#while their abilities get canceled by everything

[thegreencarousel]

Its season 8 and my boy Reaper still has 0 buffs, its getting out of hand when even Cassidy has more survivability when taking damage compared to Reaper OTL

[pansexualkiba]

You're now a boss battle!

You already know what the hell is going on. You're sitting around in a DUNGEON, probably feeling yourself, probably making life rough for the guys around you, probably just genuinely being a good dude. When UH OH! Some team of HOOLIGANS and RAPSCALLIONS are here to fuck your shit up!

NOT IF YOU CAN HELP IT!

Of course you're powerful, you're a BOSS BATTLE. But every boss battle needs some sort of gimmick! You need a STATUS EFFECT!

NOW SPIN THE WHEEL TO DETERMINE THIS STATUS.

Share this with your friends. And enemies. I don't mind which.

Edit: UNLESS STATED YOU ARE CASTING THESE ON THE OPPONENT. I'm not sure HOW we have this confusion but HEY

Edit2: Now that it's done, here's a full list under the cut!

First, a glossary of STATS:

HP and MP are what comprise a person's BEING! HP are your HIT POINTS, the AMOUNT OF CUMULATIVE DAMAGE you can take before falling in battle. MP fuels SPECIAL ABILITIES, like MAGIC and THROWING YOUR SWORD LIKE A BOOMERANG. If you run out, you can't USE THEM. Additionally, different skills cost different levels of MP (You can't expect DEATH METAL to be as cheap as SHADE!), so keep that in mind as well!

STRENGTH and MAGIC determine the power of PHYSICAL and MAGICAL attacks, of course! DEFENSE and MIND determine how well you resist damage of their respective kinds! EVERYONE HAS DIFFERENT LEVELS OF EACH! Generally, being really good in MAGIC and MIND makes you kind of FRAIL, and VICE-VERSA! It's why people generally travel in PARTIES, to COVER EACH OTHER!

EVASION and ACCURACY are two sides of the same coin: HOW WELL AN ATTACK WILL HIT. As a rule, powerful abilities tend towards low accuracy, so either BUFFING YOUR ACCURACY or DEBUFFING OPPONENT EVASION will mitigate that. Likewise, BUFFING YOUR EVASION or DEBUFFING OPPONENT ACCURACY will let you dodge otherwise-sure hits. Generally, high accuracy will cancel out high evasion, and vice-versa.

Finally, ELEMENTAL RESISTANCES. There are several magical elements, including FIRE, ICE, POISON, and DARK. Having a RESISTANCE will mitigate the RESPECTIVE DAMAGE. Allegedly, if your resistance reaches ABOVE 100%, you can HEAL INSTEAD.

A BUFF and a DEBUFF affect the ABOVE STATS. Buffs INCREASE said stats, and debuffs DECREASE the same. BOTH are TEMPORARY! They DECAY over time, and GO AWAY when the battle's over!

That's the tutorial done. Here's the AILMENTS! One could call them STATUS EFFECTS, from the way they AFFECT the STATUS... But I won't. (Note: unless stated otherwise, Ailments are TEMPORARY; they will EVENTUALLY GO AWAY)

STAT DEBUFFS

PLAGUE: MAX HP is HALVED! In visual terms, this means that the affected goes from a maximum of, say, 600 HP to 300 HP! When this is healed, MAX HP returns to normal, but CURRENT HP REMAINS THE SAME!

HEX: MAX MP is HALVED! In visual terms, this means the affected goes from, say, 100 MP to 50 MP! This WILL lock some people out of their more POWERFUL ABILITIES, sooooo...

WEAKEN: Reduces STRENGTH and MAGIC! This also continues INCREMENTALLY - DECAY will pause until WEAKEN wears off! GET WEAK.

TIRED: Reduces DEFENSE and MIND! Like Weaken, this is INCREMENTAL, and these debuffs WILL NOT DECAY until Tired wears off! GET TIRED.

BLIND: ACCURACY IS HALVED! Better use attacks that DON'T MISS, or HIT EVERYTHING!

JINX: REVERSES ACTUVE BUFFS INTO DEBUFFS! This does not turn debuffs into buffs! Furthermore, while Jinxed, ALL FURTHER BUFFS WILL INVERT!

UNLUCKY: The afflicted will have WORSE LUCK! Their attacks will miss more, they'll get hit by inaccurate attacks, they'll land LESS CRITICAL HITS, and they'll be MORE SUSCEPTIBLE to AILMENTS!

STAT BUFFS (Try to target yourself)

SHIELD: While your SHIELDS ARE UP, you take HALF DAMAGE FROM ATTACKS! Simple and easy to understand!

HASTE: On your NEXT TURN, you get an EXTRA ACTION!

INVINCIBLE: YOU TAKE NO DAMAGE!

MORALE: While this is active, you CANNOT fall below 1 HP! This makes you EFFECTIVELY IMMUNE to DOOM and DEATH!

BRAVE: You are now IMMUNE to Critical Hits! Additionally, your Crit Chance is now DOUBLED!

IMMUNE: You are UNAFFECTED by other AILMENTS!

CUTE: You CANNOT BE TARGETED FOR ATTACKS! This remains up even if you're the LAST ONE STANDING! Of course, you'll still get hit by COLLATERAL DAMAGE from MULTI-TARGET MOVES...

REFLECT: For any damage you take, INFLICT HALF OF THAT ON THE OPPONENT!

VAMPIRE: DRAIN HP from the opponent with EVERY ATTACK! You will gain HALF of the damage you give as HP!

LEECH: DRAIN MP from the opponent with EVERY ATTACK! You will gain ONE THIRD of the damage you give as MP, while DEPLETING THEIRS!

REGEN: HEAL HP EVERY TURN!

LUCKY: Your luck IMPROVES! Better chances to hit, evade, and crit! Secondary effects have a GREATER CHANCE of occuring!

DAMAGE OVER TIME! Each is effectively the same thing, so I'll only point out their ELEMENT and any SPECIAL PROPERTIES.

BURN: FIRE

DROWN: WATER

SALT: EARTH

SHOCK: THUNDER

FROST: ICE

POISON: POISON

MIASMA: DARK

BLIGHT: LIGHT

BLEED: No element. Damage INCREASES EACH TURN. Can be healed with any healing spell.

DESPAIR: Drains MP instead of HP.

BEES: A swarm of bees. Scales off of DEFENSE, so it's actually rather weak. To make up for this, they will SWARM THE WHOLE PARTY until EVERYONE IS BEING DAMAGED OVER TIME.

WEAKNESSES. These make you MORE WEAK to a GIVEN ELEMENT. As their main difference is as such, I will mainly denote DIFFERENCES.

DRY: FIRE. Can be cured with a WATER SPELL.

WET: ICE and THUNDER. Can be cured with a FIRE SPELL.

HEAVY: EARTH. Makes you resist WIND.

LIGHT: WIND. Makes you resist EARTH.

WOUND: POISON. Can be cured with any healing spell.

PANIC: DARK

SCORN: LIGHT

UNDEAD: If the afflicted would be HEALED, they instead TAKE DAMAGE INSTEAD. This effectively makes one WEAK TO HEALING MAGIC.

SKIP A TURN. Forced inaction.

SICK. Sometimes, you'll SNEEZE, aborting your turn ENTIRELY. Can be cured with HEALING MAGIC, but UNLUCKY makes it into PLAGUE.

DANCE: You're dancing TOO MUCH to take your turn, but your EVASION is buffed.

BERSERK: You skip your turn in favor of a REGULAR ATTACK, but your STRENGTH is boosted.

HAPPY: A regular TURN SKIP. If a HAPPY opponent is defeated, you get EXTRA MONEY.

STUN: JUST A TURN SKIP. NO FRILLS OR BELLS. THE STANDARD.

SLEEP: INDEFINITE TURN SKIPS. Can be aborted early by being HIT.

HUNGRY: SKIP TURN in favor of consuming something from the inventory.

MISCELLANEOUS

TARGET: ALL ATTACKS WILL HIT THE AFFLICTED. This overrides CUTE.

IGNITE: In a set amount of turns, the afflicted will BLOW UP, doing HEAVY FIRE damage to themself and lesser FIRE damage to their party. Can be cured with a WATER attack.

DOOM: In a set amount of turns, DIE. Skips the countdown under UNLUCKY. Countered ENTIRELY by MORALE. Overrides INVINCIBLE.

DEATH: DIE. Similar interactions to MORALE and INVINCIBLE as with DOOM.

LOCK: The PREVIOUS ACTION must be REPEATED until this wears off.

CONFUSE: CANNOT use the PREVIOUS ACTION until this wears off. Was mistakenly labeled as PANIC.

BAT: Turn into a BAT. HP is reduced to 1, and the opponent cannot use skills or items.

STAGGER: The NEXT hit is a GUARANTEED CRIT. Combine with BRAVE and LUCKY for CRITx3 COMBO!

SILENCE: CANNOT USE ABILITIES.

DRUNK: DO RANDOM THINGS.

CHARM: The opponent will TURN ON THEIR PARTY. If they're the only one left and STILL CHARMED, they will ATTACK THEMSELF.

STONE: The AFFLICTED is now a STONE STATUE. Their next hit will SHATTER THEM, KILLING THEM INSTANTLY. STONE can STILL BE CURED BEFORE THEN, of course, and REVIVE is a spell.

CURSE: On the next turn, turns into ANY of these AILMENTS at RANDOM. LET'S GO GAMBLING.

And, of course,

AURA: The HYPE MOMENTS Ailment. If one person has AURA, it will INSTANTLY SPREAD to EVERYONE. EACH TURN, ALL STATS WILL INCREASE. This INCLUDES HP AND MP. AURA is PERMANENT. THE BATTLE WILL BE LEGENDARY.

[rafeslvbug]

introducing…pediatrician!rafe

back to basics!! (physical)

height: 6”3 at minimum, the type of height where he can be assertive if needed with other doctors, or appear gentle to patients if he kneels down. some of the boys he has as patients, always say they aspire to be like “doctor cameron” and the dads are always envious of his height, as men are.

age: early 30s. had to do years of training && education. considerably young in his respective field, but widely praised for his efficiency and ability.

build: works out daily. believes in keeping peak physical fitness to take care of his patients. scrubs fir too tightly over his muscles. could be prone to ripping. mothers often find themselves staring a bit too long at their kid’s doctor.

looks!! (specific)

arms: consistent with any !rafe au, he’s got massive arms. but this is because

- a: to carry patients if need be (though he works with children) - you never know when emergencies might come up,

- b: he finds that having bigger arms is more comforting for little children when he has to hold them

- c: has to handle hospital equipment that might be heavy, and he’s a gentleman so he’s always helping people carry equipment if he’s not busy.

pager && watch: his pager is forever on him, not that he has no life outside of work, just that he cares so much about his patients. he won’t hesitate to cancel a day off for the sake of his patients. his watch is of course because of how much rafe is invested in his fitness and health. needs it to track his workouts and steps etc. or he also likes how convenient it is, to access emails or messages etc.

personality

patient: eternally patient. during arguments. meltdowns. when the baby’s been crying all night. all calm words and gentle movements. never yells. controls his anger and doesn’t make huge outbursts. even when stressed (unless it reaches an extremely bad point - this is rare)

multi-tasking: can put the baby to sleep in one arm and type up an article/report with the other hand while in bed. listens to research podcasts while cooking dinner so he doesn’t have to find time to do it later. efficiency is key. his job is already time consuming, and he wants to make sure he has as much free time as possible.

attentive: rafe’s busy. he’s always working overtime or being called away because of an unexpected patient issue. but when he’s at home with you? his pager isn’t off..but it’s not on his person all the time. he’s able to maintain work-life balance and he’ll listen to everything you have to say about your day. he loves your daughter to bits, and frequently says she’s his, always checking up on her and making sure she’s healthy (as doctors habitually do)

job

specialist position: neonatologist - someone who mainly looks after premature babies’ development and intensive care for infants.

salary: $350,000+ (excluding bonuses and potential to increase)

reputation: young, but well respected. considered one of the best in his field in the hospital. always gets compliments from patients, and dedicated to his work.

likes

stress-free days without overtime. he lives for any ounce of free time, no matter how satisfied his job makes him. likes to be home, likes having time go on hikes or play with your baby.

getting called your baby’s father. he loves it when he gets to say he’s the dad, or when you call him the dad. even if he’s not biologically her dad, he’s the only one who’s been present. adopts her relatively quick.

picking your daughter up from daycare. loves the way her face lights up when she sees him, how she’ll run as fast as her little legs can take her and getting to scoop her up into the car.

when you come to him for help. whether it’s with your daughter or anything tbf. he loves helping, loves being the person you rely on.

dislikes

when you go to a different doctor for help with your daughter. if anything starts arguments it’s that. he wants to be the one to look after her, because it’s all he’s done since she was born. he thinks of himself as her father, and wants you to too. a father looks after his daughter.

patients who bring in their children for dumb reasons. a common cold? wasting his time because they act like they’ve never had a cold before. children in his care are in critical condition, not basic colds, and these people are usually insufferable because they force themselves to the top of his list of priorities.

your ex. never even met him, never even seen him. hates him. loves that he left in a way, because it means he could be in your life, but hates the man for what he put you through.

pet names

he gives you: baby, sweetheart, babygirl, honey, busy lady

you give him: doc, handsome, honey, baby, darling

what he’ll call your daughter: sweetie, pumpkin, little lady,

[hyunebunx]

˖˙ ᰋ ── you, blanket forts and heated kisses

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff!! (and some heated kisses lmao)

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: hiii! this is a continuation of this fic right here! you don't need to read that one to understand this, but they're taking place in the same universe. enjoyy and let me know what you think!! <33

“Let’s build a blanket fort.”

