#sometimes it really is hard to accept this

[blockednddeleted]

don't waste this life thinking and fantasizing about the next. a different life you're are not even guaranteed to get. no one knows for sure what happens after we die. but what we do know is that you have this life, the one you living right now, at this very moment. why waste a second of this precious existence, whatever philosophers think it may be, and focus on the here and now as you live out the miracle that is the improbability of life itself than to spend another second wishing to be somewhere else. as far as we know, this is all you get.

bitch this is all you’re gonna get. this life, this face, this body. you better not ‘maybe in another universe’ your way out of everything. sit your ass down and face this. go make tea and have a picnic and read a goddamn book. kiss your loved ones, send that damn text, and hug your siblings. this is all you’re gonna get.

[starthecozy]

Streamers Eddie and Steve who have totally different publics regarding the games they play. Eddie grew his channel playing horror games while Steve usually plays cozy and cute games (and sport games, he's still Steve).

They met through friends in common and started mentioning and hyping each other's channels on their streams. After a short period of shy interactions and "this guy would never want to hang out with me", they became fast friends themselves. And then boyfriends!

It's a hard known fact that Steve gets too scared to play horror games. He can watch Eddie playing alright...while covering his eyes in some moments of course. He says he's sparing all his adrenaline for real life events. Then one day, Eddie suggests that Steve plays a horror game on his channel as a challenge to himself. He wouldn't just put anything for him though. He has a plan.

He gets Steve to agree with the promise it won't be that bad and at least it'll render enough screams to make the stream interesting. So he suggests a specific game...a really bad one. The scares on this game are so unserious they end up being hilarious.

And that's how Steve finds himself later, wheezing and pausing the game to catch his breath. Eddie promised to stay with him for moral support but ends up there to read some interesting messages from the chat out loud for him. And making his own funny commentary.

It doesn't clear completely his fear of horror games but it's how Steve finally cave in and accept start playing with Eddie, and sometimes Corroded boys, in multiplayer scary games.

[hansolen]

beneath the light of the neon moon

꩜ pairing ⇾ beast!dazai x reader

꩜ word count ⇾ 3.5k

꩜ summary ⇾ this is basically just dazai being a wet cat and unable to understand yet overanalyzing his attachment towards you through all the world’s that exist in the book. he’s just a lil weird about it.

꩜ author’s note ⇾ i missed him. there’s no other explanation. beast dazai needs more love 💔 i think dazai having beef with himself through all the worlds is very real and very true. this is nothing but the outcome of the visions that plagued me.

꩜ cw ⇾ slight yandere vibes i won’t lie.. but c’mon it’s dazai so that’s to be expected. some possesive behaviour might come up. slight spoilers for beast if you haven’t finished the ln/manga/movie, though nothing too major. if anything else needs to be tagged lmk!

ability description — the reader’s ability stays active 24/7 and it does take a toll on her. while i haven’t gone into too much detail of what it really does (maybe more in the future, since i have a lot of ideas for it lol) but the ability holds a similarity to that of arahabaki — it too is an entity. not really a god but something more sinister. reader is basically a concious host of that entity which lays dormant.

If Nakahara Chuuya — one of the top most executives of the Port Mafia, is called the left hand of the boss; then it goes without saying that you are the right hand. Just as scary, sometimes even worse. 

If Chuuya is the hurricane that destroys towns after towns with its howling whirlwinds, then you are the tsunami that envelopes everyone entirely. Once and for all — like an oppressive silence. And yet it’s commonly accepted that destruction is prevalent regardless of which hand the boss chooses to use. 

Everyone in Yokohama can see the large and daunting building from wherever they stand, yet no one glances at it twice as they go through their day. A wise choice, by most. It’s sleek and definitely suspicious, neither the civilians nor the government officials ever directly mention it — in public, that is. Hushed whispers can only be so silent.

Everyone knows that the hands of the devil reach far and wide. Must be nice having two vessels of otherworldly entities on the tips of his fingers, they all murmur. And yet no one seems to mention how hard it is to actually maintain them, Dazai can’t help but think to himself.

The boss of the Port Mafia resides at the top most floor of the main building. Anyone who has ever had the (dis)pleasure of being called up, for whatever reason it may be, knows for a fact that the silence on that floor is deafening. Except for when a certain red haired executive comes around, then one can hear bickering reach far and wide. But that wasn’t always the case, much like today.  

The only sound that could be heard along the entire floor was that of your heals clicking against the cold marble tiles. After two knocks against the large doors, you enter Dazai’s office. You hand him the papers — strict and professional, like you ought to be. You’re a sub-executive afterall. By your own choice, of course. You had been offered the executive position far too many times, and yet you always declined. Harshly too, much to Chuuya’s disdain. 

He was unable to comprehend it the first few times, and he even tried to knock some sense into you. He wanted you to understand that you were far too deep into this side of the world to continue thinking that you couldn’t cross a ‘certain’ line. You shouldn’t keep trying to balance your way as you continue to stride on the thin thread that separates the civilian world from the mafia one. You’re in too deep, and have done too much to continue acting as though you have a way out. 

But your only response was a soft hum, which frustrated him even further. Perhaps more at himself than at you. You both were well aware that neither of you ever had a choice, no matter what the circumstances may be. No matter which road you chose, the destination always ended up here.

Although if Dazai willed it, you would be given the executive title in a minute. Whether you wanted it or not. Instead, he allows you to relish in the feeling of being able to make a choice. Some part of him, deep inside his fucked up sense of self — tainted by the shades of blood and things far darker — he almost feels like he owes this to you, at the very least. Even if it’s just for the sake of maintaining what remains of your moral integrity — your sanity, even.

Not that it changes much, you already perform all the executive duties as far as protocol is considered. Including being present in the meetings, guiding troops and having your own faction within the Port Mafia. It’s generally accepted by the entire organisation that you are equal to the executives, if not something more — to the boss, that is. 

Dazai allows you to have a feeling of distance from the work that you do, the lives that you take, the sins that he makes you commit. Letting you wallow in the false sense of security that you could choose to step away any time. Somehow it leaves you a little sane and gives him a little more room to play with. Afterall, no one would enjoy a completely broken doll. 

He enjoys humouring you from time to time. As if this whole play wasn’t written by him. As though he hadn’t willed every single interaction on this path into motion. As if he wasn’t the devil’s advocate, whispering the sins you were to commit with his hypnotising voice. 

He needed you with him on this path. It was all for the plan he had threaded together, he tried to convince himself.

The plan, yes. But Dazai is well aware that isn’t entirely true. And sometimes, a paranoid part of him thinks that you do too. Know for a fact that more than any of the plans — he did this for himself. He brought you and caged you into this world carved out of sin just for his own selfish reasons.

Not for Oda, not for the book, not for the sustenance of the world or any of those idealistic reasons — but for himself. Afterall, he was never an idealistic man to begin with. He was just a boy when it all started. A boy who had given up far too much and for once, wanted something for himself. He wanted you.

And so he did. He kept you. Weaved you into his spiderweb of grand plans. He often thinks back to how he knew everything there was to know about you, before he even got the chance to meet you for the first time. There you stood under the cold harsh lighting of that deserted old lab. He remembers how the flashes of his other lives played all at once. It almost felt as though he was reliving the memories through the sparks of light.

It was making him sick. Being able to witness in such excruciating detail of how he got to hold you so tenderly, in those worlds from the book. It made him feel intense emotions that he couldn’t even begin to describe. All he could do was just glance at those memories that were undoubtedly his own — and yet felt like he was watching them dance through the other side of a glass door. They’re all so painfully clear and yet there is a huge barrier in between.

Dazai has always been well aware that he never should have brought you into this. He knows that he shouldn’t have tried to find some sort of replica of the emotions he felt, as he replayed all his other lives. But he just couldn’t help it. He has to keep you alongside him. Hadn’t he sacrificed enough in this life? You’ve been so good to all the other versions of him, can’t you treat him the same in this one? You’ll forgive him, right? You love him, right?

You have to. There’s no other way out.

𓇚

Dazai’s mind undoubtedly wanders back to the first time you fainted from his touch. He knew it was going to happen — saw it as a staple part of you both meeting in all those worlds from the book. 

He knew what was to come if he were to let his rough bandaged palm even slightly graze your warm one. You’d faint. Like you had in all the other worlds, of which he carried the heavy weight. Those memories all helped him create acute plans for this world. Yet, the ones that he cherished the most, the memories that weren’t a heavy burden to carry but instead some sort of salvation — the ones he replayed over and over again like a broken record in hopes to reach some sort of comfort — were the memories he shared with you. 

In every world, your first meeting was something special, he kept those memories safely. Back when he was younger and the light in his eyes had not yet been entirely consumed — he used to find himself wondering how you both would meet in this world. How differently would it play out? It helped him distract himself from his surroundings and the heavy responsibilities. Those memories often flooded his mind as he gazed into nothing. In all of them, you always fainted when he first touched you. And after that too. 

But, in all his other lives, it lessened over time, and eventually the fainting stopped. “It feels rather relaxing,” you had once said to him — in the original world. To the original version of him.

“It feels as though The Presence subdues for a bit, as if it were never there. Continue holding me like this, won't you?” you spoke to him so gently as you both layed on top of each other with his trenchcoat covering the both of you. It held so much comfort and warmth, like it was just you both in this world, rest all be damned. Dazai wished that adoration was directed to him and not the man of origin.

His heart aches at the thought. What could he do for you to talk to him the same in this world too? What would it take? 

In all the other worlds — with time, you ended up building some sort of immunity, or rather you got used to his touch and even craved it. In every single world. Every world of the book, but this one.

