintaro

@ireumoonie

@henrietta-wh0r3

@haleyms

@strawberry31

@amaranthine-psyche

@haileybugulug

@marvelsmarauder

@finnickodaddy

@anything4lix

@kiaralynn3838

@dahliadaenerys

[bad268]

I love you work oh my lord !!! Can you do another Pezzy x reader I adore them and no one seems to request them much !! Something fluffy !! ( established relationship if possible !)

Confess or Drink Pt. 2 (Pezzy X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Miscellaneous

Requested: Clearly (I also combinded this with @strawberrycheesecake3 's request of Confess or Drink pt. 2. Hope y'all don't mind <3)

Warnings: language, jokes of domestic violence (trust it's light-hearted)

POV: First Person (I/me)

W.C. 1283

Summary: The day after the infamous Truth or Drink stream.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

<- Part 1

~~(^Pinterest)

The ride to the nearest iHop wasn’t bad. I had ridden with Pezzy before, and it wasn’t any different than the hundred other times I rode with him. When we pulled up to the iHop, Pezzy shut off the bike and held out his hand to help me off.

“Well, thank you, kind sir,” I joked in a posh accent as I stepped off the bike and pulled my helmet off.

“Oh of course,” He joked back, taking his helmet off as well before standing up and gesturing toward the door. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” I took his hand as he led us inside. There weren’t many people, so we got seated pretty quickly. We got to our table, ordered coffees, and sat quietly as we looked over the menus as if we both didn’t already know what we were getting.

“So,” I trailed off as I put my menus down and took a slow drink of my coffee. “Do we wanna talk about last night?”

“Let me just say this first,” Pezzy rushed as he put his menus down too. “I just need to know if it was a bit for the stream.”

“No…? What made you think it would have been a bit?” I asked confused. Everybody knows that alcohol brings out the truth in people, and I was certain he felt the same. At least, that’s what Grizzy told me, so I left loose for the stream. I decided before I started drinking that if I said anything, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“It’s just,” Pezzy hesitated, looking anywhere but at me. “With our job, we like to exaggerate things, and I don’t know if that’s one of the things.”

“Max,” I stated, and his attention snapped to me. In all the years I had known him, I never used his name unless I was being serious. He was always Pezzy or Pez to me. Always has been. “I wouldn’t fuck with you like that. What I said, I meant. You don’t understand how long I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you, and when y'all invited me for the truth or drink stream, I thought I would just go with the flow. If I confessed, I confessed and we would figure it out later. We’ve always been a team, and I couldn’t stop myself from falling. I’m sorry if that’s not what you want.”

“I never said I didn’t want you,” Pezzy said quietly as he reached across the table to hold my hand. “I have waited years for my dream to come true, I’m just a coward and never took the first step. I would have rather been your friend than risk losing you altogether. Your confession was the best thing ever.” He stopped for a second and looked expectantly at me.

“This makes sense,” I laughed, leaning my head down to rest on the table for a second before looking back up at him, resting my head against my open palm. “Our whole friendship has been flirty because we were harboring feelings for each other. It’s no wonder the fans thought we were dating the first day I joined your stream.”

“No way the fans clocked us first,” Pezzy groaned as he smacked his face into his hand. Just then the waiter showed up to place our orders. We both ordered our breakfasts/lunches, and the waiter took off to put the orders in. That’s when Pezzy turned his attention back to me,” So where does this leave us?”

“Where do you want us to go from here?” I teased, taking a small sip of my coffee as I eyed Pezzy over the rim of the mug.

“I’d like to take you out,” Pezzy replied confidently as he also took a sip from his coffee, looking at me the same way I looked at him.

“I really hope you mean on a date,” I chuckled, causing Pezzy to choke on the hot liquid.

“Well, what the hell else would I mean?” He hissed as he leaned closer, confused.

“Take me out like,” I pause as I make a gesture of slicing my neck. Pezzy’s expression went from confusing to shock in seconds as I laughed. “I’m kidding just so you know.”

“I would hope so! I’d never take you out like that!” Pezzy gasped before smirking. “I’d use a gun.”

“Woah! Not even through our first date and you're talking about murdering me,” I said a little louder than the rest of our conversation as the few patrons looked over at us concerned. Pezzy frantically slapped at my arms to get me to quiet down. “Oh, and now you’re hitting me? This is domestic abuse!”

“No, no, no, stop,” He groaned with a small smile, knowing this was just how I liked to tease him. Everyone was still looking over at us, concerned, so Pezzy tried to remedy the situation. “It’s fine, we’re joking!”

“Um, your food,” The waiter said confused as he stood in front of our table with the food. 

“Oh, thank you,” Pezzy said, uncomfortable with the amount of eyes on us. 

“If we didn’t take the bike, I would suggest we take it to go,” I laughed as the waiter set our food down.

“We still could,” Pezzy offered. “I could drive slower than normal and we could head home. Or we could go to the park that’s like a block away.”

“I like that plan,” I smiled at Pezzy before turning my attention to the waiter. “Could we next boxes and the check please?”

Later that night Grizzy and Droid came back to the house, and we had Puffer over again. We didn’t plan on filming, but we were a group of friends who had nothing else better to do that night. We were all sitting in Grizzy’s recording room as the four of them played Mario Kart. I sat at Grizzy’s desk, so I could read chat.

“What happened after the stream? I need to know.” A lot of the chat had this or something similar, and part of me wanted to ignore it, but another part of me wanted to see what Pezzy felt.

“Hey guys,” I got their semi-attention because they were in the middle of a lap, “Chat wants to know what happened after the stream.”

“Pezzy got laid, that’s what,” Droid said immediately as all of the guys laughed minus Pezzy and myself. “Okay, not really. Grizzy and I stayed at Puffer’s place.”

“And we went to iHop,” Pezzy said just before cursing as he got hit by a red shell.

“Is that code for something?” Puffer whispered to Grizzy but their mics caught it clearly.

“No, it’s not code for anything,” I laughed at them. “We went to iHop, made a few questionable jokes about killing each other, and left to come home. It’s not that deep.”

