#that's what a lot of people are essentially asking of their dogs

[darkwood-sleddog]

tbh i do feel like a lot of sport dog or general dog people's confusion regarding why certain gear not made for specific sports does not work for that said sport comes from a general lack of people who do not have a lot of personal experience wearing sport equipment or doing sports themselves.

Obviously people not having that experience is not a bad thing, we all learn and grow and it's great imo that people want to do active things with their dogs (any little bit you do is positive in my eyes). But it's just a fact to me that when you, personally, have experience with how YOU feel in different type of sports equipment, that knowledge certainly transfers to animal sports as well.

[sunderwight]

Headcanon that Shen Yuan was hotter than Shen Qingqiu, actually.

Like yeah SQQ being a cultivator gave him a boost to enough attributes + being in a stallion novel where everyone is either unrealistic hot or dog's butt ugly got the Shen Qingqiu body extra points, and he wasn't bad looking to begin with. Plus not being ill is vastly more important to the new Shen Qingqiu than those extra hotness points (Without a Cure notwithstanding). But part of the reason why he's kind of like, meh, at least I'm not hideous or anything, is because Shen Yuan's original body was a knock out.

I also like him as chronically ill, and, as many people know, beauty standards and sustained suffering are not as incompatible as they should be. Shen Yuan was conventionally attractive in part because conventional beauty standards seem to want everyone slowly dying all the time. But even setting that aside, the man had flawless bone structure, an appealing figure, captivating eyes, and the kind of voice that stopped people in their tracks.

All of which was a contributing factor to his antisocial lifestyle, actually. Despite the fact that Shen Yuan does enjoy company and requires a certain baseline of social enrichment for his enclosure, his internalized homophobia and closeting did not play well with overtures from interested parties (regardless of gender). The only way to minimize the odds of him being asked out on dates was to essentially become a shut-in, especially since even Shen Yuan can only make so many excuses before he himself starts to notice that he's going to a lot of effort to avoid specifically that avenue of socialization. Far better to just remove himself from any risk of it, and then vocally lament that oh no he's just too much of a nerd to get anywhere with women!

Anyway this largely doesn't matter much outside of sheer comedy potential for any situation where SY gets his old body/life back. Like imagine a reveal scenario where the System is going to transport them back to their old lives.

Shang Qinghua: well bro I guess this is gonna be the ultimate test of love, right?

Shen Yuan: what do you mean?

Shang Qinghua: our husbands are gonna see what we looked like back before we were glorious cultivators! they're going to have to track us down in our mundane, kinda shitty pre-transmigration lives! it's gonna be at least a little embarrassing, right?

Shen Yuan: *gets his old body back*

Shang Qinghua, normal human with average looks: ...

Shen Yuan, exemplary 11/10: ?

Shang Qinghua: what. the fuck?? bro what the fuck why are you hot???

Shen Yuan: don't make it weird

Shang Qinghua: make it weird??? why were you sitting at home reading my shitty novel when you could have been out there building your own harem???

Shen Yuan: stop exaggerating

Shang Qinghua: oh my god you've always been like this. this is it, isn't it? it wasn't even brain damage from the transmigration or something--

Shen Yuan: hey

Shang Qinghua: --you've just always been completely unaware, haven't you? every time I wrote a beautiful woman who didn't know her own appeal you'd be jumping down my throat--

Shen Yuan: because that's a stupid trope--!

Shang Qinghua: --JUMPING DOWN MY THROAT EXACTLY LIKE THAT but this whole time THIS WHOLE TIME it wasn't even a glow-up issue, you've just been that, personified, yourself--

Shen Yuan: look I know I'm not ugly but I'm not I'm hardly that good-looking

Shang Qinghua: YOU ARE NEVER ALLOWED TO CRITICIZE THAT TROPE AGAIN! oh my god. how many broken hearts did you leave behind when you died?!

Shen Yuan: none, I wasn't even seeing anyone--

Shang Qinghua: yeah full offense but I am nottt taking your word for that. I bet you had a harem you didn't know about in this lifetime too. I bet you had a fan club, like an anime prince

Shen Yuan: *mumbling*

Shang Qinghua: what was that?

Shen Yuan: I said... only in high school...

Shang Qinghua: oh my god

Shen Yuan: it wasn't a big deal!

Shang Qinghua: *frantically trying to see if he can find any trace of it on the internet now*

[teaboot]

OH FUCK YALL THOUGHT I WAS *ARMED GUARD*????

BRUHHHHHHHH

I'm the lowest level licensed security you can hire

I work foot patrol for shit like wet cement, construction sites, malls, libraries, outreach centers, and local events

My job is, essentially, human scarecrow

I am not permitted to carry a gun.

I am not permitted to carry a taser.

I am not permitted to carry pepper spray.

I am not permitted to carry a baton

I am not permitted to carry a knife or any multitool containing a knife

I don't have a plate vest

I'm not permitted to make any physical contact outside of administering first aid or in self defense, which must be made in minimal force required to ensure personal safety

I escort employees to make bank deposits, ask aggressive or violent people to leave, and take notes on safety hazards in patrolled areas

If someone bleeds, throws up, or takes a dump somewhere they shouldn't, it's between me and the custodian to make sure nobody slips in it bay bee

It is none of my business if someone is doing drugs. If they aren't an active danger to themselves or others then they're golden

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION

If you're selling drugs in clear view I will ask that you please do that elsewhere, ideally with more discretion. End of interaction

If you are using drugs in clear view I will tell you *exactly* where the property ends so you can smoke your bong 3 feet outside of that line where I can't do shit if someone complains. End of interaction

Site Security is not police. It is not LPO. Someone could point you out as you run off the site and say "I saw him shove a microwave down his pants and walk out" and it would be approximately none of my business.

THINGS THAT ARE MY BUSINESS

Overdose in the bathroom. I will verbally check twice that you are conscious, and if I get no response I will warn that I am coming in to check on you. If I find you on the ground I will again try to speak to you, warn that I am touching your shoulder, and give you a jiggle. If I can't wake you up I roll you into recovery and wait for paramedics.

Threatening or harassing staff. You cannot make passes at the highschooler operating the pretzel stand. You cannot tell the bank teller you'll "track him down eventually". The lady at the nail salon said she didn't want to marry you six times now and now I'm your problem

Abuse, endangerment, or neglect. If you leave your baby on the sidewalk so you can shop by yourself then I will be the jerk who ruins your day. If you hit your kid I will become very much your problem. If you locked your dog in the car with the windows rolled up six hours ago and it isn't getting up when I tap the window I'm gonna be the biggest pain in the ass you'll see all day

Safety hazards. Don't shoot off a bottle rocket in the parking lot. Yes it's very cool and you probably won't hit anything important but there's a pretty big empty lot like six blocks away man, what if you nail a kid or something. If you wanna take your bearded dragon to the food court, keep him in your coat or in a carrier. Climb the telephone pole on Tuesday because thats my day off

Client complaints/concerns. Boss says you've been here living in your car for three days and it's time to move on. You and I know it's been a month but between us if you switch locations every couple days around the lot she won't catch you again till at least May. As long as you don't leave a bunch of trash laying out we're good.

END NOTES

If you have tattoos on your face, throat, or hands and you wanna pull something you gotta be so incredibly discrete, is so incredibly easy for Law Enforcement to track you down you have no idea. I know like 3 guys with face tattoos in town, one of them's been my buddy since highschool and the other 2 were introduced to me like "watch out for a guy with a star on his cheek, his name is Patrick Sturblish, he's 43 years old and I saw him pocket a redbull once".

Always assume someone is operating the cameras live.

The courts are so insanely overwhelmed all the time, if you nab something small and vital like bandages, tampons, underwear, whatever and don't have a long list of priors usually even a cop won't bother trying to charge you. If I can't tell you not to steal for the consequences then at least don't get cocky about it

In my own experience if you walk into a big store and straight up tell someone "I don't want to steal but I need this very badly" then usually someone will find a way to get it to you

If someone tells me you're stealing on camera I will let you know that someone caught you and it's your last chance to put stuff back before they do something

If you pull a weapon on me or someone else while I'm working then I'm required to inform police so please don't do that thank you

[teenytinyecho]

Yandere! Cheerleader and Football Player Headcanons

Pairing: F! OC x GN! Reader x M! OC

Warnings: violence, weird behaviors in general

A/N: hello all! This is a more in depth headcanons about my yandere couple, Lana and Jake! I will open request and asks about them after posting this so please send anything you want for me to answer :)

Lana Seymour

BACKGROUND

‌Lana came from a rich and powerful family, they're considered new money. Her father's tech business started to gain momentum when she's only five years old. Because of this she rarely sees her father home.

‌Her mother was a stay at home mom before the business went successful. But after that, she got busy with charities and being a socialite—essentially helping to widen her father's connection.

‌Lana was already a spoiled child from the beginning, usually dictating around the house on what others should do if her parents aren't home. She dislikes slow people, and even worse those who deny her things that she wanted. With one phone call to her parents she could fire anyone working in the house. Why would Lana even lie to her parents about the maid stealing her jewelries anyway?

‌With her parents becoming more absent and only trusting her words, Lana learns to be more cunning and only striking when she really needs too. Although sometimes setbacks like her impatience and ego can ruin her plan.

‌The first time she met you was when she got grouped in with a bunch of nobodies for a group project. Others try to get her attention by flattering her. And you did too! But you only complemented her hair once and that's it. You continued to try to get work done while others were busy kissing her ass, and she likes that just a little bit.

‌You were nice but cordial, never really getting to close to her and keeping a distance. Lana doesn't know why because you're so boring and bland! You're literally wearing an atrocious outfit choice that could make her gag if her friends are wearing it. But she doesn't really mind it on you, really she thinks it suits you.

‌The project in Lana's mind went well (only because she offered to help since only you and her were the ones she thinks are capable of doing it) and after you all present your work, you actually thanked her! By giving her...a small, ugly keychain.

‌Really, Lana sometimes can't help control her faces and she did make a disgusted one seeing the ugly clay dog in her hand. But when you said that you made it yourself and only for her? That made Lana go crazy to say the least.

‌Never in her life did she received something handmade. Only the luxurious and high-end items gifted from her friends and family. And when you gave her this? Her heart skipped a beat, her hands turned sweaty, and her cheeks started to get warm. That's when she knew that you were something special to her.

PERSONALITY

‌Like I've said before, Lana is more or less like Regina George from Mean Girls. I would say that the difference between Lana and Regina is Lana I would say is more of a social butterfly. Sure she's only talking to the people she thinks are worthy of her time but she likes to keep them close if she ever needs them. Only a few people actually had a bad time with her and that's because she fiercely wants to keep her perfect reputation.

‌A bit of a control freak. Everything needs to fit her standards. She already has lots of control since she was young and no one ever denied her of anything so she needs to control every aspects of her life. And maye yours.

‌She's very hardworking for her passion. She lead her cheerleading team to many wins and trophies. She's also very serious about school and is already set up to enter one of the most prestigious universities in the country. Of course, you're coming with her if you even show her an ounce of interest to her or Jake.

‌She's very aware that people are only trying to use her (except for you and Jake) and that's why she sometimes tends to think other people are not that serious for her. Sure, she'll be friendly towards one girl but Lana honestly doesn't really care enough to know anything besides her name. Any information will be thrown out of her mind after the girl goes away anyway.

TENDENCIES

‌She's very nice and touchy with you, but not to the point of discomfort. She might touch your face or hair a bit longer than usual but she'll back away if she notices any suspicion on your face.

‌Already knows all of your information. Where you live, your phone number, your phone password, likes and dislikes—everything she needs to know for the future where the three of you lives happy together.

‌She will always keep an eye for you. Especially pesky people she deems not worthy of your time. Her work's is slightly cut when she realized you never really had a best friend in school, so that made her really happy.

‌When you're closer, Lana will try to get to sleepover at your place. She'll whine and pout cutely and tries to even offer you to stay at her house on the weekends. She's just trying to expand her collection of trinkets from you. So far, the most precious thing she owns is your favorite shirt that you forgot when you're changing from gym class. She likes to wear it with a smile on her face when she's at home, working on her homework.

‌Overall this girl is in love and obsessed with you, but she is trying to be respectful while removing any harm from you from a distance.

Jake Savile

BACKGROUND

‌Jake's family is old money. They own many hotel chains that existed before his mother was even alive. His family dynamics is not perfect, he knows his mother and father only married for business so he doesn't really expects them to love him like a normal parent does.

‌That doesn't make him to act spoiled though. He's trained to hold the family's reputation since he was young, never acting up or humiliating his family name. He's a blank doll that only smiles politely when meeting other esteemed families.

‌He does like watching interesting things. Observing his parents fighting, his cousins bullying a maid, anything that catches his attention he will watch with a hard stare.

‌He's basically a freak that likes to observe things that catch his interest, and when someone catches him in the act—he'll only smile and walk away like nothing happened. Who's going to believe that Mrs. Savile's youngest son was only watching when his cousin pushed someone off the stairs?

