#i need them to understand the importance of having lots side by side

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I am not EVERY autistic person so this probably won't be a total coverage approach, but here's what I have learned:

People like to feel that you pay attention to and remember little but important things about them. And when someone is "small-talking" with you, it is often because they either want to offer you some of that info about themselves, or they want to pearn it about you so they can "return the effort". I think of it a bit like call and response with my cats! They don't understand me, and I don't understand them, but when I walk into the kitchen each morning, Lup runs towards me excitedly making her tiny little squeaks and trills. That's kitty small-talk! Many words of all varieties just say "I love you! I missed you! I'm happy to be here with you today!"

So I answer her! Sometimes I mimic her little sounds, and other times I pretend we're gossiping like church ladies (*gasp* NO, you're KIDDING, he said THAT?? What a scandal!") But whichever I do Lup gets excited and continues her little "conversation" with me.

People are harder. I had to really take time and practice different ways of responding before I found appropriate "call and response" for small talk, but I found that there are genuinely more options than you'd think. And the same thing happened! As I learned how to "call and respond" to small talk, I found that people would excitedly approach me to have it, and gradually we got to know each other enough that the "calls" coming from both sides got less general, more tailored to our personal preferences and interests, and I didn't have to small talk as much (but when I did it wasn't as scary either)

This isn't just my personal theory either! A fair amount of research in interpersonal/social in-group dynamics suggests that "bids for attention" like small talk function in this way of call-and-response intimacy/connection building. I have found that a LOT of social etiquette gets less scary to navigate when I at least understand the function of it. It also gave me some understsnding of why people might be hurt when I visibly don't WANT to "respond" to a "call" they've made: I'm the same way about my "calls" I just use different ones! The way I feel when I ask someone "would you want to hang out with me in the kitchen while I make lunch?" (Sad, a little anxious or vulnerable, maybe hurt if they've said no to a LOT of recent calls, etc) is the same way others feel when I decline theirs! That doesn't change if it was MISSED rather than DECLINED, but it can be repaired! Ao another thing I've taken to doing is naming for people the calls I have learned I'm most likely to miss. I know I have a hard time understanding/recognizing small talk as a call to attention, so I let people know that! And generally the people I connect best with are the ones who notice I missed a call and offer me an explicit/direct opportunity to reject it before internalizing what I've done as a rejection. This isn't really an option for everyone! And while I'm always delighted when someone is compatible with me in that way, I don't get upset if they're not, and work to not take it personally as something I'm doing wrong either.

Anyway, this got rambly at the end there, but the point is, most social interactions have a FUNCTION and while being autistic frequently means that we struggle to learn and interact in these systems as they currently exist, but that doesn't necessarily mean that we don't also depend on those functions. I think it can be easy to forget that part of the "disabling" effects of social/communication symptoms in autism is how it cuts us off from systems of support, care, and human interconectedness (things we still NEED) and it can matter to our quality of life to be able to find compatible alternatives to fulfilling those functions even if the original mechanism (small talk in this case) doesn't suit us.

Being bad at small talk doesn't mean you don't need friends, but it will probably make it very hard to MAKE friends. And we each and all deserve to decide for ourselves what to do about that.

I'm trying to figure out a good way to say "you really should actually learn the basics of small talk" with sounding like I'm biased against autistic people.

[itsnesss]

hey, are you willing to do a Myung-gi x read x jun hee where they both want her and are kind of fighting over her. thanks <3

𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | lee myung-gi & kim jun-hee × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | romantic tension, jealousy, slight arguments

word count | 0.6 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

You were sitting on the edge of your bunk, fiddling with a bracelet. You didn’t want to draw attention, but that seemed impossible with the two of them around.

Myung-gi was leaning against the wall, his frown as deep as always, but his eyes softened every time they landed on you. On the other hand, Jun-hee, with her short hair and confident attitude, sat on the bunk next to yours, pretending not to care about you, though her words cut like knives every time Myung-gi spoke to you.

“What are you doing there alone?” Myung-gi asked suddenly, stepping closer to you. His hands rested on the edge of your bunk.

“Nothing important, just… thinking,” you replied, trying not to hold his gaze for too long.

Jun-hee let out a sarcastic laugh from her spot. “Thinking, sure. Probably thinking about how much she wants to get out of here, not sit around listening to your nonsense, Myung-gi.”

He clenched his jaw, turning to Jun-hee. “And what would you know, Jun-hee? You’re always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

She stood up slowly, her posture steady. “I know more than you think, and I also know she doesn’t need you pretending to be her protector,” she said, motioning toward you with a tilt of her head. “She doesn’t need someone like you, Myung-gi.” It was obvious they had history.

The atmosphere grew tense. You felt the weight of their stares on you, but you didn’t want to intervene just yet. It was as if they were both trying to prove something that didn’t need proving.

“And what do you think she needs, Jun-hee?” Myung-gi shot back, stepping closer to her. His voice was filled with frustration. “Someone like you? Someone who only knows how to use sharp words to hide their own insecurity?”

Jun-hee narrowed her eyes, a sarcastic smile playing on her lips. “At least I don’t need to hide behind excuses to justify my choices, Myung-gi.”

“Enough!” you said, standing between them before things got out of hand. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

They both froze, their expressions shifting from anger to discomfort at your intervention.

“There’s no need for you two to fight over me. This isn’t another test; you don’t have to compete like my attention is some kind of prize,” you added, crossing your arms.

Myung-gi lowered his gaze, his expression softening. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Jun-hee, on the other hand, let out a chuckle. “Don’t worry. He’s the one taking things too seriously.”

You knew Jun-hee used sarcasm as a shield, but you also noticed a hidden vulnerability in her gaze.

...

As you returned to the common dorm, they both walked by your side, competing for your attention in more subtle ways.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt in the test?” Myung-gi asked, his concern evident.

“Of course she’s fine. She’s not as fragile as you think, Myung-gi,” Jun-hee interrupted, rolling her eyes. “But if she needs someone who actually understands her, I’m right here.”

You sighed, tired of the same dynamic. Suddenly, you stopped, turning to face them.

“Can you both stop?” you asked, your voice firmer than you expected. “I don’t need you to take care of me like I can’t do it myself.”

They both fell silent, surprised by your tone. Finally, Myung-gi nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Jun-hee crossed her arms, but her expression softened too. “Alright. Maybe… I went a little overboard.”

[author-main]

Welcome back to Author Takes the Romance out of Wrightworth just to Put It Back Later. The reason why I do this is because, I'm a relatively newer fan, haven't been here for super long. And I wanna share my thoughts and opinions as a fan who got into the games because of nrmt/mtnr. I (personally) think a lot of the meaning in the characters' dialog gets kinda lost in fanon. So today, I will discuss how:

Phoenix becoming a lawyer for Miles isn't THAT extreme when you learn how easy it was to "change his life" to do it.

By that, I mean... it wasn't THAT big of a change.

Point One: Phoenix did not change his entire college course for Miles, nor did he need to.

I should start with: becoming a lawyer is no joke, no matter where you live. But since I'm American, we'll follow the localization.

In the U.S. you're required to obtain your Juris Doctor (J.D.) to take the bar exam. What you need to start working towards a J.D. is any bachelor's degree. Phoenix was 21 and still an art major (April 2014), even after knowing for up to over a year (February 2013) that Miles was a prosecutor. He is said to have taken law classes, that could mean three things

Law electives

Law minor

double major

Note: The double major is the least likely in canon, because if that was the case, his character profile in 3-1 would've mentioned it.

Given the timeline of events, I believe that Phoenix was already a graduating senior at by the time of 3-1. Not a super important thought, just a "he's pretty much ready to get into a grad program anyway" thing.

Point Two: Larry Butz is his other reason in becoming a lawyer.

And not so many people ship them now do they? Most people either see Larry as just a friend to Phoenix, or they outright forget him (which is why I have to point him out NOW). Phoenix knew Larry for his entire life, longer than he knew Edgeworth. And he's the reason they all became friends in the first place. But he's even more important than just being the reason he and Miles became friends.

Phoenix wanted to show his gratitude to Miles and Larry in the exact same way, by defending them in court. This isn't romantic, this is wholly platonic. This is his way of showing how much they actually meant to him, how much their friendship meant to them. He's trying to show them what exactly they've done for him. They changed him as a person. Showed him that he should follow his convictions and intuition, to believe in people and defend them especially when the rest of the world is against them.