Said Hyunjin randomly on a stormy day, right after kissing you stupid and taking away your ability to think.

Unfortunately for him, you later engaged in an activity far different from the one he suggested, so different that he forgot all about his initial idea for the remainder of the week.

Until now, when you’re found in the same predicament – your beloved has come over with the biggest smile, elated to see you after spending the past month apart. Everything was fine and dandy until the sky suddenly darkened and it started pouring, trapping you both inside the apartment and cancelling all plans you might’ve made outside.

At least this time, the harsh weather took pity on your unfortunate soul and allowed the power to stay on.

“Alright, so it says here we can use chairs, a table, or even the couch for our fort.”

“Did you seriously pull up a wikihow article?”

You turn to him, a little embarrassed at being caught, his genuine laughter making heat rush to your face at an alarming pace. No words escape you and he coos, dropping the big pillows he got from your bedroom before stepping over them to hug you from behind, holding you close while his lips pepper sweet kisses from your cheek down to your neck.

“That’s adorable, baby.” Hyunjin nuzzles your neck, placing one last kiss on your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder. “What else is your little article recommending?”

“Don’t make fun of me.” You whine, attempting to turn around in his arms with no success, quickly settling on hiding your face and embarrassment in your hands, just so he won't see them.

He’s laughing again, tenderly spinning you around by your hips so you’re face to face. “I’m not, baby. I’m just curious why you thought I don’t already possess all the knowledge we need.” He points to his temple, after prying your hands away from the beautiful face that has started to appear in his dreams almost daily.

“Alright, Bob the builder, knock yourself out.” You nod towards the mess he’s made on the floor, to all the pillows, blankets, and sheets he’s stolen from your room. His wish to build a fort made a lot of sense if you take into consideration his ferret nature he always denies. The tiny animal thrived on alone time, hid away in a secluded place away from everyone.

He gasps, bringing his hands to his chest as if he could really fool anyone into believing he’s actually offended. “I’ll have you know I’m an artist! An architect if you will! That guy has nothing on me.”

Giggling, you can’t help but get closer to kiss his pout away, bringing his smile back instantly. “Of course, you are love. The best of them all.”

“Are you making fun of me?” And just as it disappeared, his natural pouty lips can’t help but jut out.

You shake your head, amused at how the tables have turned. “Never.” Then, with the softest touch, you intertwine your fingers and begin dragging him along to the materials he abandoned in the middle of the room. “I’ve never built a fort before.”

“Never?” The look on his face is incredulous, pulling you by the hand to his chest to tenderly kiss your temple, feeling clingier than usual. “Let’s get down to business then.”

Turns out, building a blanket fort is as easy as reading a wikihow article, especially when your Loverboy does most of the work and knows exactly what to use to make it all happen. With the tripod he left at your place, you balance the sheets, keeping them up and creating the perfect opening to your little den of comfort and secrets. Your U-shaped couch was sturdy, assisting your building activities with the many ornamental pillows that became trusty pillars.

You don’t know how much time passed, absorbed into your current task, laughing away with your beloved and teasing each other in good fun. At some point, you get distracted and as he’s ranting away about something that happened at practice, one of your soft pillows collides with the side of his head. Hyunjin stops dead in his tracks, words dying on his tongue as he slowly stands from his crouched position while you try everything in your power to not burst out laughing in his face.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” You feign innocence, gingerly hiding the pillow behind your back like nothing has happened.

Hyunjin stares you down, the intensity in his gaze almost making you confess. Almost. The obvious glint of mischief in his eyes tells you he has an unused card under his sleeve, one you should not ignore.

Without another word, he stretches his arm and beckons you closer with two fingers, obviously expecting surrender. And the pillow that has now become his number one enemy.

When you shake your head and smile brightly, he pauses for a total of five seconds before stepping closer to take matters into his own hands. That’s your cue to flee, so you run in the opposite direction, laughing loudly when he follows and you begin chasing each other around the apartment like little kids.

He’s letting you get away, pretending to be slower and clumsily stumbling over his feet just so your laugh can continue warming his heart, providing the flowers in his chest with the sunshine needed to bloom to maturity.

Then, out of nowhere, he manages to sneak behind you, arms circling your middle and pulling you to his chest with ease, lifting your feet off the ground as both of your laughter blend beautifully. Hyunjin begins attacking you with kisses all over your face and you stop pretending you want to get away, melting into his embrace and fully accepting your fate.

“Caught you.” He says in a sing song voice, over the moon at having you in his arms once again.

Your hands move over his, pillow falling to the ground with a soft thud as you lean back, head on his shoulder to reach his plump lips and press numerous kisses over them. When you move to pull away, one of his hands instantly comes up to cup your cheek to keep you there, tongue sneaking past your lips cheekily. The air shifts instantly as he hugs you closer, kissing you as he needs it to keep living, strong arms serving as an anchor while your body’s buzzing like you’re intoxicated, tingling all over.

Summoning all of your willpower, you manage to pull away from him for the briefest moment. “Just because I let you.”

Hyunjin smiles but you have a feeling it’s an automatic response, his brain not actually processing any of your words as he dives back in, impatient to feel your lips on his once again.

Kissing Hyunjin was always an experience, full of love and passion that had you weak in the knees – but kissing him after not seeing each other for a while felt like the air in your lungs was running out and him, out of the kindness of his heart, kept you alive by sharing his breath with you.

You turn in his arms, just like earlier, but oh so different, one hand gripping his tank top while the other sneaks its way into dark hair, pulling lightly to deepen the kiss which makes him groan lowly. Hyunjin’s grip on your hips burnt, your whole body on fire as he explored it to his heart’s desire, handling you in the exact way one would a priceless sculpture, a work of art he couldn’t look away from no matter how hard he tried.

He tasted divine, and his cologne made you dizzy, just like everything about him did. Without warning, he begins moving, pushing back and guiding your body expertly, biting down on your bottom lip right before breaking the kiss, to your great disappointment.

“Baby.” His voice is hoarse, breath shaky, a nervous laugh escaping him at the look on your face. “Our fort.”

With a groan, you ignore him in favour of placing sweet, open-mouthed kisses up his neck. “You have been driving me crazy with that fort of yours, Hyun.”

His grip on your hips is a warning, sending you mixed signals as he can’t resist but connect your lower halves, needing you as close as possible while he tilts his head back with a heavy breath. “And here I thought that was my irresistible personality.”

You grin, looking up at him while holding onto his biceps for support. “Nope, only your blabbering mouth.”

The tension dissipates as he laughs, eyes wandering and pupils blown even as you tear yourself from him and exhale, trying your best to calm down before going back to the fort you’ve both worked so hard on.

In the end, after weeks and weeks of waiting, you and Hyunjin are finally in your very own blanket fort, giggling like two children who have somehow forgotten what has just transpired a few moments ago.

“This is nice.” You hum, resting your head on his shoulder, glancing at the fairy lights he somehow managed to hang up. You’re both sitting cross-legged on some pillows, surrounded by snacks and blankets.

“I told you I got this. I didn’t need any help or tutorial.” He puffs out his chest, obviously proud he impressed you.

You nod, eyes almost fluttering shut, his bare shoulder surprisingly comfy. “Good job, Bob.”

The words barely have time to escape before you get a pillow to the face, the soft feathers getting into your mouth and startling you awake. You’re frozen in place, not realizing what happened until Hyunjin starts laughing next to you, delighted at the stunt he just pulled.

You push his shoulder, biting back a smile and he laughs harder, toppling over while hugging the pillow to his chest. A part of the sheet gets caught under him and before you know it, the whole thing collapses on top of you, trapping you under along with all the decorations and food neither got to enjoy.

It’s silent for a second before your laughter joins his as you reach to help him sit up, only for him to lose his balance and fall over you, feeling a little claustrophobic under the restrictive sheet. Holding himself up above you with his bulging arms, eyes two crescent moons and engulfing the whole room in a light that could only be produced by him, you move to squish his cheeks together. Lovingly, of course.

“I love you so much, my little liar. But I’m revoking your architecture license.”

Fortunately, Hyunjin didn’t look disappointed in the slightest.

[galedekarios]

Dragon Age: Veilguard | The Ultimate Preview Summary

shinobi602 on twitter shared this amazing in-depth summary of all new information about the game that we have so far:

Coming to PS5, Xbox Series X and PC in Fall 2024

Consoles: Quality and Performance modes (60FPS)

Photo mode is confirmed

Fully offline single player, no EA account linking, no micro-transactions'

Play as a human, elf, dwarf, or Qunari

Choose your backstory, 6 factions to choose from when you create your character, all with "deep roots in Thedas": Antivan Crows, Grey Wardens, Shadow Dragons, Veil Jumpers, Lords of Fortune, The Mourne Watch

Each faction offers 3 distinct buffs each, like being able to hold an extra potion or do extra damage against certain enemies, and the odd reference in dialogue

You can customize your Inquisitor from Dragon Age: Inquisition in the character creator and "make a few key decisions that will impact how The Veilguard begins"

There are some "killer cameos" from past games that show up

Warrior Class: Use a sword and shield or two handed weapon to send enemies flying

Rogue Class: Utilizes quick movement and reflexes. You can wield a bow or dual swords with "powerful, precise strikes for lethal damage"

Mage Class: Use magic to incinerate, freeze, electrocute and crush. Some cast from afar, while others prefer close quarters combat

Each class also has 3 sub-specializations, such as duelist, saboteur, or veil ranger for the Rogue

Classes also have unique 'resource system's, for example, the Rogue has "momentum", which builds up as you land consecutive hits, and each will always have a ranged option

One Rogue momentum attack is a "hip fire" option we saw for the Rogue's bow, letting you pop off arrows from the waist

Another momentum attack for the Warrior lets you lob your shield at enemies

Quests are more handcrafted and mission based, curated with alternate paths, secrets to discover and optional content

There are also open ended explorable areas

Party size of 3 during combat, ala Mass Effect

Combat is focused on real-time action, dodge, parry, counter, "sophisticated animation canceling and branching", using risk-reward charge attacks designed to break enemy armor layers

Enemies have elemental weaknesses and resistances, and you can chain together elemental combos for extra damage

One example is a squadmate using a gravity well attack to suck enemies in, another slowing them down, and the player then unleashing a big AOE attack

You don't take direct control of companions like past Dragon Age games, but you can still pause and issues ability commands for you and your allies

There is a hub area for the player like Skyhold and the Normandy, called The Lighthouse

Companions can eventually start romancing other characters if you opt not to romance them

Each companion also has unique missions tied to them that play into the larger story

Nudity confirmed - romance scenes can get "a little spicy"

"Incredibly deep" character creator: 5 categories including: Lineage, Appearance, Class, Faction, Playstyle

Players can also choose different body sizes and shapes

Dozens of hairstyles to choose from, with "individual strands of hair rendered separately and reacting quite remarkably to in-game physics", pulled from EA Sports

Character creator lets you adjust the lighting so you can be sure your character looks good

The team wanted to balance the look of the game with both light and darkness. "When everything is dark, nothing really feels dark. For this one, we really wanted to build that contrast again."

Skill tree is "vast", you can also set up specific companions with certain kits, from tackling specific enemy types to being more of a supporting healer or flexible all-rounders

There are tarot cards you go through during the character creation process that will let you choose decisions from past games to implement into Veilguard

The team teases you may lose some characters during the story

[currentfandomkick]

Based on this post

Tim tried not to remember.

But when you die the first time from electrocution and get dosed with enough ecto-everything the first time you die, electricity becomes a memory trigger.

Static shocks from a sweater just reminds you of shock wars with someone warm, no specific images.

Somedays when you get hit with Nightwing’s escrima sticks, even low level, you get a flicker of fighting some Discount Dracula and brush it off as a hallucination.