You never seemed to have gotten used to his touch in this world. You still fainted. Every. Single. Time. 

𓇚

Dazai hates it. He’s well aware of the fact that this world is special — after all it’s the only one where Oda ends up living. It’s a world that has been handcrafted by him alone. Each and every thread has been woven with a purpose in mind. Each action has a motive behind it. Which is exactly why he needs to sustain it. Yet he can’t help it — the jealousy that fumes within him. Jealous of himself? Such a stupid reason. He knows that and yet—

“Boss, here’s the report of on the foreign mercenary group that recently surged up, as you requested. I have sent my men to look through their abandoned hideout, although I’m sure you can already imagine the outcome.” you say as you hand him the files.

Dazai doesn’t quite understand why you continue to put up the professional facade when it’s just the two of you here. Yet, he decides to humour you.

He glances at files with mild disinterest, and then at your hand. A thought occurs in his head — among many others. It’s indulgent. Entirely so. You will not enjoy it one bit. And yet he’s also well aware of his track record of never really listening to what you want. He knows this will hamper a few upcoming tasks and meetings. But when has he ever given a damn about those? And so he decides to indulge himself. He takes the report from your hands in a smooth motion and accidentally brushes the tips of his fingers against yours.

It’s a brief touch, and it all happens in the flash of a second. You noticed it, he realises. You saw his intent building up and yet you still offered to hand him the files rather than just placing them on his desk. 

His ability is always active, as is yours. You lose consciousness in seconds.

And you fall.

Right into his arms, like he planned you would. He glances at your face, there’s a serene glow emanating from you. Something about you is always pulling him in. He’s well aware of how you both are so intervened in each other’s lives that perhaps it was fated. Maybe he’s not entirely to blame for everything, or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on his part.

You look so relaxed like this, he thinks as he adjusts the both of you so that you can lay down in a more comfortable position. It’s often underestimated how tiring it must be to have the ability active at all times, especially one that is as draining as yours.

Perhaps, this could be an escape for you as well. Laying with him as both of your breathing falls into sync with one another. Or maybe he’s just cheating and controlling his heartbeat as he tries to come up with some valid excuse as to why he gave into his impulse. All while he continues to trace your face with his thumb. It’s a gentle motion, making sure to not disturb your slumber, though he doubts you’ll wake up from it. Your track record shows that you’ll usually be knocked out for the better half of the day.

The expression on your face is something he wishes to dissect. You look as though you’re in some dream far away from here. He wonders where you go when you lose consciousness. Will you ever take him with you? Doesn’t matter. He will follow you just the same. 

Dazai can’t help but wonder what you would do if you found out about other worlds. Worlds where you weren’t led to such a life. Where he didn’t turn you into a weapon for his own motives. Would you hate him for it? When you are made to face all the other versions of you — the much happier, and brighter versions. Where in the light from your eyes hasn’t been entirely extinguished yet. 

Dazai fears that you already know. Can’t help it when you both hold eye contact during brief meetings. At times he catches a glimpse of the space — somewhere in there — that he cannot reach. They often say that the devil’s arms reach far and wide, and yet he can’t help but feel there’s a large distance that he alone can’t cover, in his quest to reach you. (Dazai also knows that he is no devil. It has alwaye just been a title that was handed to him. He wonders if you know that, too.)

Afterall, you, too, have the look of someone who is hiding something. He understands the expression well enough — he has to meets those eyes every day in the mirror.

𓇚

That’s one of the many reasons he prefers you like this. With your eyes closed and breathing steady. You don’t give him the all knowing gaze that you usually carry. He gets to hold you close, without it eating him up from the inside. Some sick part of him likes having this power over you. Being able to hold it above your head any time he likes. He would never use it against you though. Not really.

Your breathing is rhythmic. A constant motion. He has memorised your breathing pattern over the years. To the point where it’s almost comforting to listen to it. Almost.

His hand hovers from your cheeks to sliding right at the base of your neck. Something swells inside of him. Something sinister. He can’t help but feel a little drunk. Drunk over the control he has over you right now — your life. He can continue to feel as guilty as he likes, but it’s no secret what exactly he’s guilty of.

Dazai gently steadies your head and moves it so that it’s resting on his chest. He then tries to bring his focus back to the papers that continue to lay on his desk, and then glances at the ones that fell on the floor. Lord knows how much that slug would nag him if he didn’t finish reading these by now. So annoying.

He tries to push his focus on reading them, but the comfort of having you so close against him is really distracting. It’s contrasting, really, how your body spreads such warmth against his cold one. Like a single candlelight that continues to glow in the cold stark night.

You both should do this more often, he thinks. Though you might end up hating him for it. But that’s won’t be an issue in the near future, considering what’s to come — the true plans written in the book.

What will be an issue is Chuuya barging through the black doors and seeing you both in such a precarious position — then he might proceed to quite literally kill Dazai. No matter if he’s the boss of the Port Mafia or not.

Afterall, Chuuya is probably the closest companion you have in this world. You both make sure to look out for one another as much as you can. It’s almost as if you both have this air of understanding, that Dazai often feels disconnected from. 

Is it because you both are vessels? Or because he uses you both similarly and keeps you both on leashes? Or is it some form of familial bonding that his emotional nerve receptors are far too fused out to understand? 

Dazai doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that you don’t necessarily hate him. That you never did. He doesn’t know that you let him do as he wills. He doesn’t know that no matter how much he thinks of himself as the ‘mastermind’ it’s you who handed him the reins. The one that held the other end of the leash that hung on your neck and places it right into the palm of his hands.

𓇚

“Men will be men,” The lady in the white lab coat had once said to you. 

“They’ll always believe they invented the wheel. They will always come close to calling themselves ‘creators’ of it all. They do not understand.”

Neither did you, back then. All you could really remember were the sparks she always sent flying towards you — with no mercy.

To those people in the lab coats that stood behind the glass, observing you the reactions your body gave out — you weren’t some kid. Not some seven year old that probably should’ve been playing in park with kids her age or discussing the latest episode of some show that always aired from 6pm onwards. No, you were just a vessel. A means to an end. That’s all you were as they watched you writhing through the glass, taking in the after effects of the electricity coursing through your veins.

Sometimes, you still feel the sparks travelling through your body and the night repeats. This time — it’s in your head. It hurts all the same.

What that lady didn’t understand was that Dazai was no man. He never felt like one, at the very least. No matter how many masks he puts on to fill in the gaps or self — that one hollow part of him never fills up. He’s afraid it never will.

He never feels connected to those around him — to humanity. The best he could have had was Oda, and he didn’t exactly get to experience that in this world. So, as a self preserving tactic, he tries to form some scrappy sense of comfort with what's left for him and take it from you instead. Some part of him felt like you know this too, and let it happen.

In some wild way it’s fitting, he thinks. It makes sense that this world was meant to be special. It’s the only one where Oda will be able to continue living and eventually write that novel. It’s the only one where Dazai will finally fulfill his long running wish. It only makes sense that there are innumerable amount of exceptions.

Not only are the shin-soukoku switched and roles have been exceptionally reversed, new anomalies continue to rise up as days go by. That’s part of the reason he decided to make you part of the Port Mafia. To deal with those anomalies efficiently since your ability was perfect to cut through them all. 

𓇚

If anyone were to barge in right now, they would be greeted with an extremely bizzare sight. The boss of Port Mafia, one of — if not the most feared man in Yokohama — gazing gently at you as his dark figure envelopes you completely. In some humourous way it almost looks like a black cat holding it’s prey close, making sure it doesn’t get snatched.

He likes it, he supposes. The way you look so serene in the low lighting of his office. How your head rests right next to his bandaged heart. He adores the way you pout your lips in your sleep. You seem much more honest with your expressions when you’re asleep than when you’re awake. You look so inviting, he just can’t help himself.

He’s in too deep — you’ve had to have put him under a spell of sorts. There’s no other logical explanation to the way you’ve made him do such illogical things. How you’ve reduced him of all people — the demon prodigy and Mori’s successor into such a state? Since he was a kid logic has been drilled into his very bones. Every strategy and it’s counter. The side of him that was built to be made a mafiaso has always been rational.

What he failed to take into account is that to you he’s just — Dazai. There’s no other valid explanation to how you’ve enamoured and caged his heart in the tender embrace of your palms, in every single world of the book.

So he gives in, he lets himself fall. He leans down to place a soft kiss onto your lips. With as much gentleness as he can muster up — given his disposition. It was supposed to be nothing more than a soft peck. What he didn’t see coming was how as your eyes began to flutter open and how you kissed him back.

© hansolen do not translate or repost anywhere else.

[back2bluesidex]

Misconception - MYG ft. KSJ

Pairing: Yoongi X Fem!reader X Seokjin

Theme: Angst, friends to ? au, cheating

Wordcount: 1.2k+

Summary: You and Yoongi have been friends for nine years, you have loved him for five of those. But reciveing nothing but pain from his end you decide to move on only for Yoongi to come breaking down your resolve.

Warnings: Jealous Yoongi, bad decisions, kissing without permission, cheating

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: Just a little piece from Six Degrees of Separation.

Read the full Series here

Yoongi knows it’s unfair and childish but he doesn’t like this Kim Seokjin at all. 

For one, he is unbelievably handsome. 

For two, he seems to really like you. 

And Yoongi never liked the guys who liked you too much. While back then, he never acted upon his disapproval because he was sure of his irreplaceable position in your life, now he is not sure anymore. 

His eyes land on you with every little chance he gets tonight. He is aware that he is staring at you much more than it’s socially acceptable but honestly, he doesn’t give a damn. 

While staring at you, he had made a couple of eye contacts with Seokjin, which really pissed him off. 