Point Three: "I'm the only one who knows the real Edgeworth": You NEED to pay attention to the entire conversation to understand why he said this. (though I obviously can't share it all here, but here are the most important parts for this post)

Probably the most seemingly obsessive part this of is: "He's in pain… And no one's on his side. I'm the only one who knows the real Edgeworth. I'm the only one who can help him." But you really need to actually consider what he's saying here. Phoenix knows that the world is cruel and that mob mentality can form no matter the demographic. He knows that whether it's a class of elementary school kids, or full-grown adults in suits and ties; if the world thinks you did it, you're discouraged from defending yourself. If the world thinks you did it, you'll start believing it too. If the world tells you to apologize and take responsibility, you're going to do it, even if what they accuse you of isn't true. And Phoenix knows what it's like to not be able to defend himself. He knows that he needs to defend the seemingly indefensible. That's why he became a defense attorney. That's what the class trial taught him, what Miles and Larry taught him.

"I'm the only one who knows the real Edgeworth." -> "I'm the only one who knows what it's like to be in Edgeworth's shoes and I know for a fact that he's innocent. I know that no matter what happened in the past, that he doesn't deserve this."

Extra: The other reason why I decided to write this is because of Xitter lurking

This was all part of a conversation but I'm only sharing my own opinions

[writing-nothing-but-spilled-ink]

Alright part 2 cause I need the serotonin this will involve Damian

Eventually after hours of work and vigilante shit getting done Jason aka redhood finally has some time to stop by and check on his kids safe houses though strangely he can't find any of them in they're usually places which is incredibly odd until he starts hearing lots of cheering and cooing coming from one of the side streets that lead to a dead end on one side of the abandoned alley.

What he finds when he walks over are the kids his kids in a circle surrounding a bunch of stray animals and some clearly abandoned animals, now Jason knows for a fact that these animals don't live in this part of town he's not adverse to feeding strays it's just he usually would notice the animals especially if he sees them frequently around Gotham and these aren't exactly what he'd call native to this part of town considering some of them looked freshly cleaned usually the strays would have dirty and muck allover there fur and paws covered in mud and the toxic rock salt solutions that have. Been used to prevent ice from covering the streets..

Eventually the kids then towards him with big hopeful eyes and says can't we keep them can't you take care of them I mean you said you just got a new safe house for everyone and that weird guy with the suit has been helping you take care of us we promise we'd train them well and keep them happy and fed and we'll walk them every day before and after school, WE COULD EVEN TRAIN THEM TO HELP YOU TAKE OUT BAD GUYS ESPECIALLY IF ANYMORE MEAN MEN COME AFTER US AGAIN...

Jason is taken aback he's never been in this situation before hell he can't even imagine Bruce or even Alfred in this situation he tried to think of what they'd do if faced with this decision but honestly both those options felt incredibly heartless, with a sigh he slowly pulled out his vigilante specific phone and looked at the weather for this week of Gotham and when he found that it'll be below freezing temperatures he found he couldn't say no at least not tonight, and maybe this could teach them some responsibility, but now here's the trouble what does he do if they decide they want the same pet he can't imagine theyd be willing to share one and animals tended to choose there owners as well ..

Eventually hood just sighed and goes, "alright guys you may take them inside get them warmed up and I'll see about getting some animal food and dog beds and blankets as well as cat toys, at least for this week since this whole week it'll be below freezing temperatures, beyond that I'm not sure if this is a good idea we're already on thin ice as it is especially with Gotham child services if they think for even a second any of you are living in filth with no supervision with an animal at that, one that could be labeled as dangerous or disease ridden I'm not sure that even Harvey would be able to bail us out this time so I want everyone to treat the next two weeks as a trial run show me your all adult enough to handle pet ownership, we're not putting them back out on the streets and we're definitely not going to allow anyone putting them to sleep if we cannot keep them i don't want any of you to be worried about that."

"Suzy you've recently been diagnosed with asthma and whole I have had you tested for allergies and it's all come back negative I want you to understand that in some people animal hair/fur can trigger your asthma quite badly, if that starts to happen I'd unfortunately be forced to take it away and re-home it and I'm not saying this to be cruel I'm saying this so you understand that your health is more important than owning a pet even if we love them dearly, though if that's the case whoever we rehome it to I'll ensure you'll be able to visit from time to time alright".

Each kid scoops up an animal one of which manages to pick up a fairly big pitbull and awkwardly waddles up the apartment complex stairs every now and. Again tilting ever so slightly to the side due to the weight of the animal meanwhile the entire time the dog seems to be happily drooling with it's great big pink tongue hanging out, a bunch of the younger kids have chosen to take in the kittens who seemed to be at least a year old, he's seen enough of Catwoman tending to stray cats over the years to recognize the older cats from the younger ones, one kid in particular seemed to have a fluffy bunny in one arm and a pug in the other, vaguely Jason felt as if he just opened a can of worms he was not qualified to deal with.. As the last of the kids and pets went inside he heard a crunching come from behind but when he turned around he saw no one

"Hey Todd it seems your delinquents have found my friends, I was taking them out for some air but they got away from me and when I was about to go out and look for them father had informed me that there's a new case he must work on and while he does so he needed me to patrol with dick, I had each of them chipped with my own specially designed microchips and tracked them to this location and I noticed your delinquents have taken a liking to them, maybe we can come to an acceptable agreement, your delinquents may keep and even care for my friends in exchange you allow me to teach them about the animals and proper animal handling and maybe this way they'll finally learn some culture, and you don't tell father I was bringing more friends to the manor".

"first off stop calling them delinquents they're good people, not soldiers, not delinquents, and most definitely not unworthy simply because they were born of lessor means, you don't see me dick or Bruce calling you an irredeemable monster that only cares for perfection simply because ra's is your grandfather, I thought you would've known better by now especially living In a place like Gotham and interacting with the people here, maybe Bruce has already failed you if this is how you see others of lesser means, I'm sure he'd be disappointed and so wouldn't dick".

...

Damian is caught off guard by how valiantly passionate Jason sounds when talking of those of lessor means, Damian did feel a bit of shame wash over him for calling the kids delinquents but how could he not feel this way they were all covered in dirt and muck and seemed to do nothing all day but chasing after an idiot like the red hood and not taking any real interest in creating a lasting legacy, or taking proper. Care if there appearances, it was barbaric how carefree they were running around, showing all those emotions, that was a weakness, a thing that could easily be exploited and used against you why couldn't they see that, why couldn't they see by openly running wild they were leaving themselves open to be hurt, it's dangerous to be this loud to take up this much space, they lacked discipline and-,..

Jason noticed that Damian's mood seemed to have changed from snarky know it all to his fake Bruce face the type of face Bruce would use when he's thinking really hard about a case but can't seem to quite crack the puzzle, and the type that usually resulted in bruce pulling out his own hair due to the stress and trauma, honestly in this moment Damian looked like a blank sheet in a sense facially it's a face he's seen before on other league members when a single free thought or word out of turn would lead to a severe physical punishment. Finally Damian looked up almost looking like a sad scared child honestly like Jason probably did when Bruce first found him all those years ago stealing tires off the batmobile, and running around the streets,

"Todd I... Apologize, the- .. your acquaintances aren't delinquents, but they are disorganized, and it's barbaric, I am concerned that them being so open will only lead them to painful lessons later on if they're not careful, though I see now it is not my place to intervene or say as much, but I'd still really like to teach them how to properly take care of my friends I also have treats for them"-..

"it's fine, you may teach them how to care for the animals if you wish, but please try not to go on for hours about the history of how they got here or there ancestors, they're not like you, so keep it simple at least at first and then if they have questions answer them as they arrive, they don't have access to real school or top educations like you or dick did, what they learn is mainly thanks to me and Alfred and a program that's slowly being implemented by the locals around here, alot of them are former teachers, midwives, ECT before they had to quit there jobs or leave due to active threats to they're safety, and they're helping us establish a small school for basic education and educational skills they'll need later in life, also I'd like for you to be prepared as they may make fun of the way you speak and your accent as there's not alot of people around here that speak like you".

