#i really do think the majority of them are just a bad combo of ignorant and stubborn

[morgenlich]

i definitely do still look at and rb more political/etc posts than is good for me, sometimes because stuff slips through the filtered tag cracks (uncaptioned/untagged image posts particularly are the bane of my existence), sometimes because i click through the filtered tag anyway, etc doesn't really matter (tho i'll add i very rarely go into tumblr tags themselves through search etc, and never for political/current event reasons only fave characters and ships lol)

but i have really stepped back which has been good. and one thing that i am constantly reminding myself is that as fucking annoying as tumblr/other socmed tankies are, and they're not not a source of danger (and they're DEFINITELY a source of mass misinfo lmao), but as annoying and awful as they are, they are very much a minority of people

like whenever i remember what a small percentage of the population they are, it's like. instantly a cure for wanting to reblog or read through a post that's making fun of them or disproving their points or so on.

and it's not that doing that work is unimportant, but, like, truly they are such a small group of people that unless they come to harass me directly they're honestly barely worth noticing

[gaymer-hag-stan]

Fighting Games is a genre that I have always loved because they allow for unique player expression like no other genre. You get a wide selection of characters to choose from hailing from various different countries and practicing different styles of martial arts or even wielding melee weapons.

We've been lucky to have gotten tons of different games to choose from, and I have personally singled out the nine most vital franchises to the genre; the pillars of the fighting game community, if you will. Unfortunately, I only get ten options per poll, so games like Killer Instinct, Marvel vs. Capcom or Injustice have been left out. But that's why the tenth option has been left free of choice, as I'm sure that some of you will have the most obscure niche options in mind and will immediately comment "why is X not here" so there.

I'm also not deliberately ignoring Super Smash Bros., I just have traditional fighting games in mind and it's kinda not. But it's very much still a fighting game.

I'm also specifically talking about series of games and not one offs so that's why no Skullgirls and so on.

Anyway, at the end of the day vote for whatever you like, just don't bust my balls about "excluding" your fave 🤣

Really wish I could add:

A. More options

and

B. Images to the options to make them look prettier.

But overall I think polls have been a great addition. Good job @staff 👍😁👏

Here's a few general thoughts

I have a weird relationship with Mortal Kombat. My earliest memory of it must be some older kids next to my grandma's house playing MK4 and letting me watch them play for a while. Then I definitely remember the PS2 era games' covers and the video store, the dragon logo is so cool, but I never actually bothered to pick any of them. Until I got the 2011 game when I had a PS3. I liked it a lot, I kinda liked the story but I never understood the normies obsession with it? And here's a hot take; NRS stories are not that good, certainly not any better than any other fighting game like Tekken or SoulCalibur. The only key difference is that they have relatively good writing, while the rest of the major game, which are mostly Japanese, have cringey anime dialogue that absolutely does not fit the dramatic NRS storytelling everyone has been trying to copy post 2011. I wish they would straight up drop it and go back to having a decent, eight-level minimum arcade mode with character endings and stop trying to do what NRS does, because it's not that great to begin with. Anyway, I have since developed a love-hate relationship with it. I got both X and 11, and while both are objectively good games, with 11 FINALLY even making the characters look not ugly for the first time ever, but I think I've kind of moved on from MK. I don't have any attachment to the overall plot, I only mostly care about Mileena, Kitana and co., I mostly prefer 3D fighting games in general and I'm not that good at it so... Yeah. Still a fan series though, both the Reboot Trilogy as well as the, mostly underappreciated, PS2 trilogy.

I was born in 1997 and arcades weren't really a thing in Greece? I remember only having seen a Tekken 5 cabinet at a bowling alley in my entire life, so I never got to experience the "birth" of fighting games with Street Fighter, and Street Fighter itself was almost completely absent from the PS2, save for a few Alpha and SFII rereleases I think. So I finally got to play Street Fighter during the later years of it's fourth iteration when I got Ultra Street Fighter IV for the PS3. I was VERY frustrated at the beginning like, I was used to Tekken, DOA and SoulCalibur style gameplay, all of which are 3D but also combo-heavy games. Street Fighter was not that at all and I thought this made it a bad game. But I decided to give it a second chance with Street Fighter V. SFV is, perhaps notoriously, more simplified in both it's inputs as well as it's overall difficulty, so it helped me appreciate the series a lot more. Most of the characters no longer look ugly too (heavy emphasis on MOST) so that helped too. What's more, I can now actually play IV a lot better, and I even had money to spare to get Super Turbo II HD and Third Strike for the PS3, though I do struggle a bit with those too still, Third Strike in particular. Street Fighter X Tekken is also my guilty pleasure, don't @me. My only real issue is that I seem to be mostly interested in the "less regular" characters in the series like Elena or Poison or Laura which means that I have to find a new main in every single game and... I really don't care for most of the cast, especially the ones who seem to be featured on most of the games and never skip an entry.

I've been playing Tekken since I was 8 or 9 years old and got Tekken 5, the first fighting game I ever owned and I've been obsessed ever since. I love the gameplay because I feel like the four-limb system feels so natural, you know? If you press the X button you get a left kick, if you press the Δ button you get a right punch. It's so simple. Nina Williams is probably my favourite video game character ever, after Lara Croft, and I just really the series as a whole. It's also the only game I feel confident enough to play online atm.

For some reason I was always vaguely aware of The King of Fighters existence since around 2010-2011 but I never felt the desire to play it? Mai was added in Dead or Alive 5 however and I absolutely loved her. I played so much as her. But as far as picking up her own games... Well... KOFXIV looked like shit and I'd heard that XIII, and KOF in general, was very difficult so that was a bit off-putting. After falling out of love with MK however, I had to feel the gap. And along came KOFXV! I was still not completely sold, but I had money to spare and I got the game and I now love the series so much? Definitely my favourite 2D fighting game series. I wasted so many years gatekeeping myself out of playing the games but, honestly, while I sometimes buy things on impulse, the money I can spend on games is a very specific and limited amount so I always try to actually buy things that I will actually play and enjoy. XV is fun, but it turns out the "ugly" KOFXIV and the difficult XIII are even more fun! Shout-out to KOF for having an amazing cast of characters too. Even with Tekken which has been with me since childhood there are TONS of characters I straight up hate or just don't care about. KOF has over 90 characters and the ones I actually hate are probably fewer than Tekken's. This is certainly not a quantity over quality case (the yearly release for the first decade of the series was insane though, I don't know why they thought that was a good idea)

SoulCalibur is another series I loved since childhood but this one I didn't personally own until my late teens. A friend's uncle had a Dreamcast however, and when he would visit him in the summer he would bring it over and we would play SoulCalibur a lot! I have several reservations about Namco basing the series entire marketing on "who's the guest this time?" and later on the character creation. The sole focus should be on the characters themselves, because SoulCalibur has the most detailed and complex backstories in fighting games. Period. But because SoulCalibur has devolved into an overglorified character creator and the guests get the only media focus the game is gonna get during its promotional period, I feel like the brand itself has lost its mainstream appeal. SoulCalibur I is one of the best fighting games, and it has zero guests and no customization, other than being able to choose different weapons for each character. Have your guests by all means, I personally had tons of fun with Ezio and 2B, and Haohmaru even peaked my curiosity for Samurai Shodown, and customization can be fun too, but don't make it your main selling point. It has evidently not been working as well as Namco wants it to. Tekken and Mortal Kombat have guests and customization too, but they're not the games main selling point, they only help bring in additional fans.

Dead or Alive is the booby pervy game, sure, but it's also a great fighting game? The fast-paced gameplay is extremely fun and satisfying, most of the cast is actually pretty interesting, despite the sexy outfits and bikinis and beach volleyball, and whenever there's a new DOA in the market it it will always be the best-looking fighting game available at the time. There's no contest. I had tons of fun playing DOA2 as a kid and I had tons of fun playing DOA5 as an adult, because since DOA became Xbox-exclusive for a while, I never actually owned DOA3 or DOA4. I wish I could have had more fun with DOA6 too but the game is just... Soulless, and that's a shame. The fact that both DOA and SoulCalibur are unlikely to get sequels any time soon is also very heartbreaking.

I was way past my anime phase when I became aware of Guilty Gear's existence, so I was at first hesitant of checking it out. However, a chain of events led me to eventually get Rev 2. See, Haohmaru was a guest on SoulCalibur VI, and Baiken was a guest in Samurai Shodown and I guess you see where I'm going with is. This is why guests should absolutely not go away, but it is much better they remain actual (fighting) video game characters first and foremost and not stupid horror movie characters that haven't been relevant for decades (fuck every single MK12 guest, but especially RoboCop) Rev 2 is so much fun. It's still hard however, so I'm not yet ready to fully embrace Guilty Gear, but Strive looks more and more appealing each day is all I'm saying. Jack' O and I-No may have helped.

Virtua Fighter forever revolutionized the genre by moving things for the first time in the third dimension. I only had a VF4 demo as a kid and I was creeped out by having to fight Shun Di, a drunken old creepy guy, in a dark cave on a raft as Sarah so I never touched the series again until 5. The game is really fun and I will forever be grateful for it because it eventually lead to Tekken and DOA's creation, but while MK having a "good" story mode does not automatically make it a good game, Virtua Fighter having NO story mode, not even arcade endings, doesn't help it's case all that much either.

I've been contemplating trying out BlazBlue lately, Rachel, Taokaka and especially miss Litchi look really promising, but I'm trying to let the thought mature in my mind first rather than making an impulse purchase. I haven't played enough of any of its installments to have an opinion on it, but I know tons of people love it so it must have a few things going on for it, right?

Shout-out again to Samurai Shodown, I love the "fencing" aspect of its gameplay, but I'm just not as invested to it's cast as I am in KOF's yet. I've also always wanted to try out Darkstalkers but Capcom seems to be hellbent on wanting to make this franchise DIE. I don't understand why they don't at least start adding it's cast in Street Fighter as "permanent guests", in the same spirit as Final Fight characters keep on coming back. Morrigan is too good a character to be left to rot. I'd also love to try Killer Instinct, but it's another Xbox exclusive so RIP. Finally, I do own the first Injustice, but American comic book super heroes have always been morbidly boring to me (except Spiderman and Batman & co.) so, consequently, both Injustice and Marvel vs. Capcom are of no interest to me at all.

[mcrcki]

♥ closed ♥

closing this on 2/10/23 solely so i can be prepared for the event starting !! if we discuss writing any more starters , we totally can in dms , but for now any unplotted starter requests are closed !!

wednesday, bloody wednesday 💕 happy mini event, hidden!! super excited to get this one going with y’all, we know you will have a total blast!! i’m gonna throw together a quick combo plotting / starter call for the upcoming mini event here! just a heads up, i will be trying to focus on these plots / the pairings over my other threads. you’ll still get them, but i wanna get the mini event stuff moving at a decent pace once we start! i don’t plan on having any of my girls go unaware atm, but i am open to any and all injury plots (minor or major) and if you need someone to be unalived, hmu !! that said, y’all know my rules for the combo move here : LIKE for a plotting message on discord. RESPOND for starters. if you don’t specify who the starter is for, i’ll ignore you. and please do not request more than FOUR starters per writer, at the moment. wanna make sure i can write with everyone!! but without further ado, here’s what my babes are doing this valentine’s day

** crossed out means they are queued

                                                      𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂

chibiusa tsukino || sailor moon || unaffected - ( 1 / 4 )

she/her pronouns. lowkey expected something Insane™ to happen while she’s been here, so this was honestly not that big of a shock. will be in full sailor chibimoon form, doing whatever she can to help. if you need assistance, she’s the senshi for you!

-- plots : major / minor injuries, protecting someone, offering a place to hide, stopping someone from attacking.

usagi tsukino ( swan )

daniela dimitrescu || resident evil 8 || paired w. viscount tewkesbury - ( 3 / 4 )

she/they pronouns. decided to put themselves in the ring to get a free meal. had always intended to kill their date, but hey, this is just an added bonus, makes this that much more fun. will be going after anyone who looks like them, and anyone who stands in her way. 

-- plots : unaliving someone, injuring other people, conflict outside of the dates, pretending to be helpless to turn on someone, all around menace.

bela dimitrescu ( kasey )

yoon chi woo ( atlas )

cassandra dimitrescu ( jodie )

emma vanity || harry potter : marauders era || paired w. nancy wheeler - ( 2 / 4 )

she/her pronouns. was trying to get settled into the city and thought this would be an easy was to learn a little more about it, and if someone else was paying, who was she to say no to dinner? but now? this is way more fun. she thrives on this energy and will be having far too much fun with it. 

-- plots : unaliving someone, injuring other people, helping her friends/strangers with their attacks, offering shelter just to turn on them

rabastan lestrange ( alex )

alecto carrow ( cherry )

leia organa || star wars || paired w. han solo - ( 4 / 4 )

she/her pronouns. if she kills her husband twice, they cancel each other out right? like no one can hold her accountable for it if she just.. rights the wrong from the halloween gala? that’s how it should work at least, in her mind. will be full sith vibes again, i’m so sorry to anyone who gets in her way. she’s gonna try to control it, but really, i don’t think that’ll last for long.

-- plots : major / minor injuries , offering help to anyone who needs it (good or bad), someone trying to talk her down from this, injuring someone who does stand in her way

han solo ( mario )

yennefer of vengerberg ( alex )

jacen solo ( moon )

luke skywalker ( cherry )

marlene mckinnon || harry potter : marauders era || unaffected - ( 2 / 4 )

she/her pronouns. marlene is really having a full on ‘what the FUCK is happening!!!!!!!!!” moment. she really thought it was just fucking valentine’s day, already a bad holiday, and now she’s in full on order mode trying to stop people from committing a murder in the middle of the national mall. what was in the wine, my guys!!!

-- plots : major/minor injuries, offering people shelter, fighting against people trying to attack someone, penelope mitchell doppleganger attacks

emmeline vance ( mario )

sirius black ( jodie )

omega archeron || star wars : bad batch || paired w. renesmee cullen - ( 4 / 4 )

she/they pronouns. omega honestly?? kinda loves this. they don’t get to really cut loose all that much and not for nothing, this is a nice break from having to always be the good guy. they’ll definitely be going a little wild once they realized their date can’t be hurt that badly, but big rip to any other jessie mei li fcs :)

-- plots : injuring others, major / minor injuries, helping other people look for their dates, convincing people that this isn’t that bad

jill roberts ( swan )

yuri plisetsky ( ollie )

amber ( sunny )

billy loomis ( alex )

pj halliwell || charmed ‘98 || paired w. oliver mckinnon - ( 1 / 4 )

she/they pronouns. pj doesn’t have the active powers to actually kill someone, she’s definitely a maiming kind of person, but as much as she hates it, she kinda likes that they’re finally able to cut loose a little. they’ve always been The Good Kid, and getting to really let their powers shine now is really freeing. 

-- plots : injuring others, major / minor injuries, fighting people trying to stop them, someone to talk sense into her

oliver mckinnon ( sam )

rosemary winters || resident evil - shadows of rose || paired w. mob - ( 3 / 4 )

she/they pronouns. my moldy gal, they are finally getting a real hang on their powers and then this happens. lowkey paired with someone else who is op so like, it’s fine, it’ll probably be fine. gonna definitely be testing out the upper limits of their powers, so, so sorry to anyone who gets in the way

-- plots : injuring others, major / minor injuries, attacking people who are in the way, helping other people find their dates/injure them, maybe someone to talk them down (doubtful it’ll work)

chu wanning ( ollie )

mob ( sunny )

charles xavier ( alex )

rowena ravenclaw || harry potter - founders era || paired w. hunter - ( 2 / 4 )

she/her pronouns. rowena is a very good witch, not just morally but in skill as well. she will be struggling A Lot with this turn in her mind, and will be doing what she can to avoid hunter. will be turning to people to help keep her away, to keep him safe. she isn’t going to become something she hates. she has to fight it

-- plots : major/minor injuries, someone to lock her up, someone to try and talk sense into her, someone to corrupt her into just giving in

heron lyptus ( moon )

helena ravenclaw ( jodie )

sella palpatine || star wars || paired w. allana solo - ( 1 / 4 )

she/her pronouns. was looking forward to one!! normal!! date!!!!!!! for the love of literally everything could she have one normal date with her girlfriend, PLEASE. very much on the run, knows that allana could hurt her faster than sella could ever land a punch on them. big ‘this isn’t you’ vibes. someone please help her out, she is not going to win that fight.

-- plots : major/minor injuries, someone to offer shelter, someone to help her fight, josephine langford doppleganger attacks

samara palpatine ( moon )

sophie hatter || howl’s moving castle || unaffected - ( 2 / 4 )

she/they pronouns. they’re getting a much needed, much deserved Break. they are unaffected by this, having expected this day to be a giant rush for the shop she couldn’t take time off to go on any kind of date. real smart vibes in hindsight. will absolutely be offering help/shelter to those who may need it. if you seem dangerous, they’ll kick you out. they do not need that drama rn.

-- plots : minor / major injuries, offering shelter, offering help, trying to convince people to calm down, jessie mei li doppleganger attacks, someone to raid the shops?

lumine ( kasey )

juliet capulet ( atlas )

tatum riley || scream ‘96 || paired w. fred weasley - ( 3 / 4 )

she/her pronouns. girl is reaching final girl status no matter what it takes at this point, she is not going to be someone’s victim. v much willing to kick peoples asses to succeed in that. will be using her self defense training to beat up her date and then booking it to the nearest shelter. any tom holland fcs will also be getting some kind of punch thrown at them if they get in the way. 

-- plots : major / minor injuries, someone to offer shelter, abigail cowen doppleganger attacks, other tom holland fcs that she can beat up, someone to run with her, final girl tag team vibes

buffy summers ( swan )

stu macher ( moon )

josh washington ( blue )

victoria sutherland || twilight || unaffected - ( 4 / 4 )

she/her pronouns. best. valentine’s. day. ever. seriously, what more could she have asked for? the whole city is a total mess and she just gets to run around and grab a bite just to blame it on someone else? that’s so hot and please understand how annoying she and james are going to be about it. if you want someone to be unalived, she’s your gal. if you want a fight, she’s happy to oblige. this is victoria unaffected and just having a great time.

-- plots : unaliving someone, helping someone find their date, convincing people to just let go and have fun, being an all around terrible influence but at least she’s fun!

bree tanner ( swan )

riley biers ( mario )

mo ran ( kasey )

james witherdale ( kasey )

[furryprovocateur]

idc how pathetic this sounds getting, living legend done THAT well is the highlight of my week.

i'll start out with the ONLY negative i have about how this came out: i had to burn an extra turn to get the body ring because i accidentally fucked up the exploit for always getting treasure and i had to choose between an extra turn or the body ring. the latter was obviously the correct choice, mostly because sitting another turn also gave an excuse to get more experience with the experience generating machines known as ninian, serra, and priscilla.

yes, this chapter is where my staff hoarding comes to pay off in spades. physics just in and of themselves justify hoarding, but barrier staves? yes. torch staves? also yes. any time there's no one to heal, i have serra and priscilla using barrier to generate experience. i mean, it also helps that slapping heath with a barrier is genuinely extremely helpful for his offense (anyone who says heath is bad. use a pure water/barrier on him and it suddenly becomes very difficult for him to die.). but it's the experience i give the biggest fuck about. considering i'm not using erk or lucius but i have been using bartre, raven, and guy, i'm not worried about hitting kenneth's pfod instead of jerme's, so there's no reason to not get as much experience on those two girlies as much as possible. and ninian? casually it might be a hard sell to bring her, but for a ranked run, you are absolutely shooting yourself in the foot any chapter you do not bring her. i'd be shocked if there's any chapter that isn't the berserker where i don't bring her. hell, even during that one i might do it anyway.

so, with that in mind, my deployment was heath (linchpin of the offense this chapter + his low level but high bases means he's the best combo of leveling fast while still carrying), florina (pent limo, sure, but she's also doing a lot for me in being able to tank magic units and carry pent without dying instantly. i did try to use fiora as an excuse to level her up a bit more, but both of them are at the same level and florina is blowing her out of the water. i feel so much regret for ever saying bad things about florina.), priscilla (obvious), serra (obvious), ninian (obvious), lyn (remember how we need the lords' cumulative levels to be 50 or higher? i didn't.), and matthew (shockingly, i'm not using him for the desert items, but instead to steal the guiding ring + white gem, which i figuratively and literally cannot afford to ignore.). it's worth mentioning now to anyone who's played FE7 and doesn't know about the desert item exploit that thieves are no longer necessary for guaranteeing desert item pickups. i won't repeat what's stated in this thread, but if you want a short demonstration of how it works, boot up any (literally any) file of this game at living legend hnm/hhm and start the chapter immediately. press r on hector and view his stats, exit out, then move him two squares to the right. you will literally 100% of the time get the ocean seal there. it's that type of RNG manipulation.

everyone seems to hate this chapter, but even with the fog of war, i do think it's one of the most fun desert chapters, mostly because it's such a tidal wave of shit. like it's bad but it's so bad that it loops around to being good and i'm not joking. i really enjoy something about how unrelentingly shitty it is to deal with pent while trying to survive the onslaught of fog of war enemies. as i said before, heath is 100% required in how i play this level, because his axereaver + being slapped with a barrier means no enemy wants to deal with him. by the time his barrier wears off, you should either be able to comfortably reapply it, or you should have most of the big enemies dealt with such that the only remaining ones are scattered mages and shaman who don't pose a threat. seriously, heath not only killed the majority of units in this chapter (or at least, most of the ones that mattered), but he even killed both of the bosses. not just one, but both. again, his gargantuan base defense + axereaver means that neither jasmine nor paul are doing much to him (tbf jasmine is potentially doubling if your heath hasn't hit 11 speed yet, but his AS loss with the steel axe will make him very unlikely to hit and the hand axe isn't capable of 1RKOing at full health, so you're completely fine.). i cannot overstate how useful heath is, hhm bonuses really make him invaluable in this chapter, especially if you managed to get him some experience during kinship's bond.

it's funny that i called hector a "do not use under any circumstances" unit, because i used him a fairly large amount. sure, he's getting no experience, but i needed to weaken (and, in a few cases, kill) enemies and he was basically the only option. hell, i used lyn less than him. speaking of lyn, she got about a full level's worth of experience killing the knights and cavaliers in the northeast. it's a little risky considering she's still frail as all fuck, but i made it work. i was definitely debating using the angelic robe on her, but i want to see if i can hold onto that for as long as possible. i basically only need to use lyn and eliwood for one more chapter, and after that, i can permabench them at my own discretion (i hate saying this, but at the same time, using heaven seals hurts your funds soooo much and both of them are outclassed by other units at this point.).

i don't have anywhere to insert this, but i noticed that i forgot to log 42 experience with canas, so i'm just adding it to this chapter's experience count to make life easier. i assume it happened in his recruitment chapter, because i haven't fielded him otherwise iirc.

anyways, i'm really happy with how heath is coming along. he's at 16/13/12 in offense, 11 luck, and 14 defense. that's very very good by my standards, and he got a nearly perfect level up at one point (missing only resistance). god, i just love heath so much. he's such a great unit.

next up is genesis. it's not a matter of if i'm saving turns, but instead how many turns i'll be saving. i will not be leaving that chapter until i have 50 levels in the lord trio, but i'm debating if i need to bring both lyn and eliwood or just one of the two. right now, i'm leaning just bringing eliwood, but i'll have to think about it.

[drsycz]

30 DAYS OF AUTISM ACCEPTANCE 2023

I was busy and tired as hell for the last week, so I'm postin answers for questions 1-6 all in one post

1 April: The typical introduction question! Tell us something about yourself. If you can't think of anything, try these: What do you enjoy to do in your free time? What music or series/show do you like? Are you happy with your current living situation/the people you live with? What's one of your favourite foods?

My name is Jarvis, I'm 24 y.o. self-diagnosed autistic person. Also, I'm a trans guy. I'm Belarusian, but currently studying in Poland. I have degree in pharmacy, but my working experience was borderline traumatising, so I hope to switch into biology since animals are my major special interest. In terms of hobbies, I'm mostly into drawing, handmade, and fantasy/sci-fi media, especially Star Wars and Genshin Impact. I also play Ark Survival Evolved time to time, since it's a perfect combo of sci-fi, open world and dinosaurs, and it's all about building your own home and taming creatures. My music taste is mostly not very "hard" subgenres of metal, something like Sabaton or Metallite. Favourite food - probably something from Chinese cuisine, or something with mutton.

2 April: When were you diagnosed and when did you know that you're autistic? If you're self-diagnosed, when did you first suspect that you're autistic and when were you sure?

It's actually a funny story because… It all started with my mother calling my dog autistic as a joke. My doggo is rather shy and reserved, and kind of slow in his reactions, and also don't always understand how to play with other dogs or humans. And he's not even a big calm dog like a newfoundland, he's a pomeranian.

So I noticed that traits that my dog is called "autistic" for are kinda matching some traits I have myself. I've got curious and decided to google it, and ended up in a rabbit hole of self-diagnosis lasting for the las 7 years.

3 April: How good or bad is your memory for things people say? For example verbal instructions. If you're deaf: Can you lip read? Do you think your autism influences your ability to lip read?

Bad… Especially when they give a whole list of instructions right away. I usually get the first instruction, and my mind starts to focus on it too much, thinking about how I would actually do the task. But as the result, I completely miss the rest of instructions because they turn into background noise, and if I try to focus on them too, I completely forget the first one.

4 April: Were/are you in special education? Regular school? Home schooled? A private school? Did it change over time? Did/do you like it?