He doesn’t like being caught red-handed. 

“Can you show me the way to the restroom?” Seokjin’s voice is as sweet as his face. Yoongi absolutely hates it. 

“Sure. That door.” he vaguely points towards the washroom. Seokjin leaves but not before giving him a cryptic glance. 

As soon as the man is inside the restroom, he finds his feet working on autopilot and in moments he is standing before you. 

“You look good.” he says shamelessly as if he didn’t burn you with his cigarette just a year back. Your face morphs into hurt, then sarcasm all within a second. 

“Thanks.” avoiding looking at him, you take a large sip from your glass. Your ignorance stings him like a freshly injected needle. 

“Have you eaten anything? Or are you drinking again on an empty stomach? You know you don’t do good-” it’s his habit to babysit you and old habits die hard.

“The Yoongi that pushed me that night at Jimin’s place and the Yoongi before me are completely different. Why are you pretending so hard, Yoongi? Are you afraid I might step in between you two? If you are then don’t worry. I am not as bad as you think of me. Chill.” you cut him off, try to leave him behind but he stops you. His hand holds you in place and his heart thumps from the skin-to-skin connection. 

“I am not pretending. I am repenting. I- I am extremely ashamed for the way I behaved with you that night. I regret everything. Every single thing, Y/N.” so many unsaid words threaten to spill out of his throat. He is not sure about anything anymore. 

Not about himself, not about Hyeri, not about you. 

“I don’t know how that matters anymore. You can’t take back what you said and did and I.. I can’t go back being your friend. So, let’s just stop here. Congratulations on taking your relationship with my cousin a step ahead. My good wishes will always be with you two.” you smile but it falters. 

“Y/N, please-” he tries to say something, anything that will make you listen to him. But fate has different plans. 

“Yoongi, what are you doing here?” Hyeri butts in and the only chance Yoongi could get with you, slips away right through the gaps between his fingers. 

“Attention everyone.” Hyeri claps her hands, “thanks for joining us this evening. As you know me and my boyfriend finally decided to move in together after dating for five years. But there is more to it. Not only did we decide to move on but also to finally put a ring on each other as the first thing in the new year. So, today also serves as the official invitation for you all to our engagement ceremony which will be held sometime next month. Please bless us with your well wishes. Even though we have fifteen minutes left, a very happy new year to you all!” 

Yoongi’s blood boils. He sees red. Hyeri has truly crossed the line now. They have no fucking plan of exchanging any kind of rings for at least six more months. She is all over the place with her lies, competition to walk over you - It was the last nail in his coffin. 

He will have to take a step now. 

“What do you think you are doing?” he seethes, anger pours through his eyes. 

Hyeri acts all innocent again, “what?” 

“You know what I am talking about.” 

“Oh that? I just said it on a whim. Chill, it’s just rings. Let’s get it in installments. We can invite only a few people and get done with the engagement ceremony-” “You know what? Fuck you.” Yoongi cuts her off and leaves for the balcony. 

It’s already past midnight, a new year, a completely new day. And he will make sure to make it a new beginning for him. 

His heart drops to his stomach when an unexpected sight unfolds before him. 

Your lips are lost in Seokjin’s mouth. He is holding you by your waist, while you wrap him by his neck. He has draped his blazer on you to keep you warm. 

You two kiss and kiss and kiss not giving a damn about being caught by anyone in the action. Unbeknownst to Yoongi, his teeth girt with each other.  

This. this could have been him and you only had he not have Hyeri - wait. What is he even thinking? 

He clears his throat to break through the troubled thoughts that have clouded his mind and reduced visibility to zero. 

You two part your mouths being alert of the presence of a third person. 

You look at him, he looks at you. So many things remain unsaid, unchanged but at the same time blooming into existence. 

“I think it’s time we leave. I will get the car ready.” Seokjin announces, sounding breathless due to the kiss. 

“I will quickly see Hyeri.” You nod. 

“I will walk you out.” Yoongi joins even when he absolutely didn’t have to. 

You two get into the elevator after you exchange a quick bye and a hug with Hyeri. She had pinned him down with a glare but he didn’t care. He needs to talk to you, even when he doesn’t know what he should say. 

“Thanks for coming.” he starts. 

You scoff, “Are you mocking me?” 

He turns his head to look at you. Your lipstick is a little smeared around the small of your mouth - it’s Seokjin’s doing, he wants to rub it off, preferably with his tongue. 

Fuck! No! He scolds himself before opening his mouth to offer an explanation, “No. You joining us tonight have been fruitful to me. I got answers to so many of my questions.” 

“What?” you chuckle humorlessly, “what question? That you are finally ready to tie the knot? That you-” 

Yoongi grabs you by the lapels of your winter coat and crashes his lips on you. Later, he will blame it on his intrusive thoughts. Now, he will let himself enjoy it. 

He kisses you with intent, sucks your lower lip as if it’s his first meal after days. You stay unmoving, not kissing him but not pushing him away either. 

He bites on your lower lip, asking for entrance. You put your hands on his chest and push him away lightly. 

Your pupils are blown out. There are so many questions dancing around your eyes. Yoongi is sure he has answers to none of it. 

Your face remains blank. 

“I won’t ask you what the fuck was that. Guess we are even now.” you say. The elevator dings as if to rescue you from him. You walk out without glancing at him again. 

He remains in the elevator, watches as the door shuts, cutting you off of his line of sight. 

Yoongi really fucked up a big time.  

Read the full Series here

[acmeangel]

Regrets | One Shot

Postwar!Levi one shot. A bit angsty. SFW. Postwar!Levi struggles with feelings of guilt, regret, and self-worth, and he finally talks to you about it. Word Count: 1487 (I couldn't stop thinking about Levi dealing with the aftermath of everything, adjusting to his new physical state, and how he'd feel about having been responsible for the kids on Levi Squad.)

Levi has a hard time accepting help from you. You have to help him in little ways, ways that feel natural.

Some nights, you massage his hand where the fingers are missing because you can tell by the tension in his forehead that it's bothering him. When you're reading together, you always sit on his left side, where he can see you better. You subtly place things -- teacups, books, pens, his folded piles of clothes -- within his reach from his wheelchair.

He'd never ask you directly to do any of this.

God, no.

He considers it a miracle that you'd settled for him in the first place - and a fragile one, at that. To him, your relationship is a house of cards. If he makes one unpredictable movement, says one shitty comment that came out wrong, places one more burden on you, it'll fall apart in his hands.

To him, he's no better than an ugly, battered stray dog with a bad history of biting. And he wants, so badly, to be good, for you.

He thinks you're attached to him by a fraying thread that could break from a breeze; you know his soul, his heart are stitched onto yours.

So, you help him.

And when he talks about it all, which is rare, you listen.

The first time you made him dinner, he ate all of the sides, then pushed the meat around with his fork for a while, before saying he'd lost his appetite.

Later, without looking at you, he told you, "One of the kids. From before. She was obsessed with food. It was disgusting, the only thing she ever talked about. Her last damn word was 'meat'. Fucking ridiculous." He took a long pause, then added, "I didn't even hear it, though. I... was in the other room."

He's never brought it up again.

Another time, he came home, muttering about how Gabi said something that sounded like something Eren would say. You lost track of how long he sat by the window, looking into his teacup that night.

You've seen him interact with Gabi and Falco a few times before. You see the wheels turn in his head before he says anything to them, as if he has to triple-check his words.

That, so far, was the only other time he's mentioned any of those kids.

He's told you about his other fallen friends and comrades before -- not in too much detail, but enough. But, those were adults. This is different.

When it came to that group of kids, he barely said a word. Really, you only knew their names, and the papers were partially to blame for that.

You wish, more than anything, that he'd open up to you. You know that he tries.

You're at home, now, and you hear the front door open and close. Your eyes fixate on the doorway to the living room, where he'd always appear. Normally, he'd go to you, place a bag from the bakery in your lap (he'd tell you some excuse about it being on the way home, but really, he just liked how those stupidly fancy pastries made you stupidly happy). Normally, he'd hold your hand and listen to your stories from the day -- things that made you laugh, complaints, the book you're reading. Normally, he'd make small comments as you talked, or scoff, or grunt in agreement. Sometimes, he'd even laugh, briefly.

But this time, he doesn't appear in the doorway. You rise from the couch and make your way down the hall, the warm glow of the bathroom light from under the door catching your eye. You stop outside the door and listen, to make sure he's okay, but you hear nothing.

You stand there for a while, until you hear a soft "Fuck."

You knock on the door, lightly. "Levi, you okay?" Your eyes sear into the door, as if your gaze alone is enough to open it, for him to let you in.

"Yeah, fine." His voice is rough, low. "I'll be out in a minute."

"Can I come in?"

The question hangs in the air for a small eternity.

A long sigh. "Okay."

You open the bathroom door. The abandoned wheelchair catches your gaze first. Then you see him, standing - standing - at the sink, clutching onto the edge of it, knuckles burning white with unyielding determination that borders on desperation. The muscles in his arms look like ropes. His head is tilted downward; he feels like that dog.

"Levi." It's the only word you can say.

"I know," he says, teeth gritted, and he can't meet your eye. To him, he doesn't deserve to see whatever sympathy is in your gaze - it'd only be wasted.

"Come here." Your voice is soft, gentle, and you stretch your arms out to him. It takes a long moment, but he finally accepts. His hands grab onto your arms as you help lower him back into his wheelchair. You kneel next to him, you take his hand in yours.

"Levi," you say, your voice urging him to look at you, "Talk to me. What's going on? You know you can't stand like that..."