Okay but like imagine Jason Todd living in Crime Alley and he has numerous safe houses in gotham some of witch just aren't for him and in fact are apartment complexes that he bought out for cheap possibly due to a little life-threatening scare by Red Hood and any time he's in crime alley and he notices that especially in the winter months that the kids are sick or don't have a dry place to live he just starts setting them up in the apartment complex, and none of the kids ever talk about where exactly that complex is because they love redhood... Also, I imagine that once a week Jason makes like a really big dinner and he just goes outside and serves it to the kids around crime alley, the kids all love him and feel safe with him. I imagine it gets to a point where if the kids are in danger or are worried or scared they just go running over to Red Hood some of the kids have taken to calling him dad, uncle, and other various family references.. And one day on the way back to one of his safe houses he just hears one of the younger street kids yelling dad and he turns to where its coming from and theres just this small kid holding another small kid in his arms and red's just like what happened and the kid just goes shes sick and idk what to do and red just kinda sighs and goes yeah alright follow me kid and he walks over to one of his main safe houses puts his bike away and gets the kids into the car but before continuing to the doc office he calls out through crime alley of if anyone's sick yall better come here i don't wanna do numerous trips and suddenly theres a small group of kids coming out of the shadows and he ushers them all into the car drives them all to gotham general and the receptionist doesn't bat an eye at the gaggle of sick kids or the fact redhood is checking them all in because he and the hospital have an understanding so he gets them all treated and seen and has to sit in with every nurse and doctor, at one point he gets a call from bruce asking why he's not on protrol and jason thinking nothing of it just goes i'm busy im at the hospital have dickface cover my patrol and then he hangs up to speak to the doctors and check on his kids..

bruce shows up at Gotham general just to find red surrounded by numerous children with various flu's colds coughs one of them has pneumonia and was just diagnosed with asthma and he's just taking notes while there's one child in his lap crying cause she's scared and he's just rocking her gently while writing down various treatment plans for each kid and what safe house he's putting them in because he'll be personally taking care of them... and one of the docs spot Bruce and is like excuse me mr. wayne you can't be back here patients only and redhood can be here because he's there acting guardian which makes Bruce's brain short-circuit entirely

Also alfred 100 percent knows about this and has helped red set up the rooms for the kids and everything and some of those big family dinners Jason has for the kids yeah he's using Alfred's recipes

How Jason got guardianship of these kids is because of Harvey dent he got the proper legal advice from Harvey

[ni-idea-07]

Pierced Little Bird.

Part 1. Part 2

TW: torture of minors, death of children, drowning, mild yandere But not as much as in the next installment, the Joker is a monster But Two Face tries to compete. In this chapter, the yandere theme will not be given as much relevance. English is not my first language.

-------

The Wayne mansion was quieter than usual. Bruce felt worse than ever and more alone than an abandoned dog in the middle of Christmas.

Dick was in Blüdhaven, Jason was still estranged from him –But at least on good terms–, Tim had taken a "break" since his father now knew that he was Robin. Stephanie had tried to take his place temporarily But that ended badly, so the place was left vacant for you

She promised not to have more Robins and wait for Tim to come back, but she couldn't. You offered so kindly after you defeated some robbers who robbed a woman leaving a nightclub, you were such an adorable young lady that you lit up the alley in which you practically cornered Batman –ironic–.

You were originally from Star City and had been Green Arrow's apprentice –yes, you had been Speedy–, something that helped Bruce accept you.

–"Please, Mr. Bat... I can be a good Wonder Girl" – you said with shining eyes, handing him a "curriculum vitae" detailing your skills as Green Arrow's former apprentice.

Bruce hesitated. He didn't want to drag another young girl into the dangerous life of vigilante, but your enthusiasm and determination broke through his defenses. And, although he wouldn't admit it, Alfred also played an important role.

–"Maybe just a few training sessions, but you won't use Bow and arrows." –Bruce yielded, while you jumped for joy.

Bruce trained you on a temporary basis, knowing that Tim would be back in a few months. However, he couldn't help but feel that something in his life was changing, especially seeing how you adapted to the role of Robin with such ease.

You were happy, too happy, and you loved being Robin. You were a good teammate, you knew how to defend yourself, and you followed every order to the letter, which gave you extra points.

Damn, Bruce adored you and would do anything to have a daughter like you and be able to be proud to say that you were his daughter. –You already had parents and that's why he couldn't adopt you–.

You were a very adorable and lively young woman, Dick adored you. You were an only child so you enjoyed being with Dick a lot, both of you were the "clown duo" according to Jason's nicknames. Even so, you also got along well with Jason, he was like the rebellious brother who talked back to Bruce. Jason also corrected your homework and you asked him what you didn't understand so you could finish it –if you didn't do your homework you wouldn't go out on patrol, it was an agreement you made with Bruce from day one–.

Although your parents loved you, their jobs left them little time for you. This, added to your need for attention and affection, made you more susceptible to the way Bruce was beginning to treat you, as if you were a daughter to him."

–"Look, Mr. Bat! With just one hand" you smiled as you hung from one of the bars in the Batcave gym.

–"I'll tell Dick not to teach you that anymore"– Bruce whispered more to him than to you.

While you were fully capable of taking care of yourself, that didn't stop him from overprotecting and pampering you.

Had you gotten hurt on patrol? Well, Dad Bruce would put a band-aid on you while telling you how well you had done. Yes, Bruce might not be a good father figure, but he loved being a father and couldn't help but break his walls with you.

During a mission, Scarecrow's toxin affected you severely. Bruce, worried, stayed by your side all night, holding you and whispering words to you. reassuringly as Alfred administered the cure. You fell asleep in his arms a little while later. But he woke you up two hours later to tell you to go back home so your parents wouldn't suspect anything.

Alfred, who had always been so reserved, found comfort in your presence at the mansion. He saw you as a spark of light in a home full of shadows, and every evening, when you came to greet him before leaving for the Batcave, he couldn't help but smile tenderly.

You had a big appetite so Alfred cooked a big meal for you after you got back from patrol.

When you missed patrol and the dinner Alfred had so lovingly prepared, Bruce felt hurt, like you had left him behind. He couldn't understand why you had decided to leave, even though he knew your parents needed you. The silent treatment he gave you that night was his way of dealing with the pain of seeing you leave, even though inside, he wished you were there, with him.

Your parents wanted to return to Star City, their previous home. However, upon arriving in Gotham, they couldn't help but feel trapped in the life they had chosen. You, on the other hand, didn't know if you wanted to leave anymore. Gotham had started to become your home, a place full of chaos but also of people who understood you in a way Star City never did.

One particular night you were on patrol with Batman, Two Face had recently escaped from Arkham and lately he had been imitating some of the Joker's "best" crimes.

This was ridiculous according to what Bruce had said, but somehow they had to stop him before he destroyed Gotham City. Still that night they couldn't see any trace of him.

It was a boring night, you were young and full of energy, you needed action. But it was already 4:00 AM and Batman sent you home. You needed to rest if you wanted to pass the exam tomorrow. Normally Bruce would take you in the Batmobile and leave you 5 blocks from the apartment where you lived with your parents, but tonight it wouldn't be necessary, the streets were quiet and although it was strange it was nothing to worry about, they both made sure of that.

But how wrong they were.

–"Help! Please someone help me!"– a woman screamed in an alley.

You ran until you reached the alley where you expected to find anything but what you found. The screaming woman was fine but as soon as you approached her, men twice your size grabbed you, one by each arm.

–"What's going on?"– you asked as you tried to free yourself.

–"I promise you that none of this is personal"– a man spoke who came out of the darkest part of the alley, it was Harvey Dent or rather Two Face.

You could only open your mouth before he put a taser to your neck. Everything was reduced to pain and you soon fell unconscious.

====================================

You woke up who knows how long later, you were on the ground with your wrists tied behind your back, your ankles were also tied.

You hurt all over, the disgusting bathroom only made you want to vomit and cry from helplessness. You were scared. You had fallen into a trap and you didn't even have time to fight.

A kick landed on your stomach leaving you breathless.

–"Are you awake?"– asked Two Face. –"Well, it's time to start, heads: I'll kill you after hitting you a little, tails: I'll let you go after a little torture."

The coin turned and landed on heads.

–"Alright, heads. Let's get on with it, Wonder Girl."

Another kick landed on your torso, you could only bend in place but still couldn't stop the torture that was coming.

–"You, turn on the camera, I want the bat to have a souvenir at the end of the day"– Harvey spoke to one of his henchmen while he was still kicking you.

You lost count of how many kicks he gave you, but you could barely breathe. Still, everything came to your mind, if Two Face discovered your identity he would go after your parents, your beloved parents. Then he would go after Bruce and soon the whole city would know Batman's identity and soon Nightwing's, Red Hood's, Oracle's and absolutely all the other vigilantes of Gotham, and even, if he investigated a little more he would discover the identities of all the heroes of the Justice League.

All that was what you thought in seconds, even imagining how Bruce would hate you after his identity was revealed.

But that was a stupid thought of yours. You didn't know it yet but Harvey would do everything to you except let you live.

You were scared, he tortured you a lot, he started by taking off your combat boots and ripping out your toenails.

