#geeks: weirdos on the case

[idleminds]

[thattimdrakeguy]

Hey,

So if it's not too much to ask, can you give me a summary on the Core Four's personalities? I really wanna know for analysis reasons, I'm re reading all the core 4 young justice and teen titans books and trying to decipher my favorite one.

I can give you the personalities as intended by their creators no problem, Person Newtonote.

Now as you read you might think "Oh, hmm, that doesn't add up with what I've read" when it gets into the Young Justice and Teen Titans books, but that's 'cause different writers write different things, and some writers understand some characters better than others, and some of it is just plain character development, or in worse case writers doing what ever they please 'cause they don't care.

I'll let you judge when what happens.

Onto what you've asked though, I'll try to keep it simple as I can while still being detailed:

Tim Drake:

My personal favorite, that much is likely obvious.

As intended, he is an idealistic young boy, and dreamed of Robin as an even littler boy (he's pretty small for his age). He's clever, and resourceful, and thinks very very highly of the legacy of Robin. It's his heart though that got him his job as Robin, and his compassion and genuine passion for the role of Robin. And he displays what many may call boy scout tendencies. Even admitting to original Robin Dick Grayson that he enjoys helping old lady's cross the road (or something like that.)

Being raised in private schools, without a lot of friends (He's shown having no friends until he goes to public school to my knowledge), he's a pretty naive and oblivious, trusting person. And it's through out his journey's he has to learn how dark Gotham City can get. Though compared to the other Bat-Family members of this era (90s) he's very much the heart and light-hearted youthful energy to it.

His social ability is mostly perfectly fine, he's no complete weirdo. Kid can get friends easy peasy. Easily likable to folks. Endearing. But he has an oblivious side, and can get ahead of himself. Has a habit of getting spiritually adopted by people who instantly want to protect him. Anyone from Batman, to former CIA agents, and even villains. He's just got that babyface on him, and button nose.

He also deals with anxiety in terms of being Robin, being worried that he may be stripped of the job, or let people down, or mess something up. And sometimes that lends him having a lot of insecurities about himself. While having some prior training in martial artists, and implications of having taken gymnastics, also a former boy scout, he still doesn't naturally take to the role like all other Robins around him. Which means he has to try a lot harder to have his keep.

In the Bat-Family in this era (the 90s) he's the heart, and baby to everyone. They're uber protective of him, and take him out of the action when they deem it to be too much for someone like Tim. Within Young Justice he puts on a heavy Robin persona to hide what he's really like. Making himself out to be a more Batman-esque mysterious leader.

When really, he's a dorky, fanboy, who loves Kaijus, Crocky the ??? Crocodile I guess (Basically Barney the Dinosaur), super heroes, cars, Warlocks and Warriors (Dungeons and Dragons), sports, comics, Sci-Fi, fantasy, and cartoons. Self-admitted geek, with some popular interests in there.

Think of Tim as sort of Autistic kind of. He's never officially said to be. But when you read his origin, it's definitely a legitimate way to interpret him. Though I believe his uniqueness is intended to really be molded by Tim's passion, and obliviousness from a lack of parental figures in his very young life.

Tim is supposed to be an optimist, as told by his creator, but to be real a lot of writers seem to forget that, even when making jokes about how he's optimistic compared to others. I think sometimes the writer's own cynism leaks out into him. So remember that...despite a lot of writers forgetting it. Be better than them.

Cassie Sandsmark:

My personal second favorite member, but, please, make up your own mind here.

She's a rebellious teenage girl, and tomboy. She stays up pass curfew to party, but is at heart a good hearted individual who truly wants to help. This comes at odds with her stubborness and headfirst attitude. She hates being treated as a kid. And shows a great deal of intuition and cleverness. She's also a babysitter. Seemingly a good one too.

Her need to prove herself can put itself ahead of her own logic though. And she buts head with her very stuffy mother who doesn't appreciate Cassie's care-free nature. She means a lot to Cassie, and Cassie wants her approval. Cassie's natural being is...very much in contrast to what her mother would prefer though. It's fun.

A lot like Tim she's also shown to be a Super Hero fanboy. For her it's specifically Wonder Woman and the Flash, while with Tim it's basically anyone the writer decides he hasn't met offscreen yet.

Through her journey's she learns to contain herself though, and better use her powers.

Bart Allen:

The most teenager-y teenager you ever seen. He has ADHD, but not the uber-hyperactive, talkative, hugger you see in some more modern misunderstandings of him.

Originally he was pretty quiet. Super popular in his school. Girls loved him and considered him a pretty boy. But in reality he has no social knowledge, because he was raised in basically a video game for two years. He's essentially an alien learning to fit in with human civilization. So he's incredibly reckless without intention. It takes him awhile to truly process the concept of death and related repercussions. So he's sort of dangerous.

He can be quite surly, and mean spirited on occasion. But like most heroes, he has a good heart that comes out in the end. It's just simply the 90s and being Anti-Authority is the norm. His name is Bart after all. Underneath that is a young man who does sweet things when he has it in him.

Just don't think of him like a baby like how a lot of people make him out to be. He's a teen's teen.

Original Bart, like original Tim, and original Cassie, to me, is the best version of the character. The most nuanced, and interesting.

Oh, and minor violent streak on Bart too. Started a fight before, and stuff like that.

He cares inside. That has to count for something right?

Kon-El:

Hot-Headed pervert. Over-confident. Fame hungry. Lady magnet. Stubborn. Head first. Sort of a prick. But again good hearted.

I haven't read him as much as the others, because I don't personally care for him. Then in the early 00s with Teen Titans they decided just to make him an angsty young Clark, which is personally boring.

I don't have a lot of great things to say about him. His solo is very dated, and overtly sexual. Something I have no interest in reading.

He's at his best in Young Justice though, where he isn't written as jail bait by a writer who thought it'd be great if he dated grown women to fulfill teenage boys dreams. Instead you get to have fun with a very flawed character without the distracting perversion...mostly.

Punk styled. Loves dressing like a punk. Until he doesn't. Ruh-roh.

--

Again though, different writers write different things. They catch onto different things more than others, some are plain neglectful, others don't care, some want to change stuff for the sake of it. It's comics, you'll be lucky if it's consistent.

But on my years of studies, all that is what the character's where intended to be by their creators. So a lot of it is a starting pad, but it's also the purest form of them you're going to find.

[monsterfloofs]

I still sort of remember the turning point in my love of aliens / monsters. I was a chubby little kid with glasses and between being bullied at school for being a weirdo, and the rough family life. I didn't feel like I fit in anywhere. When the fights would happen at home I would go stand outside on our back porch, and look up at the stars.

I remember I used to wish the aliens would come pick me up, and take me away. (I was a huge extraterrestrial geek at the time and studied ufo cases) I would stand outside at night and wish for that as hard as I could. I used to also think that since I was seen as such a misfit here on Earth, I would fit right in with the aliens.

Haha, a funny reminscent thought of my childhood, and bittersweet.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Y'know.......I think the reason i've said Hobie behaves like a normal teenager even though that is Very Much Not The Case is that i was never a normal teenager myself and i remember my high school years vididly,where i was so much like Hobie-Only way more anti-social but including being black.All the way back to middle school,i'd mouth off to my teachers and physically fight my bullies and eventually that extended to standing up for other kids and i had no clue how to communicate with them because of how different i was from them with the ONE exception being this duo of boys who i'd geek out over anime and video games and mary sue ocs and shit over and i straight up started skipping classes because i was sick of everybody's shit and how hard the material was getting even though i 'used to be a genius and still had it in me' and only vaguely felt upset when i almost flunked high school for it and i'd listen to punk music and read horror and my favorite kinds of stories were always about how much authority sucks and that kids always know better and desperately wished my family would let me dress alt and do gender fuckery.And as it turns out,all that was because of my undiagnosed autism but i never questioned any of it because i thought i was the normal one and that everyone else were the weirdos

Hobie's not a normal teenager.He's a black,traumatized and autistic one

[coffeebean-transmasc-experience]

𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗:

Hey there and welcome to the amab/coffee bean transmasc blog! This is a safe place for transmasc people with atypical experiences to share their stories and thoughts, or just hang out.

𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚘���:

This blog is completely supportive of the "contradictory" and "controversial" labels, afab transfems, amab transmascs, lesboys, gaybians, cistrans, etc., as long as the labels are used in good faith.