He looks at you, finally, and though his expression gives away nothing, you can sense the despair, hidden away in the corners of his eyes.

"I can't do anything, Y/N," he says. "I couldn't do anything then, I can't do anything now. I can't even take a shit without almost falling first."

Your grip on his hand tightens. Your thumb traces circles on his wrist, and you can feel his heart racing.

"Did something happen today?"

"No. Yes. Fucking hell." He takes a breath. "Gabi asked me something today. I don't remember what. Doesn't matter. But, I don't know where she got the idea that I'm someone to go to for advice. Maybe I'm just being an asshole about it."

"Levi," you try to soothe him. "Whatever it was, she asked you because she trusts you. She knows you, she was there with you through... a lot. And, even aside from that... you have so much to offer. You might not see it, but you help me all the time."

"Offer?" The word barely makes a sound. "You know what was one of the first pieces of advice I ever gave Eren? I told the little bastard to make the decisions he wanted, whether it meant betting on his own strength or trusting the rest of us. I told him to do whatever he wanted, as long as it'd make him have no regrets."

"Is that what this is all about?" Your free hand finds his knee, a gentle pressure. His eyes look into yours, pleading, as if they're the only things keeping him anchored.

"God." He whispers, his voice more strained than you've ever heard. He breathes in sharply, a slight tremor to his breath. You see the veins in his neck strain. "What the hell were they thinking? Putting me in charge of those kids, as if I had any right to be, what, some sort of moral compass? Me? All I did is let them get blood on their hands. I didn't even try to stop them. And now I can't take my own shitty advice."

Your eyes remain locked into his; if he's the ship in a storm, you'll be the sails.

"You did the best you could," you whisper, so delicately, as if the air surrounding you both could shatter. "And I know you don't want to hear that. But, it's the truth. And your advice wasn't shitty, it was realistic. All of you were faced with impossible odds, and you did the best with what little you had. There wasn't an outcome where everyone would've made it, unscathed. I know you know that. And I know that none of those kids regret having you as their Captain."

His jaw clenches so hard you see it in his temples. He pulls you closer, with an urgency you've never seen from him before. Really, you've never seen any of this from him before.

His face finds its way to the crook of your neck, where it fits perfectly. It always has.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" His words are muffled against your skin. But before you can answer, he cries. He cries. Not hard, not even with sound. But you feel the hot tears press against the skin of your neck; you feel, for a moment, as if it could leave a permanent mark, somehow.

"Nothing, Levi," you whisper, your hand stroking the back of his hair, your other arm wrapped around his back. "You're only human. And I'll do my best to prove that to you. I'll be gentle with you, even when you don't think you deserve it. Especially then."

Human. Distinctly, not a dog. Not a tool. Not a weapon.

"I have so many regrets, Y/N. But you'll never be one of them. I'm sure of that."

Masterlist

[grinnames]

HOW THE HECK DID THIS HAPPEN AND WHY ARE YOU ALL HERE

200+ followers.

We are over 200 followers strong already folks.

What do I even say?! Well I gotta say something, because it's been over a month since I hit this milestone, and I finally got all other ideas finished.

SO! Let's start with saying that I am incredibly and forever grateful and lucky that this has happened to me and that I get to do this online and that so many people enjoy my work. I've always been an outsider looking in, always the spectator, and never the performer. For so long, I have dreamed of finally being the person on the other side of the screen, making countless people smile and maybe even brighten up their day just a little bit. It feels like I've only just started making content on Tumblr SINCE LAST AUGUST, and I'm already having to write grandiose thank-you letters!

On a more serious note, I had been going through a rough time for the past few months, just a little after I started Tumblr. I had just transferred to a new school, and have had to leave all my friends behind for a second time. The transition period was hard, and I had never felt so lonely in a long while, but coming back online to see you interacting with my blog always brightened up my day. I've come to learn and accept that sometimes, online communities can be just as good as in-person communities, though it did take some getting used to!

Speaking of grandiose thank-you letters, let's get on to acknowledging some VIPs!

First, thank you everyone that has decided to hit the follow button, and for giving me a chance! It really feels validating, and motivated to continue working on and posting my story!

Also, I would like to thank God for gifting me with artistic talent and the drive to hone it at the tender age of five. He's given me so many opportunities to practice my craft, and He continues to give me more chances to use my gift for the happiness of others, and for myself. Without Him, I wouldn't be the person I am today.

@novajuniper! You know who you are to me. So I'm just here to remind everyone what you did. YOU ARE MY BEST FRIEND IRL AND YOU ENCOURAGED ME TO START TUMBLR IN THE FIRST PLACE! You were also one of my first and only fans of my art for a very very long time. Everyone, let's give it up for the OG!!

@oppsiedoo! YOU. You were one of my first fans that gave me FANART! The first Godbox AU fanart came from you, and the first Grinnames fanart came from you! And then you kept giving me more! I'm honestly sometimes a little concerned with the amount of fanart you do for me and my work. Surely you have other creators you look up to?! But thanks for giving me that much support since the beginning when I was small! I felt so validated and seen!

@bow-and-aro-child and @smgx-pez! I always remember you because you were some of the first people to notice Godbox AU! Though we don't interact much, I very much appreciate that you stuck around! You two often appear as my top-fans on my Activities page!

Also @smgx-pez you were also one of my first reblogs. It was the one where you compared Rewrite Sonic to Godbox SMG4, and my stomach kinda dropped in a nervous but excited way! That thread where you found out I actually was inspired by Rewrite is something I will never forget because that's how I discovered that Tumblr was chill like that! Thanks for representing Tumblr!

@hexsie! You were also one of my first reblogs! I was so young and inexperienced on this platform and some stranger (you) sends me some OOC drawing of your OC hugging my boys... I have to admit I was very flattered but so stunned that I didn't know how to respond. Well, now here's the response! I now think that this interaction was hilarious! Thank you for being my introduction into the SMG4 community! Looking forward to that Hexsie lore!

(It's always been the Hug Saga, hasn't it...? From the very beginning...)

@smg6-the-memer! My first asker! You probably submitted the most asks to my ask box as well! That's how I remember you! I had actually not intended to start asks at the time, but the askbox was open by default, so I just went along with it because I HAD ALWAYS WANTED AN ASKBLOG. So thank you for being the push!

@supern0vashii! The infamous Starter of the Hug Saga! Also currently the Ender of the Hug Saga! (for now) We've come full circle! Honestly, Hug Saga was fun, and it's all thanks to you reaching out to me! You also started the Godboxified OC trend with SMG6... you really be out there trailblazing! I've always enjoyed redesigning my OCs to fit AUs... so to have people doing the same for MY AU?! IT FEELS SO AMAZING! Thank you!

@bear-boi-5! My first mutual that isn't @novajuniper! (she doesn't count because I met her IRL before tumblr) When you followed me back you have no idea how shocked and excited I was. I'm not really interested in the fandoms you draw for now, I mostly followed you for your amazing SMG4 au art (Monster Containment AU is my favorite! It's what got me to follow you!) but I'm sticking around because of the sentiment and I also like your vibes!

@michaelscorneroftheinternet! Holy hell. You are one of the creators that I really look up to! Your art-style is just so yummy! So I kind of, may have, freaked out when you joined the Godboxified OC trend AND followed me back! ON TOP OF THAT, YOU SAID I'M ONE OF YOUR FAVORITE CREATORS TOO?! I nearly died from all the happiness rushing up to my head! Not to mention, I really love your energy whenever you reblog stuff! It's rather infectious! Keep up the good work!

@libbytwq! I also look up to you! We may not have interacted much, but I am honored that you follow me back! I really enjoy watching SMGL:e's silly little adventures and interactions with other OCs! So much so that I was inspired by you to later publish some lore about my own OC Grinnames herself! I'm looking forward to some more delicious lore-drops in the future!

@purpdrawsthings! You are probably one of the the NICEST most BUBBLY people I have met on this platform! I just like watching you be nice to people and the fanart you make of other creators' AUs! Not to mention your own AUs are mighty interesting... I want to be as nice as you when I interact with other blogs! Also MY SONA BECAME AN ANIMATION IN YOUR CHRISTMAS VIDEO, SHE'S GOING PLACES THANKS TO YOU!

@bstroobery! specifically @bluestrawberrybunny, Apprenticeship AU is actually one of the first SMG4 fanfics I decided to sit down, lock in, and read through. And over time, your OCs SMG5 and SMG6 really grew on me! I also liked that you were open to AU interactions in your askbox, and crossovers have always been my sort of thing, so I decided that your askbox would be the first I would interact with! Thank you for being so chill with me!

@clowntrickery08! My latest mutual! Dude I really like your artstyle, and its super easy to tell that its you! The way you draw characters is really charming! So I can say for certain that I WAS SO EXCITED WHEN YOU DREW MY BOYS IN YOUR STYLE. Also I really like your sona's design! Also, your concept for SMGPuzzles and SMGWren is SO COOL that I am gonna play around with it sometimes!

@itz-miss-kamilyvision! My god, your OC has a whole-ahh saga in Godbox AU. You having your OC have so many interactions with my boys was so much fun to watch! Thank you doing all that, I always love making characters interact and you gave me just that over and over again! I also like seeing your OCs lore, and the other interactions you have with other creators!

@alan-william! The one who turned ME into a gacha character AND animated me! But what I appreciated the most is how you made my sona interact with yours and also Micheal's. That is the closest thing to real human interaction to me on this platform, and something that I've enjoyed the most here is finding community, and I really feel connected with you!

@birdy-four! We haven't interacted that much, but to this day, that giant reblog of Godbox AU Chapter 0 with you word-vomiting everywhere about my fanfic is my favorite reblog of all time! I sometimes go back and read it again because while most people see my art, they don't really get to see my writing, and I've never gotten feedback like this before!

