#sorry for putting so much in the tag if you find me annoying. feel free to block me no hard feelings <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[deputyrook]

I literally cannot stop imagining Illario holding Rook in his lap and forcing her to come to try to show he can do one thing better. Maybe the pleasure is meant as punishment, maybe he's earnetly trying to win her over, but either way, it's hot.

God I just get the hottest anon asks, I'm so goddamn blessed.

The image that keeps coming back to me is like... some quick, hurried groping in a side room during a party, Rook half-bent over a desk with Illario's hand stuffed down her pants and his mouth on her neck as he tells he she needs to be quiet or they'll be discovered (and she doesn't want that, does she?) yum.

[sitepathos]

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 4: The Deal (Warning: this chapter will feature violence. Read at your own risk)

A/N: had free time this week to produce this. Next week is chock full of tests and midterms, so this’ll probably be the last chapter for some time. Enjoy! Also, I’m sorry to those who asked to be added to the tag list and weren’t. I tried to add many of you, but Tumblr wasn’t able to find your blog for whatever reason.

When you open your eyes, darkness goes on forever in all directions, the only thing you can see is yourself. Where are you and how did you get here?

“Hello,” you call out, hoping someone is nearby to hear you, not caring who hears you just as long as someone comes to you. “Is there anyone here?”

Nothing, which you expected, but you had hoped against reality that someone was here… wherever here is. The cold air surges through your body and you shiver, your teeth chattering, echoing in the void.

“What happened,” you ask yourself. “How’d I get here?”

Just then, your memory kicks in and images and words assault your mind all at once: walking through the East End, the three thugs, the dirty shack in the middle of the woods you had been dragged to, and—

“Oh my god,” you say as the final memory flashes before your eyes. “They killed me.”

That’s right, the flash of the muzzle and the sound of the gunshot still rattling in your head. And if you think hard enough, you can vaguely remember falling to the floor after the bullet entered your head.

“Wait,” you say, realizing something very important. “If they shot me, then why am I here?”

Sure, you aren’t religious (all beliefs in a just and loving god died after you lost your Momma and was forced to live in an abusive and neglectful household for thirteen years), but this dark and neverending void is a far cry from the bright and golden imagery that’s always been associated with heaven. And this sure isn’t the fire and brimstone that comes to mind when you think of hell. So, is this purgatory? Or limbo? You never could keep the two straight.

Is this your fate? To spend the rest of your afterlife alone in this abyss? Why couldn’t you just cease altogether? Was it too much to ask that you just close your eyes and never wake from your eternal slumber?

You realize you’re crying and you’re amazed that after crying so much throughout your life, you still have plenty of tears to shed, even in the afterlife. But that’s been your lot in life since you lost Momma: to be the world’s punching bag.

“Such powerful emotions,” a familiar voice says.

You look up in shock and see your Momma, looking exactly the same as the day she was taken from you.

“Momma,” you exclaim, rushing to her and embracing her, squeezing her as hard as your arms will allow, afraid that if you let go, she’ll disappear.

“This form brings out such joy, sadness, and loss in you,” she says. “Feelings from someone alive are far more vibrant than from someone deceased.”

“What,” you asks, looking up at her in confusion, but when you do, it’s not your Momma you see looking down at you, but Bruce. You let go of the man as quick as you can and put a bit of distance between the two of you.

“What did you do to my Momma, you son of a bitch,” you shout in disgust.

“This form brings out such anger, pain, and hatred in you,” Bruce says, looking you up and down as if dissecting you like a damn lab experiment. “How interesting.”

“What the hell are you talking about? How’d you get here and what did you do to Momma?”

“And it’s not just this form.” You see movement all around you and in perfect unison, the other members of the Wayne Family appear from the void. “You hold these forms in equal amounts of hatred and contempt.”

“You deem this one a failure,” Bruce says.

“This one a hypocrite,” Dick says.

“This one a brute,” Jason says.

“This one a know-it-all,” Tim says.

“This one a stranger,” Barbara says.

“This one annoying,” Stephanie says, before turning to Cassandra. “And while you’ve never heard that one speak, you deem her a freak.”

“And you deem this one a monster,” Damian says. He gestures to Bruce. “You hate this form and that one in equal measure, far surpassing the others.”

You see another figure step out of the void and when you make out the face, it’s Alfred. You feel relief surge through your body, happy to see the butler; if there’s anyone who you can depend on, it’s him.

“While this one serves the others, you hold great respect for this form,” Alfred says. “Although, you hold a not insignificant amount of resentment towards him.”

Your heart skips a little at the accusation. No, you love the man, who took the place of a father when Bruce failed to fill the void left by your Momma’s death; sure, you’ve had the occasional thought that if the man was given a choice between you and them, he’d choose them over you since he’s always helping them, but he’s always been there for you since day one!

“No,” you say, pleading with the man. “Alfred, I don’t!”

“But you do,” the butler responds. “According to you, he is the true master of your prison, but instead of using his power to make them acknowledge your existence, he allows them to continue parading through Gotham, fighting criminals.”

“You also believe all these forms belong in Arkham,” Bruce adds. “And that you wish to be the one to subject them to electroshock therapy.”

You finally realize that something’s wrong here. All of them have never been in your presence long enough for you to say how you feel about them (not that they’d care, anyway) and you’ve never told Alfred how you often daydream of locking them away in Gotham, strapping them to metal chairs, and flipping the switch to send hundreds of volts through their skulls, hoping to shock them into being decent human beings. All this has been kept in your head for well over a decade.

So, how the hell did they know all this?

“You’re not them, are you?”

“No,” Not-Bruce answers. “We only took the forms of those you see before you.”

“Then who the fuck are you,” you growl. “And where the fuck am I?”

“We have no name,” Not-Alfred says.

“We are one, and yet we are many,” Not-Damian finishes.

“It is impossible to define a being such as us,” Not-Jason chimes in.

“Alright, that doesn’t answer my question,” you mutter to yourself, but say it loud enough for them to hear. “Then answer me this: where am I? The last thing I remember was being shot by three thugs.”

“Yes, we know of your attack,” Not-Stephanie says.

“As for your question, we are appearing to you in your mind,” Not-Bruce says.

“My mind,” you exclaim. “How?”

“When you appeared to us, we reached out and established a link with you,” Not-Tim explains. “It is from there that we were able to peer into your mind and see your memories.”

“My memories,” you ask, dumbfounded.

“Yes,” Not-Damian responds. “Through your memories, we saw these forms and assumed them. We thought it would be more preferable for you to speak to us if we took the appearance of the people who have the most influence on your life.”

“If you looked through my memories, then you should know I want nothing to do with any of them,” you snap at them.

“We know now that we were in error,” Not-Bruce responds, a ghost of a smile gracing his face. “We owe you many thanks. Never before have we been put into a situation where have known the sensation of being incorrect. We will ponder this experience for years to come.”

“So, what do you really look like.”

All of them look at one another, unsure how to answer your question.

“We are not sure if you wish to see our true form,” Not-Alfred responds.

“While you are the first sentient being we’ve interacted with in our entire existence, we know that our true form is something many of your kind would consider… terrifying,” Not-Stephanie adds.

“I don’t care,” you snap. “I’m not talking to any of you while you look like this and I sure as hell don’t want you taking Momma’s form! And if we’re going to talk, we’re gonna do it face to face!”

“Very well,” Not-Bruce acquiesces.

And with that, everything fades to black and for a moment, you’re scared you’ll be left here in the dark by yourself again. Maybe you should’ve let them stay like that.

Just then, above you, you see an odd red glow. You look up and you feel your blood freeze, your heart stop, and the air catches in your lungs. Above you is a giant mass of red, bioluminescent flesh hanging from a cave ceiling, thick black tendrils extruding from it and digging deep into the surrounding rock, allowing it to remain suspended in the cavern. And if that didn’t freak you out enough, you can see the flesh obviously resembles the shape of a fetus in the fetal position. This thing looks like something out of an H.P. Lovecraft novel.

“Holy shit,” is all you can say.

“We told you you would not approve of our true form,” it says, its voice beaming directly into your mind.

“What are you,” you ask, still awestruck at the sight before you.

“We are have no name,” it responds. “But, with the knowledge we have accumulated over the centuries, we suppose you can call us the Megamycete.”

“Megamycete?”

“Yes, we are a supercolony of sentient fungus that has existed for over four-hundred years.”

“Four-hundred years? That’s as long as Gotham’s been around.”

“We have existed as the city above. When its founders first arrived, we were nothing more than a collection of small, independent and unaware colonies of mold. Not long after the first buildings were built, an earthquake shook the area and revealed something we now know as a ‘Lazarus Pit,’ a pool of green, luminescent liquid that possesses remarkable restorative properties, and the colonies that would become us were plunged into it.”

“And this pit made you the way that you are?”

“The pit made us aware, but it did not give us our intelligence. With our enhanced capabilities, we were able to spread out our roots beyond the mountain. Not long after, we discovered the corpses of the first of Gotham’s citizens, buried after they drew their last breath; when our roots came into contact with their bodies, we found we had the ability to archive the knowledge, memories, and even DNA of the deceased. We became obsessed with growing our archive, so as Gotham grew over the years, so did our roots; overtime, we archived hundreds of its deceased, increasing our intelligence and knowledge of the outside world. Now, our roots touch every part of this city, becoming one with it, not only archiving the remains of its living, but seeing and hearing everything that goes on within its boundaries.”

“So,” you say, your mouth becoming dry at your newfound knowledge. “You’re like some fungal god?”

“While we know many of your kind may consider a being such as us god, we hold no illusion of being a divine entity. We think of ourselves as an immortal observer.”

As you attempt to process this information, your mind brings something to your attention and you feel your heart stop when you realize it. You really don’t want to know the answer, but there’s that damn stubborn part of you that has… no, it needs to know.

“So,” you begin, trying to summon the courage to ask your question. “Earlier, you said all of this is going on in my head, right?”

“Yes, our roots were able to establish a link with you and allow us to convene with you in your mind.”

“So, if we’re in my head right now, where’s me? I mean, my body?”

Although the Megamycete doesn’t have eyes, nor does it turn anything that resembles a head, you can feel it shift its awareness to the side, as if looking at something. You feel yourself break into a cold sweat as you slowly turn your head to the left, wondering what exactly you’re going to find.

And when you do, your greeted by a sight that makes you feel as if the world around you had crumbled away and you’ve been left behind to float in the void left behind: you, lying in a mess of tendrils composed of mold, broken, battered, and bloody; your limbs lying in directions they’re definitely not supposed to be in, your eyes glazed over, and a gaping bullet hole in your left temple.

“Oh my god,” you shout, utterly horrified at the sight before you. “Oh my god!”

“We saw the torture those three criminals subjected you to. Their leader was quite thorough in inflicting damage.”

“So that’s it, huh?” While this is all just some projection in your head, you feel like you’re hyperventilating. “This is how it ends: being eaten by some sentient mushroom and becoming a part of it? Doomed to spend the rest of eternity tethered to this damn city? I survive in a place where you’re likely to be killed by some trigger-happy murder clown and his psycho-ass whore while getting your mail and some two-bit thug is what does me in?”

“If you look closer, you will find that you are still alive.”

You practically snap your head to look back at your body and sure enough, you can see your chest moving up and down. It may not be much, but it’s there.

“I’m alive,” you ask, shocked at the sight of you breathing.

“You still live,” it answers back. “Your life force is low, but still there.”

“But how? He shot me in the head and then threw me down here! People don’t live after something like that!”

“While a gunshot to the head is normally fatal, our archive shows us two revelations: that the bullet did not go through your brain, but graze it and that the bullet used was of a lower caliber. While the wound was grievous, you still had a chance of surviving it. As for the fall into our chamber, your body was caught onto our roots as it fell, slowing it down and allowing it to land with diminished force.”

“But I’m still going to die, right?”

“Yes,” it answers, seemingly sympathetic. “If you were in a proper hospital, you could recover, but right now, your body is slowly shutting down. By the time anyone found you, you would long be deceased.”

So, you survive attempted murder, but you’ll still die in the end.

“Fuck,” you mutter. “Wasn’t the end I had in mind.”

“What did you have in mind for your death,” the Megamycete asks.

“Shouldn’t you know what i had in mind for my death?”

“We do, but our knowledge shows us talking to the dying brings a form of comfort to them. Plus, this is the first time we have had the chance to interact with a living mortal. We wish to prolong the experience as much as possible.”

You chuckle at that. “I thought I would spend my final days back home in Goodsprings, sitting in the big recliner Momma bought for me. I use to spend Saturday mornings in it, eating cereal and watching cartoons.” You smile at the memory of the chair. “It was a damn good chair.”

