#so i may as well post it/do something with it

[goddamnitmahtin]

Danny’s Designer Friend

Okay so hear me out. Danny jumps universes a lot right? It’s a part of running errands for Clockwork. He may be the Ghost king but since he was Clockwork’s mentee at the same time, he had to run time errands sometimes. It took him to some really interesting places.

Some places had magic, some didn’t. Some had heroes that used their own devices and some had heroes that used magical artifacts to manifest abilities. Some didn’t have heroes at all. Some universes had lots of technology and some were working to catch up. And obviously, Danny had his favorites. And he had his favorite people from each.

So…. Danny had an idea.

…

Bruce looked around suspiciously, alert to any dangers that may be in the area. He and all of his children were on duty when all of a sudden he ended up in a modern mansion of sorts with an indoor waterfall.

“What in the world-?” He heard Tim say as Red Robin appeared as well.

“Oi-!” from a surprised Spoiler as she appeared.

Sword slashing noises as Robin appeared, apparently trying to slice the air, “What is this trickery!”

Next Duke in his pajamas and Nightwing appeared, landing on top of one another. “Get your sweaty ass off me,” Bruce heard his son say as he pushed his older brother off of him.

“GUYS!” Oracle called as she fell. She had teleported in but her chair didn’t seem to have come with her. Red Robin and Spoiler caught her just in time.

Orphan appeared silently.

Then Oracle’s wheelchair popped in, dropping onto Signal just as he had stood up. “Oh come on!” he exclaimed as a post it note apology appeared on his forehead. Presumably for forgetting the chair.

Lastly, Red Hood appeared, guns out and ready to fire. That is, if only he had anything to fire at. He quickly put them away once he realized it was only the bats and birds. The others wouldn’t have noticed it but behind his helmet, Jason was wide eyed, noticing the post it note. He only knew of two entities that used that form of communication and one meant something significantly better than the other.

After a few moments of Red Robin and Spoiler helping Oracle into her chair, footsteps could be heard approaching. Everyone tensed, ready for a fight. Except Red Hood who could feel his core tugging at him familiarly.

Two people approached. First person they were able to see was Danny. He had decided to show up in his kingly glory, his ceremonial cloak billowing behind him. As he got closer, they could see a very short woman with black hair and round glasses smoking a cigarette walking with him. Despite Danny being a king, she was the one in charge.

The woman walked up to the group with a judgmental look, “Every one of you. When I point, you tell me your title and occupation. Go.”

Nobody said anything.

“You guys better do what she says,” said Danny chuckling. Their faces so far were hilarious.

Slowly, the family obliged, starting with Red Hood.

“I go by Red Hood. I’m a crime lord. And a vigilante I guess,” Jason said. He knew enough to know they weren’t in any danger.

The others followed along until finally it got to Bruce, “I’m Batman. Vigilante.”

The short woman scoffed and immediately started pointing out the flaws in everyone’s outfits, “You all look ridiculous! What is that, bunny ears? And you! Red, green and yellow are far too many colors! You look like a traffic light! You! Those shoes are impractical and appalling! Do any of you know what style is?!”

She walked up to Duke, “I have seen photos of your suit and it is disgusting! Too bright!”

She gestured wildly to the group, “And NO CAPES!”

The woman then went up to Red Hood, “You are perfect darling, practical and filled with personality. You are my favorite.”

Danny chuckled, “He’s my favorite too.” The king shot a knowing smirk to Jason who under his helmet blushed from the comment.

“I am designing you all new suits right away!” the woman exclaimed with a wild look in her eye.

Danny couldn’t help but start laughing at this point. The looks on everyone’s faces were pure gold. This was the best idea he had literally ever had.

“I can’t wait to see it Edna. I can pay for it too,” the king said, sneaking a glance at Red Hood, “Anything for future in-laws.”

[yaniluvs]

“nerds don't date , right?”

[ 정인 ] ✷ ‎. . flirting with the chic nerd turns into something else ?

۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑛erdy!jeongin ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑓em!reader ˙ . ꒷ g. fluff , humour , crack , forced proximity , classmates to lovers , uni au , fake dating , skz ensemble . 32OOw. ⎯⎯⎯ LiBRARY ⟢ cw. suggestive , as of now . ┆ 📹 ⋮ a y.jg mini series .ᐟ ֹ ₊

yani's note 𑁍ࠬܓ happy jeongin day! <3 thought this fic will end up too long (no surprise there..) so instead i'm turning into another series. ik i update all my series very slowly BUT listen, i will post freq. for this since it's a mini series !! this is pretty fast-paced, for the first chapter though. the upcoming ones may be slow-paced and not rush tho hehe. comments, likes, req./asks and reblogs are always appreciated !! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading, love <3

the autumn air was crisp, golden leaves swirling across the university courtyard as students hurried to their morning classes. the faint scent of coffee and fallen leaves lingered in the air, mixing with the distant hum of chatter and footsteps against cobblestone paths. it was the kind of morning that made people pause for a second, taking in the poetry of the season—well, people who weren’t already running late.

you weren't late, but you sure weren’t in a rush either. the café near the library had just handed over your classic hot cocoa, still warm against your palms, and the world felt like it was moving at a slow, dreamy pace.

that was, until a familiar figure cut through the crowd like a scene straight out of a high-fashion editorial.

yang jeongin.

jeongin, the so-called nerd, of at least your year. the one with the perfect grades, the sharp jawline, and the ever-present black glasses perched on his nose. the one people assumed spent all his time buried in textbooks, immune to the chaos of university life. except, he wasn’t just a nerd—he was a walking contradiction.

because if jeongin was just a nerd, why was he stepping onto campus dressed like he belonged on a runway?

today, it was a black oversized blazer with a fitted turtleneck, silver rings glinting against his slender fingers as he adjusted the leather strap of his bag. his glasses sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose, giving him an air of quiet arrogance, like he knew he looked good but didn’t care enough to acknowledge it.

his dark hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d just stepped out of bed looking effortlessly perfect. and the way he walked—like the world was just a backdrop, and he was the main character—made people stare without even realizing they were doing it.

jeongin definitely had an idgaf attitude, you had thought when you first shared a class. not towards his studies—no, he was practically married to academic excellence—but towards people.

he didn’t care for the unnecessary drama, the loud parties, or the fleeting conversations about nothing. he had a small, trusted circle and didn’t entertain anyone outside of it.

which was exactly why you found it so fun to mess with him.

“morning, topper,” you called out, stepping in line with him as he made his way toward the lecture hall. “where’s the rest of your nerd squad?”

jeongin barely spared you a glance. “not a nerd,” he replied smoothly.

“yeah?” you sipped your cocoa, unfazed. “you literally corrected our professor’s math last week.”

“he was wrong,” the guy shrugged.

“yeah, but who does that?”

“a person who values accuracy,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching slightly.

you simply grinned, as you walked alongside him. your friend group always teased you for hanging around jeongin, saying you were probably the only person brave enough to bother the university’s golden boy.

he wasn’t mean, exactly, but he had a way of making people feel like they weren’t worth his time.

which was true regardless.

still, you had made it your personal mission to crack his icy exterior.

“so,” you continued, “you ever been on a date, topper?”

he slowed his pace. it was so brief that most people wouldn’t have noticed, but you caught the slight hesitation before he turned to you, raising a perfectly shaped brow.

“what?”

“a date. you know—dressing up, awkward small talk, trying to impress someone so they don’t ghost you after?” you clarified, voice laced with amusement.

jeongin adjusted his glasses, looking unimpressed. “i know what a date is.”

“great! so, have you been on one?”

for a second, he just stared at you, dark eyes unreadable behind his lenses. then, in a tone so nonchalant it almost sounded careless, he said, “no.”

you almost choked on your drink. “wait, seriously?”

he continued walking, unfazed. “yeah. why? is that surprising?”

“duh?” you huffed, catching up. “you’re, like, weirdly hot for a nerd. i thought people would be throwing themselves at you.”

he scoffed. “that’s the problem. i don’t care about people throwing themselves at me.”

you tilted your head. “then what do you care about?”

he continued walking, completely nonchalant as he gazed up. the morning sun caught the silver of his rings as he slipped his hands into his pockets, tilting his head slightly.

“why?” he mused, voice smooth as ever. “you wanna change that?”

you blinked. for the first time, you were the one caught off guard.

because jeongin wasn’t looking at you with his usual passive expression. no, there was something in his gaze—something sharp, something challenging, something that almost looked like interest.

and you, for the first time in your life, had no idea what to say.

flirting with a nerd shouldn’t be this hard.

the crisp morning air suddenly felt warmer.

you were not the type to get flustered easily, but the way jeongin had just looked at you—head tilted, hands in his pockets, voice smooth as hell—all the while walking straight ahead as if he hadn't just lowkey flirted with you—wasn’t fair.

it wasn’t nerdy. it wasn’t normal. it wasn’t jeongin.

since when did nerds flirt back?

you narrowed your eyes, stepping closer to mask your sudden loss of composure. “that sounded like a challenge.”

“maybe it is.”

you blinked. okay. this was new territory. you were used to jeongin rolling his eyes at you, shutting down your playful jabs with a bored look. not this. not him flipping the script so effortlessly.

but two could play that game.

“well, topper,” you hummed, leaning in slightly, “if you want me to take you on a date, you should just say so.”

his smirk didn’t waver, but you caught the quick flicker of his eyes—the way they darted to your lips before meeting your gaze again. he adjusted his glasses, his fingers briefly brushing against the silver rings.

“i don’t recall saying that,” he mused.

you grinned. “you didn’t deny it, though.”

jeongin exhaled through his nose, amused, before turning back toward the lecture hall. “come on. we’re already late.”

you watched him walk ahead, your heartbeat a little too loud in your ears.

what the hell just happened?

— inside the lecture hall

the class was already half-full when you and jeongin entered, the air buzzing with lazy morning energy. some students were half-asleep, slumped over their desks, while others were whispering about weekend plans.

the professor hadn’t arrived yet, but the massive whiteboard was already filled with equations from an earlier class—long, intimidating numbers that you barely had the mental energy to comprehend.

you spotted your some of your friends near the middle rows. felix, ryujin, and yeji were sitting together, with an empty seat next to the blonde. across the hall, the nerd's own 'gang'—jisung, hyunjin, seungmin, aeri and yunah—was all huddled near the front.

as you slid into the seat next to felix, he raised an eyebrow. “you were talking to jeongin again?”

“yeah?”

he leaned in, lowering his voice. “bae. people actually think he hates, like, everyone.”

you scoffed, unbothered. “well, i’m built different.”

ryujin, who was casually scrolling on her phone, smirked. “or maybe you just like hot twi— nerds.”