@smg33exe! And last but not least, the one that put my boy Godbox!SMG4 in a gacha video! BECAUSE OF YOU I MADE IT ONTO YOUTUBE! Thank you for throwing my creation out there on the web, and for creating a video that I sometimes come back to just to marvel at what I've become!

As for the rest of you... I have planned something that everyone can partake in! Stay tuned, I just need to finish preparing it...

[genderqueerdykes]

My MtF friend and I got on the topic of TME/TMA bullshit the other day and she pointed out something I wanted to share (with her permission) "The whole concept of TME/TMA can even result in trans women never wanting to come out to avoid being associated with such shitty believes. If my first interactions in the trans community was someone who believed in it I would probably never admit to myself that I was trans cuz I don't want to associate with a group whose entire personality seems to be victimizing the trauma olympics I-Am-The-Main-Character all in one. Hell they would've probably told me I wasn't actually a trans woman just because my egg cracked late and exclude me anyway."

thank you so much for taking the time to send this, i really appreciate it, because your friend said it better than i ever could've.

I don't want to associate with a group whose entire personality seems to be victimizing the trauma olympics I-Am-The-Main-Character all in one.

this is something i've been wanting to flat out say for a while, so thank you very much for this. it literally is very VERY petty behavior at this point and i'm not humoring it anymore. we have to call things for what they are and admit that a lot of transfems are using this as an opportunity to wallow in their misery so they can control others to make themselves feel better because they feel powerless in cisheteronormative patriarchy. it's not fun or quirky or progressive.

i am very much over making queerness about who is the most oppressed or who is the biggest victim. i feel like a lot of people forgot what a victim complex is for the sake of mining pats on the back from strangers. so many transfeminine people right now are replacing their personalities with being a victim and it needs to come to an end. womanhood is not about being a victim, no matter how hard that woman has it. a lot of transfems genuinely do have this "I Am The Main Character" behavior. a lot of transfems genuinely do believe they are the protagonists of the queer community due to how bad they have it. we have to call it for what it is at this point. it's not an attack to say it.

i've been trying to point this out for quite a while: the TME/TMA binary and man/masc hating in general hurts trans women who are questioning, just now learning about transness, stealth, need to stay in the closet, are never transition, who struggle to pass, who don't want to pass, who are butch, who are gender non conforming, and those who are also men. but this especially hurts questioning and newly introduced trans women because nobody wants to be told that they're shitty for being a man one day, and then babied and patted on the back for being a woman the next. the whiplash from that would be damaging alone

your friend brings up a good point too because what about the trans women whose eggs crack later in life? what about those who don't realize they're a woman until they're in their 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s...? what about trans women who only interact with or present their womanhood sometimes? what about trans women who are content being seen as a man in society, but still identify as a woman inside? what about the trans women who don't ever want to tell another soul but are still women despite that?

this behavior hurts genderfluid and butch transfems a lot. this behavior harms masculine trans women so badly. there are transfeminine butches that want to present butch and i don't care if you read them as a "Cishet man" that's a trans butch and they're not obligated to be less masculine for anyone to accept them. trans butches face so much bullshit for how they dress, appear and act. i'm sorry not everyone's womanhood is feminine, but transfeminine butches deserve to present however the hell they want to and not have anyone call their identity into question.

it really affects trans women who don't pass, don't try to or don't want to.

it really affects trans women of color.

this behavior hurts so many people and i really want everyone to understand a lot of those people... are trans women. please be more considerate of those around you. thanks for taking the time to send this anon, i really appreciate it. you can let your friend know that was deeply insightful & exactly a point i've been trying to make for months. thank you both. have a great week, stay safe

[spacegyaru]

cw: michael kaiser x afab! reader. all characters are aged 21+! (in this case, they're both 23) + pls don't read this if u haven't seen the first and second part. huge angst and confrontation. make up sex in the end so minors, dni! also, i tried my best to make it in character. i personally believe that kaiser is a cocky asshole except if the person he interacts with is someone who knows him from the past, or someone he's attached to in the past. so yep, i tried making him in character! 

part 1 / part 2 / this is pt. 3!

also here's my masterlist if you wanna see more 😉

word count: 1.7k+ words

three years after separation, you meet again in unexpected circumstances. but is it too late?

it's been three years since that time you forgot about michael kaiser. you were so hurt by what happened. it's as if he just left you in the air.

because of that, you just focused on your career and in working at the bakery. eventually, you've finished the culinary program that you were taking and was able to focus fully on your family business. apparently, you had to take over because both your parents are considering retirement. so you've worked on your way to the top. 

to you, kaiser became nothing but a painful memory. you thought he would protect you, but he was the first one to break your heart that way. anyway, you got over it and eventually accepted what happened. as what people say ‘it is what it is’. 

your bakery got bigger. aside from offering bread and pastries as menu, you also started serving other delicacies like meat, chicken, and etc. you made it really big and out of the slums when you decided to level things up by adding other recipes on the menu. 

you were able to invest a lot on yourself. you brought your family out of the slums and were able to help build a house for your parents in the rural area, as what they wanted for their retirement. you were also able to buy a car, your own house (out of the slums), and the small bakery that you owned no longer sits at the downtown slum area, but it is now located in the bustling streets of berlin.

as business continued to succeed, you decided to explore the world of catering. and boi, everyone loved it! you were striving as a successful person in the business industry. until eventually, a big offer landed on you.

you were asked to cater a huge ball for german celebrities. feeling great about the deal, you immediately accepted it.

tbh, you got a lot going on that you forgot about kaiser. from time to time, you would see him on tv, and you would think of the good old times. it would make you sad how things ended between the both of you, but then again, you’ve moved on. your heart hurts sometimes, but it's okay. things happen. 

so the day came. you were at the big event, in a huge venue. your staff worked in the kitchen while you were fixing everything— from decorations, to the food preparation, and to serving the food. you were kind struck in awe as you saw loads of people around. 

the night was normal. that was until you were serving some red wine to the guests and eventually, you bumped on someone. your eyes widened and apologized immediately.

“...y/n?” when you heard that, you stopped apologizing. your eyes widened as you saw him— michael kaiser.

you did not say anything. you stood up and stared at him for seconds before awkwardly leaving him alone. you formally apologized for the suit and left. you acted like a total stranger to him. and it made him a little bit confused. 

you tried so hard to avoid kaiser the whole night. you thought you already moved on but when you saw him, you felt your world crumbled. you remember the pain of losing someone important to you, and the pain of losing a best friend. the guy who ruined the whole concept of having a first love for you. 

after the event, one of the organizers called you and told you that one of the biggest investors for the event wanted to thank you personally and is waiting in his private suite. you didn't think about it that much so you followed along. 

and that investor is… of course, it's michael kaiser. when you saw him, you sighed and attempted to walk away, but he held your wrist as if he didn't want to let you go. 

when kaiser hugged you, you just stood there, feeling his touch. he back hugged you when you were trying to leave. your hand was still on the door knob, and your urge to leave was still there. but you seem to be so weak when it comes to his touch. 

“y/n, i've missed you…” kaiser said while hugging you. you just clicked your tongue and freed yourself from his hug. you gave him a look filled with irritation.

you reminded kaiser that he was the one who left. your voice was filled with bitterness while you said it. 

his brows furrowed and sighed while he said, “i know i did hurt you but please, just give me a chance? come on, we could make it work this time.”

you wanted to be harsh on him, but you also longed for him to the point that you still stood there and gave him a chance to explain. 

and he did. kaiser said that he would be guilty if you guys actually got together and he didn't give your relationship enough time. “liebling, i was so busy that time and i was so afraid of the fact i'll hurt you if i'll always be away. you have to forgive me. it's been lonely without you…” 

you looked at him for a moment before starting to embrace him. and he did hugged you back as if he will never let go. you didn't know what to expect when he eventually planted a kiss on your lips. 

kaiser’s kiss still felt the same. it gives you butterflies in the stomach. your heart felt warm as he held your hips. you started kissing back, but you pulled away. 

you looked at him with widened eyes as you realized what you did. you gave in to him again. after staring at him for seconds, you ran away out of the room. you swear you're gonna check the guestlist before accepting a big offer like that. 

days later, you were at your own restaurant, managing things on your own. you were about to head inside after throwing the trash, when someone suddenly dragged you. the man seem to wear a suspicious disguise. you were about to scream when he took off his face mask. of course, who? it's kaiser. michael kaiser. why is he so persistent in winning you back?

after few minutes, you found yourself inside his car. at the front seat. his car was parked in an empty alley. both of you didn't talk, until you broke the silence. you sighed before speaking. 

you asked him to explain the reason why he left. and then he did try to explain himself. his football career took a toll on him and he just knew that he would never have the time for you.

“i know i screwed up, but my career really got busy so i already knew that i would never have the time for you. but now, i'd be willing to give you more attention that you deserve.” 

after saying that in a more serious tone, kaiser began kissing your knuckles… then eventually, he ended up kissing you. and you… you ended up kissing back. you can't just resist his touch. 

both of you ended up making out in his car, until he carried you at the backseat. you continued your heated makeout session with your tongues battling with each other. his hands were placed on your hips, caressing your ass, while you focused on pulling him closer to you. 

the foreplay felt really nice. his tongue was on your neck while your knee was rubbing his cock, making sure he felt good. he smirked at your actions.

“since when did my little virgin liebling learned this? were you a bad girl while i was away?” 

you shook your head. you've given your entire focus on improving your career while he was gone. you thought you've moved on but here you are. still craving for the touch you felt years ago. 