All the geeks, freaks, and weirdos are welcome here too! :D /pos /gen Alterhumans, nonhumans, furries, punks, neurodivergents, disabled, neopronoun users, xenogender, plurals/systems, and anyone and anything inbetween. If you'd ever like me to use tone tags when answering an ask, just let me know in the ask, and I'll do my best to.

Every kind of transmasc is welcome here! And even if you're not coffee bean transmasc or you're questioning, you're still welcome here.

I'm Geo, and I use it/its pronouns, in case you need to know for whatever reason. (Currently questioning if I'm coffee bean transmasc.)

If you have any questions or just things to say about your experiences, feel free to drop them in the ask box.

This blog is inspired by @our-honeybee-transfem-experience, as well as some similar blogs.

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜, 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘:

Just a heads up, I tag the ever loving shit out of my posts and reblogs. I just want things to be organized, easy to find, and put out to the right communities, and I hope tagging things thoroughly just makes things overall easier for you guys.

While I'm on the topic of tags, if you have any of the basic questions about amab transmascs like what they are or why an amab individual may identify as transmasc, then search the tag "#what it means to be amab transmasc" in the little search bar on this blog, and it'll take you to the info post all about it.

For organization and practicality's sake, I won't answer any asks that ask me those questions, since I already spent a lot of time writing out the answers in that post, and it's just unnecessary to keep answering the same thing over and over.

Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

[cheshires-wonderland]

Heyo!

The name’s Tye Cheshire, it’s a pleasure to meet ya!

My pronouns are he/they

Yes I’m a furry, deal with it

I’m 18 so this blog will not be entirely sfw, and definitely not pg

Arospike homosexual in a polyamorous QPR with a several cis and a trans man, amatonormativity can fuck off

This blog is going to have a lot of mental health stuff on it

This blog is chaotic because I like a lot of things and am in a lot of fandoms

THIS BLOG IS A SAFE PLACE FOR: people with npd, adhd, autism, anxiety and depression, as well as aro, ace, gay, genderqueer, and all other members of the LGBTQIA+ community, people of color, furries, therians, nerds, dorks, geeks, weirdos, raccoons, dragons, toasters, that one patch of carpet, bookworms, architects, pigeon lovers, memers, cartoonists, and most other people unless you are abusive or a piece of shit in which case, fuck off.

In short, this is a safe blog for all those who feel lost, or alone, or like they aren’t where they’re meant to be. For those seen as crazy. Or psychopathic. Or sadistic.

This blog is a safe place for the lost ones, the ones stuck in the forests of this wonderland called life, and I am here, not as a guide, but as a moment of calm in all this chaos.

This blog also will have NPD and DID/system stuff on it as well. Im a pwNPD, and I’m in a relationship with a pwDID so while I may not have it myself, I do know stuff about it.

Fursona ref under the cut because this is long enough as is

I still wanna commission an official ref sheet but this’ll do for now

[livvyofthelake]

i don’t want to sound like a cunt but i mean how much of a fucking loser weirdo do you have to be to feel a need to get online and explain that the sabrina carpenter song “juno” is a reference to the MOVIE juno about a pregnant teen and NOT a reference to the roman goddess juno. just in case people missed that. be so for real you’d have to be beyond geek loser status to think that her saying “might let you make me juno” was a mythology reference. girl who are you talking to

[greenishghostey]

A Tuesday in '83

Author's Note: Saw this post, got sad, had a brainstorm with myself while doing a face mask, and now here we are. This is super dialogue heavy but I felt that was the best way to approach this idea!

So, here's 17-year-old Eddie helping with the search for Will Byers and helping cheer Jonathan up, at least a little bit.

Word count: 3,120

///

The news of little Will Byers vanishing into the aether of Hawkins spread like wildfire around the town. Storefronts were covered in missing posters, with the kid’s cheery little smile beaming away. Everyone around Hawkins High School spoke in hushed tones and stole unsavoury glances towards Jonathan Byers. 

Eddie didn’t do this, though. Eddie was far too used to dirty looks and pointing from other students. He was the town’s punching bag - the weirdo who lived in the trailer park and worshipped the devil. The brother of a missing kid didn’t deserve the same treatment he got. Even if said brother listened to The Talking Heads, that was something Eddie had to judge at least a little. 

Eddie had made a point of “freaking out” anyone he caught being less than civil towards Jonathan. The two boys weren’t friends, they’d never spoken, but they were both dubbed weirdos in the eyes of the student body. 

Since middle school, Eddie knew that he was a caring person. He was too aware of the sour attention that clung to him. It was a lonely experience for him when he was a little kid, so he found ways to make it better. Gathering up his fellow freaks, geeks and weirdos had become his life’s calling. It didn’t just stop with Hellfire Club - Eddie could take every figurative and literal punch and kick from the town when others couldn’t. Therefore, he took his “freak” and dialled it up to eleven. 

Being dramatic was one of Eddie’s favourite hobbies. He had increased the frequency of his cafeteria table speeches and taken to drumming on locker doors super close to the many whispering groups. His toothy manic grin worked a treat at drawing attention away from Jonathan. A lot of people despised his smile - but it was okay; it was all part of his show. 

-

It was a dull Tuesday lunch period, and students were mulling around in the hallways. Chattering, giggling, and the squeak of speakers surrounded Eddie as he organised the small pile of dealing notes in his locker. He would have appreciated it if the notes were a little more polite than just having a name and a time messily scribbled. Wasn’t his humble drug service worth a “hi” or a fun doodle?

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie noticed the sandy, messy hair of Jonathan Byers. He had prominent dark circles under his eyes and appeared to be wasting away under his denim jacket. Poor dude already had a rough time in high school. That Harrington guy and his minions took a little too much pleasure in messing with him. 

Jonathan hauled a fresh stack of missing posters out of his bag, along with a small box of pins and tape. “Have you seen me?” Those words stared at Eddie from the bulletin board near his locker. He’d seen the description of Will Byers everywhere, making sure to read each missing poster he saw in case new information was added. 

“Hey, Byers?” Eddie voiced, shutting his locker quietly. “How many of those posters you got?” 

Jonathan jumped at Eddie’s voice, flinching away slightly. Eddie couldn’t blame him. It was a standard reaction to the town’s pariah’s presence. 

“Uh, my mom gave me thirty,” Jonathan mumbled, avoiding eye contact. Eddie had an intimidating gaze; he was almost too aware that his eyes were huge - Wayne always told him he needed to remember to blink more.

“Need help putting that many up?” Eddie asked, raising an eyebrow at the bulletin board. “Not really feeling the mental strain of History next period. So I got time.” 

Jonathan’s stare was trained on Eddie’s beat-up sneakers. He was in shock, quite frankly. Why would Eddie Munson offer to help him? Hell, why was he offering to help full-stop? 

“Um, no, it’s fine. Really.” 

“No worries, man. I get it. Oh, but I meant to ask, though, are you guys doing a search tonight?” Eddie spoke as softly as he could. It was an almost jarring surprise for Jonathan - truth be told, he found Eddie sort of scary. “I know the woods like the back of my hand, so I wanna help out.” 

The two boys finally made eye contact, and Eddie’s pure intentions were made clear. He wasn’t looking at Jonathan in jest or with pity. He looked hopeful. Jonathan hadn’t seen a lot of hope since Will disappeared. 

“It’s just a citizen search tonight. But - but the help would be great.” The younger boy’s voice faltered ever so slightly, his hands' grip on the posters loosening. “You know much about the woods around Lover's Lake?” 

“Know it? That’s my stompin’ grounds.” Eddie laughed. “Dude, I’ll be such a big help. My uncle’s got this huge camping torch too. He won’t mind me swiping it for a few nights.”

“A few- you’re gonna help more than once? Why?” Jonathan pressed. He couldn’t really believe the conversation he was having. Eddie didn’t care about anything or anybody, so why would he help look for Will? Jonathan prided himself on never judging people too harshly or without good reason. But maybe he had messed up when it came to Eddie. Listening to the hums and haws of Hawkins never was the best idea. 

“Your little brother’s missing, Byers. He’s a kid. Course I’m gonna help,” Eddie gestured for Jonathan to come closer. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m not actually a vessel of the damned.” He tried not to sigh when regurgitating one of the lines that the god squad of Hawkins liked to throw his way. Jonathan was still hesitant towards Eddie’s casual demeanour, rightfully so since they knew nothing about each other. But that hope was still present in Eddie’s eyes - it was optimistic, and lord knows, did the Byers family need some positivity in their lives right now.