‌Once he got into high school, he felt a little free than he is at home. He likes to do sports so he joined the football team. Although his parents were apprehensive at first, that quickly changed when he started to get more wins for the school and people in town started to talk more about him.

‌He started to notice you after he dated Lana in freshmen year. She'll tell him stories about you that might freak any normal person, but he'll only nod and listen with an interested gaze. He's curios to say the least the more Lana talks about you and the chance came when he's faced with you when you're interviewing him for the school newspapers.

‌He was...disappointed to say the least. You were the one Lana's been boasting about? You, who look so boring that you might blend with a crowd seamlessly. He hides his disappointment with a polite smile as you asked him questions about the state championship that the school won.

‌You were nice and that's about it. Nothing really made him interested in you. But he had to admit he saw a few things that perked up his attention every now and then.

‌He really thought you're only acting nice to Lana because you wanted to use her. But that quickly changed when he saw you confronting one of the members of your club about asking inappropriate questions to Lana.

‌Jake had a joint interview with Lana so you had a plus one to help record the interview and also ask questions. He lets out a small scoff when he saw who's sitting besides you, he knows the boy had issues with Lana so he's not surprised when he started asking inappropriate questions not even about the competition that they've won.

‌He noticed your laid back nature turned more tense the more he asked questions. And after the interview was done, Jake was grabbing his bag from the locker room when he stumbled upon the two of you in a heated argument.

‌He's surprised at how you defended Lana strongly. He thought you're only tolerating her to be honest, but he quickly changed his mind when he saw you snap at the boy and slamming your locker shut. With one last glare, he saw you walking away with muttered curses.

‌He might stay with you for a while. Maybe Lana did have a point about you being special. But Jake's going to take this slow and he'll be sure to observe you all the time to make up his mind.

PERSONALITY

‌Jake is actually a nice to everyone. He's basically Lana without the mindset of everyone is beneath them. He's trained to keep his family's reputation so he's learned to be polite and play nice to everyone.

‌More calm and controlled than Lana is, but he can get angry or annoyed by people who are kissing his ass. He knows straight away if people are trying to get close to him to use him, but sometimes he'll let them go on for a while to see if something interesting happens.

‌Very caring and protective about the people he loves. Lana is currently number one in his list (you're slowly getting on top though) but he knows Lana can handle problems by herself so he's usually hanging around in the background as support.

‌Has a more nastier side than Lana is. He's from old money with family members backstabbing anyone to get ahead of each other. He's learned this from his parents and siblings, watching from the side and taking notes on how he can do it better. If he has any pesky problems, especially people, he has connections and the money to make it all disappear.

TENDENCIES

‌He'll always know what's going on in your life. You'd never see him for three days straight and then he's asking your trip to the mall. And when you asked how'd he know about it, he'll just shrug and smile before giving you a lie.

‌Likes to help you with a lot of things. He'll offer you to carry your bag after school when you're hanging out, maybe even sneak a peek on what's inside the bag. He's curious and likes to admire the trinkets on your bag like keychains and pins. Maybe he'll even buy the three of you something to match together.

‌Very motherly? He likes to take care of you and make sure you're staying healthy. Buys you snacks and drinks, maybe even carrying extra medicines for you. He will glare at you and poke your sides when you skip a meal.

‌No one will know he's obsessed with you because he's really good at pretending. But the mask will crack every now and then, especially when you're getting too close to someone. He knows you don't have any friends, so why are you being touchy with someone he's never seen you interact with?

‌Rest assured he will try to intimidate anyone. He'll never get his own hands dirty on his first try though. Like I've said he has connections and he will use it first, and when that's not working? That's when he takes off his goody two shoes mask and just go wild.

[stararch4ngelqueen]

grocery shopping with jason, beyond obsessed with doing domestic things with this big strong sometimes broody guy

Idk why the idea of Jason being the only sane person if the BatFam went to Costco or Sam’s club is funny to me.

Grocery shopping at night only. Jason is your scary dog privilege. I didn’t mean for this to be so short, I’ll probably do a target run at some point 😅

—

“Smell this one.” You hold up two various body washes for Jason to smell. One is a creamy, soft vanilla, the other is a fragrant, artificial strawberry with lilac leaves printed on the bottle.

“They both smell fine,” he insists after smelling them. “Why’re you asking me?”

“Cause I know you use it sometimes.”

He says nothing at this quiet truth. Maybe sometimes he’d reach for your bottle during his exhausted showers. Maybe he didn’t care if the smell clung to him for a good while. He didn’t mind one bit.

“That one.” He points towards the scent he preferred.

Essentials first. That was the quiet deal before getting produce. You loved asking for his opinions on a lot of stuff, since you practically ‘lived in the same bed.’

Jason didn’t particularly mind when he’d tread along with you when you wanted a new soap or lotion. Sometimes it was kind of amusing the array of options their turned out to be. You had a good nose, picking out scents he adored smelling on you every time he held you close, invading his hoodies every time you wore them.

“Do we have popcorn at home?” Came your first question after his arms settled snugly around your waist, holding you content to his chest.

“Half a box yeah, why?” You try to tilt your head up, but fail when Jason purposely rests his chin ontop.

“Just wondering,” he answers. “You ‘bout done here?”

“Yeah. Why? Too many single girls making eye contact?”

“More like a ton of single mothers.” He chuckles, breaking into a laugh when you lightly slap the back of his hand.

Checking for produce was a team effort. Sometimes you can’t remember if you have enough of this or that, but Jason’s good memory usually came in hand.

“You had one of these before?” You question whilst holding up a spiky, untrustworthy vegetable after grabbing some cheery looking bell peppers.

“Uh, no? Don’t think so. Don’t know how you would eat those.”

“We could ask Alfred,” you reply while slightly rocking the cart back and forth. “Anything else?”

“I’m thinking.” Jason keeps still, tilting his head back in thought. “I’m thinking got everything. Anything else you want, babe?”

You would say yes, but you don’t really know what you’re particularly in the mood for after filling up your shopping list, having extra money to spend.

This led to the both of you wandering around the store, slightly vacant due to most people settling at home, eating their meals or spending time with their families.

You peer along the freezer windows as you stroll by, nearly coming to a stop after examining some interesting coffee ice cream.

Bump.

The sudden soft prod of the cart frame against your behind made you scoff, turning over your shoulder to peer at a smirking Jason.

“Oops.”

“Rude!”

“Sorry. You walk too slow.”

Scoffing, you grab a bag of frozen blueberries and turn around, witnessing Jason quickly and carelessly toss a bag of frozen avocado into the cart.

“Hey, theirs a system Todd!” You step closer, quickly rearranging the produce and snacks back into their ‘original’ spots.

“Says the woman playing Tetris with our food.”

“The avocados crushing the bread!” You gesture towards the produce. You click your tongue and scoff again to Jason’s delight as you left the bread untouched.

Good thing too. You almost saw the ice cream he had hidden underneath it.

—

Going grocery shopping with the mans 🧍��‍♀️

[rockyourworldcc]

(kiss and) make-up

(makeup artist reader x billie - one day working for Colbert Late Show, you are assigned as singer billie eillish's make-up artist. it seems as if she wants more than just a make over...)

"across there is your room, ms. eilish. we'll send two people to help do your hair and makeup in a bit. meanwhile feel free to settle down." the man spoke, hands pointing to the room he mentioned. billie was short next to the gentleman with earpieces and a belt containing all sorts of security equipment. she nodded, the hat she had on only made a part of her face visible.

"y/n! our girl is here!" Jessica called out as she walked into the room. she was the girl who did hair, while you were the girl who did makeup. you lifted your head up from the bag you were organizing, filled with different brushes. "I haven't got my shit ready yet, give me like 10 and i'll be there." she kept on saying as she rushed to one of the corners in the room, the mirrors there reflecting every move. "alright, I'll go without you then." you said to your coworker as you slung a bag across your shoulder. she nodded as she made noise trying to gather her stuff. your hand reached to grab the rest of your equipment before going out the door.

your eyes glanced through the halls as you looked at the titles at the doors. eilish, that was the name you were looking for. she was just another person on the show, no big deal, no problems should occur, right?

you push opened the cracked door with your shoulder, entering the room with your bags in hand. you froze when you saw her through the mirror. rosy cheeks, perfect nose, hypnotizing eyes, plump lips, perfect wavy hair, eyebrows that suited her so well, and those hands... she was looking at her phone, sat on the chair infant of the well lighted mirror. she looked so beautiful.

she lifted her head up from her phone, "oh, hi!" she said as she lowered her hand. your eyes widened as you realized she was talking to, that 5 second period where you just did nothing but stare at her was definitely the worst encounter you had with someone. you snapped out of your trance, eyesight clearing as you intruduced yourself: "hi, uh- I'm gonna be your makeup artist today." you said, glaring a smile. she returned the smile as she showed her dimples. fuck, why did she have to be so good looking?

you walked towards the desk she was sitting at, placing your items. you tucked a strand of hair behind you ear, as you fixed your posture. "alright, so do you have any special requests?" you asked, looking at her through the mirror. she seemed to look at you confused, brows furrowed, not knowing what to say. "like what do you wanna do today?" you asked. she took a second to think, "uh, probably the show, after that I might take a bite to eat, and walk my dog-"

"no, im talking about your makeup!" you said, laughing at her joke. "oohhhhhh!" she let out in realization. she joined your laughter, "wait, I just thought you guys made me look natural, what else do you do?" she said, her head turning from the mirror. her eyes met up with yours, you almost felt like you could pass out from the intensity of her eyes. "well," you started, gathering yourself. "I can make you look like Chappell Roan or maybe Amy Winehouse, or I can just do what I usually do." you said. "usual is good." she said, biting her lip. wait. biting her lip.

you couldn't help but take a glance at her lips and back to her eyes. why did she just bite her bottom lip?

"alright then." you said as you spun her back towards the mirror. you got out your essentials. as you were trying to color match her, she started conversation.

"have you been doing this for long now?" billie asked you. you never stopped doing your job. "what, makeup? eh, been a while actually." you said as you placed down the primer in hand, grabbing the foundation you had found suitable for her skin color. "do you like it?" she kept on asking. "yeah, I get to meet a lot of new people. and celebrity crushes..." your voice trailed on towards the end as you lifted up your eyebrows. once again biting her lip, she looked at your face through the mirror. "am I one of them?" she said, her voice low and attractive. you felt your heart rate increase, and your hand stopped near her face. okay, act calm. "would you like to be?" you said, your bold side showing as you connected your eyes from the mirror. your head leaned in out of instinct before-

"I'm here! I'm here!" Jessica ran into the room, stoping the tension between the two of you. billie's and your eyes dropped to the ground, billie almost looked ashamed. Jessica stopped and looked confused at you, "oh sorry, am I distrupting something?"

"there you are jess! can I quickly talk with you outside?" you quickly cut her off, hastily walking towards. you pulled her by the arm, not caring if her stuff falls on the ground. "what the fuck!" you said, whispering as you roughly punched her arm. "what?" she said, brows furrowed, tone offended. "why would you say that?!" you said, punching her arm again. "okay you don't have to do that every time!" she warned you. "nothing is going on between us! so shut your mouth!" you said, not caring about her warning and punching her arm playfully again. she mouthed the word "ow" as you walked back to billie.

"sorry, that my coworker Jessica. she'll do your hair." you said as you rummaged through your bag. "oh, I never actually caught your name?" billie asked you, brows raised. her gaze was smooth, almost comforting. "call me y/n." you said, smile appearing on your face. "thats a beautiful name."

"are you sure im not interrupting-" Jessica says as she walks towards you and billie. you cut her of by yelling her name, trying to save yourself from this nightmare.

-

"turn your head towards me" you said, hand grabbing the bronzer you picked out for her. she did so, her eyes shut when she realized she was on your chest level. as you applied the product, you couldn't help but feel her to take a glance at your body. no- she wouldn't. you were just her makeup artist. nothing more.

"other side now" you said, taping her cheek. you could visibly see a change in her face now. and it wasn't because of the makeup. wait, was she... blushing?

"okay you can stop." you said, taping her cheek again. it wasn't a special move. yet it had so much affect.

-

"alright!" you say as you spin her around in the chair. "someone's looking pretty!" you say as she chuckles at your words. "yeah, thanks to you." she said, a nonchalant act on her, but her red face told it all. your eyes sparkled as you looked at her. "where's Jessica, id like to thank her too." she said as she turned to take a glance at the room. "oh, she had to excuse herself. because if she didn't I'd have to murder her." you say, a playful tone in your voice but god knows how she drove you insane today. she laughs at your joke, getting up from her seat as she lightly fixed her outfit. "I have to..." she said, her fingers pointing to the door saying she has to leave for the show. "oh! yeah, right!" you say as you follow her to the door.

she turns to you right at the door frame. you lean against it, letting the frame carry you weight. "see you later" billie said as she winked at you, turning her back and walking away after. she winked at you?

you felt your cheeks get red and your lips quiver into a smile. you were so swoon. "so... when's the wedding?" Jessica crept on you with a bag of chips in hand. "oh, fuck off."