“so you were a good girl all this time? i bet you waited for me.” kaiser gave you one kiss before lining the tip of his cock on the slit of your pussy. “you deserve to feel so good tonight, so i just want you to lay there, love. let me do everything.” 

again, you felt the tip of his cock enter your pussy. it's as if you were a virgin again. it's embarrassing to admit, but the last time you had sex was also three years ago. and it's still with michael kaiser.

kaiser stared at you as your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape while he was deep balls inside you. he couldn't believe what he was missing out on all these years. he tried so much to forget you, having hook ups here and there, but you were always in his mind. 

his thrusts were sensual at first, and he as rubbing your clit. it felt like he actually wanted to make you feel good. he tried kissing you as your legs locked around his waist. kaiser tried to put one of them around his arm as he looked into your eyes and french kissed you again.

as time went by, kaiser's thrusts became erratic. you could just imagine how his car looked like while he was making you see stars. you felt his cock twitching as he began to whisper into your ears.

“how is it, my love? are you cumming? i want you to say my name. tell the world who makes you feel good.” 

you moaned kaiser's nickname ‘mihya’ loudly while he rubbed your clit more as he spurted his juices inside you. you ended up squirting on his cock too. after that, both of you looked at each other while panting. a small smirk was placed on his lips. 

when the both of you got dressed, kaiser tossed you something. you caught it with your two hands. it was a set of keys. you asked what's that for, while looking at him in curiosity. 

“in case you still don't think i'm serious, here's the key to my house. and if you're wondering about the address, check your pocket later.” 

oh boy. kaiser might've started off as rocky at first, but upon realizing that you were the only one for him and that there's no one else like you, he knew he'd do everything to win you back. there's nobody else in this world could love you like he does. 

a/n: anddd i'm done with this for now 🤭 my next one will be reo x stripper reader 💗

[breakfastteatime]

As I am once again a querying writer™️, I thought I would share some general thoughts, feelings and tips about how to cope with what can be a long, drawn out, and incredibly hard experience.

With every query I send out, I expect rejection but hope for the best. Pessimistic perhaps, but I've found it really, really helps. To be clear, rejection never feels great (not even the personalised ones), but by expecting agents to pass on the submission, even from those who seem so perfect for the book, takes some of the sting out of it.

So, here we go: Breakfast Tea’s querying advice!

Ignore stories about other people’s querying journeys. You’ll hear about people who get signed by the first agent they query with the first book they ever wrote. Good for them. A friend of mine won a competition and agents came to her begging to represent her. Amazing for her, but those examples are also highly unrealistic for the majority. I’m on my sixth attempt (4 YAs – three of which were not good enough to be submitted in retrospect, and 1 adult thriller I’m still kinda bummed about but oh well!) and though I’m feeling really, REALLY good right now, I also don’t expect to get anywhere. I’m gonna shout from the hilltops if I do, buuuuut I also don’t expect to land an agent (as explained above). And if I don’t, well, onto attempt number 7!

Start writing something new as soon as you can. Ideally original fiction because agents will ask you what else you’re working on – and sometimes even ask you to outline this in the query letter (although I don’t think I’ve submitted to anyone like that in *years*). That friend of mine from above says agents also expect you to be in the same genre with the next project, so don’t query an adult thriller and tell them you’re now working on a picture book for toddlers.

If you can't write something new yet, find other distractions. Anything to take your mind off waiting for responses.

Have a rejection coping strategy in place. I find the first few don’t really bother me because of the whole ‘expect rejection’ mindset I try to have, but after a while they really, really, REALLY start to bring me down. Mine is usually eating cake and/or other little treats. Something that just reminds me I exist beyond my writing.

Accept the loss of control. Oh man, I hate this. I haaaaaaaaaaate this. Once that query package is sent out, that’s it. You’re out of control of the whole situation and you’re waiting either for a rejection, a full request, or just eternal silence. Thankfully most agencies are better now at specifying that silence = rejection. Patience is essential. I’ll let you know if I ever get any better at it.

You will get silences on full requests. You shouldn’t, but you will. I’ve had several. It is incredibly rude and exceedingly frustrating, but that’s querying for you. Even after chasing some agents just will not respond.

You may also get really rude rejections. Back in the 2010s I had one post about my story ON HER TWITTER PAGE after she rejected me. Like literally, I got the rejection and then I saw her tweet. Arsehole. And no, I can’t remember her name because I would publicly shame her. I’ve had rejections that were a sentence, I’ve had rejections that made no sense, I’ve had multiple rejections from the same agent on the one book I sent, I’ve had agents reject me by the wrong name, I’ve had agents reject me using the wrong pronouns (my name is traditionally masculine so my pronouns are in my submission). If you get something like that, blacklist them from any future projects. You deserve better.

I prefer form rejections to silence unless the agency specifies a timescale for ‘silence = rejection’. I personally prefer the certainty of a rejection. I know, weird.

Always chase agents who say it’s okay to chase them. You never know!

Personalised rejections are nice to receive. Oh, they still suck, but it’s a sign you’re on the right lines. And if an agent says ‘please submit your next project to me’ take them up on it.

If an agent forwards your work onto another agent who ‘may be more suited’ get excited but stay realistic. Many years ago, I had a project move between three agents (one of whom I’ll be submitting to again with this project). None of them signed me, but oooh it was so thrilling for a while! It was my second project – a YA sci-fi that actually got the most amount of requests of anything I’ve ever sent out. It will never see the light of day.

Don’t be disheartened if you submit to a contest and don’t get chosen – still query traditionally. Same if you submit to a course and don’t get selected. Agents don’t tend to read the submissions – readers do – so the agent won’t have seen your work yet.

You’re absolutely allowed to feel like shit and to cry about being rejected, but you gotta get back up and keep querying and keep writing.

You’ve got to be in the right headspace for querying. The last time I did it, I had to stop because I’d just started a new job with a huge new learning curve, and I couldn’t manage queries and new job at the same time. I resumed querying a long time later once I felt more settled.

Do not lie to agents. Now, this may be more specific to the UK, but agenting is a really small world and they all talk. So if you try to nudge an agent by going “Oh, another agent has a full request” or “another agent has offered representation” and that’s not true? You’re fucked.

Celebrate a full request – but stay realistic.

Agents will reject the same book for totally different reasons. I had one agent reject a horror novel because it wasn’t scary enough, and another because it was too scary. It’s all very subjective.

Agents are not rejecting you as a human being, they are saying no to what is essentially a business proposal. It’s a really strange way to look at it, but you are more than your writing!!!!!

Okay, I think that’ll do for now! Feel free to drop me an Ask if you wanna know more!

[tmntstorycomp]

A deep sigh.

That’s the only sound that escaped his lips after what felt like years sitting at this desk. His hands shook. He blinked, squeezing his eyes shut tight until the cracks of light through his eyelids blurred into a messy blur. New moisture stung his dry eyes, demanding that he take a rest from everything. 

But resting had never really been his strong suit. The family that he ran with, sitting still wasn’t really all it cracked up to be. Sometimes, he swore his father was still bouncing off the walls. And to be honest, he wasn’t all that far behind him. 

But now, he just felt… Tired.

Massy slowly opened his eyes, glancing over at the water bottle on his desk. It wasn’t quite empty. He would argue there was enough in the bottom to keep him hydrated for a few more hours, but it couldn’t hurt to stretch his legs. Slowly, feeling the creak in his young bones, he pushed himself up out of his chair. The wheels squeaked some, Massy cringed as the sound seemed to echo through his room. 

Massy looked back down at the chair, rubbing his lip before he snagged the bottle. Decorating the bottle were various stickers– His father had gotten into making them more, said he felt like he could make a small profit off his art. His uncle Donnie said it was unnecessary, they had all the money they could need with their tech company that was developed. 

Massy’s father was always a free spirit.

Which brought him back to identity. This past year has been a battle of identity, searching for anything that could be latched onto. He thought he had found it, truly. He was the child of Michelangelo and Taina, two mutants who loved each other once upon a time. Two mutants who loved him, each in their own ways. And such things were accepted by Massy. Massy was part of the Hamato Clan, the youngest member- No, the second youngest. He had a cousin now.

Casey Jones. Not to be confused with Cassandra Jones, or with C.J. Jones. There were too many Casey’s in his life, it was confusing enough. However, Casey Jones Junior (the baby) was born just a few months ago. He didn’t live in the lair, it shouldn’t affect him as much as it did. But Massy wasn’t the baby anymore. 

But, he was still a child. Technically. His birthday had passed, he was fifteen years old. How much of a baby can he be? 

So, he knew who he was. Knew who he was in respect to his family, at least. Even without his mother, he knew who he was. 

Massy was a writer. He loved stories, he loved writing, and he loved reading. These were things that he loved without a shadow of a doubt. These were pieces of his identity that were so etched into the walls of his heart that they changed his energy forever. 

If that were the case, if he were truly a writer…

Why was it so hard now?

Massy scoffed as he turned on his heel and made his way out of his bedroom, the open document on his laptop only having a measly paragraph on display. His hand pushed through the small amount of hair that he had-

Yeah, that was another change over the past year. Hair. His father told him that if he had his genes, there was a good chance that he would grow hair just like him. Massy knew it was coming, but he just didn’t expect it to take a.. Toll. 

But appearance had just as much to do with your identity as your heart did, did it not?

Massy walked into the kitchen, pausing as he saw the timer on the stove quietly ticking away. He leaned down to peek into the oven and saw what appeared to be a lasagna baking inside. He blinked slowly, what time was it?

Massy turned and looked at the clock on the wall, the one that read 6:43 p.m…

When did it get so late?