My mother has always been against me going to a psychologist, even though people around were noticing something and sugested it to her a couple of times. And even if I was sent to a doctor, I doubt that those old brats who stick to USSR medical books would have ever notice something in a girl who's just a little bit weird and was bullied in school for no particular reason. But I was a smart one, so starting with second grade I was studying in a gymnazium (in Belarus we call so more "elite" schools with extended programm, but it's still a state school)

5 April: Did/do you have accommodations at school/IEP? If not, do you think it would help/have helped you?

Sadly I didn't have accomodations, some teachers were even ignoring the fact that I was one of the most bullied students. Vice versa, they were often calling me out on my behavior, that turned out to be my atism. The only thing that was kinda saving me is that I had good grades and was a very sucsessful participant of biology competitions, so they let slide some things like drawing during classes (my form of stimming at that time). Of course it got worse at university, were I was contantly stressed and didn't have "the one who brings medals to the school" shield anymore. I really wish that my surrounding weren't at least so mean to me, not even speaking about specific accomodations.

6 April: Can you understand what people say when they talk fast, or do you lose track after a while? Was it different when you were younger? Additional question if your hearing is aided: If your hearing is aided, does that trigger sensory overloads sometimes?

Honestly, no. It turns into unidentifiable gibberish almost right away and I need to ask people to stop and repeat the whole thing. And I have always been like that, which honestly was often a source of annoyance to people around me.

[ariadne-does-her-best]

Love in G Major

Dick Grayson x Reader One-Shot; Soulmate!Au

Word Count: 2,500+

Warnings: Kidnapping but nothing graphic happens

Author’s Note: Hey guys! This is my first time posting a fic so characters may be a little OOC. Please let me know if you guys liked this and if you want to, feel free to send a request! Also, I might make a series of Soulmate! Aus since I have a good idea for Jasons thought out. xo, Ariadne

Summary: In a world where everyone has a soulmate, you’re one of the lucky ones to receive a physical sign of your soulmate in the form of a timer counting down to when you’ll meet. But after being kidnapped by the Riddler, hours before you’re supposed to meet them, you can only pray that the Riddler of all people isn’t your soulmate.

Five hours.

You swayed to the rich sound of your cello, eyes closed, as you shifted your hand down into fourth position. You rested for a beat before going down bow, still doing vibrato even after the piece was done. The audience waited for a sign that you were done with the piece, be it that your hand stopped moving or you physically stood up and told them to clap. Instead, you opened your eyes and smiled as the diners took their cue to start clapping before inclining your head in thanks as you waited for the applause to die down.

It was a normal Saturday at the small but expensive Italian restaurant you performed at. You weren’t supposed to be there since you had requested to take today off but the owner had still put you down to play during half of the two-hour live performance time slot. At the end of the day, money was money and who were you to ever say no to the thousands you always received in tips. After all, you could only think about the new bow you could buy with the money. Which would lead to you sounding better, getting more gigs, and making more money. The process was like a cycle, really.

After the applause stopped and those who were up putting money in your jar had sat down in their seats, you sat back down and started playing Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1, Prelude. You could hear the pianist who was supposed to take over for the rest of the night setting up, his hands flipping through his many copies of sheet music.

Aside from the sounds of cutlery and the wisps of conversation, there was not much noise other than the smooth sound of your cello. But even if there were no noises, something still bothered you.

At first, it wasn’t that bad. You could feel someone staring at you, which was normal since you were performing on a stage with your whole being on display, but it was longer and more intense than normal. Letting your eyes wander around the crowded restaurant, your eyes locked onto a pair of green eyes. You smiled slightly at the young girl before wincing as the slight burning of your wrist got worse. You continued playing, closing your eyes as you tried to ignore the burning of your timer. Your soulmate timer.

You were one of the lucky individuals who had a visible connection to their soulmate. Instead of feeling a spark whenever you touch your soulmate, like your neighbors do, or being able to finally see color when you touch your soulmate, like your parents, you were one of the few lucky ones who could count down to the precise moment when you would meet your soulmate. And that was exactly what you did. When you were thirteen and your parents had explained your soulmate mark to you, the first thing you did was calculate when you would meet your soulmate according to your timer and write it down in your diary.

It was impossible for you to ignore the burning on your wrist, impossible for you to not grin as you played. But your grin was wiped off when you heard glass shatter and a scream.

Four hours.

You had no idea where you were but judging by the smell of the place and the fact that two men wearing green suits with question marks were staring at you, you were not at the restaurant.

‘At least I still have my cello,’ you thought as you pulled against the ropes that tied you against a pillar. The henchmen were talking between themselves as they approached the pillar where you were tied. They started untying you from the pillar and you took this opportunity to suddenly stand up and run.

You heard one of the henchmen curse but you ran in random zigzag lines towards where the door was. It was weird that the henchmen didn’t shoot at you or even attempt to stop you. But you ignored the niggling in the back of your mind. Wrenching the door open, you looked back at where your cello lay and turned back around to walk towards your freedom.

Except it wasn’t your freedom, it was the Riddler in his forest green suit and bowler combo. A rather tacky-looking combo in your opinion but hey, you weren’t going to be the one to break the news to a murderous criminal. He looked up at your sudden entrance and smiled.

“Here she is,” he said, yanking you into the room where the guests of the restaurant were tied onto the seats of an auditorium. You shivered as the cold air hit you and you looked around the room, taking in the TV production set up and the large stage that covered up more than half of the room there.

The Riddler dragged you up onto the stage, and you couldn’t help but wince as the harsh lights burned your eyes.

“What am I doing on stage,” you asked the Riddler as you covered your eyes with your hands. The Riddler’s smile became somehow larger, looking rather comical for a second before becoming more uncomfortable to look at. “Riddle me this,” the Riddler started as he pushed you down onto a chair, “what is it that cannot open any locks and yet has 24 keys?”

Your eyes furrowed in confusion as you rubbed at your wrist, the burning sensation somehow getting worse.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled as a minute passed.

“Well, if you don’t know, why don’t we give you a little motivation to figure out the right answer?”

And with that, the Riddler drew out a gun and pointed it at the closest person seated at the stage, the pianist. At this point, you could hear the sobs wracking through his body and you thought about his elderly parents who depended on him to pay for their surgeries. You don’t know how you could live with his blood on your hands.

“Wait, I have the answer,” you cried out, reaching out to grab the Riddler’s elbow but stopping. Something told you that that wouldn’t be a good idea and he might take that opportunity to shoot you.

“Well, do go on.”

“It’s music,” you said, staring at the deranged man’s face. He broke into peals of laughter, clapping his hands, as he tried to settle himself. It was unnerving how he could flip the switch easily from being a man ready to kill another to laughing as if you were the funniest person on Earth.

“That’s correct. And with that, let us start the games.”

Three hours.

After asking you his initial riddle, the Riddler had quickly set up a broadcast to be shown to all of Gotham, using the footage that one of his henchmen had taken of him questioning you as the intro.

“Batman, I have two riddles for you,” he said, addressing the camera. If you weren’t stuck on stage with two guns pointed at you as you tuned a somewhat cheap cello, you would have sighed. Why couldn’t he also include picture puzzles or something else for once? But you were stuck on stage so you just carefully tuned the instrument, hoping that none of the guards took your movement as you tuned as a sign of your sad attempt at running away.

“There are as many constellations in the sky as there are keys in a piano. What number am I? There you will find the answer to, ‘What is it that makes songs but you will never hear it sing?’ You have an hour to find them before I start playing my little game.”

As if that's your cue, one of the gunmen poked your back and you tensed, surprised by how cold the metal was through your sweater. You quickly quit your tuning and started playing the op. 88, hoping that maybe Batman or Robin would recognize it. It would probably be difficult for them to recognize since they probably weren’t as necessarily as interested in music as you were. And if they were, it’d probably be a little difficult to hear and piece together the piece since you were playing more stiffly than your usual languid movements.

You just hoped that they could understand the Riddler’s riddle and show up to save the night.

Two hours.

An hour has passed of you sitting in your seat playing your cello. Your butt was stiff from the hard chair, your back hurt from your stiff posture, and your wrist was burning pretty badly. At the thought of your wrist, your mind recoiled slightly. What if your soulmate was one of the Riddler’s henchmen? Or the Riddler himself? The thought of it made you want to puke.

“Well Gotham,” the Riddler said, standing in front of the mic as he paused to look dramatically at the camera. “Batman still hasn’t arrived yet so I will be starting my game. And today we have a very special guest that will be playing with me.”

At this, the goons started applauding and you heard a child in the audience cry even louder.

“Our special guest is the one and only (Y/N) (L/N) who has been playing such lovely music for us during our broadcast.”

You sat in your chair, music forgotten as another stage light shone on you.

“Now come on (Y/N), don’t be shy. I know that I’m somewhat of a local celebrity but I don’t bite.”

You shivered under the Riddler’s gaze and got up, trying your best not to stumble as you walked towards him. Your breathing was labored now and the closer you got to the Riddler, the more you felt like you were going to faint.

“(Y/N) here is going to play a simple game. She’s going to play a song that shows up in the cards,” he held up a large stack of index cards and fanned them out on the podium. The crying from the audience became even louder, with ‘Please, no’s mixed in. You turned to watch the small girl from the restaurant being dragged onto the stage, the bright lights highlighting the tears running down her face.

“And if (Y/N) here cannot play the song or if she plays even a single note or rhythm incorrectly, little Bella here will be dunked into this vat of water. For each mistake, she will be kept there for thirty seconds longer.”

You watched in horror as the girl was dragged towards what looked like a giant hole in the ground filled with water. She struggled against her restraints as she cried, her bleary eyes focused on something over your shoulder. You looked over in the corner of your eye and saw the familiar red and yellow of Robin.

As you turned around to shake the Riddler’s hand in acceptance of the rules, you curled your hand in a fist.

“Let the game begin,” he shouted, smiling at the camera before he went to choose a card.

“I’m sorry but we’re going to have to change the rules,” you said before pulling back your fist and punching him in the jaw.

One hour.

You were hiding in the corner of the stage, hidden by the curtains as you tried to untie Bella. The poor girl was trying to hold her sobs in but some still escaped, sounding misplaced in the sounds of Batman and Robin beating the Riddler & co. into oblivion.

You shushed her and tried to twist the rope and push it through the knot when a birdarang flew through the gap of the curtains and sliced your cheek along with the stray strands of hair nearby before hitting the wood paneling behind you. You ignored the blood that was slowly dripping down your face before grabbing the birdarang. You probably grabbed it wrong since it cut the palm of your hand, making you curse under your breath as you started sawing through the multiple knots in the ropes around Bella’s hands and feet.

Once she was free, the little girl tried to get up and run but you grabbed her, putting a finger up to your mouth and cupping a hand behind your ear, whispering “listen.”

You both sat there, listening to the sounds of Robin giggling as he punched someone. You furrowed your brow at that, wondering who exactly was the boy crazy enough to dress up as a traffic signal and fight crime with an equally weird man dressed as a bat.

You slowly started standing up once the sounds of Robin’s laughter had receded before holding a hand out to Bella. The young girl grabbed your hand and you both started edging your way off of the stage area where the fighting was taking place and towards her parents. Batman and Robin were tying people up when you finally found Bella’s father, the sound of the GCPD’s sirens in the background becoming louder and louder as they came closer.

As you and the other hostages made your way out, making sure to jump across the dock to the other side so you don’t fall into the disgusting water down below, you felt someone grab your wrist. You turned and smiled at Bella’s father.

“Why don’t you go and seek some medical assistance?”

“I will sir,” you replied before making your way to the paramedics, letting them fuss over your cuts. You could see Batman speaking to Commissioner Gordon but you couldn’t see Robin near them.

“I think you have something of mine,” Robin said with a grin as he held his hand towards you. You were surprised to see him in front of you but you smiled at him confused.

“I don’t know what you’re…,” you trailed off when you looked down to where he was pointing to see that you were still holding his birdarang.

“Oh. Well, I don’t know… maybe I should keep it. Something to remind me of this day,” you teased as you held up the birdarang so it was eye-level.

“Alright, you can keep it. Just don’t tell Batsie,” he said with a wink, causing you to giggle. “I’m sorry for cutting you.”

“It’s fine,” you said, wincing as the burning on your wrist became worse. Robin also gave out a hiss of pain at the same time as you, causing you to both stare at each other. You reached your hand out towards him slowly, letting your hands ghost over his cheekbones slightly when you felt the telltale cooling sensation of your wrist.

“Let’s go talk somewhere else,” he said, and you nodded, following behind him to an empty alleyway.

“Let me introduce myself again,” he started taking off his mask, “I’m Dick Grayson.”

You were met with the most beautiful pair of lilac-blue eyes, causing you to catch your breath in the back of your throat.

“And I’m (Y/N).”

“Why don’t we get out of here and get to know each other better, princess?”

“I would like that, love bird.”

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Book Drop Boy (Twice x Reader)

✧ pairing: library student worker!Twice x afab!student!Reader

✧ word count: 9.9k

✧ ao3 mirror

✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, maladaptive daydreaming (twice), twice is chaotic af, commits library related crimes, use of the term sweetheart a few times, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, doggy style, afab terms, no pronouns for reader, gratuitous swearing this is potentially the softest thing I've ever written, like she's pretty tame idk what Twice does to me

✧ summary: In which Twice learns that sometimes dreams do come true, except those dreams are just the maladaptive fantasies of a broke library receptionist and, while sexy, also involve more fraud than he expected.

✧ a/n: Hey y'all, this is set in the same universe as my shiggy college piece, but you don't need to have read that. There are some fun little easter eggs though if you have tho. This is like the most tame thing I've ever written and it's way longer than it was meant to be but oh well. Anyway, Twice deserves some love. Enjoy <3

Logically, Jin was aware you probably had no idea who the fuck he was.

But that really didn’t have any effect on the wildly intricate fantasy life he had created for the two of you during his long shifts behind the library reception desk. That, in fact, was the only reason he hadn’t up and quit just to save himself the embarrassment of another loud outburst in the middle of the most silent place on campus.

What was truly more shocking was the fact that none of those said outburst had gotten his ass kicked straight out the door.

But he held out.

If only for you.

Late nights or lazy afternoons you were always in the campus library—studying he assumed or…

'Studying,' because a lot of the time he noticed you’d show up with a drink from the cafe a few blocks down, set out a line of colored pens and not touch a single one of them for hours, content to stare blankly at the chipped desktop. And even that Jin was more than happy to watch.

He did a lot of watching.

Mostly because he wasn’t permitted to leave the desk unattended unless there were piling up returned books which needed to be replaced quickly.

So instead, he pretended to be busy scrolling through something on his old as hell monitor—which was conveniently set up directly across from the comfy chair/desk combo you always managed to grab—and he indulged in day dreams where you’d bring him a coffee from the cafe when you came in and set it on his desk, maybe kiss him on the cheek, maybe loiter by his workstation and play with his hair and—

Yeah.

It was a lot.

But you were always in that chair, always working or pretending to work and you never seemed to notice the uninterrupted hours of staring Jin did, so what was the harm?

If you never knew, you’d never get creeped out—cause it was creepy, he knew that, oh fuckin' boy did he know it was real goddamn weird.

He just couldn’t seem to give it up. Especially when the conditions presented perfectly for some good uninterrupted, totally not stalker-y at all, fantasizing.

Sometimes he thought you might have some mundane superpower that let you always snatch that perfect seat right across from his computer, and made it so the library was just cool enough that he’d get to watch you shrug on that cute extra sweatshirt you always brought. So he could catch a glimpse of some skin—in a totally normal and not invasive way—when your arms went over your head. So he could imagine it was his ratty old sweaters you were wearing just so you could smell him on you and god he really wanted to get close enough to smell you—was that too weird? No. Yes? No.

Not at all.

But the best part, the part that really convinced him on those awful days when he really just could not be bothered to drag himself out of bed and walk the couple blocks to campus just to sit in awful silence alone, in his head alone with the fucking thoughts that made him want to rip his hair out—

What made it worth it was those times every few weeks when your classes would get new assigned readings. Because then you’d have to check out new textbooks, since you were one of those geniuses that had figured out the library kept a ton of those books in stock. Of course you were, cause you were fucking perfect.

And when you had to check out new books, you had to come to reception.

Jin got to watch as your lovely figure moved through the stacks like you were ballroom dancing along the halls of faded, sea-green shelves, almost floating over the linoleum trying to find just the right volume in the right addition before anyone else beat you to it.

It was one of the most gorgeous things he’d ever seen.

Spinner would call him a fucking simp if he ever dared to uttered any of that out loud, but it didn’t matter.

If it was you, he’d simp for fucking life.

And then, you’d walk that fucking glorious ass over to his desk and plop the books down, smiling—cause you were polite like that, so fucking perfect he couldn’t hardly believe it sometimes—and asking how his day was while he checked you out in every sense of the phrase.

In a completely platonic and not freaky way.

So Jin kept coming to work, to that god awful job he really hated and which hated him just as vehemently. He clocked in every day and waited patiently like a fucking puppy counting the hours till its workaholic owner arrived home, ears perking up when you walked through the door and flashed your ID to the attendant.

If only for that.

He’d put up with his boss’ complaints and the weird stares he got when the thoughts just wouldn’t stay in his head anymore and he had to start talking to himself to fill the silence.

If only for that.

Those few hours when he could lose himself in the fake inner life where you were waiting for him when his shift let out, waiting to gather him, tired and understimulated, into your arms. Where you’d sneak into the back room with him just to chat and lace your fingers with his and maybe sit that fucking wonderful ass up on the tables so he could stand in between your thighs and you’d pull him down to—

Yeah.

That was enough.

***

It wasn’t until Tuesday when he had to come in again that week, and he already knew it was gonna suck balls.

Friday he’d gotten another round of complaints from some stuck up fucking business students—it was always the fucking business majors with those silver spoons so far up their asses—snitching to his boss that he’s been ‘disruptive’ and ‘disturbing’ during his last shift.

“Not my fucking fault,” he muttered under his breath, kicking a rock along the side walk he’d picked up two blocks before. “Yes it is. No it’s not!”

Jin groaned and tugged at his hair, wishing he’d brought a Tylenol or something to curb the headache that was already sticking it’s ugly ass claws into his temples. He really, really heavily contemplated just ditching, calling in sick or some shit. Technically he was a student worker, so they had to work with his DRS accommodation and he was actually having a bad fucking time.

But one of his friends had already texted to ask if he’d try and reserve them that sweet ass study room on the third floor and Jin wasn’t really looking to disappoint anyone else this week. Besides, it was fun to abuse his minuscule power. Fun to go corrupt for once. Fight the system and all that.

He liked to think you’d be proud of him for it, based on the kinds of texts you checked out at least.

So, he dragged his sad ass back to the looming library looking far too much like a prison than was necessary and clocked in. Actually, the first thing he did was check the chair—your chair and nobody else’s chair, he might actually make a fucking scene if somebody ever did steal it—and his face visibly fell when you were not occupying it.

It was a bit early, Jin supposed as he paused briefly when he noticed the can of Monster and rando vending machine chips sitting next to it by the reception computer. The sticky note slapped to the top read 'For your troubles' in familiar handwriting and that pulled a bit of a smile from him as he quickly rearranged the scheduling of study room sign ups so the fancy third floor room would be free for the rest of the night.

Then Jin sat, staring at the study room schedules for a moment, feeling his eyes softly glaze over until a hand slapped down on the raised lip of the reception desk.

“Hey bro,” Spinner greeted him with a wild smile and a flurry of bright pink hair.

Jin had to blink a few extra times to get his vision to clear. When it did he saw, horrifyingly, that he’d been staring at the fucking blank screen for two hours without moving.

Why was it that his head was either deadly quiet, devoid of even a single errant thought or so loud as fucking shit at all times that he couldn’t physically keep the thoughts in?

“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Jin asked, running a hand through his unruly hair.

“Aren’t you supposed to like shush me or something?”

Spinner chuckled a bit at his own god awful joke and Jin couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed, too glad for the company.

“I mean,” he shrugged, popping the can of Monster and ignoring the dirty looks he got for the sound. “I would if I was, uh, good at my job.”

“Which I’ve heard you definitely are not,” Spinner wrapped his fingers over the lip of the desk and leaned back on his heels, swaying side to side idly.

“You’re just figuring that out now?”

Jin didn’t bother watching while Spinner nearly tripped over himself fidgeting as he spun to stand at the little gate that corralled Jin inside like livestock. He was too busy glancing over to check you hadn’t slipped in while his brain had taken a trip to the astral plane without him.

“No, I been knew, but my sources tell me you’ve gone off the rails my friend,” long legs stepped over the wooden partition until the only friend he had who was quite possibly more annoying than Jin himself was sat on the counter next to his computer. “Finally been radicalized have you?”

Jin huffed and sipped his Monster, “Guess it fuckin’ took me long enough.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Spinner was messing about with the stacks of multicolored sticky notes littered across the desk before glancing up to wink at Jin. “So what can I get you to do for me in exchange for free food?”

“Now I really am gonna fucking shush you,” Jin smashed his finger against Spinners grin only to get a hand covered in spit for his trouble.

“Right, right,” Spinner held his hands up in defeat, “can’t have you cheating on your sweetheart.”

“Not my—yes I’m in a committed fictional relationship thank you very much—ugh!”

Jin could feel the heads shooting up from laptop screens and textbooks to stick daggers in his back with their angry stares. Spinner at least had the good sense to look a little fucking guilty for egging him on.

“Sorry bro, I had to shoot my shot ya know?” a hand disappeared into the mop of bubblegum locks in apology.

“It’s fine…” Jin trailed off, mumbling and blushing more than a little profusely as he turned to check the book drop box. “Not like I’m ever gonna fuckin’ shoot mine anyway.”

“Oh we are not gonna have that kinda of shit discussion,” Spinner’s hand shot out and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, spinning Jin in his chair. “On god bro, we’re gonna get you a date one of these days.”

Jin didn’t dignify that kind of lie with a response.

Spinner once again, had the good sense to not push the envelope any farther.

“And in the meantime, you can come to the League meeting tonight!”

“Your gaming club thing?”

“Yeah, it’s Smash night and we need to fill a space sooooo…”

Jin knew Spinner and his roommate—the same friend who he’d gone study room rogue for—had started a gaming club their freshman year. Spinner had been trying to strong arm him into attending ever since. To, as he put it, ‘socialize,’ and ‘make new friends.’ All things which Jin was patently horrible at and avoided like the plague.

Needless to say, he’d refused every time.

It wasn’t just the whole being alone with like two people he kinda knew in a room full of strangers. Games themselves were just a lot for him. The flashing colors and the loud noises made his head—which was already so fucking full all the time and he really needed to keep any extra scrap of space for extra random facts he picked up about you and your future married life together—get a bit misaligned.

They just weren’t his jam most of the time.

“I’m good, thanks for the offer though,” Jin twisted out of Spinner’s grasp and craned his head to check your seat again.

Still empty.

He sighed.

Spinner continued to ramble and Jin continued to only half listen. It wasn’t as pleasant to day dream when you weren’t there for the added visual aesthetic. And he was trying to not be a dick and ignore the one friend he had managed to keep around over the years. But it was hard when his mind had a mind of its own.

Wow.

Meta.

“Jin?”

The voice—deep and dark in such a dramatically ominous way it might have been funny if it didn’t belong to his permanently disgruntled supervisor—interrupted his already derailing train of thought.

“Oh, uh, hello sir,” Jin stuttered, turning to find Kurogiri leaning against the reception desk with one arm, turning only slightly to accommodate Spinner’s form bolting over the gate and out the library doors.

He did manage to throw a fading, “See ya later, bro” over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner.

Yeah thanks for the warning, bro.

“Aren’t you supposed to be reshelving the books from the drop box?” Kurogiri sighed, perpetually disappointed in a way that had Jin’s face burning and shame bubbling up in his throat.

He hated this job. He was objectively terrible at it, and so usually he wouldn’t give that much of a shit at not doing it well. Kurogiri just had some type of vibe—like daddy but not in the sexy way Spinner always joked about—that made it really, really upsetting to let him down.

Father figure? Yeah that's what it was called.

“Right, yeah um, sorry,” Jin nodded quickly and leapt from his chair, only mildly bruising his knee on the desk as he reached to empty the book drop.

Another incorporeal sigh was the only acknowledgement he received as he loaded the cart with wheels louder than Jin on a particularly bad day and rolled the pile of books back to the stacks. He paused once more, just before the sea green shelving units swallowed him up, to sneak another futile peak at your chair. But it still sat empty—empty and lonely with no you and cold without your body pressed against the worn upholstery.

Jin felt a chill too, a slow tingling thing that worked its way up from the base of his spine. It drove him deeper into the walls of books, away from the empty spaces.

It was harder to look.

Harder to be reminded of what he did not have.

Of what he’d never have cause he was too much of a goddamn pussy to ever just fucking talk to you—

But then what if he did? What if he did talk to you? What would happen then?

Those were the types of questions he tried to avoid when crafting your intricate, fictional lives together. Precisely because they were the easiest to answer.

You’d realize within the first five minutes or so of conversation—if Jin could even make it that far without embarrassing himself—that he was just a generic brand weirdo that all your pretty, normal, aesthetically pleasing friends would warn you to stay away from and because you were also pretty and normal and not a fucking idiot, you’d have the common sense to listen.

He’d lose you in the blink of an eye.

Your chair would sit cold and empty forever and the imaginary garden he’d been planting for you to come imaginarily home too would wilt and die like all the other happy thoughts in his head.

It was quite the conundrum and one Jin was not keen to solve soon.

Not that things ever really went his way. Cause problems could only be avoided for so long before all that time spent ignoring them came back to bite him full on the ass.