A few rogues hit him with live wires in the rain. Those were always bad. Flickers of people in googles and the worst neon jumpsuits hovering over him, saying words he couldn’t hear. He always felt floaty after, and hid at Drake Manor in his parents’ closet.

His mom’s perfume and Dad’s rank colognes were grounding. those hallucinations were getting worse, sure, but you’re Robin, and as Robin you can’t let Batman down.

Nightwing needs a brother that he can trust to handle Bruce’s depression, suicidal-by-vigilantism, and escalating violence. Nightwing holds everyone else together. Tim can hold just himself and Bruce together and give Alfred a break.

Tim can do it, he swears. He can’t fill growing void Jason’s death left, but he can make supports for Bruce’s crumbling everything. He can be a safety net for Alfred, who is never given grieving space for his lost loved one. He can be the no-drama little brother Nightwing needs after Jason’s death.

But he will not touch being Bruce’s son. Especially after the JJ incident and the memory influx. Bruce is too much like Jack as Brucie, too much like Fruitloop as Batman.

Tim is not Alfred’s grandson or son. He’s a co-parent for Bruce in his time of need (and bullying the man back into someone Jason had loved once). Alfred can be his friend, bug not family.

Tim always honored the dead and mourns them, even when they don’t remember him. Even those that never knew him stretching centuries back. He learned from this life’s parents that bonds are sacred and their loss devastating. They showed him in archeology and actions.

And Tim, he. He’s doing okay.

After the Joker and Freakshow merging into one personas he was shocked over and over.

He heard Freakshow say to kill Sam in the memory.

Vlad strapping him down and zapping him over and over again. His parents vivisecting him despite his screams. Jazz killing them and helping him escape, only to die in Tucker and Sam’s arms in the car. Again.

He killed the Joker then and there. Gun shot.

After the Joker got him and he escaped, he was doing Fine, really! Spectra overlaid on Harley at times, cooing he’s a creepy boy with freaky little powers and his misery is her favorite food.

He has to be useful. Keep Bruce’s head above water. Keep Nightwing from worrying about him. Be the easy kid and he’s loved (conditionally).

His dad only showed up and spoke to him about sports he couldn’t get into, but his new step-mom softened him. He can admit to missing and mourning mom while relaxing so much with Dana.

Dana noticed him flinching at lightning, gave him a noise machine, and offered to get him noise cancelling headphones.

When he admitted his hearing got ‘a lot better lately’ as quietly as he could, she hugged him and told him she’d break the meta abilities to Jack for him.

It wasn’t like Tim hid the ‘tortured by Joker for a few weeks’ thing. Dad knew it was Tim that was nabbed. He also knew Tim was in a Robin costume for a cosplay contest, and found out afterwards how… well, Tim being Robin was.

There are a lot of open secrets in the family. In the extended Drake family, that includes the first Black Canary was Diana Drake, who had too-sticky fingers and was disowned when she kept failing to either improve in hiding it or stop. The meta abilities were low on Tim’s list of priorities as existing… breaking it to Bruce was a hard no-go. So mastering them quickly was key.

Dana asked if he’d tested his vocal range.

Tim had not.

They started with a piano to check. Tim… Tim went far above and below where Dana could hear as they switched to everything from dog whistles to playing with infrasound.

Jack walked in at some-point and they didn’t notice.

Tim was busy working out if hearing echolocation from the Caves’ bats is why he started getting annoyed when he was there that he finally saw Jack sitting there, watching Dana test him.

Tim braced for yelling.

He got a hug. And his Dad holding him too tight while whispering “please don’t leave like Diana”

Tim did break a bit. Not for long, but enough.

Jack finding the Robin suit was not on Tim’s bingo card during the time he was debating coming clean to his fellow Just Us members about his meta-awakening.

Nor was going to Wayne Manor to let Bruce know he was planning to take a break from Robin for personal reasons, only to find his Dad holding Bruce at gun point and demanding Bruce “stay the fuck away from my son”

Jack did hit Bruce with the butt of his gun after Bruce muttered something Tim didn’t hear.

Jack drove them back, the silence tight around his throat. Everything in him demanded he scream to get this growing thing out.

He slammed his hands over his mouth.

Dad pulled over and helped him to a warehouse, feigning needing to vomit.

Tim kept the pitch above human hearing as he screamed, screamed down and was shaking all over.

Jack rubbed his own ears for a moment before helping a collapsing Tim back to the car.

Jack called Tim out sick and the three had a Talk about him being Robin. Especially with his powers emerging.

“Look, B doesn’t know. None of his masks do.” He’d have heard it from Bruce by now if he had. “Nightwing doesn’t either.”

“Batgirl, and the purple one, if they know they’ll tell that prick—”

“Jack,” Dana warned. “Tim, does anyone have any reason to suspect anything?”

Tim took a deep breath and sighed. “No one but us. Diana did a good job severing traceable links back, and I’m not even sure if the current Black Canary knows her mom was from Gotham or believes the cover Diana gave out.”

Jack’s shoulders dropped as the tension drained out of him. “That’s, that’s good.”

“… you have to apologize for the gun at somepoint,” Tim grumbled.

“Not if you’re not Robin.”

“… i may have been debating dropping Robin and toying with making a new alias again.”

“… is this another Mr. Sarcastic thing,” Dana whispered to him.

“Dana!”

“What? I’m not detective but i did do my research young man,” she teased while jabbing a finger at him playfully.

“I—Tim what am I looking at, why is there no armor, and how are you bald?”

“Hahaha, how about we pretend that stint didn’t happen and go over conditions for me solving crimes—we all know i’ll find a way and my team is notorious for international incidents on low stakes, let alone what we’re willing to do for each other.”

Jack and Dana shared a look.

“No Batman.”

“No heroing in Gotham,” Dana added to Tim’s surprise. “Not until we have a better idea on scope, triggers and how you can control and manage your abilities as well as how out you want to be as a meta, in each identity. You can’t unring a bell.”

Tim sighed. “Got it, got it… so i can go on missions with Young Justice still?”

“I’m writing a note that Batman is not allowed near you,” Jack insisted. “He’s not willing to do what it takes to keep you alive.”

Tim took a deep breath before agreeing to that term, and asking to update Alfred and Dick on the matter.

Jack moved to stop him but Dana gave him the go ahead.

Alfred accepted the situation for what it was. Dick offered to sponsor him in the hero community in Bruce’s stead, and reminded him the Titans are always happy to have him, Robin or not.

Jack rolled his eyes but let it slide.

“So Young Justice Missions…”

“Is there an adult on the team?”

“Red tornado is our supervisor,” Tim answered quickly.

“…fine.”

“And Titan missions?”

“They’re adults, they can keep an eye on you,” Jack conceded easily. “Maybe one of them can help with the new,” Jack gestured to all of Tim.

Tim huffed at him. “Thanks dad, really means a lot.”

Jack waved him off. “Weapons check at the window, supervision on missions, and we keep working with your powers. You can tell who you choose, but if you want to be out as a hero, you will be making a new name and will not be patrolling Gotham under this roof, am i understood?”

Tim paused. “So in college I can or—“

“Tim,” Dana warned.

Tim sighed. “Got it… but i can still do casework that’s not in the field?”

“As long as they can’t trace you.”

“Great! And shit, I’ll have to let my rogues know.”

“ ‘your’ rogues?” Jack echoed in disbelief.

Tim smiled at Jack. “Yeah. Some are just mine, especially Anarchy. And Nygma is going to be so bored without me.”

Jack looked at the ceiling. “You just had to be Robin, didn’t you.”

Tim smiled. “Someone needed to, and its not hard to be light to Batman’s dark after the last one.”

The silence hung again. “No dying on me,” Jack warned Tim. “I’m serious.”

Details were ironed out on the days to come. Dana made him promise to call daily while he stayed with the Titans. To not run from her and Jack, please. He also had daily pitch practice, and was given noise dampening headphones as a disability aide for a general sensory disorder so Tim could better focus in classes.

Jack still didn’t trust Batman/Bruce for shit.

…And Tim can’t fault him. Not when he knows his dad wasnt joking about being willing to kill to give Tim a chance at being safe. And that the man who killed mom and put Dad into physical therapy died in jail a few weeks before they moved from a mansion to an apartment.

Tim isnt stupid. Drakes kill to keep their own safe. Bats don’t.

Tim…. Tim doesnt want to, and Dad respects it. Dana isnt the killing type, but won’t stop Jack or whoever he hires.

Joker’s persistent living status AFTER killing the second Robin didn’t endear Bruce to Jack in the slightest. Tim being tortured for weeks and awakening the family meta-gene only soured whatever mild distaste remained into visceral disgust.

Stephanie became Gotham’s Robin while Tim is now the YJ’s and Titan’s was the only compromise Jack would make.

Jack’s rules made more sense as Tim’s… memories(?) from his last life began to spill out. The mundanities of school and home were easily manageable. Making small memory shrines to his late friends in his last life soothed an ache in his chest. Tucker had a sand timer and random bits and bobs for tech, Sam got a few house plants and his old camera. Jazz had a teddy bear and a few psychology papers he thought she might enjoy. Dani got fudge and a few language books with a world map. He still felt guilty for not stopping her death. Technus got an old handheld he didn’t use anymore, Ember got incense and he played indi rock for her. Dora got a dragon figurine and a Disney princess folder with some dress designs he thought she’d like. Pandora has a few batarangs he scavenged and fixed. Frostbite’s was by the icemaker, and was gifted herbal tea blends in ice cube form.

Dana called it grieving and encouraged him to let it happen and let himself feel. He… tried not to think about Jack and Maddie.

Tim trippled down on cold cases to cope. Jack began to turn off the internet after 3 am, only to work again after 9.

He was managing. And working out pitches and how they relate to his emotional state.

The problem came with training at the Tower as Robin, the boy with no powers and working through joker trauma.

During a spar with Dick, Tim had a flashback to Dani’s End and Perfect Danny melting. His own fucking Death too!

It was vomit inducing.

He came to to Nightwing crowding him and murmuring, “breathe with me baby bird”

They didnt talk about it after.

Tim noticed Dick stopped using electricity during their spars altogether, and carefully stayed a certain distance from him in the field. Static picked up on it and Tim shook his head when he moved to talk about it. He just. Needed a bit more time.

He hated himself for it. For the concern causing and being so… useless.

He grabbed another stack of cold cases in Bludhaven and kept solving them, as Tim, Robin and left ghem for Dick to handle.

Dana and him would practice his range at home. Piano ready.

He forgot that plants snitch to Ivy.

Ivy tapping his window to state the dandelions found his singing ‘annoying’ and he’d be getting lessons in singing for plants “or else” was an experience he did not need, nor was he reporting to anyone until a few days later.

Dad took a deep breath and asked him if this is what he wanted.

Dana offered to move closer to her home town and job hunt there if it made Tim more comfortable.

Ultimately Tim ended up getting lessons in plant language from Ivy, as he could hear them anyways. It could be useful for when he works out a new vigilante identity in the future.

Stephanie catching him at Ivy’s while her big boy “Denny” was arguing with Tim about if Tim can shatter concrete with a scream yet given his voice is cracking every other word lately was not in his plans.

Stephanie was about to ask what was going on when Ivy chimed in with “now Timmy, Benny isn’t wrong about it if we go with a thin layer of concrete and you put some effort into it. You can go very low and it does freak out people when you follow the angry tree hum. Now, if you scream that it should be destructive—didn’t a cousin of yours have the same meta ability?”

Tim denied it as keeping cousin Diana’s secret was a family thing. Ivy finding it out with how hidden it had been was not in the cards. Stephanie overhearing was also far from ideal.

Ivy let it go eventually, and demanded Tim do more community service for the beaches. He had no objections, and just asked if she could not implicate him in her next murder spree.

Ivy agreed to ‘think about it’ before letting Tim go after he finished reorganizing some of her chemicals and cleaning her tools. Their agreed ‘payment’ for his lessons in plant language and her interest in his meta abilities being vocal based but having a major change in his hearing.

He wasn’t the first meta she’d taken an interest in helping, and Tim saw signs of others, bumping into a few before and none of them saying shit.

Stephanie met up with him a block away from Ivy’s lair.

She hit him like Sam used to. And agreed to say nothing until he gave the word.

Her reminding him of Sam ached in a way he wasn’t prepared for. Her agreeing to say nothing relaxed him more than he realized he needed to.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. But Ivy for help?”

“Plants outted me. Apparently my singing is disturbing.”

“It is, the plants have good taste.”

He let himself feel normal for a bit. Ivy doesn’t out metas or use them. She is going to kill though, and probably ask for a few warehouses as payment or bribery for her silence on his skills at a later date… which Tim could give her in a few years time as those were in the trust set up by his mother before her death.