Jonathan turned to fully look at Eddie - taking in his heavy leather jacket, his t-shirt that had some kind of shrunken-skinned zombie on it, and his long shaggy hair. The people of Hawkins tended to act like the metalhead was the second coming of Charles Manson - Manson was even a taunt he got fairly regularly - but Jonathan was beginning to see past that illusion. It only took a peak behind the mask to see that Eddie was a good guy. He really wanted to help out with the search for Will. Sheriff Hopper was going to flip his shit. 

“We all meet at my house at eight. We have to have a register since Sheriff Hopper’s got to be there, but he won’t bother you.” Jonathan explained, noting Eddie’s alarmed expression at the mention of the cops. “He’s sorta scared of my mom right now. I promise he won’t say anything to you.”

“Thank christ. At least it’s him. He caught me setting off fireworks behind the trailer park last fourth of July but just yelled at me and marched me home. He said he liked my t-shirt, though. Weird guy.” The little anecdote made Jonathan laugh, it wasn’t more than a breath, but he laughed. It had been the first time in a long time. However, the image of Eddie being hounded and dragged back home by Hopper was too funny to let slide. 

Jonathan gave Eddie the rest of the information about the search party - the Byers’ address, supplies that would be helpful to bring, and another reassurance that the police and other residents wouldn’t make any comments about him. 

Before the two parted ways in the emptying hallway, Eddie swiped a few missing posters from Jonathan’s loosened grasp. “I’m gonna steal some tape from Miss O’Donnell and get these up ASAP. See ya later, Byers!” Eddie took off around the corner in a flash. He was heading in the direction of his history class; he wasn’t going to stay in there for more than five minutes. 

Jonathan was left beside the bulletin board, down twelve missing posters and having recruited the most unlikely member of that evening’s search party.

-

The small group gathered outside the Byers' house made their dislike of Eddie’s presence all too clear from the second he turned onto the street. He had quietly walked up to the group in one of his uncle’s old high-vis vests from work and with his large camping torch. Eddie knew that his dramatics didn’t need to make an appearance while searching for a potentially dead kid. But the grimaces and dirty looks being shot his way had him itching to act out - whether it was in defence or defiance, he wasn’t sure which it would be. 

The whispering was painfully obvious. Eddie knew that people probably thought he’d sacrificed Will Byers to the devil to pay for his guitar or something equally as demented. It took a monumental effort to avoid eye contact with everyone besides Jonathan. Honestly, Eddie hated that he had become the centre of attention when he should be the least important thing on anyone’s mind. It made him feel sick. 

Sheriff Hopper was there like Jonathan had said. He nodded at Eddie while listening to a short brunette woman, likely Mrs Byers. The silent reassurance from the police sheriff was something Eddie never thought he would experience, but then again, the situation was far from normal. Hawkins had become far from normal. 

Mrs Byers started approaching Eddie across her lawn as his gaze remained firmly trained on the browning, dry grass under his boots. 

“Hi, you’re Wayne’s boy, Eddie, yeah?” Mrs Byers asked, her voice sounding a little hoarse and tired. The amount of stress the woman must have been under made Eddie feel even worse for drawing attention away from her youngest son. He’d even made a point of dressing in his plainest clothes, but unfortunately, they were all black. 

“Hi, ma’am. Uh, yeah, that’s me.” Eddie mumbled, meeting the woman’s gaze but fidgeting with the heavy rings on his fingers. “I wanted to come lend you guys a hand with all -” Mrs Byers raised her hand and gave Eddie a warm but tight-lipped smile. 

“Jonathan let me know you were coming along. Also, you can call me Joyce.” Joyce said gently, waving to other search party members who arrived. Before she could continue speaking, Eddie blurted out a thought that had been swirling around in his brain.

“I know me being here is a bother, but I’m only here to help.” 

“Eddie, as I said, Jonathan told me everything. He said you helped put up the posters. You’re the first person outside of Will’s friends to do that for him.” 

“He had like thirty of ‘em; can’t be fun having to put up that sort of stuff,” he grimaced at his words. No shit putting up missing posters for a twelve-year-old wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. “I mean, I know none of this is fun -“

“You don’t need to worry so much, I promise. You’re here to help, and that’s all that matters. Besides, I know you’re a good kid. You wouldn’t have shown up and stood here otherwise.” Joyce soothed. It was impressive how well she was holding up, all things considered. Maybe it was a “mom thing”? She saw a gangly teenager getting too much in their own head and had to intervene. Eddie couldn’t remember “mom things”, but Wayne tried his best to replicate them when needed. 

Eddie couldn’t hold back the bashful smile on his face, “I’ve got a weirdly good lay of the land all around town. The woods are easy to get lost in, but there’s a good amount of places where a kid would be able to rest.” 

“You can’t imagine how nice that is to hear.” Her big brown eyes were shining, possibly from blooming tears or a beat of relief. 

She was right. Eddie couldn’t imagine it. But any comfort Eddie could provide was better than nothing. Since Will had disappeared, Eddie had seen Joyce and Jonathan around town much more. He had never seen people look so much like husks of humans. It was almost like seeing ghosts haunting the streets. How the entire town wasn’t standing outside of the Byers’ house was beyond him. 

“If there’s an overhang or crevice in those woods, I’ll be able to sniff it out. Oh, yeah! My uncle wanted me to say that he’s gonna come help too - when his shifts get shuffled around anyway.”

Joyce didn’t say anything; she simply brought her tight-lipped smile back and squeezed Eddie’s forearm slightly. 

-

The search party was quite small, so everyone was put into pairs for safety. Eddie had nearly clung to Jonathan when everyone was paired up and sent on their way. The area of ground that was being searched that night was the lake shore and the forest surrounding it. Everyone was silently praying that they weren’t going to find the pale, bloated body of Will Byers in the freezing water. 

Eddie took the liberty of driving him and Jonathan to the area. It was the least he could do. The journey was silent. No talking, no music. He felt that the situation called for quiet. Eddie hated quiet; it made him restless and uncomfortable. 

Once the van was parked, the two were off, marching through fallen leaves and solid mud. The somewhat comfortable silence between the teenagers continued for some time after that. The only noise from either of them was the occasional call for Will, which echoed off the towering, inky forest walls. 

The harsh, bright beam from Eddie’s torch startled many squirrels trying to gather up their dinner - he shot them apologetic looks as he wandered by. Jonathan caught each of those looks and his mind continued to reel even more than it had been for the past week. Out of everyone in the entirety of Hawkins, one of the few people to actually make an effort to show was the most hated teenager within a ten-mile radius.

“Hey, um - your club at school, it’s not really a cult, is it?” Christ Jonathan was awkward at the best of times, but he was reaching new lows trying to think of small talk. Searching for Will was disturbing for him, but Will had always said he needed to put himself out there and make some friends. “Like it’s just an edgy name, right?”

Eddie was hit with a wave of shock from the line of questioning. “Uh, yeah. It’s just a name I thought sounded cool. No demon summoning or blood rituals. We just play D&D,” Eddie replied, kicking some crunchy leaves as they continued walking. “That’s Dungeons and Dra-”

“Will never shuts up about that game. It’s like his whole life lately.” Jonathan snorted. “Him and his friends camp out in the Wheeler’s basement and play it for, like, eight hours.”

“No way? You know what character he plays?” Eddie said in a curious tone. He tried to squash down his immediate excitement at being able to discuss a hobby that was so special to him.

“He plays a wizard, Will the Wise - might be a sorcerer, actually; I know the classes are a little different. He’s got a whole costume for when he leads their games - which is most of ‘em.” Talking about Will with fondness was cathartic for Jonathan. Everyone only wanted to talk about his little brother in the past tense - like he would never come back or was already dead. That wasn’t true. Will was going to get home soon, and his D&D costume would be waiting patiently in his closet.

Eddie’s eyes had filled with that bright hope once again, “He’s a magic user and the Dungeon Master!? Shit, this kid’s gotta be really good if he can balance all that!” The excitement couldn’t stay contained, no matter how hard Eddie tried. However, Jonathan appreciated the outburst of happiness. The constant sombre cloud that hung over his and his mom’s heads day in and day out was getting harder to deal with. Getting to be Will Byers’ biggest fan again was a good feeling. It was the first time Jonathan could feel himself cheering up, even a little bit.