Which, apparently, came this time in the form of what had to be quiet, muffled sobbing drifting in between the shelves from the back hallway.

It was dark here in this section of the building—free of most windows so as not to cause any sunning damage to the books—and Jin had seen more than enough horror movies to know that it was a horrendous idea to follow the ominous crying sounds coming from the bowls of this old as fuck building. But even as he made up his mind to ignore it, the hand currently working one of the returns back into its proper place dropped the book to his cart as his feet slowly turned to face the corridor.

He looked around skeptically for a second, not entirely certain his poor brain hadn’t simply malfunctioned again, as it was wont to do, and fabricated the sound entirely. But as he peaked out from between the stacks, and down the dimly lit hall, he heard it again.

Echoey and soft in the wide, empty space it—was definitely coming from the hall and it was definitely a person.

Jin caught himself moving without ever meaning too, the books laying forgotten as he crept towards the source of the noise and paused just before leaving the stacks entirely. This hall was full of small alcoves built into the centuries old walls and led to the lesser used storage portions of the library that only the janitorial staff and the university librarians ever entered. He really didn’t want to stumble across someone from the special collections department bawling over a damaged or lost manuscript.

But his wayward feet pushed him forward, too sympathetic for his own good. He found himself shuffling down the abandoned hall, peering into each small dip in the walls to find the source of his distraction.

And when he did, Jin was—for once in his life—thankful for his lack of self-preservation instincts.

And cursed his blatant lack in interpersonal skills.

Because it was you.

You curled with your knees to your chest and your head in your hands, shoulders shaking, as you cried into your palms.

The universe had handed him maybe the only golden opportunity he would ever get on right on a platter.

But Jin didn’t have a fucking clue what do with it.

And there certainly wasn’t much time to formulate a game plan as his nervous breathing and sudden intake of breath upon discovering his imaginary lover sniffling right in front of him, had certainly alerted you to his presence.

Your head shot up in an instant, knocking dully against the stone wall with a thud.

“Shit,” you cursed and hands flying up to cover the area as Jin jumped on the spot at your outburst.

“Are you okay?” he asked lamely as you glanced over at him, eyes red and wet and so fucking sad oh fucking god, widening as you realized you’d been caught.

“Huh? Ye—oh uh, yes,” your words came out jumbled, legs unfolding quickly to push yourself off the bench and hands wiping furiously at your eyes. “I’m fine, sorry.”

“You sure about that?”

Jin cringed visibly and frowned at the way you deflated under his stare. God the first fucking time he actually talks to you and he already made an ass of himself.

Spinner’s roommate was such a liar, it really fucking sucked to be right sometimes.

“I mean,” you crumpled back down onto the ledge and Jin took a careful step closer, “no, but yes. Like I’m definitely having a breakdown in the back of the fucking library but I don’t wanna, uh, bother you with that. So, yeah I’m good.”

“You can bother me,” he replied way too fucking quickly.

But he couldn’t really be embarrassed about it. Your voice was just so captivating, and you weren’t talking to him in that raised pitch anymore like you usually did—the way everyone does when they’re trying to be surface level and polite. No this was your voice how you sounded when you were relaxing with your friends or making breakfast in the morning or talking to yourself in the shower (he liked to think you did that, or sang maybe as you worked the soap into your skin, one of the two but he always imagined you filled silences with how fucking pretty you were).

“No, really. That would be weird, right?”

Jin grimaced as you fixed him with a watery yet suspicious stare.

Yeah it was weird.

Everything he did concerning you was weird, objectively. He was definitely being over-familiar and too eager, especially considering you didn’t fucking know him.

But he knew you.

Jin felt like he’d known you for all months he’d spent pretending to be by your side.

And you were crying and he had to do something.

“I mean, yeah I guess,” he mumbled, taking a risk and plopped down on the opposite end of the alcove and resting his head on the wall. “But not any weirder than having a breakdown in the employees only section of the library building on a Tuesday.”

You kept staring blankly for a few moments before the most miraculous thing happened.

Jin had to physically stop his jaw from hitting the floor when the quiet giggle bubbled up from your chest and spilled out into the hall, warm enough to melt even the freezing linoleum floor.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” your voice cracked a bit as a few more tears slid like pearls down your cheeks.

“My name’s Jin,” he said, shocked stupid both by your laugh and the apparent success of his comforting methods.

“Oh, hi, well I guess I don’t have to call you book drop boy anymore,” you rubbed at your face again and tucked your legs back into your chest, though it looked a bit more relaxed this time.

Not so trying-desperately-to-fade-out-of-existence.

“You called me that?” Jin asked, brain still functioning at half capacity, only shocked at the fact that he existed as a concept in your head enough to have a name and realizing a bit too late how accusatory he must have sounded. “Shit, I mean it’s totally fine I just didn’t think you, uh, well I mean, like, knew about me I guess?”

You finally smiled and his brain power cut out another fourth at being personally graced by the expression this close up.

“Yeah, you always check me out—fuck sorry not that you check me out, just you scan my books and I just called you ‘book drop boy’ in my head cause I never got a chance to ask for your name but I have it now so that’s cool….”

Your head dropped back down to your knees as you groaned and Jin suddenly felt a lot less nervous than he had a few seconds ago.

You were weird too.

For so long you’d existed on this pedestal thousands of feet in the air, and now you were stepping down from the heavens and onto earth. Not in a bad way! Just, Jin had never really stopped to think that you might be a person too.

Well.

No, he knew you were a person, just he never thought you might get flustered and ramble and be nervous in front of him.

Cause he was a fucking train wreck—the bar was so goddamn low.

It was almost as comforting as your smile.

“Oh, yeah sorry I’m not the best at customer service if you couldn’t tell,” he sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair.

You looked back up with a wry grin, “I don’t know, I’d say you’re going above and beyond right now.”

And you were funny.

He was gonna fucking combust.

“Ha, yeah, I try,” he trailed off for a moment before glancing back at your curled in your corner, fuck he could just imagine sitting behind you, your head on his chest while you—”So uh, did you wanna talk about it or…?”

“Uh, yeah,” you picked idly at the grouting of the stone and mumbled, “I guess it’s not so weird if we’re on a first-name basis.

And that was how Jin discovered that you’d been hiding in the back of the library bawling your eyes out for hours—since even before his shift started. Apparently you’d gotten here extra early, even skipped a class, to snag some super specific required text for your final thesis and right before you got to the shelf some jackass swooped in, effectively hit and running with the only copy of that book on campus.

The book in questions was one of the newer additions that had special added footnotes you needed for your paper and was a whopping 500 fucking dollars to rent from every other place online. You couldn’t afford it, and honestly what fucking student could? But you needed it to complete the paper or you’d fail and Jin very much understood the need for a good breakdown after a catastrophe like that.

“Damn, that’s uh, fucking awful,” he frowned on your behalf as your head hit the wall a second time in frustration.

“Yeah so, I’m like royally fucked either way. Now I just gotta decide which hole I’m taking it in I guess,” you groaned.

Jin’s eyebrows raised at your choice of words but they were apt, he supposed. People really do get comfortable with each other pretty quick when bonding over shared institutional rage.

“Well,” he began, wringing his hands nervously at what he was about to suggest. “You might be in luck cause I’ve recently decided to abuse my library powers for good and I maybe, possibly, could try and see if there’s some strings I can pull?”

You perked up a bit, looking at him incredulously.

Jin felt comfortably full under your stare.

“Seriously?”

The word was soft and it bounced off the walls just as much as it did the inside of his skull.

Swapping study rooms to help a friend out was one thing. But falsifying checkout dates for someone he barely knew—had essentially married in his maladaptive fantasies—could get him fired.

He hated this job but he needed it.

Were you worth the risk?

Of course, he found himself thinking without hesitation.

You were everything.

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, any lingering uncertainty washing away at the way you looked at him through your lashes. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

“Are you always this nice?”

Jin didn’t answer right away. He was too caught up in how you’d leaned forward on your hands across the bench, peering like he was some exotic animal or a stray cat in the parking lot—all soft wonderment with fingers curling like they ached to grab hold and rescue him from this parchment scented monotony.

“Not always…”

“Should I feel special then?”

If his face wasn’t red before, it was now. Red and blistering under the summer campfire heat that radiated off you—woodsy and warm and so painfully familiar like an old friend’s hand.

“...I guess you—fucking definitely, ” he quite nearly shouted the last bit, startled by his own volume and already mortified at the outburst but then you chuckled again from beside him.

He turned to see you standing and offering a hand which he gladly too if only to feel the weight of your palm against his.

“Well, you’ll have to let me pay you back then.”

“Oh, no you don’t actually—”

You held a hand up and the words turned to ash on his tongue in an instant, mouth glued shut by your gesture.

“Coffee on me or something, there’s a nice cafe a few blocks from here,” you dropped your hand and your eyes were clear now, no sign of the previous afternoon sobbing alone in the hallway. Jin felt a surge in his chest knowing he was the one who did that. “You gotta pass off the contraband anyway, and I don’t think it would be that great of an idea to do it here.”

God you were fucking perfect.

“Can’t argue with that.”

***

Jin was sweating profusely as he snuck past the library attendant, totally inconspicuous and not not all looking like he was doing a single thing wrong in the slightest.

Yeah they definitely didn’t suspect a thing.

The process of fraud was actually a lot less complicated of an undertaking that Jin had expected. All he had to do was search up the book, find the student that had stolen the success of his sweetheart’s educational career and flag his account. They’d get an automated message about the flag, instructing them to return any borrowed items or they’d be forced to pay fines while the account was examined.

Technically he needed administrator credentials to report student accounts, but luckily Kurogiri had his login info written on a sticky note hidden on the back of the monitor. All in all it was a pretty easy job.

The whole thing had taken only a matter of days, in which time you had returned to the library only twice—the first to get confirmation on the success of Jin’s newest descent into low level crime which had set his heart thundering in his chest as you bent conspiratorially over his desk, your face just inches from his.

The second time, Jin had horrifically been absent from his desk, however he was met with possibly the most wonderful sight of his life upon returning from the labyrinth of shelves.

On one of the hundreds of post-it note pads that littered the library reception area, there were scribbles that he was sure hadn’t been there before. He almost tossed it, but upon closer inspection, you’d written your number there and signed just below it. In the cutest fucking handwriting he’d ever seen—cute not for any stylistic reason, but it simply felt that way just by virtue of it being yours—was written the digits and “-for book drop boy”

The noise he made reading that turned more than a dozen heads and almost got him fired there on the spot before any of his indiscretions were even discovered, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

So, nerve wrackingly, Jin texted you as he nearly sprinted home from his shift after that piece of shit asshole who made you cry had trudged angrily in and dropped off his ‘stolen’ book.

— HEY IT’S JIN!

— from the library

— shit sorry that wasn’t meant to be in caps

— n e way….

— I’ve intercepted the ~package~ so whenever you’re ready for the hand off, I’m good

Most perfect fucking human being to…

Oh my god thank you so much!!!—

Is tomorrow at like 5ish good for you?—

Also send me your order—

so we don’t have to do that awkward waiting in line for drinks bit—

Holy fuck you multi-texted too! Spinner would roll over in his fucking grave, he hated when Jin did that. But there was always so much to say and he could never think of it all at the same time. Plus, you wanted to save him from that god awful silence where you both stand in line next but he can’t talk cause he has keep repeating his order in his head over and over or he’ll blank when he gets to the register so it’s just this painful weird glancing back and forth—

Ugh, maybe all the shit about manifestation that girl who always loaned him exacto knives in his sculpting class always talked about was real.

Cause there was no way you weren’t just heaven-sent, handcrafted especially for him and all his general brand of weird.

The hours which usually flew by without Jin’s notice dragged all that night. He was so full of excess energy that made his hand shake and his thoughts race, not sure what to do with themselves now that they didn’t need to fantasize about you.

He decided to use all that extra motivation to vacuum the kitchen at 4:30 in the morning, much to his roommates' chagrin. She liked to get a nice solid eight hours every night and constantly reminded Jin of this, trying to sell him on that sleepy time tea before bed, though he really hated the smell of camomile.

Magne may lose out on some of her beauty sleep—not that she needed it and Jin would tell her that constantly, even if he did have some patently horrible judgment most of the time so he wasn’t really the best at offering reassurance—but the kitchen would be clean when she woke up so win-win really.

When she did wake up—wandering out of her room looking effortlessly put together in a way Jin could never hope to emulate—she sat at the table, sipping her tea and appraising him worriedly.

Jin was still in his jeans from the day before, hair spiking in every direction but down, and chewing his nails nervously despite losing most of them to the hour or two of early morning floor scrubbing.

“Babe,” she shook her head slowly, “take a breath.”

“Yeah okay,” he sighed and inhaled deeply, letting himself slide off the couch cushions and to the newly sparkling floors on the exhale.

“There, now wanna share what the hell is going on?”

He glanced up at her from the hardwood and groaned as she looked back down, brows furrowed over her glasses.

“Huhh, okay. So that absolute work of art from the library is meeting me for coffee later cause I have trade over this book I sort of stole, it’s a long story, and I don’t know if it’s a date—it sounds like a date, cause that’s where people go for dates and shit—but it might just be to pay me back for stealing the book. And if it is I’ve only ever been on that one date before which was with fucking Spinner like two years ago so—”

Magne held up a hand to quiet Jin before the speed of his words tied his tongue in physical knots. She looked contemplative, taking another soft sip of tea and nodding her head for a moment getting up to crouch on the floor by his head.

“You think too much for your own good, but never about the right things,” she mumbled, smoothing some of the hair from his face. “Does it really matter if this is a date or not?”

Jin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she chuckled in that way people do when kids ask them obvious questions—kindly, appreciative of the curiosity, “either way you cut it, you’ll be spending time with this person you like, yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed and sat up to face her as she stood.

“A date is just hanging out with a special name anyway,” Magne’s hands were firm but gentle as she hoisted Jin off the floor and onto his feet. “You’ll be fine.”

His shoulders slumped both in mild relief and dejection that he’d waisted so much precious time he could have been preparing possible topics of conversation or strategies to ask you out for real date on worrying over how this first time would go.

How did Magne always fucking know all this stuff?

Other people were such a mystery to him.

To be fair, though, Jin was a mystery to himself most of the time as well.

“Thanks, sorry for not saying anything about it earlier,” he sniffed as she smiled and pinched his cheek way fucking harder than necessary.

“It’s alright, I’m only a little insulted you waited until now to tell me about this massive crush you’ve developed.”

“Yeah it’s got its own gravitational pull at this point.”

Magne laughed at that and Jin felt the room lighten.

“I do expect details when you get back though,” she said pointedly, finishing her tea wandering back to her room to grab her bag. “Spinner asked me, very begrudgingly might I add, to fill in at another of his club tournament things tonight so I’ll be out late.”

“Really? I didn’t think you liked that stuff.”

Jin shuffled over to her doorway and peaked into the neat little space. Magne was rummaging through the meticulously organized closet and frowning as she answered.

“I do, Spinner just doesn’t agree with my battle strategies,” she huffed. “My alignment is far too ‘chaotic’ and ‘recklessly violent’ for his tastes apparently.”

“Oh, yeah that makes sense,” Jin laughed this time just envisioning the two of them stuck on a team. “Well have fun with that.”

“Yeah well,” she brushed by him into the hall, keys jangling as she went and calling over her shoulder. “Text me how it goes, and wear that new button up you got last week, it looks good on you!”

***

Much to Jin’s surprise and delight, Magne was right.

He was fine.

He was fine.

Fine was a bit subjective—as he was most certainly still highkey panicking on main as he got out of his last class and walked the short few blocks to the cafe on campus—but regardless he was perfectly okay.

Of course that all went right out the fucking window in the split second between him walking in and you already staring at the door as he entered. Your eyes widened just a bit and this smile broke out slowly across your cheeks when you waved him over and it was like suddenly every single creepy as hell day dream had just become reality.

It was a little overwhelming to say the least.

His heart may have actually stopped in his chest for a bit and he did contemplate the possibility that Kurogiri might have actually discovered his little plot, murdered him in cold blood and stuffed his body in the records room. This might all just be the afterlife, but that would mean that Jin had gone to some kind of heaven which didn’t really add up with his current tract record.

But it was fine.

Because you were really fucking easy to talk to.

Like, really fucking easy.

It was sorta strange actually, how you seemed to know all this shit he was into before he even really mentioned it.

After you traded off the goods, you both sat in the big comfy couches upstairs in the loft and you listened to him info dump, inevitably getting lost down innumerable unrelated tangents. You managed to keep up well enough though and not question the winding conversation.

“Damn,” he said, sipping at the last dregs left behind in his cup. “How do you know about all this stuff?”

“Uh,” you paused then, looking maybe just a bit sheepishly into your own drink. “I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time eavesdropping into your conversations while you’re on shift.”

He saw flashes at that moment—dial up sounds going off between his ears.

Jin.exe has stopped working.

“...What?”

You grimaced and hid your face in your hands for a moment, “I know it sounds really creepy, my friends just sorta made a, um, game out of it? They tease me a lot about going to study at the library just cause of the cute guy that works there, so we all kinda stalk you a little bit just—wow this is sounding exponentially worse and worse every second.”

He gaped a bit despite himself as you cringed visibly and Jin tried to discreetly pinch his thigh to make sure this really wasn’t some sort of cruel, cruel fever dream.

“You think I’m cute…?”

He blinked once and your eyes shot up to meet his, a pained, half smile caught between your teeth. “I mean, yeah. I kinda thought I was being a bit obvious, sorry.”

“What no, holy fuck,” he spluttered, face on fire and legs bouncing restlessly against the couch across from you. “Don’t apologize, I have a, uh, staring habit too I guess.”

“I know,” you rubbed at the back of your neck and Jin didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore endearing. “I’ve noticed, that’s like the whole reason I insisted on buying you a drink.”

“So wait is this a date?”

Jin wished almost immediately that he hadn’t asked, because Magne was right, it super didn’t matter but fucking shit on a stick he really wanted it to be a date!!!!

“Yeah,” you nodded. “If you’d like that.”

“Yes!—ah, I mean, uh yeah mhm,” Jin choked on his spit with enthusiasm, but it did earn him a concerned shoulder pat so he’d take the win.

It also afforded him the opportunity to walk you home after hours chatting until the streets were lit by burnt orange lamps and the cafe was closing. You didn’t live all that far from him actually and when you stopped to point out your door, the two of you were overcome by that telltale, charged silence.

Filled with potential.

Like a gas stove waiting for a spark to go up in flames.

It was you that struck the match.

“So, um, I promise I don’t just, uh, do this with everyone but, do you wanna maybe come inside,” you let your hand trail down his arm and slip into his palm, “I don’t feel like you’ve been properly compensated for saving my ass.”

Jin’s mouth was watering at the thought. He nodded slowly, eyes like saucers as you pulled him up your steps and through the door which shut promptly behind him.

Your place was nice in the sense that it fit you. He wasn’t really paying all that much attention to his surroundings as you locked the door and squeezed his hand in yours, leading him towards the end of the entrance hall.

When he stepped through to your bedroom, you toed off your shoes and he did the same, staring nervously and waiting for you to show him what exactly you meant by ‘further compensation.’

It was exactly what he’d hoped.

You approached him, still in the doorway, and stepped close so your chests brushed together. It was soft, the way you looked at him, sort of fuzzy around the edges while your hands trailed down his arms to place his palms at your waist.

It wasn’t like Jin hadn’t done this before—he totally had and definitely remembered all of it and wasn’t shit faced at all nope—but it hadn’t really mattered before. He knew in theory that he should take the lead, be a gentleman and make the first move and holy fucking god he was dying over there with the desire to finally live out his months and months of fantasies

But what if he did it wrong?

What if he ruined it now when he was so close to the finish line?

He’d never fucking forgive himself for it, and he could goddamn hear Magne in his head.

“You think too much for your own good.”

And he did, and he was right now, cause the room was only dimly lit by the street light streaming in through the window and you were reaching out to loop your arms behind his neck.

Should he lean down now?

Tilt left or right?

What if he clacked your teeth together?

What if—

Your lips were soft and hot against his, rubbing at the stubble on his chin before pressing close in that precious, puzzle-piece way human bodies fit together. He didn’t do much thinking after that.

His hands were too busy digging into the flesh of your hips separated by way to many fucking layers of fabric, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from indulging just a bit. Jin sucked gently at your lower lip, knees going weak at the glorious fucking sound you made in the back of your throat as he licked over the taught skin and tugged it between his teeth.

He could feel you smiling into his mouth, sharing breath and raking your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. Jin groaned and you—fucking cheeky little bastard—slipped your tongue right past his lips and licked at the back of his fucking teeth like a popsicle in July.

Your hands in his hair hard tugged and his breath was coming faster, lips gliding against yours as the room turned to steam around him.

Through the haze he clung to the few remaining seconds of clarity.

Jin pulled away for one painful second to mumble against your lips.“You meant have sex, right?”

“Yeah,” your voice was barely more than a whisper, but you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against his.

“Ohh fuck, ‘kay good, thank god.”

For once Jin had nothing more to add.

And you weren't exactly willing to give him back his tongue long enough for any interruptions anyway.

***

“Holy fucking shit, look at you,” Jin gasped into your ear.

Both of your clothes had been discarded long ago, and he had your bare back to his chest while he sat propped against the headboard with your legs hooked on either side of his knees. It didn’t afford him the best view, but he got your head resting on his shoulder and pretty moans spilling right into his ear.

He didn’t need to see your pussy anyway.

The slick pouring out of your pretty fucking hole and coating his fingers as he pumped two of them into you was more than enough. His other hand wandered in the lovely expanse of space between your chest and your waist, running softly over the skin and pausing to pinch and roll your nipples just to hear you whine.

His cock was so fucking hard, trapped between your ass and his stomach, twitching every time you thrust your hips to meet the movement of his wrist.

“Jin, fuck please-”

You used his name every time you begged him for more and it was really going to his head.

“You’re so goddamn perfect, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he groaned and sunk his fingers deeper into your soaking cunt while his mouth dropped to your neck and sucked hard to mark you lovely skin.

He licked at the indents of his teeth, tasting your sweat on his tongue that tangled with yours again as your hand reached for his cheek and pulled him in. It was less of a kiss and more of a sloppy forming of your mouths that left you connected by a silvery string of spit that flashed in the low light. Jin sighed at the sight, rutting his hips against the cleft of your ass.

Your thighs twitched where they were spread and your hips lifted off the mattress to meet the languid thrusts of his fingers that curled up on every push in to hear the hitch in your breath.

He took pity on you and brought his other hand down to rub circles on your clit, listening for the telltale whimpers and the way your nails dug into his arm to find the perfect rhythm.

“I don’t really—mm, there fuck—feel like I’m paying you back right now,” you mumbled nipping your own trail of stepping stone bruises onto his throat as he picked up the pace and held steady on that sweet bundle of nerves.

“Are you fucking serious?”

He didn’t really mean to full on growl at you then, but just the thought that you’d really believe he wasn’t about to fucking drown in ecstasy just from watching you get off—just from touching, speaking, being in anyway acknowledged by you at all. Jin nudged your head to the side and bit down harshly into the crook of your neck, shuddering as you moaned and arched against his chest.

In any other scenario, he could never really find the right balance between too many words and not enough. The sheer volume of thoughts and interjections that raced like cars reaching the end of rush hour traffic made the formulation of any coherent conversation impossible, but now—

Now with your body so pliant in his hands, so willing and sweet and wanting him.

Wanting him.

What a concept.

He needed you to understand, to know how fucking over the moon, sunshine bright you had him burning.

And for once, he finally had the words to do it.

After all, he’d had months to prepare.

It was surprisingly easy to change your positions, to pull away from you for just a moment so he could roll and cage you on your hands and knees under him, ass in the air nestled against his cock.

“You really don’t think I’m getting anything out of this?” he groaned into you ear, rocking his length against you both for emphasis and because it felt so fucking good.

“Ah, well ya know,” your voice was so wrecked he was desperate to find out how much it would take for you to lose it entirely. “When you put it like that—mmh—I just feel bad you’re doing all the work. ”

You had this cheeky fucking grin on your face when you rocked forward so back so his cock slipped down to your dripping lips. The heat of your cunt was mesmerizing and it took a fuck ton of self control Jin was unaware he possessed to not ram straight into you right then.

“Yeah cause I’ve wanted to for fucking months goddamn it’s driving me insane.”

“What?”

Now that he’d started, Jin couldn’t find it in himself to stop. His hands dug hard into your hips, rocking so the tip of his dick caught your clit and you shivered below him, hot skin sliding with the motion of your bodies.

“It’s all I think about whenever I see you,” he was shaking when his hand reached down to grip himself, spreading your folds and soaking his length in your slick. “When you come in to work I just fucking lose myself thinking about how bad I want you to be mine, my pretty fucking thing to bring me coffee while I work and let me fuck you in the backroom.”

You whimpered under him, face pressed into the mattress as he draped himself over you, chest to back with his breath ghosting over your ear.

“Literal hours I just sit there at that awful fucking job and I only keep coming cause of you, cause I can watch you sit all cute in your chair and watch the way your cheeks squish up when you put your face in your hands and imagine they’re my hands and I’m about to spit in your fucking mouth so you remember who you belong too.”

“I—” you were nearly choking on the drool that soaked through your sheets as Jin lined himself up with your pretty little hole, pressing just the tip into your heat. “I didn’t think you ever—nggh, shit—noticed much about me.”

The corners of his eyes burned as sweat dripped down his forehead, he had to hold back a sob as he sheathed another inch into those perfect walls.

“Notice you? You’re all I fucking think about,” he pressed his lips softly against your shoulder, hands running from your chest to your sides as you took his cock and every word that slipped from his lips without complaint. “I could take such good care of you. I just fucking know it, just please, let me take care of you?”