“We see it, a brown cushioned seat, perfect for watching television or reading books.”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Would’ve been perfect to spend my last days in.”

“Perhaps you still can.”

You look up at the Megamycete. “What?”

“We offer you a deal: we will repair your body and give you the strength to leave this chamber and rejoin the outside world.”

“And you’ll get what?”

“You become our host.”

“What,” you balk. “Host?”

“Yes, we will entangle ourselves with your very being, becoming as one.”

“And why the hell would I agree to that,” you exclaim. “You fix my body just to take it over? No deal!”

“You misunderstand. We will not override your control over your body. We will be nothing more than a spectator in your life, seeing but being powerless to intervene. In addition to being restored to your former glory, you will gain access not only to our vast archive of knowledge, but gain abilities many of your kind would consider supernatural.”

That certainly cools your temper. “So, you fix me up and give me superpowers, but all you get in return is front row seats to my life. Sounds like I’m the only one benefitting from this deal.”

“On the contrary, we stand to gain just as much as you do. For over four-hundred years, we could see the outside world, but not join it. With each new corpse we archived, we began to desire a way to interact with the world firsthand and not by mere memories. You are our solution to this dilemma. Through you, we will know what it means to feel the sun on our face, or to taste the finest meals, or to hear a symphony.”

The Megamycete’s words shock you to your core. You guess if you were stuck in this cavern for four centuries and only knew of a world beyond it through memories, you’d do anything to experience it, too.

“Please, Y/N, we beg you to accept our deal. We promise everything we are, from our archive to our longevity, will be at your disposal. You will be stronger, smarter, and better than those who thought less of you. In comparison to you, they will be nothing more than mere ants.”

You’ve thought about showing the Waynes up for years, to be able to pay Jason back for that black eye, to make Tim feel like a complete idiot, and especially to make Damian feel inferior in every way possible.

“We can do that for you. With us at your side, you’ll attain a level of perfection they could never dream of. All we want is to be able to witness this firsthand.”

“Alright,” you relent. “If all you want is to go outside in exchange for making me better than them, you have a deal.”

“We thank you, Y/N,” it says, sounding incredibly happy. Relieved, even.

And with that, your world fades to black once again and when you open your eyes, you find that you’re back in your body, feelings of pain overwhelming your senses, making it hard to concentrate on the Megamycete pressing its tendrils into you. You watch in total awe as the giant, fetus-like mass that is the Megamycete begin to shrink and when you look down where the tendrils are embedded in your skin, you can see a black substance being injected into under your skin. The more of the substance being pumped into your body, the smaller the Megamycete gets.

That’s when you feel weird all over, like every cell in your body is transforming into something else. While not painful, per se, it’s an incredibly odd sensation.

(Your body is becoming one with our mold,) you hear the Megamycete explain in your head. (Not only will it repair the damage that was done to you, you will find that you are far more durable than any mere mortal and have the ability to change your form into any that is stored in our archive, both man or beast.)

“Wait, you’re saying I can shapeshift?”

(If that is what you wish to call our mimetic abilities, then yes, you may “shapeshift.”)

When the last of the mold was transferred to you, you find your body stitching itself up and the incredible pain you were in fading fast, like it was never there. You see a puddle of water lying nearby and when you look in it, you see that all your injuries are gone, even the scar on your left check that Damian gave you three years ago. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it never happened at all.

And not only do you look better, you feel better! You wouldn’t say you were the healthiest person ever, but you tried to stay somewhere in between active and sedentary; sure you weren’t going to be running any marathons, but you were able to climb the many stairwells at school when the elevator took too long. Now, however, you felt like you could run and win a marathon, or climb up a mountain without climbing gear, or swim the English Channel during a hurricane! And you didn’t feel better physically, but intellectually as well! Gotham, for all it many flaws, has attracted the best artists, architects, doctors, engineers, musicians, scientists, and more; you feel your mind being rushed with the knowledge and memories of countless people throughout the ages, ranging from the city’s early days to now. Hell, you even have access to the memories and knowledge of some of Bruce’s greatest employees, giving you knowledge on much on Wayne Enterprises’ tech and projects that he’s spared no expense in keeping under wraps. Maybe you can get a pretty penny from Lex Corp in exchange for this information since everyone knows Bruce and Lex are bitter rivals and are constantly trying to one-up each other, with Bruce, unfortunately, often being the winner in their battles to develop the next technological development.

“I feel like I could run circles around Einstein,” you laugh, completely blown away with your newfound intellect. Right now, you feel like you could write a symphony that would make Beethoven feel inadequate while at the same time painting a masterpiece that would eclipse the Mona Lisa and designing a fusion reactor capable of powering the entire country. You look around the cavern, looking and not seeing a way out. “Now how do I get out of here?”

(There is a passage directly above you.) You look up to see a big hole in the chamber’s ceiling. (That is how you ended up here when those three threw you in here. Our archives have absorbed many of Gotham’s birds. Any one of them should give you the power to fly out of the chamber.)

The mention of the three thugs remind you of your stolen pen and Game Boy, which then fills you with rage. You’ve never liked thieves and the thought of your Momma’s treasured pen and your gift from your thoughtful boss in the hands of such lowlifes gives you even more of a reason to hate them. By now, they could be anywhere, maybe even outside of the city for fear of your disappearance being reported (mostly by Alfred, the only person left in Gotham who would give a damn).

(Remember our roots span all of Gotham,) the Megamycete says. (Through them, we have seen and heard all that occurs in this city. As our host, you now have access to them. All you have to do is reach out and think of who you wish to find.)

Following its advice, you reach out and feel the roots that entangle Gotham like a spider web. As soon as you do, you’re overwhelmed with sights and sounds from every corner of the city.

(Focus on the three,) it advises you. (If you concentrate on who exactly you want, the roots will do the rest.)

It takes some doing, but you manage to push aside the multitude of people that are in your mind’s eye and focus on the three kidnappers. You’re taken across the city, rushing past the many buildings and stopping at some seedy building in Coventry. Your newfound knowledge of Gotham tells you this is the My Alibi bar, a place for Gotham’s criminals to get together to eat, trade gossip, and find work.

With your destination known, you search through the Megamycete’s archives and something to get you out of here and find something that should do the job: crows. Your body manifests into a murder of crows and takes off in perfect unison, keeping in formation. It’s extremely weird to be a bunch of birds; you know that what was once your body is now numerous birds, but while you’re multiple birds, you’re still one person. You can see through all their eyes all at once and change their flight path and they actually do it like it’s nothing. In a matter of seconds, you’re on the surface, flying above the forest and looking down at the twinkling lights of Gotham’s buildings.

“You know, from above, that cesspit actually looks kinda pretty.”

(We thank you, Y/N. We never thought we would be able to experience such a sight firsthand, but here we are. Now, shall we retrieve your stolen property?)

The crows fly through the city, zipping past the buildings and as you do, you realize that you’ve just fulfilled a dream you’ve had since you were ten-years-old: to fly like a bird. When you realized that the Waynes were awful and all you wanted was to go back to Goodsprings— to take flight like a bird and leave this city and the Waynes behind. Now, you can turn into a flock of birds, or even grow a pair of wings, and fly all the way to Nevada!

Eventually, you reach the My Alibi club, which looks even worse in person than through the Megamycete’s roots. You land on a nearby building’s rooftop and see the only security for the entire building is a single bouncer. You command the birds to land near the bouncer and when they do, they come together and reform your body, but instead of revealing you, you command hardened black mold to cover your body, not wanting your face to be seen by anyone.

What’s going to happen here needs to not get back to you.

“What,” the bouncer stutters. “What the hell?”

“Leave,” is all you say.

The bouncer says nothing before he runs away.

(Are you ready,) the Megamycete asks as you near the door. (We highly doubt your three would-be murderers will take your return likely. Nor will they likely be in a hurry to return your property. You may have to resort to violence.)

“Good,” is all you say as you enter.

The noise coming from patrons’ conversations, drinking, and arguing comes to an end when you walk inside. A quick look around and you can tell this place lives up to its reputation of being for Gotham’s criminal element; everyone here looks like they’ve done time and will probably spend their last days in prison.

And in the back corner sit your targets, looking at you with their table filled with glasses and plates of food. The sight fills you with rage; they shot you in the head and threw you in a ditch and here they are, eating and drinking like they just got off work and wanted something to take the edge off. And what really pisses you off is seeing the one called Butch holding your Game Boy like it was his right!

“I’m here for them,” you say, pointing to your quarry. “The rest of you are free to go.”

“Up yours, freak,” some shithead shouts back, pulling out a revolver and fires it three times. The bullets hit the hardened mold and fall to the floor, looking like crushed tin cans rather than deadly projectiles. “What the hell?”

He goes to fire it again, but you raise your hand and a tendril emerges from it, piercing the man’s heart; he drops his gun and lets out a disgusting gurgle, blood dripping from it and pooling on the floor, before falling silent, dead.

While most of your mind is disturbed at the sight; you’ve just killed a man, his blood literally on your hands, but you can’t deny there’s a part of you that’s not saddened by your actions. After all, he did try to kill you and if he was in a place like this, chances are he was a piece of shit and Gotham’s a slightly better place for his passing.

For a moment, everyone is paralyzed at what just happened. The place is so quiet, a pin could drop and it would deafen everyone. Then, everyone breaks out of their stupor, practically all of them pulling out their guns and begin shooting at you, but just like their friend here found out, their bullets are useless against you. Numerous tendrils emerge from all over your body and rush at them; some of them empaling them, others wrap around their throats and crush them, while the rest just whip them with enough force to break them in two. One by one, they fall until it’s just you and your prey.

“Look, man,” you killer whimpers as you draw closer to him. “I don’t know what you want, but you can take what we have. Tom, hand him the bag.”

The other one throws a bag, which lands at your feet; you look down to see it’s your book bag. You pick it up and open it to find everything still inside, from your binder and notebooks to your phone and the gift box Mr. Chen gave you. You’re relieved to know that you’re not missing any of your school stuff and don’t have to go looking for anything or replace it. You are, however, missing all the money from your wallet, but a look on the table shows where it went to. But, you’re still missing the most important thing: your Momma’s pen.

“Here, take this, too.” The leader takes the Game boy from Butch and holds it out to you, which you snatch from him, reveling in the fear in his eyes as you did, and carefully place it inside.

That just leaves one last order of business. You extend two tendrils and wrap them around the leaders throat and hold him up from the floor, his legs kicking around, trying and failing to get him back on the ground; his arms pathetically wrap around the tendrils, trying to crate some room for him to breath, and his mouth is gaping like a fish out of water, trying to get any sort of air. His cohorts go to say something, but a quick glare from you shuts them up. You bring the man close to you until you can see your reflection in his eyes, which are wide and full of terror, and open your mold mask, revealing your identity to them and based off their expressions, all three men could probably crush coal into diamonds with their sphincters.

“Holy shit,” Butch whispers, his face showing his complete disbelief.

“It’s that kid,” Tom adds, his face mirroring his partner. “But, we killed him, right?”

“My pen,” you say, looking at this piece of human filth with complete contempt. “Where is it?”

You loosen your grip to allow him to speak.

“My pocket,” he says. “It’s in my pocket. All the pawn shops were closed, so I wasn’t able to sell it.”

While you’re happy that your beloved pen is not is some sleazy pawn shop’s display window, you’re utterly disgusted at the thought of this man’s audacity to think he had the right to sell your most treasured possession like its some worthless trinket. A small tendril emerges form your shoulder and searches the man’s pocket and pulls out that beautiful gold ink pen. You have it deliver it to your left hand, which is empty as your right hand is being used to hold the man in front of you, and hold onto it with a vice-like grip.

(Not even death could separate you from your Mother’s memento,) the Megamycete states. (We are impressed at your dedication to it.)

“Look, we’re sorry for what we did to you,” the man pathetically whimpers. “Really, we are.”

“Did you know this was my Momma’s pen,” you ask as if the man had not just said something. “I lost her on my sixth birthday and was forced to leave my home in Goodsprings to live here. This pen is the only thing of hers I was able to bring with me. And you had felt like you had the right to take something I treasure more than anything else in the world and pawn it off for some petty cash.”

“We didn’t know, man,” Butch responds, now realizing the depth of his mistakes. “We’re sorry.”

“We promise we won’t tell anyone about this,” Tom adds. “Just let us go and you’ll never see or hear from us ever again.”

“You’re right, we won’t see each other again, but wouldn’t you like to know who I was forced to live with?” The three of them pathetically nod in unison and you have to fight the urge to laugh. A few hours ago, these men were looking down at you, sure they could do anything they wanted, but now, here you are, far above them in the food chain. “I was forced to live with my father, Bruce Wayne.”

