#others can put in little to no effort and get good grades and a job and shit and me trying my best gets me 100 missing assignments...

[sk3l3t0n444]

im fucking trying...

[lotus-slumbers]

Introduction to Platonic Yandere! Superman...? [New Character for Request Unlocked: Yandere! Superman]

There's such a thing as hypocrisy, in the way that police officers will turn a blind eye to their peers' brutality and the way political officials will see the money being handed off underneath tables and turn a blind eye. Protector's turned abusers and servants turned benefactors. The world's corruption runs deep and even those who hold themselves to the highest regard are not exempt from the poison of it. It's just too intoxicating.

— Yandere! Batfam is NOT exempt from this cruel law of nature, no matter how hard they try not to stray from the path of the good and righteous. They crack underneath the pressure of their obsession with you, feed off of each other's own delusions, and unanimously agree that this is true and right, even if society sees it as wrong.

— Yandere! Batfam is good at evading an audience. If they don't want to be seen, they won't be. It's as simple as that. Their power and fame are to be used by them, for their goals, not the prying eye and gossiping tongues of the media.

— Yandere! Batfam doesn't lose a wink of sleep at night about your safety within the manor or how the world may view the situation at hand— how closely it could be misunderstood as a kidnapping, ruining their lives and risking Gotham's safety.

— Yandere! Batfam is secure, just as safe as the massive manor they keep you locked up in. It would take something, someone truly unstoppable to break through their defenses.

— Superman makes quick work of it on an odd Sunday afternoon when he finds you trying to shimmy the lock to the Batcave. He stands behind you for a second, watching the thin hairclip do a sorry job, bending and twisting, while he's trying to recount all of the kids Bruce had taken in over the years.

— Superman even puts a hand up, counting out on his hands. Since when was there another? Was there another? He'd never seen you out on patrol with the Bat and he seemed to love endangering orphans.

— Superman, too caught up in his own thoughts, forgets to even lower himself to the ground like a human would. Instead, he hovers there, a massive form even more imposing when you turn and see him. Would it have been worse for Bruce to find you or Superman?!

— "Couldn't bother to Youtube this beforehand?" There is a small grin on his face. He wouldn't be threatened by such a little thing, especially when you look so scared yourself.

— Superman believes you when you scramble to explain your situation, clinging desperately to him like he was a lifeline. Your hero— he likes the sound of that. Except Superman doesn't believe you completely. At first, he thinks there might be something wrong with you.

— Superman leads you to sit, nodding and patting your shoulder as his eyes rove over you. He's searching, ruling out as much as he can. You don't seem intoxicated, you don't seem like you've sustained a head injury...

— Superman isn't a spy. Or, at least he isn't most of the time. He broke into the Wayne Manor in search of Batman and had made no effort to be subtle about it. The alarms had been set off; his great accomplishment was getting inside in the first place.

— Yandere! Batfam was alerted the moment it happened, each one getting the highest-graded emergency alert for the otherwise silent alarm in the manor. They nearly lose themselves in a panic.

— Superman can only start to make sense of the situation when he's looking down the barrel of a shotgun. Alfred Pennyworth, armed and ready, gives him the kindest and most cordial of smiles as he lowers the gun and makes a quip about using the front door. Alfred is as lethal as a neurotoxin, inducing fatal type paralysis. So few can escape his charm, being lulled into a sense of security and trust.

— Yandere! Batfam nearly breaks the door down when they get there, Bruce and one of his heathens, armed and pointing a katana, followed by another and then two more. It's a mess, really. Once one puts their guard down, realizing who it is, another one comes in ready to kick some ass. Eventually, it all settles but the small one with a katana never lowers his blade >:))

— It doesn't take Superman long to figure out just how pissed off Yandere! Batfam is, especially Yandere! Bruce Wayne. Even with his weapons put back away, he looks like he would half the mind to jump him. But, behind that normal annoyance and passive-aggressive remarks Clark is used to getting from Batman, there's something else. For the first time in his life, Superman thinks he sees Batman anxious. 

—  Superman is scolded. Dick Grayson pulls you from underneath his grasp and his wing instead. This is your only chance, though, God be damned the repercussions you'll suffer later if it doesn't work. You struggle, you cry. "They've kidnapped me!" An awkward tension fills the room. Tim avoided eye contact, Jason stone-faced and glaring alongside Damian, just daring him to try something. Dick joins Alfred in a smile, loudly laughing like the whole thing is a joke. 

— Superman makes perfect sense of the situation when Bruce tells him with a genuinely heartbroken look that you're "not well" and "can't understand what's going on." Clark and Bruce may have their differences and fallingouts from time to time, but there's hardly anyone else he knows he can trust and count on. Hardly anyone else he can say is, genuinely, a good man. 

— Seeing you cry like that leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, lowering himself down a little and softening his voice to apologize to you. When you don't answer him, now defeated and grieving your failed attempt in the safety of Dick's embrace, it feels worst than a gut punch for Superman. He caused this, he thinks. Bruce only reinforces this guilt when he tells him that they should head somewhere else and talk, ordering the rest of Yandere! Batfam to take care of you and bring you back upstairs to get some rest. 

— So, Superman finds himself in the Batcave, relaying important information and threats back to Batman, distracted by the thought of you. He's no good at hiding it, either. Your tears had gotten to him.

— Good, Yandere! Bruce Wayne thinks. Superman has been convinced. 

— But... doubt and anxiety still lay underneath his stoic expression. When the topic comes back around to you, right in the middle of Yandere! Bruce Wayne trying to usher him back out the door again, he has to humor him and lay it on him thick because if there's anyone in the world who stood a chance at taking his precious child away from him, it would be the man of steel. 

— So, when the Man of Steel insists that he should come back in a week to check on you, to ease his mind (and doubts), Yandere! Bruce Wayne has no choice but to agree and to thank him for wanting to help. It would just be all the more suspicious if he denied him. 

— Yandere! Superman does just that exactly a week later to the day and hour, having not stopped thinking about you the whole time he was away...

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hello! Someone genuinely trying to understand and perhaps unlearn some reactionary tendencies. With the response to that anon about "not asking if you're a pro or anti", the response about "imagine if they put this much effort into protecting real kids" definitely got me thinking. So... Is an adult shipping children and finding that hot NEVER a red flag? Or is it case by case on seeing how that person handles the distinction between fiction and reality in other things? And bringing the issue of real kids into it, if a real kid who has been abused sees someone shipping kids and finds that a red flag in that person, that... No, no I juicy answered my own question on that one. Block them and cultivate your own experience.

hi there anon, and congrats on trying to unlearn some things! and great job catching yourself at the end there, that's exactly correct.

I will start by saying this right out of the gate: fundamentally, I do not really give a shit about what made up scenarios about fictional characters people are jorking it to in private. I am, first and foremost, interested in how they are interacting with actual, real people.

"but Makenzie are you saying people who look at sexually explicit images of real human kids should be allowed near children?" no I'm not. please note that I was specifically talking about people engaging with fictional characters who are, you know, not real and do not have feelings and therefore cannot actually be hurt, traumatized, abused, etc, in any way that actually matters. I want to be so clear about this: you can genuinely think whatever vile things you want about fictional characters. you can enjoy any problematic shit you want with little guys who don't actually exist.

like, here's an example I use a lot: I'm kind of a huge Batman fan. don't know if you could tell that or not, I'm pretty subtle about it. if you spend any time in the Batman mythos, you know that this is a story where you just kind of have to take for granted that our hero is a billionaire using his vast wealth to dispatch vigilante justice with military grade weaponry and a small army of child soldiers and cop friends to help him put people in prison. these are moral quandaries that are discussed and acknowledged within the story, but fundamentally the universe is always going to involve billionaire vigilantism and child soldiers and the so-called carceral justice system. that's just the price of admission if you're gonna read Batman.

and like. I spend a lot of time in that world. I love Batman, I love his child soldiers. he's my little blorbo or whatever. but like, at no point have I said "yeah, fuck it, preteens should be learning martial arts to fight domestic terrorists, actually. I think Elon Musk SHOULD be allowed to put on a fursuit and beat up criminals. cops need more funding." no amount of Batman comics can make me believe or act on any of those things because, you know, I'm a person with a brain and I know the difference between "thing that makes a good story" and "thing that should actually happen for real."

and the thing is that genuinely, honestly, if someone thought that it was a red flag that I like Batman, and that enjoying Batman comics was somehow a red flag indicating that I'm fine with violence being done against real, actual children? I would think that person was a nut, if I can be super real. like, I'm thinking about somebody trying to make the case that I shouldn't be allowed to hang out with my nephew because I enjoy the fictional character of Robin so clearly I'm going to kill my nephew's parents in front of him to try to get him into vigilante justice. or if someone attempted to bar me from teaching my 4th-6th grade sex ed classes on the grounds that I was obviously going to teach them to do karate to clowns instead of how their reproductive systems worked.

(although, lets be real, there are a lot of politicians who would MUCH rather let little kids cage fight each other than learn anything about safer sex.)

this doesn't just apply to morally bad things, either, btw. I also read a lot of romance novels, especially hetero romances. and the thing is, not one of those books has made me want to fall in love with a ruggedly handsome but condescending straight man. hell, none of them have made me want to fall in love with anybody, period. that's not really something I'm interested in for myself, it's just a fun and frequently funny dynamic to explore. I'm hardly the first queer person to point out that the allegations that queer media "turns kids gay/trans" is obviously bullshit since the vertible mountain of cishet media evidently failed to turn any of us straight/cis, you know?

my point being: no, I genuinely don't think it's often, if ever, reasonable to judge someone's actual, real life morals by how they interact with fiction.