“Fuck Jin,” your voice was closer to a sob than anything else but he needs you screaming. “You don’t really have to convince me—”

His patience had run out long ago, not even willing to let you finish before he’d sunk in to the hilt, spearing you on his cock with one final thrust. You ass was flush with his hips and his balls hung heavy and tight against the back of your thighs. The strangled little cry that worked its way out of your throat had gooseflesh erupting across his arms where he held you to him.

Jin couldn’t really be sure—it wasn’t like his brain was all that functional on a day to day basis and it most certainly was not now—but your walls clenching around him and that addictive warm, wet feeling milking his cock was on a whole other level than any fuck he’d ever had before.

There was something about the curve of your back against his chest, and the way you seemed to suck him in, drawing his length back in just seconds after he’d pulled out. Some about the feeling of your chest in his hands, of the sweat on your skin that he licked off in a long strip up your spine. Like you really were made for him. As though all those months spent in dream land, concocting your pretend lives together had spilled over into reality, molding you into the perfect shape to take him deep and hard and cry while you came on his cock just like he knew you were meant to.

“Oh, fuck yeah, gonna make you feel so good, I promise,” he mumbled, forehead pressed to the nape of your neck as his hips drew back and he sunk into you over and over again.

He needed you to moan louder, needed your neighbors on the other side of every wall to hear what he did to you, how he fucked you dumb on his cock and made you drunk with the pleasure of it—slutty and perfect and better than any fantasy he could ever concoct.

The room was filled completely with the wet slap of your bodies—his balls tightening up just at the squelch of you taking him—leaving only enough space for your cries and his grunting, no room left for any bitter doubt to creep in and ruin the sweetness in the air.

He could feel the surge growing in his stomach, the tensing in his thighs as his hips stuttered, but he needed you to cum first. Wanted to tip over the edge to the feeling of you spasming around him, so he let a hand slip from your hip to your folds. Jin only paused for a moment to run a finger around your stretched hole, feeling himself plunging into you, before drifting back up to your swollen clit and working the sensitive bud.

The mattress creaked and rocked along as Jin increased his pace, shifting his hips until his tip knocked against something that had your hands fisting in the sheets and your tongue lolling out in between cries of his name.

You didn’t give him much a warning, not that he minded really. Just a muffled shout with your head smashed into the pillows and the tightening of your walls surrounding him before he felt your whole body wracked with tremors so hard he had to wrap both arms around your middle and hold you while he rammed into you.

Jin wasn’t really keeping track of the filth that was pouring from his lips as he brought himself closer to release. A lot of encouragement, that you were taking him so well, cumming so pretty for him, mixed with a lot of thanks—for letting him have this, have you, for not casting him aside like everyone else always inevitably did.

He did have the clarity to drag one arm up and link your fingers together, pressing hard into the bed while blood pounded in his ears and his hips stuttered in their relentless rhythm. When Jin did finally cum, it was a strangely silent affair, all the words and sound that usually roared inside him dying on his lips as his cock spilled milky release deep inside you and your walls fluttered at the fullness.

And then it was as though every muscle in his body changed physical states.

Boneless, he collapsed onto you with a little huff. You didn’t even complain, just squeezed his hand tighter in yours and hummed at the weight of him.

“Well I think that was a, um,” you panted while he nuzzled his face deeper into your neck, “pretty equivalent exchange yeah?”

“I don’t know,” Jin kissed and nipped at the sweet skin of your shoulder, “I think you might have over paid a bit.”

You laughed, the joyous movement of your chest jostled him from your back and had his soft cock slipping from you in a gush of combined release. “I doubt that very much, I didn’t know I’d be getting to take your fucking load as part of the deal.”

“Shit,” he felt his heart seize in his chest, raising up on his elbows to look down as you turned to him. “I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

Your hand came up to stroke his cheek, clammy but welcome. He sat up enough so you could lay on your back and pull him back down to your chest amidst the sweat and cum slicked sheets.

“Don’t worry about it, I would have asked you to anyway,” you kissed the baby frizz at his hairline and if Jin hadn’t already melted into a puddle, then he certainly was now. “If I’d been able to talk at all.”

“Ha, yeah….”

A short silence descended in your dark bedroom. The noise of cars and the occasional shout filtered in through the window, but there was no other sound than your evening breaths. Jin tried not to ruin the peace while he had it.

It was such a rare commodity.

But he couldn’t say he mourned the quiet when you finally spoke.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you asked in that soft way he always envisioned you would.

Soft so he’d know it was just a courtesy.

That you didn’t want him to leave.

“Uh, yeah, yes I would,” he stumbled over the words a bit, trying not to sound too eager but wanting you to know he would work a thousands shifts at the reception desk if it meant you held him for just a second longer.

“Good,” you sighed.

He felt you scoot down the bed and flopped onto his back so you could settle your head on his chest and drape an arm across his stomach. After another few minutes he felt you go limp at his side, soft and relaxed as you slipped away into dreams.

But though his muscles ached and his eyes felt heavy, Jin resisted the call to sleep.

He didn’t need to now.

You were here, in the flesh, and he could study you intently while his eyes were open.

No need for his brain to conjure up scattered images of you.

Because he had you now, tucked safely under his arm for him to keep and hold and fuck and love the way he wanted.

So there was no more need for sleep.

And no need for dreams.

[hehebread]

[BKDK] Izuku keeps mentioning a Kacchan to reporters and they think that's his gf

this was a request on twt that i had way too much fun writing. warning for suggestive language!

--

“And is there…. a special person….or a group of people you would like to thank on air today? Anyone who inspired you? Anyone you would attribute your success to? An image of victory per say?”

Izuku’s eyes glimmer as the bright lights of the studio reflect on his irises. “Oh!” He jumps in his seat, his perfectly- coiffed curls bouncing as he nods frantically to the show’s host. “Yes! Yes!” Leaning forward with his hands on his leg, the camera zooms in on his face where the blush is painting his cheeks. “I wouldn’t be the hero I am today if it wasn’t for Kacchan!”

And it’s as if an earthquake alert dropped on the talk show. The host grows this devious grin on his face as he turns to the camera team and says, “Well, well, well, behind every great man is a woman after all.”

Izuku isn’t quite sure why the host is bringing his mother into this since the interview is reaching its end and he has already discussed her influence in detail very early on, but he doesn’t get a chance to ponder.

The host, Yamaguchi-san, leans into Izuku’s space with renowned interest and an interesting glint in his eyes. Izuku feels himself sweating in his oversized maroon-striped suit.

“So, Midoriya-san, Hero Deku, Rising Symbol of Equity and Hope, can you tell us more about … Kacchan?” His voice goes higher at the last syllable, almost sing songs, and Izuku is not sure if he should be worried or not, but he won’t pass an opportunity to gush about Kacchan!

“Ah, Kacchan is very … confident, hardworking, strong, and smart. Kacchan is a hero who knows how to lead a team and perform under pressure, an inspiration to both myself and our entire graduating class, and a”—Izuku can feel the heat rise in his face as he tries to hide in his colour— “a shining star who was closer to me than All Might!”

The host makes a loud ‘AWWW’ noise at the same time as the small audience in the studio. “My, my! Sounds like Kacchan is very important to Hero Deku! Don’t be shy! Tell us more! Is there a physical description to go with your precious person?”

“Ahm!” Izuku fiddles with his fingers as he avoids the gazes on him. There a long beat of silence before he manages to say, “Muscles….Blonde…..Sharp eyes….” With a vague gesture to his middle section, he mumbles, barely audible, “Big, ugh…..” Heart.

“OOOOOOOOOH!” The host goes wild and so does the audience. “So are we talking Hiromi Oshima type big or maybe Rio Natsume, or aaaah Aki Hoshino even ….?”

Izuku feels his ears ring in humiliation as he tries to process what they’re talking about. Something Kacchan has in common with all these beautiful women is his big successful career so Izuku nods. “Yes!” Then, a thought occurs and he rises in his chair. “Even bigger!”

After all, Kacchan’s net worth is higher than these ladies.

“BIGGER?”

“The biggest!”

“Oh my god!” The host is losing his mind now! “And is it … natural? Or did Kacchan get a little help from professionals?”

“No, no, no! Kacchan was a natural ever since we were in school together!” Izuku’s eyes shine with a fire to defend his childhood best friend, no longer trying to hide in his big suit. “No one helped Kacchan get this big!”

“That’s … amazing!” The host shakes his head in both awe and disbelief. “Now we want to see Kacchan in action! When the hero works around the city, defeating villains, does the size get in the way?”

Does Kacchan’s fame get in the way of his work? “Sometimes,” Izuku muses, “But Kacchan never lets the restless and perky nuisances stop him, y’know. With a little shake from his hands, and a few colourful words of wisdoms, nothing gets in the way!” Izuku laughs as he remembers Kacchan’s way of dismissing fans and reporters alike.

“Wow!”

“Of course, there are times where Kacchan’s big firm moulds become springy and hard to control, but I have yet to see an instance where that has been a major issue. ”

Kacchan is still having some adjustment problems with his new hero costume, particularly his grenade mould, but that’s as far as distractions go.

“Does Kacchan not use support?”

“Uhm, only when it’s a dire situation! Sometimes I’m even allowed to provide assistance!”

“You must be very lucky…”

“I am! It feels … exciting and … very special! Kacchan doesn’t trust just anyone, y’know! I can never quite get used to the trust we built together. We are one unit working together.”

“Do you use your hands…. Or something else?”

“Oh, hands! Yes! But anything works really! Whatever Kacchan is comfortable with and needs at the time. Black Whip, combo moves, an iron grip...”

The host furrow his brows and seems to be considering Izuku’s answer before he opens his mouth again. “Uhm, never mind.” He then turns to the camera, smile back on. “Our time is almost running out! Thank you, hero Deku for your time! We look forward to seeing you again in the big screen!”

--

The next day, Izuku wakes up to the headline: Hero Deku And His Mysterious Busty New Girlfriend: The Beautiful and Spunky Kacchan!

He’s doomed

--

He sees Kacchan early the next day.

Having spent the morning talking to tabloids and the host show agents about the misunderstanding and whether or not it was possible to take down the episode at least, Izuku slumps his head on his desk in defeat.

Oh, this is very bad.

He starts thumping his forehead on the wood in sync with the bleeps noises in the phone, already planning his funeral in his head.

Okay, so it seems the suspense around this girlfriend is raking up his popularity, but god, at what cost.

“Nerd, we need to talk.”

Izuku’s soul near flies to the roof at the sound of the door to his office slamming close. Fuckfuckfuck.

Kacchan stands before him with his hand on his hip, teeth snarled and looking ready to tear his flesh open. Oh, this is going to be fun!

After flashing a haughty glare at the glass door to scare away the nosy friends hanging about, Kacchan continues, “About the interview.”

Of course! Yes! His final hour is approaching. “Haahahaha, what about it?” Izuku feels his undershirt cling to his torso, sweat collecting on his face. He directs a shaky hand to a nearby chair. “Feel free to take a seat, Kacchan! You want me to get you anything? Water, tissues, uhm, a knife, a body sized bag, or uhhh, a shovel? I think I have some spare sheets of paper if you’d like to give me a chance to—“

“So…” Kacchan starts.

“PLEASE TELL MY MUM I LOVE HER!”

“…this Kacchan, huh?” Having completely ignored every single word Izuku just said, Kacchan crosses his arms and scowls. “Is she strong? How come I never heard about her before? Since when did you start dating this gravure idol and pro hero, huh?”

“Wha—?”

“So, you just go around giving everyone pretty nicknames now?” Kacchan snorts and his expression darkens before he slams his hands on Izuku’s desk. He looks at Izuku from under his chin, and Izuku swear he can see flames behind his eyes. He growls, “What’s her actual name?”

An alarm bell rings in Izuku’s ears and he stutters, “Ka— Ka— Kat— Katsuko! Bakugan Katsuko…….”

Kacchan’s expression doesn’t change and Izuku feels his heart leap to his throat. God, Kacchan is gonna call his bluff at any minute now. He’s going to reject him then he’s going to break his heart and his bones.

“What’s she like?”

Kacchan shifts forward slightly and Izuku is just know noticing the ample cleavage in clear view. Right there. In front of Izuku’s face. “Uhm. Ah, she’s very, ugh, im- pec— impeccable!! And strong! Muscl— mature!! Breasty too – I mean, pretty! PRETTY!” Izuku bites his tongue then swallows thickly. “Beautiful, actually!” Lifting his gaze to meet Kacchan, he whispers, “Gorgeous. Just the most amazing person in my life.”

Kacchan is staring intently with his sharp red eyes, and Izuku feels his chest swell with confidence he never had before. “Kacchan is my inspiration, and I just … love … Kacchan so much. I wish I had the courage to tell him— um, her that.”

“Are you two serious?” Kacchan asks, impassive but there is silent rage hiding behind his words.

Something flashes quickly through Kacchan’s eyes before he narrows them. It takes Izuku a second to recognise that it’s /hurt/ and then he realise what he has just done.

“No, no, no!” Izuku backtracks immediately. “I don’t even know her that well! In fact, she kinda smells and definitely has sweating problem.” Izuku needs to do damage control and come clean NOW. “You know what? I will call her and break up with her right now. Ha ha ha.”

What the hell is he saying? Who is he going to call?

Kacchan stands up while Izuku fumbles with his phone. “Don’t be a dick,” he says, before he heads to the door.

Izuku jumps from his chair and is ready to chase after him when Kacchan stops him. “How big?”

“Huh?”

“You said Bakugan was big.”

Ah, yes, he did. Tragically.

“Um, y’know just…” Izuku motions with his hands like he’s moulding two doughballs, palms up and fingers wiggling because he’s lost control of his life once he accepted his funeral date, but that’s not even happening anymore so what is he doing really.

He then makes am hourglass shape in the air and belatedly realises that he’s just outlining Kacchan’s shape in front of him. Izuku retreats his hands and puts them behind his back in shame.

Kacchan is looking at him funny. Like he’s trying to figure something out.

“Does she shoot aerial bomb or something? Is that a combat-style quirk?”

Izuku blinks.

Kacchan just sneers and turns around.

“Whatever. I’m doing a photoshoot this afternoon. The Sekushī clothing line is dropping a new summer set and they asked me to model.”

“Se- Sekushi?? You mean, like—” Izuku feels his face go impossibly red. “You’re saying that, you’re going to wear, like…..” his voice goes down to a whisper when he says “…..a b-b-b-b-b-bikini?”

“Swimwear,” Kacchan turns to say over his shoulder, “Among other things.”

The sexy smirk he sends Izuku’s way is doing very, very weird things to Izuku’s body and imagination, things too inappropriate to describe in a work setting.

Kacchan leaves but not without offering the most dangerous challenge to Izuku’s mental wellbeing. “Feel free to drop in.”

Oh, he absolutely will.

“Bring Bakugon.”

Oh, he absolutely will not.

Actually….

Maybe, he will.

Kacchan is going to ruin Izuku

[butwhatifidothis]

I also think that part of the reason why the church gets so much hate is because of how much general distrust there is in organized religion in real life. Like I went into Three Houses trying to keep an open mind and during White Clouds I really couldn't see what was so heinously wrong with the church even during the Lonato thing that made the institution so much worse than what Edelgard was inciting. I could be totally wrong but I was under the impression that Rhea didn't squash the insurrection because they were a part of the Western Church but because they were actively rebelling and, on top of that, Lonato was bringing civilians into the conflict. That, along with the fact that Rhea knows for an absolute fact that the goddess existed and that she herself is old as dirt (trauma included) makes her decisions make a lot of sense.

I'm playing through AM with my friend who's never played before and they IMMEDIATELY said they distrusted the church because Jeralt doesn't like Rhea (for understandable reasons but my friend also ignored his very sus behavior of not explaining literally anything to Byleth) and because organized religions must be inherently bad.

It’s something that’s heavily related to a player’s inability to separate the reality of their specific circumstances with those of the fiction they’re consuming. They implant their experiences onto things that are only somewhat related and then extrapolate “facts” about the fiction that are, many times, actively shut down and/or disproven by that fictions lore or story or plot.

And, like, it’s normal to relate fictional things to your personal stories if you see connections to them. I’d wager a good amount of people find some aspect of a character they like/love that sticks out to them specifically because of a similarity they share of some kind, whether big or small. I know of people who’s fave superhero is The Flash because The Flash is fast and they ran track and hey, that’s cool, a superhero who’s ability is running really fuckin’ fast and I wanna be really fuckin’ fast. To use myself as an example, I can relate to the struggles Claude specifically has with race because many of the things he says correlate very well to my personal experiences with race. So, going by that line of logic, the opposite is clearly going to happen as well; there are many villains, or characters of either or neither allegiance towards good and evil, who have traits that personally affect someone in a negative way.

But here’s the thing about that... Claude and I have similar experiences with race. He’s still a prince, and I’m still someone who’s never seen above the poverty line in terms of income. He’s never had to live off a box of Whoppers he happened to find under his bed for three days to hold off until the food stamps come in because there’s just no food and no money to get any food. And on the flip side, I’ve never had people try to kill me just cuz I’m mixed. I’ve never felt the pressure of having to lead thousands of people to safety or have them die, directly due to my inability to lead them well enough. We still have extremely different lives and I can acknowledge those differences when looking into his character, regardless of whatever connection I may have with him otherwise, and that’s where these people fail in terms of critically consuming 3H as a piece of media.

These people - understandably, to an extent - look at Rhea, this devout religious woman who heads a major religious institution, and they automatically connect the language she uses as a devout religious person to the negative experiences they personally had with religion... without acknowledging the differences between the two. They see Rhea and they don’t see a bisexual who surrounds herself with and gives shelter to former criminals, foreigners, and people in need of a home while asking for little in return - they see their local pastor, or some other religious leader/person, who’ve done them wrong, and thus Rhea hates gay people, she hates POC, she’s a zealot and unreasonable and she’s this terrible person with no redeeming qualities. And this isn’t me arm-chair psychology-ing these people - they poke fun at themselves about how much they let their personal experiences cloud their judgement of the game and its characters with bingo cards for liking Edelgard having “raised with religion” be one of the slots and things like that. 

And really, why else would “religious institution led by white-presenting race of people” be automatically turned into “racist, homophobic, misogynistic, and violent to any who aren’t their religion” when 1) one of the main characters - the one calling Rhea racist - himself eventually says that racial diversity fits well and snug in the Seiros faith, 2) not only is the leader and founder of the religion a bisexual woman, but no one says anything about having their love be confined to one specific gender anywhere, with heavily coded LGBT relationships like Shamir+Catherine and Dorothea+Petra being just as LGBT coded in SS - where Rhea can potentially come back as archbishop - as anywhere else - hell, when one of the most devout followers of Rhea clearly is romantically interested in her and faces no repercussions or consequences for openly being so despite being female herself, and 3) the Church only ever uses violence when either called from the outside for help or forced to when outside forces try to attack them? Why are we hearing all of these awful things about the Church when it sometimes is never even implied? 

It’s in large part due to religion being such a sensitive part of people’s lives that they are unable to disconnect their personal experiences with religion with the fictional religion the media they’re interacting with provides them. Rhea, as a devout religious leader, especially with how genuinely morally gray she is, was never going to land well over here in the west, double especially to an audience of people that very clearly are already inclined to ignore pieces of the game’s story, lore, plot, and character interactions to fit their own preferred version of what’s happening. Triple fuckin’ wombo-combo especially since the game itself fails to do Rhea any favors until the literal last second of two out of four routes and only shove in her directly admitting she was wrong in her actions in the hardest support chain to build up in the entire game, and even then only at the last part of it. Poor girly didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell

[amorevolous-chionophile]

Mommy

❆ Fluff ❆ 5,710 words ❆ dad!Hongjoong x babysitter!reader ❆

@soft-black-teabag​ is the precious mastermind behind this idea 💜

"Yes I understand... Yes... Yes I will be there."  Hongjoong sighed as he hung up the call and mentally cursed. His boss called, saying that he has to jump in to fill a shift urgently to help, as his co-worker called in sick last minute, since he lacks work hours. He glanced to the living room to check up on the reason of his lacking work hours, his little princess and he couldn't help but smile as he saw her happily playing with her designer's kit for children which he somehow managed to afford for her birthday since she proclaimed that she wants to be just like her daddy. Since he was taking care of her alone, he had to miss shifts from time to time as there were instances where none of his friends could fill in for him. He prayed that this wasn't one of those times because his boss warned him that if he doesn't show up to work in two hours he will get fired and he couldn't lose that job. Hongjoong took on a great number of jobs through the years to have his little minion live a nice and happy life. He keeps each of his jobs for as long as the boss is tolerant enough of him being late or missing whole shifts. He hates that he gives them a hard time, but raising a child as a single parent isn't an easy job and he is trying his best, he really is. Hiring a babysitter was an option sure, but Hongjoong couldn't afford one and even if he could, there was no way that he would ever leave his precious child to a complete stranger. He sighed once more before tapping in the message to the group chat, there are seven of them, surely one of them is free, right?

Wooyoung was in the middle of a game when a notification rang, signaling that a message had arrived on his phone. That wouldn't have been a problem if he wasn't in class and the notification didn't echo through the classroom. The college professor gave him a threatening look from above the rim of his glasses to what Wooyoung smiled nervously and pretended to move his phone back to his pocket before muting it and proceeding to read the message as soon as the professor looked away like nothing happened seconds ago. You eyed him judgingly from the seat next to him.  "Wooyoung, you are going to get in trouble." Not that most professors at college care if you are on your phone, laptop, are you listening or not... But this one was a bit of a nitpicking pain that always says that you should respect the time which he is giving to you in order to gift you knowledge by at least listening. He always made it sound like he doesn't get any compensation for what he does, not like he gets paid. Wooyoung looked at you with the most offended face he could make.  "Don't talk in class you'll get us in trouble."  He put a finger to his lips and couldn't help but smile to what you rolled your eyes and smiled as well returning your attention to the professor as Wooyoung returned his gaze to his phone. He entered the group chat to find that everyone already responded. He scrolled to the first message to see what all that was about, just to find Hongjoong's panicked message about needing someone as fast as possible to look over his child. Wooyoung loved that child like he was her uncle, and not just him, all of the boys warmed up to that little ray of sunshine. As he scrolled he noticed that none of the other boys were available, for valid reasons and he mentally sighed as he had to tell Hongjoong that he wasn't either.  Wooyoung: "I have a makeup exam. I must retake it, it's half of my mark. I'm really sorry."  This time he audibly sighed. He had major respect for Hongjoong, the guy was torn on million sides, he sacrificed his college and his free time for the sake of his child. That's why he felt bad for not being able to do anything in this situation.  Seonghwa: "Hongjoong, could you please reconsider all that about the babysitter?"  Yunho: "Yes, please, if money is the problem we can help you with that."  Hongjoong: "I know, but even if I agree, how can I get any babysitter to come in less than an hour? No worries guys, I'll just find another job."  Wooyoung was too preoccupied with his phone and thoughts of how to help to notice the professor eyeing him suspiciously. You however noticed and nudged him to snap out of it or he won't even have the chance to take that makeup exam. He rapidly turned his head to you, his eyes widening and your face crunching from confusion. It was seconds before he returned his attention to his phone.  Wooyoung: "I am a genius. I have solved all of your problems 😇"  Yeosang: "This is gonna be good."  Hongjoong: "?"  Wooyoung: "Y/N!"  Hongjoong: "Who?"  San: "Oooh, nice!👍🏻👍🏻"  Yeosang: "I am disappointed I am not disappointed with that answer. That is your first good idea since...ever."  Jongho: "How come that idea never crossed our minds before."  Mingi: "That would be so adorable to see. Just think of that cuteness duo!😸🥰"  Hongjoong: "Guys, would you please concentrate and tell me who that is."  You had to nudge Wooyoung again, stronger this time because he was visibly testing the professor's patience.  "Wooyoung, leave that phone, the professor is giving you a death stare I think even the room temperature decreased."  You whispered almost inaudibly to what he turned off his screen, nudged the phone to the side of his desk and shifted his gaze up smiling innocently to the professor. You couldn't help but pinch the bridge of your nose letting out a breathy laugh at his carefree attitude.