“He’s crazy about it, man! All he wanted for Christmas this year was more of the books for it.” Jonathan enthused, his eyes still shifting around the illuminated forest for any movement. “I eavesdropped on one of their sessions a few weeks back, and it sounded so fun. Something about demons and gorgons following Vecna - not sure what that is, but Will made it sound like stuff straight out of a book.” 

“Going for a Vecna storyline with a buncha twelve-year-olds? Fuck, your brother is a hardcore little guy.” Eddie grinned. He used to be the same when he ran campaigns back in Middle School. A Dungeon Master, as well as Edward, the half-elf bard that gave the most metal inspiration during battles. “You ever thought about trying your hand at it?”

Jonathan hesitated. “Thought about- uh, going to one of those open Hellfire things you guys do at the start of the year, actually,” he mumbled, starting to feel embarrassed. It was true. He had considered going to Hellfire once or twice to understand D&D better for Will’s sake. Any time he proofread Will’s campaign notes, he was lost on its details. 

This conversation was strange, but a good type of strange. Jonathan had been dreading the night search, as he always did. However, having the company of a high-vis-clad metalhead was surprisingly nice. Jonathan knew not to entertain the idea of friendship; Eddie was two years older than him, after all. But the brief moments of comradery and compassion were rare in Hawkins. 

“Huh. Well, we’re a “the more, the merrier” kinda crowd. So don’t be a stranger, Byers.” Eddie smiled, nudging Jonathan’s side with his elbow. “We meet after school on Fridays. Make sure to bring Will the Wise with you too. I wanna see this kid absolutely destroy everything I have planned.” 

Will Byers was a lot more than a missing little boy. Eddie felt that when he met the kid, he would see a scary amount of himself. Jonathan and Eddie had silently agreed that Will couldn’t be dead. It just wasn’t a possible outcome to the chaos that spread across the town. 

Jonathan and Eddie continued to chat about anything and everything - D&D specifics, music, school, and their hobbies. Both boys continued to be ever vigilant for even the smallest rustle of leaves or shift in their surroundings. Bright beams from their flashlights continued to scan the pitch-black forest - fading away into the depths of Hawkins. 

It was almost like walking straight into hell, but at least they wouldn’t have to do it alone.

///

Tags: @vigilanteshit @lunatictardis @chainsawmunson @mantorokk-writes

[idleminds]

[sburbian-sage]

not sure who's ripping off who but there seem to be archviles in the session i'm in, and for the record most of my circle have entered so the timing works for me

how do i not die to them

You mean the weirdos from Doom? Did one of you guys prototype Doom and now you've got demonic Underlings running around?

That's badass.

Uh, but to answer your question. A demonic Underling is still an Underling, so they have a tendency towards being weak push-overs. Maybe this Archvile thing is more of a Lich-class Underling. In any case, most enemies with special abilities tend to telegraph them, and Doom enemies telegraph as well (and fire slowish bullets so you can dodge). If you feel the ground beginning to burn, youthroll out of the way. If they throw fireballs, dodge as well. And if you have a spare Strife Card, maybe give them a healthy dosage of shotgunkind.

Apparently Archviles in their native game can revive fallen enemies. I'm not sure that really works in SBURB. Revivifying means you need corpses, and most dead Underlings explode into grist upon death (unless you impale them, known exploit). So I don't think they should be able to do that? Unless they just summon new trash mobs. In either case, geek them first.

[cassie-in-the-dark]

Did you know soon is my birthday? Well, in 8 days to be exact. I wanna invite you because most of my classmates hate me and I only have like- 2 real friends-

And besides, even if they did like me, they wouldn't really be friends with me cuz according to them, I'm a weirdo loner geek. I wanna invite you instead! We both are clearly the loner geeks of our class (that was compliment just in case)! I also like Roxy! I think we would get along! I haven't tried carrot cake yet, but I think I'll like it! My favorite flavor though is chocolate cake!!!

I'd love to come but I'm currently stuck like underground.. If I find a way out in the next 8 days totally!!

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Silly DC Rogues + Scooby Doo incorrect quotes/concepts:

The Rogues adopting different members of the gang. It starts with Jonathan Crane meting Velma on a psychology seminar, than Riddler finds Fred in a trap convencion, Joker (or Harley pick your poison) goes buy a new lipstick and ends up bonding with Daphne, Scooby and Shaggy either became budies with Penguin after going to eat at the Iceberg or with Condiment King.

-/-

Batman: Scarecrow is too quiet lately I bet he is plotting some terrifying squeme.

*meanwhile at Jonathan Crane's hideout"

Scarecrow: Oh please, child, you can't do that to me. That's cruel.

Velma: You know the rules. No kidnnaping pleople or throwing fear toxin on places for a month or we will not let you study Shaggy and Scooby fear responses!

Scarecrow: Fine.

Velma: Now, Doctor Crane, I want the toxin canister I know you are hinding right now.

Scarecrow: You are lucky to be my favorite student, young lady. *gives her the vial*

Velma: All of them

Scarecrow: Fine. *gives her another ten hidden vials of fear toxin he had in his coat*

-/-

Velma: Er... I know this might be akward but I feel we bonded since last time we met and I wanted to ask you something.

Scarecrow: I didn't kill him, he died of fear naturaly.

Velma: Jinkies!!!!! I just wanted date advice.

Scarecrow: Oh?

Velma: You see I like this girl, a lot, abd I want to try to ask her on a date or something ... but... the problem is ... she is a villan and you are a vilan so I'm thinking maybe...

Scarecrow: Hm. Another villain. Maybe you should ask Harley. Unless she is really obnoxious, green and keeps asking annoying questions I have no idea how to help.

Velma: I think I'm the obnoxious one, asking all the questions? I mean I get really nervous when we are together so I end up talking a lot but not making much sense.

Scarecrow: Well if you are the obnoxious one, wich for what I know of you is highly doubtfull but I suppose not impossible, you can always build her a nice weapon, talk about how you are the best person ever to the point she may end kissing you so you shut up and look cute when scared.

Velma: I don't get scared. Nor talk about being the best.

Scarecrow: There is the weapon.

Velma: Wouldn't build a weapon to a villain be a bad thing?

Scarecrow: Since when do I care, Miss Dinkley?

Velma: Fair. But I do.

Scarecrow: In this case build something that can help her recover for potential injuries, crime is a very dangerous job.

Velma: That's actually really helpfull! Thanks, Doctor Crane!

Scarecrow: Only trying to help my best student, Miss Dinkley!

Velma: About that did you finish your studies on Shaggy and Scooby?

Scarecrow: Oh yes! They are fascinating!

*Velma and Jon start geeking out over chemistry and brain readings*

-/-

At Gotham's Annual Trap Convention

Announcer: This year the trap making competition will be done in duos! A special change to spice the ten years aniversary of the Traps Club of Professional Trapers and a way for us to make new trap themes.

Fred: Oh nice. Who wants to team up with me?

*no one says nothing*

Fred: Please? Gotham has the best trap convention I always wanted to win it's annual competion. Help a kid with their dreams!!

*is ignored*

Fred: : (

Riddler: *also didn't got a team mate because he is annnoying as heck* Riddle me this, ascot weirdo, the less you have the more they are worthy?

Fred: Uh... Scooby Snacks? Scooby normally recquires two or more to do really dangerous things but when it's for the last one he is super kean.

Riddler: What? *looks around* *everyone else already has a team* Fuck. Fiiine. You are stupid! Most people are but still you are impressivly dumb.

Fred: Thanks, my dad says the same thing.

Riddler: ...

Riddler: Dads! *rolls his eyes* As I was saying do wanna team up?

Fred: Sure!

Riddler: I never lost one of those so I want to make very clear to you beforehand that I expect a high perfomance.

Fred: Of course. All my traps are prefectly made! I'm a profissional, not like those two people over there using mapple to build an estructure that should totaly be made of oak.

Riddler: You are... actually right. And what the fuck are those knots? Do they want to fail? Honestly I bet they are Joker's men.

*They of course win the competition and become buddies*

-/-

*in a different universe*

Riddler: *shaking* PLEASE DON'T TAKE ME BACK BATMAN! *terrifield* I wasn't even comiting any crimes. I'm totaly clean! A new honest man. Please please Batman.

Batman: I'm sorry but you did escape from Arkham.

Riddler: Okay, okay, sure... I can go to Blackgate! Or Belle Reave. Or any other Asylum. Or solitary. I escaped. Yeah. I'm really evil Batman take me to solitary please.

Batman: I don't understand. What's going on with you? *concerned* Are you being abused? You can trust me.

