#i feel like this slightly off topic from what op was saying

[mysadcorner]

Hello love! I hope this new year is treating you well! May I please have headcanons of Jason’s reaction when his s/o says Red Hood is their favorite superhero? Like they have no idea that Jason and red hood are the same person so they’re always like, “wow red hood’s so amazing! But not as amazing as you Jay!” Thank you 🙏 💕

Jason Todd x Reader That’s A Fan Of Red Hood Headcanons

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- Credit to the images owners - Please be specific about characters wanted in headcanons -

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• Jason would definitely be surprised when you mention your passion towards Red Hood, or at least the fact that you like him. This surprised reaction from Jason wouldn't leave either, whenever you have anything good to say about Red Hood then it'll be as if he's hearing something shocking for the first time all over again simply due to the fact he hardly hears comments about himself that aren't negative. He seems to be quite controversial around Gotham.

• As he probably didn't meet you through being connected to other vigilantes, and was presenting himself as being as much of a normal person as could at the time, then he definitely didn't tell you about being Red Hood. And he would try his best to keep it that way, almost always brushing off your concerns about his injuries or bruises, and even his disappearances, through the regular use of sarcasm.

• One of his main reasons for hiding this from you would be him being scared of your reaction. Despite being tough and cold on the outside most of the time, he actually cares deeply about what you think of him and is pretty self-conscious about hoq you view him. In his mind, finding out about him being Red Hood may give you a reason to leave him on op of all of his other not so great qualities, even if this was just a projection of his own fears rather than how you actually would have felt.

• After you express your fondness of Red Hood he starts to purposefully pay close attention to your schedule and knowing whenever you go out later on in the evening. The last thing he wants is for you to accidently stumble across him as he's patrolling the streets, so he plans ahead to do his best to avoid you, and hopefully preventing you from figuring out who his is by stopping you from seeing Red Hood up close.

• The longer you express positive feelings about Red Hood for the more he starts to get paranoid and feel guilty about being around you. He knows that since you're just a normal person that a villain or someone with bad intentions could get a hold of you whenever he isn't around to use you against him, it also means someone could follow him to where he meets you or to where you live just to find out his identity. There are plenty of ways that things could go wrong if he isn't constantly extremely careful.

• Deep down he does actually like the fact that you approve of Red Hood and are somewhat of a fan of him, if you were a bit of an obsessed fan then he would still enjoy that you were although being slightly concerned. He may even bring up the topic of Red Hood just to hear you talk about him which also helps him feel better about himself and what he's doing without expressing it.

• Realising that he wants to act better knowing that you're watching the reports on his activity and looking forward to any mentions of Red Hood being sighted around Gotham, he purposefully goes out of his way to be on his best behaviour whenever the situation allows for it (more that Bruce could have ever convinced him to).

• After a while, Jason may try to test the waters to see how you may react about seeing Red Hood in real life, and this may help him see that you finding out who he really is won't end in a bad way. To do this, he may stage a little run in with you on a quiet night just to see your reaction, and not hanging around long enough for anyone to stumble across him interacting with you as the Red Hood. Putting up with your reaction and constant mentioning of it in the days afterwards won't be something he's irritated by, and will actually help fuel his comfort about you finding out.

•When he finally tells you, he's going to be his usual dramatic self, and you'll probably think he has something absolutely terrible to tell you when he sits you down for the conversation. But once he does tell you, he feels the burden instantly lifted from him. He'll still be concerned about you, but at least now he can be honest with you and not stress over making up lies or trying to hide things from you.

[chaikachi]

I think we can possibly get rg crumbs with Neo teasing Ruby as Oscar even more🙏 let's pray for the crumbs 🙏 it's been 84 years 🥹

I literally JUST wrote an analysis of this and threw it on twitter like 2 days ago. I had been meaning to put it on my personal blog but you, dear anono, have given me incentive to put it here instead.

The Interesting Pattern of People Using Oscar Against Ruby

This kicks off primarily in v7, which makes sense since Oscar and Ruby are thrown into conflict as early as episode 2. The conflict is a result of Ruby lying to Ironwood in an attempt to protect him and the rest of their team... But it's clear from the start not everyone agrees with that decision.

Of those that don't agree, the loudest seem to be Oscar and Yang. The latter of which - who is our first example - chooses to bring it up with Ruby in front of their whole team when they're on their first mission with the Ace Ops. Except Yang doesn't just voice her own thoughts or feelings, she makes a point to to ask Ruby how Oscar feels about it. Which was not the fairest way to go about it if you ask me. Especially seeing how Ruby reacted. It's also VERY INTERESTING how that scene directly parallels what it transitions into: Oscar posing those same concerns to her. Except unlike Yang, he found Ruby when she was alone so they didn't have an audience to witness their conflict.

From there, we have a slightly more subtle example: Ironwood. And by 'subtle' i just mean he doesn't say it as directly with his words or actions as the other examples we're discussing here. We do know that their conflict for this volume is centered on their disagreement of what to do with Ironwood... and the show reminds us of that by constantly framing the two separated by him.

Whether it was Ironwood's intention or not, he did manage to drive a wedge between the two of them. And while this conflict does keep them apart for a while... it doesn't work as well as it could have. The first example of this is in episode 7 where Oscar and Ironwood are having their talk near the winter vault.

Ironwood: Do you believe in me? Oscar: I do believe in you. But not only you.

It is very clear Oscar is talking about the other leader in this situation: Ruby. Showing that despite their disagreement, he still does stand by and respect Ruby's decision. Even in this photo, while they are still separated by Ironwood, they are agreeing with each other about what to do:

That scene is then directly followed by the infamous "Schnee Manor Fumble" where the the two finally agree to tell Ironwood the truth and regain some trust in each other.

And as much as I would love to analyze this scene in even more depth, it will have to wait for another post.

For now the next example: Cinder

In V8 when she sabotages their portal plan, it's literally the first thing she says and I still don't know why. Cinder saw the vision of them making this plan, but it was a group endeavor. And the only things we saw Oscar say were the technicalities of how Atlas would fall when using the staff... So what exactly was she referring to? and why did she mention his name specifically?

And then last, but certainly not least: Neo.

We saw this back when the v9 teaser clip first dropped however long ago and it was a topic of BIG DEBATE. Many argued there was no significance behind why she chose Oscar of all people to turn into... but I have to disagree.

In tandem with all these other examples, there is a narrative pattern formed of people specifically using Oscar as a way to twist the knife at Ruby. Yang, Cinder, and - depending on if you view his contribution as intentional or not - Ironwood. Which makes Neo the 3rd or 4th person to do this.

Neo has a vendetta against Ruby. We know this. We know that Yang was an easy choice to hurt her because they're sisters. We know Penny is a good choice because they're close friends and Ruby already lost her once. But Oscar? Why Oscar?

Why did she pick him first? And why did she specifically use a mirage of him when he's covered in bruises and burn marks when she has seen him cleaned up multiple times? To that I have two answers.

The first: because she was there at the Schnee manor and saw them interact in the entryway.

And what she saw convinced her that the two of them were close. Close enough that using Oscar's face against Ruby - especially one battered and bruised - would be an easy way to hurt her.

I'm not trying to use this argument to say that Ruby has feelings for Oscar. I think in canon she is largely too preoccupied with the weight of the world on her shoulders to think about that right now. But we DO know that Oscar feels some type of way about her.

And that even if it's not established in canon as romantic yet, Ruby and Oscar are close. That they do have a relationship built on mutual trust, respect, and understanding for being in similar situations. As clearly displayed in show as well as backed up by Miles in this cameo.

But at the end of the day, there is a very strong emphasis on her connection to Oscar since his debut, which characters within the narrative are noticing! (just look at Nora's face here)

But that brings me to my 2nd point as to why Neo chose the characters she did: Because the writers wanted us to see that.

Animation is expensive and so much meticulous detail and intent goes into everything that we see. They wouldn't have just chosen those characters arbitrarily. They chose those three characters on purpose and I think it largely has to do with how those characters relate to Ruby's arc for Volume 9. So lets go down the list in more detail:

Yang

Once again, it is a bit self explanatory. Her and Ruby are sisters with unresolved conflict that has been building for a while now. Some of it from their upbringing, but a lot of the more recent struggles being Yang's habit of calling Ruby out or disagreeing with her in front of groups of people. It was mentioned at the start of this post, but there are two other examples that come to mind. The beginning of v8 and more recently, v9e3.

In the first, she is arguing with Ruby in front of a room full of people and they all get to see her leadership called into question. The second, we see Ruby's patience around this habit starting to wear thin. I'm not trying to say Yang is wrong to express these things, but the way she goes about them is often not very considerate of Ruby's feelings. Especially her feelings tied to leadership, which is a big theme for this volume.

As mentioned in the v9 trailer, someone says "You seem to be carrying a rather large burden". However, we can see very clearly Ruby's not carrying it well at all and that she is well on her way to breaking under that pressure. A pressure and insecurity that Yang has unfortunately contributed to even when she's trying her very best to be supportive.

Two brief side notes:

Blake and Qrow are also guilty of hurting Ruby in this way unintentionally, but I don't want to touch on them in this post so it will have to wait for another meta

VERY INTERESTING that right before this shot, Yang says "My plan for mantle didn't work out either... but we got Oscar back". Which is a very nice callback to the last time she brought him up to Ruby at the beginning of v7.

But back on track to the next illusion Neo uses:

Penny

We know this one is a big one. The two have always been very close and Ruby is quite protective of her in light of having already lost her once. We saw Ruby admit to this for the first (and pretty much only) time on screen when speaking with Oscar in the Dojo during v5. (yet another scene I would like to dissect more in detail in a later post)

Ruby: When Beacon fell, I lost two of my friends. Penny Polendina and Pyrrha Nikos. (...) Ruby: Pyrrha... Penny. I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt. That I didn't think about them every day since I lost them.

We also see Ruby passes out when she hears that Penny didn't survive the fall. Then later she gives a eulogy of sorts over the sword that she got from Jinxy. So this plot around Ruby's grief towards Penny is going to be very prevalent this volume.

And lastly:

Oscar

Why him when he didn't fall with them? Well, because we already had a parallel setup between him and Ruby in relation to "The Girl Who Fell Through The World".

Oscar: She brushed off her bumps and bruises, for nothing hurt worse than the loneliness in her chest. Oz: I recognize that. The Girl Who Fell Through the World. Oscar: I shouldn't be surprised you're so familiar with fairytales. Oz: I've lived through my share of them. How are you holding up? Oscar: I thought the idea of falling through Remnant into a new world was... exciting. I never understood why she was so sad when she finally made it back home. But now it makes more sense. Oz: She wasn't the same girl anymore.

Oscar relates because of how he was thrown into this adventure and how it's changed him... and the same can be said for Ruby. Except instead of the call to adventure choosing her, she chose the path herself and then fell into that fairytale first hand. Literally. Into an arc that seems to be telling her that in order for her to grow, survive, and to rise up from the fall she just had: she needs to change. Just like Alyx did. Just like Oscar did.

Unkown Voice: What if you could leave Ruby Rose behind? Shed like an old coat. What might happen... if you don't?

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand that's all i've got rn. there are so many crumbs i have built myself a damn loaf of bread, my friends. and i have very few doubts that Neo won't try and use a mirage of Oscar against Ruby again. if you got to the end, thank you for reading and let me know if you'd like to see more of this stuff or if you'd prefer I keep it on my non-art blog @gatheringkeepsakes. Until then... RG CANON OKAY BYE.

[bloody-bee-tea]

IntiMarch 2024 Day 24 - Love like galaxies

The prompt for this was "I feel safe here". This fic really was inspired by this amazing art on Twitter. Eldritch Abomination Gojo my beloved 😍 And apparently that art was inspired by Cannibalization of the Apex, which is definitely something all of you should read if you haven't yet!

Suguru doesn’t have to look up from the book he’s reading to know that it’s Satoru who comes in through the window. He only every comes through the window—and he’s the only one to ever do so, too—and the one time Suguru asked him about that, Satoru didn’t show up for almost two weeks.

Suguru has never asked again.

“Welcome back,” Suguru says, once he hears Satoru’s feet land on the ground and when he does finally look up, Satoru is already staring at him.

It’s almost unbearable to have that gaze fixed on him—Satoru’s eyes too blue and too big and too all-knowing for it to be comfortable, but Suguru has never minded it.

It’s Satoru who is looking at him after all.

“Suguru,” Satoru sighs out and as if a switch has been flipped, his posture becomes more relaxed, his shoulders slightly curing forwards, his head almost hanging down.

“You’re exhausted,” Suguru observes and that’s as much as he’s going to say on that topic.

Satoru is cagey about—everything, really. It took Suguru almost a month to learn his name, after the first time he climbed in through his window as if he’d always done that and until today he has never learned what brought Satoru to him that very first day.

He never talks about why he sometimes seems so haunted, why there are tears in his clothes on some days, why he’s jumpy as if he’s waiting to be attacked.

Suguru doesn’t ask. He won’t get an answer and if he pushes too hard he will only take a place away from Satoru where he feels at least comfortable enough to come to on a regular basis and Suguru doesn’t even want to think about what not having that could mean for Satoru.

Who knows what his circumstances are; if he’s from an abusive household or a delinquent or something else entirely—Suguru only knows that he always wants Satoru to come to him, no matter what.

“Today was—difficult,” Satoru admits and immediately Suguru rakes his eyes over Satoru’s body, checking him for obvious wounds because he doesn’t know what else to do.

Suguru only relaxes when he can’t even spot any tears in his clothes.

“But now you’re here,” he then says and shifts on the bed, making more room for Satoru to join him.

Satoru lets out an exhausted sigh before he kicks off his shoes and then comes over to the bed, instantly curling up on his side, pressing his forehead to Suguru’s hip bone, seeing as he’s still propped up against the headboard.

“You’re really beat today, huh?” Suguru asks, putting his book to the side and carding his fingers through Satoru’s hair.

“Sorry,” Satoru quietly says. “I’m not good company today, probably.”

Suguru bites his tongue so he doesn’t blurt out how Satoru is always good company, because simply having him physically near is improving Suguru’s day significantly but he’s not sure Satoru would want to hear that.

“Why not go home then? Why come here? You need to rest, too, Satoru,” Suguru softly gives back, not stopping the motion of his hand and Satoru leans into the contact like a cat.

“I feel safe here,” he says after a long moment and Suguru’s stomach drops out.

It’s the first time that he verbally alluded to the fact that wherever he’s home he’s not safe and the thought makes Suguru sick.

“You know you can always come here, right?” Suguru asks, because Satoru only ever drops by when Suguru is also there. Suguru knows because he did ask about that once. “Even when I’m not here. I leave my window unlocked for you.”

“Suguru,” Satoru gasps out, his head flying up. “You shouldn’t do that. That’s not safe. There are so many bad people out there, what if one of them finds you?”

“They won’t,” Suguru says, because it’s not as if he’s advertising the fact that he’s keeping the window open.

He even changed the window handle, so that it’s not visible from the outside when it’s open. He’s not stupid after all.

“You need to be more careful,” Satoru still mutters and Suguru chuckles.

“What, so that no strange boys with white hair and blue eyes can drop in?” he teasingly asks and pulls on a strand of Satoru’s hair.

“I’m not strange,” Satoru huffs out, laying back down in his previous position without waiting for Suguru’s reply, which is just as well because Suguru doesn’t know what to say to that.

The thing is, Satoru is strange. His eyes are too intense, his hair is too white, his behaviour too—strange. There is no better word for it. Sometimes it seems to Suguru as if he’s too much, pressed into too little space and he wonders if trauma might have to do with that.

He tried to read up on that a little bit, but there are so many different reasons to have a trauma response and then there are also so many different trauma responses itself that Suguru couldn’t make heads or tails of it without outright asking Satoru, which of course is out of the question.

“You’re a little bit strange,” Suguru admits to him, resuming to stroke his hair once more, “but I like it that way.”

“As you should,” Satoru huffs out, and then presses himself closer. “Can I stay the night?” he then asks and Suguru smiles, even though Satoru can’t see it.

“Of course you can, you know that. You don’t always have to ask. Do you need something? I still have your toothbrush from last time,” Suguru says and chuckles when Satoru bares his teeth in a disgusted manner.

“I don’t like doing that,” he grumbles out and Suguru taps his head.

“I know but you have to. Healthy teeth are important.”

“Not as if mine could rot anyway,” Satoru mutters, barely audible and that, too, is just one of the many strange things about Satoru.

Sometimes he acts as if normal rules don’t apply to him and his body and it’s puzzling at best.

“Will you also maybe finally take the key I had made for you?” Suguru asks after a moment of comfortable silence and Satoru peeks up at him, one iridescent blue eye blinking up at him.

“No. It’s not safe to come in from there,” is all Satoru says to that and Suguru drops the subject.

It’s always the same; Suguru offers, Satoru refuses with confusing statements, rinse and repeat.

Satoru is stubborn, but Suguru is, too. One day he’ll get him to accept the key, if only so he carries it around. That alone would make Suguru feel better because he’s living on the third floor. One day Satoru might be too exhausted to climb up outside and Suguru wants him to still be able to come home even when that happens.

“Come on, let’s get ready for bed, I’m beat, too,” Suguru decides and nudges Satoru until he hisses at him.

It’s a strange sound to hear out of a human throat but Suguru only flicks Satoru’s nose and laughs when he goes cross-eyed over it.

“You are ridiculous,” he says, amusement colouring his voice and Satoru blinks at him.

“But you like me anyway.”

It’s not a question, not quite, but Suguru sees the tightening around Satoru’s eyes, the way his finger suddenly taps away at his thigh and he knows that the answer matters to Satoru.

“Of course I like you,” Suguru says and leans forward to rest his head on Satoru’s shoulder. “You’re my favourite stray.”

“I’m not a stray,” Satoru bristles and it makes Suguru laugh so hard that he almost falls off the bed.

“Sure you’re not,” he easily agrees, which only seems to anger Satoru more because his eyes blaze almost electric blue.

“I’m not! Take that back!”

“Or what?” Suguru asks, and yelps when Satoru tackles him into the bed, fingers dancing over Suguru’s sides, tickling him until he can barely breathe.

“Okay, okay, you win, you win! You’re not a stray!” he eventually manages to cry out and immediately Satoru ceases his attack, flopping down on top of Suguru with a satisfied look.

“Better,” he decides and Suguru can’t help but to get his fingers back into Satoru’s hair, pushing his bangs out of his face.