I'm going to say something so vulnerable right now, because we're in a safe space here: since you asked me this very reasonable question, you evidently value my judgment and perspective at least a little bit. and I once read and thoroughly enjoyed a fic in which Dr. Horrible, from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, gets fucked by a sapient evil horse. and I don't think that makes me a morally reprehensible person, or a person who advocates for real human beings having real sex with real horses. I think it just makes me kind of a weirdo with a bullshit tolerance.

if you want to hear a MUCH more thorough take on this, complete with addressing the issue of shipping fictional children, I cannot recommend Princess Weekes' video essay enough:

[ceruark]

campus crush, pt. 2

synopsis: blue lock boys as crushes you’d develop at university! [ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, and michael kaiser (pt. 2)] (pt. 1 here) words: 2.6k notes: gn! reader. a/n: thank you to everyone who supported part 1! let me know who else you'd like to see for this series :>

kaiser pt. 2 req taglist: @lizzzmm @mochiii-sama @anyaslittlepeanut rin req taglist: @levihanmyotp @ieathairs

isagi yoichi - lab partner

general education courses are the bane of your existence. wasn’t that high school’s job? why should you be forced to pay to take a class you have absolutely no interest in when you could be putting your time to good use pursuing what you love instead?

whether it’s as a gen ed course or a prereq for your major, you somehow find yourself in a chemistry class that, of course, starts at the crack of dawn (8 a.m.). you go into the class fearing for your life; you’ve heard horror stories from your friends about their own lab partners who would skip the lab period, slack off, and push all the work onto them while reaping the benefits of earning the same grade.

fortunately for you, your lab partner is nothing like that. isagi is the epitome of politeness, and as the semester goes on, you find him to be super sweet and extremely competent— at times, you find yourself feeling bad because he picks up the material much faster than you and sometimes ends up doing the brunt of the work. he always brushes off your apologies, saying that he doesn’t mind at all and that you’re plenty helpful during lab.

it’s extremely easy for you to get comfortable around isagi. his kindness is so genuine that it’s easy to fall into a real friendship with him. you end up grabbing lunch with him after lab every week, waving to him when you pass each other on campus, and even texting him about things other than your shared class, and soon enough, you find yourself mentioning him more frequently in conversation. you start talking about him so much that your friends start teasing you about having a crush on him, which you vehemently deny despite the blush that paints your cheeks bright red.

it’s around midterms when their casual teasing becomes far more serious, though, when two of your friends get out of class early one day and decide to sit with you and isagi at lunch. unintentionally, isagi is a social butterfly and hits it off with your friends immediately, who are just as charmed by his warm nature as you are.

“that’s boyfriend material manifest,” your friend says the second he’s out of earshot, “you better get on that, and fast.”

you spend the next couple of weeks continuing to spend time with isagi outside of class whenever you can, and skirting around your friends’ accusations of a crush. isagi is sweet, very much so, but it’s simply just not like that. besides, sometimes you worry that he’s a little too nice. you’re plenty capable of taking care of yourself, but it might be nice to have a boyfriend who can bite back on your behalf.

your doubts go up in smoke one day when you walk into lab a few minutes later than usual, only to see a tall blonde standing next to isagi at your shared workstation. you can’t see the stranger’s face, but you can see isagi’s: lips pulled down into a mean sneer, eyes blazing as he fires out insult after excruciating insult, exposing you to some of his more… colorful vocabulary. you feel yourself blush despite yourself, trying to crush the butterflies in your stomach.

it’s— well, it’s hot, to be quite honest.

you’re not really able to act normally around him after that. the feelings you’d been denying and suppressing have now arisen completely, refusing to be stamped down. you’re a blushing mess around him and, despite your best efforts, are now acting like a shy, awkward schoolgirl around a guy you’ve been casually talking to for months now. that would be embarrassing enough by itself, but everything is made worse by the fact that isagi isn’t stupid, and he’s able to pick up on your shift behavior and the likely feelings behind it—which, of course, leaves him a blushing, stuttering mess as well.

you’re wallowing in frustration over your helplessness, slouched over the workstation with your head in your hands before lab starts, when you hear something being placed down in front of you.

you look up, surprised. a box from a popular bakery near campus sits in front of you. you lift your head further and lock eyes with isagi, who is flushed red—from nerves or the late spring heat, you can’t tell, but you can appreciate the way his tank top shows off the toned arms you’ve rarely gotten to see in time’s past.

he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, clearly riddled with nerves, yet you can see the determination in his eyes, which he refuses to avert away from yours.

“the first showing of this semester’s play is this saturday,” isagi says, fidgeting a bit with the hem of his sleeves. “i was wondering if, uh, you’d like to go with me? and maybe get dinner before that? if you’re available, of course.”

you lift the lid of the bakery box. inside is a cupcake of your favorite flavor, which you had offhandedly mentioned to isagi in conversation once.

you smile up at him softly. “of course,” you say, “i’d like that.”

you both stay like that for a moment, smiling shyly at each other, until the professor walks in and loudly asks isagi to take his seat. 

the fanfare your friend group chat meets the news of your date with does little to distract you from the side glances and sweet smiles he shoots you throughout the period.

itoshi rin - library worker

you seriously regret taking this literature course.

you’re just taking it to fulfill a requirement. it’s supposed to be a low-stress class; you’d done your research, and the professor was very lax, making the course an easy A so long as you were competent in stringing together an argument and structuring an essay. the only thing that gave you some pause was the fact that there was a research component to it, but a friend who had taken the course told you that it wasn’t anything super intense or difficult, so you went ahead and signed up for the course.

and it’s been fine the whole semester. the assignments haven’t been stressful at all, and the professor is incredibly funny and kind. it’s everything you could have asked for in a class. but things have taken a turn since midterms hit, which is when you had to start pulling together an outline for your final research paper. you have free range over the topic, and you’ve settled on exploring victorian gothic literature, so it’s not the paper itself that’s giving you grief, either.

no, it’s the damn student worker stationed in the library who’s been giving you your daily dose of migraines these days.

of course you know of itoshi rin; he and his brother are notorious on campus for their beauty yet cold personalities that leave them “untouchable.” your friends have fawned over the younger one more than once, given that he’s the same year as you all. you can admit that both brothers were attractive—you’d either be a liar or a contrarian to say otherwise—but you never really understood openly gushing over them when they could both be quite rude.

and now that you’ve actually interacted with rin, you are firm in your belief that the itoshi brothers are overrated and undeserving of their many admirers. 

rin glaring at you when you approached the reception desk was enough on its own to rub you the wrong way—god forbid you ask a man to do his job. and then, when you asked him to point you in the direction of the section related to your research topic, he sighed under his breath like you were inconveniencing him and told you the approximate location of what you were looking for in a deadpan voice that still somehow managed to come across as condescending.

it only escalates from there. he seems to always be on the clock whenever you have time to stop by the library to pick up books you checked out, and the cool glare he greets you with always manages to get under your skin. 

it’s as you’re checking out a copy of wuthering heights and returning a copy of dracula that he says, “your picks are very basic.”

your eye twitches. this is the first time he’s spoken a word to you outside of what his job requires him to say, and of course, it’s something that pisses you off. 

“they’re classics for a reason,” you respond easily, feigning nonchalance.

rin gives a noncommittal shrug, but you can feel the condescension in his gaze as he hands you the book, grating on your nerves. 

next time, you request a copy of the beetle by richard marsh. the mysteries of udolpho by ann radcliffe next. 

you’re picking up the last novel you selected for this paper, flatland by edward abbott, when he finally bothers to talk to you again.

“this one hasn’t been in print for very long,” he mumbles as he scans it into the system, registering your rental.

“i know,” you say, not bothering to keep the smugness out of your voice. “not a very basic pick, is it?”

he fixes you with that blank stare again, but you don’t quite miss the way the corner of his lip quirks up into the slightest of smirks as he slides the book over the counter to you.

despite the fact that you really don’t need to, you keep renting out a book from the library every week even after you’ve finished your essay. every time, you make sure it’s something that’s in the realm of horror but not a super common title, spending hours researching and compiling a list of novels that fit your criteria. it’s got absolutely nothing to do with the smart-mouthed guy handing the books off to you every week, who you’ve actually gotten to the point of bantering with (because, quite frankly, you don’t think your takes on the novels are as bad as he claims they are).

half your friends think you’ve just picked up a new hobby. the other half think you’ve gone insane. only one knows the truth, when they catch you taking a handwritten note out of the most recent book you’ve just picked up from the library, shaking your head and scoffing at whatever’s written on it, but also struggling to keep the smile off your face.

her curiosity spurs her into following you to the library the next week, where she catches you and itoshi rin in heated discussion over the novel, the man actually fully engaged in the conversation and having eyes only for you.

well, she can keep a secret just this once. far be it for her to interfere with your accomplishment of the impossible.

michael kaiser - study date (pt. 2)

you shouldn’t have agreed to come to the cafe with him—you’re in way over your head.

it’d taken four hours, the consultation of every friend you have on campus, and a seemingly endless amount of cycling through every article of clothing you own, but eventually, you’d looked into your full-length mirror and deemed yourself ready for your date with kaiser.

you thought that calling it a “date” was being generous, but your friends insisted otherwise. he asked you to go to a cafe with him, one-on-one. to study, you’d argued, but they just amended their statement to call it a study date. which is a thing, apparently.

regardless, you’ve gone with a relatively safe outfit—nothing too fancy, in case it really is just another study session, but still something nicer than you would normally wear around campus, especially to the library.

you headed out at about six-twenty, since you’d agreed to meet at the library at six-thirty. sucking in a shaky breath and wiping your sweaty palms off on your shirt, you threw your laptop into your bag and slung it over your shoulder, then began the trek to the library.

it felt like a death march. each step closer to the entrance had your heart rate increasing, and by the time you found yourself climbing the final steps to the floor that your usual study spot is on, you felt like you might have actually been having a heart attack with the way the organ felt like it was about to burst out of your chest at any moment.

remember, he asked you, your friend’s voice echoed in your head as you steeled yourself and ignored the instinct to turn tail and flee while you still could.

now, you’ve been sitting with kaiser at a cozy table by a window in the back of the cafe for just over an hour now, but you’ve felt like your face is going to melt off the entire time. the cool detachment from your previous encounters is gone now, leaving you in the wake of the flirtatious nature you’d only heard about from others, something so rare to behold it’d become something of a myth on campus.

an hour, and neither of you had brought out a single notebook or laptop. after ordering your drinks and sitting down, you didn’t feel like you had a moment to even breathe; kaiser kept your gaze trapped within his own intense one, his blue eyes locked onto yours as he made “casual conversation,” which mostly just ended up being him coaxing you into talking about yourself.

he answered some of your questions, too, about his major, plans post-grad, and even the people he insisted weren’t friends (you’d felt your nervous smile go a bit fond at that; he could say whatever he liked, but if he really didn’t like alexis and yoichi, he probably wouldn’t be spotted around them as much as he was). after expertly dodging your questions about his home life and family twice, you took the hint and backed off, steering the conversation back to yourself.

there’s finally a lull in your conversation, prompting you to finally tear your eyes away from his and look down at your backpack. fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, you ask, “should we, um, get started on work?”

a sense of deja vu washes over you when you don’t get a response. it seems his silence is a command for your attention, and you shyly peer up at him, nearly cowering under the bored glare he’s now sending you that very much reminds you of the day in the library that had landed you in this situation to begin with.

“why bother?” he asks, tilting his head against the palm it’s propped up against. “it’s irresponsible to start another assignment when you haven’t finished the one you’re currently working through.”

you raise an eyebrow at the implication behind that statement but decide to indulge him, anyways. “and just what assignment might you be working on right now?”

his smirk reemerges, and you feel your own face heat up again. “a research project, of sorts,” he answers breezily. “i’ve yet to collect enough data to satisfy me.”