“he's not tw—”

yeji cut you off, nudging the other two. “what’s the bet again?”

felix only grinned. “y/n would either break jeongin’s cold exterior or completely embarrass herself trying.”

“so far, it’s leaning toward the second one.”

you groaned, shoving felix’s arm. “so i'm as valuable as a bet now?”

meanwhile, across the room, jeongin was already in his seat, casually flipping through his notes. jisung nudged him with an exaggerated smirk.

“was y/n hitting on you again?”

jeongin adjusted his glasses. “probably.”

seungmin, looking unimpressed, leaned back in his chair. “and you just let her?”

jeongin shrugged. “she's entertaining.”

aeri cackled. “you so have a crush.”

“i don’t.”

“right, right.” jisung rolled his eyes. “that’s why you’re smirking to yourself like a roblox character right now?”

jeongin’s smirk immediately disappeared. “shut up.”

— after class, the campus café

after suffering through an hour of math (or thriving through it, if you were jeongin), you found yourself at the campus café, sipping on some watermelon juice you had gotten. the café was a cozy little spot near the library, filled with the soft hum of conversations and the clinking of coffee cups. the warm lighting made the wooden interior glow, and the air smelled like cinnamon and espresso.

you were sitting with felix and ryujin when jeongin entered.

of course, he looked annoyingly good again.

and of course, he had changed his attire after class.

noon's outfit: a fitted cream turtleneck under a tailored charcoal gray coat, paired with black trousers and sleek leather boots. his silver rings caught the light as he pushed his glasses up, scanning the menu like he wasn’t aware half the café was stealing glances at him.

you sighed dramatically. “does he ever look bad?”

felix smirked. “that’s what you’re worried about?”

“no, i’m worried about myself, because apparently, i’m developing a thing for well-dressed nerds.”

ryujin raised an eyebrow. “oh? so you admit it?”

at that moment, jeongin’s gaze flickered over to you. your eyes met. and instead of just nodding or ignoring you like usual, he did something that nearly made you drop your drink.

he smiled.

not a smirk. not a teasing glance. a smile. dimples and all.

you blinked, stunned.

felix leaned in, whispering, “oh. you’re so done for.”

and for the second time today, you really had nothing to say.

the art of losing (to a nerd).

jeongin had smiled at you.

not a smirk, not an i’m-better-than-you glance, but an actual smile. dimples, soft eyes, the whole deal.

you were losing your mind.

“i—what—he—” you sputtered, gripping your juice like it held the answers to the universe. “did he just smile at me?”

felix sipped his iced coffee with an amused look. “yup.”

ryujin smirked, barely glancing up from her phone. “congratulations. you’re officially the first person outside of his nerd cult to get that privilege.”

“oh lord.”

across the café, jeongin had already turned back to the counter, unfazed. he ordered his usual—black coffee, no sugar—before casually making his way to a corner booth. he moved so effortlessly, extremely nonchalant.

you, however, were still stuck on that smile.

what did it mean? was he just being polite? was he messing with you? did he—

felix snapped his fingers in front of your face. “hello? earth to y/n? you’re staring.”

you blinked. “i am not.”

ryujin raised an eyebrow. “you totally are.”

felix leaned in, grinning. “wait. wait. are you blushing?”

“no.”

“you’re so done for,”

“first stage of denial: over.”

“i hate the both of you.”

. . .

a few days later, you were at the campus library, attempting to study. spoiler: it wasn’t going well.

the problem?

a nerd sitting across from you.

it wasn’t planned. you had been minding your own business, laptop open, notes spread out, when jeongin had materialized in front of you, dropping his books onto the table with an air of casual dominance.

“reserved seats don’t exist,” he had said when you had gaped at him.

so now, here you were. stuck at the same table, trying (and failing) to ignore each other.

you tapped your pen against your notebook, sneaking a glance at him. he was focused, dark eyes scanning the textbook like it was the most interesting thing in the world. his glasses slid down slightly, and he absentmindedly pushed them back up with a knuckle.

how was it possible for a nerd to look so effortlessly cool?

“you’re staring.”

you flinched. “observing.”

jeongin didn’t even look up. “creeping.”

you huffed, crossing your arms. “you are so full of yourself.”

a smirk. “you’re the one staring, not me.”

you scowled, ready to retort, when an idea hit them. a terrible, wonderful idea.

you leaned in slightly, lowering your voice. “you know,” you mused, “if you ever need a break from all that.. nerding, i can take you on a date.”

jeongin finally looked up, raising a brow. “are you seriously flirting with me in the library?”

“why? is it working?”

a pause. then—

jeongin leaned in too.

too close. close enough that you caught the faint scent of his cologne—something woody, expensive, unfairly attractive.

“you tell me,” he murmured.

your brain short-circuited.

felix was right. you were so done for.

. . .

you had two rules in life.

1. never get involved in unnecessary drama. 2. never—ever—fall for a nerd.

unfortunately, han jisung existed solely to ruin both of those.

the set-up (aka jisung's dumb idea)

"so, uh… i kind of need a favor."

jisung plopped down beside you in the campus café, grinning like he hadn’t just uttered the most dangerous words in existence.

you, munching on a cookie, didn’t bother looking up from the textbook you were pretending to read simultaneously. "no."

"you don’t even know what i’m asking."

"i know it’s stupid."

jisung pouted. "wow. no faith in me at all?"

you finally sighed, setting the cookie down. "fine. what’s the favor?"

jisung clapped his hands together, practically vibrating with excitement. "so, jeongin has this family thing coming up, right?"

"okay… and?"

jisung leaned in, lowering his voice like he was about to reveal a government secret. "his parents keep nagging him about dating."

"and why is that my problem?"

jisung grinned. "because you’re fake-dating him now!"

silence.

you stared. "i’m what?"

"you heard me."

at that exact moment, jeongin—who had just arrived at the café (wow magic) —froze mid-step. he turned to jisung with a glare sharp enough to cut glass.

"what are you doing? no!"

jisung pouted. "come on, dude. your mom keeps asking about your nonexistent girlfriend, and y/n is perfect for this!"

you smirked, propping your chin on your hand. "perfect, hm?"

jeongin shot you a flat look. "don’t."

jisung, ignoring him, continued excitedly, "think about it! y/n’s hot, pretty, you two already bicker like an old married couple, and—"

jeongin cut him off. "i’d rather die."

"well, damn," you muttered, feigning offense. "you could at least pretend to be a little enthusiastic about fake-dating me."

jeongin turned to you, unimpressed. "i’d rather explain quantum mechanics to a toddler than date you."

you grinned. "you know quantum mechanics?"

"that’s not the point."

jisung threw his hands up. "guys! focus! jeongin, do you want your mom setting you up with random girls?"

jeongin clenched his jaw. he hated when his mom did that. every family event ended with some aunt introducing him to their neighbor’s niece, followed by exhausting small talk and forced compliments.

his eyes flickered to you, watching him with that stupidly smug smile. you probably weren’t taking this seriously, right?

good.

because he wasn’t doing it.

"no," he finally said. "not happening."

jisung groaned. "dude. it’s one dinner."

"still no."

you leaned in, resting your elbow on the table. "you’re really against the idea of dating me?"

jeongin exhaled, looking you dead in the eye. "fake or not, i wouldn’t date you if you were the last person on earth."

you grinned. "good. that means i can flirt all i want, and you totally won’t get attached, right?"

"oh yeah? wanna bet on it?"

"oh you're on, yang. i'll flirt with you as much as i want for-"

he cuts you off, "-one month. a whole week of me buying you snacks and lunch on the line. if you win."

"hmm, scared much? why not make it three months and i'll actually leave you alone after it all?"

"oh this is fun." jisung only stared between the two.

"bet."

jisung clapped his hands together. "so it's settled! you two are fake-dating!"

"i never agreed to this," jeongin muttered.

you simply took another bite of your cookie. "too late, topper. we have a date to plan."

jeongin swore under his breath.

this was going to be a disaster.

. . .

the night of the dinner came faster than jeongin would’ve liked.

you, unfortunately, were thriving.

"so, babe," you teased, nudging him as you walked toward the fancy restaurant where his family was waiting. "are we holding hands or what?"

jeongin shot you a glare. "no."

you pouted dramatically. "you’re so bad at this."

"i don’t want to be good at this."

you sighed. "fine. but i am calling you ‘babe’ in front of your parents."

jeongin stopped walking. "don’t."

you smirked. "babe."

jeongin groaned, rubbing his temples.

this was hell.

so, the second you stepped in, jeongin’s mom beamed.

"iyennie! you made it!"

you nearly choked. iyennie?

jeongin shot you a look that screamed, say a word and you die.

you, of course, took mental notes for future bullying.

his mother, looking as happy as ever, turned to you, eyes lighting up. "and this must be your girlfriend!"

you smiled sweetly, reaching for jeongin’s arm. "yes, ma’am! i’ve heard so much about you."

jeongin stiffened. his actual nightmare was happening.

his mom clapped her hands together. "oh, she’s adorable! and so polite!"

jeongin shot you a glare.

y/n, in response, squeezed his arm.

. . .

the dinner had barely started, and jeongin already wanted to disappear.

his mom was in full hosting mode, greeting everyone at the long, beautifully decorated table like she was running a royal banquet. his dad, more relaxed but equally nosy, sat at the head of the table, eyeing jeongin and you like you two were the most interesting thing in the world.

and then, of course, there were the relatives.

the visiting relatives.

which jeongin had not been informed about.

"aunt nae is here?" he whispered to his mom in horror as they took their seats.

"of course! she and minji wanted to see you, and they had to meet your girlfriend," his mom whispered back, beaming.

jeongin shot a look at you, who was way too comfortable in this situation, greeting his relatives like you'd been part of the family for years.

he exhaled sharply. this is fine. one dinner.

you turned to him, grinning. "jeonginnie, babe, scoot closer."

jeongin flinched. "what the hell did you just call me?"

"jeonginnie," you repeated, full of amusement, before turning to his mom. "it’s my nickname for him. cute, right?"

his mom melted. "oh, that’s adorable!"

jeongin clenched his jaw, gripping his fork like it was his last lifeline.

you were having the time of your life.

"so, y/n," jeongin’s dad started, leaning back in his chair. "tell us about yourself. what are you studying?"

you smiled, setting your chopsticks down. "music and literature."

jeongin’s mom clasped her hands together. "oh! a creative soul!"

jeongin muttered under his breath, "more like a chaotic soul."

you kicked him under the table. he barely held in a grunt.

one of jeongin’s aunts, a well-dressed woman in her late fifties, eyed you curiously. "and how did you two meet?"

before jeongin could stop you, you smoothly responded, "in the library. he was too shy to talk to me at first, so i had to make the first move. such a baby, right?"

jeongin nearly choked on his water. "that’s not—"

"oh, my," one of the older relatives gushed. "that’s so cute!"