Or.. Early?

Massy didn’t know how long he had been awake for, but he walked over to the coffee maker that was far too high tech for this kitchen. He slowly set his water bottle down on the counter and pulled a mug down from the cabinet. Massy set it in the machine before pressing a few buttons, looking over the machine with a small sigh. The machine hissed at him before pouring the coffee into the mug. Perfect mix of coffee and creamer, a teenage dream.

“You know, you’re still too young for a caffeine addiction,”

Massy turned slowly to catch his father walking into the kitchen. Mikey walked over, his hand coming up to the back of Massy’s head to angle his head downwards. He planted a kiss on the crown of Massy’s head, smiling as Massy groaned in response.

“I’m just tired, I don’t want to fall asleep before dinner… That is dinner, right?” Massy asked as he gestured his hand towards the oven. Mikey nodded his head, taking a step back so he could pull the oven door open. 

“Yeah, I got a bit of a late start. You, however,” Mikey poked the end of Massy’s snout with his finger, “Should take a nap instead of consuming more caffeine. Caffeine can only sustain you for so long, sleep will help you re-energize your brain,”

Massy shrugged his shoulders as he went to grab the mug of coffee, only for Mikey’s hand to lightly swat his. 

“But dad, I’m trying to write-”

“How long have you been trying?” Mikey cut him off, and the question caused him to take pause. His jaw clenched for a moment and he looked down at his hands as they rested at his side, they were still shaking. 

“Exactly. Massy, I know being creative is hard right now-”

“It’s not.”

“... But when you drain yourself like this, you can’t think straight. I promise, a nap will help you feel better. Now, go. I’ll wake you up when dinner is ready,” Mikey offered a small smile. Massy frowned to himself, running his fingers through his hair. Weird.

“I.. Okay…”  Massy responded softly, he snagged his water bottle and walked over to the sink to fill it back up with water. As he did so, Mikey walked about behind him gathering fruit from the fruit bowl, likely to make a smoothie. 

Massy watched for a moment, tightening the top of his water bottle. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe to let an ‘I love you’ slip by. 

But he didn’t.

Massy clenched his jaw and turned back to his room, his thumb rubbing over the worn edge of a sticker. Fine, he would take a nap.

Then he would get back to work.

[polyamorousmood]

It's not exactly poly-related, but I don't know other blog with life advices, so. Maybe you have an idea what to do with frustration from being the one "normal" between your friends and partners? I'm only one without any confirmed diagnosis (we have consensus that something definitely not right there, but no one can be sure if this an adhd or chronic tiredness or I'm just born this way etc). And in practice it means that I'm the one that should adapt to everyone's quirks. I'm the one that will make decisions when no one else can. I'll be cleaning because everyone's too depressed, I'll offer comfort when someone's triggered, I can't drop my work no matter what because everyone else disabled and can be unemployed for years, etc. Don't get me wrong, I like be the one that's stable and can help, I thrive on being useful. But also sometimes it's horrifies me that I don't have any room for error, not in small things (because what can be a small thing for me can badly trigger other person) and definitely not in big (because no one would be there to pick things up). I'm working two jobs now and still mostly the one that usually cleans and cooks and thinks about things like what we will gift to that or this friend and how to pay our credit card etc. And I understand that I'm in this position because others literally have it worse! But I'm at the point where small adjustments in plans makes me see red and it's not great for everyone. No I'm not utterly underappreciated and sometimes people drops "it must be hard for you" or "you probably disabled too I don't know how you handle it so well" into conversation, but it's not like words help when I literally need for people to just deal with at least some shit. Also yes I have some control freak tendencies but they are built on the experience thst people *won't* do shit or will do it incorrectly and I'll need to redo it anyway, so I can't just "let it go". No one there malicious and I *want* to be good and accepting friend and partner. I just really tired and don't know what to do.

yeahhhh you don't really go here [insert Mean Girls gif] I mean maybe you do but this isn't the thing I'm here for blah blah so no offense, but you're not getting my best, here

See a therapist, work on ✨️boundaries✨️

No one is going to die if the dishes go unwashed a couple days longer than they should. Having someone to lean on when triggered is really nice! But panic attacks do pass on their own sooner or later. They'll be okay if you don't intervene on half of them. It feels bad and shit - I PROMISE, I get it - but I spent 6 months being 24/7 support for a suicidal person, and (aside from ensuring physical safety) me being their didn't usually help them out of the really bad moods any faster! And sure, maybe it spirals a bit with other people in the mix. That shit happens. It's okay.

Secodarily. Look at life structures and CHANGE THEM.

They can't do the dishes? Not even with a stool to sit on and video playing on their phone? Nobody can? Well then FUCK dishes, this is a paper plate household now!!

Youre the only one who can cook? Maybe like, full meals. But someone there other than you can handle fucking frozen pizzas and a kitchen timer, or microwave meals. Stock up. Stock up on snacks that require no cooking - eating those as a meal a couple times a week won't kill anyone.

80% of household shit can be made much easier in this way if you just adjust your standards a bit

I mean no disrespect at all for anyone disabled. But the vast majority of disabilities still allow you to contribute something at least sometimes.

Quite frankly, if i were in your shoes, I'd pick a couple chores I know a couple others can help with and make a group announcement I won't be doing those anymore -- ever. If they don't get done, it's their problem now, you're sorry, but you're burnt out, and you can't help them if you have a mental break.

And that last part is true, so I'd do this sooner rather than later.

Either way, I feel for you and your whole group. It sounds less than ideal for everyone, and I hope you can find something more easily sustainable soon

[secretwhumplair]

Beneath the temple

909 words | Under the eyes of the sun (start!)

Content | Captivity, stress position (kind of), sensory deprivation, religious themes, implied beating & non-con

Notes | My hand slipped. Meet an unfortunate little nobleman and his new divine, uh. Caretaker?!

I nicked the word "Ledan" from this excellent linguistics post bread clip Vetinari lives in my heart

At first, Tileno had cursed and screamed for help. Then, when he had realized it was true no one could hear him down here, he had started crying and begging the priest for mercy.

By now, if he managed anything, he was praying.

He was praying to Zaava, uncertain if any other gods could even hear him, here in the sacred ground of the sun temple — except of course the gods below, this being a crypt, and he wanted no dealings with them.

Maybe he would, eventually, pray to them to take him.

Sometimes, he felt like he couldn’t breathe, wrapped in the pitch-darkness of the crypt. With nothing else to focus on, the aches of his body became all-encompassing, accompanied only by his ragged breath and yet-flowing blood in his ears.

The cold on his naked body eased the burn of the ties around his wrists and ankles, the weight of his own body over the unforgiving stone coffin that had long since become painful, the bruises that bloomed all over his back and legs where the priest had struck him, over and over — or worse, when Tileno’s form so sinfully tempted him. Sometimes, he could imagine being wholly numb.

Time had become an incomprehsible thing. The priest arrived or didn’t arrive like a creature from another world, one Tileno was now banished from, the world of the living and virtuous.

He knew his eyes were losing their purpose when he saw a flicker of light in the darkness that simply couldn’t have been there, like daylight breaking through the solid earthen walls, cutting sharply into his eyes after so long in the dark before it disappeared.

He heard the familiar sound of the door above being unlocked, and the more plausible light of the little lantern the priest would carry with him on his visits licked the edges of his vision. The steps were only too familiar. Tileno had once regretted counting them, but now he knew them so well he could tell how close the priest was without a single coherent thought.

It was almost better than the nothingness that enveloped him when he was alone.

»I hope you accept justice today, child,« the priest’s cold voice said.

And that was when the light flooded the crypt.

Tileno couldn’t really know, after the dark. But his whole aching body, the warmth on his skin, told him this was daylight; the light of the sun.

He yelped with the pain of it, pressing his eyes closed as hard as he could.

Only belatedly did he register the scream of terror that had emanated from where the priest must stand; a soft thump followed, as if a pair of knees dressed in thick robes had hit the ground.

»My Ledan,« the priest whimpered. »My-«

»Silence.«

The voice echoed through the crypt with the same force as the light.

»Is this just? Answer me.«

»It — I-«

A sharp hiss, as if from a wild animal, and the priest screamed again.

»No, no,« the priest sobbed.

»You vowed to me service in furthering justice in the world.«

To me? Tileno’s breath caught. It made sense. It all made perfect sense, and he felt a terror grip him like nothing before. He had prayed to Them for help, for forgiveness, but would They-?

»You vowed to me as a sacrifice your celibacy, as well.«

Tileno’s heart stuttered. Zaava was still not talking to him — he knew now he would recognize with certainty if They were — but it was his fault, as well. He had seduced the priest.

»And you lied.«

»Mercy, my Ledan,« the priest whispered.

»Mercy is not justice.« The deity’s voice was a growl that drew goosebumps all over Tileno’s skin, even in Their warm light.

The priest made a strangled noise before he fell silent again, and Tileno only heard a whisper hissing in his direction, interrupted by occasional sobs. Then, »Leave.«

Hasty steps retreated up the stairs, and now it was Tileno who sobbed with fear. The light was still here; he was alone with the deity, and he didn’t know what They would do to him.

He blinked his eyes open, desperate for at least a hint. He had grown a little better accustomed to the light over the minutes that had passed, but it was still too bright, and the fact that he could see their soft-pawed feet on the ground before him with such clarity only underlined the sense that what he was really looking at was merely a mask, a trick of the mind, wrapping something far more incomprehensible.

A warm hand grabbed him by the chin and raised him. His restraints were gone, but his body still ached with the movement, joints breaking free from the positions they had been locked in, damaged skin stretching and shifting.

