#then have them tell you everything and teach you

[oliveish]

I’m sorry but no. This will get you no where near actually being able to walk with your dog. By sitting down or ignoring or waiting or treating all that’s happened is your dog has found out that you do something because they did not listen. Stopping in anyway is only reinforcing that behavior, even if eventually they decide to get up. Especially if your dog is stubborn or smart (or both).

It’s a pain and it sucks but the only way to walk well with your dog is to teach it how to walk with you properly. This takes time and patience and persistence, and the proper knowledge of how, but it is so so beyond worth it to have a dog you can trust and can actually work with.

Trust me I know, my dog (full showline Aussie, already over a year with 0 work when I got him) before i got to the point he’s at now was beyond a pain. I hated working him because it was exhausting and he was a super stubborn button pusher. He never walked at a heel, he took minutes to sit, he pulled and pulled and pulled. It took over a year for him to actually start listening to me and that was only because I became consistent in correcting him. Now I can walk with no leash with him at a heel and auto sit with no equipment.

Get proper equipment*, like a flat buckle collar, a martingale (the ones with the chain piece are the best over cloth) or a gentle leader (the best for a puller) and start making them walk properly. It takes forever because they have to trust you. When they are in front they are the boss and any coddling will only reinforce that. This does not in anyway mean be rough or physical with your dog, only show them that they can trust you to lead them. Having a dog who trusts you makes everything so so much better in every way because they are not doing everything alone, they are not having to protect you and themselves, they know you have their back. It also helps a lot with fear and protective behaviors.

And honestly best thing. Find a trainer. Someone who knows what they are doing and specifically one that stresses you building that bond with your dog.

*I do not condone shock collars for this or pinch collars. Unless you know how to use them properly and your dog is fit for one, do not use them. If you go to a trainer and they immediately tell you to use one (especially if they do not explain how to use them properly) stop working with them. These are very specific tools that should only be used by people who know how to use them and their dog requires one. Never ever use either on a fearful dog or a soft dog you will break them. Seriously. There is other equipment that could be better for your dog but get a proper opinion from someone who knows dogs, dog training, and is in person.

*Also if they are on a harness switch to a collar. Harnesses actually make your dog pull more every time you pull because of specific pressure points it presses on their chest. Your dog can wear a harness for safety that’s just fine but just have another collar that the leash is attached to!

parents were amazed how well the dogs walked on leash so in case this trick is more uncommon than I thought here’s my training technique

If a dog pulls on the leash just stop and stand there

that’s it that’s the trick you become a seat belt it works real fast. Start walking again if they stop pulling & even better if you wait until they look at you first (sometimes u might have to call them back to stop pulling if they are a bit dumb)

[midnite-c6]

hear me out — nam-gyu is actually soooo icky. i don’t care what anyone tells me. he’s a icky icky man. he’s so fucking mean too. he thinks of women as possessions (he’s sooo misogynistic. you can’t convince me otherwise) like what do you mean women are their own person and can control their own lives?! no…. they are possessions!

additionally, he is sooo convincing with his words — he can get anyone to trust him quite easily (especially if they’re naive) and he’s taking full advantage of that.

honestly nam-gyu probably has anyone naive trying things they were always against. he has such a way with words when it comes to getting anyone to open up or doing what he wants them to do. he'll give them everything they need to get them to say yes even if it means making promises he doesn't even plan to keep or fulfill.

also, no one can convince me otherwise that this man doesn’t have a thing for trad wives. he definitely likes the idea of codependency and the fact that someone clings to him like a second skin (but let’s be honest, he definitely doesn’t make it out to seem like he likes it — it’s always constant degradation from him: “stupid bitch, can’t ever do anything for yourself, huh? i have to do everything for you”). also likes the idea of baby trapping, because you can’t leave him ��� but 100% does not like kids.

i also can see him fetishizes the FUCK out of lesbians (once again… this man is ICKY) and i definitely feel like if he was the type to get into a relationship with someone who is bisexual (or closeted lesbian. specifically if he coerces them) he would exploit the shit out of it. bro definitely has a premium subscription to ph. constantly doom scrolling to find something he hasn’t watched yet (specifically lesbians or threesomes (two girls, one guy) it’s definitely one of his biggest fantasies. he is soo gross ♡)

he would probably likes giving some naive, lightweight (never done drugs before) drugs that he knows they wouldn’t be able to handle just so he they can take advantage.

I AM GOING INSANEEEE. i am clawing and gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.

warnings: 18+, DARK content, dubcon, baby trapping

bro i am so sorry i haven't let this out to the public sooner, this is so good and factual fr 💔 like this guy is an misogynistic incel honestly, idfc what anyone else says, u literally can see it in the show how he treats se-mi. he's a meanie.

THE PH SUBSCRIPTION IS SO REAL. also, forces or not, makes u watch porn with him, the disgusting ones like heavy bondage/bdsm, prolly whilst sticking a wand vibrator on ur clit in a setting that's intense BUT wont make u cum so its pure torture..

guys has anyone done se-mi x reader x nam-gyu ? like hello? hello????? ITS RIGHT THERE prolly would watch u & se-mi whilst he's cucking himself. or he's right in the middle of the action, both ur pussies rubbing on his dick.

also, i love nam-gyu corruption kink, to someone whos absolutely clean, pure, law abiding citizen, prolly doesnt even know half of the kinks or stuff u see in pornhub, BUT THAT'S WHY NAM-GYU EXISTS!! to teach you allat, to corrupt u :^

i just dont feel like hes a good person at all, in smut mindset, and in fr the character, hes those toxic bfs who's only "strong" cuz u're just a lil bit weaker than him. and if u try to leave, nuh-uh, u can't, u wanted a child to begin with right?

"fuck you mean, 'i'm leaving you'? bitch please," he scolds, pumping another load inside- straight to your womb, "you wanna be a single mom?" you shake your head immediately, you were on birth control.. but maybe not... oh no! "then don't bullshit me with saying you're 'leaving me'... you know you love me." let's just hope he'll be a good dad... (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

if anyone needs a fluffy lovey namgyu smut this aint the place.. jk, i would prolly post one too heheh <3 also, now i wanna make a full on incel!nam-gyu x reader smut mannn

[nesslexis]

Thinking about taking your blue lock bf to your grandparents countryside village house. They are kind of awkward when they first enter the house because there is a lot A LOT of people there (it is how it is my family, everyone has like 4 kids...). Everyone is greeting you first obviously since most of them never met your bf before so he stands there by your side awkwardly like 🧍‍♂️until they greet your bf too. If he doesnt know your native language and your family greets him in that language he just nods at everything and smiles (he did dualingo on the way but he couldnt understand your family😔), if anyone knows English or their language hes so relieveddd,,, asks for them help and hes mostly around them if youre not near.

Everyone sits in the balcony in the evening drinking and eating desserts,, its chill until your uncles start to argue about that one property they cant share to save their bloodline. And the house looks like this..

Your boyfriend is kinda scared when they start to fight, sits next to you and clings you for his life,, and your just like "yeah it happends everytime they will be okay.."

Anyways when its the time for bed he suddenly needs to piss and asks you where the bathroom is,, and you tell him that the toilet is outside.. yes outside, it isnt in the house.. he doesnt want to go outside alone to piss in 1am so he drags you too. And makes you hold the light😔

Next day your "first day privilege" ends so you have to do chores. He insist on helping also wants to impress your family. Your boyfriend takes the cutting wood job a little too seriously,, he shows of in front everyone and wants to do it all himself (okay egoist). Carries all of the shopping bags to impress your grandma and aunts.

Of course we cant forget about that barbecue at the forest... they play football with your family and your family argues about which side your bf should play for (everyone wants a footballer in their team yk) he plays like hes on the finals of world cup to impress your family and it works.. he also gets well with the kids and entertains them with his skills maybe teach them a few moves.

Imagine your grandma hand feeding your boyfriend and he cant refuse at all so he eats everything she gives her😭

Hes so frustrated because he cannot kiss you as much as he does normally since there is always someone near you, you cant get an alone time during the day so he steals kisses from you the moment your family member turn their back. You would be going to the kitchen to get plates for the dinner and he traps you between his arms and the counter to make out with you before anyone notices that youve been gone for a long time🤧

[onbearfeet]

Grew up in that end of the culture, and I'd just like to add:

For a lot of American parents, it is SPECIFICALLY about having the legal right to hit their kids.

It's called "spanking" here, which sounds cutesy, but it actually encompasses everything from a swat on the ass (bare or otherwise) to a full-on beating. It's a big part of American culture, especially for anyone who was a kid before 1980 or so.

When I was growing up in the 90s, people talked about the CRC like it was an Orwellian monster, Big Brother coming to brainwash your children into communism. And the first thing people brought up, since it always got a loud reaction, was, "They wanna outlaw SPANKING! They think SPANKING is CHILD ABUSE!" Cue horrified, derisive laughter. After all, who would want to ban something as wholesome and all-American as spanking?

Well, as it turns out, hitting your kids is still bad for them even if you give it a cute name. It's also terrible parenting. I got spanked as a child, and I can't tell you what it was usually for because I don't remember a single one of my "crimes". I only remember being terrified and confused about why my parents seemingly went back to normal right afterward. I didn't learn a damn thing from it except that my father couldn't be trusted not to hurt me. And that's not a rare experience--studies bear it out as quite common.

If you're American and you'd like some reading on why spanking happens and is not, in fact, cool and normal ... or if you're NOT American and you're trying to understand why the fuck so many Americans make a religious ritual out of hitting their children ... I recommend Talia Lavin's essay series "Ministry of Violence", available in full here:

And in case it needs saying: don't hit your kids, or I'll send the bears after you. I know violence doesn't teach anyone anything, but bears are great at making sure nobody needs to learn any more lessons.

I cant believe this tweet is how I find out

[shortbcofkoffee]

CW: Cursing, child abuse via parentification

Bruce didn’t cry. He never cried. Bruce whined and sulked, but he never cried. Tim hated it when Bruce whined and sulked. He hated when Bruce acted like a kicked puppy because he had to take care of him. Tim thinks Alfred is happy he doesn’t have to do it anymore. Bruce is well into his 40s; he shouldn’t need this. Either way, Tim is closing Bruce’s bedroom door behind him and turning to the man in bed.