"it really was," you continued, ignoring jeongin’s silent death glare. "he kept glancing at me over his books. adorable. my little nerd."

jeongin took a slow, deep breath. "lying is a sin, you know."

you turned to him with a sickeningly sweet smile. "so is being grumpy at your loving girlfriend, babe."

jeongin gritted his teeth. "i hate you."

"no, you don’t."

the rest of the table ate this up.

minji, his cousin, sighed dreamily. "you two are so cute together."

jeongin gave you a sharp look that screamed, look what you’ve done.

you only smirked.

and so, the dinner continued, filled with stories, laughter, and jeongin’s silent suffering.

until his father, casually sipping his drink, said, "we should invite y/n to the family trip next month."

silence.

jeongin’s brain short-circuited.

"excuse me?"

his dad smiled. "the family trip! your mom and i were just talking about it the other day. since y/n is part of the family now, she should come!"

jeongin nearly passed out.

you, on the other hand, simply blinked. "family trip?"

"oh, yes!" his mom clapped her hands together. "a whole week at the beach! we go every year, but this time, you’ll be joining us!"

jeongin stared at them in horror. "no, she won’t."

"of course, she will," his dad said firmly.

"we’ve only been dating for a few months!" jeongin protested.

his mom tilted her head. "so?"

"so?! that’s too soon for a family trip!"

you, who had been silent, leaned in slightly. "i mean, i do like the beach."

jeongin whipped his head toward them. "are you kidding me?"

you smirked. "what? i think it could be fun, babe."

jeongin clenched his fists. "i hate you." (keep counting guys !!)

"no, you don’t."

the table broke into excited chatter about the trip, completely ignoring jeongin’s very obvious distress.

this wasn’t happening.

this couldn’t be happening.

but it was.

and you were enjoying every second of it.

. . .

the evening air was crisp, a sharp contrast to the warmth inside the restaurant. the soft glow of the streetlights cast elongated shadows on the pavement, flickering with the occasional movement of people walking past. somewhere down the street, a car honked, followed by the muffled laughter of a group of university students spilling out of a nearby café.

none of that mattered to jeongin.

because he was currently standing outside the restaurant, rubbing his face aggressively while you stood beside him, grinning like you had just won the lottery.

as soon as you had left the restaurant, he had dragged you to the side, glaring.

"you just had to play along?"

you shrugged. "what was i supposed to do? say no and make it obvious?"

"yes!"

you smirked, tapping your chin. "hmm… too boring."

jeongin groaned, rubbing his temples. "this was supposed to be one night."

"well," you said cheerfully, "looks like we’re fake-dating for a month now. hope you’re ready, iyennie. oh, and this doesn't mean our bet is off the line now."

jeongin groaned louder.

this was hell.

"you're enjoying this," he accused, voice flat, eyes burning into them.

you smoothed the skirt of your blue, satin dress, pretending to think. "maybe a bit."

jeongin shot you a glare.

okay, a full-blown murderous glare.

you, still entirely unbothered, placed a hand on your hip. "i don’t see why you’re mad. i mean, a free vacation? beachside views? quality time with your loving girlfriend?" you batted your lashes. "i’d say that’s a win."

jeongin exhaled through his nose. "a win would be me never having to fake-date you in the first place."

you gasped dramatically. "that hurts, iyennie."

jeongin physically recoiled. "don’t call me that."

"aww, but it’s cute." you tilted your head, smirking. "just like you."

jeongin’s entire body tensed. "i hate you." (what did i tell you?)

"no, you don’t."

"besides, you could've asked any other girl for this whole.. fake dating agenda, you know. but you didn't, so i think that's very contradictory to your complains right now."

"you think i had a choice when jisung practically threatened me there in the first place?"

"please, you could reject it if you really wanted to. that man would forget about it if minho appeared randomly."

jeongin groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "this was supposed to be one night. one dinner. one stupid meal, and then i could go back to my normal, peaceful life."

"peaceful? dude, you have two research papers due, a physics exam next week, and you literally stress-buy sweaters. what part of that is peaceful?"

"shut up," he muttered.

"aww, did i strike a nerve?"

jeongin clenched his jaw. "let’s just go."

"go where?"

jeongin pointed to his car. "i drove you here, remember? which means, unfortunately, i have to drop you home, too."

"aww, you care about my safety, now? such a great boyfriend."

"no, darling, i just don’t want my mom thinking i abandoned you on the side of the road."

you gasped, pressing a hand to your heart. "cold, iyennie. cold."

jeongin ignored her and walked to his car.

jeongin’s car was clean. of course it was.

dark leather seats, faint traces of cologne and fresh laundry lingering in the air, a neatly placed water bottle in the cup holder, and absolutely no mess in sight. it was exactly what you had expected from someone like jeongin—controlled, neat, meticulous.

you, on the other hand, sprawled in the passenger seat like you had all the time in the world, kicking off your heels with a sigh.

"ugh, finally," you said, stretching your legs. "i swear, those things were invented by a man."

jeongin side-eyed them as he started the car. "you chose to wear them."

"yeah, because i actually put effort into my appearance, especially because i was meeting my boyfriend's family, you know. not to mention, i also had to match someone's peak of fashion sense."

you looked him up and down, eyes dragging over his outfit. "speaking of, i gotta admit, you looked kind of good tonight, nerd."

jeongin, dressed in a perfectly fitted black button-up (with the sleeves slightly rolled, because of course), navy slacks, and a silver watch that sat just right on his wrist, kept his eyes on the road. "kind of?"

"mhm. but don’t let it go to your head."

jeongin clicked his tongue. "too late."

you laughed, leaning against the window. "so, when were you going to tell me you had a whole extended family coming to dinner?"

jeongin let out a deep sigh. "i didn’t know."

"mm-hmm."

"i didn’t. if i had known, i would’ve never agreed to this in the first place."

"bet your mom planned it on purpose,"

jeongin’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. "oh, she definitely did."

silence filled the car, the quiet hum of the engine the only sound between them. the city lights flickered past, casting patterns of gold and silver against the windshield. the streets, alive with late-night chatter and the occasional honk, blurred into the background.

you shifted, turning to face him. "so, what’s the plan?"

jeongin frowned. "what plan?"

"you know, the fake-dating plan? we need a strategy."

jeongin blinked. "we don’t need a strategy. we just—" he exhaled. "we just survive the trip, act normal, and then break up after."

you gasped. "break up? so soon?"

jeongin shot you a look. "we are not actually dating, idiot."

"but think of the drama!" you grinned. "we could stage a messy breakup—throw some fake tears in, maybe have a whole 'it’s not you, it’s me' moment—"

"no."

you pouted. "boring."

jeongin rolled his eyes. "you are the most insufferable person i’ve ever met."

"and yet, here you are, fake dating me. out of every girl in town."

jeongin groaned. "i hate my life."

you smirked, playing with the edge of your dress. "no, you don’t."

. . .

when you finally pulled up in front of the women's uni dorm building, jeongin parked and rested his head against the seat, exhausted.

"alright, we’re here. get out."

you gasped. "no goodnight kiss?"

"out."

you laughed, wearing your heels back and stepping out. before closing the door, you leaned down slightly, peering inside. "sweet dreams, iyennie. don’t miss me too much."

jeongin glared. "i will actually block your number."

you winked. "you wish you could."

and with that, you shut the door and disappeared into the building, leaving jeongin staring after you, questioning every life choice that had led to this moment.

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger @woozarts @katsukis1wife @bddaramjis @reignessance @peskybirdysya @honeyybbuubblleess @ellemir2404 @4ng3l-ch1ld @urlocalmultigroupfan

[arandomao3user]

"Jason was just a replacement for Dick." I have heard people say, "Bruce never loved him."

And, to an extent, I agree Jason was just a replacement for ROBIN, but not as a son, no, because Dick was Bruce's son and pride alright, he became his pride, the pride of Batman. But Jason did something Dick often failed to do, not from lack of TRYING but, because, it only lasted a week, maybe two before Bruce went back to that deep, dark hole he carved out for himself.

(Tim Drake: Pride Special)

Something I feel people can't possibly grasp, because maybe they can't relate or don't fully understand the significance or impact? The fact that it was the anniversary of the Wayne's deaths, Bruce's parents deaths that have haunted him for the majority of his life. He was in the cowl, he was BATMAN in the moment and it was his parents deaths, and in the same place he stayed, kneeling between the cooling corpses of his parents, knees drenched in their blood, he stayed there for possibly an hour or more. And yet, as Batman, in the cowl in the same place on the same night-- he laughed.

He laughed. Some punk, little bony street brat with a tire iron stole his tires, hit him with said tire iron, and called Batman a "big boob." and I believe Bruce was fond of Jason the moment he saw him.

Bruce and Dick were the dynamic dup, but there was also some small sense of obligation for Bruce to take Dick in. Bruce feared what Dick would've become, didn't want him to turn out like Bruce did. But with Jason? Oh, with Jason.

"Jason was the first thing Bruce allowed himself to want since his parents deaths." Is what my friend said when I was rambling to them about this, and it hit me how true it actually was.

Dick was Bruce's son, and he loved him, yet, but with Jason? BRUCE chose Jason, and he was the first Robin that Batman chose. Dick made himself Robin, Dick gave Robin to Tim and Damian, and I believe even with Stephanie it wasn't entire because Bruce WANTED her to be Robin.

Bruce, after seeing how Ma Gun's school wasn't what he thought it was, he made Jason Robin, took him home the same night (kidnapping is valid if you're Batman and he's up for grabs anyways--) and made him his SON.

He replaced Robin, but Jason was never a replacement as a son.

(Tim was the replacement as a son but we won't get into that today since that is more of my fanon over analysis of the characters--

so, yeah--)

Bruce adopted Jason about... Two weeks, I wanna say(?) after meeting him, taking him home, and I don't wanna say it was some sort of automatic attachment, but I believe Bruce saw the chance to make a proper family, and that's what he WANTED for Jason.

That's what he GAVE Jason.

I'm not digging for anymore panels, this isn't easy work for a post--

But my point stands, and even after Jason dies, Bruce wouldn't hesitate to come save him. Not out of guilt anymore, but because Jason has and always will be his son, not his favourite, because that'd make people mad if I say that (I read comics now, and even after, I still say that Jason is the favorite, but I won't make it a whole thing in this post--)

(Batman: Urban Legends #4)

Bruce, evidently, even with the violence and abuse he's shown Jason after Jason came back from the dead, has proven he'd come for him, that he won't ever give up on him.