“what a shame,” you say, somehow managing to keep yourself together enough to go along with the bit. “do you plan to gather more?”

he lets out a hum, then begins to trace his finger in circles along the rim of his mug. his eyes are so sharp as they gaze into yours that your breath hitches before he even answers.

“if my subject is willing to meet with me again, then yes.”

yeah, you’re definitely way in over your head with this one.

[ssentimentals]

Hiii, can you do 26 with minghao?

hiii anonie, sure i can, thank you for requesting! hopefully you will like it :)

prompt: group project/team effort

you don't want to sound bratty or like you have a big head, but working in pairs is a nightmare and you'd rather do extra work than pair up with someone. 'grades are important, but socializing is a crucial aspect of university life too,' ethics professors says with a small smile. 'besides, i paired you with minghao, so you should be happy.'

you don't even try to hide disdain in your voice: 'with who?'

'with me.' you almost jump at the sudden male voice. turning, you find yourself face to face with a complete stranger. 'i'll try not to disappoint.'

'i can sense that you two will be great together!' professor cuts in, clapping. 'minghao's taking this class with another group, but you don't have to worry, he's all caught up with our topics.'

you can only nod, unsure of what's left to say. you two shake hands, exchange your names and phone numbers; you try your best not to appear rude or show how unhappy you are, but he sees right through you: 'making projects on your own has its perks, but team work is always better. there are-'

'i am able to look at one topic from different angles and think of other opinions other than my own,' you mutter, not really in the mood to hear another lecture on why team work is good. it takes a beat to realize how impolite that came off: 'not to say that you can't do the same or, you know, whatever. sorry for interrupting.'

minghao doesn't look offended. if anything he looks contemplative, staring at you like you're some extra hard puzzle to solve. in the end he smirks a little, tilting his head to the side: 'i'll try to change your opinion on team effort.'

to be honest, you didn't think much about it at first, but minghao turned this into his mission. every meeting of yours he made sure to point out some advantages of team work: from bouncing ideas off each other to splitting the work to get it done faster. with your guards up you didn't let him in at first, but it's impossible not to crack cause minghao is relentless. when he stumbles into your room with your favorite coffee and donuts, you finally mutter: 'i get it, team work is cool, you can stop bribing me with coffee and donuts now.'

minghao only chuckes at that, shaking his head. 'not bribing. just doing it cause i wanted to.'

and that's - a lot. because minghao does a lot of those little things for you because 'he just wanted to'. staying up much later to explain certain topic for you, waiting for you after classes even though his ones finished long time ago, buying you food, offering to drive you home. carefully pointing out your mistake in analysis without making you feel stupid, giving you all of his attention when you wanted to discuss something - all of it made you feel something inside that's probably stupid to feel for someone who doesn't even make it clear that he likes you romantically.

'we'll get the highest score,' you announce confidently on the final week before presentation. proof-reading whole work, you turn to him with a grin. 'and yeah, good job on proving me wrong about the team work.'

minghao comes closer and stands right behind you, leaning in to see laptop screen better. he's entirely too close and you gulp, trying to appear nonchalant. 'we did a good job,' he corrects. suddenly, he grips your chair and spins you around so instead of facing laptop, you're facing him. 'we work well together, don't you think?'

you blink. it sounds like there's hidden meaning behind his words, but you can't understand what he means. trying not to blush, your eyes scan his eyes for any trace of the joke, but he looks dead serious. 'uh, yeah?' you mumble, practically molding your back to the chair to put at least some kind of distance between your faces. 'what-'

'i have a theory that i want to test,' minghao leans closer. 'theory goes like this: if two individuals work together really well on the project then they'll work together really well outside of the project too.'

your heart skips a beat. could it be that he...? 'i said thousand times that i hate it when you're not direct,' you let out. 'i said thousand times that you always need to get to the point clearly.'

minghao, again, doesn't look offended. he looks in love and very, very fond. 'go on a date with me,' he offers simply, not skipping a beat. and because he's a little shit, he adds: 'and in order to get to the point clearly let me add - a romantic date. the one, where people who fancy each other go.'

he is insufferable. incredibly intelligent, funny and also a little shit. he also makes you feel like being yourself is the only option. he makes you feel like you being yourself is enough for him to like you. grinning, you say: 'good to see that you're learning something. answer is 'yes', by the way.'

a/n: student!minghao is one of my favorite ones to write, hope you liked this one! - nini

request your own here

my other seventeen work is here

[brucewaynehater101]

I remember this one shot where tim & bruce swaps bodies while bruce is as batman in some jla meeting. Tim just continues it perfectly.

This is the body swap au, btw

Anyways, would Tim do a good job as Batman?. I think if Tim sees the swap as something brief he would do his best. (But we all make them swap long enough to Tim having enough time for long term plans) so if Tim gaslights himself into believing they would swap back after some weeks, he would do better. He thinks he can do better as a way to show he can be Batman without being a evil one(he's fighting the gun Batman allegations).

Still, it would be funny that in his "I'm gonna fix Bruce's life while am here plan".

Tim acts less as a classic moody batman while in the atalaya. Gives more and kind advice. He talks with Superman about his situation with Kon. He helps Flash with his eating schedule. He helps Arthur with whatever is going on in Atlantis. He shuts off all of the surveillance on Bruce's coworkers, just to mess with Bruce.

He just avoids Martian tho.

Then, it's been a month since the swap. They don't seem to find any way back. Tim cannot lie to himself anymore and the Batman duties are becoming way too much.

Then Bruce dies in Tim's body.

Tim never wanted to be Batman, neither to be like Bruce. But he messed Tim up. Tim never wanted to be like Bruce Wayne. And now he is living his nightmare, every day since Bruce death, Tim has to wake up and avoid his reflection. Tim never wanted to be like Bruce Wayne and now everyone call him the wrong name. Bruce died and Tim does what he does best, he sacrifices. He ditchs his identity any hope of being Tim Drake, so Batman can rise once again.

.

.

(The last paragraph is a little darker end of the version of this au where Bruce dies in Tim's body. I happily would read some of your ideas where none of them dies tho. There's just so many aspects os this au we can develop more, also we need more bruce pov of this).

Here is the post being referenced!

[I'm sorry to say that 90% of Bruce POV's are just gonna be him suffering.... I can try, though. Put up a valiant effort]

Let's really pack in that angst, shall we?

For this AU, Tim has been compared to Bruce so many fucking times.

At first, despite his shaky relationship with the grieving man, he took it as a compliment. He was like his hero Batman!

It started with Alfred fondly tutting over Tim's capacity to neglect self care duties and his shared interests. The older man would sarcastically ask Tim if he was following Bruce's footsteps of being a loner who sits in his basement all day (just teasing and joking and slight reprimanding).

Then there were the heroes that remarked on Robin's uncanny ability to do the batglare or translate Bruce's grunts.

When Steph and Tim got into arguments (and Tim was being a grade A asshole), Steph would compare Tim's emotional incapability and distrust with Batman's.

Dick, in the heat of the moment, has yelled at Tim to stop acting like Bruce (they got ice cream afterwards as an apology).

Jason has tsked and grumbled and shouted about Tim being molded into Bruce's shape/image.

Even Babs has made a comment or two.

While they didn't mean to hurt Tim (unless they were fighting [for which they would both usually make up and apologize]), it caused a small dig and insecurity to Tim's own self-image.

He wanted Bruce to be proud of him.

Tim wanted to be nothing like Bruce.

Then you add on the 16th birthday, Bruce's shit with Steph, how Bruce treats his other kids, other canon events, gun Batman, and Tim losing the rose-colored glasses of childhood?

Yeah. Tim doesn't want to be Bruce.

It seems fitting, after stealing Robin, that he'd get stuck under the name of the man he grew to see as a warning.

It figures that his choice in saving Batman lead to Tim's loss of self.

[Hmm... I can do another post chatting about Bruce or no one dying if you would like.... Or someone else dying before the truth comes out :)]

[maddie-dog-story-blog]

Babysitting for the Neighbor - 1

This is a story co-written by the amazing @baby-erica! Go check out her amazing blog!

It was another Friday night heading out to the bars after a long week of classes. Mads, a 22-year-old political science major at the local university, lived in a small, crowded house with four of his best friends from college. The house was located in a nice neighborhood near the university. Mads loved his house for a number of reasons. He had great roommates. The layout of the place was perfect for hosting parties. The house was close enough to school, stores, and the local bars he could easily walk anywhere he wanted to go. But, the number one reason Mads loved his house was his neighbors. Or, really, one neighbor in particular--Erica.

Erica was a little older than Mads. She was a second-year doctorial student in the political science department at his school. In that role, she had served as a graduate teaching assistant in a number of Mads classes. Her job included grading assignments, running discussion groups, and providing tutoring and mentorship for undergraduates taking the classes she was assisting in. Mads had been lucky enough to end up in not one, not two, but three discussion groups ran by Erica over the last year and had developed more than a little crush on the beautiful woman.

In Mads' eyes, Erica was the perfect woman. She was mature, intelligent, and worldly in a way he had never experienced. Beyond that, she was gorgeous. At barely five feet tall, Erica had a small frame. However, that frame was accentuated with curves in all of the right places. Everytime Mads saw the slightly older grad student, he couldn't help but sneak a peak at her beautiful breasts or tight, perky ass.

The fact that Erica lived just two doors down from Mads made his crush all the worse. He didn't just get to see his dream woman done up professionally, commanding a room full of undergrads as she schooled them on modern political theory, but he'd often see her in work out gear, out on her daily run, in a vintage band tee and jeans on the way to the store, or even with her hair a mess in her short pajama shorts and an oversized T-shirt as she rushed to get her trash can out before the garbage truck arrived.

But, by far, Mads just for his neighbor and occasional tutor and mentor, peaked on nights like this one. No one would ever accuse Mads of putting too much effort into his appearance when he would trek out to the bars with his friends, looking for a good time and, hopefully, some physical companionship for the night. If the weather was warm, he'd throw on a nice T-shirt or polo, a pair of shorts, and his dressiest flip-flops. If it was cold, he'd replace the shorts with jeans, flip-flops with sneakers, and throw on a jacket.

The same could not be said for Erica. When she went out on the town, she put in WORK, and Mads was all too willing to appreciate the fruits of her labor. Some nights, she would go punk rock, wearing a black tube too with some obscure band's logo across her chest paired with a black leather mini-skirt, studded belt, pink fishnets, and black combat boots. Other nights, she be dressed like a demurrer young woman rushing a respectable sorority. Her hair would be delicately pulled back with a head band while she wore a pink gingham, strapless sundress and cute white sandals. On still other evenings, Erica would be the sexiest hipster Mads has ever seen, her hair hidden beneath a beanie, chunky framed glasses on her face, with a red plaid, button down shirt, tied in a knot between her breasts to show off her cleavage and tight midriff.

Erica's ability to change from style to style, remaining sexy in each, made Erica seem like a real life doll. Someone you could dress up in anything, and it would just seem right.