Her offerings were given by everyone at home. Dana left her baked goods. Tim left his grades by her shrine when he wasn’t closing cases—the solved ones were left there for a day or so before he’d change them out. Dad spoke to her sometimes, getting her up-to-date on the gossip in their field and new achievements from colleagues they liked and failures from those she despised.

It was comforting.

Dad even knew Tim was planning to do landback with a chunk of ‘wasteland’ that the company kept dumping on, and was planning to rehab it beforehand. If he had slipped an army of sunflower seeds there a while back and gave Ivy a tip about it well… she was willing to trade info on a few cases that he fed back to Stephanie as Robin. Ivy may also catch him working a few cold cases now and then.

He’s aware she’s a dangerous rogue and will continue to kill. He also knows that when he focused on solving a string of women’s deaths and located the (still living) killer that the man was dead after their lesson, and before he submitted his findings to the GCPD cold cases department.

He’s not stupid. He knows she prefers to kill. But he doesn’t.

It makes working with the Titans on weekends awkward when Nightwing begins to notice Tim responding before the others and frowning into the air when the grass gives him tips on when events take place and for incoming company.

No one presses him on it. Static bumps his shoulder and passed a ‘talk when you’re ready’ note to him.

Then the fact Ivy did not hit him with cuddle pollen but did hit Stephanie as Robin and threw them in a room together was just plain embarrassing.

It also meant Ivy figured Tim or Robin had a crush on the other and just. Why?

He finally understood how Sam felt during Ember’s first appearance and he was made to lovestick… sort of. Stephanie koalaing him until they broke out and he managed to get them to one of the quieter Paramedics two blocks over wasnt the same. But close enough.

Dana did get the alert about him being near the attack, and she looked at him too much like Jazz had when she was concerned for his wellbeing.

He wondered what Tucker would say to all this. Two lives and two sets of parents later, and the one who checks him first is the step mom closer to Babs’ age than his father’s.

There’s a million jokes Tucker could make about that.

Dana and Dad had a talk about it, and Tim knew it was written just so he didnt hear it. He hears so much more lately its maddening some days.

He was given the upcoming three-day weekend to stay with the Titans, and Dana suggested asking Raven for tips on managing reincarnation memories.

Dad said he called for a “Jazz, Sam and Tucker” in his sleep a lot. A “Valerie ” on occasion too.

He wanted to melt into a puddle.

Dad muttering he’d find his first parents’ souls and get back at them his damn self didn’t help in the slightest… nor did seeing Dana hide Constantine’s business card in her tampon drawer.

He gave in a bit. His friends can’t know yet, not while he’s working it out. And Raven is Dick’s friend—it would get back to him too fast for Tim’s liking.

He knocked on the door.

“Tim?”

“Hey Virgil, is now an okay time for that talk?”

—

That’s what i got for now. May do another part if anyone is interested.

Also let me know if i missed any tags

[nanamisbbygirl]

—☆ friends with benefits!

chapter 5. long walks on the beach

paring: geto suguru x reader

genre: college au, drama, smut with plot

summary: a pact of pleasure between friends runs the risk of ruining everything. passionate flames burn the hardest. you and geto care about each other, but what happens when sex gets tangled with friendship?

cw: fighting, toxic relationships, drinking, angst

a/n: this was edited while i was sleepy so im sorry if there are any spelling mistakes >.<

prev. < masterlist > next

The waves splashed against the shore, it was a hot summer day– so hot in fact, that all high school classes were canceled due to the rising temperatures. Geto remembered that week well; how he and all his friends were supposed to drive up to the beach, but when Shoko came down with a fever, and Gojo had unexpected family plans, that left just you and him in the car. 

He sat in the driver seat, windows rolled down, letting you play music through the car’s radio. The beach was about an hour away, so the two of you were in for an adventure. He was glad that you still wanted to tag along with him, because the weather was unbearable and his body had been craving the cool ocean water. 

Not to mention, he couldn’t stand the sound of arguments. His parents were always on each other’s nerves and he didn’t want to be around to hear another spat. 

“I can’t believe Satoru forgot that he was going to his cousin’s wedding today,” you laugh, thinking back to what the white hair boy had told you, “how does one forget a wedding?”

“At least it wasn’t his wedding, ya know?” Geto chuckled along, feeling the breeze as he drove. His eyes were meant to be glued on the road, but he couldn’t help sneak a few glances over at you every once and a while. 

You had your sunglasses on your head, wearing nothing but a bikini top and a pair of denim shorts. Your hand reached out the window, as if to touch the wind. He felt himself enjoying this carefree nature that had washed over you, it seemed as though the heat brought out the best of both of your emotions. 

Geto remembered the rest of the day being good. The way you splashed in the water with him, climbing on his shoulders to jump into the water. It was refreshing, the ability to forget about every little worry in the world. He smiled when you collected sea shells, and how you scolded him for not putting on sunscreen. 

Floating on your back, you felt his arms hook under your torso, holding you close to the surface so that you wouldn’t float away. 

“Hold on tight,” he muttered but you couldn’t really hear him with your ears underwater. Before you knew it, he had lifted you up, throwing you back in. 

His heart skipped a beat watching you come back up, wiping the salty water from your face. You laughed, nudging him. 

“You’re such an asshole,” you said playfully, lovingly, with a level of softness as you tried to dunk his head underwater in return. 

You were at the beach for the entire day, and when the sun finally began to set, you begged him to stop for ice cream before you headed back home. It was hard to say no to you, to his friend, especially with the cute little pout that was on your lips. 

“Why don’t we go into town and eat it on the beach?” He had suggested, and you did just that. With your toes in between the sand and a cone of ice cream in your hand, you were both staring out into the sunset. 

Sitting side by side, you were wearing one of his extra t-shirts as a cover up. Admiring the colorful sky, you rested your head against Geto’s shoulder. His skin was warm, slightly burnt, smelling of salt. His hair tied back, and his loose bangs started to curl as a result of the ocean water. 

“I had a lot of fun today, we should do it again.” Geto nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah, I’m glad we ended up coming. I can’t stand being home right now.” He admitted, taking a lick of the cold treat. 

“Your parents?” You questioned, an eyebrow raised. Geto nodded again, looking down in between his feet. There was a comfortable silence that fell over you, eyes turning back to the water. 

“I’m sorry, Su.” You tell him, “hopefully it’ll all work out for the best.” 

“Yeah,” his voice trailed off. 

“If you ever need me– for anything– just tell me. Okay? You’re one of my best friends.” You tell him and again, he offers up a silent nod. 

Your voice is so sweet and gentle as it rings through his ears. It’s a stark contrast to the poisonous hissing he hears on a regular basis. He eases into your touch, taking one last look at the setting sun before fluttering his eyes closed, forgetting about the ice cream in his hand. 

He listened to the steady tempo of the waves hitting the sandy shore, and of the delicate breeze. Your skin against his. A seagull squawking in the background. It feels like peace. He’s only snapped out of his trance when he hears your laughter. 

You rush to wipe the melting ice cream in his hands, a large grin on his face. 

Now he wishes for that peace again, for the intimacy of normality. To go to the beach, letting the water wash away his fears. Yet, he can’t do that now, and with the cab dropping him off in front of the bar, he wonders if he’ll be able to actually spit any words out. It wasn’t as easy as it seemed, he realized. Now he felt as though he was fighting against time itself– praying that Satoru wouldn’t actually confess to you. 

He couldn’t gauge how long he was just standing there, staring at the bouncers, hearing the rush of people, the smell of cigarettes. He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging on the strands that were falling loose. Why did you have to make his heart beat like this? He could’ve sworn he was inches away from having a heart attack. 

Geto pictured every scenario; you had already left, holding Gojo’s arm like he was your anchor; you kissing him at the back of the bar, in a corner where no one could see; or you gushing over his heart-felt confession, reciprocating everything he felt and more. He imagined the way you’d wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your head to his chest like you’d never been hugged before. It made him sick. 

Still in his trance, he thought he saw an angel– watching the way you walked out of the bar with Shoko, slipping into the smoker’s corner in the alley next to it. He didn’t realize she would be there. All of you together without him, having a blast. You were grinning from ear to ear, listening to your friend talk. He wondered where Satoru was and if he was even going to tell you how he felt now that Shoko was with you. 

Had he been bluffing the whole time? Fuck, did he even actually say he was confessing? How much did the weed mess up his perception of the world? Was Gojo even at his house? 

The last twenty-four hours felt like a hallucination, clearly it wasn’t, though, because there you were, at the bar, just like his friend said you’d be. 

He kept staring, studying the way Shoko lit her cigarette, blowing the smoke away from you as you continued to talk giggling like girls did. He figured if anyone caught him staring they’d assume that he was some pervert, getting off on watching girls. 

Shoko’s phone rang. She looked at the screen, rolling her eyes before  answering. He observed how you played with your hair, awkwardly waiting for her to finish the call. He wondered if you would notice his presence now that your attention wasn’t geared towards your friend. 

“Suguru!” A shrilly voice calls out. When he looked to his side he saw a girl– not sure what her name is, but confident he’s hooked up with her. The girl latched herself onto him, clinging to his forearm. “What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in forever!” 

He can barely focus on any of her features, and he doesn’t care to focus on them either. He gives her a disgusted look, hoping to shake her off of him. “Do I know you?” He snaps, head aching from having to deal with her. 

He doesn’t bother to see where she went after that, cursing her for distracting him. When he turns his head back to where you and Shoko were standing, he realizes that your friend has left, gone elsewhere, leaving you alone. He knows it’s now or never, but it’s as if his feet have been cemented to the ground. 

Geto had to put all his might into taking the first step, pushing himself to move. Although, after he manages to do the first, the rest come naturally and he feels as though he’s running to you, like a saviour on a white horse. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” You ask him, back pressed against the brick wall. There are other people around, but they don’t matter. Now, it’s just you and him and he’s desperate– desperate to make things right between the two of you. 

“I came to see you. Satoru said you’d be here.” He paused, trying to wait for your reaction to the other boy’s name.

“And?” You were harsh, and rightfully so. 

“I just wanted to talk,” Geto’s voice was quiet– an octave lower than he was used to speaking in. 

“What’s there to talk about, Su?” Your eyes were blank, expressionless. Not sad. Not angry. Indifferent. And that hurt him more than anything else. 

He paused, catching his breath. He wanted to pour his heart out, but it was almost as if there was a dam holding his flow of speech back. At least, the words he really wanted to say were being withheld by his tongue. 

“To talk about us, about what happened. You never answered my texts.” He was equally harsh, snapping at you, even if that wasn’t how he truly felt. 

There it was. That bubbling feeling inside of him. The feeling of destruction– sabotaging himself over and over again. He wanted to be kinder, to be softer to you, but his guard was up, and it would take a lot more than just his beating heart to drop it.  

“You know why I didn’t fucking answer.” You crossed our arms, continuing, “you didn’t even try to apologize. You just wanted us to move on like it never happened.” 

“Yeah because you’re not my fucking girlfriend, why the fuck should I apologize?” His voice raised, heat building up in his chest. 

“There it is Su,” your tone was a stark contrast to his. Quieter, docile, hurt. “I’m not your girlfriend. I get that. You never fail to remind me.” 

“Okay so why are you being so distant? Because I cockblocked you? Big deal.” Geto knew what he was doing was wrong, the guilt of it all lingered in his throat. He knew his words stung, but that didn’t stop him from saying them. 

“You just don’t get it. The whole point was to stay friends.” You told him, “but the whole time you treated me like I was nothing to you. Like I was just another girl. I thought you’d at least have the decency to be nice.” 

He didn’t know what to respond with. You weren’t some other girl. You were everything. You were right in what you were saying. He had brushed you aside, grumbled at your presence– something he would’ve never done six months ago. But how could he explain it to you? He felt as though he couldn’t even explain it to himself. He wanted to rebuttal your point, but you speak up again. 

“But I see it now. You were always a dick, I just didn’t see it until now. You treat everyone like shit, even your friends. You like having girls wrapped around your finger– like you’re drunk off the attention they give you.” You spoke as though you had planned to say this to him, rehearsed it in the mirror and everything. 

“And you don’t think you were one of those girls? Don’t forget that you jumped onto the opportunity to sleep with me.” As soon as he said it, he regretted it. He went to the bar to tell you that you were different, that the time you spent together meant something. But now he’d dug his own grave, and he could see it on your face, how your face started to drop, eyes becoming wide, glassing over slightly. 

“Fuck you,” you scoffed, voice shaky, trying to pretend that his cruel words didn’t affect you. 

“Shit, I didn’t fucking mean it like that.” He tried to take it back, but the damage was done. You were about to slip off, but he grabbed your arm. “Wait, please, for Christ's sake.” 

“Why are you doing this to me, Su? I really thought you cared about me– even if it was just as friends.” 

“I do,” he finally admitted, taking a step closer. “Look it’s not easy for me to be talking about this shit, but I really wanted to talk to you. To try to fix it.” 