Riddler: No. Not more than normal. It's fine. The problem isn't the guards or the doctors, I just can't come back to him.

Batman: *they are alredy on Arkham* Him?

Guard: Oh thank god you brought Nygma back his cellmate was really distressed.

Riddler: whimpers

Batman: Cellmate?

Riddler: *on his knees* Please please anything but him.

*they got to the cell*

Guard: *ignoring Ed* Yeah, the new guy, he is a transfer for center state, a total loony.

*Bruce looks to the cell to see a guy with a colorfull full of glitter hand puppet. He moves the puppet*

Professor Huh? (via puppet): Hi Eddie, I missed you! I can't banana drive to the mom alone.

Riddler: *hides behind Batman* This doesn't make any sense! *hyperventilating* Go away!!

Batman: Calm down, Nygma, what's the problem with your cellmate?

Professor Huh? (via puppet): Batman? My son likes you! Let's fly with a papper pane to show him a picture!

Batman: Of course! Just a second.*turns back to Riddler having a panic attack* Okay, Edward we are going to go to a different cell and you are going to tell me what is the problem.

Riddler: o-o-okay y-you pro-promisse I won't see *trembles* him?

Batman: Yes.

Riddler: He... He is weird! *Batman raises an eyebrown* You are just like the others!! You don't understand. You need to take me seriusly!!! He is... He is different from us... He scares me, Batman! He only speaks with the creepy puppet and he makes no sense! He never spoke a logical sentence in his life! His answeres to my riddles are soo abstract and it makes me question everything and he... he took my eyebrows with a croissant and put them on my shoulders once *shivers* that... that's insane? I'm not crazzy! It happened but it makes no sense! He makes no sense. He defies logic Batman. He sees order and he breaks it. I.. I need order, Batman!!!!

-/-

*back to our normal programing*

Riddler: Aha! We did it! We catched Batman.

Fred: Wait? Batman? I understood we were supposed to catch Mothman! Why would we catch Batman? He is a good guy.

Riddler: *who just stoled a museum in front of Fred hours ago and it's dressed on his full riddler costume* I'm a supervilan?

Fred: Hahaha. That was funny. Now let's catch Mothman.

Riddler: ????

Fred: *gives a lost puppie smile* You know I always wanted to catch Mothman with my dad... *blushes* Er... I meant with you! Yeah I always wanted to catch a cryptic with my good friend Mr. Nygma who I don't see as a dad at all haha.

Riddler: .... fine... *opens the trap* Sorry, Batman. We were trying to catch Mothman this time.

Batman (Dick, Bruce had a small emergency involving Alfred's niece Daphne) *confused* What?

Riddler: Don't ask me.

Batman (Dick): *sarcastically* Yeah, yeah, you are the one who asks questions. C'mmon Nygma let's go back to Arkham.

Riddler: *fake sweet smile* Okay *presents his hads to be handcuffed* Buuut you will have to be the one to the him we are not going to catch Mothman. *evil smile*

Batman (Dick): Er... Hi kid?

Fred: Batman! Me and my friends are huge fans. We also solve mysteries.

Batman: Nice? Look your monster hunter partner is actually a dangerous criminal.

Fred: Velma? I know she sometimes uses her evil scientist voice but she is a sweetheart.

Batman: No, the other one.

Fred: Daphne? She only breaks the bones of the people who deserve it! She also sometimes commits identity fraud but I wouldn't call that dangerous criminal behavior just kirky.

Batman: Uh, not her either...

Fred: SHAGGY AND SCOOBY? Are you insane Batman!! They are lovely people. The most they can do it's steal your sanduiche but they are really nice about it.

Batman: I was more by the lines of Riddler.

Fred: Who is Riddler?

*at this point even Edward is in shock. He never told Fred he was Riddler but it should be a given*

Batman: Nygma?

Fred: Oh! Uncle Eddie is not a dangerous criminal he is too weak and silly.

Riddler: Hey!

Fred: Sorry? But I saw you be bitten by an ant and cry over it.

Riddler: *blushing* I... It hurted.

Batman: *snickers*

Riddler: *whispers* you are not convincing no one Nightwing

Batman: *also whispering* fuck you, Nygma

Fred: See totaly not a dangerous criminal. Besides he isn't dressed as a monster.

Batman: I suppose.

Fred: *puppy eyes* So can you let us go back to hunting Mothman.

Batman:... Sure. Stay safe citzens *whispering* you better not doing anything bad, Nygma

Riddler: *whispering meancingly* or what?

Batman: *whispering* you gonna break the kids heart *throws him back at Fred wich results on him failing to floor*

Riddler: ouch. That was unecessary! *Batman has already disapeared*

Fred: *helping riddler up* I didn't know Batman was such a funny guy! You are dangerous criminal haha.

Riddler: *trying not to sound offended* Let's stop talking about it and go catch Mothman, alright.

-/-

In a more serious universe P.I Nygma actually meets the gang as he is hired to investigate a missing person case related to the "monster" Mystery Inc is investigating. (If in my college au he does warns them about Professor Crane before leaving saying something about nigthmares on Arkham)

-/-

Daphne: Oh dear, no! Don't buy this shade of lipstick.

Joker: Do you know who I am?

Daphne: Yes, you are the famous serial killer and supervilan Joker and you are going to look awfull with this.

[alternativally]

Daphne: Oh dear, no! Don't buy this shade of lipstick.

Harley: Wow, you're that monster hunter kid! I saw a video of you guys on youtube! Nice.

Daphne: I saw a video of you on YouTube as well! I've been crazy to ask your make up brand because I need to be able to do moves like that without messing mine up. Also can I ask how did you learn that cool half-flip head kick? I've been practicing a lot but I think is not quite right yet.

-/-

Alfred is the creator of the Scooby Snacks. He also has to hide the kitchem because Scooby and Shaggy eat all the food. That being said he does like how apreciative they are.

[bylillian]

Of the many films that dramatise the deranged behaviour of celebrity fans, one of the most popular is Der Fan, a German production from 1982 about a teenage girl obsessed with a pop singer. It begins predictably enough – she writes him dozens of letters – but the ending is a little less orthodox. When he doesn’t reply she intercepts him outside one of his gigs, hangs out in his dressing room, has sex with him, kills him with a statue, chops him up and puts the dismembered body parts in a freezer. Unsurprisingly, it has become a cult classic.

Like most works of its genre, Der Fan taps into a stereotype that fans have had to endure since the emergence of popular culture. Characterised as hysterics, fantasists, psychopaths, geeks, misfits or mindless consumers, they are feared either as obsessive loners who spend their lives fretting in their bedrooms (like the protagonists of most fan movies) or as members of a frenzied mob (screaming teenagers at a Harry Styles gig). The word is still associated with “fanatic” in the public consciousness. We assume that anyone with a consuming interest in a celebrity or fictional universe is this way inclined (unless they are a sports fan, in which case their behaviour is likely to be applauded).

Psychological studies of fans tell a very different story from this narrative of folly. While every fandom has its extreme fringes, in the vast majority of cases, being a fan – and particularly being part of a fandom – appears to have a remarkably positive influence on people’s lives. Gayle Stever, who has been studying the psychology of celebrity for more than three decades and has interviewed thousands of fans about their passions, says she has largely found them to be “normal people carrying on normal lives”, who view their relationship with their idol as similar to an important friendship or a special hobby. Throughout the course of her career she has met “maybe 15” fans who were unwell (these include one who used extensive cosmetic surgery to make himself look like Michael Jackson).

Taylor Swift’s millions of young fans love her for her music but also for her awareness of things that matter to them

It is hardly surprising that fandoms have a normalising effect on behaviour, for they fulfil an ancient human imperative: the need to be part of a group. The groups we belong to – family, friends, neighbours, colleagues – are an essential part of who we are. They give us companionship, purpose and a sense of security, and allow us to do things we wouldn’t do on our own. Fandoms are social groups like any other. They connect us with people who share our interests, and they give us the courage to follow our convictions. It’s safe to be different, weird or nerdy with your fellow fans as you’re all in it together. Studies have found a “psychological dividend” for mental wellbeing and self-esteem among fans of Star Trek, Star Wars, Harry Potter, Sherlock Holmes, Dr Who and One Direction. The fact that many know each other exclusively online doesn’t seem to diminish the strength of their bonds.