“Not that deep! Pezzy never goes to iHop!” Grizzy pointed out as they all crossed the finish line with Puffer winning (shocker!). “He must really like you if you convinced him to go to iHop.”

“He took me there on his own accord,” I admitted as I put my hands up in mock surrender. 

“Because I know you like it!” Pezzy defended himself, and silence fell around the room. All of us looked between each other before I slowly turned my attention back to the screens. I briefly looked directly into the camera before leaning into the microphone.

“Pezzy and I may or may not be together now, so that also happened,” I whispered into the mic before glancing back at the rest of the boys who were not shocked at all.

“FUCKING FINALLY!”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[boimann]

A while ago you made a post abt neurodivergent headcanons for the TF2 characters, and included Medic having chronic mania/hallucinations. As someone who experiences those very things I’ve been wanting to hear further on your thoughts surrounding this headcanon (that I share myself :D). If you’re up for/comfortable with writing abt it, I can understand if you’re not :) Still! I wanted to say I enjoyed seeing a headcanon abt medic dealing with psychosis that wasn’t an angst fest or “grr scary and evil!!!” Type deal

I feel the same way I'm exhausted of seeing psychosis always get demonized (that headcanon was basically just me projecting on my favorite little guy) also i have been dying for an excuse to expand on this headcanon so thank you anon!!!!

as said in my previous post medic has hallucinations on the daily, mostly minor auditory stuff

I don't think he would be freaked out by his hallucinations, he'd be fascinated by them and he would want to study them (he follows cartoon logic: he hallucinates a big scary monster and he sticks his head in its maws and marvels at its teeth)

sometimes tho he gets too wrapped up in his hallucinations and has a hard time separating what's real from what isn't and that's where Archimedes comes in

medic trained him to pick up on certain cues to which he responds by perching on his shoulder and applying pressure therapy by pressing on the side of his neck

other times he tries to get medic to pet him to distract him and make him focus on something soothing instead

occasionally tho it's better to ask the other mercs for help and he just goes up to them and straight up asks them if what he's seeing is real

he's told them of his situation and they are all pretty used to it at this point (also this is probably one of the more normal things about the guy who sews animal organs into people)

although sometimes when he's alone with scout he gets to have a little fun with it: he gets really close to him, stares into his soul with his cold blue eyes, points at the nearest corner and goes "do you see zhe grinning man?"

medic has put the fear of god in scout for the funnies and scout has shit himself on numerous occasions

he just likes to be silly in true medic fashion

here are some silly sketches about this headcanon

Scout pov:

How scout sleeps since medic started pulling these pranks

[lizaluvsthis]

Sparks in the air

This fanfic is dedicaded to @shygirl4991 and @alianarepasa for Mothers Day! Thank you for being our found family!

Summary- Smg4 receives an official invite from a group of famous content creators such as himself to work with them.

It's always been a dream for him yet he has to leave his home and friends forever. After careful consideration, he decided to pursue his dream and packed up his things.

His friends threw him a going away party, and he was sad to leave but what bothered him the most was that he hasn’t seen too much of his meme guardian partner lately since he announced he was leaving...

INSPIRED BY - The show “Friends”

References:

Notebook (from Spiderverse Part 1) -Liz

Holding hands episode -Aj

Written by @itsajanea and @lizaluvsthis

Illustrations by @lizaluvsthis

Gmods by @itsajanea

COMBINED IDEAS BY THE EGG N’ BEEG DUO

[AJ]

3rd Pov

“GUYS, GUYS LOOK WHAT I HAVE!” Smg4 yelled excitedly, running into the room, and waving what seemed to be a half-open letter. The crew looked at him with confusion but expected it was good based on his reaction.

“ I got an official invite to work with the best content creators!!” The blue meme guardian starts jumping up and down, waving the letter in the air.

The others were happy for him and celebrated with him.

Something slipped from the inside of the envelope and fell onto the floor, Meggy picked it up and stared at it before turning back to look at the happy Smg4.

“Ummmm Smg4, did you read the ENTIRE letter?” Meggy calls out to him, catching everyone else's attention as she waves a small plane ticket.

Smg4 looked back at the invitation in his hand and took out the letter from the envelope only to realize it was also talking about him moving away from his current residence

“Oh, it says that I will be going away for a long time…” What once was happy cheers turned into a sad moment of silence, until Mario shuffled up to him and gave him a big ol hug.

“Mario understands how much this means to you, and Mario is very happy.” He softly said, hugging the other tighter while he held back some tears. Smg4 hugged the red plumber back and soon everyone joined in the group hug, it was nice and comforting for the man.

All except for one, Smg3. He looked back at the group making sure no one noticed him hiding his tears before running off.

Smg4 Pov

It's been a couple of days since I got that invite… I should be finished packing by now, yet I don't want to move.

I’ve been lying here, staring at the ceiling for quite a while and I hear some noise outside.

They told me earlier that I should stay in here for a while so they’re probably throwing a party for me which is nice but… something feels wrong.

I sat up and looked at the boxes surrounding the room, I finally got up and walked around the place, reminiscing about the time I spent here.

I spotted a glimpse of a certain picture inside the box and I took it out. I smiled seeing the picture of me and the gang, we all looked so happy, I pulled out another picture from the box and it was of the two of us.

“Three…” I frown just thinking of him, I haven’t seen him in a while since I said to everyone that I accepted the offer.

And even when I DID see him, he’d just avoid me.

I bet he’s just mad that I got a good deal instead of him. I rolled my eyes and shoved the picture back into the box, walked away, and found myself looking back at the box.

Even though I'm a little mad at him… I’ll still miss him, like everyone else but I think I’ll miss him the most. But we know that I have to leave soon, so I better finish packing.

I grabbed an empty box and started packing some stuff in it, later on, I finished packing all my stuff so I took off my hat, lay on my bed and I stared at the wall to my right.

I waited for a while for the others to finish outside but I can’t help thinking about him. I turned to the left, looking at that space beside me and for some reason, I felt something was missing in that very spot.

I closed my eyes and drifted off into a deep slumber.