Jason is rarely ever called his son in the comics anymore, he's rarely acknowledged to be Batman's son, and some may say "Well, that's because Jason doesn't see him as a Father." And I BEG you look at these comic panels and think that still. The words aren't said, maybe because it's to painful for Bruce to acknowledge he lost another family member, and for Jason? Hell, Bruce keeps punching him, we've all seen the panels, we've seen Dick's crash out.

Their relationship isn't perfect, Bruce has made so many mistakes, called Jason a failure, and Jason has certainly reciprocated those feelings a few times. Jason openly admits they were no dynamic duo, and says there wasn't trust between them-- something I disagree with. Entirely.

(Aaaand there's my image limit. Guess I won't show y'all the panel of Bruce holding Jason's corpse, thinking, "Did he hate me?" Because that was Bruce's thoughts after losing Jason. Guilt. And fear that Jason's final feelings for him were HATE.)

Can we also just... THIS PANEL!? HOW can anyone say "Well, Jason was just Dick's replacement--" then why was the worst fear the BATMAN can imagine, can conjure in his mind, losing Jason? Losing Jason was Bruce's greatest fear, something so terrifying to Bruce, to Batman.

Dick, Tim, Damian... They're all good Robin's (no Tim hate here, that's my boy) but Jason was a good son. In the movie, and comic, (Under The Red Hood) everyone agrees that Jason knew he was loved, he knew he was loved even as he grew older and began getting more reckless and violent-- things he wasn't as Robin, not for the majority of his run-- because he was a teenager who was beginning to go through stupid staged in his life where he could make mistakes. Unfortunately, he had all the supplies to make those mistakes fatal, and they proved to be...

But nobody replaced Dick as a son, something he was to Bruce, but things were to rocky, that first child syndrome hits hard and Bruce was young and so, so stupid with Dick... A good Father, but he wanted to be better with Jason, and maybe this is all to fanon territory, but I don't wanna hear a lick of "Bruce never loved Jason." Because Dick was Bruce's pride, but Jason was every last lick of joy in Bruce's body.

Jason was worth breaking his rules in Batman's eyes, briefly, but at a point he was worth it.

Jason, to Bruce, was worth dying for if he couldn't live in a world with him, Jason had Bruce crying for an hour once, after he was taken away from him during his Robin years.

Bruce loved Jason, because that was his son. Unfortunately, things got messed up, their relationship is messy now, yes, but that is still Bruce's son, and deep down, I think he knows that. It's something easier to admit than other times, and I forever hate the title of "Batman's Greatest Failure" because the only failure was not reaching Jason on time, Jason himself was no failure.

ANYWAYS, THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK :D

---

[mikibwrites]

The Price is Right

inspired by @theweewooshow 's post about a kissing booth :) Happy Valentines Day everyone!

bucktommy | 1.4k | G | ao3

This is ridiculous. He’s officially lost his marbles. 

Tommy’s been in this line for at least fifteen minutes, and every third minute of that has been spent telling himself he should leave. The other 2 minutes of each spiraling cycle have been spent eavesdropping his fellow hopefuls in line, listening to their tittering about how hot the firefighter working this shift of the booth is, surreptitiously cataloguing every person that he can see in front of and behind him and evaluating them on what–little, sadly–he knows about Evan’s preferences and whether or not their dreams of bagging a date with him will come true. Which then, in turn, sends him back into spiraling and berating himself for being among them, given his history with said firefighter. 

He needs to leave. 

There are roughly ten people in front of him, and Evan definitely hasn’t spotted him yet. He could totally duck out and no one would be the wiser. He contemplates pulling his phone out of his pocket with an air of importance, putting the completely silent device to his ear and pretending something dire has just happened that requires his immediate attention. No one would question him for getting out of line, no one would suspect that he’d lost his nerve. They’d think, wow, he must be important to be needed somewhere so urgently. 

Tommy’s definitely, officially for real this time, lost his marbles. 

Also, there are now only seven people left in front of him. 

As he watches each person get their sweet little peck on the cheek, he tries to tell himself this is for a good cause. The money goes to charity. There’s nothing weird about giving to charity. Nothing at all. There’s also nothing stopping him from just dropping the money in the basket on a table near the door that’s designated for just plain donations. He doesn’t need to get anything out of it if that’s all he’s hoping to do. 

He’s definitely hoping to get something out of it. He can at least admit that to himself, if nothing else. 

Five people left. 

“Oh my god, he’s so hot,” Tommy hears from behind him. “Look at those arms. Hold me down, daddy.” He almost chokes, the girl’s voice clearly pitched for just her friend next to her to hear, but he’s apparently blessed with supersonic hearing. The friend chimes in as well. “I wonder if he’s actually a good kisser or if he’s one of those dudes who relies on his rizz alone and then can’t deliver when it counts.”

Tommy has no idea what ‘rizz’ is, but he has to physically stop himself from turning around and describing for this girl in detail just how good of a kisser Evan is, how well he can deliver. He’s sure that wouldn’t go over well. 

Two people left. Evan is being so gracious and attentive to each of his patrons that he still hasn’t noticed Tommy. He could still make a run for it. 

He’s not going to. 

There’s roughly enough time for one more cycle of spiraling before he makes it in front of Evan, but Tommy chooses to spend it going over what the hell he’s going to say. Surely, Evan may protest giving his ex a kiss, even if it’s for charity, given the way they ended. It’d be well within his right to do so. So Tommy needs to have some justifications ready just in case Evan gets the wrong idea here. 

And what is the idea? Tommy failed to decide before he attempted this ridiculous stunt. Honestly, he’s been so, so god damned touch starved since he walked out Evan’s door that he thinks he’d do anything for just a brush of fingertips from Evan at this point. And that’s it, really…he only wants it from Evan. His coworkers have told him multiple times that he needs to just go out and get his ex out of his system–Donato offered to wingperson for him, even–but the very idea turns his stomach. 

But did he actually think that throwing some money at charity at a kissing booth of all things was going to get them anywhere near a reconciliation? Jesus, he should have just texted. Not that he hasn’t tried that, many many many times, and all of them ended up deleted because regardless of what he likes to tell himself he does not have the courage to put himself out there without the reassurance–or despair–of seeing Evan’s actual expression when he says what he wants to say. 

Which is…what? Exactly? He still hasn’t deci–

“Tommy?”

Shit. He’s missed the last person in front of him getting their dutiful peck on the cheek, and now he’s run out of time. 

Evan’s voice as he says his name is full of awe, trepidation, and…dare he say it…hope? His expression is even more devastating: like he’s seeing the sunrise just beginning after a century spent underground. His narrowed eyes are earnest and a little guarded, but they are trained wholly on Tommy.

Shit….what was he going to say?

“Uh, yeah. Hi. I, um…well I. Uh.” Tommy runs his fingers over his hair roughly, feeling unbearably stupid and exposed. He should have run when he had the chance. “Look, Evan, I–”

Evan’s breath hitches audibly at the sound of his name. They’re staring at each other. 

“Shit or get off the pot, dude, we’re all paying customers!” Some guy further back in line is shouting. 

“Um. Did you want a kiss?” Evan says, his face turning pinker by the second. And this. This Tommy can definitely answer.

“Yes,” he says, with maybe a little too much conviction behind the word for their current circumstances. Evan seems to clock it immediately, his eyes flicking down to Tommy’s mouth before coming back up to his eyes, his expression morphing to hopeful disbelief. “But, I mean, you don’t have to, here, I know you probably weren’t expecting–”

Tommy’s words are cut off by Evan’s mouth sealing onto his. 

God, god, he’s missed these lips. Each slide is like a revelation, and the thought is not lost on him that they’re in the middle of what is essentially a work function, they are both in uniform for christ's sake, having a whole existential crisis shared along with their breath and space and saliva. Because yes, Evan has now bullied his insanely talented tongue right behind Tommy’s teeth and is exploring like he’s going to be asked to draw a map later. 

Evan kisses him long, hard, and thorough, endless seconds ticking by and Tommy definitely doesn’t listen to any of the complaining going on in the line behind him. Evan does, though, and he very reluctantly pulls his lips away from Tommy’s and blinks in the most adorably flustered way and Tommy’s so, so gone on this man. How did he ever walk away from this?

“Can we talk?” Evan asks breathlessly.

“Please. But maybe later. Your adoring public awaits,” he adds, gesturing with his thumb to the line behind him, still nearly thirty people strong. He can’t blame them, but he’s also feeling a tad possessive so he leans in one more time to press his lips to the apple of Evan’s cheek, causing the blush to intensify when he pulls away. 

Tommy begins to turn to walk away, his smile already making his cheeks sore when Evan clears his throat. He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t pay, you know.” He’s smirking, the little shit. 

Before Tommy can make a move, someone in line shouts, “Damn! How much does it cost to get that?”

“That is not for sale,” Evan states with finality, but he’s still looking at Tommy, lips pursing, trying to hold back a full blown grin. There are a few groans from the line. 

Tommy reaches into his wallet, pulls out a $100, and slaps it on the table in front of Evan. “What time does your shift end?”

“In thirty minutes.”

“Meet me at the cafe two blocks down. Bring those lips. We’ll talk.” Tommy congratulates himself on being smooth as he smirks right back at the look on Evan’s face. 

“Mmm, okay. I’ll bring these lips. But I hope you remember they’re good for more than just talking,” Evan adds as Tommy turns to walk away. 

He retracts his self-congratulations as he trips over his own feet. 

[alephzdraws]

Ahh, I love it when people remember how serious Silver can be sometimes! He may be naïve, but that doesn't meant that he's directly opposed against murder if it's for the sake of the overall future. If there's something that needs to get done, he'll do it. He can serve some real justice — even if it's misdirected.

I mean, it was absolutely on SIGHT for Sonic in 06. Immediate hands (well, tables and chairs) thrown with him.

I mean sure Silver can have his times of calm and just enjoying/learning about the past, but remember the boi has some fight in him! He has psychokinesis with no known limit! He's just being repeatedly nerfed.

Like, I don't mind the fanbase characterisation where he can do no evil and is goodest boi too much, but I'd love to see more of Silver being...well, entirely Silver. Not just one part of his personality magnified.

You don't have to agree with me on this, I just saw this and felt the need to say it. It...doesn't really help that Silver's personality is already kinda fragmented since there's not much of him Post-06 so I can see where this comes from.

idk if you know this but in the Undertale fandom, Papyrus has a similar issue as Silver where he gets uwufied to the point of mischaracterisation, so the fandom has a yearly "Papyrus says FUCK" day to have fun and remind everyone that Papyrus has far more nuance than just an innocent naive character. So what I'm saying is that Silver should get his own "Papyrus says Fuck" day :)

(I do hope that I'm not being too crass haha)

silver says fuck

[meanbossart]

Ask Compilation: Gorp, Questionable Child Rearing, Progressive elves and some campaign lore!