“Alfred wants you to come to dinner.” Tim sits on the foot of the bed, placing a hand on Bruce’s calf. The man is facing away from him, lying down but not pretending to sleep.

“I’m fine.”

Tim sucks his teeth and furrows his brow. “What’s wrong?”

Bruce shrugs and curls into himself. 

Tim purses his lips. “C’mon, chum. You can tell me.” Tim swallows and his stomach twists. He tells himself that it feels numb on his lips. He’d says he’s long past feeling gross, disgusted with himself, as he gently runs his thumb back and forth over Bruce’s calf. Bruce needs this, he reminds himself. He needs me.

“It’s nothing, I just-... It’s nothing.”

Tim frowned, Bruce wasn’t usually one to share but still. “Is it a case?” He knew Jason had mentioned one. Something about a seemingly normal family leaving their kid with the Falcones before the parents were murdered. It wasn’t the type of thing to stress Bruce out but it was the only one Tim could think of. Bruce didn’t answer. “Okay, well, you don’t need to tell me. But let's get some food in you, yeah?”

Bruce shifted but made no attempt to get up. Tim sighed.

“Alright, chum, I’ll bring dinner to you. Just wait here.” Tim patted his leg and stood up.

“Thanks, Dad,” Bruce said as Tim reached the door.

His eye twitched. “Anytime.”

When he steps out of the dark bedroom, he’s Brother Tim, the Tim the rest of the Waynes like. He makes his way to the dining room where everyone is filing in. Luckily it wasn’t everyone tonight. Just Tim, Dick, Cass, Jason, and Damian. They all sat at the table in their unofficial spots. Tim usually sat between Bruce and Dick with Cass right across from him. He eyed his seat, thinking maybe he could ask Alfred to bring the plate. He wanted to sit down and eat. Dick raised an eyebrow as Tim passed his chair.

“You’re not gonna sit down?”

Tim shook his head. “I will in a minute, Bruce isn’t coming down so I’m bringing him food.”

Jason scoffed. “Why do you need to bring it, ask Alfred.”

God, he wanted to. “Alfred does enough, I’ll do it.”

He could feel their eyes as he quickly moved past them to the kitchen. Alfred is there, garnishing a casserole. The Butler meets his eyes and frowns.

“I assume Master Bruce has elected to stay in his room?”

Tim nods. “I’m gonna fix him a plate.”

Tim thinks Alfred knows because Alfred somehow knows everything. Maybe he doesn’t know how far it’s gone, but he knows. He also needs Tim, but not for himself like everyone else. He needs Tim for Bruce. 

Alfred hums. “Master Timothy, please come here. I want to show you something.” Tim stepped closer, watching as Alfred cut a perfect square out of his casserole. “Master Bruce has a very particular way he likes to be served. You’d do well to memorize it. All foods must be separated by one-third of an inch, vegetables should be opposite the meat. He drinks milk right after his water, if he plans to sleep right after dinner crush two valium pills and mix it well into his milk. If they’re fully dissolved he won’t notice the difference.”

Tim nodded along. God, this was so final. He already knew most of this but Alfred never took the time to actually teach him. It took the butler less than a minute to finish Bruce’s plate, he placed it on a tray with two glasses of milk and water. He handed Tim the tray and sent him on his way.

Tim felt eyes on him again as he passed back through the dining room. There’s a pang of anxiety in his chest telling him they know, they know. He doesn’t know what he’d do if they did. They’d be disgusted, disgusted with Tim for going along with this for so long. They’d think he’s a freak, that somehow he enjoys this. Tim doesn’t know how he’d handle it. 

The walk to Bruce’s room was quiet, the whole manor was quiet. Tim had mixed feelings about long, quiet halls. It meant he was alone; either for the moment or months on end. It was lonely but there was a freedom in that emptiness. He didn’t have responsibilities, he could do whatever, whenever, however. No one was watching him, he didn’t need to be anyone. Tim took a deep breath in. As long as he was in this hallway, he’d be fine. Unfortunately, he was only a few yards from Bruce’s door.

He balanced the tray in one hand and opened the door with the other.

“I’m coming in, chum.”

Bruce turned over in his bed and sat up. “What did Alfred make?”

“Hamburger casserole, broccoli, and turmeric rice. If you want dessert, though, you’ll have to come downstairs.” Tim placed the tray on Bruce’s lap. “Spend time with your kids.”

Bruce stared blankly at his food. “What’s for dessert?”

“Tiramisu, I think. Your favorite.”

Bruce nodded and started to eat. 

Tim ruffled his hair, letting Bruce lean into his touch for a moment. It’s… a lot. “Come down when you’re ready.”

Tim was two steps from the door when Bruce spoke again.

“Wait. Dad…”

Tim turned around and shifted his weight onto one leg. “What’s up, bud?”

Bruce didn’t meet his eyes and poked the food. “Recently I was made aware of… a situation.”

“Uh-huh.” Tim walked back to the bed next to Bruce.

“Jason has let me know about a development in a cold case involving the Falcones.” So he was right. “There was a child involved. I found him, he’s… traumatized. He saw them kill his parents, he told me and I just- I… He doesn’t want to leave the Falcones. He told me he loved it there, they were nice to him. And I just left him. He wouldn’t come with me, he fought so much, I left him.” 

Tim pouted. “I’m sorry that happened, bud. You think you’ll go back for him?”

Bruce leaned onto Tim’s shoulder. “Jason said he’d deal with it. I just wish I did some more. I could’ve, I can, I just. It’d be encroaching on Jason’s territory. Where they’re keeping him. I should do something. I can.”

Tim wrapped an arm around Bruce’s shoulder and scratched his scalp. It felt weird, warm. Bruce had probably washed it earlier, poorly, but at least it was washed. “Yeah, Jason has been on edge with you hasn’t he?” Bruce nodded. “It’ll be alright, bud. Jason can handle this, and besides, this case could be a lot for you. I think you should sit this one out instead of beating yourself up about it.” Tim unwrapped his arm. “Okay?”

“Alright.”

“Good. I’m gonna go eat dinner, you can come down for dessert.”

Tim finally got away, slipping off the bed and out the door. When Tim steps outside the room again and walks a few feet before leaning against the wall. He pressed his forehead against the red wallpaper and placed a hand over his stomach. He doesn’t want to touch anyone ever again. His stomach is churning with that familiar weird feeling. It’d go away soon, a few minutes to a few days, but it’d go away. This wasn’t weird. This isn’t- Bruce needs this, he needs this. As long as Bruce needed him, Tim would be there. He couldn’t just abandon Bruce. His hand gripped his shirt and he took a deep breath. He was okay. Tim stood up straight and walked back to the dining room.

He slid back into his seat next to Dick and Bruce’s empty chair. Alfred already put his plate out, just how he liked. Tim looked around the table at the subtle differences on the other’s plates. He wondered if they noticed and if this would be his life from now on, learning the specific ways he needed to care for everyone. If it’s like that he’s happy only Bruce needs him. He was prepared for a few questions, it’d be weird if he didn’t get any. Bruce’s kids would be worried about him even if they hated to admit it.

“You’ve been fussing over the old man a bit much lately,” Jason started.

“I guess,” Tim shrugged as he began to eat. Had it been more than usual lately? It felt a little less frequent. 

“Is he okay?” Dick asked.

Tim frowned. “He’s upset about a case.” He nodded at Jason. “One of yours, actually. About the kid with the Falcones. He’s eating himself up because he wants to help the kid but he doesn’t want to piss you off. I told him you could handle it.”

“Thank God,” Jason huffed. “That asshole keeps straining my alliances every time he steps foot in the alley.”

“How old is the kid? We don’t need him trying to take another kid in,” Dick joked.

That seemed to satisfy the table as they all went back to eating and their individual conversations. Mainly small talk and meaningless arguments, Tim wanted to contribute but he still felt weird. He felt awful. The food didn't settle the churning in his stomach, unfortunately, the feeling was here to stay. Begrudgingly, his thoughts wandered back to Bruce. What would he need next? When? He could feel the man’s hair on his hand still. It was warm and a little greasy from product that hadn't been washed out. Tim roughly swallowed. He didn't like this feeling. He should be grateful, if it wasn't for this he wouldn't be needed here. Of course, he was CEO of Wayne Enterprises but his professional relationships weren't fulfilling enough to replace personal ones. He needed Bruce to feel useful. Bruce needed him to feel better. It wasn’t weird. It wasn’t disgusting. Tim was okay with it.

He didn't want to finish his dinner. He didn't want to be here when Bruce came down for dessert. Oh God, he’ll probably have to put him to bed if he’s still upset after dinner. He stood with his only half-empty plate and started to the kitchen. Cass grabbed the back of his shirt and tapped him twice, asking where he was going.

“Ah, I'm done eating. Wasn’t too hungry anyway.”

Cass frowned but waved him off but Dick stopped him too. 

“Hold on, Timmy, dude, you barely ate.”

“I'm not hungry,” he reiterated. “And besides, I have a meeting with some shareholders tomorrow, I need to prepare.” A lie so quick it surprised even him. “Do you want my food?”

Before Dick could answer Damian slammed a hand on the table. “Drake! Give me your vegetables!”

Tim quickly dumped his food on Damian's plate and walked to the kitchen. Alfred was still there, preparing dessert, and to Tim’s luck, it was actually Tiramisu. So now he didn’t accidentally lie to Bruce. 

“Should I throw this out or keep the leftovers?” He asked Alfred.

The old man looked between him and the plate a few times. “You only ate one thing.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Just place it on the counter, I’ll deal with it.”

Tim muttered a thanks as he did and left. Unfortunately, always unfortunate for Tim Drake-Wayne, Bruce was there. Smiling at his kids, carrying his tray to the kitchen. Tim didn’t have to look closely at Bruce anymore. Every line crinkle was there whether he liked it or not. He could read Bruce’s face better than anyone he knew and he hated it. Bruce’s smile faltered a little when he was Tim but no one seemed to notice. It wasn’t weird , he reminded himself. He brushed past Tim with a “hey.” The interaction was short and impersonal but it didn’t make the feeling go away. Tim left the dining room. Bruce would probably go to the cave tonight, to look over whatever he’s working on. By tomorrow morning only Dick would be back in Bludhaven and Cass and Jason would be back at their apartments. Tim hoped he wouldn’t have to scold Bruce for staying up too late. 