…

Suddenly I felt a gentle breeze, I opened my eyes and found myself sitting on the grassy plains, staring at a purple sky, It was a sight to see and reminded me of someone-

I looked around the beautiful plains and saw 3 in the distance, I got up and rushed over to him yet I had a weird feeling.

When I called out his name, he looked at me with an enraged look, clenching his fists and what shocked me more was when he spoke in a sarcastic tone.

“Congratulations Smg4, you got what you wanted, now you can go off with your new friends.”

He then started walking away, I tried catching up, pleading with him to understand what he meant. I thought he would understand.

I tried reaching my hand out to him

and then the next thing I knew… I woke up, realizing I was reaching for something that wasn’t there

I tried relaxing my mind because it didn’t matter, for now, maybe I’d see him later and we could talk if he would be here.

“Oh ES-EM-GEE-FOUR!” I hear Mario’s call, which means I can finally come out now. I fixed my hair, put on my hat, and was ready to get out.

When I stepped out, I noticed all the decorations and everyone I knew. They all yelled out in excitement and came rushing towards me. I was overjoyed, even though it may be the last, I'm glad to see everyone again.

While chatting with one of my old friends, I see Smg3 just standing there.

I excused myself and walked up to him til Mario just popped out of nowhere. I was stuck talking to him for a while and saw 3 leaving the party too soon. He looked at me with a cold stare before disappearing from my gaze.

What did I do wrong?

3rd Pov

It was after the party that Smg4 couldn’t sleep, that look 3 gave him shook him to his core. It made him angry for some reason. Why couldn’t he be happy for him just once, just because he was the one who got an amazing offer?

4 could’ve tried sleeping, his flight is in the morning but it bothered him too much to the point where he decided to go march over to 3’s place and give him a piece of his mind.

He took his hat and entered the shop, while riding down the elevator he thought of what to say and then

Ding

He got off the elevator and yelled out

“THREE! WHY THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN AVOIDING ME THIS PAST-”

Smg3 sat on his bed, hugging himself while he cried in anguish. Surrounded by a mess and Eggdog, who was trying his best to comfort his beloved father he still weeps.

4 felt devastated, he felt sick to his stomach seeing the other in this state. He had never seen 3 in such a terrible state like this before.

“Three…” He softly says, slowly approaching the other before 3 stared at the man intensely, his eyes were red and puffy, and he kept gasping for air and felt his body tremble.

“Get out.” 3 quietly answered, pausing to wipe his face on his shirt. “Now…”

“But I-”

“I SAID GET OUT, GET OUT NOW” he raised his voice and threw the nearest object he could find at 4.

4 was able to dodge it but he still had goosebumps. Before he could speak, 3 threw another object at him and kept throwing more and more objects while yelling at him

“GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!!!”

[Liz]

A moment without thinking, he threw the only thing that felt important to him…

His secret diary… his notebook… the one that he hides most often when he’s around with four or any other of the crew members.

“Three! Please stop- we can talk about this-” Four trying his best to cover his face with his arm on defense.

He was brought by surprise just the second he saw a notebook coming closer that was about to his face.

It was too late for him to dodge it, right after the split second he noticed that it was SMG3’s diary. The sharp corner hit his forehead and fell to the floor.

“OW!” SMG4 knocked himself back to the ground, with his eyes closed. His hat fell off to the floor, and the amount of pictures and notes flew out of the pages from three’s notebook.

Like how it exploded in the air.

The notes and pictures that scattered across the room, gave Three a quick moment of realization then his face turned pale. Feeling shocked after realizing what he had just done.

Seeing Four has a tiny scratch from the impact and the purple notebook he owns. Just right in front of him…

Three starts to panic after he gave himself a second to think, he f-cked up pretty badly…

“SHIT- SHIT- SHIT!” he hurriedly grabs the photos and the other notes lying on the ground, and Four rubs his forehead then finally opens his eyes to see papers falling.

As one of them falls and lands in Four’s hand, he slowly picks up the note to try and read what the handwriting says.

Three’s handwriting is oddly new to him since he’d never seen much of his writing before, looking a bit closer now. He reads a simple note of-

“Today, Four made me laugh. I honestly hated how soft I am to this baka but the joke was funny tho.”

Then to the bottom after the text, it shows a doodle of him and Three laughing together, just the two of them sitting on the bench.

“What…” he saw two marked pink colored hearts, one beside four and one beside three.

Three’s heart started pounding, this can’t be happening to him right now. But then again it was too late to stop him.

As Four carefully placed the note down with now seemingly widened eyes, his other hand moved to the other side reaching out for another picture.

It was a picture of him and Three back when they were both in their recolored designs. Back when Three seemed to like Four a little bit…

The picture is back on Christmas when Four insists on taking a selfie with him and Three while Mario is the one to use the camera. SMG3 felt a bit uncomfortable with the idea but Four still insisted.

Grabbing him around the shoulder, Three is seen blushing red in the camera while Four just smiles casually.

[AJ]

“You kept this….” 3 took the picture away from him, his face was red and he was extremely frustrated with 4.

[Liz]

“I…” Three wanted to respond but never dared to. SMG3 felt like his whole world tore apart right after a single thing he’d done. Now everything about his friendship with Four is destroyed.

Four tilted his head from side to side seeing all of the notes that were all mostly drawings of him and the pictures Three and him have been together or even without three and just him only marked with pink hearts all over.

“Three… you… you’ve been hiding all of this from me this whole time…?” Deep silence caused Four to get more upset. “Three… please…” “Stop.” The notes three were holding are now crushed right after clenching his fist.

“YOU WOULDN’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING AT ALL!” He slapped Four’s hand away after trying to reach him.

“Then just tell me-”

“FOR MEMES SAKE- WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS SO DENSE? I LIKE YOU IDIOT?!”

Three snapped out to Four as soon as he kept pushing Three to finally admit these feelings that he’d never given to him years from now.

Four, still lying down on the ground, looked up at Three to see the tired look on his face. His red cheeks were visible enough and had been caught in tears streaming down from his eyes.