[vigilskeep]

a quick guide to dog lords, telling your arls from your teyrns, and generally how ferelden works

okay, this isn't quite what anon asked for, by which i mean not at all, but unfortunately they activated my interest in some of my favourite lore. it should hopefully contain a lot of the relevant stuff and i’ll try to branch out to less fereldan specific information in other posts!

okay, let’s start with the hierarchy. there’s four kinds of noble in ferelden

royalty: you know who these guys are. except for during the orlesian occupation, ever since ferelden became one kingdom, it’s been ruled by the theirin family. which i think is for 388 years, i really hope that’s right, i got out a calculator

teyrns: these are super powerful lords, basically banns so powerful that other banns swear fealty to them. they’re second only to the king, who is essentially just the most powerful one of them. there used to be a lot of them, but with one dynasty in power for so long, that kind of opposition has been eroded away. there are only two remaining: the couslands of highever in the north, and the mac tirs of gwaren in the south

arls: these are extra special banns. they answer to a teyrn or king and hold a strategic fortress for them. we know of six—amaranthine, south reach, denerim, redcliffe, west hills, and edgehall—but i’m unsure if that’s because they are only six or because there are unnamed others

banns: these are your common or garden noble, the lowest ranking and most common. this is your local lord type. they seem to vary the most in power, though, with some banns having big speaking roles in the landsmeet

but i kind of should have written that list in the opposite direction. what do i mean by that? well, in your standard medieval hierarchy, and in a lot of the rest of thedas, power comes down from the king, who lets you hold the land. but in ferelden, most of the land is owned by freeholders: commoners, well-off enough to own their land but still not by any means nobles.

how does that work? well, let’s say i’m a freeholder.

i own my land, but thedas is a rough place. if i want to keep my land, i’d better swear fealty to a bann. i’ll pay him a portion of the goods produced on my land, and in return, he’ll protect my land from anyone wanting to beat me up and take all my goods... and also, you know, not beat me up himself, as he probably would if i didn’t have any bann looking after me. it kind of sounds like he has all the power, right? like a medieval protection racket? it’s certainly how he gets his power and wealth

so i, freeholder harker, have signed up with bann jeff. it makes sense, because he’s the closest to my freehold, and i want soldiers to actually get here in time if i’m in trouble. that’s why my family has been swearing fealty to his family for generations. it’s just how things are done

but the thing is: i hate bann jeff. maybe he takes too much of my harvests, maybe he sides with a different freeholder when we go to him with a dispute, maybe his men don’t mind their pleases and thank yous when they come for my goods. i’m well within my rights to say fuck bann jeff and leave him. especially if there’s another bann nearby who would be perfectly happy to take my goods instead and treat me right. and the less freeholders bann jeff has, the less resources and men he has to make a fuss about it with. if bann jeff pisses off enough people, he might not have any freeholders left at all. and where will his wealth and power come from then? maybe soon he won’t be a bann at all

of course, bann jeff’s family might feud with the family of the bann that stole me away for a few hundred years. but that’s hardly my problem, is it? “courting” someone else’s vassals is apparently the biggest cause of conflict within the bannorn

anyway, this isn’t just how banns work; it’s how all power theoretically works in ferelden. there are no serfs/“unfree” men. every peasant has a right to go where he will and choose which freeholder he works for, just as every freeholder has the right to choose their bann, and banns who swear to teyrns can break away. (the latter is probably less common because a teyrn could fuck you up. i’m guessing you’d have to get the king’s backing about it to survive that.) and even the king answers to his lessers in the landsmeet, the super ancient gathering of nobles where law is made, which can override the king on any matter of law. (but they’re not going to do it if the king is really popular or powerful, because. you know. there’s a limit to all things called common sense and they would prefer not to get squashed about it.) but generally, everyone who holds power in ferelden has to curry favours with their so-called lessers in order to keep their goodwill.

everywhere else in thedas thinks this is weird as hell, by the way. having to court the approval of those beneath you? even the king having to do that? wtf? but the level of freedom means everything to fereldans. it’s their highest ideal and they’re really proud of it.

(the people who really don’t have a voice are what the ttrpg calls “low freemen”, which according to its handbook, consists of criminals, prostitutes, and elves. they still have the right to freedom of movement and to be paid for their work, but they’re not going to have freeholders and banns seeking their favour and speaking for them, and they typically have to resort to bribery for entrance to cities, their homes are bought and sold by others on a whim, things like that. ultimately it makes their position incredibly vulnerable to abuse, as we see in the games. i’m sure we’ve all played the tabris origin. there’s a reason the potential boon to get a bann for the alienage is so wild.)

so, let’s say you made it, everyone loves and/or tolerates you, and you’re a noble. what good does that do you and what can you do? firstly, you have a voice in the landsmeet, which is super important and means the king wants your goodwill and advice. more generally, you have three basic functions of a noble: raising taxes/tribute, commanding soldiers, and dispensing justice. nobles are expected to live off the wealth provided by their land and it would be hugely looked down on if they did work instead, with exceptions for, like, military careers and the chantry, which are respectable for their status. they raise militia from the commoners when necessary, and they also have trained soldiers or possibly knights (see postscript) in their service. that means you can protect your land and you can win glory and spoils when the kingdom goes to war, it also means you’ll be expected to provide those men when your liegelord calls for them. and lastly the law is their responsibility. remember how in the awakening dlc you had to make judgements as the arl of amaranthine? like that! the smaller scale you are, the smaller scale it’s going to be. in turn, if you want a dispute sorted by a higher power, you have to go up to your liegelord, maybe a teyrn or the king, or if you can’t get one of them, a more powerful bann or arl in the area. possibly the chantry would be an alternate option? if it’s just about finding someone you will both listen to, which is usually the main issue

some privileges other than the standard “power over those beneath you” that you can typically expect to belong to the noble class, even if it’s not specific to dragon age: the right to carry a sword, the right to have a coat of arms, the right to precedence on formal occasions and a special seat up front in your local chantry... sometimes niche ones, like fabrics and clothing that are only permissible to wear for people of a certain rank, so it distinguishes them. you can expect favours from/common class interests with your king, you would expect to be given a trial or treated chivalrously if things did not go your way, depending on era you might be captured for ransom in battle rather than killed outright, you probably have exemptions from certain royal taxation... etc. etc.

that’s what i have! i hope these are some helpful fundamentals and that anyone who has more knowledge than me on any aspect feels welcome to contribute it

P.S. as an aside, i’m a little confused about the fereldan use of knights. they definitely exist as lesser nobility, but i don’t understand how they fit into the hierarchy. a real knight was typically a vassal who held land from his liegelord and fought for him in exchange. i... don’t know how that works in the context of land ownership mostly going upwards. they’re definitely around, anyone addressed as ser is a knight, you have the knights of redcliffe and people like ser jory and ser cauthrien. (someone in an order like the templars has the rank of knight and gets ser and everything, but is not a noble.) as a rule of thumb i think generally they’re probably just members of noble families with that dedicated military training and no greater title to lay claim to? i’m basing that on stuff like nathaniel howe being sent as a squire to his mother’s cousin, a chevalier; if he’d completed that he probably would have been a knight unless/until he inherited his father’s place? i don’t know. i’m making this up. and on the other hand, there’s very little distinction in fereldan between your regular noble and a some kind of warrior class, which is why i struggle to see the purpose. (there are also inexplicable career soldiers who are not knights. what the hell is funding that upkeep and armour, buddy. you and whose land ownership? this is why you were fighting the darkspawn with your whole arms out, aveline. stop trying to imply ferelden has a standing army you can go off and join. yes i see you carver lore. i will not buy it.) ANYWAY, because knights are more prevalent in certain areas, i do wonder if it’s an import from the long orlesian occuption, based on the knightly order of chevaliers? i don’t fucking know. worth chewing on

[dol--blathanna]

Thinking a lot about Orym choosing a rabbit when asked what animal he would pick if cursed with lycanthropy.

Because, it makes sense. Orym is small, quick, agile, jumps well, and is highly perceptive. That definitely evokes rabbit imagery. But a lot of Orym’s identity is also tied up with being a protector – giving people AC bumps, the shield being as much a part of his fighting style as his sword, even his title: Saviour Blade of the Tempest. He wants to be a “Shield that protects Exandria”; his priorities about saving the gods are less about the gods themselves, and more about protecting the people of Exandria from the unintended consequences and bloodshed of releasing Predathos. And it would’ve been very easy to pick a large, strong predator to try and evoke the sense of a protector – a wolf, for example, an animal associated with loyalty and protecting its pack. Yet Orym chose a rabbit.

And I think that’s interesting, because rabbits are often seen as ‘cute’ animals – but they’re also a prey animal. In fact, they’re a common food source for many animals across several ecosystems: foxes, wolves, wild cats, dogs, birds of prey like eagles or owls, coyotes, stoats, and humans (and that’s just off the top of my head). Rabbits are skittish, easily frightened; to be rabbit-hearted is to be timid or cowardly. They are not generally associated with fierceness or prowess in fighting. Mice and rats are prey animals too, but typically seen as vermin (rabbits are sometimes seen as vermin too, but a farmer could eat a rabbit – they wouldn’t eat a rat). Deer are prey, but they have hooves and antlers that bring a danger to hunting them, for any animal – the difficulties of hunting rabbits are more related to their evasiveness, speed and good hearing than any life-threatening danger they might pose. Rabbits are, first and foremost, prey animals. They are killed and eaten, so that another animal might live.

Which made me think a lot about one of Orym’s other key traits: self-sacrifice. Bait and switch doesn’t just bump up his ally’s ACs, it specifically switches their place to put him directly in harm’s way. Goading attack is meant to encourage enemies to attack him instead of his friends. He literally made a deal with a hag, essentially exchanging his own life for power to protect his friends. How many times has he gone down in a fight? He’s not the only tank – but unlike Ashton (and Chetney, who also uses ‘self-sacrifice’ in his fighting style with his blood curses) he has no abilities to reduce the damage from the hits he takes (barbarian rage and the werewolf form).

(Side note: I think it’s pretty interesting that Chetney, the wolf, has attacked Orym, the rabbit, more than anyone else when losing control. That Orym’s facial scar was given to him by a friend, not a foe).

Of course, Orym isn’t the only character with self-sacrificial tendencies (FCG wins by a landslide), but I just can’t stop thinking about how weirdly perfect it is that he chose a rabbit for his animal. Rabbits are prey animals. They are eaten, so that other animals may live. Orym takes the hits, he goads and switches with his team mates to put himself in danger, he makes a deal with a hag at the cost of his own life. He’s a soldier, throwing his life away for a cause over and over again because Ludinus must be stopped, because Keyleth has put her trust in him, because it’s the only way to protect his friends, to protect everyone, because it’s the right thing to do. Orym is a rabbit. He’s always been a rabbit. That day in Zephrah, it could have easily been Orym who died instead of Will and Derrig – “unfortunate but necessary sacrifices”, as Ludinus viewed the attack. It’s unfortunate they had to die, but it was for the greater good, according to Ludinus. It’s unfortunate that a rabbit has to die, but it will feed a family of foxes, or stoats, or even a hungry human, so it’s acceptable, right?

Orym is a rabbit. He is giving himself to a greater cause that could very easily kill him – he already willingly signed his life away to Nana Morri. Because that’s what rabbits do. They die to feed others.

And the theme of being disposable is present across the entire group, not just in Orym – Bell’s Hells has been called a “party of NPCs” before. Aside from FCG’s death, I’d say Laudna perhaps fits this theme the best: she was literally murdered and hung from a tree simply because she looked similar to Vex, acting as a warning to adventurers she had never met before. But FCG’s death was – rightfully – viewed as a terrible tragedy by the group. Laudna’s decision to remove Delilah, finally freeing herself from her abuser and emphasising she is more, and deserves to be more, than just some disposable puppet – this was rightfully viewed as a very good thing! But Orym seems to be embracing this identity of self-sacrifice instead, rather than this mindset being properly challenged or acknowledged as a bad thing. After all, there’s no time. There’s too much at stake. Keyleth, Bell’s Hells, all the memories of those who have died in this fight, all the people who might die if Predathos is released and kickstarts a second Calamity – they’re all relying on him, right? A rabbit feeding so many animals with his sacrifice. And it’s not malicious compared to the way that, say, Delilah killing Laudna was an incredibly evil, fucked up and unnecessary thing to do. If Orym died to save everyone else, well, at least everyone else would be saved, right? Saving lives is good, isn't it? How could he complain?

Because rabbits are prey animals, and Orym is a rabbit too. Destined to die so that another animal may feed.

Except, that’s not true. Rabbits are more than just prey. They’re highly social, and thrive best living with others. They’re playful, they enjoy running around and kicking their legs just to show their enjoyment. They’re inquisitive and mischievous, even being associated with tricksters in some folklore and stories. They’re also associated with innocence, playfulness, spring, youth – all manner of things, depending on the story or culture. And they’re not helpless, either, even if they might be thought of as such. They can bite and scratch and draw blood quite easily if they want to! In fact, freezing up isn’t their only response when being attacked by a predator, they are known to fight back if cornered. They can sprint quickly, they have excellent hearing and senses of smell, they know how to evade predators.

Rabbits are prey, and they are also survivors. They have their own social dynamics, their own habits and dislikes and preferences. They are more than just a wolf’s meal. And Orym is more than a soldier, too. He’s more than a “necessary sacrifice”, he’s more than just a shield and sword. He deserves more than to die for a cause. He deserves a happy ending, just like everyone else. I hope he remembers that.

Orym is a rabbit. And the message isn’t that he shouldn’t be a rabbit. It’s that rabbits are worthy of surviving, too.

[rad-batson]

Damian Wayne: Figure Skater

or: Damian Wayne Fluff Because Damian Wayne Deserves Joy and Happiness <3

Damian Wayne prides himself on being good at everything he does. He never half-asses anything.

Damian has tried tons of different skills before. He’s mastered dozens of martial arts, become fluent in over thirty languages, earned several PhDs, and he’s not even a teenager yet. Why? He needs to be the best or it’s not good enough.

But there are only so many skills that give him the same joy as when he started. Studio art is his favorite and has always been a constant for him, but he’s yet to find something else. Something that truly invigorates him.

At 12, Damian watches the Winter Olympics with Dick. It’s his first ever time viewing the Olympics, and he doesn’t really know what he was expecting, but Damian is…kind of underwhelmed.

Everyone talked about how the Olympics are supposed to be this grandiose display of the world’s talents, but most of it’s pretty boring.

Curling is boring. Alpine is slow and monotonous. Bobsledding is repetitive, and sled dog racing seems unethical.

But then figure skating comes on. And Damian is captivated.

Without even realizing, he moved right in front of the television and watched an hour of figure skating uninterrupted. Dick notices and smiles.

“Aren’t they cool?” Dick asks. Damian, with his eyes still glued to the screen, nods. “Wanna go to the local rink with me and try it out? It’s even more fun than it looks.”

That pulls Damian out of his trance, and he closes himself off. “No. I don’t need to.”

He just thought it was cool, okay? And he totally doesn’t want to try it himself. And he totally isn’t worried that he won’t be good at it and fall like an idiot in front of his older brother if he does.

It’s just that…it’s so cool!!

Damian knows agility, okay? He can do flips and tricks with ease, and he knows how to do it with both grace and poise. But these people? They can do it on ice! With blades on their feet!!

OF COURSE DAMIAN WANTS TO DO COOL TRICKS WITH SHARP BLADES STRAPPED TO HIS FEET

Admittedly, he goes through a two-month-long period of pretending he isn’t dying to try it. He almost completely forgets. Then, by complete coincidence, Cass and Duke invite him to an indoor skating rink, and he caves. Maybe it’s not that hard.

Spoiler: Figure Skating is Hard

Within five seconds, he falls flat on his face. How do people do this? Cass and Duke say it’s normal, but he still refuses to leave the wall the whole time out of shame.

Once they’re home, however, Damian realizes how stupid that was. He’s Damian Wayne Al Ghul. He can’t just give up! What would the rest of his family think?! What if they go back one day, and he just falls flat on his face again? There’s no excuse the second time, and he doesn’t want the others to think he can’t do it.

So that night, he sneaks back into the rink after hours and tries again. And again. And again. And again.

On the fifth try, he is able to make it all the way around the rink. He realizes that he’s distributing his weight wrong. (Stupid mistake, of course. He’s essentially balancing on knives.) That makes it a lot easier, but he’s still flapping his arms around like a bird.

He spends two more hours improving his balance, then decides that’s good enough. He did what he came here to do, and he doesn’t need to come back.

Two days later, he comes back. (I mean, who knows? Maybe, he’s gotten better.) He didn’t, obviously. But what harm is there in spending some more time on the ice? Other than the collection of bruises he acquires.

He falls way more than he’d like to admit, but once he teaches himself how to do that safely, it’s actually kind of fun. He circles the rink countless times, figures out to start and stop (though it is admittedly a very ungraceful way of stopping.) He can even kind of control his speed.

So he’s done, right? He did it! He can now ice skate to a degree that isn’t mortifying for a beginner. He doesn’t need to come back.

The Short Program

One week and four visits later, he admits that he is hooked. He wants to see how far he can go with this. But he can’t just improve without proper guidance, so he decides to take Tim’s advice for once and use the internet.

That’s when he really starts improving. Exponentially. He pours over articles and videos and diagrams about gliding, stopping, pivots, crossovers, and finally some simple spins. Just basics, of course.

He also purchases his own pair of skates because the rental ones he’s been “borrowing” suck. And they smell. And he forges a membership card (you know, so there’s no paper trail.)

His original goal is to make it to free skate level, but once he’s there, he can’t stop. It’s just so gratifying to add another skill to his repertoire. If he can do front crossovers, then he can surely master them backward. Closed Mohawks shouldn’t be that bad if the open Mohawks were so easy. Before he knows it, he’s spending hours every week developing his skills.

After a few months, his improvement plateaus because the jumps prove difficult. He doesn’t know how to build up the speed, and his stealth and fighting techniques (which he’s been borrowing from thus far) just make him wipe out. So he works on that for a bit and tries to figure out what he’s doing wrong.

During a JL meeting, The Flash happens to mention a rogue who used to figure skate. Lisa Snart, or the Golden Glider, is a famous figure skater from the 90s, but she was kicked from the Olympic team due to her life of crime. Now, she jumps between both petty crime and vigilantism.

Damian tracks her down and claims to be researching the sport for a school assignment. Yeah, it’s a bit thin of a cover story. If she wanted to see through his lie, she’d only have to break into his school and check his teacher’s assignment book, but once he laments about how every other skater is busy, and he was so surprised to learn that she was no longer skating when she’s clearly so talented, Lisa happily tells him all of the secrets to the sport.

For a few months, he applies her techniques and even asks her to skate for him a few times, recording her from multiple angles. “I value the quality of my education,” he explains. She sees through the lie but doesn’t say anything. (And somehow, he doesn’t particularly care.)

In the coming year, Bruce notices a change in how Robin moves during patrol. If he had to describe it…well, there’s a lot more power behind his movement. He redistributes his momentum with ease, which proves extremely valuable. There’s more height to his jumps and speed in his attacks. On top of it all, he can reorient himself quicker.

Bruce praises Damian once they’re back at the cave and even allows him more freedom during missions. Damian totally doesn’t cry about it in his room.

The Free Skate

Damian refuses to let anyone watch him practice for YEARS to save his pride. I mean, yes, he’s at free skate level 5—thanks, Lisa—but he’s not at level 6 yet! And that won’t take too long, right? Maybe they can know once he’s mastered his quad axel (which is a totally doable goal. He’s not overachieving. He’s Damian Wayne Al Ghul.)

Next, he works on transitions. At first, he copies other skaters’ forms, then he slowly develops his own. It’s sharp in some ways and fluid in others like he’s been on ice his whole life but he’s got places to be.

At about 15 or 16, he invites Jon to come with him one day. He shows him “a few spins” (triple axels) and Jon immediately starts encouraging him to join some kind of showcase or competition.

Damian’s response is “No! I’m not good enough yet. I still can’t land a quad axel. That’s insulting.”

Cue Jon’s family-friendly “bitch please” face. He says, “Okay, but you need to show someone else. I can’t be the only person in the world who knows.” so they get Billy in on it.

He’s obviously good at keeping secrets, considering he hid his age and the fact he was homeless from the JL for five years.

Billy also loses his shit, but he’s more understanding about the “I don’t want to tell anyone else” thing. Thus, Jon and Billy become Damian’s cover for every time he’s caught sneaking out. (He was running out of excuses anyway.)

Bruce hears that Damian is hanging out with Jon and Billy every week, gives him a look, and tells him he’s proud that he’s making friends.

Damian nods along, thanking all the gods in Billy’s head that his secret is safe. If Bruce doesn’t have any reason to snoop, then he won’t. Simple as that. The greatest detective in the world doesn’t need to start snooping.

During the next Winter Olympics, Damian watches every single skating performance from the comfort of his room. (Tim can hear him yelling at his TV through the walls but doesn’t have the energy to question it.)

Jon and Billy are his cheerleaders. They go out for lunch then head to the rink with him and mess around while Damian practices. Sometimes, they spend all day together. Doing homework, gossiping, playing fun little games.

Damian keeps mentioning the quad axel to them until Jon looks it up and says, “Um, hey Dami? Apparently, the quad axel is like…almost physically impossible. You know that, right?“ “If Lisa Snart and Ilia Malinin can do it, so can I.” “Okay, Mr. PhD.” Still, they don’t doubt him for a second.

Damian teaches them some stuff during a public skate in Fawcett City. Jon cheats multiple times by floating a tiny bit to keep his balance. Billy falls a lot.

As much as he likes being with his friends, though, Damian finds himself skating more to clear his head rather than to improve or socialize.

When he has a bad patrol or gets into some trouble he could have avoided, he’ll sneak into the rink alone and skate for hours.

He’ll pour all of his frustration into the music and carve it out into the ice until he’s exhausted and lying down with the cold surface against his back, letting it sink some sense into him.

It’s a good outlet. Kind of like his art, but there are only so many pencils you can snap in anger before your dad cuts your art supply budget. Bruce doesn’t know about this yet.

Six months later, when Damian lands his first quad axel in front of Jon and Billy, they all scream for five consecutive minutes and celebrate with hot chocolate and sorbet.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Tim asks when he’s back home. Damian tries to hide his smile but fails spectacularly. “Oh, nothing.” He’s never had a problem with schooling his emotions before, but anything is possible now. Even a quad fucking axel.

Competition Season

During patrol one day, Dick sees Damian spinning on the roof and says, “Hey, where’d you get those sick ballet moves? Did Black Bat teach you that?” Damian immediately stops and says, “Uh yeah.” Thankfully, Dick doesn’t ask Cass to confirm.

At 17, Jason catches him sneaking out at 10 pm and unknowingly opens an entire can of worms.

Damian, too tired to make a good excuse: “I’m seeing Jon.” Jason: “Like a date?” Damian, dying inside: “…Don’t tell Baba.”

At 18, he’s able to reliably land the quad axel and do it with style. It’s almost more gratifying than punching criminals in the face. (Almost.) That’s when Jon and Billy finally bring up the idea of telling others about it.

Damian is still hesitant, but he thinks about it.

I mean, he’s made a lot of progress in six years, hasn’t he? The only other thing he’s spent so long practicing was his assassin training, then his vigilantism, and his art. But this one is special because it’s just his. (And Jon and Billy. Kinda.) And getting to show off to them is fun, especially when he perfects another element, and they got batshit crazy together over it. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Having a few more people to mess around with in the rink?

He just doesn’t know if it’ll be impressive enough. After all, his entire family is great at stuff. Bruce is the world’s greatest detective—how he hasn’t learned about this yet, Damian doesn’t know. Dick is a beyond incredible acrobat. Jason has one of the highest proficiencies in marksmanship ever. Tim is the best bo staff user on this side of the Atlantic...

...And Damian can do jumps and tricks on the ice. Wow, cool. Good job, Damian.

But then he’s twelve again. And he’s sitting in front of the TV watching Yuzuru Hanyu and Yuna Kim do triple axels, and Dick is inviting him to try it out together. And Cass and Dick are taking him to the rink because they thought it’d be fun. And Lisa is rambling about how she misses skating competitively. And Bruce is telling him he’s proud of the progress Damian’s made both inside and outside of patrol. And Tim is telling him he looks happier than usual.

He is happier.

Yeah. Maybe, they deserve to know.

He agrees to sign up for a free skate competition. But not one in Gotham. And only a small one. He wants to test out the waters first. They find one that’s a month away, and Damian signs up.

When the day comes, Damian is shaking in his skates. He did not account for a “small competition” still having over two hundred people watching. What the fuck was he thinking?

What Jon and Billy don’t tell him is that they snuck Dick into the crowd to watch. Dick has no idea what he’s doing there until he sees Damian skate out to the middle in a red and grey top with black pants and matching skates.

He performs to Beggin’ by Måneskin and starts the performance out with his quad axel.

Everyone loses their shit.

He looks so genuinely excited when he’s skating. He completely ignores the hundreds of people watching, doesn’t count points. He just jams out to the song until he’s breathless, spinning and gliding and jumping and turning to the beat, mostly showing off to Jon and Billy like he always does.

When it’s over, he just hears this massive crowd of people screaming, and then overtop of it, Dick shouts, “THAT’S MY BABY BROTHER!!” and Damian almost falls flat on his face.

Dick uses the Emergency Group Chat to send a video of Damian skating then screams into the phone to Bruce, who immediately drives out to the rink with the rest of the family, and his siblings make Damian do it over once the place is cleared out because they can’t believe they missed it.

Dick: When did you learn to figure skate?! Damian: After we watched the Olympics together. Dick: You’ve been hiding this for SIX YEARS?!?! Damian: …It looked fun.

Of course, Damian is still the son of Bruce Wayne so tabloids eat it up.

“Damian Wayne: Figure Skating Prodigy” “Wayne Prodigy Wins Gold at Regional Figure Skating Competition, Baffling Judges” “Is Damian Wayne fit to represent the US during the next Winter Olympics??”

A swarm of coaches ask Damian if he would like to skate competitively but he declines. He just likes doing it for fun.

Thankfully, the performance was recorded by the competition holders (after a suspicious request from the CEO of Wayne Enterprises last week. Wow, wonder why)

Leave it to Damian to spend his rebellious phase becoming an Olympic-level athlete.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

This Love Left a Permanent Mark

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria (Whisperers Arc)

Warnings: Pregnancy discussion/issues, suggestive/sexual themes

Summary: Things are starting to feel domestic and you are enjoying every second of it with Daryl. It feels so easy until it isn’t.

A/N: Part three of this little thing I have going and can’t seem to stop. Part one is Help Me Hold Onto You and part two is I’ve Been the Archer, I’ve Been the Prey. There will be one or two more parts. Definitely one at least.

*Click here to be added to taglists.

It was moments like this you could almost forget that the world had essentially ended. The sun on your face. The wind, albeit frigid, in your hair. The crunch of snow beneath your boots. The view from the ridge was breathtaking and you couldn’t help but tilt your face toward the sky and close your eyes, just drinking it all in. Instances of peace had often been taken for granted before the turn. Now, they were everything. 

No sign of the whisperers for a while now. Your people were safe for the time being. The Kingdom had relocated, split between the other three communities. It meant more mouths to feed, more illness to treat, more shelter to build, but it meant more people. The communities would thrive with a little effort and a little time. 

As for you? You had everything. Your baby was growing strong in your belly. Your friends were safe. And your archer? You’d love to say he was hunting for food for Alexandria. But that would be a lie since you knew if you turned around, he’d be sitting somewhere nearby, watching you. He never let you out of his sight when you were outside of the walls. Normally, you’d be annoyed. But Daryl had missed so much time with you, so much of the pregnancy. What he was doing, you found endearing. 

Daryl was doing all he could for your people and you. He split his time between making sure you were doing as Siddiq recommended, spending a lot of time inside the walls. He helped with construction, mostly, but did just about anything that was asked of him so he could remain close to you. 

When Michonne or Carol could be with you, he would go hunting or on runs. But now that you were in the final weeks of pregnancy, he was a constant shadow. He had asked you to stay home today but he knew better. You had already ‘nested’ and finished the baby’s room— meaning he finished it while you sat in the rocking chair and gave instructions. Now you needed air. You’d be within the walls for a while after the baby came, so you took any opportunity to roam while you still could. 

“You’re not sneaky.” You smiled, keeping your eyes straight ahead as you waded through the snow to the treeline. You saw him step out from the corner of your eye. 

“Wasn’ tryin’ ta be.” He fell in step with you easily, considering you waddled more than walked these days. “Ya feelin’ okay?”

“I wouldn’t be out here if I didn’t, Daryl.” You weaved your arm through his. “I didn’t go far, like I promised.”

“N’ I kep’ a eye on ya, like I promised.” He countered, earning your elbow to his ribs. “Ya gotta stop in ta see Siddiq on the way home.”

“I know. Are you coming with me?” You already knew the answer but hearing him say it always made your heart flutter. 

“Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

That night found you and Daryl sitting in front of the fire, Dog sprawled out under your propped up feet. The archer cleaned his bolts, glancing over at you every few moments. He failed to hide the curl of his lip. There was a jar of peanut butter on one side of your rounded belly, a jar of pickles on the other, and a small bottle of hot sauce sitting between your breasts. You were happily crunching away at your favorite snack when you caught his eye. 

“You really should try it before you knock it, sir.” You swirled a pickle in the peanut butter and shook a little hot sauce over it before holding it out to him. Daryl reared back as if it was threatening to bite him. 

“Nah. S’okay. Had a big supper.”

You tilted your head and chuckled. “I made your dinner, Daryl. I know what you ate and it wasn’t that much.” You waved the snack back and forth. “Come on, just one bite. Your baby loves it! They’re kicking up a storm.”

That had his attention. 

“Righ’ now?” He asked, his eyes lighting up while the rest of his expression remained stoic. 

“Yep. And if you take one bite, I’ll give you unrestricted belly access.” He had that anyway, and he knew it. But after the rocky patch the two of you had gone through, the man would walk barefoot over a bed of hot coals to see you smile. 

“Fine.” He drawled, placing his bolts on the table. He rounded it and came to sit by your hip, moving the peanut butter out of the way. When you brought the pickle close to his mouth, he moved his head back, earning a raised brow from you. “M’gonna do it. Just… preparing muhself.” It took another 3 minutes before he finally opened his mouth.

You quickly shoved the pickle spear in, nearly gagging him. “Now you know how that feels.”  He took hold of the end and bit it half, handing the other half back to you with a sarcastic sneer. You thought he’d make a comeback of some sort but then he started chewing and you watched his face morph into something desperate. Was he turning green? “Okay, okay! Spit it out!” You laughed and tried to get up to aid him, but your stomach wouldn’t allow for it. Daryl was already dashing toward the downstairs bathroom anyway. 

You could hear him spit and then the tap started, he gargled, and the cycle went on three more times. All the while, you smothered your laughter behind your palm. “I’m sorry, Daryl!” He emerged with his tongue still out, looking as if he may scrape it with his nails. 

“How can ya stand tha’?” 

“It’s so yummy!” You placed the lids on everything and he took them to the kitchen. When he came back, he stopped short and leaned against the doorframe, watching you try and fail to get up from your spot on the couch. “Okay, little bean, I think it’s almost time to serve up an eviction notice!”

“Lil’ bean, huh?” He smirked when you gave him a pleading look and did a grabby hand motion. 

“Help, I’m a whale and I can’t get up.”

“Y’ain’t no whale.” Daryl took your hands and helped you stand, looking over you with the fondest smile while you continued to list off the things pregnancy had done to your body. “Tha’s enough’a that.” With a large hand now splayed across your belly, he bent to press his lips to your neck, smiling when goosebumps rose under his attention. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Daryl.”

“Don’ worry, sunshine. M’gonna make sure ya finish.”

You still couldn’t believe Daryl had asked Siddiq if sex was safe at this point in the pregnancy. When the medic had told him that it was actually encouraged, well… you didn’t get much sleep last night. 

You woke up sore, a dull throb between your legs and a periodic ache in your lower back. Daryl would only give you that sly grin when you’d pout at him. That is, until you asked to go hunting with him. 

“Nah.” He shook his head and looked back down to the bag he was packing. 

“Come on! It’s only a few miles out. We won’t go further than that.”

“No. Yer gon’ stay here and Carol’s gon’ come check on ya.” The archer accepted some bread and cheese in a container, noticing there was enough for both of you but not commenting on it. “I’ll take a radio. Anything happens, I can be back in less than a hour.”

“We can both take radios and make sure Carol has one. If anything happens, which it won’t, we won’t be far enough out for a problem.” You handed him two canteens of water. 

“No.” When he grabbed the straps to shoulder the pack, you placed your smaller hands over his. Daryl sighed and met your gaze. 

“Please, Daryl. My hormones are going nuts and I feel like I’m going to lose my mind if you are away from me right now.” An image of Daryl leaned flush against your back, thrusting into you from behind in slow, languid movement flashed behind your eyes and you almost moaned. You weren’t lying. You needed to be near him today. With an exaggerated sigh, you dropped your hands to your belly. “If you let me go with you today, I promise I won’t leave these walls again until the baby is at least 6 weeks old and I’m all healed up and given the okay from Siddiq.” 

Daryl froze, his eyes narrowed. “Ya promise that?”

“Yes.” 

It was obvious that he was really thinking about it, those pretty blue eyes flicking from your face to your stomach and back. 

“Fine.” The bowman rolled his eyes at your adorable little victory dance but smiled just the same. “But ya pack ev’rything ya might need in my bag. Ya don’ carry nothin’ but yer weapons n’ a radio. Ya stay righ’ with me, no wanderin’ off.” You were nodding enthusiastically, waiting for him to finish so you could get ready. With another roll of his eyes, he waved you off. “G’on.” 

And you were off in a rushed waddle so adorable that he couldn’t help but chuckle. 

You took a deep breath of the fresh air, spreading your arms as you walked just behind Daryl. He kept his pace slow so that you could keep up. You intended to do everything he had asked of you. Neither of you needed any more stress with the impending birth just around the corner. You just wanted to enjoy this day with him and then you would keep your promise and stay home. 

Dog stayed right at your side, whining quietly and sticking his nose into your palm. “You want pets?” You obliged with a skritch behind his ear. “You should be helping daddy hunt, lazy bones.”

“Ain’t his daddy.” Daryl huffed, stopping to look over the ground for tracks. 

“Are so. And I’m his mama.” You stated matter-of-factly, shooing the canine toward Daryl. He seemed reluctant but followed the command. With a moment to rest, you pressed your hands into the small of your back and shuffled over to a log to sit down heavily. “You did a number on my back last night, Mr. Dixon.” The smug expression he wore did not go unseen. “Maybe you can do it again. Soon.”

When he looked at you questioningly, he found you eyeing him with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “Ya mean now?”

You nodded. “I mean right now.”

“Ain’t fuckin’ ya in the snow. Yer pregnant.”

“Never said in the snow.” You jerked your chin toward the right, over his shoulder, where a little cabin sat seemingly abandoned. “We’ve been on this trail a million times. No one lives there.”

Daryl drummed his fingers on his thigh for a moment while scrutinizing the small structure. Once he stood and started walking toward you, you pouted. The look on his face said you weren’t getting what you wanted. The archer kneeled in front of you, cupping your face with a gloved hand. His bare thumb rubbed across your jutted-out bottom lip. 

“When I getcha home, I’ll fuck ya til ya can’ walk but s’not safe to do it like this.” His hand lowered to rub the side of your belly. “Not like this.” 

His soft voice. The way he was looking at you. The way he loved and protected your baby before they were even born. You nodded, smiling at him with tears in your eyes. The desire that had been building was gone and now you just wanted him to hold you. “At least kiss me?” 

“Never hafta ask fer that.” He stood but remained bent at the waist so you didn't have to adjust at all. He wouldn’t risk you being uncomfortable. You sighed against his mouth, parting your lips for his tongue to dip in and taste you. Too soon, he pulled away, pressing one more kiss to your mouth and then your forehead. When he straightened, he offered you a hand, knowing you’d never get off that log by yourself. 

With a chuckle, you accepted. Back on your feet, the two of you continued on the trail. 

An hour passed. You were at the end of the area he’d chosen to hunt in today, not wanting to go more than a few miles away from Alexandria. You had chatted and laughed and he’d look around an area while you stopped for a rest. It was a great day. Except for the periodic, nagging back pain that continued to worsen. Now when it happened, it felt like the muscles in your abdomen were seizing up. 

“We can circle ‘round. See wha’ we find over there before headin’ back.” Daryl wasn’t looking at you while he spoke but he did when you didn’t answer, finding you leaned against a tree with your head tilted and a perplexed expression on your face. “Y’alrigh’?”

“Huh?” You quickly looked up, finding him and Dog watching you. “Oh! Yeah. I’m good. Just needed a minute.” You straightened slowly and when nothing happened, you smiled. “Ready!”

You kept up pretty well considering the worsening pain. When it began to force you to stop and breathe, you knew it was time to say something. But before you could even open your mouth, you felt a pressure you didn’t know was there just release and your pants were suddenly drenched. Oh shit. 

“Um…Daryl.”

“Yeah?” He didn’t look up from the tracks he was studying, but did shoot a sidelong glance at Dog when the canine began to whine in earnest. “The hell’s wrong with you?” Dog laid down but continued to whine. 

“Daryl, don’t panic.”

He instantly felt panic, a vibrating anxiety in his chest before he even turned around. You were standing with your hands on each side of your belly, your light maternity jeans soaked. Now, logic told him that there were two things that could have happened. Before he could say anything, you doubled forward with a pained expression, breathing hard through your nose. “Fuck.”

“I think…we need the radio now.”

After radioing ahead, Daryl hoisted you up and carried you through the woods toward home. What Siddiq was certain were contractions were now steadily becoming more painful in your abdomen while the pain in your back dulled. 

“Daryl.” You whined, unable to do anything else. 

“I know. S’gon be okay. I gotcha.” 

You breathed through each episode like Carol had taught you. It didn’t alleviate the pain but it did help you focus. And when something changed, you knew it. 

“Daryl.”

“Yeah?”

“Where’s that cabin?”

“‘Bout a quarter mile ahead. Why?”

“Go there.”

His steps slowed enough to be able to look at you while you breathed through another contraction. He was terrified to ask but he knew he had to…

“Why?”

You took one more deep breath and looked at him with more fear in your eyes than he’d ever seen before. 

“This baby is coming now.”

[pincushionx]

Hunter head canon #3

Hunter his whole life has done something guard related. From training to be a scout which are essentially foot guards to the highest ranking guard, the golden guard. He wasn’t just trained to guard he was raised guarding. It’s something he does thats probably second nature for him.

With that being said I truly believe he will continue being a guard to everyone he cares about even if it’s no longer his job and even if he barley knows that person. (gus and luz for example in labyrinth runners and hunting palismen ) It’s ingrained in him the same way sheep dogs will heard humans because it’s what they know.

So I imagine hunter instinctively standing up in front of the hexsquad unconsciously guarding. Even if they are simply hanging out. They ask him about it and he admits he does it without even noticing.

Of course a lot of these behaviors stem from PTSD like him being hyper vigilante and being prepared to defend from any possible attack but even in moments he knows he safe he’s always watching making sure they don’t get hurt by something little like falling and making sure their all secure. He’s not even violent just defensive.

He keeps them organized even if can’t keep himself organized, he becomes aware of their mannerism in a objective way, he guides them. They basically become his herd in way.

Even if Luz could be seen being the ‘leader’, Hunter is always next to her ever so slightly in front, like a guard.

Luz is also protective but that’s a habit she developed while again for Hunter it’s ingrained.

It’s quite cute actually if you ignore his past, him being a protective friend willing to defend the people he cares about no matter what.

In short Hunter got that Doberman/collie instinct in him lol

Any who, love me a protective Hunter

[lookingforhappy]

Hi! I just wanted to say I really like your blog and the ideas you have for TUA. I have a question if you don't mind? If you've read the comics (I just got to read You Look Like Death and....my head hurt alot after) is there anything you wished they had kept from the comics for the show or vice versa? Personally I wish they had kept Luther and Five being twins in the show. I get why they chose not to do so but come on.

Five doesn't get his dog and then he also doesn't get his biological brother? I love the Pub scene from season 2 and it would have fit really well for them to learn it (just my opinion)

Thank you and I hope you have a lovely day! :)

Thank you, I'm glad you enjoy my ideas!! I love asks lmao so no problem at all!

I have read the mainline comics and a few spin offs (the Diego & Vanya band AU one comes to mind??) but I'm a show main sadly. I like the comics as an informant to the show, so generally I prefer how the show depicted things.

I do want to briefly (edit: it was not brief... i am so sorry) talk about the Five DNA thing because that's one of the things I love in the show.

in the comics Five is genetically altered by the commission

this only works in the comics for me because every character is an asshole, Five especially (he literally prefaces this moment by bragging that he's fucked a lot of women). So for Five to have this excuse? to show horror at the very idea? that's a redeeming quality.

but in the show, they make every character likeable to an extent (recall that in the comics Allison rumours Luther into loving her), so this wouldn't have the same impact because it just makes Five less of his own person - removes the agency from his actions.

Five in the show is someone forced into a corner, and his actions in accepting and carrying out his job as an assassin, as well as his willingness to kill innocents and his own brother throughout s1 show how his experiences have made him desperate and ruthless in his pursuit of love and happiness.

it's a psychological exploration/study.

which to me, is infinitely more interesting. Five doesn't kill the board because his DNA dictates he will, he kills them because he chooses to. He is not cruel because his DNA dictates it, he is cruel because his experiences have made him that way.

and I think overall, this approach is adapted very nicely to fit the tone of the show, as all the same beats are hit. Five has been made into the Commission's killing machine against his will, and he is resentful of it,

but that doesn't mean he can undo the damage done, his psyche is forever attuned to this line of thinking no matter how much he hates it he doesn't know how to break the cycle of violence inflicted on him,

but because Five hasn't been genetically altered, he is fully responsible for his actions and he has to live with that.

the DNA altering in the show would feel like a cop out to me. and also the interesting aspect from the DNA altering is that he is essentially made into a psychopath (most famous serial killers are - Charles Manson, Ted Bundy, Jeffery Dahmer, etc.), which means removing his empathy.

because despite his dislike of the non-consenual genetic surgery, comics!five doesn't have empathy.

and show!Five is interesting because he has so much empathy, yet he remains a killer. he is never given the opportunity to use that for good.

without that empathy we wouldn't get scenes like this where he admits guilt,

and in all honesty, isn't it more interesting that the best and most prolific killer in the show possesses a large amount of empathy?

idk sorry I got sidetracked - I've seen a lot of people who say they prefer the DNA plot of the comics and I just feel like it's very contradictory to what a lot of people love about Five.

anyway, the only element of the DNA plotline that i'd want to see adapted further is the non-consenual surgery itself

largely because I love Five!whump and despite comics!Five claiming it was painless it's fairly obvious to see that it wasn't (and I love when this is expanded on in fics so much - no time, no time, dear brother o' mine is an amazing read because it deals with this)

but I also think it would do a good job at reinstating the commission as the villians they are rather than the weird, nebulous thing it currently sits as (Five would never entrust Herb or Dot to the Commission it's so ooc and it's canon??? Dot and Herb were both 100% in support of the commission's ethos, even if Herb was a bit shit at his job. Dot literally was in charge of the apocalypse and saw Five arrive & at no point thought that this was fucked actually).

plus, we already know they waited until Five was hopeless, alcoholic potentially passively suicidal, weak both physically and mentally, desperate. all likely to better control him.

what's to say they didn't also pick up him just in time to prevent his death? 45 years in a polluted wasteland can't be good on the body - and I don't about the general population, but most of the people I know in their 50s aren't fully grey. the stress was probably killing him all on its own.

they could have seen his death and gone back a few years/months/days to recruit him. but then that would mean they still have to fix whatever illness was killing him, and how do you do that? surgery.

perhaps that's how they recuit all of their agents. maybe that's how they get away with it not disturbing the timeline, take someone who was going to die anyway, and then force them into a debt of gratitude for saving their lives. idk.

I also think AJ was criminally underused. He's supposed to be the big bad of the commission, his character was originally adapted into the Handler but then they decided they wanted his design in the show or something.

I think his role in the comics is much more interesting, as a person who selected Five from a line up of assassins already in the commission and gave Five personal training, and assigned him to the JFK case,

I think he could have been adapted a lot better than he was, and like the surgery, he could have steered the commission back towards the villains they were always supposed to be - instead of The Handler (as amazing as Kate Walsh is to watch on screen I love her) we could have had AJ manipulating Five throughout s2.

as for Five & Luther, I don't mind them not being twins, because honestly their genetics are so different (Aidan is 20 something and he's probably going to stay at 5'5" while Tom is like 6'5", plus hair colour, skin tone, bone structure etc.) and we already know that they weren't planning on making them twins from the pilot script (Five is born a singleton to a polish teenager I believe).

I do think it would have been fun to repurpose this plotpoint for another pair. of the Umbrella's I actually think Five and Viktor pair quite well as they both have similar heights, hair colour, they both have that square jaw too. but I also think that this could have been an interesting way to give depth to the sparrows - Jayme and Alphonso could have been the twins.

Pennycrumb was... a let down? I don't think he should have been a big part of Five's character, but I also don't think he should have had 0 affect on it either.

otherwise??? honestly Hotel Oblivion was wayyy more interesting in the comics than in the show. I would have preferred something more in line with the comics but I think they were afraid of the classic horror elements and the classic superhero elements.

like the faceless bus boy guards

the hotel rooms, seemingly ordinary, being prison cells

the prisoners having enough freedom to move around the hotel and have relationships with each other but not enough to feel safe hanging around the hotel

i just.. i wish more of this had been incorporated into the show.

also.. art deco buildings.. my beloveds

this could have been the hotel Oblivion..

like ik they planned to go to japan to film s3 and that got fucked over by covid but like.. art deco is such a good aesthetic for a horror setting compared to the japanese style hotel we got (i've heard it called hotel orientalism as well so, theres that too).

if I had been in charge I would have had s3 focus on the mothers, develop their stories & why the umbrellas were given up for adoption & then linked this all to the 43 being the 16 instead. have the reveal be not that theyre dead but missing, non existant. because the children were taken by hargreeves to power Oblivion. if we somehow keep the kugelblitz then we use that as a distraction as to where and why all the sparrows keep going missing, and eventually the umbrella's numbers start to dwindle. until Oblivion is discovered and we find that every hotel room corresponds to a member of the 43 - maybe even have the brellies/sparrows numbers correspond to their door numbers somehow, or floor level.

idk I'm not a good writer but thats a bit of how i feel about the comics being adapted into the show..

sorry idk if i even answered your question? thank you again for the lovely ask!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I refused to let someone perform because of their service dog?

This is one of those 'sounds extremely shitty until I explain it more' scenarios, I'm aware of that.

Basically, I'm a performer and so are a lot of my friends. This particular scene is relatively small, a lot of people know each other so while I wouldn't call us friends, this person and I have performed in the same shows and have a lot of mutual friends.

This person, I'll call them K (20s) has a service dog they bring with them basically everywhere. Which is normally fine, I have friends with service dogs. The only thing is that this service dog has been a huge issue almost every time it's been around. It wanders off, sleeps in doorways, K can't really get it to come or sit in place. This type of performance takes a lot of prep with makeup and stuff, and last time I performed at the same venue they demanded we essentially clear out the green room (fold up all the tables and chairs where people could get ready) in order to make room for their dog, who then didn't even spend time in there and instead slept in the doorway next to the stage where people kept tripping on him. When asked to move the dog, they said he 'cant make him do that' and 'that's just where he's going to have to be.' We also often perform in loud clubs or bars, and the dog is extremely reactive, barking a lot whenever there's noise and generally acting really agitated in these sorts of environments.

K is also just kind of annoying as a person, and I don't think they're a very good performer. But that's less relevant.

A different mutual friend, I'll call them S, said they wanted to put on a show for me for my birthday and have some of our performer friends perform. Would I be an asshole if I told S I don't want K to perform at this show?

What are these acronyms?

[cozage]

The Daughter's Return Part 3

Chapter 26: Thereafter

Start From Beginning | Table of Contents | Read on AO3

Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace Word Count: 1k AN: This is more of an epilogue of sorts. There's not a lot of dialogue, but it does kind of wrap everything up. I really have enjoyed writing this, and I hope you have enjoyed it as well :) thanks for a fun time and a great ride. I could say 5,000 more things about this fic and how much I love you for supporting it, but let's finish this up :)

It had taken Ace a few days to make the house liveable, but plenty of people had opened their homes for you to stay in while you all finished the essential repairs. They never made you feel like a burden, and even though you tried to keep to yourselves, they were eager to get to know you.

You had expected to pay for all the tools you needed, but the townsfolk on this island were kind and generous. Several families had lent Ace tools, and some had even come by to offer their help. Even though you were on a hill outside of town, people dropped in throughout the day, bringing baked goods or hand-sewn linens as welcoming gifts. 

So much for privacy. You had more of it in your shared bunkhouse on the Moby Dick. 

But you didn’t find yourself irritated by the townspeople’s check-ins. While most of them asked basic questions about your past and eyed Ace’s scarred back, they never pried. And even better, they always seemed to know when it was time to leave. 

After a few weeks, you had fallen into a strange pattern of familiarity. Even as your belly grew bigger, you tried your best to help Ace as much as you could every day. In the morning, you would get up and make him coffee. He would always scold you, claiming that you were the one who was supposed to be pampered right now, but he continued to allow you to do it for now. 

You all would eat a quick breakfast, and then begin to work on house improvements. The morning was the best time to work, since it was still cool out. The two of you patched up holes in the walls and began to decorate the inside of your little two-bedroom cabin. The projects never seemed to end.

And every morning while you worked, Mr. Cheddle would deliver a newspaper, and you would invite him in for breakfast. If he declined, you would send him some kind of snack to thank him for bringing the paper up the hill. You knew he didn’t mind, but you still felt obligated to send him away with something. 

You’d leave Ace to go make lunch, and usually find some variety of baked goods on the counter from someone welcoming you to the town. You often found yourself wondering if people would ever stop sending you things, or if you would become someone who baked for your neighbors just for the hell of it. 

At lunch, you would read the paper and update Ace on anything interesting. Afterwards, the two of you would typically walk to town together to find something to do. Some days you would shop, others you would go your separate ways. Whether it was tea with Arabelle, or a walk in the park with Crilly and her three dogs, or even sitting at Sellie-Tien’s shop and catching up on gossip, you always found something to do. 

And as the sun set, you and Ace would walk back up the hill, talking of your time spent apart, and even stopping to chat with others along the road. 

What a strange life you were living. How mundane it all was. And yet…perfect. 

On one particular day it had been too hot for you to work, even in the morning. And with nothing to do, you decided to read the News Coo early. You kept your eyes peeled for any words of Luffy, but there had been no news of him since his stunt at Marineford. 

However, today there was far more interesting news on the front page. One you had been waiting for. 

One about Portgas D. Ace.

“You’re dead!” You cheered, holding up the News Coo to show Ace. 

Ace dropped his tools and ran over to you, reading it over quickly. 

“They made a grave for me and everything,” he said. “Impressive.” 

“It helps that they took your hat,” you mentioned. He pouted at the thought. 

“I’m gonna miss that hat.” He handed the paper back to you. “What about you?”

“Still nothing.” You read through the article once again just to make sure you hadn’t skipped anything. “I doubt they’ll officially say I’m dead.”

“Really?” Ace asked. “Why’s that?”

“Because they reported it wrong once,” you admitted, setting the paper down. “They can’t do that again. Can you imagine the embarrassment?”

“But they won’t bother us here.” Ace looked out over the ocean. “They don’t have jurisdiction.”

“That’s why Marco chose it for us,” you said. “It’s quiet. Out of the way. Nobody will bother us. It’s perfect.”

“Seems like a more than fair trade off,” Ace said, and you nodded in agreement. 

“We finally get to have our happily ever after.”

Ace smiled at you, kissing your cheek. “And I can’t wait to spend it with you. Our perfect little family.”

---

Sengoku stared long and hard at a small piece of paper with little hearts doodled all over. Against everything that he knew and had been told, the card sat between his fingers in perfect condition. 

Garp walked into the room, full of drive and purpose. “Listen Sengoku, I need to tell you something. I-“

“I know,” he said. “You’re going to retire. But before you turn in that resignation letter, I want to give you something.”

Sengoku handed off the piece of paper covered with hearts. “Do with this what you will. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve never seen it.”

Garp examined it, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the name written across it in perfect cursive. Ace. 

“Where did you get this?”

“We took it off Portgas D. Ace when he arrived at Impel Down.  We thought it belonged to him, but that must not be the case, since he’s dead now.”

Garp held the card in his hand carefully. The paper slowly inched away from him. “So who’s it belong to then?”

“Probably nobody,” Sengoku shrugged. “I’m about to retire myself, and that little scrap of paper seems like a lot of paperwork and a lot of personal investigation. I just don’t have it in me. Especially for some pirate who we all saw die. Take it off my hands for me. Do something with it, just don’t tell me what. As a favor.”

“Yes sir,” Garp said, tears in his eyes. “Thank you.”

��No Garp,” Sengoku said. “Thank you.”

--

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[freesia-writes]

Pets4Vets: Jesse (2/4)

Chapter 2 of 4 - Word Count: 3.2k - Jesse x Fem Reader Master List - previous chapter here

Jesse’s leg jiggled incessantly in his flimsy plastic chair in the reception area. He fidgeted with his fingers for a bit, then sat back, crossing them across his chest and lifting his chin. You swung open the door, datapad in hand, and scanned the empty room, stifling a grin at the fact that he nearly took up the entire corner. He was indeed “a big boy”, and his thin t-shirt made no attempt to conceal that fact. The giant Republic cog tattooed across his face and head was quite the statement, too. Resuming your businesslike manner, you invited him to follow you.

His eyes roved around your office as the door closed behind the two of you, the large window that made up the upper half allowing you to see people passing by outside. You felt a flicker of self-consciousness that surprised you as the faintest of smiles ghosted across his face at the sight of the many knick-knacks, memorabilia, and images that filled your walls. Past and present animals, with and without their owners, were peppered between what seemed like everything you had ever loved. But why should you care what some random trooper thought? You cleared your throat. 

“So… You’re looking for a large dog ‘or something equally badass’?” you asked, reading off your datapad. 

“Yeah,” he said, simultaneously proud yet a little unsure at his answer now that he heard it read back to him. “I just thought it’d be… nice. I’ve heard good stuff. Brothers seem to like their pets.”

“Many of them do, yes,” you agreed. 

“At least the ones that can’t land a girl,” he scoffed, laughing and nodding at you as though you’d wholeheartedly agree. You didn’t, and stared at him for a moment before deciding to let that one go. 

“The process might sound extensive, but the animals actually have a lot of nuance and personality, so we like to get to know our clients as well as possible so that we can find the best fit.”

“Ugh. You and the matchmaking people,” he blurted, pressing his lips together immediately. You realized he hadn’t meant to let that slip. Now you were torn about calling him out on it or not. Maybe feel him out a bit more first. 

“Yes, it is essentially matchmaking,” you grinned. “Many of these animals will be with you for a good portion of your life, so they do become a beloved partner in a way. Just don’t have sex with them.”

He guffawed so loudly he clapped his hand over his mouth, eyes large at the unrefined sound he’d just made. You couldn’t resist a chuckle at that one yourself. You did have a bawdy sense of humor at times, but it wasn’t always received well, so his laughter was a bit gratifying. 

“Just need to be clear on everything from the start,” you continued. He was trying and failing to arrange his features into the confident mask he’d worn through the door. You were surprised to find it endearing. But no time for that. “So… tell me about yourself. Your lifestyle. Your personality. Your priorities.”

“Kriff, that’s a lot. I mean… I was a soldier, obviously. Did a lot of wild and awesome things,” he grinned. Ah, back in his element. “Basically saved the galaxy. You know. You can show your gratitude in a variety of ways if you feel so inclined.” He ran a head over his bald head, leaning back to manspread a bit more on the other side of your desk. 

You didn’t know what to say, but apparently your face said it all.

“Anyway…” He coughed, then continued. “Now I’m apparently just a regular old person with a job and an apartment and a whole exciting life ahead of me…” A flicker of something crossed his face; you weren’t sure what it was, but you were suddenly quite intrigued. He moved on quickly, however. “So nowadays I work as a personal trainer at Dwight Schrute’s Gym for Muscles. Mostly afternoon and evening shifts. Cause I like to sleep in… After long nights, you know? Ahah.”

“I bet,” you murmured, swiping on the datapad screen. 

“I can tell you’re impressed,” he chuckled. You stared at him for a moment, unable to tell if he were being serious or not. “It’s okay, it happens to everyone.” Gods above, he was being serious. 

“I am… quite stunned,” you said, meaning every word. 

“Well don’t worry, I’ll pick you up if you faint.” 

“Mm. Thanks.”

“Nothing any hero wouldn’t do.”

“Naturally.”

“What about you? What’s your story?”

You looked up, taken off guard. Why would anyone be asking about your side of things? You were suspicious. “Nothing too exciting. I work here. Annnnd that’s about it. So you’d say you’re pretty active… Are you able to get outdoors a lot? If a pet needed a decent amount of exercise? Considering your sleep schedule, a crepuscular animal might be a good fit.”

“No crabs, lady,” he said, shaking his head and putting both hands in the air. “I’ve avoided those all my life and I’m not about to start now.” 

“Crabs?” you echoed, confused for a moment before it dawned on you. “Oh… Not crustaceous,” you clarified, biting back a giggle. “Crepuscular means animals that are most active in the twilight hours, so dawn or dusk. I suppose you’re not up early, but you mentioned a roommate? If they were able to give it a little attention in the early hours, you’d be on evening duty.”

“Alright,” he nodded, toning it down a bit. “I thought Massiffs were daytime animals though.” 

“They are. I don’t think that would be the best fit for you, though.”

He looked affronted, “You think you know me already?” A flash of a grin, both cocky and insecure.

“No,” you smiled. “But I know our animals, and I’ve gotten pretty good at reading vibes.” 

“Vibes?” he echoed, making no attempt to hide the condescension in his voice. 

“Energy, personality, whatever you want to call it. I’m good at pairing.”

“Ah, so you must have an amazing boyfriend then, eh?” he jabbed, unaware of the territory he was wandering into. The sharp look on your face gave him some clue, though, so he tried to correct. “Er, girlfriend? A theydey or gentlethem?” Then he gasped, forcing a conspiratorial look onto his face. “Is it even human?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the absolute ridiculousness. Where did he get the audacity? He was probably expecting you to be overwhelmed or impressed or have some kind of diminutive response. But that wasn’t quite what you were feeling at the moment. 

“Actually,” you said, imitating his tone, “it’s a rancor.”

Now it was his turn to laugh, only this time it was authentic delight and surprise instead of the cocky little “ahah”s you’d been getting so far. You were grinning without meaning to, momentarily pleased by the awe on his face. “Alright, alright,” he chuckled, wagging a finger at you. “So you like it freaky.”

“I actually haven’t been on a decent date in over a year now,” you deadpanned, relishing the shock that replaced his swagger. He legitimately didn’t know what to do with that, and that felt wildly satisfying. “Anyway, that’s all I really need for today. The receptionist will book your next appointment on your way out.”

He was too speechless to craft any sort of cocky response as he shuffled out of the room. 

* * * 

“This place is LOUD!” you yelled to your friend over the music. You’d finally caved at her incessant requests to go to 79s, and after hours of fretting over what to wear and how to do your hair, since you were mostly used to work attire and a ponytail, you were there. You’d opted for a simple black dress but had left your hair down since you wouldn’t be surrounded by animals for a change, although your friend had laughed and said that’s exactly what you’d be surrounded by. 

“You’ll get used to it!” she yelled back, waving enthusiastically at a table of troopers that she apparently seemed to be familiar with. A few of them howled back, beckoning her over, but she pointed at the bar first, and a few of them pushed past one another to meet her there. It was odd to see them all gathered in one place without their armor. Since the Clone Rights and Personhood Act had passed, they had no need for anything other than civilian clothing anymore, but it was still unique to see so many people with the same face. Granted, they all had their own unique style and approach to individuality, but you just weren’t used to all of it quite yet. 

Your friend dragged you to the bar counter along with the troopers, each one wearing a different t-shirt over some plain jeans, and the flirting began immediately. You stood behind the group, squinting to try to make out what was on the menu. The choices were fairly slim… a couple of cocktails or some very watered-down beer, or so you’d heard. Maybe you’d just stick with water tonight. 

Or so you thought.

Two hours later, you were completely drunk, having given in to multiple offers of drinks and dances, and your face was flushed red from the thrill of it all. It was quite unlike you, but you didn’t care. The troopers were adorable and endearing, and you were having an absolute blast learning so many names, dancing like a crazy person, and enjoying the shenanigans of the rowdy bunch. A naval officer currently had his hands on your hips, a gleeful grin on his face as the two of you rocked to the music. You’d been self conscious at first about dancing for all of two minutes, but the clones didn’t seem to care at all. They were just there to have fun, and you’d quickly found yourself caught up in the joy of it all. 

You were tiring quickly though, having danced for almost an hour straight, and you thanked your partner before heading off to the side, leaning against the wall and fanning yourself for a minute. Touching your hands to your cheeks, you giggled at how hot they were. You felt so pleasantly bubbly, just a little dizzy, warm and fuzzy inside, and absolutely delighted with anything and everything. 

“Well well well. Didn’t expect to see you here.” A clone had appeared at your side, immediately recognizable by the giant Republic cog tattoo across his face. 

“Jesse!” you yelled, flinging your arms open and throwing yourself at him for a hug. He stepped back, surprised, and lightly touched your back before you pulled back to regard him fondly. “This place is great!!” 

He chuckled, eyebrows furrowed at the shocking departure from what he’d seen of your personality at the animal shelter. “Yeah, I mean… You alright?” he tilted his head as you giggled, smacking his chest playfully. 

“SO GOOD!” you squawked, hand sliding up to his shoulder, then down his arm. You gave it a squeeze, then dropped your hand. “Damn, lookin good, trooper. What are you doing?”

“Just… hanging out,” he grinned. “You lookin for some fun?” 

“I seem to have found it!” You waggled your eyebrows, stepping closer and toying with his waist. “This place is great!”

“Yeah, you said that,” he laughed. “Want to dance?”

“Hellz to the yeah!” And you started dancing right there, swinging your hair around like your life depended on it.

“Wow… Okay… Let’s get you some water first,” he suggested, now torn between concern and delight.

“Water is for boglings!” you squawked, grabbing his hand and doing your best to drag him to the dance floor. But he was significantly larger than you, and he tugged you right back. You collided with his broad chest and looked up at him indignantly. 

“Water first,” he insisted, tapping the tip of your nose playfully.

“Get out of here,” you laughed, swatting at his hand. “But fine... if it means I get to grind on those juicy thighs!”

“Deal,” he grinned. 

You gulped down the pathetic cup of water he’d been able to wrangle from the bartender, then the two of you hit the dance floor. Whether it was all the pent-up energy you’d choked down from your disappointing dates or just the sheer intoxication of… well… being intoxicated, you were happy to let loose. Jesse was smooth and strong all at once, hands growing heavier on your body as you writhed against him, and you reached an arm up to cup the back of his neck. He lowered his head, brushing his lips against your neck, and hot fireworks exploded throughout your core as you continued to sway together. 

“Want to get out of here?” you yelled, turning around to face him and gliding your hands down his front. Your hair was scattered across your shoulders, cheeks bright red on either side of a dumb grin, and he swallowed. His gaze darkened for a moment, and he pulled you a little closer, cupping your face and meeting your eyes with undeniable desire. But he looked at you for a moment longer, and his shoulders slumped a tiny bit. 

“I’ll walk you home,” he offered.

“No, I meant to bang!” you pressed, laughing in complete disregard.

“I know...” he chuckled, taking your arm and steering you toward the door. "I know."

* * * 

You woke the next morning with a raging headache and a sick stomach. You sank your face into your hands, groaning at your desk as you tried to read the datapad with bleary eyes. Only a few appointments today, thank the Maker. Cleaning the animal kennels had nearly made you throw up, so a quiet day of desk work was about all you could handle before crawling back home to your bed. Your friend who'd taken you to 79s had commed you far too early in the morning, gleefully informing you that you’d been “off the hook”, and while you’d dreaded the answer to your the question you had for her, she’d assured you that you’d messaged her upon arriving at home and that you went to bed alone. 