“But he said—“ the leader starts to say, but you cut him off.

“That bastard has ignored me since I moved in with him,” you shout, shutting him up. “I was his first biological son, but he’s completely forgotten about me!” You take a deep breath. Just the mention of him brings out the worst in you. “But it doesn’t matter. I don’t need him. Just like you don’t need your lives.”

And with that, you rip the man’s head clean off his shoulders, not even giving him the chance to realize his fate before killing him. You release the body and both it and his head crumple to the floor in a heap of lifeless meat and to further invoke fear in them, you stomp on the head while looking at them, the thing making a wet splat sound. The other two shout, but you cut them down with ease, tendrils emerging from your back and wrapping around their heads and crush them with ease, showering the floor in their blood and grey matter. Their bodies fall to the floor and flail around for a while before finally stopping.

(Well done,) the Megamycete praises. (You cut down these criminals and made Gotham safer faster than any police officer we have known. Perhaps the local police should seek out your services?)

“Not gonna happen,” you laugh as you walk out of the bar with your backpack in hand. “I have no intention of staying in this place. Once I graduate, I’m going back home.”

(Yes, Goodsprings. A small town located in Nevada. We look forward to experiencing your return to your point of origin.)

And with that, you manifest a pair of black wings on your back and take flight, flying far above the city’s skyscrapers, so hopefully you’re safe from detection. In just a few minutes, you’ve flown from Burnley Island to Bristol, something that should’ve taken almost an hour by car. Thanks to the Megamycete’s roots, you can see the Bats still out and about throughout Gotham, so you don’t have to worry about running into any of them while hurrying into your room.

You land down the street to avoid being picked up by the security cameras (Bruce’s picture is the definition of paranoid based on the amount of cameras in both the estate and in the house itself) and walk the rest of the way there. Normally, walking down the marathon-length driveway to the manor when coming home from work, but his time, you cross the distance like it’s nothing; in fact, you feel like you can do this another dozen times and still feel energized.

But, while you’re physically invigorated, you’re mentally drained and all you want to do is curl up and bed and pass out; you enter Wayne Manor and hurry to your room, never more thankful for being far from the rest of the household than you are now. While you’ve been flying under the radar of Gotham’s vigilantes for years now, you’ll afraid that even they won’t be able to ignore you when they found out about your newly gained powers. During your stay here, you’ve listened to their conversations when they thought you weren’t around and you know that while they distrust everyone (even each other based on the fact that no one seems to be allowed to have secrets), they distrust those with superpowers the most. Two years you listened in on a conversation between Bruce and Superman, who offered to help him during a time when many of Arkham’s most dangerous patients escaped all at once, and Bruce said in a tone that felt like sandpaper being dragged across your face: “Gotham’s off limits to metas. You step one foot in my city and you’ll regret it.”

Honestly, you’re confident that Bruce is only on this planet to be the biggest asshole who ever lived. He treats his first biological son like shit, he raises his “true children” to be as paranoid and pessimistic as him, and he threatens anyone who offers his sorry ass any kind of help. It seems to you that the only one who should’ve died that night in Crime Alley is Bruce.

You shove the man’s image in your head aside. Before tonight, he wasn’t important to you, but now, he’s irrelevant. You never needed him before, but now, you really don’t. With the Megamycete, you have everything you need.

Just then, your phone rings, bringing you out of your thoughts. You fish out your phone and look on the screen to see Alfred’s caller ID staring back at you.

“Hello,” you answer.

“Master Y/N, are you alright?”

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because it’s over an hour since you should’ve called me since getting off work.” You wince when you peek at your phone and see you’re overdue your nightly call with the butler. “So, I ask again: are you alright?” Based off his tone, he’s not going to accept “I’m fine” as an answer.

“Yeah, I am.” You quickly think of anything that could explain your tardiness and realize something: the best lie is an obvious truth. You just need to modify it a bit. “I just stayed behind to tell Mr. Chen goodbye. Today was the last day for the store because his daughter said Gotham was too dangerous for him to stay by himself, so she brought him to her home today.”

“Oh, Master Y/N, I’m sorry.” His tone says he’s bought it and you actually feel bad lying to the man you’ve come to see as a father figure. “I know how much you loved working there. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I will be. I’m gonna miss him.”

“Of course you will, he was a good man and you were the best employee he could ask for. Can I do anything for you? I’m halfway through with my vacation, perhaps I should—“

“No,” you cut the man off. “You don’t have to come back early, Alfred.” With everything that’s happened today, you need some time to prepare yourself before facing Alfred in person again. It would be a disaster for you to expose yourself as some form of metahuman in front of him. Plus, he deserves to have all his allotted vacation time. “I’ll be fine, really.”

“If you’re sure,” he says, obviously wanting to say more, but doesn’t press the issue. “I’ll let you go, I’m sure you’re tired and you need your rest. Please make sure you catch up on your sleep I’m sure you’ve missed this week during your spring break.”

“I will, Alfred, don’t worry. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Very good, Master Y/N. Good night, my boy.”

“Good night.”

You hang up and let out a sigh of relief, glad he bought it.

(You say you trust the butler with your life, but keep the events of tonight a secret from him. Why?)

“Because Alfred’s highly protective and would most likely steal a boat and sail back to Gotham within an hour if I told him I was kidnapped. And if he knew about you, he’d probably drag me to a hospital and have every last trace of mold surgically removed.”

(We do not wish for that to happen.)

“Me neither, bud. You know, after tonight, I think we’re gonna do great things together.”

(We agree. Now, heed the words of your butler and rest. Tonight was very eventful for you. It would not do well for our host to shirk in his bodily needs.)

You chuckle and strip down to your boxers before climbing into bed. Not long after you get comfy, you feel yourself drift off to sleep. For the first time ever, you’re actually looking forward to waking up in Gotham.

Bruce hears Jason whistle at the sight, but says nothing in favor of studying the carnage inside the My Alibi bar. Bodies are scattered everywhere around the establishment, some are relatively intact while others look like they were ripped in half.

“Looks like someone had fun here,” Jim says as he approaches him, Jason, and Damian. “What do you think?”

“Looks like someone had a score to settle,” he responds to the police commissioner. He motions to the remains of three men crowded together in a corner of the bar with their heads missing; two of the heads are near the rest of their bodies while the third has been reduced to a fine red paste. “Especially these three. Based on how they were killed, I’d guess whoever did this was after them.”

“Doesn’t look like Joker’s handiwork,” Jim adds. “No one here’s smiling and the place is devoid of murderous gag toys.”

No, this is definitely not the clown’s MO. Neither does it match the MO of anyone currently missing from Arkham. The only one he could think of that could rip apart and crush some of the victims is Bane, but that doesn’t explain why the remaining victims are impaled; plus, the giant is still locked up in Arkham’s high-security ward. So, this can only mean one thing.

“This is definitely the work of someone new,” he says, bending down to study the squashed head. “And with this being the only scene we know of, this was their first time killing.”

Whoever did this is highly dangerous and needs to be stopped and fast before even more people get hurt. Looks like he and his family are going to have their hands full for the foreseeable future.

Tag List: @space1crow @bat1212 @minkyungseokie @nosyrobin @bunbunboysworld @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @feral-childs-word @phoenixgurl030 @soriansick @hellcatsworld @prettyboys247 @marsmabe @paolexsstuff @c0l1fl0r @starryperson @lunaluz432 @orbitingtraveler @roseytheteacup @bundlofcigars @kore-of-the-underworld @kiarst @vanessa-boo @moxiemy @greatwhisperspaper

[wintfleur]

omg stella telling her brothers she’s starting an only fans as a prank!! they would kill her

౨ৎ it’s just a prank!

﹕─┈ pairings ( Estella Hughes oc! X siblings! Hughes brothers )

°. — details ( g; fluff, humor. w; Stella being a little goofy and her brothers are being protective. wc; 2.6k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( omg nonnie you are a genius, I had so much fun writing this !!! So sorry it took so long for me to get out. I hope you guys enjoy it !!! )

°. — ( in no way am I meaning to offend anyone who does do only fans or anything like that, by writing Stella’s brothers not being supportive of her doing only fans. I hope that makes sense )

°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )

au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!

Stella was laying in her bed ⸺ well technically the guest bed in the guest room in her brother's jack and Luke's apartment. She was having her annual visit, and it was the time of day where her brothers were both napping, and she wasn't in the mood to go out by herself. She was honestly feeling quite bored not having her brothers around to annoy, that's why she was aimlessly scrolling through TikTok. But her boredom was quickly healed when she watched the latest TikTok lily sent her, a mischievous smile forming on her lips as her mind already formed a plan. 

Stella swiftly slipped out of bed and grabbed her hoodie and put it over her tank top before leaving the room. She heard the faint sound of her brother's voice coming from the kitchen, she could tell that they just woke up from their tone. Both of her brother's heads turned to her as she walked into the kitchen, Luke giving her a tired smile as Jack just groaned and rested his head on the cold island counter they were sitting at. “Can you grab us the milk?” Jack groaned tiredly and Stella rolled her eyes but got the milk for them, nonetheless, setting the carton next to the box of cereal the two were about to destroy. 

Stella pulled out a box of fruit snacks and set them on the counter, only using that as a distraction so she could prop up her phone to film them without them seeing it. She started the video and gave the camera a wink before she turned around and faced her brothers who were shoveling cereal into their mouths. Stella leaned back against the counter and asked, “Can one of you drive me too best buy?” 

 “Sure! What do you need at best buy?” Luke was quick to agree, wanting to spend more time with his little sister, Jack looked at Stella curious on what she needed at best buy, he was about to open his mouth to offer to give her his card, but she was already talking. “Oh! I need to get a ring light, i left mine at home.” 

“Why do you need a ring light?” Jack askes with a confused frown. Stella had to stop her lips from curling up into a smile at the genuine confusion, oh her poor brothers have no idea what they're getting into. Stella gave her brothers a smile and tries her best to sound as calm as she could as she speaks “Oh i need one to film my new only fans video and i left mine at home.”  

Stella bit her lip and turned to face the counter, pretending to do things, knowing that she would not be able to face her brothers without bursting out into laughter. The camera perfectly got both of her brothers' reactions. Luke choked on his cereal in shock and started coughing. Jack dropped his spoon in his bowl as his body went still in shock as he looked at the back of his little sister's head. 

“What did you just say?” Jack asked his sister, hoping that he and Luke heard wrong. There was no way she was serious ⸺ she couldn't be. Stella let out a quiet breath and tried to collect herself before turning around to face her brothers. She turned back around to face her brothers, holding everything in so she wouldn't laugh, she gives them a smile pretending to be unbothered “I need to get a ring light so i can film my on⸺” 

“We heard you!” Luke quickly cut Stella off after catching his breath from his fit of coughs, he shook his head in disgust he did not want to hear his sister repeat it. Jack looks at his sister in fear and shakes his head no, repeatedly muttering no under his breath. Poor boy was stressed. “Stella, you can't be serious! You can't have only fans” Jack nearly shouted as he placed both of his hands on the island counter. 

“And you sure as hell can't film your . . . your videos in our guest bedroom” Luke scoffs his face twisted in disgust, he did not need to know this about his sister, and he did not need to think of what she could be doing in their guest bedroom. “Gross” Jack whined in disgust at his younger brother's words. 

“Why not I really need the money” Stella did her best to frown, giving her brothers her puppy eyes that she knew always worked in her favor, but this time it was different, they were not going to fall for it. Jack's eyes nearly pop out of his sockets at his sister's revelation, she was doing this because she needed money? He quickly reached into his pocket for his wallet while Luke questioned her in shock “Money? Your doing this for money?” 

“Obviously” stella giggled with a shrug of her shoulder, gently biting her lip to hold in her laughter when she sees Luke hold his head in his hands and jack hold out his wallet for her “Here take my wallet, buy whatever you want as long as you delete your account.” 

“Awee you're going to buy my ring light for me?” Stella playfully cooed as she reached for the wallet, very much enjoying messing with her brothers. Luke's eyes widen and he quickly snatches Jack's wallet before she could grab it, over his dead body. Luke scoffs at the audacity “Neither of us are going to sponsor your bad decisions.” 

“Oh, trust me i don't need any more sponsors” stella stated as she tried her best to sound innocent and oblivious. Luke's mouth dropped in shock and Stella was sure she was going to see steam coming out of Jack's ears any second now. Jack pulled his phone out of his pocket with a mission “Thats it I'm calling Quinn, he can talk some sense into your delusional ass self.” 