As always, I apologize if your ask isn't here/ hasn't been replied to, it is unfortunately impossible for me to answer to every question I get to the extend I would like to. Occasionally I also just don't have a very interesting answer to offer 😅 and I try to avoid spamming people's feeds! But thank you so much to everyone who interacts with my stories, characters, art, and is curious about my thought process and writing! The response is frankly just as overwhelming as it is deeply appreciated, and every word of encouragement or message about how I inspired you to draw or write more of your own stories makes my day.

DU drow and Gortash had what I would describe as a "Toxic Friendship". They got along well enough, had little friend dinner-dates, drank together, superficially shared their woes in ways that benefited no one, and DU drow ultimately had a great deal of respect for Gortash - except you would have never known that by the way he treated him.

DU drow belittled, harassed, and even destroyed Gortash's property on whim alone. Every compliment was back-handed and every display of friendship was somehow sarcastic. Gortash let everything slide right off his back for reasons I like leaving obscured. Here's a particularly intense write-up I did about their relationship a long time ago that still stands. I think it serves really well to illustrate how intense DU drow could still be about his friendships.

PFFTT, I don't know why that would be a female-child only thing, but maybe that's just a colloquialism?

DU drow actually talks pretty similarly to children as he does to adults! He just doesn't set the same expectations on them. Children don't ask stupid questions because the world is still new to them, nor do their respond reasonably to everything, they also don't understand some big words or complex ideas depending on how you present it to them - he understands this and adjusts accordingly. But otherwise his tone would be the same, even with his his own child. He's that guy who's good with kids on the basis of treating them as to-be adults rather than.. Well, just a child.

The Astarion assessment is fair, LOL.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

(Surface) elven kind strikes me as fairly gender-indifferent overall! And while I enjoy theorizing about how their culture has shifted over the years from exposure to "urban life", for both better and worse, I like to think this is an aspect that has remained mostly unchanged, even for elves who may have had a really mixed-up upbringing from living in a city as diverse as Baldur's Gate.

I believe Astarion (and by extension Shadowheart and DU drow) are fully aware that they read as their respective genders and that for other races, such as humans, that means something; but for them that is a different custom that doesn't really apply outside of pronouns and reproductive expectations. So, I actually believe that Astarion would be pretty indifferent to life as a woman save for occasionally missing having a dick for the obvious reasons (only to then shift back and lament the opposite, probably).

ALL THE TIME!

But I know that you meant to ask if I will ever draw it.

VERY LIKELY THAT I WILL.

As a side note, thank you for showing interest and excitement for male-on-male sex that isn't just anal, LOL.

CW for the obvious, though nothing too descriptive or awful.

I understand if people disagree as a knee-jerk reaction, but I would say that Astarion's character demonstrates a shocking amount of self-control and emotional regulation. I went into this more in detail in an older post, but basically: the guy always brings himself down from his own outbursts, is exceptionally good at reading the room, is extremely forgiving and pragmatic, and knows when to send the jokes outside and respond to vulnerability in kind. I stand by this as more than a headcanon; it's in his actual writing and dialogue.

All that to say, I don't think Astarion would ever lay a violent hand on his own children. I also don't HC him as having endured corporal punishment as a child, hence not really having that instilled in his mind as a possible example to draw from.

I could see DU drow implementing physical punishments that he doesn't consider to be actually painful, like pulling, pinching, or squeezing a child while you reprehend them; things a parent might do because they think it's harmless. Astarion would probably be the one to say he's not really achieving anything - so it would likely be short-lived.

I DO think they would both be okay with setting up their children to pretty arduous physical labor, though, both as punishment and just in general to toughen them up. You could argue there's a way to do this that is reasonable, but they would prooobably push that line into dubious territory.

Buddy, WHO said low fat, what do you think the meat and taters that he's eating is swimming in!

But back to your question, he can enjoy a sweet treat every once in a while! He just far, far prefers savory. Personally, I think the guy would go crazy for a panettone. Or a big sugar-powdered crepe with some berries.

I kind of flew through the Circus in DU drow's playthrough because I was SO excited to get to Baldur's gate. They were only there long enough for DU drow to make Astarion mildly pissed off during the dryad's weird love quiz.

I also somehow missed Lucretious and never got the Dribbles quest - probably for the best.

Becoming a big ol' squid seems like a deal-breaker for his character in-game - so, same thing applies here. He'd let him down gently but potentially want a friendship for as long as DU drow is still himself.

... Buuuut it would never come to that; DU drow would most likely end his life pretty swiftly if he were to turn into a mindflayer, so Astarion wouldn't have much to worry about 😬

Alas, she pretty much never crosses his mind since he has no recollection of the type of relationship they had prior to DU drow's amnesia.

Or at least she won't as long as nothing weird ever happens that potentially jogs his memory 😇

Hello! I also love the escorts, but due to both DU Drow's and Astarion's respective attitudes towards drow and that kind of activity they didn't really hire his services. I do like to think him and his sister had a lot to gossip about as soon as they turned their backs, though, LOL.

[durgeapologist]

Let's Talk About Ir Abelas, Da'ean

As some of you may know, I am vehemently against the dishonest use of AI in fandom and creative spaces. It has been brought to my attention by many, many people (and something I myself have thought on many times) that there is a DreadRook fic that is super popular and confirmed to be written at least partially with AI. I have the texts to prove it was written (at least) with the help of the Grammarly Rewrite generative feature.

Before I go any further, let it be known I was friends with this author; their use of rewrite features is something they told me and have told many other people who they have shared their fic with. It is not however, at the time of posting this, tagged or mentioned on their fic on AO3, in any capacity. I did in fact reach out to the author before making this post. They made absolutely no attempt to agree to state the use of Rewrite AI on their fic, nor be honest or upfront (in my opinion) about the possibility of their fic being complete generative AI. They denied the use of generative AI as a whole, though they did confirm (once again) use of the rewrite feature on Grammarly.

That all said: I do not feel comfortable letting this lie; since I have been asked by many people to make this, this post is simply for awareness.

You can form your own opinion, if you wish to. In fact, I encourage you to do such.

Aside from the, once again, high volume word output of around 352K words in less than 3 months (author says they had 10 chapters pre-written over "about a month" before they began posting; they are also on record saying they can write 5K-10K daily) from November until now, I have also said if you are familiar with AI services or peruse AI sites like ChatGPT, C.AI, J.AI, or any others similar to these, AI writing is very easy to pick out.

After some intense digging, research, and what I believe to be full confirmation via AI detection software used by professional publishers, there is a large and staggering possibility that the fic is almost entirely AI generated, bar some excerpts and paragraphs, here and there. I will post links below of the highly-resourced detection software that a few paragraphs and an entire chapter from this fic were plugged into; you are more than welcome to do with this information what you please.

I implore you to use critical thinking skills, and understand that when this many pieces in a work come back with such a high percentage of AI detected, that there is something going on. (There was a plethora of other AI detection softwares used that also corroborate these findings; I only find it useful to attach the most reputable source.)

Excerpts:

82% Likely Written by AI, 4% Plagiarism Match

98% Likely Written by AI, 2% Plagiarism Match

100% Likely Written by AI, 4% Plagiarism Match

Some excerpts do in fact come back as 100% likely written by human; however, this does not mean that the author was not using the Grammarly Paraphrase/Rewrite feature for these excerpts.

The Grammarly Paraphrase/Rewrite feature does not typically clock as AI generative text, and alongside the example below, many excerpts from other fics were take and put through this feature, and then fed back into the AI detection software. Every single one came back looking like this, within 2% of results:

So, in my opinion, and many others, this goes beyond the use of the simple paraphrase/rewrite feature on Grammarly.

Entire Chapter (Most Recent):

67% Likely Written by AI

As well, just for some variety, another detection software that also clocked plagiarism in the text:

15% Plagiarism Match

To make it clear that I am not simply 'jealous' of this author or 'angry' at their work for simply being a popular work in the fandom, here are some excerpts from other fanfics in this fandom and in other fandoms that were ran through the same exact same detection software, all coming back as 100% human written. (If you would like to run my fic through this software or any others, you are more than welcome to. I do not want to run the risk of OP post manipulation, so I did not include my own.)

The Wolf's Mantle

100% Likely Human Written, 2% Plagiarism Match

A Memory Called Desire

99% Likely Human Written

Brand Loyalty

100% Likely Human Written

Heart of The Sun

98% Likely Human Written

Whether you choose to use AI in your own fandom works is entirely at your own discretion. However, it is important to be transparent about such usage.

AI has many negative impacts for creatives across many mediums, including writers, artists, and voice actors.

If you use AI, it should be tagged as such, so that people who do not want to engage in AI works can avoid engaging with it if they wish to.

ALL LINKS AND PICTURES COURTESY OF: @spiritroses

[idrawprettyboys]

Advice for Aspiring Commissions Artists

I recently had someone ask for advice on how to sell art commissions, so I thought it would be nice to compile a list for others aspiring to do so, as well as to remind myself of some important things to keep in mind.

1. Have one tumblr blog strictly for art. People will follow it specifically because they like your art, and it will be easy for them to find your artwork without having to scroll through a jumble of other stuff.

2. Draw and post just about every day! Most people will say to draw every single day, but please let yourself rest. You will end up being miserable if you force yourself to draw when you aren’t feeling well. The more you draw, the more your art will improve, and the more followers you will naturally accumulate over time.

3. Post fan art to bring in fans. You don’t have to strictly draw fan art, of course. But people are more likely to interact if they’re familiar with the character already. A lot of people will follow you for fan art initially, and some of them will grow to love your original art as well.

4. Develop your own unique style. This will occur naturally over time. Learn from artists you love, and over time, your art will evolve into a mix of art styles you like into something uniquely yours!

5. It takes time to find supporters who are willing to spend money on your art. Building an art business is a slow process, and it takes patience and perseverance. Only a small percentage of social media followers will pay for commissions or Patreon support, but those few are precious.

6. Use every platform and website you can to share your art and have links between platforms, so your fans can find you in multiple places. Examples of places to share your art are social media sites like Twitter, Instagram, BlueSky, and Pillowfort, as well as art sites like Cara and Pixiv.

7. Get a Patreon and Ko-Fi account and be sure to provide links to these means of financial support on your art posts (especially the art pieces you’re proud of).

8. Make use of as many means of making money with art as you can. Sell prints on inprnt, sell stickers on Redbubble. Youtube videos can eventually give you ad revenue. If you make comics, Tapas is another option to make a little bit of ad revenue. You can use Etsy to sell originals, prints, or even commissions! Some people may feel more comfortable buying commissions through an official store like Etsy rather than on social media, so it’s good to have that as a back-up in addition to selling through other sites.