–"I swear this is nothing personal, I even like you, but I can't let that stupid fifth-rate clown keep the achievement of having killed a Robin. It wouldn't be fair, right?"

You could barely think of your beloved parents and Bruce, even Oliver. All you could do was scream......

He got tired of hearing your screams and pleas, he grabbed a coin –"let's do this, heads: I'll cut your tongue out. Tails: I'll sew your mouth shut."

The coin was flipped and for your luck or bad luck it landed heads. The pain on your face was the first thing you felt, Harvey hit you in the face and then opened your tongue and grabbed it with his fingers and then cut it off with a knife.

The pain was too much that you couldn't even scream anymore, your body completely tensed up.

–"Oh, are you dead already?"– he laughed when he saw that you didn't even scream. –"I never thought that capturing a Robin would be so easy, I guess it's because you're just a child, a young and pathetic child. In fact, I have an idea....".

He smiled and took off your domino mask. You closed your eyes, the idea that he would know your name came to your mind, that he would do something to your parents and your friends.

–"Wow, I don't have the slightest idea who you are."

You practically let out a sigh of relief which didn't last long, Harvey began to fill the tub with water.

–"It was nice meeting you, wonder girl."– he mocked before grabbing your hair tightly and dragging you so that you were kneeling next to the tub.

His double face smiled before submerging your head in the water.

===================

Bruce had been worried, you hadn't shown up in days, nor did you show any signs of being sick. Your parents were also worried and they put up posters all over the city.

But you didn't show up.

One night Nightwing and Batman were able to catch Two Face but he just laughed when he saw that they still didn't know what had happened to you.

It wasn't until Bruce saw the tape that Harvey gave him.

Two full hours where he tortured you, hurting you, drowning you... until your small body stopped moving.

Bruce tried to figure out where it was and it wasn't hard to connect the dots and know that your missing body was still there.

The bathroom where they found you belonged to a horrible abandoned building. Rats had already eaten some parts of your body, your face had dried blood coming out of your mouth. Still, that didn't stop him from kneeling down and hugging your cold body.

The Wayne family was never the same. You were buried in Wayne Cemetery, Bruce, Dick, Oliver and Roy carried your coffin.

Your parents never found out about that, they never knew you had been found and buried.

Bruce couldn't allow your parents to bury you in Star City or somewhere else where he couldn't visit you daily.

Soon Tim took up the mantle of Robin again before Damian arrived a year later and became the new Robin.

Still, the family was worse than ever.

Dick came over from time to time and still waited for the silly and innocent jokes you made, he got depressed when he saw you weren't coming back.

Jason was almost off the radar, after all, he only came to the mansion because you always found a way to bring him back and after Jason killed Two Face by dismembering him, Bruce didn't want to talk to him anymore.

Tim was also depressed, he had lost Stephanie, his father, and you. But Stephanie reappeared as Spoiler.

Those were the worst years for Bruce, another loss. He couldn't protect you and tortured himself daily watching the video of your torture.

Many times Alfred found Bruce sleeping in front of your tombstone.

–"Sir, Master Damian is waiting for you for dinner. You don't want your pasta to get cold" Alfred said as he found Bruce watching the video again.

–"I'm not hungry" he answered, repeating the video again.

–"Miss Y/N didn't like you skipping dinner, especially if there was company."

Bruce sighed and stood up, ready to face his new son. He was still trying to get used to having a biological son.

Dinner was silent, Bruce didn't want to talk, much less eat.

–"Whose room is next to mine?"– Damian asked.

Bruce didn't know how to answer, it was the room he made for you after you died, one where he had recreated each of the things you liked. He was still waiting for you to come back, he wasn't ready to let you go.

–"it's for Y/N....."

There was a small silence, Damian already knew who you were since he had found some photos that you had taken with Dick, both of you making silly and expensive poses. He knew the pain you had caused by dying.

–"mm...."

Suddenly there was a series of knocks on the large door of the mansion. That made Bruce go on alert, he wasn't expecting visitors and to get to the mansion you had to go through the large main gate first. In any case the intruder alarm should have gone off.

Bruce approached the door as did Alfred. And the latter was the one who opened the door with caution.

Alfred was in shock as soon as he saw who it was and then turned his head to where Bruce was.

–"sir.....you won't believe it"

-------------------

Ugh, I've been thinking about this for a long time and I hope I've expressed myself correctly.

If you have any questions or want more information, don't hesitate to ask.

I am still working on open orders, please leave me your request and I will be happy to fulfill it.

Regards 🫠

[quibbs126]

Something that’s been bothering me, in Cyberverse Season 1 we hear about the Decepticon cause being made because Megatron wanted to fight against and change the corruption on Cybertron

But like, we never actually saw any of that in the flashbacks. Best you can say is Starscream having a high opinion of himself due to being a jet (or at least that’s what I think was going on? It was something about Starscream and being a jet), but you can also assume Starscream’s just being an ass, not that this is a systemic issue on Cybertron. Outside of that, everyone seems to have been doing fine, they got along and everyone was vibing and having fun, going to Cube games and chilling at Maccadam’s, going out to do some racing on a vacation to Velocitron

I do suppose we were limited to only seeing things that Bee witnessed himself, but he was there for other important events before war was declared, we could have seen some more evidence that things were bad on Cybertron before the war and why Megatron and Optimus were so intent on changing things

As it is, it feels more like telling and not showing, and I don’t really understand why the Decepticon cause was needed in the first place. Well I mean I do, but that’s because I know the story in other continuities, not because Cyberverse told me

And if I can pivot slightly, I feel like this is an issue in other shows as well. Earthspark barely went into the backstory of the war at all, only making vague allusions like the “lower-class” remark and Orion Pax getting the Matrix (which honestly I don’t remember why he got at all and if it was related to the war). And yes, Earthspark was about moving forward after the war, but also the show wanted to portray Decepticons in a more neutral light, allowing them their second chances to do better after the war. Not to mention Megatron switching sides due to realizing how far he’d strayed from his original cause. I don’t feel like telling the Terrans the original causes of the war would be out of question, it makes all the sense. Also if we’re trying to portray the Decepticons as not being pure evil, explaining the horrible conditions that drove them to starting it would do wonders. Megatron is here, he can tell the Terrans with all the correct info if the Autobots can’t

Prime also has this problem, but I’m willing to give it a lot more leeway because it was part of the Aligned continuity, which was made up of more than just this one show, and Transformers Exodus I’m told went into this backstory a lot more. So okay, it’s explained somewhere. Though personally, I wish we went into this backstory a bit more in the actual show, because all I know from it was that Megatron was a gladiator fighting for change, Orion Pax met him and agreed, then they proposed their ideas for change to the Senate and it caused them to split. I don’t actually know why they were fighting for change. Again, I know Exodus did and it was around at the same time as the show, but we don’t all have access to Exodus. And honestly it might be the reason the other shows don’t go into it much either, despite it being the only one with an excuse

Like I think this annoys me because it feels like the shows expect you to know the general backstory so we don’t have to go into it. But you’re supposed to tell us this, especially when this isn’t like Batman or Superman’s origins where everyone knows the backstory of the war

I know what the backstory is, but not because these shows told me. It’s because Emperor Kumquat told me in a YouTube video where he was explaining the Aligned backstory from Exodus, while making the point that people who only watched Prime wouldn’t know all of this. How was I supposed to know this information if I hadn’t?

And to go back to Cyberverse, I can make excuses for Prime and Earthspark; both were set long after the war started and Prime especially didn’t have much reason to go into it outside of what it did. But not only did Cyberverse have the means to show us corrupt pre-war Cybertron vis Bumblebee’s flashbacks in Season 1, it had at least a little leaning to making the Decepticons more sympathetic. They are still for the most part antagonistic, but it did make the point that Optimus originally agreed with Megatron, we had bots on both sides getting along during peace talks and Windblade being angry at Slipstream’s killer, had most of the main threats not be Megatron’s forces that had the two sides forced to team up, and by the latter half of Season 3, had Megatron be more heroic, with him saving the day from the Quintessons and wielding his own Matrix of Leadership, and working to stop the other him that he knows is coming to reclaim his Matrix. They aren’t at Earthspark Season 1’s level, but they weren’t making the Decepticons pure evil either. So I feel like we should really see what it is they were fighting for originally

[centrally-unplanned]

I don't have any strong objections to the top half so I will focus on the bottom half:

Pushing trans right discourse onto the space of trans sports is very useful if you are hoping to make factional gains in trans sports, but it's not very useful otherwise. The reason the anti-trans movement is focused there is simply because they're trying to win one fight at a time in the order of what's easiest.