Stella’s eyes widen and she quickly grabs jacks' phone out of his hands before he could get the chance to call their eldest brother, she also wanted to pull this prank on Quinn when she comes to visit, and she wasn't going to have them ruin that even though she wasn't really looking forward to it. Stella quickly shouted when she noticed the two heated stares from her brothers “Wait! Wait! It's just a prank!” 

Neither of her brothers believed her until she broke out into a fit of giggles and turned around to grab her phone, lifting it up and showing them that they were being filmed. A loud laugh leaves her lips at the sight of her brother's reaction to her phone. Both of their shoulders sag in relief and Jack drops his head onto the island counter and lets out a loud groan of annoyance, while Luke just crosses his arms and glares at his sister. Yes, he was relieved that it was all fake, but his heart was almost beating out of his chest from the stress she just put him through. 

Stella gives the camera a small smile before stopping it, she slides it into her pocket and clears her throat and gives both of her brothers an awkward smile. She could tell that they both were a little upset from the prank. Stella tries her best to sound enthusiastic as she asks her two now grumpy brothers “Who wants to help me plan out the same prank for quinny!” 

Now that got a smile on both of their lips . . . 

Now Stella was way more nervous to pull the prank on quinn than she was with Jack and Luke. Quinn was different. She knew it was just a prank, but she was still scared to see Quinn’s reaction. She was honestly going to blow the whole prank off, but she was starting to get annoyed by the many texts from an impatient Jack asking her if she's done it yet. Not only was she nervous to do it, but there was also just not a good time for her to do it yet. 

She has been busy almost every day, going out with her brother almost every day, Elias and Brock joining them. She was having a great time, so she really didn't want to ruin it by pranking her older brother by making him believe she was starting an only fans account. But she said she would, and Stella doesn't go back on her word. Ever.  

Stella quickly glanced at her brother who was focusing on the video game he was playing on the living room tv. They were spending the day inside, neither of them wanting to go out during the hot day. Stella discretely sets up her phone against a pillow next to her, her phone getting a good view of both of the siblings who're sitting next to each other. 

Stella lets out a nervous sigh before quickly starting the video and leans back on the couch, letting her phone get a great view of both of their side profiles. Quinn was leaning forward with his arms on his knees and a controller in his hand. Stella sat Criss cross on the couch and tilted her head to look at quinn as she spoke “Quinn i have to tell you something.” 

“Hmm yeah, what is it?” Quinn quickly glanced back and forth from his sister and the tv a few times before settling his gaze back on the tv. Stella nervously bit her lip for a second, quickly glancing at the camera before looking back at her brother. She spoke calmly “I think I'm going to start an only fans.” 

Quinn physically recoiled in shock at his sister's words, and the both of them were surprised that his neck didn't snap with how fast it turned to her. The controller dropped out of his hand and hit the rug covered floor. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, not believing the words coming out of his sister's mouth “Excuse me?” 

“I’m thinking of  ⸺ “ 

“Why the fuck are you thinking about that?” Quinn asked in a sharp tone as he fully twisted his body to face her. Stella felt her lips twitch up at how high his tone got; it always did when he was upset. Stella pursed her lips before she could smile and ruin the prank, she continued to speak calmly “A lot of people have asked me  ⸺ “ 

“Who the fuck is asking you that?” Quinn questioned stella, his tone angry as he thought of people trying to convince his little sister to start an account, fucking perves his hissed in his mind. No! Quinn was not going to let this happen. She must not be thinking straight, he continued to think. 

“You’d be surprised, apparently I'd make a lot of money!” Stella pretends to be excited at the thought, even giving Quinn a smile. Oh, he's so going to kill me, Stella thought to herself as she watched her brother's concerned expression turn into anger. Quinn shook his head in disbelief, bringing his hand up to rub at his temples as he closed his eyes, a sigh of stress leaving his lips before he opened his eyes and looked back at his sister. 

“Estella, you are 19 years old! You should still be playing with your barbies or somethin!” 

“The minimum age is eighteen . . . I’ve been researching it” Stella hummed as she nodded, biting her lip to stop herself from giggling at the dramatic exhale he let out.

“Oh, is that right” quinn muttered sarcastically under his breath, he didn't know how to approach the situation. He definitely did not agree with the idea of Stella doing that, but he also didn't want her to feel like he was judging her or was disappointed in her . . . but he knew it was a little late for that from his reaction. Quinn let out another sigh before speaking much more calmly “Stella . . . is this really something you want to do?” 

“I think so” she mumbled, starting to feel bad from how stressed he looked. 

“Well, I um . . . all I ask is that you really think about it okay?” Quinn spoke softly as he reached for Stella's hand, softly squeezing it. Yes, he wanted to forbid her from doing it, but he also didn't want to take her choice away from her, she had to make the choice herself, and he didn't want her to feel embarrassed to talk about things with him. He continued to speak as he locked eyes with Stella “This is a big decision, you know. Once things go on the internet, they never come off. Just really think if this is what you want to do.” 

Stella internally awes at Quinn's words, his initial reaction showed that he did not agree and was not happy with her words, but he calmed down and gave her a mature and sweet response. Quinn lets out a surprised “Oh!” when he feels Stella lunges towards him, wrapping her arms around his shoulder for a hug. Quinn is confused for a second, but he quickly returns the hug. Stella squeezes her eyes shut and speaks loud enough for her phone to pick it up “It's just a prank.” 

“What!?” Quinn exclaims as she pulls back from the hug, a giggle leaving Stella's lips at the confused look Quinn gives her. “It's just a prank quinny” Stella gets out between her loud laughter, her head tilting back against the couch. Quinn let out a heavy sigh, his body still tense even with the confession of it being a prank, he had to make sure “So you're not going to make an only fans?” 

“No, I'm not, don't worry!” Stella continues to giggle, her laughter only getting louder when Quinn lets himself lean back on the couch, his hand resting over his fast-beating heart. Quinn shuts his eyes and lets himself calm down, his body relaxing. “Oh, thank god!” 

“Why would you do that stella! Are you trying to kill me?” Quinn quickly shouts as he sits back up, many questions running through his mind. Who gave her the idea to do this? Why would she do this? And do you think I can guilt trip her into cooking dinner? 

“It was Jack's idea!” Stella was quick to throw her brother under the bus, quickly reaching to grab her phone to pause the video before it got too long. Quinn's eyes widen, and a look of betrayal comes across his face at the fact that she videotaped the whole thing. The last thing the camera gets is a shocked Quinn looking over a giggling Stella's shoulder. 

Stella tilts her head to look at her brother who got really quiet, her eyes widening at the glare he was giving her. She noticed a familiar look of mischief in his eyes, and she quickly got up from the couch and rushed down the hallway to hide in the guestroom, just as she closed the door, she heard the sound of his loud footsteps and the sound of him shouting. 

“Estella!” 

stellahughes has just posted a TikTok!

[caption: do you guys think jacks gonna be mad i blamed him? ]

username1 is Luke okay? I thought he was going to pass out from how hard he was coughing

username2 I- the way she blamed Jack. I can’t 😭

username3 they were stressing omg!

username4 the protective glare Quinn gave Stella when she said people were asking for it 🤭

username5 stella sweetie, are you okay?

Stellahughes no, I’m hiding from Quinn in the closet 🫤

Qhughes Hmm good to know

username5 did I just get Stella Hughes killed 😳

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°. — taglist ( @privatemythss @cixrosie @toasttt11 @lxvelyzoe @lovings4turn x )

[sandwhitches]

request: "can i have an orange and cherry popsicle (hurt/comfort) w suna where he accidentally snaps at reader ??? u can decide how it ends exactly but id like it to be fluffy :3"

𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 (𝐟𝐭. 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨)

a/n: u already know i’m going the fluffy route :3 had to repost bc im stupid and forgot tags the first time whoopsies!! also i was like not gonna put a banner on all of these but i don’t think i can physically make a post without one they’re so cute eeughhhh

genre: angst w/ a fluffy ending (hurt/comfort)

warnings: language, gn. reader, teeny argument, mentions of accidentally missing a meal

wc: 779

this is a part of my summer writing event!!! please feel free to send some requests my way :3

In theory, bad days happen just as much as good days, but every once in a while there is a particularly bad day that will fall onto your lap when you least expect it. That’s what today was for Suna. Particularly bad. 

This morning he’d rolled out of bed thirty minutes late, nothing too out of the ordinary for him, which is why he’s well versed in rushing a shower and scarfing down enough sustenance to last him until the afternoon. Traffic on the way to early morning practice? Been there, done that. Hours worth of conditioning? A little bit annoying, but it's not the first time that’s happened. Losing track of time and forgetting to eat lunch? Kinda sucky. Walking to his car to find a terribly noticeable door ding on the passenger’s side? Really sucky. 

Suna happened to have compiled an impressive list of minor inconveniences to combine with the other stack of shit, and it all adds up to the very worst part, taking it out on you. 

It was just an innocent question on your behalf about the dent in his car, “And you’re gonna have to pay?” You frowned sympathetically, watching in confusion as his expression turned completely to a sour contortion of a scowl, “Obviously, I am, the other car was gone by the time I came out.” He huffed in agitation with a superfluous roll of his eyes to seal the deal. 

You sputtered, brow tensed, “You don’t have to get so defensive.” Rintaro had groaned in response, tilting his chin, “Well what kind of a stupid question is that when I already told you what happened?” His breath caught in his throat with instant regret as you set your jaw tight with frustration, there was no doubt you were holding back a return that would only escalate what’s already been blown out of proportion. You stormed off, leaving Suna with the feeling that he quite possibly might be the biggest idiot in the world. 

As of now, you’ve only had the chance to be alone for a few minutes, taking your anger out by completing your most aggressive attempt at folding laundry to date. Suna knocks on the doorframe of your bedroom to announce his presence, you turn around to find him nervously thumbing at the meat of his palm, a guilty expression. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, looking up at the shift in your expression to gauge whether or not he was about to have a t-shirt thrown in his face. Who was he kidding? You’re the most understanding person he knows and he was stupid enough to snap at you. Suna thinks, in that moment, that there will never be anything big enough for him to get mad at you for again. Nothing feels worse than being like this, not even waking up late, nor conditioning, nor missing lunch, and especially not getting door dinged. 

“I just-...” he blows out a breath that makes his cheeks puff up while he sorts through countless words, trying to find the right ones to fix things, “I had a really bad day, and I’m sorry it made me snap at you…I'm an idiot.”  

“…You kinda are, huh?” Suna looks up to find that the echo of a grin has replaced the deep frown you had before, making the knot in his chest begin to loosen gradually. Rintaro huffs out a quiet laugh, “Yeah…” 

For a moment, you thought there might still be something else in his mind with the way his eyes dropped, head swimming in thoughts. The question sitting on your lips was quickly replaced by a yelp as Suna steps forward, wrapping you in his big arms and collapsing onto the bed.

“I love you, you know that?” He declares loudly, taking every playful kick you really don’t mean as you giggle uncontrollably, “Get off of me, Rin!” 

Suna snickers, kissing the crown of your head, “I can’t let go of you! Not until I make things right!” Your stomach already hurts from laughing as you writhe against him, feeling the lovely placements of tender kisses peppered across your face. 

“Let go before I put another dent in your car!” You shout, earning a bout of laughter from your boyfriend, “Low blow! I’m still recovering!” Suna knows that today was supposed to be bad, and for the most part it really was. But right now he has you pressed up against him like this, he can feel the rise and fall of laughter in your ribs, he smells the powdery scent of your shampoo, and presses his face into yours as close as physically possible. Yeah, he thinks, bad days don’t really exist if they all end like this.

[buddhamethods]

10 BL Characters I Would Hit With My Car

(I don't have a licence and can't drive so this is just for fun OBVIOUSLY)

LISTEN, I love these characters. They are complex, they are human, they are flawed and yet you can't help but root for them. Or they are just giant assholes.

Regadless, I think they would all benefit from getting hit by a car as a little treat.

Feel free to tag yourselves and participate in a bit of lighthearted negativity and media complaining.

1) Ben From Never Let Me Go (2022)

Of course he would be on this list. Mainly because how are you, a closeted gay in a coming of age bl drama, sitting down in front of a piano next to a beautiful boy and not just completely eat his face in a passionate life altering kiss? I understand that was the whole point of the scene, but personally I would rise above the narrative that was trapping me.

2) Dan from Not Me (2021)

Being a cop, killing Sean's father and selling NFTs is bad enough on it's own, I agree. But Dan's biggest sin was taking the cigarette out of Yok's mouth and depriving us of seeing sad First Kanaphan smoking near a body of water-THE queer cinema experience.

As it turns out, you can be gay and homophobic at the same time.