9. Use a secure payment method that you’re comfortable with! I recommend using PayPal with invoices, so that you have proof of their purchase in case anything goes wrong. A lot of artists use Ko-Fi as well.

10. Post your commission guidelines on all the sites where you post your art! Don’t be afraid to reblog/repost your commission price list multiple times!

11. Art commissions are not a steady job. You might get nonstop commissions for a couple months and then not get any for a few months. There are some times of year when people are less willing to spend money. I’ve noticed this happening towards the end of the year. At times when you aren’t getting commissions, I recommend doing a limited time sale!

12. Price yourself appropriately for the amount of effort it takes for you to get the work done! Don’t overprice or underprice! Ask your friends for advice on what you should charge. You’ll probably want to start low and slowly increase your prices as your work gets higher demand.

13. Make your commission price list legible! Check out other people’s sheets for guidance!

14. Have patience and perseverance! It may take years after you start posting before you get a commission, but the more you put yourself out there, the more you’ll get noticed!

15. Draw what you enjoy! Maybe cater to your audience once in a while, but your own happiness is important to give yourself the drive to keep on going!

16. Don’t be afraid to reblog your own art at various times of day, for maximum visibility! Not all of your followers will be online at the time that you initially posted it.

@artist-kreating-stuff

[the-fab-fox]

ALL OF THIS SO FREAKING MUCH.

Y'all. We have been saying this. Pleading with y'all.

My number one question to my bestie Jen any time comment numbers in used to get I'm no longer getting on newer fics:

Has my writing gotten worse or something?

And I fucking GUARANTEE I'm not the only one who has this thought and has to be talked around by friends.

Think about this. When a book is popular... When it's popular because it's good... Do you know why it's popular...

Not because it's good. I mean, that's the reason it got there but it's not how it got there.

The how is by people talking about it... Reading it... Telling their friends... Making posts about it... Tagging the author in social media to tell them and your followers how it made you feel...

THIS IS HOW YOU CAN HELP YOUR FAVORITE FANFIC WRITERS.

Share with friends in the same fandom you know that will love it. Talk with them about it. Make posts on your blog about it linking it. And for the love of Apollo, Dionysus, Inari Okami, Tyche, Loki, Athena, Hades, Persephone, Zeus, Hera, Aphrodite, Ares, Hephaestus, Hestia, and Agni (my patron gods)—COMMENT AND TELL THE WRITER WHAT YOU THOUGHT AND FELT.

We are not being unreasonable. Especially since it is still an issue that you readers have the power to solve if you would just take maybe two minutes max (unless your comment is long—which yes you can absolutely leave long comments, ones I've gotten are some of my most cherished ones) and all the suggestions of what you could do up there in TOTAL - maybe an hour or two max, depending on how many people you have to share it with.

But really. Stop. Stop. Stop. STOP TRYING TO GUILT TRIP OR GASLIGHT (yeah. Some of y'all really do be doing that) INTO THINKING THAT WE DON'T DESERVE TO BE ACKNOWLEDGED WITH COMMENTS. THAT JUST READERS READING SHOULD BE ENOUGH FOR US. THAT WE SHOULD WRITE FOR OURSELVES AND NOT COMMENTS.

Like I'm sorry. Yes we write for ourselves first but that does not mean we can't and shouldn't expect readers to do their job on their end.

I'm not going to sugar coat this lesson or cut it into mini bite sized pieces any longer.

FANFIC READERS. you may not want to hear this but listen up.

Your job as readers is to comment and kudos the fic you like. If you love it, you should absolutely be doing that and taking the time to share it with others who would enjoy it as well. If you are rereading it so much, comment periodically to tell the writer this and what it means to you and share.

The numbers look like they do on AO3 because you all failed to do your job.

But you can fix it. You just have to start. Doing. Your. Job. As. Fanfiction. Readers.

Full stop.

I really don't understand how "without getting kudos or comments a fanfiction author is going to assume that people who clicked their fic didn't like it" became a controversial take.

I don't know why some people think an author should imagine, or guess that people who click their fic enjoyed it it when nobody is telling them that.

If you're re-reading a fic constantly, or leaving it up in your tab so that it re-loads every day for a hundred days the author is not going to know that unless you tell them. They'd love to hear it. It would make their day.

And if you don't tell them you liked their fic, there's no reason for them to assume you did.

[mistercrowbar]

Terribly sorry if you've answered this before, but what would Companion Aldiirn's greetings be, at those varying approval levels?

(I only ask bc I'm writing my character's rn and im curious lol)

I did write some ages ago but I could never figure out any for flirting/partnered stages because I am bad at that. So thank you for getting me to dust them all off and add more:

Negative Approval: has the air of a retail employee who cannot leave their post under threat of reprimand.

Hello.

Did you need help with something?

Is there something you need?

May I be of service to you?

(contextual) Yes, Mistress?

Neutral Approval: Chipper, retail voice.

Whatever you need, I can provide.

Aldiirn, at your service.

Good day, saer!

Every moment is a brand new opportunity!

(contextual) What does the mistress require?

Positive Approval: More cheeky and animated in his movements, but isn’t dropping the bit.

My favourite client! What can do for you?

Whatever you need, I can provide - terms and conditions apply please check regulations with your local outpost before placing an order.

G’day, mate!

Whatever you ask, you’ll have the Iaurrhen Guarantee.

(contextual) May the mistress be pleased with my service.

Flirting: Not too different from Positive.

Bright one today, isn’t it? But there’s always opportunity.

The Aldiirn Guarantee, just for you!

Many hands lighten the load. How may I unburden you?

My new friend, always delighted to work at your side.

Partnered: Sappy and sing-songy, big eyes just looking at the player.

Ussta alurlsrin.

My love, my loam, my home away from home.

I will forever wade in the shadows of your wake. To where shall we go?

Yes, my brightest cap?

Being sent back to camp:

Has my performance not been satisfactory? Give me the chance, allow me to make it right.

[on confirmation he must go] Oh… well, then… I’ll be counting inventory.

Spoken to by someone other than the player:

Pardon me, I’m currently busy with another client.

[kiwriteswords]

Hiii sorry if this is too late for missing scenes Monday (or maybe this can be Thirsty Thursday!) but I'm thinking of post-Reaper attack between 5x01 - 5x02, Hotch having a secret fuck buddy/friend with benefits to work out his frustrations 👀

Because that's what I want to be for him lol

The Aftermath [Aaron Hotchner x Reader]

Ki2k Masterlist||MainMasterlist (not updated, sorry!)|| Ao3||Word Count: >>>1k|| AN: Not too late! My apologies for it being so short! Thank you for sending in and being a part of my 2k celebration! <3 *note, I think I will not be tagging my usual taglist in these, as I do not want everyone to have their notifications blown up by my short drabbles and/or excessive posting for this event!*

Tags/Warnings: female reader, canon typical themes, canon typical injuries, spoilers-ish to 5.01/5.02, hurt!hotch, sexual themes, friends-with-benefits, fade to black smut, sexual tension, caregiver!reader, BAU!Reader, mdni

Summary: Hotch thinks the benefits part of your 'friends with benefits' situation may really help the way he's feeling when recovering from being attacked by The Reaper.

Your heels clicked softly against the hardwood floor of Aaron Hotchner’s apartment, the sound muffled by the pervasive silence that seemed to hang heavily in the air. The door had been left unlocked, just as he’d texted you it would be, a small act of trust that you didn’t take lightly, especially now.

As you entered, you paused for a moment, struck by his appearance. Hotch was sitting on the couch, his posture unusually rigid against the softness of the cushions. His face was drawn, the remnants of pain evident in the tight set of his jaw and the way his eyes briefly closed when he adjusted his position. The bandages peeking out from under his shirt near his neck served as a jarring reminder of the attack that had nearly taken his life.

You took in the surroundings of his apartment. On the coffee table sat a prescription, which looked unopened, and a cup of coffee--likely the only thing he had eaten or drank in the last 48 hours since being home. 

“Hotch,” you said softly, keeping your voice gentle, not wanting to startle him.

He opened his eyes, and a flicker of relief passed through them as he saw you. “You came.”

“I said I would.” You set down the bag of groceries you’d brought with you in the kitchen, making a mental note to fill his fridge with something more substantial than takeout containers and old coffee. 

Over the months, your relationship had evolved into a convenient arrangement of late-night visits and quiet departures--no promises made, no strings attached. But today was different. You felt different seeing him. Your eyes caught the cut out spot on the carpet, a mental reminder that you almost didn’t see him again. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I was stabbed in the chest,” he replied dryly, a hint of his usual stoicism laced with dark humor. You knew this was his way of coping, of grounding himself back to reality.

Walking over to him, you took a seat on the other end of the couch, giving him space yet staying close enough to share warmth. “I can imagine that doesn’t feel great.”

He watched you, his gaze intense and searching. His voice was rough, and he said, "I...I could use a different kind of distraction, though."

The atmosphere thickened, laden with unspoken yet palpable tension. This was always the dance you two did so well--words veiling more profoundly, unsaid things. It worked this way--it did. You weren’t itching to label things, but the way your heart quicked seeing him so…so raw. So vulnerable.

Since the attack, since Foyet, everything felt more intense, more serious. Your relationship, hidden under the guise of late-night visits and stolen moments at work, now bore the weight of his near-death experience.

“Hotch, you need to rest,” you said, reaching out tentatively to adjust a cushion behind him, your hand brushing against his arm. The contact sent a familiar jolt through you, but you focused on his comfort rather than the building tension.

“I am resting,” he insisted, though the edge in his voice told you it was the last thing he felt. Trapped in his apartment, in his body that hadn’t fully healed, in his mind that never stopped--rest was a foreign concept to him. "I could use some company...maybe a bit more, if you’re up for it."

You paused, your heart skipping a beat. "Aaron, I don't think that’s a good idea," you said gently, worried about his physical condition. You looked down to the gauze peeking out from the hem of his shirt. The bandaged spon on his arm from where the IV was. The bruising on his cheek. 

"I need this," he pressed, his expression earnest. He waved a hand toward his bandaged torso with a grimace, an awkward reminder of his vulnerability. "I need to feel something other than this, even if it's just for a moment."

You swallowed hard, your resolve wavering. This was uncharted territory. The casual ease of our previous encounters hadn't prepared us for the raw edges of such real need. "I’m afraid of hurting you," you confessed, feeling the weight of his gaze intensify.

"I'm not made of glass," he countered softly, a hint of his usual firmness returning. "And I trust you. You’ve always known where to draw the line, haven't you?"