“You’re still my favourite, though,” Suguru softly admits, because Satoru is his favourite everything and isn’t that a terrifying thought.

“You’re my favourite, too,” Satoru solemnly gives back and rubs his cheek against Suguru’s chest. “My very favourite of all,” Satoru adds in a mumble and for a moment Suguru finds it hard to breathe but for different reasons than just a few minutes before.

They stay like this until they fall asleep and Satoru is insufferable the next morning when he stresses again and again that he didn’t brush his teeth.

Suguru wouldn’t have it any other way.

~*~*~

Suguru wakes up with a start when something falls in from his window. It’s the middle of the night so it’s too dark to see anything and Suguru fumbles with the lamp at the bedside table for too long.

By the time he finally manages to get some light, who- or whatever just tumbled into his room has already moved, he could hear it.

His heart is beating so fast he fears it’s going to beat right out of his chest and he wonders if maybe Satoru was right. Maybe he shouldn’t have kept his window open at all times.

“Suguru, don’t switch on the light,” Satoru’s voice suddenly reaches him, strangely muffled and just in that moment Suguru finally manages to switch on the light.

What he sees takes his breath away.

Satoru is propped up against the wall under the window, clutching a hand to his side and he’s covered in a dark substance, glowing and iridescent as if there’s glitter in it.

“Satoru! Are you hurt?” Suguru rushes out and in his haste to get out of bed he almost tangles himself up in his blanket but he manages to get to Satoru’s side without faceplanting into the ground.

“Don’t look, please don’t look,” Satoru chokes out, and he tries to curl up, to make himself as small as possible even as he lets out a pained whimper.

“Satoru, what’s going on?” Suguru whispers, hands hovering unsurely over Satoru’s frame and he still doesn’t understand what he’s seeing.

The black-ish substance is everywhere, and it seems as if it’s getting more the longer Satoru sits on the ground.

“Nothing, nothing, Suguru, please, just go back to bed, I just—I needed a safe space, just for a little while, don’t look at me,” Satoru rambles out as if Suguru could simply get up and go back to bed when Satoru is so obviously hurt.

“Where are you hurt? What is this stuff?” Suguru asks, gently touching Satoru’s shoulder and flinching when the substance there is warm. Dread curls in his stomach. “Satoru, what is that?”

“Please don’t,” Satoru sobs out, curling up even tighter and the movement makes more of the stuff ooze out from somewhere just as Satoru lets out another pained noise.

“Satoru, what happened?” Suguru breathes out, completely helpless as long as Satoru doesn’t talk to him, doesn’t tell him what to do but Satoru stays quiet.

“I’m so sorry, Suguru,” Satoru eventually whispers, and he sounds heartbroken. “I never meant for you to see.”

“See what, Satoru?” Suguru asks, tries for calm and probably fails by a mile because he simply doesn’t understand what’s going on here.

Before Satoru can say something though, voices drift inside through the still open window.

“I saw it go inside there,” a male voice says and a woman laughs in response.

“Perfect. It’s cornered there, time to end this. We already wounded it, we can kill it easily now.”

“No, no, nonononono,” Satoru whispers, and it feels as if the entire atmosphere of the room shifts. “I won’t allow this,” he goes on, more vehemently but before he can say anything else someone jumps in through the window.

Suguru turns around, positioning himself in front of Satoru, between whoever just came in and Satoru, who is already hurt, but the guy barely spares him a glance.

“There you are, you freak. Thought you could escape us, huh?” the guy sneers and when the woman laughs from right behind Suguru, his head snaps around.

She’s perched on the windowsill, a strange looking weapon in her hand and a cold shiver runs down Suguru’s back.

“Who are you? What do you want? I don’t have anything valuable here,” he tries, even though he suspects they are not here for him.

“Oh, that is indeed right, little human. It’s not valuable at all. It’s barely able to shed this ill-fitting form, and yet it will still bring us at least a little bit of money. You really picked the runt of whatever litter kicked it out,” the woman conversationally says and Suguru doesn’t understand a single thing she’s saying.

“But since you’re here, we’ll get rid of you, too, no worries,” the guy chimes in again and suddenly there’s an immense pressure from behind Suguru before an inhuman voice fills the room.

“You will not touch him!”

Suguru’s head flies around but his mind cannot comprehend what he’s seeing. There’s this—Satoru shaped entity behind him, emitting an eerie white glow, bleeding black galaxies from various cuts all over its body, its face—or what Suguru thinks must be its face—almost split in half by a yawning abyss that must be its mouth and there are eyes appearing all over its face and—they are blue.

These eyes are the same colour as Satoru’s and Suguru dumbly falls on his ass.

“Satoru?” he whispers out, momentarily forgetting the threat in the room and when one eye snaps towards him he knows that it’s Satoru.

He would know that gaze anywhere.

Satoru lets out a shriek that is so high Suguru’s teeth ache before he spills forward, there’s no other word for it. It’s as if he’s no longer solid, no longer compressed into a steady form, but he’s everything, everywhere.

The man lets out a surprised yell and tries to get his weapon up but Satoru is on him before he makes it and then there’s only Satoru.

The man is gone.

“Fucking shit,” the woman hisses out but instead of fleeing like she maybe should she jumps into the room, aiming her weapon at Suguru and even in this state, Suguru can tell that this is a monumentally bad idea.

Satoru intercepts her before she gets even close to Suguru.

“Didn’t know you had it in you,” she gets out, voice strangled by Satoru’s part that currently holding on to her and it’s the last thing she says before there’s a horrible crunching sound and her body goes lifeless in Satoru’s grip before she, too, disappears into the swirling mass that is Satoru right now.

Suguru swallows heavily.

“Satoru?” he carefully asks, because he’s not sure if Satoru is still aware like this or if he’s going to be the next to disappear and he jerks when Satoru’s eyes suddenly appear on what Suguru thought was the back of his head.

Satoru makes a noise, no longer so high that it hurts, but this one is more inquiring, worried.

Suguru gives him a shaky smile.

“I’m not hurt,” he promises him because of course Satoru would think about himself last. “Satoru, I—” Suguru starts, reaching out for Satoru, who jerks back and then his entire form shudders before he presses himself into something more humanoid.

He doesn’t quite manage his normal human form; there’s a spare eye on his left cheek, right under his normal one and his mouth is still endless and black, and the various cuts all over him are still emitting that dark substance which—

“Satoru, is that your blood? Holy shit, you’re bleeding so much, don’t move!” Suguru rushes out and then turns around on his heels to dart to the bathroom where he keeps his first aid kit.

He’s back in less than a minute but it feels like ages before he drops back down next to Satoru.

“I don’t know what’s going to help, so I’m just going to bandage them, okay, I’ll clean them and then I’ll bandage them, please don’t die on me, Satoru,” he mutters, his hands shaking so much he can barely get the bandages out of the kit.

He’s so scared Satoru is going to leave him.

“I’m sorry,” Satoru finally says, his voice back to normal though still a little rough around the edges and Suguru frowns at him.

“For what?”

“You don’t have to do this,” Satoru whispers and gently pushes Suguru’s hands down when he wants to clean a cut on Satoru’s shoulder. “I’ll leave. You don’t have to worry about anything. I won’t come back. You’ll be safe.”

Suguru drops his hands in his lap, his mind suddenly empty and his heart aching.

“You’ll leave?” he mutters and Satoru can’t meet his gaze when he nods.

“I’m sorry you had to see this. I’m not—I’m not going to kill you, Suguru, you—fuck—you don’t have to be afraid of me.”

“Afraid of you?” Suguru breathes out. “Satoru, I’m afraid for you. You’re bleeding so much, surely that can’t be good?”

Satoru blinks at that, all three eyes of his doing that slow, confused blinking Satoru usually does and then all the cuts on him heal up.

“You can heal yourself,” Suguru whispers in wonder and reaches out with a shaking hand to smooth his fingers over the now unblemished skin on Satoru’s shoulder.

“I’ll leave. For what it’s worth, I really am sorry, Suguru,” Satoru says as he gets up and Suguru shoots up with him.

“Will you stop!” he yells out and that finally gets Satoru to look at him. “I don’t want you to leave so will you stop staying that! Just—come here,” he gets out and roughly pulls Satoru into a hug. “I thought we would die. I thought they would kill us,” he says, voice shaky and he thinks maybe the adrenaline is fading now because Suguru feels shaky all over.

“Who were these people?”

“Suguru, stop. It’s okay. You don’t have to—it’s okay. Let go of me, you’re shaking,” Satoru says and it finally clicks for Suguru.

Satoru thinks he’s shaking because he’s afraid of him, afraid of what he is, of what he did.

That couldn’t be further from the truth though.

“Satoru, I’m shaking because you were seriously injured. I am shaking because these people broke into my apartment, trying to kill you. I am shaking because I thought I would lose you, so will you please just stop this nonsense and let me hold you until I stop shaking?” he hisses out, tightening his arms around Satoru.

“Suguru, I—I’m not human,” Satoru shakily says and Suguru huffs out an annoyed breath.

“Goddamit, if you can’t even give me a minute then at least let me sit down,” he decides and takes Satoru’s hand in his, threading their fingers together and pulling him towards the bed where he heavily sits down.

Satoru follows him but he doesn’t sit and his fingers are slack.

“I don’t care,” Suguru says and looks up at Satoru. “Whatever you are, I don’t care. You’re Satoru. You’re my favourite. It doesn’t matter what you are.”

“I lied to you.”

“Yeah, well, it seems like a bit of a heavy conversation starter,” Suguru snarks at him and he spots the little tick at the corner of Satoru’s mouth.

“I killed two people.”

“Who tried to kill you and me first, I’d say that’s warranted. They called you an ‘it’. What’s up with that?”

“They are—hunters, I’d guess. My kind can be dissected once killed. The parts sell for huge amounts of money.”

“Fucking hell,” Suguru mutters and pulls on Satoru’s hand until he gets with the program and sits next to Suguru. “Don’t leave, Satoru, not now, not ever. Just don’t.”

“You’re not even a little scared?” Satoru asks and he sounds so painfully surprised by that that Suguru wants to weep.

“I’m not,” he promises, brushing his thumb right under where the extra eye sits. “I love your eyes. I don’t mind seeing more of them.”

“Oh, fuck,” Satoru mutters and just like that the eye vanishes.

“You’re listening to me just as well as you always do,” Suguru says with a roll of his eyes because that sure as hell was not what he wanted. “That woman,” he then starts, “she said you couldn’t change. But you did change into something.”

“I couldn’t before. A few changed attributes here and there was all I could do. I never managed the complete form.”

“Why now?”

“They were aiming for you,” Satoru simply says, as if that’s explanation enough and maybe it is.

Maybe that’s the only answer that matters.

“I’m not afraid, because no matter what, it’s you. It’s still you. I could never be afraid of you.”

For once, Satoru seems to understand what Suguru really means because he leans in and brushes a fleeting kiss over his lips. It’s not enough—nothing with Satoru will ever be enough—and so Suguru pulls him in for a real kiss.

Satoru’s mouth is still too dark to be human, the abyss-like quality still there, but Satoru tastes sweet, just like Suguru expected and he reciprocates the kiss with a desperation that takes Suguru’s breath away.

“I’m here,” he whispers when they part, says the words right against Satoru’s lips. “I love you.”

It makes Satoru sob, makes him hide his face away in the crook of Suguru’s neck, but he still hears the whispered “I love you, too. Thank you for not hating me” loud and clear and it almost tears his heart apart to hear it.

“Let’s sleep, okay? We can talk more tomorrow, but right now I think I’d like to simply hold you and sleep.”

Suguru’s hand is already back in Satoru’s hair and at this point he might have to admit that it’s his favourite thing to do, carding his fingers through Satoru’s starlight hair over and over again.

“’kay,” Satoru agrees, sounding about as beat as Suguru feels and Suguru doesn’t care about his stained closes or the fact that he most likely did not brush his teeth, so he simply tumbles them into bed, tucks Satoru close until it feels more like they are one entity than two different beings and he’s asleep almost instantly.

He’ll have a lot of questions in the morning, but for now, it’s more than enough that he has Satoru right in his arms where he belongs.

And he’s not going to let him go.

[dirtytransmasc]

Some Reyzì and Mansk for you~~

 Warning: Dark Content, mention of Black Ops shit, Ardmore tries to suggest that Mansk tortures the siblings for information. Reyzì talks about bees.

____

“Mansk, I understand you have…experience using advanced interrogation methods to extract information, perhaps it is time you put those skills to use.”

Mansk feels like he’s simultaneously had freezing water poured on him and lit on fire, static noise filling his ears as something dark and furious lashes around inside him.

The General wants the Soldier, the Monster.

The shift is immediate, a palpable change in the atmosphere of the room that has all the humans – including General Ardmore – stepping back as flight instincts kicked in. Colonel Quaritch and Corporal Wainfleet eye Mansk, waiting for some sign that the frayed control he had over himself had snapped and the Soldier had come out.  

There’s an urge – primal and bloodthirsty – to lunge at Ardmore, to sink his fangs into her neck and tear out her throat.

The topic of the meeting is changed, and the General’s suggestion is forgotten, but Mansk is only vaguely aware of the following conversations, caught up in the dark spiral of his own mind. Old memories push to the surface, twisting themselves so that the siblings’ faces – Reyzì’s face – replace those of the targets, and their screams echo in his ears.

The targets barely looked human when the Soldier Mansk finished his work.

__

Reyzì notices.

There is a tilt of her head, her pupils constrict momentarily before dilating, and her posture straightens as she turns toward him head-on. Her gaze always makes Mansk feel exposed, though not in a way that would instinctively have him on edge. Reyzì Sees him, and she does not shrink away.

Mansk doesn’t fully understand what he feels toward her, the emotions are new to him and so is the attachment he felt. Reyzì feels like home, like a safety he’s never known, and that is as much as he understands.

She is absolution and salvation.

Reyzì says something to Rävi, speaking in that confusing code of theirs, and she’s suddenly leaping off her banshee, heading straight towards him as he robotically prepares to mount his own. Mansk’s back is technically turned toward Reyzì, but he can tell when she approaches - he’s still spiralling but every instinct is on edge – by the familiar soft clacking of her hair beads hitting against each other as she walks.

“Gideon.”

There is a hand – four fingers, calloused and deadly – against his back, sitting just below his nape and between both shoulder blades, and the touch is grounding. The weight and warmth are like a life preserver, something that his spiralling mental state can grab onto.

The unique lilt of Reyzì’s voice is soothing – her accent distinct, as is the way she pronounces the syllables of his first name – and it reaches him clearly over the static in his ears. A slight turn of his head, tilted just slightly to look down at her, and Mansk can’t help but lock onto his sunglasses that sit on top of her head, tucked into her hair like a crown.

Reyzì likes to snatch things from him, her favoured item is his sunglasses. She never actually wears them, only ever keeping them on her head like a tiara, but Mansk couldn’t find it in himself to be bothered by her thievery.

“Did you know that there were over 16,000 species of bees?”

Reyzì is climbing onto his banshee – Mansk hasn’t named it, he’s never named an animal before – and she watches him as he moves to finally mount it himself. It’s not the first time Reyzì has flown with him, though usually, she tends to join him mid-flight, jumping from her own banshee to his with little warning.

She takes up her usual position behind him. Kneeling so her knees bracket his hips in a way while also keeping her raised enough that she can hook her chin on his shoulder, one arm is secured around his waist while her opposite hand pushes between his tactical vest and shirt, splaying against his ribcage and near his heart.

Mansk spends the flight listening to Reyzì talk about apiculture and bees, his mind coming back to him slowly, and he focuses just enough to convey ‘follow’ to the banshee as Mansk stares ahead of them to where Rävi flies in front. If Mansk turned to glance behind him, he knows he’d find Reyzì’s banshee – a teal and yellow one called Stormfly – following close behind.

The darkness fades, the static goes quiet, and the Soldier retreats into his corner.

“The oldest non-compression bee fossil, found in Raritan amber, dates back to the cretaceous period.”

__

Later, after they’ve landed and made camp for the night, Reyzì slides in next to Mansk as he prepares to take the first watch. There is a brief sense of confusion – the siblings always sleep close to Spider, taking turns watching him sleep – but it passes when Mansk glances over a finds the Colonel tucked into the alcove beside Reyzì’s brothers.

“Oel ngati kameie, Gideon, oel ngati kameie.”

my beautiful babies, they're being put through so much, but at least they have each other.

[vieramars]

Based prev, if I may add,

The entire meta of mouthwashing is that you, the player, are being challenged with the mindsets surrounding real life rape culture. If you choose to actively engage with this game and its story, you will inevitably end up relating to one or more of these characters. Yes, even Jimmy, because that's the point. It's confronting your biases through fiction. Confronting you directly with how easily you can fall into the same mindset, whether that's Curly refusing to understand and failing to take action until it's too late, or Jimmy believing himself to be in the right and the real victim and never accepting that he harmed anyone until he has nothing left.

I genuinely don't want to come off as rude, I'm saying this as a serious critique of the second argument, but insisting that this is just about shipping and "moral superiority" speaks to me of either inability or refusal to engage with both the game itself and op's entire point. Mouthwashing is ABOUT misogyny. It's ABOUT rape culture. These characters are inextricable from the real life aspects of real life rape culture they represent. They are all pieces of a systematic problem and they directly correspond to it. It's not interpretation it is pure text. You cannot "it's just fiction" your way out of ignoring the actual text of the game.

Now the tricky part is that yes, you have a right to engage with fiction however you want. But I think that what people are missing is that you need to know when it's appropriate to ignore the themes and just ship whoever. This is when we keep the inside thoughts inside. If you enjoy shipping any mouthwashing characters in any direction, fine, you can do that, but in my opinion if you're sharing that then people have the right to judge it just like any other part of fandom or in real life. And if your actions are causing people to "harass" you or causing you to feel attacked when someone calls out misogyny in your fandom, you might be doing misogyny. Which again is a major theme of mouthwashing: the perpetrator often does not think they're in the wrong, and that everyone else is being too harsh on them.