Psychologists refer to this group effect as the “social cure”. It is not the only way people benefit from fan culture. For many, their idol becomes a role model, someone they seek to emulate or who represents an attitude or way of being that might previously have seemed closed to them. Often we are drawn to people whose experience or outlook reflects our own. Taylor Swift’s millions of young fans love her for her music but also for her awareness of the things that matter to them, and because her lyrics about heartache and angst mirror their own trauma. They don’t know her, but her songs make it clear that she knows them.

The screenwriter Jane Goldman, whose credits include X-Men: First Class and Kick-Ass, told me about her teenage fascination with Boy George. She was a fan, she said, partly because of his music but also because his androgynous appearance and uniquely flamboyant style made her believe she could achieve something in life other than what was expected of her. “I saw in him this possibility of going out and living slightly outside of what society tells you to do,” she said. “I remember the first time I saw him on Top of the Pops – it was like something clicked. I’ve spoken to a lot of people who have had the same experience. I felt like an outsider, I wasn’t quite sure where I fitted in the world, and then I suddenly had a sense of belonging, like I had found my way.”

Role models are no less powerful if they are fictional. Indeed, fictional heroes come with many advantages. They are readily available (you can always reread that book or rewatch that TV series). They have dependable personalities. And they come with a ready-made network of like-minded enthusiasts. As with real-life idols, fans tend to latch on to fictional characters whose values they admire. Harry Potter is adored by adolescents because he made it acceptable not to fit in, and because of his close circle of loyal friends. Many Star Wars fans find inspiration in the wisdom and ideals of the Jedi, the ancient order of protectors who learned to channel the light side of the Force through meditation and the control of negative emotions. Among Jane Austen fans, Elizabeth Bennet in Pride and Prejudice is a standout model of courage and independent thinking because of how she defied the patriarchal norms of her era.

These dynamics of hope and transformation are hardly ever discussed in the public conversation about fans, yet they are a common thread, whether your interest is celebrities or classic literature, sci-fi or medieval history. Most fans are on a search for meaning, and they are prepared to give a great deal of themselves to find it. To be a fan means many things, but at its heart it is an act of love.

 Fans: A Journey Into the Psychology of Belonging by Michael Bond is published by Picador.

[stardustpinkart]

Of course in some cases, be careful. But I do believe its possible to be friends and discuss things with older groups. The oustide might change but not so much the inside? You can happily geek out and discuss things like comics, books, movies, tv, cartoons, with like minds of any age. It seems unfair to be shoved out when you hit a certain age, as if you dont belong anymore or should “act your age”... By that logic it’ll happen to you judgy “youngsters”, your all gonna get older too. How wouldja like it then.

I do think its gotten a bit better. As a kid I felt like such a weirdo and loser, and you get taught(I grew up in the 90s) your supposed to “grow up” and give up all those “childish” things. And it seems that means "not enjoying yourself". Nowadays everyones a bit of a geek, its more openminded compared to then.

I certainly hope this puritanism is summin that can also improve.

tbh shoutout to the over 40s on tumblr, sorry the internet acts like yall belong in the retirement home when ur literally just regular adults with hobbies

[mommypieck]

༺ ♱ ༻ kinktober day four: missionary/breath play

✿ hange zoe

✿ tutor hange fucks dumb bimbo girl instead of studying

your head rests in your hand as you listen to your biology teacher rambling about your test mark. it's not the first time u failed your test and you're pretty much failing. when you decided to study medicine, you did it just because u wanted to be rich, you sure as hell weren't expecting most of your curses to be either about biology or science.

other people would call you picnic short of a sandwich but u just want to have money so you can buy pretty skirts and dresses. every since you were little, you loved makeup and fashion more than anything. and when you entered high school some started calling you bimbo or the dumb pretty girl.

you never cared much about it though. everyone has their title in school and you just happened to have this one. at least im not a geek or a weirdo, you thought to yourself. the thought of someone calling you a weird girl instead of a pretty girl makes you wanna puke.

"so y/n, as it seems like you are getting nowehere by yourself. im gonna assist hange to help you out with your school work." the teacher says and folds her hands on the desk as if she accomplished something. you can't help but to chuckle at that move.

"right ms. __. it's a pleasure to help others with what i love the most." you hear other voice say from behind you. you turned around to be met with a tall person with glasses.

oh god, a nerd, you think to yourself.

you turn around to face the teacher, regretting that you didn't wear a shorter skirt today. sometimes even women can't resist when you wear your short skirts. not like you would do something with a girl, that happened only one or twice... or it happens every thursday with your friend in the bathroom stall.

"ehm ehm," the person behind you clears their voice, "my name is hange. im gonna be tutoring you. nice to meet you."

you want to protest that you've never asked for tutoring, but the person is already shaking your hand with their sweaty one.

oh god, how am i gonna survive this? the thought makes you wanna pout and beg the teacher to assign someone different.

"hey, im here." the person says again to catch your attention. you take a good look at them for the first time. their hair is super greasy that you wouldn't be surprised if you could fry something on it during hot weather. their glasses fell down on the bridge of their nose. their clothes are dirty with all sorts of paint and they smell horribly.

"great." you mumble out, preparing to die if you spend more seconds with them.

"great!" they yell out with excitement, "my car is parked outside. so we can drive to my apartment." you can promise that you have never seen more excited person to be tutoring someone.

you follow them like a lost puppy already dealt with the whole situation. they are much more steps in front of you, almost jumping with every step.

they stop in front of their car and you can't help but to note that their car is really nice. it's almost as dirty as they are, but it's the latest model. (you learned some stuff about cars from the boys you hooked up with)

your face jumps in surprise when they open the door for you to jump it, firstly dusting the seat for you to sit in. it's a small gesture but it catches your eyes. they sit next to you, turning to face you. they give you one quick wink before they start the engine.

"oh come on, y/n," they say for the hundred time this afternoon, "it's a simple question."

they groan into the pillow they are holding, rolling over on their bed.

you found out hange isn't the worst case you could've met with. sure, they are messy and spell, and their apartment is more of a dungeon than an apartment, but surprisingly, the change of environment makes you excited.

"i don't know." you whine out in bored voice. for the past few minutes you were more interested on how hanges nose looks rideable than on biology. of course you don't find hange attractive, but the way, they scrunch their eyebrows together every time you get the answer wrong, is just... yummy.

you move in your seat, rubbing your thighs together. i wanna play, you think to yourself.

"tell me, hange," you start of with your little game, "are you a virgin?"

you notice the way they freeze, eyes traveling from the book to your face. bingo. they clear their voice before they speak up, "no, i am not a virgin."

your mouth fell open at their response. you expected them to be one, pointing at how they dress or act. a tiny part of you likes this answer even more.

you move to sit even closer to them, one of your hands tangling under hanges and the second resting on their thigh. you let your head to fall on their shoulder as you look them straight in the eyes.

"how experienced are you?" you ask, tracing little hearts with your fingers on their arm. they look down to see what you are going before answering, "enough to make you cry."

their voice is deeper than before and you can feel their eyes scanning your every more. you start to be a little nervous, every gaze they give you burning your body.

you shakily move your hand to rest on top of their bulge. you can't help but to flutter your eyelashes at them, afraid they might back off now.

"that's it." they say, but it ends up sounding more like a moan. you yell out when their drag you by your legs to the center of the bed. you want to say something, but your mouth is already occupied by hanges lips. they lick into your mouth, kissing you like their life depended on it. the kiss is messy and wet and you can feel the spit running down your chin, but you seriously don't care. you aren't used to people acting like this with you, everyone else has always treated you like a fragile flower, but their is what you were missing.

hanges lips move down to your neck, licking and sucking on it, marking you up. when their lips meet the swell of your breats, they rip your white skirt apart, leaving your just in your bra.

they stop for a moment to smile at you, clearly enjoying the view in front of them.

before you can plead them to continue, their hands are on your breasts, massaging and pinching the skin. they hold the cups and with one swift moment, they rip it off too. their mouth is on your nipple the next second. they take their time licking and sucking on it, sometimes even biting it and making you yelp.

while one of their hands is busy fondling your tit, the other slithers down to your panties.

"no hange, not the skirt." you plead, afraid that they might rip the skirt too. they chuckle against your nipple, sending vibration down to your core.

"i would never rip that skirt." they say and you can feel them ripping off your panties. the waste no time with pleasing you, their fingers dancing on your clit, making you whine out like never before. you can feel that they know what they are doing and what you need, as if they knew your body their whole life. their lips touch your cheek again, giving you a sweet kiss.