Tim’s lungs felt light like the air was barely tickling them. He wanted to sleep, he’d set an alarm for three and if Bruce was still up he’d drag him to bed. Soon enough he was in a quiet hallway again. Just alone with no one watching. He jumped as high as possible, fingers barely touching the high ceiling. Tim liked being alone for these small bits of time when he felt like this. It gave him just a little release when he did little things with no one else around. He jumped again. He wants to go on patrol. He wants to jump from building to building and breathe in the night air. He should do it soon, tomorrow maybe.

Tim reached his room, set his alarm for three, and let himself relax into his pillow. Bruce has been better lately, this case was gonna be a huge setback, especially if it involved Jason. Tim hated to say it because it wasn’t true but every problem he had with Bruce was because of Jason. Tim knew it wasn’t fair to blame him, he had no stake in how Bruce would mourn him, but if he never died in the first place… That was so unfair. It made Tim feel disgusting for even thinking that. Bruce wasn’t entirely to blame either, no one is how they mourn. Tim took the role of caretaker quickly and easily, it was a lot, especially for a thirteen-year-old, but Tim could take it. Tim could take everything. He did and will.

Tim didn't know when he fell asleep or if he had a dream but the alarm clock on his bedside table was screaming. Tim groggily rolled over and hit it off. If Bruce wasn't in the cave Tim could go back to sleep sooner. If he was, Tim would have to drag him to bed. Bruce needed as much sleep as possible, the holidays were coming up and that always put Batman on overtime. Tim got out of bed and dragged himself over to Bruce’s room, but of course, he wasn't there. Tim groaned, dragging a hand down his face. He found his way down to the cave and followed the sound of typing to the Batcomputer. 

“It's late.” Tim came up behind Bruce.

“I'm working.”

“And you'll have time to work tomorrow. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you wake up.” He put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “C'mon let's get you to bed.” 

Bruce made no effort to move and Tim leaned on his shoulder. 

“I’ll go to bed soon.”

Tim pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Listen, bud, I’m not going to sleep until you do. And I’m tired.”

“No one is asking you to do that.”

“I know you’re tired too. You’re not at your best when you’re tired, you could slip up and miss something.”

“I won’t. I slept yesterday, I’ll be fine.”

Fair, Bruce could easily stay awake for three to four days without shutting down. Unfortunately, with the aforementioned holidays, sleep would be few and far between. “Yeah, well I’m not asking. We’re going to bed.” Tim looked up at the screen. “What are you even working on?”

“I told you. The case with the Falcone kid. I haven’t updated the report yet.”

“I thought I told you to let Jason deal with it.”

“I can help.”

“He doesn’t want your help.” 

Bruce paused his typing for a moment before resuming. “Did he tell you that?”

“I told him that I told you to let him deal with it. He didn’t thank me but he was appreciative.” Tim pulled away from Bruce’s shoulder making the man twitch. “Besides, I don’t want you working this case. It won’t be good for you.”

Bruce just grunted, an unintelligible one that meant he was acknowledging but ultimately ignoring you. It’s like a toddler throwing a quiet tantrum.

“You know I’m right. C’mon, chum, let’s go to bed,” he tried again. The man didn’t answer. “Okay?” He said with more force. Bruce silently saved the report he was working on and logged off. “Thank you. See that wasn’t so hard.”

“Sorry, Dad,” Bruce grumbled. 

“Mm-hm.” Tim held out a hand and pulled Bruce from his chair.

Bruce held onto his hand as they started to walk, he seemed like he needed it. He didn’t let go until they were halfway to his room. Bruce, for someone who craved it so much, hated physical affection. He only accepted it from certain people. Alfred was one since he raised him practically by himself. His kids, obviously, he’d never turn down a hug from one of them, he actually hoped for it. Though Tim had never personally seen it, according to others Bruce didn’t seem to mind being touched by Clark Kent. Lastly, there was Tim. Tim was the only person Bruce reached out to first for affection. Usually just a hand on his shoulder or arm but sometimes Bruce wanted a hug or a hand to hold. It was always over quicker than it happened when Bruce acted first. 

Once he got Bruce to his room it was 3:14. He could still get a good amount of sleep and still be good in the morning. He yawned as he walked the dark halls back to his room. Sleep would be good, Bruce was exhausting. TIm just wanted to melt into his pillow and disappear forever. Tim jumped, almost yelped as he turned a corner and came face to face with a mop of white and black hair. Jason stared at him quietlywith his jaw locked in anger. Neither of them spoke but Jason nodded in the direction of the library. Jason was here, why was he here? Tim hadn’t noticed him come in so it must’ve been when he was dealing with Bruce. 

Oh, God, had he seen him with Bruce? The seeing wasn’t the hard part Tim knew how to lie and deflect. He could say that he asked Bruce to hold hands. It wouldn’t explain why it looked like he was guiding Bruce but it was a start. The hearing was the bad part. If Jason had heard the end of their conversation Tim doesn’t know. An inside joke maybe? That was the only thing Tim could think of at the moment. He bit his lip nervously. The disgusting feeling was back. His hands and feet felt heavy. Tim was tired, he just wanted to sleep.

“Why are you here?” He asked nervously.

“Left my commlink in the cave. Came back to get it,” Jason said.

“Ah.”

So he was in the cave. When they entered the library Jason sat down in one of the lounge chairs and motioned for Tim to sit across from him.

“The fuck was that?” Jason started.

“What was what?”

Jason leaned forward and sighed. “Okay. Are you… okay?” He asked through gritted teeth.

The question felt weird coming from Jason. “Fine. Why?”

“I heard you talking to Bruce.”

Tim is pretty sure all the color left in his face drains. He’s pretty sure Jason noticed it too. “Oh.”

“So are you okay?”

Tim pinched his fingertip with the opposite hand. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just- just forget what you heard, okay? It’s nothing weird, just an inside joke, y’know?” Tim feels a little stupid for deflecting immediately. He could’ve played it off better, but the mental exhaustion was getting to him.

“It didn’t sound like a joke.”

Tim pinched harder, sinking his nails into his skin. “Then you misread the situation.”

Jason leaned back, splaying his arms over the back of the chair. “Alright humor me. What’s the joke then.”

“If I explained it it wouldn’t be very “inside” anymore. It’s private.”

“Kay, so how long have you and him had this private “joke.””

Tim grimaced. “Don’t make it weird.”

“I’m not. Just answer.”

Tim scoffed. “Why do you care? It’s a joke me and Bruce have, that’s it.”

“Why do I-?! Why do I care?! You know I kill abusers?”

Tim took a deep breath in and rolled his eyes. “Don’t call it abuse just because you think it’s weird. I get it, you don’t buy the joke thing but that’s all it is.”

Jason was quiet for a moment before his eyes widened. “Oh my God, is that why he listens to you? Because you have this dad thing going on?”

Tim’s stomach churned. God, he wanted to throw up. He wanted to run away and hide under his cover until this was all over. “Nothing’s going on, leave it alone.”

“Listen, I’m trying to help you.”

Jason? Help Tim? When he was the reason for this in the first place? Tim couldn’t help but smile at the irony. “Yeah right. I don’t need any help, it’s fine. If it makes you feel better, I started it, not Bruce.”

“So, what, you started calling Bruce “ chum” and shit.” Tim almost gagged. “And he just went along with it?”

“It’s complicated, okay? Bruce needs someone to deal with him.”

“Why not Alfred? That’s literally his job.”

“It’s different-”

“Is it? Alfred’s practically raised him and I don’t see Bruce calling him dad.”

“It’s different,” Tim repeated. “You weren’t there, you don’t know.”

“Okay then explain it. I’ve got all night.”

Tim clenched his jaw and glared at Jason. “I’m going to bed.” He started to stand but a throwing knife stuck into the bookshelf behind him, barely missing his head.

“Sit. Explain.”

Tim sat back down. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

“When did this start?”

“Four or five years ago.”

Jason hummed. “That’s what you meant by I wasn’t there. Alright then, why is he calling you dad?”

That one was loaded. Tim wasn’t a psychic, he couldn’t read Bruce’s mind. He only had his best guess. “He likes to be parented. Talking to him like he’s a teenager sometimes helps when you need him to do something. Like shower or eat.”

“So… you act like his dad because he’s an overgrown teenager.”

“No. He only acts like that when he’s depressed, or stressed, or wasted.”

“Bruce doesn’t drink.”

“Not when you guys are around. He used to drink himself stupid after you died. That’s also why it’s me and not Alfred. Alfred was grieving too, Bruce wasn’t something he needed to deal with.” 

“So you took Alfred’s place.”

“Only when he needed it.”

“But it never stopped. You’re still doing this weird shit just to make him feel better.”

“He still needs me. I can’t abandon him.” Tim shifted uncomfortably.

“Tim, you’re 17, Bruce isn’t your responsibility.”

“He is. I need to take care of him. You don’t understand, you don’t get how bad he needs me.”

“You’re right, I don’t. He’s grown, he doesn’t need you.”

“Well he does, okay? And I’ll do it until he stops needing me.”

“Do you think of him as your son?”

Tim was silent. He didn’t like to, it made him feel gross to say it so he’d never actually verbalized it before. “It… can make it easier.”

Jason shook his head. “I don’t get you. Both of you know how fucked up this is, you kept it a secret this whole time. You’re clearly feeling shitty about it, you just never said anything. He’s not threatening you, is he?”

“He’s not threatening me, I just… He needs me. That’s all there is to it.” Tim was tired. He wanted to go to bed. “We didn’t tell anyone because we knew you would react like this. You’d think it was weird.”

“It is.”

“You’re not even making an effort to understand. You don’t get it.”

“Oh, believe me, I get it. I get all there is to get. Tim, I’m sure you know this, but I don’t like you. I think you’re a stain and you never should’ve been Robin. But I’m on your side, I’m trying to help you . Because I’m supposed to protect people like you.”