I think part of this attitude in the mouthwashing fandom/online spaces discussing it kind of comes from how we treat games differently from other media, too. Is anyone watching baby reindeer and then going online to post ship art of the main character and either of his abusers? (Don't answer that I don't want my day ruined if they do)

Anyways it all comes back to what op said. Fandom misogyny is a mirror of real life misogyny. I'd argue that fandom misogyny can't even be distinguished from irl misogyny, it's just taken a slightly different form due to online perceived anonymity and our tendency to assume entitlement to the characters in fiction. Mouthwashing is inherently about reflecting real-world misogyny and rape culture. If the only way you feel comfortable engaging with the source material is to strip away its core message, maybe you weren't ready for the confrontation it brought you. But that doesn't mean you should leave the fandom, not at all. I'm just asking you to play the game either again or for the first time, and let it sink in some more. It's a difficult topic. It's understandable, though not excusable, to reject the viscerality the first time you go through it. And please try to understand how shipping and fandomizing characters in a story about the horror of rape, forced pregnancy, enabling abuse, and how misogyny perpetuates and is perpetuated by them all, is going to rightfully upset the real life people you encounter online.

It's not shipping discourse and it's not fandom policing to call out parts of this fandom as an example of the exact misogynistic problems the game itself calls out.

I genuinely think Mouthwashing fandom is a good example on how real life misogyny is very wired on people brains and influenced how they engage with fictional misogyny.

You have a story about a woman being assaulted and telling a man he trusted but being dismissed because he is friends with the attacker, and people fixate on shipping her with either of those men.

You have a story about how men that downplay their male friends violence, assume neutrality is the safer option, unintentionally help create an environment that's unsafe to vulnerable people, at a risk becoming a victim themselves. And people make it about toxic yaoi.

You have a character kill herself because she didn't want birth the child of her abuser. And people make AUs where she happily keep the baby.

Misogyny isn't just "I hate this women", it's also downplaying their trauma, defending those who caused it, and reducing them to mothers or wives against their wished under this idea of what womanhood is about.

I don't think we can separate fandom misogyny from it's real world influence, not yet.

[mayedays]

I think a lot of my basic problems with using tumblr boil down to:

(1) being most motivated to use tumblr to express and get support for areas of psychological/intellectual/fandom angst, i.e., fret verbally about them, but being afraid that if I do this in a reblog (for example, if someone else’s post stirs something up) I’ll piss the op off by essentially ‘anxiety-dumping on a stranger’ or if I do it on my own post and the second problem kicks in, namely:

 (2) the fact that in order to feel motivated to say anything I kinda need to feel like I’m talking *to* someone instead of shouting into the void, but I’m also afraid that I’ll alienate anyone who is listening by, again, being too obviously an anxious mess or by saying something that is actually completely unhinged or by spending too much time complaining about the same thing again and again (bc I ruminate, a lot! Often about the same topics from an ever-so-slightly different angle--which gets really tiresome eventually to listeners--because I’m so upset about it and because I forget I’ve already done almost this exact same rant before.)

And I don’t even feel like I should make this post because it feels kinda manipulative, but this is what I mean: I wind up obsessively overthinking everything I say in case its unpleasant or emotionally manipulative or just bizarre or stupid and then I never say *anything* because its so much emotional effort, and I never get any closer to making friends online (or being more comfortable using tumblr). There are so many things I want to say and ask people and I wish I could get out of my own way.

[3raaaachachacha]

Bang Chan x female reader / 2.4k words / angst / fluff / smut

Warnings: smut, protected sex, fingering, blow job/hand job, multiple orgasms

Disclaimer: contains 18+ content; minors do not interact

⊱ ──────────────────────── ⊰

It wasn’t common for Chan and you to have a few days off in a row and to be able to spend that time together. Actually, Chan had asked if it was possible to take some time off work to spend time with you since he missed seeing you more than a few hours a day. After getting permission from his manager, Chan booked a place to stay for the two of you, far away from society where you could turn your phones off and just enjoy being by each other's side with no distractions.

The place was quite beautiful with the scenery of the mountains and snow in the distance, it was more than could have imagined. Your mind was beginning to ease from your stressful life back home. The stress was slowly starting to get to you, but thankfully, you could talk with your boyfriend whenever and about whatever. The two of you were good at talking to one another about how you felt and what was going on in life.

After an afternoon of going on a few tours with Chan and experiencing the snowy area, you found yourself back at the cabin Chan had rented out. It was freezing to say that least, so you had to help Chan figure out how to get the fireplace started to get some additional warmth within the cabin. There was a snow storm brewing outside and you knew that you would be stuck in the house till morning. Nearly half an hour of trying to get the fireplace started, you found yourself lying on the bed in Chan’s arms as a movie played in the background. Chan’s arm wrapped securely around your waist as his fingers traced soft circles onto your hip bone. You couldn’t help but feel slightly distracted by the way Chan’s soft hands felt touching your skin. It always made your stomach flutter with butterflies and send shivers down your spine.

Without even thinking, you leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Chan’s lips, smiling to yourself when you noticed you seemed to catch him off guard with the groan that erupted from his throat. Chan’s hands stopped rubbing your waist, instead he took a hold of them tightly before deepening the kiss and pulling you closer to him. As much as he wanted to keep kissing you, once you began to slowly rub yourself against him, he pulled away carefully, which caused you to gaze up at him with wide eyes and a cute pout.

“Baby,” Chan uttered, trying to catch his breath to calm himself down, “Do you feel ready enough to go a step further?”

You nodded your head quickly with a blush before propping yourself to sit up straight as he followed suit, “I’m ready Channie. I want it to be with you and I’ve wanted to tell you for a bit now, but I was a bit nervous to bring the topic up since you were so busy. Now though, it seems like the perfect time to let you in on my little secret.”

Immediately, his eyes went soft as a huge grin adored his face, placing a hand on your warm cheek, “Are you sure, baby? I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this. I love you no matter what.”

“I’ve never been so sure in my life,” You smiled brightly as a small giggle emerged from your lips.

With that, Chan leaned forward to press his plump lips against yours before guiding you to get comfortable on your back as he smoothly slipped his tongue into your mouth. Carefully, he began to slide his hand down your body, on any exposed skin of yours, before moving to your ass and squeezing softly. You couldn’t help but moan into the passionate kiss, feeling slightly embarrassed for how worked up you already were, but Chan seemed to think differently. The sounds you emitted only made him further turned on as well as his confidence growing. His hand moved from your ass to your front, rubbing over your clothed heat through the thin material of your lace panties. He was mentally thanking himself that you had decided to forgo pants for the night and opt for one of his big t-shirts to wear to bed.

This feeling was new to you, extremely new. You had never been touched like this before, which automatically made you more sensitive than you expected. With the way Chan was kissing you and the way his hands were roaming your body, it caused shivers to roam your entire body. Chan could only smirk from the beautiful sight in front of him.

“You’re so sensitive, baby,” He chuckled softly against your lips as he reattached his lips to yours before moving his hand to your breasts.

The two of you kept your lips connected for a little longer until Chan removed himself from you and shuffled back on his heels to remove his shirt, leaving his toned chest in plain sight. You couldn’t help but blush at his figure before you slowly followed suit. You noticed the way Chan’s lips flipped into a grin as he eyed your bare frame, taken back when he saw you not wearing a bra. He smiled lovingly at you before pushing you back against the mattress once again and glancing towards you for permission to touch you. His eyes looked down at your chest as his breath caught in his throat before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to the curve of your breast.

“Gosh, you’re so beautiful,” He groaned out against your soft skin as he continued his actions.

Shivers spread across your body from Chan’s warm breath against your nipples once he began to suck on the nub. Your back automatically arched from his touch as his free hand went to tweak your other nipple, a small moan emitting from your mouth as your hands tugged on his dark locks. He continued his ministrations on your breasts, moving from one to the other before pressing kisses down your stomach to the waistband of your lace panties.

Before continuing any further, he placed a few gentle kisses to your thighs, asking you once again if you were okay to continue. When you nodded quickly, he slowly pulled the band of your panties down your legs before tossing them somewhere on the floor and moving down to press butterfly kisses to the insides of your thighs.

“Fuck, I can’t believe we’re finally doing this,” He groaned breathlessly against your thighs, clearly hearing and seeing the affect you had on him. He was trying his best to be patient with you, but you could see that deep down, he was having a hard time holding himself back.

Chan pressed a needy kiss over your clit before licking a long stripe at your soping heat. The warmth of his breath on your clit made you moan as you scrunched your eyes tightly and your body erupted in goosebumps. He smirked, loving his affect on you before sucking on your clit and prodding your entrance with his finger to collect your arousal as he earned a gasp from you.

He locked his eyes with yours again before slowly inserting his fingers into you, your head dropping back against the pillows from the sudden pressure. It was slightly uncomfortable, but pleasurable enough for you to let out a low moan as he slowly began to thrust his finger in and out of you. As soon as your body adjusted to the unfamiliar feeling, you were a whining mess, asking for more as he pushed in a second finger. Your body responded quickly, arching forward as your hips rolled to meet the thrusts of his fingers.

“Fuck Channie,” You moaned breathlessly once you felt Chan’s fingers curl against your walls.

Chan leaned down to press kisses to your neck as his thumb toyed with your clit. You could feel your high approaching once you felt your walls clenching around his digits. Your breathing was fast and short as your fingers gripped the sheets of the bed tightly. It wasn’t long after that your orgasm hit you as Chan helped ride it out before falling back flat against the mattress, while you tried to catch your breath.

Chan was about to say something sarcastic, but before he could, you sat up and reached your hand down and began to rub his length, making him hiss from the sudden pleasure. He grabbed your wrist and looked up at you.

“Not now baby,” He smiled lovingly, “Tonight’s all about you,” He groaned as you tried to tighten your hand around him.

��Chan, I want you to feel good too,” You pouted, which made Chan groan with a smirk on his face as he moved to kiss your forehead.

Chan was about to continue until your hands moved to slide his boxers down his legs, immediately your eyes widening at the size of his length. It was longer than average, but the girth was a lot more than you were mentally prepared for. You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding and reached out to run your finger along the leaking tip before sliding your hand down to the base then back to the top.

He let out a low groan as you continued to rub him, his thick length twitching in your hand. You leaned down to kitten-lick his tip, making him lean his head back against the bed frame as his eyes watched you and you slid his dick slowly into your mouth. You slightly gagged as it hit the back of your throat, but then bobbed your head as you used your hand to rub his length on the remaining part that couldn’t fit in your mouth.

“Fuck baby,” He hissed as he pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail, while you began to pick a pace that best suited you.

You continued at that speed for some time until you felt your jaw begin to ache a little due to his girth. You removed your mouth from his length, moving to just give him a hand job instead of blowing him until he took a hold of you and flipped you onto your back, catching you off guard.

“Baby, tonight’s all about you. Let me take my time and love you,” Chan breathed out with a soft smile on his face.

You couldn’t help the nerves that rose in you as you laid back against the bed, watching how Chan tore the foil packet and began to roll it over his leaking length. He leaned forward to capture your lips in a passionate embrace.

“Here,” He whispered against your lips as he placed your hands on his shoulders, “Just hold on to me.”

You nodded before trailing your eyes down to watch Chan press the tip of his length towards your folds. Almost immediately, you heard him groan as his tip entered your entrance, slowly pushing further as your fingernails dug into the flesh of his skin.

“Shit,” You whimpered, feeling your eyes water once he bottomed out, stretching your walls deliciously.

Chan stayed hovered over you with his dick inside you as he let you adjust. He could hear the way your breaths were short, almost matching his before you adjusted enough and told him to move. With his fingers intertwined with yours, he slowly began to move his hips before gently pushing back in you.

The pain quickly subsided and turned quite pleasurable within seconds. Chan did his best to hold in his moans before dropping down and placing his head in the crook of your neck, sucking harshly as he lost himself in the feeling of your walls hugging his dick so heavenly. Your arms moved from his hands to gripping the bed sheets to wrapping around his neck as you tugged at his locks and before you knew it, your hips were rolling up to create more friction.

“Chan, more!” You whined loudly as you gripped onto his locks tighter to fuel his pleasure.

Chan removed his head from your neck before meeting your gaze as he worried his movements might cause some discomfort. But after reassuring him, you leaned forward to kiss his plump lips before he began to snap his hips against yours. Your back arched as your front was pushed flush against his and you gripped tighter onto his locks. The sounds of your moans and whimpers encourage Chan to continue his thrusts faster and harder. The two of you felt as if you were on cloud nine, you couldn’t get enough of each other.

“Shit, Chan!” You whined, closing your eyes too immersed into the pleasure as his finger playing with your clit to bring you closer to your next orgasm.

His teeth were grazing your skin and his hips swiftly thrusted against yours as the sound of whimpers fell from your lips. Your walls began to clench around him as his thrusts came to a stutter before stilling completely. His free hand gripping tightly on your hip while the other was holding his body up right from crushing you.

"I’m cuming," You moaned loudly, rutting your hips up against his.

You let out a long whimper as your orgasm washed through you. Your front was flushed against his and your legs were locked securely around his waist. Chan continued to rub your clit, getting lost in the moment as he helped you through your high as well as reaching his own. Once you threw your head back in pleasure from the oversensitivity, a sinful groan of your name left Chan's lips as he came down from the intense high he was on.

Chan carefully pulled out before discarding the condom in the bin and disappearing into the bathroom to grab a cloth and a pair of clean boxers. You went to take the towel to clean yourself up, but Chan stopped you as he took on the task upon himself. You smiled softly at him as you put his shirt back on and snuggled into his arms.

"We should probably clean the sheets, shouldn't we?" Chan chuckled as his hands gently played with your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"We can just call for someone to give us new sheets tomorrow. For now, let’s just lay here,” You smiled tiredly at the love of your life.

And he did exactly that. Chan held you closely for the rest of the night. Taking that next step in your relationship only brought the two of you closer together. You felt your heart swell at the thought of Chan being so gentle with you. You were more than happy that he was your first and hopefully, he’d be your last.

⊱ ──────────────────────── ⊰

- Admin 🌶️

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

In Times Past

Character: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bruce Wayne’s life doesn’t exist beyond the fake storylines he performs for the media and citizens of Gotham. Maybe the only person that can change that is someone who knew him before Batman ever even existed. 

Word Count: 8,200+ [One Shot]

Warnings: Violence, mentions of sexual harrassment

A/N: As I teased before, this was inspired by this scene from Batman Begins. 

Bruce could sense Alfred’s tension when he walked into the kitchen that morning. The man was not one to hold back his thoughts and feelings. It was both a blessing and a curse. But Bruce sensed it was the latter today.

Before Bruce could even get a sip of coffee in, Alfred tossed the Sunday newspaper in front of him.

On the front page was a photo of Batman, far too high of a resolution for Bruce’s liking. ‘BATMAN: SAVIOR OR MENACE?’ the headline read.

“A little too close for comfort, don’t you think?” Alfred asked with a hint of sass.

However, Bruce controlled his reaction.

“Not the first time I’ve been photographed, Alfred.”

“You’re dancing with the devil, Master Wayne.”

“So, what? You want me to lay down the cape because everyone in America has the ability to take a photo on their cellphone?”

“Of course not,” Alfred retorted. Though Alfred secretly wished every day that Bruce would say goodbye to the Batman. “I just thought perhaps you should be putting a bit more effort into Bruce Wayne’s life if you really want to throw Gotham off your trail.”

Then he tossed another newspaper. This one of Bruce Wayne, the other mask he wore.

‘Bruce Wayne Lights Up the Room at Charity Ball.’

Alfred points to the date…it was 9 months ago. And it was unfortunately the last time Bruce Wayne was in the press.

“You better start creating alibis, Master Wayne, or the dark web will start to putting two and two together…”

Bruce sighed. He knew Alfred was right. But he hated all that went with what he had to do. He’d rather face off with Gotham’s deadliest criminals than go galavanting around the city as the self-absorbed and reckless playboy persona that he’d created.

“There is a birthday party for Eaton Elliot next weekend. Naturally, being old family friends, you received an invitation,” Alfred explained. “Plenty of press will be there to note your attendance. Seems rather convenient."

Bruce recognized the name. It was the older brother of Thomas Elliot, a childhood friend that he slightly lost touch with. He’d see him or his parents at various events, and things were always cordial.

But it didn’t really matter how absent or quiet Bruce was when it came to maintaining such relationships. Everyone forgave such behavior when it came to saving face with the only living member of the Wayne family. Bruce could spit in the faces of Gotham’s elite and they’d probably thank him for it.

“Black tie affair, as always,” Alfred added as he slipped the invitation to Bruce. “Perhaps you could bring a date…”

Bruce glared up at the butler. “Dates make it harder to make a quick and quiet exit, Alfred.”

“Well, maybe that’s the point, Master Wayne.”

————

Just like he was on patrol or working on an op, Bruce had prepared for every single scenario. He made a plan that would be the most effective in the shortest amount of time. He didn’t want to torture himself any longer than absolutely necessary.

When Alfred asked him again if he was planning on bringing a date, Bruce had only replied with a mischievous smirk.

Because he walked in with a girl on each arm.

It wasn’t the classy or gentlemanly thing to do. And that was exactly the point.

Conversations paused, attention was turned, and flashes went off.

Bruce Wayne made his entrance.

He carefully fell into the groove of being the spoiled brat everyone had painted him out to be. It had been awhile since he played the part, but Bruce always found it easy when he was surrounded by these kinds of people.

Bruce made sure to slightly slur his words. He would get too handsy with his dates. He would rudely interrupt people to share his own useless opinion on whatever topic was leading the conversation. He never looked waitstaff in the eye.

But now it was time for the finale.

Bruce whispered a certain suggestion into the ears of his dates.

They shared a look that proved they were both game.

The three of them stumbled into a bathroom – one out in the open that most of the guests would be steered toward.

The kissing began and clothes were quickly shifted.

There was a split moment when Bruce wondered what this would feel like for a man who actually wanted to be in this situation.

The two woman managed unbuckle his belt, the clanking metal echoing in the all-tile bathroom.

But just as they unbuttoned and then unzipped his pants, Bruce’s cellphone rang loudly.

Right on cue.

“Ladies, ladies, ladies,” Bruce whined. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” his words stumbled out. “But I just have to take this call.”

“Aww. Brucie. You’re no fun,” one of the women fussed.

But Bruce gave off enough dominate energy that they didn’t try to fight him on it.

Hair disheveled, mouth swollen and pink, lipstick stains on his skin and his pants and belt barely put back together, Bruce stumbled out of the bathroom first.

The two women didn’t bother to stay back and spread out their exits, making it very clear what had just happened – or what it looked like just happened.