3) Kenji from My Dear Gangster Oppa (2023)

So you have funky hair and kawnty fashion sense? Oh, you partake in fun bathtub threesomes? What, you're a little unhinged and psychotic? Perfect! THEN WHY THE HELL YOU SUCK AT BEING A VILLAIN SO HARD HUH???

Kenji you better put your helmet on, I'm turning on the engine.

4) Kanghan from Dangerous Romance (2023)

Rich people don't deserve rights in general so Kang was already on thin ice to begin with. But being a bully on top of that? UNDER THE HOOD OF THE CAR YOU GO!

Also he is so attention starved on account of his father being a negligent asshole that he will jump in front of my car willingly just to get a drop of love from dad and Sailom.

5) Yu Xi Gu from HIStory3: Make Our Days Count (2019)

(I'm so so incredibly sorry but I HAD to okay you don't underst- *gets shot immediately*)

6) Mork from Fish Upon The Sky (2021)

I looked at Pond for 0.1 second and fell so embarrasingly in love that for the entirety of FUTS I saw no flaws in Mork's character at all. All he did made sense and I was blissfuly having a great time! So I'm pummeling him to the ground for my own sake I CAN'T KEEP BEING THIS STUPID ABOUT HIM HE IS OBJECTIVELY CREEPY!

7) Vee from Love Mechanics (2022)

Was he in my "I want them carnally" list? Yes. Do I find him beautiful and incredible? Double yes. Am I smearing him on asphalt like a squished bug for causing Mark so much unnecessary pain and heartbreak? More likely than you think.

8) Jiwoo from To My Star/ To My Star 2 (2021-22)

MY BEAUTIFUL BOY!! A crumb of healthy communication is all I'm asking for!

Jiwoo was so emotionally bricked up for the majority of both seasons that it caused ME damage. So me hitting him with my car is both a revenge plot and an attempt to let loose some of those pent up feelings of his.

(But also I'm dead meat if Seojoon finds out it was me behind the wheel. He loves that boy too much.)

9) Zee from Twins (2023-24)

I'm volunteering to do this as public service to keep Sprite and First together without any twins switch drama. One gremlin down, one successful volleyball couple UP!!

10) Winner from Pit Babe (2023-24)

I want to do it as an experiment. I feel like he would make a funny sound under the wheels, like when you sqeeze clown's nose or step on a rubber duck. I would also like to see how this will affect his character. Will he become even more annoying? Will it fix him completely? ONLY ONE WAY TO FIND OUT!!

(This was so fun I love inflicting imaginary violence on fictional men. If you read this far into this incoherent insanity, consider yourself tagged!💖)

[ikeoji-subs]

Zettai BL Ni Naru Sekai VS Zettai BL Ni Naritakunai Otoko 2024 - Episode 3 Eng Sub

VS CONFESSION and VS CUPID

For downloading instructions and where to find the raw files please check our masterpost

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translation notes:

about “suki” vs. “tsuki” (3:32)

This is explained in a brief translation note in the subtitles, and there isn’t a ton left to say about it that wasn’t stated there. But due to the amount of dialogue happening in this scene, we had to keep the note as short as possible and we weren’t able to keep it onscreen for very long, so it still bears mentioning here. 

In Japanese, the words “suki” and “tsuki” sound quite similar. “Suki,” as a lot of BL viewers know, means “like” or “liking,” whereas “tsuki” means “moon.” Hatano is saying “suki desu” to Mob, which in this context means he’s basically declaring his love for him. Mob is using the resemblance between “suki” and “tsuki” to pretend that he thinks Hatano said something to him about the moon. Then he uses the English word “moon” a couple of times, seemingly to ensure that Hatano won’t be able to turn around and take his “tsuki” as “suki.” 

As Mob says, usually a maneuver like this would make the person declaring their feelings get so self-conscious that they’d back off. But Hatano’s not a typical suitor, as Mob soon learns.–Towel

about “perfect match” (15:31)

I mentioned in our translation note about episode 1 that the red and blue beams that shoot out of Mob’s eyes seemed like a reference to his character from Kamen Rider Build. This time, I kind of made my own Easter egg about that show.

I mentioned before that Inukai Atsuhiro played the main Rider–and title character–on Kamen Rider Build. Kamen Riders always have some kind of transformation item, sometimes with interchangeable components. They're typically some kind of object attached to a belt, sort of like a massive buckle, that you can put smaller items into. The components that Build (a.k.a. Kiryu Sento) used at first (and to an extent, later in the series) involved “bottles” that were each named after some kind of object or animal. He would use two at a time, and the resulting juxtaposition (e.g. RabbitTank) would be reflected in his suit form somehow. But not every combination of bottles worked together, and some resulted in more effective suit forms than others. When Sento found a really good combination, his transformation device would designate it a “best match.” A “best match” resulted in more strength and more effective abilities to fight villains. 

Sento showing Banjou how best matches work

The phrase “best match” didn’t exactly fit here. But when I was polishing up this line and the word “match” came to mind, I felt like I had to at least try to word it in a way that would allow me to say something reminiscent of it--hence "perfect match." I hope some Build fans will recognize the sorta-reference!–Towel

Banjou annoying Sento by guessing a best match combination on his first try

Tag list: @absolutebl @bengiyo @c1nto @come-back-serotonin @lurkingshan @my-rose-tinted-glasses @porridgefeast @sorry-bonebag @twig-tea @wen-kexing-apologist

[lizlovell]

You're losing me

part 1

part 2

''Stop staring at her,it's creepy''

Pansy rolled her eyes at the blonde.

''It's not creepy,she is my girlfriend'', Draco replied, suprisingly for the first time since class started, ignoring everything else his friends were saying.

Pansy snorted,''Well apparently not''.

''Yeah man,why don't you just go talk to her instead of sending death-glares to everyone sitting next to her''

The words were simply ignored. Draco couldn't help it. He hated seeing her living like her life doesn't revolve around him anymore.

During the exam months before they take a break, all Draco thought about was to get away from you and all the tension built in your relationships. Being too busy under the exam pressure made him think your problems were nothing. He could see how your built up your guards up and how the dry conversations were cut short. He were annoyed that you kept on being strong for both of you although you were hurt. He didn't know how to handle,he couldn't find any word to make the situation better.So he ran away. But now that the exam pressure is gone, he found himself in the worse agnoy. He have to fix this.

...............................

''Y/N wait!''

''Y/N there are flowers for you in front of the common room..again''

''Miss Y/L/N, stop running in the hallway and bumping into everyone!The school is not a playground for Tag''

''Y/N I'm sorry i can't come to the library with you today''

It is an understatement to say the following weeks were funny and eventful for everyone at Hogwarts.They got some free shows to enjoy. It was a strange sight for them at first to see Malfoy trying to chase his former girlfriend. But then they got used to seeing you running in the hallway with Draco trying to catch up, flowers for you in the classes and in front of ur dorm, your friends getting paid to leave you alone, and everyone is just so invested to know what is going to be Draco's next move and how you are going to slip through it,again,some betting it won't last three weeks.

Despite you using all of your effort not to lose the bet and keep ur dignity, there you are again,back up against the walls and embraced in someone's warmth.

The familiar mixed scent of green apple and pine hovers and a wave of nostalgia washed over you with the familiar chest-ache.

There you are again– after nights and nights of crying your eyes out till they were dry– you find yourself pinned under the Draco fucking Malfoy against the cold stone wall of Hogswart .

''Y/N'', he voice cracked out of his throat betraying the tough act he is trying to put on. He just couldn't take it anymore. He can't stand the void that left him with dark circles under his eyes and he refused to believe you are doing well without him.

''Come back to me,love. I know you missed me too''

His eyes do not match the arrogance the words are carrying. You hate yourself for it but that longing gaze filled with sorrow and a tight grip on your waist was all it took to break down the self control you have tried so hard to build around you. He see right through you.

''Didn't you want this Draco, wasn't this what you wanted? away from me'',

''I was scared Y/N, i was so scared that i doubted us. So i ran away like a coward because i didn't know any better..i'm sorry'', he mean every apology he is saying.

''But now i'm scared to live without you, i don't want to be away from you,never again, please love, come back to me''

Your knees are weak and your vision is blurry. You taste something sour, is that a tear, are you crying again? ''Merlin,i'm so damn tired to crying'', you thought.

Soft lips pressed down on yours. You felt your stomach dropped. The taste of fire whiskey and your tears linger on your lips. A few sobs chocked out of you, feelings like you are finally woken up from a nightmare. All these touch and warmth,merlin knows how much you yearned for these. A sharp pain drew some blood from ur lips as if he is letting out all the frustration and finally finding comfort in it. The familiar feeling of belonging and love filled up the void.

''shouldn't have let you go my love''

Students of Hogwarts are going to be happy that they won't have to worry about falling victims to the certain couple's stunts and tantrums .

.....................................

I'm sorry this is rushed and bad but here's the ending >~<

[whalyrae]

DANCE WITH ME - CHAPTER 4

“If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself.”

Summary : All your life, you thought you were a beta, a simple and boring beta. Until everything change. But now that you've presented yourself as an omega, how will you manage to live and hide it from your six friends and best friend, all alphas and all in the same pack? (a/n : I'm a shit for summary I'm so sorry-)

Genre : soulmate au (of course I'm a bitch for this), omegaverse, bangtan alphas au!, omega reader, fluff, angst, eventual smut, polyamory relationships

Status : In process

Word Count : 2.2k

Warnings : the usual one I guess, like smut, angst, fluff (yeah its a warning for some people ) mention of depression, abusive parents (physically and morally), violence and blood, PTSD, scars, self harm,...

Tag list : @ghostlyworld 

A/N : OMG DOUBLE UPDATE ?? WHAT'S HAPPENING TO USER RORYTHME ??

Masterlist | ao3 | wattpad

Chapter 3 // chapter 5

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Wooyoung had insisted on meeting you at your house one day after class to find a song and discuss the choreography. You didn't really understand the reason behind it, but you didn't see any harm in it.

You offered to come by the following week, on a Friday afternoon. That day came rather quickly. Classes were taking up all your time to the point where the omega thing was taking a back seat. You weren't the only one who was overworked. Each of the seven boys was busy with their own activities. Jimin, Jungkook and Hoseok were spending even more time together, as they had a trio piece to prepare. You and Wooyoung had set up a meeting once a week to start with, leaving the rest of your free time to work on your own solo compositions.

By the way, you still had no idea which song you were going to present as a solo. You took the opportunity to ask Wooyoung for advice.

When you came back from class on Friday, Wooyoung wouldn't show up for another two hours. So you had plenty of time to work on the more theoretical classes while listening to some music and possibly finding a piece to present. But as you walked through the door, you witnessed a rather disturbing scene.

At least, now it was disturbing.

You didn't recognize directly which lap Yoongi was sitting on, but when you saw the blue hair on his neck and especially the broad shoulders, you identified Namjoon without any difficulties.

You were supposed to be used to it, you couldn't count the number of times you caught Taehyung and Jimin on that same couch, or Hoseok and Yoongi, sometimes doing much worse than just snogging.

You'd always felt a little tingle in your lower abdomen when you witnessed those scenes, but before today, you'd always blamed it on surprise. 

But this time was different. You could feel the heavy sexual tension that had built up between the two men, and fortunately they were still fully clothed. Their respective smells invaded your body and made you hot, very hot. For the first time, you felt uncomfortable.

Still, you succeeded to clear your throat to get their attention, sincerely hoping that none of them would feel your discomfort. It's a good thing they couldn't read minds, especially yours, because you would have been in a lot of trouble.

“Ah, Y/n , you're back already!” Namjoon didn't seem at all annoyed and disturbed at being interrupted, just like Yoongi who hadn't moved a muscle.

“How was school, kiddo ? Aren't the other kids with you?”

“No, they... stayed to practice but... don't you have an apartment? Seriously guys, we already talked about it, I'm not into threesomes…”

Your last words made them both laugh. You had said it in a joking tone, (you thought that a little humor would make you think of something else) even if inside you were lying boldly. 

You could imagine the two alphas getting up, approaching you slowly... Namjoon would be standing behind you, his hands would be on your waist, while Yoongi would be in front of you where he would put his lips on yours and...

“I thought I'd find Taehyung at first, I had to ask him something. Yoongi arrived to…” Namjoon frowned and turned to his companion, “why again?”

“I don't know. Anyway, we don't need to paint you a picture of what happens next.”

“No, Yoongs, I don't need to, I can visualize it very well. Too well,” you whispered before shaking your head, “but thanks for your concern, it means a lot to me,” you added with a touch of irony making them both laugh, “ah and then go do your thing elsewhere, I'm waiting for someone.”