For Mads, any evening he went out and got a glimpse of his sexy neighbor was a highlight of his week, but tonight was special. As Mad waited for his roommates to join him on the sidewalk outside of his house, Erica walked directly up to him with her friend Sarah, who Mads knew from a few of his study groups in tow.

"Hey Mads! How're you doing tonight? Going out?" the short grad student asked as she walked up to her neighbor, flirtatiously placing a hand on his arm.

"Uh… um… uh… Yeah. I'm going out with my friends," Mads stammered out, suddenly finding his tongue tied. He was trying not to obviously ogle his college instructor, but he couldn't help himself. He had never seen her in this outfit before. She was in a low cut red dress that both barely covered her breasts and accentuated her cleavage. The dresses skirt was cut so short that her panties--or lack thereof--would be obvious at the slightest bend. The dress hugged Erica's curves, perfectly showing off her tight, round ass, shaped from years of careful attention to her fitness. The whole look was tied together with the bright red lipstick covering the grad student's lips, matching the shade of her dress exactly.

Erica giggled and stepped closer to Mads as he stammered his answer, positioning herself so her tall, one-time student would have to look down her dress as he talked to her. She rubbed his bicep gently as she talked.

"Oh yeah? Where are you going? We're heading out to, maybe we'll see you around?" She said, sex seemingly dripping off of every word she spoke. Mads rubbed the corner of his mouth, making sure he wasn't literally drooling over this woman.

"We're just, uh, going out, uh, places? We haven't really picked yet. Maybe we will see you!" Mads replied, his tongue still seemingly knotted up in his mouth.

Erica's friend Sarah rolled her eyes at both her friend's shameless flirting and Mads failure to form an intelligible sentence in response. "Come on, Erica, let's go! I want to get a few drinks in before we start dancing," Sarah said, impatiently grabbing Erica's arm. Sarah then turned to Mads, "Mads, if you want to see us, come to Revi's. We're planning on hitting their dance floor hard tonight."

Mads looked up at Sarah and away from Erica, and it was as if a spell was broken. He shook his head and, suddenly, he was able to remember words again. "Thanks for letting me know, Sarah! Maybe we'll see you there!" Mads responded.

Mads' clarity of thought didn't last long. Erica, her body within inches of Mads', moved her hand from his bicep and lightly grabbed his hip. Like a tsunami, all of the blood rushed out of Mads' brain, directly into his dick.

"We better," Erica said demandingly. She then turned and walked away, gently swaying her ass, clearly showing off for the undergrad.

Mads watched like a statue as the two women walked away, still stunned by Erica's beauty and forwardness. He eventually looked away when Brad and Steve, his companions for the evening, came out of their house. Brad walked up to Mads and slapped him on the shoulder. Gesturing towards Erica and Sarah, he said, approvingly, "Now, that's a woman." Mads nodded his head in agreement.

The next few hours passed quickly. Mads and his friends found themselves hopping from bar to bar, like the did most Friday nights. Nothing of note happened until, finally, they made their way to Revi's.

The combination of time, alcohol, and food conversation had effectively wiped Mads memory of his run-in with his crush earlier in the night. It all came rushing back to him when he walked into Revi's and saw Erica on the dance floor. The beautiful woman was on the dance floor, grinding her ass in time to the music on her taller friend Sarah. Her skin glistened with sweat as she moved her body suggestively one-time to the music. Mads immediately felt himself fill with lust for the diminutive woman again.

Steve slapped Mads back and put his mouth up to his friend's ear so he could be heard over the music. "Dude, you're staring. Let's go get a drink, reset, and, maybe, you can be less creepy and just ask her for a dance."

Mads let himself be dragged away to the bar by his friend, knowing that he would never have the confidence to actually talk to Erica tonight.

Erica, for her part, noticed Mads. She spent the night, much to Sarah's chagrin, carefully positioning herself in Mads' line of sight, doing everything in her power to try and get the young, handsome man to engage with her. Unfortunately for her, Mads just wasn't that courageous. Mads never made his move.

As the night came to an end, Mads found himself sitting at a table alone, chastising himself for not making his move with Erica earlier in the night. As he nursed his drink, Erica's friend Sarah sat down at the table with him.

"Hey Mads," she said friendily.

"Hey Sarah, are you and Erica having a good night?" Mads answered, a little bit of disappointment seeping into his tone.

Sarah couldn't help but roll her eyes at Mads' self-defeating behavior, but she continued to chug along. "So, I've heard from some professors that you occasionally work as a babysitter for them?" She asked.

Mads perked up. He did babysit semi-regularly to make some easy cash.

"Yeah, I do from time to time, why?" He asked.

"Well," Sarah said, taking a long sip of her drink, "It turns out Erica needs a babysitter tomorrow night. She's in the bathroom now, but I told you I'd give you her number in case you were interested."

It struck Mads as odd that Erica would need a babysitter. He had lived two doors down from her for almost a year now and had never seen a kid there before. However, there were a number of explanations for why she might need a babysitter, and he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Sure, I'd love to take the job. Just give me the number," Mads responded.

Sarah let out a big sigh of relief. "Good," she said.

Sarah expertly put Erica's number in Mads' phone and the night quickly wound down from there. Mads went home and went to bed. His dreams were filled images of red dresses and lips.

NEXT CHAPTER

[the-words-we-sung]

Thoughts and pictures - S3E4

I've never been that slow with a Young Royals rewatch >< It's hard for me to get through this season (especially now that I'm in the last 3 episodes...)

And here we go, starting directly with a very sad Simon 😞 Omar plays a crying Simon way too well, it breaks my heart every damn time...

I like hearing Wilhelm call Simon his boyfriend 🥰 Also is it me, or do we have a lot more close up shots in season 3? (No clue if that's what it's called, I mean shots that are very zoomed in on their faces like this one.)

Vincent drawing a dick on the ground, of course... And I don't get his explanation: "why even try if there's no reward for the effort?". It means if the school closes, they all won't graduate and have to do their grade all over again? Surely if they're taking tests and all, it counts for something? Why fail an important test and take the risk to fail your year? 🤔 (Not gonna lie, most of Vincent's reactions to what's happening to the school this season left me quite perplexed ^^') And if it's just the graduation ceremony that is cancelled, it still doesn't mean they're not graduating, does it? 🤔

But can you really Simon?

And Wilhelm repeating his mother's words "it's a privilege, not a punishment" breaks my heart >< (Also I'm gonna be a little shit about it but even the Royals have a choice in the end about accepting or not their role and job: after all, Wille is gonna renounce it in 2 episodes :p)

I do like what he said about the role of the royal family in Sweden! We have very little information on that in the show so I appreciate it here. And he looks so pretty in this light!

Wilhelm sounded so surprised that Farima said yes immediately when he told her they needed to help Simon. He was expecting to have to fight them on that.

Why did he have to delete his whole account? Why not just put it on private? (I know I've read in several fanfics the idea that searching and deleting through all the new people who followed him before going on private would be too much of a hassle but I feel like it's a stretch, and an acceptable price to pay to keep his account?)

Their conversation about Wilhelm's choice of foundation makes me so so sad! I had hoped that he would see Simon's point of view on how he can use his role as Crown Prince to try and make things better! I was actually pretty surprised that he was 100% not interested. It's a new facet of Wilhelm's personality that we hadn't really seen before I guess? And it feels like it creates a serious gap between them, it shows that they're not on the same page at all about a pretty serious subject (which is not good for the future of their relationship...)

This shot of these 3 made me laugh :p

This one hurts... Another crack in their relationship 😩 Simon is realizing how different they are. He knew they were but this season is showing us a side of Wilhelm that just seems incompatible with Simon :/ It's not just differences in tastes or personality, now it's differences in their core values also. And that is a huge problem.

So we learn that Simon mostly avoided Micke for Sara's sake. Or maybe he's exaggerating that fact because he's really angry at her.

The sit-in scene is very funny, they're all so dramatic, thinking they might starve to death xD I didn't think that August's eating disorder would be confirmed this way! Also I guess Vincent does have ADHD then? It was not just an excuse to get pills.

"Because we are different?" Yeah... that's what this episode is really about, how different you both are. Which wouldn't be an issue for me if it was less about such important matters :/ I wish we had seen them learn more from each other this season, instead of being in conflict to much.

I agree with Felice that it's getting out of hand! (I still enjoy the whole thing though 😁). I don't dislike Stella as much as a lot of people seem to, but I don't like her in this scene and how she talks to Felice!

Cutest scene of the episode.

I adore this scene. It makes me want to cry. I love them both and I'm so happy that they're slowly finding their way back to each other <3

"Erik was there." This sceeeeene!! Such a punch in the face, so fucking terrible >< (So well acted also!!)

Another trauma for my poor boy...

So lots of mixed feelings with this episode! I'm very frustrated with Wilhelm and his reactions, but I love the Sara arc. I really like the end of the episode, with some very good scenes. But now I really don't wanna go watch the next one ><

[thundercest]

so now that we've seen a bit of max and phoebe settling in and their "parenting" styles, what sort of headcanons do you have for them in terms of domestically living together? i've got the following: -they like to do paperwork/grading for their jobs together (max tries to slip some of his into phoebe's pile and she knows and she slips it back into his. neither of them acknowledge this is happening) -they're actually pretty good about splitting cooking duties, although phoebe takes pity on max always having to do the dishes from now on, so she'll cook just a bit more often. chloe doesn't have the heart to tell them that both of them are kind of mediocre in the kitchen. -at one point chloe asks max to let her do something because she knows phoebe would say no and she's hoping he won't do that, and max tells her to ask phoebe, and chloe just goes "because she's the boss of us?" and max just freezes because he knows it's a trap

sorry for the late response!! I had a few busy days and wanted to take some time to reply to this properly! ♡

I love your take on this! I can totally see them grading papers together, phoebe preparing new lesson material for her next class while max is (begrudgingly) going over some files for the principal, etc. I also love the idea of max slipping some of his work onto phoebe's pile and her just slipping it right back! It fits their dynamic perfectly and I think It might be one of my new favorite headcanons for now! I also like to imagine max making sly remarks and off handed comments about whatever phoebe is preparing for class. most of the time he does it just to get a rile out of her, have her engage in some sparring with him or when they've been quiet for too long and he can tell the silence is tugging on their edges, but it's also something everyone in the household loves to joke about. because, let's be honest, the artwork phoebe makes as an example for the children to have something to go by is probably atrocious lol.