It didn’t matter that Bruce didn’t actually have sex with them, every woman in Gotham wanted to say they’d shared a bed with Bruce Wayne. His two dates would lie to save face and get street cred. Bruce hated that he knew that, that it was guaranteed.

Dozens of people, who were socializing near the bathroom, stopped what they were doing and watched with judgmental looks. Some men looked jealous. Some women looked disgusted and eyed the two women up and down.

Then there was the flash of a camera.

Bingo.

Bruce wouldn’t have to linger much longer now.  

He played up being somewhat embarrassed.

But just as he put his phone to his ear to take the fake call that Alfred dialed, he saw the last person he expected.

It caused him to do a double take and freeze. 

His focus fell for a moment as they made eye contact.

Why did she have to be here?

Why did she have to be one of his witnesses?

Why did it hurt so much to see how she looked at him as if he were a stranger?

And why did she have to look so god damn beautiful?

Y/F/N Y/L/N.

The Y/L/N family were another one of Gotham’s elite – well, they used to be.

Y/N’s father was once worth billions. But being born into wealth didn’t guarantee intelligence or the skills to properly run the family business. When Bruce and Y/N were in high school, Y/N’s father filed for bankruptcy and confessed that the family was about to lose everything. With the announcement, the press also exposed Mr. Y/L/N’s many lustful affairs.

What came next was a messy and brutal divorce that the media ate up.  

Out of spite, Y/N’s mother remarried her ex-husband’s biggest competitor, maintaining her status and wealth, and making sure she still came out on top. It was the greatest revenge and even Y/N had to give her mother credit for the ingenuity of it all.

Bruce remembered how terrible it all was for Y/N, who was used as a pawn in her parents war against each other.

Having had enough of it, Y/N fled Gotham and chose to live with her eccentric great aunt in London and finished her last year of high school there.

But Y/N didn’t run away from Bruce. They emailed, texted, video chatted, called.

They had always been good friends.

The elites of Gotham always suspected the two would get married. But both Bruce and Y/N pretended to ignore such whisperings.

But when Bruce shifted his life, when he changed his life’s purpose, when he started becoming a vigilante…he stopped taking Y/N’s calls and he stopped returning them.

He told himself it was better that way. He couldn’t handle any distractions. Batman didn’t have time for personal relationships, so neither did Bruce Wayne. But more importantly, Y/N deserved someone who would prioritize her – even just as a friend.

Now Bruce needed to get actually drunk.

Putting the phone back to his ear, he broke eye contact and made a beeline for one of the bars. 

“Did you forget to tell me about the guest list, Alfred?” Bruce muttered evenly to the phone, knowing that Alfred would easily be able to hear his anger and irritation.

“How was I to know who RSVPed yes or no…” Alfred bit back. But he knew exactly who Bruce was looking at.

Bruce frowned as he ended the call abruptly and asked for a whiskey.

“I don’t know, man. She’s not my type,” a man said to his friend.

The two of them were just a foot or two away from Bruce.

“What do you mean ‘not your type’? She’s fucking hot.”

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s beautiful. But she’s so stiff and uptight. Look, she’s had a resting bitch face all night.”

Bruce’s grip on his face tightened as he easily put together who they were talking about. It was moments like these that Bruce hated being lumped together with men like this.

“You’re an idiot,” the friend said with a laugh.

“Oh, yeah? Alright. If you’re so obsessed with her, why don’t you go over and talk to her?”

Bruce saw his window. 

With a sloppy haste, Bruce turned right into the two men and just happened to spill his drink over the man who was about to make a move on Y/N.

Bruce laughed and spilled another drink on the bar as he tried to grab some nearby cocktail napkins. “Gentleman, gentleman…I so dearly apologize.”

Both of them were clearly annoyed, but then realized who he was.  

Bruce gripped them by the shoulders and made sure his eyes were struggling to stay open. “I could be wrong…but it’s possible…that I have been over served.”

He broke out into a chuckle and both men forced their own laughter.

Bruce subtle glanced over to where Y/N had been standing. She’d disappeared.

He’d spared her…for now.

“I think it’s time I go home,” Bruce told them too loudly. “Do me a favor? Wish her congratulations for me?”

The two men looked at one another. “Congratulations? To who?”

Bruce frowned in confusion and looked around. “Isn’t this an engagement party?”

They tried to hide their laughter. “Wayne, this is a birthday party. For Eaton Elliot.”

Bruce’s brows shot up. “A birthday party? Look at that!”

Then he turned around, zigzagged his walk, and threw a wave over his shoulder.

But Bruce wasn’t that lucky.

Because when he made his way to the valet, he found Y/N waiting patiently with her back to him. 

Her fancy dress and gloves seemed to do nothing to help protect her from the cold night. 

Bruce could’ve left. He could’ve left her alone, gone back into the party, and made more of a fool of himself.

But next thing he knew, he was walking forward.  

“Waiting for your car?”

Y/N didn’t turn to him, but it was clear that she heard his question and recognized who it had come from. “I didn’t drive. They’re getting me a cab.”

Bruce nodded slowly even though she wasn’t looking at him.

All charm had left his body now that he had quit the act. It wasn’t going to do any favors for him. He needed to do this on his own, as his real self.

Y/N finally turned with a slight attitude and Bruce was taken aback at how she was even more beautiful up close.

“What are you doing here, Bruce?”

He smirked. “I’m here for the party, of course.” He didn’t want to play the part anymore – not with her. But it was second nature at this point.

Her lips pursed at his response.

“Leaving so soon?” He asked.

Y/N sighed. “Between you and me, I’m only here as a favor to my mother. She wouldn’t get off my back about coming. I tried to leave sooner, but…”

One of the valets hopped up the steps. “I’m sorry, Dr. Y/L/N. It can take awhile to get cabs in the area at this time of night.”

Y/N gave him a sympathetic smile and opened her mouth to say she’d walk home.

“I’ll drive her home,” Bruce spoke before she could. Then he handed the valet his ticket.

Y/N looked at him with confusion and a bit of annoyance. “You really don’t have to do that.”

Bruce just gave her a look that said he absolutely did.

Then Y/N gestured back to the party. “You’re just gonna abandon your dates?”

The way she asked made it clear that Y/N had seen Bruce stumble out of the bathroom with the two of them. He also didn’t miss how she emphasized the plural.

“They’ll be fine,” Bruce told her.

He took a step toward her. “Let me give you a ride, Y/N.”

She took in a deep breath.

She knew she needed the ride. Only an idiot would walk home at this time of night, even if the walk to her apartment was a relatively safe one for Gotham standards.

Y/N just nodded.

A minute later, an Aston Martin drove up.

Bruce offered his arm to Y/N and helped her down the stairs before opening the passenger door for her.

He handed the valet a few bills, not even noticing they were all hundreds.

“Where to?” Bruce asked her.

“Oh, umm…” Y/N quickly gave him her address.

“I know you’ve been gone awhile, but you definitely shouldn’t be walking around the streets of Gotham at night.”

Y/N scoffed. “I’m aware. I moved back awhile ago.”

“Oh. I didn’t know…”

“Yeah. Well, why would you? It’s not like you kept in touch.”

The car filled with silence.

Y/N stared out the passenger window, looking at the skyscraper lights of Gotham

It seemed Y/N had no issue with staying silent for the whole car ride.There was nothing awkward about it for her.

But Bruce knew there were things he needed to say. “I’m sorry.”

This was the last thing Y/N expected and her head whipped to him.

But Bruce kept his eyes on the road. “For disappearing like I did.”

Y/N slowly turned back to the passenger window and said nothing.

Bruce didn’t expect to win her forgiveness. He would have to deal with that. But at least he could apologize.

“Y/N.” Bruce said it ever so quietly, like he was forbidden from speaking it. “This isn’t…I’m not…” Dammit. What was he even trying to accomplish right now? “Back there–”

“Back there?” Y/N interrupted his fumbling. “Oh, you mean the threesome you had in a bathroom at a party?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

Everyone bought his performance. Unfortunately, even Y/N.

Bruce pulled over and Y/N realized they were at her building already.

“You can say whatever makes you feel good, Bruce. Have at it.” Then she threw open the car door.

She put her hand on the handle to help herself out.

But she hesitated.

No. She wasn’t going down without a fight.

Y/N spun around to face Bruce, his blue eyes already waiting for her.

“You used to be kind. Strong and brave. You were better than all of them.”

And for the first time, Bruce really saw the damage he had done.

“Is that boy really gone?” She searched his eyes for the answer. “What is the act and what is the truth?” She whispered. “Huh, Bruce?”

He wanted to tell her.

Bruce had never felt the urge to expose his secret ever before.

But right now? Right now, he wanted to take Y/N back to the manor, drag her down to the cave, and show her all of his secrets – every single one.

But he couldn’t. And he knew that.

Bruce kept his face reserved.

His brow furrowed for just a second as he took Y/N in. All of her. Her eyelashes. Her lips. The styling of her hair. The dip of her neck.

“You became quite the woman, Y/N.” He told her. “And a beautiful one at that.”

Y/N blinked at the statement. Her mind desperately tried to decipher the hidden message in his words, in his actions from the night. But she came up with nothing.

She wanted to say that she knew he was using flattery to divert her attention from what she wanted to know. But it was also clear that he genuinely meant what he said as well. His eyes seeming to be taking in every moment of being in her presence.

If Y/N weren’t so irritated, she probably would’ve been more taken aback by his compliment, feeling vulnerable and almost embarrassed.

There wasn’t any point in pushing.

So Y/N took in a breath. “Thank you for the ride, Bruce.”

He just nodded. Then he watched her walk to the door of her apartment building. He probably lingered a few moments too long, but he couldn’t bring himself to once again put distance between them.

————

Alfred brought down food and an espresso to the cave.

When he looked up, Y/F/N Y/L/N’s face was on the giant screen.

“Working on a case, Master Wayne?” He asked with his usual sarcasm.

Bruce ignored the question. “She attended undergrad in Metropolis and then went to grad school in New York City.”

“Yes, I can see that…considering you have her student records exploited all over the screen,” Alfred responded with a smirk. “She’s been living in Gotham again for a few years, working as a psychiatrist. Even volunteers her services at Arkham – pro bono.”

That caught Bruce’s attention. He turned away from the screen to look at Alfred.

“I found no record of that,” he argued.

“Yes. Well, her mother is rather embarrassed by it. Thinks it gives the family a bad image. She insisted Y/N’s philanthropy was kept secret, even approved the NDAs herself.”

Bruce gave him a look, utterly confused how Alfred had access to such information.

Alfred raised an eyebrow. “Never underestimate the power of gossip, Master Wayne. Most family secrets cannot be found on the dark corners of the internet.” Then he smirked. “You would gain quite the knowledge if you didn’t turn your nose up at it.”

Bruce smiled at that and turned back to the computer.

“So, I take it that it was good seeing her?” Alfred pressed.

Bruce tensed at the question. “Not entirely. I’m certain that she hates me.”

“Hates you or hates the character you’ve so carefully created?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just Bruce Wayne to her.”

Alfred opened his mouth to say more.

“Leave it, Alfred.” Bruce cut off before he could.

“Well, it appears I’m not the one struggling with leaving it alone, Master Wayne.”

Like many of Gotham’s elites, Alfred had humored the idea that Bruce and Y/N would make a marvelous couple. Like Bruce, Y/N didn’t let money and power sway her morals or damage her good and kind heart.

Alfred had always enjoyed having her over and listening to her and Bruce’s laughter as they caused trouble around the manor and entertained themselves.

But he also saw how her departure effected Bruce, no matter how much the teenager had tried to hide it at the time.

Maybe Alfred was an optimist or a romantic, but he still believed there was a chance for the two of them. But Bruce, quite frankly, would have to get over himself and his stubbornness.

————

Bruce was looking down at the city from yet another rooftop. It had been a quiet night. And he hated nights like that. It was always ended up being the calm before a storm.

“Batman?” Alfred spoke into his comms.

“Yes.”

“It appears there’s been a breakout at Arkham. The media hasn’t caught wind of it yet. But law enforcement has already been dispatched.”

“I’m on my way,” Bruce announced as he slid down a fire escape and made his way to the batmobile that he’d hidden in the shadows of an alley.

“Master Wayne…” Alfred knew to only use codenames on comms.

Bruce tense. “What is it?”

There was hesitation from the butler. “Y/N was scheduled to work a shift there tonight…”

Bruce said nothing. But his foot pressed the gas pedal down further than necessary.

—

Y/N was sitting with a patient when the alarm went off.

The people that worked there called them inmates, and corrected her every time she chose not to use that title.

Harleen Quinzel had been sitting across from Y/N for almost 30 minutes when they were interrupted.

“Oh, fun!” Harley clapped and giggled as the sirens filled their ears.

Harley and Y/N had formed an interesting relationship. The criminal seemed to like her and looked forward to her visits. She never threatened Y/N or tried to manipulate her.

Y/N believes she won her over by addressing her as Dr. Quinzel and often asking her professional opinions on trends and news in their industry. 

Most people there only referred to Harley as if she was property of the Joker, no matter how many times Harley clarified that she wasn’t his anything anymore.

“Does this happen a lot?” Y/N asked her, trying to remain calm.

“Not enough, if ya ask me!” She laughed.

Y/N made the mistake of opening the door and seeing that the majority of the cells had been opened and prisoners were slowly making their way into the hallway.

“Not good,” Y/N muttered.

“Don’t worry, doc. I’ll protect ya! Us gals gotta stick together.” Harley said from behind her shoulder.

Y/N whipped around and looked at her and then at the table she’d been sitting at. “Dr. Quinzel! How did you get out of your restraints?”

“Oh, I’ve always been able to. I just leave ‘em on to be polite.”

Y/N sighed. No one had explained any sort of protocol for such a situation.

“Where the fuck are all the guards?” Y/N asked.

Suddenly the lights shut off.

“Yippy!” Harley cheered.

Y/N turned to her and softly grabbed her shoulder, but gave her an insistent look. “Harley, we need to get somewhere safe.”

Her face did dip to serious for a moment. “You don’t need to worry about me. But you’re right. Not everyone in here appreciates a shrink…”

To her surprise, Harley starts pulling her through the darkness with a purpose.

Y/N had no idea where she was planning on taking her. It seemed all the doors were in lock-down mode, leaving her stranded. If she survived tonight, she’d definitely be bringing that up to the board.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Y/N yelped at the sound.

Someone had either gotten a hold of a gun or security guards were opening fire.

Either way, it caused chaos to erupt.

Suddenly the dark hallways were being filled with a stampede of prisoners. Either they wanted to take down the guard who was shooting or they were getting an adrenaline rush at the concept of their peers attacking their wardens.

The crowd ripped the two women apart. Y/N was shoved up against the wall and her head slammed against the cement.

Y/N swore under her breath from the pain.

“Is that…No, it can’t be…”

A voice called out over the madness.

A chill went up Y/N’s spine. She’d know that voice anywhere.

The Joker.

He wasn’t one of her patients. All researchers and doctors were forbidden to speak with him – especially after what happened with Harley.

But that didn’t stop the Joker from knowing who Y/N was. He whined and whined about feeling left out. “All my pals get to chat with her and all I get to do is look!”

Now, Joker was free from him isolation.

Y/N suspected he was behind the breakout.

And he was going to make a slight detour. A detour that was doing whatever the hell he wanted to with Dr. Y/L/N.

Y/N didn’t even bother hiding her fear. With a new found strength and endurance, she started shoving her way through the mob.

“I hear you and my pumpkin�� pie have gotten close.” Then his smile dropped. “Too close, if ya ask me.”

Y/N ignored him as another prisoner shoved into her shoulder.

“I don’t appreciate you putting ideas in her head!”

Y/N stopped, realizing she had miscalculated her escape and had come to a dead end.

So she slowly turned around to face him, putting her back to the wall. “And what ideas are those?”

“Independence. Self respect. A life beyond crime and incarceration,” he spat.

Y/N realized he had his goonies flanking him, only making her odds that much worse.

“Those aren’t ideas. They’re a reality, a possible future,” she defended.

Joker didn’t like that answer one bit. He threw himself against her, once again slamming Y/N into the wall.

He gripped her chin roughly and smiled with his yellow teeth. “You know…she’s not the only doctor I’d like to break in. And in more ways than one, if you catch my drift,” he giggled.

Then his eyes raked over her body, up and down. His hands slid down her hips and the side of her legs until they got to the hem of her pencil skirt.

Y/N shoved him away with all of her strength. 

But that earned her a slap across the face from him.

Joker gripped her waist tightly pressing her between the wall and his body. “I’m in charge now, doc. And I’ve got a few lessons to teach you.”

His hands grabbed at the buttons of her blouse and with one jerk, he ripped open her her blouse.

But before he could go any further, a few of his lackeys cried out in pain. 

Y/N swore she heard the sound of objects whipping through the darkness. 

She didn’t want to let herself feel any relief. But she hoped Harley had made her way back to her. She’d probably pack an even heavier punch once she realized Y/N needed protecting from her asshole ex.

But when Joker turned around and Y/N followed his gaze, Harley was nowhere to be found.

Yet three men were on the ground, unconscious.

“Well, well, well,” Joker muttered in amusement. “Has Batsy come out to play?”

Next thing Y/N saw was a shadow dropping down out of nowhere and taking out even more of Joker’s men.

Joker seemed to be prepared for such an interruption. Because he grabbed a knife from somewhere hidden on his body and ripped Y/N off the wall. He pressed Y/N’s back to his chest and put the tip of his knife to her throat.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” Joker sang.

To Y/N’s shock, Batman stepped into what little light was in the hallway.

“Long time, no see!” Joker screamed so loudly that Y/N flinched. “Did you miss me, Batsy? And you came all this way to see little old me?! How very sweet!”

“Your attempted escape was a failure,” Batman stated. “There’s nowhere for you to go. All the exits are blocked. Arkham has been contained.”

“What a shame! I really felt this one was gonna work!” Joker laughed.

Batman took a step toward him. “It’s over, Joker.”

“You’re probably right,” Joker shrugged. “But I really wanted to have some fun with doc here. So, if you could give us some privacy.”

Batman’s eyes flickered to Y/N’s for a brief moment. “Let her go,” he warned.

“How about…no?” Joker laughed.

Just as Batman was about to make his move, Y/N grabbed the wrist of Joker’s arm that held the knife. She twisted it and dived in such a succinct motion that it was obvious Y/N had been trained.

Whipping herself out of Joker’s grip, she twisted Joker’s arm so roughly and quickly behind his back that he had no choice but to drop his knife from the pain.