He took a harsh breath and began to avoid his stare, he looked down to his side. “There…” he took every second to catch up on his words, taking deep breaths to regain his stamina.

“Now… you know…” his eyes kept watering, it made him want to wipe it off. He was still mad at him during this time, he just wished that Four would go away.

Yet the man refuses to leave him alone.

Smg4 Pov

“Why didn’t he tell me…?”

My thoughts wandered from his act, I had never seen him like this before.

But when he finally said that he had feelings for me… I didn’t know why it just stabbed my heart after hearing him this broken.

I spoke right to his front, trying to understand why he kept avoiding me.

"But why 3... if you felt this way, then why didn't you at least see me one last time?"

“Was it selfishness…? Was he jealous…? Did he hate it when I said I was leaving…?”

Three as soon as he wiped his tears, he turned to me and stared right into my eyes with hatred and pain.

"BECAUSE IT HURTS FOUR! It hurts so bad seeing you leave and I CAN’T DO SHIT ABOUT IT…"

…

Oh…

(shit… I fucked up pretty badly… didn’t I…)

As much as I want to follow the path I’ve always dreamed of achieving, I promised myself to never hold back. Never LOOK back. But just seeing Three like this I don’t think I could ever say no just by baring to look at his eyes.

“Three… you know we both have been friends right…?” I saw him backing away from me and avoiding my glances, He kept picking up other of the notes that were left on the floor as soon as I saw the notebook right in front of me, one of the pages seemingly read as “SMG4” which was my name, is written on the lines.

“Dear Diary, I wish that SMG4 would have stayed here. But there's nothing that I can do now, I guess no one ever stays the same once there is one important thing way ahead in people's lives.

He’s leaving too. I don’t want him to, there's so many things that he’s done here. And now that he just started to leave? What kind of idiot does that man think he is? It’s not fair.”

There was a space gap in the paragraph, the last sentence is crossed out of the line. I leaned in closer to read the final letters. “I wish I could tell him- about how I feel-” The notebook is shut closed in my face as Three snatched it away.

“You’re moving away from us today… Leave me be… I don’t want to discuss any of this anymore” Three puts the remaining notes back on the pages and puts them back in the drawer, shutting it loudly.

Third Pov

“You should leave… Before you might miss the airport” Four got up from the ground and picked up his hat, putting it back on his head. “Can we just talk this out?”

“You don’t want to know how heavy it is to me when you’re gone.

I’ve waited every OTHER MOMENT of our time to get together but NO!

You wanted what you wished to get and you already had your time here, you enjoyed the celebration, the party, your friends, Mario, and everyone who was all up to support your dream. But me?

I’ve already run out of time, thinking about what could happen between the two of us, when you’re not by my side…”

Four wanted to speak to him, he wanted to hug him tightly. If he had to choose between the options of either leaving or staying, he could never decide.

What will he ever listen to? His heart or his head? But he could never decide about this, not with the one he loved, his friend that he broke his attachment to just because of moving far long away.

Which one should he decide…? Even though it was his dream… his partner…

He had already decided that following his dream was the only choice for him to do so, yet he also had no choice since he accepted that letter.

“I’m sorry…” Four backed away and ran to the elevator, Three was left alone from the scene.

—--

Four had finally had his luggage packed and was hugged by Mario and then by every other of his crew members.

“Mario’s gonna miss you very much!”

“I agree with Red, things are never the same without you around and…” Meggy and Mario gave each other looks and went completely silent right after they gave a sad one.

“Guys, what’s the matter?” They both looked at him with sad eyes as Meggy spoke the second time.

“Three was barely seen around the party. It seems like me and Mario wondered that it’s worrying him that you’ll be gone…”

Mario pulled out a meme quote out of the random. “Mario smells GAY DRAMA from you” His mustache grew as he sniffed him.

Four couldn’t help but think about what happened back to his lair. Was it all true? Did he- as in SMG3 have this kind of romantic feeling for him?

He tried not to think much about it since he was running out of time.

He knew he had to go but there's just something wanting to let him stay there, someone… who in particular was Three.

“Oh, yeah right. Him…” He immediately felt bad about the words he said to him, he couldn’t ever forget about it, it felt like the words were stuck to his head.

“SMG4- did something happen with your boyfriend? Did you both fight or something?” SMG4 flinched after hearing Mario say the word.

He began to back away from his words defending himself “What? We’re not boyfriends! He and I just had a misunderstanding- "On what exactly?” Meggy grinned in curiosity.

[AJ]

A honk of the bus caught everyone off guard, They all knew this moment would come sooner or later and they all had to be strong for their friend.

The crew gathered for one last hug before Smg4 stepped onto the vehicle.

He sat down and looked outside the window, seeing everyone waving him goodbye while the bus began to move.

He had one last glimpse of them, the showgrounds and Three’s Coffee shop.

He only saw for a moment, but swore that he did see Three watching him leave before going back inside.

The man in blue felt blue once again, he put on his headphones and watched some memes to make him feel better but nothing helped…

Smg4 then closed his eyes for a little while, waiting for him to reach the airport.

—--

After he was cleared for inspection, Four got on the plane earlier than expected. He should feel excited, overjoyed, and thrilled even for this wonderful opportunity yet he still feels upset.

He felt tired, he took his hat off for a breather and ran his hand through his hair. Looking at the lights and looking back down at his hat, noticing a small folded-up note inside.

Smg4 opened it up, expecting it was a fun quirky letter left behind by his friends but instead he was greeted with an old photo he took with Smg3 not so long ago, before the whole YouTube thing.

He had convinced Three at the time to take a selfie with him, Four giving his usual goofy grin while Three who was looking at the other just smiled, with his face colored with a bright tint of red.

There was also an added note written in purple ink, “I just love him and his goofy ahh smile so much” dotted with hearts.

The whole world felt like it stopped for Four, he held the picture close to face and he now knew for sure that deep down in his heart.

“I love him”

Smg4 Pov

“I love him, I do love him!” After so long I finally understood, I always felt that we were just more than friends. GOD I’ve been such an idiot, It's been so obvious this whole time!