I love the idea that phoebe has taken it upon herself to cook more now that max is on dish duty! I think max (before having to take care of a twelve year old) was the kind of guy to put cereal and liquor in a bowl and call it breakfast (or dinner). like that guy has no desire to actually put effort into what he eats. (if he's the one having to make it.) he doesn't care, he'll eat whatever is in his fridge or convenient at the time. (he's basically your typical twenty-something bachelor, living off of god knows what and somehow still breathing despite it.) phoebe on the other hand loves to experiment and try new things. whenever she finds some new exotic fruit or sees a culinary dish online, she ends up researching it to see if she can try and incorporate it into her palette. the problem is... as you mentioned, she's mediocre at best in the kitchen. naturally that doesn't stop her from trying, or reading a thousand cookbooks to help her improve. max and chloe have definitely told her she needs to stop experimenting with their dinner though! if she wants to make it to next week lmao.

phoebe also takes pity on max sometimes and helps him with the dishes. especially if jinx and booch stay over and they have a few extra plates to clean. most of the time it ends up with them sprawled out on the kitchen floor, laughing, their hair sticky with soap, clothes soaked through and the dishes forgotten in the sink.

I love that headcanon! it's so funny because, let's be real, chloe has them wrapped around her little finger and we're all here for it! she knows how to play them both and for some reason they fall for it EVERY TIME. I kind of hope we get to see something like this in an episode! it's already been established that max and phoebe have some different views on parenting and it would make for a great story arc if one of them agrees to something the other is against. it'll cause some friction and tension between them, like how they both go behind each others back to fix chloe's powers in 'faulty powers', and forces them to look at how they want to go about raising chloe and what that means for them as co-parents guardians a little more.

one of the things that came up in my mind is that the twins probably had to get used to the quiet. the thunderman household was very much chaos 24/7; hank's boisterous voice, his tendency to break through the ceiling to get whatever he'd be craving at the time, billy and nora's delighted squeals and laughter as they run around the living room playing laser tag, their witty shenanigans, phoebe's fast paced explanations or the way she's usually snapping at max because of whatever stunt he's pulled now, one of max's inventions detonating, etc. there was never a lot of room for peace in the house. now that it's just them, chloe and colosso, there's a lot less noise. phoebe definitely has a harder time adjusting to the serenity. she's used to the constant motion of their family, the buzz of something always going on. max's lair is soundproof and i think he might prefer the lull of sound sometimes, so he takes to it quicker. the stillness can make phoebe a little restless and she starts humming or turning on the radio as a way to make up for it. max can hear her sing along to some of the songs sometimes, when she's cleaning or cooking or grading papers but doesn't comment on it. he knows she isn't entirely aware she's doing it but he chooses not to rattle her about it.

[sweatytimetravelearthquake]

Your bully has a soft spot for you

The relationship between you and Haitani has always been a bit complicated. On the one hand, he's a bully, always teasing and making fun of you in front of friends. On the other hand, he seems to have a slight weakness for you and always secretly helps when you're in trouble. And you tried to ignore his behavior, but part of you can't help but wonder, "is there more to this?" But you didn't have much time for such questions. You were sitting in class not thinking about the guy, but thinking about not getting a grade below four, because your family was very strict about grades. Okay, physical violence, you get used to it, but it's not possible to get used to moral pressure, it will become a lifelong trauma.

"What are you thinking about, nerd? Me, perhaps?" — He teased you by taking your glasses, which made it difficult for you to see. Your thoughts weren't the brightest. I was just afraid to go home, knowing what I could get for today's top three. And at first you were a little scared when the glasses were taken away and moved forward to pick them up, frowning your gray eyes.

"Ran, please give it back..." — He grinned, handing back your glasses. Then he came up to your ear and whispered something.

"What are you worried about? I'm sure you passed the test well. You never cease to amaze. You don't have to be so hard on yourself," — he ruffled your hair and smiled.

"I only got C... my mother and father will be unhappy."

"Are your parents strict about grades?" — Haitani's expression was surprised and worried for you. He looked around to see if anyone was watching and pulled you towards him. — "Don't worry about it. I think your parents will understand that you just didn't quite understand the topic, and it's not your fault," — he patted you on the back to calm you down and smiled warmly. You looked down, flinching a little.

Ran noticed that your body was shaking and your eyes were filled with sadness when you turned away. You knew that nothing good would come of it, your parents were going to scold you for getting a grade below four. You knew that as soon as you got the results sheet. My throat was dry from stress at that moment, my hands gave up the paper and I had to put a lot of effort into not crying right in class. He put both hands on your shoulder and stared into your gray eyes.

"Hey, listen to me, okay? Don't worry about it too much," — Ran looked at you with a serious smile, showing his true feelings for you, protecting you.

"They'll hit me again..." — Ran took you by both hands, looking into your eyes.

"I promise you, I won't let that happen. I always protect the people I care about," — he ran his fingers through your coffee hair and soothed you in a gentle tone. — "I don't understand why they have to be so strict with you, I think they really overreact to the test... it's not the end of the world if you get a grade below three," — he tried to laugh off his worries, trying to comfort you.

"Do you care about me?.." — I got caught up in his words alone. Haitani was surprised by your sudden question, he felt his heart pounding in his chest. Even if you couldn't see his face, you could feel his smirk.

"Maybe I have some feelings for you," — Ran looked at you with a sly smile, then hugged you tightly to his chest. He hugged you even tighter, his strong arms wrapped around your waist. He held you close and whispered in your ear, his voice sounding hoarse as he spoke. — "I love you.." — He couldn't hold back his true feelings any longer and decided to confess his love to you. — "Will you let me see that test? Maybe I can help with the mistakes?" — He picked up your work and began to look through it carefully, and then his eyes lit up with rage. — "This sheep forgot to count your points for the second part. Don't worry, we'll figure it out now, and you'll have a beautiful D."

______________________________________

A must-read!!!

hey, guys! I know that sometimes various translation jobs can be taken from Tumblr. My native language is not English, I forbid you to take your work for translation, as I already post sketches in my native language.

[spceboyz]

some personal hcs/notes about how i write the dib beast... ( pilot dib // show dib // florpus + comics dib // older teenage dib? ) ↓ ↓ ↓

∙ PILOT DIB

horrible seussian creature. absolute fucking maniac. no redeeming qualities at all. genuinely out for blood. i dont even know why im adding him here because i cant imagine i will ever write him because hes just way, way, way, too unhinged 😭 BUT I GUESS HE CAN BE REQUESTED???

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

∙ SHOW DIB

show dib is a fun one, even though, TECHNICALLY, i haven't written him yet; i tend to lean more towards florpus/comics dib in regards to how i write him on this blog, but i do try to involve some show dib influence in there as well! this dib is also a little freak; commonly antagonizing both zim and any of the other paranormal creatures he comes across. dib seems to lack both sympathy and empathy, often times ignoring other peoples explicit words or emotions. this isn't because he's intrinsically uncaring or immoral; he's just so caught up with himself and his own prerogative that he rarely stops to consider anyone elses thoughts or emotions. despite this inherent selfishness he still desperately craves validation from his family and peers, and is quick to declare himself the only real intellectual while disregarding everyone else who doesn't see eye-to-eye with him.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

∙ FLORPUS/COMICS DIB

ah yes... florpus dib... my most normal (not by much) boy/my default characterization of dib! as i said earlier i tend to default to writing dib at like, 80% florpus influence and 20% show influence; i think its fun to keep dib as vaguely antagonistic but i like it when hes able to feel genuine human pathos as well which is where the florpus inspiration comes in 😭 florpus dib and show dib share a bunch of similarities-- mainly their unquestionable pride and heavy-handed passion, but what makes florpus dib different from the rest is that he is actually susceptible to empathy! :D! hes still generally antagonistic to anything inhuman but moreso in an excitable preteen way and less in a 💥💥📸📸📸 i am going to harvest your organs-kind of way. despite being relatively selfish and easily distractable florpus dib is a somewhat better son/brother and makes a slightly more earnest effort to meet his father half-way and be a better brother-figure to gaz. his rivalry with zim is just as intense and strong, but there are points where he'll be just a 🤏 PINCH friendlier if they have to put aside their differences for a time. this dib is much easier to befriend and is generally a nicer guy, but oooonly if you're human. otherwise hes gonna remain a freak, but he is at least more willing to potentially befriend a monster! it might just take some effort...

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

∙ bonus: older/teenage dib?

the way i write teen dib is based on multiple factors-- namely whoever it is i'm writing against and my own personal hcs 😭 i feel like a canon teenage/YA dib would essentially be the exact same as 12 y/o dib but vaguely more mature, but i characterize him a little differently based on my own personal preference which might feel vaguely ooc but whatever teen dib is basically my oc anyway LOL so, anyways, my teen dib is an exceptionally tall, lanky, vaguely disillusioned vaguely punk/emo kid who is relatively more put-together and a little less of a maniac. somewhere throughout his high school career he decided he should be a better son and brother and started taking on a more responsible and familial role towards his family, doing his best to get good grades to prepare for a job at membrane labs. his fascination with the paranormal is just as strong as ever-- and so is his rivalry with zim, but he just doesn't spend every waking moment anymore trying to capture vampire bees and bigfoot and he treats zim a little less seriously and more friend-like, sometimes letting the alien hitch rides in his backpack so he can scheme while being higher up in the air. teenage dib is more mellow by a longshot, but he's still relatively antisocial and still comes across as generally creepy to his peers. he doesn't desperately crave validation from his fellow classmates as much anymore, and has actually been able to hold onto a very minute selection of like-minded friends. when his homework and studying are done he continues to keep tabs on the swollen eyeball community, as well as plan the rare and occasional ghost hunt. he smokes cigarettes occasionally after turning 17, getting nicotine hookups from his friends, but its something he tries to do in secrecy/something he doesnt do often because of how tricky they are to get underage. despite being more disenchanted as a teenager dibs pride and passion for his interests remain unquestioned and he still plans to achieve his paranormal-investigator goals ( and defeat zim ), just with a full time job on the side.

[starfiresky]

I’m just venting and sharing my personal thoughts. I’m normally a very happy person, but right now I’m so mad. I’m permitted to do activities for science, and the teacher said I’m only allowed to do one art based activity for the entire year? But what if my brain works artistically? I tried to dance around this by making a physical model of a flower and showing how it works on the inside and then doing a separate activity where I drew a mushroom’s lifecycle and wrote a little paper on it. Those are obviously different projects that I put effort into and learned from.

I got points taken off both projects because they included art. What the heck? Why does school hate art? How do I even do a project without art? I’m so confused. Do I just write a paper? I get belittled for doing the things I find enjoyment in. “Don’t draw on your paper. You’re not listening”, “I’ll take points off if you do art.”

There was this time when I was in 4th grade and I doodled on my test while I was thinking about how to answer a problem. The teacher started YELLING AT ME. She took my test, and told all of the kids to start listening class and to never draw in class. Then she erased my doodle and sent me to the counselors office because I was crying. Long story short, this teacher had created lots of problems for a lot of other kids and she ended up getting fired later on.