The weight of his trust in you, in your understanding of his limits, made your decision for you. Slowly, you moved closer, still cautious but now with a new purpose. "Okay, but at any sign that it's too much--"

He reached out, his hand finding yours, his touch gentle yet certain. "I'll let you know," he promised, his thumb brushing against your skin soothingly.

"Let's take it slow," you suggested, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his forehead, a gesture of care mingled with the promise of more.

"Slow is perfect," he agreed, his other hand coming up to cradle your face, bringing you closer for a gentle, probing kiss that spoke of gratitude and need.

The kiss deepened gradually, more about connection than passion, yet it stirred a familiar heat within you both. Hotch remained careful, mindful of his injuries, but his kisses grew more insistent, fueled by a mixture of frustration and desire. Each touch was a whisper against your skin, a silent conversation between comfort and desire, pulling you deeper into the complexity of our connection.

As you responded, matching his intensity, the world outside his recovery, the pain, and the medications momentarily faded. Here, in this quiet space filled only with the sound of shared breaths, you pulled back slightly, checking his expression for any sign of discomfort. "Are you okay?" you asked, breathless.

"More than okay," he assured you, his eyes bright for the first time since the attack. "I need this...I need you. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me for that," you whispered, settling beside him. Here, with Hotch, you were both finding a way to mend, a path forward that allowed him to heal not just in body but in his spirit.

[cloversnstrawberries]

oc intro post ! ! parental!platonic yandere!supervillian

! requests open !

warnings; vague depictions of violence, implied violence against children/youth (reader), slight mentions of gore, body horror(?), and medical horror, yandere behavior, kidnapping, and there may be more i'm forgetting :( if so, please let me know!!

additional notes; hello everynyan, here is my first OC, Malpractice!! very creative name, i know, but i thought it fit (and also it's funny to me) :D i'm not quite sure what format to do for these introductions, but i'm sure as I make more i'll get better at them :) please leave suggestions for any parts/additions you'd like for these intros!!

! ! introduction blurb & moodboard below the cut ! !

Malpractice is known as one of the most destructive and hard-to-deal with villain in all of history, having appeared around the 1930s and refusing to go away since. Malpractices comes and he goes, but he always seems to return eventually, whether that be in three months, or 20 years. He is like an illness that never truly goes away. Remission is possible, but the possibility for it to resurface at any moment is a very real, impending threat.

With abilities ranging from mind control, disease manipulation, pseudo-necromancy, and enhanced senses, speed, and strength; no one hero could ever hope to face Malpractice head on alone. Not even a group of them could ever hope to entirely defeat Malpractice,

Malpractice was a charismatic, slippery asshole-- he'd never really been caught before, but he's sure as hell caught others before. While he isn't known for doing this often, if he wants something bad enough, he'll take his time to set a well thought out trap to catch whatever-- or whoever-- it was he sought.

And when he saw you, so young but so very battered-- left to deal with an (albeit low level, but still dangerous in its own right) threat because your mentor/partner, prioritized a personal goings-on instead of staying by your side.

He'd seen as the so called hero went off the side, leaving you to fight the threat alone-- as you desperately called for their help, only to realize that they'd left without a word; beckoned by the person on the phone.

And it must've been so strange, to feel a little tug on his heart as he witnessed your reaction. Not quite angry, but rather... disappointed, but accepting. Like this was a regular, expected occurrence. Like you were blaming yourself for holding your mentor to a higher standard than this.

By then, Malpractice had decided that you deserved better. He could provide you with that-- besides, in his eyes, even if you were just on the cusp of adulthood-- you were still a child.

My, the industry sure had gone downhill from his time, hadn't it? When he'd been a doctor helping the superpowered individuals, working under the agency, though in it's infancy at the time, had taught him that children were to be nowhere near the career.

Sidekicks were not children, they were simply other superpowered individuals who along, did not do very well; but fit well with a more powerful hero, creating a dynamic duo.

You and your mentor couldn't couldn't be more different, both personality and ability wise. Really, what was he supposed to do, not spring a 'surprise adoption' on you?

Obviously, you're only fighting it because you don't feel worthy of love. That's the only reason, not that you're afraid of him or anything!

[miwiheroes]

Dropping Byler Evidence Every (Other) Day Until Season 5

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ Day 26: Music Choices (Titles) . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Music is important for conveying a subtle message that the viewer barely realises they're getting. A lot of romantic Byler scenes would probably seem romantic with any music, but they're made more romantic with music that has been chosen specifically for this purpose.

For example, in my Lumax parallel post, I talked about how they used the same music in a pivotal Byler scene as a heart-to-heart scene in S2 with Lumax. This is "On The Bus" -

This is highly intentional and was done to make the viewer see both scenes as romantic, due to the music's calming and curious tones. Both scenes seem like the start of something new. Of course, with Lumax, it is the start of their uninterrupted romance. With Byler, to Will it feels like a chance for him to reconnect with Mike. To Mike it feels the same after feeling like he lost him and now that El is somewhere else, he feels comfortable being more affectionate with Will.

In both scenes, the couple gets interrupted, which happens a lot on Stranger Things, but really only when two characters with romantic potential have a romantic scene.

You do not use a song in the background of a romantic scene and then place that song in the background of a platonic scene. the song is in no other scenes other than these two. The creators are trying to clearly convey that Byler's scene is romantic.

Now, I also wanted to talk about the titles that some of these soundtrack pieces get.

So, everyone knows the Rink o Mania fight, right? If you're not well-versed in the Byler lore, you might not have any idea where this is going, but basically, a song begins to play during the climax of the fight.

This argument is already packed full of implications: the thought that Mike believes that Will had already ruined his day by ignoring him, the implication that Mike hadn't been ignoring him the whole time, Mike saying "we're friends!" a little too adamantly, the "what about us?" and dramatic head turn to make it romantic--

So when Will says "Well we used to be best friends!" The camera cuts to Mike looking like this ^^, aka regretting everything he's said because he'd misinterpreted things.

And some music plays:

Before anyone says anything, yes, El is also hiding in a closet right now. As in, a literal one. But the whole point of the BRACKETS is to show that there is a double meaning to this title. Will and Mike are hiding in the metaphorical, gay, closet. El is hiding in the closet at Rink o Mania.

What's funny is that there is literally no mention of being queer in this argument on Will's part. Despite being the one with confirmed feelings, all Will is talking about is his friendship with Mike and feeling like he's being pushed away. He may say things like "What about us?" and "And us?" but when he confirms that these were all only to do with their friendship, we get Mike's reaction, and that's when the song begins to play.

The editors chose the music to play at this point in order to drive the idea home that Mike is in the closet. During the fight, he constantly misinterpreted Will's words as romantic. So when Mike realised that Will hadn't meant it all that way, the music played, because it the moment why he's in the closet.

ALSO the music's motif is the same as the soundtrack piece used for the garage scene, called "Destroying The Castle", showing that the song is about Byler, not just El being in the literal closet.

creds for the video goes to @indefinitevoid

Another interesting title choice for a piece of music is the song in the background of the love monologue by Mike in S4.

What do you expect the song title to be? (im expecting that you don't already know but i think thats unlikely)

Should it be something like....Right there and then? In that moment? You're my superhero?

No. This is the title. Because it's the main takeaway from that scene.

Not that Mike loves El, not that El is finding strength in Mike's words, not that he loved her from the moment he saw her, no. The scene is about Mike keeping the party together, doing whatever he has to do to save El. The scene is about Will sacrificing his own feelings. It's supposed to be painful. And to many viewers, who weren't even Byler shippers, it was.

Coupled with the fact that the camera constantly makes you remember that Will is there and is taking pain to all of this, the music title shows the true message to be taken away from this scene. The memory that sticks in your head isn't "Oh so I guess Mike loves El, yay", it's "I can't believe Will did that :((". It places emphasis on Will's arc, rather than Mike's.

Will's speech to Mike is being remembered. Not Mike to El's.

A lot of Milkvan shippers try to ignore the depth of Will's feelings and his importance and involvement of his own feelings in this scene. But why would there be no deeper connection to the van scene if this is the name of the track? His words are significant enough to trigger the music and to be the name of the track.

The name of the music isn't just crazy because it's what Will said. The name of the music is literally the phrase that encapsulate's the reason for Will's love towards Mike. Yeah, we may joke about the line being corny (at least me and my gf do um sorry) but it literally means "I think you are the most important thing in this world, I think you give me the courage to fight onwards, you make me feel like I'm not a mistake." And they decided to make the song for Milkvan's supposed arc closer called that.

I think you get the point <3

Hope you enjoyed <3

[kanmom51]

4 months to go...

Someone clearly has JM etched on their hand and on the brain.

Miss those two so damn much.

Funny how as time is closing and discharge from military etching closer I feel like it's moving so much slower than the first 14 months did. Is it only me that feels that?

But time is nearing, nevertheless, and as it is, I can't help but think what comes next. What is the day after going to look like?

Obviously, I'm not the only one thinking of that.

The two of them are clearly contemplating the day after as well.

We don't know what their hopes and wishes are for that post military future is, but I can tell you what mine are.

My hope for post military is that they will continue to be as openly inseparable as they have been going into the army and spending those 18 months of their service together.

I know they are together and their relationship is as strong as ever. With as little as we've been getting from them in the past 14 months of their service, they have shown us that ever so loud and clear.

I want them to be able to continue and be open about it.

I want us not to go back to the reality of 2023. A reality in which we KNOW they were spending their time together, but we weren't supposed to know it. A reality in which they gave us crumbs and clues and puzzles to solve but couldn't be loud and clear like this:

or this:

I do feel like there has definitley been a shift since their joint enlistment.

Obviously, them enlisting together was a HUGE part of it.

AYS and everything we were allowed to see in that show (and everything we know we weren't allowed to see as well) was just as HUGE.

But it doesn't end with that.

14 months of service and we barely got anything from them. But when we did, even more so in the last few months, it always contains a clear message of their "togetherness", take it in anyway that you will (they spend free time together, sing together, exercise together, shower together, have heart to heart conversations with each other before going to sleep - together - might not have been said but clearly implied).

To little ole' me this is not a coincidence. This is a clear pattern. A plan in place, one may think or conclude.

So yes, my hope is that when we reach the end of these 18 months we will be walking into a new reality. One in which they don't necessarily 'come out' officially (I think that is asking too much of them, and it would be a huge decision for them to make - together - one that will obviously impact not only them, but the whole of BTS), but do not shy away publicly from just how close and co-dependent they are of each other. A reality in which, dare I say, it's an obvious natural progression for them to continue to live together as "roommates" (in JK's huge mansion, of course) because "they got used to living together while in service". One in which being seen together in public isn't a big deal, it's a norm. One in which neither of them has to cower away or freeze or double take when they are caught on camera together (JK's deer caught in the headlights looks at the camera in mind). One in which when they aren't together them mentioning of the other isn't an "oh" or "ah" moment, but a natural "not a biggie" thing, because that's just something they obviously do. One in which ot7 army who love to ignore just how close those two are (because they are too close and too suspicious and acknowledging that means acknowledging there is more there and that Jikookers aren't delusional shippers that are fantasizing or fetishizing those two, but clearly seeing what they have been purposefully ignoring) cannot continue to ignore any longer.