I think this is false - obviously the median person is acting with very little coordination, but there is some, both "actively" at higher levels and through the inherent human instinct of "knowing how to win a debate" - it is a decently universal skill, a lot of human coordination happens in this decentralized way of picking up on social cues and the like. People on the anti-trans side have actively pushed the conversation into the territory of the least-popular topics because it negatively codes the entire discussion (people are emotional, affect spills over), and because in many competitions like elections the winner-takes-all and so it isn't about what someone believes across topics but instead about "what is front of mind". (I think a lot of left-media-style orgs in the same space were happy to play along with this because their focus was on winning intra-coalitional fights, but w/e, let's stay focused)

You seem to be understanding this is a distractionary tactic on their part, or that this one battle "stands in" for the broader war, and this isn't really the case -- you can't use the trans sports thing to sell more extreme measures like the ones you've held up as an alternative, because the far lower importance of that issue means that it's trivial to mount a defense in depth.

I think you just lived through them actively doing precisely that distraction! They don't need to "sell" the more extreme measures, they won, they are doing it, right now. Maybe that will bite them in 4 years, sure, but that is future-them's problem. You can get into the wisdom of that, but I think it is clear that regardless of how wise it is that is what many were definitely doing.

(Though, to be clear, distraction is reductionist - it was both an active concern at the object-level and also a framing tactic, most things are more than one thing. This, to be clear, is something everyone does in most topics - despite my disapproval of the goals there is nothing exceptional in this dynamic, just that the efficacy "this time around" was very high.)

Really getting flashbacks to the gay rights era, where the talking points used to justify anti-gay discrimination were just transparently nonsensical but people just really kept repeating them.

"The purpose of marriage is to have kids so that's why we can't let gays marry"

"So, we should also ban infertile people from getting married?"

"No, because an infertile man and a woman might be able to have kids if they hypothetically became fertile so it's okay for them to get married."

????

Okay, I mean, if we're just imagining an arbitrary change in reality gay couples could have kids if one of them suddenly changed sex, I don't see how "If they could have kids, they could have kids" makes any more sense for one couple than the other.

Same with the transparent nonsense of "In biological reality there are only two sexes"

I mean... There are more than two arrangements of sex characteristics in biological reality.

"Yes but it is an indisputable biological reality that only two of those arrangements count and the rest don't."

Yeah I feel like that's a taxonomy, not a "biological fact".

[silentgrim]

will never understand how you’d make a world with such a large map and only include 13 lots

[spacedlexi]

speaking of fucked up overly hated female twdg characters i find it Super Interesting how people will say carver was the best villain in the whole series, but when lilly is literally just a successful carver (iron fist leader of a community turning children into soldiers) suddenly shes a bad/lame villain for some reason 🤔

[lord-squiggletits]

Between TF and my other fandoms like BG3 and TES, I keep finding myself making OCs that have some element of "battle hardened hero who is actually good and righteous, but so traumatized by the toll of war that even after the war ends they feel empty/wrecked and can't enjoy the fruits of victory" and I'm not sure if it's bc I gravitate to a certain type of media where such OCs fit in best, or bc I have a specific character archetype I like and gravitate towards media that contains those things.

[writing-nothing-but-spilled-ink]

Alright part 2 cause I need the serotonin this will involve Damian (this is part 2 to redhood taking care of the kids in crime alley)

Eventually after hours of work and vigilante shit getting done Jason aka redhood finally has some time to stop by and check on his kids safe houses though strangely he can't find any of them in they're usually places which is incredibly odd until he starts hearing lots of cheering and cooing coming from one of the side streets that lead to a dead end on one side of the abandoned alley.

What he finds when he walks over are the kids his kids in a circle surrounding a bunch of stray animals and some clearly abandoned animals, now Jason knows for a fact that these animals don't live in this part of town he's not adverse to feeding strays it's just he usually would notice the animals especially if he sees them frequently around Gotham and these aren't exactly what he'd call native to this part of town considering some of them looked freshly cleaned usually the strays would have dirty and muck allover there fur and paws covered in mud and the toxic rock salt solutions that have. Been used to prevent ice from covering the streets..

Eventually the kids then towards him with big hopeful eyes and says can't we keep them can't you take care of them I mean you said you just got a new safe house for everyone and that weird guy with the suit has been helping you take care of us we promise we'd train them well and keep them happy and fed and we'll walk them every day before and after school, WE COULD EVEN TRAIN THEM TO HELP YOU TAKE OUT BAD GUYS ESPECIALLY IF ANYMORE MEAN MEN COME AFTER US AGAIN...

Jason is taken aback he's never been in this situation before hell he can't even imagine Bruce or even Alfred in this situation he tried to think of what they'd do if faced with this decision but honestly both those options felt incredibly heartless, with a sigh he slowly pulled out his vigilante specific phone and looked at the weather for this week of Gotham and when he found that it'll be below freezing temperatures he found he couldn't say no at least not tonight, and maybe this could teach them some responsibility, but now here's the trouble what does he do if they decide they want the same pet he can't imagine theyd be willing to share one and animals tended to choose there owners as well ..

Eventually hood just sighed and goes alright guys you may take them inside get them warmed up and I'll see about getting some animal food and dog beds and blankets as well as cat toys, at least for this week since this whole week it'll be below freezing temperatures, beyond that I'm not sure if this is a good idea we're already on thin ice as it is especially with Gotham child services if they think for even a second any of you are living in filth with no supervision with an animal at that, one that could be labeled as dangerous or disease ridden I'm not sure that even Harvey would be able to bail us out this time so I want everyone to treat the next two weeks as a trial run show me your all adult enough to handle pet ownership, we're not putting them back out on the streets and we're definitely not going to allow anyone putting them to sleep if we cannot keep them i don't want any of you to be worried about that."

"Suzy you've recently been diagnosed with asthma and whole I have had you tested for allergies and it's all come back negative I want you to understand that in some people animal hair/fur can trigger your asthma quite badly, if that starts to happen I'd unfortunately be forced to take it away and re-home it and I'm not saying this to be cruel I'm saying this so you understand that your health is more important than owning a pet even if we love them dearly, though if that's the case whoever we rehome it to I'll ensure you'll be able to visit from time to time alright".

Each kid scoops up an animal one of which manages to pick up a fairly big pitbull and awkwardly waddles up the apartment complex stairs every now and. Again tilting ever so slightly to the side due to the weight of the animal meanwhile the entire time the dog seems to be happily drooling with it's great big pink tongue hanging out, a bunch of the younger kids have chosen to take in the kittens who seemed to be at least a year old, he's seen enough of Catwoman tending to stray cats over the years to recognize the older cats from the younger ones, one kid in particular seemed to have a fluffy bunny in one arm and a pug in the other, vaguely Jason felt as if he just opened a can of worms he was not qualified to deal with.. As the last of the kids and pets went inside he heard a crunching come from behind but when he turned around he saw no one

"Hey Todd it seems your delinquents have found my friends, I was taking them out for some air but they got away from me and when I was about to go out and look for them father had informed me that there's a new case he must work on and while he does so he needed me to patrol with dick, I had each of them chipped with my own specially designed microchips and tracked them to this location and I noticed your delinquents have taken a liking to them, maybe we can come to an acceptable agreement, your delinquents may keep and even care for my friends in exchange you allow me to teach them about the animals and proper animal handling and maybe this way they'll finally learn some culture, and you don't tell father I was bringing more friends to the manor".

"first off stop calling them delinquents they're good people, not soldiers, not delinquents, and most definitely not unworthy simply because they were born of lessor means, you don't see me dick or Bruce calling you an irredeemable monster that only cares for perfection simply because ra's is your grandfather, I thought you would've known better by now especially living In a place like Gotham and interacting with the people here, maybe Bruce has already failed you if this is how you see others of lesser means, I'm sure he'd be disappointed and so wouldn't dick".

...

Damian is caught off guard by how valiantly passionate Jason sounds when talking of those of lessor means, Damian did feel a bit of shame wash over him for calling the kids delinquents but how could he not feel this way they were all covered in dirt and muck and seemed to do nothing all day but chasing after an idiot like the red hood and not taking any real interest in creating a lasting legacy, or taking proper. Care if there appearances, it was barbaric how carefree they were running around, showing all those emotions, that was a weakness, a thing that could easily be exploited and used against you why couldn't they see that, why couldn't they see by openly running wild they were leaving themselves open to be hurt, it's dangerous to be this loud to take up this much space, they lacked discipline and-,..