But my point still stands. Art is important? Hello? What if we belittled mathematicians for doing math problems and yelled at scientists for doing experiments? Science brained people have such a clear path to college and so many opritunities. Artistic people have to blaze their own path while everyone’s telling them they’re gonna fail.

Let’s talk about this

Movies would be so dumb without music. Movies are important in culture! Video games are all about art and music. Video games are a big form of entertainment. Life without art is not a life at all. Look outside? THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE IS ART. The trees, the sun, the grass, wow! Yeah you can explain the beauty of earth with science, but I feel like we keep ignoring the clear companion to science which is art.

Why are creative people being attacked by AI and pushed down by society?

I know this sweet woman who is so skilled at art. She was told she wasn’t gonna make it financially, so she switched her major to engineering. She is so depressed with life. And she doesn’t have the confidence to go back to school and look into an animation job. What if rocket scientists were belittled and told to go become painters? What the heck?

This is so wrong. You know what else is wrong? Art class! In most schools, there’s only one art class! And it’s an elective, not a core class! As if they’re suggesting that art and music is optional and a lesser skill. 😡 In an age where movies and media are such a big part of society… don’t you think the arts are— idk, valuable?

My dad had a best friend who sucked at school because he thought strictly artistically. He was an amazing creator with a HUGE imagination! He was told that he was stupid and dumb because he couldn’t do math, and he failed multiple grades— but he was the greatest artist I have ever seen. He is no longer with us because he took his own life due to feeling like a failure. 💔

Don’t get me wrong, math and science is beautiful and extremely valuable! But I just wish that schools would acknowledge the beauty in the arts too. Life without art would be the most depressing place on earth. No murals, paintings, doodles, orchestras, ballads, visuals, concept art, video game characters, etc. Art is good for the mental health, why is it that so many people are struggling with mental health nowadays? It could be that the world is telling people to suppress their creative side. ❤️

My two cents. If you’re a science and math brained person, that’s totally okay and I love you! 💕 One of my best friends is obsessed with neurology and I hold her in a high degree of respect. My brother wants to become a surgeon, and my Dad is a doctor. Science is extremely important! This is not a hate post on right brained people ❤️❤️❤️ I’m just frustrated at how artists are often treated.

[16naughts]

Dev Log Apr 18 - Pro Tip: This ain't Hollywood. Stick at it.

This is a bit of a rant separate from my normal topics about development here that you'll likely never see again, but I really feel like I can save some people a little bit of heartache with this. My forte is (obviously) the technical side, but this is currently a one-man show, so I also have to draw and animate all of the graphics, compose all of the music, record all of the sound effects, design the stages, and do all of the marketing and business stuff. I can afford to do it because of some extreme planning spanning over a decade and a couple of lucky breaks. But, if you want to go fully indie, you will be doing most of this too at some point. So at this time, since it's still relatively quiet around here and nobody can claim survivorship bias, I really, really want to impress on anybody also considering taking the plunge: Your game is not going to blow up overnight. Ever. Period. The concept of the game dev has been extremely romanticized as this David vs Goliath struggle against the AAA industry, and being tied so closely with the flash-in-a-pan culture that is the internet, it's kind of bled over into mainstream culture as well. The cold reality is that if your game makes it to release, you're in the minority. And then if you can crack 5 sales on your first title within the first year, I'd consider that an overwhelming success. When Crescent Roll released on Steam, I counted 75 other titles released the same day. The fact that we sold any copies at all was a miracle in my eyes, but I'm not getting the same response from anybody else. It's always "what a shame, it looks so nice". And this isn't the schoolyard bully pointing and laughing - it's your friends and family trying to be consoling, but in doing so are inadvertently labeling your efforts a failure. They don't know that it hurts. A lot of people in art communities get it, but a lot of the people in more tech-oriented stuff (like game development) don't seem to experience it quite as much: gaining traction takes time. Pizza Tower? 5 years of development. Marketing for it started before development actually began, as McPig was using Peppino in comics and other games. Terraria? Redigit found his team and an audience working on the fan game Super Mario Bros X. Balatro? LocalThunk had 48 wishlists at the end of the beta. Go read his website. Among Us sat for almost 2 years before blowing up, and Henry Stickman was already popular. Nobody ever bursts onto the scene and just immediately grabbed the world's attention from nowhere. If it looks like they did, you're missing at least half the picture. it will be soul-crushing when nobody wants to play that thing that you spent a year of your life on. But making any kind of art is always a slow burn. The key is going to be persistence. And I don't mean just throwing as much stuff at the wall as you can - pick a direction, put out your best work, and just keep pushing it forward. It doesn't have to be free updates: make more good games, post art, whatever. Keep your presence known. Obviously, this is all talking to the dreamers who have been sketching level concepts in their notebooks since grade school. If you need money, you're really looking in the wrong place. And you should really, really make sure you can take care of yourself financially before venturing out into no-man's land here, 'cause you'll be in the hole for a while. So this isn't so much an inspirational thing, as more of a warning for others considering going full indie - it's tough. You'll need discipline to get there, and then more discipline to keep it up. I thought I was over-prepared for our jumping-off, and we still ended up having to defer features for after release, and still don't have a real trailer yet. So, if your plans require overnight success, you might want to stick with your day job for a bit longer until it doesn't have to. Which it won't. Trust me.

[twstunes]

i lied btw i actually wrote a lot more than 4k words, it's just a matter of getting everything arranged coherently. have more au!

Ramshackle Recruitment AU – periphery opinions

As they are employed at a boarding school for exceptionally gifted teenage mages, the staff of Night Raven College are well-versed in dealing with mayhem. And yet, all of them are finding this year to be one of the most bizarre ones on record. Not even Sam's divination skills could've predicted an extra dorm being added to the lineup.

Let's take a look at how these gentlemen feel about the Ramshackle situation, from least to most approving.

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Characters: Night Raven College staff (+ Sam)

Notes: gn Yuu

Warnings: none, I think?

Mozus Trein, being a very by-the-book type of guy, is entirely against Ramshackle as it currently exists. He feels it’s inappropriate for students to be transferring to a dorm before it’s been officially instated, especially when the dorm building is in such poor condition. It doesn’t help that Yuu apparently started taking on dormmates just to spite a fellow housewarden; that isn’t a decision to be made so lightly.

Beyond chastising them for their recklessness, though, Trein doesn't have any further admonishments for Yuu regarding their dorm. He's more annoyed with Crowley for allowing any of this to happen. Frankly, it was irresponsible for the headmage to place Yuu in the Ramshackle building to begin with. Surely they could have been temporarily situated in one of the actual dorms, at least until adequate long-term housing could be arranged? Sevens, setting them up in a quiet corner of the infirmary would've been better than that deathtrap!

Despite his reputation as a hardass, he'll be surprisingly lenient when grading Yuu so long as they show that they're making an effort to get caught up with their peers. He's typically even more strict with housewardens, as they're meant to represent the entirety of their dorms, but it would be irresponsible of him as a teacher to take that stance here. He'll assign additional homework as needed to discourage students from sleeping in his class, but his lessons are still for learning, not punishing. Even if it was foolish of Yuu to take on a role they weren't prepared for, his job as a professor is to teach them, not throw them in the deep end and let them drown.

There's very little that could convince Trein to visit Ramshackle dorm, at least at first. As the surrounding grounds get cleaned up, he might be inclined to spend some time reading in the garden; he normally prefers the school courtyard, but it can get pretty noisy with all the students bustling about. He won't be caught dead in the Ramshackle building itself, though. Both he and Lucius are a tad too old to go gallivanting about in such a dusty old structure.

(He won't say it, but he's impressed with how well Yuu is doing as housewarden. Like Leona, he expected the whole thing to go up in flames within a matter of weeks. Again, he's not going to say anything about it—even if things turned out well this time around, he doesn't need to be encouraging such rash behavior.)

Divus Crewel agrees with Trein’s points, but refuses to fully back the other professor's argument. He might respect Crowley as his boss, but watching the headmage suffer the consequences of his own actions is too cathartic to pass up. Quite the spirited pup he's taken in, there!

Though he doesn't condemn the existence of the dorm outright, he doesn't refrain from reprimanding Yuu for their 'bad behavior'—the way he sees it, this whole thing started because of some petty drama between Yuu and Riddle. He's not blind to the social nuances of the NRC student body, but he is too old to care about the more trivial aspects of it all. Regardless, Yuu has no business playing at being a housewarden; there's good reason it's nearly unheard of for a freshman to be granted the title, and being magicless puts them at a distinct disadvantage in a mage academy.

���however. If Yuu truly is determined to be a full-fledged housewarden, then he's not about to abide by them slacking off! That's a prestigious mantle they've chosen to take up, and they will comport themselves accordingly! Good thing he's there to whip them into shape. He begins holding them to higher standards, especially in regards to their grades and conduct. Though he means well, he comes across as more officious than usual as a result. No matter how tolerant Yuu is, it doesn't exactly go over smoothly…he can grasp that Yuu themself has no magic easily enough, but it takes a while for it to sink in that they're from a world with Absolutely No Magic.

"Surely you must have learned something about residual and ambient magical energies in middle school. Understanding how to neutralize them, thus preventing them from affecting the formation of chemical bonds, is part of basic lab safet– what do you mean they don't exist?"

Like Trein, Crewel has no interest in visiting Ramshackle dorm. It would take endorsement from a junior like Vil for him to consider dropping by, and even then, he'd only do so to make a cursory inspection of the premises. In a school full of teenage boys, Pomefiore is just about the only dorm where he doesn't have to lecture anyone about proper grooming and self-maintenance; Ramshackle doesn't break the mold at all in that regard. Aside from that, he finds the dorm to be…in acceptable conditions, though there's still plenty of room for improvement. He visits very rarely, and typically forgoes wearing his coat inside, not wanting to chance getting any grime on it.

(It’s petty enough that Crewel won’t admit to it outright, but he’s a little peeved he wasn’t even consulted about designing Ramshackle’s official dorm uniform. What, was his work with the Fairy Gala outfits not good enough? Hmph. Well, he supposes the final uniform design turned out adequate…)

Dire Crowley is getting heckled in the NRC staff groupchat. When he’d described Yuu as a beast-tamer, he’d had no idea they were capable of all THIS. It feels like every time he turns around, there’s been some development with Ramshackle that he’s going to need to do paperwork for. But breaking up the dorm would risk an immense amount of backlash from the students involved, and possibly even from other dorms…truly, he is the most generous headmage NRC has ever had! Hopefully the fact Ramshackle already has uniforms done up will make it easier to get the dorm properly approved and instated…

He really ought to be more cross with Yuu, all things considered. Not only have they caused him a financial headache concerning Ramshackle dorm's food budget, they were impudent enough to not even give him a heads up beforehand! Though…well, he supposes things worked out for the best regarding the debacle with Rosehearts. A healthy imagination is key to becoming a great mage, but it sounds like the Heartslabyul housewarden wasn't allowing for an environment in which imagination could thrive…but still! Just because he granted Yuu the title of prefect doesn't mean they can go about doing whatever they want. Perhaps it's time for him to revise his laissez-faire policy regarding student conflicts?…hmm, no, that feels a bit too extreme.