Hongjoong: "Wooyoung, who's y/n?"  Seonghwa: "Seems like he's not here anymore."  Jongho: "What... who leaves in a moment like that."  San: "I think he and y/n have class with that ice drama queen professor."  Yeosang: "He probably used all of his energy to come up with that idea, his system must have shut down."  San: "Yeosang... Who hurt you young child?"  Yeosang: "Whoever ate my fried chicken the last time we hung out."  Mingi: "But why are you taking it out on Wooyoung when Yunho ate your chicken 😂"  Yunho: "He. Didn't. Know. That."  Mingi: "Oops, I didn't know that."  Yeosang: "Well, it's only important that now I know that."  Yunho: "🙃"  Hongjoong: " G U Y S. I'm kinda running out of time here."  Seonghwa: "You remember how we mentioned Wooyoung's neighbor that hung out with us probably every single time when you weren't there?"  Hongjoong: "Oh yeah, I forgot her name, so y/n... I'm not so sure, how well do you guys know her?"  Mingi: "Wooyoung knows her best since she was his neighbor and classmate from the very start of college."  Jongho: "But since he's not here, your second best options are San, Yeosang and me. Well Yeosang and me."  San: "Hey 🥺"  Yeosang: "Yes, since we attend the same college we meet quite frequently so I assure you that she is a good choice."  San: "Are you all ignoring me now 🥺"  Jongho: " I strongly agree with Yeosang, not once did she leave a bad impression."  San: "..."  Hongjoong: "Well not like I have a choice at this point anyway."  Seonghwa: "Since I sense that you are still unsure, I remember this one time when she got a call from her sister and had to leave to look after her nephews."  Yunho: "So that means she knows with children. I mean you got a winning combo here." Hongjoong: "But I don't know, what if the two of them don't get along, what if something happens"  Jongho: "I just wanna remind you that this was Wooyoung's idea to which even Yeosang agreed"  Mingi: "I think that this is the first time something like this happened 😅"  Seonghwa: "Come on Hongjoong, you know we love your child almost as much as you do. We would never propose something that would be potentially dangerous for her."  Hongjoong: "Alright... Fine"

Finally, for what seemed ten times longer than the original ten minutes it should have lasted, the bell rang, signaling the end of the class. You stretched your arms, still sitting down, while Wooyoung rapidly swiped trough his phone to catch up on the conversation that he missed, hoping to run into Hongjoong's agreement. You eyed him suspiciously when he jolted up with an excited "yes". You mirrored his actions and got up as well, gathering your stuff.  "What happened, the makeup exam got postponed?"  He let out a sad whining sound before gathering his stuff as well.  "As if, not even in my dreams."  He swung his backpack on his back and typed something in his phone excitedly.  "Then what is..."  Before you could finish, he grabbed your wrist and started speed walking towards the door and into the hallway, opposite of the direction of where his exam is supposed to be.  "Wait Wooyoung, what is going on?"  But you were not graced by any kind of answer in return. When you exited the building, you were even more puzzled to see Yeosang, San and Jongho there. Before you could ask again, Wooyoung went into medical commercial narrator mode.  "So you remember how we mentioned our friend that has a rainbow sunshine pink sparkly precious child after who he looks after alone and that sometimes we fill in because he has to work and all. Well today we are all busy and if he doesn't go to work he will get fired and he really needs that job and he can't leave the child alone and so we thought that maybe, probably, eventually you could look after her because we don't have much time since he needs to go to work soon and pretty much we don't have any other option...please?"  You blinked trying to process everything you just heard as Wooyoung grabbed your hand and shook it giving you the puppy dog eyes look. You closed your eyes trying to form a coherent question in return to all that.  "Wha..."  But San interrupted you, joining Wooyoung in the hand shaking puppy dog eyes squad. "Pleeease, the child is a sweetheart I swear. I promise you two will get along perfectly, and the cuteness oh God, you two will be the cutest duo ever."  You shook your head, really trying to keep up with the both of them, looking around to find a spot to focus on in order to actually have a chance to think about the proposal, when you noticed Yeosang and Jongho standing on a greater distance from you than when they originally were, talking among themselves, pretending not to know you three. You couldn't blame them. "Wait you two, wait a second. I mean I am free now and I would love to help, but I am not sure about all this? To him I am a stranger and from what I have picked up from your stories he wouldn't leave his child with just anyone so I don't think he will agree to this. Also a child... I'm not sure, it's not the same as looking after my nephews."  Wooyoung let go of your hand in order to swipe through his phone for a brief second before showing you a message of Hongjoong's agreement, more like shoving it in your face.  "He already agreed, it's only left for you to agree so please."  You almost winced from the frequency Wooyoung's voice managed to hit. You were kinda at a dead end in that moment. You had no reasons to refuse, not like you even wanted to refuse an opportunity to help someone in a tight situation so the answer was pretty obvious.  "Okay, just tell me the address and..."  Your proclamation was interrupted with Wooyoung and San squealing and, for the sake of their souls, let's say that those were manly squeals. They ran up to Yeosang and Jongho and excitedly announced that you have agreed before Wooyoung proceeded to run back to the college entrance in his style, shouting.  "I'm late for the makeup exam, I will text you the address before I..."  Was all you managed to hear before his voice became inaudible.  "Wooyoung, I swear to God."  You whispered in your chin before joining the remaining trio in order to say goodbye.

Hongjoong was running around his apartment, grabbing his necessities before a tiny voice called out to him.  "Daddy?"  The young girl was standing underneath the notably larger doorframe, questioningly tilting her head to the side.  "You said you would stay home today."  Her face welcomed a small pout. Hongjoong quickly squatted to her eye level, one hand on her shoulder, while the other caressed the crown of her head.  "I know princess, but they called daddy to come today. I promise I will make it up to you."  He smiled, hoping to reassure her.  "I just miss you."  She proclaimed sadly before wrapping her small arms around his neck. Saying that his heart shattered into million pieces would be an understatement. He sighed heavily and wrapped his hands around her, lifting her up.  "I'm sorry it has to be this way."  He said that more to himself before the melody of the doorbell filled the house. The girl looked in her dad's eyes with newfound interest.  "Which uncle is coming today?"  Hongjoong smiled nervously, not sure how to deliver the news and more importantly not knowing what the reaction will be.  "About that..."  He hesitated as he went towards the door with her still in his arms.  "It's uncle Wooyoung's friend."  He confessed, opening the door, not sure himself what to expect. What greeted him there was a warm, smiling figure, immediately putting him at ease.  "Hello, I'm Wooyoung's classmate, y/n. It's nice to meet you Hongjoong."  You gave a little wave before grinning to the little girl.  "And this must be the princess I have heard so much about."  The girl smiled in return, resting her head on her dad's shoulder, still a bit shy.  "Hello."  Hongjoong motioned you to enter before he closed the door behind you, a faint scent of his shampoo hitting you.  "I should hurry now, thank you for coming on such short notice."  You were in the process of taking off your shoes while you replied.  "Don't worry, it's a pleasure to help."  You rose back up stretching out your arms for Hongjoong to give the girl to you.  "Oh there's no reason for that, she may be too heavy for you, besides she is daddy's big girl, she can walk."  Hongjoong went to put her down, but to his surprise he ran into the girl's resentment, as she stretched her arms out to you in return. You smiled warmly and took the child in your arms, patting her back.  "It's not a problem really."  You reassured Hongjoong as you turned to the girl.  "This way we can assist daddy together while he is getting ready for work, right?"  The girl chimed happily in response. Hongjoong didn't notice or he didn't want to notice how his brain blocked all of his actions for a brief second wanting to absorb that moment and so he continued with tying his shoelaces a moment after as if nothing happened. Hongjoong was about to exit when you noticed a phone on the cupboard next to you, so you quickly stop him. "Hongjoong, I think you forgot your phone."  He checked in all his pockets to check before he accepted the phone from you grasp and thanked you with a warm smile.  "Daddy will be back before you know it princess, be nice to y/n."  He bent down to plant a kiss on the girl's cheek, before her little hands grabbed his face and turned his head in order to do the same. The scene had you internally melting from all the cuteness. Hongjoong went out the door, and you trailed him standing on the doorframe.  "Wave to daddy."  You told the girl who shook her hand smiling from ear to ear, you copying her. There was it again, that moment that Hongjoong felt shoot through his heart and brain.

You caressed the girl's cheek before putting a blanket atop of her, snuggling her to sleep. You put the fairytale book you were reading her a bedtime story from on the shelf. You decided to leave the lamp on, just a bit more dimmed as you were not sure whether or not she was afraid of the dark. She fell asleep pretty quickly, and it was no wonder, for the whole day you were doing all kind of things together, playing pretend, fashion designer, telling stories, watching cartoons, eating. You tried to engage her in everything you could, you really gave it your all, and it was easy because she was indeed a pure angel child. You sat in the living room, lowering the volume of the tv in order to hear if she wakes up. You had time to peacefully look around the apartment which was an interesting fusion of an art and music studio, laced with the essence of a family home. You also noticed that the home was sparkly clean. You didn't know that that was Seonghwa's doing however. He was the last to babysit, just the day before you. He and the girl were playing fashion designer when Seonghwa made the grave mistake of commenting how she put too much glitter on a particular piece of clothing. Second after that he had a child proclaiming that he shouldn't question her fashion sense and glitter pretty much... everywhere. So after putting her to sleep he engaged himself in cleaning all the glitter, and cleaning glitter is not an easy job, not to mention that he himself resembled a disco ball with all the glitter he had in his hair. He somehow ended cleaning even the rest and who knows when he would have stopped if Hongjoong haven't arrived home. You basically absent mindedly gazed into the cartoon on the tv which was muted when your phone buzzed and brought you back to your senses. It was a message from an unknown number, but from the content of the message you figured it was Hongjoong.  Hongjoong: I will be back about 10 minutes.  You saved his contact before replying.  You: Thanks for giving me a notice, I will wait for you. I put her to sleep, so you have nothing to worry about.  And just like that you spent those 10 minutes watching a cartoon on mute before you heard a clatter of keys trying to unlock the door, but being unable to due the keys from the inside of the door.  "I'm coming."  You whisper-yelled, afraid not to wake the girl as you hurried to the door. You turned the keys and opened the door, smiling.  "Welcome home."  It was probably due to not having a chance to hear that often, but his heart slightly fluttered at your welcome and he couldn't help but smile a little.  "As I already mentioned, she is sound asleep..."  You trailed off as you went to pick up your belongings from the living room, not wanting to yell and as soon as you returned you started putting on your shoes.  "She is a wonderful child, you raised her very well."  You gave him a wide smile as you started putting on your coat.  "We made dinner together and left you some in the refrigerator so you can heat it up if you want. You must be tired so I will be going now."  As you took ahold of the knob, he took ahold of your forearm. You turned around, giving him a puzzled look as to which he just took out his wallet.  "No Hongjoong please, I did not do this for money. Besides, that child already repaid me with her smile, I really had a nice time today."  You shook your hands before your face in defense.  "There's no way I can let you leave without anything, you lost your whole day."  He took out his money and was handing it to you, but you were not an easy nut to crack.  "Can we make a deal then? If I happen to look after her again, I will accept, okay?"  He sighed in defeat, dropping the argument as it was leading nowhere. But that idea of you babysitting again, deep down he liked it.  "Alright, alright."  You exited the door waving at him.  "Why don't you at least let me call you a cab? It's pretty dark outside for you to be walking alone."  Shaking your head you turned to him.  "Don't worry about me, go back to that precious little child."  He nodded, closing the door.  "Hongjoong..."  He halted and looked at you expectantly.  "See you."  And like that, you parted.

Little did you know that she would want you to come look after her again and again and again. Hongjoong of course, refused her at first, not wanting to trouble you, but soon he just gave up. And you didn't mind really, that child grew onto you like on anyone she meets. This time you were just going to visit her for no particular reason, you just had free time. You knocked on the door you grew used to and the man you started to develop faint feelings for opened.  "Oh hi, come on in."  He gave you his usual smile and you obliged. Just after barely taking one shoe off you heard your name being shouted from across the hall by a little human who was running to tackle hug you.  "How's my favourite princess doing?"  She smiled from ear to ear, as she always did.  "Good! Daddy and I were just talking about you!"  You rose a brow as you shot a glance at Hongjoong who was smiling nervously.  "Daddy asked me if I would want you..."  She was unable to finish her sentence because Hongjoong interupted, cutting her mid sentence. "You know, we were just planning on going grocery shopping, so you don't have to take off your shoes if you wanna come with us."  You returned your attention to the child, whispering into her ear.  "You'll tell me later."  You smooched her cheek before raising back up nodding at Hongjoong.  "Let's go."

"Hongjoong, you forgot to get the tomatoes... How do you expect that we make the bolognese sauce without tomatoes?"  You waved in front of his face with a wooden spoon threateningly.  "Sorry, I was hindered by a certain small being that strongly wanted a package of gummy bears."  You just chuckled at his troubled expression.  "We can just improvise something then, I guess. At least she got what she wanted."  You nodded in the direction where the previously mentioned small being was eating her gummy bears, her attention on the cartoon playing on the tv.  "I have a weakness for her, what was I supposed to do."  Hongjoong gave you a troubled smile as he was growing scared of that wooden spoon in your grip. You couldn't resist the urge to ruffle his hair.  "Go rest, you were working for the whole day yesterday. Your eye bags are so big, they could be used as bowls."  He shook his head.  "I can't leave everything to you..."  You squinted your eyes and raised the wooden spoon back in his sight.  "We will all rest when we eat, how does that sound?"  You rolled your eyes at him jokingly.  "You were always a tough negotiator, have it your way."  Smiling to your agreement he let out a breathy laugh, not really sure how to react to the given situation. You were gifting him precious moments he could only dream of before. Like having someone to welcome him, see him off, look after him and his baby, make a meal for him, and all that just made him wish that he could do the same for you.

"Hongjoong, I am actually amazed at your cooking skills." You confessed as you plopped yourself on the couch, the little minion automatically manifesting on your side hugging you. Hongjoong went to sit on the other side of the couch before he was stopped by his little girl. "Daddy, I want you to sit here."  She patted the free spot next to her, and Hongjoong just obliged, placing himself next to you two.  "Now I want you two to hug me."  She giggled as if she knew exactly what she was doing. As you put your arms around the little minion and connected them on the small of Hongjoong's back, he did the same. Your head rested on his shoulder, inhaling the same scent from the first day when you met him, his head rested on your shoulder looking longingly at the one person he wished for from the first day he met you, and in-between you two, a brightly smiling child who loved both of you was seated.

And so again, you went to them, they came to you. When Hongjoong was working, you were babysitting and when he was free the three of you just casually spent time together. This one time, when Hongjoong returned from work you were still in the process of putting the minion to sleep. Hongjoong inspected you closely as you ran after the child while taking off his coat and boots and he couldn't help but smile. You halted for a minute to welcome him, while the minion was long gone from sight. As you turned back to go after her you could hear her voice from the room.  "Mommy hurry, I want you to read me a story before I fall asleep."  You froze to the spot and looked to Hongjoong wide eyed as he did the exact same thing. Your face welcomed a shade of pink as you turned around and marched forward, not being able to face him.  "C-coming princess."

"Hey Hongjoong."  You peeked inside the living room, finally mustering up the courage to face him after what happened earlier, but to your luck, or misfortune, he was asleep. You would have let him be and went home as it was that he even gave you the key to his apartment, but you couldn't leave him in such a uncomfortable position. He must have fell asleep while waiting for you. You shook him lightly by the shoulder, afraid not to startle him. Your heart fluttered the same time his tired eyes fluttered open.  "I just didn't want to leave you in an uncomfortable position, I will be leaving now. Get some rest."  You blabbered and were ready to leave.  "Could you stay... a bit longer?"  Originally, it would not have been a problem, but this time around your nerves were getting the better of you. However, not having a proper reason to refuse, you sat on the couch next to Hongjoong, sighing.  "May I?"  He was asking you to lay on your legs. Again, it wasn't the first time, but never before did he ask nor did you feel nervous while his soft features were beneath your reach. However, on instinct your fingers started playing with his hair and he momentarily relaxed. Feeling restless you just had the urge to start a talk about something, anything.  "Hongjoong, you never told me what happened to your...uhm...her real m..."  You found it quite difficult to word the sentence, luckily Hongjoong caught on and saved you the struggle.  "We had my princess when we were nineteen..."

Hongjoong and his girlfriend at the time didn't even plan marriage, a baby? Even less. But she found out she was pregnant and after a lot of negotiations and talking, they decided to keep the baby and promised that they would handle every obstacle on their way. Neither of them ever dreamed that their first and biggest obstacle were their own parents. Both sides gave them the cold shoulder, but not all hope was lost. They believed that when the baby is born, their parents would change their mind. It was a brutal strike to both of them when, even with the birth of their baby girl, nothing changed. They weren't making much and they could barely take care of even themselves. That is when the girl wavered. She was scared for her future and she insisted that they give the baby for adoption. Hongjoong however, didn't want to hear about it. He didn't want to give his precious treasure to some random stranger. He also couldn't care less about his parents rejecting him. They always treated him as if he was a nuisance, so what was the difference now. His girlfriend, however, left and he never blamed her for that. She lied to her parents that she put her child up for adoption, she split up with Hongjoong and broke off every contact with him and the baby out of fear that her parents would kick her out again. Through all that time the only person Hongjoong kept contact with was his brother. Even against Hongjoong's will his brother keeps sending him money from time to time. Hongjoong on the other hand sends him back videos and pictures of the little minion doing whatnot. This is the exact reason why Hongjoong is making sure to make her real uncle a part of her life as much as possible. The number of times the uncle burst into tears after hearing a little voice through the phone calling him to come and meet her is a large one. There was nothing he could do about that as he lived on the other side of Korea. The only thing his brother didn't tell Hongjoong is that their parents greatly regret their choices and want to see their grandchild. But Hongjoong will find out himself when and if they decide to let go of their stupid idea of pride.

"...and that's how the two of us ended up like this."  It was not until your tear fell on his face that he noticed that you were crying.  "Hey, don't cry for that."  He raised his hand in order to wipe away the watery paths that your tears left on your face.  "She now finally has a mum as she said. I can't thank you enough for playing that role for her, no let me take that back, you are not playing that role. After all this time of looking after her you can call yourself her mum."  His comment only turned on the faucet that let more tears fall.  "Thank you for saying so Hongjoong."  He rose from your legs and turned to face you.  "I didn't plan to do it like this but here it goes."  He cupped your chin and leaned into you, his only support being his other hand. Your heart went on a rampage, throwing itself randomly against your rib cage causing irregularities in your breath. Hongjoong softly smiled when he noticed your reaction, feeling reassured to carry on with his confession.  "I started attaching myself to you from the first time you stood on that door. At first I wasn't sure if that was because..."  You cut him off by placing your lips onto his in a sweet kiss unsure if your heart would be able to last through his whole speech. You pulled away shyly forcing yourself to look him in the eye. Now it was official, until now you were practically just a couple without that official stamp. It felt nice, it felt like home.  "You will tell me later, I wasn't sure if I was able to survive through it all."  You grinned and he shook his head, smiling as well before he leaned in again.

"Okay is everyone ready?"  You asked eagerly after hearing Hongjoong approach the door.  "I don't understand why we have to wear this."  Yeosang retorted, not amused in the slightest before Yunho appeared from behind him and pulled him into the room to hide like he was pulling him in a back alley to kidnap him, what made the situation more amusing was Yeosang's uninterested face.  "Come on Yeosang we don't have much time for questions."  Yunho whispered in his ear as they both disappeared into the darkness of the room. You sighed in relief as everyone was finally on their position just as you heard the keys and the door knob. And then there on the door appeared Hongjoong.  "Welcome home, come on sweetie."  You welcomed Hongjoong and guided his, no, both of your child to him.  "Daddy, mommy bought me a minion onesie, look!"  She ran up to Hongjoong and extended her arms up to him.  "It's beautiful love! What does it say here... I'm gonna be a sister..."  Hongjoong's eyes widened as his heart skipped a few beats and he would have jumped to hug you right then and there if he wasn't startled by seven men who ran at him at the same time, wearing a "I'm going to be an uncle (again)" shirts, pink shirts. Hongjoong's eyes widened again before he passed the child to Seonghwa to come and finally hug you.  "So another girl huh?"  You smiled widely back to him, nodding and he returned an even wider smile.  "What week are you?"  He caressed your still unnoticeable bump.  "The doctor said 15th, the stomach is going to start to show from here on."  He hugged you careful not to squish you too much.  "I love you, thank you for giving me everything and making me a happy man."  He pressed his forehead to yours.  "I should be the one thanking you, Joong."  Your lips met again just like they did yesterday and just like they will tomorrow.  "I want to hug with mommy and daddy too!"  And just like that your little intimate moment became a group hug of all the people you considered family.

[autisticcassandracain]

I have many thoughts on the weird phenomena in the DC fandom and the Batfam fandom specifically where probably the majority of people just straight up. haven’t interacted with the source material. and almost all of those thoughts can be summarized as ‘lmao that’s weird and mildly concerning’.

and because I’m annoying I will list them all here right now <3

1. To preface this post, I mean, obviously, comics are inaccessible as all hell, both in the disability kind of way and the ‘you need to understand the concept of hypertime to fully comprehend the DC timeline’ kind of way. Because of this, even if you don’t have a disability that prevents you from reading comics, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to look at the amount of comics you need to read to have even a base understanding of a character and go ‘no thanks <3′ and just enjoy fanart and fanfic in a vacuum. Ultimately, this is fandom, this is supposed to be fun, it doesn’t really matter.

2. That said, it’s VERY weird to me that the majority of this fandom just straight up hasn’t interacted with the source material, and moreover, that it’s considered rude to tell people that they should do so. It’s especially weird considering the amount of fanon-only fans I’ve seen who straight up have a superiority complex over canon. The idea that it’s gatekeeping to tell fans of something to actually interact with canon is just. so weird, and a fundamental misunderstanding of what ‘gatekeeping’ actually entails. 

3. But honestly I’m less interested in discussing the ways in which canon and fanon fans should interact with each other (personally, I think it would be helpful to create separate tags of some kind, but that’d require quite a big overhaul of the current fandom state) than in figuring out how this actually happened in the first place. On the one hand, it’s obvious; long-running superhero comics the way DC writes them have made themselves so thoroughly inaccessible that most people are simply too daunted to even try. Most media has a cohesive beginning and end (or at least, a planned end somewhere). Comics just... don’t.

But I do think it says something that, even among people who are clearly interested in the characters (since they have, you know, entire blogs about them), the effort to get into comics just seems to be too much to even bother. This really doesn’t bode well for the future of DC Comics. Obviously, I am no expert on anything at all ever, but I’d personally be surprised if DC survives beyond the few decades, at least in its current form/without a big overhaul.

4. But on the other hand, I don’t think the confusing state of DC Comics is the only thing to blame here. Fandom has a well-known problem with reducing any character down to archetypes to more easily ship and write fic/make content with. This problem is particularly prominent in fanfic, which, if you read enough of it, you’ll eventually start seeing not just the same tropes and trends, but essentially the same fics over and over again. And not just within the same fandom; everywhere, or every large fandom, at least. 

Fanon Batfam is entirely built on a bunch of those tropes; insecure/depressed sadboy Tim, team mom with optional hidden trauma/emotional problems Dick, bad boy with a heart of gold + sadboy combo Jason, abused sadboy Damian/angry easily-villified-for-fic-reasons monster Damian, good dad Bruce for found family fic and bad dad Bruce for angst fic, etc. This all culminates in a found family dynamic that’s generic and malleable to whatever fic the writer wants to write.

(This isn’t getting into the ship fic, which I avoid like the plague because the vast majority of it is incest, but I’d bet real actual money that the tropes in those fics fall under what is often preferred by the Migratory Slash Fandom.)

By having a decent excuse not to get into canon (the inaccessibility of comics) and a, by now, well-established fanon fandom, many fans feel free to use the batfam fandom as essentially an excuse to write whatever fic with reduced archetypes and tropes they personally feel the itch to write, without having to bother with even consuming a canon. This is compounded by the fact that canon itself is often contradictory and frankly bad, meaning that whatever interpretation of a character you want/need to go for your fic is at least theoretically backed up by canon (for example, you can just as easily cast Bruce as an abusive shithole dad who his kids need to get away from as a loving father figure who cares deeply for his children), which you can always use as a defense if people question your characterization.

5. This focus on fandom trends and tropes over actual creativity or care for the characters is also visible in the way bigotry manifests in this fandom; namely, in literally the exact way you’d expect. The female characters and characters of colour are shuffled to the side, non-existent, vilified, and/or reduced to harmful stereotypes. 

Barbara is probably the one I saw the most often in fanfic, but usually just as ‘Dick’s girlfriend’, and even then, she was often vilified for Dick angst (especially in fics about examining Dick’s trauma from his canon sexual assault; Kori also often gets the short end of the stick in those). After that, probably Stephanie, who fanon fans don’t really seem to know what to do with, so she’s basically just there as comic relief waffle girl, most of the time, though sometimes she can be used to either further Tim angst or further vilify Tim, whatever the fic calls for. Cass has gotten included more in batfam fics as of late, likely in response to critiques of fandom racism for leaving her out, but again, it’s clear people don’t actually know what to do with her. She’s often reduced to a racist stereotype of a quite, stoic therapist for whatever guy du jour needs it. That, or she’s in Hong Kong and just not there. Duke especially gets left in the dust in fandom, usually just being non-existent, but when he’s there, he’s almost always nothing more than the straight man for the actual fun characters to play off of. Talia probably has it the worst, though, and almost universally gets vilified by fanon stans in order to write sadboy Damian.

All of this is extremely predictable behaviour and falls entirely in line with general fandom misogyny and racism; ignoring or vilifying women and characters of colour, or using them as very minor characters at best. The only two characters of colour who aren’t regularly left out of fic are Dick and Damian, who are both also conveniently the two characters most often drawn and written in a whitewashed manner. In addition, there’s a real trend of demonizing Damian in fanon fics where he isn’t written as an abused sadboy, which I’d argue is in no small part due to fandom racism, considering Damian’s behaviour is in no way as bad as Jason’s, who doesn’t get anywhere close to the same demonization and gets woobiefied instead. I also find it convenient that Damian is probably the batboy who receives the most vilification in fic, when he’s the most obviously non-white of the batboys they’re willing to acknowledge.

Fandom often cries for more diversity in canon, only to ignore the diversity already there and focus on the same generic white guys. The batfam fandom is a brilliant example of this.

Which is not to say that fandom racism and misogyny isn’t present in the canon parts of the fandom (and canon itself); it absolutely 100% is. But I’ve found that canon fans are also more likely to like and care about at least one of the characters I’ve listed as ignored/vilified, and are willing to create and consume content for them, whereas fanon fans... aren’t, really. I’ve never seen a fan of fanon Cass the way I’ve seen fans of fanon Dick, for example. Obviously, this could just be by coincidence, or I’ve just surrounded myself with people like that, but it’s been a trend I noticed. Racism and misogyny is present in every part of this fandom and should be addressed as such, but I feel like it manifests the most blatantly in the fanon parts of this fandom. 