And I wouldn't have wished for all of the above if I didn't think that was something they wanted.

Because most of all I want one thing.

Most of all I want them to be happy!!

[crowsongcaws]

(This is easily one of my favorite depictions of Codfather Jimmy, it feeds into my Empires s1 worldbuilding interest, and YES long hair!!! I love this account so much, I depend on each daily post, of course I had to write something)

The Codfather could feel a pair of eyes on him.

It wasn't an entirely unusual feeling—he was used to getting stray looks whenever he stood beside his sister. They'd see the Ocean Queen in all her glory, then their gaze would slide down to him, and he'd be able to feel the disappointment like a shiver and taste the pity on his tongue. He'd never quite gotten used to it.

This stare, however, was more persistent.

The Codfather tried to shake off the feeling, tried to keep himself focused on the emperor's meeting at hand, but the itch of it made him cave within a handful of minutes.

Glancing up at the current speaker, fWhip, he quickly let his eyes flicker to each person until his eyes met Smajor's. Immediately (the elf must have just then realized how long he'd been staring), he averted his gaze and fumbled with his pen to write down any sort of useful notes. The fins on the side of the Codfather's head flapped briefly in confusion, but he couldn't ask anything while fWhip was speaking, so he tuned back into the spoken topic and tried to return to his note-taking.

It was only after the meeting had come to an end that he suddenly found Smajor by his side. Admittedly, he was left flabbergasted by the sudden interest in him, and it was getting harder to assume Smajor's true interest had something to do with the Ocean Queen. Part of his inner turmoil must've been clear on his face because Smajor had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed.

"My apologies, Codfather," Smajor managed to say, formal and polite as usual—had he ever relaxed? "I just happened to notice the feather you've got in your hair, and I was wondering if that's a new fashion statement of yours?"

"I—I mean, yes?" The Codfather stammered, his confusion only becoming more apparent by the second. "Well, uh... it isn't a new fashion thing, or a 'fashion' thing at all, it's just... new for me."

Smajor tilted his head, just as confused.

Jimmy hurriedly added, "to the Cod, the sea and the sky are one and the same. Some of the more traditional people will say that this holds true enough that in this life, I may live as Cod, but in the next life, I'll be an Avian. So this feather, it represents the life before this one and the life I'll have after—that I always have and always will strive for the best no matter what."

"'The best'?" Smajor asked.

"Probably lost in translation over the centuries," he admitted, "so everyone interprets it differently. Some people say 'the best' means world peace, individual satisfaction with work or relationships, stuff like that, but I consider it to be personal happiness. I feel like it'd be hard to achieve anything else if you weren't personally happy."

At that, Smajor hummed in agreement, but he looked lost in thought. The Codfather hadn't expected to be sharing a part of his empire's culture so suddenly (or at all), but it struck him as comforting to see someone curious about it rather than the larger and more apparent culture of the Ocean Empire. Still...

"What made you ask?" he prodded.

Smajor suddenly seemed very blank-faced, his words failing for a handful of seconds before he finally said, "I thought you were engaged—"

"Engaged!?"

"—because avians in Rivendell, we—they—give feathers to those they're supposed to marry! And I didn't realize you were being courted by an avian, and the feather was so small, I didn't know if the courtship was supposed to be subtle and you were just walking around with it anyways because you wouldn't know that—"

"I'm not engaged! Lizzie would kill me if I was and she didn't know!"

The Codfather self-consciously brought a hand up to the feather, debating whether to tuck it away or remove it altogether in his wave of embarrassment, but Smajor was quicker—the elf reached out and grabbed his hand, startling them both.

"I'm sorry—" "I hope I didn't bother you—"

They both paused, and at that point, both had felt enough embarrassment to last for weeks. Smajor carefully pulled the Codfather's hand away from the feather, gently smoothing out the hair to not get tangled with the single feather.

"I'm sorry," Smajor repeated, "I just... didn't want you embarrassing yourself, and I just ended up embarrassing myself instead."

"It was a nice thought! And, well, it was nice to see someone notice. No one really asks about the Cod Empire if it isn't slime-related," The Codfather laughed, if only to mask his disappointment.

"... If you want to talk about it more, I'd love to learn more. None of my books ever teach much about the culture of other empires."

"Are you sure? It can be messy, and uh, a lot of it is just spoken history since it's so difficult to get everything written down in a majority-underwater empire—"

"Then I'll listen. Maybe take some notes if I can, so there's something in Rivendell about it."

The Codfather felt like he would genuinely cry over such an offer.

He eagerly said, "You know what? Sure! Just, send a letter! When you've got the time, of course. Leave the rest to me!"

...

Some years later, the Codfather would have a white feather of his own tangled in his hair.

...

One life later, an avian with bright yellow wings would wake up in a death game with the faintest memory of snow-cold hands and red poppies.

ah ... perchance a codfather ? or , If you are familiar at all with Jimmy's legacy smp , well . a jimmy clueless never hurt anyone ....

Day 75!

Codfather!! I just think he's pretty neat.

[marksbear2]

Hiiii, bear!!! If you're still taking requests, could a request a homelander x male!reader fic where homelander is sort of a little desperate for readers approval because hw hasn't gotten a lot of positive attention in his life? And if it's still open, could I be '🪼 anon', please?

Homelander x male reader

Hiii and yes you may my friend. This has to be like a world record for me to be writing and posting a request in the same day.

Beneath the Cape

The first time you met Homelander, you hadn’t expected much.

Not because he wasn’t impressive—he was. Towering, broad-shouldered, the very image of America’s strongest hero. But you knew his reputation, the whispers beneath the carefully crafted PR. Dangerous. Unstable. Capable of wiping out a city if the mood struck him.

And yet, when you spoke to him, you saw something else. Something beneath the mask.

It had been a brief encounter. A charity event, one of those nauseatingly polished affairs where Vought paraded their golden boy around like a prize horse. You’d been there as part of your company’s sponsorship, nothing special. Just another name on a list.

But then he walked by, and you—unlike everyone else—didn’t grovel. Didn’t flinch. You just… smiled. A simple thing, a polite acknowledgment, nothing more.

And for a second, just a second, Homelander froze.

Then his expression shifted, something unreadable flickering across his face. He gave you a nod, an almost hesitant one, before moving on.

You thought nothing of it.

He, however, couldn’t stop thinking about it. Homelander started noticing you more after that.

It wasn’t immediate, but it was persistent. Every time he passed through a room, his gaze would linger on you a little longer. At first, it was just curiosity. Why hadn’t you looked at him the way everyone else did? With fear. With worship.

Instead, you were… normal. You treated him like a person, not a god.

And for the first time in his life, that felt more intoxicating than any amount of adoration. So he sought you out. First, by coincidence. Then, with more intention. He made excuses to be near you, dropping by your office under the pretense of business, stopping to chat when he saw you at events. He wanted—needed—to know why you were different.

And every time you spoke to him, it was like a breath of fresh air. No false praise. No trembling admiration. Just simple, casual conversation. You didn’t hesitate to crack a joke, to roll your eyes at corporate nonsense, to treat him like—well, like a regular guy.

He couldn’t get enough of it.

Of you.

At first, you chalked up his frequent appearances to coincidence. But then it became too frequent. Too deliberate.

Homelander always seemed to be around. Finding excuses to talk. Standing just a little too close. And then there were the looks. The way he watched you—not with the cold, calculated gaze he gave most people, but something softer. Almost needy.

It was subtle at first, the way his eyes followed you, the way his expression shifted when you laughed at something he said. But then there were the moments when he lingered after conversations, as if reluctant to leave.

And one night, after another one of those tedious events, you finally called him out on it.

“Alright,” you said, arms crossed as you leaned against the balcony railing. “What’s your deal?”

Homelander blinked, tilting his head. “My deal?”

“You keep showing up around me. Hanging around like a lost puppy.” You raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

There it was again—that flicker of something behind his eyes.

“Would you rather I leave?” His voice was casual, but you caught the undercurrent beneath it. The uncertainty. The smallest, quietest thread of insecurity, woven into the carefully controlled mask.

You exhaled. “I didn’t say that.”

His expression shifted, something relieved, something satisfied. “Good,” he murmured, stepping closer. Close enough that you could smell the faint scent of his cologne, something crisp and clean beneath the fabric of his suit.

And then he smiled, not the perfect, PR-ready grin he always wore for the cameras, but something real.

Something just for you.

From then on, it was impossible to ignore.

Homelander wanted your attention. Craved it. And he wasn’t subtle about it.

He’d show up at your office unannounced, making himself comfortable in your chair like he belonged there. He’d hover during conversations, subtly guiding them back to himself, clearly wanting to hear what you thought of him.

And, God help you, he was charming when he wanted to be. Infuriatingly so.

“You like me, don’t you?” he mused one evening, seated across from you in your apartment—because, yes, he had started showing up there too, somehow always knowing when you were home.

You scoffed. “What kind of question is that?”

“A simple one.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “You’re nice to me.”

You frowned. “And?”

“No one’s ever nice to me.”

Something in his voice made you pause.

It was an admission, plain and simple, but there was something raw beneath it. Something vulnerable.

He covered it quickly, pasting on a smirk. “Well, not without wanting something in return.”

You sighed. “Maybe I’m just nice.”

He studied you for a long moment. Then, quietly, “Maybe that’s why I like you.”

Your stomach twisted.

Not out of fear. Not out of discomfort. But something deeper.

Something dangerous.

Because the way he looked at you—the way he wanted you—wasn’t just some passing fascination.

It was need.

And you weren’t sure you could ignore it much longer.

---

It escalated from there.

Not in the way you expected. He didn’t push. Didn’t demand.

He just… stayed.

In your life. In your space. Always there, always watching, always waiting for whatever little scraps of attention you’d give him. And God, when you did?

It was like he came alive.

A simple touch—your hand brushing his arm—made his breath hitch. A kind word had him lingering on it for days.

You realized, then, just how little warmth he’d ever been given.

And how much he wanted it from you.

One night, after a long conversation over drinks, he sighed, tilting his head toward you. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

“How much I need this.” His voice was softer than usual. “How much I need you.”

Your chest tightened.

And when he leaned in, when his lips hovered just a breath away from yours, you realized something.

You needed him too.

THE END