Despite it all, he still brags to Ambrose LXIII about Yuu, Grim, and Ramshackle once the new dorm breaches public consciousness. He was so wise for seeing their potential and allowing them to enroll, even though one is magicless and the other a monster. Look at how much they've accomplished thanks to his generosity! (He better hope Yuu and Grim don't hear him lmao)

Crowley makes a point of dropping by Ramshackle fairly consistently to check on Yuu and Grim—especially since the last time he went a while without checking in on them, they started a dorm without telling him. He gets frustratingly good at evading being dragged into the dorm's daily Shenanigans™ despite how often he visits, but he'll often lose track of time if someone strikes up a conversation with him. It's a running joke amongst Ramshackle students to ask Crowley if he's found a way to send Yuu home whenever they spot him at the dorm…though, after a point, most of them don't want to hear a "yes" in response.

(It's not becoming of him, so he won't say anything about it, but Crowley can't say for certain that he doesn't regret letting Yuu and Grim enroll. Yes, yes, it's wonderful how much they've achieved, but did they really have to give him so much extra work in the process?? Just thinking about how to word the inevitable press announcement explaining the formation of Ramshackle dorm gives him a headache.)

Ashton Vargas, by some miracle, is the most Actually Helpful of the teachers. He thinks it’s fantastic that students are taking the initiative to challenge themselves! AND they’re learning teamwork while they’re at it! Just…Trein’s not wrong about Ramshackle being in rough shape. Living there is barely different from camping outdoors. ("Does he get the idea for Camp Vargas from–" haha yeah)

Vargas will regularly check in with Yuu about any concerns regarding the dorm building’s structural integrity. He’s no architect, but he knows how to safely handle power tools! He can take care of any heavy lifting that needs to be done, too! If it gives him a chance to show off and brag, he’s all for it. He canonically maintains the sports field by himself, so he probably has some good advice for cleaning up the grounds around Ramshackle as well. That doesn't mean he's going to do all the work himself, of course—anyone he catches lazing about the dorm gets dragged along with him. It's good strength training!

He also makes sure the dorm has basic safety equipment on-hand, like fire extinguishers and first aid kits. Even a pro like him has to be mindful of training accidents, after all! He's always proud to see students pushing their limits, but he's watched far too many people torch their athletic careers (and long-term physical health) by pushing themselves too hard. It's uncommon for him to give full-on lectures—he's just not the type to drag things out when a "quit doing that" will do—but anyone he catches trying to brush off a significant injury gets treated to a rare, ultra-serious lecture from him.

Due to being so involved in the dorm's restoration, Vargas is the most likely to visit Ramshackle out of NRC's staff. He'll often tag along if he happens to catch Crowley heading over to check on Yuu and Grim, though he's yet to successfully rope the headmage into doing any strength training. Being a bit childish at heart, he'll sometimes lend a hand to whatever tomfoolery the Ramshackle students get up to…so long as it's school-appropriate, that is! He doesn't need another lecture from Trein.

(Vargas won't own up to it, but he wants Yuu, Grim, and the rest of Ramshackle to view him as better than Sam, who is pretty much his sole competition for the title of "Most Helpful." He was already a tad jealous of the shopkeeper's wide skillset, so his competitive streak has him putting in a little more effort to help out around the dorm than he would've otherwise. Since this pseudo-rivalry exists solely inside Vargas' head, Sam has no clue about any of it.)

Sam is living it up. His Friends on the Other Side haven’t been this excited about school-related events since he’d first set up shop on campus. And, since he’s the #1 supplier of Anything And Everything at NRC, he’s been getting a lot of business as the Ramshackle students work to patch up their dorm building! He’s not about to start giving away things for free, but he IS willing to cut some deals on tools and construction materials.

Honestly, he's a little annoyed with how little money Crowley seems to be investing into repairing the dorm building. Cheaping out on infrastructure is a fast way to create a money sink. He's not one to rock the boat too much, but he'll poke and prod to see if he can get Crowley to put a little more cash into restoration efforts. Surely it wouldn't hurt to speed the process up a bit? No point in letting the imps languish. Nevermind the fact it's all profit for Sam either way–

Capitalism aside, he does grow to care about the industrious little imps after a while. Taking a gamble on a complete unknown by transferring to Ramshackle, helping out others for the sake of pursuing their own goals…his Friends are quick to joke that Sam would've jumped to join in on the fun had he been a student, and he can't really say he disagrees! Hearing about all the hijinks going on over at Ramshackle is welcome entertainment, especially when business at the shop is slow.

Sam is typically too busy running the school store to visit Ramshackle himself, but he might make an exception for a dire enough situation. As it stands, he gets his Friends to keep a specific eye or three on the dorm in case any emergencies crop up. If he just so happens to have just the right tool for the job front & center (and on sale for a deep discount) when Yuu rushes in…well, that’s simply Mr. S’ gold-quality customer service in action.

(Sam keeps it on the down-low, but he genuinely does worry about Yuu and Grim. The headmage is a good customer, but he's not someone Sam would want to be financially dependent on. Those two imps at least have the relative safety of attending NRC, but neither of them have much in the way of a support system. He'd certainly been in a bad spot himself when he'd first sought out Those on the Other Side, so he's glad Yuu and Grim seem to be building decent lives for themselves without having to make any Friends of their own.)

✧ ✧ ✧

A/N: might as well be trying to squeeze blood from a stone the way I'm trying to approximate staff personalities from what little content we get of them,,,, for Sam I'm just doing whatever I want tho lmao

[southernbelllle]

Upham hcs maybe??

Timothy Upham Headcannons

Word Count: 1.6k

AN: Shout out Jeremy Davies he looks like a baby bird that fell out of its nest and it's up to me to nurse him back to health.

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Timothy Upham is a quiet, composed man.

He can be awkward, sure but after his time in the service, he wears a newfound confidence!

Don't get me wrong, he's still the shy little soldier you'd came to love,

but he feels transformed, like a caterpillar to a butterfly.

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You two met in his class.

After the war, he decided the best method of distraction for him was to jump back into life before the war.

Doing something, he was actually good at.

He was so inspired by Capt. Miller, and his teaching methods

(that I believe at some point toward the end of their mission, they actually got to talk about the profession,)

That he took up a job teaching European Lit. in a pretty prestigious college.

He was one of the youngest professors to teach, but his talent was undeniable, and his knowledge was tenfold.

I like to think he was probably a cool 24 or 25 after the war.

You, were a senior at the college wanting to learn more about European literature, because you were advanced in your knowledge of American lit.

You walked into his class, textbook in hand, ready to wow another professor with your devotion to the subject.

He was scanning the names in his class roster, anxiously preparing for what this semester would bring, tiny circle lensed glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose.

And then he got a glimpse of you.

You marched in with proud strides,

(and a very appealing face,)

Upham had a whole new reason to be nervous.

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As the semester went on, you and Upham would exchange curious glances at each other, but only when the other wasn't looking.

When he would give his lectures, he wouldn't look at you.

He as a professor, needed to maintain a level of composure and neutrality.

You broke that composure.

A light pink dusted his cheeks when his brown eyes looked up to meet yours.

Still the Timothy Upham he'd been before all of the trauma of war,

he couldn't speak to you without a stutter, and rarely ever in a tone that could be deemed "loud."

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He couldn't lie; he made his exam hard.

This test was a "survival of the fittest" situation.

Only the ones who paid attention, did the time, and put in the effort would make it out alive.

And normally, that would've been you, but ever so distracted by the cute professor...

you got your first C.

Absolutely enraged, you stomped to his office with your "grade" in hand.

The knock you thrust upon his door made his shoulders jump back in cruel surprise.

"C-Come in." He called.

You threw the door open and marched to his desk, slamming your exam down against the varnished wood of his desk.

"What the hell is this?" You prodded.

"That would be your final exam grade, and might I add that is no way to speak to your-" "I never get C's. I've been an A student my entire life. You must've graded it incorrectly."

"Well that is true," he admitted.

"So you'll fix it? Take another look at the short answer portion of my exam?"

"No, I didn't mean that part." He took the exam from your hands. "Technically, you didn't make a C. You made an F. You failed.

You were shocked into silence.

"What?" you gasped.

"Yes, your short answer was underwhelming, your multiple choice was generally incorrect, and your essay portion was to be written, not typed."

Once again, you stood across from him in shock.

"You do posses the qualities of a banner student however, so I granted you the few extra points that would take you from failing to passing."

You looked at him up and down, chest heaving in anger.

"Although, you did seem a bit, distracted...during some of the lectures." He led on, hoping to maybe bait you into a confession.

He had suffered, his dreams of you during the darkness of the night were less than that of a professor and a student.

He was almost, ashamed, although there was nothing to be ashamed of.

You were both well into adulthood, hell at most, he was two years older than you, but he still felt guilty.

"I'm sorry Professor Upham, I don't know what you mean."

"Are you sure?" Was all he asked, leaning over his desk to get closer to you.

It was your turn to blush; this was a moment straight out of your dreams too. It didn't feel real.

Ever the control freak,

(and ever eager to impress your professor)

you caught the cue and grabbed his face in a kiss.

It was passionate, and sloppy. He struggled to keep up with you.

And when it was done, he'd asked you to come back to his place, since in the eyes of the college, he wasn't your professor anymore.

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Ever the educational lover, dates with Upham consisted of museums, orchestral viewings, and library trips.

You two would take turns sharing your favorite stories and texts.

One night, he took you to go see George Bizet's "Carmen."

You both dressed up in your finest evening attire.

Upham, now having made the decision to wear his glasses all of the time, gifted you a matching pair of opera binoculars.

You two matched each other's nerdy-freak like that.

Before bed, he'd read you passages of his favorite novels as you tiredly hugged his torso.

His voice as low and quiet as a swan's gentle glide through a brook.

When he'd felt your breathing even out, he'd kiss the tender skin of your temple and blow out the candle illuminating your room.

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You two eloped privately at the courthouse.

Your union being so sacred that you both decide that its only right to celebrate on your own.

He wore a nice tux with a poppy pinned to his breast pocket as an indirect way of having his fallen brothers attend such an important day.

You dressed up as well, marveling at how adorable your Timothy looked in his nice clothes.

After all of the documents were signed, he took you to the most expensive restaurant he could find.

He had struck gold; it was only fair that he treated you as such.

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He never misses an opportunity to kiss you.

He had his fair share of watching life pass by,

(and in some cases of his hesitation, away.)

When he does attach his lips to yours, he kisses you like it's the last time.