(I’d also recommend the articles Migratory Slash Fandom’s Focus and Beige Blank Slates, which expand more on the type of fandom racism I think is especially prominent in the batfam fandom, as well as literally every article in the What Fandom Racism Looks Like series.)

6. All this leads me to conclude that the majority of fanon fans don’t actually like the characters all that much; they’re convenient excuses for them to participate in fandom. Which I also think is, in no small part, a reason why so many of them react so negatively to being told to pick up a comic; they came to this fandom specifically to consume it as a fandom, because they wanted the fandom experience without having to consume a canon. 

This is not a phenomena unique to the batfam fandom (again, see the Migratory Slash Fandom), but it does fascinate me. While fandom is often said to be an experience focusing on transformative art, I think it’s also safe to say that, especially as fandom has become more mainstream, an increasing amount of people are looking to it less as a way to engage with their favourite pieces of media, and more as a type of media in and of itself. I think the reasons for this are similar to the reasons mass media entertainment like the MCU are so popular; you gain a lot of enjoyment out of it with very little risk involved. 

By consuming the same fics of the same characters (or the same archetypes) over and over again, you are rarely at risk of being challenged or even disappointed. It’s often very clear right from the start whether or not a fic will appeal to you, and if it isn’t, it’s easy to just look for another one. It requires less emotional investment than most other types of media, even ‘popcorn media’ like the MCU - or, yes, DC Comics. It’s safe, it’s enjoyable, it’s comforting, like McDonalds, but just like McDonalds, it’s ultimately bland and unsubstantial. 

7, TL;DR. Ultimately, I don’t think it’s like, wrong to enjoy the fanon version of the batfam without wanting to engage with canon, and I certainly don’t think it’s okay to harrass people over it. But I do think it’s in large part based on a desire to interact with fandom rather than other pieces of media because people are scared of being let down by those pieces of media (or worse, just uninterested in actually thinking), which is mildly concerning. 

[freddiekluger]

Why Cap Being Internally Closeted Is Not Only Possible, But Valid Representation 

i wrote this to a lot of mitski and onsind, so you can’t blame me for any feelings that bleed through

now i don’t know if it actually exists, but i’ve heard of there being a lot of discourse surrounding the captains story arc regarding his sexuality- i believe the general gist is that having a queer character that remains closeted to themselves is either unrealistic or ‘bad’ representation, and as someone who really treasures the captain and relates to his story so far a lot, i thought i might break this down a bit. 

i’ve divded up every complaint i’ve heard about this into four main questions which i’ll be covering below the ‘keep reading’, because this is gonna be pretty comprehensive. full disclaimer i reference my experiences as an ex-evangelical non binary butch lesbian a couple times, and i spent a year studying repression and the psychological impacts of high demand sexual ethics for my graduating sociology paper, so this is coming with some background to it i swear

the big questions:

can you EVEN be gay and not know it????

but isn't this just ANOTHER coming out arc, and aren't we supposed to be moving beyond those?

but if cap can't have a relationship with a man because he's a ghost, what's the point?

since cap's dead, isn't this technically bury your gays, and isn't that bad? 

1. "but is it really possible to not know? Isn't that bad representation?"

short answer: no and no.

before i get into the validity of the captain's ignorance about his own orientation as 21st century rep, let's break down how the hell the captain can be so clearly attracted to men and still not even consider the possibility that he might be gay, as brought to you by someone who literally experienced this shit.

the captain's particular situation is both a direct result of the lack of information around human sexuality he would have had (aka clear messaging that it's actually possible for him to be attracted to men. i don't mean acceptable or allowed, i mean physically capable of happening- the idea that orientations other than heterosexual exist and are available to him, a man), and a subconscious survival mechanism. the environment in which he lives is outright hostile to gay people, while the military man identity he has constructed for himself doesn't allow for any form of deviation from societal norms, let alone one so base level and major. as a result of this killer combo of information and environment, instincts take over and the mind does it's best to repress the ‘deviant’ feelings until a. one of these two things changes, or b. the act of repression becomes so destructive and/or exhuasting that it becomes impossible to maintain. the key to maintaining a long-term state of repression of desire is diverting that energy elsewhere, and a high-demand group such as the military is the perfect place for the captain to do this (this technqiue is frequented by religions and extremist ideologies worldwide, but that’s not really what we’re here to focus on). 

while the brain is actively repressing ‘deviant’ feelings (aka gay shit), this doesn't mean you don't experience the feelings at all. when performed as a subconscious act of survival, the aim of repression is to minimise/transform the feelings into a state where they can no longer cause immediate danger, and something as big as sexual/romantic orientation is going to keep popping up, but as long as the individual in question never understands what they’re feeling, they’ll be able to continue relatively undisturbed. you know how in heist movies, the leader of the group will only tell each team member part of the plan so they can’t screw things up for everyone else if they get caught? it’s kind of like that.

this is how the captain appears to have operated in life AND in death, and it’s a relatively common experience for lgbtq people who’ve grown up in similar circumstances (aka with a lack of information and in an unfriendly-to-hostile environment), and accounts for how some people can even go on to get married and have children before realising that they’re gay and/or trans. 

personally, while i can now identify what were strong homo crushes all the way back to childhood, at the time i genuinely had no idea. there was the underlying sense that i probably shouldn't tell people how attached i was to these girls because i would seem weird, and that my feelings were stronger than the ones other people used to describe friendships, but like-like them in the way that other girls like-liked boys? no way! actually scratch that, it wasn't even a no way, because i had no idea that i even could. i even had my own havers, at least in terms of the emotional hold and devotion she got from me, except she treated me way less well than cap’s beau. snatches of the existence of lgbt people made it through the cone of silence, i definitely heard the words gay and lesbian, but my levels of informations mirrored those that the captain would have had: virtually none, beyond the idea that these words exist, some people are them, and that's not something that we support or think is okay, so let's just not speak about it. despite only attending religious schools for the first couple years of primary, until i got my own technology and social media accounts to explore lgbtq content on my own- option a out of the two catalysts for change- the possibility of me being gay was not at all on my radar. don’t even get me started on how long it took me to explore butchness and my overall gender, two things which now feel glaringly obvious. 

when shit starts to break down, you can also make the conscious choice to repress which can delay the eventual smashing down of the mental closet door for a time (essentially when the closet door starts to open, you just say ‘no thanks’ and shut it again by pointedly Not Thinking About It). in the abscence of identifying yourself by your attractions, it becomes quite common to identify with a lack- in my case, this meant becoming proud of how sensible and not boy crazy i was, and in the captain’s case, this means becoming proud of how sensible and not sensuous/wild (aka woman crazy) he was, identifying with his LACK of desire for women and partying (which, even in the 40s, involved the expectation of opposite sex romances and hook ups). i’m not saying that’s the only reason he’s a rule follower, but i think the contrast between About Last Night and Perfect Day pretty much support this. (the captain getting on his high horse about general party antics that he inherently felt excluded from because of underlying awareness of his difference & his tendency to project his regimented expectations of himself onto others, vs. joining in the reception party, awareness of how the environment supports difference in the form of clare and sam, and relaxing his own rules by dancing with men- the captain doesn’t mind a party when feels like he has a place there.)

so the captain was operating in a high demand, highly regulated environment (primarily the military, but also early 20th century England itself), with regimented roles, rules, and expectations. working on the assumption that he wouldn't have had out/disclosing lgbt friends, he would have had little to no exposure to lgbt identities, and what information he did receive would have been hushed and negatively geared. while my world started to open up when i started high school was allowed to have my own phone + instagram account, resulting in me realising something wasn't quite 'right' within a few years (making me a relatively early realiser compared to those who don't come out to themselves until adulthood), in life the captain never had that experience. he didn't receive the information he needed, his environment didn't grow less hostile. with the near-exception of havers related heartbreak, his well disciplined and lifelong method of repression never became destructive/exhaustive enough to permanently override the danger signals in his mind and allow him to put his feelings into words. neither of the most common catalysts for change happened for him, so he continued as usual, even after his death.

BUT, and here’s where we come to why this is actually great representation, arrival of mike and Alison represents the opening up of new world. for the first time, the captain is actively made aware of the fact that his environment is no longer hostile, and better than that, it’s affirming. he’s also getting access to positively geared information about lgbtq people and identities, so option a of the two catalysts for change is absolutely present, and resoundingly positive. 

the captain’s arc is also relatively unique as it acknowledges the oppressive nature of his environment, but actually focuses on the internal consequences, and the way that systems like those that the captain lived in succeed because they turn us into our own oppressors. for whatever reason, we repress ourseslves, and often can’t help it, and i find that the significance of the journey to overcome that is often overlooked in more mainstream queer media. perhaps it’s just not very cinematic, or it remains too confronting for cishet audiences, but ghosts manages to touch on it with a lovely amount of humour and hope. Jamie Babbit’s But I’m A Cheerleader is another favourite piece of queer media for the same reasons.

not only does it show this, but as the captain continues to get gayer and lean into some of his less conventional traits (like an interest in fashion and the wedding planning), it shows lgbt people who have been or are going through this that there CAN be a positive outcome. it takes a lot to unlearn all the things that have painted you as wrong, especially when a massive institution is desperate to continue doing so, but you can do it, you can be happy, and it's never too late. (i've been meaning to say that last point for ages for ages, but a mutual beat me to it here)

2. not just another coming out arc

i absolutely support the demand for queer stories that don’t center around coming out (it’s like shrodinger’s queer: if you’re not coming out on screen, do you really even exist?), but i don’t align with the criticisms that the captain should already be out. for the reasons mentioned above, the captain’s particular story is fairly different to the ‘young white teenager who mostly knows gay is fine, it’s just everyone else that’s got the problem, but have a unremarkably straight sounding soundtrack, a trauma porn romance, and a cishet saviour’ that we keep seeing. the captain’s ongoing journey with his sexuality emphasises the overaching theme of the show: recovering from trauma and humanity’s endless capacity for growth, and i think that’s worth showing over and over again until it stops being true.

additionally, while the captain’s journey regarding his gayness is a big part of his character and story, ghosts makes it clear that it’s not the ONLY part, and being gay is far from his ONLY characteristic or dramatic/comedic engine. the fact that i’m even having to congratulate ghosts for doing that really shows how much film and television is struggling huh.

while all queer media is, and should be, subject to criticism, i think if it helps even one person then it absolutely deserves to exist, and i can say i’ve found the captain’s journey to be the lgbt story i’ve found that’s closest to my own, which says a lot considering he’s a dead world war 2 soldier who hangs out with other ghosts including a slutty Tory, a georgian noblewoman, and a literal caveman. 

3. if captain gay, why he no have boyfriend???? 

another complaint that’s been circulating is that since the captain doesn’t, and likely won’t, have a boyfriend, that makes him Bad Representation because it follows the sad single gay trope. i kind of get the logic from this one, and a lot of it is up to personal interpretation, but part of me really enjoys the fact that the captain’s journey towards accepting himself is separated from having a relationship.

coming out is often paired with having romantic/sexual relationships (either as the reason or reward for doing so). my own struggle with repression didn't end the second that came out, and i still struggle with letting myself develop & acknowledge romantic feelings as a result of actively shutting them (and most other feelings in general) down for years, and statistics show that lgbtq youth in particular tend not to live out their 'teen years' until their twenties. by not giving cap a relationship straight away, ghosts separates the act of claiming identity and sexual orientation from finding a partner (two things which are, more often than not, separate), and also provides some very nice validation to folks who have yet to have the relationship they want, especially when lots of mainstream queer media is now jumping on the cishet media bandwagon of acting as if every person loses their virginity and has a life defining relationship at sixteen. it’s essentially a continuation of the earlier theme of “it’s never too late”, and who’s to say the captain won’t get a gay bear ghost boyfriend to go haunt nazis with??? people die all the time, it could happen.

(also, i think him and julian will have definitely shagged at least once. it was a low moment for both of them and they refuse to speak of it.)

lots of asexual/ace spectrum fans have come out to say how much they’ve loved being able to headcanon cap as ace, and while that’s not a headcanon i personally have, i think it’s brilliant that ace fans feel seen by his character- we’re all in this soup together babey (and sorry for cursing everyone still reading this with that cap/julian headcanon. i’m just a vessel)

4. “okay, but cap’s a GHOST- doesn’t that make this Bury Your Gays?”

this is a bit of a complex one, but i’m going to say no as a result of the following break down.

Bury Your Gays (BYG), aka the trope where lgbtq characters are consistently killed off (and often with a heavy dose of trauma, while cishet characters survive) is probably one of my least favourite lgbt media tropes. BYG has two main points:

1. the lgbt character is killed, thus removing them from story entirely- hence the use of the phrase ‘killed OFF’ (killed off of the show/film)

2. the character’s death reinforces the perception that lgbtq people’s lives must end in tragedy, instead of being long and fulfilling, or are inherently less valuable. bonus points if the character is killed in a hate crime or confesses same-gender love right before they die (that one implies that queer love genuinely has no future!)

not every death of an lgbtq character is bury your gays, and i personally feel that the captain is an example of an lgbt death that isn’t. 

first of all, while the captain is dead, so are the vast majority of characters in ghosts. the premise of the show means that death is not the end of the line for its characters- for most of them, it’s the only reason we get to see them on screen at all. as such, the captain being dead doesn’t remove him from the story, so point one is irrelevant.

at the time of posting, we don’t know how or why the captain died, but we've had nothing to suggest his death was in any way related to his latent sexuality, so his mysterious death doesn’t actively play into the supposedly inherent tragedy of queer lives, nor the supposedly lesser value. that’s as of right now- since we don’t know the circumstances of his death it’s a little tough to analyse properly. while the captain’s life absolutely features missed opportunities and it’s fair share of tragedy, hope and growth (which seems to be the theme of this post) abounds in equal measure. the captain may not be alive, but we DO get to see him growing and having a relatively happy existence, that for the most part seems to be getting even better as he learns to open up and be himself unapologetically- that doesn’t feel like BYG to me.

while writng this, it’s just occured to me that death really is a second chance for most of the ghosts, especially with the introduction of alison. from mary learning to read, to thomas finding modern music, they’ve all been given the chance explore things they never could have while they were alive, and hopefully grow enough to one day be sucked off move on.

in conclusion,

i love the captain very much and i hope his arc lives up to the standards it’s set so far. i don’t know where to put this in this post, but i’d alo like to say i LOVE how in Perfect Day, the captain wasn’t used as an educational experienced for fanny at all. i am very tired of people expecting me to be the walking talking homophobe educator and rehabilitator, so the fact that it’s alison and the other ghosts that call fanny out while the captain just gets to have fun with the wedding organisation made me very happy.

here’s a few other cap posts that i’ve done:

the captain’s arc if adam and the film crew stayed

a possible cap coming out 

the captain backstory headcanon

if you’ve read this far,

thank you!

also check out @alex-ghosts-corner , this post inspired me very much to write this

[inventors-fair]

Sunset over Stensia: Innistrad Multicolor Commentary

Firstly: Commentary is here to promote growth. We write it to help you improve. It’s highly recommended that you read comments on your work. It takes a lot of effort to write. The Discord workshop is here to help you as well. Thank you.

I think I might like Innistrad more than the average bear, and I’m not even a bear, certainly not a zombie bear like that one bloke. It came out recently after I had started thinking about actual competitive deck viability, and the power level was massive, and the DFCs were brand-new, and the original Innistrad set changed the way I thought about MTG fundamentally. And at the same time, like, I got it. I think. It made sense in ways that I hadn’t necessarily understood before. I’m still learning, and that ability to learn’s helped me over the past…jeez, twelve years?

And I have to wonder if that’s too much enfranchisement. But, I’m not the judge-jury-executioner-necromancer here, and I’m gonna go into things with a little more grace than usual. I hope. Still, there’s one major strength and one major weakness that I saw across the board, and this is open to discussion if anyone would like.

The major strength that I saw across the board was the tie between mechanics and flavor. A lot of cards used the way they worked to bring across the story they were telling, and in a way that highlighted the best parts of both aspects. I’ve been ranting about that for ages at this point so either people have always been awesome and I’ve just had high standards, or this contest just brought out the best of everyone because that’s what Innistrad does.

On the other hand, Innistrad’s signposts bring us to the major weakness, which is that the mechanical aspects were too unique, in a way. I felt that the strongest cards took the best parts of Innistradian tropes and worldbuilding and rolled with them, and other cards took them in a different direction, and, well… I hate to say it, but the return to the soul of Innistrad is strengthened in NOT pushing the envelope. “Don’t do new things” feels antithetical, but like, reinventing the wheel just makes for an awkwardly-pushed corpse cart.

As usual, judge picks are my personal way of denoting cards that did something specific right that I want to commend.

~

@arixordragc​ — Lich’s Portrait (JUDGE PICK)

On a personal note, I’m not a huge fan of this card being so good, and because I’m being persnickety, let me explain: I hear about UB on Innistrad, and I think of Zombies, but the thing is, that’s not entirely true. A majority of the shell is about them, but you got this dark alchemy, the evil twin, the weird spells about lake monsters and whatever, and my personal prejudices can’t ignore the fact that there’s an additional dark undercurrent about the gothic horror that resonates well in these colors on this world.

Mechanically, it’s pretty silly, but very, very interesting. Now, does that last ability prevent the game loss trigger? If not, it could be easy to work around, Lab Man style. The tutelage is really silly and I think that even though it’s hard to make this work super well without an instant combo like with that one bloody wall card, it feels neat enough to explore. You’ve captured that dark Dorian Gray essence well and we’ve only seen this once before on Alara of all places. Innistrad feels a bit better, doesn’t it? So commendable, splashy, strange, dark, and pretty good. I’m just picky about colors because lord knows what I would be if not petty.

~

@bread-into-toast​ — Sleepless Sentry (JUDGE PICK)

My main complaint about this card is that it’s common. My love of your original art and the flavor text is strong, but my nitpickiness is stronger. Oh, but you even made the hat look awesome… No, bad Abel, card time! Okay. So! The real question is whether a spirit and a zombie can come from the same person, and that’s lore that, quite frankly, I’m too exhausted to get into right now. I don’t think they can but I have no evidence. Anyway. The potential of getting two bodies, one with strength and one with power, off of a turn-2 chumpblock, means that I think this card should honestly be a 2-mana uncommon to fix these issues, especially with a sac outlet.

But like, you could make this a 1/2 and have it be either instead of both, maybe, and it would be slightly weaker, and that would be fine, because it limits options and forces choice without being too rough at common. Or would sac outlets make it too powerful? Either way, I made this a retrospective judge pick because thinking about it, this really is doing enough right that I kinda love it a lot. The silhouettes on the wall are more cute than useful but I love where you’re going, and also, knowing Innistrad as a world? That flavor text is bitter, funny, ironic, sad, dramatic, personable, and simple. Like, oh my lord, I care about this guy, genuinely. He cares about his other soldiers. They know what’s going to happen, or at least they have their worries, but he’s covering for them anyway… Man. I’m sad now. Good job.

~

@decayingbooks​ — Unnerving Silence

Mechanically, this card should be a rare because of how it changes those timing restrictions, IMO. The inability to cast creatures means that limited control decks are going to have a ball, maybe, perhaps, and constructed control decks want to jam four of these and ruin people’s days. I don’t mind that. It’s not great, but it’s fine. At rare it could even be four cards all things considered. Probably not five.

My frustrations come from the flavor text because, unfortunately, this has absolutely nothing to do with the archetypes of Innistrad. Is it spooky? Sure. Does the UB part of this world have anything to do with the woods? No, honestly. Kessig Wolf basically had this same flavor text, but with the added context of being about wolves. It’s fine to have UB representative of misty woods and a world of mysterious danger. Innistrad is not the place for that, and this card lacks the mesh that an understanding of Innistrad would have granted. Small note, but the flavor text is also a run-on sentence. Not poorly written, though, so kudos for that.

~

@deg99 — Tombstone Titan

I love this card mechanically. Are all those commas the right way to do effects like that? Sure, maybe that works, I believe it, I don’t care about being pedantic enough to dispute it. But yeah, the big three-drop with various disturbing and sacrificing and blocking and deathtouching and returning, that all checks out and I like it.

And in terms of Innistradian feel, honestly, I got nothin’ for the types presented here. Mechanically, I am fine with it, and I like it a lot, but elementals and elemental giants feel pretty darn out of place. It’s arguable! And I don’t mind that it’s here! I would not have said that this card belongs primarily on Innistrad without the context of it being a contest specifically about the plane. I’m honestly not sure where to put it. Darn it, it’s a great card, but it’s not jiving with me. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s so mechanically entrenched that the rest of its strengths outshine the potential horror-ness. It should feel more horrific than it does, maybe. I’m not sure what to say beyond that, except: don’t be discouraged by this. This is the wheel thing where it might’ve just been better to go with generic Innistrad names and types when the rest of the card can hold its own as what feels, to me, like an excellent bottom-up design.

~

@dimestoretajic​ — Thalia, Shield of Saint Traft

The blueness. Talk to me about the blueness. What about Thalia is blue? The cathars, the soldiers—where is the blue there? I was wondering about what was bothering me here, and I think it’s the fact that with the exception of Avacyn Restored, the OG Saint himself, and a couple cards from MID, blue’s never been pious on Innistrad, not to the degree presented here. Thalia is a slayer, a cathar(ish), a soldier, not…this. What’s blue about her? She’s a straightforward, community-minded, judgmental, conviction-filled soldier. What would it take for her to truly feel blue, then, in this world? What would it take for her to change her mind, and why in these colors, on this plane? If you’re going with the end of the EMN story then I get it but that’s not a permanent change.

I just feel that you made a change to a well-established legendary creature to stand out in the contest without considering the character of that creature in the context of the world in which she lives. If this was an original character, I would have loved this thing. Someone like Dennick or whatever his name was—that would’ve been fine. In a contest where were capturing the spirit of enfranchisement, this was a decision that I feel could have been executed better. The card’s fine, definitely doesn’t need that flavor text. All the goodwill I have for it doesn’t change the feelings about the character.

~

@ghoulcalculator64 — Mysterious Vendor // Due Collector (JUDGE PICK)

This card is mostly a judge pick due to peer pressure. Look, is it good? Yes. Do I want to play it? Can’t deny that no siree. Is it in-line with how demons and demon worship work on Innistrad? That’s…the question that makes me cross me arms and pout because I can’t PROVE that this wouldn’t work that way and that the fact is that the “human” on the front face is mostly there as a deceitful thing and everyone knows it’s a demon but ARGH. Okay, I’ll stop being a jerk, let’s talk about the card. It rocks, except that the flip-side should be “at the beginning of each” yadda yadda. So.

It’s great! Instant-speed gifting is silly and I love it, doing it in response to removal or combat damage is fun, giving tokens is awesome, the flavor text is pretty deec if a touch silly but that’s okay because this is a cackling-maniacal kind of card, and that “Citizen” is also silly but look, this isn’t pejorative. This card feels like an evil trope that’s aligned with Twisted Metal of all things, and I don’t mind that part. I still am not as convinced of the 100% Innistradian part, but the thing is that demons and devilish trickery have meshed but never fit strictly into the BR shell and yet this card doesn’t feel off. It’s like how vampires send the signals but this card builds the world. Take that for what ya will.

~

@gollumni​ — Grim Destiny

I want to get this card and I’m not quite there yet. It’s a fine card and honestly a great use of white’s tertiary ability of getting creature cards from the hand onto the battlefield… Wait, okay, is the destiny strictly related to the flashback? Flashback is one of those mechanics that honestly feels very hard to capture in a strictly flavorful sense with a couple of exceptions, but like… The question of who’s speaking in the flavor text is also called into question and yet I feel that there’s this sense of the creature entering the battlefield being aware of their demise. I do want to say: this card’s mechanically fine and you only need to change “It’s” to “Its” but aside from that this belongs in a premier cube. Which means ragging on flavor!

Rite of Oblivion is the obvious comparison. The thing is, exile has its place on Innistrad an is represented by this notion of oblivion, complete removal, that something is gone and not coming back and that that is unusual. A grave? Heck, anyone can dig up a gosh-darn grave. That’s something I’m a little weirded about. Like, I love Junji Ito too, but is a grave really the place for this? Hm, I’m asking myself if this particular word is throwing me off too much, but no, I’m nitpicking because I know you listen, and I do genuinely appreciate that, even if you don’t have to appreciate the nitpicking. So this raises more questions than it necessarily answers, but I like a) the way that the flashback points to the portent of destiny, b) the bitter realization of the creature that enters as being next in line, and c) the nod towards having higher power levels as a necessary aspect of premier sets. I can’t quite picture this card because of the BW disconnect between graveyards, death, and exile on Innistrad. Is that my problem? Yes. Am I going to get over it? When I’m dead.

~

@grornt​ — Hearth Guardian

If it wasn’t for the flavor text, this might’ve been a judge pick. Do you want me to talk about that first or second? Too bad, you’re reading this in the future and I’m writing this in the past, and neither one of us are Teferi (as far as I know). So yeah, no, a creature entering is summoned for a reason. This guy? The flavor text seems like he wants to save themself and/or remove themself from danger. Does that make sense? “I can’t go yet” is stay-outta-danger time and that’s sensible to me. So, the mechanics are based then around jumping into combat, beefing combatants, and keeping everyone safe on the battlefield temporarily, and…that doesn’t gel on any front, IMO. The clash is frustrating but the card’s excellent.