I just love him so… but if I do love him, What the heck am I doing?

I look around me to see the plane filled up, If I do love him what am I still doing here?

This whole YouTube thing can wait, I need to see him, I need to get off the plane.

I put back the picture and wore my hat, grabbed my bag, and was determined to go after him.

Jumped out of my seat and rushed down the aisle, I could feel the stares of people I passed by but It didn't matter.

“Sir, you need to go back to your seat.” The flight attendant lady stood in my way, denying me the exit that was right there.

“But Miss-” I replied “I need to get off, I need to do something”

“I'm sorry, but I cannot allow you to leave-” We felt the plane shake as it began to take off.

Oh no.

—-

3rd POV

After a long day of serving customers, 3 placed a sign on the front door saying “We’re Closed”, grabbed a broom, and cleaned up. He sighs, wondering what could have been. If he had told 4 sooner than later, Would they have been happy? Would they still have to come across this problem? But, It's too late anyway, 4 made up his mind and he has to deal with it.

Smg3 kept on sweeping and sweeping, then he heard somebody enter.

“Oi! Shops closed!” He didn’t bother facing the person, he wasn’t in the mood at all.

“3…”

He recognized that voice, it was impossible. He turned around to see if it was real.

“I got off the plane” It was Four, standing in front of him with a sincere smile.

[Liz]

Smg3 scanned the area where Four dropped his suitcase.

The suitcase tumbled to the ground with a dull thud, and it landed face down, the wheels clattering against the floor.

Three’s face contorted into a surprised expression, His partner darted forward, sprinting to embrace him and open his arms wide.

Four’s arms held tightly to SMG3’s waist, and he lifted him into the air, spinning him around quickly, with their faces beaming with joy.

SMG4 carefully lowered SMG3 back down to the floor, their reunion now complete.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been missing you for so long, you idiot…” Three said softly. They turned to look at Four, who was now facing them with a rage-filled expression.

He, however, was not so quick to forgive and forget, and he let go of SMG4’s arms. Turning around as he punched him in the face, with all of the anger and resentment he had pent up over the years. “Ow, that hurt-” “Well that’s what you get for leaving me!” Three said.

Four rubbed his cheek after the punch, his face hurting yet understanding why SMG3 reacted the way he did.

After all, he had left him without even saying goodbye, acting like a true jerk-face. “I guess I deserve that. I’m sorry I hurt you.” Four said trying to reach for his hand to mend their relationship.

Three backed his hand away from him, he couldn’t bring himself to meet Four’s gaze, avoiding eye contact with him. He started to speak, but stopped his sentence, realizing something. “You didn’t make it to the flight…?” He asked as if it had just clicked in his mind.

“I came back to tell you something…” Four replied. “To tell you how much I loved you…” He offered his hand once more, and this time, Three accepted his hand, their bodies finally close as they embraced each other.

Three’s voice rose in an upset tone as he asked, “But what about the invitation? The content creations?” Aren’t you supposed to be following your dream?”

Four gave him a soft and warm smile and replied “I decided to follow my heart, the path I want to choose. I chose you, and our other friends.” He hugged SMG3 tightly and said. “I’m sorry for leaving you…” his response surprised Three.

“So- you’re not leaving?” Three questioned with wide eyes, feeling so much relief that a smile spread across his face. Four shook his head in reply and said, “No, I’ll never leave you or anyone else. I promise.”

Three’s eyes welled up as all the emotions flooded his mind, he felt relieved and overcome with happiness.

SMG4 noticed this and quickly wiped the tears away from the man’s cheek, saying “Hey, you’re crying.”

Three gave him a laugh and replied, “I’m just glad that you came back…” He then gave the man in blue a kiss.

Four was taken aback by the sudden display of attention, he was not prepared for the display of affection that Three had recently given him just now.

Four’s eyes immediately closed as Three pulled him in for a kiss. The long, drawn-out kiss was now the end, and all that could be seen was two lovers locked in a passionate embrace.

-THE END-

[son-of-crows-and-rats]

I've rambled about this game before in tags and while I have a lot of complex thoughts on Curly as a character and what he should have done and how fandom responses and discussions have had good and bad takes (and it's all complicated and has layers which is a core point of the game!) one take I've never seen explicitly said for "Curly should have xyz" which I'm surprised to not see is "Curly should have asked Anya what she wanted". We don't know how much he would have listened or if her plan would make sense, but I think it says a lot about how the game's POVs (and some of the fandom) show Anya with little agency and someone who things happen to not someone who does things, and the men on board as the ones who make decisions and decide the course of the narrative for better or worse. I've seen people saying Anya should have been able to get angry and kill Jimmy, and people saying not all victims want violence and it's okay if she just wants to escape and move on. There's also arguments saying Curly should have reported Jimmy, shot him, put him in cryostasis, etc. and arguments saying Curly wasn't being malicious and that he was worried about things like their pay being docked, being locked with that conflict for months, not understanding the situation, etc. And it is complicated! But part of that male-centric view the game critiques (and fandom is against but accidentally perpetuates at times) is saying that it should have been Curly's choice at all. We don't know if Anya would have wanted to have shift scheduling and where she stayed and who spoke to Jimmy changed so he's kept away from her and to leave it at that. We don't know if she would have wanted to report him directly to the company's HR. We only see her when she's at her breaking point and even then her goal is to defend herself and prevent Jimmy from harming anyone. Anything past that is speculation. Obviously certain plans like a murder suicide or something like that would make sense for Curly to be against, but he never bothered to check. He said he would do anything, but didn't ask what that "anything" should be. Not all victims are the same, and not everybody has the same priorities. Part of getting rid of that male-centric toxic rape culture is letting women and victims have their own voices and decide their own paths, and framing the ideal situation as "the man in charge should have decided to protect the woman in xyz way because that's what she needed" instead of "the man in charge should have asked the woman what she needed and protected her that way" is still ultimately one man having control of everything. And we know from the game that doesn't work, even if he's a "good man that means well" and thinks he's inferring what's best. The only way to make sure victims get the support they need is to ask