Jason noticed that Damian's mood seemed to have changed from snarky know it all to his fake Bruce face the type of face Bruce would use when he's thinking really hard about a case but can't seem to quite crack the puzzle, and the type that usually resulted in bruce pulling out his own hair due to the stress and trauma, honestly in this moment Damian looked like a blank sheet in a sense facially it's a face he's seen before on other league members when a single free thought or word out of turn would lead to a severe physical punishment.

Finally Damian looked up almost looking like a sad scared child honestly like Jason probably did when Bruce first found him all those years ago stealing tires off the batmobile, and running around the streets,

"Todd I... Apologize, the- .. your acquaintances aren't delinquents, but they are disorganized, and it's barbaric, I am concerned that them being so open will only lead them to painful lessons later on if they're not careful, though I see now it is not my place to intervene or say as much, but I'd still really like to teach them how to properly take care of my friends I also have treats for them"-..

"it's fine, you may teach them how to care for the animals if you wish, but please try not to go on for hours about the history of how they got here or there ancestors, they're not like you, so keep it simple at least at first and then if they have questions answer them as they arrive, they don't have access to real school or top educations like you or dick did, what they learn is mainly thanks to me and Alfred and a program that's slowly being implemented by the locals around here, alot of them are former teachers, midwives, ECT before they had to quit there jobs or leave due to active threats to they're safety, and they're helping us establish a small school for basic education and educational skills they'll need later in life, also I'd like for you to be prepared as they may make fun of the way you speak and your accent as there's not alot of people around here that speak like you".

[carmen-berzattos]

#this is a perspective I’ve only seen from people who truly think broadly and sympathetically about life#like he’s literally right I’m sorry and people who aren’t white or cis or straight learn so so SO early that your existence is political#not inherently but because white cishet men have crafted society in a way it’s impossible for it not to be#and ignoring that isn’t going to make you ascend above it god I’m so tired of having to explain that to people#I’m tired of people’s experiences in both places of privilege and place of oppression being used to scapegoat what we all can see#like look at his example!#‘going out for a dance on a Saturday night’ means something different if you’re poor if you’re gay if you’re a racial minority#’walking into a shop’ who owns it how often do you go is it a big box store or a small owned business is it walkable#there’s pOLitiCs in all of that! in ever aspect of your life!#ESPECIALLY if you take your life experiences and turn them into art of any form (via @twentyfour-mp3)

[arolesbianism]

I love drawing Aris as sif so much she's so cutsies. It almost makes up for the horrors of having to draw her as sif. Almost.

[dunmesh]

okay i don't have anything smart to add i just genuinely love that these seemingly trivial jokes are actually an important part of his character. we see it throughout the entire manga, how he pushes aside his own frustration and discomfort to accommodate everyone else's and avoid needless confrontation- another example off the top of my head would be the barometz chapter in which he slowly gets frustrated with izutsumi but still tries his best to talk some sense into her calmly and soundly.

and in contrast, there are very few times he expresses his anger and hurt towards others, and it usually takes a lot for him to finally lose his patience and control.

i mean, even with kabru he tried to be polite despite the circumstances until the guy said the one thing that triggers an immense sense of shame, hurt and rage in laios. and you know, the manga does say it quite clearly early on. when we are introduced to namari and then to shuro, laios acts all friendly and shows his respect and trust in them despite how things ended between them, and everyone else gets frustrated with him for acting so strange- why are you the one who tries so hard to pacify the rest when you should be the angriest?

and they don't understand him. they don't know him well enough to be able to understand, but we as readers get to see during the manga that they aren't wrong to question him- he does, in fact, feel all those ugly emotions. and it's when the winged lion finally confronts him that we see to what extent these feelings he buried so deep go, and suddenly all those funny little moments where he sometimes pretends to be mr nice guy speak volumes about his character. honestly, ryoko kui is a master at using jokes in order to define important character traits and this one doesn't fail to amaze me.

and laios's hatred and rage and deep scars he can't get over aren't shown explicitly during most of these moments i mentioned before, but now you realize there are 26 years of emotional baggage to all of them and they sting. he is angry but he can't say shit, what difference would it make? it won't make his friends choose him instead of themselves when he needed them most, and it won't help his party get any farther. of course, this logic doesn't apply to them- they are absolutely allowed to get angry and it's fine to get mad at him, he can take that.

so after finishing the series it's so clear that he tries his best to avoid clashing with others not just due to the current circumstances and him needing to be a reliable leader but also because he knows that people don't even like him when he tries to show his good sides and hide all the rest, so who the hell would tolerate his rage and despair? who would stay after realizing that he is so deeply flawed he doesn't even like his own being?

but he does get mad. he can't help it, and sometimes it gets out of control and now everyone knows. and it's funny, isn't it? that most of those moments ended up bringing him closer to others. shuro admitting he is envy of him and actually becoming the friend laios thought he was all along, fighting for his sake and waiting for him to come back- believing in him even after he turned into a monster and searching for him the way he couldn't bring himself to do for falin when he learned of what became of her- or kabru being pushed to just let it all out because he couldn't bluff his way out of this one and get to laios any other way, so now they are even. they are both horribly honest with each other and they both choose to stay. a weird way of getting to know each other, but it is what it is.

it's simply... the more laios let himself just be, the deeper his relationships grew. and there's intimacy in being your ugly, weak and furious self around someone and them not leaving you. feeling safe enough to let it be known you are hurt and angry. and he knows that now, too.

[unknownmads]

CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT INMATE TOJI AND CUTE LITTLE Y/N WHOS SO NAIVE TO BIG BAD TOJI

CW: Slight smut (mentions of his pp🤭)

☆☆☆

thinking about Prison toji who you met when your college has you do a little project in your criminal psychology class. The project was make a penpal get to know them ask why they are in prision, what their lives before was like, do they regret what they did etc. basic questions of course all you had to do was get the most information out of the penpal about their personal lives as you could.

Prison Toji who only signed up for the program because it was part of his latest court order saying he ‘needed more understanding’ so a penpal would give him a friend while they stay safe😭 he ofc hated the idea and thought it was the dumbest shit ever. until he got his first letter, from you (duh).

Prison toji who got mail for the first time and it was a little white envelope with a cute little sticker sealing it. He deadpanned *is my penpal an idiot these letters are for a prison not a daycare* he silently judges examining every detail as he opened the letter. i read the letter taking in every little personal detail you shared with him, your cute little name, how you loved your cat, how you’re new to the city only just moving for school, of course the boring questions for him as well. But at the very end of the letter he noticed an extra little note.

Ps. i left a few photos of myself along with some of my cat! i think it’s only fair since i got to see your photo on the website

Prison toji who grabs the envelope he previously had thrown to the side and pulls out 3 polaroids. One of you and probably your cat you’re dragging it into the photo with a big grin on your face. the second is a photo of your face a soft smile on your lips meant for whoever took the photo but Toji couldn’t help but wonder if that little smile was for him. Until he pulls out the third photo it’s a full view of you, you’re out in the city dressed all out, and Toji couldn’t help but know you chose that photo just for him.

Prison Toji who can’t wait to finally get some alone time so he can truly appreciate your pretty photos. And immediately goes to write you back answering all your cute little questions. Telling you where he lived before, how he ended up there, telling you what he did for work before (Surprise he sold drugs😍), telling you what he does to occupy his time here (he works out he just wanted an excuse to tell you how strong he is), and he asks you some questions.

Prison Toji who has been relentlessly flirting with since you started writing to him, asking if you had a boyfriend, how your school was going, why you moved to the city, how a cute lil thing like you is still single. You had been writing each other for a few weeks now which is a lot less than you think when you know how long mail takes. But your letters to each other are long. answering every little thing each other asks, learning about one another more and more. You had really connected so you finally ask him the big question he read the words as clear as day.

~Do you think i could come pay you a visit? ~

Prison Toji who had to immediately write back answering the most important question first.

~ And doll, you can come visit me anytime id love to finally meet you and see your pretty face in person~

he wanted to be nonchalant.

Prison Toji who was sitting in bed looking at your photos when he was called

“Zenin, you’ve got a visitor. away from the door.”

Prison Toji silently followed standing on the other side of the cell while the guard came in to handcuff him and bring him to the visiting area. Once he was in the room his cuffs connecting him to the table he waited. until he heard the door open again. He felt his cock twitch in his pants as he saw the guard guide you in. You were wide eyed taking in the new environment until they landed on him.