Wait, I just noticed that this is a spirit and not a human. Why? That has nothing to do with GW’s shell on Innistrad. I’m not sure if the green spirits there speak at all, and I know the white ones are definitely more ghosty than they are anything resembling, like, a benevolent protector who’s also a grandparent. Hm. This absolutely should have been a human soldier angle. I don’t know why you chose this aspect because it feels out of place based on what we know about the world and its expectations. Look, again, if this was a human, it would have been so much better, and I understand why this would have been fine on another world, but it’s just not Innistrad.

~

@helloijustreadyourpost​​ — Bitter Nihilist // Reborn Evangelist

I like a chunk of this card mechanically. The transformation is interesting, and having played a bit of AVR and whatnot I’ll concede that having white angels at a draftable level isn’t that off-base if you really make it work. Casting the spell and not having it enter is an interesting choice. Wouldn’t the ETB ability be a little easier to track? And then you’d count the angel among the lifegain from the transformation trigger? Either way, that aspect is nitpicking to make everything mesh just that tiny bit more in a draft environment. Liesa would be a great first-pick, but this isn’t for MID, I recognize that. And that’s okay!

…maybe it’s a little too real. I mean, the, uh, alcohol, the evangelism, even the hat—if someone took this exact card and edited the flavor text to turn it into Christian propaganda for a spoof set or parody, I wouldn’t be that surprised after the initial eyebrow-raising that would come from the fact that someone would do that in the first place. The mood is just…weird to me. It’s not evoking verisimilitude, thank goodness, but it feels so modern. I think, to shy away from that, having the front face be more generically broody could help. Man, is the back face genuine? Is just seeing an angel enough to change this person’s mind? It’s almost too good to be true, and I gotta wonder how used to seeing angels humans are these days. I’ve never got a good indication of that. You did an awesome job mechanically but I encourage you to veer into the fictional tropes more.

~

@hypexion​ — Moment of Sublime Quiet

Well, it’s a control finisher, an aggro draft finisher, and I’m working through my feelings on it. Big multicolor mythics with unbalanced pips are fine for Innistrad, probably, and the sense of ghosts rushing through is there, but honestly, that mechanical side really is pretty awesome and I think that’s the strength of this card. Only the ghosts own this place. But what is this place? I think that there’s a hard question you’ve brought and this is where the direction could be stronger.

See, I’m still uncertain as to what the goals of the spirits are. Some are disturbed, some are vengeful, some are wandering, some just have unlife before the Blessed Sleep… The weird thing about spirits on Innistrad is that despite their connectivity there’s gotta be something that’s stirring them together, and Drogskol Captain/Patrician Geist can only do so much to really help with that; both their “lord” abilities are for entirely different reasons. The question here is: what is the moment of quiet, and why does it boost the spirits, probably for a big attack? I like the hush and I like the sense of foreboding but I don’t get that through the name and direction. Lots of ends, but no reasons behind the means that are resonant enough to break that barrier. I’ll admit: you chose a hard piece here, and it’s a real thinker.

~

@i-am-the-one-who-wololoes​​ — Torment of Insanity

Yeppers, I played a lot of SOI, and I love madness as a mechanic. So what’s this card doing? I saw that you checked the oracle text so I won’t badger you about that because that’s entirely correct so kudos there. It’s got BB in the cost and RR in the ability which, you gotta admit, is asking a fair bit. Still, this feels like a constructed card, and that’s a compliment. People will ditch enchantments and lands and reanimated creatures and then their madness spells to this thing, then cheat out other madness spells that are important sorceries during their opponents’ turns, and that’s that, almost a Rakdos approach but with the darkness of Innistrad. If I could actually see what’s happening in this art, I might agree. I…gotta admit, I do not know. However, I can find the original art because you attributed it correctly so there we go!

I guess the eh-ness I’m feeling is because this card really does lean into the mechanical side and the flavor is good but it doesn’t carry the card alongside its mechanics. It feels that it belongs on Innistrad because the name and contest allows for it, but honestly? It almost feels like a Modern Horizons card, and I want that to be both a compliment and a warning. It’s making complex and thoughtful gameplay but at the cost of bottom-up gameplay detracting from rather than pairing with the flavor. This, I assume, was unintentional, because the madness matters, and there’s nothing to be done about that. You couldn’t have improved this card any more unless you wanted to adjust the color pips, and that can only be seen with gameplay. Take that into consideration: you did a great job on the card part of your card.

~

@partlycloudy-partlyfuckoff — Genealogical Gasp

This card’s multicolor cost checks out, and maybe the sacrifice implies vampires. Aside from that, I’m honestly a little frustrated at this card. If the name is implying some lateral-thinking logic, it’s not resonant enough to be easily understandable. Any amount of flavor text would have possible helped with making that more sensible. I think the sacrifice could have been an additional cost, and as a burn spell, this is costed a little low, especially in these aggressive colors.

I’m really, really trying to be gracious here without going all Gordon Ramsay. To keep the commentary relatively succinct: I’m going to hold you to the standards of your past submissions, and I’m aware there might be unknown factors, but for the time being, I do have higher expectations based on your previous cards. Genealogical Gasp isn’t the presentation we’re looking for.

~

@reaperfromtheabyss​ — Soulshock Apparatus

Time to start with the good: This card can potentially be super sexy. Discarding a flashback, madness, disturb, or delirium enabler is excellent and fits into both old and new Innistrad shells while remaining a modern version of colored artifact leaning that’s caused changes over the past year or so in MTG for the better. I personally really dislike phasing as an off-again on-again evergreen mechanic. I sincerely think it’s too confusing as a mechanic, but what the hell, it works here and I can’t disparage the fact that it does indeed work. Flavorfully it fits into the world of inventors and geistmages and fire-loving geniuses and alchemists so that’s totally fine and maniacal!

And then there’s the last line of the flavor text. “Now what to do with this information?” I think this is officially the point where people can throw up their hands (am I repeating myself? I said this last contest, oh god, time is going around in circles) and claim that I’m too picky. But I really can’t get over how limp that sentence is compared to the energy (no pun intended) of that first part. It could have been mysterious, or funny, or evil, or uncertain, but the mood is just not there. I want a payoff where there is none. Can it be improved? Yeah, fairly easily, plenty of ways. “Complaints about subject ethicacy have dramatically decreased.” “...and the return is just as electric.” “...much to the surprise of our local geists.” SOMEthing. It would take editing and workshopping, but argh, anything but what it is now. Everything else is awesome. Just don’t leave me hanging!

~

@shakeszx — Geistchill

I’m torn, very torn. On the one hand, this card and disturb do NOT get along with each other, but that’s not the worst because we can just imagine an environment where that’s something else in its place and spirits have a different slant. That’s fine! The question then becomes how many humans you’re running in the spirit deck, and, well, what kind of environment is this with what mechanics. Is this implying that there’s more of a human death piousness in the spirit tribal here? Or that there’s death triggers and this particular card is then utilizing the bodies later? The name itself is also kind of confusing to me. I’m not sure what the enchantment is supposed to represent. Maybe if it was a misty evening, or a sense of procession, y’know? There’s too many unknowns here.

By itself on a purely mechanical side, though, this is a really nice little piece of tech. I think the first ability should be a may ability, but the rest is awesome. Capitalize types and sentence/cost beginnings and you have an effective range of how to win the game by taking death and making fliers. Chump-blockers turn into evasion, white aggro and wizards become able to swing in with the ghost army, all that good stuff. This is a fantastic draft card if you have the right implied environment. I would need to know more, and the feeling of Innistrad is, in my opinion, definitely there in a manner that feels like home to me.

~

@snugz​ — Curse of the Fallen Archangel

Well this is cruel and unusual and takes a lot to think about. The only issue is that this card is absolutely, positively, massively unfair. Without guaranteed enchantment removal, the cursed player only needs one of these attached to them and they’re screwed. “You have one curse attached to you? Okay, now you can’t tun the game unless you have 1 life.” I can’t think of a more frustrating way to guarantee a rage-quit, because this changes every decision in such a way that’s puts so much on the cursed player’s head. Requiring them to calculate how to win the game at one life is awful enough without the implication, as I read in the post, that there are more curses and enchantments in this set. But this particular enchantment works best on its own, so why would you play any others?

I think I kind of get what you’re going for in the flavor, or at least I’m trying to. Sort of. But it’s a stretch and you know what, I’m going to need this explained to me. Is the flavor text implying that the prayers are fruitless? What exactly has the “fallen archangel” cursed the bearer with? Is that praying for death? That’s more torturous, and less of this prolonged and awful immortality-of-my-enemies here. If there’s something I’m not getting then I’m open to hearing it, but for the moment, I’m not sure how you’re working this out.

~

@stellarlight13​ — Librarian’s Consultation

“Surveil X, then draw a card, where X is the amount of mana spent to cast this spell. Spell you cast from your graveyard with a disturb ability cost (1) less to cast this turn for each card with disturb put into your graveyard from your library this way.” Is that the correct wording? I can check with a judge later. Anyway, despite surveil not being in this set, the rest of this kind of makes sense. I like this notion of spirits and the strength to come back being alleviated somehow, like something is re-disturbing them but in a positive manner.

The only question is what on earth the flavor is doing. Does Kaya, the assassin, need books on how to kill vampires? Is there a library that carries this information? What are these geists doing in a library with the homunculi, and what is this original character doing? Like, homunculi are scavengers for stitchers, not library assistants. And what is Kaya, the geist slayer, doing while not killing geists? This card feels like it belongs on the Strixhaven campus, not Innistrad. I’m not sure what the goal was here, but it’s far removed from the notions of what a card set here should be. The mechanics are fine enough if you remove the surveil an tweak to oracle.

~

@tentacledarmageddon​ — Leap of Loyalty

As an experiment last Friday, I read this card aloud to a friend and asked what they thought the rarity, mana cost, and flashback cost should be based on the ability. They responded: “1W mana cost, 2U flashback cost… Common.” And that’s basically exactly how I felt as well. This card is not rare, and I’m not sure where that idea came from that it should be. Is it an okay combat trick? Yeah, I’ll give it that. The flashback cost probably should be booster a touch, but that’s all, and then you have a card that’s perfectly serviceable.

What’s the flavor text doing? Saving Grasp is somewhat reasonable for inspiration, but it’s not a precedent necessarily and this card isn’t saying “Innistrad” to me. Honestly? It feels like a card from AFR, and I don’t want that to be either pejorative or complimentary. It’s decidedly unspecific. With the context of the world around it there could be some other art direction or specific instance where this card could be okay, but even then, this sentence isn’t structured in a way that begets the plane or even the idea it’s trying to reach. If this is trying to get a feeling of flashback as love’s memory, then that’s to the detriment of the card as a whole. I love semicolons and this semicolon absolutely needs to go. Let’s circle back before I get unnecessarily heated. I think to improve your approach to this card, it would have been helpful to determine what a flashback card could look like and how it could be resonate without being strictly 1:1 tied, and what the strengths of those types of cards are. Innistrad has its tropes and its specificity. Where can we go from those anchors? 

~

@wolkemesser​ — The House on the Fen

Okay, broad concepts, then nitpicks, last card. Alright? Alright. I don’t mind this card. It’s a strong spirit synergy card that is good as a legendary enchantment at this cost. That’s totally fine. Flavor text should be significantly shortened. “A safe haven, if you don’t mind the chill.” I dunno, something along those lines. Can it maybe be a hotel? That could be cool, like Hostile Hostel but a specific historical place. ANYWAY, nitpicks:

A creature attacking you is way too strong. The trigger should be “Whenever an opponent attacks you or a planeswalker you control, choose one —” and yeah, that’s the modern wording, and I don’t like it, but that’s how the corpse crumbles.

First ability is fine. Is “the attacking player” how things go? Yeah, should be. That’s fine, a little tax.

Second ability should read: “Until end of turn, whenever a creature becomes blocked by a Spirit, tap that creature and it doesn’t untap during its controller’s next untap step.” Lots little fixes.

“GET +1/+1.” Not “gain.” Gaining is for abilities.

…you sure like modal cards, huh? This is just something I’ve noticed, not a complaint or a tease, it’s just that this is like the second or third modal card I remember judging. Anyway, small pieces, great Innistrad feel, consider this a victory, but. BUT. Wolkemesser? You reading this? Take your time. Get everything ironed out, everything, before you submit. You got strong ideas. But you gotta slow your roll.

~

Enjoy the blessed sleep, nerds.

Your departed chaplain, @abelzumi​

[milkacchan]

Request for anon: Omegaverse prompt 10 with omega Midorya and Alpha reader

Prompt 10= You made.....a nest...for us?

Midoriya had been especially grumpy today. You weren't sure why, you couldn't get it out of him. He wouldn't tell you what was bothering you so much.

It didnt do much for your Alpha side, it made you grumpy. Your omega was upset and he wouldn't tell you why which meant you couldn't do anything about it! And fuck, you wanted to do something about it, you hated seeing him like that.

You stared at him from across the room, nibbling at your lunch. You weren't very hungry anymore, your appetite ruined by your mind racing. Maybe he just needed space- maybe he just needed some breathing room.

You were too clingy. Too Alpha. You were smothering him, that's it. Simple solution, you'd get him flowers and chocolate and when he was ready you'd give them to him- but that wouldn't work either. That'd still be too smothering. Still too fucking Alpha.

Was it the way you spoke? Maybe your scent- did he not like it anymore- he thought it was too overwhelming. That had to be it.

Maybe it wasn't about you- maybe it was about something else and you were just making it about you and taking away from your in need omega, but maybe THAT was it. That you always made it about you-

You growled, low and quiet, looking down.

"What's your fuckin damage shit brain?" Bakugou mumbled, looking up at you with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Nothing, nothing."

"That's a fucking lie."

"Its not a fucking lie." You bit back, harsher than you intended.

He rolled his eyes, unaffected by your tone of voice. "I can smell it. It's a lie."

You paused, looking at your shoes again and kicking the ground. Should you tell him? "Later." You mumbled.

Kirishima glanced at you. "Why can't you tell us here?"

"Too many people. It's not a big deal. Don't worry about it."

"Fine. But you're telling me later. You don't have a choice. It's pathetic seeing you pout."

"Aww Katsu you care." You put a hand to your chest, dramatically leaning foward. "I knew it. All these years- secretly-"

"Fuck off that's not what I meant," The blonde huffed, crossing his arms and sending a sharp kick to your shin. You groaned.

"We all speak emotionally constipated, 'mega. You can't fool us." Kirishima flicked his ear. "And say sorry."

Katsukis face flushed red and you grinned along with Kirishima.

"Got em." You teased, sticking out your tongue.

"Shut the fuck up."

You looked at the two as they bickered- well more Katsuki elbowing and threatening Kirishima while Kiri just smiled lovingly.

Your best friends- two of them anyway, the rest were probably still getting lunch, or walking around. Relaxing before sparrs next period. You packed away your lunch, slipping it into your bag and then leaning your head against the wall behind you, trying to think of something else. Trying to calm the frustration that threatened to bubble up.

You were Katsukis favorite sparring partner. Mostly because you never took it easy on him- you'd go all out, regardless of the fact that he was an omega. And that made for good training sessions. It tended to be vice versa as well, Katsuki was your favorite sparr partner. You could say what you wanted- go all out and keep going.

So, when buddies were called out, and you two were not sparring together- you made the silent agreement to stay after class hours and sparr. He nodded in your direction you looked back at Aizawa, waiting patiently for him to dismiss the class to begin training.

You weren't very interested in what he had to say, not really. You were itching to get moving, your temper no better than it had been earlier. But you needed to stay calm. You couldn't get carried away with todays current partners. You wouldn't.

When he dismissed you, you'd wish good luck to your omega and get situated with tokoyami. You nodded to yourself- approving your mental plans as you heard the clap to get started.

"Good luck 'Zuku." You smiled gently at him.

He looked at you, only giving you a nod, to which you inwardly groaned. You were upset now. What the fuck had you done that was so bad? You shook your head- the exchange hadn't gone unnoticed by Katsuki.

"You ready?" Tokoyami looked at you as you stepped into your training space.

"Whenever you are." You nodded to him and he nodded back.

"Good luck."

"You too." You grinned, getting ready.

Training dragged on. And on. And on.

You lost to Tokoyami- you were so close to the win- so close you could taste it, but dark shadow ripped the victory from your hands with little trouble and grinned at your loss.

Next was Kaminari, poor boy thought he had it. Went straight for his big attack but was sorely mistaken. He thought you could no longer redirect your attacks- figuring that this would take you out, only it didn't. It backfired and he was hit instead. He was out of commission in minutes.

Then was Momo, and she was close to victory. She's smarter than you, her strategies work well- but you were competitive and you were pissed, so with that combo, the unfortunate Alpha didn't stand a chance.

Last but not least- Shouto. Shouto Todoroki had a similar power to yours. He could use ice and fire. You, could use all the elements around you. Air, fire, earth, water- you know how it goes. Both you and Todoroki were strong- because of this fact- it felt like the fight lasted ages, but you still lost. He caught you off guard and used that to his advantage, projecting one last attack before it was over. You wiped the blood from your cheek and looked up at him. He held out a hand and you thankfully took it.

You avoided walking towards the front of the group, towards where Izuku was, as Aizawa called you all together, instead falling back to where Kirishima and Bakugou were. His daily class speech before he let everyone go.

"Why aren't you with pip squeak?" Bakugou whispered, keeping his eyes on Aizawa. The last thing he wanted was to be yelled at. He didn't have the patience for that.

"Shut up." You grumbled.

"You two in a fight?"

"No. Now shut up. We're gonna get in trouble." You jabbed him in the side and he glared at you but ultimately shut up.

"Any questions?" Aizawa looked around. "All right then, class dismissed."

You and Katsuki turned, walking back into the ring. You ignored that fact that Izuku had just left- you'd deal with it later. However deal with it went- you weren't sure exactly how you'd deal with it to be honest. But right know you didn't care.

"I'm not going easy on you just because you're having a rough day." Katsuki growled.

"I don't want you too. Use everything in your power to try to pummel me."

"Tap out if you need to."

"I won't." You shed yourself of your shirt, leaving you in just a sports bra. You readied yourself and so did he. The two of you stood still for a few moments, before he charged. You were counting on his, stepping to the left and lifting a column of earth. It hit him in the stomach and sent him flying back.

"Brat!"

"Watch out, dummy!"

Bakugou had never been scared of you. You'd never acted particularly like an Alpha, at least not like an aggressive one. You'd always had the urge to provide. You smelled nice, not like some of the others who's scent was so overwhelming he felt sick- he never had a reason to be scared of you. But the look in your eyes and the way you charged at him, made his stomach sink and his heart fumble. His fight or flight kicked in, he caught your head, stopping your movement and slammed you into the ground.

He hadn't meant to, not hard- but there was something seriously wrong. You used two fingers to tap his wrist twice. Tap out.

"Fuck- I'm- I didn't mean to go that hard-"

"I told you too. No big deal." You sat up, leaning towards against your knees. The left side of your face was bleeding. Your cheek bone was bruised pretty bad. You were both beat up pretty bad, which would probably result in a scolding from respective partners.

"What's your problem. You went pretty hard today. You stink."

"Well we were just working out-"

"No. You stink." He sat next to you, ignoring the Alpha smell that was currently flooding the room. It was sour and heavy, not your usual smell. And he fucking hated it. It was overwhelming.

"Oh." You sighed. "Katsuki do you think I'm a bad Alpha?"

His gaze snapped to you. "Absolutely not. Who the fuck gave you that idea? Deku?"

"No. Just..answer."

"No, I already said no. You're not my Alpha, but even with my bullshit as kids, you were always there. Before we even presented. You're not a bad Alpha."

You nodded slightly.

"And I've seen the way you take care of fucking Deku. If he's got a problem with you, that's all him." He huffed and stood up. "C'mon. I'm tired and I promised shitty hair head after school."

"Katsuki." You took a deep breath. "PLEASE eat shit and die."

"You wish. You're just jealous that he gets head and you don't."

"Please! You like giving head because of me."

"Oh fuck off."

The warm water cascading down your back felt like heaven. You felt your muscles ease and the sour smell of stress dull. After today, this was what you sorely needed. It was calm, refreshing and you were thankful for the time alone. Steam rose and cleared your nose and throat, the headache that had started to build slipped away. You tilted your head back, letting the water drown your hair in warmth. The conditioner washed out in small cream bubbles slipping down your back. You ran your hands through your hair until you were sure at least the majority was gone.

You felt fresh now as you turned off the water. Shaved and clean.

You grabbed a towel and wrapped your hair. It felt tight in the wrap. You grabbed a second one and dried your body off, wrapping the towel around you body. It was small, almost too small, not even fully covering your ass. You stepped out, closing the door behind you. You dried off again before slipping into your clothes. You discarded both towels into the bin by the door and picked up your phone from the shelf. There were multiple texts from Izuku, it made your heart lurch.

'Can you come to my room? Please? I have something to show you'

'Baby? You there?'

'I'm sorry for making you upset today but I really need you to come here'

'Please'

Fuck- these were all from at least an hour ago. And you'd missed them. You knew he'd probably be crying by now, thinking he fucked something up when he really didn't. There was a sharp pain in your chest and made you wince. You needed to get your your omega. You shoved your phone in your back pocket and walked out if the room before breaking into a jog to get to his dorm.

You stopped in front of the door and gently knocked. "Zuku, baby you there?"

Nothing. No answer- almost nothing. You caught the small sniffle from the other side.

"'Mega? Can I come in?" You leaned your forehead against the door, listening carefully. You heard shuffling on the other side, something fell over but the footsteps that led to the door told you it was okay. It clicked open and you were met with his emerald eyes.

"Hey.." he whispered, looking at you.

"I'm sorry love, I was in the shower. And before that I was training with bakugou."

His nose scrunched at the mention of his blonde friend. He was always hit with a twinge if jealousy when the two of you practiced alone. Not that he had a right to- he knew this, especially because he respected Bakugou, genuinely. "That's okay.." he mumbled. "You're all bruised. You're face-"

"Training went pretty hard, but I'm okay."

He slipped out of his room, the door inching shut behind him. He gently touched the bruise, frowning when you flinched. "Babe..." he whined. He leaned up to press a gentle kiss to it. "You have to be careful."

"What's wrong? What's got you all riled up today?" Your voice was soft, filled with concern, practically dripping with it. He stepped back, not missing the fear that flashed in your eyes that he'd leave when he did. He opened the door farther so you could step in. You did so without hesitation, once inside, cupping his cheeks and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He practically melted into your touch. God- all he really wanted was you, your touch, your comfort, your voice- you. "You're warm. You starting heat early?"

He nodded. "Yeah- I start in 2 days." He mumbled, holding your hand to his cheek. Your hands were cold in contrast to his warm skin. It felt nice.

So that's what it was- he wasn't mad at you at all. He was just stressing over his heat- especially if it was starting early. Most likely, his suppressants wore off. He and his mother both had a high fertility rate, it made him a perfect bearer. It ran in the Midoryia family. "Stressing out?"

Izuku nodded again. "But I built us a nest."

You froze, eyes widened as your heart rate increased. You looked behind you and there it was, in all its glory. A nest big enough for 2, adorned in pillows, blankets, and clothing he'd stolen from you in the year you'd been dating. He even had the 2 stuffed animals you'd gotten him. You looked back at your boyfriend, eyes glowing. "You made...a nest...for us?"

"I hop-hope it's okay. I couldn't get it right and it was frustrating me and I got stressed out. I had take some stuff from your dorm, I'm sorry about that- but I really want you to spend this head with me because I love you and I just want you there-" he rambled, his eyes starting to water. He always did get emotional in the few days leading up to his heat. It was a dead give away. Honestly you were a bit ticked off at yourself for panicking before analyzing the situation completely.

"You want me with you?"

"Yeah, I do." He took you hand and led you towards the nest. He took a step inside it, looking at you. You'd stopped outside it, hesitant to step in too. This was a big mile stone and- "Alpha, come." He tugged your arm gently and you were putty. You stepped in. The padding on the floor made it soft, it wouldn't hurt either of you long term. He could sleep curled up or ride your thigh without the worries of a sore body- at least from the floor.

"There wasnt enough room on the bed." He muttered, sitting down, pulling you to follow his actions. You sat next to him and took his hips, leading them to straddle over your legs. You ran your hands up his thighs, squeezing them gently.

"That's okay. Your nest is so pretty, you did such a good job baby."

"You think so? You like it?" His Omega was taking over, his need to please, his need for you. You could see that much.

"I love it." You hummed, kissing his cheek, moving down to his jaw then his neck. You kissed the supple flesh before breathing in his scent. You ran your nose against the swollen gland in his neck and he moaned softly. He always liked it when the two of you were scenting. He adored it when you smelled like him, telling everyone around you that you were his. He was yours.

"I already- I already have the collar," he breathed, closing his eyes. "I'll leave the key with Tenya until its over."

"Sounds good. You're sure you want me there?"

"I'm sure." He whispered, leaning down to connect his lips with yours.

[heyitsani]

Loving You is a Losing Game Chapter 2

Word Count: 4909

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Major Character Death (but not until the last chapter)

Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson

Summary: Dick is forced to face his situation and discovers that perhaps his initial assumptions weren't as accurate as he had thought.

Notes: Thanks to Mel for helping me sort out some of the logistics of this chapter and helping me to decide to cut it in half and make the story four chapters instead of three. Next chapter is mostly written, so I'll probably update in the next week or so.

You can also read it on AO3 here

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

Dick couldn’t be sure how long he had been sitting on the bed when a knock came on the door and he found himself debating if he should answer it or not.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with the man who had basically imprisoned him here.  Though imprisoned was a bit of a stretch since Dick had technically volunteered to be here in place of Bruce.  But it wasn’t like he wanted to be here.  He had just been trying to save Bruce.