Then Y/N was now facing him, and with one swift swing of her leg, she kicked him right in the groan.

Batman saw his opening and rushed forward, cuffing Joker in place.

While Batman neutralized him, Y/N stumbled for the knife that Joker had dropped, still not feeling safe and out of danger.

She looked around, realizing that the police had filtered in and apprehended all the escaped prisoners. Some were already locked back into their cells. Other’s were in handcuffs with guns being pointed at them in warning.

“Dr. Y/L/N,” his voice made her whip back around.

How the hell did Batman know her name?

She squinted wearily at him.

“You can drop the knife,” Batman told her quietly.

Y/N blinked and looked down at her hand, having forgotten that she even grabbed the knife. And she now had a vice-like grip on it.

Her hands were shaking when she dropped the knife and the clatter echoed in the hallway.

She eyed the Joker, not trusting any sort of weapon to be in his vicinity, despite being handcuffed now.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Batman noted, as if he could read her mind and hear the concerns she was thinking.

Police officers surrounded them now.

“Until next time, doc!” Joker sang loudly.

Batman stepped between him and Y/N, shielding her from even being seen by the lunatic.

Y/N eyed him, wondering if he did that on purpose.

“This way,” he directed lowly as he led her out of the hallway.

Y/N was surprised when he escorted her all the way out of the building.

Wasn’t this supposed to be Gotham’s Dark Knight? A disappearing act? An urban legend that some people still didn’t believe in?

When they got outside, there were even more officers. The night was flickering blue and red from all the patrol car’s lights still being on.

Commissioner Gordon was having a field day with Arkham’s warden, yelling at him about lack of protocol and no protection for the volunteers and workers that had gotten caught in the crossfire.

But finally, the reality of what just happened was starting to set in for Y/N. And she realized that her entire body was shaking.

All of a sudden, a blanket was wrapped around her shoulders.

She looked up to see that Batman had draped it over her. When and where he’d grabbed it, she had no clue. But the warmth was helping, so she didn’t question it.

“Thank you…for saving me back there.”

Was that a smirk on his lips? Was Batman amused by her?

Why was it so comforting when he was a mere stranger?

And his eyes, even when they were surrounded by a cowl and dark paint, they still felt familiar. Y/N had a similar feeling to deja vu.

“Looked like you had it handled,” he replied.

“Oh, I definitely didn’t. But thank god for those self-defense classes.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a second.

“Make sure you get checked out by the paramedics,” he told her gently, but insistent.

It was far too gentle for his Batman alter ego. But she caught how it sounded like it personally mattered to him.

Y/N looked behind her, where the ambulance was.

But when she turned back around, Batman was gone.

Next thing Y/N knew, she was being surrounded by two paramedics and Commissioner Gordon who was careful not to push her by asking too many questions at once.

“Does he always do that?” She asked him in a daze.

“Do what?” Gordon asked.

“Disappear like that?”

Gordon smiled and nodded. “Annoying, isn’t it?”

———

“What’s the gossip of the privileged this week?” Bruce asked Alfred at breakfast a few days after the outbreak.

“Something specific you’re looking for, Master Wayne?” Alfred asked as he poured Bruce a big mug of coffee.

Bruce glared at him, knowing he was playing coy with him.

But he put his pride aside. “How is she doing?”

Alfred took pity on him. “She took some time off work. But seems to be handling it better than expected. Makes quite a bit of sense, doesn’t it? Her being psychiatrist and all.”

Bruce just nodded with a dazed look.

“You could always see for yourself…” Alfred added.

Bruce snapped out of his daze and looked up him questioningly.

“You could go see her,” Alfred confirmed.

“Alfred, don’t you start.”

“Start what, Master Wayne? Pushing you to form any sort of relationship?”

Bruce sighed and got up from the breakfast nook. He didn’t want to fight with him, so he’d made his exit before that happened.

“Batman has plenty of friends,” Alfred stopped him. “But what about Bruce Wayne, hmm? Who are his friends?”

“You saying we’re not friends, Alfred?”

“I’m all you’ve got, Master Wayne. And that’s my point.”

Before the discussion could go on any further, the doorbell rang.

The two men shared a look. 

No one stopped by the manor.

Alfred made his way over.

Bruce figured he’d wait where he was. But the front entrance was too far away from him to overhear any conversation.

A few minutes later, Alfred walked in with an unreadable expression.

“Dr. Y/L/N is here, Master Wayne. She is waiting for you in the drawing room.”

Bruce opened his mouth to tell him to make an excuse and get her to leave. But Alfred was already disappearing, making it clear that he would do no such thing for him.

When Bruce walked into the drawing room, he found Y/N’s back to him as she looked at the family heirlooms and trinkets that were displayed on the shelved.

She was dressed casually, which caught Bruce off guard since he’d only see her in formal wear and professional outfits since their reunion. Her hair was in a messy bun and she didn’t appear to be wearing much makeup, if any at all.

“Hi,” he greeted softly, making her quickly turn around.

“Hi,” she replied.

Bruce stepped further into the room. But neither of them moved to sit in any of the many seats that surrounded them.

“I heard what happened. How are you doing?” He asked.

She nodded and shrugged. “Alright.”

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Bruce admitted.

Y/N ignored his comment and her eyes went around the room. “I missed this place,” she thought aloud. Then her eyes fell back to his, softening. “I missed you.”

Bruce was taken aback from her confession. Seeing as the last time they were together, she was rather blunt about how disgusted and disappointed in him she was.

The energy between them felt so different than last time.

To his surprise, Y/N stepped toward him. And she didn’t stop until she was at a proximity that most would call rather intimate.

There was a voice in the back of Bruce’s mind, urging him to close the last bit of distance and place his lips on hers. But he managed to ignore it. That didn’t stop his heart from beating faster, though.

Y/N stared into his eyes for a few seconds, almost like she was searching for something.

“I have something that belongs to you…”

Bruce waited, not sure what she could possibly have to give him.

But then she pulled out one of his batarangs from her coat pocket, offering it to him.

She had found it embedded in the wall when she had gone back down to grab her personal belongings that night. 

Bruce kept his face composed. “I’m not sure I understand.” 

But he grabbed it from her anyways.

“He’s you,” she whispered. “Or I guess…you’re him.”

Bruce let out a breath, “Y/N…”

She took step away from him. “Don’t lie to me, Bruce.”

So he shut his mouth and said nothing instead.

“I’ve been doing some research. Things started lining up,” Y/N explained. “The first Batman sightings were right around when we stopped talking. The more Batman was in the press, the less Bruce Wayne was. And when he was, it was never positive – like it was meant to be a distraction.”

Her eyes went sad. “I never understood how the boy I used to love could grow into the man I’m so disappointed in. It never made sense.” She paused. “But when you wonder if the man himself is the mask, it all fits.”

“I’m sorry.” Bruce hung his head slightly. “I couldn’t tell anyone. Not even you.”

“I’d never share your secret.”

“I know,” he answered instantly.

Y/N couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer. Her eyes welled with tears. “Bruce…living like this has its consequences.”

Bruce said nothing.

She stepped forward and grabbed his hand. “You can’t change the world on your own. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Y/N wasn’t giving him advice. She was offering him something.  

Her trust.

Her secrecy.

Her love.

He shook his head, but gripped her hand tightly. “You would just end up in the shadows with me. And I…I can’t do that to you.”

“I’m stronger than you think,” Y/N defended.

“I’ve always known how strong you are, Y/N.” His jaw tightened at even the thought of being selfish. “You deserve more than what I can give. Gotham will always come first. That’s the sacrifice I made. That’s what is required. I can’t be what you need.”

Y/N studied his face, knowing that there would be no winning with him.

She nodded once, not even slightly hiding her heartbreak and disappointment.

Then she stepped closer and gave him a slow kiss on the cheek.

“It’s not a one time offer, Bruce.”

Bruce couldn’t move a muscle. He was rooted in place.

He heard Y/N have a short conversation with Alfred, then the door closed, and she was gone again.

———

Bruce Wayne was a fool.

Alfred could probably make a list, in seconds, with a hundred reasons why.

But, no, Bruce Wayne was a fool for believing Y/N would give up so easily.

Two weeks later, Y/N was at Wayne Manor again.

Bruce knew something was going on when Alfred didn’t seem surprised in the slightest.

In one of her arms was popcorn seeds, twizzlers, sour patch kids, and chocolate covered pretzels. In the other arm was a case of beer.

Y/N barely said hi to Bruce as Alfred helped her out of her coat and took the things out of her grasp so she was no longer struggling to hold it all.

“I’m here to use your theater,” she announced.

And with that, she walked right past Bruce like she owned the place.

Bruce looked at Alfred and silently asked, ‘What the hell is going on?’

“I believe you have a guest to entertain, Master Wayne.” Then he looked at the items in his hand. “And I believe I have some popcorn to make.”

Bruce still didn’t move.

“You successfully closed yet another case last night, it’s Friday night, and you have a beautiful woman who decided she wants to spend her time with you. Best you don’t keep her waiting, Master Wayne.”

Bruce narrowed his gaze as if telling Alfred they’d discuss this matter at another time.

“I presume you shouldn’t go empty handed,” Alfred added quickly and handed Bruce two beers from the case in his arms.

Bruce chuckled, but started walking away. “I’m surprised you even let this stuff in the house, Alfred.”

When Bruce reached the theater, Y/N had already started a movie.

He watched her a for a moment before she could realize he'd joined her. 

Y/N looked like she belonged there. Even after all this time apart, she just burrowed herself a cozy nook in Bruce’s life.

It was something she had been able to do even when they were kids. When Bruce had his mood swings or his depressive episodes, Y/N didn’t scare. She just found her way to stay at his side without upsetting him further.

Bruce grabbed the seat to the left of hers.

They weren’t really seats, more like small beds. A dozen were placed in the theater.

A couple could easily share one, but Bruce wasn’t planning on even approaching that fine line.

When Bruce sat down, he didn’t look at Y/N. But she gave a shy smile at his joining.

It was a long movie – almost a 3 hour run time.

And Y/N almost made it.

Without only 30 minutes left, Y/N had fallen asleep. Meaning Bruce’s attention was now taken from the movie.

He got up and grabbed one of the many blankets in the trunk hidden in the corner and placed it carefully over her, before silently leaving.

This was not a one time thing.

These type of visits continued.

Bruce knew Y/N and Alfred had to be in cahoots together. 

Y/N seemed to always come to the manor when Bruce needed her most. 

Alfred would force Bruce out of the cave and moments later, the doorbell would be ringing.

On the bad nights, she wouldn’t make him talk. She wouldn’t ask questions or try to make him magically feel better. Sometimes she would talk – mostly about mundane things. She’d tell Bruce about her day or how her neighbor always left baked goods at her door or about the new show she started watching. Sometimes she wouldn’t say anything at all, just sit there silently and make sure he wasn’t alone.

Sometimes she would bring coffee and pastries.

Sometimes Bruce would just walk into the library and find her reading.

Sometimes she would sit and chat with Alfred as if he was the reason she was visiting, and not Bruce.

Bruce couldn’t sleep one night. Nothing specific was causing his insomnia. Just the overall weight of being so many people.

It was 3AM when Y/N texted him to open the door for her because she didn’t want to wake Alfred.

When Bruce did so, Y/N was standing on the other door in sandals and a slightly transparent coverup that barely showed the outline of the bathing suit underneath.

He said nothing, but his face clearly showed that he wanted to know why the hell she was there in the middle of the night.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Y/N told him quietly. Then she shrugged a bit,“I decided I wanted to go for a swim."

Whether she was lying for his benefit, Bruce wasn’t sure. But he followed her to the indoor swimming pool like a sailor would follow a siren.

Without hesitation, Y/N kicked her sandals off and tossed her coverup on the nearest chair. And the next second, she was diving into the pool.

Bruce smirked at her nonchalance, but made sure to hide it when she breached the surface once again.

“Doesn’t your apartment building have its won pool?” He asked.

Y/N smiled and tilted her head back to get her hair wet again and out of her face. “They put too much chlorine in it.”

Bruce crossed his arms, “I see.”

“Coming in?” She asked teasingly.

He shook his head.

“At least keep me company,” she requested.

Bruce glared playfully at her, knowing the game she was playing.

But he finally sighed and nodded.

He was in cotton shorts and a t-shirt. But he decided to sit on the edge of the pool and dip his feet in.

He watched as she swam around, looking as natural in the water as a mermaid. She had always loved swimming as a kid and it appeared not much had changed.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” He finally decided to break the silence.

Y/N swam to him and crossed her arms on the edge of the pool to rest and tilted her head to look at him.

She shrugged, “The usual: stress, nightmares, insomnia, too much caffeine.”

 Bruce’s concern spiked instantly. “Nightmares about what?”

She watched him for a moment, seeing how quickly her subtle comment triggered him.

“You’re not the only person who’s seen fucked up things, Bruce.”

An hour later, Y/N asked for a towel.

When she climbed out, she was taken aback by Bruce wrapping it around her shoulders and rubbing her down gently. It was innocent, but subtly intimate.

As their eyes locked for a prolonged time, and he seemed to realize what he’d done accidentally.

Y/N cleared her throat. “I should head home and let you try to get some sleep.”

“You could stay,” he offered. “I mean, we have plenty of bedrooms here,” he quickly added and saved himself a bit.

“Is that…what you want?” Y/N asked slowly.

Bruce knew what she was trying to ask. He didn’t trust himself to answer the way he should, so he didn’t answer.

“Let me drive you home,” he asked as they left the indoor pool and started toward the front entrance.

Y/N ignored the request until they were at the door. She turned to face him with a smug look, “I’m perfectly capable of driving myself. Thank you.”

She hesitated before kissing him on the cheek. “Get some sleep, Bruce.”

————

Months after Y/N’s visits started, Bruce was doing some research for a case on his tablet as he ate dinner.

“Margaret Caulfield’s engagement party is tonight,” Alfred broke the silence of the manor as he took Bruce’s finished plate.

Bruce looked confused on why he was supposed to care.

“Y/N will be there,” Alfred added.

But Bruce still didn’t understand what he was trying to say.

“Master Wayne, when you attend all those sufferable parties, what is the first question people ask you?”

Bruce thought for a moment. “When I plan on settling down, I guess.”

“Now imagine that, but magnified by about 100…and that is what Y/N’s experience is at those same parties. That young woman is one of the brightest people in Gotham and all those people care about is who will put a silly ring on her finger.”

Bruce leaned back in his chair, now understanding what Alfred was getting at. “I’m not her boyfriend, Alfred.”

“And you’ve made damn sure of that,” Alfred said a little too harshly.

Bruce watched him carefully.

“Y/N has fought off every one of your attempts to be a miserable recluse.”

Bruce opened his mouth.

“And don’t you dare try and tell me her efforts are wasted,” Alfred cut him off. “I’ve seen a change in you. And she has asked for absolutely nothing in return. She’d never ask you to pick her over Batman. Though she bloody well should!”

He wasn’t done.

“You’re not living, Master Wayne. And I won’t apologize for wanting more for you.”

Bruce just sat there and took it.

Alfred took in a breath, calming himself down. “There’s a suit waiting for you in your bedroom. I’ve decided I’m going for a evening walk.”

——————

Y/N didn’t know how many more champagnes she’d have to shrug to start feeling the buzz she so desperately needed.

Not even an hour of being at the party and she’s already been asked 15 times if she was seeing anyone. And when she answered no, half of those ended in them trying to set her up with someone.

As Y/N was trying to think of an excuse to escape, an old family friend approached her – a friend of her grandma’s unfortunately.

“Y/N, dear, let me see those hands!”

Y/N wanted to roll her eyes and snap, but she did as requested.

“No ring yet,” the woman teased, but she was also genuinely disappointed.

“That would be my fault, actually.” A voice said behind Y/N before she felt a hand on her lower back.

“Oh, Mr. Wayne, how nice of you to come!” The woman beamed. “Now, Y/N, why wouldn’t you tell anyone that you and Bruce are an item?”

“My fault again,” Bruce chuckled, “I’ve always enjoyed a good secret.”

Before she could ask more, Bruce smiled politely. “If you could excuse us for a moment.”

He steered Y/N to a private area of the party.

“What are you doing?” Y/N hissed at him. “The press are gonna have a field day. You and I will be every headline tomorrow.”

He smiled at her frantic concern.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m serious!”

Bruce captured her lips, silencing any further panic from her.

Y/N was completely caught off guard, but he wasn’t letting her go so easily. And soon, her hand went to the back of his head and she kissed him back. 

Damn all the people who were probably watching them.

When Bruce finally let her pull away, he smirked at her dazed look and cupped her cheek. 

She matched his smirk.

But then reality set in like a splash of cold water and she frowned.

“Am I – Is this your new cover?” She asked shakily, so scared that the answer was ‘yes.’

She could tolerate being Bruce’s friend for the rest of her life. But she wouldn’t survive being used in such a way. She couldn’t live in a fake relationship with a man she actually loved. She’d rather watch his sloppy persona with girls hanging off of him.

“No cover-up,” he muttered to her. “Just me and you – the real me.”

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

I worked so hard on this 😩  Please let me know your thoughts. 

[notsocheezy]

I reblogged this without comment earlier, but I think maybe I shouldn't have. Sure, I want to believe this is all true, and much of it absolutely is, but there are parts that just don't make sense to me.

I know I'm only eight weeks out from surgery. I'm not an authority on the topic. But I've done months of continuing internet research on all this, and seeing this post earlier this year was part of what gave me the confidence to go through with the procedure.

Here's what's got me confused, all things I just sort of accepted before:

2. I've been repeating this one to people who have questioned my transition, and not that it matters, but... Do gynecologists not notice that it just bottoms out in there? There's no uterus. I think about it for a moment and I don't get it. Also, isn't the color different? It is for me. My surgeon told me the only method with pink on the inside is colonic (put a pin in that).

3. There is little data to be found on dilation after a year - or at least, if there is, the surgeons aren't paying any attention to it. They can't seem to agree on how often one needs to dilate, but my care team recommends thrice a day for three months, twice a day for another three, and once daily indefinitely. Others recommend once a day from the beginning and only once a week after a year. There are different answers depending on which hospital website you check. But what I can say for sure is that it's misleading at best to say this without clarifying that during early healing you need to dilate to keep it from losing depth/width or closing shut. Every source agrees on that.