“So why are you so mean?” A tear threatened to fall from your eye, and he felt that familiar guilty pang hit his heart. 

He wondered what was the right thing to do. He couldn’t spill his guts completely, even if that’s what he wanted most. He couldn’t kiss you, he knew that would only make you hate him more. What was he meant to do, then? He wished life was as easy as dreams– wished he could relive that day on the beach where you just understood him, even if he didn’t have the strength to tell you everything that he felt. 

“y/n…”

Cautiously, he brought his hand near your face, cupping it with one hand. He had repeated that action so many times when the two of you were having sex. It was gentle, loving. He hoped you felt it now. His thumb carefully swiped away a stray teardrop as he bit his tongue. Your back was pressed against the wall, his face hovering in front of yours. He was lost in your eyes, staring into them as if they held the world’s secrets. 

Geto was ready to tell you how sorry he was, to let the dam break. He really was– if he wasn’t interrupted. 

“What the fuck?” Before he had a chance to respond he felt a cold fist against his jaw, followed by the sound of you gasping. 

“What the fuck?!” Gojo repeated, only this time louder. Geto clutched the point of impact, stumbling back, watching the way his eyes narrowed. “You have some fucking nerve to come here.” 

“Satoru, what the hell is wrong with you?” You jumped in and your seeming defense of Geto only ticked him off more. 

Gojo wasn’t paying you much attention, though, gaze fixed on his so-called ‘best friend.’ “You knew what I was gonna do, and you came here to fucking ruin it.” 

The white haired boy threw another punch. Geto didn’t bother to defend himself. He wanted to say it isn’t what it looks like, but it was. 

“You’re a fucking asshole.” Another punch, this time to his gut. “You can’t let anyone else be happy, can you? You’re miserable, so you have to make everyone fucking miserable too.” 

“Stop it!” You screamed out, reaching to hold Gojo’s arm, but it was no use. You were pushed in the crossfire, tumbling back against the wall. There was no point. Whatever seemed to be the problem between the two of them, you couldn’t make it stop. 

“You’re a jerk, y’know that? You’re a selfish prick.” Gojo slammed him against the wall, and Geto could only stare into the other man’s eyes, jaw locked despite how it throbbed in pain. 

That’s when Gojo’s head turned to you, “what did he say to you?” 

“Nothing. He didn’t say anything.” You spat, “now let him go, you guys are gonna get the cops called on us.”  Gojo lets go, as if he’s finally come to his senses. Geto huffs, looking over at you once again. You can see his lip is busted, pale skin bruised. His eyes are calm, though, as if he’s lost in thought. You feel your skin crawl, heart racing. What the hell just happened?

taglist: @bunnygorex @iwas-baby @coffee-and-geto @i2s2m @zeunys @murasakiyams @sukunasbigtiddiewifey @izluvsyou @goonforgeto @multistan-247 @chosoclub @idyllicsam @0tsukie @suckkuna @loverzxi @lilbxtchsyndrome @blombat @ll0rona @astrokenny @izluvsyou @saint-boudica @cutehobii @shadyd3ar @getofanclub @suguruswifett @rryujn @kenmacantakemeaway @keiva1000 @reader2004 @hearts-for-asa @siennadoodles @se-phi-roth @cherryredkissez @whimsicalwriting @chewiebee @sugurunugget @bunbun444 [closed]

© all work belongs to nanamisbbygirl on tumblr, please do not plagiarize, repost or translate anywhere

[inkspiredwriting]

The Day of Swapped Powers

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

In the dimly lit basement of the Umbrella Academy, Five Hargreeves and his wife Y/n were elbow-deep in an experimental project. Y/n, with her ability to read minds, and Five, the seasoned time traveler, were working on a device designed to enhance their powers temporarily. It was supposed to be a simple test, but, as with most things involving the Hargreeves family, things quickly spiraled out of control.

"Are you sure this is safe?" Y/n asked, eyeing the array of wires and glowing components skeptically.

Five, ever confident, waved her concern away. "Of course, it’s safe. I’ve triple-checked everything. What could possibly go wrong?"

Those words hung ominously in the air as they activated the device. There was a blinding flash, a strange crackling noise, and then silence.

When the smoke cleared, Y/n and Five blinked at each other in confusion.

"Did it work?" Y/n asked, touching her temples.

Five glanced at his watch, which now displayed an array of random dates and times instead of the usual readings. "I’m not sure. I don’t feel any different."

Just then, Five’s head buzzed with an overwhelming wave of thoughts—Y/n’s thoughts. "Did he forget our anniversary? What if this messes up our abilities permanently? Why does he always have to be so reckless?"

Five’s eyes widened. “Y/n, I can hear your thoughts!”

Y/n stared at him, her eyes widening in shock. “Wait, what? I can’t hear yours anymore!”

Five glanced at the mess of equipment, realization dawning on him. “I think we’ve swapped powers.”

Y/n’s mouth fell open as she processed this. “You mean I can time travel now?”

Five nodded, grimacing. “And I get to hear everyone’s innermost thoughts. Fantastic.”

The next few hours were a comedy of errors as Five and Y/n bumbled through their new abilities.

Y/n stood in the middle of the living room, attempting to blink across the room. She scrunched up her face in concentration, only to find herself standing on top of the coffee table, much to the dismay of Pogo, who was quietly sipping tea.

“Try focusing on where you want to go!” Five shouted from the other side of the room, nursing a headache from the mental chatter of his siblings.

“I’m trying!” Y/n replied, a mix of frustration and determination on her face.

With a deep breath, she managed to blink to the other side of the room—right into a wall. She slid down with a groan, rubbing her nose. “I think I broke something,” she muttered.

Five winced sympathetically, while also struggling to keep Klaus’s incessant mental babble out of his head. "I wonder if I left my sandwich in the fridge or if Luther ate it. Maybe we should have a séance later. Ooh, what’s Five doing?"

Five squeezed his eyes shut. “Klaus, could you please shut up?”

Klaus, lounging on the couch, raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say anything!”

“I heard you thinking,” Five snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And I don’t care about your sandwich.”

Klaus blinked. “Whoa, you’re reading my mind now? That’s… actually kind of creepy. Cool, but creepy.”

The rest of the day was no less chaotic. Five, now unable to block out people’s thoughts, found himself avoiding crowded rooms and anyone remotely agitated. He fled from Luther’s worries about him being a bad Leader, Diego’s brooding thoughts about his love life, and Allison’s musings about her career.

Y/n, meanwhile, was discovering that time travel was far more complicated than it looked. She tried jumping back to the living room, only to end up in her parents' bedroom. Her Mother's screams could be heard throughout the neighborhood

She reappeared in the living room, panting and wide-eyed. “You didn’t tell me there were so many things to consider when jumping!”

Five, who had taken refuge in the kitchen with a pair of noise-canceling headphones, looked at her sympathetically. “Welcome to my world.”

By evening, they had gathered in the living room with the rest of the family for dinner. Five was trying to block out the cacophony of thoughts, while Y/n was gingerly sipping on a glass of wine, hoping to steady her nerves.

“Are you okay?” Viktor asked, noticing Five’s pained expression.

“Just fine,” Five lied through gritted teeth. "When will this dinner end? If I hear one more thought about mashed potatoes, I’m going to scream."

Y/n shot him a sympathetic look. “We need to figure out how to reverse this,” she murmured.

“Agreed,” Five said, wincing as Klaus’s thoughts about unicorns and rainbows floated into his mind.

After dinner, they returned to the basement to work on the device. Y/n, with a newfound appreciation for the complexities of time travel, meticulously followed Five’s instructions. Five, on the other hand, tried not to get distracted by Y/n’s focused thoughts and their shared determination to fix the mess.

“Okay, try activating it now,” Five instructed, holding his breath.

Y/n flipped the switch, and the device whirred to life. There was another blinding flash, and then everything went silent.

They blinked at each other again. Five tentatively tried to blink across the room and succeeded without ending up in a wall. Y/n reached out with her mind, relieved that she could hear the thoughts of the people she loved.

“We’re back to normal,” Y/n said, exhaling in relief.

“Thank God,” Five muttered, rubbing his temples. “I don’t know how you deal with all that mental noise.”

Y/n laughed, stepping forward to hug him. “It’s not easy, but now I understand how much you handle with time travel. I’m impressed.”

Five returned the hug, a smile tugging at his lips. “I have a newfound respect for your abilities too.”

The next day, as Five and Y/n lounged on the couch recovering from their ordeal, Klaus sauntered in, a mischievous grin on his face.

“So, how was your day in each other’s shoes?” he teased, plopping down next to them.

Five rolled his eyes. “Let’s just say, never again.”

Y/n chuckled, squeezing Five’s hand. “It was definitely an experience.”

Klaus’s grin widened. “Maybe next time you can swap bodies instead. That would be hilarious.”

Five and Y/n exchanged horrified looks before bursting into laughter. No matter how crazy things got, they knew they could always count on each other, even if their powers were temporarily on the fritz.

As they cuddled together on the couch, exhausted but happy, Five realized that their love and partnership could withstand any challenge—even a day of swapped powers.

[bullet-prooflove]

Song 2: Jesse Van Horn x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @caffeinatedwoman @cosmic-psychickitty @kmc1989 @happyfox43 @julius-ceasar

Companion piece to

Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll - Jesse tries to convince you not to disrupt your trip during the aftermath of Pittfest.

Drums are therapy for Jesse especially after nightmare shifts like Pittfest.

He likes the delicacy of a guitar, the notes you can wring from it but his real passion has always been the drums because you have to throw your heart and soul into it, you have to feel it to do it.

He slept like shit last night, images of blood and viscera flashing across his mind as he stared at the empty space beside him. It’s worse when you’re not here, you’ve always had this ability to sooth him, to fend off the darkness that creeps in during the dead of night and right now it feels like it’s taking over.

The shower doesn’t help, he still feels groggy and lethargic when he climbs out. He throws on his white ‘The Clash’ tank over black basketball shorts and returns to what’s tried and tested, playing Blur’s Song 2 as loud as he can in his noise cancelling headphones and smashing the hell out of the drum kit.

He spends hours chasing that impossible beat, trying to erase the demons from his mind. He focuses on the intense tapping of the sticks across the canvas as the music vibrates through the very core of his being.

Song 2 is so complex that it’s only ever meant to be played by two drummers, it never stops Jesse trying though. He likes the challenge of it, the way it absorbs him, consumes him.

He doesn’t hear you let yourself in, he doesn’t even sense your presence, he’s too caught up in the motions, his eyes closed, his body running on a muscle memory. It isn’t until your fingers thread through his hair, lightly tugging his head back by his silver curls that he realises you’re in the room. Your hair falls across his features, shielding him away from the rest of the world and he smiles as your mouth seeks out his.

“Hi.” He whispers.

“Hi.” You whisper back.

You’re a force of nature in everything you do, and your kiss is no exception. It’s reckless, passionate and it ignites every single nerve ending inside his body like a bolt of electricity.

His headphones slip off his ears, clattering to the floor as he turns in his stool and raises to his feet, trapping you against the wall behind the drum kit. You grip the fabric of his tank in your fists, tearing it up over his head as he grinds against you urgently. Your fingers roam over the colourful tattoos etched into his back and you moan as you feel his thickness through the silky material of those basketball shorts, rubbing against the seam of your jeans.

“For the love of God, please tell me you took your PrEP while you were away.” He mutters in between kisses, his fingertips unfastening button of your jeans. “I need to be inside you so bad Sugar.”

“Every single day.” You promise, dragging your teeth across his bottom lip as he shoves the denim down your thighs. “Your viral load still under 200?”

“Had the test three days ago, undetectable.” He informs you, tugging off your panties.

That means there’s virtually no chance of HIV transmission so the two of you are ready to rock. You push down his basketball shorts, his cock springing loose and he hisses through his teeth as your hand wraps around him, guiding him to just the right spot.

“Poor baby.” You tease, your wetness rubbing over his sensitive tip. “You haven’t even touched yourself since I’ve been gone have you?”

“You know I like to save it for you.” He mumbles against your mouth. “Make sure you get the full welcome home experience.”

The denial always makes him feral, he gets a little wild, a little unhinged. Just the way you like him.

The first thrust is always the sweetest because of Jesse’s reaction to it, the hue of his eyes darken and he makes that noise, that filthy exhale as he slides home, filling you with every single inch of him. His hand clasps your jaw, thumb swiping against your lower lip before he pushes it inside. You suck it deeper, your eyes on his and his dick twitches inside of you.

“Oh Sugar.” He smiles as you bite down just a little. “I’m gonna fuck you like it’s the end of the god damn world.”