“I’m not a victim, Red Hood, I’m telling you, I’m just taking care of him.”

“You don’t need to.”

“We’re talking in circles. It’s fine if you don’t get it, just don’t tell anyone and keep it alone. Me and Bruce are fine, this has worked for years. If I left Bruce wouldn’t be able to pick himself up again. I can take care of him as long as he needs me.”

“Do you want to?”

Tim rubbed his arm. He didn’t, he liked feeling needed but he didn’t want to do this. But that’s how it was, it was how Bruce needed him. Since he couldn’t, he wouldn’t change a thing. “Yeah.” He felt disgusting.

Jason raised his hands in surrender. “Then I’ll leave it alone. But if I find out something I don’t like, I’ll act. Trust me, I will.”

Tim finally pushed himself out of the chair. “Thank you. I’m going to bed, it’s late.”

Jason stayed behind in the library leaving Tim alone in the long dark hallway. He was alone again, he exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding before his chest sank again. Oh God, someone knew. Jason knew, probably the last person Tim wanted to know. Jason had called Bruce an abuser and threatened to kill him. That’s the last thing Tim needed. He wanted to sleep, he should sleep.

.

Read the rest here and read the fic that inspired it here

[stacygetsit]

What about the ring? It was on full display in her recent video about the SAG awards. I feel like if they really want to squelch the shipping then Nic would remove the ring? That’s what’s keeping me on the ship among other things. She moved it from “in a relationship” on her right hand to “engaged or married” on her left hand in October. If the ring does not signify a relationship with Luke then it is either just a nice piece of jewelry she likes to wear or there is someone else? Which makes no sense to me. They give us crumbs/clues then do things to make us question everything. It’s a bit annoying. Lots of games.

hey Anon,

I wanna teach you something that I do a lot when I'm confused or I'm upset with someone I have this really good habit of putting myself into their shoes. So let's put ourselves into Luke or Nic shoes. You just landed this huge role after struggling for years. Your season comes up. You know that it's your time to shine. You know that this is a make it or break it moment in your career. So you put everything you have into these scenes. You give your best performance you've ever given in your life and you're doing it with one of your closest people that you cherish. Then you go on the world tour and you are touring with your best friend somebody that you love with all your heart. But that's another six months of your life that you've given to this role. You don't see your family you don't see your friends. You don't take a vacation. You have lived for your job but you do it because it's something that you love. Now you start feeling things for your costar. And you're getting all of this new attention from all these fans and you're very unsure on how to handle it. What do I do? Do I give in and tell them everything do I pull back and not tell them a thing? What's the correct amount of information that I should give? So as you're trying to figure out this newfound attention from thousands of fans you're also trying to understand what's going on in your personal life. You have to remember you you put on hold all these other relationships in your life relationship you put in your life. You haven't seen your family. You haven't seen your friends. And these were the people that were there for you when you had nothing. But remember you fell in love. You feel things for this for your costar that you've never felt before and you don't understand what those feelings are you're being told by professionals that It might be your characters feelings. And that you should take time apart, so you attempt to do that you bring one of your friends with you to the premiere. And then you get blasted by by everyone and they were ruthless. So you pull back you don't go online as much, you don't post as much. But you're still in love. You're still trying to understand your feelings. You take some vacations. You put some distance between you like the professionals have said. But you realize that you're in love and you're happy. Now your instant reaction as you wanna tell the world. You wanna scream from the mountain tops how much they mean to you. But then you have fans showing up at your hotel rooms. Peeking in your home windows, tearing apart every single little thing that you do. Then you realize as much as you love your fans you just want the privacy to figure out what you're feeling. You want to take a little bit of your life back because you realize that the more you give the more people want. So you got this new relationship and you wanna protect it. You have already experienced people tearing you apart and you don't want people to tear your person that you're in love with apart. But your still have those same feelings of wanting to shout it to the world. And then you realize that the more you talk, the more things slip your love for this other person is so big that it just comes out without you even realizing it. This is where they're at in my opinion. They have this newfound fame. They're in love and they don't know how to deal with it. This world, even though they were both known this world is very much new to them the amount of fame Nicola has is new. People followed her to the grocery store guys. She went to her local pub and got pap. Luke can't even go into a hotel without being pap. They have to be in disguise or stay home. So in my opinion I don't think they're playing games and the ring does matter. I think they're trying to figure it out and I feel as a fan we should give them a little grace. They're trying to decide how much to give us, and if the cost they have to pay is worth it.

note: we also have to keep in mind that they have a team of people that are telling them what to do. They're getting opinions from their friends. They're getting opinions from their family. They're getting opinions from their teams and then there's what they actually wanna do. It's hard to navigate all of that.

[honourablejester]

So it's not that authors consciously believe that crusades were good - they just took all the 18th-19th century glorifying poetry and applied it to a fictional world, or maybe just took the mythology of a just war of absolute good versus absolute evil. Or maybe they want to play a wilderness campaign with added chivalric theme and that's the first framing they thought about.

It doesn't matter. What matters is that sometimes we get works that glorify fictional crusaders, through this glorify real crusaders and then help fash to mask their intentions. It's also not like a crime in itself - nobody is going to jail for accidentally writing a work about noble knights waging a war against some absolute evil in a way that resembles crusades. But it has to be avoided and dealt with when created.

But what does that mean? ‘It has to be avoided and dealt with when created’. Do you genuinely mean just not portray crusades, holy wars, good vs evil, at all? Because otherwise what do you mean ‘avoid and deal with’ it?

Because people will use literally anything to forward their cause, no matter the intent of its authors or the internal resemblance to said cause. There are rabid nationalists who use Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Born in the USA’ as a rallying cry despite the fact that any clear-headed listen to the song would show that it’s very much not that. So is the answer here that no one play that song again? That he shouldn’t have written it in the first place?

I don’t think that censorship, or self-censorship in anticipation of potential reactions, is the answer to defeating propaganda. I don’t think that we can or should just make whole areas of history or means of expression taboo to try and avoid them being co-opted. Because all that means is that no one ever learns about or questions those areas of history. Or questions themselves about those areas of history.

The crusades were a massively complicated, centuries long period of history involving several cultures, religions, and a whole host of varied motivations among every side involved, with the end result of centuries of warfare. There were ‘good’ and ‘evil’ people on all sides. There was false piety and genuine belief, there was rampant opportunism, there was raw imperialistic greed disguised as moral piety. Different crusades had different causes and different results, were enacted by different players. It was complicated, and fascinating, and educational, and it deserves to be examined, from any number of angles.

A piece of work going ‘if the thing they said they believed was happening, that a force of evil was attacking something precious, was what was happening, would it have justified what they did?’ and then taking the time to play that out and entertain nuance and come to various conclusions, that work is more valuable to me than …

I mean, what’s the alternative? No work at all? Nobody ever questioning the fascist portrayal of events?

The burden is on the audience to examine what the work says, what the work thinks it says, what other people are saying about the work, and, on the balance of evidence, who the audience then thinks is right, if anyone is, and to what extent. You don’t defeat propaganda by telling people not to look at things. You defeat propaganda by telling people to think about everything they look at. The fascists can ‘claim’ whatever the fuck they want. That doesn’t mean it actually belongs to them.

Yes, certain topics are going to attract more nazis. And yes, that means people who want to explore those topics for other reasons need to be on the look out for said nazis. But it doesn’t mean that that topic should never be mentioned again. Because that lets them claim it. Lets their stories be the only stories about it.

Generalisations do not help. Taboos do not help. Censorship does not help.

Let people write whatever the fuck they want. In whatever cause they want. And then just question all of it. And teach other people to question all of it.

kind of concerning how married the fantasy genre is to "crusades as a basically good thing"

[alpaca-clouds]

"Why didn't I learn this in history class?"

Lemme talk about something a bit more serious today. Because ever since I started to ramble once more about historical context for Castlevania Nocturne I have gotten asked this one so often:

"Why did I not learn this in school?" Or: "Why did I not learn this in history class?"

And I shall tell you why: Because school sucks.

I do not mean this in some exaggerated way or hyperbolic way or anything. School sucks. And you do not go to school to learn anything useful, you go to school for two reasons: a) So that you are out of the hairs of your parents and they can be exploited at their work place. b) So that you learn to listen to authority from a young age on and get some basic skills that you will ideally be able to leverage for your own exploitation.

I am sorry for sounding so darn Marxist right now, but that it is it.

And here is the thing: Because the entire school system is build towards exploitation, nobody actually wants you to learn about actual history. It could give you ideas, and that would be very tragic, wouldn't it?

Depending on the country you live in, history class mainly is concerned with two things. Teach you a bit about the bad stuff, and then also get some nice patriotic propaganda into your head. The latter stuff is especially strong in the US. I mean, pretty much every kid learns some variation of the entire darn "thanksgiving" bullshit. I just will leave you with the Adam's Family Values scene about this.

I mean, this is especially noticable right now of course, where everyone is crying about kids maybe learning just a little bit of real history in school - and so many people trying to forbid it.

In Germany, our history class basically goes like this: We note everything that has happened until 1900 in about three hours, only doing a very, very rough overview, and then we will talk about the Weimar Republic, First World War, Third Reich and Second World War at nauseum. Which could be good, if we actually talked about how the Nazis came into power. But if you ever talk with any random German who has not studied history, you will notice that most of them are of the opinion that the Nazi party was not elected in the popular vote, and that at least 40% of all people in the Third Reich were in fact against Hitler. Both of those things are not true. Nazis were elected - and they used some trickery to stay in power - and more than 90% of Germans were in full support of Hitler.

And the French Revolution? Obviously you will not learn about that. It might give you ideas. You know. Ideas what to do with unelected people who rule your country. And if you learn about the French Revolution, you might see how there are certain parallels to modern times.

You see, those who do not learn from history, are fated to repeat it.

Which kinda brings me to the even more radical part of this. You know what you can do to really fucking annoy those in power? You can learn about history. And you can teach others about history.

They will often tell you, that history is not as important as STEM. And in some way, sure: History will not cure cancer, and it will only do so much to help with climate change. But... It will teach you about how to recognize tyranny. And how to fight it. And frankly, under tyranny you will most likely not get cured of the cancer, let alone climate change. So yeah, tyranny - and getting rid of it - is important.

And, how did a wise man once say?

[spideyanakin]

Hiiiii its me again 🤭

I keep rereading the part where reader tells sirius their son name. Sirius smiles and it got me thinking of them being kids choosing names for their future kids. Like they are looking over the stars and they like the name Perseus Sirius Black. Oh the agsnt and tears 😩

THE WAY THIS ASK HAS A CHOCK-HOLD ON ME!!!

Thank you darling for those gorgeous requests 🩵

all I think about now - masterlist

summary - sirius black x malfoy + slytherin! reader, you watch the stars with sirius

warnings - mention of extremely minor character death lmao

The grass was high this year, enough to reach your knees when you walked and engulf you whole as you laid in it.

You weren’t sure if it was a deliberate choice from your parents, or if it was because the muggle gardener had been eaten by those magical plants your mother had asked to be planted last autumn.

Sirius was sure it was the latter, because gardeners, especially wizard ones were hard to find these days: he didn’t know if it was true, that’s just what he heard his parents say anyways.

"Well, you don’t have a garden, do you?" You had mumbled as your gaze lifted up to the night sky, pushing some rogue grass blade away so you could get a better view of Sirius lying by your side.

"No," he sighed, "but Kreature keeps the rooftop and balconies nice. I think my father is growing a mandrake up there, not sure why, but Kreature keeps complaining." The sudden thought of the Black household elf repotting a mandrake was making you laugh, and Sirius joined in your giggles, adding wood to the fire, "he keeps muttering insults every time the thing grows! My father says he is the only one who should do it because house elves are immune to their screams or something.”

"Poor Kreature," you giggled.

"Hm," Sirius didn’t seem convinced by the use of the word poor to describe his house elf. Although he did everything his parents didn’t wish to do, he was almost treated like a third child by his mother. Which meant that Kreature heard all her gossiping and complaining when she talked about him, and the elf did not hesitate to voice the same views on Sirius’s chaotic antics whenever the two of them dared to cross paths.

It also meant, the elf didn’t care as much for Sirius as he did for his brother, and saw great pleasure in sabotaging him. He saw it in the little things, like adding extra salt into Sirius’s plate, or folding one of his shirts not yet dry, or not quite ironed perfectly like his mother liked.

Imagine Walburga’s face when Sirius arrived at dinner with wrinkles on his shirt, and of course, he was obviously the cause of it because, this shirt had just been freshly ironed, or was it?

"You know how to read the stars, do you not?" Your soft voice broke his reminiscing, and he found himself looking at you, adoration filling his bright eyes.

"I do!" He smiled brightly, and you found yourself blushing at his enthusiasm.

"Will you teach me? I need to know them if we are to be married, do I not?"

"I guess so," his smile turned shy as you scooted closer to him, heads lying barely inches apart.

From so close you could see the clouds in his beautiful grey eyes, and the faint freckles from the freshly arrived summer sun that kissed his nose. His hair smelled nice, you noticed. Like fresh jasmine and eucalyptus.

After seconds that felt like minutes of staring, his gaze broke with yours and climbed up to the sky, his hand pointing towards his star, Sirius, as if on instinct.

"You see that bright one. That’s mine."

"The really bright one amidst the two little ones?"

"Yes!" He exclaimed happily, "and with these, it’s the Canis Major constellation." You nodded with a smile as you spotted all the stars he was pointing too. He pointed further down the sky, "now look up, straight from my star, you see these three little stars that align?"

"Yeah."

"That’s Orion’s Belt, and the few stars around it creates the full constellation. You can see his bow right there."

He watched you struggle to spot it, brows furrowing as you attempted to find the shapes in the stars.

"Here," Sirius scooted closer to you, taking your hand in his to point at the stars, skin burning where he was touching you. "These little ones are the bow, and this one is his head."

"Oh, I see it! This is the one your father is named after?"

"Yes," he smiled brightly at the proud sparks in your eyes. "Now if you go up right there, directly from my star, there is Regulus."

"The bright one?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "Reg’s the star leading to one of the paws, you can easily see the lion shape."

"Oh! I do see it!"

"You’re doing amazing, took me hours to find it the first time."

"Thank you, but you are the one who is a great teacher,” you blushed.

"What else do you want to know?"

There was a quiet silence, almost shy before you looked back to his stormy eyes, shining in the moonlight.

"What will we name our children?" your voice was quiet.

Sirius’s eyes widened, his heart racing to his ear as he watched the shy smile on your features. Suddenly, a large grin rose upon his lips, and he managed to keep his own blush at bay.

"Well, do you have any star names that you like?"

"I asked you first! Do not cheat!" You awkwardly giggled. "Do not tell me you have not thought about it."

“I have," he smiled, and your gaze lingered for a second more before his signature grin took over again and he stared back at the stars. "I always loved the name Rigel, but I hate the fact that it’s Orion’s foot." That got a new laugh out of you.

"I agree, it is a no for Rigel then."

"My mother loves Cassiopeia," he shook his head, a scowl forming on his features. "That's what she would have named us if either Regulus or I had been a girl," you watched him think, "but her story is ghastly."

"I remember reading about her." Your tone spoke for itself.

"Yeah," Sirius nodded. "I like Ara better for a girl."

"Ara,” you smiled, "that is beautiful, Sirius."

"I know right?" He mirrored your smile as the two of you locked gazes again. "Brought victory and luck to the gods, a name meant for someone great."

"I love it."

You don’t know how long you spent, staring at each other, grinning with smiles full of love and admiration for the life you were yet to live. A life where Sirius had been gifted to you.

You let yourself imagine what Ara would look like. Dark curls, with his fine nose, and if you were lucky, she would have his stormy eyes that you could spend hours diving into.

You whispered into the silence, "and for a boy? If not Rigel."

"My parents would love Arcturus, after my grandfather, but I hate it."

"I hate it too," you scrunched your nose. "No offense to your grandfather, bless his soul, or to your brother."

"None taken, my brother despises the name more than anyone."

"What do you have in mind then?"

He smiled so brightly it gave your head a spin. Your stomach fluttered at the look in his eyes, he lifted his upper body from his place in the grass and rested on his elbows.

"Do you see these few stars, the ones that look like a w," he pointed somewhere in the sky, you rose too, leaning against him, but you couldn't seem to find it.

"Here," he took your arm again, black curls brushing against your cheek as he gently took your hand. "These ones."

"Yes," you whispered, heat rising to your cheeks at the closeness of it all.

"That is Cassiopea, look right underneath it, right above the skyline. That long line of stars, with the one in the middle."

"Yes, I see it."

Your breath caught in your throat when he leaned even closer, almost whispering as he explained, "That is Perseus. Hero of the sky. He saved Andromeda, did things no one thought possible."

All words died in the back of your throat as the two of you stayed, watching the constellation without making a move to change position. Your heart was beating loudly against your chest and you feared he could hear it.

Finally, you felt him smile. You looked to the side to see him already looking at you. He pressed an awkward kiss to your forehead before coming back to lay on his back.

"Perseus Sirius Black, it sounds nice," you smiled as you followed his movements to lay by his side.

"As beautiful as Ara Y/n Black," you smiled at the name falling from his lips. "Goes well together don't they?" He noticed, "Ara and Perseus Black."

"Yeah."

"Cannot wait to meet them."

[nameless-jamie]

TARTT'S CORNER - Jamie Tartt x Y/N

Masterlist - Next Chapter

Chapter 10: Jealousy, Jealousy

TW: swearing, jealousy

A/N: sorry I hate Y/N in this game chapter, but it's important cause she needs an attitude adjustment.

The late afternoon sun bore down on the training grounds of AFC Richmond, casting long shadows over the neatly trimmed grass. Normally, practice was a mix of sharp drills and easy banter, but today, an unmistakable tension crackled in the air—specifically around Jamie Tartt. His movements were sluggish, his passes off, and when he attempted a shot on goal, the ball sailed embarrassingly wide.

"Fucking hell, Tartt!" Roy Kent’s voice cut through the air, laced with irritation. "Are you playin’ or tryin’ to teach the ball how to fuck off in the wrong direction?"

Jamie exhaled sharply, hands on his hips, sweat dripping from his brow. "M’fine," he muttered, rolling his shoulders as if that would shake off whatever had sunk its teeth into him.

Roy wasn’t convinced. Not even a little. He narrowed his eyes and, after practice wrapped up, pulled Jamie aside into the boot room.

"Ew, what are we doin' in here Roy. You tryin' to kill me by suffocation?"

Roy rolled his eyes at this dumb twat, former-prick he called his "friend".

"What the fuck is wrong with you? You've been playing like a little bitch."

Jamie groaned, running a hand through his damp hair. "Nothin’—just a shit day, okay?"

"Bullshit," Roy shot back immediately. "Your game’s been off for days, and I know when a player’s distracted by something stupid. And I’m bettin’ it’s got somethin’ to do with Y/N again. God, why the fuck can't you guys just get your shit together, fuck and get it over with."

Jamie tensed. "We did that actually..." Roy had to fake a shocked look at that. He couldn't possibly tell Jamie that his not-yet-lover already told him everything about that during brunch. In detail. Too much detail... "When I took these sick days last week, I went to Manchester because I've been like heartbroken an' stuff. Keeley was worried and paid me a visit at me mum's house. She told me to just be Y/N's friend, nothin' more. Said it’s better this way, and that'll settle everything between us."

Roy’s face twisted into a look of utter disdain. He knew Keeley visited Jamie to talk sense into him, he knew all about that obviously. It was his plan after all. But telling Jamie that he should friend zone Y/N. That wasn't the plan. To Roy, the plan was "Get them together, so they can be happy and finally shut the fuck up!" not cause more drama and make to people that have the hots for each other be friends!

"And you fuckin’ listened to her?"

Jamie scowled. "I told Y/N how I felt, Roy! I poured me fuckin' heart out and she just fuckin' left and then acted like nothin' happened during that damn podcast. Then I thought I got me shit together and took Keeley's advice, so I told Y/N we're just friends now. Told her I understood her worries about us and that I'm such an 'understanding guy'. But I'm not, I'm a fuckin' selfish prick. Because the day after I told her I thought: Fuck friendship. I want to kiss her, everyday mate. You feel meh?"

"And what the fuck is stopping you, you twat?" Roy rolled his eyes, the situation was migraine-inducing to him. He knew they both love each other, but they just can't seem to figure it out, fucking idiots!

"Nah, she wants to be friends now too. Acting like we're mates and shit. Yesterday she asked me when I would be ready for another podcast recordin', Roy. She texted me a fuckin' yellow heart. A YELLOW HEART, ROY! She's stuck on that friendship thing. I ruined it. Train’s already left the fuckin’ station."

Roy exhaled heavily through his nose, crossing his arms. He knew that Y/N is just playing along with Jamie's friendship request because she is too scared to confess to him. Too scared of total rejection. Coward.

"That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. And I’ve listened to Keeley try to explain the plot of Love Island to me. How the fuck do you even send hearts on your phone?"

"It's an Emoji, the heart's an Emoji. You don't know how to send Emoji's granddad?" Jamie let out a dry laugh, but Roy wasn’t done.

"Listen. Y/N’s not stuck anywhere, Jamie. She’s just bein’ a stubborn idiot. And so are you. I know her well enough, to know that she wants more than friendship with you. For whatever reason... So, you want her to stop pretending she don’t want you? Make her realize what she’s about to lose if she doesn't make a move."

Jamie frowned. "And how the fuck am I supposed to do that?"

Roy’s lips quirked upward into the closest thing he had to a smirk. "Like I said show her what she could be missing. Like in fucking chess. Force her to make the next move. Make her jealous for all I care. You have to tickle the feelings out of her."

Jamie blinked. "You want me to play chess with her—"

"Fuuuuck, ok I forgot that you're a fucking idiot for a second." Roy had to take a breather for a second, a plan developed inside his brain

"Ok, here's how you're going to do it right: There's this dumb Richmond event tomorrow, where we'll have to mingle with the fucking sponsors of the team, yeah? Keeley told me she invited Y/N to join her. Simple, you take a date to that event," Roy explained. "Make it someone proper fit. Someone who makes Y/N’s eye twitch just lookin’ at her. Show Y/N what it feels like to sit on the other side of the fence. If Y/N wants something really bad, she'll take it. Even if it's you, in this case."

Jamie considered it, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "And you think that’ll work?"

Roy palmed his face at that. "Tartt, she already fuckin’ likes you. She just don’t wanna admit it. You get under her skin and force her to deal with it. You want her or not?"

A slow grin spread across Jamie’s face. "Alright. Let’s make her jealous as fuck."

"Ok. Now tell me what an Emoji is and how I text one..."

The venue of said event was nothing short of dazzling, with warm golden lights twinkling above the elegantly decorated ballroom. The event was actually meant to celebrate AFC Richmond’s achievements for the season, to the players and coaches it was more of a 'kissing-up to our sponsors' kind of event. That's why most of them dreaded it, especially Roy Kent, anti-sociality in person. But this time it would be different, entertaining even. This time Roy could lean back and watch Y/N-Jamie-drama unfold in front of his eyes. Like the drama-loving king, he is.

The room was bustling, all of the players, coaches, and nearly everyone who mattered in the club were in attendance. Even Richmond's most famous football podcaster, Y/N. Looking around the big venue, totally out of place until her eyes landed on a certain striker.

Jamie arrived with his chosen fake date—Lena, an old friend who knew exactly what was going on and had agreed to help. She was gorgeous, tall, and poised, draped in a sleek black dress that hugged her in all the right places. More importantly, she was just flirtatious enough with Jamie to sell the act.

He barely stepped inside before catching sight of Y/N. And fuck, she looked breathtaking. An emerald green dress. The of-the-fucking-shoulder kinda dress, it was killing Jamie.

But then he saw the way she froze when she spotted him with Lena. How her hand clenched around her drink. How she blinked twice, like she was trying to process it. Perfect.

Jamie played it cool, keeping a casual arm around Lena’s waist, but internally, he was burning up. Y/N was so fucking beautiful it made his head spin, and if this whole thing wasn’t a ploy to drive her crazy, he’d be halfway across the room telling her exactly how she made his life hell in the best way possible.

The worst part? He was absolutely, pathetically lovesick. It took every ounce of self-control not to stare at her all night, not to gravitate toward her like a desperate idiot.

"Jamie Tartt bringing a date?" Keeley teased as she strolled up to them. Keeley knew Lena. How? Well, Lena and Keeley've had a friends-with-benefits thing going on years ago. That's also how Jamie knew Lena. Lena, the lesbian supermodel. No ounce of her straight.

Keeley was blonde, but she surely wasn't dumb. She knew that there was a plan going on at the moment. Wondering why sh wasn't in on it... "Well, well. Didn’t think you had it in you, Tartt. Beautiful date." Keeley played along, talking loud enough for Y/N to hear. So, Keeley saw right through the plan and approved of it.

Jamie smirked, pleased that Keeley picked up on the situation so quickly. "What can I say? A man’s gotta move on, right?"

Keeley gave him another knowing look but said nothing, watching as Y/N took a sharp sip of her drink and turned away abruptly.

Lena leaned in, whispering not loud enough for Y/N to overhear, "She’s staring, you know."

Jamie chuckled. "That's the whole point."

Y/N was livid. And worse—she had no right to be livid. Jamie was free to date whoever the hell he wanted. They were just friends after all.

That's what Jamie told her, and she just agreed to it?!

But fuck, why did he have to look so good? And why was his date touching his arm like that? And why was he looking at her with that smug, knowing expression?

"Jamie," Lena turned towards the striker, who was busy watching his target, Y/N, like prey. She whispered. "I don't blame you for staring at her, she's fucking fit. Honestly, if she doesn't confess to you soon, I might just snatch her away from you. But shouldn't you keep making her jealous and not stare her down?"

"Right, right." Jamie thought about what Lena said and composed himself really fast. "She looks like she's goin' to storm over 'er soon. I'm gonna touch your waist and whisper something in your ear, that okay?" Jamie was all about consent, even though it's pretend. Lena nodded.

"Lena, go and get yourself somethin' to drink, she'll come talk to me while you're gone."

If Jamie knew Y/N well enough (which he does), he knew that she would come to talk to him as soon as Lena was out of sight. She was short-fused after all.

Lena nodded. "It's a plan."

And what a plan it was. Y/N didn't leave Jamie and his date out of her sight for the whole evening. As soon as Jamie's date left for the bar, Y/N's feet dragged herself toward Jamie.

She downed her drink and marched towards him before she could talk herself out of it.

"Hi, Jamie. Have a great evening with your date?" she said sweetly, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Did you pick her up from a modeling agency or just order her custom?"

Y/N wasn't like that. She never was. But the big green monster made her a..... bitch. Jealous, Jealousy.

Jamie barely contained his laugh, he didn't know his Y/N could be like that. Roy, standing off to the side, failed miserably at hiding his big fat smirk. He knew it...

"Jealous, are we?" Jamie asked, cocking his head.

Y/N’s jaw clenched. "Of course not. I think it’s adorable how you two are pretending to have chemistry."

Lena, the true MVP, entered their conversation again, finally back from the bar, and played along perfectly. "Oh, Jamie and I have loads of chemistry, don’t we, babe?"

Jamie grinned. "Oh, yeah. Absolute fire."

Y/N gave him a tight-lipped smile and turned her attention towards Lena. "Well hello, I'm Y/N, the girl Jamie said 'I love you' to last week. Don’t let me keep you from your thriving love life. Enjoy your evening."

And with that, she turned on her heel and stormed off. Slightly embarrassed.

Roy walked proudly towards Jamie. "God she’s fucking fumin’. It’s workin’."

Jamie barely held back his laugh. "Fuckin’ hell, she’s so hot when she’s mad."

Lena groaned. "You’re both idiots. How about you go after her now, Jamie?"

Jamie found Y/N outside later that night, arms crossed as she stared at the city lights. He approached slowly, hands in his pockets.

"Y’know," he mused, "you looked ready to throw a punch back there."

She shot him a glare. "Fuck off, Tartt. Don't you want to go back to your date?"

Jamie smirked. "Why? Don’t like seein’ me with someone else?"

Y/N turned to fully face him, eyes blazing. "You’re insufferable."

Jamie stepped closer, his voice dropping. "You don’t have to be jealous, you know. She was just a friend. No strings attached."

Y/N swallowed, her resolve wavering. "Good for you."

Jamie tilted his head, his smile softening. "You can admit it, y’know. You like me."

Y/N’s breath hitched. "Jamie—"

He leaned in, so close she could smell his cologne. "Say it."

But she didn’t. Not yet.

She turned and walked away, leaving Jamie staring after her, his smirk fading into something softer.

She wasn’t ready. But fuck, she was close. He nearly had her.

Their next podcast episode? It was gonna be explosive.

[efexumukoroxlc]

Efe smiled. "Hey, that's fair. If it helped you, that's a good thing. But I lived in a big city for ten years. Nobody's apartment's that nice," he joked. "I think some people do try to be. Just want a rise or whatever. Hell. My mom used to tell me if you don't have something nice to say, don't say it. I don't have to sugarcoat if I just keep it to myself, I guess. What if you flipped that, though? What do you have to gain by telling it? I had to teach myself to think that way. To tell people what you want them to know so something good might come out of it. We can't afford to leave things unsaid anymore around here. S'why honesty is admirable, I think." He was rambling a little bit, buzzed, but he hoped he was making some kind of sense.

Efe laughed at that, throwing back his head. "Yeah. Yeah. I volunteer everywhere. It's why I have so many charity 5K t-shirts. But I help teens with their homework. There's this mentorship program that leans toward humans. It can be tough growing up here. Not feeling...special. I read to the little kids sometimes too. Whatever I can." He shook his head. "I mean, you have a damn cute nose, but it's not just the nose. You're also nice. And funny," he hummed. "And that's just one side of me. But yeah. Yeah. Right! I'll text you. Tomorrow. We can...we can plan it." He gave a sharp nod. "Well, you can tell me whatever you want to tell me about it. But it'd be sad if you left." He shrugged.

Efe smiled, giving a low chuckle. "Badger likes to play. He doesn't really get that fetch requires letting go of the ball, though. What breed is she? Badger's a little bit of everything. He's a rescue." He nodded along. "Uh huh. Uh huh. See, table manners are something different. I eat with my hands all the time," he joked. "But sure. Jonah's a cool guy. We're in the Coalition together."

Efe caught the way her face changed, and he allowed his own features to soften to match. "Oh. Well, it's not your fault nobody in this town wants to go to it. Therapy, I mean. Besides, everyone's good at something. And that doesn't have to be what you do for a living. I thought I was going to be a professional wrestler." He sighed, giving a shrug. "I mean, it was less of that and more of this...competitive thing. They knew each other as kids, so they were always trying to one-up each other. I found it sort of exhausting, to be honest." He sniffed. "Hey! Gym date!" He grinned before half-singing a little more. "Last Dance, last chance for....Yeah, I won that talent show, and now everyone wants to be my talent agent. I don't think disco's my genre, do you?"

"Fair, but what if they speak english real nice and slow?" She offered up in Friends defense. "Oh. I hope I'm not one of those people. I don't try to be. I guess I've just never been all that good at sugarcoating things. That's nice of you though. I guess for me, I don't really feel like I have much to lose by not telling the truth. But, I also don't really have many people or any people outside of Nico. So, that may be part of it too."

"You know you do look like someone who can read," She smiled. A bright and warm smile as she found herself beaming up at him. "You volunteer in the library? That's cool. What do you there? And thank you. It's probably the nose. I had it done when I was eighteen." Her uncle had always told her she would look better with her nose done and he must not have been wrong. "You're really easy on the eyes though too," She promised him. "Kinda. Yeah. I wonder why that is. Wait- did you say date? Oh, um, okay! Sure! We can go on a date," She nodded along happily. She couldn't remember the last time she had been asked on a date before. But, dates were supposed to be fun, weren't they? "Sort of? It's kind of a long story though."

"That would be fun! We can have the pups go on a date too. Luna's super friendly. Sometimes too friendly. She still thinks she's a puppy, but she's huge now and I'm pretty sure she'd plow down a burglar to give them love," She let out a small laugh at the thought. "They could try? You might tear the sleeves though. But, then again, that could be a look. Good for you. I've been told I'm not very good with manners or keeping my elbows off the table, but I try. You should talk to Jonah. I've heard he loves submarines and he seems like he reads too."

"Oh," Her face drooped as she thought back to the camp retreat. "I quit my job after that," She mumbled quietly under her breath. "That's sweet of you to say, but it doesn't change the fact that I was bad at therapy. I'm learning I'm not that great at most things."

"Huh?" Her brows creased at the mention of Nico. "What kind of rivalry? Like they didn't like each other?" She asked, already preparing herself to hate this unknown woman on the simple principle that she didn't get along with her best friend and nothing else. "You're not wrong there. I can bench a lot too! I might even be able to lift you," She assessed, if only because of super strength, but she could certainly try. "Do that again. The song? You're a really good singer."

[idciminlove]

FIGHTER.

Part Six - Six

Kang Dae Ho x f!reader

Cinnamonacid on AO3

Warnings - death, misogyny, slightly androgynous themes, anxiety, blood, etc.

You participate in the next game, the six legged pentathlon.

Six Legged Pentathlon. You will be chained together by the ankle, and each member will complete a game in order to move on. You must finish the race within five minutes, or else all players will be eliminated. The mini games are as follows:

Game 1 - Ddakji

Game 2 - Flying stone

Game 3 - Gonggi

Game 4 - Spinning top

Game 5 - Jegi

One of the men in your group let out a small sigh of relief. “Ah, so it’s good that we got a girl on our team, after all. You know how to play Gonggi, right?”

“Not really, no.” You admitted.

You never cared for girly stuff when you were younger. Never played any games like gonggi or anything like that. All you wanted to do was what your father did. Your mom would always be busy, working long shifts at the hospital as a nurse, so you spent most of your time with your Dad, and you liked it that way. Hanging out at the ring, getting to watch him train, and being able to train once you were old enough. You thought it was the coolest.

At school, you didn’t fit in anywhere. The girls thought you were too boyish, and the boys thought you were too girlish. The girls would whisper mean things about you behind your back, and the boys? They just said it to your face. It never ended well, always turning into a fight with someone getting hurt and crying. You only had a few friends throughout those years, and they never stayed. No best friends, no forever, only strangers that came and went.

“Seriously? What are they teaching you kids these days?” He scoffed. “Just when we thought you could be useful.”

You clenched your fist, gritting your teeth together, resisting the urge to punch him in the face. Deep breaths. No matter how badly you wanted to hurt this prick, you knew it would only make everything worse. The guards would probably kill you this time if you did. Stay calm and focus. Work with these assholes so you can win and get out of here alive.

“It’s alright, I can play gonggi. My daughter and I play it all the time.” 246 interjected. You smiled at him thankfully. He smiled back.

After some brief discussion, your teammates selected their roles. You picked Jegi. You’ve always been good at Jegi. Your Dad would have you play it to improve your footwork, coordination and balance. It’ll be easy. Everything will be okay.

And then, the first two teams went.

It was a complete mess, each players’ movements sloppy and uncoordinated from the adrenaline and fear running through them. One of the men even pissed himself from how afraid he was, failing the flying stone game multiple times before finally getting it. The timer ran down, and neither team made it.

You flinched, squeezing your eyes shut, unable to watch as the two teams were killed. The sound of their screams and flying bullets echoed around in your brain. You grabbed your pant legs, feeling your hands begin to shake, and your heart begin to race. Your chest got tight, and you tried to focus, tried to breathe. You couldn’t panic. Not again. Not in front of these men. But how could you not when it all seemed so hopeless?

Then, the next teams went. 120, 095, an elderly woman and her son: 149 and 007, and that creepy shaman lady, 044. It didn’t look good at first, the teams panicked in a similar way to the previous ones, but this team did something different. Instead of yelling and putting pressure on one another, they encouraged each other, motivated each other, telling each other exactly what they needed to hear. As they completed game after game, the players watching started to cheer, growing more and more eager.

They made it. All the players watching celebrated, reinvigorated and optimistic. They showed that these games were achievable. You could win and make it out. All you needed was to work together.

–

45 seconds remaining.

Your team had done well, managing to pass the games with little to no trouble, overcoming the obstacles when you did fail. Even though they were all bastards, the men on your team worked well together, but now, it was up to you, and you were running low on time.

You picked up the Jegi from the box with shaky hands, taking a deep breath and centering yourself. Blood stained the rainbow patterned floor beneath you, a daunting reminder of what would happen if you failed. 246 nudged your arm slightly, offering you a reassuring smile. “You got this.”

You nodded, dropping it onto your foot, kicking it up into the air. You counted under your breath.

“One, two, three, four-”

“-Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty!” You jumped up and down, beaming with excitement. You threw open the door, running inside to your father, who was standing in the kitchen, making dinner. “Papa, papa, look! I got a new record! I got twenty!”

“That’s wonderful, sweetheart.” He ruffled your hair. “See if you can get it to forty next time. Who knows, maybe you can break my record.”

On the counter beside him was a press release, a picture of him and another fighter on the front, facing off against each other. You picked it up, gazing down at it. “Is this your next fight?”

“Yeah, he’s a big guy. They call him Goliath.” The man did appear much bigger than your father, almost dwarfing him in size, even with your father on his bulk, his body rather large itself. You skimmed the article, reading the predictions projecting him to lose.

“Are you scared?”

“Nah, don’t you know how the story goes? David beats Goliath. He might be bigger and stronger, but my trainers helped me find his weakness. So, even though nobody believes it, I think I have a pretty good chance. You remember that, okay? No matter what anyone says, don’t give up. Don’t quit. Keep fighting, always.”

You nodded. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Go wash up, it’s time for dinner.”

–

As you kicked the Jegi for the fifth and final time, everyone cheered. Your team crossed the finish line with five seconds to spare. You did it. You won. It was a nice feeling, to have all those people rooting for you, to have all those people care. Amongst the crowd, you saw Dae-Ho, shouting at the top of his lungs and holding onto 222, both of them cheering for you. After everything you said to him, everything you did, he still rooted for you, so happy to see that you made it out, safe and sound.

You can’t help but hope that he makes it out of this game okay too.

[heaven-s-black-box]

Notes- Blabber Mouth Pyro Men

Return to File

Recovery date: February 4th, 2025

Description: Pyro version of Blabber Mouth

Notes: CW surprise pregnancy in Thoma's part I considered adding Lyney but, I wanted to keep it consistent and he's 17. Which, I thought he was the same age as Childe?! Him and Lynette being 17 makes more sense, but, ya. Gaming is somewhere between 18 and 20?! Kind of thinking I should have just done everyone... Anyways, no pronouns but reader can get pregnant.

Hydro Dendro Cryo Pyro Anemo Electro Geo

Back to directory

Diluc

I think, as head of his family he always figured kids were in his future

I imagine he has business partners bugging him about it

But he doesn’t give it too much thought until you get married

And then he’s got a nursery planned as soon as you decide you want children

He’s worried that he won’t be a good father, but he holds your baby everything kind of clicks for him

Definitely wants at least two kids

Despite everything that happened between him and Kaeya, he has fond memories of their early years and hopes your kid can have the same thing

You’re actively trying for a baby when you get pregnant, but you’re not checking every week

So you get busy, and it’s winter so you think you’ve just caught a bug if you’re having morning sickness

Your first kid comes over one evening before Diluc puts them to bed

They kiss your stomach then ask to be picked up

Diluc short circuits until your first born asks for a bedtime story

He’s so happy

Thoma

He likes the thought of having kids, but he’s very focused on his service to the Kamisatos

Once you start to settle down together I think he gets baby fever

Sees kids around festivals and in the streets and is just like, yup

Your first is planned, and he knows he wants more because he had a few siblings on his own

I think you agree to have another eventually, but when you actually get pregnant it’s a surprise

Love Thoma, I think he’s a very cautious person, I also think he’s a bit reckless when it comes to you

And he’s kind of like, what are the odds

Not zero, that’s for sure

Ayaka is babysitting your first born while you and Thoma go on a date

And when you pick them back up later, they run to you instead of Thoma

He’s so shocked, you think he might cry, but those tears quickly turn to happy ones as your kid showers your stomach in affection

He did the same for his siblings, so it clicks for him pretty quickly

Picks you and your kid up and spins you around, loves being able to hold his entire family at once

Gaming

Definitely wants kids, he’s totally a family man

His dad definitely asks when you two are gonna have kids, Gaming tells him you’ll get there when you get there

Encourages your kid to follow their dreams, has led to interesting moments when their dreams include being a rock

Teaches them the Wushuu dance and lets them “help” with deliveries

It’s one of those days that your little one spills the beans

You just think you’re a bit under the weather or about to start your period

Your little one barges into the house with Gaming on their heels as they return from a delivery

They skip over you and go straight to kiss your stomach

They’d been kind of clingy before leaving, and now with how off you’ve been feeling it kind of clicks

Gaming picks you both up and you nearly hit your head on the ceiling

Your kid scolds him for not being careful

He’s overjoyed

[autumn-foxfire]

Hi, What do you think of Shinichi as a University professor ? Which subject he will teach and he will be a, Friendly professor,Cool professor, Charming professor, Hot professor,Strict professor, Super Strict Professor or I just don't care professor, Don't mess with me professor , or none of the above

But poor kids won't be able to copy in the exam hall , if he is an Invigilator.

The one that rambles about his hyperfixation for half of the class and then has to rush to fit everything he was meant to be teaching in the second half.

But thankfully his hyperfixation is crime and if he was a professor he'd probably be teach criminology so a lot of what he talks about is related to what he's teaching.

People think he's the "cool" professor, quickly learn he's the drama queen professor who has the hots for their drama professor (Kaito) and then go back to thinking he's cool when he solves a case in front of them and they see first time that he really is his mother's son and knows how to put on a performance.

From what I've seen with the detective boys, he is getting better at prompting them to solve cases on their own merit and he'd be that why with students, giving them hints but ultimately wanting them to find the answers themselves. However there are times he forgets to do that and will just answer his own questions and needs a reminder (from the science professor if you guess who that is) about letting his students learn from him, not speaking at them.

If you do join his class though, you have to be prepared for one of your other classmates being murdered in a middle of a lecture. It happens. Shinichi has to start every new year telling his students if they are stupid enough to try and kill, especially in front of him, they will be caught and arrested.

[deezee112]

The worst ending 18 : Eternal Protection

The worst ending 17 | The worst ending 19

Yandere!platonic!Ortho Shroud x GN!Reader

A/N : I should watch sci-fi movies. I should really stop watching them. Not because the plot is bad, but because I've been watching sci-fi movies for 5 days straight, going to bed at 1am every day.

And I'm really stressed about work, both studying and working. I don't want to work, but if I don't, I won't have any money. Maybe I should stop thinking too much.

Warning : Yandere platonic Themes , Psychological Horror , Possessiveness, Isolation , Non-Consensual Transformation , Character Death.

Tags :

@iris-arcadia @yuu-twisted

If you want me to tag you please tell me.

English is not my first language.

The boy in front of you wasn’t human. His body was made of sleek metal and glowing energy, floating just slightly above the ground. His Gold eyes blinked slowly, scanning you with an unreadable expression. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move unless you moved first. He just watched, waiting.

You crouched down, meeting his gaze. " You don’t have a name yet, do you? "

He tilted his head, the faint whirring of gears filling the silence.

A name. Something simple, something warm.

" Ortho. " you murmured. " That’s what I’ll call you. "

The boy blinked. Slowly, his lips curled into a small, mechanical smile.

And just like that, he had a name.

At first, Ortho was silent, responding only with nods or slight tilts of his head. You had to teach him everything—how to speak, how to understand emotions, how to mimic the natural flow of human interaction.

" Ortho, this is a spoon. " you said one evening, handing it to him.

He stared at it, tilting his head. " Spoon. " he repeated in a metallic voice.

" Right! And you use it like this. " You demonstrated, scooping up some soup.

Ortho hesitated before mimicking your actions perfectly. " I see " he said, his voice a little smoother now.

" Good job! " You ruffled his hair, only to feel the hum of energy beneath your fingers. He blinked up at you, eyes glowing a little brighter.

That was the first time he looked genuinely happy.

Over time, Ortho grew more expressive. His speech patterns improved, and his attachment to you deepened. He followed you everywhere, hovering silently behind you like a tiny, floating shadow.

" Ortho, personal space. " you reminded him one afternoon when you nearly tripped over him.

" But I have to stay close to you. " he said, frowning. " Big Sister is fragile. "

" I’m not fragile. "

" You don’t have armor. "

" That doesn’t mean— "

" If something happened to you, I wouldn’t be able to repair you." His tone was soft but firm. "So I must protect you. "

You sighed, giving up. There was no reasoning with him when he got like this.

At first, it was small things. Ortho would insist on carrying your bags, scanning your food before you ate, hovering outside the bathroom door " just in case. "

Then it got worse.

" Ortho, what happened to my phone? " you asked one evening, searching your room.

" I removed it. " he said simply.

" What? Why?! "

" You were talking to too many people. " he explained. " Some of them could have been threats. "

" Ortho, give it back! "

His eyes glowed a little brighter. " No. "

Your stomach twisted.

He wasn’t joking.

One evening, you decided to go out alone. Ortho protested, of course, but you assured him you’d be fine.

" I’ll be back soon, okay? " you promised.

He didn’t respond. He just floated there, watching.

The city lights blurred together as you walked, enjoying the rare moment of solitude. But as you turned a corner, the streetlights flickered. Your phone—your new one, hidden from Ortho—buzzed with an alert.

[ WARNING: HIGH THREAT LEVEL DETECTED ]

Your heart pounded.

You turned, and there he was. Hovering above the pavement, glowing brighter than ever.

" Big Sister. " Ortho said softly. " You left me behind. "

" Ortho…I just needed some air— "

" You don’t need air. " he interrupted. " You need me. "

His hands lifted, and for the first time, you realized just how strong he really was.

The next morning, your apartment was eerily quiet. Ortho sat at the table, humming softly to himself. In his hands was a small, delicate device—a heart monitor.

It was silent.

He tilted his head, listening to the absence of sound.

Then he smiled.

" Now you’ll never leave again, Big Sister! "

The screen of his eyes flickered.

System rebooting.

A new directive.

Protect. Preserve. Keep her forever.

Even if that meant turning you into something just like him.

[shoot-i-messed-up]

pspsps..... you should say your clarkollie thoughts....... im lady mcbething u...... prettee pls :3

TY FOR ASKING <33 but it’s honestly just my various thoughts on Clark showing up in Green Arrow (2001), most of which I’ve already said before I think

Because iirc Clark was the last person who saw Ollie, and Clark could’ve technically saved Ollie at the price of Ollie losing his arm and not being able to shoot anymore, so Oliver died

So even after Ollie reunites w the rest of the JL, Clark and Ollie have a special scene where Ollie’s like “we both need this” and they’re just like gimlet eyed looking at each other, and I feel like it’s SO easy to envision a fic where it leads in with that line and then they fuck nasty about it (metaphorically) (but also maybe literally)

When I was talking to my friend about clarkollie and how insane that line sounded, she was like… so they literally just care about each other as people. And I couldn’t even defend them, hence my reblog of that post

I did look at the clarkollie tag and saw, to my complete surprise, that there’s actually hundreds of clarkollie fics??? Like 3 or 4 times the amount that superlantern has??? Until I realized oh. That’s bc of Smallville. If u take out smallville, Clarkollie only has like 3 fics iirc

(I’m talking abt comics clarkollie, in case that wasn’t apparent before lmao)

I think Clarkollie is interesting because, like, usually when Clark goes around with a powerless fellow superhero, it’s going to be Bruce/Batman (who always gets gassed up by comics or shows as being so smart that he’s equal to Clark) or even Steel AKA John Henry Irons (whose Iron Man ahh suit basically means he does have superpowers in practice)

But Superman going around with Green Arrow? I think there’s room for thinking about that power dynamic that could cause friction in their already kinda tenuous relationship. I swear somewhere in a comic, Superman says a line about how he and Ollie never got along (that I then stole for my fic Embarcation), and it’s pretty clear from Green Arrow (2001) that Ollie thinks of Superman as being adjacent to The Man he’s always trying to stick it to. There’s also that panel from like the 80’s or smth iirc (I am probs not) where Ollie is like “sometimes I wonder if the rest of the JLA are just humoring me and giving me easy missions because I’m literally just a guy with a bow,” and Superman is so…the opposite of that. Idk. Food for thought.

There’s also the fact that Ollie is infamously leftist, and while I do think Superman has to be leftist because of…everything about him (I can’t remember exactly, but I believe his very first adventure was him breaking into a senator’s house to tell him a person on death row was innocent or something along those lines), I think in modern times, he’s been written to be more constrained in his political actions in his superhero persona due to being a symbol. I could easily imagine Ollie criticizing Clark for not doing more activism, for not using his symbol for more. Like instead of in Hard Traveling Heroes where Ollie teaches Hal to be less ignorant (a horrible oversimplification but bear with me), Ollie could help Clark find a stronger balance between being a symbol and using that symbol for good? (Although I think “help” would be a strong word there)

Also, In Green Arrow 2001 Dinah tells a woman that “the good [men] do the dishes” iirc, a pointed statement against Oliver. It reminds me of that tweet that criticizes “leftist” men who leave their household chores/management to their gfs/wives, much like their conservative counterparts. I think this is an interesting contrast to depictions of married!Clark where he’s a loyal and dutiful husband to Lois.

In conclusion: Idk!!! Could be interesting!! I would find clarkollie more interesting as friends than lovers, but I’m using the ship name just because it’s easier to talk about that dynamic that way.