Whatever else had happened, you couldn’t remember. At least you didn’t have to get tested for "crepusculars", you chuckled to yourself. 

A light knock on your door rang loudly in your ears, and you squinted through your window at the receptionist, who was waving with far too bright a smile for the ungodly hour of 10am. She jerked her head behind her, giving you a not-too-subtle thumbs up as she opened your door and ushered in the cocky clone from a couple days ago. Something about him looked different though… Your wracked your brain but came up with nothing other than an unsettled feeling. Maybe you’d had a dirty dream about him… it wouldn’t be the first time some random client had popped up while you slept. Either way, you felt your cheeks redden slightly as he stepped into your office, the door closing behind him. Only when he sat in the chair on the other side of your desk did you notice that he had two smoothies in his hands, one of which he slid across to you. 

“Good morning,” he grinned, and your stomach dropped as you realized he seemed to know something you didn’t. 

“Morning…” you said suspiciously, taking the smoothie and inspecting it before looking back at him. “What’s this?”

“It’s a lil somethin from the gym I work at… All kinds of healthy crap in it… But it’s supposedly great for hangovers.”

You stared, heart sinking in your chest. What had you done…

“So,” he continued briskly, all business and innocence. “What’s the next step? Meeting some animals today?” 

“Yes…” you said slowly, entirely unsure of how to move on. You were kicking yourself for having been so careless… You were never the type to drink so much that you couldn’t remember. But you’d felt safe and had been so buoyed by the infectious atmosphere… Regardless, there was work to be done, and you turned to your datapad to avoid his eyes. “There are a few different options that I had in mind after reviewing your file…”

“Is that what you call it…” he murmured, causing you to jerk your head up so fast that it throbbed. You winced, rubbing your temples and taking a sip of the smoothie. It was surprisingly refreshing, and you took a few more gulps, staring at him skeptically. 

“Alright,” you snapped, equally indignant and resigned. “Out with it.”

“With what?” His angelic smile made your heart skip a beat, which further added to your confusion. 

“Whatever you’re gloating about.” 

“You just seem so… professional in here…” he said, taking a leisurely sip of his own smoothie before putting it down with a flourish. 

“And…?”

“And a little more laid back when you were grinding on me like your life depended on it last night.”

You were stunned into silence, mouth falling open a little bit as you stared at him, speechless. You couldn’t believe it. He wasn’t even your type. Plus, you doubt he would have let you go home alone if you’d done what he was accusing you of. 

“You’re lying.”

“Mmkay,” he shrugged. Somehow that made you even more incensed. 

“So what else happened?” you challenged, lifting your chin a little bit. 

“Drinks and dancing. You really like to fling your hair around,” he chuckled. “Then I walked you home.”

“And?” you squinted. 

“And that’s it. You said you could make it up to your apartment. Did you?”

“Yes,” you sighed, relieved that your report to your friend had been accurate. But it struck you as odd. Wouldn’t he be the type to take advantage of your momentary lapse in judgment? 

“But if you still want to ‘bang’, as you put it, I’d be happy to oblige.” He folded his arms behind his head, showing off his muscles and arching an eyebrow at you, unfazed by your grimace and audible groan. 

“Did I really say that?” You didn’t even really want to know the answer. 

“Mhm. Didn’t know you wanted me that bad.”

“Kriff,” you muttered under your breath. Why did it have to be him? Of all the troopers in that Maker-forsaken bar… This was beyond repair. “I’m gonna have my colleague Tosak take your case,” you said suddenly, rising to your feet and grabbing your datapad. “He’ll be able to pick up where we left off and you should be able to take your animal home by the end of the week.”

“Wait, why?” Jesse stood up quickly, dropping the cocky facade immediately. 

“You expect me to be professional after that?” 

“No,” he answered bluntly, and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Exactly,” you sighed, the flicker of a smile touching your cheeks. “It’ll be better this way.” You slipped out the door, once again leaving him in your office, mouth slightly open with a million different things to say.

Next Chapter

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[nonbinaryeggrolls]

When Someone Tries to Touch Your Hair

JJK men x gn black!reader

I had this idea for a little while and I absolutely love it. As someone who has to literally fight off ppl with a stick to keep them from basically "petting" me, I thought it would be so cute to write about the JJK men sticking up for you

Warnings: Fluff!, no nsfw but MINORS ARE STILL NOT ALLOWED GO AWAY, angst in Gojo's, specified braids/locs/twists in Toji's, unwanted physical touch, I think that's it!

Starring: Nanami Kento, Toji Fushiguro, Gojo Satoru

MINORS DNI. AGELESS AND MINOR BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

Nanami Kento

Of course he remains calm, he's always calm. but trust, inside he is BOILING with anger

Kento adores your hair, it sounds weird but he loves watching you on wash day care and tend to your hair with such detail and precision. Apart of it is so he can learn to do it himself one day so you won't have to spend so much time doing it yourself

He's always buying the best products for you no matter how expensive he knows black hair care products can be.

Design Essentials, Creme of Nature, Mielle, jojoba oil, tea tree oil, hair masks, curling cream-- you name it (or even glance at it in the store) he's already bought it for you

So seeing someone disrespect you by even attempting to touch you makes him absolutely livid

Kento: "I don't know I didn't think it was all that great, the plot didn't really make a lot of sense." Kento said as you two walked out the doors of the movie theater.

Y/N: "What?! I thought it was good, you're always hating on superhero movies you're like an old person. Oh! the boba place closes at 9:30 did you still wanna--

"Oh my gosh I just have to ask who does your hair? It's so pretty!" A young woman around your age popped up from behind you guys, her intensity kind of startling you a little bit

Y/N: "Oh, thank you that's so sweet! I actually do it myself" you smiled and she looked at you in astonishment

"Really? Wow it looks like it was done by a professional, I bet it takes you so long!"

Kento's eyebrow raise and body stiffen in an almost defensive way, he was already anticipating what was coming next

Y/N: "Yeah, sometimes it can. It kind of just depends on how tired I am that d--

Your body leaned back as she reached out to grab the top of your head. Kento wrapped his arm around you and pulled you back by your shoulders, shooting daggers at the woman as if she had just committed an unforgivable act

Kento: "Please step back. You don't need to touch them to compliment them." he reprimanded and held a firmer grip on your shoulder. He wasn't going to yell at a woman he didn't know but he sure as hell was going to get his point across

"O-oh Im sorry I didn't mean anything by it. I just think it looks really ni--

Kento: "Then you can think it's nice from a distance, they're not a dog. Have a good night." Kento intwined your hand in his and led you away to the car. You looked up at him and a small grin grew across your face

Kento: "Don't look at me like that."

Y/N: "You're like a guard dog. Like a snappy little golden retriever." you giggled before planting a kiss on his jaw which he returned with one on the top of your head

Kento: "Cmon lets go get boba."

Toji Fushiguro

Rage, Rage, and more RAGE

The anger that fills this mans body when someone tries to touch you is immeasurable, ESPECIALLY if its a man

Sometimes you have to calm Toji down when someone tries but its no use, he's already out of his seat and practically ready to kill

Toji is definitely someone who values his personal space, so he completely understood your frustration when you talked about how crazy it is that some people think its okay to try and touch you without permission

He's only seen it happen a few times, thankfully most people had common sense. But there was always that one asshole that crosses the line

You and Toji were out on a late night supply run getting items for Megumis science fair project. You roamed through the aisles of the arts and craft store filling your basket with acrylic paint, styrofoam blocks, construction paper and glue sticks

Toji: "What kind of fifth grader does a science project on soil erosion? Can't we just do something normal like a volcano or something?"

Y/N: "Are you gonna keep complaining all night or are you gonna actually help find everything on the list?" You turned around mad dogging him, both of you were tired and a little bit cranky and snappy at one another. Most of it was playful but some of it intended

Toji: "You look like a pig when you scrunch your knows like that." He chuckled attempting to pull you in for a kiss

Y/N: "You bitch-- Go get someone to open the spraypaints for us!" You said shoving your hand in his face and pushing his head back. Toji sauntered away to find the nearest employee to assist you guys

You stood alone in the aisle for a few minutes scrolling through instagram to pass the time until Toji came back, until a tap on your shoulder caught your attention. A random man, had approached you attempting to spark a conversation. Your eyes jotted back and forth around the area wondering where tf could Toji be and why was he taking so long to get back

"You got a really pretty smile you know that? Pretty hair too, you do this all by yourself?" He asked and took one of your (protective style)'s in his hands

Toji: "Now you..." Toji came up behind the man and planted a firm grip on his shoulder, "...are way too ugly and way too short to think they'd ever want someone like you to touch them. Don't you think?"

The man trembled in place at the vast size difference between the two

"I--"

He couldn't get a whole sentence in before Toji pulled him back by his hair then slammed him head first into the shelves next to him, making the man scream in pain. The star captured the attention of multiple employees and needless to say it wasn't long until you were being led out of the building by security.

Toji: "Did I do too much again?" He asked from the passenger seat, knowing full well he didn't regret his actions

Y/N: "We just got banned from the store, what do you think Toji?"

Toji: "Are you mad at me?"

Y/N: "Yes I'm mad!"

Toji: "Mm. The blush on your face doesn't look like someone who'd be mad at me." He grinned and you tried to hide the smile that started to form

Y/N: "Shut the fuck up."

Gojo Satoru

Gojo unfortunately was very ignorant to the topic at first

Maybe it was a cultural difference but when you told him people would ask to touch your hair he thought it wasn’t that big of a deal

“If someone admired your hair so much that they want to get close to it shouldn’t that be a compliment to you? It’s like they’re complimenting an artist for their artwork right? I don’t really see the harm in that, I touch Getos hair all the time and he's fine with it.” He said once before

Nonetheless it led to a very heated argument

He didn’t understand all the fuss around it, that was until he saw it actually happen

Seeing how physically uncomfortable you get when someone you don’t know tries to “pet” you put it all in perspective for him

Y/N: “Gojo, hurry we’re gonna miss the train!” You shouted as you ran through the subway station

Gojo: “I’m coming slow down! I don’t wanna drop anything.” He followed closely behind carrying the other bags of groceries you guys got from the farmers market

You both managed to slip through the train doors in time before it departed. You two managed to find two seats by the window, it was a preferred spot that way you both could gaze upon the countryside greenery as you passed on your way back to the city. Gojo leaned against the window and you leaned against his shoulder, the both of you trying to get some rest after a full day of walking.

The train stopped at its next spot to let on a few more passengers and a tap on your shoulder shook you out of your rest.

“Can i touch your hair?” a young woman behind you asked, but she had already reached out her hand before you could even answer. You pulled back before her hand could touch you

“Oh, um no please don’t do that…” you awkwardly said and turned back around. You looked over at Gojo who you know heard everything but was undermining the situation yet again

Gojo: “Calm down she didn’t mean anything by it, go back to sleep.” He dismissed you, not even bothering to open his eyes as he still laid against the window. You let out a low scoff and laid back against your seat instead of Gojos shoulder like you were before

The next few minutes we’re quiet as you dozed back off until you heard a loud camera click and could hear the girl frantically trying to turn the volume down

Y/N: “Did you just take a picture of me?”

“Oh it wasn't a bad one I was just sending your hairstyle to my friend I think it’s cute.”

Y/N: “I don’t care. Don’t take a fucking picture of me if—

“I didn’t even touch you so calm the fuck down…this is why no body likes to compliment you people anyways. You take everything too goddamn seriously.” she muttered the last bit under her breath but still loud enough to pick up. This sentence being the one that finally caught Gojos attention

Gojo: “What was that?” He stood up towering over the young woman

“I-I didn’t say anyth— I’m s-sor—

Gojo: “Shut up. Delete it. Now.” His eyes pierced through her and she scrambled to reopen her camera and delete the photos. She flipped the phone towards his face to show that they were no longer in her folder

Gojo: “Now go to a different seat. And if you touch them against i’ll smash that stupid fucking phone into the fucking concrete.” The young woman ran from her seat to the other side of the train as quickly as possible and Gojo sat back down. He attempted to put his arm around you but you wanted no part in it, for the next 30 minutes you ignored every attempt he made to get a word out of you. Even on the walk home you were cold

Gojo: “Y/N if you don’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t fix it!” he said as you entered your apartment

Y/N: “IVE TOLD YOU WHATS WRONG BEFORE. YOU DONT LISTEN!” you yelled, something he rarely heard you do, “I told you countless times before that people trying to touch me is a reoccurring problem for me and what did you do? You belittled me and made it seem like no big deal. Why did it take someone being blatantly racist towards me for you to actually start caring? Why did I have to prove the problem to you?” He looked back at you with no words just a stunned expression as he struggled to find the right thing to say

Gojo: “I…I don’t know. I’m sorry.” you rolled your eyes at his lackluster reply and turned away to the bedroom

Y/N: “Whatever. I’m going to bed.”

Gojo: “Y/N, wait I—

you slammed the door in his face before he could finish his sentence

story belongs to @nonbinaryeggrolls

do not steal