The knock sounded again, breaking his musings.

“Sir?”  A quiet voice came through the door, uncertain and definitely not the man who had caused all of this.  Frowning at the thought of there being others possibly in the same position, Dick slipped off the bed and hurried over to open the door.  The man standing there wasn’t really what he was expecting.  Although, if he were honest, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting.  But a tall, bean pole skinny man with windswept brown hair and an almost golden tone to his skin was not it.  “Ah, there you are!” 

Dick stepped aside as the man pushed his way into the room, a pile of various clothing items hanging over one arm and a woman with shiny black curls and beautiful sepia colored skin trailing close behind him.  She spared Dick a glance with a shy smile before hurrying over to place the tray she was carrying down on one of the end tables.

“I’m sorry, who are you both?”  Dick questioned, looking between the two people from his spot still near the open door.  They didn’t seem to be in distress and that confused him even more.  They wanted to be here?  Did they know what here was?

The pair exchanged a glance before the woman stepped forward and held out a hand.  “Kassandra,” she offered, an almost familiar smile on her face.  There was something he recognized, but he couldn’t place his finger on it.  Even still, he reached forward and shook her offered hand before doing the same with the man.  “That’s Wade and we’re here to help you with getting ready for dinner and acclimated to the castle.”

Castle.  Someone had actually said the word and Dick just didn’t know what to make of that.  Or make of the two people standing in front of him.  They were…staff?  He wasn’t sure he was getting this right.

“You’re staff?”

Wade laughed and went abut sorting through the clothes, Kassandra just shook her head at the man before looking at Dick.  “We are here because we have to be,” she said.  But that didn’t make anymore sense to him.  “You won’t find the answers you’re seeking from anyone within these walls.  What holds you here, holds all of us here.”

So the magic had trapped them.  But was he really trapped?  He hadn’t tried to leave but maybe only the shadow man had the power to say who could go.  He had let Bruce leave after all.  “This situation is a bit out of my paygrade,” he admitted, glancing over at Wade as he muttered to himself over a shirt and pant combo.  “You won’t need those.  I’m not going to dinner.”

“What?”  Wade gasped, wide eyes looking at Dick in surprise.  “But…you have to.”

“No, I don’t.  He may be keeping me prisoner here, but he doesn’t own me.”  He didn’t miss the concerned look Wade sent in Kassandra’s direction, but he didn’t bother looking over at her.  He wasn’t going to change his mind.  The man, thing, whatever he was, was keeping him here against his will.  Why on earth would he willingly join him for a meal?

A knock on the door interrupted anything that might have been said between the three of them and Kassandra opened the door to reveal a man with black hair, pale skin, and wise eyes the color of whiskey.  It was almost unnerving to look him directly in the eye, as if he had lived through more life than anyone had any right to.  “Dinner is ready,” the man said, looking over Dick with a frown.  “But you’re obviously not.  Wade?”

“Don’t blame me, Ryan!  I’m trying.”

“It doesn’t fucking look like it.  He’s still in the suit.”

“I’m not the problem here.  He is!”

The man, Ryan apparently, looked over at Dick and raised an eyebrow so Dick shrugged and crossed his arms defiantly over his chest.  “He’s waiting.”

“He can keep waiting.  I’m not going.”  That didn’t seem to be the right thing to say because Ryan started glowering at him and Dick almost wanted to shrink away from the man.  But he held his ground.  “He doesn’t own me; I don’t have to do what he demands.  Not when I’m being held here against my will.”

Ryan stared at him for another moment before he left the room without saying anything else.  Dick frowned and looked over to see Kassandra and Wade exchanging a look he didn’t recognize.  But after a moment, Wade turned to him with a smile but grave eyes.  He saw Kassandra leave the room out of the corner of his eye and wondered who would break the news to the shadow man.

“At least get out of the suit, Nightwing,” Wade gestured to a few items laid out on the bed that were more casual than he had been looking at for the actual dinner.  

“Dick,” he said, giving Wade a shrug when he looked over surprised.  “You’ve already seen my face.  I don’t know if I’ll ever get out of here so there’s no point in hiding my real name.”  The man nodded and gestured over to the changing partition in the corner of the room.  So Dick grabbed the clothes and headed over, quickly removing the suit and changing into the soft, grey joggers and black t-shirt.  He took a few extra moments to fold up his suit before he reemerged, trying to reconcile himself with his current situation.

Everything felt so surreal, and he was struggling to accept that he wasn’t going to be leaving this place any time soon.  But he had to have faith that Bruce would get him out.  He would call on Damian and Tim and they would find a way.  He had to trust them.  They wouldn’t stop until they managed it.

Taking a deep breath, Dick finally emerged from behind the screen and set his suit and escrimas on the bed.  When Wade went to pick them up, Dick held up a hand to stop him.  “I’d feel better keeping them near.”  Wade nodded silently before gathering the other items and hanging them in the wardrobe off to the side.  “So-”  Dick started, but was cut off by a harsh knock to the door.

“I thought I said I expected you to join me for dinner?!”  It was only because of his years of training that Dick managed not to flinch and step back at the banging and the angry sound of the man’s voice coming through the door.

Glancing at Wade, who was watching him with a closed-off expression, Dick tried to think of what to do.  Did he try and diffuse the situation or did he ignore it?   But wasn’t it enough that this man had imprisoned him?  Wasn’t it enough that Dick had given up his whole life to save his mentor and father figure?  He wanted to ask him as much.  “I’m not eating with you,” he called out instead.  His fucking temper, it really would be the death of him one day.

And from the almost feral sounding growl on the other side of the door, that day might be today.  “He could hear some muffled talking on the other side but he couldn’t quite make it out.  It sounded feminine but not melodic in the way Kassandra’s voice had sounded.

“Please try to control your temper.”  Now that voice he recognized as Ryan’s.  Curious.

There was another growl before a moment of silence and Dick could practically see the shadow man trying to reign himself in.  It just served to piss Dick off more.  Crossing his arms over his chest, he glared over at Wade who was still watching him.  “Will you come out and join me for dinner?”  The voice growled out, low and barely controlled.

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”  Dick knew his stubbornness was hard to compete with, but he had a feeling that this man’s own will could hold its own.

But apparently the man’s temper was stronger because there was another loud bang, as if a fist hit the door with more power than it should have, making Dick actually step back this time.  “FINE!”  The man yelled; anger palpable through the door.  “If he doesn’t eat with me, then he doesn’t leave the room at all!  You want this to be a prison?  You got your wish!”

There was another growled comment that Dick couldn’t make out before silence.  And dread.  If there was one thing Dick couldn’t handle well, it was confinement.  He needed space, freedom to move and fly.  Glancing around the room, he did his best to control the bubbling panic of being confined to this room despite its spacious size.

“Dick?”  Looking over at Wade, he saw the man looking at him almost concerned.  “Would it be so bad to eat a meal with him?  He’s really not as bad as this is making him seem.  You should get to know him like we have.”

But the panic flared back up to anger and Dick clenched his fists.  “I don’t want to get to know him.  I don’t want anything to do with him.”  He watched Wade sigh, shoulders drooping before he nodded and headed for the door.

“I’ll see about getting you a tray of food.”  Dick clenched his jaw to keep from snapping at Wade, since it wasn’t exactly his fault, and watched the man leave. 

Once again leaving Dick alone in his lavish cell.

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

It had been a few weeks of the most boring routine Dick had ever been exposed to and he was honestly unsure of how he was going to keep this up.  He would wake, chat with whoever brought his breakfast to him for a bit before he was left alone until it was time for lunch.  Then he would get some company for longer than just a meal before he was left to eat dinner alone and spend the remainder of the night either reading whatever book he found lying around or doing some basic workouts to try and keep his mind sane.

Sighing at the knock on his door, Dick knew it was his dinner tray and another round of loneliness.  He briefly wondered if he could convince whoever it was to stay.  But he knew it would be folly since Wade had made it clear everyone trapped there ate dinner together.

So unless he wanted to give into the man’s demands, Dick was stuck alone yet again.

Pulling open the door, Dick gave a half smile to Dana.  He had met her the day after his arrival and had immediately felt something.  Bits of each person he had come into contact with had felt familiar.  Kassandra’s smile, Ryan’s eyes, and Wade’s energy.  But Dana, there was too much to pinpoint the exact familiarity.  It reminded him so much of Donna, he had struggled to think of her as anyone else.

But the blonde hair and sea green eyes were far from the Donna he knew and missed, so he had pushed that thought from his mind.

“You can still join us,” Dana said as she set the tray down and turned to face him, hands on her hips.  But Dick was too stubborn to give in now.  He wouldn’t let the shadow man win.  Not when this was the last thing in his control.  He watched Dana sigh in resignation as Dick refused to respond.  “I’ll send Wade to keep you company after dinner.  You seem like you could use it.”

“Thank you,” he replied, ignoring the painful ache in his chest as she looked at him in a way Donna had so many times.  Like she could see straight through to his very core.  With a shake of her head and another sigh, she slipped out of the room and left Dick to his own devices again.

Glancing over at the familiar tray sitting on the bed, he dropped down next to it, falling backwards so he could look up at the canopy of the bed as he kicked his legs against the bedframe.  He could just leave the room on his own.  He had been thinking about it since the very first week and he knew that while the door was unlocked, he was probably pushing his luck if he just left.

But what made the shadow man aspire such loyalty from everyone stuck there?  Especially when he treated Dick like a prisoner and all of them were allowed to wander around freely?  What was special about Dick?  Or what was special about them?

“Ugh,” he groaned, sitting up and grabbing a piece of fruit to chew on as he hopped off the bed and moved over to the window seat.  But the view wasn’t anything special.  The same wall of magic sizzling in the distance, old trees swaying in the wind that Dick was pretty certain was artificial given the wall of magic.

But he hadn’t been outside since the day he had arrived, he wouldn’t know if it were real or fake.  One thing he did know, the weather seemed to mostly emulate what he knew Gotham would be experiencing this time of year.  Except there was no thick layer of smog and haze resting over the grounds.  It was as though the magic had shielded them all from the fumes of Gotham.

He pictured Damian and Tim on the other side of the wall, trying to find a way to bring it down while they bickered as they always did.  Despite Dick’s best efforts, he couldn’t get the pair to get along, not even begging them had helped.  And Bruce had given up long before Dick had realized it was a pointless effort.  But right then, Dick would give anything to see them again, to listen to them insult each other and eventually come to blows.  What he wouldn’t give to have to separate them before Bruce used that tone on them, bringing his soldiers to heel. 

Dick hated that voice.

He missed that voice.

Turning away from the window, he went back to the waiting tray of food and began working his way through the various items that had been placed on it.  He was about halfway through when a knock came on the door, but the person didn’t bother waiting for him and opened it without invitation.

“I heard you are in desperate need of some company,” Wade teased as he walked in, closely followed by Ryan.  Dick watched Wade bound in casually, but Ryan’s eyes scanned the room as if he wanted to be sure everything was in order before landing on Dick with a critical glance as he entered.  “We have come to entertain.  Do a dance, Ryan.”

The black-haired man gave Wade a flat look before dropping into the armchair in the corner of the room.  He kept a penetrating look on Dick and Dick almost squirmed under it.  Almost.  Instead, he looked back to Wade and tried to ignore the man in the corner.

“Actually…”  Dick started, leaning forward to really look at Wade.  He was the one Dick knew he could probably convince to let him wander around.  “You said the warden of my prison keeps to himself after dinner, right?”  Wade narrowed his eyes but nodded and Dick flashed a charming smile.  “So it’d be safe for you to show me around then, right?  No chance of him running into us?”

“No.”  Ryan’s voice was flat and final, but Dick didn’t even look at him.

“What do you say?  Show me all the places that make this place less of a prison and more of a home you all seem to have made it.”  Wade looked hesitant, glancing over at Ryan with a look Dick couldn’t read.

But he knew he was winning.  He knew that Ryan would give in and join them

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

Dick watched Wade and Ryan keep moving forward, completely oblivious to the fact that he was no longer following behind them.  He shouldn’t have been too surprised, considering the bickering the pair of them seemed intent on doing any time they were near each other.

But Dick took advantage of it and used all his stealth skills to head up the stairs toward the forbidden wing of the castle.  His curiosity burning brightly, thanks to all the training Bruce had put him through.  The need to know always burned through him when people refused to tell him things.  And usually, he could mind his own business, ignoring the instinct, but he couldn’t this time.  He needed to know.  Especially since it might have an answer as to what was happening within the magical barrier.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Dick looked both directions down the hall to figure out which way he should go.  Noticing the rug to the right seemed to have a bit more of a worn look to it, he headed that direction.  The hall was lined with the similar statues and pictures that the previous areas he had seen were, but the mood of the wing seemed to get darker and darker the further he went down it. 

And when he finally reached the end where a single door stood closed, Dick gave one last glance behind him before testing the knob to see if it was unlocked.  He was a little surprised with how adamant everyone was about staying away that he found the door unlocked.

And for the first time since he had decided to do this, Dick found himself hesitating.

Everything about this decision felt wrong but he could practically hear Bruce in his mind telling him to assess the situation fully, leave no corner unsearched.  He had to know.  He had to be aware.

So he took a deep breath and carefully entered the dark room.  The air was cold thanks to an open pair of French doors that led to a balcony, but Dick felt chilled by more than the night air.  The room was in complete shambles, various pieces of furniture strewn about the room in different states of destruction. 

Running his hand along a old writing desk that had been cracked down the middle, Dick frowned and tried to piece what he was seeing with a need to keep it secret.  There had to be something there.  There had to be.

Then a glowing green light caught his attention. 

Just to the side of the open French doors was a table with a basin full of green liquid that had an ethereal glow to it.  The glow pulled Dick closer, drawing him like a moth to the flame.  And when he reached the table, he saw that next to the bowl was a curious object.

A watch resting on a stand, covered by a glass case.

A watch that reminded him of something he had seen before.

Removing the glass case from around the watch, Dick set it aside and looked at the watch more closely.  “Impossible,” Dick whispered, thinking how much it reminded him of Thomas Wayne’s watch that he had seen Bruce with so many times growing up.  But as far as Dick knew, that watch had been lost.

Reaching out a hand to pick up the watch a shadow formed in front of him, startling him into jerking back and away from the table.

“Why did you come here?”  The shadow growled as he lifted the case to cover the watch again, glaring at Dick as he stepped between him and the table holding the watch and basin.

“I’m sorry,” Dick said, holding his hands up to placate the man.  “I didn’t mean any harm.”  But that didn’t seem to be the right thing to say because the shadow shifted and the man revealed himself, glare fierce, glowing green like the liquid in the basin, and hatred burning bright.

“I warned you never to come here!”  He stalked toward Dick, who backed up pace for pace.  He might be trained, but he wasn’t prepared to fight someone who could shift from a shadow to a corporal form.  “Do you realize what you could have done?!”  The man shouted, picking up a random end table and throwing against the wall before cornering Dick and gripping his throat.

“Please, stop,” Dick gasped, gripping the hand at his throat.  Something shifted in the man’s eyes and suddenly Dick could breathe again. 

Gasping he flinched when the man yelled, “Get out!”  But he didn’t hesitate to follow the order, stumbling out of the room and down the hall as quickly as he could.

He was barely out of the room when he heard the man yell one last “GET OUT!”

Without a backwards glance, Dick stumbled down the stairs and ran straight toward the main doors of the castle.

“Dick!”  He heard Wade call out to him.  “Wait!  What happened?!”

Dick paused to look at the man before shaking his head and continued his rush to the doors.  “Promise or not, I can’t stay here,” he said, tugging the door open and rushing into the cold Gotham winter air.  He wasn’t prepared for the cold, but he didn’t let it stop him.  Instead, he ran straight for the magical barrier that held everyone in this insane fantasy.

He had almost reached it when the first person wearing an all too familiar uniform dropped in front of him.  The League of Assassins.  Of course they were involved.  It was another piece of the puzzle, but it wasn’t one he could focus on right then.  He needed to get to that barrier.

But as he fought the assassin, without his usual weapons and armor, more of them seemed to appear out of thin air and Dick started to doubt his chances of getting through that barrier in one piece.  He went down with a particularly hard hit to his ribs, one knee connecting to the ground with a crack and a grunt of pain.  But he knew he couldn’t quit.  This wasn’t how he would go down.

So he raised a hand and blocked the bo staff sailing his direction, performing a move that he had used on Tim too many times to count, and effectively gaining a weapon from his enemy.  But a staff would only get him so far once they started pulling out their swords.  It would have to do for now thought.

Spinning on his knee, he kicked one assassin’s feet out from under them before blocking another staff’s descent to his head as he got both his feet back under him.  Immediately he jumped to avoid being knocked down the same way he had just served, using the momentum to land a kick to one chest and block another blow aimed at him.  But with each assassin he knocked down, another appeared, and Dick wasn’t any closer to the barrier. 

Then something surprising happened. 

Suddenly he found himself surrounded by a black shadow that dealt more damage in a matter of seconds than he had been able to in the minutes he had been fighting the assassins.  And each time Dick tried to get back into the fight, he found the shadow wall around him standing firm.  There was a pained grunt that had to be from the shadow man but he didn’t stop until all of the assassins were on the ground or on the run.

The shadow around Dick faded into the man kneeling on the ground, blood seeping through his shirt between his fingers where he had pressed his hand.  Looking back to the barrier, Dick debated whether or not he should still run for it.  But even before he decided he knew.  He couldn’t just leave the man responsible for saving his life out there on his own.

So he did what he always did, he sacrificed his own needs for those of someone else. 

Ducking down, Dick pulled the man’s free arm around his shoulders and looked at him.  He saw the surprise in the other man’s eyes, but just gave a small smile before helping him stand.  Slowly and carefully, Dick guided him back toward the doors to the castle.

“Thank you,” Dick said softly, sparing another glance to the man who seemed almost stunned at the words.  It was almost as if no one had ever thanked him before.  And maybe that was true.  The others there seemed close, but he seemed to hold himself apart. But something Kassandra had said about everyone being under the magic’s hold made him think that maybe it wasn’t the shadow man’s fault after all.

The instant they were inside again, Wade and Ryan rushed forward and took the man from Dick’s hold, guiding him to a side room with a chair placed in front of a fire.  Dick was spun around to face a determined looking Kassandra, who began running her hands over his body to check for injuries.  “I’m fine,” he waved her off.  “Just bruises.  Let me go help him.”  He tried to walk over to where the men had gone but Kassandra held onto his arm.

“They can help him just fine,” she told Dick. 

But he shook his head and pulled his arm out of her surprisingly strong hold.  “I want to help him.  He saved my life.  It’s the least I can do,” he admitted before heading toward the room.  Pushing the cracked door open fully, he paused just inside the door at the sight of the shadow man without his shirt on, illuminated by the firelight. 

He was beautiful.

Dick hadn’t noticed thanks to his anger and suspicion distracting him, but he couldn’t deny it in that moment.  This man was strength personified.  From the firm tone of his back to the clear lines of muscle in his arms.  And Dick knew the front was probably just was glorious as this angle.

“Dick,” Wade called out when he had been spotted, but Dick kept his eyes on the shadow man as he turned and locked gazes with Dick.  “Are you hurt at all?”  Dick shook his head and moved over to the man he couldn’t tear his eyes away from. 

Pausing to look down at the wound on his side, Dick frowned as he looked back to the man’s face.  “Can I?”  Dick asked, gesturing to the tools that Ryan was laying out, preparing to use to stitch up the wound.  The man seemed to be considering him for a moment before giving a silent nod and sending Ryan a look, who huffed and rolled his eyes before walking way.  Taking a protesting Wade with him.

Left alone, Dick got to work cleaning the wound with the basin of water and clean towel that had been set on the side table.  Kneeling so he could be eye to eye with the wound, Dick only glanced upward when the man hissed as the disinfectant likely burned the wound.  “I’m sorry,” Dick apologized, keeping his eyes on the task.  “I should not have gone into that room like I did.”

“I understand why you would,” the man muttered, and Dick frowned.  “But I appreciate the apology.  That watch is…”  Dick paused his threading of the needle to look up.  “It is very precious.”  It made Dick want to know more, but he knew he had pushed enough limits for the time being.  So he went back to work on the wound and began the process of stitching it closed with neat sutures.  “I don’t want you to feel as though you are a prisoner, but the…magic will not let you leave.  Not yet.” 

“Why?  Why is it holding all of you here?”

The man frowned down at him, considering his words.  “How do you know I am not the wielder of the magic?”

“Because that magic feels malicious.”  Dick didn’t know how he knew, but he just did.  He had felt it when he had pushed his way through.  He had experienced enough magic through the years to know what bad magic felt like.

“And how do you know I am not?”

Tying off the thread, Dick sat back on his feet and looked up at the man.  “You could have let them have me.  You could have sat back and let them kill me.  But you didn’t,” Dick gave a small, genuine smile.  “You saved me.  You got hurt saving me.”  Breaking the intense gaze, Dick grabbed a gauze pad and medical tape to cover the wound so it could heal cleanly.

“My name is Jace,” the man offered after a few more moments of silence. 

Standing and setting the medical tape on the tray, Dick smiled and held out a hand to the other man.  “It’s nice to meet you Jace, my friends call me Dick.”  He ignored the spark in his chest when Jace’s larger hand encased his and squeezed lightly.

[izhunny]

AO3 Writer’s Tag Game

Tagged by @teadrinkingwolfgirl and @missarisanitewrites

[and a couple others (whose tags I didn't save)] on very similar tag games, which I combined and I'm sorry this took so long to get to, but thank you so much!

How many works do you have on AO3?

9 (but one of them is a collection of 20 flash ficlets from prompts that can each standalone as a story on their own in the same pocket universe)

What is your total AO3 wordcount?

305,410 (published as of September 2021)

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

2 and a smidge? (more coming)

MCU

Only You (1994)

& a haiku or 2 for SPN

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Closer to the Heart

Just An Old fashioned Love Song

After Ragnarok

A Stolen Exchange

Trapped Together

(I am not popular, LOL.)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes, absolutely. Because I like connecting with readers, building up our community, and those wonderful souls who comment with kindness deserve a kind response.

What is the fic you’ve written with the Angstiest ending?

Don't Fall Away (as a sort of open-ended, who-knows-what-comes-next quality to it, even though the major theme is resolved. That's as angsty as I’ll get.)

Do you ever write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written?

Apparently, yes. Don't Fall Away. (so far, gimme a minute)

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yep.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yep. uh, what kind? 

Romantic? Satisfying? Silly? Emotionally charged? LOL.

Mostly I write explicit M/M, but also some F/M, but I think maybe this question is really asking about handling purple prose or strange/vague euphemisms for genitalia or actions. 

Frankly, I use the words: cock, balls, ass, n*pples, lips, and clit shamelessly whenever needed. I probably do wax a little poetic for what the participants are feeling/thinking whilst getting down and dirty. It always feels a little mechanical to me, but I keep trying, hopefully improving. I hope the reader can envision the enjoyable sex the characters are having without it detracting from the story when it happens, because it's both necessary and gratuitous to each instance it occurs. And my characters always have the good sex. 

But I'm thinking I should really write a sex scene equivalent of "it's like pizza; even if it's bad, it's still pretty good!" because it would be funny to have mediocre sex in a fic for a change instead of an Earth Shattering Bang, and I like humor a lot. Humor always has a place in the bedroom. Even the fictional ones.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep.

(The plagiarism was super easy to report and get removed from AO3. Bless the AO3 Abuse support team.)

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope. Not yet. I could be talked into this with the right person and subject matter.

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

*sighs deeply* Frostiron has been my chosen ride or die OTP since around 2013. And I don’t see it changing anytime soon.

I am a ship and let ship soul, though. I've read enjoyable fics with every possible MCU character pairing published through about 2015-2016. Same goes for Hiddleston (and Hiddleston characters) and add your plus one or more combos (OFCs, OMCs, reader inserts, self-inserts, crossovers, free-for-alls, etc. I kink shame no one, even if they run up on a squick of mine, that’s my issue and not anybody else’s). I head canon a whole lotta love for shipping with lots of fandoms I don't explore overmuch. We should all ship all the ships we want. (Han/Leia and Westley/Buttercup are my original canon OTP ships.)

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

First fandom I published for: MCU

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

All of the ones from a flash fic prompt list which includes:

Wish Granted

Trapped Together & especially

A Stolen Exchange  because I didn't have plan before I started publishing from the prompts. I had to fly by the seat of my pants for each piece, had no idea if I could let it end up without a proper ending or tied up loose threads. ASE is a collection of writing exercises (write quick-under 2 hrs, publish quick-within 24hrs of taking on the prompt, 500 words or less). It really built my confidence in my ability to tell a story. Two of the prompts were written on the same day, the other 18 were one per day, all of them related, and tied up with a neat little explicit bow on chapter 20.

Feel free to ignore the tags, my lovelies: @writernotwaiting @rabentochter @jaybarou @later0varies @pedeka @whovianfloozy @geminiloveca  @prudenceevenstar @maeve-curry-writes @silverdrip @securitybreach @the-haven-of-fiction and this is open to any other writers who wish to play. 

blank list below the cut for copy/paste ease of play

AO3 Writers Tag Game Tagged by:    Thank you! How many works do you have on AO3? What is your total AO3 wordcount? How many fandoms have you written for and what are they? What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Do you respond to comments, why or why not? What is the fic you’ve written with the Angstiest ending? Do you ever write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written? Have you ever received hate on a fic? Do you write smut? If so what kind? Have you ever had a fic stolen? Have you ever co-written a fic before? What’s your all-time favourite ship? What was the first fandom you wrote for? What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? tagging: