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kiss-me-cill-me · 7 months

Note

i’m not sure if anon has already requested a character for that song but if ur up for it CAN WE HAVE THAT SONG WITH JONATHAN CRANE. also i just listened to that song for the first time in like 3 years and got major deja vu lmao 😭

also ps i love u and ur writing !!!

This is related to another ask from an anon, requesting a fic based off of Katy Perry's song, The One That Got Away. I am so sorry to both of you that it's taken me forever to write this, but thank you for your patience and support <3

Now We Pay The Price | Pt. 1

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Life hasn't turned out exactly the way you wanted it to. Isolated and distraught as you watch time slip by while you sit, trapped in Arkham, your only wish is to recapture the way that things used to be.

Warnings: Angst, whump, sexual themes but no explicit smut, mental health themes, obsession, unhealthy relationship dynamics, mention of needles, mention of sedatives, unrequited love, established past romantic relationship, ambiguity

A/N: I hardly ever write angst, so please be gentle with me lol. But with the song inspo, I couldn't help but go in that direction. Slightly nervous to post this, but also happy that I've branched out from my comfort zone a bit!

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Lying on your stomach, feet in the air, you stretched the thin cotton sheets with your hand. Just enough to give them the tension you needed to glide a ballpoint pen over the fabric, scratching over and over the same mark to make it appear complete. This was far from the perfect medium for doodling - but sheets were what you had, and so they were what you used.

Even the pen was contraband. You knew you weren’t supposed to have it. What anyone thought you’d do with it… honestly, you had no idea. As if you could use a pen for anything other than what you were wrapped up in doing now - carefully and determinedly drawing hearts.

You stopped to rest your head for a moment on the pitifully thin pillow. Across the room, blank white concrete stared back at you. Day in, day out. Endless. The same room with the same walls.

Picking up the pen again, you placed the tip right in between the lobes of one of the many hearts. Scratch, scratch, scratch. A messy, zig-zagging line bisected the doodle.

Broken.

You sighed, and started to color a different heart, filling it with blue ink that didn’t seem very inclined to stick to the bed sheets. It was slow going. The deep azure tint reminded you of deoxygenated blood, like you would see in a textbook diagram. Once the heart was completely filled, you moved dutifully on to the next.

A rustling at your door made you jump. Quickly, you stuffed the pen under your pillow, and turned up the sheets to hide your drawings. It wouldn’t be very good for you if anybody saw them.

You sat up, arranging your rumpled jumpsuit as neatly as you could. Leather straps hung off the sides of your bed, and you spared them a glance, bristling at the memories of having them lashed over your body.

The metal door slid open slowly, until you could finally see…

Him. Your heart skipped a beat and a half as he stepped stiffly into the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He didn’t make a show of locking it, but it was still all too hard to miss the way his hand stopped short at the keyhole, before slipping into his pocket.

“Jonathan. I’m so glad-”

“Don’t call me that,” he bristled. “In here, we don’t know each other. Please. You always forget that.”

“...Dr. Crane,” you corrected yourself.

His tone was so bitter that you could feel it in the very back of your throat, trying to claw its way down to your heart. You swallowed, trying to bite back the taste.

“I’m sorry. I was just happy to see you.” You smiled, pushing through your discomfort, for his sake.

Crane was clearly agitated. He took a few steps into the room, before turning around and facing the door. For one brief moment, you couldn’t see his face, until finally he turned back. His eyes were ice as they stared down at you.

“Do you have any idea how difficult you’ve been making things for me?” he spat.

The accusation hurt, of course. Though you knew very well what he meant. You had been acting out, more than usual, as of late. And although it wasn’t without a purpose, you could see that it was wearing him thin. But… how else were you supposed to see each other?

Arkham Asylum wasn’t exactly known for its model patients. It took a lot to get Dr. Crane’s attention.

“If we spent more time together, I wouldn’t be so difficult,” you replied, trying to keep your tone even.

Crane pinched the bridge of his nose, in that way that you were well acquainted with. He’d always had that habit. Back when you’d first met, you had loved making him get frustrated - just enough for a laugh. Some things never changed.

“You’re really backing me into a corner,” Crane sighed. “And I really wish you wouldn’t.”

“Let’s talk,” you offered, patting the bed. “That’s what you’re here for, right?”

Crane, reluctantly, sat down. You could sense his exhaustion in the way that he almost collapsed onto the bed, hands gripping the edge for support. You inched a bit closer, enough so that your knees touched briefly. Crane pulled away.

You wanted to reach out; put a hand on his shoulder, just like you’d done so many times before. He used to like it when you touched him. Sometimes, you liked to think that yours was the only gentle embrace that he had ever known. Maybe it was silly, but the thought of it always made you feel better.

Now, Crane’s eyes held nothing but menace as he glared over at you, as if you were a stain on the bed sheets. You wondered, vaguely, what had happened to change things.

So much. So much that had led you to this place, where you could be so close to him and yet felt more separated than ever.

“I hate to say it, Doc, but I think I’m going crazy in here,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

He barely had a reaction; a deep sigh the only hint that he’d heard what you said at all.

“And why do you think that is?” he asked, finally.

The psychiatrist in him always came through to shove even more distance between you. Like a shield, put up just when you’d started to press through the fog of tension that hung heavy in the room. You swallowed your frustration at being kept out, and tried to answer him honestly.

“Because I barely get to see you,” you replied.

That was the wrong answer, and Crane’s shoulders swung abruptly to face you.

He was scary like this. Almost scary, anyway. If you didn’t know him better, the look in his eyes would have sent you cowering.

But you did know him, so well, and you remembered with sudden clarity that he’d always been bothered by feeling inadequate. You felt awful; you hadn’t meant to imply that he wasn’t doing enough.

“I’m sorry,” you soothed, before he could say anything. “I know that you’re busy, but-”

“But you continue to make yourself into a problem,” he hissed. “You know the only reason you’re in here instead of rotting away over at Blackgate is because of me, right?”

You nodded, too shocked by embarrassment to speak.

“Then for my sake, why don’t you act like it?”

“I’m…” You paused for a moment, sharp tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m just… lost without you,” you whispered. “You know that. I always told you I would be.”

The first tear fell, and you tried to hide your face.

“Don’t cry,” Crane sighed.

You could hear the harsh tinge of annoyance in his voice, and wished that it was anything else. Even his pity would have been better than knowing that your feelings were now nothing but inconvenience. You choked on your own throat, trying to stifle a sob.

“Please don’t cry,” he mumbled, slightly softer this time.

But now that you’d started, you couldn’t make yourself stop. If anything, the tears were only coming faster, and you felt yourself start to shrink into your own chest. The little black pit that always seemed to sit there, now swiftly opening up to swallow you.

With a deep and lingering exhale, Crane pulled you close. Suddenly, you were back where you both had been, so many years ago: one person’s cheek pressed into the other’s shoulder. Tears soaking into fabric that seemed to be stained with sadness. You let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and nestled into the crook of his neck.

“Remember when I used to do this for you?”

Crane stiffened slightly beside you.

“Things have changed since then,” he muttered.

Your memory suddenly flashed back to the first time he had used the words “dysfunctional attachment” to describe you. That had hurt worse than anything else. Even more than all of the other occasions to come, when you’d heard those same words and worse fall from his lips. They could never truly compare to that first time, when your whole world had come crashing abruptly to the ground.

His arm dropped away from you, but you kept your face pressed into his shoulder.

“Things haven’t really changed,” you said. “I still belong to you.”

“You don’t.”

Two words that stung worse than hundreds of needles. You tried to pretend that the wind hadn’t been knocked out of you, as you replied.

“I do. And I will. Always.”

You looked up at him with wet eyes, a trace of the old life that you’d shared together still evident deep within your pupils. Even if only the memories of it lived inside of you, they still lived. They were still something.

“You need to move on,” Crane said flatly. “I know it’s not easy in here, with me…” He sighed. “I did what I could to protect you, but maybe it would have been better if I had just stayed out of your case. Blackgate would have at least given you distance.”

“I don’t want distance,” you whispered. “I just want to be with you.”

“You can’t be.”

Always so stubborn.

“I could be, if you’d help me get out.”

Confusion flashed across Crane’s face, quickly replaced with raw terror.

“Escape Arkham?” His eyebrows furrowed, nearly knitting together. “You can’t be serious. Do you even realize what-?”

“I know, I know,” you hummed. “But just think - we could run away together, just like we always talked about.”

“Stop.”

“Don’t you remember? We promised-”

“Things. Change.” Crane’s voice almost shook as it thundered.

You brought a hand up to his face, gently coaxing until he looked at you.

“But they don’t have to,” you breathed.

Your eyes drifted down to your wrist, to the space just below your thumb, and over the little tattoo that was etched into your skin. A heart - just like the ones littering your blanket, hidden carefully from Crane’s view.

“Remember when you gave me this?” you asked, holding up the tattoo in front of him.

“No; I remember you doing that to yourself.”

“At first, sure,” you chuckled. “But then, you helped me to finish it, ‘cause-”

“Because I didn’t want you to hurt yourself,” Crane muttered. “Just like you always seem to. Even now.”

You ignored his remark as your hands drifted down to collect one of his pale wrists, then lifted up to your face. The sleeve of his suit jacket slipped back, revealing the spot where once, long ago, you had given him the same mark. Just with a felt-tip pen; he would have never allowed you, even back then, to deface his own body in the same way you had yours.

At the time, the impermanence of it hadn’t seemed to matter. You’d been too distracted; elated by the way that his and your matching blossoms of ink had pressed up against each other as you’d held hands.

Now, you pressed a kiss to the blank space.

“Us against the world, Jonathan. Remember?”

Suddenly, his fingers pressed into your face, digging into the sides of your chin as he forced you back into focus.

“Don’t call me that,” he warned, once again. “How many times do I have to tell you? That life doesn’t exist in here.”

Your hands still dangled from his wrist as he continued to crush your jaw, not letting you look away. But this was the one part of him that you didn’t want to face. The part that didn’t need you anymore.

“Jonathan. You know the reason I’m in here, don’t you?”

“Are you asking if I know about your case? All of the crimes you committed?” he huffed. “Because yes - I was very involved in the trial, and it was nearly impossible to keep everyone else in the dark about…”

Us was the word that he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“That’s not what I mean,” you said. “I mean, do you know why I did those things?”

“Stop - please don’t tell me this again.”

“I did them for you,” you cried, your emotions getting the better of you again. “I do everything for you. So don’t you dare pretend you don’t need me, when really the only fucking reason you’re not stuck in here with me is because I always-”

“Stop.”

Crane’s hands tore away to grab you by the shoulders, wrenching you back to reality. Somehow he always managed to do that. To pull you straight out of the riptide, just as it was about to sweep you away.

“I never asked you to do what you did,” he hissed, articulating each word between clenched teeth.

“But I did it anyway,” you spat. “Because you always get into trouble. Because I told you I’d be there for you, no matter what. And because I always keep promises.”

“I don’t need you to anymore.” Crane’s hands squeezed you uncomfortably. “I don’t - I didn’t need you to ruin your life for me.”

“My life isn’t ruined if it’s for you.”

“Jesus Christ…”

Crane’s hand came up to rake through his hair, but before he could pull away fully, you caught him. Fingers clenched tight to the front of his suit, you pulled back and forced him to fall with you. Your back hit the bed, and Crane scrambled to catch himself before his full weight could slam into you. His body perched just above yours, caging you in his arms.

“This. You must remember this.”

Your words were a whisper, barely loud enough to pass from your lips to his ear, despite how close he was. Your legs frantically came up to tug at his waist, trying to force him closer.

“This was the only time I felt alive,” you continued. “When we were like this. You remember.”

How could he not? You could still live in that moment, if you tried hard enough. As if it had been only yesterday. Both of you nervous and fumbling, nearly falling off of the bed as he hovered over you and you clung to him.

The way that your bodies had melted together, almost desperately, in a way that had made you feel certain that neither one of you would let go. Letting go then had meant something worse than death; it meant a life that dragged on without you and him together.

The stale echoes of passion still rang in your ears as you looked up, silently begging for him to rekindle the spark that had been there.

Crane’s expression was all but impossible to read. His face half-hidden beneath bangs that fell into his eyes. The two-second pause was like a lifetime as you awaited his answer.

“Of course I remember.”

Your heart soared, flying recklessly up.

“But that doesn’t mean it’s the same now.”

Broken. Smashed hard against the cold floor of your cell.

“I don’t believe that,” you breathed. “I can’t. I-”

“You need to,” he interrupted. “Because it’s the truth.”

You stayed stock still on the mattress as Crane briskly pushed himself up, disentangling himself from your limbs. He exhaled as he tugged at his jacket, trying to make himself presentable.

You weren’t sure how he could find the nerve, after ripping your whole world apart.

“I’m upping the dose on your sedatives,” he informed you, still not meeting your gaze. “But I would prefer if you could find it within yourself to behave so that I don’t have to. I don’t like to do this, but-”

“Appearances…” Your voice drifted through the room. “Have to be kept up.”

He had told you as much, probably dozens of times. Just like he’d told you the old life between you no longer mattered, or even existed. If it ever had.

“I’m glad you understand,” he said shortly.

His back was already turned, but you looked up to watch him drift out of the room, quickly pocketing the keys on his way out.

Your head fell back, hard, but the sensation did nothing to ground you. You felt all too lost and adrift; trapped in a situation you had created. This wasn’t how things were supposed to end up.

Your hand drifted silently under the pillow, and wrapped around the barrel of the pen that was still hidden there.

Suddenly, grotesque understanding of all the reasons why no one would want you to have such a thing flooded into your consciousness. The possibilities were many and bleak, but they all led back to the same conclusion. It was just like you had told Crane earlier.

If your life together didn’t exist in this place, then the only solution was to leave.

You smiled. With resolve swirling dangerously inside your veins, you vowed to make sure that nothing like this ever happened again. You were going to be together, no matter what.

There would be no getting away.

This fic now has a Part 2! Read it HERE

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #cillian murphy x reader #angst #LemmyFics

193 notes · View notes

brucewaynehater101 · 4 months

Note

Inspired by the Secret Robin AU by dragonpyre on Tumblr and the genderqueerness Tim has going on with the Jane Doe AU, I've got a Mahou Shoujo Jihen AU for ye! (mangaka, Zero Akabane)

Snippets are occasionally non-chronological/flashback and unreliable narration ahoy lmao

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Okay so the Graysons', unbeknownst to them, have bloodline of ★magic★

A magic newly-orphaned Grayson has to learn all on his own, for the ward hardly entrusts his legal guardian so new to his life

And he wants something all to himself, something nobody can take away or order him about

Waltz's World he calls it, warping the lines between boy and girl, barriers receding

Aka Grayson can don a Magical Girl form that essentially trans his gender while she's formed, at least at the start

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Obligatory "Anon is cis and playing with gender through Batkids like dolls, her highest apologies for any fuck ups" Disclaimer

And also tw for small moments of misgendering by characters who have yet to be informed on batkids genders & pronouns

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

When Robin hits the streets, all Batman knows is that she is a child, one he brings under his mentorship and despite all his efforts, is impossible to find the civilian identity of

When she confesses to how new her magic is to her, that she's self taught in it all, he and his colleague find dead end after dead end to see if anybody else knows about her type of magic

If there exists others like her they're niche and hidden

Thus trial and error and the scientific method is their only way to help Robin come into her own

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Robin is tactical; hammered in by Batman, by Bruce, his guardian and her mentor

If Zucco dies, and it's so obviously linked to her, it could implicate Robin or both of her identities

She has to be smart about this

Murder had no place in Batman's care for her. Dick has to be careful about his search history on computers and what people catch him reading

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Bruce Wayne worries endlessly over Robin, now a teenage girl

Others too; nobody knows her identity

Dick is a blend of interested and not in the vigilante, opinions ever shifting. They both chalk it up to not knowing the young girl at all

Still, he dreams of a time he does have Robin under his complete care, newly adopted like Grayson, safe from crime fighting

When the news comes out that the killer of Dick's parents are dead, a weight is off his boy's shoulders.

"I have to say thank you to whoever did it." "It looks like it might've been an accident more than anything according to the cops."

Robin has been tense for a time, and still is

"Something happened in my civilian life, nothing major but I'm just waiting for the effects to pass by."

His poor girl . . . "I'm here for you Robin, no matter what happens."

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

The air and earth makes way for Robin's acrobatics, lights turns to her direction, and she's too nimble to be human

Too high, too far, too quick, too lasting are her movements

A cameraboy will never confess that whereas Dick shined with his quadruple somersault, Robin revealed it childsplay

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Jason is adopted right after trying to rob Bruce Wayne's car

In time Dick and he get along like a house on fire—

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

It's Jason who discovers Robin sneaking into the Manor, into his brother's room on the day he snuck into his closet for a prank of all things

It's Jason who sees Dick take Robin's place and screams

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

—And then it's like they've reached an understanding friendships with nobody else will ever challenge

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Little Wing hits the streets, partner of Robin

And he's as human as Bruce

"Listen, listen, he's just like me! Powers or not he's going to fight for Gotham, best we can do is prepare the bird!"

So Batman trains the vigilante Jason's age just as he did for Robin. He doesn't try to find his identity

The young duo only trusts each other with the truth

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Robin set ship for that off-world mission on the promise that Batman would protect Little Wing with his life

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

"I'm gonna be visiting some friends dad, and I'm gonna be off grid during our stay so . . ."

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

there's A Death in the Family alright

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Bruce's eyes tore into Robin's, her face vomit and tear and snot stained

"Why did you never tell me who he was?"

Dick could only mouth "B— hiccup B—" He retched again

He looked away from the girl

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

"I have a boy your exact age Robin, I think you could be twins, identical ones even, without sharing any blood."

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Grayson is the saving grace that keeps Batman from losing himself to grief

Bruce sits on his couch, looks down at the despondent boy's head in his lap. eyes hollowed out. hears neither of his boys laughter

He sees Robin's grief polluted face on his boy, and remembers not just what, but who he's fighting for

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

"I never want to see you on the field again Robin. Not after how you've broken my trust"

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Batman does everything to find who Jason trusted more than his own father, who could have trusted his boy just as much, who was the Robin that dragged his youngest into the night

Not once does he think to ask his eldest what he knew

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Precious Robin photos are locked away where only he and Jason know

Because Robin is magic

Robin is useless

She has no place upon Little Jason's altars

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Cross-reference reliable articles and testimonies, and even a boy will learn that Batman is just barely putting in the work to not transform his justice into a suicide mission

Cross-references testimonies, and even a boy will learn that Nightwing puts nothing into holding back against Joker or Harley anymore. Dead or alive, she wants them gone

Even a boy will learn that Nightwing hardly patrols anymore

Everybody knows Batman and Nightwing ties back to Little Wing

Nobody knows where Batgirl went

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Not bullets nor fallen buildings, but grief losing three all in a fell swoop grounds Robin

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Distinguishing themselves from the rest of Gotham's upper class, the Drakes adorn their manor with artifacts of all over

Tim has too much time on his hands to not poke and prod at them all

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Once upon a time Timothy Drake threw away a wish to be treasured more than artifacts, to be loved and adored far beyond relics resilience, to last even longer than objects to get it all

Still he wishes for Little Wing and Robin back, for Bat Girl's return and the quartet of heroes he stalked night after night as they once were

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

She It puts its hands off of the mirror and peeled off its mask

The Drake couple's son sat there again

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

It's not a monkey's paw — it's close enough

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Tim's plan was to blackmail Batman, pick out its name, and leash the Dark Knight until he was mentally fit again

What it didn't plan for was for Nightwing to apparently know about its magic and track it down

It didn't think it would take this long to pick a name either. Heck it thought Nightwing and Batman cut contact

"Last time I trusted you with a child he died B!"

"I know better now, and unlike you I have the resources to train him to his fullest potential. Little Wing is proof!"

"How fucking dare you?!"

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Nightwing looks down at Timothy Drake, tears in her eyes

Dick Grayson-Wayne tastes salt on his tongue

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Between the fact Batkid would be forced to reveal his identity to Batman and statistics showing his increasing violence, how quick he was to put his hand on Robin's throat, versus to Nightwing, the first Robin, his answers is always the same

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Everybody agrees that the Second Robin looks delicate and precious. The birdie shouldn't be giving up their childhood for Gotham

That is all

Anybody can tell you what good the bird does, leashing the Bat, breaking Nightwing out of her grief, giving whatever the little child can for civilians in need, sinners or not

People can hardly agree on how Robin looks; she looks like my dead daughter, no he's a clone of my son! You idiots they look like those sweet kids I always babysit

All they agree on is that Robin looks as if they must be protected and treasured by their loved ones, not fighting crime

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Where Nightwing can hardly be touched, Robin recovers too quickly, even by its predecessor's standards

All but rarely, bullets, crushing weights, and strikes may all well be nonexistent the way Robin hardly scratches

Unless one has a meta's intense strength, they will find more progress attacking it's mind or delaying its goals

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Nightwing blows a fuse Robin hadn't even known existed when she catches wind of all the work its putting into bringing Batman back to the ideal hero he used to be

She doesn't let it overhear the fight this time

From then on she is always with Robin when it patrols

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Tim huffed as Dick clung to him and Bruce got to arranging himself as his guardian for whenever his parents were out Gotham

Apparently his magic was a filthy traitor! and made a link with Nightwing so that if he was ever in major danger, the heroine who pick up on it

Not only that, but it's been working as a tracker for Nightwing this entire time, the first time around wasn't just an ordinary magic thing like they thought

And they both found while Robin was calming down Batman

But why was Batman insisting on becoming his not-parent if he didn't have a link with him? Nor know about his double life?

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Batman and Nightwing are certain they know what Robin looks like. A perfect blend between Batgirl, the first Robin, and Little Wing, their greatest failures all in one

It's when they disagree on the more precise details of Robin's costume and it's features do they realize it wasn't civilians and rogues being tricked by the darkness

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

It looked into the mirror in its room in the Wayne Manor

Scrutinizing it's reflection, it looked the same as always, a perfect blend between Batgirl, the first Robin, Little Wing, and Nightwing

Androgynous if leaning on the feminine side

That ideal the Batclan perfectly displayed at its brightest, a living, breathing altar of their glory

It's teammates agreed with it, until last night it seemed

It didn't understand

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Jason Robin comes back magic

Talia's son and daughter tells her otherwise

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

"Great work Robin," Oracle praised, tucking in some of its loose locks as it turned from its computer to her

The younger hero beamed

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Well then, if neither of them can be Robin yet . . .

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

It's funny how Nightwing learns she isn't the only one with Waltz in her bloodline. At least, she thinks they both got it from genetics. It was alway an assumption on her part

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Spoiler becomes the reason criminals and rogues alike flail about uselessly, making long reaching swings whenever. Nobody spots him until it's too late, if at all

Invisibility his beloved 💜💟💜

Even better are the freebies that come before he fights anybody. Little spoilers that make taking his dad's and other villains men down less of a trial

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Red Hood's violence is distinctive even in Gotham

Yet blowing an entire warehouse to cripple the Joker for good seemed extreme

Then again, it was Joker, extreme measures called

When word spreads of a Little Robin Hood under her care? It explains enough for those without intention to stick their dick in crazy

And thank the Waltz, because the two will never confess it, but it was a trauma-triggered accident

All because the dollar store clown was pissy over names

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

"Dad—!" Bruce's hand ruffled his hair again as the other arm wrapped itself around Tim

Yeah Tim wasn't ever coming out about being Robin if Batman fussed over the two identities this much already. It was a wonder Dick somehow outdid him. He giggled

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

'Big W for Gotham queers' a merry goon tweets on duty, not that she'll confess it over her dead body

'What happened?' another twitter user comments

'Red Hood uses she/they, said so themself'

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Bruce couldn't have been faster in adopting Stephanie after Spoiler spilled Cluemaster's identity

"Holy, your dad is suffocating. I'm not complaining but how do you get anything done when he's bear hugging you?"

Tim sipped his coffee, "That's sort of our fault for dangling two too many kids he can't adopt and treasure in front of him for years on end. Follow me." She quirked an eyebrow

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Every blow Red Hood lays screams how that bomb did

Their strikes keep her targets down, and the impacts of her attacks have a larger area of effect than they should

There is no keeping them down

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

"Our dad is Batman?" Stephanie ran around the room

"Not just that, you're brothers—" It watched its sister turn to it and she squinted.

"Are queers," it choked on its coffee with her comment

"Me too Robin!" Spoiler said, running up to it to bearhug it in his own way

"Let me go!"

"Nope! You look way too adorable like this!"

"You guys are the worst!"

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Little Robin Hood is the most elusive of them all, no doubt hiding herself from his mother when out at night

The greatest of Batman's heirs he strives to be; She doesn't rest until she is the pinnacle of Human, the pinnacle of a Waltz

he doesn't rest until he's picked up his predecessors own unique magics set as a prodigy would, even as the learning curve fights against her mastery of it

She won't rest even after becoming better than his siblings

He must surpass them so much they could never hope to outdo their superior sibling

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

"Yo," Stephanie said, as if it wouldn't make Tim shriek and leap from his couch

"How did you get here?" He made sure this safehouse was the most secure and secretive of them all, how?

"Stalker tracker." She grinned

Her too?! Tim sat back on his couch and screamed into his pillows. His sister laughed

"Want a spoiler on my dad's next puzzle?"

"Give it," wait shit the magic word, "please Steph."

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Cassandra fisted and unfisted her(?) hand

It was more of a man's now. Except she didn't feel like a man, she felt like— scratch that, she didn't feel like a girl either in this form

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Robin gasped as its legs carried more broken bones and injuries than it ever had on its body all at once before

This time the wounds weren't sliding off like water but clinging onto it

"Hood—" a blow to its stomach

"Replacement," the woman hissed at it, then screamed

Robin shifted to its side, resisting the urge to cry out in pain, Nightwing now sat on Red Hood, laying blow after blow on the intruder

And she was yelling herself hoarse

Its sister unlatched and threw the helmet—okay bomb, wow its ears were ringing—off

And then Nightwing was on top of a man

"Little Wing!" its sister shrieks, arms wrapped around the stranger. "Why— why— how?"

"Baby on board! Baby on board! Ack!" Spoiler screamed holding up who might be Little Robin Hood trying and failing to escape his hold. both of them were covered in blood and blows

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Nightwing sat them all down, "Here's what's happening, we're going to keep this to ourselves. I've lost all trust in Bruce with any of your well beings."

"We're going to make it look like Red Hood fought Robin and then fought me as I bought time for my mentee's escape. When Spoiler comes into the scene fighting Little Robin, Red Hood is going to retreat for his sake.

"Robin, you're going to scrub and altar the data in the towers to make this believable; Spoiler, you'll alter or remove any evidence showcasing otherwise; and you two."

Red Hood's grip tightened on her knees.

Nightwing passed a piece of paper, "You're staying in contact with us, I refuse to lose my family again."

A weary smile, "And we'd love to get to know our new sibling."

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

A ballerina becomes Gotham's latest sensation

It's a wonder he— "Gender neutral, they/them" They didn't get hired to perform at Brucie's galas sooner

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Robin blocked Little Robin Hood's katana with its staff. the latter swung at its legs. it latched its hands onto her arm in retaliation and knocked his blade from his hands

Pinned to the ground, the boy could only try and reach for her fallen weapon as the staff was planted right next to her head—

"That's enough training for the day," Red Hood cut them off, "and your final scores are . . . "

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

"Big bro, big bro, big bro!" Stephanie dragged a girl right to Dick

"Guess what," her grin couldn't get any wider

"You kidnapped a staff member?" her grin got wider

"I kidnapped a sibling" she pointed at the girl, or rather, the ballerina their father hired for the gala

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

He took his face mask off at the worst time

"Jaylad," Bruce's grip all but clawed at Jason's arms

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

When Jason declared they wouldn't reunite with his father, period, Damian was incensed

Now he may just give anything to go back before they did. But since he can't do that, the next best thing is uppercutting Todd for getting them adopted

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

"No more heroism Jaylad—no more Robin—no Little Wing," Bruce said between sobs

Oh he's not a hero anymore alright

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

When Batman found Robin sore all over, more wounded than he'd ever seen, his heart fell

Robin admitting it already healed from most of its injuries by the time he found it flew him into a rage

He threw himself into detaining Red Hood, trying to sieze Little Robin Hood from him, and upping security so his kids, civilian or vigilante, wouldn't suffer like this again

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Assassin, Talia, the League had trained a boy, a child to be an assassin. They did the same with Jason

Bruce refuses to let his children—vigilante or civilian—suffer again

Thankfully, with how the chaos of legally reviving Jason, and adopting three children in one fell swoop has cooled down, it seems maintaining a healthy relationship with his civillian family is all it will take to keep them from the streets

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Duke stumbled to his feet, and rushed to a window

They blinked and rubbed her eyes several times over, but its reflection never agreed with what they looked like

Actually, looking down at her hands, it felt and looked more like she was constantly shapeshifting; even his clothes, or hero costume, as was the theme but it never felt uncomfortable keep changing form

This was their meta power? He almost wanted to call out how lame it was but she had to maintain a secret identity somehow

Hold on, she—?

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Don't get Duke wrong, he was endlessly grateful for Bruce

But if Bruce was as good and smothering of a parent like his siblings said, We Are Robin would be down a leader

Everybody had noticed just how much Batman was gunning for Red Hood. Nobody knew why; was it a consequence of her killing his nemesis Joker? Because they stole the name of Little Wing's killer?

Whatever it was, the streets felt less safe when people could gamble on the Bat's activity in accordance to Hood's and be less fearful of the hero, and somebody had to do something about it

Even if it was an army of powerless youth, led by a meta

Duke prayed to every confirmed deity that Bruce never caught him sneaking out

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Dick stood in front of Duke. Duke who was in their Robin costume, oh shit, this was the worst time to not have enough light to flashbang somebody, he noted down to always a source of light or some absorbed for now on

Her brother clasped his hands and smiled, "well then Robin"

Duke's breath hitched—this was the end of everything it worked for

Nightwing, the original Robin took Dick's place, "welcome to the family"

WHAT THE FUCK?!

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

We Are Robin's leader becomes Signal

⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅ ✩⏝̅⏝̅⏝̅

Damn did I run out of steam at the end

"But nonnie, why is Waltz's world accessible through so many different means?" Idk XDDDDD

Everything I touch becomes a fic I have an actual problem lmao

Extra Notes and Clarifications, apologies for the mess, I'm jumping from section to section as I write and copy and paste

Batman and Bruce have a clearer line dividing the two than canon since only Barbara and Alfred (and others I may not know/forgot from canon) are in his inner circle and aware of his double life—to his knowledge

Speaking of Barbara and Alfred, I haven't done them any justice, nor given them much attention

How the batkids having Waltz's World affects them by consequence alongside other AU elements, I did not account for, well I did so for Barbara but hardly at all

I just implied that Oracle and Waltz!Tim have a relationship, and it goes without saying Barbara and Alfred has different relationships with the Wayne kids than Oracle and Agent A do the Batkids

Back to Bruce---

Knowing multiple kids, most of them feminine in gender identity and/or appearance, fighting crime with only him as a well-off adult figure in their lives makes him concerned

Partly because he doesn't know how they are doing out of costume or what trauma they've covered up with the faster magical healing of their bodies

And also partly sexism since he'll have biases subconsciously at the very least

Honestly an entire fic made of this AU could have a focus/subplot tackling sexism, queerphobia, and other biases, how they intersect, + exploring internalized biases on the Batsiblings part

Bruce wants to have his mentees safe under his roof, siblings with his own kids, and full-time civilians for their own wellbeing

This pushed him to adopt Dick and everyone else unlike/quicker than canon from a subconscious want to make that dream a reality even back when it was just the first Robin around

Bruce abusing his vigilante kids as he does in canon, plus more if you want him to abuse them more than canon, is arguably even more fucked than in canon

Because I imagine compared to canon, here he would be investing even more into his relationships for his kids on the civilian and vigilante side due to guilt from hiding half himself

He expresses his love for them both even more, which will fuck with said kids coming to terms with their abuse. It's even more of an uphill battle

"Wow, look at that plothole-topia!" I say sipping my abuelita knowing damn well who architected it (me)

I never established how Dick learned Bruce = Batman or if he knew at all RIP

Hey maybe Dick and Jason never learns that Batman = Bruce until Tim comes and spills the tea. That could be fun

At first I was gonna have everyone's Waltz form be the "opposite" gender to theirs but then I got to Tim, thought about how I set him up to wanna be loved just like the Drake's did things over their son

I thought about how back when he was just taking photos, he had an idealized picture (pun intended) of the Bats, an idealized image. a concept; a thing

And how that could lead to his own Waltz form being one that used it/its like people do for things

So then I got experimental with it

Methinks Tim would be agender &/or gendervoid in Waltz

Dick eventually settles on the fact he's genderfluid, and later on occasionally using she/her as Grayson and he/him as Robin/Nightwing

Lets say it's cuz he always wanted to be like both is parents that his Waltz makes him so

He views the change in gender identity and pronouns as him tossing a coin; whenever he flips the coin to the Nightwing side, she sees herself female, when flipped to Dick's side, he's male

Rarely the coin tossing itself without his input and lands on the thin side; that's when Dick identifies as the gender she does in her other identity

Jason accepts that he falls under solidly cis since even they/them is dysphoric for him; he once experimented with they/she cuz he wanted to be like his older brother-sister

Then the lazarus pit happen, she winds up using they/she in Waltz form and he/him as Jason

Views himself as a cis as Jason; a demigirl as Red Hood. Maybe she's still figuring things out? idk

Since he had the Waltz World magic just like their sister who was Nightwing now, she could be Robin now!

Then she learned about Damian and Tim calling dibs before her and that made them and Dami fight

Damian and Jason call truce on the grounds of Tim being a common enemy and obstacle in being Robin, so Damian goes to Gotham with Jason

Damian was dunked in the same pit as Jason here, hence why he also got a Waltz form

for plot convenience, they are the exception and not the rule when it comes to lazarus waters and Waltz's World

He wanted to inherit the Robin or Little Wing mantle as Bruce's heir, and fantasized about donning both, thus his Waltz form is bigender, she/he, boy and girl; maybe Damian decides he's also she/he and boy and girl as a civilian as well

Damian's Waltz form is the perfect balance between first Robin's and Little Wing's fem and masc gender presentations, so when you know what to look for it's obvious she's bigender, boy and girl

I made Steph and Cass have Waltz in their bloodlines just as Richard does because I couldn't come up with creative ways for them to join Waltz's World like the boys, lo siento :(

But you can do fun stuff with three non-blood related people sharing the same magic in their genetic history

For Steph I decided to make her intergender, mostly female as Steph, mostly male as Spoiler, but uses he/him as Steph and She/her as spoiler more often than Dick

Steph views her gender as a seesaw; being Steph the saw in pointed towards she/her, and being Spoiler points it in he/him, but sometimes the saw does the exact opposite and sometimes the saw tips a bit less than his form's typical gender so she feels a bit more like a boy or a girl when in civillian or Waltz

She thinks she will reach a point where the saw begins to perfectly balance itself or get close enough that she feels more like using they/them instead but she doesn't know if her guess is accurate yet

Cassandra I think would flip flop trying to figure out if they're Gendernuetral or Genderless in Waltz form, maybe eventually deciding that using Orphan and other (nick)names is preferable to pronouns and discards pronouns

An idea I had for Damian, where he used the pronouns and gender identities of all the other batkids, got given to Duke instead

Since Duke is basically the motherfucking moon with how he absorbs light and We Are Robin is all about taking on Robin's name and duties, I tweaked his own Meta abilities to copy and paste their all the batkids Waltz schtick and genders since that's bascially his desire at the moment

Also his meta power converted itself into Waltz Magic 100%, no refunds, so that's gonna be a fun surprise when he claims to just be a Meta copying their magic and he's proven wrong, he's magic too

But an AU of this AU where his meta abilities truly are just duplicating the magic would be fun to check-out

Oh yeah, idk shit about the time periods the batkids grew up in or what it'd be like be growing up coming to terms with being queer even in modern day so I'm useless on that part

But let's just say that;

Dick grew up traveling plenty and was introduced to queer identity at a young age, so while awakening his power freak her out a bit, she takes it in stride

Jason has a more rigid understanding due to a lack of education on the streets, but after learning about Robin, Dick teaches him what he knows about queerness

Tim grew up as a rich kid taught cisnormativity by both his parents and others he grew up around

As a result he expects himself to be a man through and through. It's a bit of a learning curve on his part

+ in Waltz form it thinks its a she because it looks feminine, only to unconsciously correct itself while freaking out after transforming for the first time

For all Tim knows, his stalking did not lead him to learn about Robin's magic including ✨gender✨

So when the artifact grants his wishes, concious and subconcious?

Tim is confused about the Waltz stuff, hence why it defaults to its/it and doesn't try to force itself to use she/her pronouns, cuz its still figuring stuff out and more focussed on the Bats than gender identity

Then comes in Dick to teach Tim about queerness as he once did for Jason

I dunno jack shit about the cultures Damian grew up in under the league so I dunno how Damian would take the whole Waltz thing at first

I think Jason would fill in some gaps in the case Damian has more to learn about bening genderqueer; maybe the League and Dami even teach Jason their own understandings of gender

No clue how Steph or Cassandra or Duke would take the Waltz thing before joining the bat siblings

I should get into clarifying the magic

Dick's magic is all about acrobatics and enhancing her body in ways that ascends her ability to preform them

Tim's is all about being wanted; being the perfect image of what kind of person those seeing it want to protect and treasure above all else. It's outfit and features craft an illusion different to everybody else's eyes

Tim's Waltz form is to itself, an idealized all-in-one combo of the vigilantes it worshipped and followed on the streets

Continuing the "Treasure me" theme, Tim also makes Links with other Waltz's World people it trusts that alert them when it's in serious danger and allows them to track it down whenever

Plus it works when in its Waltz and civillian identities 24/7

and he can't control them, much to his annoyance, a wee bit of karma for his own stalking tendencies

Additionally Tim's wanted to last the elements and foes like ancient artifacts did, so it becomes a tank in the face of hurt

Stephanie can turn invisible whenever he wants alongside what he has in hand and whoever he touches; plus he get one trailormade spoiler per enemies to give him an advantage

Maybe in time the number of spoilers he can get per enemy increases, and

Jason is also a tank that can't be kept down and every assault they lay have way more power to them than other humans could hope to do

Damian has the power to copy the magic of other Waltz users, the problem lies in that it get exponentially harder the better he gets at their magic

Because again, she's trying to take in magic not not made for her, and as the family grows, he's run himself thin trying to master multiple magics fighting against it all at once

That could be an interesting conflict

Once he does master a copied magic, he's good to go, it comes to him as easily as if it were his own magic

On top of that is the much more natural body enchanting magic that make her a perfect assassin

Cassandra's magic lets them learn at a rapid pace. She had to as an assassin. Through it, they learn how to speak, cultural norms and other nessecery life skills

It also enhancing their ballerina skillset, launching their fame

Outside of Duke duplicating all his siblings gender identities, her magic is just like their canon meta abilities; it's just Waltz magic instead of meta abilities

Oh yeah, Duke also shapeshifts endlessly in Waltz form without pause, to look like one batsibling to the next, the most consistent part of her form is their Signal costume which still alters in appearance all the time

Other stuff I didn't adress oh frick

How does those a part of Waltz's World keeping it a secret too themselves affect the batkids relationship with everyody else?

How does the Waltz World stuff affect everybodies relationships period?

What affect does knowing Jason was an is formerly Little Wing have on Bruce, Alfred and Barbara throughout the storyline? On their relationship with eachother

Since Batman and Oracle are two of the few wholly human heroes in this AU unlike canon, Little Wing's death probably cause a huge reaction in the super community cuz one of the very rare human heroes fucking died

On top of that, back when it was only Robin and no one else, Batman and co. tried to find others with the same magic as the sidekick, only to come out emptyhanded; Is anything ever done with any knowledge acquired during the failed investigation?

Because Robin likely told Batman what little he knew about Waltz's World at the time, alongside other investigators when they tried to learn more or find other like Robin. That data is saved somewhere

After Jason's death, Nightwing distanced himself from Batman and went back to self-teaching, so Batman would no longer have Dick as a resource to learn about Waltz's World; he, Barbara and Alfred would have to piece together clues by themselves

And I think they'd have to learn all on their own Nightwing's inner circle so-to-speak are also part of Waltz's World

Batman is pulling his hair out because where are these Waltz users coming from all of the sudden? Where were they when he was looking for them?

Honestly I wouldn't be surprised if that became the name of the squad since as far as they know, only they have this very magic; Waltz's World

How does Waltz magic interest with sciences or other magics or divinity, etc etc?

oh yeah another thing, Waltz's World in Mahou Shoujo Jihen canonically ceases the aging process, but let's tweak it and say that Waltz's World pauses a person's age at the moment their body reaches their physical peak, meaning the batkids will eventually discover themselves unaging, unlike their father and countless other people dear to them

Forgive me if I'm wrong I've got a poor memory

Also I dunno much about the actual Waltz dance, but a quick google search (ruh, roh, that cooked engine) says it used to have strict roles for men and woman

That's what Waltz's World is named after in the manga, it grants men a woman's body and vice versa, the two genders needed for the dance

But in modern day, where societal constructs of gender are being demolished and rebuilt in front of countless eyes (not to say that it never was before modern times, its just way more accessible to witness with the internet) the way people view and preform the Waltz would and has changed as well

This is all to say I thought I threw the Waltz symbolism from the manga into the bin when I decided "lets experiment with MORE genders!" only to realize it never went anywhere at all

By the Waltz, now my brain is cooked

My final idea unless I realize I wanna send another ask with ideas I only came up with after pressing [Ask] is that the Waltz dance itself could be used in a fic of this AU as a motif; so imagine a hypothetical fic with me---

Every batkid and batkid duo and three-or-more batkids all preform the Waltz multiple times throughout the fic

As their own understanding of their gender identities grow and change, the way they preform the Waltz drifts away more and more from how couples did the Waltz long ago, and they add their own personal flairs to the Waltz dances. the way they preform the Waltz becomes more and more their way instead of the tradtional way

It reaches a point where once they can confidentally answer "Who am I?" the can dance their Waltzes to the fullest of their ability and euphoria as a metaphor for the very gender euphoria they feel all together at the moment; maybe they even swap between civillian and magical forms during their dance

Hell maybe the non-existant fic ends with a scene of the batkids preforming that very Waltz preformance I described

I think I'm out of ideas at last

Go crazy, go stupid with this AU people, play with it however you wanna

I can't even begin to describe how ecstatic I was reading this. A gender queer batfam fic rules, but to add on it/its pronouns? Fuck. Gods, I'm so happy with that.

Alright! So, I have no idea about the Waltz World source material, but I'm chill with that. I like the concept as it's described.

Because gender is a social construct, it is completely okay to have different gender identities/pronouns depending on the social environment (or, like this AU, the vigilante and civilian personas having various gender preferences).

So, let's create a list to make the pronouns clear:

Dick: he/him (sometimes her), Nightwing: she/her (sometimes he)

Jason: he/him, Red Hood: she/they

Tim: he/him, Robin: it/its

Steph: she/her (sometimes he), Spoiler: he/him (sometimes her)

Damian: she/him, Robin Hood: he/her

Cass: no pronouns

Duke: all pronouns (does this include neopronouns?), Signal: all pronouns

Bruce: he/him, Batman: he/him

Barbara: she/they, Oracle: she/they

Alfred: he/him

I like the idea of no pronouns for Cass since Cass was taught language later in life and thus doesn't associate Cass or Orphan with pronouns. I also gave Barbara she/they pronouns because being gender queer is not exclusive to Waltz World. That magic affects one's gender expression (and also affects how the individual may perceive their gender identity in different forms).

Alfred is definitely in the background, ironing out a plethora of pride flags based on whatever he figures out about others' current thoughts on their LGBT labels (he's discrete to those who haven't come out or told others yet). He also makes rainbow cookies, multicolored drinks, and displays photos around the house with subtle pride flags incorpated in their colors (like those sunset LGBT photos). The pride flag photos are as many as Alfred can find, regardless if any of the flags relate to one of the family members. It's the dealer's choice on whether Bruce knows the specifics or if he knows, from Alfred's actions, that at least one of his kids is queer.

Might I add that I love that you addressed that Bruce probably has some subconscious sexism that affects him attitude.

As far as queerphobia and all the discussions they can have about that, there is so much to interact with there. For instance, their socioeconomic background would affect their queerness (as far as how they are treated within the community, by those outside it, by those within the various minority or majority group they belong to, what it's like for those with more or less money, etc). They could also discuss their specific issues regarding their particular gender identity (Tim with the it/its pronouns, Cass with none, Duke with all of them, Damian with using both she and he, Jason with considering himself cisgender outside of Waltz, etc).

Because I want to have more representation where queerness is normalized, imma hc that Gotham (besides Bristol) is accepting. There's various levels of understanding/knowledge into distinct labels, colors, history, etc., but it's normal to use whatever pronouns (or lackof) that people say to use. There's no reaction at all to people's various gender expressions, partners, etc. It's normal to just be chill with it in Gotham, but it's debatable whether the person quite knows all the details (like that interview: "How many genders are there?" "I don't know. I just got here").

Outside of Gotham and online, there's the horrid shit. There's also other pockets of full acceptance around the world like Gotham. Metropolis is one of them (which is another reason why Gotham and Metropolis have such a rivalry).

The JL typically doesn't care about gender standards. A lot of them are not from Earth, so those societies (or other ones they have been exposed to) might not follow a binary gender structure. Those from Atlantis are around sea creatures that can switch their gender. Wonder Woman and those of her similar background grew up around the same myths that talk about gods and people switching into all kinds of stuff (animals, different genders, trees, etc). There may be a few that aren't aware initially of the many possibilities, but they either become accepting or get kicked out (fuck queerphobia).

There may be some subconscious shit in these more safe spaces, but overall people don't give a fuck what you identify as or who you get with (or if you don't get with anyone).

At the same time, I'd love for Batman to have to give an HR-similar presentation on queerness to the entire JL. Maybe they have one every year (including ones for different minorities [which incorporates metas and various alien species]) to discuss how to help folks of different background and how to be respectful of their culture/identity/behaviors/etc.

Anyways! Love the AU

#dc comics #dc universe #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #dc au #damian wayne #steph brown #duke thomas #cass wayne #barbara gordon #thank you for the ask!!!!#alfred pennyworth #don't like don't interact

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ihearteugeneroe · 7 months

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im having so many feelings about john and gale in the new episode and i NEED to share them. buckle up guys this is a long one because this last episode was angsty for these two and i love psychoanalysis

HUGEEE MOTA SPOILERS!!!!!!!!!!

first and foremost, john is absolutely not okay. like i know we have seen this so many times already because he’s been on a mental decline since episode six but it’s gotten worse. the beginning scenes where him and gale fetch the water and gale tries to create some playful banter only to receive a mostly silent john is scary, especially because he knows that man is a chatterbox that can’t shut up to save his life. something has changed and gale knows, but gale doesn’t push it.

second of all, the topic of marge. nobody would ever make fun of a guy getting a letter from his girl because that’s the only source of joy they get inside the hell of a pow camp. but the way john seems almost annoyed by it, as if it is personally inconveniencing him is so noticeable. now one could argue it’s just because he doesn’t have a girl back home, but i don’t think he cares even a little bit about that. john has realized that his home is wherever gale is. which brings me to my third topic.

the scene where gale tells john he asked marg to marry him. the fact that he doesn’t even say those exact words, but rather “popped the question and she said yes”. god, the tension in that scene was goddamn near unbearable. john is entirely stoic which is concerning knowing that he is a man of emotion who feels things on an entirely different level than most men. something is turning within his brain and his way of congratulating gale was so robotic and almost calculated. i feel like a part of him kind of froze in that moment. i mean, he likely knew they would never get anywhere serious because hell this is the 1940s in the middle of a war but still. his buck is no longer his. and who does he have besides buck?

which brings me to one of my final points: john is realizing he doesn’t have anybody. that scene between them where he mentioned he never got letters because he didn’t set it up right, and was so concerned gale would only know this version of him and not his old self. i don’t think anything gale could’ve said would help, but it was nice that he tried at least… john’s whole world is gale, but gale has his world back in america. he has a home. he has something to return to and someone to love when he’s out of this mess. all john is going to return home to is his own loneliness and severe ptsd. john is a feeler and he feels things deeply and painfully, like a knife in the belly, especially when it comes to gale. the man he’s in love with has a woman to return to, and he might as well just be a legend that gale tells his kids about someday. but to john, gale is everything. he will never forget.

anyways this episode for them was VERY angsty and it’s late and i’m tired so this is kind of all over the place but i wanted to share my main thoughts. thank you for reading if you got this far i’ll probably continue my rant tomorrow depending on if this actually gets any traction LMAO i still don’t know how tumblr works.

#mota spoilers #mota #masters of the air #john bucky egan #gale buck cleven #angsty thoughts #john is not okay #they both need hugs #and therapy #the brainrot is consuming me #bucky x buck

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aeb-art · 8 months

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ended up putting my fnaf ocs in @cloudyvoid /@head-in-the-icloud's royal jesters au! fionna's worked as a housemaid in the castle for like thirty-ish years and perrin is her adopted child (they are also just a staff bot who got legs lmao)

more doodles and a lot of rambling (almost entirely with fionna) under the cut o7

i may have thought about neptune too long and ended up thinking "wait, i can make this sad 😊" so! fionna caught feelings for neptune very early into working at the castle and she immediately decided "this is improper. i have to bury these feelings…" she refuses to act on them and has just silently hoped in vain for decades now that they'll disappear, they haven't. it's unrequited

of course those who know her well enough can tell and she's actually open about it if someone asks. it bothers others more than it bothers her by now, she's used to it. she's just doing her job now

fionna always wanted to be a mother and didn't want to miss out on that, so she adopted perrin a few years ago! and she's adored every moment of having them in her life. recently however…

perrin wants to be neptune's apprentice! of course fionna will do whatever she can for perrin's happiness, but she is very worried about it, for a wide variety of reasons… that's all assuming neptune would be willing to teach perrin anything though

anyways here's doodles to show her wings and abdomen! she's a firefly, or close enough ^^; and here's the full page, if anybody wants to see that

i'm gonna make an self-insert/sona (separate from y/n!), because i am incapable of not putting myself in stories ouo fionna will be connected to them somehow, probably just a family friend, but we'll see

okay lovelies, thank you if you read this far! i hope you have a lovely day and night! mwah xoxo

#2024 #fnaf oc #oc #royal jesters au #fionna is the queen of repression she would fit so well in a regency setting #she wouldn't even confess if either of them were going to die #unnessary information: the canon character i ship fionna with is ballora which… fionna was also going to do nothing about that lmao #fnaf fionna #fnaf perrin #fionna firefly #fnaf #five nights at freddy's

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sidecharactersdomatter · 4 months

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Thoughts I had during TGCF S2 Ep 2

Also watching this while sketching now here we go!

Previously on TGCF…

-And starting off at the Gambler’s Den!

-Hey you’ve heard the old saying, “It costs an arm and a leg” I think this fits perfectly for the red demon masked gambler

-Hey! No getting sweat on the gambling table!

-Hua Cheng: No Thanks~ *fans myself with a hand*

-Yeah those are the best house policies San Lang

-Man, the loop braided ghost assistant is literally all of us fawning over Hualian amirite? (that Ghost maiden is going places!)

-This den operates on Hubris Logic

-Stop decreasing your child’s lifespan!

-Now Roll! That just made think of DND, I dunno why

-Those dice weren’t loaded (Anybody seen Road to El Dorado 10/10 totes recommend)

-Worst dad I’ve ever seen and he’s just a gambling NPC

-Hehehe Just imagine Toph in the Gambler’s Den (For those anticipating The Scrap Immortal and the Avatar, I’m afraid that’s going to be a scene that won’t come to fruition, really sry readers)

-“It’s despicable, and that’s coming from a ghost like me” that was a really great quote ngl

-Kinda hard to accomplish since you were talking to a ghost

-Yep prolly the worst Dad I’ve ever seen in all of TGCF

-Hi Rouye

-Hi Windmaster

-Honestly, the reason they have Qingxuan switch from Male to female in this season is that from a Union Standpoint, they had to allow Anjali Kunapaneni dub other series while Jacob Eiseman took over and vice versa. That’s just my theory, I’m not sure if it might be true.

-Aw, he’s worried over his complexion

-Man, Xie Lian’s expression shifts as he inspects Qinqxuan’s complexion. I love that little attention to detail in the animation.

-And then Qingxuan happily exclaims while putting both hands on his cheek was 100% precious!

-“If I were a mirror where would I be” they have the best lines of this Season 2 so far!

-Wind Master laugh is clearing my pores

-Hi Qianqiu, Hi Mengyou

-Not so smart to me

-All the ghosts have really unique and distinct designs (it’s that kind of uniqueness I’m trying so hard to capture in my TOH Oc murder mystery au)

-“Aw man! What was his number! Not cool Taihua!” - Literally every ghost in the Gambler’s den, and also me.

-Well, you’re not wrong, Qianqiu

-Hehehe the double facepalm XD

-Not the brightest candle on the altar

-Let’s face it, we all lost it during Hua Cheng soft chuckle!

- He noticed the laugh!

-Man the background ghost voices are on point

-And I’m like at Qingxuan, “You didn’t read the signs?” Does anybody other than the ghosts, read the signs???

-“He might be fine if he doesn’t reveal who he is” Qianqiu: *reveals who he is* Too soon dude

-That blue masked ghost woman sure has sass

-That blue beaked ghost also has a cool design tho

-Don’t mind me just fanning myself whenever Hua Cheng speaks cause it gives me the vapors~!

-The fact that they thought the same thing!

-No not the gambling table!

-Woah he sent it right back!

-This is infinitely better than the live action martial acts films I’ve seen in my whole life

-It’s like a stake raising tennis match

-That glow in his eyes

-He’s going Super Saiyan

-That animation really did get better

-“He’s stuck up there!” My comment: “Like a fly on fly paper” My sister’s comment: “Like an idiot on idiot paper” lmao

-Yep just point and laugh ghosts, point and laugh

-You mean from bad to worse

-I told you Ghost City’s the Las Vegas of Ancient China, told ya~

-A new table!

-You’re not wrong on luck

-Snake eyes is even worse

-“Like I said, biggest is so overdone! Crazy idea, what if smallest wins? Sound fun?” Qingxuan is spitting bars in the dub people!

-They’re just gonna believe that from two newcomers?

-Xie Lian, internally chanting: “Small…small…small…” His cursed and horrible misfortune: LOL nope :3

-Not your fault for looking like a snack Qianqiu

-Wait till you see the fandom, Taihua

-Alright, hat got Hua Cheng enticed

-Literally everybody witnessing a man in white robes desperately shake a pair of dice: Is…that guy ok?

-His smile widened!

-“I can’t watch!” I can and it’s gonna be something!

-Oh he sees a lot in that raggedy jerk than you do right now buddy

-“What’s there to teach about shaking dice? It’s just shakin dice!” The best random quote of this episode, and the tone when that side character said it!

-“And you’re the expert!” He got sassed back

-*Hears Hong Lian Qian starting up like* Aw yeah, the best song of the new season! *Vibes out with writing and sketching like no tomorrow*

-Dude! Pass me the Aux cord! You better not be playing mainstream garbage! *Casually plays Hong Lian Qian like a G!* WOO!!!

-There he is, just a red transparent curtain keeps them apart, also Hua Cheng’s status but let’s not get ahead of ourselves

-The wind animation!!!, and Wind master’s not even summoning it

-Literally when my older sister first saw this scene she was like: It’s the pottery scene from Ghost

-He rolled an 11!

-If my underaged TGCf OCs witness the infamous dice scene like in season 2, Qing Tao and Chun Xue(both 12) look up to their older friends: “..ssShould we be listening to this?” And then Lan Hai and Nuan Yu (both 14) frantically respond with covering their younger friends’ ears: “…pProbably best if we played it safe.” (Quotes are from an episode of Close Enough) heck I can imagine the Gaang reacting like this witnessing the dice shaking too, just swap Qing Tao and Chun Xue with Aang and Toph, and Lan Hai and Nuan Yu with Sokka and Katara, (Zuko would also try to cover the Southern Water Tribe Sibs’ ears, but this hypothetical scene also won’t happen in my TGCF x ATLA xover, now back to the reaction!)

-The singing really is timed well with the animation! 10/10 baby!

-“You see, it’s bigger now” …I got the joke

-“It’s starting to feel like San Lang is just teasing me” Oh yes he is~

-They’re chucking their dice at him!

-It’s a 10!

-“Now I’m sure San Lang is just teasing me” Told ya~

-The chibi scene!

-Welp, looks like those rolls were just practice rolls

-You gotta love Xie Lian’s internal monologue

-Qingxuan chucked his fan at Taihua, and it came back like Sokka’s boomerang (I had to make that reference!)

-That tapir/baku headed Ghost

-It’s a 12, and it timed well with the rising crescendo!

-That one monkey like ghost

-Right on the gambling table!

-Did he cheat?

-The music change!!! The soundtrack team knew what they were doing!

-“Who cares it’s gorgeous! He’s so handsome I think I might just die right here!” “What are you talking about? You’re already dead!” That was a really great exchange!

-And he is seeing his real face!

-“Please my lord don’t tease me!” Oh yes he will~!

-Now the ghosts are suspicious it took em like half an episode!

-Hey guys I think we’re all gonna get a kick outta this, “The stale half eaten bun from Ep 5 was in Xie Lian’s sleeve the whole time!” I’ve always wanted to quote that, and it was totally worth it!

-Man, I can’t wait to write Aang’s reaction seeing Xie Lian and Hua Cheng interact together!

-“Um, I’m afraid it’s gotten a bit hard” Yep, they slipped that in, and James was a boss at writing the whole english script for the season

-He tosssed the bun up and down like San Lang did with a small piece of a broken sword in S1 Ep 6, the parallels people! The parallels!!!

-And him biting the stale bun got XL all flustered! AAAHH!!!

-Look at him go!

-Not that random stand, wait it’s still in tact

-Slay that performance Qingxuan!

-Chide him good!

-And Xie Lian’s still does a great job as a strategizer and a mediator

-The introduction that would change the season forever, also Qingxuan’s emotion shift when it came to describing his new friend’s current occupation with collecting scraps as a living

-He knew San Lang was Hua Cheng?!?!?!

-Hua Cheng is messing with them!

-They’re using him as bait!

-Oh yeah, that’s right, they’re friends

-Geez savage, Wind master

-Hey, no dissing Ling Wen she’s doing her best!

-Gone from Season 1 eps 2-3 and Ling Wen still couldn’t find him???

-Welp, there’s the cliffhanger

Does this reaction count for Hua Cheng’s B-Day? More reactions will be on the way, I’ve got 3 weeks left of my quarter and I’ve got two big projects to finish so hang tight everyone!

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jjunieworld · 28 days

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hi everyone!! i just want to give a little more insight into the salt under the sea and it’s progress thus far. a lot of people have been asking me when it’s coming out or why hasn’t it come out yet and i want to inform everyone.

(putting explanation under the cut because it is kinda long!) trigger warning: death, mental health issues and general health issues, and depression

if you haven’t noticed, for the past couple months there would be times where i was very inactive, like up to a month of inactivity here and there. i even took a month long hiatus. to put it bluntly, the hiatus was because my beloved dog had died and it really hurt me deeply. i literally grew up with my dog and so did my family, so to see my dog’s life come to an end made me really depressed and honestly i wasn’t even thinking about writing at all.

after a little over a month i came back and i thought i was ready to start writing again but then i just got hit by a bunch of health issues back to back (hence all the doctor’s appointments i’ve mentioned). it’s all been really exhausting honestly and just pushed me deeper into a dark place that i’ve been trying to get out of for a while now. let’s not even talk about how fucked my adhd is right now😭

things have settled down now (hopefully!!!!), and i’ve been trying to get my motivation for writing back. things are still slow as i get back into the groove and i’ve been trying to not push myself to hard so i don’t get burnt out and i don’t get writer’s block.

so yeah😭…. to anyone wondering that’s why the salt under the sea has taken so long to come out, and why it still isn’t out yet. please be patient with me… i really am trying, i promise. and please remember that i am human and i am one person and i’m not just a writing machine for random stranger on tumblr’s enjoyment. i’ve been writing as much as i can when i can, but i’ve been busy and preoccupied these past couple months.

honestly… not sure if anyone is still hyped for the salt under the sea, but when i finish it i’m gonna post it anyways because i didn’t go through all of this for nothing LMAOO… i feel like majority of the hype for it has died down severely since it’s been like almost three months😭😭

if anyone has read this far i just want to say thank you for reading and understanding!! ♡♡ i’m really hoping that i’m able to write more and write more quickly for you guys… the wip page for the salt under the sea will be updated with a release date once i’m close to finishing it, so if anybody is still tuned it… stay tuned for that lmao…😭

i’ll be getting back to the salt under the sea tomorrow!!! my throat and back has just been killing me today…

#﹙📌﹚announcements ᵎᵎ #sorry again for such the long wait!!! （◞‸◟）#﹙✏️﹚ wip updates! ʅ（‾◡◝）ʃ #tpg series

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latenightsimping · 1 year

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THE EDGE

“...There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who’ve gone over.” - Hunter S. Thompson, Hell’s Angels

Summary: A part of the deal to freedom included a stay at Pennhurst. It’ll take everything to keep the hope that one day the locked doors will open, the windows will no longer have bars that block the view, and that one day, the name Eddie Munson will be synonymous with the word ‘innocent’. The hope, he never realised, would also come to be synonymous with your name.

Chapter: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings: angst, heavy themes of inpatient treatment/hospitalisation, heavy themes of mental health, institutional deprivation of liberties, body injuries, mentions of suicidal ideation, themes of institutional abuse, can be a dark read (continue with that in mind, look after yourselves), canon divergence, Eddie survives the demobat attack, post-S4 timeline, slow burn romance, eventual smut, 18+, eventual fluff

Chapter warnings: angst, hurt (no comfort), bittersweet feelings, it's a difficult one ngl but I'll make it better I swear lmao, reader is described as having scars but no specifics, story tags still apply

AN: Ayy another chapter done. I'll try and find time to keep updating, but bear with me as I switch between this, other oneshots, and my own personal work. To those who follow along, thank you. This is such a passion project, and I'm loving the story so far.

October, 1984

It all still feels like one horrific nightmare. You’ve still got blood in your hair, staining your skin, with no idea who it belonged to. For a while, the pain had vanished, as you clawed your way to a nearby road. Perhaps a leftover survival mechanism passed down the generations. But now, now you couldn’t ignore the agony that your wounds created. The gashes that would forever disfigure you, a reminder that would become apparent every time you looked in the mirror. For now, covered with clean white bandages. You had no idea what it looked like beneath them, and you weren’t ready to look anyway.

Everyone had looked at you with such vitriol that made you want to wither into nothing. The doctors and nurses were doing the absolute bare minimum for your care, giving you minimal pain meds and spending as least time with you as humanly possible. The steel handcuffs that clasped your wrist and secured you to the hospital bed were starting to chafe, but you knew better than to say anything. Not like anybody would care, or even do anything about it. You knew the police officer that sat outside your door from high school, someone that had graduated when you were a sophomore. Harmon, you think his last name was. Either way, he hadn’t said anything to you yet. Not even made an appearance, just sitting himself down and reading the newspaper. You couldn’t see it, but you wondered if your name was in the news yet. Unlikely, considering everything had only happened a couple of hours ago. You prayed for it never to happen, but it was unlikely anyone up there was listening anyway.

Someone came through the door and stopped by the end of your bed, a small notebook in one hand and pen in the other. Horned rimmed glasses framed eyes that bore into you, a squint that conveyed the disgust he had for you. He was dressed in a police uniform, the Hawkins P.D badge on his chest slightly glinting under the fluorescent lights. Callahan, the name badge opposite it said. You’d seen him around town, but had never crossed paths with him until tonight.

He said your name with a tone that told you he’d rather be anywhere else than here. You nodded in affirmation, as he looked down at the notepad, pen tapping against the pages.

“Wild night you’ve had,” he drawled, a slight sneer as he shook his head. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

For a moment, you said nothing. How could you possibly begin to explain it all? It was all such a blur, time doubling in rate with no hope of slowing. Your gaze lowered to the thin blanket that covered you, free hand picking at the off white fibres. “I don’t know.” Your voice was quiet, far away. You didn’t sound like yourself.

A scoff. “You expect me to believe that?”

Another pause. No, you didn’t. You expected absolutely nobody to believe you.

“We’ve found two bodies so far,” he continued. “Are we going to find any more?”

You shook your head. They’d found Cynthia and Scott. Cynthia was your friend since Kindergarten, your neighbour that you grew up with. Your best friend, who never judged you. Scott had started dating her when you were all sixteen, and you actually liked him. Thought he was good for her. Thought they’d end up the childhood sweethearts that actually stuck together through life; would get married, have 2.5 kids and a white picket fence. Get a dog, and live a boring but fulfilling life.

Where had it all gone so wrong?

“Done any drugs tonight?” Callahan asked, though he sounded like he already knew the answer, and way just testing you to see if you were going to lie about it.

“I uh, smoked some weed,” you admitted, rubbing the heel of your hand into your eye. You still felt fuzzy around the edges, but it was wearing off all too quickly. “Drank some beers.”

“Nothing else?” he asked you. “Hallucinogens, PCP, anything like that?”

“No.”

You swore you saw an eye roll, though his glance away was helping to conceal it. “We’re going to be testing your blood, you know. Easier to just admit everything now, rather than it coming up in court later. I’m tryna’ help you here.”

No, you aren’t, you wanted to say. You’ve decided I’m guilty. And you want to lock me up to rot.

You could barely remember the rest of the interview. A lot of “I don’t know,” and “I can’t remember.” You can remember being sent to the place that terrified you as a child, though. Family horror stories of a great Aunt who went in and never came back out. You remember crying every night for the first six months, only for nobody to comfort you. You remember having to clamp down on your emotions, to bury them deep and hope they never resurface.

You can’t remember your parents ever visiting you.

August, 1986

The sweltering heat of Indiana summers were finally starting to break, cooler air filtering through the iron bars of the gaps of the slightly opened windows of the dayrooms and cutting the thick scent of sweat and cleaning products. You and Eddie had engaged in small talk during the countless games of cards, and you’d learned quite a fair bit about him. You learned he liked pickles on his burgers. His favourite album was still up in the air, citing that “you just couldn’t do that, it’d be like admitting you have a favourite child.” His favourite colour was red and black, leading to a couple of hours of heated conversation about black being technically a shade, not a colour. He missed being able to play electric guitar, but there was something about the ward’s battered acoustic that he appreciated.

And in return, you’d shared the tiniest amounts that you hoped sated him. Safe little facts that couldn’t be used against you. And to his credit, he never pried. Instead, he did what he was best at. Talking enough for the both of you, when your social battery wasn’t at its fullest.

“I swear man, Miller’s got something going on at home,” he mumbled under his breath as his eyes bounced between the project in his hand and the Doctor that seemed to be in the middle of an under-the-breath argument with an orderly on the other side of the dayroom door. Time had been allotted for arts and crafts, or rather, whatever shit they could throw in a box that could vaguely be suited for the occasion. Dried up glue and mangled pipe cleaners, a box of googly eyes that Eddie had pocketed for ‘later use’, and egg cartons that were probably older than you. But you’d found some lengths of different coloured string and a pair of the bluntest craft scissors known to mankind, and had decided on weaving them together to make bracelets. Eddie had decided to join in, and after a crash course in the most basic braids you knew, you were both winging it in trying to make something that wouldn’t just fall apart.

You looked up from the strands of black, red and white that you held in your hands to follow his eyeline, shaking your head as you spared a glance at the man opposite you. “She still givin’ you shit?”

You knew full well about the meetings he had with her, from the venting he always did afterwards. Apparently, medium security was a privilege, not a right. As if Eddie was capable of doing any harm with what little means he had in here. Fuck, you saw him shed a tear when you watched Bambi together not last week. It had only been a month, but you were absolutely positive of one thing, given you’d had enough time to make your own conclusions. Eddie wasn’t capable of his charges. Not for a second.

You expected him to frown at your question, but instead, a lopsided smirk played upon his lips. “Same as always, but nah. I’m talkin’ about what I overheard one of the nurses mention about her.”

You couldn’t help but snicker as you continued braiding. “Really, Munson? What’re you, a housewife at a damn Tupperware party?”

“Hey, I’d look fuckin’ fantastic in a pair of heels and a flouncy dress, thank you very much sweetheart,” he playfully chided, pointing at you with faux accusation and making you chuckle. “But seriously. Apparently, someone found a bottle of vodka stashed in the filing cabinets in the records room. And apparently, there’s only a handful of people that have access. She’s one of them.”

Finishing the last knot of the makeshift bracelet, you looked up to give Eddie your full attention. You had to admit, he was pretty. The long hair, full lips and rounded eyes were a given, yes. But it was the way that he looked at you, how much kindness he gave you, that sealed the deal. The way he would duck his head to make eye contact with you when your eyes felt glued to the floor. When you felt like all hope was lost, stuck in your own misery with no way out, a large hand would be felt on your shoulder, a slight touch that didn’t push your comfort levels. His shit jokes that cheered you up, and the fact that he seemed to know just what to say to make you feel better. In another life, you might have asked him on a date at one point. Maybe to get milkshakes, or to see a movie. But those ideas were bitterly shoved back down, when you remembered where you were. That’d never be an option. Not again.

You rolled your eyes as you leaned back in your chair, fiddling with the length of woven bracelet as you raised an eyebrow. “So you think she’s drinking on the job?” you asked, pulling the conversation back to something nonchalant. Before you had a chance to think of him in any way other than a friend.

“I think she’s doing a lot of things on the job, and caring for people ain’t one of them,” he muttered with a slight sneer. His demeanour seemed to change with the final touches of his own craft project, a triumphant look crossing his face as he held it between his fingers. “Here, gimme your arm.”

You shot him a look of confusion as you crossed your arms instead. “Why?”

“So I can yank it out of its socket and use it as an improvised weapon,” he drawled, sarcasm heavy on the words. “Just trust me, alright?”

You did trust him. Or at least, trusted him better than anyone in the whole building. “You’re a sick puppy, y’know that?” you chuckled, holding out your arm on the table.

“So I’ve been told,” he answered, tone ever so slightly taking on an edge of bitterness that you noted. Calloused fingertips brushed the sensitive skin of your inner wrist, and it took everything within you not to shiver at the sensation. The softness averting your eyes to the window past his shoulder, your inner critic beating down whatever sticky feelings got caught in your ribs at a deep inhale. Get it the fuck together for Christ sake, he’s just-

“Aaaand done.” You looked back to see that lopsided grin of his, though his eyes betrayed him with a slight sense of panic at what you guessed to be the impending sense of rejection. “You like it?”

You finally allowed your eyes to dip down to your arm, twisting it to get a better look. Purple, blue and lilac threads had been twisted haphazardly into what could technically be considered a braid, though on every fourth or so knot, it twisted at the seams and knocked all uniformity right out of it. But a part of you hoped it was made with intention. The same intention that middle school girls gave them, when they swore up and down to be best friends forever to the other girls they’d bonded with at summer camp, only to forget their names in the next couple of years. The same that still rattled around your old jewellery box back at home, buried under tacky hoops and cheap pendants that teenage you liked wearing. You still remembered the pale pink half of a heart that you kept there, on a chain that’d seen better days. The other half at Cynthia’s house, hanging on her notice board underneath a picture of you two together, smiling at the lake five summers ago.

Friendship. A word that up until now, had lost all meaning to you. Something that was beginning to spark, though the rockiness and unease of having it for a long time was throwing you off balance. Something that was being offered, and you were so starved for it, you let yourself believe it. Even if it was fake, you’d take it.

You let the smile that graced your lips grow wide, as you nodded your approval. “Bit of a bold colour choice, but I dig it,” you shrugged, your tone taking any malice out of the words.

“Yeah well, I’m not exactly in a position to waltz on down to Hobby Lobby to get the perfect shades or anything,” he snorted, now idle fingers seeking stimulation by opening a new pack of cigarettes. “Cut it off if you don’t want it.”

And there it was. That slight drop to his smile, as his eyeline averted. No doubt already trying to soothe the sting of assumption, to protect his dignity. Laugh the pain away, don’t let anyone see into it. This was about more than a seemingly simple act of kindness, and you knew the feeling well. God, you wanted to soothe it. Make it go away for him. Because it would be a damn sight easier cheering him up than the sheer amount of effort it’d take to try and do the same to yourself.

But it needed to be carefully done. Replied to with the same jest, play the same game right back, otherwise the raw vulnerability would cause him to clam right back up again. “Nah, I’m keeping this sucker. Really makes my eyes pop, don’t ya think?”

You both shared a look of amusement, before your hand darted out before thinking. You noticed the way he flinched, and again, the inner critic was back with the whip to flagellate yourself with at the ready. You willed it away by turning your hand around, an open palm rather than a grasping claw. “My turn?” you offered, hoping the look on your face didn’t give off the desperation you felt.

You noticed the way his expression morphed, brows furrowed and lip darting out to moisten his lips, as he usually did when he was thinking in rapid motion about something. It relieved you to see his arm come into view, elbow to the deep gouges of the wooden table, an offering of his scarred wrist. You noticed the way his muscles tensed if the pads of your fingers brushed one of them, and you were careful not to make too much contact in securing the bracelet, pulling away when you were done to a respectable distance. Letting him bring his limb back to assess the new adornment, wrinkles around his eyes fading slightly and crinkling into a smirk as he picked at the fibres. A hum of acknowledgement, of endearment, rattled around his chest as he looked back up to you. “Same colours as Hellfire.”

Hellfire. You remembered that name, and you rattled your brain for the memory. “That’s the club you had, right? The one you had with your friends?”

“Yeah.” He fiddled with the smooth braids, rubbing the tip of his thumb back and forth across the length. You noticed how his voice had taken an edge to it as he shrugged, seemingly to shake off an intense emotion.

You wondered if the memories of the group was sinking him back into the realisation that he’d most likely never have a meetup with them again. Never have that sense of normalcy, of feeling a part of something. You knew full well that remembering could be a dangerous thing. Something that should be avoided, lest you fall trap to the longing of your freedom, sending yourself mad with the knowledge that things would never indeed be normal again.

You were still thinking of something to say, a distraction, when Eddie’s name was called from the hallway. His neck nearly snapping with the force of him looking over with a shocked expression, as the orderly grimaced at him as he beckoned him over with two fingers. With a glance at the clock, you noted the time, and something uncomfortable settled in your stomach as you waved the orderly in the room for a lighter. You’d seen a couple of people over the years be summoned around this time, to a part of the building you knew you’d probably never see. You didn’t want to give Eddie the heads up, just in case you were wrong, and this was all just mere coincidence. You bolted that heavy mask to your face as you swung your chair on it’s back two legs, a balancing act as you waited for your turn with the sacred lighter.

“Better hope Miller hasn’t picked up on your suspicion about the records room,” you smirked as you waggled your eyebrows, a sarcastic laugh volleyed back your way as he got up to cross the room. You spared him one last glance as his shoulders slumped, head down and eyes glued to the floor as he trailed behind the staff member. For all his bravado that he was slowly getting back, you knew that was the true Eddie. A man caged against his will, and the strength long since stripped away from him. A husk of a person, just like everyone else in here. Just like you.

You just prayed that for his sake, your assumption was correct.

In Pennhearst, knowing where you were going wasn’t exactly something that got shared often. An orderly would begrudgingly call out a last name, and with a jerk of the head, you were just expected to follow behind. At first, it had scared Eddie something fierce. Long were the days of coming and going where he pleased; in school, it was common for him to just wander out of the building for a smoke, and classes were optional in his mind. Part of the reason he could never graduate. Why bother going into a room where you’d be belittled? Where a label was instantly placed on you, and where it stuck no matter how hard you tried to shift it. He’d practically had ‘troublemaker’ stamped on his head since his Junior year. So why even bother?

A trick he learned was to look at the signs, commit them to memory. Try and figure out a map in your mind, and follow it. The orderly in front of him had passed left at the laundry room, and past the West wing bathrooms. He’d lost track of where he was since the right hand turn by the low security ward doors, and he was going down the corridor blind. Asking wouldn’t help. He wasn’t expecting an answer anyway.

The sight of a battered sign that seemed to be straining free of the plaster caught his eye, craning his head back to see it. The two words seemed foreign to him. A feeling that he knew them, knew the meaning, but hadn’t seen them put together before. The two words that both made his heart skip a beat and his stomach to churn in anticipation and excitement.

VISITOR ROOMS 1-5

It ached how much he was wanting them to stop at one of the doors. How much he needed them to. He started praying to anything and everything, things he didn’t believe in, right up until the man in front of him stopped at the door with a number three painted on the front. His hand stayed on the handle, and over his shoulder, Eddie could just make out a window that most likely let staff keep an eye on the patients without having to enter. He could just make out the fabric of a deep blue denim jacket in the bottom left corner, before it shifted and moved out of sight.

“You’ve got five minutes,” the orderly growled through gritted teeth, finally making eye contact with a venomous glare. “Any funny shit, and your ass is getting thrown into solitary so fast it’ll make your head spin. Am I clear?”

Eddie’s tongue darted out of his mouth to moisten cracked lips, nodding fervently as his hands clawed at his issued shirt to ground him. It took the raised brow of the man in front of him, a sign that he was quickly losing patience, to make him respond verbally. “Y-yessir. I understand.”

With one last glance into the room, the door opened, and Eddie was ushered inside. His breath getting stuck between his ribs as he took in the sight of two faces he thought he’d never see again.

Dark blue eyes, and a gruff face marred with wrinkles and tanned from the sun. A face with the expression that reminded him of being ten years-old, when he was just a kid with a bruise on his cheek and tears that wouldn’t stop falling. The hand of the social worker on his back doing nothing to comfort him, but the look of ‘I get it kiddo, I understand. You’re safe now’ that was worn by a man that looked so similar to his Dad but didn’t have any resemblance at the same time. And like the kid he once was, a sob bullied its way out of his throat as he rushed into the open arms of the one parental figure that never beat him, bellitled him, or expected anything more of him than trying as hard as he could.

The hug was crushing from both parties, with how Eddie clung to his Uncle Wayne, and how those solid arms around his chest added the pressure he so sorely needed. Gave him a reminder of just how much human contact he’d been starved of for five months, and how much he needed it more than oxygen. If Wayne was bothered by the way he buried his face into the older man’s neck and wracked out stifled cries, he never said anything. The large palm that cradled the back of his head seemed to encourage it, as if he knew this was what his nephew needed.

It seemed like an eternity, time suspended in the air, until firm hands carefully grasped his shoulders and tenderly pushed. Eddie relented, a hand flying up to wipe away as much snot and tears as he could. He recognised the next look that he was given, too. A look of pure worry, as Wayne’s eyes flitted from feature to feature. Eddie wasn’t stupid, he had access to some sorry excuses of polished metal as mirrors in this place. Dark circles practically tattooed onto heavy eye bags from the lack of sleep, features getting gaunt as stubble tried to force itself through the skin. Eyes no longer shining like they used to, now replaced with a soulless stare. Once, when he stomached a flash of eye contact in the mirror, he was reminded of his Mom. The way she looked after a blowout fight with his old man, when she lay in bed and cried for what seemed like hours.

“Eddie… You uh- you look good man,” another voice said quietly from his right, causing his head to snap violently towards the noise.

Dustin’s mop of curls were hard to mistake for anyone else's, the fondness in his facial features still the same as they were before. That certain look about him that occasionally glimmered underneath it all, the one that gave away that he’d grown far too fast for a kid his age. Had seen too much, and had to deal with far too much burden for a grown man to carry, let alone a fifteen year-old. The comment made Eddie gargle a sort of chuckle, hesitantly pulling away from his Uncle to wrap the kid up in an iron grip. He was happy to feel it returned with fervour, rocking his friend as he swayed with each bounce on the ball of his foot.

“I look like shit,” he weakly responded, making Dustin laugh as he squeezed even tighter. How long had he waited for this moment? To see someone from the outside, and to know that they were as happy to see him as he was to see them. That they wanted to hug him, and show him tenderness, even when he felt he didn’t deserve it.

Eddie jolted away as soon as he heard the latch of the door forced open, as if his friend was made of blistering coals. Eyes habitually returning to the faded and torn excuse for carpet, as the harsh words of the orderly that had brought him here made him flinch. “Hey, no contact in here,” the voice barked. “It’s against the rules-”

“Now you listen here,” another voice hissed, though through the venom, it sounded so much louder than it actually was. A southern drawl that Eddie was familiar with, but only when Wayne was riled up to the point of fury. Sparing a glance upwards, he could see Wayne’s finger pointing towards the door with an accusing jab. “It’s the first time I’ve seen my boy in God knows how long. If I wanna give him a damn hug, if his friend wants’ta give him one too, then we’ll do as we damn well please. Y’hear me?”

He could hear the orderly start to splutter, as if it was the first time he’d ever been refuted. Knowing that the staff around here liked to elevate themselves above all, as if they were some kind of capricious deities, it was likely to be true. “I’ll be letting my supervisor know about this,” was his answer, a thinly veiled threat. Wayne’s short burst of laughter was devoid of all humour.

“Go ahead,” Wayne replied. “I got my numbers t’ call too, if I think Eddie’s not gettin’ the help he needs. Wanna see who wins the little pissin’ contest ya got goin’ on here?”

For a second, no reply. Then two. Another look showed both men in some sort of stand off, before the orderly finally sneered his final taunt. Door slamming shut behind him, making Eddie jump out of his skin. Dustin’s gentle guidance got him to sit on one of the uncomfortable plastic armchairs, his fingertips finding the bracelet on his arm to fiddle with. Back and forth, stroking the braid and focusing on his breathing to try and even it out. He heard the two other inhabitants take a seat, Wayne’s clasped hands just in view as his elbows rested on his thighs. His voice now gentler, as if coaxing a frightened animal to come closer. “How’re you holdin’ up, son? They treatin’ ya decent in here?”

Eddie didn’t mean the bitter laugh to escape his lips, as he swiped the back of his hand across his face to try and clear his face. Finding the bracelet again, studying it as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Normally, he’d make a joke about it all. Call this place a five star hotel, but make a comment about how they could use better pillows. But he couldn’t find the words, no matter how hard he tried. Resigning himself to the truth, as he shrugged. “S’fine.”

“Did uh… Did you get moved to medium security?” Dustin asked, and the puzzled look Eddie gave him in return as he looked up to see the boy must have prompted a further explanation. “Hopper put in a call. Well, several. Explained to the right people about what happened. He uh- he sends his best, by the way. Everyone does.”

Hopper? He thought the old chief of police had snuffed it in that Starcourt fire. More questions than answers given, and Dustin sighed wearily before explaining it all as best he could. As best as anyone could, given they had such a short time period to meet.

Hopper was alive, something about being in Russia for a while. El was back from California, and shit was still going south with the upside-down. Hawkins was still in trouble, but they were on the case. Some sort of higher ups were working on Eddie’s case, but it needed to go through proper channels to keep an illusion of normality. Evidence to be hidden, to be planted, to clear his name. They were waiting on Max to wake up, so she could give her statement and have all charges officially dropped. All of it barely sticking in Eddie’s brain, no doubt the meds he was on still keeping his neurons dulled.

But one thing stuck out. They were working on clearing his name. It was a shot at freedom. Not much, but it was there. In the darkness, came a small glimmer of hope. Like seeing a seam of gold in a coal mine. Something to cling onto for dear life, to keep putting one foot in front of the other for.

It was hope.

“You’re gonna get me out?” Eddie questioned, timbre cracking on every other syllable. Daring to look up to see the two people who probably cared about him more than anyone else on this Earth, and being met with a soft smile in return.

“Yeah, we’re getting you out,” Dustin echoed, voice soft as he rubbed his palms on his jeans. He reached over to retrieve a plastic bag, leaning over and placing it by Eddie’s feet. “But for now, we’re allowed to come and see you every two weeks. And we’re allowed to bring stuff, too. I mean, it’s something, right?”

Eddie felt too full of emotion, an experience he usually wasn’t fond of. A big reason he liked to get stoned, or listen to heavy metal music, or play his guitar. An outlet always helped, and right now he had nothing. Nothing but three pieces of string circling his wrist, and his leg bouncing a fast tempo. Peeking from the bag, he could see a book and a carton of Camels so far. Something he’d previously took for granted, but not any longer. He’d sworn to himself an oath during his two month mark in this place; if he ever got out of here, he’d never take the little things for granted ever again.

He nodded along to the words, unlatching the harsh grip his teeth had on his lower lip before answering. “Yeah, it’s… It’s something. Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it man,” Dustin replied. “If you need anything, just… Just tell us, alright? We’ll see what we can do.”

It took all the self restraint he had not to openly laugh, instead scrubbing his palm down the length of his face. He needed a lot of things. He needed a good night’s sleep, and a shower with water more than lukewarm and to never again smell carbolic soap. He needed to be able to take a long drive, maybe to the woods, avoiding lover’s lake to not have to remember those frightening and isolating days of hiding. He needed a good ounce of bud and his record player. Lots of things were needed. None were likely to actually be received.

“So, uh… Where’d you get that from?” Wayne asked after seconds of silence that went far too long for his liking. He knew better than anyone what a downward spiral looked like in his boy.

It took Eddie a moment to realise what he was talking about, before clicking all the pieces together when his uncle stared at his arm for too long. He said your name, softly at first. Like a secret that wasn’t meant to be shared. An eyebrow raise prompted him to clear his throat and explain. “She uh… She’s helping me out around here. Someone to talk to.”

Wayne didn’t seem impressed in the slightest, arms folding as he leaned in his chair. “You sure you can trust ‘er?” he asked, head slightly tilting.

Eddie’s head nodded erratically, sending split ends and frizz flying. “She’s like me, Wayne. Innocent.”

“And you believe her?”

“...Yeah.”

He did believe you. He couldn’t explain it, but there was a sort of gut feeling to be had around people that meant others harm. He’d felt it a couple of times in his life. Hairs on the back of his neck standing up, a nausea that couldn’t be replicated by an illness, a sense of unease paired with an urge to run. He first remembered it when his father would come home drunk, the front door slamming open and shut with heavy footfalls. He’d felt it when Jason and his lackeys were chasing after him that night on the boat. Hell, he felt it when that patient with the missing piece of his ear came a little too close for comfort, before you’d come to his rescue.

He could trust you. He had to. The only other option was doing all of this alone.

He watched the wrinkles in Wayne’s face to deepen for only a few seconds, before they relaxed to his natural frown. The Munson men had a habit of speaking without words, knowing each other well enough to be able to see slight gestures and eye contact to mean something that nobody else could pick up on. This particular eyebrow raise meant ‘I believe you’. Eddie’s slight nod was a thank you.

It was all over before it felt like it truly began. The sense of normality, of a conversation between three people who knew each other well, was cut short by an orderly opening the door and barking Eddie’s last name. With the faded grocery bag in hand - after yet another check of the contents, as if a shiv would magically appear after opening it for the fifth time - he was led back to the common room to engage in the mind-numbing routine that never changed.

But at least you were sitting there, waiting for him. Lounged in one of the threadbare sofas, flipping through a magazine that he’d seen you read at least a half dozen times. You looked up, the ghost of a smile playing on your lips as you nodded towards the other side of the couch. No judgement, no questions barraged at him as he crossed the room. Just patience and a slight eyebrow raise. Thank God that won’t change, was his first thought. The smallest bloom, like the first of springtime, got caught in his ribcage. Swallowed back down, bitter as whisky, before it could cling to his heart and not let go.

“Visitors?” you asked as he leaned over the armrest, your eyes not leaving the freshly turned page. He could sense something in your voice; something that caught his attention. It wasn’t anger. It was deeper than that, hitting at a lower emotional register. He noticed an ever so slight furrow of your brow, eyes ever so glossy. Then it hit him. Visitors.

Something that not once, he had ever seen you leave for.

He recognised that feeling. The feeling of always being left out at the playground, never allowed to join the other kids. Of being dumped at a doorstep you didn’t know by your piece of shit father, the memory of the back of his jacket exiting view through a haze of tears. It was being called names, or worse, being flat out ignored. He knew it all too well. And he’d always hated seeing it in others.

But there was no point lying about it, either. “Yeah,” he nodded, plucking the carton of cigarettes from the bag and beginning to unwrap them. “My uncle and a friend. Hadn’t seen ‘em since…” He trailed off, shaking his head as he grasped a few packets from the sleeve. If you noticed his choice of words, you weren’t showing it.

He placed them by your feet where they were half tucked underneath you with a wry smile. “For all the ones I stole when I first got here.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you frowned, finally tossing the magazine to the floor. He noticed the way you seemed touched by the gesture, though. “This place gives ‘em out like fucking candy.”

“Yeah, but you hate the brand they give out,” he chuckled, remembering how often you complained about it first thing in the morning, still half asleep and grumpy from the medications used to sedate you. “Just take ‘em. Save them for special occasions.”

For a moment, he expected more of a fight. But to your credit, you took them with grace. Opening a pack and handing him one, you motioned for the lighter as you nodded your head towards the bag. “What else you get?”

“Uhh… Good question,” he shrugged, finally taking everything out to inspect. The Colour of Magic by Terry Pratchett, and from the looks of it, it was secondhand. A quick inspection of the first page gave him the name of the previous owner.

D. Henderson.

“Love that little shit,” he mumbled under his breath, a fond smirk as he plucked the last item. Well, items. There were various envelopes, already torn open and no doubt already read, bundled together by a rubber band. He recognised the one on top from the character sheets he’d had handed in over countless times. Lucas’ neat handwriting spelling out his name. Already, a lump formed in his throat as he hastily shoved them back. Not here, he reminded himself.

“Good haul,” you said quietly, no doubt well aware of his sudden shift in mood. It was strange, how two people adrift could find equilibrium. He could sense your fluctuations, the small changes in behaviour, that let him know to tread carefully. And now, it was happening in reverse.

All he could do was nod. Allow the static of the silence to wash over you two, and to your credit, you never pushed.

He was thankful for that.

Small stacks of paper surrounded his silhouette on the bed, the one he was trying to read gripped tight in his fist whilst the other hand muffled his sobs. Eddie hadn’t had many good words heard about him over his short life. Words were usually spat with venom, and he flicked barbs back. But now, it was there, all in black and white, and in various calligraphy.

“Be strong man, you got this,” wrote Steve.

“We’re fighting for you as hard as we can out here, just hang tight,” Robin scrawled.

“I’ve always known you didn’t do it, son. I need you to know that.” In a font he remembered the most.

His ribcage broke with the force of how much his heart hurt. The grief, the sadness, the shame. It was washing over him like waves, threatening to drag him under for good. He grieved for Chrissy, and he grieved for himself. It just kept pouring, like molasses sticky in his throat, and he couldn’t breathe. It didn’t stop until dawn broke, when he finally managed to put a lid back on everything and shut it away. Close the door and refuse to look, for fear a monster is in the closet.

Hide it away, so it doesn’t hurt. Hide it until it’s safe to come out, if it ever does. Hide it, conceal it, consume it until it’s as dense as a neutron star. And if you did hear him crying from across the hall, you didn’t say anything. God, he was so thankful you didn’t say anything.

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson x you #stranger things x you #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction

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dumblittleboy19 · 13 days

Text

STORY TIME:

So I’ve never gotten personal on here much. You can call me Addie! If you’ve been on the abdl side of tumbler for 10+ years, I was the male half of ThatOddCouple. We obviously went our separate ways but still keep in touch!

I’ve been into ABDL well before I knew there was even a term for it. If I had to put a number to it, I was probably 10 or 11 when I started to notice I was …..interested in wearing diapers. But there’s a little more to it.

I grew up in a cul du sac with my older sister by 4 years and a bunch of kids slightly older than me. Only thing was that up until I was 10, I was the only boy among the group. And the youngest. And I was “forced” to be walked up and down and all over the cul du sac in their little strollers that their mom would let them use to play “house”. It happened a lot. And it got to the point that I would get jealous when they used the other girl close to my age to be the “baby”. I loved the attention.

At the same time, my mom had a childhood best friend that lived a neighborhood away from us with a son and daughter that were me and my sisters age. I’d sleep over there basically once a week minimum and they would sleep at my house. From toddlers up until middle school I did this. Apparently the son was a chronic bedwetter at night and to make him feel comfortable, she would make us both wear diapers. And she would put each of us in them herself before we got comfy to watch a movie or play video games. I remember sitting in the backseat of the car on the way home the next day and hearing my parents argue about how it was “weird” she did this to her son and me for so long. I LONGED for those sleepovers.

I know both of those stories sound like bullshit. They are real. The other side of this, the side people don’t talk about much, is the negative aspects of their kink. When my parents found out what I was looking at online and how active I was on the DailyDiapers forums (real ones know what’s up) that started an almost decades long cycle of being shoved into different therapists offices to be “fixed”. And whenever a therapist told them I was perfectly fine and not harming anyone, I was accused of lying to my therapists to get on their good side and sent to a new one. It was like this until the day I moved out at 26. To the point where I had to make up a reason WHY I was going to therapy to my vanilla friends and girlfriends.

I spent a lot of my life trying to separate the “vanilla me” and this side of me and in the past 5 or 6 years I’ve just embraced it more. I still keep things separate for the most part, but my closest friends know. I’ve had long term relationships with Mommies and I LOVE a FLR 😍

Always dreamed of having my own place to be little whenever I want and throw abdl parties and sleepovers and have a whole bunch of IRL abdl friends. I’d daydream about having that freedom constantly.

And now I’m doing just that. I host a month abdl banger in south jersey once a month. I’ve made so many friends in the New Jersey/Philly area and they are all such talented and amazing people. We’ve worked really hard this past year and the community we have built is SO amazing. I have become the safe house for people to come and feel like they can be themselves and be little (or be a mommy/daddy. Whatever you fancy). I’ve had people say to me that my house was the first time anybody else has even seen them in their full ABDL gear, let alone compliment them and call them cute and make them feel small.

I love this community and I wanna see it grow more and more. And if you are in the area and you think you’re alone, you’re not. Reach out and let’s be friends.

Well that’s my super long winded post! Thanks for reading if you’ve gotten this far lmao.

That last pic I salvaged from the old ThatOddCouple tumblr page! I can’t believe I found it. If anybody has any other pictures from that page PLEASE share them with me.

#diaperboy #ab/dl diaper #diaper regression #diaper bulge #adult diaper lover #diaper training #ab dl lifestyle #abdlbabyboy

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tunaababee · 2 months

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20 Questions for Writers tag game!

gonna chuck this under a cut since it's gonna be lengthy!! thank you so much for the tag @popjunkie42 <3 <3 <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3? eight! my one foray into DDADDS, a handful of Homestuck fics (notably Cats and Coffee, which i need to rewrite at some point!!) and 2 for acotar, though that number will be going up!!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 76,793!!

3. What fandoms do you write for? mainly acotar at the moment - i will probably dip my toes back into homestuck periodically though, it is where my roots lie!!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Strained (my one ddadds fic for a crackship) Cats and Coffee we will be everything we say Little Games Is It? (im pretty sure this was my first fic lmao)

5. Do you respond to comments? almost always, they make my day and mean so much!! if i don't reply im either busy and forgot bc my brain is like a sieve or happened to receive and influx and got overwhelmed!!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? probably Breathe, which i wrote while having severely unmedicated depression and also being angry at how they shafted my fave character!!

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? oh, hands DOWN wwbews. that is the fluffiest most tooth rotting ending and it was DELIBERATE!!!

8. Do you get hate on fics? im very lucky to have avoided anybody's ire, but i also love biting people on the internet sometimes and i am very liberal with my block button lol

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? i think i would die a little bit if i couldnt write smut?? i mostly write relatively sappy, breeding-kink heavy stuff haha. i want to dip my toes into stuff thats a little more taboo though!! (*cough* ascendant astarion mind control *cough*)

10. Do you write crossovers? no, personally i like keeping stuff in its own little pockets!! mad shoutout to crossover writers though <3

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? not as far as i'm aware!!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? no, but if anyone ever wanted to all they'd need to do is ask!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? nope, but i may have something in the works at some point soon 👀

14. What is your all-time favorite ship? no matter what, Karezi will always be my absolute ride or die, but Feysand is pretty fucking up there too!! i love most acotar ships, but in terms of homestuck ones, Arasol and Davejade are big faves too!!

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? there's an old Homestuck wip i have deep in the folders called Glitter that i remember the vague direction of? but i know that one is not seeing the light of day, along with a barely fleshed out bandstuck au haha. im determined to make my acotar ideas/wips see the world at some point though!!

16. What are your writing strengths? mm hard to say? i'm very pessimistic/negative about me and my work by nature, so it's difficult to say with honesty, but i like to think i convey emotion and inner thoughts decently well! i also think my dialogue is relatively grounded for the most part?

17. What are your writing weaknesses? so many. i struggle with writing out of order, so when i get stuck on something i get STUCK. i have a tendency to repeat names a lot, i struggle with scene transitions and when to call a scene done. i'm also either always going way too over the top or way too underwritten, i struggle with finding a good middle! there are probably many more i could think of but i don't wanna get too in the weeds.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? i haven't used other languages as far as i can recall? if i ever do i would try and get a native speaker to give it a read over, but otherwise i am afraid our old beloathed google translate would be carrying my ass.

19. First fandom you wrote for? that i published on the internet??? Homestuck. things that never saw the light of day?? shit man, i couldn't tell you. i've been thinking about cool things my blorbos could do since i was a kid.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? very biased, but wwbews. i genuinely think its some of my best work, my first ever completed longfic and i put so much time and love into it!!!

---

tags, if you're feeling like it!! @reverie-tales @starfall-spirit @shardminds @damedechance @cauldronblssd @climbthemountain2020 <3

#long post #tag game #no pressure if ur not feeling it!!

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wolfex126 · 3 months

Note

Max from Sam and Max for the character ask meme

Max for this ask meme!

I'm gonna be so honest I got DEEP in the paint here and I'm writing this after having finished answering everything - and. Yuh this need a cut LMFAO so the answers are under the read more! Ain't wanna clog your page without warning - and my most sincere of apologies in advance for yappin as much as I did but. What can I say. Special interest fun.

I have to thank you regardless for having me think about these, because this was super enjoyable!! Plus I find any opportunity to pour my heart out really cathartic ☁️🩷

How I feel about this character

LOVE im. Love im to bits it's quite incredible actually LMAO. As with both parts of that pair they're stronger characters put together, but I think Max has way more nuanced personality as an individual than people tend to think about him!! In Sam's bio in the original Save the World, it states they've known each other all their lives and "speak a common language" - and I think that fact, about specifically Max, goes to show he's more detailed than it appears :] More than their hijinks and playful taunting, they do speak a common language: and it's supporting the other how they need case-by-case 🥺

I don't know, I always appreciated how Max was a deeper character than was outwardly demonstrated most of the time. At the end of TDPH, the moment where Max is recalling what happened in his timeline with nonchalant humor in the face of pretty horrific circumstances (whether used to cope or not), but then sees Sam visibly disconcerted, and Max immediately changes how he approaches the conversation with more tact, is beautifully subtle in showing Max is capable and willing to be gentler with Sam when their usual joking doesn't work.

Maybe it was or was not intentional, and I'm reading way too much into it, but long story short Max is a wonderfully comedic, yet nuanced character, and even as more of a Sam fan (by a mere margin, mind you), I would be remiss to deny that the pair are interwoven pretty inseparably - and Max being any other way wouldn't make their dynamic work nearly as perfectly. Good rabbity thing character 10/10

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Sammy Hound Dog is my only ship for him 🐶🐰I couldn't imagine those two being with anybody else. "In every life, I will find you," type beat y'know?

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Does Flint Paper count LMAO? I think they'd be rather close (whenever they have free time between cases really JWBFKSN) and I'd imagine Max still has a bit of an idol thing going on even post Night of the Living Dead :]

Maybe a cheating answer but truthfully my gut answer was Sybil!! She's the pair's bestie imo so sure maybe obvious person to say but all the same I think she and Max could be a hell of a lot closer than it appears (⁠´⁠∩⁠｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡⁠∩⁠`⁠) I think she'd be a deeply trusted confidant, and he thinks to go to her first concerning things he couldn't ask Sam about/for - not that that'd be. Very much. Considering the little to no filter he's got But for dates or to surprise Sam with something and he knows he's gonna need help with it she's his first thought. Though I'm sure the end of TDPH probably went to show how much deeper Max cared for Sybil than what showed on the surface 🥹🩷

My unpopular opinion about this character

PG opinion? Now I am The Number One, Uno, Un, Ein, Énas, Yek crossdressing fan wholly and truly I've never known myself without that passion But I would probably say as far as the content I see, I'm way surprised that Max is the most chosen of the two to do so!! Immediate disclaimer bc one will always be Grateful to be fed and the work is always SUPER delightful regardless but just from what I hear in dialogue and have seen in the cartoon I was always under the impression Sam was more willing and even eager to crossdress, while Max was pretty hesitant and/or did not do so very often :0 At the end of the day this is a huge nothing-offense but it's more something I found interesting in the fandom! Clothes aren't gendered just in case I have to say that but I'm quite fond of the term and the history so it's just how I call it :]

Adult opinion? Max prefers to top and Sam prefers Max tops too. Sure they'll switch off on occasion but I think after that dog does all the work and talkin all day there's a dynamic shift (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)👍🏼 That's all I've got for now I would further elaborate with great love but being that I'm not sure how you feel about this sort of thing I'll leave it out of courtesy!! But it was an honest gut answer I had so I didn't want to leave it from my rambling

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon

That he gives Sam a big ol kiss right on that snout of his and then rehashes that line about his warmth being alarming

If I can't answer that then I'm also cool with a peek into their actual bedroom!! I was always under the impression they lived right in the office, but I've also seen iterations from other fans of them having a house or an apartment!! Regardless of depiction, I think having a concrete bedroom visual for them would be super interesting (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠) Though it is fun as fans to be able to speculate and show off our own ideas, so it isn't upsetting or anything of that sort - just something I think could realistically be done!

Sincerely I don't have any specific wishes for Max specifically - I think he was handled very well in all the media he's in, and anything that wasn't directly shown or written is very easily remediable with fanon and community ideas!! I don't find anything wrong with the stories serving their purpose as is, and the people being left to interpret and add onto what exists 🩷

Though, if I can give a more dramatic answer to this, however unrealistic, then I'd say I wouldn't at all hate a musical motif for him (or all the main characters really!!) I understand that hardcore story-telling is not really a Sam and Max special, but if I can be self-indulgent and shamelessly passionate about music, then I'll say especially for a game like TDPH something during more emotional or intense moments including character musical motifs in the background a la God of War reboot style would make things a hell of a lot more impactful.

Like Max's motif could be something lively, something typically with drums and violin or harp, or even flute, and changes depending on the progression of the story - during his initial power sequence, it's powerful and upbeat and smooth; during his beast transformation, it's chaotic and defeaning and gritty; during Sam's departure from the lab after finding out they couldn't bring Max back, it's quiet and drawn out and almost sounds like a lullaby before Sam takes to the streets and the motif stops playing to transition into Sam's sole motif, which would be equally quiet and solemn, to imply Max being left behind and Sam left alone. Maybe Sam and Max while they're together also have a motif that's both of their individual ones combined - and when it matters most, their motifs can be separate like when Noir Sam happens or when Max is trapped in the ship.

There's a lot of potential in music being powerful for this series, and while I think the sound direction is good as is (I mean, "That Rainy Neon Glow" is a pretty damn good Noir Sam track), I think a little extra care to make motifs to consciously and subconsciously recognize themes would be tremendous. I mean shit maybe they're gonna do that for the upcoming remaster and I'll be taken aback but I'm more of the belief that this is something only in a wistful dream ☁️🩷

#sam and max #ask #generalherasyndulla #long post #fave

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spaceratprodigy · 1 year

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OC Superlatives Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @the-lastcall 💖💫

The Favorite

I don't think this comes as a surprise to anyone. Faith is so very dear to me she is quite literally a part of myself. She brings me so much comfort and has been an outlet for me for the past like? 3 years?? Gosh look at how far she's come. She helps remind me that everything is going to be okay.

The Oldest

While technically I have some ocs that are even older than her, Cookie is my first self insert lmao. Nowadays I don't think any but a couple of y'all would even know who she is and that makes me a lil sad! She's very special to me and was very beloved by people who meant a lot to me. Very few know me and her story well enough to see how on the nose it is an escape from my own life. Not shown here but she has burn scars on her right wrist/forearm. An exaggeration of my own burn scar in the same place. Cookie has always been there as a way to not feel alone, to see myself in someone who has been through similar experiences and made it out through the other side. To remember why it's so important to keep fighting.

The Newest

Okay maybe not the newest.. but Iris is the newest oc I've actually been putting a lot of time and love and effort into! I love her a lot! I know I still don't talk abt her as in depth as I would like to but I swear she's got more going on than I share. I just can't help wanting to draw her so self-indulgently full of love all the time, it makes me happy to have silly fun! I really really have been meaning to doodle her more vulnerable and serious moments because she's got a lot of grief in her heart she isn't letting out.

The Meanest

I suppose she was going to have to make her debut sooner or later.. okay but I genuinely don't have much to say abt Poppy. She's been a priv exclusive oc for a lil while and she's not developed.. like.. at all.. I ramble about her a LOT but I'm also literally every day scrapping everything bc my ideas are constantly changing so she's fr not ready yet lmao. Even I don't fully know what her deal is yet! But I can confirm she is the most ruthless (should I admit she's my lowkey nuka-world raider oc I made specifically to fuck Porter Gage nasty as hell likeeeee)

The Softest

Maril is my BABY!! She does not have a mean bone in her body and the closest she'll ever get is when she's defending her friends! She's so generous, she wants to help others any chance she gets and sees the best in everyone.

The Most Standoffish/Aloof

Faith is quite reserved, honestly. Becoming Captain wasn't exactly the life she chose for herself but it was the role she had to take on. For Phin, for her crew, for Halcyon, it was something she would grow to take seriously in time. She doesn't like to let on just how stressed and overwhelmed she is until she crashes and burns and has to be forced to rest before her stomach ulcer incapacitates her (speaking from experience, it's excruciating). When allowed to, she's pretty quiet and keeps to herself. She was never exactly the most social person and struggled to maintain any sort of relationship with anybody. She'll eventually warm up to her crew and come out of her shell. Sometimes you just need to meet the right band of misfits who get you.

The Smartest

I swear this isn't just me tooting my own horn. I genuinely built her character favoring her intellect and charm. Her highest levels were in engineering, science, and medical. She's got a head on her shoulders, and she's often pretty lost in it. Faith loves to build and tinker with things and loves reading and learning as much as she can. One her own comforts, really. Maril and Iris aren't necessarily too far off on this one, Faith just has a little more under her belt. (Maril is also dedicated almost exclusively to being a gummi ship mechanic and Iris is best at carpentry!)

The Dumbest

Poppy is by no means a moron and shouldn't be underestimated. But her skills and knowledge are very strong in fighting and survival. She does however qualify as my dumbest oc here because.. she was my melee heavy idiot savant build! Girl never at any point got a single level put into her INT lmao.

The One I'd be Friends With

Hands down Maril would be the bestest friend I could ask for. She would be so sweet and considerate and let's be real.. I'd want to also work on the gummi ships with her. I love my gals but I just know Maril would be a ray of sunshine and a great friend. She'd also love to listen to me talk abt all my own projects and we could build so many cool things together..

#this was super fun I've been wanting to work on it for a while but!! i wanted cool lil oc banners too #okay it's super late and I should def be sleeping so I'm gonna pass tf out as soon as I hit the post button fr fr #hopefully everything I wrote was coherent lmao I try to save these for when I'm actually awake but I was too excited to finally work on it #ocs #captain of the unreliable #sole survivor #maril highwind

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signalhill-if · 1 year

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just started (and finished!) the demo today and just wanted to say how much I’m loving everything so far! The aesthetics and world building are my favorite parts and it’s super cool to conjure this image of signal hill in my own mind! If you don’t mind me asking, was the story and world of signal hill inspired by anything specific? I’ve gotten into reading a lot of stuff lately like other IFs and books and would love to check out some more pieces set in apocalyptic universes if you had any recommendations. Excited to see what comes next for your story!!

Hey, thank you so much! I'm really flattered that you enjoyed my little world 🥰

Unfortunately idk how much help I can be. I'll let you in on a little secret- I don't really read much 😅 I'm one of those attention deficit bitches who can't read unless there's nothing going on around me, and also can't focus on just one thing at a time without multitasking. So reading was uh... not meant for me, I guess.

I've always come at interactive fiction games from the game side moreso than the fiction side, hence why the game is... like it is. The main inspiration was Apocalypse World. It's a fucking incredible tabletop game that I will harp on about forever on this blog, but most people aren't into just reading TTRPG books, so I guess that won't work.

In terms of games, the story and aesthetics of Signal Hill are very heavily inspired by Fallout, especially Fallout: New Vegas, duh. And while it's not super similar, if you like this game, you would probably love Disco Elysium (I know I do). Playing that game seriously changed the way I write, and it has a lot of very similar aesthetics and gameplay elements, although I swear to god that I had no idea that Shivers or the Pale existed before I made Signal Hill lmao. It's not post apocalyptic but it might as well be. Also it's just better in every way. Seriously, play Disco Elysium.

Also in the realm of things that have inspired me, but an an actual book this time- @cryptotheism's book Amber Skies is absolutely stunning. I have not finished it because of the aforementioned ADHD (shit's 124k words... that's a lotta words for my big dumb brain) but I really need to sit down and power through it. It's got an incredible setting, a beautiful style of prose, and a way of humanizing body horror that really rocks. Big body horror cw, of course. But like. Go read it. Now. It's free.

I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help, but if anybody has any other suggestions please share them!

#ask #anonymous #ct if you're reading this i hope it's cool that i tagged you 🥲 i simply must lavish praise on your writing

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dimdiamond · 1 year

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Love that you always take time to answer some questions you're so sweet🤍honestly in that haddock topic unfortunately herge himself said that drinking jokes for haddock were all about making people laugh and simply about jokes but damn he repeated them SO fucking times that now almost everyone always jokes and talks about haddock making a fool of himself just because of a drink and that's meh you know cause repeating one thing over and over again really isn't nice and it's tiring,like even in the picaros case he once again made haddock all about drinking but not being able to drink like man couldn't you find another plot for this guy for one except drinking?literally just because of drinking hardly anybody mentions his another good actions and that kinda sucks plus I was sick of seeing him talk about drinking in every freaking topic lmao😭

Thank you! It is just my brainrot making me want to write and share my thoughts with all of you guys so thank you for asking and taking your time reading them!

Ufff if this isn't true! Herge had overdone it with many jokes, like Calculus hearing or Bianca's singing, but Haddock's drinking was by far the most damaging for the character himself and they are really aged as fine as milk.

It breaks my heart to see Haddock's reputation being limited in drinking jokes and making fool of himself. I mean he is a fool but a drinking fool isn't all he is. I could list all the things Haddock is, good and bad, and need many words for that and still not mention drinking. No, I'm not kidding and I'm sure whoever is a fan of his and the series could do the same.

I am not saying let's ignore his drinking problem of course. I'm just saying let's see what's beyond joking about it. I'm saying let's try to be better than Herge and not take this just for laughs.

Btw I find Tintin's behavior with Haddock's drinking interesting. In many cases he uses it as a bait to make Haddock want to do what Tintin wants, usually making it even a pride matter. However I think that Tintin sees the potential Haddock has and he uses alcohol to make him do what he could do anyway. I have this thought that Haddock isn't exactly forced to do that as he changes quickly his mind with just one sentence from Tintin. You could say that Haddock is easy to be lead but you have to know his buttons. And Tintin has done it to move forward with the adventure and not stay behind, like in Shooting Star or Tibet. BUT Tintin has shown great concern about Haddock's drinking too, in Red Rackham's Treasure especially where he got rid of the bottles, and of course in the moon when he yelled at him.

It's like Herge hadn't decided what exactly to do with Haddock's drinking. Sometimes it's handled seriously and others lightly and most of the times for a joke. Maybe with the pills in Picaros he could have the chance to show more of Haddock's character without drinking or maybe not, I wouldn't put my hands on the fire for Herge.

Anyway I want to see more jokes about Haddock hating mineral water.

#thank you for the asks!#i have lots of fun answering them #captain haddock #archibald haddock #tintin #the adventures of tintin

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kithtaehyung · 2 years

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🥁 🚪 📱 everyone pls type down ur ask on your notes on smth just in case it doesn’t get send through… thank god i was able to kinda remember what i first typed out 😅😅

i have thoughts on these emojis… like for the phone.. what if.. yoongi and oc is talking dirty after sun goes down and keep their sexy nukim? *cues sexy nukim*

okay but fr tho what if. WHAT IF???? i’m sorry but i refuse to comment more on this bc i think i’ll go insane 😀

but the drums. they are fucking with me. like is it kook? it can’t be yoongi… or can it? bc if it were to be yoongi, it’ll probably with a piano or the guitar… so how is the drums significant in 3tan9? i don’t think there’s any mention of the drums so far… maybe i gotta do a reread 😙 or maybe it’s just my heart drumming with anticipation when reading 3tan9. hm. yeah i think this is it.

for the door, i don’t think it will be related to oc or yoongi or anybody but it’ll be me when 3tan9 drops like. to the emergency exit i go! see ya!! had a great time here thanks for having me but i think i had enough! im kidding i want more 😙

okay but in all seriousness, i thought 3tan jimin is a menace. but my GOSH RYEN! You! 🫵 Maam are the actual Menace like are you kidding me? with these spoilers??? nah yall we are so spoilt like we In Trouble fr. got me doing mental gymnastics at 7 in the morning like damn. i feel like you’re going through all of our asks and giggling and thinking like “that’s cute but you’re wrong and i’ll destroy you! (with whatever that is in 3tan9!!!!)” like see? Menace Move!

i probably said this like a million times but i’m so excited i will literally Eat Up everything that you put to the table like SURPRISE ME!!!! so freaking excited to see how 3tan9 will go and to see how these emojis fit in HEHEH SO EXCITED I LOVE U I LOVE U I LOVE UUU pls take all the time you need love <3

- 🪐✨

AKDLDFLSLD SATURN OMG?? Sometimes my answers to asks get errored out, too (and sometimes multiple times🥲) so I get you. But I’m glad you remembered what you typed bc LMAOO THIS COMMENTARY IM GONE‼️

The phone emoji explanation?? Already on the floor. We all know Yoongi needs his phone taken and thrown into a river so🧍‍♀️and then the drums…… I cannot comment at all lmfao and the door has me CRYINGGGGGGG😂😂

EXCUSE ME???🫣 UNPROVOKED?? Ok maybe I am giggling at these asks but I’m also so impressed with all the theories and explanations. Y’all are so sleuth-y and smart and really creative! Super happy that you’re excited for whatever the fresh hell is in 3tan9😂 that makes me feel so much better while working on it. You have no idea how much words like that encourage me😭🍊thank you for the laughs LMAO I enjoyed this sm

#PLEASE‼️#I yam innocent!!#🪐✨ anon #3rytan #3tan spoilers #3tan9 #lovely people #*ryenfictalk #mailbox💌

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three-headed-monster · 1 year

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⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (five, tk take separately, luv uuu)

bestie you always come through thank you :))))

i hope that you're okay with me choosing from a variety of ships and fics cause that's what i'm doing lmao

long post incoming so inserting a cut here

and i can see us lost in the memory: muskoka lake cabin scene

really want to highlight this one cause i sort of feel like no one realizes that i ever wrote for them? probably because it was 3 years ago at this point and also has a lot of key characteristics of my early writing opposed to my writing now. but this is probably one of my favourite actual confession scenes that i've written. i knew the whole time when writing this fic that i wanted it to end in muskoka, with them together on the pier talking to one another. i think at the time, i was just so in love with the idea of muskoka being this place that connected both of them when they were pushed so so far apart. it felt right.

this is also where i kinda started like obsessing over eyes lmao. you can see that a common thread throughout my fics is the idea of eyes "crashing" into one another and eye contact being a sort of simultaneously clarifying and intense moment for the characters. i think that's personally because i hate making eye contact with literally anybody and find that you're most vulnerable when you're looking somebody right in the eye. The bond snaps into place as soon as Connor’s clear blue Muskoka eyes make contact with his is one of the best lines in the fic in my own personal expert opinion lmao because it signifies the beginning of the two characters finally starting to open up with each other, alongside a physical indicator that they do.

another one of my favourite lines is: They’ve both changed. They’re both older, wiser. They both look a little different. But this place? And these feelings? Hasn’t changed one bit.

i love the idea of places holding weight and meaning. i just think that everything has memory in it you know? that'll never change, no matter how hard you try, and when you revisit those places, you're brought back to how you felt the first time you experienced them. you'll never forget them, but it's also always compounded with the new way you look at the world. and when you can connect those two things together and still end up feeling the same way, it's beautiful.

anyways this is basically me just plugging myself like please go read this fic cause i think this confession scene is beautiful !!!!!! i wrote it very well me thinks!!! it's probably the best part of the entire fic and definitely taught me the importance of a good closing scene.

2. i don't need your closure (i have my own)

more like a ficlet than an actual fic, but actually so necessary to how i write going forward tbh (i mean all of these fics are really important parts of my writing journey but like there are specific things that i got from all the fics you know)

this one is SUPER introspective on bo and it really lends to my writing style. i like when characters soul-search a little bit. i tend to lean that way more when putting down fic, thinking about what is logical for a character to feel during certain situations as opposed to the action actually happening around them. when characters really look deeply at themselves and realize why they're doing certain things, or why they're feeling certain ways, that's what is most exciting for me to write as an author. you'll notice that i often overuse this in fics though, with less dialogue/action focused scenes and more like "oh my god what the fuck is happening in my head rn" scenes.

i also am a sucker for best friend relationships. almost every ship i read and/or write for must have a deep friendship i think, before i can even consider seeking out content for them. this isn't to say i don't enjoy a good enemies to lovers, but i love the aspect of friends being there for one another and that transitioning into a deeper connection, into love. there isn't any tagged ship in this fic, but dylan and bo's friendship is at the forefront of it because the comfort that dylan provides to bo changes how he thinks and views things. he and dylan have a strong platonic love for each other, and i think it shines through! the best line in this fic is: We have to go inside now yeah? Don't worry, I've got you. and it perfectly sums up what this fic is. like a warm hug from a friend after a hard day.

3. i didn't just come here to dance: handfeeding scene

handfeeding is one of my favourite tropes in fic and i wish i gave myself more opportunities to write it because the intimacy of it!!!!! being cared for by someone in ways you know you don't need but want to give them anyways!!!!!

i wrote this one into this fic in particular because of the character dynamics and characterization of the two leads. i think this is one of the first fics where i really started to explore that idea, of having my own headcanons for characters, and integrating that into how they interact with others and with the object of their affection especially. in this case, one of the big things i wanted to highlight was jack's big fear of never being enough. he's never been enough for anyone (or so he thinks) and how does that inform his interactions with noah? it certainly tinges them with a sense of desperate connection with the one person who does see him as enough. i feel like all of my characters tend to have something like this (like owen's constant paranoia about not being interesting enough for kent to stick around).

also this serves as a good consent scene for the both of them, both of them sane and coherent enough to say yes to one another. which is always good! consent is necessary and sexy!

4. the boy who sits at the front of the class: breakup/makeup scene

another really underrated and really short one! i never get an opportunity to talk about this one, mainly because i have a lot of fucking fics lmao, and it's one that i released kinda under the radar.

i felt like this scene was needed mainly because i didn't want their relationship to be perfect. it's unrealistic to expect that, especially as a high school relationship. right person wrong time is something i believe in so strongly, and it just wasn't their time after high school going into college. that didn't mean they stopped loving each other though, and i think i say it in that scene that both of them were devastated by it.

you'll also notice the repetition of 3s rule in this scene (p much throughout the entire scene) and that's another trait of my writing. i love using that for dramatic effect and also to really emphasize what is going on. i think it makes it easy to add a ton of detail to scenes without feeling like there's a disconnect with what's actually going on. i mention 3 unrelated moments, but they're all kind of connected by the "there..." thread. great literary technique, highly suggest to all writers!

my favourite line from this fic is: Kent, Kent, Kent. It’s all him in the end.

because it could really be a synopsis for the whole fic and how i view owen as a character lmao. reading through the rest of my owen/kent fics, you'll notice that my owen characterization develops throughout, to really highlight that as one of his key traits.

5. lover of mine (maybe we'll take some time): nail scene in amsterdam

one of my favourite scenes i've written for this fic, mostly because i think it's one of the only ones that perfectly balances the angst, the pining, and the humour of it all. if i had to introduce someone to this fic, i would probably use this scene to do it tbh because it has everything i want to show from it.

funnily enough, this was a scene i started over at least three different times when writing out this fic. truly, i have no idea why it was so difficult, but in general, i find that this one of the most difficult fics for me to write. i think it's because i don't have a very firm grasp on kent's characterization at all, what makes him tick and what not. the au setting does make it a bit easier for me to mold him to whatever i want him to be, but there's a reason i tend to write from owen's pov instead of kent's. i feel like i really understand owen as a character (and you'll find i tend to lean one way in all of my ships in terms of understanding their characters), and with kent, i feel that less so. i wanted this scene to show owen and kent's genuine friendship, and how owen cares for him enough to do things like this with him. owen cares enough to pay attention to the fact that this is what kent wants, and to ask him the truth about what's going on. he doesn't push, because he knows kent well enough to know he'll tell him anyways. i wanted to give the audience an idea of how far their connection goes and how good of a friendship it is. add in a bit of owen clearly wanting to tell kent how he feels about him (spoiler: he's kinda in love), and some humour, and you have a great scene.

i think this scene is also a really good indicator of how kent views owen too. it's a lot of foreshadowing for how they will inevitably end up together, through the dropping of little hints. like really, kent shouldn't want to be so observant of what owen is doing, but he wants to because there's something more than friendship simmering under there. and because he finds he's really good at it.

the vibe is this scene is truly something i want to try to capture in most scenes going forward in this fic. and hopefully i do! the next chapter is great chapter and when i do release it, i think you'll find that a lot of the amsterdam vibes do reflect on it.

#ask #anyways bestie hope you like this monster of an ask #and got a bit more of a view of how i am as a writer lmao #director's cut asks #pls send in more guys i love talking about my fics!

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