4+5. Self-lubrication and self-cleaning are more or less the same thing. My question is this: what "spare internal mucosa"? The closest thing to that that I've heard of is the colonic method, which has perhaps even more misinformation around it than any other vaginoplasty. Needless to say, the colon is not "spare," it's an important part of the digestive tract and taking a piece of it has implications on recovery. Recovery I would not so far describe as "not that bad" (see my V-Day posts for further detail - I had Peritoneum Pull-Through, essentially Penile Inversion with pizzazz).

6. That's great, but anecdotal evidence is not evidence. The only study I've personally seen on this says we're slightly more prone to UTIs, especially as we age. It isn't settled science, but it does make me very sad.

Maybe I'm way off on all of these points. Maybe that magic vagina really exists and maybe someday mine will be like that too. I want to believe that, I really do. But I can't see it, not after everything I've been through.

I think what I'm doing here, broadly, is adding more context, rather than accusing the OP of lying. I chose not to get a colonic vaginoplasty because I didn't want to risk more complications or put up with constant discharge for the rest of my life. Frankly, I like sleeping in the nude and I can't afford new sheets every month. If this was never actually a problem, I'm disappointed that even surgeons would make unproven claims that haven't even been studied.

But if this post is intentionally misleading, let me remind everyone of a general rule: Misinformation is still misinformation even if it makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside. And even that sort can hurt you.

Yeah so anyways, contrary to popular misconceptions and fear mongering spread by bigots, post op trans women's vaginas are amazing actually. 💛

[love-amihan]

PLS I READ YOUR PROMISE FIC WITH JUNPEI AND IM SADDDDD 😭😭pls can you possibly do an alternate happy ending where junpei does survive or just fluff for him💓

| ʜᴏᴍᴇ | ᴊᴊᴋ | ᴀᴏᴛ | ʜǫ | ꜰɪʟᴏ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛs | ᴍɪᴍɪ |

TRUST // YOSHINO JUNPEI

amihan's note: you got it nonnie!! the first op scene scarred me emotionally, here's our bestboi doing his best! happy reading!

summary: itadori yuji became a huge part of yoshino junpei's life in a span of a day. junpei putting his trust on yuji resulted to a more promising future ahead of him.

bf!junpei x gn!reader

"zenin maki, panda..." mei mei says after yoshinobu asked them why they insisted on meeting with him.

aoi soon continues her words, "fushiguro megumi, kugisaki nobara, yoshino junpei, and my brother itadori yuji. these are the six, that i, by my name as todo aoi..."

mei mei fixes her hair following aoi's words, "and i, by my name mei mei" the two utters in sync declaring the goal for the meeting, "...recommend for first grade"

nobara looks back at the three boys she’s currently with, “quit being a slowpoke.” you smile at nobara, “let’s calm down now, there’s a lot of sale we haven’t check out yet.”

nobara looks back to you then at the three, she huffs and links arms with you, “you guys are lucky they’re with us or else i would’ve beaten all of you to pulp,” she excitedly walks with you to yet another store that’s having a sale.

“but they’re my partner,” junpei mutters, looking at the two’s retreating back, hand reaching out that’s full of shopping bags.

yuji chuckles at junpei’s misery, “you gotta get used to it, what’s yours is technically hers too.”

junpei’s mouth drops looking at yuji, “for real?!” the two started conversing, voices getting a bit louder. megumi walks ahead of them, blushing from embarrassment.

“junpei,” yuji nudge his side lightly, the three are ahead of them leaving them a little behind.

he hums quickly glancing at him before looking back at you again, “about the ring,” junpei halts and gives his full attention to yuji.

“what? something wrong?” the pink-haired asks, also stopping. junpei looks down, his shoulders dropping, yuji’s eyes widens.

“you-” junpei didn’t let yuji finish the sentence, just answering him with a nod for confirmation. “that’s it! we’re helping you!” yuji exclaims, full of determination.

“help with what?” megumi pipes in, hands in his pockets. “junpei’s proposal!” yuji smiles at megumi, his usual stoic face faltering after hearing the news.

junpei punches yuji’s arm lightly, blushing from the bold statement. “i’m not proposing!” he turns to megumi clearing the confusion, “it’s a promise ring.”

megumi lets out a small ‘oh.’ “what’s the difference?!” megumi rolls his eyes at his friend, “there’s a big difference.”

you appear in the scene together with nobara who’s glaring at them. “difference with what?” you skip beside junpei, giving him a small smile.

he shakes his head, nervously laughing, “it’s nothing.” you squint your eyes at him making him look away with a small blush.

you hum not wanting to push further, “wanna get ice cream?” you reach out for his hand intertwining your fingers with his.

nobara clicks her tongue, arms crossing over her chest, “boys and their stupid talks.” she turns around leading the way, “she’s extra cranky today,” yuji mutters staring at her retreating back.

you shrug, giving yuji a soft smile, “menstruation maybe?” yuji lets out an exaggerated ‘oh.’

junpei laughs a little while patting yuji on the back, “this is why you’re not popular with girls,” junpei says as yuji looks back at him.

“you’re starting to act like nobara too!” yuji looks at him, frightened. “it’s the truth,” megumi adds in and follows nobara, “and you guys are supposed to be my friends” he mumbles, looking dejected.

“at least, y/n’s nice to me.” you put on a sweet smile, “well truth hurts, yuji.” his lips forms into a pout, walking ahead not before muttering “bullies” under his breath.

the first years are summoned by satoru saying he has another mission for them, “he said it's top secret,” megumi informs them.

nobara shakes her head, “when wasn’t?” yuji soon changes the topic while making their way to ijichi's car.

“nobara’s good with planning surprises,” he says out of the blue causing for the rest of the first years to raise a brow at him.

“the promise ring,” the two boys nods in sync, understanding him. “ring?” nobara slightly tilts her head to the side.

junpei nods at her, pulling out the box from his uniform showcasing the ring. “this... for a promise ring?!” junpei rubs the back of his head.

“is it not nice for a promise ring?” nobara shakes her head, her eyes sparkling from admiration. “you might as well propose to them with this!” junpei blushes at the thought, “don’t be ridiculous, we-we’re still young!” he stutters in panic.

“oh come on, they will say yes,” she gives back the box, “no doubt about it."

junpei looks away, tucking the box back in his uniform pockets, “you never know that” he mumbles, yuji interrupts by clapping his hands together.

“we should make a plan,” in which nobara agreed on, “i’ll do it since it’s y/n.” junpei looks back at nobara and shakes his head, “you really don’t have to,” she waves her hand dismissing his statement, “i’ve already decided.”

for the second time today, you almost tripped on something while blindlessly reaching out.

yuta is doing an awful job telling you where to and not to go, “i'm so sorry y/n” he bows his head even though you’re blindfolded.

he didn’t know how he ended up being the one to assist you when he's really bad at communicating with others, “we’re almost there” he informs you.

you don’t know what to expect since there wasn’t anything special today, your birthday is still months away.

“what's with today yuta?” you face where you think he was which yuta corrects, “it won’t be a surprise anymore if i tell you.”

that didn’t stop you from trying to know until you feel one last little push, “huh? yuta?” you aimlessly try to find him until you feel someone take both your hands.

you try to retract your hands but stop once you hear a familiar voice, “it’s me,” junpei’s soft voice reaches your ears.

junpei slowly removes the blindfold off you, you blink trying to clear your blurry vision. once you did, you see all the effort and preparation put in all of this.

flower petals are thrown everywhere, fairy lights decorating the tree, to wrap it all up love songs softly playing in the background.

he's always been the romantic type and he never fails to amaze you every time, you look at him with pure adoration in your eyes.

you start to panic holding his hands, “i-is it our anniversary?!” you stumble with your words, feeling terrible for forgetting such an important milestone.

junpei shakes his head, smiling at you, “i wanna give you something, darling” you nod and wait for him to continue.

“y/n, my love. you’ve been with me through everything, may it be a pleasant or bad memories, you're always there by my side. you’ve always come to pick me back up to my feet when i'm down..." he takes a deep breath.

he continues, "what i’m trying to say is… will you grow old with me?” junpei looks into your teary eyes, “i want to be by your side until my last breath, you’re my everything y/n” he opens the box and showing the ring.

“of course i would baby,” you hold his face and close the gap between the two of you, kissing him passionately.

after pulling away, he slide the ring on your ring finger. “this is just to seal our promise, you better fulfill them” he sniffs and chuckles at his shakiness.

you lightly hit his arm while laughing, “you know that i would” he kisses the back of your hand admiring the ring.

“this is beautiful darling, you’ve always been a sweetheart” you hold his hand and look around.

“i love you” you smiled at him, “i love you more” he pecks your lips, the group coming out from their hiding spot.

clinking of glasses echoes the room accompanied by loud cheers of best wishes. yuji swings his arm around junpei who's laughing with you not long ago.

“you remember junpei?” both of you look at yuji, a little lost with his sudden outburst. “when we helped you with your first proposal?” yuji’s words are slur as he continues to rant.

“ahh that does bring back memories,” you smile at the thought, you bring your hand up and look at the ring.

“and now look at you!” yuji starts getting emotional, the alcohol may have started to kick in. “two of my best friends will get married soon,” he sniffs, tears now running down his face.

nobara laughs at drunk yuji while maki scolds him for drinking too much, it’s amazing how the group stayed together throughout the years.

even after graduating, all of them, including you knowing how they grew fond of you, making sure to stay in contact.

junpei smiles in malice, he decides to add more on yuji’s emotional state, he pats yuji’s back as megumi assists him.

“go and have your rest, best man.” yuji looks at junpei with big puppy eyes, his brain processing the information before breaking out in tears.

“be-best man?!” toge laughs in the background holding two thumbs up while panda stops maki from pouncing on toge for fuelling on junpei’s actions.

the group is already in their twenties yet one thing that never changes is how chaotic it has always been.

they really did bring out the best of junpei, you remember how he finally opens up to them and how he warmed up to the second years during the kyoto goodwill event.

it was tough for junpei at first, his experience would be best described as how yuta was treated back in his 1st year.

but the big difference is that junpei has yuji, with yuji's persistent approach and friendliness they soon take a liking of junpei.

the group feels more like a family than a bunch of friends in junpei's eyes, well for all of you.

it's a little family who you can freely express yourself to. he especially got close to toge, they talked about movies, planned pranks on the other students, they’ve made really good memories alongside each other. thus, toge’s antics rubs off on him.

you giggle and look down at the rings, it’s beautiful seeing them together.

“daddd, i’m already grown up” your child whines at junpei who’s babying him, “no, you’re not” he denies as he fixes your child’s collar.

the two of you are now married and have a child together, “come on now dad, stop that” you tease junpei, siding with your child.

the kid flashes a big smile and runs to you, jumping in your arms sticking their tongue out at him.

junpei huffs, crossing his arms and faking to be upset. “guess you won’t get ice cream later,” his tone in a sing-song manner, knowing their weakness.

the kid gasps loudly and looks at him with the most betrayed expression, their little banter is soon interrupted by a greeting.

“junpei-sensei!” one of his students greets making you smile fondly at the sight, he’s really come a long way.

his students who've always looked up to him and respected him. they never miss a chance to greet him outside the school, junpei smiles at his students greeting them in return.

this is yoshino junpei’s simple life, married to his first love, a small family with them, a supportive group of friends he made through the years, and finally a job that he loves doing.

this all happened because of the one decision he made that changed everything for the path ahead of him.

all because he put his trust on his long time friend, itadori yuji.

copyright © 2021 by love-amihan all rights reserved. do not repost in other platforms. reblogs are welcome and highly appreciated! <33

[creativenicocorner]

Piggybacking off of @undeadchestnut​ ‘s wonderful thoughts in this post  (and decided to make my own post because although my thoughts are in the ballpark it might deviate from the posts original intention - and that’s not fair to op ) 

I am eternally glad I’m not alone in these thoughts! Because I absolutely believe Jim has never resolved his trauma both on screen and off. 

And what we see in ROTT is the unfortunate consequences of that, be it as an anxiety induced nightmare or not.

 It is a cautionary tale all the same.

The show has always had a sort of brushing away from trauma and skipping away from a moment to mourn (most likely to get to the next pretty thing or fart joke). It’s a little less in season 1 but still.

And yes, that choice could easily be an executive decision in trying to keep the target audience entertained and laughing - which is fair, but also not so fair. It would have been amazing - especially under the brand name of GDT monster lover extraordinaire - for a kids show to take the time to teach its audience that mourning and looking out for yourself is Important and Needed otherwise there’s a risk of self destructive tendencies developing and heightened stress affecting behavior and judgment [ point to slightly out of character Jim ]

Children should learn how to mourn, and know yes it is sad, and those feelings are okay and should learn how to navigate through them in a healthy way. Its just as important as occasionally scaring kids in shows - they are far smarter and cleverer than we give them credit for and sometimes showing sadness and scary things is beneficial! Just look at Inside Out! Or just any interview with Neil Gaiman on the importance of this!!

Gaiman confesses that the “Hansel and Gretel” fairy tale really frightens him, but he does believe that children must be exposed to dark stories. Gaiman thinks that “if you are protected from dark things then you have no protection of, knowledge of, or understanding of dark things when they show up. I think it is really important to show dark things to kids—and in the showing, to also show that dark things can be beaten, that you have power.” quote from here [x]

And while TOA had attempted this they never committed to it! And the attempts and commitments has, in my opinion, depleted since after season one.

Season one ends with Aargh turning to stone, and Jim watching Toby mourn, and in turn making a choice to go into the Darklands alone instead of taking the time to mourn WITH Toby. Season two after showing how Jim in the darklands alone was Not a Great Idea At All and wonderfully shown the teamwork between Jim and Nomura and was saved from Gunmar with the help of Jims friends. That sharing the burden leads to better results than carrying it alone. Season three we have Merlin going ‘no friends! only you!’ and thus begins the return of Jim’s hero Atlas ‘its gotta be me’ complex. Granted!! It’s not always there!! But the instigator sure is.

But I’m getting ahead of myself ldkjg What I’m underlining is Attempts have been made, these topics have been brought up, but there has been a lack of confidence in committing to it. Most likely due to executive and producer influence - which brings me to...

And while we can go as in depth as we want, we cannot ignore the cold hand of that ever present shadow of Capitalism and Showbiz Executives. The company has products to sell and watching kids cry is not going to sell little plush toys. Showbiz gotta showbiz, and when producers think fart jokes sell more toys than tears well..[vague hand gesture] you get some questionable disappointing choices.

But I digress.

ROTT could have had this wonderful potential in showing that Jim has finally learned and accepted that he doesn’t have to do this alone. Putting this immense stress on an individual and not showing how to share the burden leads to questionable choices!! Cue the previously mentioned self destructive tendencies and warped behavior.

The theme discussed as far back as season 2 is ignored, and instead we go digging even more into the whole Atlas spiel when the Atlas thing (I think) was more of a cautionary nickname given by Strickler. It was originally the Titan Atlas’s punishment to hold the heavens. What was a mythological condemnation is treated as Jim willingly putting the weight of every burden on his own shoulders and that’s not okay!! Not great for adults and especially not great for teens!! And while mythologically speaking Atlas does eventually get relieved from his duties with the Pillars of Hercules, Jim does not! He turns away time and again from a support system that could help ease the weight on his shoulders.  (yes I know the Pillars has multiple stories, but I’m choosing the power of friendship one on this).

Young Atlas does not choose liberation or Pillars of help in ROTT, he passes the burden of the heavens to Toby instead. Jim does not resolve his trauma but pushes it away, and hurts (unintentionally or not) those around him in the process.

The Krohnisfere - which is a very wonky way of spelling CRONUS or CRONOS or KRONOS (The Titan of TIME btw) - could have been used as a plot device in learning to take the time to process, resolve trauma, and care about yourself.

Which sounds potentially boring mixed in with a bunch of magic and robot mecha fights (well not to me lkjg) but it could have been done in an interesting and creative way!! Jim could learn to take the time tor process and accept help and we could still get the giant mecha pacific rim reference fights (and subsequently sold toys that looked like robots). What I’m Trying to say is, they could have done so much more with all of this and still get this message across. 

Anyways ROTT is a cautionary tale on what happens when you don’t take the time to take care of yourself, and subsequently hurt others and (intentionally or not) pass trauma onto others.  

So take the time to take care of yourself kids!! Because THAT is how “Krohnisfere will make right.”

Or as Strickler famously quoted Billy Joel’s song James in Season 1, Episode 1 said, “Do what's good for you, or you're not good for anybody.”

This is one hefty 2 cents on my part  and a very wordy way of saying HARD AGREE, but what can I say? 

ANYWHO I’m HCing Jim wakes up from this nightmare back at his house at the end of Wizards, and asks Barbara and Strickler about potential therapists he can see, and has a heart to heart, and Jim/Young Atlas finally finally learns to accept the Pillars of Hercules/his friends + support group. 

Because no one should be condemned to hold up the heavens alone. You’re not alone. 

Best Wishes,  Nico

[wizkiddx]

unusable faces

i have exams hence why i needed to write something exceptionally cringe :)

PSA: this is completely inspired from one of my fave writers own blurb @blissfulparker​ --> completely recommend u go read hers its much better than anything i could ever write!!!! (and just her whole account) = link

Summary: pure exhaustion and mutual pining, Tom Holland x actress!reader

^(just thought this was cute, doesn't really fit aha but full credit to op!!)

A scheduling nightmare would be putting it lightly. Perhaps almost unavoidable but that didn’t make it any less of a hellish form a torture. Harry had very helpfully said it actually was a form of torture, that is sleep deprivation. Y/n loved her job - it was all she’d ever really wanted - yet that thought was quickly becoming not enough to get her through the day. Not when it felt like an interrogation tactic used by the CIA. 

To give a quick timeline of the past few days may give a little context:

Thursday - filming the fight scene all day plus an evening-turned-half-the-night-shoot due to some technically difficulties delaying the process.

Friday - flying to New York while doing read throughs of scenes for the next few days; followed immediately by getting glammed and filming the tonight show with Fallon; then a dash across town to the late late show with James Corden; then straight back on a flight to Atlanta that landed at stupid o’clock in the morning

Saturday - a full day of shooting in a mock grand central station set

The press trip to NY had been unplanned… to say the least. But the star of their studios other new release had taken ill - meaning they had slots booked on some of the biggest talk shows in America that would just be abandoned (angering the shows bookers too). It was a waste of perfectly good promo time and since the studio had their two other stars together doing a block of reshoots - it wasn’t a conversation. Much more a call demanding the two of them to be on the plane.