"i don't waste time with preparing dumb girls. they are loose enough for me to wreck them." they whisper in your ear. you hear their belt rumbling and their hot cock is at your opening the next second, already slowly pushing in. you know that it's no use to plead them to slow down. their tip roughly entering you as they force their entire cock into your small hole. your back arches of the bed, tits bouncing with the force. a loud moan followed by "take it" rips out of hanges throat, making you moan out too. they set slow but rough pace, their thrusts meeting your cervix everytime.

your eyes screw shut as their thrusts get faster in pace.

"hurts," you whine out, looking at hange, your tongue falling out of your mouth. they smile at your reaction, going even faster than before. you can feel your orgasm building up in your core with every move of their hips. suddenly their hands are at your throat, squeezing and stopping all oxygen from your lungs.

"take it, take it, take it," they repeat with every thrust, their orgasm slowly building up too.

your vision goes blank as you cum all over hanges sheets. you have never cum so much in your entire life. they follow you shortly after, shooting their seed on your bully and tits.

you breathe out as you lay on their bed, looking at them. they stand up saying, "come on, dummy, now let's study, so i can fuck you again later."

[uwusenpaiuwu]

Baji Being A Menace To Society (And Your Relationship) 2.0

Sequel to: Baji A.K.A. The Worst (Best) Matchmaker

Summary: Baji’s at it again, acting out-of-pocket and creating chaos for absolutely no reason, other than to see you suffer. In his own Baji-esque way, of course.

Pairing: Sano Manjiro | Mikey x Male Reader

Warning(s): Boku no Pico is mentioned, but there is absolutely nothing graphic; mentions of masturbation

Note(s): I am so sorry if it isn’t funny. Sadly, I am but an amateur writer, not a comedian. Still, I hope you all enjoy! ^^

"(Y/n), want some ice cream? My treat."

Usually, you'd be the first to jump at an offer for a sweet treat, especially when you don't have to pay. However, as of now, the word 'ice cream,' when said by Baji, instantly triggers your fight-or flight-response. Paired with the fact that he’s broke as hell, your suspicions only increase for the sudden indulgence.

Since you know you're no match for the long-haired menace, your body automatically prepares to flee, legs twitching to lurch into a sprint. Unfortunately for you, just before you can get the fuck out of there, your hand is being grabbed by Mikey, who leisurely begins to tug you along to claim your dessert.

“You like ice cream, right?” he turns to ask, eyes unbelievably soft when looking at you.

And because you’re weak for him, all you can do is nod stiffly, trading in your sanity for the pleased grin that spreads across his face, his confident strides thereafter likely a result of him successfully remembering another miscellaneous fact about you, as has been the case since you officially started dating him. From the most trivial of things, like which brand of pens and pencils you prefer, to the slightly more important stuff, like ice cream being one of your favorite desserts; he’s made the effort of remembering them all.

He really doesn’t need to do any of that, ‘cause you’ll love him either way, but the conscious decision to do so is what makes you love him even more.

Zoning back into reality, you shake your head to reorient yourself. It isn’t the time to be going over the reasons why you’re such a lovesick puppy.

No, there are other things to worry about, mainly Baji.

You squeeze Mikey’s hand as you’re led to the nearest ice cream parlor to try and calm yourself. It works for the most part, especially when you get a reassuring squeeze back.

‘Right,’ you tell yourself, ‘it’s going to be okay.’

After all, Baji wouldn’t do anything too drastic, right?

~~~

You were wrong. So, so wrong.

Despite nothing having transpired yet, every alarm in your head is going off, pounding at the door of reason to get you to wake up and realize that it’s Baji you’re talking about, the same person that sets cars on fire when hungry and punches the first unfortunate soul he passes by on the street when sleepy.

You really should’ve listened to your survival instincts and ran. Alas, it’s much too late to escape, leaving you to wallow in your anxiety, while you wait for misfortune to strike.

And strike it does.

“Please, don’t sit next to me. You make me nauseous.”

“That’s cruel. I bought you ice cream, and you treat me like this?”

Yeah, he may have bought it, but you refuse to eat it because of how intensely Baji is staring at you. Fucking weirdo.

"Oh, do you want some of mine instead, (Y/n)?" Baji accentuates his question with a sensual lick to his ice cream from the edge of the cone to the finessed peak, making you extremely uncomfortable as he stares you down with the full motion.

As slowly as he licks his frozen treat do you slowly raise your middle finger, eliciting chuckles from the other occupants of the table.

You think you won that mini battle, though?

Ha! Nope.

Baji mirrors the vulgar action, not once breaking eye contact as he dips the tip of his finger directly into his ice cream, pulls it out, and proceeds to lick that, too.

Disgusted, you promptly avert your attention elsewhere, praying that Baji won’t continue being, well, himself.

Your prayers fall on deaf ears.

"It's cold!" As soon as the exclamation leaves your mouth, your blood runs glacial, knowing that you've unintentionally played into Baji's trap. The appearance of a sly, almost feral, smirk when you whip your head around to glare confirms what you already know.

The curtain has risen, and you’re standing center stage in a performance you can’t break free from.

"Aw, can't let it go to waste,” Baji continues, reaching over to scoop the ice cream you’re 100% certain he purposely spilled on the front of your shirt, with his fingers.

Then, to your horror and everyone else’s shock, he asks, without an ounce of virtue to his name, "Want me to lick it off with my mouth?"

Chifuyu is seated on the other side of the table, hiding his face in his hands. “Baji-san...”

"It'll stain if it dries like that." Dear God, how you wish to un-see Baji batting his eyelashes at you.

“I don’t care!” At this point, you’ve resorted to clumsily scooting your chair as far away from him as possible, which isn’t actually as far as you’d like considering your surroundings. Hell, so long as you put some distance between yourself and the crazy bastard that wants to see you suffer, you don’t mind having to force yourself halfway onto Mikey’s lap. (The firm hand that keeps you steady by the waist proves that your presence isn’t unwanted either.)

"Geez, (Y/n), you're such a scatterbrain."

Seeing Baji sell the line with a slow tugging of his hair behind the ear has you torn between laughing and dying a little more. Truthfully, his acting is frighteningly impressive, and you would’ve applauded his performance, if not for the fact that the role he’s playing still haunts your dreams.

By this time, most of who accompanied you to the ice cream parlor have figured out what kind of drugs Baji is on this time, which also means that those fuckers have seen, or are at least aware of, the cursed trilogy of questionable porn that’s being reenacted before their eyes, with you as an unwilling co-star. Those that are puzzled as to why people are shoving their fists in their mouths to refrain from laughing are obviously God’s favorites.

“The fuck is going on? I wanna laugh at Baji’s dumbassery, too.”

“Pah-chin... I think it’s best you don’t know.”

Interestingly enough, the one you’re most concerned about hasn’t said anything yet, splitting his attention between observing the scene unfolding and eating his portion of a deluxe sundae.

Then, out of nowhere-

“I understand.”

You and Baji freeze where you are, each of you grasping the other’s collar, you to shove him away, and him to draw you closer.

“(Y/n),” Mikey says, your name rolling silkily off his tongue in a tone much too fond for his next words, “if you like roleplay, just tell me.”

...

“Huh?”

“I’m fine with pissing, remember? So, roleplay shouldn’t be a problem.”

Heat rises to your face at an alarming pace, and it continues to climb as Mikey takes your free hand in his, which serves not to comfort but to unintentionally remind you of the humiliating experience from a few months back. And just when you convinced him that you didn’t want anything to do with getting freaky with the body’s excreta, too.

“You’ve got it wrong! I don’t- arfghfgh?!”

Your prayer to help cool down your flushed cheeks must have been heard, but you’re pretty damn sure you didn’t ask for Baji to shove his ice cream in your mouth!

“Oh, yeah. (Y/n)’s a fuckin’ geek when it comes to roleplay,” the unhinged bastard speaks in your stead, indifferent to the nails clawing at his hand clamped over your mouth. “You should try it with him. We were doing a scene from his favorite anime.”

Mikey tilts his head, interest positively piqued. “Which one is that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, leader?”

Mikey raises an eyebrow.

Baji opens his mouth.

You lunge.

It’s a series of events that happens in the blink of an eye and ends with loud crashing as you tackle Baji to the ground.

“Listen up, Baji Keisuke. We took an oath that day, and if you dare utter a word of what went down, I’ll consider that a breach of the code of secrecy and take you down, making sure you drown in a pit of your own shame and despair.”

Surprised to have been pinned down so quickly, it takes a while for Baji’s brain to catch up, but when it does, he’s frustratingly unfazed at the threat.

“Oho~ How scary. Too bad for you, I have no shame.”

“Not even if I tell Mama Baji where your porn stash is?”

That has the great Baji tensing up.

“You wouldn’t dare use an underhanded tactic like that.”

Your lips turn into a wicked grin. “Are you sure? I have as much dirt on you as you have on me, and like you, I won’t hesitate to use it to my advantage.”

If your grin is wicked, Baji’s is downright evil, showing off his sharp, gritted canines and all.

“You got balls, (Y/n),” he snarls, “but mine are bigger.”

The boy beneath you opens his mouth, and faster than you can stop him, he just...does it.

“(Y/n) (L/n) watched Boku no Pico and liked it!”

Silence.

Silence is all that’s heard for a good, long minute following the booming roar of the revelation.

You dare not look up to gauge everyone’s reactions, instead keeping your icy glare fixated on Baji, who looks smug as shit for having caused the glorious eruption of heat to spread like wildfire across your entire body, from the tips of your ears down to where your skin disappears under the collar of your jacket.

This...

This is war.

Taking in a deep breath, you answer his uncalled for declaration with your own thunderous shout of, “Baji watched Boku no Pico and jacked off to it! Twice!”

Baji laughs. “Oh, pray tell, saintly (Y/n), how many times did you jack off to it?”

“None of your fucking business, asshole.”

“Pretty fucking sure it is, since we were in the same room.”

Someone chokes, while you choke Baji.

“We. Swore. To. Secrecy. You. Asshole,” you practically growl, with each of your words accompanied by a ruthless back-and-forth shaking of the other boy’s person.

“Let up on the choking, dude. I’m not into that. You, however-”

Unable to take the ceaseless slander to your name anymore, you reel your fist back, but, upon seeing Baji’s cheek turned to you, jaw jutted out, as if inviting you to take your best shot, you hesitate. You know you wouldn’t be able to pack enough of a punch to actually leave an impact on him, which is terribly upsetting.

On the bright side, there’s still one tactic you can use that’ll be just as effective, a technique courtesy of your health teacher, who happily taught it to the class to use in case of an emergency.

Technically, it’s meant to be used to assess a person’s level of consciousness, but you suppose it can be used to get back at inconsiderate idiots, too.

“Ow! Ow! What the fuc-! Ow!”

You keep a straight face as you continue to rub your knuckles against his sternum, fully intent on delivering the worst possible pain to the current bane of your existence. It brings a sort of sadistic satisfaction to hear the ever prideful Baji’s screams of pain, and while it doesn’t completely undo the damage done, it does help soothe your wounded self-esteem.

“You want me stop? Beg for it.”

“Pissing, roleplay, choking, and begging? Goddam- OW!”

Your reign of terror comes to its untimely end when you’re lifted up into the air by the armpits, and through the haze of your power trip, you realize that Baji’s saving grace is Draken, who proceeds to carry you out of the parlor with ease.

“People are staring,” he coolly explains when you protest to having unfinished business.

Pouting, you cross your arms over your chest. “It’s his fault.”

Once outside, Draken doesn’t immediately put you back on your feet, until Mikey strolls out of the parlor. Only when the gang leader has his arms outstretched to you are you promptly deposited on the ground and taken into his embrace.

“Are you done letting off some steam?” is the first thing he asks you. Even though you can’t see his expression, the way he holds you and the way he cradles the back of your head, handling you with the utmost care, is indication enough that there will be no reprimand for, essentially, assaulting your division commander. (You would argue that it was an act of self defense against verbal harassment, but whatever.)

There’s just an overwhelming amount of love. So, so, so much love for each other.

“Yeah, I am,” you eventually answer, followed by a content sigh.

“Good.”

Naturally, that’s the perfect time for the tinkling of the bells above the parlor door to pilfer your attention. Baji’s appearance causes your face to morph into a scowl.

You cling tighter to Mikey, peeking over his shoulder to flip the ravenet off and mouth, ‘Go to Hell.’

As always, Baji answers your attempt to appear opposing with an obnoxious smirk.

‘See you there.’