[starryevermore]

the shelf life of those fantasies have expired ✧ cardan greenbriar

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: cardan greenbriar x fae!fem!reader

request: Cardan angst fic? 👀 - anon

summary: the goddess of timing once found them beguiling. she said she was trying. was she lying? his ribs get the feeling she did.

word count: 1,977

warnings?: angst city™, no happy ending, dual povs, mutual pining, miscommunication, not proofread

PART TWO | PART THREE

When she stood at his side, looked so…natural at his side, it was easy to find you comparing yourself to Jude Duarte. No one understood why Cardan made her his seneschal, not when they had seemed bitter enemies before the Blood Crown was perched atop his head. You didn’t understand, either. The most Cardan had confined in you was that Jude helped him get the crown. Everything else remained a mystery. You would pass gossiping fae, those who sought insight behind the High King’s actions, and not have a single clue what to say. You wished you could lie, if just to be able to say anything but cryptic excuses for why Cardan stopped confiding in you. 

Once, you thought you might be the one standing at his side. Not as High Queen, of course—no one had ever dreamed that Cardan would sit on the throne. But he had been one of the few you would dare to call a friend. Before the crown was perched atop his head, you would’ve said he called you the same. Perhaps not in front of his other friends, or anyone else for that matter, but you used to be certain you meant something to him.

You weren’t sure why you were still here. The longer you stayed, the more your heart clenched in your chest. If you remained for just a moment longer, it would give out on you. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jude bend down to whisper something to Cardan. You didn’t feel in control of your hand as it snatched a goblet of wine. It was heavy in your hand, but it managed to ground you. To give you a reason to not collapse where you stood. 

How had things changed so quickly? Just months ago, Cardan was sitting on your blanket during lessons, trying to see how many twigs he could stick in your hair before you would tell him to stop. You always tried to see how long it would take before he got bored of it. When did you become the one he grew bored of? 

“Dance with me.”

You lifted the goblet up, your head tilting back, finishing your wine in a single go. You set it down on a table and stalked away. Cardan followed after you. You spared a glance at the throne, where Jude still stood. Exasperation was clear on her face. Whether it was directed at you or Cardan, you couldn’t say for certain. You knew enough of her skill with a sword, though, to stay away from her bad side. 

“I am tired,” you said. 

Cardan’s hand caught your wrist. Jaw clenching and unclenching, you were forced to remain at the ridiculous party. You should’ve stopped coming to them months ago, but these events were the only opportunity to catch a glimpse at your friend-turned-king. 

“One dance,” he insisted. 

“I would prefer to leave.”

His hand slipped to your wrist. Fingers intertwined. When you tried to pull away again, his grip tightened. Your eyes lifted to meet his. If you shut them, you could imagine all of your dreams were coming true. “I would prefer you in my arms.”

“You’re drunk.”

Cardan’s grip slackened enough for you to wrench your hand free again. “Would you deny your king?”

The nonanswer was answer enough. Fae cannot lie. Cardan cannot deny his inebriation. He cannot deny that the one reason he would talk to you now was because his senses were dulled. Cardan Greenbriar does not consider you a friend any longer, so why would he ever seek you out sober? You wished you were drunk, too. It would hurt less. 

“Would my king force my hand?”

His tongue darted out, wetting his lips. The same lips a laugh fell from. You took a step back. He stepped toward you. “One dance,” he repeated. 

By now, an audience had formed. You cared little for fae gossip, but if you tried to leave now, it would be impossible to escape those who wanted to know why you would deny the king. You held your hand out and let him take it. You ignored the way your heart stuttered as his thumb ran over your knuckles. 

“One dance.”

The smile Cardan flashed you was enough to make your knees weak. For that, at least, you were grateful to lean against him as you danced. It was easy, then, to lose yourself to the music, to pretend that things were how they used to me. When Cardan was your friend, when you told each other everything. If you lost yourself enough, you could imagine a crown perched atop your head. Jude could still stand at Cardan’s side. She was a damned good seneschal. But you would be the one sitting on his other side. 

Cardan spun you around the floor, a smile on his face. You pretended it was because he was happy to have you in his arms. “I only ever see you at these parties,” he said. 

“To be a king is to have a busy life,” you said. 

“I would make time for you.”

He would, but he hasn’t. Was he waiting for an invitation? Cardan never used to before. There were countless times you would awake to find him waiting for you at the foot of your bed. He never liked having to wait for you to ask for his attention. There was a time he freely gave it. Had the Blood Crown changed who he was? Did it force him to realize he could do better than you? 

The song faded into another, and you slipped out of Cardan’s arms. His hands still chased after you, but you artfully dodged them. A lump formed in your throat that you were quick to swallow. Months ago, you would have dreamed about a moment like this. Now, it felt like Cardan was using as a placeholder. As a symbol for someone he would prefer to dance but would never give him the time of day. 

You looked at the throne again. Jude watched Cardan. Her face was unreadable. It was no secret that fae looked down upon humans. You never fancied yourself that sort of person. Certainly not when it came to Jude Duarte. It took a special sort of person, fae or not, to capture the interest of a prince. If there was anyone who deserved it, it was her. If she was the one that Cardan wanted at his side, you would not stand in the way. 

“It was nice to see you again,” you said, because you knew you would not see him after tonight.

“Have breakfast with me tomorrow. I’ll have the cooks make your favorites.”

You could not tell a lie, so you only offered a smile. “Sleep well, Cardan.”

Before he could say anything more, say anything that might delude you into staying, you turned and left. Not a single person stopped you along the way. Not a single one cared whether you stayed or left—least of all the one person you wished to beg for you. 

By the time the sun rose again, you had left Elfhame.

Cardan Greenbriar drummed his fingers against the wood table. He had invited you to breakfast, hadn’t he? Wracking his still wine-addled brain, he tried to recall the conversation with you. Yes, he certainly said breakfast. Or had it been lunch? Cardan spared a glance out the window. The sun was nearly at its peak. Had he asked you to breakfast or lunch? Had he asked you anything at all? 