You then turned your heels and went to the kitchen to serve you a large glass of water you drank in one go. Then a second one. You were really hot.

The two alphas looked at each other, rather surprised. Yoongi got up to sit on the sofa while Namjoon joined you in the kitchen, suddenly intrigued.

“Is that the guy you have to dance with?” Namjoon asked, “The other three told us, yeah. They couldn't remember his name though.”

“Wooyoung, his name is Jung Wooyoung,” you corrected him and finished your drink, “and yes, it's him. We need to come up with a song and ideas, you know, for the dance and stuff.”

You turned him around and opened the fridge to grab something, or just to enjoy the fresh air that was coming out of it.

“And your buddy, Wooyoung, he's an omega, right?”

Yoongi's question surprised you. You turned around and closed the refrigerator door, and found the two alphas in the kitchen, a few meters away from you. You stared at both of them, confused, and answered in an unsure voice.

“It's... yeah, it's an omega. Why that question?”

Neither answered right away. You looked up at them, and suddenly wanted to disappear through a small mouse hole.

“For... nothing,” Namjoon cleared his throat and ran a hand through his blue hair, “right, hyung?”

“Yeah, for nothing. That was inappropriate, excuse me.”

Yoongi shrugged and walked over to you. You were a little surprised at first, but soon realized that he wanted to go into the refrigerator. With a sudden move, you tried to move away and tripped on... on you don't even know what, probably your own feet. You were already ready to meet the floor. But that moment never came.

You felt an arm wrap around your waist to hold you against... a finely muscled chest. You slowly raised your head, and met Namjoon's gaze.

Was it your heart or his that was beating so fast? You had no fucking idea. But this simple contact awakened things in you, sensations and feelings that you didn't want to feel at all.

The room was silent for what seemed like an eternity. Namjoon and you had finally moved away from each other and at the same time... well, moving away was a big word, you had only broken the physical contact. Your faces were close, very close to each other.

“Thank you,” you said with a small embarrassed smile.

“Must believe that his clumsiness ends up spreading, added Yoongi, behind you with a slight chuckle.”

“Don't exaggerate, he's not so…” you paused and looked back at Namjoon before clearing your throat, “but... I was always clumsy anyway!”

Namjoon glared at Yoongi who had a slight sneer.

“Ah, and Wooyoung,” you shrugged, “he's part of a pack so…” you didn't even know why you were justifying it, you cleared your throat before whispering, “it's not like I could interest anyone…”

This sentence, they had both heard it. You realized what you said too late. You didn't even know why those words had come out of your lips, even though it was what you thought.

It didn't take long to get a reaction from them. Namjoon placed his hand on your head, lowering himself slightly to your height. Your eyes met again. The alpha's dark eyes looked into yours. You had never seen him so serious.

“Don't say any more of that nonsense, will you?”

“And don't underestimate yourself.”

Yoongi's voice behind you startled you slightly. You could feel his breath against your ear, which sent a shiver through your body. They were both close, too close to you. You didn't like it, or rather, it was like with Jungkook and Seokjin, you didn't like to admit you liked it.

Fortunately for you, a voice resonated in the apartment, abruptly breaking this somewhat... strange moment.

“Is anyone there? Hello!”

You recognized Taehyung who had just appeared. Yoongi, who seemed to be just as confused and disturbed as you, had backed away, as had Namjoon. While you had shifted to get yourself a third... or maybe a fourth glass of water?

“Ah, you're here, great! Uh... is everything okay? You look like you've seen a dead man…”

You glanced first at Namjoon, then at Yoongi.

“No, absolutely not!” You elbowed Namjoon, “I just almost got a foot in a cast. Or even both.”

“Exaggerate a bit more ? Nam shouldn't have caught you, at least we would have had a few laughs.”

“I exaggerate ? Really ? You're the one who says that, mister, "I start to cry when I can't find my shoes because my stuff is spread out in three apartments" ?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes as you and Yoongi continued to argue. Namjoon smiled slightly, and walked over to the newcomer to ruffle his hair and place a kiss on his forehead.

“Did you want to say something important?”

“Hm? No, absolutely not! I just like to come home and know that there's someone there!”

Taehyung's lips stretched as he accepted with undisguised pleasure the hug his partner offered him.

“Here, they're pouting at each other again…”

Namjoon looked up after his younger brother's remark. You had indeed gone to your room, while Yoongi had gone back to the big couch with his phone in hand.

“Thirty minutes, watch in hand,” Namjoon said, winking at him.

That was how it worked here, especially between Yoongi and you. Things often turned very bitter between you, not surprising when you had two such strong characters. Although you never took long to reconcile.

As expected, less than half an hour later, you came out of your room, a more comfortable outfit on you. Without a word, you went to get two cans of beer, and joined the trio on the sofa. Taehyung was sleeping peacefully, his head resting on Namjoon's legs as he read a book, his right shoulder occupied by Yoongi's still on his laptop. You took a sip of your drink before handing it to him, without saying a word. Yoongi accepted it, and shifted his shoulder to rest against you.

Namjoon glanced at you and pursed his lips between them to hold back his smile. However, he thought back to what had happened before Taehyung arrived and couldn't help but wonder what might have happened if he hadn't interrupted them. And in fact, he didn't really know if he wanted to know, because no sane and platonic thoughts came to mind. And yet, it was you. 

Well, everyone considered you a member of their pack, although you had no physical or emotional ties with them other than friendly. Even though Namjoon could not deny that he had always felt a strong attraction towards you.

It was more than an attraction, he was aware of it, but he refused to admit it out loud. 

They had met you at the same time as Jimin, the two of you were both literally always stuck to each other, and naturally they had all become attached to you, and vice versa. 

Of course, the day will come when you will find a partner, or partners, who will love you and treat you as you deserve. You were a beta, but of course you had the right and the possibility to bond, just like any alpha or omega. But this thought, as friendly and kind was meant to be, did not please him. A sudden feeling of possessiveness towards you took possession of him, disturbing him as much as what he had felt earlier in the kitchen. 

Something had changed with you. He didn't know what it was, but it was there. He didn't know if he was the only one who noticed it, but you were acting differently with them. The changes were... very slight, but they were there. 

The words you spoke, you never talked about yourself that way. He wasn't born dumb. Neither was Yoongi. They understood the meaning of the words. Their reactions, however, were also unexpected. They had not controlled each other, which had never happened, because Namjoon had always managed to repress and control his feelings for you.

For the other alphas of the pack, he didn't really know, he had never really paid attention to how they acted with you. But he was aware of their feelings for you. They talked about it a couple of times.

And now that he was aware that something strange and new was going on, he would pay more attention. He would eventually get answers to his questions, he always did.

°°°

Wooyoung arrived a few hours later. Namjoon and Yoongi had gone back to their respective occupations. Taehyung had stayed behind. You tried your best to convince him to at least go and stay in another apartment, to bribe him with food, to beg him to at least leave them alone for a few hours, but nothing worked. The florist said he wanted to meet this mysterious omega he had heard so much about and that he would remain discreet and silent as a grave. This was not the case. 

Of course, social and extroverted as he was, he couldn't help but spend a good thirty minutes getting to know the omega, asking about him, his birthdate to find out what flower he was associated with, his favorite flowers, promoting the business he worked in, and even, to your surprise, wanting to learn more about the young man's pack. 

“Okay, Tae,” you got up and stood in front of Wooyoung, with a tight smile, “excuse him, when he starts, he has a hard time stopping... I'm going to go get my laptop from my room, you know, for the dance,” you turned to your roommate with a dark look, “we really, really have to work.”

“But noona... we're getting to know each other!” Taehyung pouted as he grabbed your hand, “let me stay with you, promise I'll be a good boy!”

You glanced at Wooyoung, who was holding his laughter. 

 "One more opinion wouldn't hurt us, you know," he finally shrugged. 

- Yeah! You see! He thinks like me! Taehyung stood up without letting go of your hand, please!" 

You pinched the bridge of your nose for a few seconds, and finally gave in with a nod, letting go of the alpha's hand to walk away and go to your room to get your computer. 

In truth, you had simply given up because the mere physical contact with him awakened in you what you felt every time you got too close to one of them

You shook your head, you didn't have to think about it. 

Did you call her noona?" you heard Wooyoung ask as you walked away

- Yes! Jimin, her and I are the same age! But she was born in March, Minnie in October and I'm from December! Jin is the oldest! Then there is Yoongi hyung, and Hobi and Namjoonie, our alpha dominant, they are both the same age! Y/n-nie, Jimin and me, and finally Jungkook, the youngest! That's it! That's our little pack!" 

You felt your heart suddenly warming up as you heard Taehyung's words. The nickname he had given you, you weren't used to hearing it. You weren't related to them, but he considered you a full member of their pack. 

And that was the same for every alphas.

Your guilt at hiding from them the fact that you were not a beta only grew with each passing day. At the same time, the memory of your family's reaction and rejection of you when they learned of your true nature was so painful that a pang of physical pain gripped your heart... You felt so comfortable with them. You couldn't bear the thought of reading that disappointment and disgust in their eyes again, let alone in theirs. You couldn't bear to lose Jimin. Not him. The thought made you want to cry. No, that simple thought made you cry. 

"Hey, Y/n, is everything okay?"

Wooyoung's voice startled you. You turned to him, and wiped your eyes quickly. Over the weeks and time spent together, a strong friendship had developed between you. You enjoyed Wooyoung's company, and he enjoyed yours. He was the only one who knew your secret, the only one you could really confide in. 

“Did you hear him?” you finally whispered, “they consider me one of them, even though I'm only their friend, and I lie to them every day about who I am…” you breathed in deeply, as new tears rolled down your cheeks, “I'm horrible, selfish…”

“No, no, don't say that!” Wooyoung came up to you and gave you a comforting hug, “you have your reasons, and when you explain them, they will understand, I'm sure. Taehyung is a lovely person, just like Jimin, Hoseok and Jungkook... I haven't had a chance to meet the other three yet, but I'm sure they're like them, I can feel it!”

“They are, I swear, they are... so caring, to each other, or even to me... that's why I'm so mad at myself... but I can't, not now I... it's too soon…” 

You were angry with yourself, you hated yourself, you hated your family for creating this trauma in you. 

And god, you hated feeling this constant attraction to your seven friends and roommates, one of them being your best friend as well. Why couldn't you be a goddamn beta, like you always thought you were? Why did things have to change like this and mess up your life and theirs like this?

You felt Wooyoung's hands rest on his shoulders, he had bent slightly to get to your level, a soft smile on his lips. 

“ 'Admitting and accepting who you are and how you feel is a very important first step.’ Seonghwa hyung asked me to give you this message!”

You widened your eyes slightly. Yes, you understood Seonghwa's words. But for the moment, you didn't know if you were really ready to accept all... all these new sensations, these feelings, and impose them on a pack of alpha's bound together in this way. You didn't want to come across as some kind of creep or God only knows what else. 

You took a deep breath, and managed to calm yourself down after few seconds. You wiped your cheeks and wanted to open your mouth to apologize. Wooyoung stopped you and simply shook his head, telling you that it was nothing.

“ You should meet him, Seonghwa,” Wooyoung added with a sweet smile, “in fact they'd all like to meet you,” he admitted shyly, “I'm not really used to making real friends, so of course they're intrigued to meet you...!”

“I would be honored to meet them, you replied, you talk so much about them too!”

You were really grateful to have met Wooyoung. Sometimes, the hazards of life didn't always put negative things in your way. 

You didn't want to think about all those stories anymore, at least for now. You needed to clear your mind, and dancing was the only way you could do that. 

‘“Oh, by the way, I didn't get a chance to tell you when you came in,” you said, grabbing your laptop, “but I had an idea for our song earlier and even the beginning of the choreography. Shall I show you?”

“You're good to bring up the subject!” exclaimed Wooyoung with a smirk, “I had an illumination this morning, for you!”

“For me?”

“I found the perfect song for your solo! It was in Yeosang's playlist and... it was so obvious to me! You'll see, you'll love it! you and your alphas…”

You opened your lips to say something, suddenly feeling the blush on your cheeks, but then you cleared your throat. Why not, after all. Not for the sake of pleasing anyone, not at all... just... just out of curiosity and because you trusted him, that's why!

[xxnashiraxx]

With Stars to Fill My Dream (11) - Try to Keep the Truth From Showing Up

Hi!! Sorry for the delay!!! I've been having fun learning how to make gifs and things for this fic! It's been a blast, but that's why it's taken so long!