~~~

“Boku no Pico, huh?”

“Draken, don’t laugh! Baji forced me to watch it!”

“All 3 episodes?”

“Twice.”

“...”

“...”

“Favorite scene...?”

“As if I’d have one.”

"Actually-"

“Ahh! Shut up! Why are you here, stupid Baji?! You live in the other direction!”

~~~

“Hey, (Y/n). Want to try doing the same thing with me?”

You look up, perplexed. Mikey literally just walked into the room, and that was the first thing he said to you.

“Do wha-?”

Your breath catches in your throat when you turn your head, only for you to come centimeters from bumping noses with him. And because he can, he lovingly knocks your foreheads together, too.

“It’s okay. I promise it’ll definitely be fun.”

You should feel ashamed for recognizing the same sequence of lines from Boku no Pico so quickly, though any coherent words are overtaken by an incomprehensible, high-pitched screech, a feat achieved solely by a teenage boy going through puberty.

A combination of shock and amusement crosses over Mikey’s features then. He’s never heard you make that sound before.

It’s cute. Strains the ears quite a bit, but cute.

While Draken lurks beside him, questioning Mikey’s standards of what constitutes as ‘cute,’ you’re sprinting across the room, red-faced, to Baji, who’s already grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Stop tainting my boyfriend, you piece of shit! Give him back his innocence!”

(Unbeknownst to you, whilst immersed in your fit of hysterics, your use of the word ‘boyfriend’ has a certain blond beaming.

“Did you hear that, Ken-chin? He called me his boyfriend.”

“Wow, congrats.”

Mikey either doesn’t give a shit or is simply too smitten to acknowledge Draken’s apathetic response.)

Baji blinks, unable to believe what you’re trying to insinuate. “Innocent? That little gremlin motherfucker?”

Both of you look in Mikey’s direction. When he sees you staring, he breaks out in a smile and throws a wave.

Your heart involuntarily skips a beat at the sight, and, okay, you’re convinced. Mikey deserves better than knowing of that cursed series’ existence.

Clearly, you’re down bad for Toman’s leader, and as such, Baji figures he can use that to quench his boredom for the day.

“Ooh, if only you knew what he gets off to.”

The tone in his voice instantly rouses suspicion. You narrow your eyes at him. “I don’t care what kind of porn he gets off to.”

“Porn? Nah, ya silly goose-”

“Don’t call me that.”

Baji ignores your comment as he moves to sling one arm around your shoulders, the other raising up to mimic an obscene tugging motion that no teenage boy is a stranger to.

“He jerks it to yo-”

BAM!

One second, Baji is lazily hanging off of your person, the next, he’s sprawled out on the floor, face down, and groaning in pain. You expect nothing less after witnessing him receive a rather impressive flying kick to the chest from Mikey.

Before you can assess the full damage, your view gets obscured by a pair of keys.

“Wanna take my bike out for a spin?”

Yes, you know Mikey is trying to divert your attention from whatever Baji was going to say, and, yes, you probably should check on the figure that has yet to get up.

But do you really care?

You take one glance at Baji’s concerningly unmoving body and quickly come to a conclusion.

You do not.

That being said, you quite literally drag Mikey and, by extension, Draken out of there, chanting an excited, “Let’s go!” on your way, abandoning Baji to wither on the ground.

Baji?

Baji feels betrayed.

~~~

"Chifuyu?”

“Hm?”

“Y’know, I was joking.” Baji flips onto his back with a grunt. “Man, who knew Mikey was all grown up?”

The vice captain of the first division hums, seemingly uninterested in his commander’s musings.

It goes quiet for a few minutes, the sole instigator of noise being Chifuyu flipping the pages of his manga.

Unpredictable is Baji, and the same goes for his train of thought.

“I should punch Mikey for kicking me.”

“No, you’d get beat up.”

“...”

“I should punch (Y/n) for Mikey kicking me.”

Truly, unpredictable and senseless.

“You’d still get beat up.”

Baji opens his mouth to argue.

“By Mikey.”

He promptly closes it.

“Fuck it. I’ll keep spicing up their relationship as payback.”

Sighing, Chifuyu closes his book to crouch down next to him. “Baji-san, with all due respect, you’re an asshole.”

Baji Keisuke has experienced betrayal twice today.

And he deserved it both times.