Prison Toji was large, you knew he was tall and muscular thanks to his letters and photo but nothing could have prepared you for the real deal. Eyes widening even more when you fully take him in. seated At the grey metal table his hands on the table as the guard had told him to. his hair poking at his eyes which were staring drinking you in. his lip in a smirk helping you notice the scar on it which you couldn’t really see from the grainy prison photos. His shirt stretched against his muscles showing off a few tattoos hidden along his skin. the view making you squeeze your thighs together to release some of the pressure building.

Prison Toji who took in as much of you as he could as he watched you shuffle into your seat across from him, enjoying how you squirmed slightly within his gaze, his smirk growing into an almost full smile.

“hey doll it’s good to finally meet you.”

[julymusings]

you're good to me, baby

with the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet, like the ashes of ash i saw rise in the heat. settle soft and as pure as snow, i fell in love with the fire long ago.

or; because the red hood bleeding onto your living room carpet is exactly what you need right now [3.6k]

Jason Todd x fem!reader; based on this lovely ask; ngl this turned into a personal vent jason doesn't show up until 1k words in LMAO; warning there’s blood (duh) and reader is suggested to have heavy anxiety; pre-established relationship where reader doesn’t know his identity + muzzle red hood bc HOT

Compartmentalize. Create baskets in your mind. Analyze the situation, and drop the corresponding emotion in the appropriate basket.

One: You had a fight with your best friend. She called you selfish because you weren’t enthusiastic about her new relationship. She just can’t seem to understand that no matter how happy you want to be for her, it’s painful to see everyone find safety in another person when you can’t. Every attempt at romance is squashed by something or the other that you keep doing wrong. I thought you were hot, your latest dating attempt had said when you ran into him and asked why he never texted back. But you’re kind of a lot. Not something I have the space for right now, you know?

Two: There’s an important presentation today, one that could determine the fate of your position in the company. Your coworker, the one who’s convinced you stole his promotion (he just flirted with the higher-ups while you actually completed the requirements), refuses to let you forget how much is at stake. All it takes is one misstep, one stutter, one hesitation, and he will take it as an excuse to demand your demotion— or worse, termination. You’ve been preparing for this presentation for three weeks. If after all that effort it’s still not good enough, maybe you should be fired.

The emotions here? Frustration. Anger. Exhaustion. Jealousy. Just to name a few. But there’s no time to dwell on anxieties right now, so you shove those thoughts aside. Drop them in their compartments and move on because, after all, if you can strip them down to their bones and find where they stem, you can yank those anxieties from the ground before they have the chance to root. And then there’s no need for unnecessary heartache, right?

(Who cares if the baskets are overflowing, crumpled fragments spilling over the sides like garbage in a landfill? Who cares if the room of your mind is so packed that you’re pressed against the wall and breathing becomes painful.)

The digital clock beside your bed reads 6:12. The numbers blink in and out of the window, their red dots and dashes taunting your heavy eyelids. You still have forty-eight minutes of peace before it will scare you awake. Its beeping will ring so loud and angry that the adrenaline from the startle will power you through your morning routine, and your beating heart won’t dare still to entertain wishes of just five more minutes. 6:13 now. You have forty-seven more minutes of peace, minutes which should be spent sleeping, giving your poor brain a break from itself. But you can’t. Every time you close your eyes and begin to sink below the level of consciousness, your heart pumps a house-special cocktail of cortisol that laces through your bloodstream and convinces you that if you fall asleep you will miss your presentation and you will get fired. The off-grid escape plan formulating in your head switches from hypothetical to tentative when your neighbors, apparently awoken to lust as well as tired by it, start going at it again. You want nothing more than to bang on their door and scream obscenities until they hate each other enough to never touch again, but you resign yourself to consciousness, giving up on the dream of what would now be forty-four more minutes of sleep. 

It’s Friday morning; only one more day to get through before the sweet release of the weekend finds you. (The whole weekend will be spent contemplating the start of a project, feeling like two days is not nearly long enough to complete anything, and dreading Monday until it finds you with nothing done and the same, endless cycle awaiting.)

After completing your morning routine 44 minutes early, you use the spare time to go through your presentation once more, just for good luck, wrapping up the third run-through just in time to hear your alarm to leave for work.

The presentation goes decent, at least well enough to quell any doubts about your ability to do your job. Your coworker ate his words for sure, and you might have enjoyed the look on his face had you not mentally checked out as soon as you finished your closing remarks. Rush hour traffic has the ice cream tub you bought at the convenience store dripping condensation all over the passenger’s seat and your hips hurt from being in the same sitting position for most of the day, but you remind yourself that peace is only a few miles out. Stopped at yet another red light, your grip tightens on the steering wheel. Breathe in. Breathe out. The line of cars starts to move forward.

When you get home, your frustration is close to boiling over. You kick off your shoes right at the door, your keys and bag following close behind.

Far be it from you to break down on the floor in the middle of the room, the plan begins to formulate. There’s a box of tissues on your desk– that can go on the nightstand, along with two of the chilled water bottles you keep in the fridge for after you work out. And you’ll need something for the tissues, right? The small wastebasket from the bathroom should be fine. You drag it over to the side of your bed, sitting in your usual spot to make sure you placed it at a reachable distance. You won’t want to get out of bed to wash your face after this, so a washcloth should go next to the tissues. And an extra one, just to be safe.

You keep a set of comfortable clothes ready, the nicest, softest pajamas you own that you only wear after an everything shower. This shower, however, is a quick one, not much more than a few minutes under scalding water to comfort you, if nothing else. The light pink pajamas are a high-quality cotton and you feel like you’re in the clouds when you slip into them. Remaining is the ice cream, which you set out on the counter right before your shower so it would thaw just enough to be soft but not melted, With everything in your room ready, you go to retrieve the ice cream but stop with a startle when you round the corner.

“Jesus,” you mumble.

He’s just sitting there, doing nothing except bleeding out on your cream-colored carpet. He’s spread out on the couch like he owns the place, head leaned back against the wall as he lets his injured arm hang over the armrest and drip blood and dirt onto your cream-colored rug. The liquid seeps into the expensive wool, staining it with reddish-brown hues and the scent of iron, and he doesn’t even notice.

“Hey.” The Red Hood lifts his head when he sees you.

On any other day, you’d be quick to action, hauling him up off the couch and sprinting for the first aid kit under the bathroom sink. Today, your arms are too heavy and your gaze remains rooted on the widening splotch of red against white. Your throat feels dry. “You’re getting blood on the carpet.”

He peers over the armrest. “Oh, shit,” he curses, lifting his arm to hover it over his lap. He sounds robotic through his muzzle mask. His hood, pulled down to reveal his thick black hair curling at the ends from humidity and sweat, rests on his back.

I don’t have time for this, is what you want to say. You want to scream it in his face and kick him out for having the audacity to think he can come and go as he pleases, that you’re nothing more than a drive-through emergency room who will drop everything if he gets so much as a paper cut. But you can’t say any of this, and you do want him to come to you whenever he needs help. God knows he won’t go anywhere else.

Holding back your heavy sigh, you wordlessly walk to the bathroom. He takes that as an invitation to follow. 

It’s clinical. Rehearsed. Neither of you speak. It’s a partnered dance long since committed to muscle memory, steps you can take in your sleep. He knows to seat himself on the step stool you got just for him, for nights like these. He knows where to find the first aid kit and which supplies to hand you first. You know the exact steps to follow. Check the palms for abrasions. Antiseptic to the lacerations. Concussion exam. 

Maybe he can sense the air of tension surrounding you, because he doesn’t say as much as he usually does (though, granted, it’s still not much). It’s a reflection of your dynamic several months earlier when this arrangement began, back before you’d managed to chip away at the surface of his rough exterior. You notice the way his fingers curl against his thighs when you, somewhat carelessly, wipe the dirt from his skin with more pressure than necessary and the way his eyebrows tilt inward when you work slower than usual. You notice, but you ignore it.

We both know you have at least a dozen people who could do this for you. The words echo in your mind. Don’t act like I owe you this. If anything, you owe me a new carpet. These are things you wish you could say, but never will. Being realistic, you’ll probably never be able to say things like this. You’ll be subjected to all the shitty coworkers and unsympathetic friends and exploitative vigilantes of the world for the rest of your life.

This isn’t his fault, you remind yourself, but still, your lips turn down and your jaw feels tight with the effort to keep your face still, to not burst into tears right on the spot. In the second it takes for you to calm yourself, your hands pause. He notices. He says nothing. 

It’s not until you’re finished with cleaning the blood from his arm wound and giving him a wad of gauze to hold against it that he tests the waters and asks, “Is it too bad?” 