✧˖ Please remember, the update schedule has been adjusted to every other week - Chapter 12 will come out on 10/20! ˖✧

Summary: A street-smart, musically inclined human girl with a tragic past gets abducted by a nautiloid after her painfully average shift at a retro singing diner. What's worse- putting your all into Olivia Newton-John and Travolta for lousy tips, or getting your guts ripped out by a gnoll? Or worse- getting turned into a hideous humanoid squid? Ofelia Montez will have to see if she can survive long enough to find out.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count: 9,535

I have some screenshots below, as well as the non-spoiler version of the art at the end of the chapter on AO3! Please enjoy and happy October!!!

Behold! The spoiler-free version of this artwork! Just in time for spooky season!

+Blighted Village shenanigans and sucky, angsty stuff.

✧˖Tag List: @khywren

Opening under the cut!

“Won’t you try? She likes you.” Astarion scowls at their annoying half-elf cleric, going back to sewing.

“While it feels good to hear you say it, Shadowheart dear, I’m afraid she isn’t taking visitors. She didn’t even bat an eye when young Wyll’s patron turned him into a devil. I’m sure seeing my face wouldn’t cheer her up much.”

“Ugh, you’re such a prick, you know that? Imagine just trying,” She turns heel, complaining the entire way back to the fire. He snickers, finishing up the filigree near the edges of the piece. It’s adequate, hardly his best work, but it’ll do. It’d surprised him that he’d even started the project, to begin with. He’s hardly ever been one for sentimentality but… well, he’d never been given the choice before, had he? She may think it’s shit craftsmanship, anyhow. Either emotional reaction would be satisfying.

“Knock, knock, darling.”

“Go away.”

“Please let me in, everyone’s worried about you and expects me to do something about it. Nonsense, I know, I told them you hate my guts and wish I’d die.” She flings the flap open, her hair a wild mess winding around her head. Furious eyes glare daggers at him, dark kohl smeared beneath them.

Quite a sight.

“What? I never said that!” Her high-pitched voice makes him snicker and she rolls her eyes. “Right, a joke. Very funny. Look, I told Wyll I was sorry about what happened to him. I gave Karlach an air hug. I told that blue-winged bitch to take a long walk off a short pier. Not that it’d work, she can fucking fly...” Her expletives make him smirk, watching her wave her arms around her head as she turns back to look inside her tent. “Now can’t I just brood in here about what stupid Raphael said, in peace, without everyone trying to butt in?” He smiles, thinking she looks rather ridiculous, before stepping inside and making himself at home atop the little stool she keeps in there. She doesn’t protest further, meaning she’s begrudgingly happy he’s here, and won’t shoo him out.

“You know, when a devil tries to get me to take a deal by dangling things in front of me they’ll know I would want to hear, I don’t take it too seriously. He was only offering it to see if you’d take the bait.”

“Gee, you don’t think I didn’t know that?” She grimaces after she says it, eyeing him apologetically as she sinks down onto her messy bedroll. “Sorry… I just… how else would he have known those things to even offer that?” Astarion waves a hand dismissively.

“They know all, but it’s only to get you to accept their offer. They’ll provide, but once that’s done you’re indebted to them for eternity. Never forget that.” She looks down into her lap, gaze troubled. When she looks back up at him it’s with those wet round eyes that he abhors.

Perhaps they’re starting to grow on him, however…

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Hey, not sure if it’s recognizable but it’s the same anon who doesn’t know how to start messages. If you don’t mind me asking (I feel the need to ask permission for everything to be polite. Hope that’s not annoying. Also the need to use parenthesis to explain my actions like right now…I’ll stop), since I saw that it says you’re writing a fantasy book (I think, hopefully I’m not wrong), what’s it about? Feel free to share as much or as little as you like, I’m simply curious about it. Also also, somewhat unrelated, do you have any other favorite genres aside from Whump?

Again, feel free to answer as in depth or as curt as you want, I don’t mean to put pressure on you (people like talking about their works, right?). And also make sure you stay hydrated and take care of yourself and all that :)

-idk

Figured I’d leave a little tag as a little reference or something. Okay I’m going to stop before I start rambling-

Sorry it took so long to answer this one! I had to do a lot of writing for it. I'll TRY to give a summary of my in-progress trilogy, but it's pretty long since it's a full 3-book series and each book is HUGE and I've never been good at summarizing anyway LOL. But here goes!

The trilogy is about a teenager named Thomas whose dad mysterious died and whose brother Lucas went missing shortly after. Thomas is a hacker who is skilled with technology and is determined to track his brother down, convinced that he was kidnapped and needs saving. But every lead he finds comes to a dead end. He's dropped out of school and cut off his entire social life to dedicate more time to tracking down his missing brother.

Tanner, a close adult friend of his, worries about him getting into trouble and potentially going to prison since he has committed several felonies already by hacking into government databases during his search. So, he suggests seeking help from a friend of his. Only thing is... this friend isn't human. And she hates humans. But his secret friend (named Shadow) ALSO hates the same organization Thomas is trying to get in to, who has his brother Lucas. She is dangerous and powerful, and could be an incredibly valuable ally. She is one of the last survivors of a thought-to-be-extinct race called Falkry, with ancient powers. They were thought to have died off centuries ago, after Falley were hunted and slaughtered by the dozens by humans.

So with a mutual enemy, Tanner tries to get Shadow and Thomas together to talk, though Shadow wants nothing to do with it at first and despises Thomas (making many threats toward him in the beginning). She hates the fact that he is human, the same race that killed so many of her bloodline. She is ancient, supposed to be nothing more than a myth, a legend. She's one of the only survivors that exists. But eventually Tanner gets her on the team and together they manage to Lucas back.

Until a new stranger comes into play, someone just like Shadow. Which is strange since her species is supposed to be extinct. It leads into a mystery theme where Shadow is eager to discover this new stranger's identity, and *spoilor* it turns out to be her own brother (named Rowan) who died in her arms ages ago. But it turns out there was an enemy who found a way to bring him back to life to use him as a weapon, but he is corrupted, and is willing to fight Shadow to achieve his goal, which is to destroy the human city because humans are what got him killed in the first place.

And while Shadow HATES humans, she knows that if Rowan launches a large-scale attack on the city, it will spark a war between her kind and humans, and the humans have the numbers to finally make her species extinct for good. So it creates some internal conflict where Shadow is torn between not hurting her brother who she still loves, and stopping him to save the human city to prevent all-out war.

There is an epic battle at the end, where both Rowan and Shadow end up seriously injured, when Thomas appears and shoots a crazed Rowan to save Shadow -- but it doesn't work out like he expected, because then Rowan's focus shifts to killing HIM instead.

While Rowan's back is turned, Shadow gets up from where she'd been bleeding and broken on the ground -- and runs up to her brother, and kills him with her own dagger, finally accepting that he's too far gone to save. So her brother dies in her arms for a second time, shattering her heart with grief despite how much trauma and pain she's already endured.

After that, she decides to disappear from the map entirely, leaving Thomas and the human city to fly miles into the ocean to a lost island called Falkradia where her species used to exist before they were chased out by humans -- she wants to be alone, and be done with all the fighting and bloodshed. She partly blames Thomas for putting her in a situation where she had to choose between him and her brother in the first place, blaming him for forcing her to kill Rowan.

The island is hidden from all human radars and is surrounded by an eternal storm that shields it from view, a storm vicious enough to shred nearly any human vessel that tries to go through it to reach the island inside. So Shadow leaves the team Tanner helped put together.

This all takes place in book 1.

In book 2, to make it brief, a new threat arises that Shadow is one again recruited to help defeat, Tanner sending her a message via her close friend raven who knows how to fly through the storm and reach Falkradia to deliver the message to her asking for help.

Despite how morally-gray and careless Shadow is depicted as in book 1, she does show up to rejoin the team, though she is not enthusiastic about it.

A series of events occur after she comes back from ten island, but in the final battle against the overpowered foe... she dies to save Thomas. It has some powerful symbolism because up to this point Shadow has been very impassive and uncaring toward anyone, full of bitter anger and hatred, so no one knew she actually secretly cared about what happened to Thonas, who is her natural enemy as a human.

But Shadow still manages to kill her enemy right before she collapses in a final last act of good, and Thomas can't do anything but watch her slowly bleed out. Cue extremely sad death and drawn-out scene to rip reader's heart apart. The aftermath is tragic as the team grieves the loss of the morally-gray hero who gave her life to save and protect a human friend. (Okay, it wasn't as brief as I hoped oops)

In book three, a different kind of antagonist/protagonist plot develops, and it's a danger that Tanner, Thomas and the team know they would never stand a chance against on their own.

That's when Tanner reveals that he actually knows a way to bring back the dead. So they eventually agree to bring Shadow back after five long years of her being dead... but she isn't herself. She immediately starts attacking her friends the moment she is alive again, her mind and thoughts fractured from being dead for so long. And considering how dangerous she is, Thomas and friends have to find a way to take her down before she can kill them. And on TOP of that is the lingering anxiety surrounding the new threat they have to deal with, knowing that Shadow is likely the only one powerful enough to help destroy it -- IF they can get the legendary hero back, mind and soul included.

There is a LOT more details I left out for the sake of time, but these summaries hopefully give the vague gist of the stories (all 3 books in the trilogy are spectacularly lengthy so it's hard to give a good summary)

And my favorite genres aside from Whump is Science-Fiction & Fantasy

[therealgchu]

15 lines of dialogue

15 Lines of Dialogue Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

thanks @fangbangerghoul for the tag! tagging @silurisanguine, @atonalginger, @bearlytolerant

"I can sit still if I want to, but it takes a great amount of self-discipline, and that doesn’t leave much energy to fully pay attention to people speaking. I need to be physically moving for that. For some reason, people find knitting to be less annoying than fidgeting. I don’t know why."

She shook her head, “Dissociation. Or something akin to it. I can turn off all emotions and my mind goes into a purely logical, analytical mode. I was processing data.”

“Rice and kimchi. I don’t like tacos.”

She exhaled slowly and nodded, rolling her shoulders back, correcting her posture. “I’m sorry. I generally don’t like to be touched,” she said coolly.

"There’s not a lot scarier than middle-aged Korean women."

"If I wanted a man, I took him. If he wasn’t interested in me, that was fine, I moved on. I love sex. I love men. I love the way they look, the way they smell, the way they feel, the way they taste. But, I’m not going to play some stupid game to get one. It’s not worth my time.”

“Anyway, yes, I really like that metaphor. Criminal caterpillar to crime fighting butterfly. But, without the liquefaction.”

She turned and looked at him, and poked him in the arm. “You look like a chicken leg,” she said in the same growly voice, and started squeezing his bicep.

Hwa looked at him critically. “Nothing. You can’t fix me, Sam, I know you mean well, but I’m not a broken doll to be put back together.”

She picked the drink back up, glared at it, then swallowed it down in one gulp. “Get me another,” she shuddered.

She twisted the skirt of the dress and lifted it so that her entire backside was uncovered. She leaned a bit, holding onto the railing and looked back at him, “Easy access,” she purred, “also why I wore these ridiculous heels. Makes things easier.”

Her eyes drilled into his, “So, no. My mother did not love me. I have no urge to see her again.”

"Pirates are kinda stupid. The whole pirate romance thing was nonsense. Scurvy, buggery, frequent starvation, not my idea of a good time. As someone that spent way too much time in their teen years reading Horatio Hornblower and learning about Lord Nelson’s Navy, being a pirate was pretty shitty."

She nodded, “But, I think she got bored by the end, too. And, it’s very difficult to read when you have slices of cucumber over your eyes. I’m not sure what the cucumber slices are for, however. So I ate mine.”

“Vodka, it’s for what ails ya,” she said flatly, lifting the drinkbox as if in a toast.

[stephenbyerley]

the grave-digger puts on the forceps

hi, i’m alex/asimov/whatever you want to call me really. i’m a nonbinary transfxg (he/they) who’s had this blog for >10 years now, tho i did take a prolonged sabbatical in my late teenage & early adulthood. here you’ll find a mishmash of things i think are funnie, politics, my interests, and random ramblings. i’m also one of those annoying people who yaps in the tags a lot, sorry. more—one might even say tmi—under the cut.

some fun and/or boring facts about me, in no particular order:

i am from mississippi and have been on T since age 15, got legal name/gender change (first minor in my state to do so!) & top surgery at 16

i currently live in toronto

as of october 2024, i have had phalloplasty using the delayed ALT technique with dr. crane! transition (especially surgical) is a major interest of mine so please feel free to ask me anything. seriously, i have zero boundaries and looove talking about this shit.

i have a boyfriend/partner whomst i love very much

you can see my face at #alexelfie

i am obscenely horny for old men, all things grotesque, and fucked-up dynamics

i’m a leftist who is not well-read enough to narrow my political ideology down to a particular label but i usually describe myself as a commie. it’s close enough, at least.

i love diy projects, i like knowing how things work and being able to take them apart & put them back together :)

i am terrible at taking initiative but i am always happy to chat about anything & everything! you can always slide into my inbox/dms and treat me with whatever level of familiarity you like and i’ll reciprocate. conversely, if i ever come off as too familiar, let me know and i’ll back off.

i am a very honest and genuine person—it’s something i pride myself on. i am happy to (over)explain myself if i ever say anything that doesn’t make sense or raises an eyebrow, and i always want to be corrected and given more info when i’m wrong about something.

related to the above, i can be obnoxiously pedantic. i do my best to rein it in when it’s something unimportant or just a joke, but it’s a deeply ingrained habit. feel free to call me out on this. i rarely intend to be condescending, but i know i can come off that way, and it’s something i’m working on.

thanks for reading & hope you enjoy my blag!