Normally this wouldn’t be such an unmanageable ask either, except the reshoot block was really rather time pressured. You see, the promo tour wasn’t far from beginning meaning they really needed the final film in the can. So really it was a bit of a mess. Just to free up that single day the two were in New York the whole schedule had had to be rejigged - in doing so they’d lost a rare day off too. It was just typical.  

The joys of success hey?

Well, that’s at least what Y/n was making herself think whilst her incredibly talented SFX artist was in the process of crafting a deep wound onto her upper arm. The reason why she would be ‘dripping with blood’ whilst at a train station was beyond Y/n to be honest - she hadn’t been allowed to read a lot of the script so even now as filming was drawing to a close, the story arc of the movie she was headlining was still a little ‘fuzzy’.

“So I watched your ‘spill your guts’ thing on YouTube” Ellie giggled whilst reaching over for more prosthetic putty- a technical term apparently

“I’m glad one of us enjoyed the experience” Y/n replied with a sigh, rolling her eyes at the mischievous smirk on her face - no doubt Ellie took great joy out of seeing her suffer through eating a thousand year old egg. Which Y/n swore the taste of was still in her mouth… and it seemed as though it’d never leave. 

“Oh don’t worry darling I did too” Nelli called over from the next chair along, where she was doing Tom’s makeup for the day of shoots. “Between that and the animals on Fallon, you made a hell of a lot of people laugh last night” Tom’s artist was referencing the fact one of Jimmys other guests was a zookeeper, so at the end of the interview he had you and Tom join in trying not to scream at the snakes and spiders.

“You mean laugh at us?” 

“Well of course darling!” Nelli exclaimed back in an overdramatic bronx accent making all three of the women burst out laughing, Ellie’s unceremonious snorts echoing through the trailer only egged them all on more.

Tom in response, who had otherwise been absent from conversation for the majority of the morning, exclaimed a curse and jumped up in his chair. While you and Ellie collected yourself, Nelli apologised to him.

“Oh sorry love, I’m interrupting your snooze with my uncontrollable comedic gift” She spoke sweetly, even if still taking the moment to flaunt to the other women, as she squeezed his shoulder compassionately.

“No no” Tom waved off her apology, attempting to rub his eye before Nelli swatted his arm away - a stern look for the risk of ruining all her hard work she’d put into making his face look half presentable. 

“I’m impressed you can sleep while they poke you with all these er instruments” Y/n added in, having only just realised Tom had been in a light sleep for god knows how long they’d been in that chair. It did seem a bit unlikely, being able to fall asleep as you were dabbed, prodded and brushed. 

“Maybe you should try though Y/n… your purple eye bags are proving a struggle even for me” Ellie quipped back, now it was Y/n’s turn to give the stern look. Tom took the explain though, shutting her off from whatever kindly meant insult she was about to throw back at her friend. 

“No normally never, I just….” He was cut off by an ear splitting yawn, appearing almost powerful enough to crack his jaw - which would be a disaster, for no one should ruin such a beautiful and sharp jaw line. “…uh-sorry. I just think I ended up taking my NyQuil and DayQuil the wrong way round in the madness of yesterday.” Only Tom, the poor kid often seemed to lacking in any form of common sense - even if those closest to him knew just how intellectual and passionate he could be about the right topic. Affectionately, Nelli scalded his idiocy by jokingly swatting his head with a little tut.

“I can’t believe your still standing then! I’m barely alive and I don’t have any sedatives in my system.” It was true, Y/n was at that stage where every part of her body felt ridiculously heavy… eyes included … eyes especially. 

“But I did sleep on the jet back while your stupid self was studying the script!” Tom replied with a pretty inarguable point - at the time he knew her actions were stupid;  when their flight took off at 11 PM he was certain that the most valuable asset to his ability to act in the reshoots today would be sleep - rather than character development. And he’d tried to convince Y/n that briefly, but gave up. She was bloody stubborn when she wanted to be. 

“Stop competing about who has it worse cos I think it’s me and Nell”Ellie announced - making Nelli agree empathically with her coworker, nodding her head as she looked first to Y/n in her chair then back at Tom.

“Yeh because we have to deal with your unusable faces!!”

After much sarcasm thrown back and fourth, the trailer slowly ebbed it’s way back into serenity and peace as both artists focused on their work. Once Nelli was done she excused herself, Tom staying in the chair in favour of studying (more like staring blankly) at the dialogue for this mornings scenes. His pretence didn’t last long though and while Ellie was busy adding the final touches of fake blood to the now almost completely believable gash that she’d crafted on Y/n’s arm - Y/n had her attention focused the opposite way.

At poor little Tom. He looked so childlike, his slightly puffy eyes looked as if they had weights tied to them - they way he was having fight against gravity to flutter his eyes open, before loosing the next second only for the process to repeat as they dragged downwards. The broad muscles of his neck occasionally seemed to occasionally let up a little, letting his head tilt slowly at first until it gathered enough momentum to throw him off balance. The then sudden movement of his head unconsciously pulling itself back in line caused his eyes to bolt open prior to the whole cycle repeating again. All Y/n wanted to do was let him lay down someone, her heart feeling a tug in her chest just seeing him like that. 

Ellie proclaimed her completion of the wound, leaning back to admire her work before looking to get an affirming nod from Y/n. Yet instead, she was too preoccupied gazing at the boy slouched across from them. “Someone seems a little distracted.” Ellie smirked, finally garnering Y/n’s attention, only feeling more and more smug watching a light tint appear on the actors cheeks. 

“I-well-no… we need to go.” Y/n ignored her words as though nothing had happened, instead rushing off the chair to get Tom out the chair and onto the awaiting set. They had places to be.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (bcos im lazy)

Honestly when the director, Ed, called for lunch break, it was pretty apparent to be purely as a compassionate gesture to Y/n and Tom. Both of them had tried so hard this morning to fully commit, even so they’d both been almost completely useless. Y/n kept missing cues whilst all Tom’s actions and lines where slow, dragged out and at times completely prompted from someone behind the cameras. 

So when the lunch break was called there was only one thing on Y/n’s mind and what sandwich was available in the mess tent was not it. Still standing on the set next to her fake holdall bag she looked toward Tom, who was pulling himself up to standing from the train station bench - the pace of his movement making him look more like an old man. 

“You good?” His answer was predictable. 

“I’m so fucking shattered”

Tom swore he’d never heard anything sweeter come out of Y/n’s pink lips than her next statement.

“C’mon I know somewhere we can lie down.”

Without any sort of thought Tom blindly agreed, nodding as he took her outstretched hand in his. The gesture in itself brought a fresh wave of comfort to his aching limbs and as his feet stumbled to catchup with her slight head start he leant the majority of his weight into their connected hands. 

Neither would admit it but they were ‘a thing’… whatever the hell that meant. It was clear as day to everyone and anyone that worked closely to the two but neither of them had ever broached the topic with each other. They’d worked on a few films together over the years; each time they got closer and closer to the point any job without the other simply wasn’t as good. It was scary though, especially for two actors in the prime of their careers. If they weren’t working the same film they’d likely be the opposite side of the world to each other most of the time - quality time together would be few and far between, Really their jobs didn’t suit dating at all, yet it would be perhaps easier if one half of it worked a ‘normal’ job. Something with consistency, a regular structure. A level of dependability that neither Y/n nor Tom could offer to the other. 

So it was terrifying, acknowledging the growth in their magnetic attraction to each other. Both were acutely aware that doing that, confronting their feelings, would most likely signal the beginning of the end. 

Although none of this stoped Y/n from returning the gesture, tilting her shoulder into Tom’s left side as they took slow steps through and then out the set building. She steered the two past the hair and makeup trailer and round into a store and extra equipment trailer. Tom tilted his head as she climbed the stairs whilst beckoning for him to follow - it didn’t seem like the most obvious choice. Rolling her eyes, Y/n explained.

“It’s where all the blankets and coats and kept for the raining scenes plusssss no one will disturb us in here.” Again Tom was not in a position to disagree, eyes drooping as his shoulders sagged to the floor. Right now he’d take anything. 

So he climbed up the stairs and shut the door behind him, just as Y/n flipped the light on. She was right, it was well equipped and with an almost mountainous supply of red blankets that normally the crew and extra would all be wrapped up in after the freezing rain scenes with all the ‘waterfall machines’ as Y/n called them. However it was also um…. It was cosy. “Oh I don’t think I realised how small it was” She chuckled lightly, since now the door was closed her back was pressed up against the far wall of cabinets and still her front was mere millimetres from Tom.

“I…I don’t mind… if-if you don’t?”

“I’m too tired to care” She giggled in response, and Tom , now with her seal of approval, immediately started ransacking the piled shelves for all their worth creating a floor carpeted in the pale red of the blankets, in an attempt to make it more cosy. Joining in, it was almost remarkable how quickly their bodies suddenly agreed to move, with the new promise of rest mere moments away. 

Once the trailer was fully drowned, Tom kicked off his costume shoes and threw his jacket off - it haphazardly landing by the doorway. Y/n copied him, leaving her stood up whilst he had the advantaged of already settling down on the floor, her standing and looking down at him.

The space between the two opposing shelving units was not close spacious enough for two people to lie down whilst keeping a respectable level of personal space. Suddenly feeling a wave of awkwardness, Y/n stayed standing, wringing her hands slightly - whilst fairly certain Tom could hear her heart running at 100 mph. 

“You er… gonna stay there or?” Tom, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t a complete idiot - he could see she was suddenly self conscious. He got it too - they’d never crossed this boundary of choosing to cuddle into each other. It had happened once of twice accidentally over there 2 years of knowing each other. Both of those times it was completely accidental, falling asleep watching a movie with a safe distance of space b between the two, only to find hours later their bodies almost completely intwined. Tom would be lying if he said that his heart didnt skip a beat when he had awoken to Y/n’s soft and gently breath fanning into his neck. He’d loved it, but understood that was unconsciously breaking down part of the wall they’d both been the constructors of.

For fear of getting hurt. 

So now, as Y/n awkwardly bent down and lay on her side, he thought it was imperative to make her feel comfortable. Naturally then, his arm slid round her shoulders and pulled her down toward his chest, releasing a little breath as he felt her relax, her legs slowly wrapping round one of his. 

“This okay?” He murmured, now into the crown of her head as she lay half on her side half on his chest. In reply she nodded into him and Tom couldn’t help but grin- unbeknownst to him but Y/n was doing the exact same thing. 

The peace lasted all of 3 seconds until she groaned again.

“What?” Tom enquired as she wriggled out his hold and stood up. Instead of replying though she just leant over and flicked the one harsh light bulb off making Tom chuckle as she fumbled her way back onto the padded floor in the darkness, earning a few grunts from both as she accidentally kicked Tom’s thighs or banged her head on one of the now empty shelves. Fumbling her way back into a comfortable position, occasionally cursing when she stubbed her toe- or Tom did when she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs. 

“Comfy?” Tom asked a little sarkily as he squeezed her a little more into his side.

“Mhmmmm… I’m gonna sleep for 100 years”

“Yeh me… me too”

And with that they both almost instantly and in complete unison sagged into each other and the blankets - the pent up stress and tension of the past few days ebbing away.

What the pair had neglected to remember was that sleeping for 100 years wasn’t really an option. The whole crew of 50 people, who wanted to restart filming after 45 minutes, had not been told about Y/n’s little hiding place. The pair were so completely safe in their own little cocoon of comfort they were completely oblivious to their teams calling there names more and more frantically. Completely oblivious to the game of hide and seek the situation had descended into, completely oblivious to Harrys natural annoyance as the director asked him for the whereabouts of the two stars - as though Harry was childminder to the pair of them.

It was Nelli who found them first. She’d and Ellie and Tom’s manager had all been recruited by Harry as part of the man hunt. Both girls, having seen first hand the state of the two this morning, were fairly certain they’d both crashed out somewhere. So Nelli, already with a sneaking suspicion, opened the door gently, her figure blocking the majority of the light from seeping through to the dimly lit inside. The sight she was met with had her actually pouting at the cuteness - and yes its a cringey word but also the only one appropriate.

Between bedding down and barely an hour later the two had managed to become impossibly tighter pressed to each other. Y/n’s face was pressed into the crook of Tom’s neck and his arms seemed to have pulled her on-top of him almost completely. Her left leg was hooked under his right, which was then sandwiched by his left too. They both looked so pure and innocent and god did Nelli know they both needed any extra time they could get.

Nelli cared a lot about Tom, she’d been working with him from the beginning, from the child star days to now. She cared about him like her very annoying surrogate son and she wanted to see him looked after. She also so completely wanted the two stars to stop pining after each other. Because frankly it was getting a little frustrating for everyone else. 

So she chose to tactically forget about her discovery, sneaking a photo on the sly before silently pulling the door closed and leaving them to their sleep. 

[rainydayhues]

I read your season 4 thoughts and do agree about Lucy’s character. I think she’s still a smart cop and all the sunshine! But when it comes to Tim calling off the bet or asking out Ashley, what do you think? Because it makes me nervous and I’m so not looking forward to that story at all!

Eek my first ask! Thank you Anon! And thank you for reading that rambling analysis, it was long but I had some thoughts!

Yes! I think she's still been shown to be a smart and capable cop, she told Nolan what to do with that explosive, works with Nyla to solve the scavenger hunt per Grey because he sees her smarts, took on the ghost/stalker in her building and solved a multi-tiered real housewives plot all while directing Tim in UC work. I do think she's played a lighter side this season and I know it doesn't jive for everyone but personally I've enjoyed it. I've liked seeing her banter with Tim and play that familiar side. So much of their relationship has been grounded in heavy moments (Isabel, Lucy's kidnapping) and those were fabulous and I look forward to more but I do like that their conversations lately have been just chill. I think for whatever reason the show doesn't want to get too deep into the Jackson of it all, which yes, it is disappointing but if that's the path, I am embracing the banter which honestly reads to me as them being more carefree with each other and on equal footing, unafraid to joke and tease and roll eyes at each other. But I do hope for a big Lucy story/episode in 4B - something with her parents or UC, maybe?

Now, I will say I wrote about Tim's character extensively as well and that was before 4x07. I will agree that calling off the bet was ooc and it does confuse me (seems like one writer gone rogue!) but outside of that, I've also enjoyed Tim this season. I like that he thinks about what people will perceive of him and Lucy working together and that he played hard to get when it came to being his aide (bc you know what? Lucy played harder to get and won!). He opened up about what he imagined for himself with kids and his willingness to be open with her is growth in their relationship to me.

Now the Ashley of it all, why I not only am not bothered by it but also am maybe a little intrigued by it, I kept under the cut just because I know it's not everyone's fave topic...

Apologies if you've read my other post on this but I'm just paraphrasing myself:

- it's the first relationship/date post Chenford being TO/rookie so I think it's somewhat different from the Emmet/Rachel era

- there's potential here for others around Chenford to call something out bc no one has explicitly yet in the show (outside of some looks, looking at you Grey!). Imagine Angela (or in an ideal world his sister Genny) mentioning how he is with Lucy or how he's different with Ashley

- I think/hope it's this thought about Lucy that pushes him towards Ashley but I hope that same thought is what ultimately pulls him away from her. A realization he eventually comes to about this not being the long term relationship for him, something always being just slightly off, just a bit amiss.

- Lucy's jealousy could be fun! - I stand by the fact that her jealousy over Webb was more professional than personal and I don't think she was ever jealous of Rachel because they were truly friends and she respected the boundaries there. And if this gets Lucy to even acknowledge something she's feeling within herself that maybe she hasn't touched on since the hug in 4x01, great!

- Tim's jealousy could be (more) fun! - Lots of folks have discussed this but Lucy can have a love interest for all of the above reasons as well! There's a potential rumor an actor was cast and is following Melissa and crew, if he ends up being a (temporary) love interest, I'm down with it! It could be fun if he's someone she has to work UC with and then he flips the script after the op and asks her out, bonus if it's in front of Tim!

Which is all to say, I think there's potential in the storyline and it may not be everyone's cup of tea but I've usually seen some great angsty, pining, "that just shook my world" moments come out of "new love interest" storylines in my other ships/shows so I'm not down about this one.

Again, TY for the ask, anon! Feel free to pop into my asks anytime, I always want to talk Chenford!

[schnitzelbutterfingers]

Baklava

Book/Pairing(s): The Royal Romance || Liam Rhys x F!MC (Jasmine Wilson) LAW STUDENT AU

Category/Warning(s): Teen || none

Word count: 2.7K

Premise: A different take on how Liam and Jasmine could have met. Liam and the gang search for baklava, and Jasmine is a law student and a talented baker, working in her mother’s bakery.

Author’s note: This is for the 200 FOLLOWER GIVEAWAY WINNER #2: @texaskitten30 . Congratulations! Hope you enjoy :)

New York City is known for its culture, fashion, Broadway musicals. Its approximately 8 million people.

Maxwell sighs. “C’mon, Liam. There are so many other desserts. Pie, cake, cupcakes, those drizzled thingies...”

He is right. The deserts here are magnificent. Every one of them is fireworks on someone’s tongue, the rich flavor evading the mouth.

Drake surprises him. “For once in my life, I’m going with Beaumont.”

But there is one thing New York City seems to not have.

“No,” Liam responds.

Baklava.

Maxwell open his mouth, but then closes it, flabbergasted. 

“Who are you, and what have you done to Prince Liam?”

The prince chuckles wryly, a sarcastic leer taking place. In a few months, he won’t be able to do this again. In a few months, he will marry a noble with no love in between. 

In a few months, his freedom will be over.

He has to make those few months worth it.

And he will.

By finding baklava.

However, Liam almost gives up. Every bakery they went to in New York City had everything, including Indian sweets, such as laddu, gulab jamun, jalebi.

But they weren’t selling anything from the Ottoman Empire. They weren’t selling baklava.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees a small building. A bakery. It has a small cupcake on the top of the name. 

The prince clears his throat.

“We’ll stop in this bakery. If they don’t have baklava either, then we can go buy cupcakes and go to a bar.”

Maxwell fist bumping the air and Drake sighing of relief, tells him they are both comfortable with his plan.

One more bakery.

That’s it.

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

Slow Dough.

That’s the name of the bakery. Immensely creative.

The three men step out of their rented car, the sun’s rays showing off its magnificent light, creating shadows as they take each step towards the bakery.