He sounds automated, but over the last few months, you’ve learned a thing or two about reading even these robotic actions. There's a certain quietness to the beginning of his sentence like he’s debating if he should say it or not. 

“It’s fine,” you say, shortly. 

“Sorry about your rug,” he says. He tugs at the strap of his muzzle with one finger, rubbing at the skin underneath the leather. “I can get the stain out.”

You retrieve the needle and thread from the kit and don’t respond. You don’t even look at him.

After a moment’s hesitation, he continues. “It’s easy. You just need salt and—”

“Okay.”

He goes quiet.

You don’t mean to be so tetchy, but you don’t have the energy for anything more. Every little thing has you feeling on the edge of shattering. It’s too much. It’s all too much.

It’s when you’re kneeled at his side, staring into the gaping wound on his bicep and trying to thread the needle, fingers trembling from the chill of the tiled floor with nothing but a layer of thin cotton to keep you warm, that it happens. He shifts on the stool, a mere twitch in an attempt to get comfortable, but it brushes his bloody arm against yours. Flecks of fresh red on the light pink fabric. First your carpet, now your pajamas. Your favorite, special, extra soft matching cotton pajama set, a rare splurge after your promotion that stood out among old t-shirts and sweat shorts. Ruined. Again, he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Did I say something?” Hood asks. He waits for your response, but when none comes, he adds, “I’m sorry if I did.” He speaks so quietly you may not have been able to separate his words from the whirring filter of his mask, if not for the chilling silence of the bathroom floor. The insulating brick walls of your old apartment building are something you’re usually grateful for, but tonight you find yourself wishing for the city’s commotion to seep through the walls. Something, anything to buffer his proximity to you.

You hear his inhale as he prepares to say something else.

“Can you just let me work?” You snap before he has the chance to speak again. It’s loud, louder than you’d ever dream of speaking to him, and he flinches. Your eyes shut in apology, but only for a moment before you get back to it. He looks away. His feet point towards the door.

He wants to leave, you can tell, and you don’t blame him. You just messed everything up. But you started this, so now you have to finish it.

You sit in silence for the several minutes it takes for you to clean his wound and stop the bleeding.

He’s not looking at you, gaze transfixed ahead of him on a chip in the paint. At least, you assume. It’s difficult to guess what’s going on behind the milky white covering over his eyes. His subtle body language can be read if you pay close enough attention, you’ve learned, but that’s not something you care to do right now.

(Maybe you noticed in the back of your mind that he’s not exhibiting any body language since you snapped at him, but the compartment in your head for guilt is already overflowing, so maybe you didn’t notice it, you tell yourself.)

You stare at your sleeve, at the patches of blood blooming like ink blots. The red and pink hues blend together behind your blurring vision. You sniffle.

“Are you—” Hood starts. Because now he’s looking at you.

“Excuse me,” you say, pushing yourself off the ground and stumbling out of the room without so much as a glance back at him. You stagger into your room, needle and thread still in hand, and push the door closed. The lights are off, and the darkness is calming, quieting your buzzing thoughts. You close your eyes and lean against the door. Breathe in. Breathe out. You continue this exercise, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth to soothe your sympathetic nervous system, the same way a therapist instructed that one time you went. You wipe away the moisture that has collected in your eyes, roll out your stiff neck, dry your sweaty palms over your thighs. You toss the needle and thread aside, because they are definitely not sterile anymore, and take a few more breaths before opening the door and going back to the bathroom.

You avoid his face, following the lines of grimy grout between the tiles before resuming to your spot at his side. His inspecting eyes burn on the side of your face. You wipe down the forceps with a sterilizing wipe and rip open the plastic packaging for a new needle, holding it up to the wound, but your hand refuses to steady.

Another deep breath. Then another.

Hood sighs. It’s almost chastising. “I think I should go.”

“What?” You’re just surprised enough to be torn away from your thoughts and look him in the eye (mask) for the first time all night.

“You can’t do this,” he says, gruffly. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll let you figure it out.”

You scoff. “Yes, I can. I’m fine.”

Before he can argue, you grab him by the wrist to hold him in place just as he starts moving to get up. He winces, but you keep your grip tight on him. You can feel his scrutiny through the cold, expressionless barrier of his disguise, practically track his pupils as they search your face.

You both pretend he couldn’t break from your hold in an instant if he wanted to.

“You’re shaking,” Hood says. His voice is much softer now.

You follow the turn of his head to your hand where it hovers the needle right over his skin. You are shaking. Trembling, in fact.

“No, I’m not.” It comes out as an empty whisper.

You focus all your strength on steadying yourself, but the harder you try to stabilize, the harder you tremor. Your other hand releases his wrist to clamp over your dominant hand and force it to stay in place. It guides the needle closer to the skin, but now your vision is blurring. You blink rapidly, but it’s not enough. The tears start falling. You look away from him, but a warm hand settles over yours. You don’t dare look at him, unable to bear showing him your shameful face, wet and blushing and screwed up in misery. You turn your face into your sleeve. Clamp your eyes shut tight, thinking maybe if you keep them closed, this darkness will swallow you up and he won’t be here anymore.

But the warmth of his skin on yours is the first feeling of softness, of relief you’ve felt in months, and then it’s gone. Your shoulders are shaking, quaking with the effort to keep your sobs quiet.

One finger ever so gently hooks around your chin, pulling it back up to face him. You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to see him see you like this, but the tears are still streaming. He brushes them away. Whether that makes it better or worse, you can’t be sure, because you cry even harder, snatching your face away from his grasp to muffle your sobs into the back of your hand. You don’t realize he’s pushed himself off his stool to sit cross-legged on the floor until you feel his hand circling your arm and pulling you closer. The tools in your hand clatter on the floor as your palms come up to press against his chest, fighting against him with half-hearted protests murmured through your cries. But even with only one good arm he’s too strong for you, and you’re pulled into him.

He’s so gentle with you, rubbing your back and resting his chin atop your head while you cry and cry and cry into his shirt. Several minutes pass like this, with your face buried in his chest and his good arm holding you tightly against him while the other dangles lamely at his side, throbbing with an intensity he’s trying to ignore.

When your sobs die down, and you’re sure you’re all cried out, you linger against him. He smells like smoke and gasoline, and his shirt is soft and warm from his body heat seeping through. His hand continues to stroke up and down the length of your back, even after you’ve quieted. The edge of his mask digs into your scalp where his chin sits, but it feels worth it. Your hands, still pressed to his chest, slide higher, completely of their own volition, out of a newfound desire to wrap your arms around his neck. You don’t hear it, but you can feel his sharp draw of breath, his chest rising quickly under your touch. Your hands lose their nerve at his clavicle as you hold your breath for fear of the smallest movement drawing attention to your forwardness. You wait for him to rebuff you, to lean away from your touch, or grab your wrists and pry them off. He doesn’t.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. His chest finally falls.

Eyes opening, your thumb swipes over the edge of the red bat symbol just below his collarbone.

His movements pause, lightly gripping the fabric of your shirt for just a moment, before releasing it. “It’s alright,” he tells you.

You pull back from his chest to look at him, the way his cold and unfeeling expression stares back at you. You wonder from time to time what’s under the mask, but tonight the desire is overwhelming; you ache with the want to know what he looks like. The color of his eyes. What his mouth looks like when he winces over a deep cut or chuckles at one of your anecdotes. You wonder if his lips are soft or chapped. If he’d like it if you dragged your thumb across the bottom one.

The metallic odor spreading through the room brings you back to the present, and you hope the flush from your tears hides your cheeks’ growing heat when you realize where your mind had wandered. 

“Oh, fuck, your arm.” You speak in a watery voice, wiping at your face as the urgency returns to your senses. Though you try to move away, his firm hand on your back pulls you back in.

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” He says, resuming his caresses up and down your back. “I can take care of it.”

“Then why do you even need me?” You sniffle with a small smile.

He stays silent. But when you search his face, waiting for an answer, his hand moves to your side, palm sliding a fraction of an inch closer to your waist and fingers tensing, you can almost see through the mechanical muzzle to the way his lips shape the words. At least, he wishes you could.

You know why.

this was lots of fun to write and thank u for your patience ik i said i was gonna "knock this out in a day" 2 weeks ago😬😬 also we're gonna pretend they aren't just letting his open wound marinate for half an hour when it should be getting stitched up bc it's fiction ok? everyone say thank you mostly-imagines for proofreading this😚

but anyway happy new year!! it's been barely 2 months but starting this account made my year so much better🫶🫶🫶and ty for 500 followers that's crazy🫣🫢

listen to the inspo song!!!