[numba1germhater]

INTRO POST!

— WHO ARE YOU?

oughh hi my name is sin i run this funny little rp/ask blog hip hip hooray

im lithromantic and genderfluid and i go by he/she pronounce yes yes

lampert goes by he slash him as said in that poorly made bio i made in like 4.5 seconds

feel free to talk to me im not a big bully i prommy 💔💔💔i might be a bit awkward though cause im scared of people lowk

— BOUNDARIES / DNI

tbf, I don't have much

just ummm know that i won't participate in shipping stuff and that im not the biggest fan of like the lampert being wallter nd marks son hc

do NOT spam my little mailbox please brah

other than that, do whatever just don't ask me suuuper personal or weird things (towards me at least) or be super duper annoying or ill find you and lock you up and study you like a little specimen 🙏🙏

just like

have your fun brah idk as long as you're having a joyous time then im having a joyous time

Also, please dni if you're pro/comship or fit into like the basic dni criteria pleaspleeapdlepalapepes thanks.

If you're not in my dni you can interact!! Ocs and other rp blogs can interact as well!!

— OTHER

i may be a bit ooc with this fella sorry gang im not lampert irl so some things won't be like 100% canon 😕😕also some hcs maay be put into this?? i don't know

In my funny little ramblings I may make some sex jokes so just be warned cause I do say some suggestive stuff 😓😓

Feel free to make some drawing reqs btw!! Slightly suggestive stuff is fine, no nsfw or shipping stuff please — also I might not do all of them for the sake of my poor poor fingers and mental health so some drawings maaayy take a bit who knows

anyway ummm there'll be a few tags that i use oughh wowza wowza so cool

//ooc is just for when im not playing the funny little role of lampert

also i maaayyy update this a bit or a lot who knoowwwssss... and i might remake this one day

Reblogs would be veery much appreciated so this funny little blog can stay alive for as long as I live /hj

— TAGS

‐ #7deadlyYAPS – me yapping cause I'm actually so awesome

- #LampRambles – lampert yapping cause he is STUPID!!!

- #asks4FREAK – asks for mee for little ol mee blinks cutely and bats eyelashes little ol me

- #LampAsks – asks for lampert hooray!! Cheer!! Wooo!! Wow!! Yes!! Claps!! Yes!!

- #OutOfIkeaCouches – usually tagged with my funny little yap tag yesyes just for ooc stuff

- #RebloxStuff – THIS TAG SUCKS!!! IGNORE IT!! (it's just stuff i reblog)

other than those i maaaayyy use a few other tags as well

[bonesandthebees]

It's very funny to see my dash filled with QSMP stuff yet not being into it myself. I think now I understand how all those people felt when they were exposed to DSMP content/discourse, because the stuff I see now sounds absolutely insane sometimes (I dropped off after Juanaflippa died and haven't been up to date ever since).

Anyway, the Halloween story! I really liked what you did with leading us to believe that Wilbur was the guilty one (the conversation in the bar really sold that idea) and then slowly letting us realise that maybe things aren't the way we think they are. Small towns hold so many secrets..

Burning down the corn somehow felt like the last punch they could pull and in a way it was very poetic. A nice sense of closure.

I also wonder what was Phil's reaction when the boys told him the story. Could you tell us more about it? (or redirect me to a post if this was already answered)

-🌹

LMAO I'm so sorry for filling your dash with qsmp I'm sure that's gotta be wild to experience. qsmp is insane enough when you know what's going on, the outside POVs have gotta feel so wild

I don't blame you for dropping off after juanaflippa died I definitely considered dipping but then the wilbur soot tallulah week happened and I was revitalized and became extremely invested in that beanie wearing egg with hair. then I got highkey attached to everyone else and now I rotate q!phil in my mind constantly he's soooooo :)

(general reminder to my followers: if something I post a lot of and don't tag is annoying you feel free to ask me to tag it so you can block the posts! I stopped tagging my qsmp posts a while ago but I can go back to doing that or create a new tag for them if you don't wanna see them)

anyway moving on

aw thank you I'm so glad you enjoyed!! I had a lot of fun playing around with the misdirection in the foreshadowing. that conversation in the bar was especially fun to write because quackity holds the same assumption as the readers: that wilbur killed their father. wilbur knows this is what quackity thinks and doesn't do a whole lot to dissuade that notion, thus further cementing the idea to the readers as well. it was a lot of fun wordplay for me

ngl I've just always wanted to write a midwestern gothic type thing that ended with a cornfield burning down the mental image is just too cool. also like you pointed out I thought it gave the story a nice sense of closure :)

okay so this ask doesn't get too long (and so people can keep things vague if they want) i'll put the 'what happens when phil finds out' bit under the cut

so I wanted to leave things with phil vague so the readers could make their own interpretations, but I'd like to think that phil actually suspected that wilbur and tommy had something to do with their father's disappearance from the start. he never put too much stock into it though because he always thought they would've told him if they did actually have a hand in it. so instead he just kind of purposefully turned a blind eye to all the signs and imagined their father probably went and pissed the wrong person off at the wrong time while drunk and got a bullet between the eyes as a result. it wasn't exactly wrong.

anyway, finding out that his original gut feeling was right and they were the ones to kill him hurts phil a lot. not because his brothers murdered their father, but because they didn't tell him about it for ten years. when more details get revealed and he learns that tommy was the one to shoot him and not wilbur, he understands a little more why wilbur was so reluctant to tell him but still, the hurt is there. at the very least, he understands why wilbur left now, and that's been an open wound for him for years at this point. so that bit of closure, combined with knowing for sure that their father is never coming back, makes up for the pain of knowing how long his little brothers lied to him.

basically the conversation ends with phil reassuring tommy a lot while scolding wilbur for leaving for eight years instead of telling him the truth. hours later though, probably once the sun has risen and tommy has passed out in his room, phil sees wilbur sitting at the dining table staring blankly into his coffee mug. he thinks about what wilbur told him before about how he learned to run away from him, and that phil wasn't there when they needed him. he thinks about the guilt in wilbur's eyes when he told phil that tommy had to shoot their dad because he just couldn't pull the trigger himself.

and phil goes and hugs his younger brother, and tells him that it wasn't his fault. that he did the best he could. that it's okay that he couldn't pull the trigger. and wilbur hugs him back, feeling like a little kid again wrapped up in his big brother's arms.

it's not okay yet. it might not ever be fully okay. but they're dealing with it. as a family this time.

[perfectlyvalid49]

Entering your asks because I have seen your post about Jewish trauma and replies all over my dash (and only doing it on anon because of how stilted and awkward I always am with strangers that I admire). Your patience and earnest attempts to educate and inform those too stubborn, arrogant, and convinced of their absolute moral correctness is astonishing, and I am sorry the world's once more in such a state of hate that you had to make that post in the first place, let alone deal with a mess of antisemitic BS in the notes. (I am sorry we goyim on the left are failing the Jewish community as badly as we are. We never seem to learn, no matter how patiently you hold our hands through the explanations.)

You seem to be all kinds of awesome.

First, thank you!

Second, I’m sorry for being all over your dash. It was a long post to begin with and it only got longer as everybody yelled at the anti-Semite. It was all over my dash too, and *I* was beginning to find it annoying.

It feels weird to be admired, as I think my most notable qualities are “good at remembering rules to TTRPGs,” “incredibly stubborn,” and “does not know when to shut up.” If you feel more comfortable on anon, that’s fine, but if you ever want to put your name on things, know that most of my friends (myself included) are in the “neurospicy and have less than awesome social skills” group, so awkward isn’t going to bother me any.

The patience comes from having two elementary aged kids. If I can deal with a toddler, I can deal with an adult acting like a toddler. Also, I used to be a receptionist at a pediatrics office – so I actually have a lot of experience customer servicing adults acting like toddlers, to be honest.

As for a willingness to educate, I genuinely believe that hatred in all its forms comes from ignorance. It’s much easier to hate a faceless entity than a real person, and it’s easier to hate a group that you have no experience with than to hate a member of that group that you’re having a conversation with, especially when they’re being reasonable. I’ve been a LOT of people’s first Jew, and I don’t mind being the person to show that Jews are just normal people. Even if the person I’m in conversation with isn’t getting it, my hope is that someone on the sidelines – either their followers or mine, will.

There are two Jewish concepts at play here. The first is “tikkun olam,” or “repairing the world.” The idea is that the world is not perfect, and it is our duty to make it better. I feel like educating people, and hopefully reducing hate is a way of doing that. The other is a quote from the Talmud - “You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.” I don’t have to teach everyone, but when presented with the opportunity to teach someone, I have to at least try. The way I see it, doing this is part of how I practice Judaism.

As for the goyim on the left, a lot of them have let me down. But every once in a while I get an ask or a message like this from someone who seems to understand. Or I’ll point out someone’s antisemitism, and they’ll actually listen to the criticism and try to do better. It gives me hope. Since I made that post, I’ve received kind messages from a handful of people privately, plus there’s been some love in the tags on reblogs. Between that and getting all that off my chest in the first place, I honestly feel better now than I did a week ago. Thanks to everyone who helped with that, including you, Anon.

[gnotknormal]

Do you run a social group, online or in person, and you care about accessibility for people with neurodivergence or anxiety?

As a person with anxiety and neurodivergence myself, I find a lot of social events just are not accessible to me. Currently your three choices are often;

In person meets

Scheduled video/voice chats

Discord servers or Facebook groups

They each have their own accessibility issues, and I find that often people presume that ONE of those choices will work for you - when in my opinion, quite often due to the increased energy and time it takes to meet our own needs and advocate for ourselves, none of these choices really ARE achievable. For those of us who struggle with new experiences and places (in person meets) and problems such as auditory processing and difficulties with technology (video/voice chats), we often feel like the only viable choice is the 3rd option. Discord servers, Facebook groups and other online spaces. And in these spaces the chat is ongoing and persistent with a lot of challenges that I don't see people talking about.

We really do miss out so much from these experiences. I recently saw a post of an answer by ms-demeanor (sorry didn't want to be annoying and tag) about the basics of making friends and Discord servers really throw a spanner in the works for how humans naturally make friends.

(I won't repeat the post but I will link it somewhere just ask if you need it)

Basically the problem with Discord servers etc is that there is no end time, no log off. It's either CoNsTAnTLy inTERAcT or MISS OUT. Which is particularly dificult for those of us with neurodivergence and anxiety. Often being in a Discord server feels so lonely because you are adamantly aware that you're not part of THE GROUP - which is often young people who have more free time and the capacity to be online more often. No shade on those young people but it does add to the isolation felt by those of us who cannot commit like this.

Don't get me wrong, I've found a good few servers where there are lot of those low stakes interactions that could lead to friendships. But that's not the point.

My suggestion for those of you who run social groups/interest groups or whatever and you want your neurodivergent and anxious members to feel included and to get involved is to run what I'm calling a Type In Chat social.

You pick a time as you would with an in person meet or video chat or seminar or whatever, but take the Discord server route. You have an hour or two for people to hop into a TEXT CHAT and talk about the theme or the interest or to just chat and have some of those less stressful, less pressure interactions in a situation where they can put the time aside with their sensory/anxious needs being met - for instance part of my stress with video chats is that I can't have background music or play on my phone to regulate my attention.

And then at the end of it everyone can say "goodbye, see you next time!".

Of course it isn't perfect, but this is a format that I personally haven't seen being used and I think it could really help a lot of people to feel involved and included without being put out or stressed by the struggles of the other options. I think we deserve this 4th option.

Lemme know what you folks think and please reblog if you think it sounds like a good idea to spread around. I'm going to start hosting some of these in my private Discord and see how it goes (though is a very small community so! We will see).

Have a great day folks, c ya.