They open the door, the jingling bells on it acknowledging their presence.

It looks beautiful. The inside of the store takes on a more pastel theme, the baby pink with white stripes adorning the walls. There are sky blue tables and chairs, adorned with a vase of pink roses on each table.

The front of the bakery has a glass counter-shelf, filled with delicacies. Cupcakes, cookies, chocolate, ice cream. You name it.

Maxwell seems to have that same idea because he says, “Maybe we can steal some cronuts and-”

“Maxwell!” Drake admonishes.

“Hello? What is the commotion here?”

A woman, probably in her fifties, with natural tanned skin, paces into the room from the silver doors ahead of the counter, which Liam assumes is the kitchen. Rather than taking a chiding tone, her voice is laced with concern.

Liam glares at his two friends, Maxwell sporting a nervous smile. Drake shakes his head at Maxwell’s antics.

What good friends he has.

“Apologies for the loud... conversation ma’am. We were searching for a dessert named baklava in New York City. We searched almost every bakery we could find, but left empty-handed. We were hoping we would find some here?”

The woman grimaces. “I’m so sorry, son, but we don’t sell baklava here.”

The prince sighs. 

He knew it. Of course he did.

After mentally calming himself, he sports a tender smile.

“No worries, ma’am. In that case, would you mind giving us three cupcakes? One vanilla and the other two chocolate, please?”

“Now that, I can give you.”

She smiles as she opens the counter, probably finding the best cupcakes she could find.

The woman is probably the most solicitous person she ever met during his bachelor party.

The men sit down on of the chairs, surprisingly more comfortable than Liam imagined. They fall into an agreeable silence, with Maxwell playing with one of the pink rose petals, and Drake glued to his phone.

And they are interrupted. By a soft voice.

A beautiful voice.

“Excuse me, sir, but... did you say baklava?”

He stands up immediately to turn towards the voice, addicted to the melody.

And hazel eyes meets blue.

The lady looks like an exact copy of the older woman, only more younger. More irresistible.

Striking.

Even with glasses on.

For some reason, his heart starts beating faster.

Silently scolding himself, he straightens up and nods his head affirmative.

“Yes, is there a reason why you ask?”

“I happen to know how to make baklava. Do you want me to make some for you?”

Shock rolls over him as he mulls over her words. An American tries to help him?

He glances back at Drake and Maxwell. In return, they give him an exact sense of a whammy blown on them. They are probably thinking the same thing, too.

Liam discerns the older woman slapping her hand on her forehead in an almost idiotic sense, walking to stand next to the younger woman.

Twins.

They are practically twins, if people count out the wrinkles.

“Apologies, son. She is my daughter. She knows how to make almost everything.”

Liam softly grins at the mother and turns to look at her daughter. 

A beauty.

As if she came from a painting.

Majestic.

As if reading his thoughts, she takes a glimpse of his face and smiles. He catches a glimpse of a faint blush creeping on her neck, even with the tanned skin.

Liam allows himself a quick smirk and hurriedly straightens his face to a more gentle expression.

“What’s your name?”

She clears her throat and looks at him straight in the eye. “Jasmine.”

Maxwell gives her a wide smile. “Nice name!”

Liam and Drake nod their heads in agreement, looking back at Jasmine. She grins from ear to ear.

Her smile is infectious.

And Liam just met this girl.

“I’ll get started. I can set up a mini cooking show for you guys. This might take over an hour though. So, are you sure?”

Before Liam can respond, Drake interrupts.

“We can wait. This dude, here, was acting like he was waiting for baklava his whole life. If he doesn’t get his hands on one, he’ll probably punch something.”

“Drake!”

Before he can give him a new one, he hears Jasmine’s laughter, music to his ears. He only knew her for about 10 minutes, and something makes him want to get closer to her.

He can see scars sprinkled on her chest.

She’s an air of mystery.

Mystery.

“I can most definitely understand that feeling. I’ll go gather the ingredients!”

She flees like a small human Sonic, and he infers for a second that she did track in school. 

Maybe she did.

Jasmine comes back with nuts, cinnamon, dough, butter, sugar, water, honey, vanilla extract, and a lemon. After buttering up a thick pan, she sprinkles in a bunch of nuts and cinnamon.

Just like those chefs gave him a show and made baklava for him back in Greece.

Maxwell starts speaking, most likely attempting to make small talk during the awkward silence.

“So... where are you originally from?”

She softly smiles.

“Queens, New York. We moved to the city when I was 10.”

“What made you move to the city?”

“Oh, well...”

Jasmine slightly hesitates.

“My father had passed away, and we had to do something for a living. So we started this bakery...”

A tense silence invades the bakery, Jasmine quickly swiping her eyes. Maxwell grimaces, and Drake takes over.

“We’re so sorry. We didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable...”

She shoots him a weak grin. “It’s okay. It still hurts, but we’re trying our best to move on.”

At this point, she places two sheets of dough into the pan, and butters it up. She then layers it with nuts and repeats the process. The prince makes a mental note to remember these steps the next time he attempts in making baklava.

He tried to make baklava once, but failed, even after searching the internet to find the recipe.

It had been proved to his friends how much of a bad cook he is.

Liam attempts successfully in changing the topic, in a way to console her.

“Are you a student or...”

“I am! Final year law student at Yale.”

His eyes widen. “Yale? That’s impressive.”

Her mother comes back from the kitchen. “Wait till you hear how she skipped five grades and will be graduating as a lawyer at the age of 21.”

The gang’s eyes widen.

Wow. 

They’re speaking to mini Albert Einstein.

“Mom!”  The law student covers her cheeks in an attempt to stop the light rose pink that’s flooding her face.

Maxwell smiles wickedly. “That's so COOL! Liam, here, is the same! He managed to even excel better than his tutors. One time, he was making fun of them because they got a calculus problem wrong, and he managed to solve it in less than five minutes! He skipped three grades, but always managed to make tutors mad and made them speak to his parents because of his smart mouth-”

“Maxwell!”

Drake chuckles.

“What? It’s the truth!”

She chortles again. That melodic laugh.

“It’s alright. I did that every time, too.”

Jasmine cuts the baklava into diamond shapes and puts them into the oven. She stretches her arms out, unsubtly displaying off her muscles.

Damn.

“Alright. This’ll take about 50 minutes.”

Comfortable silence flows through all of them, Liam enjoying the clock ticking surrounding the small building.

Drake cuts it off. “We forgot to tell you where we’re from. We live in-”

“Cordonia, I know.”

Liam's breath catches.

A part of him wants to berate himself for being so idiotic. For believing that maybe one person won’t know who he is. But he should have known.

He should have known.

Drake closes his mouth and opens it again, unable to say anything.

“Wait, so you know Liam is a prince?”

“Crown Prince, yeah.”

“Then, why didn’t you let us know and treat us like normal people?”

“Because I know.”

Turning to him, she says, “Liam, all you’ve ever wanted was freedom.”

His eyes widen. He feels like he’s being mind-read by a fortune teller. At that moment he should’ve felt uneasy, but all he wants to do is open more of himself to her.

And that petrifies him.

“How... how do you know?”

Jasmine’s expression turns stoic, indecipherable.

“Your eyes. They express everything. You feel like you’re being locked in a jail cell. I was once like you, you know so I know that look anywhere...”

Her eyes turn misty, but she quickly shakes her head.

“You do want to lead your people, but you want to be free in choosing someone at the same time. You want someone you’ll fall in love with.”

Her educated guess is mind-boggling. Straying his eyes back to his friends, they appear as if they’re seeing Liam in a new light. Shocked.

That they didn’t know anything about this, and they’ve known him for years.

Maxwell shakes his head. “Wait, but... if you knew who we were, why didn’t you address Liam as ‘your highness’? Don’t get me wrong, we liked how you didn’t...”

Jasmine snorts. “Because even through he has royalty flowing through his blood, he is a human, just like us. I don’t mean it to be offensive, I swear. While titles also show respect, they put more benefit for someone than for another ‘commoner’. And I don’t like that.”

Liam becomes curious. Jasmine is not one of those average girls who shrieks over a celebrity. She is one of a kind.

And that makes him want to know everything about her.

“Say if... you became a queen one day. How will you rule?”

The law student takes a deep breath before responding. She unconsciously touches her dark brown hair, and twirls a curl over her finger.

“I... I would never go by the rule book. While rules are good and all, sometimes... it would lead to injustice. As Princess Diana said in her interview with Martin Bashir, I would  want to become a queen of people’s hearts, not just for a country. I would be there to do good, not cause harm or difficulty over another citizen’s life. I’m not a violent person. Quite the opposite, actually. I would want to be treated as a typical person with a typical life. I would want to be treated as an everyday person. And... I would want everyone to reminisce me as a woman who did good works, not as a woman with a prestigious title.”

Everything is confirmed. Drake’s mouth opens and closes as he tries to respond to what Jasmine just said. Maxwell has a goofy grin on his face.

Liam, however, has a cheeky smile that one would actually say is of respect and admiration. He admires her.

Even as she now bites her lip, he wants nothing more press his lips to hers. 

And they’ve only known each other for about an hour.

The oven alarm lowers the mounting tension in the bakery. Jasmine jogs over to the oven and takes it. The delicious smell of baklava invades Liam’s nostrils, and he immediately wants to taste it. Looking at the pastry, the gorgeous crispy brown of the dough stands out, with green nuts garnished.

“Take caution! It’s really hot.”

Maxwell smirks slightly, already reaching for a baklava. “Oh, I don’t think it’s that- HOLY SQUIDS!”

The once smirking Maxwell now has a face of pain etched on his face, holding his right hand after it burned a little. Jasmine, seeing this, snorts.

“Told you so.”

Shaking his head, Liam -carefully- takes  a piece of baklava, blowing it slightly to soothe the heat. Once it is lowered to a considerable heat, he takes a bite out of it and-

My.

God.

It is scrumptious.

And it appears that Drake and Maxwell are thinking the same thing, their friends’ eyes filled with astonishment.

Jasmine bites her lip, most likely unaware of the action. God, if he could just-

“So, did you like it?”

Shaking off his dirty thoughts, he responds, “Like it? This is the best baklava I’ve ever tasted.”

Her wide eyes contain jouissance, Liam can tell.

“Thank you! Glad I didn’t mess it up!”

Jasmine blushes again, something Liam just knows is a rare sight for anyone.

Just then, her mother comes in, sauntering hurriedly up to them. Her eyes are tense and full of worry.

“So... how is the baklava?”

Liam smiles, hopefully soothing her mother with the action.

“I can reassure you, even the most famous chefs in Greece hadn’t made me this tasty baklava before in my life. It tastes like heaven, ma’am. Your daughter has talent.”

She sighs in relief. “Thank you, sons!”

Without hesitance, the mother kisses Jasmine on her cheek, and in return the daughter kisses her on her forehead. The act reminds him of his own mother, before she died.

“How much does this cost?” Drake interrupts.

“This? This is free.”

What?

Liam refuses. “Oh, that’s not possible, we have to give you something-”

Jasmine laughs. “I insist. First of all, this wasn’t even part of the menu, although we do need to add it to ours. Second, you deserve this. For the first time, other than my mother, I felt like someone else got me.”

The words make the prince look at her deeply into her eyes. Jasmine stares back, not one of them blinking. Finally, the law student breaks the contact.

Just then, Drake clears his throat. “I hate to interrupt but we have to leave. Is it alright if we take more of these?”

The mother smiles. “Sure, sweetie! Take as much as you need.”

As Maxwell and Drake grab more of the baklava, Liam goes up to Jasmine.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye,” he says, his tone with a hint of heartache.

She smiles wistfully. “Yeah.”

And they hesitate before hugging one another tightly. Liam closes his eyes, in what could be his last moments of freedom. He makes this time worth it. Jasmine reluctantly pulls back and clears her throat.

“But hey, something tells me we’ll see each other again soon,” she adds, with a hint of a smirk.

And just like that, Liam starts to have second thoughts.

Maybe New York City is not that awful.

Narrator: Jasmine was right in what she said. They will see each other again. And they marry, and they make babies-

Author’s note: First Liam x MC fic lol. I hope I did this some justice HAHA. Anyways, if you’ve made it this far, thank you! ♥️

Lmk if you want to be added or removed from the taglist! 🥰

Perma: @potionsprefect @gryffindordaughterofathena @maurine07 @missmiimiie @mom2000aggie @nezuzoned

Liam x MC: @kingliam2019 @jared2612

@choicesficwriterscreations

[maniculum]

This is related to something I've noticed as someone who studies medieval English texts. There are a number of semantic shifts that have happened in the last thousand years of English, which can result in Old/Middle English sentences coming off very strange to Modern English speakers who aren't aware of the older usage. There's a post I saw going around about it a while back -- I can't find the original, though, only screenshots like this one:

But all of these shifts happened within English, so if you look over at related languages like German, you see that they still have those usages that feel so weirdly archaic to us. (Actually I'm pretty sure "fowl" still refers to any bird, and "hound" remains a pretty flexible term, so I'm not sure what the OP is on about there... but the others sound weird.)

For instance, as noted, it used to be the case in English that meat just meant "food"; if you wanted to specify that you were eating an animal, you said flesh. "Sentences like "they ate flesh at the feast" sound weird and somewhat sinister to a modern English-speaking ear -- but in German, "meat" is still Fleisch.

There's also the case of deer -- previously a generic term for a wild animal, which results in a couple very funny Old English sentences. There's a text that confidently states "a tiger is a type of deer", and they're right because their meaning of deer does include tigers, but ours very much does not. I believe there's another one that describes someone being cast into the wilderness to be eaten by deer, but I don't remember that clearly enough to swear to it. To a Modern English speaker, truly bizarre; in German, "animal" is Tier. Same word.

"To starve is merely to die"? Well, in German, "to die" is still sterben. These features that seem weird and archaic to English speakers when we look back at Old English are still around in other Germanic languages. If a translator or non-native speaker relies too heavily on cognates, we could get tiger-deers again.

Also, personal anecdote. I know a professor from Germany, who's lived in the US for decades and is fully fluent in English, but who retains a strong accent and several "not a native speaker" quirks of diction. She often tells me about the wildlife in her backyard -- she likes watching the animals and generally enjoys their presence, but also is frequently worried about them doing stuff like digging burrows in inconvenient places, or nesting in the gutters, or getting into the garage. This is a common topic of conversation, but I have never heard her use the word animal. It's always creature.

Which is kind of the fault of American English -- if you pronounce it critter, then that doesn't strike the modern USAmerican ear as odd. Critter is a very close cognate of creature, basically just a variant pronunciation that's become its own word with a slightly different connotation. It's a quirk of our dialect that calling a chipmunk a critter sounds normal, but calling it a creature sounds archaic and kind of ominous. But the difference is so minor that it's practically not worth pointing out.

This is all to say: imagine a ~70-year-old German woman walking up to you and saying, in a soft, concerned voice, "I think there is a creature in my attic." That is an interaction I have had.

I keep being amused by how modern languages that are related to each other have elements that feel "archaic" compared to each other, just by having retained different features of their common ancestors. My psych clinic's coat rack had the sign "we are not responsible of any clothing/valuables left here" in both finnish and swedish, and I chuckled a little since the swedish "vi ansvar inte" is so similar word-for-word to saying "we answer not [for the thing]", like hehehhe medieval-ass phrasing language, before I recalled that hold on, the word for "to be responsible for" is the same damn word as "to answer/to reply" in finnish.

We answer not for your stolen coat or phone.

[borat123]

Analysis Pro NH anti NS

Naruto Manga Part 2

Part 1

So i have just read some really old and great posts about NH development in part 1 of the Naruto Manga. Also regarding why ns was never intended as the end pairing for Naruto and an in depth analysis regarding these topics. Unfortunetly the OP stopped posting so i decided to continue into part 2. Links to the other parts from that OP at the end of this post.

Sakura is slightly attracted to Naruto’s new appearence now that hes older and grew up a bit. Naruto is completely oblivious to this and Jiraiya comments on how he still doesn’t understand women. This also kind off explains a part of why he’s unaware of the meaning of Hinata’s constant blushing around him since he literally doesnt understand the concept of flirting or when a girl shows interest in him. This has to do with his neglected past as a child.

Wow would you look at that! Sakura actually thought Naruto was becoming amazing. No but we all know Sakura likes mature and serious guys, thats one of the reasons she likes Sasuke so much also his looks. But Naruto is Naruto, hes still a kid at this point in the manga. So thus Naruto hasnt changed like Sakura had hoped.

Aaaand all that gets ruined by this. Of course kishi’s just stating what he always has regarding ns. That its not serious and its just comedic relief. Altough punching someone who has just returned home after 2 and a half years isnt exactly what i would consider COMEDY.

Once again this shows that Sakura cant stand Naruto’s behaviour and personality. Also proves that Sakura would never ever ”love” Naruto romantically for who he is. He is just not her type, as simple as that. And do you honestly think Naruto is enjoying himself here? I dont know just the whole idea that Naruto would ”love” someone that treats him like this just feels so weird. Now of course he doesn’t and its just a shallow crush that never grew beyond that. Actually it was fading.

Naruto is impressed with Sakura’s new strength. But notice how he says he should stop playing around in front of her or she could murder him? Doesn’t sound very romantic. Also we know from part 1 that Naruto is desperate for attention. He plays around in front of her and acts dumb because atleast he is not being ignored. This is basically stated by Mizuki in chapter 1. He was desperate for acknowledgement, it didn’t matter who it was. Some of those behaviours lived on through shipudden.

Here Naruto assumes that Shikamaru and Temari is on a date for the shallow reason of them just walking next to each other. Again Naruto is just acting childish nothing new here. Hes also stoked to see Shikamaru of course. Notice how no character takes Naruto saying on a date ”too” seriously. No character that knew them from before takes NS seriously since they know there is nothing going on. Also all of this is just comedic relief anyway no reason to take this or Naruto seriously.

And that concludes part 1 of this. Let me know if you liked this and wanna see me continue through the whole of part 2. Regardless im probably gonna try to do it anyway. Im new to tumblr and became a Naruto fan just this October so i wasnt around when Naruto was still running. I was just shocked at NaruSaku’s claims as i didn’t see it like that at all and thought it was obvious that NH was gonna happen since episode 1.

Anyway here’s the links to the OP:s posts that this is based on, i recommend that you read them since their very informative and basically how Naruto was supposed to be read imo. Also now that we know whats canon it will all make even more sense. Here is the next part from me. Part 2

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9