At the sound of footsteps entering the room, Cardan jumped to his feet. When it turned out to only be Jude, he flopped back into his seat. He propped his elbow on the table, pressed his cheek into his fist. 

“I didn’t realize my presence was so disappointing,” Jude said. Her eyes swept across the table, at the two place settings and the untouched food. The one thing that had moved was Cardan’s goblet, which had been refilled minutes earlier. “She didn’t come.”

Cardan gestured at the empty seat across from him. 

“Are you certain you asked her?” 

He nodded.

“And she said yes?”

Cardan began to say an exasperated yes, that he wasn’t an idiot, but as he replayed the events from the night before, he wasn’t so sure. “I asked her to breakfast,” he said, because he was certain of that. Jude arched a brow. “…and she told me to sleep well.”

Jude ran a hand over her face. “I knew you were hopeless, but I didn’t imagine you were a lost cause. Really, how did you manage to be with anyone?”

“I was a prince. They just fell into my lap.”

“Sometimes I wish you weren’t fae, because then I could believe that was a lie,” Jude said. She looked over at the empty seat. The seat that should have been filled by you. “I’m going to send the Ghost to see where she is. Perhaps she was too drunk last night to remember you invited her, or maybe her days are mixed up.”

Cardan frowned at the untouched food. “Maybe she realized she could do better than me.”

Jude reached for his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Cardan lifted his cheek from his fist and pressed it against her hand. If he shut his eyes, he could pretend it was you offering him comfort. “Whatever her reason, we’ll bring her here. We’ll figure things out.”

“I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her,” Cardan admitted. 

“We won’t let it come to that. I won’t let it come to that.”

An hour later, the Ghost returned. The words still echoed in his head. She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s gone. He had gone to your home and found it empty. Everything important to you had been packed and taken away. The Ghost lied to him, of course. Well, perhaps it wasn’t a lie, since the Ghost didn’t know its importance. But you left one thing behind. 

Cardan stood in your bedroom, staring at your vanity. It had been cleared of your favorite jewelry and other pretty things you adorned yourself with. It was empty, except for the ring that lay on its marble top.

Jude once told him, when he admitted your feelings for you, about how some humans would gift their beloved a ring as promise of their love. One ring as a promise of monogamy, another as a promise of marriage, and a final ring as a promise of eternal love. Cardan had taken great care in selecting a ring for you, bearing in mind your affinity toward certain metals and specific cuts of stone. He thought it was perfect. When he presented it to you, after he had been crowned High King, he told you he picked it especially for you. You smiled and slipped it on your finger, said it was perfect.

If it was so perfect, why did you leave it behind to collect dust? 

Cardan picked up the ring. A part of him wanted to fling it across the room. If you were rejecting his love, then that was the least the ring deserved. He wanted the stone to shatter and the metal to warp. He wanted to reduce it to dust. He offered you his love, and you left it, and him, behind. But Cardan couldn’t find it in him to throw you away. 

He slipped the ring onto his littlest finger. He was going to find you. He was going to find you, and drag you back to Elfhame and put that ring back on your finger where it belonged. You might have left him behind, but he wouldn’t let you stay away. 

By the time the sun set, he had given orders to bring you home. 

PART TWO | PART THREE

[boozenboze]

141 and male reader who is angry and when he’s angry, he goes in the gym area they have and just punches the punching bad with bare fists for hours on end and basically breaks the punching bags but keeps putting new ones up. his fists are bloody and bruised and everyone is looking for him and they can’t find him so they search everywhere and find him with blood running down his hands from the countless hours of punching and they have to practically drag him out of the gym and they make him lay down which he wont go down without a fight but YA

SORRY ITS LONG💗😭

Calm Down!

Summary: After a certain soldiers constant slip ups and slacking off Lieutenant Rage gets angry.

Females She/Her and She/ They DNI

Today hadn't gone so well, in fact it went terribly. For starters two of the new recruits lost the files that the team had been sent to retrieve. Secondly, one of the same men had flunked out during training, only to later be seen running about with some of the other soldiers. And the cup of tea to pull everything together he did something he shouldn't have. That thing being talking about one of the higher ups, Lieutenant Rage, also known as M/n. The h/c haired male had his eyes on the recruit since the beginning, knowing that he'd be trouble from the start. The childish acts, the constant slacking off, and always holding everybody back by getting injured. It was clear as day that the man shouldn't be in the military for those exact reasons. The mans carelessness for himself and others would get them all killed.

"Captain do you not understand what i'm saying?" The h/c haired male asked as Price hummed, showing that he was paying attention to the males words as he filled out some papers.

"Rage look, I understand your concern but I haven't seen anything wrong with the seargent." Price explained as M/n glared into his skull.

"Besides maybe your overreacting-"

"I AM NOT OVERREACTING!" The male finally snapped as that cold glint in his eyes that would normally only be seen on the field was now visible. Price flinched at the males change of tone, it was hot yet scary.

"That bastard could get us all killed at some point and your sitting on yer ass like that's ok. THAT IS NOT OKAY!" The male yelled as Price shook slightly from the males booming voice. He was the males Captain, he shouldn't be getting yelled at like this. With one final huff of anger the male stormed out as Price sat in his chair stunned.

The h/c haired male stormed down the hallway, knocking a solider down in the process.

"Hey! Whats your problem....." The soldiers voice dragged as he realized it was his Lieutenant. "I-i'm sorry sir!" The soldier squeaked as he ran down the hallway. M/n was already breathing heavily out of anger, and that anger seemed to double after that small accident. He had to let off some steam at this point. If he was pushed any further he'd end up killing someone. The man was speeding over to the training area that he knew would be empty considering that it was around the time the soldiers would go to their barracks. The h/c haired male couldn't do that, his adrenaline was high and that would only keep him awake longer. He just hoped that he could blow off some steam before going to bed.

Timskip (Gaz pov)

I just came from Prices office and he seemed to be deep in thought. I asked if everything was oky but he said no. He told me about the conversation he had with M/n and from how he explained it, it seemed like he was pissed off. M/n was always the most aggressive out of us all, hell he'd probably yank a mans head off if he could.