He hoists your legs up around his waist, slamming into you. You cry out, a loud eruption of ecstasy and he follows up with long, hard, strokes that that piston into you, raking over that naughty little spot deep inside. The noises you make, their obscene. Breathy groans, hollered curses and his name, always his name chanted like mantra as you get close, real close, tightening around his dick, gripping it.

His mouth covers yours as you come together, drinking down the rapture as he spills his release inside you, hips jerking as he fucks it deep. His lips ghost over your jaw and down your throat before he places a kiss over the lace geomantic moon at the side of your neck.

“Twenty years and this shit still doesn’t get old.” He chuckles into your ear, his teeth catching on the silver piercing in your lobe, tugging lightly.

You clench around him again and he starts to move slower this time, his arm looping underneath your right knee, hitching it higher so he can deepen the position.

“No babe.” You whisper, your head tipping back against the wall as he hits just the right spot. “It only gets better.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[blackbird5154]

Papa lll's special kung fu

After watching a lot of Terzo footage, I've noticed his amazing talent for turning disadvantages into advantages. And here's what I mean.

▸ If you love Third Era acoustic performances as much as I do, you've probably noticed that very often things went wrong on them. Tangled wires, dropped sound, wrong mic height, forgotten song lyrics 😅 Every time something like that happened, Terzo amused the audience while the problem was fixed, and now we remember those moments as the most touching. He didn't hide the problem, he made fun of it.

▸ Philadelphia Incident, 2015. Pope Francis arrives in town at the same time as Ghost and makes it so they have to cancel the concert. At the next show, Terzo praises the audience for their support and says he is by far the second greatest pope in the world. He says “number two” in such a voice that you absolutely believe that being number two is the coolest and sexiest thing in the world.

▸ March 28th 2017. Papa falls off the stage into the pit and immediately uses this as an opportunity to approach the crowd and hold their hands. Papa, fall more often. Your ass looks really fine.

▸ He almost falls again, but pretends it was part of a dance move.

▸ The legendary hole in the shoe is the result of his ability to turn problems into advantages. Anyone else in his place would have thought, “Damn, my shoe's worn out, now I need a new one. I've got to change it without anyone noticing.” But Terzo thinks about turning it into an event and makes it iconic. Sometimes I think he could be a successful businessman with the most creative ideas. One of those people who can make a fortune from used cans.

▸ How to resolve situation if you passed out during a concert? That's right, compliment the ladies who are so beautiful that you fainted, and make their hearts melt.

Now let's dig a level deeper.

Radley and I have already written quite a bit about the theme of loneliness in Terzo's monologues. It all boils down to the fact that, according to Papa, ghosts can be pretty good company if you're lonely. Here are a couple of telling quotes:

We can't always get what we want. You know that, huh? But one thing that can keep you company in a lonely hour… are the ghosts inside. Let them be your friend rather than your enemy. It's that darkness that sometimes makes the person, eh?

Lawrence, Kansas, USA (October 5, 2015)

And

You have a lot of things in your life, huh? We all crave so many things. If we list… in order to feel as if… we all get all these things and then everything will feel better. Ain't that right? I am exactly the same. But I do know one thing… is that if you have the spirits and the demons inside you that causes a little… wreckage. That can be to your favor. Believe me. An empty shell is nothing, so...

Chicago, Illinois, USA (October 3, 2015)

Usually ghosts are associated with something scary, or they're a metaphor for memories of people you've lost. It sounds like Terzo was able to “win them over” to his side, make them his allies in a lonely hour, turn them from tormentors to trusted companions. Sounds like a profound reinterpretation of the experience of unhappiness. Someday I'll learn to do the same.

A phrase from the classic comes to mind, You have to make the good out of the bad because that is all you have got to make it out of. Maybe Terzo would argue with the second part, but would agree with the first.

▸ [Part 7]

▸ Encyclopedia of Terzo

▸ [Part 9]

[baldbaby69]

𝘐𝘵𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

ᵇᵃᵏᵘᵍᵒ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

Summary: After being kidnapped bakugo finds comfort within your presence until he can’t anymore.

angst

ᴹᵃʸᵇᵉ ᴵ

ᴸᵒˢᵗ ᵐʸ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ. He was scared, petrified even. He didn't know if it would be possible to recover. He was traumatised and it scared him how bad this was effecting him and his ability to reach number one. If he could get scared this easily was he really worthy of becoming a Pro hero?

ᴺᵒ ᵒⁿᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ. Everyone had their eyes on him and he hated it. He was suppose to be strong. He had a reputation but he felt himself shrink under each gaze he fell under because everyone noticed the fear that surrounded him except you.

ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵒˡᵈ. Its been over months and he felt like he couldn't face the world. To him everything was falling apart. He felt like everyone was against him except you.

ᴬˡˡ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ. So he spent the majority of his time at in his dorm room and the weekend at home. Even his own mother began to worry about the boy and it was unusual for her to do so. She tried to talk to him but he never responded to the small talk she would start when she brought his laundry to him. He would just shrug and get back to reading but he felt different when it was you. ('ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵉⁱⁿ' ˡᵒⁿᵉˡʸ)

ᴹᵃʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˡᵒˢᵗ ⁱᵗ. Was he being dramatic? It wasn't his intention to so why did he feel the need to act like this. Like some sad little extra who lost a fight. He wasn't some extra, he was Katsuki Bakugo. The king explosion Murder. He didn't need the pity or have to time to be sad. He had a goal to reach and he would turn to you when he felt like it was getting further from his reach.ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˡᵒˢᵗ ⁱᵗ

ᴺᵒ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵀᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵐʸ ᵉʸᵉˢ. Were things ever going to get back to normal? Or did he just have to blow up everyone till they lost their sight. Until he wasn’t the hot topic anymore. All they would do was whisper amongst each other while he walked down the halls. Or go easy on him while he sparred complaing about how they didn't want to hurt him. Suddenly he was a brittle piece of glass, even a push of wind would blow him away but he felt you would be there to catch him.

ᴺᵒ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ. But not you. Never you. Even before he was kidnapped you would always ask him to teach you some moves and help you with studying and skills. Like he was a role model that you looked up to. That hasn't changed. Now whenever he walked into class his eyes would land on yours first and watched as your face turn from a bored expression to the biggest smile he had ever seen plastered on your face. Even bigger than before. Almost like, you were grateful he was here.

ᵂⁱˢʰ ⁱᵗ ʷᵉʳᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʳᵘᵉ. He didn't like the attention he got but when it was you. He hated it. He hated having you seeing him in this state. He wanted to hide somewhere you would never find him but you always did. But something about the way you looked at him was different. When he would make eye contact with your gaze, he wish he could drown in them. It was like it was a safe space for him. Just for him and he hated it just as much as he hated you.

ᴹᵃʸᵇᵉ ᴵ. So he cancelled your Sunday study sessions and went home for the weekend. Did you care? nope. Your knuckles bruised against his family home door as you'd wait to be let in by his mom who would always welcome you with a warm hug. She would lead you to his room and close the door behind her as she left you two to stay in the silence Bakugo was already drowning in. Some days you would sit in his chair and do your study sessions without speaking at all and other days you would lay on his bed and talk about anything that came across your mind. You never realised because you were so deep into speaking your thoughts out loud that he was actually watching you with his back against his head board. He would pretend to be nose deep into the book he was reading but in reality he was knees deep into the flower filled garden your voice led him to. Made him feel like as long as you were there nothing could go wrong. (ᴵ'ᵈ ᵏⁱⁿᵈᵃ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵐᵉ)

ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ. Until he felt like an addict. On the Sundays you wouldn't come and he felt worried. Did you get bored of him? Did your payment stop coming in to babysit him? Did you find someone else to manipulate with your stupid smile. On Sundays when you would come over the two of you would catch the last train back to U.A after having dinner with his family. But not for the past few weeks. He started from waiting in his room with the door slightly open for the little knocks you would throw and his mothers outbursts of excitement to have you over to waiting in the living room closer to the door to hear your little steps walk up to his house. To stop waiting at all. ('ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵒⁿᵉˡʸ)

ᴹᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ. He had half the mind to take you back to his home and keep you in his room forever. It made him feel very weird. He never understood why he felt like this. In school you acted fine. Ate lunch with him and his friends while laughing obnoxiously loud that would make every head turn towards your table. Maybe thats what made him tolerate you. Your need to not give a care in the world to what was happening around you. He never realised when the feeling of being around you made him feel safe started. Maybe it was when your face was the first one he saw after being trapped for hours. You busted through those doors without any trouble and knocked down whatever came between your mission to save him. He always knew about your ambition to become a pro hero. To you being a hero didn't come with ranks. A hero is a hero. No matter how many villains you defeat or civilians you save. It was about the intention you stride with. To make the world a better place and make people feel safe. Thats just what you did to him. You made his world a better place and you made him feel safer with every moment you spent by his side.

ᵀᵃᵏᵉ ᵒᵘʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ. He felt the distance that was coming between you with every second that passed. You sat beside him in class and every morning would bite his ear off with random words that came out your mouth to form sentences. He would never make sense of them though because he was busy watching you wave your hands around as you talked so passionately or watching your facial expressions as your judgement face would gossip about those around you. But everything stopped. He would walk into class and you would even look up from that stupid phone in your hand. Once he sat down beside you, you would whisper a sweet good morning without even making eye contact. He never replied but he needed to see your eyes. Have your eyes looking at him and making him feel safe. So one morning when you were busy, eyes glued to the device in your hand. He managed to grunt a quick hello before you. He watched your head flick up and whip around to watch him put his bag down and plop into his seat. Your smile made the apples on your cheek rise, head tilted you returned the phrase and went back onto your phone. He wanted to grab your chair and make you look at him directly and yell the top of his lungs about how you made him feel like an idiot but he chose not to. He chose to watch you scroll on your phone and occasionally aggressively type a few words. Your own hand came up and tucked a few strands behind your ear, something he always wanted to do. This gave him a clear view of your side profile. He noticed your bottom lips in between your teeth and how your brows would furrow when you got confused about something. This became a routine. Every morning he would come into class and greet you then lay his head on his hand and sit there staring at you until Aizawa came in. It was hard not to notice the hot head beside you boring into your soul but you chose to ignore it. Not wanting to cause anymore pain.

ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ, ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ, ᵇᵃᵇᵉ. To your surprise it was an emotion the two of you had in common. It was the first day that Bakugo had walked into class and noticed a huge circle of students around your desk. He stopped in his tracks. Only the worst coming to mind. He pushed past the crowd to see about a dozen of gift bags addressed to each student in the class. The students felt it was best to wait till a grown up came and explained what was going on. He sat in his own desk beside yours. His head turned to the bags and one caught his eye. It had his name written in that crazy font of your own handwriting. He would always get mad at you because he never could understand what you wrote. When Aizawa had entered the class with the principle he knew something had gone wrong. The class was told about you. How you just picked up and left without even looking at him properly for the last time. Apparently your parents thought it would be best to get you out of a dangerous place for your own safety. Bakugo scoffed. He could just imagine the fight you put up and the arguments you had to try and stay. He knew you.

ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵉ ᶠˡʸ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜⁱᵗʸ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ.

He went home that evening. With the stupid gift bag you left for everyone. Couldn't even make him feel special. Made him feel like everyone else. He sat in his room and looked at the sparkling red bag in front of him. He sighed before he took it in his lap and looked inside. A note, how convenient, along with a box, hand cream and a hoodie that you had taken from him a while back. As he pulled the items out a smell came along with it, your smell. He opened the box and took out a polaroid picture you put into it. It was a picture of him sitting at his desk in the classroom and you behind him with a smile he hadn't seen for weeks. Your arms were laced around his shoulders and your chin resting on his head. Which led him to look at himself. His usual normal scowl and eyebrows joined together in annoyance. He remembered Kirishima taking this picture a few days prior to the incident. He remembered the days he felt like a king, like a leader of the pack and now he felt like someone who needed to be protected. He turned the polaroid around to see your cursive writing spelling out '𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝓎 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐸𝓍𝓅𝓁𝑜𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝑀𝓊𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓇' He looked back into the box and pulled out a black beaded bracelet, something that looked hand made. It had a gold charm of a crown in between two beads. Hence the king. He found himself huffing out laughs at how idiotic you are, or were. He put the bracelet on his wrist and looked at it. It felt like your tiny hand wrapped around his wrists. He remembered how that felt when you would grab him and drag him to your next class or to the library to study. Was he ever going to be able to have those moments again? His eyes fell upon the note.

“I’m sorry. for not letting you guys know before hand but I’m leaving or left when you have read this but I just wanted to tell you guys that i’m so grateful for every moment we have spent together and will forever remember you guys. I hope you’ll be able to forgive me for not letting you know about this sooner but I wouldn’t be able to leave if i had. Thank you guys for being my friends and I wish you the best.”

He hated you even more now. You had typed this for everyone. He felt stupid for thinking you had somehow made his one special until he turned the note around. It was your handwriting. He never thought he would feel this happy to see your hand writing.

ℋℯ𝓎 𝒷𝒶𝓀𝓊ℊℴ, ℐ 𝒽ℴ𝓅ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒹ℴ𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓌ℯ𝓁𝓁, 𝓌ℯ𝓁𝓁 𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ ℐ 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝒹ℴ𝓊𝒷𝓉𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝒷𝓊𝓉 ℐ 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉ℯ𝒹 𝓉ℴ 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 ℐ'𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓎ℴ𝓊. ℐ 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓅𝒶𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓊𝓅 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻ℴ𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒽ℴℴ𝒹𝒾ℯ 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓇ℴ𝒷ℯ 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓇ℯ𝓂ℯ𝓂𝒷ℯ𝓇ℯ𝒹 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒸ℴ𝓂𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝒶𝒷ℴ𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝒷ℯ𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃ℊ. 𝒴ℴ𝓊 𝒶𝓁𝓈ℴ 𝒸ℴ𝓂𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓃ℯ𝒹 𝒶𝒷ℴ𝓊𝓉 yℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈 𝒷ℯ𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓇ℴ𝓊ℊ𝒽 𝒶𝓃𝒹 ℐ 𝓇ℯ𝓂ℯ𝓂𝒷ℯ𝓇 𝓉ℯ𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓉ℴ 𝓊𝓈ℯ 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓂 ℐ 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓁𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ𝒹 𝒾𝓉 𝓉ℴℴ. 𝒜𝓁𝓉𝒽ℴ𝓊ℊ𝒽 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒻ℴ𝓇 ℊ𝒾𝓇𝓁𝓈, ℐ 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒶ℊℯ𝒹 𝓉ℴ ℊℯ𝓉 𝓎ℴ𝓊 ℴ𝓃ℯ 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓁𝒾ℯ𝓇 𝓈𝓂ℯ𝓁𝓁. ℋℴ𝓅ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ 𝒾𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 ℐ 𝒽ℴ𝓅ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ𝒹 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝓇𝒶𝒸ℯ𝓁ℯ𝓉. ℐ 𝒹ℴ𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉ℴ 𝒷ℯ 𝒸𝒽ℯℯ𝓈𝓎 ℴ𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃ℊ. ℐ 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝓅𝓇ℴ𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓁𝓎 𝒸𝓇𝒾𝓃ℊ𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓇𝒾ℊ𝒽𝓉 𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌 ℐ 𝓌ℴ𝓃'𝓉 ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇 𝒻ℴ𝓇ℊℯ𝓉 𝓎ℴ𝓊. ℬℯ 𝓈𝒶𝒻ℯ 𝒦𝒶𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓀𝒾.

ᴴᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ, ᶜᵒⁿˢᵒˡᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵗʳᵃᶜᵉ. You really wanted to believe you were doing this for him but really you were doing it for yourself. You were selfish. You thought over stepping on Bakugos boundaries was going to help you over come the constant nightmares you were having. About him being kidnapped and having him being taken away from you. You knew Bakugo was always like how he is. You heard stories from Midoriya and Kirishima would love to make you laugh with his embarrassing ones but nothing had seem to really bother you. You knew you liked him but when he got kidnapped it gave you a reality check. Having him being taken away made you realise You wouldn’t be able to live without him if it continued like this. He would eventually break your heart. Forgetting about everything you saved him anyway because you would do anything for love. When he returned you knew that he would need space and time to heal but each second that you would give him that space you would feel like he was being taken away again. You lost sleep over this silly thing and you needed to do something. So you went to his house and forced yourself to be around him. Whether it was at his home or in class and especially in training. You would go extra hard on him. You wanted him to physically hurt you as much as it emotionally hurt you to even think about being away from him. You wanted him to physically push you away. You wanted him to scream at you to leave him alone because if he didn't, you'd still be attaching yourself to him like a lost puppy. Thats why when your parents brought up the idea to move to some place safer you agreed straight away. You couldn't deal with this anymore. You need to stop being so selfish and giving bakugo such a hard time. You were well aware of how capable he is to take care of himself. You stopped going to his house because you didn't want his mother to get used to you. You slowly distanced from all your friends and spent more time into looking into the new city you were moving to. It was at least 4 hours away and apart of you was relieved because the longer you'd stay here the more of your heart would start to shatter.

ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ, ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ, ᵇᵃᵇᵉ.

Author's Note

inspiration by the song No one Noticed by the maria. i’ve been feeling the need to read more angst lately so here you go. should there be a part 2?

[magicalqueennightmare]

Movie Night

John Walker x Mutant Reader (nicknamed Nyx due to mutation being the ability to control shadows)

A bad storm ends in an impromptu movie night between you and John

The first loud rumble was enough to wake John up out of a dead sleep. He hated thunderstorms. It sounded too much like bad memories, stirred up too much stuff in his head. Another loud rumble crackled and he flinched despite himself.

What a man he was, afraid of a little storm. After a while of sitting there, covering his ears and trying desperately to ignore it, he realized he forgot his headphones in the common area so he tossed his blanket off his legs so he could go in search of them. The hope was maybe just maybe the noise cancelling would work enough so he could forget the slight shake to the tower from the force of the storm raging outside.

He stepped into the hallway and walked through the empty corridors. The wind whistled by the tower, the rain pelting the window in torrents. Out here the sound of the thunder was even worse. Did it effect Bucky like this or did the years of torture Hydra forced on him dull the effects of war?

Not like he was going to ask him. Their relationship wasn’t exactly to the point of sharing gory details of the time they’d both spent serving in the army, different wars but same hell. He tried to steer clear of any conversation along that line with any of the team. No one really cared to see his side of anything, not that he blamed them. He’d done so much wrong but now? Now it was like everything he’d endured was for nothing. His record wiped as if he’d never served. He at least had the knowledge of the hostages he’d saved. That was one thing he knew he’d done right. Those days with Lemar at his side.

He walked into the common area and spotted his headphones on the coffee table so he plucked them up and was about to head back to bed, flinching when a particularly loud crash sounded from the storm when you walked around the corner and froze. “Oh, hey John” 

You had ventured out of your room to refill your water bottle and were headed back when you turned the corner and John was standing there. You hadn’t missed the flinch from the soldier when a loud crash of thunder had sounded. Guilt washed over you because you loved when it stormed. You found it peaceful. Christ it must be hell for him. You’d never even considered it, you could have used your shadows to somewhat muffle the sounds from his room, make it a bit more bearable.

“Hey sweetheart” he greeted after a moment. You waved your bottle of water towards the window “Hell of a storm huh?” he scoffed “Yeah, hell is a word for it” he looked back at you “Sorry. I know you like this weather” you shrugged “I um I was gonna watch some movies. There’s some cheesy horror movie marathon on. Want to keep me company?”

John stood there for a moment staring at you. Were you taking pity on him or just offering? After a moment when you hadn’t flinched or rescinded the invitation he shrugged “Sure” you smiled brightly “Ok then, come on” you walked closer to him and about the time you grabbed his hand another loud rumble of thunder went through the air and he knew you felt the slight tremble. He expected you to tease him but instead your hand tightened around him “You know I’m normally wide awake during storms and I love company” you spoke as you pulled him behind you towards your room.

John followed you and felt almost like a stray dog someone found sniffing for scraps. You pushed open your door and tugged him inside “Bed is all ready, it’s stacked with pillows and blankets” 

He stopped just inside your door while you walked over, adjusting the pile of pillows you’d made for yourself to accommodate two. “You sure I’m not intruding?” he asked and you looked over your shoulder at him “I wouldn’t have asked”

You climbed onto the bed and patted the spot next to you. He walked over and sat down, a crash of thunder causing you to click the tv on and shoot him a smile “Let’s get it started”

The storm kept raging but little by little he found himself relaxing. He realized the storm was quieting and the corners of the room were getting darker at the same time.  He cut his eyes down at you as you shifted closer to him, a small yawn escaping you. “You good honey?” you nodded “I’m fine” you motioned to the screen “I’m actually not too big of a fan of this movie however, the dude is a little too freaky”

He started laughing “Oh come on, you could kick his ass five times over without even using your shadows” you shrugged “But he gives me the creeps” he shook his head and lifted his arm “Come on sweetheart. I’ll protect ya” you rolled your eyes but shimmied closer to him, laying your head on his chest “Thank you John” he pressed a soft kiss to your hairline “Yeah, thank you too”  “What for?” you asked quietly and he chuckled “I know you’re staying awake until the storm passes to keep the sounds muted. No one has ever done anything like that for me” 

You cut your eyes up at him with a smile “If I can help make anything in your life more bearable I’m going to try John. You’re not as big of an asshole as you give yourself credit for. My door is always open for you” then laid your head down on his chest, eyes returning to the screen. 

After a moment of the only noise filling the room being the sounds of the man screaming as he was slaughtered on the tv you added teasingly “You’re a decent kisser too” he shook his head “Good to know Nyx, good to know and just so you know my door is always open for you too” 

Maybe just maybe he could learn to like storms after all or at least tolerate them if they meant movie nights with you in his arms. 

In It Together

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Bankruptcy is very, very good

On THURSDAY (June 20) I'm live onstage in LOS ANGELES for a recording of the GO FACT YOURSELF podcast. On FRIDAY (June 21) I'm doing an ONLINE READING for the LOCUS AWARDS at 16hPT. On SATURDAY (June 22) I'll be in OAKLAND, CA for a panel and a keynote at the LOCUS AWARDS.

There's a truly comforting sociopathy snuggled inside capitalism ideology: if markets are systems for identifying and rewarding virtue, ability and value, then anyone who's failing in the system is actually unworthy, not unlucky; and that means the winners are not just lucky (and certainly not merely selfish), but actually the best and they owe nothing to their social inferiors apart from what their own charitable impulses dictate.

It's an economic wrapper around the old theological doctrine of providence, whereby God shows you whom he favors by giving them wealth and station, and marks out the wicked by miring them in poverty. And like the religious belief in providence, the capitalist belief in meritocracy is essential to resolving cognitive dissonance: it lets the fed winners feel morally justified in stepping over the starving losers.

The debate over merit and luck has been with us for millennia, and even the hereditary absolute monarchs of the Bronze Age had to find a way to resolve it. For the rulers of antiquity, the way to square that circle was jubilee.

Bronze Age jubilees were periodic celebrations in which all debts were canceled. Different kingdoms had different schedules for jubilees, but imagine some mix of "every x years" and "every time a new ruler takes the throne" and "every time something really portentous happens." To modern sensibilities, the idea that we would simply wipe away all debts every now and again is almost inconceivable. Why would any society practice jubilee? More importantly, how could a ruler get the wealthy creditor class to countenance a jubilee, rather than seeking a revolutionary overthrow?

The best answers to this question can be found in the scholarship of historian Michael Hudson, who has written extensively on the subject. Hudson doesn't just write for a scholarly audience, he's also a fantastic communicator with a real commitment to bringing his research to lay audiences:

https://michael-hudson.com/

Hudson's most famous saying is "debts that can't be paid, won't be paid." It's in this dense little nugget that we can find the answer the the riddle of jubilee:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/29/jubilance/#debt

Let's start with a simple model of debt and credit in an agricultural society. In agricultural societies, everything exists downstream of farming, which is the core activity of the civilization. If the farmers succeed, everyone can eat, and that means they can do all the other things, all the not-farming work of your society.

To farm successfully, you need credit. Farmers enter the growing season in need of inputs: seed, fertilizer, labor; they need still more labor during the harvest. Without some way to acquire these inputs before the farmer has a crop that can pay for them, there can be no crop.

No wonder, then, that the earliest "money" we have a record of is ancient Babylonian credit ledgers that record the debts of farmers who borrow against the next crop to pay for the materials and labor they'll need to grow it. Debt, not barter, is the true origin of money. The fairy tale that coin money arose spontaneously to help bartering marketgoers facilitate trade has no historical evidence, while Babylonian ledgers can be seen in person in museums all over the world.

Farming requires an enormous amount of skill, but even the most skillful farmer is a prisoner of luck. No matter how good you are at farming, no matter how hard you work, no matter how carefully you plan, you can still lose a harvest to blight, drought, storms or vermin.

So over time, every farmer loses a crop. When that happens, the farmer can't pay off their debts and must roll them over and pay them off with future harvests. That means that over time, the share of each harvest the farmer has claim to goes down. Thanks to compounding interest, no bumper crop can erase the debts of the bad harvests.

That means that, over time, "farmer" becomes a synonym for "debtor." Farmers' productive output is increasingly claimed by the rich and powerful. No matter how badly everyone needs food, the whims of the hereditary creditor class come to dictate the country's agricultural priorities. More ornamental flowers for the tables of the wealthy, fewer staple crops for the masses. "Creditor" and "debtor" no longer describe economic relations – they become hereditary castes.

That's where jubilee comes in. Without some way to interrupt this cycle of spiraling debt, society becomes so destabilized that the system collapses:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/08/jubilant/#construire-des-passerelles

In other words: debts that can't be paid, won't be paid. Either you wipe away the farmers' debts to the creditor class, or your society collapses, and with it, the political relations that made those debts payable.

Jubilee is long gone, but that doesn't mean that debts that can't be paid will get paid. Modern society has filled the jubilee gap with bankruptcy, a legal process for shriving a debtor of their debts.

Bankruptcy takes many forms. The most important split in bankruptcy types is between elite bankruptcy and the bankruptcy of the common person. The limited liability company was created to allow people with money to pool their funds to back corporations without being responsible for their debts. This "capital formation" is considered "efficient" by economists because it creates the backing for big, ambitious projects, from colonizing and extracting the wealth of distant lands (Hudson's Bay Company) to spinning up global manufacturing supply chains (Apple).

Limited liability means that companies can take on debt without exposing their investors to risks beyond their capital stake. If you buy $1,000 worth of Apple stock, that's all you stand to lose if Apple makes bad decisions. Apple may rack up billions in liabilities – say, by abusing its subcontractor workforce – but Apple's owners aren't on the hook for it.

Economists like this because it means that you can invest in Apple without having to be privy to its daily management decisions, which means that Apple can accumulate huge pools of capital, "lever them up" by borrowing even more, and then put all that money to work on R&D, product development, marketing, and, of course, "incentives" for key employees and managers.

But limited liability also does a lot of work in the political sphere. Once an individual crosses a certain wealth threshold, they become an LLC. Accountants and wealth managers and financial planners insist on this. For freelancers and other sole practitioners, the benefits of forming an LLC are modest – a few more tax write-offs and the ability to get a business credit-card with slightly superior perks.

But for the truly wealthy, transforming yourself into the "natural person" at the center of a vast pool of LLCs is essential because it allows you to accumulate and shed debts. You can secretly own rental properties and abuse your tenants, accumulate vast liabilities as local authorities pile fine upon fine, and then simply dispose of the LLC and its debts. Plan this gambit carefully enough and the debtor LLC will have no assets in its bankruptcy estate apart from the crumbling apartment building, and its most senior secured creditor will be another of your LLCs. This lets the slumlord move an apartment block from one pocket to another, leaving the debt behind.

For the corporate person, shedding debts through bankruptcy is an honorable practice. Far from being a source of shame, the well-timed, well-structured bankruptcy is just evidence of financial acumen. Think of the private equity looters who buy a company by borrowing against it, pay themselves a huge "special dividend," then wipe away the debt by taking the company bankrupt (which also lets them shed obligations to suppliers, workers, and especially, retirees and their pensions). As Trump (a serial bankrupt who has stiffed legions of contractors and creditors) would say, "That makes me smart."

The apotheosis of elite bankruptcy is found in massive corporate bankruptcies, in which a corporation kills and maims huge numbers of people, then maneuvers to get its case heard in one of three US federal courtrooms where specialist judges rubber-stamp "involuntary third-party releases" that wipe out the company's obligations to it victims for pennies on the dollar, while the company gets to keep billions:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/29/impunity-corrodes/#morally-bankrupt

This process was so flagrantly abused by companies like Johnson & Johnson (which spent years knowingly advising women to dust their vulvas with asbestos-tainted talc, creating an epidemic of grotesque and lethal genital cancers) that it is finally generating some scrutiny and pushback:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/01/j-and-j-jk/#risible-gambit

But the precarious state of elite bankruptcies has more to do with the personal corruption of the small cabal of judges who run the system than public outrage over their rulings; like that one judge in Texas who was secretly fucking the lawyer whose clients he was also handing hundreds of millions of dollars to:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/16/texas-two-step/#david-jones

Certainly, we don't hear much about the "moral hazard" of allowing the Sackler opioid family to keep as much as ten billion dollars in the family's offshore accounts while walking away from the victims of their drug-pushing empire, no matter what bizarre tricks they deploy in pulling off the stunt:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/11/justice-delayed/#justice-redeemed

But when it comes to canceling the debts of normal people, the "moral hazard" is front and center. If you're a person who borrowed $79k in student loans, paid back $190k and still owe $236k, we can't cancel your debt, because of the message that would send to other people who want to (checks notes) get an education:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/04/kawaski-trawick/#strike-debt

The anti-jubilee side also wants us to think of the poor creditors: who would loan money to the next generation of students if student debt cancellation was a possibility? Of course, these are federally guaranteed loans, risk-free, free money for people who already have money, a kind of UBI for the people who need it least. The idea that this credit pool would dry up if you were limited to only collecting the debts that can be paid – rather than insisting that debts that can't be paid still be paid – elevates the hereditary creditor class to a kind of fragile, easily frightened, endangered species.

But the most powerful arguments against bankruptcy are rooted in the idea of providence. In an efficient market, anyone who goes bankrupt was necessarily reckless. They were entrusted with credit they weren't entitled to, because they lacked the intrinsic merit that would let them manage that credit wisely. Letting them walk away from their debts means that they will never learn from their mistakes, and that their fellow born-to-be-poors will learn the wrong thing from those debts: that there's an easy life in borrowing, spending, and discharging your debts in bankruptcy.

As it happens, this is an empirically testable proposition. If this view of personal bankruptcy as a personal failure is correct, then people who go bankrupt and live to borrow again should end up bankrupt again, too. On the other hand, if we accept the jubilee view – that debt is the result of accumulated misfortunes, often including the misfortune of birth into poor station – then bankruptcy represents a second chance with an opportunity to dodge misfortune.

In a new study from IZA Institute of Labor Economics's Gustaf Bruze, Alexander Kjær Hilsløv and Jonas Maibom, we get just such an empirical analysis. It's called "The Long-Run Effects of Individual Debt Relief," and it examines the lives of people for a full quarter-century after a bankruptcy:

https://docs.iza.org/dp17047.pdf

The study follows Danish bankruptcies following the introduction of continental Europe's first modern bankruptcy system, which Denmark instituted in 1984. Prior to that, the Danes – like most of Europe – did not allow for a discharge of personal debt through bankruptcy. Instead, a debtor who went bankrupt would be expected to have about 20% of their lifetime wages garnished to pay back their creditors, until the debts were repaid or they died (whichever came first).

After 1984, Denmark bankruptcy system imported features of US/UK/Commonwealth bankruptcy, including the ability to restructure and discharge your debts. Not everyone is eligible for this kind of bankruptcy: there's a bureaucratic system that verifies that people seeking bankruptcy discharge don't have a lot of assets that could go to their creditors.

But for the (un)lucky people who qualify for bankruptcy discharges, there's a fascinating natural experiment in which the fortunes of people who see debt relief can be compared to bankrupt people who couldn't get their debts wiped out.

It turns out that the Bronze Age has a thing or two to teach us. Here's the headline finding: people who discharge their debts in bankruptcy experience "a large increase in earned income, employment, assets, real estate, secured debt, home ownership, and wealth that persists for more than 25 years after a court ruling."

After people are given the benefits of bankruptcy, they are less likely to rely on public benefits. They get better jobs. Their families live better lives. Their creditors get some of their money back (which is all they can realistically expect, since "debts that can't be paid, won't be paid").

As Jason Kilborn writes for Credit Slips, "the benefits of debt relief are not only substantial but robust, as debtors learn their lesson (if there was one to learn) about managing their finances, and they capitalize (literally) on their fresh start."

Score one for the luck-based theory of wealth, and minus one for the providential meritocracy hypothesis.

Americans should take note of these findings. After all, Danes are insulated from the leading American cause of bankruptcy: medical debts. In America, breaking a bone or getting cancer or even kidney stone can wipe out a lifetime of hard work, careful planning and prudential spending. The US refuses to seriously grapple with this problem. The best we can come up with is the (welcome, but tiny) step of banning credit bureaux from trashing your credit score because of your medical debt:

https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/statements-releases/2024/06/11/fact-sheet-vice-president-harris-announces-proposal-to-prohibit-medical-bills-from-being-included-on-credit-reports-and-calls-on-states-and-localities-to-take-further-actions-to-reduce-medical-debt/

Millennia ago, everyone understood that debts that can't be paid, won't be paid, and they created a system for discharging debts and freeing productive people from the tyranny of accumulated liabilities, to the benefit of all. Dismantling that system required us to invent an elaborate theological system and dress it up in economic language.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/17/lovilee-jubilee/#debts-that-cant-be-paid-wont-be-paid

[copperbadge]

[ID: A screengrab of an app, with the heading "2024"; beneath the heading is an image of a grid decorated to look like a grassy field, covered with little digital plants such as trees, cacti, and toadstools. In the corner is a count of the plants, 117, and also the number one to indicate one real tree has been planted.]

Duolingo, for all its faults, has been really helpful for learning Italian, because it gamifies it exactly at the level I want. But it's also stalled in terms of what it can teach me; I've completed all the modules and it has started to become simply repetitive drilling. I decided I'd go off the paid subscription when the year is up, because I can do flashcards and translation on my own, and I wanted to find new ways to gamify that so that I would keep at it.

Enter Forest! When you want to focus on something, you open the app, set the amount of time you want to focus, and "plant" the timer. It basically locks your phone to a handful of apps (you can select which ones) so that you either have to focus outside of your phone, or focus on the apps you've allowed. If you successfully spend the entire time without "cancelling" the plant, it gets added to the grid. It also awards you coins which you can use to buy new kinds of plants, but slowly enough that you have to work a little for them. There's also a "friends" function where you can friend and compete with others, although I haven't explored that yet.

For me it's useful because it locks me out of stuff I shouldn't deal with while I'm studying, preventing me from, for example, feeling guilty that I haven't responded to a text immediately. It also gives me a little dopamine hit when my plant grows successfully, and unlike some other apps I looked at, once your plant has grown, you don't have to do anything further -- there's no maintenance, per se, which keeps it from getting overwhelming. It's primarily useful to me as a way of rewarding myself for doing something daily, which I will need once I'm not getting night owl chests and streak rewards from Duolingo. I've been on Forest long enough now that I know it'll work for me so I thought I'd recommend it.

Forest has a free version, but a lot of the features I wanted (custom tags, the ability to create a library of favorite settings, etc) were only in the paid version. That was a bummer until I looked at the cost of the paid version which was literally a one-time payment of $3. So I paid the $3 and honestly, more than worth it.

I use it for everything from locking me down while I'm doing my ADHD video game to timing how long I spend on writing and crafts to rewarding myself for doing my Italian lessons and breathing meditation.

[askagamedev]

When do you think the industry will go back to "normal" and what are some signs that that is going to happen?. I mean, studios stabilizing financially, AAA games franchises not getting canceled anymore, reducing the amount of layouts happening. I just saw the news of EA firing 300+ people and possibly cancelling Titanfall 3. Is there any hope that this is going to get better, or this is already the new normal?

Things will contract until they reach equilibrium. There have been bad times before (most recently the 2007-2012 Great Financial Crisis era) where everything contracted for a while, and eventually things turned around again. The main issue is that the nothing exists in a vacuum. The greater international economic situation is causing significant uncertainty. The tariff situation is only one factor in this - there's was also significant over-investment in games between 2020-2022, which then led to this correction in the total number of sustainable projects and staff, the tech industry at large having a lot of trouble, the global interest rates rising that made it difficult to borrow money and thus try new things, AI threatening to replace human workers, and a thousand other issues.

You've probably noticed that a lot of these cancellations are "incubation" projects. Incubation projects are the new game ideas that aren't going to ship for several years. They're often still in the extremely early stages of development, still figuring out what the core of the game will be, and nowhere near ready to play or even show. When your house is in order and things are good, you can think about how you want to remodel the kitchen or build out a patio. When your house is on fire, those plans for the kitchen remodel are a lot less important.

Things will continue to get worse until we reach a state where things are sustainable again. I have no idea when that will be and I sincerely sympathize with all of the unfortunate victims of the waves of layoffs. Unfortunately, we as individuals lack the ability to affect the international situation very much. All we can do is keep moving forward. We level up, we work on self-improvement, and we try to do better with the opportunities we currently have. Take care of yourselves, we're all in for a bumpy ride for the next few years.

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[harmonyloveangels1990]

Open Body Control RP (Female or Futa only)

Roxanne was putting on the new outfit she had gotten for her husband. She couldn't wait to show it off and hopes that tonight is the night they can conceive a child. Unaware your muse, who has been stalking her has a body control ability. Allowing them to take over her body, while keeping her mind intact to see what happens.

"I'm hoping Max will get here in time from the airport. He'll be here tonight and once he does, I'll have everything ready," said Roxanne unaware that her husband's plane got canceled and won't be back till tomorrow night.

((Have fun and break her))