He knows the fragility of life, how quickly it fleets.

He would bring the palm of one hand to the small of your back, and the other just under your shoulder blade.

Things would also get surprisingly heated between the two of you, Upham would usually chock it up to "making up for lost time," but in reality, he's just really crazy about you.

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He's riddled with survivor's guilt.

He beats himself up over it all of the time.

He replays every instance of him not being able to save one of his brothers, all of the time.

He weeps quietly, attempting to not bother you with his woes.

But you remind him each time that you truly love him and yearn for him to develop a healthy mind.

You just want him to open up and talk about it.

But you know that you'll never be able to give him the relief he so desperately needs.

So, you call up some folks who can.

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Reiben knocked on your door with a case of beers in hand.

"Hello, Richard!" You'd greeted. You looked down to the six pack that hung from his fingers.

"Thirsty?" You asked sarcastically.

"Trust me," his thick Brooklyn accent spat, "if we get to tawlkin' 'bout our time overseas we'll be needin' it."

You showed him to the foyer.

Ryan arrived not to soon after. He came clad with a bouqet of flowers and a bag of oranges.

"Thank you for inviting me," He'd greeted. "I was wondering how ole' Timmy was holding up." He had an infectious smile.

You took him to where Reiben sat.

"Well, holy shit," Reiben announced, "looks like I've found Private Ryan!" The two embraced like brothers returning home after a long trip away.

When Upham arrived home, you took him to the room where his fellow vets sat.

Upon seeing them, Upham felt gentle tears begin to fall again. He was so happy to see the men, to talk about the horrors they'd endured.

They greeted each other with giddy joy, ready to catch up with one another.

Mostly though, he was grateful to you.

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[noturvlentine]

im not someone to miss (pt2)

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Leon Kennedy x reader series

Summary [series]- after Chris Redfield has requested for your transfer from the BSAA, you’re tasked with uncovering a chain of bio-terrorist attacks alongside Leon Kennedy. Destruction, duty and your untold past brings you spiralling into an unlikely bond with your partner, as efforts are made and promises are broken.

im back! sorry I haven’t been as alive as the past two weeks, school has really caught wind of assignments but updates are coming!!!!! Bear with me while I write up the rest of my vague plans for this series and I apologise if these time skips make no sense at all!!

Please don’t copy my work anywhere else!! this will be up in ao3 too!!! -j

1.9k words

part 1

part 3

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Washington DC

A particular apartment block

21:00PM

2009

You arrived home to a small, tactical grade duffle bag sitting on your doormat. You half-expected them to provide you with nothing more than necessary, but seeing as STRATCOM was no BSAA, their gear had been rather sophisticated to say the least. They had given you 400 hours to gather any intel from a country in Eastern Europe, which meant you had a little over two weeks stuck with Leon in some dusty safe-house apartment with minimal contact with anyone else (not like you had anyone worth reaching out to outside of work anyway). 400 hours- thats only if things went smoothly, in which, they never do. You’d be there for a month at the minimum guarantee and you were meant to escort a contact to a private exchange of resources they managed to snatch off the black market. If the deal went smoothly then at least the government can put their pretentious, expensive lab research to use with their hands on a sample of some B.O.W strains.

You managed to drag yourself into your apartment, keys thrown onto the kitchen counter as your first thought was to pour yourself a drink and burn a cigarette. You weren’t a drinker- correction, you weren’t an alcoholic, nor were you a smoker. It’s just that there was no one here to monitor you and you easily and cowardly blamed it on your job, but instead you just seemed to have revolved around whatever harmless substance was at your disposal for the time being- amongst other things. You’d always kind of lived your domestic life on autopilot, barely putting in a second thought to whether you actually needed to change the way you lived, whether you needed other things in your existence- or someone else, but who were you kidding, a pet maybe?. You were never the type to give someone a call back either- to be fair you never really stayed, hence why a drink and a smoke followed by a warm shower was all you really desired. You slumped yourself down on the chair at your dining table, not bothered turning any overhead lights on in return, just letting the gracious moonlight escape into the room. Your fingers traced the yellow folder you’d brought home from work today, the other hand going numb from the cold condensation of a beer bottle. You sat there for a good two hours, an unwise decision seeing as you still wanted to waste away in the shower and needed to be organised for departure tomorrow. Not to say, sleep wasn’t ever on your side either.

Under the sting of your hot shower, you couldn’t help but think of how exactly you ended up here. Eight long years of anti-bioterrorist service just for Redfield to temporarily ‘discharge’ you from the BSAA for your little let down back in South America (to be fair, no one had ever decided you were discharged, but the leave and subsequent transfer had been the equivalent of that in your eyes). Was he even going to let you back in on the field with him? You weren’t about to become an office personnel in your line of work after this mission, to be honest you thought it would be the hands-on equivalent of death- to spend years in training in both the military and special operations only to end up in the chain of responsive command for an XO you didn’t quite get along with. Not to mention- having to filter through everyone’s field reports and paperwork after Redfield just hypothetically offed the industrial section of a city. Nonetheless, you were at least grateful to still be working field for the time being, it may not be alongside Chris Redfield and the BSAA, but it was still something of the equivalent. You were enjoying what might be the last comfortable shower for the next month or so (something small to deal with considering the various lengthy deployments you’d been on previously), taking time to let the sprays of water loosen your muscles. If you were completely honest, you would enjoy a permanently domestic, normal civilian life either. Something simple as a long, warm shower would become tedious once it becomes frequented and unthreatened as civilians are. Maybe the loss in commodity value was an excuse for you to work this job until death. Or maybe death came closer, and maybe you’d already accepted that.

Your mind skipped to Leon, or rather what he was doing, then to what he’d think of you once he knew you too well (or if he ever will). After all, two weeks is a long time to be stuck with someone on your tail, in the same safe house flat, going over the same shit and waiting for something life threatening to occur. You’d feared that when you’d first gravitated towards the BSAA, scared that you were going to let someone in (arguably, you’d always defended Chris as your bond came from the sentimental value of your jobs) and that they were going to come to the inevitable realisation that you were both fucked and would soon wound up dead on the field somewhere. That was definitely something harder for others to compute, as you’d accepted your death ages ago and were only ever waiting for people the catch up, hence why you’d think Leon would actually hate you.

South America

BSAA outstation

14:00PM

December 2008

‘Fuck! Goddamn it!’ Chris throws his fist into the crumbly stone pillar to his right. ‘We are sending in backup immediately-‘

‘Redfield that is not of your command, we’re not taking that risk-‘ petty, for anyone to want to argue with Chris Redfield. He’s always been full charged if not spewing out electricity by the second in the heat of the moment, head and heart. There was no negotiation. He knew first hand how shitty it was to go into a mission without support, albeit you did have ‘support’, yes- but it was a matter of if the goddamn CO would agree.

‘I’m not asking. That is one of our best agents tied up in there and you’re not gonna find another.’ To anyone else that tone alone would have them pissing their pants running under Redfield’s control, maybe this was why everyone was always cleaning up after him.

‘I’m going in.’ He mumbled, a stern one, signalling to his team to pack it forwards beyond their assigned parameters.

‘Patch me through.’ The next thing you know, your name is repeated frantically over the comms. Redfield’s voice is stern, searching, worrisome, but stern in his best I-am-your-captain commandment way. As his voice became more desperate you managed to free a hand for the radio.

‘Chris you better turn the fuck around.’ You groaned through your teeth, dropping down to your knees behind a collapsed brick wall. There was currently a wave of bioterrorist minions on your six and a massive B.O.W making its way through the maze of collapses infrastructure ready to pull you head off your neck the moment you’re seen in the line of fire. They had dogs two, all three parties together would be more than the current BSAA deployment had issued in the area and the next few surrounding countries. It amazes you how much terrorism groups can out number the fucking military, how many people are willing to sign themselves up to suicide compared to those who enlist in the army. They’re probably not cowards like the rest of the world that’s for sure.

‘I can get you my final intel order but if you fucking surpass that parameter-‘

‘I am not leaving you out there.’

‘I’m dead! I’m fucking dead Chris!’

The line goes silent, you can hear him thinking over the static of the radio. He had no purpose in sending rescue, you were a valuable asset, but the job was finished and there was enough evidence for the FBC to deploy troops to other locations and carry out necessary protocols to prevent whole countries from collapsing. The South American sun was starting to get its way with you, there was dust thickening through the air and you could hear firing in the near distance, which was enough for you to pull yourself up from you current location. Shots fired, straight your way and heard through the radio. You were scrambling for shelter around this abandonment of a city block, you shad two magazines left which you knew wouldn’t last for nearly enough time before an evac squad gets here.

Washington DC

Joint Base Andrews

12:30PM

2009

The pilot had just announced takeoff over the PA system. You watched the runway shrink into small grey veins over patchy land as the plane gained altitude. You could also see Leon’s impulsive leg tapping in your peripheral vision, his eyes settled in examining your body language as you pretended not to notice. His arms were crossed, disinterested by anything outside or in the cabin as his mind was purely focused on figuring you out. Out of annoyance, you turn your head, dropping your hand which was once propping your chin up, onto the armrest by the window.

‘What?’ You blinked at Leon.

‘Nothing, you look tired.’ He simply shrugs. Well that’s little to say for someone who’s been peeling your complexion apart for the past five minutes. You don’t respond, dropping your gaze to his bouncing leg, which stops upon your eyes settling on it. Your hand was now wrapped tightly around the bulge of the armrest, fingers slowly digging into the fabric and picking at the seams. Something about Leon’s all-too-understanding way of looking at you just didn’t sit right. He wasn’t one to remind you of your troubles but in every way, he did, and you can’t blame him for that. A faint rustling sound traveled towards you as he shifted in his seat, now more relaxed as his head hung back towards the headrest, still arms crossed and looking at you softly. Oh how you wished a little turbulence would break up this awkward exchange, you couldn’t argue that there was anything interesting other than fogs of cloud infecting your view.

Three hours into the flight and it was approaching night across the time zones. You’d irresponsibly gone through two glasses of rum and coke to ease your nerves, to which earned you a scoff and hum of amusement from Leon. Thought he was insistent on getting more than three words out of you, there was nothing he could do about your isolated bitterness and he figured that you’d melt along with time. You watched as the sky had lost its sunset, turning into an inevitable, cartoonish night.

‘Get some sleep will you?’

No answer, you pouted and went back to staring out the window. The emptiness plagued the entire sky and all that could be seen was the annoying red eye on the wing of the plane. Leon pushed his following words back into his throat, and left it at that for the rest of the evening before your subsequent arrival. You watched as he quietly dozed off for the next two hours, leaving you with a sense of peripheral comfort.

AN: this chapter is a little slow i know, it’s getting there. I’m also trying to keep my formatting consistent but I’m not sure how well that’s working atm 😂