We were all walking around the base looking for our beligerant soldier known as M/n. The man could do the unthinkable when he's angry so we hope he isn't doing anything crazy.

"We've checked everywhere for the man it's clear he isn't here!" Soap complained, getting tired of feeling like he had been walking circles. I looked at the man before turning my attention to Ghost. Seemed like he didn't wanna be here either, but he had no choice. We passed the training area and heard a loud slam which caught our attention. Price gave us a look before opening the door. I was surprised to see M/n standing over a punching bag, i'm guessing he broke it considering that the chain that the bag was connected to wasn't there anymore. The man was out of breath as he picked up the punching bag and throwing it to the side.

Ghost had walked over and put his arms under the shorter males arms. The man immediately threw a fit, he was kicking and yelling incoherantly and the men were only able to hear snippets of his words.

"Get the fuck off me-BITCH!" The male yelled as he whipped his head back hitting Ghosts mask. Ghost grunted from the sudden pressure being put on his face as he crouch down to the floor with the male still in his hold. The taller man had the h/c haired male pinned to the ground as the position they were in restricted his movements.

3rd pov

"M/n calm down, we can stay like this for as long as we have to, to make your relax." Price said as M/n huffed angrily. Slowly but surely the mans breathing steadied, despite that he still wasn't calm. Gaz had held the mans hand and furrowed his brows at the sight of the males bleeding knuckles. Ghost had already noticed the mans hands, so he picked him up and walked to the infirmary.

Timeskip

Ghost was seated on the couch next to Ghost, who was currently sipping on some tea as the h/c haired male groaned in annoyance. The slurping sounds aggravated him but he couldn’t since Ghost had him wrapped up in a blanket. He looked like a burrito, a angry one at that. The lieutenant looked at him for a moment before offering the male a biscuit, to which he took. He may be angry, but when snacks are offered there can’t be much of an argument. The male muttered a “thank you” while chewing the savory treat. In that moment Soap and the others came into the room in their pajamas. The Scot almost laughed when he saw the position the private had been put in.

“Well ain’t this nice to see.” Soap said while ruffling the males hair to which the male attempted to bite his hand. Soap laughed and poked the males side before sitting down.

“L/n...look, I thought about what you had said and your right.” Price said as M/n looked him dead in the eye.

“We’ll be terminating him tomorrow, he won’t be bothering anyone else.” Price explains as M/n visibly relaxed. Seems like the removal of that one recruit made a big difference in the males mood which made them all happy.

“Alright...Lets watch a movie since we’re still up!” Gaz said happily while the other men hummed in agreement as M/n squirmed under the blanket.

“If one of you dont get me out this hot ass blanket we’re having problems.” M/n said as Soap hurriedly tool the blanket from around the male. The sound of the movie could be heard as all the men sat back and relaxed. M/n had his head on Ghosts shoulder while Soap had his head on M/n’s. Seems like they would be having a peaceful night.

[currentfandomkick]

Prompt:

Desiree overhears bruce wish for a do-over with his robins.

Said robins end up aged down and only with those memories of when they first were acknowledged as Robin by Bruce. Anything after? Gone.

Now Dick is 8 ready to destroy these people stealing his mom’s nickname for him. Yes he is deranged and feral. Yes he is assaulting Damian the most, as the kid also attacks him. He’s also certain Damian is mew to the states too and annoyed he cant understand the kid.

Jason is 12 and dealing with a Lot of homeless kid truama and whiplash of rich place and who are these other kids and why is the tiniest one trying to kill the second tiniest? Stop that! (Jason, the most responsible somehow) Damian listens to him best without the use of orders. (Only way to get Damian to listen otherwise) and is working on teaching Damian about how the states and Gotham work. Jason is the Great Culture Teacher, and hoarding food stashes and go bags everywhere. Just in case. Yes he has some for everyone and is only a little upset his peer Tim vanished before he could give him his.

Tim is 12 too, realized Batman had Jason Right There and fucked off back home to see what happened timeline wise. He decided to visit his apparent step-mom, Dana, and gets to meet his apparent(?) boyfriends (deal’s choice, just have there be two for Tim’s confusion as ‘i pulled not one but two hot boys? How?) reasons. Tim is Learning what he did in the last 6 years and is questioning how his older self stopped with a semi-regular sleep schedule and.. had no spleen? Dana, can we get that checked for me that mine’s still there and if i keep it? Yay. Oh, this should last a few months? Okay! He can work from home online and have Lucius handle the meetings—why was he made a teen CEO again?

Stephanie? Is the oldest at 15, and is baffled by the whole situation. She goes to see Oracle and handles patrols under Babs’ eye with a confused Cass. Yes Stephanie is mad at Tim and believes he was cheating on her at this time, but knows the Tim she saw was smaller. And this is in the future from her POV. She’s still mad. Also the least likely to cause problems on patrol atm as she’s already trained and threatened to break out Spoiler if he tries to stop her. Her favorites and Damian (he gets killing should be an option, but needs to work on his selection process) and Jason, who Gets being a poor kid. Dick stops attacking her on sight but is a savage and insults her form. He ranks below Tim due to proximity, and the fact this is a Tim before they dated.

Damian? Back maybe 2 years, to the mindset of ‘if i dont kill my predecessor, i am unworthy of my role by Father’s side.’ Problem: he and Dick are fighting (both initiate) and Alfred and Jason (when did his zombie guard get so small?) are the only ones able to separate them successfully. He is not allowed on Patrol, but Brown is as she’s able to run solo otherwise and Father has recruited her using Robin. Father has explicitly forbade attacking her in the manor, cave or otherwise on property, and forbid killing. Brown is the only one besides him questioning this, even if it’s mostly over comms… and he is absolutely working on learning magic to undo this spell and return to his rightful place damnit!

Bruce has Many Regrets about that wish. And hates magic

Meanwhile Danny is trying to work out which wishes of Desiree’s are safe to undo, as apparently her last spree included taking out Joker, who was well overdue for that, and helping a lot of families reunite. He’s not undoing that. But also she did help gorilla grodd take over a city. He. He’s gonna need help, isn’t he?