He found no words when he finally looked into Their golden eyes. They looked like the images found in their temples: the lioness’ face, the twelve-pronged antlers, the sun — the very sun — between them.

Zaava’s eyes seemed to look into his very soul.

»A great injustice has happened to you at the hands of one sworn to me. I will take care of you. Sleep now.«

And before Tileno could even process Their words, before he could feel more than a tentative sting of relief, before he could think and wonder and fear at what they meant, his soul had already obeyed the divine command.

[fewsystemsinonebody]

I think the difference is between when they splitted

alters who splitted during childhood turn[ed] into animals more often because I suppose as a kid it was easier to imagine yourself as an animal at the time as it seemed more possible/normal to identify/feel/act like an animal

when host first discovered our system it worked as it used to for ages so during toxic relationships we still splitted alters that had animal forms but because of shame towards our traits, being scared of losing control (as we kinda do when we regress to an animal) and wanting to be more normal during therapy we stopped splitting alters who had animal forms at all and a lot other things about how our system works now is different

still we do have trauma so the symptoms (identifying with a dog and acting like it) seem to be attached to some of us just much lighter this time so it's more passing/acceptable in society - Marco and his layer/subsystem (Vito, Five, Nin, Caspian, Koda Nova, Murphy, Bonny, Afsan, Mico, Soprano, Bronco) or however called the whole separate system in our head have canine traits (but very rarely and tiny ones) because they still are protectors and somehow carry a trauma - besides them moving their ears on the front (yep, we can do that), wrinkle their nose (it's really fascinating actually that we're able to do that exactly like dogs) also on the front, growling and showing teeth nothing else happens (for more animalistic traits please look lower)

some splits stopped turning into animals during our healing journey - our host used to turn into animals she loved identifying with them but, as I said, she was too scared of losing control (she was a cat, dog, raccoon), Dave, Arnie and Gru used to be dogs but both got better

still there are alters who are turn into animals:

Albert is a ferret and for majority of our life he was JUST an animal due to trauma and as a fragment - started having a human form few years ago and now he still adores to be an animal half of the time but because he was an animal for so long he is a bit challenged mentally (sorry if I use the wrong word as english isn't my native language so pls inform me if I offend anyone), he mades specific noises and bites and sometimes can't use his hands etc. (as a reminder - we often go mute and don't understand what someone is telling us when we turn into an animal - depends how hard) and also likes to hide around the house and pick up tiny things from the floor or play with various items

April turns into a cat when triggered usually as it's a reason of trauma, he hisses, meows, hides and possibly might scratch you but never happened before

Benji turns into a dog as he is an introject of the movie Benji and that is just part of his personality but also trauma related to dogs as I said, he can playflully bite, growls (yeah, we basically never bark - maybe it's because we had no right to "bark" if you know what I mean), jumps on his two legs like he is begging for something or sits like a dog etc.

Brie very rarely turns into a griffin but we don't know why exactly, we suspect some things but still are unsure, anyway... it happens in head space so the only trait we saw on the front about him was sitting/laying like a sphynx so we call him that as a joke

Brandon turns into a polar fox and hates it haha - he splitted from Jack who is a red fox because he introjected Robin Hood and it's also huge part of his personality, he was our first protector - they make fox sounds, Jack even laughs literally like a fox :D

Hakan splitted due to trauma and turns into a dog but not as often as he used to, he growls and usually acts like a dog with his whole body - laying or sitting etc.

Jacob turns into a polar bear because of his role but it happens very very rarely (during worst moments) so the only thing we noticed was him growling (additional fun fact - our jaw literally changes when we're angry - the lower part moves forward - we don't do that on purpose and we can't change it later willingly, we have to cool down)

Jimmy turns into a fennec fox and I am unsure if it's anything more than the fact he's personality is like that, as a reminder - our host was obsessed with animals during childhood (collecting articles from magazines, reading books about animals and watching shows in TV), he is very often turning into his animal form like Albert, he scratches and bites things, he's very fast not only when he walks but his movements and how he talks etc.

Jerry turns into a parrot - we know it's part of the trauma as well as his voice and how he acts matches, he uses his hands like wings sometimes for example opening them up for example and "dancing" but because of the human body it's actually hard for him to act more like a bird usually

Lio turns into a toad but we don't wanna talk about why and he had time he refused to turn into it anyway... but he can croak (his cheeks are blown at the time and it looks and sounds funny), he also has froggy facial expressions and will squat or something when scared

me... I turn into tasmanian devil, because I couldn't be a demon/devil but I was supposed to be like one so it was the closest match but I basically never turn into one

Marcel turns into a dragon - I should make a totally separate post about it as it's complicated why and how

Monty turns into a cat and he acts like one on the front often no matter what - it's part of the trauma too, he meows, purrs, bites, scratches things but he also moves his mustaches specific way, uses his hands like paws often, dances like a cartoon cat and much more - just... really a cat in a human form which is impressive (and he walks very quietly so mom always gets scared lol)

Nat turns into a wolf as a protector - the "higher" form of a dog, wilder, more dangerous, it's also related to our grandma, he also been a werewolf but he recovered, he can bite, growl, act like a dog bodily etc. and... howl (which he prefers to do when nobody hears him as he's embarassed)

most of us can wrinkle our nose or move our ears or scratch ourselves*

so yeah... it's not like we thought it's funny and decided to be animals as some said to us :)

Red and Pink aren't animalistic at all! they were part of another layer/subsystem or whatever as I said (sorry, I srsly don't know anymore which label is correct) that basically almost doesn't exist no more and among them there weren't any animals besides one who also turned into a dog

I hope that you find it interesting/educative but I also know we are going to be bullied and copied again, sigh...

Lu

Does anyone else have an amimal associated with their system? What animal and why?

[raging-violets]

I basically said this was going to be my New Year's Resolution, but it's really been hitting me lately that I can just...post whatever I want, whenever I want 🤪

I've seriously been stuck so long telling myself " I can't do this until I do that" and I really don't have to. I can post the first chapter to a fic and not touch it in months. I can post short chapters. Or go to a new fandom.

[littlefankingdom]

I saw another post criticizing Bruce for having children fighting at his side, and I must say: tell me you don't know shit about the batkids' stories without telling me. Bruce fucking tried to stop those kids from being vigilantes, but they keep doing it behind his back, so he decided the best thing to do was to give them the proper training, an armor and to have them stick at his side so he can watch over them. You know, like a parent telling their underage children that they can drink alcohol but only at home where they can watch over them.

Dick became Robin because he wanted revenge over his parents' murder. He would run out in the street of Gotham as a 8 years old, all alone, to go fight Zucco. Bruce helping him make Robin was the compromise to keep Dick safe, because the child would not listen. (And yes, it wasn't the case in the very first canon, but it was like the 40s. Do you know how many kids fought against the Nazis in Europe at that time???)

Barbara Gordon is not his daughter and he has no authority on her being a vigilante. He cannot even ground her.

Jason became Robin after helping Bruce take down Ma Gunn's school. It is implied by Bruce, while talking to Dick, that he offered Robin to Jason as a way to gain a child because he missed having Dick around. He didn't need a Robin, he just missed having a kid. Bruce used the Robin mantle with Jason like people use churu to appease stray kitten. AND JASON'S DEATH, let's talk about it. Jason ran away, which leads to him being killed, after eavesdropping on Bruce and Alfred talking about Jason's mental health. Jason is benched as Robin, but not because Bruce thinks he killed someone like fandom says, but because Bruce knows it is not helping or healthy for Jason. They are talking about getting him help for his traumas and how violence is not helping Jason. And, when he is older and has healed, they can try again if he wants to. That's why Jason or people saying that Jason died because he was a soldier, or blaming Bruce for Robin's existence is false. When Jason died, Bruce was against Jason being Robin for his own health! And Jason knows that, he heard the discussion, he wasn't bench like how so many of his siblings are, with little to no honest explanation. Jason died in the Robin's costume because of his own stubbornness, not because of Bruce. (And that's not blaming Jason for his death. He is not to blame, but neither is Bruce. It's just about the Robin's colors. Jason would not have been wearing them at the time if he listened to Bruce.)

Tim Drake imposed himself as Robin. Bruce was against it, Tim literally went "Don't care, didn't ask". And Tim was already following them around before. Bruce already have Jason blaming him for making Tim Robin when he had no control over that.

Stephanie Brown became a vigilante before Batman knew her. He has tried SO MANY TIMES to make her stop, and so many fans hate that he did it. Make a choice, is it bad that he didn’t stop her more or that he didn’t let her more be a vigilante? He even got his kids to try to make her stop. AND SHE IS "KILLED" TO TEACH HIM THAT MAKING KIDS VIGILANTES IS BAD WHEN HE IS NOT RESPONSIBLE OF HER BECOMING ONE AND TRIED TO STOP HER! No shit the man blames himself for things that are not his fault, everyone does it.

Cassandra Cain was 17 when she becomes Batgirl, so I don't know if she counts. But when Bruce tries to make her stop for her own health, with the support of Barbara and Alfred, Cass is devastated and doesn't obey him. She puts on her costume and fights him physically.

Damian Wayne was trained as an assassin. In every version of him being introduced to Bruce, Bruce is against making him Robin and Damian keeps sneaking out. Damian wants to prove himself to his father so bad and refused to be kept away from the fight. In the comics, it's Dick, DICK, that makes him Robin when Bruce is gone, because Bruce was against letting Damian out at night.

Conclusion: Bruce is a tired father of a bunch of kids that cannot understand they should stay home at night and not be vigilantes.

[sunlit-mess]

I can only take so much, but lately, they have replaced my reflection. And realize I'm just as bad as them.